Noon , 23 April 2020 – 08: 32
by Maurizio de Giovanni
In these grim times, television has conquered unusual spaces in our evenings, and we confess that we spend several hours in front of that small mirror of quicksand. However, the self-destructive instinct is not enough to access certain networks and certain programs, so this had escaped us. In each family, however, there is someone who makes wild zapping, and a relative reached us on the phone inviting us to tune in to a specific channel, where something was being configured that incredible dictu , it went beyond the vast borders of the garbage which is spilled into our living rooms daily.
We could not go and see, aware that it would take little to find on the web the excerpt of the wonderful sketch aired on a Mediaset network, the protagonists of the remains of a journalist who has seen glorious times and the ectoplasm of a conductor – director – author, who acted as his shoulder with a skilful interpretation of a role that we frankly believed had now passed. Nothing new, let's be clear: by pretending a mild amused dissociation, the conductor stimulated an (verbally) incontinent journalist against the southerners, guilty of an alleged anti-Lombard feeling. Needless to say, the trigger was provided by De Luca's grievances about the reopening, he said at least hasty, of economic activities and borders by a region that still records about a thousand new infections from daily coronaviruses.
From here a nice little curtain, during which the (verbally) journalist continent found a way to express interesting concepts that would have turned pale Lombroso and Mengele. The conclusion was simple and explicit: southerners are lower. And the only interest for a Lombard determined to force the closure of the borders imposed by De Luca would be to do an internship to acquire the professionalism of abusive valet.
And there was a delicate thought of intolerance towards the 14. 000 Campania who invade the precious Lombard health every year, perhaps free of charge, where evidently only northern doctors operate. An immense sadness has invaded us. Not for the concepts (wanting to be kind) expressed by a man who relevant political exponents proposed, only in 2015, as president of the Republic and ended up as a character of Thomas Mann lying on the chair from which he taught in the past, victim of the ridiculous and the time that passes mercilessly: the socio-political position of man is all too well known to us, being blathered uniformly by the columns of a newspaper that lives on public funds and therefore also of our relevant contribution . No.
The sadness came from the use of a soldier sent to the table sent to die of ridicule, to distract Lombardy's public and electoral opinion from a pitiful institutional failure, with possible and indeed probable direct responsibilities in the death of hundreds if not thousands of people, for late and often wrong choices, outside and inside rest homes and hospitals. Milan does not stop, they said: and this is the result. To divert attention, certainly better a slobbery disarticulated not concept expressed in vain, look carefully and you will find some southerner or immigrant sufficiently ugly, dirty or bad to take it out on.
The irony is that the expendable soldier we are talking about ends up as a puffin. Just him, that Pulcinella hates him so much.
23 April 2020 | 08: 32
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