There are evils that come to evil – 06/08/2022 – Antonio Prata

Misfortunes pass, but they leave nits. The 2001 blackout. We fought for months, we lived in pitch black, we left the Christmas tree without a Korean light, we were cold, soaping ourselves with the electric shower off. Then the rationing was coming to an end and when the light came at the end of the tunnel, it was kind of strange. Less light. Less end of the tunnel. It was fluorescent lights. We never left this hospital/notary/laboratory corridor again.

Cold light: the name alone chills the spine. It’s the celiac pupil diet. There must be some relationship between gluten and incandescent light bulbs. They were canceled at the same time. Gluten makes you fat. Incandescent lamp heats up. The crust of the French bread coming out of the oven is yellow and hot like the shade of a lamp at my grandmother’s house. Today the house has collapsed, the lamp is no longer there and, often, above the lampshades, halogen lamps with long necks watch us, like sentries in prison towers.

Ah, the pandemic will make us value human contact! Ah, the pandemic will teach us to protect nature! Ah, the pandemic will show the world that friendship, socializing and a sense of community must prevail over the meritocracy of all against all! Picas: the pandemic normalized you know what? Know what? I’ll tell you what, doves: the audio message plague.

Before the pandemic, WhatsApp was a kind of telegraph. Then it became conversation, meeting, work, DR. That’s when he released the audio. We were so exhausted from looking at the screens that the audio plague ran parallel. It was, at least, a rest for the eyes.

Now, however, we are all vaccinated — the flat-Earthers continue to die like flies, relieved, who knows, to escape the gay communism sponsored by the Rouanet Law of the quilombolas supported by NGOs interested in our niobium. Healthy people, however, taking some precautions, can now go and meet at the bar, in the square, on the corner. The audio message, however, was left to annoy us.

People read much faster than they write. We also read faster than we speak, because the text doesn’t have “Yeah….. So… I was here thinking that… In fact, I had already thought about it before… You know Rodrigo? No Rodriguêra from Logos, Ro Brandão, Taninha’s boyfriend… Yeah… Wait, they’re calling me, here — in blue, that. From the right —. So, as I was saying…”. The guy who sends audio charges you, when you receive it, the same time he spent to send it, which is, to say the least, slack.

Sending an audio without first having the delicacy to ask “can I send you an audio?” it’s like showing up at someone’s house, uninvited, for dinner. (On second thought, “Can I have dinner at your place?” would also sound baggy.) Forget the image. Sending an audio is like holding an acquaintance’s shoulder at a party and talking about yourself without being asked.

This happens a lot, right? Sometimes people start saying “so I left USP and went to do a postgraduate course at Unicamp. At that time I was very interested in papapa pipipi popopó”. It’s like the guy is in a job interview and you’re the employer. At these times, life gets so boring, you feel so urgent to get out of there —the guy is still in 98, until 2022 the track is already empty— that you even feel like asking, no matter how bad it is, to ask: “friend, please , can you send me an audio?”

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