…or “US requests approval from the EU the presence of armed agents in transatlantic flights”

It is clear that the US is turning into — maybe it is already — a police state. By coercing the EU to accept new anti civil liberties regulations with the threat of visa requirements it seems to me that the US is only shooting itself on the foot. It is true that the unity of the EU has not proven to be mature yet, and the interests of the new EU members can play a big role in bilateral negotiations with the US. The new member states have not yet found their place on the European government and can fall short from understanding, or supporting bloc negotiations. They are not used to being big players in the grand scheme of things, and might see this as the opportunity to get some long awaited benefits from being in good terms with the US government.

On the other hand, the US is not in position right now to be cocky. Their economy does not resemble the American industrial machine of the past, and eight years of a diarrhea foreign policy has destroyed their image in the eyes of the world. Yet, again they make demands like a spoiled child, shouting aggressively and making threats.

Apparently airports are not enough. This government’s first priority has been to keep its population afraid. By putting heavily armed guards in the subway you will have succeded in anihilating by fear that inner city liberalism you so much despise.

Obligated by the recent resonance of coming back, or going back I cannot leave the matter unexamined. And, so, following the advice of some thinkers of the past, I attempt to take a miniature step into the carving of my own existence, trying not to commit an act of pedantic pseudo-academic regurgitation.

In a fine illustration of melancholy, installed carefully in Pedro Almodovar’s latest movie, and presented beautifully by Estrella Morente, the song named also with the term in question, reminded me of my incessant fights with the humanities teachers of my youth. Fights that turned into discussions when my teenage insolence was frowned upon. While smiling gently at the descriptive adjectives that then flew back and forth, I try to understand the cause for my utter despise for the utopia that this young teacher held most dear.

Time, distance, and specially emotional detachment have led me to realize that it was not their utopia what I despised, which was a rather noble dream. A more equal society, through the implementation of government sponsored social programs; and independence from abusive American influence, are neither unworthy of consideration, nor unattainable. Yet, the former me screamed, insulted at the mention of what it sounded like recycled communism in a place where a noteworthy revolutionary movement was never even started. While I defended an unswallowed conviction, I was awarded many titles, and I distributed even more myself. Though, I know now that it was the words in the speech what struck my teenage rebel with disgust.

How does a man so young and full of ideals, carries the heavy luggage of remembering events that did not come to pass. Why do we cling to nostalgia for the fantastic? Is this a masochistic sacrifice traded for security, or survival instinct? It seems like our culture has an open affair with the legends of the past. We revere it, we fear it, but mostly, we deeply miss it.

Recently we have heard a lot about how the George W. Bush administration uses scare tactics to bend the population’s opinion about the current issues, or take away the attention of the people from the real issues. I thought that the efficiency of those tactics where limited to Americans. Americans have a very limited view of the world outside the United States. Americans see their politicians with auras of leadership and power, and are less likely to challenge their assertions. American politicians are not required to defend their positions, partly because the media has failed to ask the right questions, and part because Americans are not interested. American politics can run smoothly because most Americans are apathetic toward their political state as long as they can read U.S. Weekly and watch Reality T.V. I do not mean to include all Americans in this group, as I know that not all of them are like this. However, it is a large enough group to guarantee the effectiveness of the fore mentioned methods.

My belief, however, was painfully challenged last weekend, during the elections for President of Ecuador. Particularly in the reactions of my most closely related individuals, after the announcement of the results of the first voting round. I saw in everybody frightened child unable to engage in any reasonable discussion, or even if — for a second — consider the possibility of being confused.

The election results came as everybody was expecting, with the two front runners on the top: Alvaro Noboa, and Rafael Correa. They will meet again on a run off for the Presidency on November 26th. Now, I am not the one to say who is right or not for the job, but I would like to have at least a discussion, without the element of fear. Fitted violently into people’s minds.

To such point has this fear been instilled in people’s minds that they are willing to elect a candidate that they voted against last elections, electing a bodyguard for president. This candidate was not educated to be a president, and had taken part of a recent failed coup. A candidate who they overthrew in just a few months. Ecuador was willing to elect Lucio Gutierrez as it’s president, before Alvaro Noboa. Why? Well, if I remember correctly, because he is the owner of the ‘Big Banana’ corporation, the biggest in the country. Big Banana which is known to use child labor and abuse human rights [USLEAP, HRW]. Big Banana, known to intimidate, and threaten small competitors and farmer’s unions [HRW]. Big Banana who is well known to be a heavy tax dodger.
How is it possible that suddenly, this evil monster turned to being the option for this election. That’s where the fun starts. The other candidate was labeled as communist… why? Because he is friends with the ‘honorable’ Hugo Chavez, President of Venezuela. It does not count that Rafael Correa is not only better educated than his adversary, but probably than any of the Presidents that Ecuador has had for the past 30 years, at institutions in the United States, and Belgium (not Cuba and China). It does not count the fact that he presents a clear plan, with clear objectives and methodologies. It does not count the fact that he is a well formed, well respected left thinker, in a country where social programs are of the utmost importance. It does not count that Rafael Correa has provided documents denying that neither his campaign nor programs are being founded by Hugo Chavez or the Government of Venezuela. No, it matters that he is a communist, because he speaks no evil of a sister nation. And people are scared shitless…

or Agoraphobia, for those of you who do not speak Spanish, and cannot easily translate such a complicated term, is the fear of being in open places. Outside. While I cannot imagine how it would be to be afraid of the outside, there is a deeper meaning that I can attach to this seemingly ridiculous fear, to which I can relate, intimately. I graduated from university just about a summer ago, and I have been traveling around and enjoying my life as an ‘unoccupied” (read unemployed) adult. The reason that I was enjoying it was that it is normal for a student to spend the summer scratching his umbilicus and drinking beer, at least that’s the way I did it, every summer, since I was 5 until this very last one. Yet, it’s now September and classes should have started. No classes for me, no schedule for me, still unemployed. I have the feeling I need to be following a calendar, that I have never seen.
I don’t know where to start, I moved to a new city where I have no contacts, no family, no “role-model”. I need to find a job, my resources are limited and will not stand for much longer. I need to start moving. I need to find something to do. Inactivity is killing me! I am a man with an empty resume, and a huge fear to be outside.