Sparrows

It is no coincidence that "dead birds fall from the sky" is a mandatory ornament of every apocalyptic narrative. After this week's Podgorica storm, hundreds of dead sparrows covered the paths through Blok. A gruesome and deeply disturbing sight - I wished the medical mask covered the eyes as well.

I remembered a (very) old poem by Sidran, which I read on the front page of Zagreb's Oko. The song was written on the occasion of Tito's death, and was published on the same page as the later famous song by Ace Sekulić, with the same main character, "To majka no longer gives birth". In the poem, Sidranov Broz, on one of his famous trips, refuses to eat sparrows, because they are "bird proletarians". Proletarians were also killed this time, in Podgorica.

One of the craziest episodes from the history of Chinese communism is related to sparrows: during the so-called In a great leap forward, Mao announced that sparrows were pests and launched a sparrow extermination campaign. He thought that since sparrows eat grain, if there were none, there would be more for the people. And he was grossly mistaken. Things in nature are never as simple as in the heads of dictators. Without sparrows, grasshoppers and insects multiplied and caused several hungry years, until someone realized that sparrows are actually extremely useful. When ignorance and insane ambition combine, the result can be truly hellish.

Along with the dead birds in Podgorica, we also had the Beirut explosion as part of a similar, "apocalyptic" story: a part of the port and the city simply flew into the air thanks to some explosive left there by a certain failed Russian businessman. Many such people had jobs in Montenegro as well: well, Bar overtook...

Despite the apocalyptic tones from all sides, the "show goes on" here. Election campaigns are usually a festival of promises. And it's like that everywhere. What is additionally interesting here is that the promise-givers, as well as those who listen to them, know that there is nothing to be gained from it, that is, that it is an empty story. Politicians pretend to believe what they say, and citizens pretend to believe what they hear. And everyone knows that it is all together, a naked fart, to use a dangerous word these days. It can't be good. The discourse of promise carries a constructional challenge: you have to exude optimist, the (saving) spirit of doubt and any form of skepticism can only get in the way. Who would believe a politician who doubts what he says. Yet it is (to doubt) the privilege of thinking beings. Nobody would give a politician who looks like a sage even two minutes of attention. Can you imagine Wittgenstein or Foucault promising anything to the masses.

A friend boasted to me that he found a way to follow the election campaign so that he keeps laughing... I thought he was crazy, but his explanation was still more interesting. "I started to discreetly change the words I hear in the media. Some say that they have been persistent for thirty years, and I hear, quite logically, after all, that they have been tired for thirty years... And things immediately seem more fun. They say they are consistent, and I want to hear that they are the last. Whenever I hear a tradition, I turn it into a tradition, and it's immediately somehow more accurate. As soon as I hear that she is eternal, I turn it into that she is happy. If she wants to be eternal, she must also be happy. Many people don't want to understand that part of the equation. Finally, an election campaign is fun for me."

Functionalizing the energy of mistakes - the way to a truer view of things. Maybe that's not a bad way to get through the current corona campaign. The August fervor does not exactly seem like an ideal environment for increased activism, but part of the opposition has revived because it hasn't seemed like the government is in bigger problems than it is today. However, even such a situation does not make the defeat of the current government any more certain.

That defeat would have an apocalyptic note for a large part of the state apparatus.

Americans wonder if Trump will hand over power if he loses. And what do Montenegrins wonder? Or they know all the answers. Like sparrows from that proverb.

You will have a break from your columnist for the next two Saturdays. The next issue of Art, after a (deserved) break, will be published on August 29.