Article: 495 of sgi.talk.ratical From: (dave "who can do? ratmandu!" ratcliffe) Subject: Snapshots of a world coming apart at the seams Keywords: what kind of society do we *really* want to live in/be a part of? Organization: Silicon Graphics, Inc. Date: Wed, 19 Feb 1992 17:32:49 GMT Lines: 160 i have heard just a brief segment of Eduardo Galeano speaking on the radio recently. he was WONDERFUL! if you ever get the chance, CHECK HIM OUT. Know that the people who are the richest are not those who have the most, but those who need the least. --ratitor In our era, we no longer work to live. We live to work. . . . in the places where development is at its apex, should humans work like ants? To be is to have, says the system. But in the end, things are the masters of people. The automobile, for example, not only takes up space but also time. Much of the workday pays for the commute to the workplace. Cars, portable telephones, televisions, VCRs and personal computers, all conceived to save or to pass time, actually appropriate time. Over the last 20 years, the workday has grown longer in the U.S. The number of Americans suffering from stress has doubled. According to the World Health Organization, the U.S. consumes almost half of all tranquilizers sold on the planet. . . . Last year in Buenos Aires, an engineer shot two young thieves who had stolen the cassette player from his car. Bernardo Neustadt, an influential Argentine journalist, told a local television station, "I would have done the same thing." In a savage capitalist society, the right to own is more important than the right to live. the following appeared in the Feb. 5-11, 1992 issue of "In These Times:" ________________________________________________________________________ Snapshots of a world coming apart at the seams By Eduardo Galeano Uruguay's Eduardo Galeano is a writer who has long chronicled the tensions between the Third World and the First World. The following is excerpted from a longer article that ran in "Le Monde Diplomatique" late last year. The translation is by Kevin O'Donnell. We can be like them, proclaims the giant neon sign on the road to development. The Third World will become the First World. It will be rich and happy, as long as it behaves itself and does what it's told. But, "What cannot be, cannot be, and besides, is impossible," as the bullfighter Pedro el Gallo said so well. If the Third World produced and squandered as much as the rich countries, our planet would perish. Already acid rain kills our forests and lakes. Toxic waste poisons our rivers and seas. In the South, agro-industry rips both trees and humans from their roots. With delirious enthusiasm, mankind is sawing the branch on which it is seated. The average American consumes as much as 50 Haitians. Of course, this statistic does not represent the likes of Baby Doc Duvalier or the average resident of Harlem, but we must ask ourselves anyway: What would happen if the 50 Haitians consumed as many cars, as many televisions, as many refrigerators or as many luxury goods as the one American? Nothing. Nothing would ever happen again. We would have to change planets. Ours, which is already close to catastrophe, couldn't take it. The precarious equilibrium of the world depends on the perpetuation of injustice. So that some can consume more, people must continue to consume less. To keep people in their place, the system produced armaments. Incapable of fighting poverty, the system fights the poor. "Life is something that happens while you're doing something else," John Lennon used to say. In our era, we no longer work to live. We live to work. Some work ever harder in order to satisfy their basic necessities. Others work ever harder in order to squander. In Latin America, the eight-hour workday pertains to the realm of abstract art. Moon-lighting, rarely reflected in statistics, is a way of life for people who have no other way to escape hunger. But, in the places where development is at its apex, should humans work like ants? To be is to have, says the system. But in the end, things are the masters of people. The automobile, for example, not only takes up space but also time. Much of the workday pays for the commute to the workplace. Cars, portable telephones, televisions, VCRs and personal computers, all conceived to save or to pass time, actually appropriate time. Over the last 20 years, the workday has grown longer in the U.S. The number of Americans suffering from stress has doubled. According to the World Health Organization, the U.S. consumes almost half of all tranquilizers sold on the planet. In Latin America, there are two things that not even the richest can buy: clean air and silence. In Brazil, Volkswagen and Ford produce cars with emission controls for export to the U.S. and Europe. For Brazil, they also produce cars--without controls. Likewise, Argentina refines lead-free gasoline for export and poison for domestic use. Cars are free to cough up gobs of lead. From the car's point of view, lead increases octane and profits. From the human's point of view, lead damages the brain and the nervous system. Cars, masters of the cities, don't listen to the importunate. In June of 1989, Santiago, Chile rivaled Sao Paulo, Brazil, for the world title of biggest polluter. Chile's newly-elected government imposed a few light measures on the 800 tons of noxious gas that becomes part of the city's air each day. Motorists and businesses strongly objected. The right to pollute is a fundamental attraction for foreign investment, almost as important as the right to pay miserable salaries. Walking in a large Latin American city is a high-risk activity. Staying at home is, too. The city as prison: Those who are not prisoners of necessity are prisoners of fear. Those who have something live in fear of the next holdup. Those who have a lot live holed up in fortresses. According to the "New York Times," the police have killed more than 40 children on the streets of Guatemala City. The bodies of child beggars, thieves and rubbish diggers were found without tongues, without eyes, without ears, thrown out like trash. Public opinion creators apologize every day for the crime. Last year in Buenos Aires, an engineer shot two young thieves who had stolen the cassette player from his car. Bernardo Neustadt, an influential Argentine journalist, told a local television station, "I would have done the same thing." In a savage capitalist society, the right to own is more important than the right to live. Since Christopher Columbus, Latin America has lived the development of foreign capitalism as its own tragedy. Now we're starting over. The tragedy repeats itself as a farce. A dwarf plays the role of a child. It is a caricature of development. The "Bolivian Miracle," for example, occurred thanks to drug profits. The tin rush is over, and, along with tin, the mines and the most militant Bolivian unions will fall. The village of Llallagua doesn't have water but does have a parabolic television antenna on top of Mount Calvario. The "Chilean Miracle," product of Gen. Pinochet's magic wand, is now sold to former Eastern bloc countries like snake oil. In Chile, the food supply has increased. So has starvation. Did failure go to Pinochet's head? In 1970, 25 percent of Chileans were poor; today it's 45 percent. Numbers attest but do not repent. Human dignity is a cost- benefit calculation. The sacrifice of the poor is the "social cost" of progress. The West is euphoric in triumph. The collapse of communism gives the West the perfect alibi: In the East it was worse. Were the two systems any different? The West sacrifices justice in the name of liberty on the altar of the goddess productivity. The East used to sacrifice freedom in the name of justice on the altar of the goddess productivity. In the South, let's ask ourselves if this goddess deserves our lives. -- daveus rattus yer friendly neighborhood ratman KOYAANISQATSI ko.yan.nis.qatsi (from the Hopi Language) n. 1. crazy life. 2. life in turmoil. 3. life out of balance. 4. life disintegrating. 5. a state of life that calls for another way of living.