Saturday 22 February 2020

The window we were staring at (Part I)

SARS is the story of not one epidemic but two, and the second epidemic, the one that has largely escaped the headlines, has implications that are far greater than the disease itself. That is because it is not the viral epidemic but rather an "information epidemic" that has transformed SARS, or severe acute respiratory syndrome, from a bungled Chinese regional health crisis into a global economic and social debacle.
(David J. Rothkopf)

Your parents died well. They cannot complain, they ended well. They had money, a lot of badanti taking care of them, you and your brother. They had all. Don't be sad. You did all you could.
She stared at me, through her half closed eyes.
She paused. I breathed.
Here in Lithuania - she went on - they could be considered rich people. Many elderly in Lithuania struggle with poverty, solitude and depression...that was not the case with your parents.
But they saved the money, they deserved it - I replied.
Of course - she said - of course...I didn't mean that they didn't deserve it. I wanted to say that they had a good end, nothing more, and you don't have to feel guilty because you decided to leave them and to move to Lithuania. But remember here the elderly rarely have the same chances your parents had...
You know - I replied - it must be true, it must be true that there must be an inequality between a dominant class and an under their rule class from the very beginning...something genetically established from the very beginning...a superior class against an inferior class. How can you explain otherwise this hatred, this indifference to the sufference of people. People are poor, they die for wars they don't want, governments don't represent the interests of people but the interest of the dominant class...how is this possible? Do I bore you?
No! Why do you ask?
I had the impression I was boring you.
You know that I have alway wanted to have a professor in my life. She laughed.
Good. Therefore it must be true that at the beginning of our species another species there must be, a species come from the space. A reptilian species, maybe.
She fell silent.
I fell silent.
Listen, she said, it is raining like in summer.
The door was open, the rain falling was heard.
What strange winter, like a prolonged autumn without end was accompanying the sound of the rain outside, beyond the opened window we were staring at.

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