Stories and News No. 765
Speaking of the massacre in the church of Charleston, South Carolina, USA, where a young man killed nine people – according to the news he seems to be ‘white’, the police chief says there is no doubt that it was a hate crime.
The religion of the killer, if he is Catholic rather than Buddhist, does not matter.
No matter whether he is a perfect citizen, a regular immigrant or an illegal one.
It is not relevant even if he has to do with the Isis or Al Qaida.
And I do not think that is because we are talking about a ‘white’ guy.
What intrigues me is the nature of the crime...
Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
Everytime.
Especially the others.
When you close your brain, if you really have one, and open the taps of a putrid belly, vomiting delusions and dullness insulting entire populations, feelings, traditions and lives.
Lives who read and suffer, more or less in silence.
Everytime, really all.
More than ever the others.
Where, due to the alleged heat of your peers, you feel multiply within your courage to face a cowardice that will always remain huge, and stare your gaze on the first existence near your grudge.
He just need to be alone.
She just has to be vulnerable.
There should be at least one.
Everytime, all right.
Starting with the others.
When you turn to the strictly soft side, you clench lips and soul with the same fearful hurry, and although you perfectly know well where truth, justice and humanity flourish, you join the dance of silence.
Because otherwise we would have obtained ‘low votes percentages’.
Because otherwise we would lose ‘subscribers’ and ‘I like it’.
Because otherwise we would not be ‘so many’ anymore.
Everytime, every, yes.
Without neglecting the others.
Where you believe to be among the ranks of the good ones, but you did not take care of the actual destination of your words, your gestures and your looks.
If only we had the chance to follow them up to the most fragile goal.
If only we had the possibility of being that fragile goal.
And if only we had the opportunity to go back and remedy.
Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
But everytime, let us consider them all.
And, in one of them, let’s begin to think very carefully.
Before saying or doing anything...
Read other stories about racism.
Storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News:
Speaking of the massacre in the church of Charleston, South Carolina, USA, where a young man killed nine people – according to the news he seems to be ‘white’, the police chief says there is no doubt that it was a hate crime.
The religion of the killer, if he is Catholic rather than Buddhist, does not matter.
No matter whether he is a perfect citizen, a regular immigrant or an illegal one.
It is not relevant even if he has to do with the Isis or Al Qaida.
And I do not think that is because we are talking about a ‘white’ guy.
What intrigues me is the nature of the crime...
Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
Everytime.
Especially the others.
When you close your brain, if you really have one, and open the taps of a putrid belly, vomiting delusions and dullness insulting entire populations, feelings, traditions and lives.
Lives who read and suffer, more or less in silence.
Everytime, really all.
More than ever the others.
Where, due to the alleged heat of your peers, you feel multiply within your courage to face a cowardice that will always remain huge, and stare your gaze on the first existence near your grudge.
He just need to be alone.
She just has to be vulnerable.
There should be at least one.
Everytime, all right.
Starting with the others.
When you turn to the strictly soft side, you clench lips and soul with the same fearful hurry, and although you perfectly know well where truth, justice and humanity flourish, you join the dance of silence.
Because otherwise we would have obtained ‘low votes percentages’.
Because otherwise we would lose ‘subscribers’ and ‘I like it’.
Because otherwise we would not be ‘so many’ anymore.
Everytime, every, yes.
Without neglecting the others.
Where you believe to be among the ranks of the good ones, but you did not take care of the actual destination of your words, your gestures and your looks.
If only we had the chance to follow them up to the most fragile goal.
If only we had the possibility of being that fragile goal.
And if only we had the opportunity to go back and remedy.
Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
But everytime, let us consider them all.
And, in one of them, let’s begin to think very carefully.
Before saying or doing anything...
Read other stories about racism.
Storytelling with subtitles
Also on Stories and News: