opinion

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Jackson, Blues power

The privatization of air

by Raúl Leis R. --- raulleisr@hotmail.com

Various people have asked me to republish the following story, which is part of my book “Remedios para la congoja” (Remedies for Anguish), and which attempts to express with intensity the perverse logic of privatizing public assets:

While listening to the news about the economy, Federico Sánchez fell asleep with his dog by his side, in a hammock that swung squeakily along by intertia, until it stopped.

It was the last thing left to privatize. The idea had been out there for some time, and the strategy was now carefully planned. When the opportune moment came, giving rise to the necessary conditions, no doubt was left by the filing of the patent, duly inscribed in the register of property. The other branches of the multinational business network were in charge of doing the same in every country, to get the means of production and distribution, which had been prepared for some time, to function. The governments washed their hands of the matter: there wasn’t anything wrong with air being regulated by the free market, they said.

The air. It appeared in different brands to make it competitive. It was graded according to different percentages of purity, with their corresponding prices. It was advertised in demand-creating publicity campaigns. It was parceled out in plastic bags and disposable bottles. It was dyed in different colors to make it more attractive. It was given the distinct odors of fruits, agreeable to all tastes. For children, it was ornamented with bows and drawings of favorite story and movie characters.

Poor air! The low quality stuff sold for two bags for a dollar. It was reduced in special promotions and yard sales. “De luxe” air was imported from the Alps, the Urals and the Apennines, and offered as designer air in boutiques and in executive packages. At a certain point the ultimate successes in the bookstores were the manuals with 100 techniques to make love with less air. Novelties like special unbreakable space suits for children’s and hyperactive youths’ sports and adventures were advertised.

The privatized air was absorbed by great suction pumps that processed and commercialized it. Those persons and domestic animals who were authorized to live carried personalized bubbles, commercially controlled by a branch of the company, which also conditioned houses and buildings as sealed spaces to accommodate the air that was bought from it.

The death penalty was carried out simply by asphyxia and suicide was an act as simple as taking off the space suit or bubble. Politicians promised more air in their election speeches, and gave away little bottles of air with their parties’ colors to obtain votes. The theft of air became the principal crime punished by the law.

There was illegal air, mixed with drugs and stupefacients, which was trafficked throughout the world. Air thieves were the most wanted criminals in every country. Beggars asked for alms of air, and the kites that used to fly in the atmosphere became museum pieces.

Poor world! In the zoos, only the forest specimens proven to consume the least air survived in their bubbles. The surface of the earth and the seas became desolate and saturated with pollution. Crops were cultivated with chemicals and genetic manipulation in special spheres, and the only fish were raised in closed tanks.

Poor poor! They went through juggling acts to breathe less, because the cost of living went up. They had lost the last thing that was free, so it was if you didn’t pay you didn’t breathe, just as it is that if you don’t work you don’t eat. Mansions were pumped up like aerostatic balloons, and on the other hand, shacks were deflated.

Federico woke up from the nightmare with a drowning sensation. He almost couldn’t breathe. He pulled off his t-shirt, which was soaked in sweat. Everything was quiet in his dwelling.

He went to the bathroom and cleaned up. He looked for something for breakfast in the kitchen. The drowning sensation continued. He turned up the electric fan. He listened to the far off street vendors, whose voices sounded like a swordfight: “Bollos!” “Watermelons!” “Fish!” “Melons!” “Newspapers!” “I sharpen knives!” “Air, cheap air!”

A hot panting in his face woke him up. It was his dog breathing on him. He pinched his arms to make sure this was true. He leaned over to the porch and petted the dog. A colorful kite flew in the blue sky.

Also in this section:

Bernal, Panama and China
Falun Gong, Should the world boycott the Beijing Olympics?
Leis, The privatization of air
Carpio, Disaster reduction: made in Japan
James, Disaster relief in the Caribbean Basin
Pilgrim, Don't roll the dice on decent values and their opposite
Sánchez, Venezuela turns its attention from MERCOSUR to the Andean nations
Reporters Without Borders, Cuba arrests six journalists in 24 hours

Jackson, Blues power

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