no. 23 Editorial
Moodboard

ISSN · 2183-5527

Visual Essay + Author in residence

7 Portraits

7 Portraits

João Fonte Santa

VHS, 29' By João Fonte Santa, assisted by António Caramelo The video Sete Retratos was created for the exhibition Mundo de Aventuras, curated by José Alberto Ferreira, and features 7 video portraits, …

7 Portraits

B, Y, R

Visual Essay

B, Y, R

Henrique Biatto

Água Viva

Visual Essay

Água Viva

Lander Patrick, Gonçalo Marques, José Soares

Through the longest path

Visual Essay

Through the longest path

Margarida Rodrigues (MAR)

Working with mountains is easy

Article

Working with mountains is easy

Isadora Alves

Process Of Unframability

Sound Essay

Process Of Unframability

Frantz Loriot

Drowned, in the shame of light

Visual Essay

Drowned, in the shame of light

Isabela Abate & João Castro

Workbook on the adaptation of the play The Man Outside (1947)

Visual Essay

Workbook on the adaptation of the play The Man Outside (1947)

Pedro Paiva

Sightings

Visual Essay

Sightings

Francisco Novais

HALF A STEP FROM HOME

Visual Essay

HALF A STEP FROM HOME

António Olaio

Misfits

Visual Essay

Misfits

Fabrizio Matos

Out Of Here

Sound Essay

Out Of Here

Quatroconnection (Carla Santana)

Weiße Rose

Visual Essay + Author in residence

Weiße Rose

João Fonte Santa

it was just drained, drained

Sound Essay

it was just drained, drained

André Hencleeday

Lavagem

Visual Essay

Lavagem

João Jacinto

XXX

Visual Essay + Author in residence

XXX

João Fonte Santa

The hand with no specialty

Visual Essay

The hand with no specialty

Carolina Lino

Wrong Wrong n.23

Misfits

Visual Essay 25.01.2021

Daydreams of a Mortgaged Democracy

Raquel Lima

Democracy is an idea transformed into goods and services,
Bought with savings, bought for almost nothing.
Bought in the belief that it was a transaction without interest,
Reliable, irreversible, and with an unlimited warranty.

In the end, it was a loan on credit to capitalism,
Temporary, inflationary, at interest, right into the abyss.

Capital generated accumulated and reinvested wealth,
While the masses believed in social security:
They paid taxes, and got taxed, paid again, were taxed again,
They were granted human rights, however mechanically.

Of all systems, the democratic was the fairest and most coherent.
A whole legal circus was raised on a hoisted flag,
And we followed, believing in the solution,
Never dreaming that democracy would, later on, be mortgaged.

The large house was equipped with a variety of shelves
Full of rights, economies, literatures, arts and blunders
Humanities, sociologies, sciences, education
And in all of them, they assured us, was freedom of expression.

Blacks in the fields, have long shouted that there is no democracy.
They’re not taken as humans, but resources and merchandise.
So they thought they’d put up a few more shelves in the house:
Biology, human resources and anthropology, up front.

But selling democracy required a major investment,
Selling us the illusion of full-time self-control
And at the same time abolishing the idea of emancipation
So that banks, borders and churches would stand in for salvation.

The house of oppression was next door to the house of fascism.
They both sustained the long-built mansion of capitalism.
To mortgage democracy – four coats of fresh paint,
Change the doors and the locks, hide the drawers in the attic.

Painting the façade was the most difficult part.
Even the Republicans and Democrats came to help!
But since beautiful outfits were always on show
They moved from right to left teasing us with candidates

Meanwhile the houses grew so democratically
That few smelled the smell of rot in the air,
That smelled of genocide: Jewish, Indigenous, Black and Romany,
But back in the house they danced to Fado, Flamenco and Tango

Democracy... an idea transformed into goods and services,
Bought with savings, bought for almost nothing.
Bought in the belief that it was a transaction without interest
Reliable, irreversible, and with an unlimited warranty.

In the end it was a loan on credit, to capitalism,
Temporary, inflationary, at interest, right into the abyss.

And everyone knew that greed and ostentation
Were just the younger sisters of Madame Colonization
Even so, they went on buying democracy
Naïvely, innocently, ignorantly and stubbornly.

And if anyone dared to say anything about global warming,
«Oh that, what silliness, it’s part of things, it’s natural,»
It smells like carbon dioxide, gasses and greenhouses,
Burnt fossil fuels and tropical rain forests.

Years of silenced voices: years of democracy
Years of lives destroyed: years of democracy
Years of women raped, exiled, enslaved:
Years of democracy

Years of spying on the rebels of liberation
It smelled like guerrillas, like denunciations and theories of revolution
And when what was clandestine drained the budget
Then some megalomaniac genius invented social networks

Because in the democratic world we’ll be able to share
A fulfilled life, and everything we dream of:
Ideologies, political parties, where we’re going on vacation,
Arts, cars, lifestyles and everything we want to buy,

Nothing like offering ourselves up on the salver,
What the masses reflect and the people long for,
Cherry on top of the cake free of worry:
The Internet dictating what’s true, history or fiction,

Democracy…an idea transformed into a virus,
Bought with savings, bought for almost nothing.
Bought in the belief that it was a great buy.
But the interest? …that was the third world war.

–

Translated from Portuguese by Martin Earl

–

HUMMING FOR THE END

Si

Sabyne Cavalcanti