Consciência Libertária!

Let's take a ride out
See what we can find

A valueless colection of
Hopes and past desires

A continuidade das coisas é, de fato, imutável?
E essa sensação de conforto, de dormência? Verdadeiro estado inercial!!!! Essa profunda dormência.... inibe os sentidos...
inibe os sentidos!! E cega... é cega! É como uma luz que ofusca após um momento no escuro. Mas é passageira (deveria ser ao menos). Ilusão de ótica que traz consigo interpretações errôneas da realidade.

É muito fácil usar de exclamações contundentes a fim de apontar verdades relativas, parciais. "Vá ler um livro!", "Desligue a televisão!"...
Mas seria essa a raiz a ser cortada??
Há consciência da própria realidade por parte de quem não aprendeu a pensar por si só?
É sabido que nascemos e é sabido que morremos. Morreremos! Mas, e no meio do caminho? conquistamos? Tomamos consciência disso, ou morremos sonhando um sonho de vida americano?


Há de se quebrar o movimento inercial ao qual tendemos todos!

Rage Against The Machine - Bullet In The Head


This time the bullet cold rocked ya
A yellow ribbon instead of a swastika
Nothin' proper about ya propaganda
Fools follow rules when the set commands ya
Said it was blue
When ya blood was read
That's how ya got a bullet blasted through ya head

Blasted through ya head
Blasted through ya head

I give a shout out to the living dead
Who stood and watched as the feds cold centralised
So serene on the screen
You was mesmerised
Cellular phones soundin' a death tone
Corporations cold
Turn ya to stone before ya realise

They load the clip in omnicolour
Said they pack the 9, they fire it at prime time
The sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz
And mutha fuckas lost their minds

Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high
Yeah
Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high
Run it!



Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high
Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high

Check-a, check-a, check it out
They load the clip in omnicolour
Said they pack the 9, they fire it at prime time
The sleeping gas, every home was like Alcatraz
And mutha fuckas lost their minds

No escape from the mass mind rape
Play it again jack and then rewind the tape
And then play it again and again and again
Until ya mind is locked in
Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya
Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya
They say jump and ya say how high
Ya brain-dead
Ya gotta fuckin' bullet in ya head

Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high
Yeah
Just victims of the in-house drive-by
They say jump, you say how high

Uggh! Yeah! Yea!

Ya standin' in line
Believin' the lies
Ya bowin' down to the flag
Ya gotta bullet in ya head

Ya standin' in line
Believin' the lies
Ya bowin' down to the flag
Ya gotta bullet in ya head

A bullet in ya head
A bullet in ya head
Ya gotta bullet in ya fuckin' head!
Yeah!
Yeah!







Ya gotta bullet in ya fuckin' head!!!!

Doctor Doctor what is wrong with me
This supermarket life is getting long
What is the heart life of a colour TV
What is the shelf life of a teenage queen
Ooh western woman
Ooh western girl
News hound sniffs the air
When Jessica Hahn goes down
He latches on to that symbol
Of detachment
Attracted by the peeling away of feeling
The celebrity of the abused shell the belle
Ooh western woman
Ooh western girl
And the children of Melrose
Strut their stuff
Is absolute zero cold enough
And out in the valley warm and clean
The little ones sit by their TV screens
No thoughts to think
No tears to cry
All sucked dry
Down to the very last breath
Bartender what is wrong with me
Why am I so out of breath
The captain said excuse me ma'am
This species has amused itself to death
Amused itself to death
Amused itself to death
We watched the tragedy unfold
We did as we were told
We bought and sold
It was the greatest show on earth
But then it was over
We ohhed and aahed
We drove our racing cars
We ate our last few jars of caviar
And somewhere out there in the stars
A keen-eyed look-out
Spied a flickering light
Our last hurrah
And when they found our shadows
Grouped around the TV sets
They ran down every lead
They repeated every test
They checked out all the data on their lists
And then the alien anthropologists
Admitted they were still perplexed
But on eliminating every other reason
For our sad demise
They logged the explanation left
This species has amused itself to death
No tears to cry no feelings left
This species has amused itself to death

(Roger Waters)