DMZ is a comic book that I discovered in my research for references for the NY Commune Project. It constitutes a quite literal precedent indeed. Written by Brian Wood and drawn by Riccardo Burchielli between 2005 and 2012, it introduces the United States in a second civil war that opposes the “loyalist” states to the “free states” which declared secession from the rest of the country. The particularity of the plot which gives its title to the series can be found in the status of Manhattan within this story: a demilitarized zone (DMZ) between the two camps leaving its 400,000 inhabitants to a state of anarchy in which each has to find strategies of survival. The main character of the comic is Matthew Roth, a young journalist who find himself “lost” in this war zone and discovers the cogs of the city’s organization.
The scenario is close from the one developed in John Carpenter’s film Escape from New York which will probably be the subject of a forthcoming article, but at the difference of the latter, it tries to describe episode after episode how such a society, however violent it is, can actually holds together (one of the episode is even built around an election in Manhattan). It also presents the very interesting conditions of a city under siege whose rhythm of ceasefire and heavy attacks authorizes or not a certain form of daily life. One can think of Sarajevo between 1992 and 1995 as a reference for it (Governor Island is called “Sniper Heaven” in a probable reference to “sniper alley”) but also Gaza and its supposedly “surgical” air raids. The checkpoints at each access to the island, tunnels and bridges, help us to think of it that way.
The series is composed of 72 episodes. Such extensive narrative allows its authors to develop a piece of scenario for each district or building with their own each “psychogeography”. See a few excerpts below:
Beginning of the transcript…
It all started two weeks before the declaration of the Commune. Thousands of us invaded the incomplete structures of the World Trade Center in downtown Manhattan. We took action when most of us were getting evicted from our homes after the rents doubled in the last few years. The occupation started as a form of protest, but quickly evolved towards a real alternative-society model. We set up camps on the hundreds of slabs of the towers and started to live in them in a new form of urban living. Multitudes of hoists were insuring the vertical communication of food, essential goods and reclaimed construction material from the ground.
The first time that the NYPD attempted to take back control of the site, we were disorganized and managed to make them retreat only after having outnumbered them. When they came back a few days later, our defensive strategy was more responsive, and the hundreds of policemen did not even succeed in entering the site. Every day we were gathering in small assemblies to debate and construct the particulars of our small society. Many people were exhausted and discussions could quickly become harsh and long, but only a limited number of people left the movement during the occupation.
One night, after a bit less than two months of common life in the towers, we were suddenly awakened by the loud noise of a flock of helicopters that quickly invaded our space with their powerful spotlights. While Special Forces were landing on the roofs, hundreds of police officers in full riot gear were climbing up the structures, arresting all the people they encountered. The surprise of the attack led to a general panic that reached a dangerous level on some overcrowded floors. It was only after few hours of systematized and serial arrests, when the towers were almost emptied, that the event that would make history occurred. Even today, it remains unclear what really happened. A small number of us were still on the ground, ready to be brought away in the MTA buses requisitioned by the NYPD, when we heard a terrifying scream and made out in the darkness of the dawn the fall of a frail body from one of the highest floors of the main tower. Whether it was a suicide, an accident, or a murder was irrelevant to us. What we knew is that this tragic event would have never occurred without the police’s armed attack. Our rage was growing on the way to Rikers Island, where the thousand of us who had gotten arrested were eventually corralled in the central courtyard.
François Schuiten and Benoît Peeters, La fièvre d’Urbicande, Casterman, 1985.
First of all, I would like to apologize for the lack of consistence in the rhythm of the recent publication of articles. Keeping a regular rhythm is difficult and I am hoping to be back to it in the few coming weeks.
Today’s article is about a classic Belgian graphic novel: La fièvre d’Urbicande (Urbicande’s fever. 1985) by François Schuiten and Benoît Peeters. Urbicande is the name of the city in which the story occurs. One day a small cube made out of a mysterious material grows and form a three dimensional grid that the city soon calls “The Network.” The latter soon reaches a size which implements many bridges between the two parts of the city that were segregated from each other. Taking advantage of the megastructure it embodies, urbicande’s citizens appropriate the network and build various architectures that diversifies the urban programs (promenades, agriculture, brothels etc.) and the way they register spatially. The megastructure exists as a relatively neutral object, which can be eventually invested by a variety of architectural languages.
As a small anecdote, François Schuiten told me few years ago that B.Peeters and him heard about the invention of the internet few months after the publication of the graphic novel, and they were stunned of such a striking similitude with the narrative they created.
Excerpt from Le Processus by Marc-Antoine Mathieu (Delcourt 1993)
Following the three last articles in which I was preparing my reference texts in addition of those that I have been already writing in the past, this following article is an attempt to reconstitute the small presentation I was kindly invited to give by Carla Leitão for her seminar about libraries and archives at Pratt Institute. This talk was trying to elaborate a small theory of the book as a subversive artifact based on six literary authors that have in common a dramatization of their own medium, the book, within their books. The predicate of this essay lies in the fact that books are indeed subversive -and therefore suppressed by authoritarian power- as they reveal the existence of other worlds.
(1) Excerpt from Le Processus by Marc-Antoine Mathieu (Delcourt 1993)
This article is the last one in order to list and archive my references for the talk I gave this morning about the book as an object (see the recent posts about Borges and Bradbury). Once again, the universe(s) invented and drawn by Marc-Antoine Mathieu in his graphic novels fascinate me enough to write another article about them. This time, two stories, La 2,333e dimension (The 2.333th dimension) and Le Processus (The Process) that I will introduce more in detail in this next article. Until then, the following images are few of the beautiful/amazing/amusing/interesting/evocative frames that can be found in those two books. Once again, I feel sorry that only one of them has been translated in English and in German. I translated the ones presented here.
See the other links about Marc-Antoine Mathieu’s graphic novels:
- Mémoire morte (Dead Memory) (Delcourt 2000)
- La Qu… (Delcourt 1991)
- L’Origine (Delcourt 1990)
Note that L’Origine, La Qu…, Le Processus, La 2,333e Dimension as well as Le Debut de la Fin are all part of the series Julius Corentin Acquefacques, prisonnier des rêves (Julius Corentin Acquefacques, prisoner of dreams)
Excerpt from Bilal, Enki. 32 Décembre. Paris: Les Humanoïdes Associés, 2002.
- And that, what is it? What are we walking on?
- Canvas. White canvas… The walls and the ceiling are covered with it
- It’s very nice
- Nike, I would like to introduce you to my friend Milorad Zivokovic
The Beast Trilogy (The Dormant Beast, December 32nd & Rendezvous in Paris), graphic novels written and drawn by Enki Bilal introduce a charismatic character in the person of Optus Warhole who claims to be the inventor of the Art Brutal. This terminology resonates with the notion of Art Brut in French (Outsider Art in English but obviously the resonance is lost here) invented by Jean Dubuffet in 1945. The three pieces presented in this trilogy by the Andy Warhol’s quasi-homonym, are indeed brutal as they celebrate the creativity of destruction. Such artistic paradox reminds us of the book On Murder Considered as one of the Fine Arts written by Thomas de Quincey in 1827 or more recently of the remarkable character of the Joker in Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight in 2008 (see previous article).
The three pieces I was evoking above can be described as followed. The first one consists in an entire apartment covered with white canvas and in which few dozen of people dressed all in white wildly massacre each others thus providing the paint of the piece by the red of the blood spurting all around. The second one materializes in the form of a sort of acid rain cloud, drifting with the wind, and whose drops pierce any matter encountered . Eventually, the third one consists in another cloud composed by millions of red flies which dissolve the building that they originates from. The implosion of the latter is said to have provoked a brutal sound rupture, a sort of anti-vibration that absorb all sounds and creates multiple auditory injuries. ‘You are mad‘ says Nike Hatzfeld to Optus Warhole in December 32nd. ‘No, I am an artist‘ he answers.
Der Golem, wie er in die Welt kam by Carl Boese & Paul Wegener (1920)
A short article today, in order to link four narratives (coming from science fiction or not) which shares a common link in which they express the power of the word or/and the sound.
The first one is the myth of the Golem (which much later inspired Mary Shelley to write her Frankenstein), this creature who, from a model of clay became alive when his creator, Rabbi Loew inscribed the word Emet (reality in Hebrew) on his face. When later, the Golem went berserk, Loew simply erased the first letter of the word and thus killed him (Met means death). This episode is illustrative of the Kaballah, this branch of Judaism that dedicates all its efforts to the research of God through the esoteric holy scriptures and their mathematics.
Teaser poster for Michel Gondry’s upcoming adaptation of Ubik (Heath Killen)
In an obsessive sense of categorization, one might divide science fiction in few types. The machinist fascination would be tutored by Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, the epic interstellar narratives as well as the speculative robotic would be lead by Isaac Asimov, the descriptions of what could not be possibly described (!) would follow the work of Stanislaw Lem…etc. finally the co-existence of overlapping worlds and the entropy that those worlds are subjecting to would recognize the paternity of Philip K. Dick.
P.K. Dick’s novels and short stories have indeed this common link; they dramatizes the absolute uncertainty of the main characters for their identity as well as the tangibility of the world that surrounds them.
L’Origine by Marc-Antoine Mathieu (Delcourt, 1991)
This article is the first one of a short series I will do about the worlds dramatized by science fiction which gives me the opportunity to create a new category ‘science fiction‘ on the blog which already counts 42 articles.
To describe those worlds, we can use the notion of dystopia, thus following Liam Young’s example, but what is important to consider with these future situations that appear to us as horrible is that they only consist in the exacerbation of the present ones. In other words, the present as we experience it could probably be described in a narrative read in a ‘better world’ (following Philip K. Dick’s belief for the existence of other worlds) and appear as particularly horrible.
The first chapter of this series will explore four worlds dramatizing over-populated cities which offers a new look at the way we inhabit our urban environment. Those four worlds are depicted in the two short stories, The Concentration City and Billennium by James Graham Ballard, in the graphic novel L’Origine by Marc-Antoine Mathieu and in the film Soylent Green directed by Richard Felischer.
Factory Fifteen (see previous post) just released their new film that they shot during Liam Young and Kate Davies’ Unknown Fields 2011 in Chernobyl (Ukraine) and Baikonur (Kazakhstan). Gamma is a sort of short pseudo documentary depicting a future in which numerous zones of the earth needs to be deradiated after a decade of nuclear war. As always in a capitalist world, this kind of public health operations are achived by private actors, here a company called Gamma which developed a type of roots that would absorb radioactivity. The film introduces the testimony of a survivor who describes how, very quickly, this root became autonomous and out of control, invading little by little his city.
The witness’ testimony talks about war machines to describe the vessels sent by Gamma, thus assimilating their action on the city as a sort of military invasion. In 1985, Ronald Reagan was claiming that the nine most terrifying words of the English language were ‘I’m from the government and I’m here to help‘, we might want to paraphrase his claim against him saying that the most terrifying words are ‘I’m from a company and I’m here to help‘. The Fukushima experience clearly showed how private interests mixed with political corruption were leading to this kind of catastrophes.
GAMMA from Factory Fifteen on Vimeo.
You can watch the making-of video by following this link.
Future Ruins by Michelle Lord (inspired by JGB)
While cleaning-up my digital archives yesterday I “ran into” a letter I wrote to James Graham Ballard two and half years ago, then (shamelessly) hoping to start an epistolary exchange with him. What I did not know when I sent this letter to him on April 14th 2009 was that he was going to die five days later! This letter probably never reached him… Although I am clearly embarrassed by some parts of this text, I wanted to share it here in an unedited version (my written English was even worse than now back then!):
Bombay on Tuesday 14th April 2009
Dear Mr Ballard,
I have some difficulties to find my words for you, facing the fact that yours already reached me long time ago, allowing me to discover imaginaries which helps me to comprehend the real’s complexity. Therefore, I would like to help me by quoting somebody you might know, Emil Cioran in his Histoire et Utopie. In fact, Cioran has a way to consider the world in its whole ambiguity, that is why it seems expedient to quote him in order to penetrate into the topic I am interested in:
I have been recently commissioned to write a short article for the first issue of Studio Magazine entitled [from] CRISIS [to] and I was happy to write the text that follows this introduction. This issue exists in its digital version, but also very soon as a hard copy in Milan where RRC Studio, the editors are practicing architecture. They came up with an interesting mix of mediums between essays, reportages, fictions, photos, architectural projects etc. with a very good graphic design. I therefore recommend to explore this issue either via issuu or by downloading the pdf version.
Tower Of Joy, Ulan Bator, April 1992
By Léopold Lambert
A few months after my friend and mentor Theodore Antonopoulos had passed away, his wife suggested that I organize his archives that had grown to consume the entire building of their home in New York. This “assignment” came to overwhelm me, as I was discovering a multitude of previously unknown books and references that seemed to have influenced Theo’s work considerably. I decided, then, that I would dedicate all of my efforts to exploring what made his films and novels so powerful.
At the end of my fifth day spent in the chaos of his archives, I realized that, so far, I had only succeeded in making the hundreds of documents, books and films of the house more disorganized. As I stood dumbfounded by this observation, my eyes encountered some text written on a VHS that was partly submerged in a pile of films covering most of the room’s floor. The caption was reading “Tower Of Joy, Ulan Bator, April 1992”. The fact that Theo shot a movie in Mongolia did not come as much of a surprise as I often reflected that he may have visited every country in the world; nevertheless, this title, “Tower of Joy,” piqued my interest enough that I stole it away to watch later.
I already wrote a more developed article about the 29 minute masterpiece, La Jetée, less than a year ago; nevertheless, I wanted to point out the existence of a very beautiful book that proposes an alternate (or complementary) mean of exploring the powerful universe created by Chris Marker. This book is designed by Bruce Mau, edited by the very valuable Zone Books (see previous articles about The Power of Inclusive Exclusion and Rituals of War) and distributed by the MIT Press.
Since La Jetée is a film composed exclusively (almost !) of photographs and an off voice reading the narrative, not only it fits perfectly with this format of a book that Chris Marker decided to call a Ciné-Roman (roman in French means novel), but the pages allows to associate several photographs together (see above) that compose another way to read images that constitute the movie.
The following link is Zone Book’s page about this book.
picture: first surveillance drone experimentation in JFK Airport (August 2011)
Since the Technological Security Act of 2012, drones are everywhere. Their implementation in the public space was fairly easy as most people were amazed by this multitude of flying objects that was intelligently avoiding them. With time, they barely saw them anymore and only tourists and children were still paying attention to those silent flying machines.
The first ones implemented were strictly dedicated to surveillance as the Congress fermly stipulated in order not to worry the population. However, the riots in November 2012 in Detroit followed by what is now known as the Brooklyn insurrection in April 2013 pushed the legislative power to elaborate and vote the Civil Peace Preservation Act that saw a whole new arsenal of various drones to appear in public space. The anti-riots one, for example were distributed in two categories: dissuasive and lethal. That is how we just assisted to the largely documented debate around the recent death of Melvin Jones in New Orleans, apparently killed by mistake by a lethal class Drone Epsilon. Nevertheless, as proven during the trial that opposed Jones’ family and the Louisiana State, the very concept of mistake is inapplicable to a machine and thus cannot be claimed as the object of a judiciary procedure.
This embarrassing story cannot hide the reality: Drones are here and they are now indivisible from our security strategy. The debate around them mostly concerns their field of action and only few radical activists are still advocating for their absolute withdrawal from the public space. Among them, Professor Carolyn Youn even argues that it might even be too late as drones already gathered enough artificial intelligence in order to revolt against their creators if the latter would attempt to restrain them…
Caroll Herman. The New York Times : December 04th 2016
First of all, I would like to say that this article is not an indictment against the three “new” episodes (I, II & III) of Star Wars; on the contrary of a lot of people, I think that those films brings something extremely interesting to the saga, which is the retroactive construction of a myth (I still remember my shiver in theater at the end of the Episode III, when we observe the birth of Dark Vador) which managed intelligently to introduce how the Jedi went from faithful servants of a democratic Republic to rebels to the same regime when it turned into a permanent autocratic State of Emergency.
However, one thing that I find incredibly superb in the three first episodes (IV, V & VI) and that makes all the difference between the episode from the 70-80′s and those from the 2000′s: the ground.
In fact, the original Star Wars was shot in several places in the world which gives a very various and rich landscapes to express several planet’s specificity. On the contrary, the new series of films principally used semi or full computer generated landscapes (except for some scenes in Naboo where we can recognize Seville or Como). It is important to precise here that my argument is nothing in favor of “realism” or credibility of the movie. It is almost the opposite actually, George Lucas in the 70′s was not necessarily disposing of the same techniques than he has now, and some shots of the original films are charming by their clumsy attempt to set characters and aircraft in a landscape that is clearly dissociated from them…
What really makes this difference is what I would call gravity but that could maybe be named in another way. What I mean by that is the fact that bodies are attracted to the center of the earth (and presumably in Star Wars to the center of any planet) and therefore have a weight that provoke their contact with the ground. This contact always have a material repercussion, some dust is lifted, some snow is squashed, some branches on the ground crack (in the Episode VI, Han Solo is even betrayed by one of them) etc. The three new episodes also have those noises, of course, but for some reason, the viewer don’t buy it, gravity is not transcribed in the right way. When in the old movies, one can hear the infinitely small noise of a worm or of snow melting in contact with human heat, what one can hear in the new movies, is the simple, precise and cold sound of a noise reproduced in studio.
The third chapter of this guest writers essays series comes from a regular of The Funambulist, Martin Byrne (see previous articles 1, 2, 3 & 4 or see below the essay) whose projects always take their essence from the notions of decay, dirt and human emancipation. In the following essay, he explores the neologisms of kipple and gubble invented by Philip K. Dick in his literary work.
Transcendent Delusion or;
The Dangerous Free Spaces of Phillip K. Dick
by Martin Byrne
(Solo queda / el desierto.)
You find yourself walking through a long dusty corridor in a dank building sometime in the late afternoon. The doors to nearly every room have long since fallen in, letting pale shafts of light mingle with dust and paper; assorted debris whirls about in lazy semi-circles as you pass quietly by. There are no lights apart from the fading sun; there is no sound except for the slow pacing of your own feet, and the idle mixed thoughts that bounce from left to right in your head. The farther you walk down the corridor, the more overwhelming your sense of isolation becomes. Through each doorway you see rooms that have been long forgotten, weeds sprouting from moldy ephemera in the foreground, and a long view out of the broken floor to ceiling windows beyond. Each frame you pass in steady syncopation offers a glimpse of what seems to be an encroaching desert. Shifting piles of dust cover in fits and starts the remains of a world that you never found all that familiar.
How do you feel?
picture: The Battersea Experiment by Dan Tassell
Factory Fifteen is a new video artists/architects collective that can be recognized as the children of Nic Clear as the professor of the Unit 15 at the Bartlett seemed to have generated the passion for this group of the students to make of the architectural video, the main medium of their creation.
Blogs like Dpr-Barcelona, Deconcrete, BLDG BLOG and also The Funambulist itself recently published some of their individual projects but they now formed a collective and are releasing a very interesting film entitled Robots of Brixton. In fact, when the films released within the frame of Unit 15, as aesthetically stunning as they are (see all the pictures on this blog), were remaining videos rather than cinematographic work per say, this last film really attempts to create a narrative and to use the moving pictures not anymore as a sort of painting but rather as a medium that confronts what cinema is about.
Robots of Brixton is a science fictive film that reproduces as a farce what used to be the tragedy of the 1981 Brixton riots in London severely suppress by the London Police.
Factory Fifteen is Jonathan Gales, Paul Nicholls, Dan Tassell, Kibwe Tavares, Chris Lees, Rich Young
See all their films on their common website.
Other articles about the Unit 15 at the Bartlett:
- Royal Cabinets/Re-Formation by Paul Nicholls
- Eco Commune by Richard Hardy (Weareom)
- Synaptic Landscape by Dan Farmer
- Nic Clear’s Bartlett Unit 15. Interview with Ballardian
- MANIFESTO /// Nic Clear
picture extracted from V for Vendetta by Alan Moore (Vertigo)
The subject of this article, science-fiction as an inventor of dilemmas is directly inspired by the reading of a very interesting book written by Peter Y. Paik, associate professor of comparative literature at the University of Wisconsin and published by the University of Minnesota Press. Its title, From Utopia to Apocalypse: Science-Fiction and the Politics of Catastrophe reveals a bit too much in my opinion the author’s tone all along the book. Indeed, P. Paik’s thesis can be summarized by a strong doubt for any sort of complete, total and absolute ideology of any kind. This assumed skepticism is for me a little disturbing when the object of the book is so brilliantly pointed out. Science Fiction proposes in fact dilemmas that should not be considered as less problematic and important than the ones that were introduced by the Greek Mythology. One could even argue that those dilemmas are even more crucial than the antic ones. In fact, when the Greeks were introducing problems concerning nation and family (Antigona, Orestes…), the dilemmas proposed by certain pieces of science fiction involve humanity in its essence. In fact, the XXth century would have invented the administrative murder and this way, managed to make responsibility unavoidable. If there is one thing to keep from the work of Hannah Arendt, it might be that Nazism has been only possible because of the participation -or the no refusal- of every single cog of the administration which was implementing it.
In order to introduce such problems, P.Paik has chosen five literary and cinematographic works that belong to the realm of what is commonly called science-fiction:
- Watchmen by Alan Moore & Dave Gibbons (1987)
- Save the Green Planet by Jang Joon-Hwan (2003) (which I did not see)
- Nausicaa of the Valley of Wind by Hayao Miyazaki (1982)
- The Matrix by Andi & Lana Wachowski (1999)
- V for Vendetta by Alan Moore (1982-1989)
Serge Brussolo is a French science-fiction writer whose masterpieces has been mainly written in the 1980′s. As far as I know he has never been translated into English and although I already tackled this topic at the very beginning of this blog’s life I am willing to evoke it again and give a short translation of my own of some excerpts of the short story Aussi Lourd que le Vent (As Heavy as the Wind).
Written in 1981, this story narrates the invention of a new form of art (and by deviation of architecture) that introduces voice’s frequencies as a mean of materialization of evanescent porcelain volumes. S. Brussolo actually iven implies even a sort of counter-Kaballah as the words screamed by the artist which seem to produce the most beautiful pieces are insults from whichever language they come from.
Once their time is up, those porcelain volumes release the sound that generated them just as if their materiality was strictly composed by sound itself that could transform itself from waves to solid and back to waves again.
At the end of the narrative, a venal patron manages to make the volume permanent and sell it to the building industry that produce entire buildings in this unbreakable porcelain.
With this story, S.Brussolo invented a new way of creating architecture: a declamatory design that requires the architect to recite or improvise a composition of sounds and words that materialize into porcelain. It also celebrate the creation of architecture as a ceremony that, once again, owns something from the Kaballah, a religious power attributed to the words. Here, the Golem is not activated by the word of God but rather by insults in what I would interpret as a beautiful homage to Antonin Artaud.
Raja Shehadeh is a Palestinian lawyer who lives in Ramallah and has been working all his carrier on issues of Palestinian land expropriated by the Israeli colonizing power. I met him in July 2010 in Ramallah for an interview about the practice of law as a resistance against the Israeli occupation of the West Bank and East Jerusalem. Back then, his book Palestinian Walks had just been translated and published in France by my friends of Galaade and his book A Rift In Time: Travels With My Ottoman Uncle was being released at Profile Books. He now publishes (only in French, as much as I know) a new short beautiful book, 2037 Le Grand Bouleversement under the form of a fictitious manifesto. Galaade, indeed, regularly releases short manifesto books that I have been calling instant publishing in another article and Raja’s one also follows this typology.
2037 is divided in two parts. The first one is another version of history than the one we usually receive in the Western world. Of course, it does not deny at all the suffering time that the Jewish people had to go through, reaching the ultimate horror with the Holocaust. However, it tells the story of the Palestinians from the beginning of the 20th century who lost little by little the power of their country to eventually have their land occupied by a foreign army.
The second part of the book is the essence of it and gave its name to it. 2037 is in fact the year in which occur the scene described by Raja in his book. Le Grand Bouleversement (The Great Upheaval) stands actually for an fictitious earthquake that would have triggered a nuclear accident, reestablishing a solidarity between Arab Countries, Palestinians and Israelis. The scene occurs in 2037 when radiations have decreased enough to allow the Middle East to work in a similar way than the European Union is currently working. R. Shehadeh evokes trains between Istanbul, Damas, Jerusalem and Jericho that function every 30 minutes, some Israelis and Palestinians gathering as friends and cultural and sports events occurring in a new land liberated from barbel wires and other border apparatuses.
Nevertheless, Raja is not establishing here a naive dream of a world uniting in a new form of the “end of history” and he makes sure to draw the reader attention to new issues that could occur in such a new world, i.e. a paradoxical religious antagonism against anything that has to do with religion, to a point that fanaticism does not seem so far and appear as redundant and inevitable in human history. But by tackling those new issues, he succeeds to makes us forget that the future world he describes is actually very far from the current situation.
As he points out in the first part, the economical and political class of the Israeli State depends so much on the apartheid establishment against Palestinians, it seems more likely to imagine a Deus Ex Machina provoking an earthquake rather than a sudden just pulse from the International Community and even less from Israel itself.
What’s left to hope nowadays when the Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu receive two dozens of standing ovations in the American Congress who knows as much about Palestine than about the conditions of life of a population of its own country. that cannot grant access to a decent health insurance? Hope is a lure in the passivity it implies. Only resistance in its various forms and in its activity can save us from falling.