"Look around you And what do you see? What is the result of this so-called democracy, thisso-called^reedom, this so-called liberty? Oppression, persecution1, slaughter2. Brothers, you can seeit on national television every day, every evening, every nightl Chaos3, disorder4, confusion. They arenot ashamed or embarrassed or self-consciousl They don't try to hide, to conceal5, to disguise. Theyknow as we know: the entire world is in a turmoil6! Everywhere men indulge in prurience,promiscuity, profligacy7, vice8, corruption9 and indulgence. The entire world is affected10 by a diseaseknown as Kufr the state of rejection11 of the oneness of the Creator refusing to acknowledge theinfinite blessings12 of the Creator. And on this day, i December 1992,1 bear witness that there isnothing worthy13 of worship besides the sole Creator, no partner unto Him. On this day we shouldknow that whosoever the Creator has guided cannot be misguided, and whosoever he hasmisguided from the straight path shall not return to the straight path until the Creator puts guidancein his heart and brings him to the light. I will now begin my third lecture, which I call "IdeologicalWarfare", and that means I will explain for those that don't understand the war of these things .. .
these ideologies16, against the Brothers of KEVIN.. . ideology17 means a kind of brainwashing . and weare being indoctrinated, fooled and brainwashed, my Brothers! So I will try to elucidate18, explainand expoundNo one in the hall was going to admit it, but Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah was no greatspeaker, when you got down to it. Even if you overlooked his habit of using three words where onewould do, of emphasizing the last word of such triplets with his see-saw Caribbean inflections,even if you ignored these aseverybody tried to, he was still physically19 disappointing. He had a small sketchy20 beard, ahunched demeanour, a repertoire21 of tense, inept22 gesticulations and a vague look of Sidney Poitierabout him which did not achieve quite the similitude to command any serious respect. And he wasshort. On this point, Millat felt most let down. There was a tangible23 dissatisfaction in the hall whenBrother Hifan finished his fulsome25 introductory speech and the famous but diminutive26 BrotherIbrahim ad-Din Shukrallah crossed the room to the podium. Not that anyone would require an alimof Islam to be a towering height, or indeed for a moment dare to suggest that the Creator had notmade Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah precisely27 the height that He, in all his holy omnipotence28,had selected. Still, one couldn't help thinking, as Hifan awkwardly lowered the microphone and theBrother Ibrahim awkwardly stretched to meet it, you couldn't help thinking, in the Brother's veryown style of third-word emphasis: five foot Jive.
The other problem with Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah, the biggest problem perhaps, washis great affection for tautology29. Though he promised explanation, elucidation30 and exposition,linguistically he put one in mind of a dog chasing its own tail: "Now there are many types ofwarfare ... I will name a few. Chemical warfare15 is the warfare where them men kill each otherchemically with warfare. This can be a terrible warfare. Physical warfare! That is the warfare withphysical weapons in which people kill each other physically. Then there is germ warfare in which aman, he knows that he's carrying the virus of HIV and he goes to the country and spreads his germon the loose women of that country and creates germ warfare. Psychological warfare, that is one ofthe most evil, the war where they try to psychologically defeat you. This is called psychologicalwarfare. But ideological14 warfare! That is the sixth warfare which is the worst warfareAnd yet Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah was no less thanthe founder31 of KEVIN, an impressive man with a formidable reputation. Born Monty ClydeBenjamin in Barbados in 1960, the son of two poverty-stricken barefoot Presbyterian dypsomaniacs,he converted to Islam after a Vision' at the age of fourteen. Aged32 eighteen he fled the lush green ofhis homeland for the desert surrounding Riyadh and the books that line the walls of Al-ImamMuhammad ibn Saud Islamic University. There he studied Arabic for five years, becamedisillusioned with much of the Islamic clerical establishment, and first expressed his contempt forwhat he called 'religious secularists', those foolish ula ma who attempt to separate politics fromreligion. It was his belief that many radical34 modern political movements were relevant to Islam andmoreover were to be found in the Qur'an if one looked closely enough. He wrote several pamphletson this matter, only to find that his own radical opinions were not welcome in Riyadh. He wasconsidered a troublemaker35 and his life threatened 'numerous, countless36, innumerable times'. So in1984, wishing to continue his study, Brother Ibrahim came to England, locked himself in his aunt'sBirmingham garage and spent five more years in there, with only the Qur'an and the fascicles ofEndless Bliss37 for company. He took his food in through the cat-flap, deposited his shit and piss in aCoronation biscuit tin and passed it back out the same way, and did a thorough routine of press-upsand sit-ups to prevent muscular atrophy38. The Selly Oak Reporter wrote regular bylines39 on himduring this period, nicknaming him "The Guru in the Garage' (in view of the large BirminghamMuslim population, this was thought preferable to the press-desk favoured suggestion, "The Loonyin the Lock-Up') and had their fun interviewing his bemused aunt, one Carlene Benjamin, a devotedmember of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
These articles, cruel, mocking and offensive, had been written by one Norman Henshall andwere now classics of their kind, distributed amongst KB VIN members throughout England as anexample (if example were needed) of the virulent41, anti-KEVINelement that bred in the press from even this foetal stage of their movement. Note KEVINmembers were advised note how Henshall's articles end halfway42 through May '87, the very monththat Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah succeeded in converting his aunt Carlene through thecat-flap using nothing else but the pure truth as it was delivered by the final prophet Muhammad(peace be upon Him!). Note how Henshall fails to document the queues of people who came tospeak with Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah, so many they stretched three blocks round thecentre of Selly Oak, from the cat-flap to the bingo hall! Note the failure of this same Mr. Henshallto publish the 637 separate rules and laws that the Brother had spent five years gleaning43 from theQur'an (listing them in order of severity, and then in subgroups according to their nature, i.e."Regarding Cleanliness and Specific Genital and Oral Hygiene). Note all this, brothers and sisters,and then marvel44 at the power of word of mouth. Marvel at the dedication45 and commitment of theyoung people of Birmingham!
Their eagerness and enthusiasm was so remarkable46 (extraordinary, outstanding, unprecedented)that almost before the Brother emerged from his confinement49 and announced it himself, the idea ofKEVIN had been born within the black and Asian community. A radical new movement wherepolitics and religion were two sides of the same coin. A group that took freely from Garveyism, theAmerican Civil Rights movement and the thought of Elijah Muhammed, yet remained within theletter of the Qur'an. The Keepers of the Eternal and Victorious50 Islamic Nation. By 1992 they were asmall but widespread body, with limbs as far-flung as Edinburgh and Land's End, a heart in SellyOak and a soul in the Kilburn High Road. KEVIN: an extremist faction24 dedicated51 to direct, oftenviolent action, a splinter group frowned on by the rest of the Islamic community; popular with thesixteen to twenty-five age group; feared and ridiculed52 in the press; and gathered tonight in theKilburn Hall, standing47 on chairsand packed to the rafters, listening to the speech of their founder.
"There are three things," continued Brother Ibrahim, looking briefly53 at his notes, 'that thecolonial powers wish to do to you, brothers of KEVIN. Firstly, they wish to kill you spiritually .. .
oh yes, they value nothing higher than your mental slavery. There are too many of you to fighthand-to-hand! But if they have your minds, then ' "Hey," went a fat man's attempt at a whisper.
"Brother Millat."It was Mohammed Hussein-Ishmael, the butcher. He was sweating profusely54 as ever, and hadforced his way through a long line of people apparently55 to sit next to Millat. They were distantlyrelated, and these past few months Mo had been rapidly nearing the inner circle of KEVIN (Hifan,Millat, Tyrone, Shiva, Abdul-Colin and others) by virtue56 of the money he had put forward and hisstated interest in the more 'active' sides of the group. Personally, Millat was still a little suspiciousof him and objected to his big slobbery face, the great quiff emerging from his toki and hischicken-breath.
"Late. I have to close up shop. But I been standing at the back for while. Listening. BrotherIbrahim is a very impressive man, hmm?""Hmm.""Very impressive," repeated Mo, patting Millat's knee conspiratorially57, 'a very impressiveBrother." Mo Hussein was partly funding Brother Ibrahim's tour around England, so it was in hisinterest (or at least it made him feel better about donating two thousand quid) to find the Brotherimpressive. Mo was a recent convert to KEVIN (he had been a reasonably good Muslim for twentyyears), and his enthusiasm for the group was two pronged. Firstly, he was just flattered, downrightflattered, that he should be considered sufficiently58 successful a Muslim businessman to poncemoney off. In normal circumstances he would have shown them the door and where they couldstuff a freshly bled chicken, but the truth was, Mo was feeling a bit vulnerableat the time, his stringy-legged Irish wife, Sheila, having just left him for a publican; he wasfeeling a little emasculated, so when KEVIN asked Ardashir for five grand and got it, and Nadirfrom the rival hal al place put up three, Mo came over all macho and put up his own stake.
The second reason for Mo's conversion59 was more personal. Violence. Violence and theft. Foreighteen years Mo had owned the most famous hal al butchers in North London, so famous that hehad been able to buy the next door property and expand into a sweetshop butchers And in thisperiod in which he ran the two establishments, he had been a victim of serious physical attacks androbbery, without fail, three times a year. Now, that figure doesn't include the numerous punches tothe head, quick smacks60 with a crowbar, shifty kicks in the groin or anything else that failed to drawblood. Mo didn't even phone his wife, no matter the police, to report those. No: serious violence.
Mo had been knifed a total of five times (Ah), lost the tips of three fingers (Eeeesh), had both legsand arms broken (Oaooow), his feet set on fire (jiii), his teeth kicked out (ka-too of and an air-gunbullet (ping) embedded61 in his thankfully fleshy posterior. Boof. And Mo was a big man. A big manwith attitude. The beatings had in no way humbled62 him, made him watch his mouth or walk with astoop. He gave as good as he got. But this was one man against an army. There was nobody whocould help. The very first time, when he received a hammer blow to his ribs63 in January 1970, henaively reported it to the local constabulary and was rewarded by a late-night visit from fivepolicemen who gave him a thorough kicking. Since then, violence and theft had become a regularpart of his existence, a sad spectator sport watched by the old Muslim men and young Muslimmothers who came in to buy their chicken, and hurried out shortly afterwards, scared they might benext. Violence and theft. The culprits ranged from secondary school children coming in the cornershop side to buy sweets (which is why Mo only allowed one child from Glenard Oak inat a time. Of course it made no difference, they just took turns beating the shit out of him solo),decrepit drunks, teenage thugs, the parents of teenage thugs, general fascists64, specific neo-Nazis,the local snooker team, the darts65 team, the football team and huge posses of mouthy, white-skirtedsecretaries in deadly heels. These various people had various objections to him: he was a Paki (trytelling a huge drunk Office Superworld check-out boy that you're Bangladeshi); he gave half hiscorner shop up to selling weird66 Paki meat; he had a quiff; he liked Elvis ("You like Elvis, then? Doyer? Eh, Paki? Do yer?"); the price of his cigarettes; his distance from home ("Why don't you goback to your own country?" "But then how will I serve you cigarettes?" Boo/); or just the look onhis face. But they all had one thing in common, these people. They were all white. And this simplefact had done more to politicize Mo over the years than all the party broadcasts, rallies and petitionsthe world could offer. It had brought him more securely within the fold of his faith than even avisitation from the angel Jabrail could have achieved. The last straw, if it could be called that, camea month before joining KEVIN, when three white 'youths' tied him up, kicked him down the cellarsteps, stole all his money and set fire to his shop. Double-jointed hands (the result of many brokenwrists) got him out of that one. But he was tired of almost dying. When KEVIN gave Mo a leafletthat explained there was a war going on, he thought: no shit. At last someone was speaking hislanguage. Mo had been in the front line of that war for eighteen years. And KEVIN seemed tounderstand that it wasn't enough his kids doing well, going to a nice school, having tennis lessons,too pale skinned to ever have a hand laid on them in their lives. Good. But not good enough. Hewanted a little payback. For himself. He wanted Brother Ibrahim to stand on that podium anddissect Christian67 culture and Western morals until it was dust in his hands. He wanted thedegenerate nature of these people explained to him. He wanted to know the history of it and thepolitics of it and theroot cause. He wanted to see their art exposed and their science exposed, and their tastesexposed and their distastes. But words would never be enough; he'd heard so many words (If youcould just file a report.. . If you wouldn't mind telling us precisely what the attacker looked like),and they were never as good as action. He wanted to know why these people kept on beating theshit out of him. And then he wanted to go and beat the shit out of some of these people.
"Very impressive, Millat, hey? Everything we hope for.""Yeah," said Millat, despondent68. "I s'pose. Less talk, more action, though, if you ask me. Theinfidel are everywhere."Mo nodded vigorously. "Oh definitely, Brother. We are two birds from the same bush on thatmatter. I hear there are some others," said Mo, lowering his voice and putting his fat, sweaty lips byMillat's ear, 'who are very keen on action. Immediate69 action. Brother Hifan spoke70 to me. About the31st of December. And Brother Shiva and Brother Tyrone"Yes, yes. I know who they are. They are the beating heart ofKEVIN.""And they say you know the man himself this scientist. You in good position. I hear you are hisfriend.""Was. Was.""Brother Hifan says you have the tickets to get in, that you are organizing'
"Shhh," said Millat irritably71. "Not everyone can know. If you want to get near the centre, you'vegot to keep shtoom."Millat looked Mo up and down. The kurta-pyjamas that he somehow managed to make looklike a late seventies Elvis flared72 jumpsuit. The huge stomach he rested on his knee like a friend.
Sharply, he asked, "You're a bit old aren't you?""You rude little bastard73. I'm strong as a bloody74 bull.""Yeah, well, we don't need strength," said Millat tapping his temple, 'we need a little of the stuffupstairs. We've got to get in the place discreetly76 first, in nit The first evening. It'll be crawling."Mo blew his nose in his hand. "I can be discreet75.""Yeah, but that means keeping shtoom.""And the third thing," said Brother Ibrahim ad-Din Shukrallah, interrupting them, suddenlylouder and buzzing the PA system, 'the third thing they will try to do, is to convince you that it ishuman intellect and not Allah that is omnipotent77, unlimited78, all-powerful. They will try to convinceyou that your minds are not to be used to pronounce the greater glory of the Creator but to raiseyourselves up equal to or beyond the Creator! And now we approach the most serious business ofthis evening. The greatest evil of the infidel is here, in this very borough79 of Brent. I will tell you,and you will not believe it, Brothers, but there is a man in this very community who believes thathe can improve upon the creation of Allah. There is a man who presumes to change, adjust, modifywhat has been decreed. He will take an animal an animal that Allah has created and presume tochange that creation. To create a new animal that has no name but is simply an abomination. Andwhen he has finished with that small animal, a mouse, Brothers, when he has finished he will moveto sheep, and cats and dogs. And who in this lawless society will stop him from one day creating aman? A man born not of woman but from a man's intellect alone! And he will tell you that it ismedicine .. . but KEVIN makes no complaint against medicine. We are a sophisticated communitywho count many doctors amongst us, my Brothers. Don't be misled, deluded80, fooled. This is notmedicine. And my question to you, Brothers of KEVIN, is who will make the sacrifice and stop thisman? Who will stand up alone in the name of the Creator, and show the modernists that theCreator's laws still exist and are eternal? Because they will try and tell you, the modernists, thecynics, the Orientalists, that there are no more beliefs, that our history, our culture, our world isover. So thinks this scientist. That is why he so confidently presumes. But he will soon understandwhat is truly meant by last days. So who will show him '
"Yes, shtoom, yes, I understand," said Mo, speaking to Millat, but looking straight ahead as in aspy movie.
Millat looked around the room and saw that Hifan was giving him the eye, so he gave it toShiva, who gave it to Abdul-Jimmy and Abdul-Colin, to Tyrone and the rest of the Kilburn crew,who were stationed by the walls as stewards81 at particular points in the room. Hifan gave Millat theeye once more, then he looked at the back room. Discreet movement began.
"Something is happening?" whispered Mo, spotting the men with the green steward82 sashes,making their way through the crowds.
"Come into the office," said Millat.
"OK, so, I think the key thing here is to come at the issue from two sides. Because it is a matterof straight laboratory torture and we can certainly play that to the gallery, but the central emphasishas to go to the anti-patent argument. Because that's really an angle we can work. And if we lay ouremphasis there, then there are a number of other groups we can call upon the NCGA, the OHNO,etc." and Crispin's been in touch with them. Because, you know, we haven't really dealt in this areaextensively before, but it's clearly a key issue I think Crispin's going to talk to us about that in moredepth in a minute but for now, I just want to talk about the public support we have here. I mean,particularly the recent press, even the tabloid83 element have really come up trumps84 on this .. . there'sa lot of bad feeling regarding the patenting of living organisms ... I think people feel veryuncomfortable, rightly, with that concept, and it's really up to F A The E to play on that, and reallyget a comprehensive campaign together, so if.. ."Ah, Joely.Joely'Joely'Joefy. Joshua knew he should be listening, but looking was so good.
Looking at Joely was great. The way she sat (on a table, knees pulled up to chest), the way shelooked up from her notes (kittenishly!), the way the air whistled between her gappy front teeth, the wayshe continuously tucked her straggly blonde hair behind her ear with one hand and tapped out arhythm on her huge Doc Martens with the other. Blonde hair aside, she looked a lot like his motherwhen young: those fulsome English lips, ski-jump nose, big hazel eyes. But the face, spectacular asit might be, was mere85 decoration to top off the most luxurious86 body in the world. Long in all itslines, muscular in the thigh87 and soft in the stomach, with breasts that had never known a bra butwere an utter delight, and a bottom which was the platonic88 ideal of all English bottomrey, flat yetpeachy, wide but welcoming. Plus she was intelligent. Plus she was devoted40 to her cause. Plus shedespised his father. Plus she was ten years older (which suggested to Joshua all kinds of sexualexpertise he couldn't even imagine without getting an enormous hard-on right now right here in themiddle of the meeting). Plus she was the most wonderful woman Joshua had ever met. Oh, Joely!
"As I see it, what we have to impress upon people is this idea of setting a precedent48. You know,the "What next?" kind of argument and I understand Kenny's PO V, that that's way too simplistic atake on it but I have to argue, I think it's necessary, and we'll put it to a vote in a minute. Is that allright, Kenny? If I can just get on ... right? Right. Where was I ... precedent. Because, if it can beargued that the animal under experimentation89 is owned by any group of people, i.e." it is not a catbut effectively an invention with-cat-like-qualities, then that very cleverly and very dangerouslyshort-circuits the work of animal rights groups and that leads to a pretty fucking scary vision of thefuture. Umm ... I want to bring Crispin in here, to talk a little more about that."Of course the cunt of it was, Joely was married to Crispin. And the double-cunt of it was, theirswas a marriage of true love, total spiritual bonding and dedicated political union. Fan-fuckingtastic.
Even worse, amongst the members of FATE, Joely's andCrispin's marriage served as a kind of cosmogony, an originating myth that explained succinctlywhat people could and should be, how the group began and how it should proceed in the future.
Though Joely and Crispin didn't encourage ideas of leadership or any kind of icon90 worship, it hadhappened anyway, they were worshipped. And they were indivisible. When Joshua first joined thegroup, he had tried to sniff91 out a little information on the couple, get the low-down on his chances.
Were they wobbly? Had the harsh nature of their business driven them apart? Fat chance. He wastold the whole depressing fable92 by two seasoned FATE activists93 over some pints95 in the Spotted96 Dog:
a psychotic ex-postal worker called Kenny who as a child had witnessed his father kill his puppy,and Paddy, a sensitive life-time dole97 collector and pigeon-fancier.
"Everyone begins wanting to shagjoely," Kenny had explained, sympathetically, 'but you getover it. You realize the best thing you can do for her is dedicate yourself to the struggle. And thenthe second thing you realize, is that Crispin's just this incredible dude-'
"Yeah, yeah, get on with it."Kenny got on with it.
It seemed Joely and Crispin met and fell in love at the University of Leeds the winter of 1982,two young student radicals98, with Che Guevara on their walls, idealism in their hearts and a mutualpassion for all the creatures that fly, trot99, crawl and slime across the earth. At the time, they wereboth active members of a great variety of far-left groups, but political in-fighting, back-stabbingand endless factionalizing soon disillusioned33 them as far as the fate of homo erectus was concerned.
At some point they grew tired of speaking up for this species of ours who will so often organize acoup, bitch behind your back, choose another representative and throw it all back in your face.
Instead they turned their attention to our mute animal friends. Joely and Crispin upgraded theirvegetarianism to veganism, dropped out of col478 lege, got married and formed Fighting Animal Torture and Exploitation in 1985. Crispin'smagnetic personality and Joely's natural charm attracted other political drifters, and soon they hadbecome a commune of twenty-five (plus ten cats, fourteen dogs, a garden full of wild rabbits, asheep, two pigs and a family of foxes) living and working from a Brixton bed sit which backed onto a large expanse of unused allotment. They were pioneers in many senses. Recycling before itbecame the fashion, making a tropical biosphere100 of their sweaty bathroom, and dedicatingthemselves to organic food production. Politically they were equally circumspect101. From the verybeginning their extremist credentials102 were impeccable, FATE being to the RSPCA what Stalinism isto the Liberal Democrats103. For three years FATE conducted a terror campaign against animal testers,torturers and exploiters, sending death threats to personnel at make-up firms, breaking into labs,kidnapping technicians and chaining themselves to hospital gates. They also ruined fox-hunts,filmed battery chickens, burnt down farms, fire-bombed food outlets104 and smashed up circus tents.
Their brief being so broad and so fanatical (any animal in any level of discomfort), they were keptseriously busy, and life for FATE members was difficult, dangerous and punctuated105 by frequentimprisonment. Through all of this, Joely's and Crispin's relationship grew stronger and served as anexample to them all, a beacon106 in the storm, the ideal example of love between activists ("Yada yadayada. Get on with it'). Then in 1987 Crispin went to jail for three years for his part in fire-bombinga Welsh laboratory and releasing 40 cats, 350 rabbits and 1,000 rats from their captivity107. Beforebeing taken down to Wormwood Scrubs, Crispin generously informed Joely that she had hispermission to go to other FATE members if she was in need of sexual satisfaction while he wasgone ("And did she?" asked Joshua. "Did she fuck," replied Kenny sadly).
During Crispin's captivity, Joely devoted herself to transforming FATE from a small gang ofhighly strung friends to a viable108 underground political force. She began to put less emphasis on terror tactics and, after readingGuy Debord, grew interested in situation ism as a political tactic109, which she understood to mean theincreased use of large banners, costumes, videos and gruesome re-enactments. By the time Crispinemerged from jail, FATE had grown four-fold, and Crispin's legend (lover, fighter, rebel, hero) hadgrown with it, fuelled by Joely's passionate110 interpretation111 of his life and works and a carefullychosen photo of him circa 1980 in which he looked a bit like Nick Drake. But though his image hadbeen airbrushed, Crispin appeared to have lost none of his radicalism112. His first act as a free citizenwas to mastermind the release of several hundred voles, an event that received widespreadnewspaper coverage113, though Crispin delegated responsibility for the actual act to Kenny, who wassent down for four months of high security ("Greatest moment of my life'). And then last summer,'91, Joely persuaded Crispin to go to California with her to join the other groups fighting the patenton trans genic animals. Though courtrooms weren't Crispin's scene ("Crispin's a front-line dude'),he succeeded in sufficiently disrupting proceedings115 to officially warrant a mistrial. The couple flewback to England, elated but with funds perilously116 low, to find they had been turfed out of theirBrixton pad and Well, Joshua could take the narrative117 from here. He met them a week later,wandering up and down the Willesden High Road, looking for a suitable squat118. They looked lost,and Joshua, emboldened119 by the summer vibe and Joely's beauty, went up to talk to them. Theyended up going for a pint94. They drank, as everybody in Willesden drank, in the aforementionedSpotted Dog, a famous Willesden landmark120, described in 1792 as 'being a well accostomed Publickhouse' (Willesden Past, by Len Snow), which became a favourite resort for mid-VictorianLondoners wishing a day out 'in the country', then the meeting point for the horse-buses; later still,a watering hole for local Irish builders. By 1992 it had transformed again, this time into the focalpoint of the huge Australian immigrant population of Willesden, who, for the last five years, had beenleaving their silky beaches and emerald seas and inexplicably121 arriving in NW2. The afternoonJoshua walked in with Joely and Crispin, this community was in a state of high excitement. After acomplaint of a terrible smell above Sister Mary's Palm Readers on the high road, the upper flat hadbeen raided by Health Officers and found to be sheltering sixteen squatting122 Aussies who had dug ahuge hole in the floor and roasted a pig in there, apparently trying to re-create the effect of a SouthSeas underground kiln123. Thrown out on the street, they were presently bemoaning124 their fate to thepublican, a huge bearded Scotsman who had little sympathy for his Antipodean clientele ("Is theresome fuckin' sign in fuckin' Sydney that says come to fuckin' Willesden?"). Overhearing the story,Joshua surmised125 the flat must now be empty and took Joely and Crispin to look at it, his mindalready ticking over ... if / can get her to live near by .. .
It was a beautiful, crumbling126 Victorian building, with a small balcony, a roof garden and a largehole in the floor. He advised them to lie low for a month and then move in. They did, and Joshuasaw more and more of them. A month later he experienced a 'conversion' after hours of talk withJoely (hours of examining her breasts underneath127 those threadbare t-shirts), which felt, at the time,as if somebody had taken his little closed Chalfenist head, stuck two cartoon sticks of dynamitethrough each ear, and just blown a big mutherfucking hole in his consciousness. It became clear tohim in a blinding flash that he loved Joely, that his parents were assholes, that he himself was anasshole, and that the largest community of earth, the animal kingdom, were oppressed, imprisonedand murdered on a daily basis with the full knowledge and support of every government in theworld. How much of the last realization128 was predicated and reliant upon the first was difficult tosay, but he had given up Chalfenism and had no interest in taking things apart to see how they fittedtogether. Instead he gave up all meat, ran off to Glastonbury, got a tattoo129, became the kind ofguy who could measure an eighth with his eyes closed (so fuck you, Millat) and generally had aball . until finally his conscience pricked130 him. He revealed himself to be the son of Marcus Chalfen.
This horrified131 Joely (and, Joshua liked to think, slightly aroused her sleeping with the enemy andall that). Joshua was sent away, while FATE had a two-day summit meeting along the lines of: Buthe's the very thing we're . Ah, but we could use .. .
It was a protracted132 process with votes and subclauses and objections and provisos, but in theend it couldn't really come down to anything more sophisticated than: Whose side are you on?
Joshua said yours, and Joely welcomed him with open arms, pressing his head to her exquisitebosom. He was paraded at meetings, given the role of secretary and was generally the jewel in theircrown: the convert from, the other side.
Since then and for six months, Joshua had indulged his growing contempt for his father, seenplenty of his great love and set about a long-term plan of insinuating133 himself between the famouscouple (he needed somewhere to stay anyway; the Joneses' hospitality was growing thin). Heingratiated himself with Crispin, deliberately134 ignoring Crispin's suspicion of him. Joshua acted likehis best mate, did all the shit jobs for him (photocopying, poste ring leafleting), kipped on his floor,celebrated his seventh wedding anniversary and presented him with a hand-made guitar plectrumfor his birthday; while all the time hating him intensely, coveting135 his wife as no man's wife has everbeen coveted136 before, and dreaming up plots for his downfall with a green-eyed jealousy137 that wouldmake lago blush.
All this had distracted Joshua from the fact that FATE were busy plotting his own father'sdownfall. He had approved it in principle when Magid returned, when his rage was hottest and theidea itself seemed hazy138 just some big talk to impress new members. Now the 31st was three weeksaway, and Joshua hadso far failed to question himself in any coherent way, in any Chalfenist fashion, regarding theconsequences of what was about to happen. He wasn't even clear precisely what -was going tohappen there had been no final decision; and now as they argued it, the core members of FATEcross-legged and spaced out around the great hole in the floor, now as he should, have beenlistening to these fundamental decisions, he had lost the thread of his attention down Joely's t-shirt,down along the athletic139 dip and curve of her torso, down further to her tie-dyed pants, down "Josh,mate, could you just read me the minutes for a couple of minutes ago, if you get my drift?""Huh?"Crispin sighed and tutted. Joely reached down from her tabletop and kissed Crispin on the ear.
Cunt.
"The minutes, Josh. After the stuff Joely was saying about protest strategy. We'd moved on tothe hard part. I want to hear what Paddy was saying a few minutes ago about Punishment versus140 Release."Joshua looked at his blank clipboard and placed it over his de tumescent erection.
"Umm ... I guess I missed that.""Er, well that was actually really fucking important, Josh. You've got to keep up. I mean, what'sthe point of doing all this talking Cunt, cunt, cunt.
"He's doing his best," Joely interceded141, reaching down from her table-top once more, this timeto ruffle142 Joshua's Jewfro. "This is probably quite hard for Joshi, you know? I mean this is quitepersonal to him." She always called him Joshi like that. Joshi and Joely. Joely and Joshi.
Crispin frowned. "Well, you know, I've said many times if Joshua doesn't want to be personallyinvolved in this job, because of personal sympathies, if he wants out, then '
"I'm in," snapped Josh, barely restraining the aggression143. "I've no intention of wimping out.""That's why Joshi's our hero," said Joely, with an enormous, supportive smile. "Mark my words,he'll be the last man standing."Ah, Joely!
"All right, well, let's get on. Try to keep minutes from now on, all right? OK. Paddy, can youjust repeat what you were saying, so everyone can take it in, because I think what you said perfectlysums up the key decision we have to make now."Paddy's head shot up and he fumbled144 through his notes. "Umm, well basically .. . basically, it'sa question of... of what our real flints are. If it's to punish the perpetrators and educate the public .. .
then, well, that involves one sort of approach an attack directly on, umm, the person in question,"said Paddy, flashing a nervous glance at Joshua. "But if our interest is the animal itself, as I think itshould be, then it's a question of an anti-campaign, and if that doesn't succeed, then the forcefulrelease of the animal.""Right," said Crispin hesitantly, unsure where the Crispin-role of-glory would fit into freeingone mouse. "But surely the mouse in this case is a symbol, i.e." this guy's got a lot more of them inhis lab so we have to deal with the bigger picture. We need someone to bust145 in there '
"Well, basically .. . basically, I think that's the mistake that OHNO make for example. Because,they take the animal itself as simply a symbol.. . and to me that's absolutely the opposite of whatFATE is about. If this were a man trapped in a little glass box for six years, he wouldn't be a symbol,you know? And I don't know about you, but there's no difference between mice and men, you know,in my opinion."The gathered members of FATE murmured their assent114, because this was the kind of sentimentto which they routinely murmured assent.
Crispin was miffed. "Right, well, obviously I didn't mean that,Paddy. I just meant there is a bigger picture here, just like choosing between one man's life andmany men's lives, right?""Point of order!" said Josh, putting his hand in the air for a chance to make Crispin look stupid.
Crispin glared.
"Yes, Joshi," saidjoely sweetly. "Go on.""It's just there aren't any more mice. I mean, yeah, there are lots of mice, but he hasn't got anyexactly like this one. It's an incredibly expensive process. He couldn't afford loads. Plus, the pressgoaded him that if the Future Mouse died while on display he could just secretly replace it withanother so he got cocky. He wants to prove that his calculations are correct in front of the world.
He's only going to do one and bar code it. There are no others."Joely beamed and reached down to massage146 Josh's shoulders.
"Right, yes, well, I guess that makes sense. So Paddy, I see what you're saying it is a question ofwhether we're going to devote our attentions to Marcus Chalfen or to releasing the actual mousefrom its captivity in front of the world's press.""Point of order!""Yes, Josh, what?""Well, Crispin, this isn't like the other animals you bust out. It won't make any difference. Thedamage is done. The mouse carries around its own torture in its genes147. Like a time-bomb. If yourelease it, it'll just die in terrible pain somewhere else.""Point of order!""Yes, Paddy, go on.""Well, basically .. . would you not help a political prisoner to escape from jail just because hehad a terminal disease?"The multiple heads of FATE nodded vigorously.
"Yes, Paddy, yes, that's right. I think Joshua's wrong there and I think Paddy has presented to usthe choice we have to make. It's one we've come up against many times before and we've madedifferent choices in different circumstances. We have, in the past, as you know, gone for theperpetrators. Lists have beenmade and punishments dealt out. Now, I know in recent years we have been moving away fromsome of our previous tactics, but I think even Joely would agree this is really our biggest, mostfundamental test of that. We are dealing148 with seriously disturbed individuals. Now, on the other sideof things, we have also staged large-scale peaceful protests and supervised the release of thousandsof animals held captive by this state. In this case, we just won't have the time or opportunity toemploy both strategies. It's a very public place and well, we've been over that. As Paddy said, Ithink the choice we have on the 31st is quite simple. It's between the mouse and the man. Hasanyone got any problem with taking a vote on that? Joshua?"Joshua sat on his hands to lift himself up and give Joely better purchase on his upper backmassage. "No problem at all," he said.
On the 20th of December at precisely 00:00 hours, the phone rang in the Jones house. Meshuffled downstairs in her nightdress and picked up the receiver.
"Erhummmm. I would like you yourself to make a mental note of both the date and the timewhen I have chosen to ring you.""What? Er .. . what? Is that Ryan? Look, Ryan, I don't mean to be rude, but it's midnight, yeah?
Is there something you wanted or '
The? Pickney? You dere?""You granmuwer is on the telephone extension. She wished to talk to you also.""Irie," said Hortense excitably. "You gwan have to speak up, me kyan hear nuttin' '
The, I repeat: have you noted149 the date and the time of our call?""What? Look, I can't .. . I'm really tired .. . could this wait until"The 2oth, Irie. At O hundred hours. Twos and zeros .. .""You lissnin', pickney? Mr. Topps tryin' to explain so meting150 very im-par-tent.""Gran, you're going to have to talk one at a time .. . you just hauled me out of bed .. . I'm, like,totally knackered.""Twos and zeros, Miss Jones. Signifying the year 2000. And do you know the month of mycall?""Ryan, it's December. Is this really '
"The twelfth month, Me. Corresponding to the twelve tribes of the children of Israel. Of whicheach woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe of Judah woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe ofReuben woz sealed twelve thousand. Of the tribe of Gad-'
"Ryan, Ryan ... I get the picture.""There are certain days when the Lord wishes us to act certain pre-warning days, designateddays '
"Where we must be savin' de souls of de lost. Warnin' dem ahead of time.""We are warning you, Irie."Hortense began softly weeping. "We only tryin' to warn you, darling'.""OK. Great. I stand warned. Goodnight, all.""That is not the end of our warning," said Ryan solemnly. "That is simply the first warning.
There are more.""Don't tell me eleven more.""Oh!" cried Hortense, dropping the phone but still distantly audible. "She have been visited byde Lord! She know before she be tol'!""Look. Ryan. Could you somehow condense the other eleven warnings into one or at least, tellme the most important one? Otherwise, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go back to bed."There was a silence for a minute. Then: "Erhuuummm. Very well. Do not get involved with thisman.""Oh, Irie! Please lis sen to Mr. Topps! Please lis sen to 'imf""With what man?""Oh, Miss Jones. Please do not pretend you 'ave no knowledge of your great sin. Open yoursoul. Let the Lord let myself reach out for yourself, and wash you free of-'
"Look, I'm really fucking tired. What man?""The scientist, Chalfen. The man you call "friend" when in truth he is an enemy of allhumanity.""Marcus? I'm not involved with him. I just answer his phone and do his paperwork.""And thus are you made the secretary of the devil," said Ryan, prompting Hortense into moreand louder tears, 'thus is you yourself laid low.""Ryan, listen to me. I haven't got time for this. Marcus Chalfen is simply trying to come up withsome answers to shit like shit like cancer. O K? I don't know where you've been getting yourinformation, but I can assure you he ain't the devil incarnate151.""Only one of 'im minions152!" protested Hortense. "Only one of 'im front line troops!""Calm yourself, Mrs. B. I am afraid your granddaughter is too far gone for us. As I expected,since leaving us, she 'as joined the dark side.""Fuck you, Ryan, I'm not Darth Vader. Gran .. .""Don't tark to me, pickney, don't tark to me. I and I is bitterly disappointed.""It appears we will be seem' you on the 31st, then, Miss Jones.""Stop calling me Miss Jones, Ryan. The .. . what?""The 31st. The event will provide a platform for the Witness message. The world's press will bethere. And so will we. We intend '
"We gwan warn all a dem!" broke in Hortense. "And we gat it all plan out nice, see? We gwansing hymns153 with Mrs. Dobson on de accordion154, 'cos you kyan shif a piano all de way dere. An' wegwan hunger-strike until dat hevil man stop messin' wid de Lord's beauteous creation an' -'
"Hunger-strike? Gran, when you go without elevenses you getnauseous. You've never gone without food for more than three hours in your life. You'reeighty-five.""You forget," said Hortense with chilling curtness155, "I was born in strife156. Me a survivor157. A littleno-food don' frighten me.""And you're going to let her do that, are you, Ryan? She's eighty-five, Ryan. Eighty-five. Shecan't go on a hunger-strike."Tm tellin' you, Me," said Hortense, speaking loudly and clearly into the mouthpiece, "I want todo dis. I'm That boddered by a little lack of food. De Lord giveth wid 'im right hand and takethaway wid 'im left."Me listened to Ryan drop the phone, walk to Hortense's room and slowly ease the receiver fromher, persuading her to go to bed. Me could hear her grandmother singing as she was led down thehallway, repeating the phrase to no one in particular and setting it to no recognizable tune158: De Lord,giveth wid. 'im right hand. and. taketh away wid 'im left!
But most of the time, thought Me, he's simply a. thief in the night. He just taketh away. He justtaketh the fuck away.
Magid was proud to say he witnessed every stage. He witnessed the custom design of the genes.
He witnessed the germ injection. He witnessed the artificial insemination. And he witnessed thebirth, so different from his own. One mouse only. No battle down the birth canal, no first andsecond, no saved and unsaved. No pot-luck. No random159 factors. No you have your father's snoutand your mother's love of cheese. No mysteries lying in wait. No doubt as to when death will arrive.
No hiding from illness, no running from pain. No question about who was pulling the strings160. Nodoubtful omnipotence. No shaky fate. No question of a journey, no question of greener grass, forwherever this mouse went, its life would be precisely the same. It would not travel through time(and Time's a bitch, Magid knew that much now. Time is the bitch), because its future was equal toits presen which was equal to its past. A Chinese box of a mouse.
other roads, no missed opportunities, no parallel possibilities.
second-guessing, no what-ifs, no might-have-be ens Just certainty. '
Just certainty in its purest form. And what more, thought Magid lifeonce the witnessing was over, once the mask and gloves were ^P removed, once the white coatwas returned to its hook what more is God than that?
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persecution
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| n. 迫害,烦扰 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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profligacy
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| n.放荡，不检点，肆意挥霍 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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rejection
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| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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ideological
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| a.意识形态的 | |
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warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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ideologies
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| n.思想（体系）( ideology的名词复数 )；思想意识；意识形态；观念形态 | |
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ideology
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| n.意识形态，(政治或社会的)思想意识 | |
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elucidate
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| v.阐明，说明 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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sketchy
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| adj.写生的，写生风格的，概略的 | |
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repertoire
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| n.(准备好演出的)节目，保留剧目；(计算机的)指令表，指令系统， <美>(某个人的)全部技能；清单，指令表 | |
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inept
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| adj.不恰当的，荒谬的，拙劣的 | |
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tangible
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| adj.有形的，可触摸的，确凿的，实际的 | |
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faction
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| n.宗派，小集团；派别；派系斗争 | |
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fulsome
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| adj.可恶的，虚伪的，过分恭维的 | |
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diminutive
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| adj.小巧可爱的，小的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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omnipotence
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| n.全能，万能，无限威力 | |
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tautology
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| n.无谓的重复；恒真命题 | |
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elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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disillusioned
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| a.不再抱幻想的，大失所望的，幻想破灭的 | |
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radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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troublemaker
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| n.惹是生非者，闹事者，捣乱者 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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atrophy
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| n./v.萎缩，虚脱，衰退 | |
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bylines
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| n.报刊文章撰稿人签名处( byline的名词复数 )；署名；铁路支线；副业 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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virulent
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| adj.有毒的，有恶意的，充满敌意的 | |
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halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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gleaning
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| n.拾落穗，拾遗，落穗v.一点点地收集（资料、事实）( glean的现在分词 )；（收割后）拾穗 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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dedication
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| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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precedent
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| n.先例，前例；惯例；adj.在前的，在先的 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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ridiculed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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conspiratorially
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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conversion
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| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
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smacks
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| 掌掴（声）( smack的名词复数 )； 海洛因； （打的）一拳； 打巴掌 | |
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embedded
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| a.扎牢的 | |
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humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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fascists
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| n.法西斯主义的支持者( fascist的名词复数 ) | |
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darts
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| n.掷飞镖游戏；飞镖( dart的名词复数 )；急驰，飞奔v.投掷，投射( dart的第三人称单数 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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omnipotent
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| adj.全能的，万能的 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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82
steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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83
tabloid
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| adj.轰动性的，庸俗的；n.小报，文摘 | |
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84
trumps
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| abbr.trumpets 喇叭；小号；喇叭形状的东西；喇叭筒v.（牌戏）出王牌赢（一牌或一墩）( trump的过去式 )；吹号公告，吹号庆祝；吹喇叭；捏造 | |
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85
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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86
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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87
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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88
platonic
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| adj.精神的；柏拉图（哲学）的 | |
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89
experimentation
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| n.实验，试验，实验法 | |
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90
icon
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| n.偶像，崇拜的对象，画像 | |
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91
sniff
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| vi.嗅…味道；抽鼻涕；对嗤之以鼻，蔑视 | |
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92
fable
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| n.寓言；童话；神话 | |
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93
activists
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| n.（政治活动的）积极分子，活动家( activist的名词复数 ) | |
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94
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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95
pints
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| n.品脱( pint的名词复数 )；一品脱啤酒 | |
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96
spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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97
dole
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| n.救济，（失业）救济金；vt.（out）发放，发给 | |
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98
radicals
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| n.激进分子( radical的名词复数 )；根基；基本原理；[数学]根数 | |
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99
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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100
biosphere
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| n.生命层，生物圈 | |
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101
circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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102
credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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103
democrats
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| n.民主主义者，民主人士( democrat的名词复数 ) | |
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104
outlets
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| n.出口( outlet的名词复数 )；经销店；插座；廉价经销店 | |
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105
punctuated
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| v.（在文字中）加标点符号，加标点( punctuate的过去式和过去分词 )；不时打断某事物 | |
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106
beacon
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| n.烽火，（警告用的）闪火灯，灯塔 | |
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107
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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108
viable
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| adj.可行的，切实可行的，能活下去的 | |
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109
tactic
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| n.战略，策略；adj.战术的，有策略的 | |
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110
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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111
interpretation
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| n.解释，说明，描述；艺术处理 | |
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112
radicalism
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| n. 急进主义, 根本的改革主义 | |
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113
coverage
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| n.报导，保险范围，保险额，范围，覆盖 | |
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114
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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115
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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116
perilously
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| adv.充满危险地，危机四伏地 | |
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117
narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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118
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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119
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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120
landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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121
inexplicably
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| adv.无法说明地，难以理解地，令人难以理解的是 | |
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122
squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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123
kiln
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| n.（砖、石灰等）窑，炉；v.烧窑 | |
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124
bemoaning
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| v.为（某人或某事）抱怨( bemoan的现在分词 )；悲悼；为…恸哭；哀叹 | |
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125
surmised
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| v.臆测，推断( surmise的过去式和过去分词 )；揣测；猜想 | |
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126
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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127
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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128
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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129
tattoo
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| n.纹身，(皮肤上的)刺花纹；vt.刺花纹于 | |
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130
pricked
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| 刺，扎，戳( prick的过去式和过去分词 )； 刺伤； 刺痛； 使剧痛 | |
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131
horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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132
protracted
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| adj.拖延的；延长的v.拖延“protract”的过去式和过去分词 | |
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133
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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134
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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135
coveting
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| v.贪求，觊觎( covet的现在分词 ) | |
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136
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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137
jealousy
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| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
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138
hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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139
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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140
versus
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| prep.以…为对手，对；与…相比之下 | |
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141
interceded
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| v.斡旋，调解( intercede的过去式和过去分词 )；说情 | |
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142
ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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143
aggression
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| n.进攻，侵略，侵犯，侵害 | |
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144
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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145
bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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146
massage
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| n.按摩，揉；vt.按摩，揉，美化，奉承，篡改数据 | |
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147
genes
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| n.基因( gene的名词复数 ) | |
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148
dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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149
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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150
meting
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| v.（对某人）施以，给予（处罚等）( mete的现在分词 ) | |
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151
incarnate
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| adj.化身的，人体化的，肉色的 | |
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152
minions
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| n.奴颜婢膝的仆从( minion的名词复数 )；走狗；宠儿；受人崇拜者 | |
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153
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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154
accordion
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| n.手风琴；adj.可折叠的 | |
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155
curtness
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| n.简短；草率；简略 | |
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156
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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157
survivor
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| n.生存者，残存者，幸存者 | |
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158
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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159
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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160
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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