EU VIVO CRITICANDO

"A fé na remove montanhas,
apenas coloca montanhas
onde não há nenhuma"

FRIEDRICH NIEZTSCHE
Filósfo alemão com o rigor anglo-saxônico dos alemães.





Eu vivo criticando.Porque nasci e fui criado num ambiente de críticas, fossem justas ou injustas.Não eram propriamente críticas, mas reprimendas.
E de uma mulher que eu julgava inferior intelectualmente a mim, embora fosse muito hábil em cozinhar e fazer certos negócios ilícitos para ter aquele patrimônio decadente que ela tem.
Ela não é perfeita, é humana.
Eu não sou perfeito, fui humano.
Não vou ficar fazendo inventários do que ela possui e como adquiriu o que possui.
Mas posso citar, por exemplo, que durante algum tempo o seu colégio tinha um gato.A COELCE pode averiguar.
Eu disse tinha.Porque averiguação de medidores de luz não é a minha especialidade.
O que eu aprendi com essa professora primária, sozinha, sem marido, que tentou me criar e criar uma filha que tem predisposição ao alcoolismo?
Eu aprendi que a gente tem que ser eficiente e preocupado o tempo todo.Porque ela com o rosário na mão, não leu
a parábola:

"Olhai os lírios do campo
Eles não fiam,
Eles não tecem
e nem Salomão
em toda sua glória
e em todo o seu fausto
jamais conseguiu se vestir
com toda beleza
pelo criador e geômetra do Universo"

Jesus, o não-CRISTHUS. E sim, hebreu.

E eu o que aprendi até agora com as instituições do patriarcado judaico-cristão?
Que o patriarcado se baseia no pátrio poder.
O poder de vida e morte sobre a esposa, o filho, o neto, o servo.

Sim.Eu sei disso, consegui ler e escrever, porque aquela mãe que me adotou, cheia de problemas gerados pelos excessos e desmandos do patriarcado, me ensinou a ler ou a escrever.
Quer dizer, tentou. Mas não conseguiu.
Porque embora fosse professora do MOBRAL.
Comigo, o seu método de eu fixar as sílabas alfabetizadoras
sempre eram pontuados por cascudos no meu cucuruto.

Como manda a tradição dos sertanejos de onde ela saiu e ora ama e ora detesta.
Portanto, eu não odeio a minha mãe.Eu não quero matá-la.
Mas ela é doente.
E eu não sou geriatra.

O meu pai legítimo, que deve existir, porque eu sou fruto
das combinações enzimáticas
entre óvulo e espermatozóide.
Assim, ensina o cânone da genética ocidental.
Pois bem, esse meu pai legítimo, eu não sei quem é.


Então, da presença opressiva da minha mãe na infância e de sua total ausência na adolescência
e da ausência do meu pai legítimo.
O que eu fiz?
Minha mãe, não me entendia.Não conseguíamos estabelecer uma língua comum entre nós.
Mas todos os dias ela trazia um livro do Conselho de Moradores do Bairro João XXIII.
Eu não sabia ler suas sílabas, mas fiquei encantado com as imagens e com a preocupação de minha mãe em trazer um livro para mim.
Como eu não era alfabetizado, mas vivia num ambiente letrado, ainda que com probições de certos conteúdos, porque nasci na Ditadura Médicci, fiquei vendo aquelas imagens.
O vereador Maurílio Assêncio sempre deixava uma porta aberta no Conselho de Moradores do Bairro João XXIII, em que eu curioso, malino, entrava sem ninguém perceber e fica xeretando um boneco de carnaval que ele usava em certas festas do bairro João XXIII.Um boneco grande, tipo aqueles de Olinda em Pernambuco.
O vereador Maurílio Assêncio sempre trazia para o bairro João XXIII, eu disse JOÃO XXIII.
Um bumba-meu-boi para a criançada e seus pais pobres e de baixo poder aquisitivo ficar vendo a cultura popular.
E sabe o que me chamou a atenção naquele Bumba-meu-boi que ele sempre trazia?
Não era o boi, afinal nunca tive interesse em ser pecuarista.
Mas um bicho esquisito, grandão, que fazia medo os meninos, um bicho que parecia um pássaro, mas que tinha dentes.

Eu na minha imaginação de criança, enquanto a meninada corria com medo do bicho para fazer hora, para se divertir.

Eu não corria com medo, não.
Eu ficava observando aquele bicho curioso.
Seu corpo era grande e colorido.
Mas eu acho que eu conseguia perceber que havia um homem por debaixo
daquele bicho, manipulando o bicho.
E comecei a prestar atenção na boca do bicho.
Era cheia de dentes, e dentes afiados, famintos.
E ficava observando e intrigado:
Peraí esse bicho colorido, feito de pano, que tem aparência de pássaro,
mas tem dentes
não parece com nenhum bicho que tem no meu quintal.

E que bicho era aquele?

Não sei.Devia ser fruto da imaginação do artista que o fez, que o costurou, que o manipulou.

Mas como tenho BOA MEMÓRIA
os meus esquemas cognitivos
dispararam um FRAME:
esse bicho parece com a aquele bicho
que eu vi ontem
no canal 5.
O canal 5
TV EDUCATIVA
PÚBLICA
DO GOVERNO MILITAR
QUE EXIBIA
aulas de Biologia,
Fisiologia,
Anatomia,
Paleontologia,
Arqueologia.

O frame que me veio a cabeça
foi a de um DINOSSAURO.

Portanto, desde criança
que eu tenho interesse por coisas
que assustam.

Estudar
como certos monstros se locomovem,
como eles devoram,
como eles vomitam,
como eles defecam.

E o que eu concluí disso tudo?
É que no Brasil
as pessoas que manipulam mamulengos e
os que estudam o funcioamento
mecânico
de monstros orgânicos
e inorgânicos
ganham pouco.

Por isso,
quero ir embora
desse país
e ir
para outro
país
onde as minhas
obssessões
sejam tratadas e acompanhadas
por especialistas bem remunerados.

EM FRENTE A IGREJA PRESTO A ATENÇÃO NO SINO

Em frente a igreja da Praça do Carmo
Humanos se casam.
Suas sogras, seus sogros, seus filhos, seus netos, seus corpos de sangue,
seus estômagos e intestinos, seu futuro PÓ.

E eu que não sou humano, mas o era em 1996
presto atenção no que realmente interessa:
Porque o sino da igreja do Carmo
badalou às 3 horas da manhã
quando não havia nenhum ser de carne, nervos, bolo fecal
a badalar seu pêndulo.

E aí eu entendi
que eu não sou desse mundo.

HOMENAGEM MAL FEITA A TOM ZÉ

Este texto tem todos os defeitos da minha prática escritural: não serão informadas as fontes, não serão informados os nomes certos das faixas fonográficas analisadas, não serão informados os créditos da faixa técnica do encarte do CD, porque ouvi o material fonográfico, o "corpus" de um arquivo de MP3 baixado "criminosamente" da internet.

Esse texto tem outros defeitos recorrentes de minha prática escritural: esse exercício auto-referencial obssesivo de ficar explicando os defeitos da minha prática escritural.Ou seja, a minha prática escritural tem algo de fagocitose sobre si mesma, como uma ameba que resolvesse devorar a si mesma num gesto desesperado de quem procura comida na geladeira ou na dispensa e não encontra.

E o que realmente fará a "porra" desse texto, desse maldito e vaidoso texto?
Esse texto pretende, eu disse pretende, repito, analisar a obra do compositor baiano, filho do município de Irará: TOM ZÉ.

Quem foi TOM ZÉ, eu disse TOM ZÉ e não TOM JOBIM.Quem foi?
TOM ZÉ foi e é um compositor nascido no território brasileiro e que começou a se destacar na mídia na época do finado TROPICALISMO.
Sua música "São Paulo" deve ter ganho algum prêmio ou colocação em algum festival da RECORD.
E também TOM ZÉ está na capa do disco-manifesto da Tropicália. Onde tem um finado ilustre lá no meio: TORQUATO NETO.

A obra de TOM ZÉ consegue juntar dois inimigos jurados de morte: O Ariano Suassuna armorial e o atonalismo de KOLLREUTER.

E isso fica patente em sua trilha-sonora de um balé de um grupo de dança, que deve ter sido o balé CORPO.

Tom Zé gosta de brincar com o passado como no cd "ESTUDANDO O SAMBA", elogiado pelo desagradável e cacafônico KOLLREUTER.O genial e experimental KOLLREUTER. E num espírito paródico Tom Zé acabou gravando o cd 'Estudando o Pagode", como se houvesse algo a estudar no Alexandre Pires ou no Harmonia do Samba. Cada um que estude o que quiser, tendo a bolsa da CAPES ou não.Cada doido com suas manias.E que doido genial é o Tom Zé.

A Tropicália teve o seu lado A, genial e midiático:Caetano Veloso, Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa, mas também teve seu lado B: Wally Saloormon, Jards Macalé e o suicida Torquato Neto.Tom Zé sempre foi do lado B da tropicália, embora tivesse amizade com o lado A.

E chegou a fazer sucesso por causa da repercusssão sobre sua música cantando as ruas sujas de São Paulo.Mas na década de 70 Tom Zé resolveu sabotar o seu próprio sucesso lançando o esquisitíssimo cd 'Todos os olhos', onde há um ânus com uma bila dentro.E a capa irritou os censores da ditadura, que não lembro agora se era apenas uma ditadura de aparato militar ou também de aparato econômico.Que importa, ditadura é sempre ditadura.Seja a ditadura de Fidel Castro, de George W. Bush, Saddam Hussein, Mikhail Gorbatschov,Stálin, Trotsky ou da ditadura da coluna Durruti da Espanha.Ditadura é sempre ditadura.

E em seguida conseguiu juntar seus trocados de professor da faculdade de música da Bahia e ficar gravando os seus próximos discos sem despertar o interesse do programa Flávio Cavalcanti.

Só que suas contas foram se acumulando e a esposa dele começou a ficar preocupada com a dispensa da casa, enquanto seu marido perdia tempo com compassos, harmonia, melodia, ritmo, tonal, modal e todas essas besteiras que não interessam aos programadores das FM's forrozeiras da cidade de Fortaleza.

Tom Zé estava ficando tão desesperado com a magreza de sua esposa fiel, que começou a pensar em aceitar o convite de ser frentista num posto de gasolina oferecido gentilmente por seu primo frentista de um posto de gasolina.

Só que em algum lugar do planeta, mas precisamente numa loja de discos de alguma capital brasileira, o compositor americano David Byrne, topou com um disco estranhíssimo na seção de samba de uma loja de discos do Brasil.O disco lhe chamou a atenção, um daquele vinis grandes, que dá pra ver a capa de papelão, toma espaço, arranha, exige um pick-up que preste e uma agulha de alta sensibilidade.Pois bem, David Byrne tinha esse hábito de comprar esses vinis velhos, esses bolachões aposentados pela indústria fonográfica, até porque como ele é americano, ele tem dinheiro para comprar pick-ups e agulhas de alta sensibilidade para ouvir discos de vinil ou até de cera ou acetato ou sei lá.Talvez o professor Cristiano Câmera possa nos explicar melhor qual a diferença entre um disco de acetato, de um gramofone, de um disco de cera, embora, ao contrário de David Byrne, o professor Cristiano Câmera não receba nenhum centavo para essas pesquisas, nem ele, nem o NIREZ, nem ninguém no Brasil. O Brasil prefere investir em coisas mas úteis, como por exemplo, a melhor maneira de poluir os rios, os lençóis freáticos, os povos ribeirinhos, o povo sertanejo naqueles mega-projetos de que eu falei antes, não percamos tempo com o que já foi falado.
Sim.Mas o que chamou tanto a atenção do americano David Byrne naquele disco do Tom Zé numa seção de samba?

A capa.

Uma capa de disco de samba cheia de arames farpados.Que coisa estranha para se pôr na capa de um disco de samba. E isso levou David Byrne a comprar o disco.Ele nem sabia quem era Tom Zé.Ele conhecia o lado A da tropicália.Mas o lado B, não.

E ficou maravilhado com o que ouviu.Era algo novo, esquisito, fora do prumo.Era samba mas tinha compassos novos, era algo timbrístico.Muito esquisito.

E Tom Zé lá estava coitado, professor da faculdade de música, a atender clientes endinheirados que chegavam no posto de gasolina.Quando de repente David Byrne entra em contato com ele.

Resumo:por causa de David Byrne e do seu selo musical, hoje Tom Zé é ouvido no mundo todo.

A música de Tom Zé é irônica, paródica, auto-referencial, metalinguística, metamusical.E por isso jamais tocará no programa do Faustão, mais interesssado no ADO ADO CADA UM NO SEU QUADRADO.

Mas Tom Zé tem seu público.Faz seus shows.E tem dinheiro para regar suas plantas e alimentar sua esposa.

CRÍTICA AO 59º SALÃO DE ABRIL NO TERMINAL DO SIQUEIRA

"No dia em que os teares tecerem sozinhos

e as cítaras tocarem sozinhas, o homem será livre”

Aristóteles, filósofo da Grécia Antiga.

Esta resenha pretende analisar as obras do 59º Salão de Abril - Mostra Nacional de Artes Visuais - Arte: Desejo e Resistência, realizado de 14/Out/08 a 23?Nov/08 dentro do Terminal de ônibus do Siqueira. O evento foi promovido pela SECULTFOR, orgão da Prefeitura Municipal de Fortaleza.

Teve a curadoria de Andrés I. M. Hérnandez, Ricardo Resende e Siegbert Franklin.

Esta resenha não intenta cobrir o evento como um todo, que se realizou em três lugares: o terminal de ônibus do Siqueira (na região sul de Fortaleza, área extremamente pobre), no terminal do ônibus do Papicú (na região leste de Fortaleza, a chamada área nobre da cidade) e no Centro de Referência do Professor (que fica no Centro da capital cearense).

Pretende-se aqui apenas analisar as obras expostas no Terminal de ônibus do Siqueira.

Fazer crítica de artes-plásticas é uma tarefa quase ingrata e quase inútil, quando se parte do pressuposto de que o crítico seria uma espécie de relações públicas a divulgar artistas (Terry Eagleton).A Tarefa se torna inútil, porque muitas vezes quando finalmente o leitor tem acesso a crítica, a exposição já tem saído de cartaz. Diferentemente da crítica literária. Quando examino a obra do poeta paulista Roberto Piva, por mais marginal que ele tenha sido um dia, rabiscando poemas em guardanapos de papel nos bares infectos da boêmia de São Paulo, hoje pode-se encontrar a obra do poeta transgressor quase toda editada ou relançada nas livrarias pela Editora Globo.

Já em se tratando de crítica de artes-plásticas temos uma série de problemas.

O primeiro deles:se a crítica não vier acompanhada de ilustrações, tudo ficará muito no plano da abstração. Além disso, no caso da arte contemporânea não basta apenas a crítica vir acompanhada de suas respectivas reproduções fotográficas. Já que na contemporaneidade as condições ambientais, ou até a ausência delas, faz parte do gesto artístico. Assim, não basta reproduzir os posteres fotográficos que ficaram fixados nas paredes de uma parte do terminal (Não informo o nome da artista porque não havia folder nem o monitor tinha o catálogo com o nome da mesma), pois quem sabe se o fato do deslocamento dos ônibus no interior do terminal, proporcionando momentos em que os pôsteres eram vistos e outros em que eram tapados 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pelos ônibus, não faz parte da intenção da artista? Ou seja, não seria aí também os motoristas de ônibus uma espécie de co-autores das obras? Seria difícil reproduzir isso em fotos.

Outro problema de se fazer crítica de artes-plásticas em comparação com a crítica literária: é que na crítica literária conto com o sossego de um escritório, de um quarto e de um livro que tiro ou recoloco na estante conforme a conveniência.

Já a crítica de artes-plásticas é extremamente desconfortável. Uma vez para cobrir uma exposição do Centro Cultural Banco do Nordeste, tive de ficar agachado ou sentado no chão enquanto preenchia meu caderno de anotações, pois as obras que estava analisando foram dispostas numa vitrine rente ao chão.

Nessa exposição em particular, no 1º dia em que fui vê-la, fui num horário próximo do rush e o terminal estava ficando muito cheio, esfumaçado e barulhento. No 2º dia em que fui num horário mais cedo, uma das vídeos-instalações apresentou problemas técnicos. E o vídeo não foi exibido e o monitor de TV estava desligado.

Tudo isso são imprevistos que o crítico literário, no conforto de sua casa e tomando seu café, nunca terá.

A 1ª obra analisada é do cearense Luiz Sales, cujo título é 8.É uam instalação usando a técnica da fotografia.

Num suporte de 200x400 cm, vemos duas fotografias justapostas. Numa delas é um clique fotográfico sobre uma cena banal no centro da cidade de Fortaleza: pessoas atravessando uma rua em frente ao Edifício Sulamérica. Tudo isso seria banal aqui, se o fotógrafo por um processo digital (tipo Photoshop) não tivesse tirado as cabeças e rostos dessas pessoas atravessando a rua. Causando um visível efeito de estranhamento. E na foto ao lado há um esboço de rosto feito em negro sobre fundo branco.

Quando vi os homens sem cabeça e sem rosto atravessando a rua, lembrei do conceito sociológico do sujeito sem rosto, sem identidade da pós-modernidade. E o esboço de rosto ao lado dessa foto, sugere um rosto sem traços identitários definidos, pois o rosto não exibe marcas de classe social, poder aquisitivo, faixa-etária, etnia e até gênero, o que nos sugere o conceito das identidades fluidas e líquidas de Zigmunt Bauman.

A 2ª obra analisada é Sem Título do cearense Caio Danieli. A técnica utilizada é a fotografia e impressão digital sobre tecido.

O monitor da exposição me informou algo curioso: a fotografia foi tirada numa câmera tipo pinhole, que são aquelas câmeras artesanais muito rudimentares, utilizadas por oficineiros para dar aulas de fotografia para alunos carentes que não tem dinheiro para comprar um câmera profissional.

O efeito plástico dessa foto foi muito bom. Devido a baixa qualidade e a baixa resolução, a imagem ficou com um efeito poroso, granulado.

E o que se vê é uma paisagem marinha bem comum aos fortalezenses. Nela aparece um pedaço da ponte dos Ingleses, também conhecida por Ponte Metálica. Justamente aquele pedaço em que o acesso do público é proibido; a ferrugem, a maresia, buracos na argamassa deixaram a edificação em ruínas.

Há algo de metáfora aqui. Trazer parte do oceano atlântico para dentro da região mais afastada do litoral de Fortaleza. Seria uma brincadeira do artista com aquela profecia de que o mar em 2012 vai atingir até a Serra do Maranguape, devido a um suposto cataclisma geológico, previsto por um pai-de-santo e que já faz parte do anedotário da cidade?

Pode também ser uma alusão a questão dos deslocamentos e das desterritorializações proporcionadas pela tecnologia. Pois os usuários do Terminal do Siqueira, que estão vendo a réplica daquela paisagem, poderão vê-la pessoalmente, pois do terminal há intinerários de ônibus que levam para Praia de Iracema.

Isso não seria possível antes do advento da civilização do automóvel, dos ônibus coletivos e da rodoviarização forçada da paisagem brasileira, depois do Governo Juscelino Kubtschek, totalmente submisso à indústria automobilística.

Enquanto na Europa as pessoas vão para o trabalho ou para o lazer através do transporte ferroviário, que polui bem menos e mata bem menos também.

A 3ª obra é do paranaense Charles Klitze: Revistimento/Reinvestimento em desenho de gênero II. Intervenção feita através da impressão de cartazes off-set.

Na obra vários cartazes com o mesmo motivo foram colados. Neles há um pugilista desferindo socos. Pode estar fazendo uma crítica à violência urbana que se multiplicou no cenário caótico das cidades. Sinalizando que vivemos numa era tensionada de conflitos.

Pode ser também uma paródia com o modismo do Muay-Thay, praticado tanto por gente séria, como por doidinhos que querem sair por aí dando porradas em homossexuais e empregadas domésticas, que esperam a condução na parada de ônibus. Falo em paródia, porque o traço utilizado nos remete ao universo das histórias em quadrinhos.

A 4ª obra analisada é a da cearense Cláudia Sampaio, que usou técnicas diversas como pintura direta na parede com pincel atômico, lápis, guache, colagens de recortes, detalhes fotográficos e objetos do cotidiano colados na parede.

A obra possui um texto verbal que sugere uma leitura, mas devido a disposição caótica intencional, o espectador fica sem a indicação de um percurso de leitura específico. Pois a cada momento que se tenta ler, a frase é interrompida por um desenho, ou por outra frase superposta em outra cor, a sugerir o estado emocional perturbado da artista.

A monitora explicou que a artista sofreu recentemente a experiência do luto com um parente e que parece ter havido violência sexual nesse homicídio.

A obra mostra elementos icônicos que sugerem cortes, rupturas, perdas, sobreposições. Há beleza nessa caos, mas também há dor.

A 5ª obra analisada é dos cearenses do Themis Memória: Uni-forme.É uma instalação em que há um relógio de ponto antigo, tv e dvd.

No primeiro dia em que fui ver a obra, o vídeo funcionava.

O que é a obra? Aparentemente um relógio de ponto, só que no lugar do relógio, foi colocado um monitor de tv que fica exibindo uma video-arte.

No 1º dia que fui consegui ver a vídeo-arte. E no 2º dia que fui com o caderno de anotações, o vídeo estava desligado por problemas técnicos.

Pelo que entendi Themis Memória não é uma pessoa, mas um grupo de artistas. O vídeo foi editado por Frederico Benevides e contou com a perfomance do seguinte elenco: David da Paz, Taya Lópis, Balbucio. Contou ainda com a parceria de João Paulo Ribeiro e Luiz Pratti.

A trilha-sonora é assinada por Narcílio Grud.

As fotografias presentes no vídeo são de João Wilke, Reginaldo Freitas e Haroldo Sabóia.

Vou descrever o que acontece com o espectador nessa obra. Ele chega e vê um relógio de ponto antigo analógico e um pequeno fichário antigo cheio de cartões de ponto usados.

No cartão está escrito: - Bata Ponto.

O verbo no imperativo sugere a atmosfera autoritária do mundo do trabalho.

Como o relógio de ponto é antigo, talvez a obra queira sugerir que estamos num mundo marcado pelo desemprego e que assim como o relógio de ponto, o trabalho é uma relíquia do passado.

Então se não temos mais o pelourinho 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moderno que é o relógio de ponto para nos atanazar, então seria o momento de comemorar a liberdade de um mundo sem trabalho e marcado pelo ócio? (Bob Black em Abolição do Trabalho). Errado.Não é o que sugere o tom e a trilha-sonora da vídeo-arte. Nela pessoas se movimentam em cima de um palco repetindo movimentos mecânicos, como se batessem ponto, com uma iluminação sombria a sugerir o ambiente insalubre das fábricas, que um dia o homem foi condenado a suportar e que hoje foi expulso delas pelas inovações tecnológicas, pela automação do trabalho e por certos modelos de gestão da cadeia produtiva, como o toyotismo, que provocaram o enxugamento do quadro de pessoal.

A vídeo-arte tem interferências de fotografias e recortes de anúncios publicitários, sugerindo que esse homem pós-moderno está angustiado não por ter perdido o trabalho ou por nunca ter ter conseguido se inserir no mercado de trabalho, mas por não ter como consumir as mercadorias que lhe são oferecidas diariamente pela publicidade e que ele desesperado não tem poder aquisitivo para comprá-las.

Outras reflexões também são sugeridas aqui. Mesmo que o homem pós-moderno esteja desempregado em grandes contigentes urbanos ou rurais, será que sua psiquê está desempregada? Ou para ser mais claro, depois dos 200 anos da Revolução Industrial, que trouxe outro uso do tempo e do espaço terrestres, que trouxe outros ritmos e pulsações...pois o homem que passou 200 anos cumprindo horários, prazos, obedecendo ordens e produzindo mercadorias nos ritmos frenéticos ditados pelas leis implacáveis da ecomomia de mercado, estaria esse homem preparado para esse repentino e compulsório excesso de tempo livre, provocado pelo desemprego estrutural?

Vamos esmiuçar mais este raciocínio. Há 200 anos que o homem vinha sendo usado como engrenagem de uma grande máquina de produção.Sendo controlado pela produção, ao invés de controlá-la como tentaram fazer na revolução de caráter anarquista na Espanha de 1936 ou como sugere a crítica do fetichismo da mercadoria da obra do filósofo alemão Karl Marx. O homem se via pautado pelos ritmos cadenciados e militarizados do trabalho, ora no taylorismo ora no fordismo. De uma certa forma, a instrumentalização do ser humano provocada pelas necessidades do produtivismo capitalista marcou também a subjetividade do ser humano. Tanto que o o ser humano trouxe certos hábitos da fábrica ou do escritório para sua vida pessoal.

Hoje,por exemplo, quando alguém termina um namoro com outro pessoa, há até a expressão: 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Eu dei as contas de fulano ontem na festa\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\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O conceito cínico networking, que consiste na necessidade das pessoas atualmente serem sempre simpáticas, ficarem mostrando os dentes o tempo todo e evitarem certos atritos ou conversas mais profundas com os colegas e amigos, no intuito de que esse colega ou amigo não pode ser descartado, porque pode estar nele a dica ou a indicação do próximo emprego ou do próximo bico ou trabalho temporário, que levará a comprar aquela TV de 29 polegas de Plasma, que está cientificamente comprovada que ninguém pode passar sem ela. Assim, o networking difundido por conceitos como DATA-MARKETING, veiculados por revistas idiotas como a Você S/a, nada mais é do que Roberto Kurz chamou sarcasticamente de relações de freguesia. Então, o que seriam as amizades hoje em dia? Oportunidades de negócio.

Assim, insistimos, o homem pode até estar desempregado, mas sua psiquê continua batendo cartões de ponto em todos os lugares.

Para terminar a análise da obra do relógio de ponto, vale ainda destacar que de cada lado do relógio de ponto há uma gravura de uma mulher nua pintada em branco sobre fundo azul. Eletrodos de uma máquina foram instalados em sua vagina e em seu cérebro, constituindo uma sinistra simbiose homem-máquina, sugerida por certos modelos de gestão de trabalho como o toyotismo, que liquidou totalmente a vida familiar dos trabalhadores, que ainda permanecem empregados - falo aqui da nefasta prática da folga cinco por um.

A mulher na gravura parece emitir um espasmo de dor e os traços lembram algo da ficção-científica Blade Runner ou do artista Moebius, nesse pequeno quadro sádico em que se tornou o capitalismo transnacional vitorioso com as bençãos das esquerdas e direitas administradoras.

Na 6ª obra analisada, a paulista Heloísa Etelvina: Filatelista, feita com gravura - 1,92x3,10 cm, selos fictícios, tipografias e carimbos compõe um painel que de longe lembraria algo na confluência entre o rigor do construtivismo geomético e o abstracionismo. De perto, o espectador ao se aproximar percebe que há selos que tem letras, sílabas, que remeteriam a uma língua que tivesse fonética, morfologia e até sintaxe, mas que não tem semântica. Posto que as letras e sílabas não formam frases nem textos. Ou formam palavras de uma língua inexistente.

Talvez Etelvina queira referir-se a uma época, em que o bombardeio de informações diárias proporcionado pelos meios de comunicação de massa, mais tumultuam a mente do receptor, do que informam. Ou então, seria uma alusão a partir do significante do selo ficticio de que as comunicações atualmente estão mais cheias de ruído, do que de sentido.

Na 7ª obra Antonio Rocha: Seres Naturais (o monitor não soube informar a naturalidade do artista) feita de gravuras com tinta serigráfica num suporte de tecido. As cores utilizadas foram jogadas em jorros furiosos e explosivos sobre a tela num fundo branco. Os matizes foram o preto, o branco, o cinza e o magenta. E o efeito plástico produzido nos remete a um expressionismo abstrato que resolve cantar o disforme, o grotesco, o feio e o sujo realçado pelo excesso de preto, a simular talvez a fuligem presente em terminais de ônibus.

Na 8ª obra da cearense Ivanize, a artista usou a técnica de lambe-lambe, pintura sobre papel.

Foram coladas nas paredes do terminal. Há uma adolescente colegial. Há uma concha gigante de que saem pernas femininas e há uma mulher com mala querendo sair, migrar para algum lugar, mas dos seus pés brotam raízes que a impedem de sair.

Que percurso de leituras podemos fazer desses significantes? A associação com o universo feminino é automática. A mulher-menina adolescente na escola, que deve ir à escola para aprender a ser uma mãe ou trabalhadora eficiente e submissa. A mulher escondida numa concha gigante que poderia ser o útero, mas também pode ser o ostracismo imposto à mulher durante muitos anos e uma mulher que finalmente resolve deixar a casa do pai, do marido, do companheiro que a oprime, mas que ao mesmo tempo, já se enraizou no que é familiar, ainda que ruim e teme a insegurança e a imprevisibilidade do desconhecido.

E por último a obra do cearense Gentil Barreira: Espelho Meu II.Fotografia - 200x 90, impressão espelhada adesivada sobre PVC.

Em duas fotos um homem e uma mulher de corpo inteiro vestidos e mal iluminados.

A iluminação é suficiente apenas para mostrar os contornos do corpo e certas partes do colorido das roupas.A impressão que se tem é de que estão num provador de roupas dessas lojas de departamento.

Os rostos de ambos estão escurecidos.

A pergunta que a obra de Gentil Barreira nos faz é: qual o contorno do homem e da mulher contemporâneos? E se o refletor se acendesse sobre seus rostos, o que veríamos? Que tipo de homem e que tipo de mulher a pós-modernidade produziu em meio ao patriarcado judaico-cristão agonizante, como se depreende da obra de João Silvério Trevisan ( Seis balas num buraco só: A Crise do masculino - Ed. Record), da feminista alemã Roswita Scholz e as seduções da sociedade de consumo, da indústria de comésticos como se depreende da obra de Gilles Lipovetsky?

Termino aqui minha contribuição crítica.Não quiz com ela encerrar um debate, mas provocar seu início.

Charles Odevan Xavier

Mestrando em Letras pela UFC.

EL 'GRAN NIVELADOR', EL CRISTIANISMO; Y SUS REFORMADORES, LOS DIFERENTES 'ISMOS'.

EL 'GRAN NIVELADOR', EL CRISTIANISMO: Y SUS REFORMADORES, LOS DIFERENTES 'ISMOS'

Este estudo é uma tentativa de tradução do texto homônimo publicado no jornal "libres y salvajes', Primavera de 2005, número 6 - uma publicação anarquista, verde, anticivilização, ludita, pela abolição dos cárceres, dos manicômios, dos exércitos. E o texto é assinado por alguém que atende pelo codinome "Criminal y egoísta".

E devo reconhecer que é uma tarefa díficil traduzir esse texto, partindo do fato de que não fiz um curso de língua espanhola e sequer disponho de um dicionário de espanhol.
Mas resolvi traduzi-lo assim mesmo.Numa tradução livre onde tentei ao máximo me aproximar do pensamento de seu autor, ainda que não concorde com todas as suas idéias ou todas as suas conclusões, o texto traz pensamentos interessantes e pertinentes para um debate.

"Nós temos dito outras vezes, que os ismos são equivalentes, socialmente falando, a céus verdadeiros. Cada ismo é só uma interpretação diferente do tipo de Sociedade, é dizer todos os 'ismos' pretendem regular (governar) as relações sociais em função de seus valores morais. Todos logicamente são absolutistas, pois a verdade, sua verdade, é universal, é dizer: para todos. E dizer todos, é dizer a humanidade, "todos somos filhos de Deus", todos somos homens ou mulheres, para o caso é o mesmo. Assim os 'ismos' baseiam seu fundamento, em buscar a felicidade para seu papel social, o homem renascido, o homem artificial.

O Cristianismo é um impulso dos mais significativos, na reafirmação do artificial. O humano só é a carcaça, de seu hóspede o espírito que mora nele, que é imperecível e é ele que deve ser salvado da animalidade de seu portador. O Abstracto, o que só é elocubração, e portanto, só posível ou provável, se converte no verdadeiro e no natural, o institivo, o que é nos tem permitido evoluir em milhões de anos, são, o pecaminoso, o amoral, os instintos selvagens, o vulgar, o egoísta; o que deve de ser 'superado'. O homem renascido do Cristianismo, é o prototipo da artificialidade, é um papel social, sujeito aos valores morais de sua época. É ele grande usurpador, o hóspede que nos possui e nos têm construídos, a nós únicos, que somos cada um, antes da domesticação-possessão.

Bem, pois é o cristianimso o precursor e promotor da idéia da 'nivelação' também conhecida como 'igualdade e justiça social', de que a todos os ismos tem feito sua versão particular, e a que sem dúvida a mais extremistas em sua ideía da nivelação são socialismo, comunismo e anarquismo, as mais cristãs. Sua nivelação, claro está é por baixo, é dizer; há que buscar a igualdade com os que menos têm. Assim, socialismo, comunismo e anarquismo, querem que de seu céu desapareçam os vivedores, os burgueses, convertendo-os a todos em produtores, escravos e servos do novo senhor, a "comunidade', novamente o absoluto. As revoluções dos ismos mencionados (socialismo, comunismo, anarquismo), são revoluções de 'ódio' (como diz Pessoa). Não liberam os trabalhadores, de suas penas, o trabalho, com suas fadigas, seu desgaste e sua obrigatoriedade, seu ranço só pretendem que trabalhe todo o mundo. Todos escravos do senhor absoluto do momento "A sociedade fraternal".

Despojados, os burgueses de seus privilégios e os proprietários de suas propriedades, o Poder e a Propriedade caiam em mãos do novo amo absoluto, a sociedade. Sem poder fazer e decidir por ti mesmo, dado que estás sujeito as leis e normas morais, que tragam consigo, os novos revolucionarios, só pode ter o que te dêem, o que tu chamas de "teus direitos" (que por outro lado, tal como eles te dão, eles podem te quitar) sempre e quando cumpra com "teus deveres" que como cidadão tens assinado, para o melhor desenvolvimento de todos, a sociedade, a humanidade ou a civilação.

Assim, sem poder e sem propriedade, o novo homem renascido, o homem fraterno, surgido das revoluções mencionadas(socialismo, comunismo, anarquismo) as mais avançadas no conceito da 'nivelação social', é pouco mais que um pária ou um indigente. Em definitiva, não é nada sem o todo, sem a comunidade, queira ele ou não, ele goste ou não. E esta nivelação total, pois todos participam em nivelar, em regular, em governar, nos retornamos novamente ao absolutismo. Escolhamos o caminho que escolhamos, o 'ismo' mais justo, sempre acabaremos no mesmo lugar, o absolutismo. Se querem resolver a equação de forma errônea. Estamos instalados na idéia introduzida pelo 'pensamento religioso' do todo Ordenado e da necessidade de regulação dos conflictos e essa é nosssa perdição, porque ele leva incorporado a idéia do superior, supremo, hierárquico, representado pelo "regulador' e por suas 'criações", os mundos artificiais. E como se regula? Pois uma função dos valores morais dos novos hierarcas nem mais nem menos. Para comprová-lo só há que achar uma olhada ao defendido em cada período 'revolucionário' por seus respectivos impulsores, porém insisto, desde o cristianismo só se busca a 'nivelação social' por baixo, é dizer, que uma das partes de megamaquina, do trabalho, do corpo, a comunidade, 'todos produtores', absolutismo sempre.

A questão é de que por conseguinte continuemos nesss visão da igualdade, de todos, e da ordem social, estamos condenados à escravidão. Confundir a sociabilidade egoísta, espontãnea e pontual, pois só nós podemos viver humanos, de quem queiramos ou necessitamos ou estajam dispostos a usar e serem usados, em uma palavra uma sociabilidade destinada a favorecermos a nós mesmos, com a idéia de uma sociedade para todos 'nivelada' obrigada, onde os atores mudam os papéis, mas a obra que se representa permanece imóvel e o absolutismo, o pensamento religioso,a artificialidade em suma, campam por seus respeitos.

Não podemos negar a sociabilidade, simples é uma obviedade natural; somos machos e fêmeas, que engendramos proles que durante um bom tempo não se valem por se mesmas. Depois ao largo de nossa vida, vivemos circunstancias que nos chegam a usar e ser usados. Porém se nego a Sociedade, esse invento, esse artifício, surgido da necessidade de ordenar que produz o Absolutismo.

E querem crer que é uma questão de palavras estarão presos de sua cegueira. Cegueira lógica se temos em conta que desde bem pequenos se nos domam em base a verdades absolutas, a coisas espirituais, superiores, artificiais, que não existem, que só são uma criação de nosso pensamento. E se no que alguém que me diga conceitos como: Deus, Patria, Sociedade, Igualdade, Espiritualidade, Moral, Ética, Religião, Ordem, etc. onde existam, aparde de nossa mente. Só existe, aquele que é corpóreo, e consequentemente, como o resto dos seres vivos o animal humano tem uma manifestação corpórea, o resto é só idéias, pensamentos, elocubrações, lavagens cerebrais, imposição absolutista milenaria, Artificialidade.Pois bem, a domadora da cria humana, tambem chamada iniciação, aprendizagem, educação, é a etapa na qual aquele que não tem outro equipamento natural que seus instintos, a cria humana, e que é corpóreo, ele que de verdade pode demonstrar que existe o 'sacrifícado' pelo seu entorno social, familia, escola, trabalho, comunidade, etc. dando lugar primeiro ao pequeno, depois ao homem e finalmente ao ancião, entre as crias machos, e as pequenas, as mulheres e as anciãs entre as fêmeas. Em cada uma dessas etapas o Natural, tem sido substituído por um conjunto de normas e atitudes que o papel social que me tem usurpado a identidade deve de manter, se haver estado 'bem constituído', bem domando, bem domensticado. Se tem sido assim, serei um possuído mas, que passarei minha experiência vivencial, suplantado por um conjunto de normas morais, surgidas das mentes calorosas de outros 'papéis sociais' que a por sua vez também foram domesticados. Aqueles que chamando-se revolucionários, pensem que ele não estão possuídos ou bem constituídos, e por ele seus propositos são legitimos e necessários, se equivocam de meio a meio.

A domesticação é um circulo fechado, uma vez tendo estado domado (programado) todas as suas ações se contentam em girar sempre dentro do círculo. Assim o revolucionário mais radical, nunca questionará o círculo. Todo pode mudar, porém como ser artificial em que tem se convertido, como 'papel social' que é, nunca irá contra a Ordem Social mesma, pois a ela deve sua existência, é dizer; seu 'papel social', sua artificialidade. Porém aqueles que não tem estado 'bem constituído', aqueles em que a dominação falou por uma ou outra causa, que se tem feito "chimarões", que defendem seu Eu real e natural, aquele que apostam por que o único existente é o que tem uma manifestação corpórea à margem, fora de nosso pensamento, que tem assasinado, chamam o sacerdote que os havia possuído, depreciamos nossso papel social e ele dos demais, somos as associações, os egoísta, os anarquistas e rompemos nossa parte do círculo, o vosso só pode romper cada de um vocês mesmos.

Todas as correntes educativas, com suas matizes, claro está, não passam de ser diferentes formas de domesticação, não deve esquecer-se que a domesticação, não é voluntária, sim obrigatória, incluidas como é lógico as "escolas racionalistas', do chamado anarquismo.
Só os que não defendem a obrigatoriedade da existência da Sociedade, os egoístas anarquistas, rechaçam a domesticação, as escolas ou pedagogias, transmissoras de valores morais, artificiais. Como não temos nenhum "valor moral" e só queremos ser nós mesmos, não podemos dizer-lhe aos demais que sejam como nós, pois deixariam de ser como eles e no queriam deixar de existir, em boa lógica. Na vida real, natural, nada lhe diz a nada como deve de viver, o instinto é o que nos diz que fazer e que não fazer. A vida artificial, a que suplanta a realidade é a única que necessita de normas e não se vive de bom grado sem a força.

Eu, como Criminoso ante todas as formas sociais.
Eu, como Egoísta ante todo o supremo ou superior.
Eu, como Humano ante todos os papíes sociais (homem, mulher, criança, etc.)
Eu, como Natural ante todas as artificialidades.
Eu como Anarquista ante todas as regulações.

Sou sequaz da Anarquia que nega a Ordem e o Mando, e em boa lógica toda forma de Regulação. Nego a Sociedade e defendo a multiassosiação. Como não quero Sociedades, tampoco recessito melhorá-las (reformá-las, revolucioná-las). Assim que nego a Revolução que só persegue fazer melhor a Sociedade (nivelá-la). E defendo a Insurreição contra aquilo que nego e aborreço. Não tenho nenhuma verdade absoluta para todos, nenhum céu, só tenho minha verdade e é minha e para mim, se queres alguma verdade tem a tua própria. Estou aborrecido do amor fraterno, e eu tenho suplantado pelo amor interessado; se me queres te quero. Quero meu Poder para mim, pois é minha força, não em vão só o que peçoi, nem mais nem menos; porém sou eu. Também quero minha Propriedade, a que meu Poder poça darme. Tampoco quero "A Liberdade", sem só a que poça ter, é dizer: a que meu poder me permita, a única que pode existir. A outra, "A Liberdade", só é outro término absoluto, e por tanto irreal, só pode existir nos pensamentos. Estou disposto a usar aos demais e também em reciprocidade a que eles me usem. Parece ser, que sou humano, isso eu não posso evitar, agora bem o que desprezo são os papíes sociais em que eles que me tem convertido (homem, mulher, criança, etc.). Meu medo o não, com os machos, e só babar desejando as fêmeas. Porém quando fazem aparição os "papéis sociais' se me eriçam os pêlos do corpo. Por ele, nego todas as formas de domesticação, todas as escolas, todas as pedagogias, todas as formas de converter as criaturas Selvagens, em seres artifiais, domados, com valores morais e éticos inventados por sacerdotes do absoluto. Renego de céus artificiais, que suplantam o real por ele inventado, o que só existe em nosso pensamento, e que no desemfreiar de sua obssessão, destroem a natureza e a refazem por uma artificial, claro que é lógico tambem se tem mudado eles; eram humanos e agora são papéis sociais. Eu cago no Cristianismo, e só por sua exaltação do Estado e da Igreja, como representantes do Absolutismo, sem ademais por fazer do homem, esse papel social, um Deus para si mesmo, propulsor em diante de seus próprios céus "ismos". Nego pois, as nivelações, dos diferentes 'ismos' por ir esta sempre acomapanhadas a Regulação, e não os esqueceis; quem te regula, te governa. Ao negar o Absoluto, logicamente, nego a Deus, esse invento dos humanos possuídos, e ao negar a Deus, nego a Ordem, a Religião, e com ela o Pensamento Religioso, o pensamento abstracto, o pensamento especulativo, o mundo dos espíritos, e todo o relacionado com: Sagrado, Supremo, o Superior. Ao que lhe disse: sou sequaz de Anarquia, persigo o Caos, que os conflictos se resolvam por si mesmos.

Que os partidarios da Anaquia, os dos diferentes "ismos" que dediquem seus reguladores em suas "partes" (ovos, ou peitos, direito e esquerdo), bem dito,de outra forma; que se dediquem a si mesmos, que reconheçam que só cada um é o mais importante, sem hipocrisias nem merdas, assim ao menos deixará de fazer servos.

PORQUE IREI VOTAR NULO

Desculpe Luiziane Lins, Moroni Torgan, Renato Roseno, Adahil Barreto, Patricia Saboia, Gastão, etc. etc. etc.
Infelizmente eu não quero dirigentes.
Não acredito numa sociedade de esferas separadas.
Numa sociedade de delegações, de separações, de especialistas, de especializações, enfim, na sociedade pautada pelos critérios utilitaristas da economia de mercado
que não tem o menor escrúpulo
de usar recursos de falsidade cibernética
para destruir o psiquismo de um portador de transtorno bipolar.
O que vocês fizeram foi um CRIME.
FALSIDADE IDEOLÓGICA DE PESSOAS FALÇAS E CHEIAS DE CALCULADAS E PLANEJADAS
FALCIDADES.
E esse é o meu posicionamento.
E a você DIÁCONO.Não se preocupe. Sempre terei um dinheirinho para comprar um pastel
e um caldo de cana para você.
Porque eu gosto de ajudar pessoas INCOMPLETAS.