Não bastassem os argumentos levantados nos artigos anteriores sobre o conservadorismo, que ao contemplarem a importância da conservação do conhecimento, contemplam necessariamente a natureza histórica dessa conservação, acho interessante comentar especificamente a importância dessa natureza histórica da conservação do conhecimento para a evolução do homem.
O que é o conhecimento senão a projeção (passiva e ativa) do que nos chega por um dos cinco sentidos em um contexto histórico de formas e conteúdos que se encontra em nossa mente? Fisiologicamente vemos o mesmo que um recém nascido, mas intelectualmente vemos muito mais. A conservação do conteúdo é essencial para a intelecção. A eliminação do conteúdo conservado transforma o contexto mental antes apto a articular com o novo e descartar os monstros produzidos pelo sono da razão em um contexto mental inerte, que aceita tudo e qualquer coisa. Em psicanálise chamaríamos isso de lavagem cerebral. Em sociologia chamamos isso de revolução. E elas não são coisas distantes umas das outras. Estou certo de não existe revolução sem lavagem cerebral. Como surgiriam Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Khomeini e cia. limitada sem pessoas majoritariamente influenciadas por cérebros lavados?
O livro 1984 de George Orwell* retrata muito bem isso: como é essencial matar a história para se atingir, ou no caso do livro, manter um Estado Revolucionário [alguns – que não leram o livro – tentarão argumentar que o Estado era Totalitário, ao que responderei: (i) não existe revolução que não seja totalitária – lanço o desafio por um único exemplo de revolução não totalitária em toda a história humana – e (ii) o livro é expresso ao dizer que o Estado era Revolucionário**.]. No livro a história é apagada de duas formas diferentes:
História sendo apagada do Conhecimento Geral
“What happened in the unseen labyrinth to which the pneumatic tubes led, he [o personagem principal, que trabalhava no Ministério da “Verdade” alterando notícias e informações publicadas] did not know in detail, but he did know in general terms. As soon as all the corrections which happened to be necessary in any particular number of the Times [revista Times] had been assembled and collated, that number would be reprinted, the original copy destroyed, and the corrected copy placed on the files in its stead. This process of continuous alteration was applied not only to newspapers, but to books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, leaflets, films, sound-tracks, cartoons, photographs – to every kind of literature or documentation which might conceivably hold any political or ideological significance. Day by day and almost minute by minute the past was brought up to date.” p. 42 [Esse texto me faz lembrar das fogueiras de livros de Hitler e do Livro Vermelho de Mao.]
História sendo apagada do Conhecimento Individual
“‘You believe that you had seen unmistakable documentary evidence proving that their confessions were false. There was a certain photograph about which you had a hallucination. You believed that you had actually held it in your hands. It was a photograph something like this’. (…) ‘It exists!’ he cried. ‘No’, said O’Brien. He stepped across the room. There was a memory hole in the opposite wall [tubo onde os objetos lançados são sugados e destruídos para sempre]. O’Brien lifted the grating. Unseen, the frail slip of paper was whirling away on the current of warm air; it was vanishing in a flash of flame. O’Brien turned away from the wall. (…) ‘It does not exist. It never existed.’ ‘But it did exist! It does exist! It exists in memory. I remember it. You remember it.’ ‘I do not remember it,’ said O’Brien. (…) ‘There is a Party slogan dealing with the control of the past,’ he said. ‘Repeat it, if you please.’ ‘Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.’ Repeated Winston. (…) ‘Is it your opinion, Winston, that the past has real existence?’ Again the feeling of helplessness descended upon Winston. His eyes flitted towards the dial [botão que estava sendo apertado pelo O’Brian para dar choques no Winston sempre que o Winston dava uma resposta em desconformidade com o que os revolucionários queriam]. He not only did not know whether ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was the answer that would save him from pain; he did not even know which answer he believed to be the true one. (…) O’Brien held up his left hand, its back towards Winston, with the thumb hidden and the four fingers extended. ‘How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?’ ‘Four’ ‘And if the Party says that it is not four but five – then how many?’ ‘Four’ The word ended in a gasp of pain. The needle of the dial had shot up to fifty-five. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four’ The needle went up to sixty. ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four! Four! What else can I say? Four!’ The needle must have risen again, but he did not look at it. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four! Stop it, stop it! How can you go on? Four! Four!’ ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Five! Five! Five!’ ‘No, Winston, that is no use. You are lying. You still think there are four. How many fingers, please?’ ‘Four! Five! Four! Anything you like. Only stop it, stop the pain!’ Abruptly he was sitting up with O’Brien’s arm round his shoulders. He had perhaps lost consciousness for a few seconds. (…) ‘You are a slow learner, Winston’ said O’Brien gently. ‘How can I help it?’ he blubbered. ‘How can I help seeing what is in front of my eyes? Two and two are four.’ ‘Sometimes, Winston. Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three. Sometimes they are all of them at once. You must try harder. It is not easy to become sane.’ He laid Winston down on the bed. The grip on his limbs tightened again, but the pain had ebbed away and the trembling had stopped, (…) ‘Again’, said O’Brien. The pain flowed into Winston’s body. The needle must be at seventy, seventy-five. He had shut his eyes this time. He knew that the fingers were still there, and still four. All that mattered was somehow to stay alive until the spasm was over. He had ceased to notice whether he was crying out or not. The pain lessened again. He opened his eyes. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four. I suppose there are four. I would see five if I could. I am trying to see five.’ ‘Which do you wish: to persuade me that you see five, or really to see five.’ ‘Really to see them.’ ‘Again,’ said O’Brien. Perhaps the needle was at eighty – ninety. (…) The pain died down again. When he opened his eyes it was to find that he was still seeing the same thing. Innumerable fingers, like moving trees, were still streaming past in either direction, crossing and recrossing. He shut his eyes again. ‘How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?’ ‘I don’t know. I don’t know. You will kill me if you do that again. Four, five, six – in all honesty I don’t know.’ ‘Better,’ said O’Brien. (…) ‘Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of you own choosing. Do you begin to see, then, what kind of world we are creating?’” ps. 258-279 [Gramsci e Pavlov, ambos “cientistas” que serviram à revolução, poderiam ajuizar uma ação contra George Orwell por plagiar tão bem suas idéias no texto acima. "Como poderia viver o homem se cada experiência fosse sempre uma nova experiência?"*** Só poderia viver se alguém estivesse sempre a seu lado "guiando-o" quanto ao que fazer em seguida.]
Até a língua, instrumento capaz de articular reflexões e expulsar os monstros produzidos pelo sono da razão, era transformada numa nova língua (Newspeak), com novos conteúdos que não permitiriam pensamentos “ruins”, leia-se: contrários à revolução (algo parecido com o que está acontecendo atualmente no movimento do Politicamente Correto), retratando muito bem as relações inversamente proporcionais entre conservação (sob o aspecto histórico) e dominação.
Não conservar o conhecimento é se tornar vulnerável a ver um monstro-produzido-pelo-sono-da-razão qualquer dominar sua mente, transformando-o em um cérebro lavado e vazio e em uma peça de um movimento revolucionário qualquer criado e dirigido por outros zumbis. Para quem sente: “Always the eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, working or eating, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or in bed – no escape.”, vale lembrar que “Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters inside your skull” (p. 29) e que temos esse importante ponto de partida.
*Dados da versão de onde extraí os trechos acima: ORWELL, George Nineteen Eighty-Four, England, Penguin Books, 1987
**“The thing you invariably came back to was the impossibility of knowing what life before the Revolution had really been like.” p. 75 (esse é apenas um dos diversos parágrafos do livro que tratam o Estado Oceania como revolucionário; um parágrafo que expressa bem a morte da história no processo revolucionário).
O que é o conhecimento senão a projeção (passiva e ativa) do que nos chega por um dos cinco sentidos em um contexto histórico de formas e conteúdos que se encontra em nossa mente? Fisiologicamente vemos o mesmo que um recém nascido, mas intelectualmente vemos muito mais. A conservação do conteúdo é essencial para a intelecção. A eliminação do conteúdo conservado transforma o contexto mental antes apto a articular com o novo e descartar os monstros produzidos pelo sono da razão em um contexto mental inerte, que aceita tudo e qualquer coisa. Em psicanálise chamaríamos isso de lavagem cerebral. Em sociologia chamamos isso de revolução. E elas não são coisas distantes umas das outras. Estou certo de não existe revolução sem lavagem cerebral. Como surgiriam Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Khomeini e cia. limitada sem pessoas majoritariamente influenciadas por cérebros lavados?
O livro 1984 de George Orwell* retrata muito bem isso: como é essencial matar a história para se atingir, ou no caso do livro, manter um Estado Revolucionário [alguns – que não leram o livro – tentarão argumentar que o Estado era Totalitário, ao que responderei: (i) não existe revolução que não seja totalitária – lanço o desafio por um único exemplo de revolução não totalitária em toda a história humana – e (ii) o livro é expresso ao dizer que o Estado era Revolucionário**.]. No livro a história é apagada de duas formas diferentes:
História sendo apagada do Conhecimento Geral
“What happened in the unseen labyrinth to which the pneumatic tubes led, he [o personagem principal, que trabalhava no Ministério da “Verdade” alterando notícias e informações publicadas] did not know in detail, but he did know in general terms. As soon as all the corrections which happened to be necessary in any particular number of the Times [revista Times] had been assembled and collated, that number would be reprinted, the original copy destroyed, and the corrected copy placed on the files in its stead. This process of continuous alteration was applied not only to newspapers, but to books, periodicals, pamphlets, posters, leaflets, films, sound-tracks, cartoons, photographs – to every kind of literature or documentation which might conceivably hold any political or ideological significance. Day by day and almost minute by minute the past was brought up to date.” p. 42 [Esse texto me faz lembrar das fogueiras de livros de Hitler e do Livro Vermelho de Mao.]
História sendo apagada do Conhecimento Individual
“‘You believe that you had seen unmistakable documentary evidence proving that their confessions were false. There was a certain photograph about which you had a hallucination. You believed that you had actually held it in your hands. It was a photograph something like this’. (…) ‘It exists!’ he cried. ‘No’, said O’Brien. He stepped across the room. There was a memory hole in the opposite wall [tubo onde os objetos lançados são sugados e destruídos para sempre]. O’Brien lifted the grating. Unseen, the frail slip of paper was whirling away on the current of warm air; it was vanishing in a flash of flame. O’Brien turned away from the wall. (…) ‘It does not exist. It never existed.’ ‘But it did exist! It does exist! It exists in memory. I remember it. You remember it.’ ‘I do not remember it,’ said O’Brien. (…) ‘There is a Party slogan dealing with the control of the past,’ he said. ‘Repeat it, if you please.’ ‘Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.’ Repeated Winston. (…) ‘Is it your opinion, Winston, that the past has real existence?’ Again the feeling of helplessness descended upon Winston. His eyes flitted towards the dial [botão que estava sendo apertado pelo O’Brian para dar choques no Winston sempre que o Winston dava uma resposta em desconformidade com o que os revolucionários queriam]. He not only did not know whether ‘yes’ or ‘no’ was the answer that would save him from pain; he did not even know which answer he believed to be the true one. (…) O’Brien held up his left hand, its back towards Winston, with the thumb hidden and the four fingers extended. ‘How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?’ ‘Four’ ‘And if the Party says that it is not four but five – then how many?’ ‘Four’ The word ended in a gasp of pain. The needle of the dial had shot up to fifty-five. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four’ The needle went up to sixty. ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four! Four! What else can I say? Four!’ The needle must have risen again, but he did not look at it. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four! Stop it, stop it! How can you go on? Four! Four!’ ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Five! Five! Five!’ ‘No, Winston, that is no use. You are lying. You still think there are four. How many fingers, please?’ ‘Four! Five! Four! Anything you like. Only stop it, stop the pain!’ Abruptly he was sitting up with O’Brien’s arm round his shoulders. He had perhaps lost consciousness for a few seconds. (…) ‘You are a slow learner, Winston’ said O’Brien gently. ‘How can I help it?’ he blubbered. ‘How can I help seeing what is in front of my eyes? Two and two are four.’ ‘Sometimes, Winston. Sometimes they are five. Sometimes they are three. Sometimes they are all of them at once. You must try harder. It is not easy to become sane.’ He laid Winston down on the bed. The grip on his limbs tightened again, but the pain had ebbed away and the trembling had stopped, (…) ‘Again’, said O’Brien. The pain flowed into Winston’s body. The needle must be at seventy, seventy-five. He had shut his eyes this time. He knew that the fingers were still there, and still four. All that mattered was somehow to stay alive until the spasm was over. He had ceased to notice whether he was crying out or not. The pain lessened again. He opened his eyes. (…) ‘How many fingers, Winston?’ ‘Four. I suppose there are four. I would see five if I could. I am trying to see five.’ ‘Which do you wish: to persuade me that you see five, or really to see five.’ ‘Really to see them.’ ‘Again,’ said O’Brien. Perhaps the needle was at eighty – ninety. (…) The pain died down again. When he opened his eyes it was to find that he was still seeing the same thing. Innumerable fingers, like moving trees, were still streaming past in either direction, crossing and recrossing. He shut his eyes again. ‘How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?’ ‘I don’t know. I don’t know. You will kill me if you do that again. Four, five, six – in all honesty I don’t know.’ ‘Better,’ said O’Brien. (…) ‘Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of you own choosing. Do you begin to see, then, what kind of world we are creating?’” ps. 258-279 [Gramsci e Pavlov, ambos “cientistas” que serviram à revolução, poderiam ajuizar uma ação contra George Orwell por plagiar tão bem suas idéias no texto acima. "Como poderia viver o homem se cada experiência fosse sempre uma nova experiência?"*** Só poderia viver se alguém estivesse sempre a seu lado "guiando-o" quanto ao que fazer em seguida.]
Até a língua, instrumento capaz de articular reflexões e expulsar os monstros produzidos pelo sono da razão, era transformada numa nova língua (Newspeak), com novos conteúdos que não permitiriam pensamentos “ruins”, leia-se: contrários à revolução (algo parecido com o que está acontecendo atualmente no movimento do Politicamente Correto), retratando muito bem as relações inversamente proporcionais entre conservação (sob o aspecto histórico) e dominação.
Não conservar o conhecimento é se tornar vulnerável a ver um monstro-produzido-pelo-sono-da-razão qualquer dominar sua mente, transformando-o em um cérebro lavado e vazio e em uma peça de um movimento revolucionário qualquer criado e dirigido por outros zumbis. Para quem sente: “Always the eyes watching you and the voice enveloping you. Asleep or awake, working or eating, indoors or out of doors, in the bath or in bed – no escape.”, vale lembrar que “Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimeters inside your skull” (p. 29) e que temos esse importante ponto de partida.
*Dados da versão de onde extraí os trechos acima: ORWELL, George Nineteen Eighty-Four, England, Penguin Books, 1987
**“The thing you invariably came back to was the impossibility of knowing what life before the Revolution had really been like.” p. 75 (esse é apenas um dos diversos parágrafos do livro que tratam o Estado Oceania como revolucionário; um parágrafo que expressa bem a morte da história no processo revolucionário).
.
***"Como poderia viver o homem se cada experiência fosse sempre uma nova experiência? Como poderia ele manter a sua existência se tivesse que experimentar cada fato como algo de novo? Bergson exemplificava imaginando um homem que houvesse perdido totalmente a memória, e que não tivesse qualquer memória. Quando ele praticava um ato, esquecia-o totalmente logo após à prática, e o ato seguinte ser-lhe-ia inteiramente novo, sem qualquer ligação com os atos anteriores. Esse homem não poderia viver, se entregue a si mesmo, pois não lhe guiaria a memória nenhum de seus atos. Poder-se-ia queimar no fogo tantas vezes quantas dele se aproximasse; morreria de fome, pois não guardaria a memória do alimento para satisfazer aquela necessidade imperiosa." DOS SANTOS, Mario F. in Filosofia e cosmovisão, 6ª edição, São Paulo, Editora Logos, 1961, pg. 43
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