and the slogan becomes a song…

I was having a little chat with some coworkers. One was saying about English importance: the treaties, the way to get in touch with the world, the advantages and, in general; all those things we’ve been always told but not so many cared. The interesting thing was what the other one said:  why English? That’s a language I won’t be submitted (and it won’t be necessary to write what else he said)

I pictured some scenarios in my head: let’s take this guy and sit him over a chair with power, let’s say he will be named a minister or a director: what kind of management would it be his? The possible answers of this question actually remove you from any doubt. It would be nefarious, just as it is Venezuela nowadays.

We’ve been living the time of free market and globalization; something opposing will hardly reach a common good. The only way a government controlled market may work is by sponsoring perceptions through alms; you see: I set up an insult, something that makes minds feel rather than understand, so perceptions get open through this sort of offensive feeling via, which also make them get eager, eager for an explanation, and the explanation comes, an archetype: there must be someone, someone evil, evil from abroad; and now I get why I’ve been poor, why wealth is a concept for frustration, then I start summarizing: what do I really want, or need? What the government gives: a box with several products so you don’t get hungry, but remember, this is not just to solve hunger, it isn’t. This is a struggle against the enemy, an enemy who imposed English and a wrong concept of wealth. I don´t know what’s wealth anymore. Wealth is what government tells, so you better start paying attention to its words, so its words become a slogan, and the slogan becomes a song…

What about now? Alms have been reduced because Oil price crumbled. Now the song is about production: what such a thing could be if you first told me I wasn´t responsible for who I’ve been? 

Now that I’m aware my ignorance was planted by the enemy… I just wait for my box of food.

Power is power, Cercei said.