There is a curious vacuum that follows cruel, passionate, thoughtless acts, in which man extrapolates the limits of ethics. Conscience seems to emerge questioning reasons, when it is no longer possible to undo what one has done. A vacuum is imposed, usually resulting in regret for the unnecessary excesses. The comparison with the despot who, in a fit of rage, commits an injustice as undue as it is unnecessary, is fitting. Then it is noted that, for some, such a vacuum is instructive; while, for others, it seems to legitimize immorality and foreshadow even worse excesses.
The Concrete Wall
It is always a pleasure to reflect on those moments when expectation crashes at high speed into a concrete wall, completely destroying itself. There are few moments so favorable to a fair reflection, to a sensible examination of reality as those in which the present is disappointing and the future discouraging. Perhaps this is why pessimism is, in philosophy, the most consistent posture: because when it is based on such strong and obvious experiences, it is almost irrefutable. Moments like these have the power to impose, all at once, humility and silence.
Finally…
It is a real joy to see that, after almost a year of hard work and repeated regrets, I can finally register here that I have finished a new little volume of poems. In poetry, it is undeniable that there is such a prize. It pleases the feeling of being the author of finished verses, a feeling that is quite different with prose. It is pleasing, above all, because poetry surprises, due to the poetic technique itself, and surprises even the reader who is the author of the verses he reads. This surprising effect, when unveiled by the new reading, brings sincere satisfaction by evoking in mind the moment of brilliance of its creation. This is poetry: a lot of hard work, and a few flashes that seem to justify such work; flashes that, shining in the midst of a cohesive whole, confer immense value to a deceptively sterile creation.
The Ostensible Culture War in Force…
The ostensible culture war in force, which for decades has tried to contaminate practically all areas of knowledge in a gradual work, already seems to indicate that, in the future, a serenity in analyzing history will be something of a miracle, if not nonsense. Such a phenomenon can no longer be ignored, and by no means constitutes an isolated act in today’s cultural panorama; and even if there is an attempt to deviate from it, it goes inconveniently knocking on all doors, invading homes and imposing itself before the individual. What is to be done? Just as it is convenient to immunize oneself against such agitations, there are cases in which doing so seems like flirting with dishonor. To abstain from the verb, in the current situation, is to allow the lie to be transmitted to the future as history. Lamentable…