Wednesday, September 15, 2004

The Geography Of Violence

He wanted to live like Native Americans of his romantic fantasies, but the desert of brownstone was the only dwelling he knew of. Its forests were asphalt and concrete, its air dust and exhaust fumes, its territorial marks stains of oil and graffitis. Everyone passing him on the street was a stranger; everyone was alone in the crowd. The tribes would gather evenings at bars, kept in touch through the Internet. In the end everyone was lonely, and as for him, he was a wanderer in the desolation of stone. Only reflections everywhere in the maze of mirrors, his face repeated thousand-fold and distorted. The fragile mirror people easily broken; everyone of them a seven years' misfortune. His face was tempered into a mask which didn't let any emotions through. He was only passing through, the ostensible indifference was the means of survival in the city.

By night the city became a labyrinth of fear. The predators surfaced out of their hiding holes: the beasts pushed into a corner, knowing no other recourse than to attack. It was wisest only to walk fast; not to glance around if one didn't want to end up in the middle of a turf struggle, where everyone could become the victim of random, senseless violence. It was the only way to react for those downtrodden and pushed into a corner; the only indication of power they didn't really have: a turf fight over a filthy patch of the street. When one was part of a gang, it was easy to kick a lonely victim in the head; a victim who had no ways to defend oneself or to fight back. The only reason for this punishment being that one was in the wrong time in the wrong place.

The anatomy of a human beast was created in the suburbs where tens of children were pushed into school classes, being taught from the very beginning that one was no-one and nothing, and nothing matters. The parents were not interested: just warm up yourself some pizza in the microwave oven, here's a tenner, now get off my feet. The upbringing was taken care by the street and violent entertainment of TV, movies and computer games. No responsibility for anything or anyone. Thus is created human filth. Rats pushed into a corner.

No comments: