L ' Ubermaschinenmensch Hel opens its eyes to the world, in a throne of neon lit by a pentacle.
She looks at me. The weight of his gaze, beyond the screen, crushing me and I shrinks even more, in my chair, picnic in the dark.
I can not even tell if we are few or many, this afternoon screening of Metropolis . The room is small enough to seem full. Similarly, its own petty rows of chairs made of plastic, which are nailed film buffs who do not bite into a pop-corn, even by mistake, they all look to experience for a few close friends.
Mind you, not the Metropolis you're used to. E 'to Moroder, sepia music for the eighties. Tamarro , we call it here, without even wanting too see as a flaw. When the contours of
Oneiros dream began to fade, the drawing of the woman of iron has been the only thing still in my memory, along with the words thrown down in a hurry a chapter ago.
And when I read the projection of Metropolis, in a nearby community center, it seemed the only possible way to have some contact with a virgin robot.
Never been a type from the symbolism too refined, I will.
do not even know why they put under review. One explanation is: only a year ago, have made a lot 'of around projections on the discovery of who knows how many feet of film unpublished. Maybe, just arrived here are a bit 'late to ride the wave.
Another explanation: there is a projection because the plot that I am creating it was provided. Reasonable.
has subtitles in English. It 'exactly the same version that I downloaded from the internet I also.
Thus, while the face of Hel overlaps with that of the innocent Mary, creating a woman from the look much more oblique and bewitched, someone whispers in my ear a phrase, the chair just behind me.
"Do not look back. Listen to me and that's it. I know who you are and what you do"
am a little 'in silence. I nod. Meanwhile, before me, Dr. Rotwang - the scientist who created the woman robot - raises her hand pretending to claw the air in a gesture of triumph.
"Now I'll tell you two things. You shut up and listen."
The voice seems to roll words into one, music, hoarse whisper. Looks like a kid after all.
"You've already met the agents of consistency, right? Yes true, true. I need not nod. I hate people who nods.
" So I tell you this. Once there was a group of criminals Storytellers. It was the first to invent the use of sacred nickname by which baptized after the Rite of Babel. It was not just a matter of safety, they said. It was a way to demonstrate that our identity is not important that we tell what is important and not what we are.
"Therefore, instead of names, were baptized with the figures"
Hel, in its new version of Mary-Harlot-Babylon-dancing tits to the wind in the Yoshiwara district. For a moment, while they are concentrated to hear the story behind me, I have groped the irrational hope that desire, destroy, just me. But no, of course. Already has his audiences in the film.
Here She Comes, during his exploits in glowing eyes and fake seven-headed dragon.
"It was not over - the voice goes on - taught us that things change. Changing the stories, people change tells her. Laughed at Storytellers who came before them, of their being so tied to his personality, the role and attributes. They told us of being guerrillas, terrorists and revolutionaries of the noun. Encouraged us to share our names, to be a strange and shadowy power made of all-e-no.
"We liked it. Being none, he made us feel someone.
" Well, you said that things must change for the better. We got worse so thin, so thin that you do not have the time to notice it.
"Slowly, we saw them speak more and more often overlapped each other. When one starts a sentence, the other continued, another termination. It was annoying. He must be annoying for them, because the sentences began to be pronounced a little 'easier.
"This is just . This is not right. Okay . not good. The timing was dull and colorless. As one of the monks in monasteries. The faces, more and more white and thin. In lap of the week, it seemed that someone had already given a strip of rubber on their faces, to mess up the features. Within a month, the faces had turned completely white.
"Obviously, we care. We tried to call them by name. Bring her to him. Indeed, to hurt them. None. In a desperate attempt, we tried to divide them, abducting one.
"He wriggled like a madman. Kicked from all sides and continued to yell: are not a person! Are not a person, I am a number!
" You know what to do now? Help in raids against us. They entered the Other Side. They have become agents of Coherence "
wait a bit. 'I take a deep breath, and Metropolis is devastated by a flood in which people drowning in time Love Kills.
" Why are you telling me this? "The
voice breathes a laugh in my ear.
"Why is it our fault if you are so low. We made our teachers, our old friends essays . Bullshit. We did not see the truth. "
" And what is the truth? "
" We all become agents of consistency as they move forward. We all storytellers. The more our voice comes up, as there are people who listen to us and believe in what we do, the more tempted to switch to the other Party becomes untenable.
"We had to remove them in time. We should eliminate you. We should throw all under a train.
" You know what is the only moral imperative that is ours? DO. ALL. IL. MALE. POSSIBLE "
" The idea I like. But you're not even trying to teach you something now? "
The voice behind me is a laugh that slips into a hoarse sound, just like his voice. I fancy something back and low down, vertebra by vertebra. A nail very long, I would say.
Then, the voice whispers a word in my ear.
The word is the next step.
