a couple of days ago I had an experience I want to share it as common to some of what you are feeling. It was so loud I'm sure something means in relation to a new awareness that our world is concerned: the depth perception that we are witnessing the birth of a new era while another broke away from the body is born, such as the chrysalis emerges the multicolored butterfly. We are just at the limit at which the two worlds coexist in a contrast so abysmal that we can feel, that I felt just turning the page of a magazine.
Well, I read a report on the last World Social Forum held in Dakar (Senegal), which reported an event that is repeated every year since 2001, which was first celebrated in Porto Alegre (Brazil) In these forums, which are not yet the new world but its announcement, traders converge as they want to do your little August as the leaders who stand out in the development of other paradigms, as well as hundreds of NGOs and thousands of people in search of something new. Interestingly mass attendance has grown exponentially, but in the latter event has decreased. Is the crisis? Is it looking as something else? Have they lost their original spirit of these forums? I do not know but it is fascinating to see the swarm of people looking for something else, another model, and representing hundreds of thousands or millions of people that resonate with those searches.
Well, I finish the story written by Lola Huete with photos of Sofia Moro and pass the page. It was like going from the human hustle of life that breaks through the cataclysm of a broken mirror, shattered by a stone brutal. I really felt that a world is crumbling before my eyes, seeing what was actually no longer had. Was the symptom that made me realize a perception unusual for me as I realize sharper than it already is dead and what is the seed of future of life. On that page I am referring to Hugh Hefner appeared embedded in the black silk pajamas with every passing day. You know who that is? For the love of Playboy empire. His childhood dream was to spend his life surrounded by beautiful scantily clad girls. He founded the magazine and got it. Why? Because this must be the common dream of millions of men who invented a pseudorealidad on coated paper.
Besides he is already an old coat, with a promised 24 years, yes, living image of decay and decrepitude, is that this model of life and world still seemed more decrepit, a ruin, pure smoke. Like him, FORBES worldwide and other magazines 'yet' amortized and decadent, they almost have become ghosts in the new world taking shape. Have much money, but they are dead. In contrast, looks clean WSF world leaders in Dakar with their faces crossed by life, but not finished or not decrepit and decadent past, but lighting a future full of hope: Susan George, Samir Amin, Chico Whitaker, Ivonne Ngoy Eric Toussaint or woman earthquake Aminata Traoré, former Minister of Culture of Mali: a bellezón seventies.
Curiously, that same feeling I tell them I have it already in many situations. For example, I can not see politicians talking on television. His words, their gestures, their faces are but a distant echo of nothing. What's happening? It is not ill: it is strange. Not to mention the bankers and some specimens of the business class of this lethal neoliberalism. All dead, yes. Lack of reality. Sorry, but what I see.
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