Stories and News No. 1240
From today, July 8, 2021, the so-called anti-Lgbt law by the Orbán government goes into effect in Hungary...
Once upon a time, a long one ago, but not too much, in a very distant place, but also not, an island.
An island… let's say a tiny islet, a single fruit tree, four shriveled bushes and an equally negligible strip of beach.
On the island located in a distant place, but also close, long ago, but that is not certain, there lived two men. Only two inhabitants. Alone. Two.
The only two men, two inhabitants, alone, were alone. That is, in the same island, very far away, even if the reverse is also true, in another era, but ours is fine too, they were alone within themselves and did not do much to change this state of affairs.
On the other hand, aren't we many, too many, who behave identically?
Now, it so happens that after many years the day came when the two collided under the scorching sun and with the roar of the waves as a soundtrack, because one member of the couple had grievances about the other.
The reasons were simple: being both shipwreck victims, they had not landed on the island, let's even say an islet, from the same coast.
One had ended up on the sandy side and the other had touched the ground on the rocky part.
As a result, the former had planted his metaphorical flag on the shore with a gentle profile, claiming its absolute ownership, and the other was left with the rocks.
In support of this, it should be remembered that there was no merit in this fate.
I mean, a better swimming ability or an innate ability to identify the preferable shore in an island, or rather islet, in the event of a shipwreck. None of this. It was just the case, whether it was put on the record in capital letters, with screaming bold and indelible ink, if one of the two had sand under his feet and the other the rough rock.
From this it can be easily deduced that it was the latter who protested.
"The island, or islet, belongs to both of us", began the interested going straight to the point. "It seems right to me that, despite the small size, we share the sand."
"It's not fair at all. Indeed, it is against nature."
"Against what?"
"Nature. You're a rock man and I'm a beach guy. I don’t understand your problems..."
"My problems are the sand that I don’t have under your butt, as well as the deckchair and umbrella that..."
"Dude, nobody prevents you from building a deckchair yourself and arranging it together with the umbrella with which..."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Me? I’d never do that."
"Listen, have you ever come to my shore?"
"No, I'm fine where I am."
"And I believe it. But in your turn you should take my word for it when I tell you that on those rocks where I had the misfortune of landing there is no way to fix anything."
"It was never my problem."
"Really? It is from today."
"Why?"
"Because today is the one I realized that it is nowhere written that you have the sand and I have the rock. I also have my rights. We are two on this place."
"It's not written anywhere, you say? Okay, I do it now, then."
Consequently, the lucky guy wrote the following words on the shore: the beach belongs to me and the rocks to him.
"You see? Now it is written somewhere. You can't blame me for your problems. The space is little here and if I respected your rights, as you say, I would damage mine, forcing myself to see the beach and even the stretch of sea at my disposal shrinking. It was nature that decided our respective fates and going against it is wrong."
In the meantime, the man of the rocks had averted his gaze from the other and had started staring at the newly printed writing.
"Indeed", the beach guy insisted, "if you moved to this side, you would take your habits as a classic inhabitant of the rocks with you and thus you would end up polluting the habitat that I have built over time. I repeat, it is the law of nature that wants it, not just me."
Meanwhile, the rebel kept staring at the above sentence and his eyes widened more and more.
"My dear, you don't argue with the law of nature", continued the other. "And the law of nature provides that every creature lives on the side of the island that fate has decided. Otherwise, the fish would come out of the sea to fly to the sky, the birds would move underground and the flowers would begin to bloom on the clouds..."
"And if that happens, who are we to claim the right to ban it?"
"Who am I? I am the owner of the beach and... what are you smiling about? And what are you staring at...?"
At that moment the man who had had the good fortune to be the first to reach the shore made up of sand followed the gaze of the other and observed the beach. He precisely moved his he eyes to the spot where a few seconds ago he had written down his insurmountable right of ownership. Right, or presumed to be, that it had been quickly wiped out by the waves.
"Friend of the island," said the man of the rocks, approaching the other with sincere compassion. “Did you invoke the law of nature? Well, the latter granted your wish and spoke."
"And what did she say?"
"That you and I are only human beings and like every creature on earth we can only try to coexist as best we can. Because the rights obtained at the expense of those of the neighbor are not rights at all. They are called privileges. And sooner or later those who live on the other side of the world will come to us asking for justice..."
My last book: A morte i razzisti (Death to racists)