If I listen well, I can still hear the music. Maybe I even like it. If we go away for a while, I don’t rule out that we will have a good time. The newspapers say it: there is a “rave” nearby. On the afternoon of the 31st, we, the forties and … With the young children, we joke about leaving the New Year’s Eve table and rushing outside. We could have some good dancing, girls. Down with the old party favors and old grapes, make way for the party in the great outdoors. We know all the ways to get there. No one guarantees that we will. In fact, we haven’t heard about “rave” in the headlines. It was a few days ago. For a baby. He had to be taken to the pediatric intensive care unit. Flight. But the convoy “rave”. And the cuts. And the controls. Did they move the damn regional hospital away?
The neighborhood’s roads are heavily monitored and the flow of travel is lighter than the rest of the year. It’s because of the rave. With factories and schools on vacation, people are moving, eliminating emergencies, for leisure and family. Another friend is going to dinner in a neighboring town (hence, “rave”). He also doesn’t know if it will happen. It’s just a family celebration. Less important than the intubated baby. And what about “rave”? If they don’t hurt anyone. Already. They stoned the Civil Guard. Things are also happening in the cities. There are never too many agents. This is why the “rave” comes to rural areas. On the ground. Our biologist friend asks how they are going to leave him. We hadn’t even thought about it, wondering if we should rush to the hospital. Or if there is an accident – there was one –. Let’s see how ambulances access it. Cities are so cool for raves. Tourism of France, the Netherlands. Last year at Ciudad Real. This, in Albacete. Not other things, but the big data of raves reaches here.
In recent years we have seen this stupid trend of telling people what they should do, what they should be, what they should aspire to be. Organize “raves”? To host macro-farms? Macrodischarges? There is so much green consciousness about the environment, but not about how people who live in the middle of the environment live.
Since last year, people have been recommending books. I’m going with a chapter. The last of “The Age of Predators”, by Giuliano da Empoli. The author tells how the tranquility of the small town of Lieusaint, near Paris, was interrupted, by surprise, by a nest of cars which invades its streets at certain hours. It’s because of Waze. The application recommends it to save a few minutes of belt traffic. Desperate, the mayor tried to install traffic lights and… even talk to someone from the “app”! He found neither interlocutors nor those responsible. At the end? Nothing, he couldn’t do anything. Like the mayors with the “raves”: just look at our cities being strangled by algorithms.
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