Brazil Persuasive Speech Analysis

Harakiri

“Every day I just think that I need to stop,” ah, yes, I apologize, I had forgotten. Since his explicit support for the PT party in the last elections, one cannot quote the wonderful Brazilian composer Chico Buarque anymore, he’s no longer considered politically correct. I even thought about entitling this chronicle “2014: the Year in Which Chico Buarque was Banned,” but I feared I would be criticized for some poorly explained historical backlash, oh, well, this was years ago, during the military dictatorship. Oh, no, back then it was not Chico, but Julinho da Adelaide; Chico’s poetry always soared, a life recipe to entertain us above any impeding rule.
There. Brazil today is so morally relativized that some people have been yearning

— in public, imagine — for the return of the “years of lead,” according to them only a rifle upfront could fix this mess in which the country has collapsed, but they don’t really mean it, do they? I mean, they don’t really want to militarize the discipline.
Nevertheless, I would like to see some kind of prank where Ms. Rousseff would be kneeling on uncooked corn in front of Castro’s paredón, asking for perdón, just for the fun of it. Let’s face it. After the recent opening of the Cuban ports by the “King of the United States,” the firing squad became a museum piece, a completely anachronistic absurdity depicted on the wall of the Colosseum, where weakened lions and gladiators, all addicted to computer wargames, say goodbye to their official lifelong robbery, as they cross the Rubicon in the opposite direction. Long live the Tropical Crook’s leadership, sorry, folks.
Once all legal obstacles were conveniently put together, I mean, put aside, they were perfectly enmeshed into a patronistic, oops, a paternalistic employment project, say, society, stuck with no respectability in sight into the bag of political favors distributed by the “leniency cartel.”
Okay. I too am too fed up in this year’s end(game), eager to declare on this terminal weekend a kind of holiday shutdown to all my selves.
Actually, 2014 was the year of my “escape,” when I realized the dream of 9 out of 10 insomniacs Brazilians, and shoved the faithful citizenship into the laundry bag (please spare me the metaphor this time). By the way, what does “citizenship” really mean? But having landed in this safe haven I still couldn’t bring myself to surrender to any desired sense of stability, my heart being painfully buried at the wounded crossroads of currency exchange, thus postponing the supposedly peaceful adaptation, caramba, not to mention previously undertaken credit commitments.
In summary, I still can’t feel relieved from the imposing “Brazil effect.”
Okay.

I’m too neurotic, I admit. A brief invitation is enough for having me co-opted by any new routine obligation, and now, to top it all, I find myself addicted to the broadcasted serial crimes committed in the name of the people. Brazil has become the punching bag of institutionalized corruption, having also acquired a bad name in the globalized stock exchange. Most of all, we have to deal with the daily embarrassment of our “leader” (and the leader of our leader, por qué no te callas and so on and so forth), who puts herself above any suspicion proven by Justice.
Every day she does everything the same way: she shakes the unblemished morals and appears in the headlines with a broad smile, promising the reckless Brazilian people to “restore national confidence.” I understand that at this tipping point of the plea bargain, it would be risky to embark on the ship of convicts; she would be settling for political suicide, albeit a honorable one. What else could she do?
It’s truly, sadly tough. Has the world changed or is it just me? Even inside the spectrum of the rising sun, harakiri is not done as it used to be; on the contrary, we shamelessly give in to their hackers’ demands in the name of terrorizing our sense of grace, one can no longer mock our inhumanity without being threatened by some dubious understanding of how low it can

get.
Anyway, these vile acts of cyberwar, one way or another, will have to stop one day, maybe through a cultural pièce de résistance generously sponsored by the world domination of motivational literature.
Honestly, if one loses the freedom to criticize bad government, as one would like, what kind of democracy would be left? This said, you must understand, it’s all comedy. But, of course, down below things gets really confusing.
Let’s face it: today I lost my way. Because in this dawning of 2015, as the whole country, I mean, whole countries have lost the mere notion of social correctness, overlapping the logic that should give reality its direction, my brain feels exhausted, turned into a bowl of sticky macaroni & cheese by cooking in excess the information we share on a daily basis.
Spare me. I don’t care about anything else, not even the exhilarating sparkling of New Year’s champagne. Therefore, I’m temporarily turning off the herding switch.
See you later! Have a nice Sunday!