Saltar para: Post [1], Comentar [2], Pesquisa e Arquivos [3]

OURIQ

Um diário trasladado

OURIQ

Um diário trasladado

06
Mar09

...


Eremita

 

 

A chegada do lcd a Ourique é a maior ameaça ao Ouriquense desde que deixei de treinar a pontaria aos comprimidos. As primeiras noites têm sido passadas a ver televisão, com o quarto apenas iluminado pela luz do televisor. É preciso resistir a esta tentação e tentar de novo a aproximação à condição de eremita das cavernas. 

 

Ver a televisão como um telescreen orwelliano é desresponsabilizador mas pouco sério, porque pressupõe que a pessoa não é livre de decidir se pretende ou não possuir o aparelho e por ele ser possuído. A minha angústia não se resolve com tais exercícios, nem com a hipocrisia vigente que faz com que ninguém neste país admita ver telenovelas. Mas ao procurar imagens de televisões e textos sobre o assunto deparei com um cenário distópico que traduz bem os meus fantasmas. Recuperei o texto de um site abandonado, pelo que o cito anonimamente:

 

"I started buying television sets at flea markets, and soon I had collected more than 20 different sizes and brands, all in color — except one — a Grundig from the early seventies. With some degree of improvisation, I began to pile them from the ground up to the ceiling, leaving no space between the sets, thus building a wall of dead screens that looks a little sinister, but only in the morning and afternoon. Every night, not later than 8:59 pm, I take my position on the edge of the bed, with the lights off and a tray with snacks on my lap. I’m always slightly anxious, waiting for the wave of electricity that, running through the screens with the sound of distant rain, anticipates a climatic burst of light and cacophony, when all televisions are turned on at the same time. Only then the room comes alive, just like an amusement park after dusk. I took great care in synchronizing all sets so that there are no delays, and now they unanimously react as a single television with a huge screen broken down in small units. This makes me proud; it wasn’t easy to reconcile Japanese, American and German technologies, all united to give me this long-awaited daily kick, precisely at 9 pm. Over the last few days, I have noticed that the sound has been set at increasingly higher levels and that the colors are more and more saturated, but I take some comfort in knowing that TV addiction is epidemic as never before. I just do it in style.

 

The unleashed sounds invade my room; a wave of uninformative complexity at first, as if I were given God’s ears while keeping the same old mortal brain. After a while, I start noticing female voices taking over the baritone narrators, birds chirping, machine guns firing, and birds still singing in the rare instances when there are no catchy jingles from commercials on the air. I hear the ocean, broken conversations and laughs, languages I can’t understand and music, music being played simultaneously on forbidden tonalities and incompatible rhythms, creating a funny acoustic phenomenon that makes my heart race. Because this can’t go on for much longer than a few minutes, I reach for a painter’s palette with all the remote controls glued and disposed around it like the points of a star. I’ve learned to which remote control each TV set corresponds and I aim accurately, to avoid accidentally shutting down the wrong model. It took me some time to master this technique but now, one by one, as a patient conductor selecting which members of his orchestra to mute, I make silence for the soloist. Then, I clearly hear it for the first time: a harsh, frantic and disturbing sound, the opposite of a slow tune played by an oboe: Spanish.

 

The black and white Grundig is hung in the middle of the wall and broadcasts the contemporary TVE (the Spanish National TV) emissions exclusively. None of the other televisions is committed to a particular channel. In fact, I reset them from time to time, roughly on a weekly basis, to kill any incipient craving for a specific show. The channels are from all over the world, with no obvious selection criteria other than the exclusion of the so-called mainstream media. Just to give you an idea, I’m currently watching news from Tanzania and North Korea; traffic reports from Rio and a Taiwanese version of MTV; a few European channels, including a Turkish one; soft porn from Bangladesh – if one could fathom – and Gregorian chants from the Vatican; the final hour of a morning talk show from Moscow for the elderly, the unemployed, and housewives; the history of Nascar races from a Kentucky station; a Caribbean soap opera; the Old Testament in a bloody Manga version; Finnish home-shopping, which almost got me to order a blender from Perna; and the Rain Forest Witness, this week’s favorite: an eccentric project financed by a multimillionaire fanatic ecologist that broadcasts around the clock from thousands of cameras strategically placed in the heart of the Amazonian forest. I’ll probably reset all these televisions soon, but yesterday, shortly before falling asleep, I am sure I saw a Golden Lion Tamarin, live, which was exciting since I’m in Brooklyn, it has been snowing and I had thought these monkeys were extinct in the wild. I may keep the Rain Forest Witness going for a few more days, in case a unicorn sticks its horn in one of those camera lenses - something I would not want to miss.

 

Everything in the room, except for my TV sets, is disposable..."

 

Pelas referências e pelo inglês algo idiossincrático, diria que o autor é espanhol. Pouco importa. Esta imagem é a expressão do meu medo. O que fazer, então? Ora, inaugurar uma nova série, pois essa é a única solução ao alcance de um blogger. Tentarei pois limitar a influência implacável da televisão aos textos desta série. O modelo é simples: escolher três momentos de um único serão televisivo e escrever as três notas respectivas. Outra regra, no espírito da coisa: não perder mais de 30 minutos com a redacção. E o ícone da série, ainda em conformidade:

 

 

Comentar:

CorretorEmoji

Se preenchido, o e-mail é usado apenas para notificação de respostas.

Pesquisar

Comentários recentes

  • José Quintas

    Nenhuma dúvida sobre o inspirado solo e adjacentes...

  • Anónimo

    ;-)

  • Anónimo

    O Caramelo está ocupado com o clube de fãs do Rui ...

  • Anónimo

    Vá, Caramelo.Da série “Grandes títulos da imprensa...

  • Anónimo

    Estás? Então foi amor à primeira vista, é que esta...

Links

WEEKLY DIGESTS

BLOGS

REVISTAS LITERÁRIAS [port]

REVISTAS LITERÁRIAS [estrangeiras]

GUITARRA

CULTURA

SERVIÇOS OURIQ

SÉRIES 2019-

IMPRENSA ALENTEJANA

JUDIARIA

Arquivo

    1. 2019
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2018
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2017
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2016
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2015
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2014
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2013
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2012
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2011
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2010
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2009
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D
    1. 2008
    2. J
    3. F
    4. M
    5. A
    6. M
    7. J
    8. J
    9. A
    10. S
    11. O
    12. N
    13. D