It is true that when one begins to dream he's dreaming, in the middle of a dream, he's about to wake up. So let's tie all the perceptions up, be them the housemaid Ségolène Royale and her two pages, Strauss-Kahn and Fabius or a discredited portuguese politician, such as Pedro Santana Lopes, be them Gen. Pinochet who indulges in receiving, privately, the families of the thousands he order to be slaughtered, or the crazy Moqtada Al-Sadr, who invokes God and Country everytime he determines someone to be killed, and let's prick ourselves to know we are just dreaming. Maybe we'll wake up.
Let's pretend that the persons we admire, such as Napoleon or Maometh, were above any suspicion. Let's cross S. Peter's Square and imagine that behind those walls, sanctity and compassion have flourished, beyond any reasonable doubt. Let's switch on the TV and breath in the colours of Democracy and Freedom till dawn. Let's believe there are Civilizations, pregnant with the Son of God, ready to unfurl waves of wisemen and leaders whose sayings and writings should occupy our minds till we fall blind and smashed with devotion for their sayings. Maybe, then, with a much longed for book in our hands we'll wake up and say: I won't read it.
Let's take everything which is heavy and dignified, moulded in golden bronze and then, yawn of pleasure in front of the housemaid Ségolène Royale, who smiles all the time over her big breast, leading all the smart and determined housewives for a new Century of girl's power. Maybe we'll wake up then. The Great Heidegger and the Great Nietzsche said that thinking his hard, it requires owl's eyes to see the Reality, it is not just for anyone and everything returns, just give yourself up to this Grand Reality.
Yes, yes. And just wake up of this stupid, abject dream.
Go do something loving and caring.