There are only two ways to descend from the horse: that he stays still and that he is on the move. And there's no more way to descend from corrupt dogmatisms of politics; if it goes down, or it's done with the donkey at rest, or at the step.

The world, both foreign and domestic, has long been the victim of dogmatic – sometimes violent, sometimes peaceful – beliefs. Dogmatism has many names, but it is dogmatism and we recognise it immediately.

The dogmatic has no head and wants the txapela -- that's how it behaves. It raises the most violent exclusions for the benefit of certain blind beliefs, and for their empowerment. Dogmatism was the origin of the Inquisition. Dogmatism fascism. Stalinism.

Dogmatism is paralyzing. It normally implies an obstruction of the actions of the committed community members that do not conform to the vertical footprint. Ask to eat with non-tragable grinders. Stigmatizes critics: In the church, in the jail, in the village square, in the group of txistularis...

Rename, redefine the people who work with their own line – not with a terminology according to the discourse of the independent people, but with the interior dogma – and surprise the “deviates” from the watchtower of vanity.

A lot of us like dogma. Stop. The definition of population. In the design of the city. In the approach of popular action. The margins of lobbyists have been filled: cultural associations, municipal groups, parliaments... The intellectual slavery of dogma is two-fold: endogenous and exogenous. In both of them, terrible.

Mr. Dom

When he was arrested, Dom was eighteen years old. Gestapo locked him in Paris and took Ravensbrück to the field of work. When he was arrested, the executioners referred to the youth’s “deviant and dangerous” militancy, according to the press.

Inside the enormous prison, to survive in the field of work, the days when Mr. Dom ate what he had found in the forests of the SS. Months. For years.

When Nazi surrender came and the war ended, the liberators freed her. Sick and weak, it was once seen by the population from a garbage jar on the street. The walkers called him “pork” on his face. They pointed to him with the index. He told the kids not to approach him.

Mr Dom did not understand anything. And he wondered how, after having lived with the SS system and the others, it was possible that those streets would shake at the time to see the poor picking up food in the garbage.