La reversibilidad del simulacro VS "la fiesta del cielo".

....y mientras tanto la gente estúpida aplaudía contenta a las máquinas, olvidando que fueron construidas para su propio sometimiento. Dando por sentado (con la ayuda del escenario y del comentarista)el hecho de que esa "realidad" que estaban viviendo era sólo un espectáculo de feria, creado para alegrarles sus monótonas vidas. Desde luego, en lo de feria no se equivocaban. Lo era, era la feria en la que se vendía una de tantas falacias, era la feria en la que se vendía la guerra mediante la máscara del espectáculo, en la que se vendía el nacionalismo a costa de la ayuda humanitaria, del humo, del sonido, del color y de la multitud, era la feria en la que las máquinas que se encargan de proteger el Nuevo Orden Mundial neoliberal, que liquida a cientos de personas cada día, se lucen haciendo corazones de humo en el cielo. Qué tierna escena. ¿Quién puede temer a un avión de caza que pinta corazones el en cielo?. Me recuerda a esa película del expresionismo alemán en la que el personaje que le servía como atracción y mono de feria a su dueño durante el día, era el mismo que le servía para matar a sus víctimas por la noche. Curiosa ambivalencia, pero aún más curioso resultaba oir los aplausos de la gente. Yo mientras tanto me preguntaba si también aplaudirían cuando esas mismas máquinas vinieran a hacer cosas diferentes que piruetas y corazones de humo...

The reversibility of the sham

….and meanwhile stupid people applauded contented to the machines, forgetting that they were constructed for his own submission. Giving by seated (with the aid of the scene and the commentator) of which that “reality” that they were living was only a fair spectacle, created to cheer its monotonous lives to them. Of course, in the one of fair they were not mistaken. It was, was the fair in which one of so many deceits was sold, was the fair in which the war by means of the mask of the spectacle was sold, in which was sold the nationalism at the cost of the humanitarian aid, of the smoke, of the sound, the color and the multitude, it was the fair in which the machines that are in charge to protect the New neoliberal World order that liquid to hundreds of people every day, they are brilliant making hearts of smoke in the sky. What tender scene. Who can fear to a fighter that paints sky hearts. It remembers me to that film of the German expresionismo in which the personage who served to him like attraction and monkey of fair to its owner during the day, was the same that served to him to kill its victims at night. Peculiar ambivalence, but still more peculiar turned out to hear the applause of people. I meanwhile wondered myself if also they would applaud when those same machines came to make different things that pirouettes and hearts of smoke…