Us against ourselves: after all, it wasn’t exactly a fool who said that the first enemy to defeat is ourselves.
Metaphorical bar chatter. This is the reality of the situation of Italian minds (and not only, probably) who have something to say but who write it and read it again for themselves, enjoying their human or inhuman quality. Like sitting at the table with the red and white checkered tablecloth, drinking red wine and discussing how much politics sucks, how governments are crooked. All revolutionaries sit at that table with the red and white checkered tablecloth. But then what? What happens? It happens that the bourgeois man wins! Burn your sofa! Someone wisely said… but the laurels of the comfortable life don’t disgust anyone, do they?
In addition, with today’s technological means, we can write any crap on the web and we will find at least a handful of faithful assholes that dig it as much as we do! Isn’t that so? And this makes us enjoy ourselves deep down, doesn’t it?
We enjoy serotonin and we enjoy our own narcissism.
The consequence is that if one comments on a tweet, a video on the Tube, a who-knows-what, then we feel flooded with pleasure or ire (which is the same thing), attacked in our own person, on our own hermit column. We will defend our desperate position to the last beat on the keyboard. But then what? Who won? Who had a confrontation?
The truth is that nobody wins and everybody loses. We waste time writing and reading 10k thoughts and comments instead of taking action.
That’s enough, comments are no longer of any fucking use. Things are as they are and there is not much to discuss. If there is to be discussion, let it at least be at that greasy table with the checkered tablecloth sipping red wine and not in slippers sitting at your desk scratching your appendages.
Stop, yes you!, hating each other simply because one says the same thing as you but in other words and help each other instead of cancelling each other out, you are not spoilt children but adults; Responsibility! and the times demand it of you, Devs vvlt.
Our common flag, whether one calls it how one likes, flies in the name of Octavian, Constantine, Dante, Augustine, Nietzsche, Michelangelo, Brunelleschi, Da Vinci, Giordano Bruno, Galilei as well as the bravos of Manzoni, the various Innominati, those of the Bande Nere and even the Landsknechts. What makes us belong to that flag is a history of culture and events that have shaped us similarly. We will never all be the same, we will never get along, but it is time to put aside the comfortable bickering and unite under that one flag that in the end truly unites us all, even the reds and blacks.