Selected Extracts from the Codex.
“Fragments from the Fire”
Malls
Shopping malls were their profane temples. The mannequins, raised like altars, embodied the models to follow. Their absent faces, silenced voices, and abolished inner worlds were the ideal imposed upon them: wandering dolls, with no life beyond the choice of a garment, no growth beyond a change of wrapping.
TV
Disguised as leisure, the spectacle served as propaganda for a foreign lifestyle: Colourful wardrobes, lacquered pompadours, and the dream of driving a Droni Mustang Convertible down avenues that didn’t exist.
Those characters weren’t just entertainment: they were social totems, leaders of gatherings, bearers of the final word and emotional compasses for a generation without teachers, without elders to tell stories, without unscripted pedagogy. The group’s cool guy, the class beauty, the funny one who always knew what to say—they all occupied the symbolic space that once belonged to the wise man, the grandfather, the teacher. They didn’t just show how to dress or kiss: they taught how to live, how to react, how to desire. What was “in” and what was “out.” What was “cool” and what was “not cool.”
And while they did so, they distracted from the theft of wheat, the plundering of olives, the proliferation of processed food, and the mental isolation sandwiched between screens and routines. They were false beacons in a programmed night—but they shone so brightly that many mistook them for the sun.
Artifices
Before their eyes, an entire array of artifices was installed—not to enhance vision, but to obstruct encounter. Filters, projections, algorithms, figures: an arsenal of interference designed to distort the gaze, so that the other no longer appeared as a face, but as data.
Parade
The Son was cast into the abyss, while at the summit they enthroned their stars— inflated with cachet, idols of vainglory, crowned not by virtue, but by pomp, fanfare, and spectacle.
And so, the peak became a parade, and the abyss, a cradle for those who still knew how to see without applause.
Precede judgment
For a memory tracker to fulfil their function without deviation, without falling into distractions or excessive compassion toward the supervised, it was essential to uphold an oppressive pyramidal structure. There was no other way. I myself was monitored by supervisors of supervisors, in a chain of control that kept us aligned, each link diluting its responsibility in the universal mantra: “I’m just following orders.”
Another way to prevent deviation was more subtle: definition preceded judgment. A “terminological occupation” that allowed us to label humanity as a “potential threat” before even attempting to understand it. Thus, language became a tool of amputation. What wasn’t named precisely could be erased without guilt.
Gospel
The Gospel of the Green Fire was like pure water and royal blood, passed from cup to cup to ignite memory.