"Ultimi barbarorum"
Baruch Spinoza
In a short view of the militarized southern border of the EU, within the Spanish colonial enclaves, we already know that 141 people have lost their lives and more than 2,000 minors are looking for them. In a long view, the Mediterranean has been a common grave for a long time. In an attentive view, it is absurd that the old floats as new. Tarajal 2014, Melilla 2022, Portopalo 1996. When the structural ellipsis is never talking about the North-South divide, repeating migration to avoid declining poverty, calling a repressive monarchy a reliable partner, underestimating the Moroccan protests of the Z generation from just recently, or forgetting that the Strait of Gibraltar condenses, in fourteen kilometers and four hundred meters, the fine line that splits two completely antagonistic worlds. Where the shortest distance exposes the longest abyss, filled with ellipses. One of shameful geopolitics: the Sahrawi people, first betrayed by Felipe González's PSOE and recently abandoned by the most progressive government in history. And always the same vain fantasy: believing that we have nothing to do with all this. Don't look down at the map, lest the unequal pyramidal world explode in your eyes as it is. Rich world, poor world, we only need to recall in an accelerated world the televised show of the hantavirus from just three months ago and on board the cruise ship MV Hondius. The crisis finally left three Western deaths. We only need to contrast it with the last Ebola outbreak in Congo, completely simultaneous to the previous one, which has already claimed more than two thousand lives in a lasting information blackout.In a global view, the climate emergency, from the fires in Canada to the floods in Chile, gives no local or global respite. With the accumulated ellipsis – reiterated, repeated, reinciding – of believing that we can act as if nothing is happening while everything is happening. Everywhere. And ignoring that we are passing on the bill and the fractures to future generations. Rear-view mirror memory, Pasolini already asked premonitionally in the distant 1975 why fireflies were disappearing and today, here, now, we forget – summer 1993, let's say – when car windows, going on and returning from vacation with the windows open, were an impressive display of multiple insects. It hasn't been that long ago, despite the scientific community having been explaining for a long time, unanimously, the ecosystem impoverishment: the growing loss of biodiversity and habitats, the systematic and intensive use and abuse of synthetic pesticides, extreme climate phenomena or the predatory model of economic growth. In any case, between the Gavarres and the Serra d'Espadà, that fires are extinguished in winter and farmers and firefighters put them out, we have been hearing for more than two decades. As if we heard rain in times of drought. We don't look up, lest we have to take care of our own shit. In a bubble, it all recalls that viral video in which a Chinese worker explained why he went to work in a closed car: to avoid air pollution.
In a heat-veiled gaze, the islands of suffocation continue in urban areas, under the climate of social inequalities and in a summer polarized depending on where you stop: in L'Hospitalet or in Cerdanya, in Menorca or in Salt. But on the free bar of early morning that social networks are, yesterday I couldn't believe it. Dismissing a trick from AI, I stumbled upon the false prestidigitator Elías Bendodo, from the PP's leadership, in an extravagant video. There he spoke of people who cannot go on vacation (structurally, 30% of society), of chronic poverty and of growing precariousness that every time the PP governs rises like foam and when the PSOE governs it never sinks to the bottom of the sea. A video-homage from cynicism to hypocrisy, when magic always consists of distracting attention so we don't see the evil ingenuity and don't observe what they do with the other hand, which is usually the most right-wing. But planned forgetting is an ellipsis that memory disarms. That we go on vacation is not as always nor fall from the sky. The 30 natural days that we are enjoying a good part of these days have only been legalized since 1983. That is, the day before yesterday. The first holidays –7 annual days– were proclaimed by that Second Republic that they destroyed root, blood and fire. And next Tuesday, not to accumulate criminal ellipses, it will be 90 years since the assassination of Federico García Lorca. I bet half a pea that Bendodo will not make any video. ".There are things locked up inside walls that if they suddenly came out and screamed would fill the world". Don't look back. Lest everything shine.In a squinting gaze, that the Catalan hangover of the eclipse is, fundamentally, the mess of Rodalies has little poetic and all political. As if not to look at the gaps in the sphere of the so-called left. If it is confirmed that the special railway device to facilitate mobility during the eclipse and promote public transport was finally for 327 additional train seats, we will have a disturbing and impotent ellipsis: democracy no longer arrives or only superficially, or only as a joke, at the enormous challenges we face. Amidst this global democratic eclipse – which is not natural in any way – which does not look like it will only last two extraordinary minutes. The urgency of the moment forces us to cry out – to demand, to need, to persist – that to get out of the hole, the first thing is to stop digging. And to vow that no drastic defeat is ever so due to omission, neglect, or, even worse, democratic non-appearance.In a tense gaze, everything clarifies that looking the other way, continuing with revelry and uproar, or playing the ostrich will be of no use. Not even to bury one's head in the sand. Too many ellipses eclipse us. The permanent Palestinian ellipsis – as if the dirty and brutal colonization of the West Bank did not every day undermine the uncontrolled demolition of international humanitarian law –, the hybrid war in the East, or the "palantir manifests proclaiming the advent of technofascism. In a prospective gaze, when one must always anticipate, one weighs where exactly we will be next summer. Demoscopy says that under an overwhelming majority of PP and Vox in the Spanish state. They also announce that the next eclipse, in 2027, will be in Ceuta and Melilla. And it was then, dog days of the 21st century, that some words from the poet Mireia Calafell, which I retrieve whenever necessary, were returned to me. And each time more. And more often. In free fall and without ellipses, in search of a parachute before a burning pool, Mireia continues to shoot unarmed: "It is urgent to know who we are, who puts chlorine in the pool and who is in the water. Who controls the entrance and who wants to enter. Where one wants to enter. We must know this soon or it will be too late and irreversible: we will no longer be able to do anything, nor change anything, nor say anything, nor write anything, nor demand anything if one day we discover, naively, that all this blood is from our hands from which, drop by drop, it falls".
