CODA FOR A MOCKERY

 Angel Luis Pérez Villén

Show must go on, the floodlights mindful of the stage, the look captivated by the fallacy of fascination, the experience lost by the saturation of the senses which inform us about what is happening, the sleepiness conscience about to twist, nevertheless, show, must go on... Life carries on and so does our existence; the immediate reality belongs to us insofar as we can take it. But have we got any time to do so? Are we willing to project on the surrounding? Would the surrounding be sensitive to our light or give it back to us as if a autobiographical representation? Is reality porous or polishing like the skin of a mirror? So many questions without an answer do not stop the flow of time, and the pace of events indicate that show must go on.

If life is dream and vigil prevent us from strolling the fold of reason, we should cling to fate and try our luck in the great theatre of the world, we should turn the page and build with our luck the trick of art, we should invent reality, we should steal its credibility and simulate consciously its authenticity because show must go on... If, on the contrary, fact is superior to fiction, we should provide a representation of the first that multiply its narcotic effects; if the critical speech has decreased its public reception, we should leave ideologies out and become immerse in the synchronism of praxis; if religion is the people's opium, we should change our believes for the compulsive consumption: if the individual water down in the social body and this in the Welfare State, we should throw meat to arena and Bread and Circus!, because show must go on...

The information of reality the mass-media give us is conditioned by the exercise of a discursive licence that discriminate the data which are made of. This gives credibility to the representation which is shown of it in a space, firstly appointed to the reflexion or even to the questioning, and finally to admitting the allegation of a sanction, which is a sophism or even a mockery; overlapping the emergency of contradictions, eradicating the slander of a possible critical rereading and transformating the reception into a spectacular fable. The illusion of the flaneur is created among the relics of image, resetting its sense to instigate the will of possessing it, of inferring from it what comes from its common sense, from its cultural archetypes or from its holistic vision of the world; however as it happens with every kind of illusion, it vanishes when we penetrate its sphere believing we are experimenting the virtuality as if it were something tangible.

Show must go on, our disposition to be a part of the game recommends it. Although we know the cards are marked we don't reject the opportunity of simulating the defeat of thought, of holding out the theory and accepting the nihilism on condition that we reject the silence of the lambs. We are reluctant to stay changeless, we prefer to introduce ourselves in the building of language and dynamite its performative core. It is for that reason that we sign on every adventure which pursues to undermask the representation of reality carried out from annexed devices installed in the webs that control information. Against it, its reflection deconstructed in a fragmentary and seemingly harmless image: a circus, some spectators and the fiction of an idle and jolly speech. Show must go on. 

 

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