It was the year 2024, with 2025 just around the corner. Between the truth of the lie and the lie of the truth, TV images vied with those on social media. According to reports, the ‘Blue November’ campaigns were overshadowed by the ‘Spilled Red’ campaigns. Over the course of twenty springs, ‘the one who calls the shots’ showed that he was not concerned about his prostate, but rather about his wallet. Popular sovereignty – whether at its zenith or in its twilight, it is hard to say – gave rise to new solstices in the State of Maringauta.
All the news reports stated that, after the secret service’s server had been hacked, the report on decarbonisation was discredited. A local newspaper soon leaked its contents, and the world learnt that the territory of that state harbours, beneath its surface, the largest quantities of precious stones, earth and sand in the entire Gulf of Gladiators. According to the presenter of “NewsTV‘NewsTV’, being highly coveted by tycoons from beyond the borders, the golf courses covering the vast area of the burial grounds were soon taken over by Calvin, President Astúcias’s eldest son. In order to maintain a precarious peace – one that nevertheless suited the power he held in his hands – he would take the hands of the queens of hearts from emerging nations and, in return, offer some training equipment to the target.
Whilst the tycoons amused themselves by shooting at birds of prey, Astúcias celebrated and fired at the altars of Venus. With the advent of artificial intelligence, all the calculators were thrown onto the rubbish heaps, and so the accounts of the heirs of the President of Maringauta were lost. In this way, he thought he had managed to establish Calvin as the ‘chief of police’ of the universal county and thus be able to shuffle the cards and all the checkers.
However, the awards for Best Film and Best Actress went to other stars. As midnight struck, and across the entire width of the television screen, my eyes were still fixed on the image of the Queen of Hearts, Joana Descansada, in the Oscars ceremony hall, still holding the Golden Globe in her hands. Thanks to the high-speed network of “Estrela” Link‘Link’, the live broadcast of the awards ceremony, starting at Hollywood, it was broadcast in real time, uncut and uncensored. With the embroidery’s stitching highlighting the beauty of her neckline, the award-winner was so stunned that she could not even deliver her speech, such was the intensity of President Astúcias’s seductive gaze.
Invited by him to visit the Palace of Gold, and before she could manage even a timid or joyful smile, the woman who would be the penultimate lady to be accosted muttered a curse at the President under her breath. In his haste, he took the gesture as an insult, and his charm led the lady and the Globe into a tiny, dimly lit wooden corridor. Meanwhile, someone had forgotten to switch off the CCTV cameras. Minutes later, just as deft hands were extracting a bullet from its casing, President Astúcias fell to his knees in a pool of tomato sauce. The evidence of what had happened was overwhelming.
Less than 20 and 4 hours after the fateful incident, the funeral of Calvin’s father—for whom he had mourned for 75 days—took place. 20 and 4 hours later, he took the crown for himself. Upon returning from the wake, he ordered the publication of a mandatory notice inviting expressions of interest in all the basins and gulfs in the immediate vicinity of Maringauta. Just as swiftly as the news spread, so too did the reaction of Calvin’s so-called blood brothers. At the behest of the deceased, they had been spilling the blood of the innocent who, naively, had given shelter to those who ripped out souls and minds. Upon taking into their own hands the death certificate of the man their mother had told them was their father, many of these tormentors approached Calvin to claim their rights. However, on the very day of his father’s funeral, Calvin had already ordered a raid on the central registry office and had all the documents destroyed.
However, 20 and 4 hours after Calvin had taken his seat on the throne, three men armed to the teeth burst into the room containing the golden eggs. Still signing orders for excursions, Calvin’s wry smile made his two ears speak out, and they made themselves heard ‘loud and clear’: – “A very warm welcome, my blood brothers; my father always spoke of the three of you. I was actually expecting you. Make yourselves at home.” Burgo, Yannick and Joshua then took their seats. – “May the imposed peace reign amongst us!” declared the three men, all dressed in black.
Burgo took the floor to express his conviction that a new galactic order was approaching planet Earth and that he feared a third world war. For his part, Yannick appeared deeply concerned at the possibility of being attacked by weapons of mass destruction and of no longer being able to continue his adventure of discovering concrete and rubble-covered sites. Joshua, though seemingly shy, was in fact the most feared of the brothers, as he was regarded as a madman swept up in the wake of nuclear warheads; he could barely express his convictions as his emotions became entangled in tears of excitement and gratitude. Even so, he reminded those present that they must honour the memory of Uncle Sam and also bear in mind the smiles of Uncle Sushi. Calvin calmed everyone down and asked the brothers to return peacefully and of their own free will to their respective countries, because everything would be all right in 20 and 4 hours.
Once the first GMS-4 meeting had concluded, in the post-Astúcias era, Calvin immediately sent oxygen bombs to the state led by Yannick, as he had begun to suffer from hydrogen syndrome and the lungs of his heart were already showing signs of disintegration, with the rupture of some valves on the far right. The rot of peace sown by Calvin’s father had allowed Yannick to dig trenches, build cemeteries beneath the rubble and bury shoulderless bodies there. After exterminating several of the ruthless exterminators, the exchange of bodies was merely a pretext to quell the riots and colonise new hives.
Burgo also returned to his homeland, from which his true self had never left. His double, who had eliminated his dangerous nephew, was engaged in truce talks to thwart a plan by the “Aleatória’s Secret”,selling drones shaped like knickers and bras, in the hope of deceiving the hallucinatory vision of the bourgeois imperialist. With the year 2025 well underway and time standing still to observe the events, the 20 and 4 were still on the road; Burgo and Yannick continued their devastating saga, as they had the unconditional support of Joshua, Calvin’s undisputed friend. However, the deck of cards was beginning to show signs of atmospheric pollution, and some arsonists from both the present and the former continent began to tremble with anxiety.
Nervousness touches the brilliant mind of a flamboyant being, who begins to extend his tentacles to the far reaches of his right cheek. Calvin feels even more at ease, for a delirious dream whispers in his right ear that the rocket will never fall apart, and he then begins the process of integrating these alluring frontiers. He began in the North with the sugar cane and continued southwards with the fabric of the sea. At that moment, another television channel showed that one side of Uncle Sushi’s enigmatic smile was beginning to shrink. A clash of smiles with Calvin thus seemed inevitable. Regarded as a staunch opponent of the knowledge of the angels’ sex and a regular practitioner of forced sex, the TV images did not seem Fake News,when the world watched as the stroke of the pen ordered the release from the dungeons of those ‘wronged by the justice system’. With courage lodged in their throats, a glint of allure in the corners of their eyes and their hands laden with dynamite, Calvin and the cabin crew took to the skies in search of new fossilised paradises.
Under the sleepy gaze of the hexagon and with Ontario’s radars switched off, the landing at the “"Green and Land”It was like putting sweets in a child’s mouth. Not even the most gullible of brilliant minds could muster the clarity of thought to argue their case and stay put. The exodus of the islanders was total, and the invasion by the miners laid bare the triumphant trenches, even without the presence of the shackled and chained prisoners from Minas Gerais. In"Green and Land”there was a great deal of ice and no vegetation, neither thick nor sparse, and the midnight sun remained silent, saying nothing about the invasion of the island.
However, fearing that the Northern Lights might fail during the winter due to the disruption of the gaseous aurora, the naturalists and elders of the ancient continent set their contingency plan in motion. Kitted out in uniforms and military equipment of the highest technological standard, both the beauties and the playboys were authorised to join the marine platoon. Indeed, a large-scale, universal attack was imminent, launched by elite forces from an adversarial triathlon of operations. The stage had been set long before 20:00, and it took just four hours for the pendrive that the secret information might be discovered by one of the employees closest to Calvin. However, the secret got out and found its way to the Atoms’ house to deliver the cyanide to them. But the housewife had run out of cream, and the whipped cream turned into a collection of blackmail material.
Entrementes, o contrabando de informações fazia aquecer os neurónios das fibras óticas enquanto a “Estrela Link” ordenava a liberalização de utilização massiva do “TokTick” e mandava para as calendas gregas os Check-Fact. Concomitantemente, o sabor do “Tic Tac” estava já bastante amargo e azedo, que as agulhas do relógio no Pólo Norte pendulavam desorientadas. Aproveitando do desacerto na ponta da língua dos anti ortodoxos, Burgo e Yannick continuavam a abrir mais valas de triunfo e a instalar novas colmeias. Este último, motivado pelas bombas de oxigénio que recebera, seu peito encheu de hidrogénio e, da ponta da língua, disparou um míssil em direção à zona vizinha de Atalaia. O palácio do Aiatola foi atingido e a Xaria não pôde fazer milagre algum. O Xeque-Mate foi mortal e várias cabeças de Sheiks rolaram em direção às valas descomunais. O colapso estava iminente e o colossal parecia estar a definhar-se. Os horários desencontraram-se e o tio Sushi encurtou os dois lados do sorriso e mandou entrar em cena os iscariotes. Os ateus ainda ansiavam por um diálogo Norte-Norte, porém, os deslocados do Sul Global já estavam com demasiado sal na ponta da língua e nada os faria mover das faixas do areal das praias de mar. Ao menos ali podiam morrer afogados e não carbonizados.
Extremamente irritado com tantas “provocações e atrevimento”, Calvin enviou todos os seus aviões portáteis para os teatros das operações. Como não havia natas suficientes do lado da cara-metade, o fervor das conquistas, das vitórias e dos triunfos se esbarraram com a inteligência facial do “KeepSleek”. A magreza da fome, estampada na face dos deslocados que ainda resistiam ao extermínio, contrastava com o sorriso belicista de Yannick. A tensão arterial aumentava e o fluxo de material bélico também. O tempo foi-se embora, juntamente com as 20 e 4 horas. O sol e a lua também fugiram, ante a iminência de uma guerra nuclear. As retinas das alterações climáticas, de tão embaçadas com a emissão de gases, já não conseguiam distinguir o joio do trigo e todas as plantações eram fustigadas pela fúria da natureza. Ainda assim, no meio às tempestades, incêndios, inundações e derrocadas, os navios de guerra enfrentavam os furacões, os drones tentavam fintar os relâmpagos e os soldados tentavam escapar ao lamaçal de minas e às ameaças de tortura e morte. Tudo para fazer valer as “Valas de Triunfo”, as “Operações Especiais” e não deixar morrer os “Planos de Vitória”.
Na sala oval, as galinhas de ovos de ouro foram todas colocadas num bunker. Ao lado, na sala de controle operacional, tentava-se, através de sessões intensas de videoconferência, uma solução para o conflito, antes que algum louco varrido pelo bafejo das ogivas carregasse no botão vermelho. A expulsão da Cruz Vermelha e dos capacetes azuis não era um bom sinal para a paz. Por outro lado, reinava uma desconfiança total nas linhas aéreas por causa da psicologia das cores, que andava a baralhar os cálculos dos controladores do tráfego aéreo, segundo a análise científica de Calvin. Ademais, o episódio com o sobrinho perigoso de Burgo acentuava ainda mais a desconfiança entre os párias do jogo “Valas de Triunfo”.
As conferências de paz duraram o tempo que foi possível. Chegaram ao fim e nenhum acordo foi alcançado. A guerra de nervos, de palavras e de intimidações prevaleceu. As ameaças de pesadelos entraram nos navios, para testar os canais e os portos todos. Novas artilharias e arsenais foram enviados à terra santa, para dar sinais ao Monte Sinai: a narrativa do “a jeito ou à força militar” não deve ser encarado como piada de palhaço. Já com a madrugada a despedir-se da noite dos Óscares, a esperança ia abraçando todos os artistas e pedir-lhes que trespassassem esse abraço à humanidade, através das suas artes. O desejo da esperança é impedir que a abertura de valas descomunais, seja para esconder os raptados ou os raptores, seja para enterrar os exterminados, continue a avançar faixa adentro; que o discurso com a cicuta na ponta da língua não tenha mais reedições; que a sensatez da responsabilidade saiba escolher os termos para um acordo que vise a paz pela paz; que o medo e o sofrimento deixassem de ser as armas de destruição maciça, pois os loucos bélicos podem sê‐lo fora do controlo emocional e algum botão pode mesmo ser apertado. Aquilo que o abraço da esperança alerta é para o facto do botão vermelho com que o mundo é ameaçado, é um pretexto para semear o caos, a divisão e a invasão impune.
A imposição de fitas em formas de taxas aduaneiras é apenas um mecanismo de distração para com os crimes contra a humanidade. A promoção do namoro entre os anjos é e será uma mera abstração para fomentar o narcisismo dos santos. E o fomento de notícias falsas bem como a censura à liberdade de expressão serão as novas disciplinas nas escolas que tiverem ficado em pé. E as pessoas que não morreram, mas perderam os seus pés, sequer terão um hospital de pé para curar as suas feridas. Aqueles seres humanos que conseguirem ver-se livres das algemas e das correntes, certamente passarão a ter uma ideia básica do que foi a escravatura. Porém, aqueles que resolverem abraçar a desperança terão a companhia da escravidão mental, até que o sonho se transforme em realidade.
Do achado no pendrive, o que não foi revelado é se a “Estrela Link” terá capacidade de apagar todas as memórias sobre valas comuns e substituí-las por memórias de valas de triunfo. Dos documentos desclassificados, não se consegue extrair informações relacionados com o planeta onde passarão a viver Calvin e os seus irmãos. O Alcorão não revela se o tio Sam será ressuscitado, tão pouco a Bíblia revela se os Aiatolas o serão também. O que se sabe é que os braços do oceano continuarão a abraçar o sonho dos povos, que os sóis do meio-dia e da meia noite continuarão a iluminar a mente da coragem e o luar noturno e diurno continuará a alimentar o estômago da esperança daqueles que acreditam na paz pela paz. O que se sabe é que a pobreza não existe, mas sim, que é uma invenção para ludibriar os menos atentos, para os entreter em corridas atrás de camiões e os afastar das salas de aprendizagem e de formação. O que se sabe é que a fome foi criada para alimentar as carteiras de investimento dos senhores da guerra. E o que se finge não saber é que quem doa alimentos numa mão corta a outra mão. É o jogo da incapacitação física e psicológica, visando a exploração humana, de forma permanente e continuada no tempo.
Na madrugada dentro e ao final dos noticiários televisivos, os softwares de inteligência artificial entraram num novo palco de confrontação. A produção de informação ultrapassou a velocidade da luz e a mente humana se anestesia com os efeitos das alterações climáticas. As cores do arco-íris começaram a desvanecer-se do ecrã televisivo. As minhas retinas acusaram o cansaço e a minha mente se retraiu completamente, atingido por uma das balas perdidas da hipocrisia. O pivô de um dos canais televisivos anunciou o fecho de emissões, por ordens executivas de Calvin, informando que em 20 e 4 horas todos os canais de sinal aberto seriam classificados. O jogo das Valas de Triunfo só poderia ser acompanhado, a partir de então, nas redes XKM, mediante compra de direitos. Por bem ou por mal, informou o corretor que há verbas suficientes para qualquer cidadão do espaço comunitário aceder a mecanismos de financiamento. Não tendo eu força anímica para confrontar esta narrativa, resta-me, por ora, despedir-me deste conto, sem acrescentar mais nenhum ponto. Até porque sinto um barulho no meu quintal e o meu cão parou de latir. Este é o último click, para salvar nas nuvens esta história.