A period of heated agitation is followed by a period of dazed calm. We brag and brag, as if nothing had ever happened. The star burns us too hot, the storms rumble and calm down and everything seems to be as it should be. Of course, if we exclude the rise in temperature and its neuroses. But, in what, proverbially, concerns us the most, whether this country will be torn apart in all its widths and lengths, torn apart at the seams and cuts, that famous time of semi-stability in Bosnia and Herzegovina has come. Even a reasonable person does not know what is more difficult for him, the moments when it seems to everyone that our well-known sorting out of everything we have and don't have has just begun, or the days when once again it seems that something has been resolved. Of course, it was resolved just enough to keep the underground waters of political-criminal passions at bay until the opportune moment comes for the country to be moved by new torrents of turmoil. Until the broker's clocks ring again, those who see every shift of the global tectonic plates of neoliberal capitalism as an opportunity to get out the insidious weapons and tools of disuniting, killing and humiliating the remaining inhabitants of this country on the brink of existence.
And it has been like this for decades, we are being doused with the gasoline of ethno-national vampirism every now and then - collective fears and disturbances are being produced, social networks and the media are furious with the need to contribute to the situation with the bloodiest headlines and accompanying textual apparatuses to inflame the situation - so that in the end, like hot lead, instantly cooled by the same degenerate narratives about the European path and the commitment to make it better for all of us, of course. Unknown, anamo, someone closed the pressure cookers in their hissing, for the people, alas, worried brains, and now it's time for the uproar, as they say, to stop. It's like, after they delivered tons and tons of their media-propaganda sediment on our heads, they decided to sit down at the table, to come to an agreement, to stop the dismantling and disintegration of all meaning. And there was never any sense. In other words, we have been prisoners for several decades of a system that uses its sinister theater of nationalist mimicry as a screen behind which much more disastrous processes of borrowing, selling off and emptying the country take place. The fact that we, again and again, year after year, agree to have that poorly and kitschly directed show sold to us as an unprecedented spectacle, is a question of our common consent to survive in a society where neurosis and fear are constantly engineered.
As such, we are almost unable to see on the horizon any alternative to this disastrous state of affairs. We put our ostrich heads in the holes, we wait for it to pass, we get stressed, but we pretend not to see, that it doesn't concern us. With the strategies of collective social amnesia, we very quickly forget all the traps, all the pitfalls, all the holes dug in our path, all the things that are planted against us and with which we are scared, so that we again agree to their games of obedience without any responsibility. The consequences that remain on this society have been very visible for a long time, we are not able to design a point of common meeting around which a society would be built ready to accept the challenges that the future inexorably brings before us. Already now we are a cardboard backdrop that has warped in all directions, and tomorrow the wind of history can blow us away.
(oslobodjene.ba)
Bonus video:
