October 27, 2017

Prologue

"We have not been misled by any evil product of human skill or by any idol smeared with different colors. The sight of such things arouses the passions of foolish people and makes them desire a dead, lifeless image."  

Wisdom 15, 4-5


"I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws."

Ezekiel 36:25-27

Prologue


It was almost 5 PM of a cold winter afternoon that promised a beautiful sunset over the Copacabana Sea.
The former Socopenapã beach was only a desert area filled with cashew trees when, at the beginning of the 16th century, a small chapel was erected on a cliff to house the image of a saint. Traders from Rio de Janeiro, called “peruleiros” due to their routine of going and coming to the Viceroyalty of Peru, brought in one of these trips the image of Kopa Kawana, an Our Lady in the image of an Inca princess. The Castilian filter modified it to “Copacabana”, word that means luminous place or lookout of the blue. The statuette had dark skin and a light blue and gold dress. Her first home in Rio was one of the side altars of the Church of Mercy on the Morro do Castelo.

Religious differences made the saint lose her place in the Church of Mercy and her destiny was a small church far, far away, built by the sea specially to shelter her. Over time, this chapel designated the beach and the neighborhood. The chapel came to be demolished in 1914, to be erected, in its place, the Fort of Copacabana. The image of the saint that is currently in the church that bears her name, in Serzedelo Correia Square, is the same, the original.
Eternalized in the music of João de Barro, the "Braguinha", especially in the voice of Dick Farney, Copacabana, a Princesinha do Mar, has become known worldwide and is one of the great tourist attractions of Rio de Janeiro and Brazil.
*        *        *
Sunlight was pouring through the clouds as if trying to cast them out to let the Sun rules majestically the entire celestial vault. It was in afternoons like that one that she used to appear. The Lady of the Window had become an urban legend that circulated among the tribes that frequented the beachfront of Copacabana. Some passersby were already standing on the sidewalk and looked up to find the window of the fourth floor of an old building. There were even those who brought binoculars or cameras with high zoom lenses in search of a better image of the beautiful woman. Few people knew for certain which the correct window was, and they scoured the front of the older buildings on the block, which contrasted with the modern ones on the beachfront.
            According to reports, the Lady of the Window appeared for a few minutes on the evening afternoons when there was sunset. One of the most accepted theories considered her as the ghost of a former apartment dweller who had many years ago, perhaps decades, thrown herself out of the window in despair at the death of her beloved, and that her inconsolable spirit remained trapped in the place. The apartment would have been vacant ever since - no lights were ever seen at night in their rooms. Mr. Alcides, a porter who worked for decades in the building, avoided touching the subject, but the gossip was that he confirmed to an already dead resident that there was really a strange love story involving the Lady of the Window.
Rumors circulated that on some nights the neighbors of the apartment heard footsteps in the hallway or the noise of objects being knocked down inside the apartment. Despite numerous attempts to catch the woman, she had never been seen. No one knew who was the owner of the property. Although all the fees were paid promptly, no one came to inspect it.
A homeless woman, believer and assiduous frequenter of the many Catholic Churches in the neighborhood, said she had received a divine annunciation and she supported the fact that the apparition in the Angelus was a Saint. Our Lady of Copacabana, patroness of the waters and of the neighborhood, appeared to ask for the repentance of the prostitutes, addicts, delinquents, corrupt and other sinners who infested the neighborhood mainly at night. The supposed divine revelation did not gather many followers - the time of the appearance of Saints had already passed...
Fans of the cold draft beer, irreverent goers of the kiosks and pubs of the region raised the possibility that it could be a seductive mermaid caught by a successful businessman and fisherman who would have trapped her in his apartment and kept her immersed in a huge whirlpool bath to take bath salts and serve him in sexual orgies.
He would have disappeared into the sea on one of his fishing trips and the mermaid had come since then to the window at the end of the day to await the return of her abductor in the hope of regaining her freedom. Another variant of this theory associated the Lady of the Window with the Orisha Iemanjá - divinity of the sea of Afro-Brazilian religions and protector of fishermen and sinners, thus expanding the religious syncretism of Kopa Kawana.
Iemanjá is celebrated with a great party during the passage of the New Year. Thousands of people dressed in white gather in Copacabana to sing and give Yemoja white roses and objects placed in Styrofoam boats that are set loose in the waves.
The Lady of the Window was also revered in the famous sand sculptures, one of the highlights of Copacabana and what contributes for making it the most famous beach in Rio de Janeiro. These sand artists, who work in exchange for the recognition of tourists through financial contributions, portrayed the Lady of the Window sensuously and always with her gaze lost on the high seas.
The most rational ones argued that everything was nothing more than the invention of disqualified people: drunkards, proletarians, idlers, and fanatics of all ideologies. They claimed that such woman would be just a chore girl doing the periodic cleaning of the apartment. Or perhaps everything would have been an optical illusion provoked by the sun's rays that penetrated the apartment late in the afternoon. It was refraction in the dust particles suspended in the air or in the dirt window pane that created an optical phenomenon where each one saw what he wanted to.
That afternoon, once again the Lady of the Window did not disappoint her faithful admirers. The curious and the dreamers have caught a glimpse of the silhouette of a woman of dazzling beauty behind the window pane, illuminated by the last rays of the sun. She stood still for a few minutes, her gaze lost on the encounter of the sky and sea. Excessively romantic people persisted in stating that a tear had rolled down her face. And as before, she lowered her eyes and slowly retreated into the shadows of the apartment as the last reddish gleams on the horizon dissipated in the rapidly falling darkness.
It was night.

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      Socopenapã - “The path of socós", in the Tupi language – Socó is a kind of bird, heron. ^RETORNAR

   The Angelus occurs at three times daily: 6:00 am, noon, and 6:00 pm, usually accompanied by the ringing of a bell, which is a call to prayer and to spread good-will to everyone. The angel referred to in the prayer is Gabriel, a messenger of God who revealed to Mary that she would conceive a child to be born the Son of God. Derives from the phrase: Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariæ – "... the Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary ..." ^RETORNAR


Chapter I: The White Queen




















"Here is Rebekah; take her and go, and let her become the wife of your master’s son, as the Lord has directed." 
Genesis 24:51


"The Queen is the most valuable and important piece and the whole outcome can depend upon how successfully she plays her role." 
Grandmaster Alexander Kotov


Chapter I: The White Queen


My memory has always been amazing. Often it was necessary to ignore it, to try to turn it off, to avoid the nuisance of having my mind bombarded by a multitude of details, most of which were of no relevance and which took away the focus on the main issues. I was always struck by the precise memory of numbers, odors, sounds, and distant images returning as if they were occurring again. Sometimes, when meeting again a teacher which taught in my class three years before, immediately came to my mind her first apparition: the clothes she wore, her expressions and first words, her perfume… And that distracted me, making me lose myself in the labyrinth of these memories. Nowadays, everything is confused and scrambled, but the memories have not been lost, they remain hidden in some obscure corner and return disordered. Right now, looking at the picture frame at the head of the bed, once again came to my mind the first encounter with that woman, which unexpectedly became so decisive for me. It happened one afternoon on the fifteenth of August, a sunny Thursday...
I was anxiously waiting for the bell to ring. It was unnecessary… She would certainly be as punctual as ever. It was still twenty minutes to the appointed time. I thought about turning on the computer and distracting myself so time would pass faster, but the idea didn't sound appealing. My mind wandered through the memories and brought out the details of how I had met her.
Rebeca, that was the name she gave me, though she said I could call her any other I'd like. At first, I didn't like the name. I found the coincidence a bad omen, but I chose to leave it as it was, and quickly put away the superstitious thought, an inclination that eventually manifested itself and which so annoyed me.
Since that first afternoon, there have been many other encounters. The sensuality, the perspicacity, and the provocative manner of Rebecca made me completely forget about the recent breakup of the engagement, on the eve of marriage. The state of apathy in which I was at the time discouraged me from seeking female companionship or anyone else's. I had been rather reluctant to visit the e-Venus page, an indication of a friend who was enthusiastic about the quality of the its service. In its advertisements, the company guaranteed to have attendants able to satisfy at least 90% of the qualities desired by the most demanding customers. The facts proved that it was right.
At first I was annoyed to make use of that solution again. I remembered that when I was a child I used to hear my uncles chatting about the times when they sought out escort service in the newspapers. Times have changed, new habits and new technologies have emerged, but in essence, the situation was the same.
The choice of the girl's features reminded me of my little sister, dressing her Barbie doll. I also decided to amuse myself by setting up the ideal woman, since the many I dated proved to be lacking in the essential qualities I appreciated. With the tip of my index finger, I dragged the colored ellipses with adjectives in the monitor screen. I dropped them into an image of a woman that transformed as the characteristics were added: silhouette, mignonette; hair, medium and brown; biotype, Latina; Stature, median; age group, 20 to 25 years; voice, soft, with a slight Bahian accent ... I also added psychological characteristics: aggressiveness, initiative, curiosity, sense of humor ... Damn, so many details available to stage a piece so banal! I could ignore the items I wanted to, of course, and most customers were probably content with just looks and sensuality - everything else was for those who demanded more refinement, which increased the cost of the service.
The button that would send the data with the elaborated profile twinkled in the lower corner of the screen demanding for an attitude. Still undecided, I touched the button. A sensual female voice, probably digitally synthesized, recited the customary message:
“It is a great pleasure to serve you. Please, wait a moment. Our computers are processing your request.” 
After an imperceptible pause, miserable milliseconds in which thousands of information traveled between computers, I received the answer.
“Congratulations! We have an attendant who satisfies the desired profile in 93%. Provide the credit card number to confirm the order and schedule the meeting.”
Ah, there also was a window displaying the contract for the provision of the service, which should be heard or read carefully, and accepted to validate the negotiation. Reluctantly, I recited the credit card number and, without reading the contract completely, I looked at the camera pinned above the monitor to confirm my identification by examining the iris.
In the hours before the meeting, I still thought about canceling the program with the girl, even though I had to pay a 10% fine on the value of the service. From the beginning, I considered the price of the program high, but the curiosity and the good references compelled me to keep the commitment. Besides, I wanted to get out of the boredom I was in at any cost.

*     *      *
I looked at my watch again. There were still twelve minutes to go... My mind kept wandering through memories. I remembered the first time when the bell rang announcing Rebeca. Agitated, I opened the door abruptly. In front of me, a young woman stood still, bearing a welcoming smile. Although I had received a photo in advance, I was struck by the beauty and delicacy of her features. There was a magical gleam in her gaze, which brimmed with shrewdness and conveyed a feeling of a naive and sincere joy. I felt confused, mesmerized... It was as if I had known her for a long time and was waiting for her.
“Hi, I'm Rebecca. We have a date.” The young woman presented herself laconically in a gentle voice and brought her face closer to a kiss on the cheek.
She exuded a pleasant and sensual odor. She kissed my face gently, and with her closeness I could admire her smooth skin which bared no imperfections. I led her into the apartment.
I activated the media player, which played a soft oriental song that I had selected for the occasion. I thought about offering her a glass of wine, but I remembered that she probably would not accept it or perhaps she would accept it just to please me. As for me, I had to drink something to relax. I picked up on the table the Stonier, a red Pinot Noir whose label attributed elegance, sensuality and softness - suited the situation well. I poured myself some wine in one of the goblets by the bottle. While I tasted the wine, I watched the woman intently. She wore a knee length dress, fit in the waist, which molded her body emphasizing the sinuosity of her curves. Her harmonious and sensual movements hypnotized me. The wine always increased my excitement. The Stonier, although not among the best of the Pinot Noir variety, was one of my favorites and, as one sommelier would say, it came down velvety and tranquil.
I was delighted, eager to slip my hands on that slender body with such precise curves. Embarrassed, I asked her to undress. Without showing any signs of surprise, she slowly and without vulgarity took off the pieces of clothing she wore and tossed them gently on the couch. She moved in a slow dance, improvised in the rhythm of the melody that flooded the room. Excited, I took her in my arms and carried her to the bed in the next room.
I tried to control my anxiety to better enjoy the moment. As I slid my hands over the woman's perfect body, I pressed lightly my fingertips over her skin, feeling the variation of softness and stiffness so carefully distributed. At the contact of the bodies, all anxiety and resistance slowly dissipated and I relaxed and dissolved my consciousness in the waves of pleasure I felt. She led me through this sea, sometimes serene, sometimes agitated, anticipating my desires. I could not expect less from someone whose reason to exist was this. It was as if the woman were touching me completely, wrapping me with her hands, her arms, her legs - in a cadenced motion, stimulating my senses and making my mind fade. Sated and exhausted, I fell into a deep and restful sleep.
We talked a little in that first afternoon. I told her about my ex-fiancée... She asked questions and made some nice comments - would she be genuinely interested in what I told her or was it all staged?
Contrary to my initial intention of doing just one test, I scheduled a new encounter, then another, and another... The intimacy grew with each new contact and she guessed me more and more. It was as if we had known each other for many years. Without any doubt, e-Venus's commitment of satisfying my expectations was exceeded by considerable margin.
Despite being so enchanted, I was aware that Rebeca could never be mine, she belonged to everyone, or rather, to whoever wanted and could pay for her attention. It is a well-known fact that throughout the history of humanity, clients cling to women who sell their love and affection. But it is a sign of the times, the decadence of modern technological society, that they continue to fall in love to them, even knowing that they are machines built for pleasure.
I was awakened from my daydream by the loud ringing of the doorbell...



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October 26, 2017

Chapter II: Brave New World

















"O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, that has such people in't!

The tempest, Shakespeare


"There isn't such a mystery as ten murders as in a game of Chess." 

Grandmaster A. Rubinstein


Chapter II: Brave New World


The novelty was recent. The product, result of decades of research agglutinating the knowledge of the most varied areas of science, was launched in Japan in less than a year. Although they were within the reach of only a privileged minority, the cyberlovers quickly occupied the imaginary of the people. And it was already available in the Tupiniquins land, fully adapted to local conditions, offered by the misterious e-Venus company. Many wished at any cost to savor the novelty and spared no effort to fulfill this dream - they committed the month's wages, sold personal goods and even borrowed money to experience the latest capitalist temptation.


The price of the service was high, but it would certainly be reduced, as had happened with high technology gadgets released earlier. It was anticipated that in the near future, perhaps in less than a decade, it would be within the reach of middle-class individuals to have their own cybergirl or cyberboy molded to their tastes.
More and more closed in themselves, repressed by the violence of large cities and victims of growing self-centeredness, individuals became more detached and isolated - an easy prey for this novelty. There were studies already predicting that most people would choose to give up completely the relationship with human partners as soon as the cyberlovers became viable.
The customers of cyberlovers were not limited to lonely and individualistic people who did not want to compromise; they were mainly those who demanded privacy and security. Politicians, executives of large companies, artists and even religious people had found the ideal solution in the cyberlovers - public figures who had an image to watch over and did not want to expose themselves or risk being involved in scandals. The service was also highly requested by those who did not assume their homosexuality, avoiding being victims of blackmail, violence and habitual indiscretions caused by partners or sex workers.
The apparent security of these relationships also concealed a threat. Despite the vehement denials from e-Venus, it was believed that everything that happened during the encounters were recorded and transmitted in real time to the company. e-Venus argued that this was their way of protecting the client and the physical integrity of the droids and guarding against possible lawsuits. There was the promise of secrecy, the soul of any business, but there were fears of such files and the possible consequences of their use.
As always, the novelty has generated controversy. Soon, a strong rejection towards the humanoids arose in several sectors of society. Initially by means of black humor and with refinements of sadism or mockery, alarmists and jokers on duty spread rumors in bars, clubs and mainly in the Internet with the report of accidents caused by androids in the genitals of the clients. In humorous programs, jokes and sketches proliferated by exploring the relationship of humans to humanoids, addressing issues such as: could the concept of rape be applied to an android, or would such an act be just a case of property infringement? Could humanoids protect themselves, even if they had to use physical force against humans?
Sensationalist and police newspapers displayed daily footages accompanying curious, some even comical, cases of clients attempting to kidnap or incite the escape of their "Juliet" or their "Romeo" cybernetic counterparts. Rumors were even circulated about crimes of passion, although real cases were not reported in the mainstream media - it was assumed that they were spending a lot of money to cover up these cases.
Supporters of the novelty argued that cyberlovers were harmless, and they were no more than animated versions of the obsolete inflatable dolls so tolerated at other times and then relegated to oblivion. On the other hand, the inflamed speech of the pastors of the various evangelical churches, especially of the powerful Universal Church, compared this type of relationship to zoophilia and bestiality. The androids were described as monstrous creatures: Man, playing God, desired to create a being in his image and likeness and, as a punishment, begotten a demon. Androids would be evil servants who enslaved the mind - simulacra without soul, who pretended to have feelings and tenderness. The evangelical churches already offered special sessions to exorcize individuals bewitched by this new demonic manifestation, by a generous financial contribution, obviously.
The government reacted to the novelty by prohibiting the transit of androids in public places. People feared the reprisal of reactionary groups that preached the return to the traditional customs and the attachment to the family. Most radical groups were still content with only threats, although it was foreseeable that violence would soon escalate. The droids, for safety reasons, stopped moving by taxi and started using vehicles owned by e-Venus.
The industry counterattacked. To improve the acceptance of the automata, they disseminated in various media advertising campaigns showing future humanitarian applications for androids in nursing homes and hospitals. Cybernurses with angelical features appeared to medicate the elderly, helping them to move about, taking care of their personal hygiene, and always engaged in lively conversations with the patients.
Insurance companies took advantage of the business opportunity by creating specific services to deal with accidents against third parties in case the android causes damage to the physical integrity of humans or their properties.
Politicians were outdated and slow as usual, behind the social needs. However, a number of legal and ethical issues were already being raised in heated debates in NGOs and in social networks. Specific bills would already be being drafted by modernist deputies to regulate the matter.

Opinions were divided, although the radicals were more incisive and active in their militancy. Those who defended modernity were not so keen to impose their concepts, while the conservatives fought fervently to avoid the advent of the new times.
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October 25, 2017

Chapter III: The Black King

"I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come"

Genesis 17:19


"Petrosian knew how to detect and avoid the danger 20 moves before it." 

Grandmaster Bobby Fischer


Chapter III: The Black King


ISAAC de Almeida Krieger, that's my name. The surname Krieger came with my paternal grandfather, a Jew; Almeida came with my maternal grandfather from Portugal. For different reasons, both immigrated to Brazil from Europe after World War II. I was born on May 27, 1991 in Laranjeiras, one of the nicest neighborhood in Rio, where I lived until I left my parents' house.
Since childhood, I had few friends and enjoyed being alone. I used to distract myself with daydreams about marvelous adventures stimulated by the reading of epics from classical and science fiction literature and from the taste for technological achievements. My family and the few colleagues considered me as cold and calculating as my father. But they did not know me: I am extremely emotional - a characteristic that I believe I inherited from my mother and that I try to control or at least hide it.


Even with little dedication to the studies, I always stood out with good scores in all disciplines. The tests seemed so easy, it was as if the answers were already there, invisible to others, and I should just transcribe them. Classes did not hold my attention because the content taught was too simple. I assimilated the information and understood the concepts instantly and I was amazed with the difficulty of others in doing the same. It was as if they were blind, and I was the only one who could see. I used to sabotage myself. I did not use all my knowledge, thinking it would be an unfair dispute. I felt like a cheater for being so far ahead of my classmates and amused myself by leaving blank or incomplete answers, frustrating the teachers who were waiting for another one hundred percent hits. I did not want to be labeled as the nerd who always aced the tests. It was tedious to attend classes so backward, but the School regulations did not allow me to take advanced classes because they believed that the lack of maturity would make adaptation difficult and would have undesirable consequences in the future, my parents agreed.
Since the first grades I taught my classmates the most complex content. My parents were proud of how easily I explained even to adults what I've learned. However, I often lost my temper and I was annoyed by people's slowness of reasoning, which contributed even more to my isolation.
The ease of expressing myself, coupled with people's need for someone to explain things to them, naturally led me to the practice of teaching. The satisfaction of transmitting knowledge did not derive from vocation, nor from any altruistic virtue, such as charity, love of neighbor, or any crap like this. On the contrary, it was a result of the scorn I felt for people who were nothing more than a challenge to be overcome: the challenge of bringing understanding to the mediocre, and especially to the imbeciles. I considered myself a guide of the blind. If I could not get an individual to understand something, no one else would. I liked to see the sparkle in their eyes, the smile on their face when they understood, usually something so banal, but to them it was as if they had discovered the theory of relativity before Einstein. That's how I became a teacher. And I've always been considered the best teacher by the classes I've been through.

I did not share with anyone my convictions about people and life, not even with my grandparents or my mother, who were the closest and most trusted people to me. By doing so, I avoided being labeled as smug and arrogant. Although I did not care what people thought about me, I would rather not expose myself unnecessarily and avoid conflict.
At the age of sixteen, I started my degree in mechatronics engineering at UERJ, but little by little, without even knowing for sure why, I lost interest in the course. I began to dedicate myself more willingly to the philosophy course which I attended simultaneously at UFRJ, until I completely abandoned Engineering in the third year. The fact brought a great commotion to my family, especially to my father.
I graduated in philosophy and soon I began to teach in secondary schools, mainly in the respected Sion School, position obtained as a retribution of a favor granted by a friend of my father. I was very reluctant to take the job - I did not want Mr Krieger's help for he was so critic of my professional choice and my lifestyle. Only the insistence of my mother could overcome my resistance.
Despite the lack of motivation and interest in any line of research, I started a Master's program shortly after graduation. I studied for lack of a better option to occupy myself and because I enjoyed the academic life. I concluded the Master's and I began to teach in PUC and Veiga de Almeida Universities, this time, with the positions conquered by my own merit. However I did not leave the Sion where I was teaching  in high school - I carried good memories of the school I studied and of the neighborhood where it was located where I lived for so many years. Moreover, I appreciated the contact with the questioning and daring spirit of young people.
*          *          *
I was worried. I wondered if I was once again infected by the "great evil". Sure I was. I was in love, which was obviously a tragedy.
Since I was a teenager, I had fallen in love several times and the pattern was always the same: an impossible relationship. Women are too fickle and emotional - creatures of difficult coexistence, but I could not stay for long without getting involved with them. At twelve, I was a victim of this disease for the first time - a mad fixation on the literature teacher - so sweet, so beautiful, and almost thirty years older ... It happened at the end of a school year and the Christmas and the New Year’s Eve contributed to my feeling of abandonment and contempt. She did not return the following year, leaving the school and taking a piece of my heart with her. It soon regenerated when the classes resumed, but the memory of this first anguish still stirs my emotions. The next time, I lovesick for a classmate's girlfriend. I could not help the needy, solicitous glances at the girl. This time, I ended up with a black eye and being a laughing stock.
I especially fell in love with women who did not correspond to me - because they were not interested in me or because they were already well committed. On the other hand, the many women I dated, including my ex-fiancée, did not awaken in me any intense feeling, nothing but physical attraction. I did not understand why it was like this.
I considered these periodic relapses of passionateness a weakness. A kind of illness with flu-like symptoms: loss of appetite, moodiness, difficulty in concentrating, disinterest and, especially, loss of reason. Fortunately, as in the case of the flu, the period of illness and convalescence was not too long - after a few weeks it was fully recovered.
I was aware of the absurdity of involvement with Rebeca. She was an object and existed for my pleasure and for whom was willing to pay. I was tormented by the passion that consumed me: more absurd than having sex with a machine, was being in love with one of them.
Isaac and Rebeca, it was ironic... According to the Torah, the sacred book of the Jewish religion, Isaac and Rebeca were chosen by Jehovah with the mission of constituting the nation of the Hebrews, the chosen people for the Savior's offspring. Rebeca told me that she had also noticed the coincidence between the names, but she had not found enough reason to dismiss the indication received, apparently the result of a random search in a dictionary of names. Moreover, her autonomy only allowed her to change a indication of the System if there was strong reason, as in cases that involved risks to her security.
Meeting Of Isaac And Rebeca - painting by Andrea Vaccaro (8 May 1604 – 18 January 1670)
Today, I doubt that the choice of her name was really fortuitous, it had probably been deliberately decided on the e-Venus computer mazes, as a joke, or, more likely, to favor the customer's empathy.
The bell rang. I felt a sudden joy followed by disappointment - this time it would not be Rebeca. I remembered that Eliezer, the only acquaintance who still sought my companionship, had insisted on paying a visit that afternoon, vehemently refusing my arguments to avoid the meeting. At the time, I had little contact with him, usually just by telephone, because of the lack of opportunity or more likely because I did not create them, and even avoided them.

Discouraged, I opened the door.

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October 24, 2017

Chapter IV: The King’s Bishop

"He was certain that he would never find another man like Jonathan and so decided to make him his friend and ally."

Maccabees 10:16


"I cannot play chess without my king's bishop. In its absence the game to me is lifeless and void. The vitalizing factor is missing, and I can devise no plan of attack." 

Grandmaster Siegbert Tarrasch


Chapter IV: The King's Bishop


ELIEZER was standing in front of the door with his usual contagious smile. He looked even more obese than the last time we met. He has always been overweight, it’s difficult to know if cause or consequence of his aversion to physical activities. A fervent supporter of a cold beer and a lively conversation with friends, he disdained attending gyms or practicing any kind of sport.

I met Eliezer at the Engineering college. As he told me later, he approached me attracted by my introverted manner and his admiration for my intellectual ability. Eliezer was adept of studying in groups, and soon he started going to my home to do academic work and to prepare for the exams. Our partnership worked well since its beginning. He was my best student, understanding everything at the first explanation and asking pertinent questions. His grades were not better only because of his lack of effort, but he was able to finish his degree in Engineering without any flunk, even though he scored the minimum grades in the most difficult subjects.

I envied Eliezer somehow, especially his extraversion and sense of humor. Communicative, he always had a new joke or an old one rehashed, told as a professional stand-up comedian, which earned him popularity among his peers. And, surprisingly, he was also a good adversary in chess. He used to confuse his opponents with unexpected and seemingly illogical moves, but they were the refined product of keen intuition.

At the time when I met him, Eliezer lived with his parents and his six brothers in Nova Iguaçu, a municipality near Rio de Janeiro, in a large house with a huge backyard. I was attracted to the relaxed, irreverent and I'd say even messy, way of life his family had - so different from the mood of formality and detachment of my home. Eliezer's father, Mr. Geraldo, was a very lovely Northeasterner with a great sense of humor - easy to conclude from where Eliezer inherited his extroverted way.

I visited Eliezer's residence a few times. My mother worried every time I went there. She didn’t want her son travelling alone far from the Rio’s municipality and, moreover, by train. Since she couldn’t stop me, she tried to persuade me to use the family driver. I refused the offer and ruled out the option of going by taxi - I considered too much ostentation. Despite her fears, my mother liked this friendship. She was fond of the boy and thought it was necessary for me to be distracted away from home with others of my own age. So maybe I would outgrow my reclusive ways.
Central do Brasil train station

After finishing the Engineering course, Eliezer worked for a period in a multinational company in the implementation of a new mobile phone system. But he gave up operating in the technical area to dedicate himself to what he liked best: negotiating and relating to people. The professional success in the commercial area came quickly, which allowed him to leave the distant Nova Iguaçu city and move to a comfortable apartment in Leblon, two blocks from the beach. He intended to accomplish very soon his project of moving to Ipanema, in Vieira Souto street, facing the sea.
Ipanema, Rio - here are Brazil's most expensive residences

During negotiations to close the last big sale, his company authorized the payment of programs with cyber-girls, the trendy award, for directors with decision power. Eliezer was thrilled with the satisfaction shown by the clients and, to celebrate his achievement, invested part of its commission also fulfilling his fantasy. He didn’t rest until he convinced me to use the service as well, he said, "to improve my mood after the end of the engagement".

"What kind of face is that, my lad?" - Eliezer was amazed by my downcast appearance. "You look like you're coming home from a wake."

"And you look like you're always coming or going to a party," I said wryly.

"That's better, isn’t it? Life is an eternal party.”

He stepped inside and placed on the table a thermal bag, a brand-new Tote Origami, which should have cost over a hundred dollars.

"Since you never accept my invitations to celebrate my conquests with my friends, I have brought some wine to toast."

He opened the bag and took out the bottle, a Marquis de Murrieta Gran Reserva.

"Wow! Celebrating good deals or a big luck in the lottery? You brought a Tempranillo, one of my favorites, the chaste symbol of Spain".

"You deserve it. I asked the sommelier for a red wine that would match a tormented and dreamy young man. I hope you enjoy." He smiled friendly and continued. "Unfortunately, I have not been able to master the science of wines, I tried, as some sophisticated customers enjoy the drink. But most of them would rather drink beer and spirits. When I want to present a client with wine, I turn to Master Rubens, from Lidador. Listing the characteristics of the person, he provides the proper type of wine and even explains the whys. In your case, he suggested a wine from the region near La Mancha, land of the solitary knight Don Quixote, who fought battles with his own tormented vision of the world."

Without rejecting the comparison, I thanked him with resignation. The wine was really top quality and it arrived in a good time, my little cellar was almost empty…

"And to savor it perfectly, at the indicated service temperature of 16 ° C, brought it in the thermal bag, which is part of the present."

Without much words, I thanked him once more.

"I thought the cyber girl was going to improve your mood. I tried to talk to you to know your impressions of the meeting, but you disappeared! You don’t answer my calls, nor my messages..."

"It’s the end of the semester, you know, intense academic activity" I said without much conviction.

"I know what's happening. This isolation means that you must be experiencing one of your existential crisis. Despite my good intentions, I believe I did you a disservice." He joked as he poured the wine goblets. "I did not attach enough importance to the fact that you fall in love so easily. But do not worry, remember that these crises pass quickly."

Eliezer sprawled himself on the couch and looked at me waiting for an explanation.

"Well, every time I fall in love, I decide it will be the last time," I explained dispirited. "I decide I will no longer be the victim of such dismay. To be in love is to let oneself become fragile, to renounce reason. Passion is an uncomfortable and pathological feeling. People lose their individuality, identity and reasoning power. And to resist is beyond our will, at least of mine."

I took a sip of the wine and walked to the window. I looked distractedly at the flow of cars on Av. Epitacio Pessoa, intense at that time of day and turned to Eliezer.

"It is terrible to suffer from the typical signs of passion - palpitation, goosebumps, sweat, sparkle in the eyes and loss of appetite. I'm sick once more. And, in the end, all this is but a command of nature necessary for the perpetuation of the species and which manifests itself mainly by physical attraction."

"But passion goes far beyond biochemistry, my friend. It involves liking, smells, memories and sensations. And no one is immune to it, whatever its age or life experience. Console yourself, anyone is subject to the allure of passion."

"Did you know that passion comes from the same Latin word and means suffering or sacrifice?"

"Yes, I heard recently in a sermon in the Church, it is as in Passion of Christ - suffering of Christ."

Eliezer kept trying to comfort me.

"But the passion also has its positive side, because it stimulates the imagination and the creativity, inspiring artists. It is believed to be responsible for most of the human aesthetic production. Imagine how much masterful melody, wonderful paintings, or sublime poetry were created by passionate souls!"

"Yes, but the very art to which you refer to also describes much misfortune and destruction caused by passion - see Othello and the Capulets, to cite only Shakespeare."

"But you must agree that the requited passion causes great happiness and satisfaction to the lovers."

"Yes, but on the other hand, any difficulty in reaching that fullness usually brings immense sadness, for the lover is only happy when he achieves the object of his passion, the other," I grunted irritated.

"That's your only weakness. Isaac, the logical, the self-sufficient, falls before the Passion. Cheer up. This is not the first time I've seen you like this and I know you overcome this fast enough. Passion is always temporary, as intense as it may be, except in the sick cases, in which the individual becomes obsessive. But that is not your case."

"What is the use of knowing that passion is the result of a mythical idealization of the other? Knowing that soon the lovesick will begin to realize that this idealization was wrong. The other no longer behaves within the profile of expectations idealized by the lovesick, generating an intense frustration, which happens to be experienced with great irritability by the lovesick." I paused to savor the wine and continued...

"The passionate realizes the mistake he made and the process begins to recede. There is a gradual return and reinforcement of the identity of the ex-passionate, who comes to see the other as it really is, which can even generate an inverse feeling of extreme repulsion for the sufferings endured."

"Then, my friend, in your case you'll have an eternal passion!" Eliezer joked, trying to suppress a laugh. "Your passion this time will be different, for Rebeca will never disappoint you. She was designed perfectly for you, by yourself and completed by e-Venus. My buddy, this time you screwed up, it's going to be forever."

I was silent, evaluating his arguments and trying to imagine how I could endure living that way for a long time...

"Surrender, my friend. Turn your passion into a great love. Since you haven’t learned to love another human being, I think it's okay to start even with a cybergirl. Only love makes us better and gives meaning to our existence, believe me."

"Redemption for love, ridiculous," I said sarcastically. "I wonder how much fun you must be having."

"Do not be unfair to me" Eliezer said, pretending to be offended and continued: 

We were silent for a moment.

"Philosophy makes us go around in circles and we turn and return to the same point." Eliezer joked.

He smiled and got up from the couch, placed the goblet, half empty, on the table and walked toward the door.

"Some of the company's colleagues are going to meet in a pub near here. Come on, you need distract yourself."

"Thank you, but I'm not in the mood for conversation. Maybe in the next opportunity."

Eliezer made a point of insisting, but gave up, he knew that once I made a decision, I hardly changed my mind. He put his hand on my shoulder, smiled, and left without a word.

I closed the door thoughtfully. I considered it a grave fault of character to find myself bewildered, without having any meaning for life. Deep in my heart, I would like to find a cause for fight for, something that justifies life or even death.

 - Your comments are welcome! -