I’m a little off. I don’t even feel my feet on the ground. I look and see nothing. All I can think of is a paragraph from a book that, I’m beginning to suspect now, I shouldn’t have read, let alone reread. I won’t quote the title of the book because I’m tired of repeating myself. And also to force him to consult the chronicles of the last three months. But I will quote, yes, the paragraph that is simply destructive. Hold on:
“The collectivism on which the world dies, and on which the new adventurers live, is the theory of gathering without unity; it is the attempt to find meaning in the crowd, since it is not possible to discover the meaning of each one; it is the conspiracy of those who ignore each other; the union of those who isolate themselves; the established sociability of misunderstandings; the geometric locus of mistakes”.
Wow. A thousand times wow. I read this. I lie down. I stare at the ceiling for a few minutes. I almost die, but then I remember that I am very much alive in a world where “the sociability of misunderstandings” is the purest reality. There’s not much I can do about it, other than reproducing the excerpt, in the hope that it will enlighten some reader in the same way it enlightened me. But, you see, that’s not even what I wanted to talk about today. The topic of the column is, in fact, the CPI da Educação.
There are people there in Brasília rubbing their hands like a James Bond villain (you won’t believe it, but I just wrote it
Super Bond), because the CPI is an opportunity to have the spotlight on you in an election year. There are people exulting like a paquita when Xuxa descended from the ship, because “finally the politicians are showing concern for Brazilian education”. And there are people, many people, who are sad – simply because we are experiencing a pandemic of unhappiness.
If I were to put myself in one of those groups, I would say that on the one hand I am sad (because of the paragraph reproduced above) , but on the other hand, I am very happy with the opportunity to see investigated some of the greatest mysteries involving education in this Brasilsão de Meudeus.
I can’t wait, for example, to see the president’s primary teachers summoned of the Senate, Rodrigo Pacheco. I take the opportunity to say that I have never seen anyone as Pacheco as Pacheco. He looks like a pacheco, dresses like a pacheco, thinks like a pacheco, acts like a pacheco, walks like a pacheco – and on top of that he has Pacheco in his name. I don’t know who said that name is destiny. I disagree in general, but hard to disagree in the specific case of Rodrigo, Pacheco.
Before entering the elevator
The CPI on Education is also an opportunity for us to clean up this absurd story of Orthographic Agreement. After all, who do I have to pay a bribe to get the umlaut back? Who could have been the idiot who didn’t foresee that the fall of the differential accent would create bizarre things like the man who stops to think? And, since we are talking about the mistreated language of the future academic and immortal Larissa de Macedo Machado, it is not a bad idea to investigate who committed the very serious crime of writing the warning “before entering the elevator, make sure it is on the floor” – probably the worst sentence in the history of Brazilian bureaucratic literature. And there’s a lot of competition.
But, not to say that I didn’t mention fractals, let me mention here also important issues on which the senators will certainly finally shed some light. First, how many decimal places does pi have? Then why do I, a journalist, still know the Bhaskara Formula by heart? And once and for all: how do you do division with two numbers in the key?
Other crimes against education that must be investigated with all the rigor and cunning of our noble parliamentarians are why Leonardo stuck it up his nose and then ate all the crayons from Pre II, why the students of Madalena Sofia school in the decade of 1980 couldn’t walk with their coat on waist and the one that is the biggest mystery plaguing the country’s classrooms: who has the yellow hand? And, since the senators will have their hands on the modeling clay, it is also worth investigating who invented this story that Paulo Freire is a genius and mesoclisis is chic.
Xi, stop (with a differential accent because I can) everything! I was told here (proclisis also because I can) that it is nothing like that and that the CPI of Education is actually called CPI do MEC and will investigate the sale of a car for R$ thousand reais from daughter of a minister to daughter of a pastor and why former minister Milton Ribeiro kept that ridiculous little mustache, among other things of dubious relevance.
What a disappointment. In this way, Brazil throws in the trash a golden opportunity, or rather, of niobium to investigate not only why the “m” has the privilege of preceding the “p” and the “b”, but above all because only a minority of literate people can associate the creation of this depressing circus show (those circuses from the periphery, you know?) with the excerpt from “Lessons from Abismo” reproduced above.