Asimov was right. Xinjiang states the only language it understands is war, and it would appear wholly committed to maintaining a reputation for violence. Blood, death, and misery are now the common currency for this un-government, murder and terror so entrenched in institutional practice, it remains to be seen if any citizen will ever die of old age. We, who would by our name and imagery seem the more likely patron of the sanguinary theme, cannot help but notice how clean our hands are compared to the uniform crimson that gloves those of Mr. Christos Xinjiang. Dissenters are killed. Underperformers are killed. Loiterers are killed. Under the new emergency laws, anyone, for any reason, under any circumstance, whether child or healthy adult, is candidate for arbitrary execution. This Stalinesque problem-solving makes a mockery of every notion of rule of law and legitimate government conceivable. In the despotate Xinjiang, the court jester is king.
How unsurprising, therefore, is its latest brazen display of contempt for good government as demonstrated by its predictable opposition to the Union of Nations' proposed Bill of Human Rights; not only does Xinjiang reject the bill outright without offering even a façade of justification, it once again puts its slave-citizens on the firing lines to defend the clowns at the helm by daring the international community to respond in force. Have you no shame, Mr. Christos? Have you no conscience? If a simple human rights bill threatens to undermine your constitution, then it logically follows your constitution is fundamentally unjust. And why does this injustice persist so pervasively? Mr. Christos has outright confessed that the state is merely a tool to satiate his self-serving lusts, an extended organ of his person of which he greedily consumes all benefit while denying all responsibility for its own health. Beware, Mr. Christos: one dead organ can kill the body entire.
If the state of Xinjiang is, as Mr. Christos supposes it is, a socio-political manifestation of himself, then an analysis of the state will provide a window into the psychology of its ruler. The country's fixation on violence reflects the aggressive, impetuous, and at root deeply frightened nature of an uneducated brute. His obsession with power underscores his own vulnerability; he dreams of immortality, yet can find no other means of securing his legacy than murdering everyone around him. His international grand-standing would be far more amusing if millions of lives were not jeopardized by each clumsy misstep. And now, as a result of a machismo that if distilled into a drug would forever ban him from the Olympics, he has grown overconfident enough to pronounce judgment upon the Scarlet Lancers as though his accidental rise to power owes itself to some sort of divine quality.
Mr. Christos Xinjiang, I now speak directly to you. You wish to call out the leadership on personal terms, and as leader, I am duty-bound to respond. I have been called many names by countless people; "Thorvald of Lym" is the most novel, and for that I do afford you a small sliver of commendation. However, I believe once you have come to understand me a little better, you may prefer to address me by my current public moniker, the Red Lotus. You claim, in your arrogance, you can defeat me. You claim, in your ignorance, that you actually have the means of permanently overcoming your critics. You boast as though this battle has already been decided in your favour, and that it is merely a matter of time before I am brought physically shackled to your feet the same way all your unwilling subjects are shackled to your childish will. In your delusional black comedy of Xinjiang, you seem to think yourself an enlightened being. You make every manner of claims upon our movement and my person, but answer me this, Mr. Christos:
As we have stated previously, nation-states are but temporary, artificial constructs. The people endure, regardless of who heads what régime at an arbitrary point in time. The Scarlet Lancers have existed long before your lifetime, and regardless of how many you slaughter in our struggle for emancipation, we shall persist long after your criminal empire is reduced to a footnote in the history of failure. Although you have seen the abyss, you yet scramble in vain to concoct some means of perpetuating yourself past your mortal lifespan. You have tried to engrave yourself in this state you call Xinjiang, but lacking the requisite intellect, you fall back to primeval masculinity to force your will through. You present yourself as father to your state, but whenever you aren't neglectful you are drunk and abusive, and your people suffer for your incorrigible vices. Perhaps rectifying this situation simply requires a woman's touch.
I had hoped, sincerely, that I could avoid that banal practice of vendetta. Senseless and illogical tit-for-tat vengeance is a distraction from more practical means of eliciting change. You, however, seem obsessed with pursuing me personally; and if you truly are confident in your capacity to confront me, then I shall happily oblige. Now, fighting Xinjiang on Xinjiang ground presents to me something of a moral dilemma: On the one hand, your tactics are reprobate and justly abhorred by any individual truly striving for a free society. On the other hand, Thomas Hobbes postulated that where legitimate government does not exist, neither do justice and injustice; Xinjiang is certainly no legitimate government, and so, I would have considerable motivation for using every trick at my disposal to counter
your dirty plays, of which I can no doubt expect many.
I have history and eternity on my side, Mr. Christos. You have corpses on yours.
It's your call.
