Opinion – It’s Right There: Incoherence, we see it around here

The last thing I thought I would need to do one day in this privileged space of fresh air (well, not always), lots of greenery (well, not always) and good inspirations (well, not always) was to talk about the coup acts of the insane followers of that one there that left the country on the verge of a nervous breakdown and wandered off to Florida. But I feel compelled to do so when I receive a WhatsApp message (where else!) saying, “look, lady, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to give an interview to a newspaper that talks about us patriots having a good time as bandits” . Message, curiously, deleted shortly after being viewed. I even thought that maybe the person had regretted the outburst and was going to apologize right away, but no. Deleted, blocked and, uh, okay, took block back. I believe in reciprocity.

But the devil is that having a good time after a message like that early in the morning, before even getting out of your pajamas, is not an easy thing, nor something to be taken lightly while coffee smells good in the kitchen. Because here we only want to talk to and about people who love nature, a healthy life, and with them, obviously (as a colleague of this Folha says), science in their veins. Or so I thought—until today.

There’s not much to reply to someone who sends a message like that. Analysts and scholars of the future (if any) or any artificial intelligence that survives us, may be able to better explain the collective and furious dementia that hatched from this egg of a serpent so far from its (much) nobler cousins ​​​​in nature. I prefer a thousand times more an irritated jararaca in the middle of the bush than an exalted extremist on the other side of the line. And even the deafening sound of howler monkeys on an Amazonian night is sweeter than the screams of the mob in full charge along the Esplanada dos Ministérios.

Professionally speaking, of course, it’s not good form to let the first impulse to release the animals reach the small screen. My cell phone is well-mannered, it was trained at great cost (I’m not a saint either) to be patient, restrained, detachment and, come on, a little common sense whenever possible. But it is appalling to realize that the animosity of those who still have faith in the coup, who defend it tooth and nail and a messianism molded by decades of repression between their teeth, reaches the point of preventing the disclosure of something that, in the end, belongs to all of us: the beauties of our Brazil. A Brazil that, it doesn’t hurt to remember and here are the facts to confirm, the messiah of those there did everything to destroy, devastate, annihilate. Consistency, you do not see here.

But what would be coherence for these beings who celebrate the destruction of works of art in the buildings of the three Powers in Brasília while demonstrating cries for the preservation of the araucaria? Is it possible to be moved by a sunrise in the Mantiqueira mountains and on the same day drool angrily with pleasure when seeing a painting by Di Cavalcanti being drilled? Does fanatical terraplanism have any explanation for the fantastic spectacle of shooting stars cutting across the sky on a summer night?

To the self-proclaimed patriots who showed their pride in defecating in the halls of vandalized national heritage sites, I leave here just a warning: at the next riot, don’t forget to take the shit tube. And may the little shovel of regulation lime cover not only your waste, but the shame of your irrationality.

And I don’t say anymore, that today I’m not good. Until next week, friends.