C'EST LA GUERRE (11)

The Ministry of Grants in M17 + M1 was occupied by our forces. Then we ordered to all officials and people inside that they were coming out of the Ministry hands up as prisoners of war. That is normal in such cases. It was four o'clock in the morning but there, they worked from dawn to dusk in such a way that the Ministry worked 24 hours a day as a hospital, for example, but was during nighttime hours when there was more activity and more people entering and leaving. Another explanation would be that 90% of the grants amount was for the official´s pocket directly, who had managed the grant. Therefore so much work and so many hours overtime.
When the first prisoners arrived at the door, all they began screaming hysterically as if possessed and they turned back returning to the Ministry . We didn´t know what to do. In fact, they weren´t fleeing. The opposite: they returned to their jobs; most probably they realized that be taken prisoner, made them to lose money. Before they returned to enter the building, we caught a small group who told us that for nothing of the world they will abandon their work places, they could not conceive of a world where everyone lives of their work and where only the needy receive institutional aid and some solutions. One told us even that the most savage that he had lived was to award a grant and take for himself 90%. I've never seen a sunset, — he added — I think such thing, would not give me more than disgust... — And finally, with an expresion supposedly mysterious or confidential the official added: our army is heavily subsidized. We don´t know about the crisis, but subsidizing we cause it.


Then snipers and regrouped forces heavily subsidized according to the official, began a pincer movement quite dangerous and malicious. As I am field marshal I saw clearly that the ministry of grants was very important to them. They advanced shouting:

— Grant or death ..! Grant or death..! —

Advancing fanatically. But as I am field marshal, I didn´t got nervous despite the grave situation.. So I faced the serious situation and then I gave coldly my subsequent orders. Our positions were around the Ministry, where the enemy attacks converged from twenty different points, unanimously I think. I ordered to leave our positions step by step, so that the enemy, was able to contact again with the ministry building, which had returned to subsidize all performance ... desperately. It's a solid neoclassical building of the early twentieth century. Initially it was The Ministry of Love to Vatican. Strange country
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My superiors require from me a non-politicized report, about the already famous demolition of the Ministry of Grants, of this unfortunate country. My superiors emphasize that they want an objective report, not politicized and that they know me already.

In part they are right since objectivity and politics can rarely coincide. But power and "something else" always coincide. Sullenly I call my secretary and I dictate a few paragraphs while she writes. She is faster than me: whenever I look her, she is almost distracted, in a position of waiting for my words, my "diktat" (diktat.. it sounds good.. I always get excited for any nonsense ...) as if she, instead of listening, were painting hearts with an arrow. Or huge penises, dripping proudly (it´s what some kids do).

I dictate perfectly: hands behind, striding through the huge office with my head down. The design of the carpet tells me when I must stop and turn around. Sometimes, I direct my steps towards her, for I to be sure, looking over her shoulder, that, indeed, she is writing what I am dictating for my superiors. I'm a field marshal but still I have some superiors .. (I'm back to get excited) Of course, we must recognize that the work of Neanderthals is very exciting. She is beautiful but she has an impressive efficiency, that is, she is Cro-Magnon, a hundred percent.

She leaves the office with her shorthand notes and I stay hanging on the wall clock....  the clock is time and the wall, space .... and suddendly I have her in front of me with the typed documents of the report for the Superiority. I look up to her and it´s like I could see the space-time governed by a fairy- empress that governs the universe. In addition, she is also "curved". I think the whole like an unfathomable beauty. Rationality became the reality, and forever. It´s no bad to be Cro-Magnon.

I'm signing the documents that she is putting in front me for this purpose. Something like the attentive and timely pianist helper, turning the sheet properly.

Then it occurs to me that the report could be written on a nice red paper .. but I dare not tell it her. My superiors ... you know ...

I will tell you the demolition of the Ministry of Grants, which as I said, was the only ministry of this ancient country, although all the countries have the same time.