O problema com a argumentação é que transpõe toda a luta para o terreno do próprio Inimigo. Também Ele pode argumentar. Ao passo que, com o tipo de propaganda realmente prática que sugiro, há já séculos que se vem a provar que Ele é grandemente inferior ao Nosso Pai que está nos Infernos. Pelo simples facto de argumentares, despertas a razão do paciente. E, uma vez desperta, quem poderá prever os resultados?
"(...) My daughter, she has no use for night runners. You know, her first language is not Luo. Not even Swahili. It is english. When I listen to her talk with her friends, it sounds like gibberish to me. They take bits and pieces of everything - English, Swahili, German, Luo. Sometimes, I get fed up with this. Learn to speak one language properly, I tell them." Rukia laughed to herself. "But I am beggining to resign myself - there's nothing really to do. They live in a mixed-up world. It's just as well, I suppose. In the end, I'm less interested in a daughter who's authentically African than one who is authentically herself." It was getting late; we thanked Rukia for her hospitality and went on our way. But her words would stay with me, bringing into focus my own lingering questions.
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