viernes, 3 de marzo de 2006

Sargones del mundo, uníos

En un libro muy interesante sobre los sumerios descubrí que Sargón fue un personaje histórico, no un primo de Gilgamesh o algo así como yo creía.

Sargón no se llamaba Sargón, sino que se cambió el nombre al llegar al trono y reinó sobre los acadios con ese nombre, que significa "El rey legítimo".

Lo cual cuenta una historia bastante clara sobre la forma en que Sargón tomó el poder, a poco que deseemos escucharla. No hay que olvidar que Sargón empezó su carrera política como jardinero.

Así que la intoxicación informativa no es cosa inventada por nosotros. Esto nos debería consolar de sucesos vergonzosos como que los organizadores de una manifestación y un partido político digan que asistieron 1 700 000 personas y la policía nacional diga que fueron 110 000.

Esto alcanza extremos ridículos y seriamente irresponsables. Para lograr una mayor eficiencia, propongo lo siguiente:

-Todo el mundo se queda en casa
-Se graban en estudio unas tomas del frente de la manifestación con la pancarta y luego se insertan en un fondo del paseo de la Castellana, o lo que sea.
-Se sacan en los telediarios intercalándolas con imágenes de archivo de cualquier otra manifestación.
-Cada cual da la cifra de asistentes que le viene en gana.

Al fin y al cabo, es lo mismo que hacen ahora.

5 comentarios:

Sr. R dijo...

¡¡¡Maaaaaaaal!!! ¡¡MUY MAL!! Hay que barrer para casa. Si desea ud. proponer algo, proponga que den un valor aleatorio. Al menos así las bofetadas políticas nos servirían para comer.
Un saludo desde Holanda.

Jago dijo...

Ah, you discount the passion. I once dressed up as a parody conservative politician, complete with moth-eaten bombín (decades out of fashion, even for the most conservative)a blue rosette, and blue ink on my legs to camouflage the holes in the trousers of my only suit; and kept pace with a Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament demonstration (of which I was a committed supporter), braying warlike slogans from the other side of the street. Despite the ridiculousness of my disguise and because people needed someone to vent their righteous fury on, the more aggressive first muttered, then shouted, then started to push me around. I felt I was on the verge of being beaten to the ground and trampled to a pulp when a friend, a lovely and statuesque lady with a large CND sign across her bosom, came and linked arms with me and said I was not the devil incarnate, only an eccentric dressed up to look like him.

Pedro Terán dijo...

Your story is a very fine one, specially the ink on the legs.

Of course you have a point, but my point is that the media will make many MILLIONS believe that the marchers where very few or quite a lot, independently of how many they actually were. Only THOUSANDS of marchers will have first-hand, reliable knowledge.

Nowadays politics is done for the media. During the Wednesday parliament sessions, politicians speak not to each other but to the TV cameras.

I admit that this is a bit different in the UK in that Blair and whoever is now in front of him engage in something similar to a debate, but I guess it's the same as here for those whose role is merely to stand up every now and then and ask, "Hey Tony, what about my constituency?"

Jago dijo...

You are right - and I think what the UK parliament does only has the faintest resemblance to debate, most ot it is either sycophancy or infantile point scoring. Strangely, the true debate takes place in the Upper Chamber, which is still partly hereditary, medieval (there are ex-officio bishops and judges) and uneleceted. They quite cosistently delay authoritarian legislation from Blair's contingent law generator.
I came across the word Bayesian yesterday, quite funny, here
http://books.guardian.co.uk/comment/story/0,,1725415,00.html

Pedro Terán dijo...

The link is fantastic!