Stories and News No. 1072
Don’t believe us.
Don’t believe us, in that day of the future, always too far away, that will come, I’m sure it will do.
The fateful moment when, astonished before yesterday's events, and especially the following day, you will ask us: were you fascist?
Yes, one of us will answer.
He will tell you that he was a fascist because he loved his country, but he will explain that country is just an idea, a dream of a proud nation, that loves its children and puts their destiny and their security in front of everything.
He will add that he was a fascist and gratified of it, without fear of asserting it openly in front of the invader.
He’ll swear that he have always shown respect for the institutions and solidarity with the public forces committed to defending the common thing, precious container where to protect and serve culture and traditions whose roots sink directly into the soil.
You will show understandable perplexity, listening not to the man of the early decades of the twentieth century, but a millennium later, but he will look at you with a pleased and undaunted expression, and will tell you that ideas never die, only cowards give up and other stuff like that.
But you, people beyond this immobile calendar which we are trapped in, where every year seems more and more like the previous one, don’t believe us.
Because actions determine what we are, not words.
Trying to kill helpless people on the street qualifies us as murderers.
Basing our conception of the neighbor simply for what has been read several times on a social network defines us as ignorant gullible.
Shooting unarmed people means behaving like cowards.
Venting our hatred on the first guy just met is the consequence of being full of dull anger, nothing else, never an affection for the country.
Cultivating the obsession of having at all costs an enemy which to defend from day and night it’s called paranoia.
I could go on and on.
It’s enough to recall, finally, that sustaining, or even tolerating, individuals of this kind makes us equally guilty, that is, murderers, cowards, paranoids.
Not fascists.
So, don’t believe us, don’t believe in that one, but not even the other.
Yes, him, who will advance with even more pomp.
Who will declare in a free voice: I was anti-fascist.
Fortunately born in a time that will finally start to walk, you will ask him about his field affirmation.
He will reply that he has written several times of being against fascism until he angled his hands on the computer or cell phone keyboard.
He will include the boundless amount of signed petitions, more or less participated manifestations, sensitive events and conferences, he will talk about the beating taken from the fascists and those given to them, he will tell you of virtuous meetings in social centers and liberating occupations of the common place.
He will declare of having always been on the side of workers and women, freedom of press and expression, the last ones and injustices.
On the right side, always, without ifs and buts, until returning home at the end of the show.
At that point, don’t hesitate, ask that question, you have to do it.
Tell him, then: how are the fascists back?
Why they never left?
He will look at you, showing despair and indignation.
He’ll accuse the people, the masses, USA and even Russia, he will blame everyone, and will point the generalizing finger as far as possible from itself.
Don’t believe him.
Please, don’t do it.
Because, as already mentioned, the gestures, not the chit-chatter, establish our role in the world.
Accepting to earn money by working for people who daily prove to be uncaring of workers and women, it’s called to be bloody hypocrites.
Spending our money buying every day, for a lifetime, stuff of all kinds, without worrying if the producers of the latter respect or not the freedom of press and expression, makes us accomplices.
But more than anything else, avoiding to start question ourselves, as the first accountable, by birth and origin, of the misfortunes of the last ones and the injustices they suffer in the world, means being destined to see history repeating itself.
Not anti-fascists.
Don’t believe us, then.
Don’t believe in the fable of the two sides.
Only a few of us have ever been really antifascists.
Indeed, we were all a little fascists, inside.
May heaven bless the day when we’ll understand, accept, recognize it.
Only from that moment we’ll start being you...
Read more stories to think about
Buy my English Italian, dual language books
Listen my music band
Watch my last storytelling show with English and Italian subtitles Sunset
Storytelling videos with subtitles
Don’t believe us.
Don’t believe us, in that day of the future, always too far away, that will come, I’m sure it will do.
The fateful moment when, astonished before yesterday's events, and especially the following day, you will ask us: were you fascist?
Yes, one of us will answer.
He will tell you that he was a fascist because he loved his country, but he will explain that country is just an idea, a dream of a proud nation, that loves its children and puts their destiny and their security in front of everything.
He’ll swear that he have always shown respect for the institutions and solidarity with the public forces committed to defending the common thing, precious container where to protect and serve culture and traditions whose roots sink directly into the soil.
You will show understandable perplexity, listening not to the man of the early decades of the twentieth century, but a millennium later, but he will look at you with a pleased and undaunted expression, and will tell you that ideas never die, only cowards give up and other stuff like that.
But you, people beyond this immobile calendar which we are trapped in, where every year seems more and more like the previous one, don’t believe us.
Because actions determine what we are, not words.
Trying to kill helpless people on the street qualifies us as murderers.
Basing our conception of the neighbor simply for what has been read several times on a social network defines us as ignorant gullible.
Shooting unarmed people means behaving like cowards.
Venting our hatred on the first guy just met is the consequence of being full of dull anger, nothing else, never an affection for the country.
Cultivating the obsession of having at all costs an enemy which to defend from day and night it’s called paranoia.
I could go on and on.
It’s enough to recall, finally, that sustaining, or even tolerating, individuals of this kind makes us equally guilty, that is, murderers, cowards, paranoids.
Not fascists.
So, don’t believe us, don’t believe in that one, but not even the other.
Yes, him, who will advance with even more pomp.
Who will declare in a free voice: I was anti-fascist.
Fortunately born in a time that will finally start to walk, you will ask him about his field affirmation.
He will reply that he has written several times of being against fascism until he angled his hands on the computer or cell phone keyboard.
He will include the boundless amount of signed petitions, more or less participated manifestations, sensitive events and conferences, he will talk about the beating taken from the fascists and those given to them, he will tell you of virtuous meetings in social centers and liberating occupations of the common place.
He will declare of having always been on the side of workers and women, freedom of press and expression, the last ones and injustices.
On the right side, always, without ifs and buts, until returning home at the end of the show.
At that point, don’t hesitate, ask that question, you have to do it.
Tell him, then: how are the fascists back?
Why they never left?
He will look at you, showing despair and indignation.
He’ll accuse the people, the masses, USA and even Russia, he will blame everyone, and will point the generalizing finger as far as possible from itself.
Don’t believe him.
Please, don’t do it.
Because, as already mentioned, the gestures, not the chit-chatter, establish our role in the world.
Accepting to earn money by working for people who daily prove to be uncaring of workers and women, it’s called to be bloody hypocrites.
Spending our money buying every day, for a lifetime, stuff of all kinds, without worrying if the producers of the latter respect or not the freedom of press and expression, makes us accomplices.
But more than anything else, avoiding to start question ourselves, as the first accountable, by birth and origin, of the misfortunes of the last ones and the injustices they suffer in the world, means being destined to see history repeating itself.
Not anti-fascists.
Don’t believe us, then.
Don’t believe in the fable of the two sides.
Only a few of us have ever been really antifascists.
Indeed, we were all a little fascists, inside.
May heaven bless the day when we’ll understand, accept, recognize it.
Only from that moment we’ll start being you...
On the same topic:
Read more stories to think about
Buy my English Italian, dual language books
Listen my music band
Watch my last storytelling show with English and Italian subtitles Sunset
Storytelling videos with subtitles