Uso questo blog per pensare. Lo uso per arrabbiarmi per le cose non giuste. Lo uso per condividere il mio pensiero con chi voglia farlo. Non ho altro che abbia senso mettere in comune. Gionata

domenica 26 settembre 2010

The Lega Nord party is a disease

The Lega Nord party is a senile disease. It has struck Italy because it is an ageing country.
It is nowadays a fearful country, which has lost hope in the future, but still have a lot of small savings and little privileges to protect; an elderly and angry country, which hates all things new and diverse. The Lega Nord party can be a deadly disease for a country in such conditions.

In the young and strong country which riconstructed itself in the 60ies and early 70ies, those who shouted abuse against the "terroni" (people from the south) and anyone "different" were the drunk losers sitting in lowly bars. The good people, in case any malicious thoughts reached their brains, suppressed it. Because of manners, or beacause mamma said so, or the priest did, or the party. Not now. Now everything is released. All instincts are loudly liberated, like farts.
Lega Nord is the representative of these farts. Of all things lowly and stinky that ooze out of citizens. It is the rotting of the flesh and spirit of the sad and disillusioned elderly. 

Some diseases, in a young body, are not even felt. But they can kill the old. That is how the Lega Nord infection works: think of some of their leading figures, always shouting against the weak and the last ones in the society: Borghezio, Castelli, Calderoli, with their red faces, swollen with hatred, the type that only the rich can afford: in the young Italy they would have been buried by laughter. Today they are voted by millions of old people of all ages.



The Lega Nord party expresses the denial of reality and the escape in a mytical past. Same as some elderly who don't understand the world, technology, speed,  sometimes locking themselves up, remembering the simpler times gone by, so the Lega Nord nurtures the idea of an ancient northern Italy which never existed. The beautiful countryside in Veneto, the rice fields on the Po river, the piedmont woods full of maroons, in the past centuries did have a lot in common, but one thing featured over all the others: the absolute poverty of the vast majority of the population.
The end of that "mytical" past is called progress. Lega Nord does not accept it. 

Lega Nord has a simple solution for all problems, and it is invariably wrong. The old brains accept it nonetheless, because it is easy to chew. They don't want to do the effort of thinking anymore, they think they know better, and don't realize they are being set up. They move as a herd, like sheep, thinking they are smart like cats.

The clever sheeps hear the Lega representatives shouting madly on TV and think they are being protected from the roman regime.
They don't seem to realize that these guys have been in power for most of the last decade.
For more than ten years Lega Nord have put their people in government posts, in the inner circles, in managing boards of large companies.
For ten years they've been driven around in "blue" stately cars, they have hired relatives and friends in administration job posts, they have trafficked with banks.
In these ten years they have not made any change in this country. Nothing.
You don't like the Constitution? Fine, change it. There are ways to do it. The only time they tried, they made such a mess of it that, when the voters had to confirm it, they were not even able to convince their own people to support it.

What else they've improved? Economy is stagnant. Taxes stay high. Employees have low salaries. The public administration is inefficient. Infrastructures crumble down. Technological innovation does not happen. Competitivity with foreign countries is not there. what have they done to improve things? Nothing. They just shout. What do you shout for? You are the one on the throne!

Old Italy has put them on the political stage. But the show is stale and sad, and they, tragic clowns sporting their green foulard, hold the sack for a seventy-something old guy from Arcore, an old-style capitalist who have purchased them because they were the only ones who would accept to guard his shoulders while he runsacked the country, in exchange for a few ministry spots and the institution of the prestigious University of Insubria.

Will the old italian youngsters realize they are being cheated by these baffoons? Or will they end up in dire straits, in an asylum, carrying the Lega Nord symbols at the entrance?

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