When they arrive at Buchenwald, Eliezer's father is too weak to go on and begs his son to let him sleep in the snow. After much argument, Eliezer goes to the barracks and falls asleep. The next morning he searches for his father but half hopes that he doesn't find him. He eventually finds him and spends much time taking care of him, giving him his own rations of coffee, soup, and bread. Knowing that he is about to die of dysentery, Eliezer's father tries to tell his son where the gold is buried. Eliezer's father is repeatedly attacked by his bunkmates and has his food stolen from him. The doctor refuses to examine him, and the head of the block advises Eliezer to eat his father's rations. When his father calls to Eliezer for water, an SS guard shatters his skull with a truncheon. His father does not die, but his body is removed the next day, January 29, 1945. Eliezer is ashamed that he is somewhat relieved to be free of him.
Critical Mass doesn’t have to answer to anyone’s measurement about efficaciousness. It is not an instrumentalized experience designed to “achieve” something. It is real life, open and flexible, and as a persistent reality on the last Friday of every month, it is always there to be reclaimed, repurposed, and reanimated by anyone who cares to make the effort. I’m glad it’s still going. It’s not something we do to score political points or to gain any particular demands. It’s an expression of life itself, and it is still a chance to taste however fleetingly a brief moment of another way of life, one not dominated by the frenzied rush to and fro from work and home, not reduced to buying and selling, an experience that is valuable for living it, and smelling it, and sharing it… and nothing more.