Keeping the fingers exercised

In Film, Local projects, notes on February 5, 2015 at 8:19 am

I’ll call this an affirmation, or something. After all, birds go on singing no matter what (except when they fall down frozen out of the trees, as reported during one bad Siberian winter). My fingers need the exercise, plus I know already what I’ll find in the news and social media: magnificent photos of the full moon, horrific accounts of the latest barbarous acts, the latest on known scandals or glimpses at emerging ones, indignations to air, petitions to sign, plus gossip.

Territoires de la Liberté, Kuznetsov’s documentary we screened last night to a handful of people. A brief scene in which a linguist explains how Russian authorities use people of her profession in determining whether someone deserves a slap on the wrist or ten years of hard labor. Someone writes (or shouts) Death to the Blacks (or the Caucasians or Chechens): warrants the equivalent of a judiciary shrug. Hoodlums yell stupid things or they wouldn’t be hoodlums. A person writes (or says): You don’t ask for freedom, you seize it. Or: you must kill the slave within yourself. Ah. Another matter entirely. Only a dangerous criminal could voice such opinions.

The fast forward may seem abusive, but I don’t feel it so: what with the murders in Paris last month, authorities are in full forward march on All that threaten the Nation and its Values. All? Surely then, private militias supporting police and beating up peaceful demonstrators, smashing their cars and their cameras, etc – surely… Surely nothing at all. In a fascinating shortcut, the present Minister of the Interior considers all forms of opposition to the government as attacks on the Nation’s Values. From which I gather all forms of support for the police are justified.

For this, someone else died a few months back.

On some days, staring out the window seems like the safest option. At least, I am the keeper of  the craziness in my own head. But the craziness out there? Another story.

The sun rising to a blueish-white sky, soon to be bright blue. I don’t know what happens next but then, who does.


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