I come from 2023. And I bring good news!

Yesterday I received tens of thousands (no exaggeration! no exaggeration? exaggeration) of messages from people asking where my post-election chronicle was. Hey there. But first, let me tell you what happened to me on Sunday, in the exact minute and second that Lula overtook Bolsonaro in the TSE count. Or maybe it was much later, but that’s what makes it cooler.

I got into Uber and immediately asked what the driver thought of the election results. He said he thought it was great, excellent, extraordinary, magnificent. “Do you think all this because you believe in a victory for Lula or Bolsonaro in the second round?”, I asked. He replied that neither one nor the other. “For this!” he said. Suddenly the falling apart Palio (I think it was a Palio) was enveloped in rays of a bluish hue, and for some reason, through the sparks I could hear Huey Lewis singing “The Power of Love”.

“There, we are here”, said the driver. Logically, I concluded that I had fallen asleep and dreamed I was Marty McFly. About to turn 45 years old?! How pathetic, I know. I got out of the car looking forward to getting home, showering, and getting into bed. But besides being pathetic, I recognize that I am a child of my time and I confess to being addicted to information. So, still on the sidewalk, I took my cell phone out of my pocket and.

And what I saw on the little device was wonderful. Or, to use the driver’s words, great, excellent, extraordinary and magnificent. On the website of Gazeta do Povo, I have just seen that the Brazilian Senate, with the presence of General Mourão, Tereza Cristina, Damares Alves, Marcos Pontes and even Sérgio Moro, has just authorize the opening of an impeachment process against a minister of the Federal Supreme Court. Did I say “one”? I lie. There are not nine cases because one of the ministers, anticipating compulsory retirement, cleverly abdicated the throne, I mean, position.

And there’s more: planted there on the sidewalk, with his eyes fixed on his cell phone, I discovered (still on the website of Gazeta do Povo, of course) that the conservative base in the Chamber, in agreement with the center, decided to legislate and will vote in the coming days for a PEC or a PL or an MP – I don’t know what kind of instrument this is! – preventing the Federal Supreme Court from legislating and considering null and void decisions such as the one that equated homophobia with the crime of racism. Oh, did I mention that a surprising articulation by Deltan Dallagnol managed to approve the PEC of the Second Instance? Well.

From far away and very quietly I can already hear the limp voice of someone who frowns and arches an eyebrow to ask me if I can prove that I was really in 2023. I can and I can’t. I mean, Uber TM™ time travel is completely safe and reliable, but here at 2023, it’s still not auditable. You’ll have to trust me.

Yes, I know you’re crazy for me to say who presides over Brazil here in 2023. But in this case, I’m in debt. Because just as I was about to find out who the president of Brazil was, I felt the driver’s hand on my shoulder. “Your five minutes into the future is over!” he said. Without me having time to react, with a sudden movement he took the cell phone from my hands and, taking advantage of my weakness, threw me into the car.

I saw blue rays around the Palio. At least I think it was a Pallium. I don’t know anything about cars. I heard “The Power of Love” again. Again I felt like a pathetic bald, pot-bellied, All-Star teenager. And once again I found myself at the gate of my house and with the sensation of having slept. I said goodbye to the driver without saying anything so as not to look crazy. I took a shower, threw myself on the bed and started taking notes for a first post-election chronicle. It is.

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