Whenever the world caught fire, there were those who invented new dreams. It is absurd, for men of war, when the word “dream” appears associated with new ideas and false hopes. In apocalypses, those who send people to death do not want alternative realities or chances of revolt, they need fresh meat to feed their hunger for power.
The world is heading towards an abyss. Everywhere there are millions of people who legitimize voting crazy. That’s not what surprises me, it’s always been that way. What wasn’t always like this is the absence of anyone to convince us that there is a dream to be dreamed. There are no more existentialists, neorealists, surrealists and abjectionists. Everyone is on their own and navigating around their own navel – even those who have a lot of talent.
There is no longer anyone who invents a new city, like Carl Barks, in 1944. In the middle of the Second World War, when deaths were being discussed in America and no one knew what to expect, the designer created, with the talent of a pencil and an eraser, the city of Patópolis, where children’s friends were protected in an organized and orderly world.
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