The World That No Longer Exists

William Faulkner, in an interview for the Paris Review:

There were many things I could do for two or three days and earn enough money to live on for the rest of the month.

What! Two or three days! I reread the interview perplexed. Just imagining that less than a century ago it was possible to live the month painting houses for two or three days, the smile disappears from my face. Two or three days! And today it is necessary to work even when one does not work. I practice mathematics: how much does a pound of meat cost? I limit my diet, I stick to the essentials: three days a month does not even pay the week! And the worst thing is to see the obvious: there is no choice. It is accepting the energies and the time drained every day for years, decades, to then look back in regret…

Always Acts the Law of the Jungle

To silence dissenting manifestations or, even less, different manifestations is nothing new. But I remain here wondering whether, in this world, there will ever be a reprimand for such aggression. I automatically think of the language, the servant of human vanity. Perhaps some study will come out condemning its movement, proving its harmful character, highlighting its role as an inducer of aggressive action? Probably not. And probably never the average man will be able to bar the hated evolutionary impulse of shutting up, humiliating, submitting, destroying the one he sees as an adversary. Always acts the law of the jungle, and the attack seems the only and best defense… Ao vencedor, as batatas!

Prior and Regular Reflection Is Necessary

The collective shouting, deluding about the great questions of life, throws sand into the human spirit and diverts it from the essential. One who spends his days distracted and judging important second-rate problems, when violently struck by a great issue, loses control: he simply has not prepared himself. To know how to deal with the great events, not letting himself act stupidly and impulsively when surprised, prior and regular reflection is necessary. And reflection, in turn, demands detachment from collective shouting. Crossing the boundary of judgment, the individual analysis of the flock ends up inspiring gigantic compassion…

Screaming in Front of a Screen

I try to concentrate on a difficult reading and the neighbor, screaming in front of a screen, punching the walls, stomping hard from one side to the other, does not permit. The text is Christian, Christian mysticism. And instead of reading it, absorbing it, I reflect on whether or not I should forgive the animal that screams endlessly. Angry, he will break something, I am sure. In five minutes he pronounced all the bad words I know. It seems the right-back of the team has done any nonsense. Goal of the opponent. Punches, screams, new bad words. And my noise muffler only muffles the damn noise. Should I forgive him? I try to think and an insult invades my mind. The animal risks a cardiac arrest for nothing, and the show loses its grace because it makes my room shake. I completely lose the thread of the narrative and the patience. I throw the book into any corner and let the judgment convince me: the “brother” makes any Christian argument impossible.

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