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Am vazut un documentar foarte interesant pe Viasat Explorer sambata, de la 11 (se pare ca va avea si o continuare). Potrivit studiilor citate in film, doar 2% dintre soldatii angajati intr-o infruntare directa cu inamicul trag pentru a ucide. Si ca o coincidenta uimitoare, intr-un alt studiu, 98% dintre soldati au probleme de ordin psihologic mai mici sau mai mari la intoarcerea acasa.
Confruntati cu perspectiva de a-si ucide semenii, cei mai multi dintre soldati folosesc in mod mai mult sau mai putin constient tertipuri, explicate prin instinctul de conservare a speciei. De asemenea, multe dintre actele de violenta sunt in fapt menite sa intimideze oponentul, nu sa-l anihileze; de exemplu, armatele de pe timpul lui Napoleon ar fi putut produce un numar mult mai mare de victime daca ar fi folosit arcuri cu sageti in locul ineficientelor dar zgomotoaselor muschete. Numarul mare de victime din timpul ultimelor razboaie e pus pe seama aparitiei armelor care nu necesita contactul vizual cu oponentul.
Cei 2% “natural born killers” se impart in psihopati (agresivitate ridicata, empatie scazuta, capacitate redusa de a interpreta mesajele emotionale ale celorlalti, absenta compasiunii) si “eroi”, care isi motiveaza actele prin dorinta de a-si proteja camarazii de un pericol iminent.
Aceste date stiintifice par sa confirme ca in om exista o lege morala (ca in dictonul lui Kant), gravata chiar in straturile de profunzime ale creierului, activate in conditii extreme de stres. Iar daca porunca “Sa nu ucizi” e atat de profund inradacinata in om, ne putem aminti si de ceea ce Apostolul Pavel scria in Epistola catre Romani (cp 2, vs 14): “[…] paganii, care nu au lege, din fire fac cele ale legii, acestia neavand lege, isi sunt lorusi lege […]”

 

Baby, I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been waiting
Night and day
I didn’t see the time,
I waited half my life away
There were lots of invitations
And I know you sent me some,
But I was waiting
For the miracle,
For the miracle to come

I know you really loved me
but, you see,
my hands were tied
I know it must have hurt you,
it must have hurt your pride
to have to stand
beneath my window
with your bugle
and your drum,
and me I’m up there waiting
for the miracle,
for the miracle to come

Ah I don’t believe you’d like it,
You wouldn’t like it here
There ain’t no entertainment
and the judgements are severe
The Maestro says it’s Mozart
but it sounds like bubble gum
when you’re waiting
for the miracle,
for the miracle to come

Waiting for the miracle
There’s nothing left to do
I haven’t been this happy
since the end of World War II

Nothing left to do
when you know
that you’ve been taken
Nothing left to do
when you’re begging for a crumb
Nothing left to do
when you’ve got to go on waiting
waiting for the miracle to come

I dreamed about you, baby
It was just the other night
Most of you was naked
Ah but some of you was light
The sands of time were falling
from your fingers and your thumb,
and you were waiting
for the miracle,
for the miracle to come

Ah baby, let’s get married,
We’ve been alone too long
Let’s be alone together
Let’s see if we’re that strong
Yeah let’s do something crazy,
Something absolutely wrong
While we’re waiting
For the miracle,
for the miracle to come

Nothing left to do …

When you’ve fallen
on the highway
and you’re lying
in the rain,
and they ask you
how you’re doing
of course you’ll say
you can’t complain –
If you’re squeezed
for information,
that’s when you’ve got to
play it dumb:
You just say
you’re out there waiting
for the miracle,
for the miracle to come

Ah baby, let’s get married,
We’ve been alone too long…


Give me back my broken night
my mirrored room, my secret life
it’s lonely here,
there’s no one left to torture
Give me absolute control
over every living soul
And lie beside me, baby,
that’s an order!

Give me crack and anal sex
Take the only tree that’s left
stuff it up the hole
in your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
give me Stalin and St Paul
I’ve seen the future, brother:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide, slide in all directions
Won’t be nothing
Nothing you can measure anymore
The blizzard, the blizzard of the world
has crossed the threshold
and it has overturned
the order of the soul
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant
When they said REPENT REPENT
I wonder what they meant.

You don’t know me from the wind
you never will, you never did
I was the little jew
who wrote the Bible
I’ve seen the nations rise and fall
I’ve heard their stories, heard them all
but love’s the only engine of survival
Your servant here, he has been told
to say it clear, to say it cold:
It’s over, it ain’t going
any further
And now the wheels of heaven stop
you feel the devil’s RIDING crop
Get ready for the future:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide …

There’ll be the breaking of the ancient
western code
Your private life will suddenly explode
There’ll be phantoms
There’ll be fires on the road
and a white man dancing
You’ll see a woman
hanging upside down
her features covered by her fallen gown
and all the lousy little poets
coming round
tryin’ to sound like Charlie Manson
and the white man dancin’.

Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St Paul
Give me Christ
or give me Hiroshima
Destroy another fetus now
We don’t like children anyhow
I’ve seen the future, baby:
it is murder.

Things are going to slide …

When they said REPENT REPENT …

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