The Age of the << Third World >>

Heaps upon heaps of garbage, left to themselves by the side of the street; with rows of squat houses without colored façades all the color of dust. Thin cats – keeping pace with quasi-human hands – from garbage heap to garbage heap, they roam. Metal verses – like pieces of shrapnel – from the minaret are being hurled over the neighborhood; but without effect on the thick swarm of flies that together like a big black ball fall to the ground, rise up and return again to the ground of the garbage heaps, and return again onto human faces. The air – trapped, dust-laden – has thrown its heavy body over the "city" a dry city from which only oil barrels, corpses and fanaticism were exported. Here the pen and the electric train came to a halt. The Middle Ages set out...