[a text written on the impeachment process taking place as of now in Brazil]
all flows of projection and desire directed to the national congress at this moment. a real hivemind of libido processes causes and consequences of the impeachment/coup. thousands of repressed middle class proto-sexual tensions await for the final moment of little death. victory or ordeal, all will come from joy or derision.
televisional drama is used to build up the atmosphere, spice it up, produce palpitations. Galvão Bueno could narrate it with “haja coração”. everybody thinking only about that. of the moment when their favorite historical narrative make it to history books: the holy scriptures, brought straight from the catacombs of the real, occult mystery.
politics is a bad myth, produced by actors who don’t know much about history or culture (never read Lévi-Strauss either). democracy is a god on an altar, being sacrificed by heretics. but heroes are ready to come to its rescue. the damsel in distress will be saved at the end of the day.
that right and left believe the myth is no surprise, since they live in the myth. the exist through it. it only the myth’s vigour that can make them take physical form. of course, the other tribe are simply violent barbarians, guided by lying tyrants, believers of a false religion. but both believe the myth. the wind and the fog.
behind avatars and interfaces, the mechanical process that rules all masks proceeds inexorably. machines are profane, and thinking about them is already a sin. the reality of the hardware must remain obscure for the software that thinks itself transcendental and moral. practical reason is camouflage par excellence. the Old Ones have no need for faces.
the tears, the catchphrases, the cracking voice, the conviction, the evoked symbols, the suits, the laughter. soon the curtains will close. the spectacle will await applause and hoot.
and then the show goes on.