Survivors and historians stressed that it was impossible that there could be a darker time in the always regrettable history of humanity than the events of the two world wars. But current times and what may come give serious competition to these long darknesses. In the 19th century, Dickens wrote at the beginning of A Tale of Two Cities that his era had both a front and a back: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, the age of wisdom and also of Madness.” A time of belief and disbelief, the age of light and darkness, the spring of hope and the winter of despair.” If I had to talk about the present, I would perhaps reduce this description by half. I might add: “It was the despotic and brutalizing empire of technology.”
And there are probably not a few of us who share Neruda’s bleak lament: “It happens that I am tired of being a man.” His sequel is also not to be neglected: “It happens that I become withered, impenetrable , like a felt swan, sailing in a water of origin and ash, entering tailor shops and cinemas.” “I don’t want to suffer so much misfortune and die of grief.” Well, it doesn’t matter if you get tired. They will continue to screw you over. It is the natural order of things.
I see the shabby and terrible theater that those in power have created to legitimize the indefensible, with pathetic actors reciting tired and embarrassing lines. What a dirty job to earn a salary. And I remember Borges’s ever-utopian wish: “I believe that in time we will deserve not to have governments.” 70% of employee votes. It is democratic, civil. And the empty voice is useless. Lies and abuse are legitimate.
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