Rand e os ratos

As últimas semanas têm sido férteis no ressurgimento dos apologistas da morte, das prisões em massa, da fome. Parece que de repente, levantaram-se e saíram de debaixo das pedras para onde tinham fugido em 89e os que não se tinham escondido, largam as máscaras de palhaço pobre que usaram estes anos. Vários factos contribuíram, para isto embora a razão primeira seja só uma: a “cultura do repúdio” (Roger Scruton, O Ocidente e o Resto). A aparente força islamofascista, a doença de El Comandante, o poder da mentira mediática simbolizada na Reuters …Quando oiço ou leio Miguel Portas, Pedro Namora, Não-sei-quantos Vilarigues, Sousa Santos, Saramago e outros, ocorre-me esta passagem de The Fountainhead de Ayn Rand (Steven Mallory é o personagem que o diz):

...Listen, what's the most horrible experience you can imagine? To me-it's being left, unarmed, in a sealed cell with a drooling beast of prey or a maniac who's had some disease that's eaten his brain out. You'd have nothing then but your voice-your voice and your thought. You'd scream to that creature why it should not touch you, you'd have the most eloquent words, the unanswearable words, you'd become the vessel of the absolute truth. And you'd see living eyes watching you and you'd know that the thing can't hear you, that it can't be reached, not reached, not in any way, yet it's breathing and moving there before you with a purpose of it's own. That's horror. Well, that's what's hanging over the world, prowling somewhere through mankind, that same thing, something closed, mindless, utterly wanton, but something with an aim and a cunning of it's own. I don't think I'm a coward, but I'm afraid of it. And that's all I know-only that it exists. I don't know it's purpose, I don't know it's nature.

Com uma diferença: sabemos o propósito, sabemos a natureza. O que torna as coisas mais aterradoras e inevitáveis.