Out of this world

By the way, are we really still in this world? Haven’t our rulers forced us, endlessly, since the spring of 2020, to extract ourselves from it, to distance ourselves from it, to alienate ourselves from it, to act as if we could make the whole of life retreat, to preserve ourselves from it? Aren’t our pathetic « barrier gestures » a way of saying that we are stronger than the world, that we can live away from it? And by claiming that thanks to the vaccine, we will « defeat the virus », aren’t our leaders leading us into a posture of omnipotence that is as dangerous as it is vain and illusory? 

This posture, which leads us to think of ourselves as dominant, outside the living world, looking down on it, sure of being able to control it as if it were our toy and that we could make it turn at will around our little finger, this posture, far from working for our health, will work for our loss. 

So what kind of world do we want to live in? As long as we still have a little leeway, a little freedom of expression, a little choice, in the poor remnants of democracy we have left, what do we choose? Where is the essential in our eyes? Where is our priority? 

For me, it is quite clear that I do not want, at any price, to live in a world where television journalists present « information » with their faces masked, where scientific knowledge is set up as an infallible dogma, where culture is discredited, to the point of being abolished. I do not want, at any price, to live in a world where one can be worried for an opinion offence, where a handshake is a shameful gesture, an offence liable to a fine, where faces are veiled in the public space and where the absurd rubs shoulders with 

nonsense. I categorically refuse to live in a world where information has metamorphosed into propaganda, where censorship has become a commonplace practice, endorsed by the State, itself at the behest of the Internet giants, a world where obscurantism, repression and abuse of authority reign, a world where my health data are known, recorded, controlled and traced. 

I don’t want a world where health security is king, where, at the slightest viral alert, everyone has to stay at home and can only go shopping by compulsively hiding under a mask that serves no purpose. I don’t want a world under surveillance, I don’t want a world without contacts. I don’t want a world in a perpetual state of brain death, barely breathing, distressed, suffering, a real attack on life, the very antithesis of the living. 

I want a world of joy, a world that is nourished, alive, happy, creative, fertile. I want a world that moves, that embraces, that embraces and intertwines, that dashes forward, that regenerates, that never stops transforming and renewing itself. I want a world of construction, of alliance, of solidarity, of citizenship, of true freedom, where the problems that arise are tackled in an open and irrigated way, in the light of all available resources, in search of authentic solutions. I want a world that breathes, that smiles, that trusts. A world that sings and dances, a world of energy, vigor, strength. A world of perfumes, of intuitions that are expressed, of doors that open, of arms that open, of curtains that open, of laughter that bursts. 

No one has the right to take us away from this world. No one has the right to hinder us, to the point of extinguishing this world. It’s ours, it’s not perfect, it’s even full of flaws, but it’s vital to us. If we let it die out, we condemn ourselves to die out. 

For the last 15 months, our governments have been inflicting on us a health policy that is increasingly obvious as a failure. A policy that pretends to care about our health, while it keeps on harming it. Far from questioning its validity, they persist. Far from widening their field of vision, they prefer to keep their blinkers on. And the deleterious effects on the population continue to add up. Our world, which has become a prison, resembles a stagnant pond where the water is no longer renewed, no longer circulates, smells bad; a sad world, even desperate, sterile, boring to death. Isn’t that what we want? Let’s change our rulers. 

Corine Dehaes, philologist, teacher 

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