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Carlo Federico's MANIFESTO

PART II

10.

 

Uuhh! Oohh! That will seem too selfish indeed to most of my readers. How can we be happy just staying wrapped in our proud aloofness, while others suffer? There can be no happiness within ourselves, in the middle of so many unhappy fellows. If unselfishness is utopia, sensible selfishness would suggest that we must do something outside our self, to help...

Well, I am a bit too lazy to let me be involved in any engaging action. But I can agree that some concrete help might be offered: not [only] by working in any project for the relief of the Third World miserable, of the unfortunate orphans and widows in our urban villages, if that makes your inner self happy. The crucial, essential help we can offer is to whistle! You can whistle lovely tunes of any antique or modern melody, as you prefer. Just whistle, please! This is the only hope to wake our fellows the sleep-walkers, to awake them from drowsiness, to shake their hypnotic torpor, to let them guess there is joy, actually, in life. Just whistle.

As for me, I will deviate for a few moments from my lazy aloofness. I am going to whistle like a locomotive. Listen:

Phoooeeeee! Wake up, poor sleep-walkers! Wake up and your nightmares and terrible daydreams will disappear. Why are you so concerned about arguments that will look pretty insignificant to our great-grand-children in future centuries?
What about this funny question about to Have and to Have not?
This century is comically charmed by something that will seem so obviously childish in the future, when people will be awaken to the fact that it's more important who we are, than what we have. It will seem so obvious then that To Be something worth our life is much much celeverer than caring about To Have anything that eventually we will quit, and posterity will wonder how we could have been so asleep as to spend our life in discussing (and struggling and even killing for) such obvious trfles.
Marxism will be looked upon as we regard now the Paracelsian philosophy: the grains of truth contained in Marx's work will become accepted normality, exactly as Paracelsus' chemical remedies, laudanum anthimony and his refusal of Aristotelian prejudices.
As for the butchery, the suffering inferted and received in the name of Marxism, they will be forgotten as our own time forgot the struggles and violence bound to the laical dogmatism of that bizarre Philip Theophrastus Bombast von Hohenheim, the prophecy of Elias the Alchemist redivivus, the Rosacrucians, Muffet and Zwinger, Weigel and John Dee and Gioachino da Fiore, all those utopian neo-platonic ideas who seemed so intriguing to contemporary protestant revolutionaries... until their millenaristic dream collapsed with their protector the Bohemian Winter King at the White Mountain battle in 1620.
Of course you can expect that, as it happened with Paracelsian ideology, such systems continue to live emotionally within the mind of those who believed in (and fought for or against) them, and will fade out only when that generation of persons disappears and the new generation, in changed circumstances, will grow deaf to their call.
So, we have to be prepared to endure still for at least one generation the boredom caused by the survival of emotional "robotic" reactions rooted in past decades of common-sense somnambulism.

(10. To be continued)


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