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The virus is not the parasite, the catastrophe, the malady. The silent (re)cognition of helplessness is. Face to face with the monster we (re)create and feed, rearing its ugly head, its laughter towards us griping to the marrow, where it nourished itself over centuries. The helplessness. The true parasite, the real catastrophe. The almost fantabulous acceptance of the sovereignty of the system over the human species, the representative, its god, a subdued god, without heaven or hell.

Before Virus there was, let’s call it money, in aware it is a symbol for an assortment of malady; and nobody cared much, but everyone cared constantly about acutely. A daily crisis turns into submission and routine. With the virus arises the apologetic crisis of the global economy – in the constant crisis of society. Not the shortage of resources or safeguard, but the threat to be; you will have to be able to afford being. Not Survival. The threat shall remind us all that After Virus it is not over. And that we will go back to normal. That is a promise! The normal most of us wish for now or latest in weeks. Back to normal, and we will not complain anymore, about normal. We want to be more humble, more aware, more conscious, maybe even less think about only ourselves. We will change to the impossible normal. – Punching the air a bit. Feel the heart beat rising.

And you may need to ask with an infantile simplicity how it is possible. This. That the monster truly turns out to be a monster. Why none of the exterritorial, international, global, networks, agreements, bonds, hand shakes and affairs are actually supportive, or even help. Social Media. Technology. Science. The sheer endlessness of investment capital. Result in a system overload. A lack of everything, because there is a bill to it. Money! Hail Money! We praise you all! And it was never designed to serve but to conquer and enslave.
And you may (en)vision with an infantile imagination how a society, which rears for the benefit of a solidary community, how such a collaborative mind would react to such exception. Who would talk about money. About race of science, in a sense of economic supremacy, to discover a cure. Who would not want to flame up once the possible showing its teeth. And we are all caught up in the vice of the monster, screaming, screaming at it, whining for help, trapped in a Stockholm syndrome.
We can’t wait to return to normal. The normal consumerism, racism, fascism, hate, violence, war, poverty, exploitation and the extinction of life.
The propaganda is already storyboarding the campaign, how we defeated the virus, how we stood together, side by side, in good times and in bad times – and the bad times haven’t even begun.