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Traian Ungureanu face o analiza interesanta a semnificatiei alegerii lui Obama, din perspectiva dezideologizarii jocului politic, in editorialul Mitologia in America. Unghiul e bun, pentru ca sesizeaza tendinta de a suprima disputa partizana de idei de dragul unei corectitudini politice in numele careia oricine nu il sustine pe Obama e un rasist retrograd.
Dar exista o doza de exagerare intr-o asemenea abordare. In noaptea alegerilor, CNN a marcat o premiera tehnica: pentru prima data, relatarea dintr-un alt oras s-a facut prin intermediul unei holograme care o intruchipa pe corespondenta postului respectiv. Obama e si el tot un fel de holograma, un purtator de mesaj al unor specialisti in marketing care tin locul tehnologiei de varf. Un mesaj conciliant, ca muzica de la radiourile cu succes la public. Ar trebui oare sa ne ingrijoram, cum face Traian Ungureanu, de accederea la putere a celui mai stangist dintre senatorii americani? Va fi el promotorul unei reforme care sa placidizeze SUA dupa modelul nefericit pus in opera de euro-birocratii batranului continent?
Speranta mea vine tocmai din calitatea de holograma a tanarului presedinte Obama, pe care nu-l vad in stare sa puna in practica nicio linie ideologica. Balansul intre cele doua extreme actuale ale spectrului politic american – stangismul lui Obama si neo-conservatorismul lui Bush – e mai curand benefic pe termen lung democratiei de peste Atlantic. Sub Bush, libertatea s-a intepenit in marsarier (dupa cum canta, ironia sortii, tocmai un cantaret de country, pro-republican: “our freedom’s stucked in reverse”), dar chiar si asa, e greu de crezut ca urmele lasate de junior vor mai insemna ceva peste niste ani. Si chiar sa-l crezi pe Obama, fie el aproape socialist in convingeri, in stare sa faca mai mult rau decat a facut neghibia lui Bush, mi se pare prea mult.
La urma urmei, Obama nu e nici atat de negru pe cat ne impinge sa credem cliseul cu “schimbarea istorica”. E ma curand, asa cum o arata si un articol din seria obama-mania un presedinte-oracol, cu o puzderie de hobby-uri dintre cele mai bizare, care te fac sa te intrebi cand mai are timp si sa conduca o jumatate de continent.

 

Buffalo soldier, dreadlock rasta:
There was a buffalo soldier in the heart of america,
Stolen from Africa, brought to America,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival.

I mean it, when I analyze the stench –
To me it makes a lot of sense:
How the dreadlock rasta was the buffalo soldier,
And he was taken from Africa, brought to America,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival.

Said he was a buffalo soldier, dreadlock Rasta –
Buffalo soldier in the heart of America.

If you know your history,
Then you would know where you coming from,
Then you wouldnt have to ask me,
Who the eck do I think I am.

Im just a buffalo soldier in the heart of America,
Stolen from Africa, brought to America,
Said he was fighting on arrival, fighting for survival;
Said he was a buffalo soldier win the war for America.

Dreadie, woy yoy yoy …
Buffalo soldier troddin through the land, wo-ho-ooh!
Said he wanna ran, then you wanna hand,
Troddin through the land, yea-hea, yea-ea.

Said he was a buffalo soldier win the war for America;
Buffalo soldier, dreadlock rasta,
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival;
Driven from the mainland to the heart of the Caribbean.

Singing, woy yoy yoy!

Troddin through san juan in the arms of America;
Troddin through jamaica, a buffalo soldier
Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival:
Buffalo soldier, dreadlock Rasta.

Woy yoy yoy …



Born down in a dead man’s town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much
‘Til you spend half your life just covering up

Born in the USA
Born in the USA
Born in the USA
Born in the USA

I got in a little hometown jam
And so they put a rifle in my hands
Sent me off to Vietnam
To go and kill the yellow man

Come back home to the refinery
Hiring man says "Son if it was up to me"
I go down to see the V.A. man
He said "Son don’t you understand"

I had a buddy at Khe Sahn
Fighting off the Viet Cong
They’re still there, he’s all gone
He had a little girl in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
I’m ten years down the road
Nowhere to run, ain’t got nowhere to go

I’m a long gone Daddy in the USA
Born in the USA
I’m a cool rocking Daddy in the USA
Born in the USA



Pagina 3 of 3123

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