A dehydrated person plunges headlong into a river and turns into a fish, even in a bathtub. The hungry people don't know what they are looking for, as if they can eat everything, but nothing.
The film's final subtitles describe the killing of 15 police officers by the IRA, and immediately thinks of the riot police with their batons pounding on their shields, and the mournful roar of the young police officer. Who's to say it's not a sadness?
Thanks to the director for not showing the police as a group of cold-blooded state machines, I really appreciate it. The real state machine is only that cold voice that has never been seen, and that only exists on the radio, the voice of Margaret Thatcher.
But everyone has their own choice, the IRAs chose the blanket demonstration, the filth demonstration, the hunger strike demonstration. They live naked and dirty in the shit room, they live like savages, and they fight for the right to freedom of clothing. The police chose to suppress the demonstrators, lived in fear of being killed, chose to use violence to control violence, and chose to beat those filthy savages.
Where did their conflict come from? This is a clash of ideologies, and the police are just victims caught between two ideologies. A pawn who lost his face.
Everyone has a personal choice. Maybe this choice is hesitant, it may be very firm, or it may cost a lot, but in any case, a choice is a choice. Some choices can be changed, and some can really not be turned back.
Let alone choosing to die.
I know I will die, I know many people will die, I know the hypocrisy of the government, I know the powerlessness of resistance, I love life, I long for freedom, but I still choose to die.
The choice of the path of life swings between Freud's desire to live and desire to die. For the sake of life, he chooses to die.
What about the police? They are hidden in the huge shadow of the state apparatus, disappearing into expressionless people.
Only the rulers of the country, on the blood of the defenders of the losers, made great strides.
They tell us that history is the patent of the victors. They told us that the country is improving and the people are happy and healthy. They tell us that a few bad elements are trying to use the sympathy of the people to destroy the peace of the country.
Every day I listen to all kinds of hard evidence of a happy life on TV, listening to those people say how happy it is to live in this country, I am always a little discouraged, I can't say that I am not happy now, I just want to know that in this world, there are How many people are choosing their own choices and walking their own way firmly, and how many people are hidden in the dark side of history.
These choices are separated from ideology and social rules.
But it always makes people feel that there are so many choices in the world that it feels like a real life.
I am always hungry, but all grain is not grain, and all soil is not mud.
In the end, I can only suspect that this hunger is just another hallucination of mine
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