In time of chakal snakes

The result of these elections is not surprising. It is in accordance with the general atmosphere of time: an atmosphere inquired, sick, too breathtable. It is the God-God, it is the interests of summit, they are the unipessal careers, it is the sale of the soul for what price is, it is the construction of a country on the edge of a cliff. Fatal. It is the television channels selling the soul and the commentators distorting, manipulating, indoctrinating – the power of money is global, universal, cosmic. However, it does not buy life, eternity. In the end, each will have, however, that he has kept the portrait as Dorian Gray, to confront his monster. No adventurer today who betrays his fellow citizens will escape this mirror: Who was you, André? What did you do in the name of others? When did your soul mocked? What is the reason for your excessive greed? What hatred poison you words and blood?

There is a poem by Sophia de Mello Breyner that we must remember in this time of new fighting for freedom – the freedom we owe to our conscience, which we owe to our children, who owe to our parents. The poem is this:

In these last times it is certain that the left made mistakes

Fell into misconduct confusions practiced injustices

But we say the long dark and expert

Degradation of the things that the right practice?

That we will say from the garbage of your luxury – from your

Viscous enjoyment of the cream of life – that we will say

Of your fierce greed and cold possession?

That we will say of your wise and tacit injustice

That we will say from its colludes and businesses

What about the utility to use your eights?

That we will say of their alibis and pretext masks

Of their fenders and contexts?

In these last times it is right on the left

Disfigured the lines of his face

But we will say the effective and expedite

Degradation of the life that the right practices?

It is a poem of The Name of Things, dated July 1976. I think it is an opportune poem, since, after these elections, it is the defense of democracy we have to speak, assuming, throughout the line, that the result reflects the resentment of many Portuguese who, over the last 20 years, felt betrayed by parties that, being left of the center that were eventually discharged. This is the case of PS. The discourse of tolerance towards the policies of a right has never resulted. May the French PS say. Even the PSD is not free to fall into the compressor roller of the hatred of venturism. Sooner or later, in the name of ‘stability’, it will change ‘not no’ for ‘not yes’. And this will happen when Montenegro comes again involved in a new scandal, something that arrives will not cease to pursue to ‘kill’ social democracy as it says the « party of Álvaro Cunhal » has killed.

It was that this directist drift in the ranks of a dotted PS in power that eventually led to the transfer of more than one million votes that previously belonged to the socialist electorate. Let us ask ourselves: What are the mazes and the feints, the cream of life, the fierce greed?

But, as read in Sophia’s poem, the issue is not just the disfigure of the left face. The question is deeper: it is Portugal that it is degrading and disfiguring. Imitating Tricks Tricks, macacha Milei’s ways, there is a political class that moves from democracy from April 25 not because they hate what April represents, but despite April represents. This provincial and bestial elite, deep down, aiming in the mirror of those who have not betrayed April, knows that it is the degradation of things what a certain right practices. Although he can go to Mass on election day, the Lusitanian duce, deep down he knows that he voga in the ‘viscous enjoyment of the cream of life’ and that it is the fierce ‘greed’ and the ‘cold possession’ which animates his dry way of persecuting power. Ventura has nothing to give to the country, except the ‘collusion and business’. Also the party of Sá-Carneiro and Balsmanha will be lost in the ‘alibis and pretext masks’ of a arrival that, at the limit, is at the service of the interests of the European oligarchies, the policies aimed at beheading the European peoples in the name of the shril business: War.

Ventura wants the April country to turn into something that oscillates between a police state and a republic of pineapples to better rule in the midst of the chafurdice of a people who will be crushed, controlled, impoverished, once again betrayed and once again sold. The problem is, in fact, of historical betrayal: lying to the Portuguese at all times and at all times because, truly, the suburban that hates culture, the fraternity between peoples, which has probably been a victim of much bullying in Rio de Mouro, Mem-Martins) only interests the ‘effective meticulous and existence of the existence of the existence of existence existence, already practices. Thesis: Yesterday’s poor thing is today’s fascist.

Before this, what to do? Write poetry. Read poetry. To go to books and cinema, the arts and every day to do pedagogy against ‘their wise and tacit injustice’ of those who, manipulating their naive, resentful and attractive voters, only have the purpose of living ‘the trash of their luxury’.