The guns come back and the skewers come back. Arson fires are back, say journalists. The broken glass is back. A bald and fat gentleman, bearded and well-preserved addressed a tall and short-sighted gentleman, bearded and not very well-preserved. The first would open his shirt like Raza and then turn around and show the nape of his neck so that he or his Basque friends could shoot him. The kid had gone to defend a commemorative stamp. The fat man, Spain.
What didn't go is back and Brian's life is back and his Popular Judaic Front, Popular Front of Judea or Popular Union. The left is so sectarian that one always ends up sticking the same ax in the eye. Everything is conspiracy, everything is with me or against me. And it is insulted outside and inside all the places where Life does not circulate. On the networks, in the parliaments, on the radios. And out come men with beards and insulting racial ladies and people in purple shirts with phrases that no one reads anymore, and then the World Cup starts and night falls in Ukraine.
New scenario: nothing will happen outside of our mobile. They will burn ballot boxes and palaces and adversaries will be murdered inside the iPhone and there will be no pain either inside or outside the virtual world. A corpulent gentleman opens his jacket and makes a noise and we are all his echo. What is he talking about? Where did it come from? And one thinks that with him, as with the skewers on the other side, the best weapon is to laugh at him. How ridiculous they are. How affected, mannered, exaggerated they are, and without a north.
Armies and politics defeat the enemies of democracy, but it is laughter and intelligence, kindness, the law and the wedge that lock the beast in the basement. Fascism was closed by Loren and Mastroianni by spreading some sheets. In Hitler, Normandy and Lubitsch, and Gila did more against Franco than la gauche divine taking gin and tonics in Bocaccio.
