"Clump of Heaven/End of the World" [Yanomami Dreams Series], by Claudia Andujar. Photo: Disclosure.

“We are going to use all our critical and creative capacity to build colorful parachutes. Let's think of space not as a confined place, but as the cosmos where we can plummet in colorful parachutes.”

                               Ailton Krenak, Ideas for postponing the end of the world, 2019.

This epigraph by Ailton Krenak, taken from a speech he published in 2019, as if indicating a window, draws a gap in the confinement that we were forced to experience in 2020, to try to overcome the crisis produced by the covid-19 pandemic. Reading the passage, we thought: let's leave the confined space with the power of our mind, expanding it to the dimension of the cosmos where we will fly in our “colorful parachutes”! This formulation, which makes it possible to establish a bridge that goes from the terrible to the wonderful, breaks with the cloister, cracking the walls of our “cloisters”. We can say that it is self-performing, insofar as Krenak, when formulating his thesis, is already producing openings in our minds, expansions beyond our confinement. But it is not, of course, just the confinement produced by the Sars-CoV-2 pandemic. Krenak formulated this idea before the pandemic and from a powerful reflection on the paths and accidents of human history. The confined space he refers to in this passage is the confinement within instrumental reason of humanist and Enlightenment origin. This reason has chosen a mode of progress that enthrones a destructive technique that feeds on the land and people and is leading us to the “end of the world” referred to in the title of his book, Ideas for postponing the end of the world.

Instrumental reason launched us into a aporia, in an impasse, in a deep uncertainty that paralyzes us. He's closed the doors and we're stuck. aporia comes from the greek aporos and derives, according to the Houaiss dictionary, “from a- 'deprivation, denial' […], + Greek pores, or 'ticket'". In the midst of this closure produced by this development model and which has now generated a gigantic and overwhelming pandemic, the words of Krenak, an indigenous leader who comes from a culture that has lived for millennia in the Americas without ever having reached a similar situation, suggest the need for a pause for reflection: let's build creative outlets, let's make our “colored parachutes”.

Krenak describes this aporia experienced by contemporary society, but at the same time he separates himself from this society, he shows that he comes from another tradition, from a multi-centennial history of survival:

In 2018, when we were on the verge of being assaulted by a new situation in Brazil, I was asked: “How are the Indians going to do in the face of all this?”. I said: “The Indians have been resisting for five hundred years, what I'm worried about is the whites, how are they going to escape this one”. We resisted expanding our subjectivity, not accepting this idea that we are all the same. There are still approximately 250 ethnicities that want to be different from each other in Brazil, who speak more than 150 languages ​​and dialects.[1]

Instead of falling into a melancholy position, in paralyzing prostration, Krenak tells us about another register of thought, beyond our Cartesian parameters, which see in logical reasoning the apex of knowledge. And there is no shortage of reasons for melancholy, when we look at the history of destruction and violence against indigenous people in Brazil. Claude Lévi-Strauss, in the book Missing Brazil, succinctly presented this story as one of a fantastic accumulation of barbarism. It is the extent of the indigenous massacre that the anthropologist highlighted in this work. In doing so, he at the same time pointed to the greatness of indigenous cultures living on Brazilian lands, reversing the hierarchy traditionally attributed to indigenous peoples in the Americas: the “Amazon”, he writes, “could be the cradle from which civilizations emerged. Andean.”[2] Lévi-Strauss emerges as a witness to populations that survived “a monstrous genocide” that extends from the arrival of Europeans to the present day. He saw “the last survivors of this cataclysm that went to their ancestors [sc. of the Indians] the discovery and the invasions that followed.”[3] It is estimated that between 5 and 9 million indigenous people were murdered thanks to the colonial enterprise, whether through epidemics, massacres or enslavement. It is one of the greatest genocides in human history. This colonial enterprise is still ongoing and recovered in 2018.

Krenak, starting from this gigantic and heavy heritage of genocides, ethnocides and struggles for survival, takes a turn and proposes resistance through imagination. It is a powerful “hole-mover” of gaps, which allows the opening of paths, countless “pores”, which allow us to get out of our “aporia”. This switch that would throw us out of the hole in which we find ourselves has dreams as one of its faces:

For some people, the idea of ​​dreaming is to give up reality, to give up the practical meaning of life. However, we can also find those who would not see meaning in life if they were not informed by dreams, in which they can seek corners, healing, inspiration and even the resolution of practical issues that they cannot discern, whose choices they cannot make outside of the dream. , but that are open there as possibilities.[4]

These dreams are privileged places that reveal a new look at our lives. In addition to this opening that allows us to structure another reading of the real and to build other subjectivities, dreams are in themselves places of dwelling without walls. Krenak tells us: “Where do the parachutes project from? From the place where visions and dreams are possible. Another place that we can inhabit beyond this hard land: the place of dreams.”[5] Inhabiting dreams, living beyond “this hard earth”, in the multiform softness of dreams, opening pores between the dream world and our waking hours, breaking down the walls of the “total and totalitarian institution” into which the system converts and reduces the entire earth. Before the whole earth becomes hard and dry, Krenak proposes, with all the lightness in the world, without revolutionary cries, without cries for bloodshed, that we recognize in dreams a place of expansion of our lives, a space to leave the aporia.

During the month of April, that is, a few months after the outbreak of the covid19 pandemic, Krenak published other lines in his small booklet Tomorrow is not for sale. Again, he returns to the theme of the lack of exit, now radicalized with covid19, for those who bet on the model of humanity consecrated by the Humanist, Enlightenment tradition and by the enthronement of technique as an agent of domination and destruction of nature. The Modernity in which these trends converge has always been marked both by a biopolitics that reduces large parts of humanity to the category of sub-humans, by ethnic-racial prejudice, by policies of slavery and genocide and, finally, was characterized by a spoliation relationship with nature. On the other hand, the Amerindian peoples, as Krenak writes presenting his cosmovision, do not perceive “that there is something that is not nature. Everything is nature.”[6] Thus, they abandoned the binarism that marks, at least since the classical worldview, born in Greece, the duality that reproduces the objectification relationship with this nature dominated by “culture”. Anthropocentrism and speciesism are a central part of the project that culminated in the Anthropocene, that is, the era in which humanity shapes the planet and builds the foundations for eliminating its possibility of survival. We cannot forget that this pandemic is the result of the destruction of biodiversity. The “emerging zoonoses” are the result of the invasion of these habitats rich in biodiversity. Biodiversity is at the same time the depository of our future and its preservation the guarantee that these zoonoses will not be repeated.[7] In the Americas, Amerindian populations are largely responsible for the conservation of biodiversity territories. The native populations in Brazil are guardians of one of the greatest biodiversity patrimonies in the world, but also, as we read above with Krenak, they hold one of the richest cultural patrimonies, with their 250 ethnicities and about 150 languages ​​and dialects. Thus, Krenak points to the fact that this virus calls into question this model of destructive relationship with nature:

This virus is discriminating against humanity. Just look around. The São Caetano melon continues to grow here on the side of the house. Nature follows. The virus does not kill birds, bears, any other beings, only humans. Who are in panic are the human peoples and their artificial world, their way of functioning that has gone into crisis. […]

We are worse than Covid-19. This package called humanity is being completely detached from this organism that is the Earth, living in a civilizational abstraction that suppresses diversity, denies the plurality of forms of life, existence and habits.[8]

In the book, Ideas for postponing the end of the world, Krenak mocked a certain alarmism about the “end of the world” and recalled that indigenous peoples live with more than five centuries of epidemics introduced by “whites”. It presents a way of life that escapes our Judeo-Christian worldviews (Marxist or not) that bet on an “end of the world”, on a revolution, on a punctual redemption. The wisdom cultivated in dreams and in dances and in dialogue with the spirits of the past teaches that the “revolution” is in the ability to stop and get out of the aporetic path. We must learn to pierce our walls, dig bridges and tunnels, fill a society with pores and closed minds programmed for a project in itself entropic, since it bets on the infinite exploitation of natural resources. It is also committed to ending the plurality of biodiversity and forms of life and culture, the true foundations of life on Earth. In your Tomorrow is not for sale Krenak will precisely highlight the importance of not fighting, now, for a “return to normality”, that is, on the same path that we had been walking and that produced this pandemic.

I hope we don't go back to normality, because if we do, it's because the death of thousands of people around the world was worthless. […] We cannot go back to that rhythm, start all the cars, all the machines at the same time. It would be like converting to denialism, accepting that the Earth is flat and that we must continue to devour ourselves. Then, yes, we will have proved that humanity is a lie.[9]

Another great voice from the Amerindian world that has brought a series of precious and urgent teachings is that of Davi Kopenawa. in your book The fall of the sky. Words of a Yanomami Shaman (co-written with anthropologist Bruce Albert) he describes in hundreds of pages the martyrology of the Yanomami provoked by contacts with whites, be they military on missions to demarcate borders, or workers building roads, but above all prospectors in search of ores under the Yanomami land. . Kopenawa is completely clear about the fact that these mining operations themselves produce epidemics. In other words, not only does contact with these whites bring diseases, but the destruction of the forest, rivers and soil produces epidemics.

The things that white people so greedily extract from the depths of the earth, minerals and oil, are not food. They are evil and dangerous things, impregnated with coughs and fevers, which only Daze [the creator god] knew. But he decided at first to hide them under the forest floor so they wouldn't make us sick. He wanted no one to be able to take them off the ground, to protect us. That's why they must be kept where he left them buried forever. The forest is the flesh and skin of our land, which is the back of the ancient Hutukara [shamanic name of ancient heaven] fallen in the first time. the metal that Daze Hidden in her is her skeleton, which she envelops in damp coolness. These are the words of our spirits that white people do not know. They already have more than enough goods. Despite this, they continue to dig the ground relentlessly, like giant armadillos. They don't think that by doing this they will be as contaminated as we are. They are wrong.[10]

According to Davi Kopenawa, recalling the knowledge passed to him in conversations with ancient shamans, in dreams and in shamanic trances, metals were created not by Omama, but by his malevolent brother Yoasi, the god who also introduced death. Omama buried the metals to protect us and underground they must remain. These metals, moreover, hold the props that hold up the sky, they hold "the earth in its place." In other words, removing these metals from the soil, destroying the forest that isolates them, implies releasing fatal epidemics:

Now we know where this evil smoke comes from. It is the smoke of metal, which we also call the smoke of ores. They're all the same epidemic smoke xawara [11] that is our true enemy. Daze he buried the ores so they would stay underground and could never contaminate us. It was a wise decision and none of us [yanomami] ever had the idea of ​​digging the ground to bring them out of the darkness! […] The vital breath of the inhabitants of the forest is fragile in the face of these smokes xawara. […] When these smokes appeared, they did not have the strength to defend themselves. They all burned with fever and were soon like ghosts. They died quickly, in large numbers, like fish in timbó fishing. This is how the first whites made almost all of our old ones disappear.[12]

Kopenawa also says that despite our cities being infested with this deadly smoke, we didn't give up, we continued destroying the forest, creating gigantic cities. Our thinking, he says, “is completely closed”, in an expression that recalls the image of the “confined place” in Krenak's speech that we read at the beginning of this text. Kopenawa establishes a relationship between these epidemics and the goods brought by the whites: “disease and death strike the inhabitants of the forest as soon as they begin to desire the goods. […] So, for us, goods have epidemic value. xawara. "[13] This reasoning is fundamental and a central part of Kopenawa’s counter-anthropology: the whites, whom he calls “commodity people”, are also, in a way, the people who bring and produce epidemics, with their rage to extract metals, which they hold the pillars of heaven above our heads, and desire to produce goods, with which they deplete the earth's metals. “Today, evil beings xawarari keep increasing”, he writes in an almost prophetic way, but which in fact simply explains the perception of the people who live in the forests and have been the easiest victims of these epidemics for centuries. And he continues: “But the ears of white people do not listen to the words of the spirits! They only pay attention to their own speech and never realize that it is the same epidemic smoke that poisons and devours their own children.”[14] Just as Krenak speaks of the need to wake up, before it's too late, to what's happening to Earth[15], here Davi Kopenawa speaks of this need to hear the cries of the Earth. We have to get out of our “comfort zone” that has become a “discomfort zone”, because we are digging the ground under our own feet.

Photo by Claudia Andujar from the series “Catrimani”. Photo: Disclosure.

The Brazil of the covid-19 pandemic in April 2020 is also a country ravaged by the plague of an openly genocidal fascist policy. It is important to take up a speech by the current president made on 29/06/2017 in Porto Alegre: “My specialty is killing”. On that occasion, he also recalled that the greatest achievement of his activity as a deputy would have been the approval of the “cancer pill” (phosphoethanolamine), a hoax, which does not fail to recall his current insistence on the supposed miraculous capacity of chloroquine against Covid-19. Its thanatopolitics against indigenous, quilombola, black, LGBTQ+ populations, its misogyny and attack on fundamental freedoms, make the pandemic emerge as an ally of that government's policy of death, and it is already clear that the poorest and most unprotected populations health system will be the most victimized. Now, not only have the invasions of miners and loggers on indigenous territories increased, taking the pandemic to the native populations, but the deforestation of the Amazon has intensified. According to Instituto Socioambiental, “deforestation in the first quarter of this year [2020] was 51% higher than the same period last year.”[16] These felled trees are potential fuel for fires that will likely be even more devastating than those of 2019. As an assumed death knight, this president refuses to face the pandemic, he denies it, as he denies socio-environmental issues or destruction and violence associated with the period of the 1964-1985 dictatorship, which he prefers to see as a heroic and model phase. His root denialism is associated with a pathological incapacity for empathy and solidarity. The “other”, in this world view, deserves only its erasure. Fundamentalist monolingualism denies plurality and difference. “Outricide” occurs both in cultural terms, tentatively extinguishing all cultural production and destroying ethnic groups, especially indigenous and quilombola cultures, their favorite targets, which also indicates their intrinsic cowardice. Megadiversity peoples, indigenous and quilombola, are the antipodes of the “other-killing” fascist thinking model. Necropolitics and ultraliberalism, in this sense, go hand in hand, see the dismantling of labor rights that has been carried out since the Temer government, which continued in 2019 and now, during the pandemic, seeking to uproot the few rights that remained, reducing the worker to a situation of total helplessness. Ultraliberalism is just the contemporary expression of the colonial enterprise that always wanted to reduce the land to a commodity and the worker to a slave.

The corona pandemic, in addition to making death ubiquitous, forces us into a seclusion that prevents us from burying our relatives and friends. Grief itself is barred. It is a death that comes with the death of death itself, which destroys our frames of reference and bars symbolization. To make the situation worse in Brazil, there is a government that takes death as its motto. It takes advantage of the troubled and chaotic period, without a minister to lead the fight against the disease (since former health minister Luiz Henrique Mandetta was fired in the middle of the pandemic and replaced by an administrator committed to minimizing the severity of the crisis) to carry out a dismantling of the country. For example, Minister Ricardo Salles, of the Environment, recently signed (06/04/2020) an order granting amnesty for land deforested until 2008 in Permanent Conservation Areas of the Atlantic Forest, allowing the “productive” use of these places. This authorization of destruction ratifies the frantically practiced ecocide. Everything that promotes the maximum exploitation of workers and nature is validated by the Bolsonaro government. On April 23, Bolsonaro issued an ordinance authorizing civilians to purchase 550 units of ammunition per month. Instead of fighting the pandemic, encouraging weapons, building an army of militiamen with unimaginable potential for death and destruction.

There is an evident mismatch between the radicality of this policy of destruction and death and, on the other hand, the movement of care and protection of the population, required at a time of pandemic. The president, in the few times he deigned to speak on the subject, adheres, as I mentioned, to magical solutions, such as drugs that are proven to be ineffective and even dangerous for the fight against covid-19. Another point that mobilizes this government, which, after dismissing the Minister of Justice, is putting the Federal Police at the service of the president's family and his new allies in the so-called Centrão, is the expansion of population control, through access to data. of cell phones and computers, such as their location. The digital panopticon feeds a president avid for information from ABIN (Brazilian Intelligence Agency) and the Federal Police.

In this context, the solution proposed by Krenak and supported by Kopenawa's words, that we have to open ourselves to the demands of the Earth, are undoubtedly difficult to translate into practice. But the empire of death, with its two knights of the apocalypse Bolsonaro and Corona serving as momentary squires, will not triumph so quickly or without resistance. The very publication of Krenak's text, composed of 3 speeches given in April of this year, is proof of that. He himself throws his colorful parachutes at us, indicating the need to review our idea of ​​“normality” in the face of the pandemic crisis and Bolsonaro's mismanagement. Krenak also reminds us of other thinkers who, in the XNUMXth century, lived in extreme situations, aporias and corners, when death also extended over much of the world. This is the case of Walter Benjamin, who was a victim of Nazi-fascism and who also reflected deeply on the need to stop the model of society that associated capitalism with a model that destroys technique.[17] Benjamin summed up his critique of progress in the European industrializing model with this strong image: “Marx says that revolutions are the locomotives of world history. But perhaps this is entirely different. Perhaps revolutions are the setting of the emergency brake by humanity traveling on this train.”[18] Benjamin, since his important essay on surrealism, from 1929, has also been busy with a project that reminds us a lot of the apology and centrality of dreams and shamanic trance in Amerindian cultures: “Mobilize the forces of intoxication for revolution”.[19] Evidently, the idea of ​​“revolution”, as we have seen, is not part of the Amerindian framework, but a fruit of our Judeo-Christian thinking (and in its own Marxist way in the case of Benjamin). But this does not imply that we cannot find affinities here, as Benjamin was a “now time” thinker (Jetztzeit), who valued the idea of ​​temporal short circuits in the production of vital changes. The same happens in shamanism and in the world of dreams, where there is no boundary between past, present and future either.

For Benjamin, this conquest of the forces of intoxication for the revolution was also associated with what he called the “organization of pessimism”.[20] Nothing more current. The task he set himself was to radically alter the relationship between politics and morals based on this mobilization of the forces of intoxication. Benjamin adheres to what he believes to be the alternative given by the surrealists. In this vision, in opposition to the bourgeois optimism of social democracy and the “imagery framework” of its poets, a pessimism of principle as a guide to change. And above all: it is a clear awareness that the only “advance” achievable in the current capitalist model (whether in the 1930s or in the 2020s) is that of the technique that leads to destruction. This idea is also luminous today, in these times of dark clouds, rivers of waste, oceans of tar, destruction of forests and pandemics. To organize pessimism, it would be necessary “to simply uproot the moral metaphor from the sphere of politics, and discover in the space of political action the complete space of the image.”[21] In other words, it was and is, yesterday as it is today, to recognize in the politics turned towards moralism, towards the “fight against the corrupt”, towards the hygiene that would eliminate the “leftists”, the clearest expression of fascism. The political struggle takes place as a battle of images and thinkers like Kopenawa and Krenak, as well as artists, poets, workers and intellectuals, produce new images every day that oppose the alleged monological truth that those in power seek to impose. These other images mobilize our passions and sustain new and robust subjectivities, form other collectivities and support resistance.

Benjamin was also dedicated to the “drunkenness” of hashish, which he consumed to study its effects on our minds, and was someone who sought to bring to his theory the power of the dream. As he noted in his book on the passages in Paris: “In the dream, in which the following epoch appears in images before the eyes of each age, it appears associated with elements of primeval history, that is, of a classless society. The experiences of this society, which have their deposit in the collective unconscious, generate, in interaction with the new, the utopia that has left its traces in a thousand configurations of life, from lasting constructions to passing fads.”[22] Knowing how to feel and perceive these fragments of utopia dispersed on the surface of society and in its history is a first step towards beginning its realization. Benjamin, in short, also presented us with a series of colorful parachutes to face the dark times and learn to break through our walls and walls, jump with colorful parachutes and fall more smoothly.

Finally, I conclude these reflections, triggered by isolation and the covid-19 pandemic that is now spreading throughout the world and has already victimized more than 200 thousand people (25/04/2020), 4 thousand of which in Brazil, recalling a poet , therefore another parachute creator, who survived the Nazi concentration camps where he lost his parents. I mean Paul Celan. He has a poem I've been rereading these days. Its title is "Corona". “Corona” (crown) in Italian is also the name of the indication that is placed on a banknote to increase its value and which in Portuguese is called suspension or fermata. This last expression also comes from Italian and means “stop”. It can indicate either the length of a note or a stop, of silence. Celan's poem “Corona” is about time and the giving of time itself. In the first stanza we read, in the translation by Mauricio Cardozo:

Autumn eats its leaves in my hand: we are friends.
We peel the nuts on time and teach her to go:
the time goes back to the shell.

This “hour”, or “time” (“Zeit”), which returns to the shell, is a time both in the cycle of nature and in human relationships. The poem, as happens a lot in Celan's poetics, addresses a “you” and speaks of a “we”, of an encounter. It is about the construction of an epiphany, marked by the meeting of two people, which breaks the temporal continuity, “it's Sunday”, establishing both forgetfulness (poppy) and memory. The poem continues:

In the mirror it's Sunday,
in the dream you sleep,
in the mouth, the truth.

My eye goes down to the sex of lovers:
see you,
we tell each other dark things,
we love each other like poppy and memory,
we sleep like wine in shells,
like the sea in the blood that streaks the moon.

Us together at the window, they look at us from the street:
it's time to find out!
It's time for the stone to get used to blooming,
of restlessness making a heart beat.
It's time to be on time.
It's time.

This established time, the time of time, can be read as a rebirth from the omnipresence of death. From the bodies that meet, life is reborn. The stones in Celan's poetics almost always refer to death and the need to grieve. After death, in the reunion with the “other”, life flows again: “It's time for the stone to get used to blooming”. What interests me most about “Corona” in our context is its final stanza. The image of this couple at the window and of a knowledge that is suddenly established and breaks with the linearity of time. He also breaks with the “confined place”, to take up Krenak's epigraph. The stone that will bloom is associated with the heart that beats. The time that is born is pure time, without past or future, a simple instance of becoming, of giving oneself, beyond the apocalypse and redemption. Without the fear of the end and without the vain hope of the messianic revolution. “The time goes back to the shell”, “die Zeit kehrt zurück in die Schale”. “It's time to be on time”, “Es ist Zeit, daß es Zeit wird”: it is time for time to come true.

Would this temporality not be a sister to the one that allows us to build our colorful parachutes? Let's walk from the corona to the fermata, towards the time of suspension. The reinstated time makes room for us to plummet, in a network, mediated and united by our electronic pores, but not only, “in colorful parachutes”, breaking with the aporias. Would not this awareness of the “fermata”, of the suspension of time, be the first step for us to grasp the emergency brake that Benjamin tells us about? It's about time.

* Márcio Seligmann-Silva holds a PhD from the Free University of Berlin, a post-doctorate from Yale, a professor of Literary Theory at UNICAMP and a researcher at CNPq. He is the author of, among other works, “Ler o Livro do Mundo” (Iluminuras, 1999, winner of the Mario de Andrade Prize for Literary Essay of the National Library in 2000), “Adorno” (PubliFolha, 2003), “O Local da Diferença ” (Editor 34, 2005 winner of the Jabuti Prize in the Best Book of Theory/Literary Criticism 2006), “Towards a critique of compassion” (Lumme Editor, 2009) and “The actuality of Walter Benjamin and Theodor W. Adorno” ( Publisher Civilização Brasileira, 2009). He was visiting professor at Universities in Brazil, Argentina, Germany, England and Mexico.

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[1] Ailton Krenak, Ideas for postponing the end of the world, São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2019, p. 31.

[2] Claude Levi-Strauss Missing Brazil, São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1994, p. 13.

[3] Id., p. 16.

[4] Krenak, 2019, cit., p. 52.

[5] Id., p. 65.

[6] Ailton Krenak, Tomorrow is not for sale, São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2020, Kindle version.

[7] Janes Rocha, “Biodiversity is the key to predicting and preventing new pandemics”, In: Science Journal, 16/04/2020.

[8] Krenak, 2020, cit.

[9] Krenak, 2020, cit.

[10] Davi Kopenawa and Bruce Albert, The fall of the sky. Words of a Yanomami Shaman, São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2015, p. 357.

[11] Further on, Kopenawa defines: “What we call xawara are measles, flu, malaria, tuberculosis and all the white diseases that kill us to devour our flesh.” Id., p. 366.

[12] Id., p. 363-64.

[13] Id., p. 368.

[14] Id., p. 370.

[15] “What I have learned over these decades is that everyone needs to wake up, because if for a while it was us, the indigenous peoples, who were threatened with the rupture or extinction of the meanings of our lives, today we are all facing the imminence of the Earth. not support our demand.” Krenak, 2019, cit., p. 45.

[16] “Deforestation in the Amazon grows and can generate new fires”, https://www.socioambiental.org/pt-br/blog/blog-do-monitoramento/desmatamento-na-amazonia-cresce-e-pode-gerar-novas-queimadas, visited on 25/04/2020.

[17] I refer this theory of technique in Benjamin to my recent article: “Philosophy of Technique: Art as a new playful field of action (scope) in Benjamin and Flusser”, in: ARTPHILOSOPHY, At the. 26, July 2019, p. 52-85. (Also available online)

[18] Walter Benjamin, Gesammelte Schriften, vol. II: Essays, Vortrage, Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, ​​1980, p. 1232.

[19] benjamin, selected works, v. I, Magic and technique, art and politics, trans. SP Rouanet, technical review Márcio Seligmann-Silva, São Paulo: Brasiliense, 2012, p. 33.

[20] Id., p. 34.

[21] Id., p. 34.

[22] benjamin, tickets, org. Willi Bolle and Olgária Matos, translated by Irene Aron and Cleonice Paes Barreto Mourão, São Paulo/Belo Horizonte:Ed.UFMG/Official Press of the State of São Paulo, 2006, p. 41.

 

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