An old whore in decay from a cleared brothel (with all due respect to the honest professionals of the genre) who tries to regain an impossible virginity “in the shadow of the girls in bloom”, is the one who barks, howls, brays against the time-outs that , with a tear on their eyelash, commemorate the Italian Social Movement (MSI), party for decades voted by millions of Italians and present rather democratically in Parliament (at least there).
Here, loosening the concept of “fascism” and its historical-ideological specificity to an anti-scientific extent, we see fascists ex-servants of every master, ex-thieves, corrupt, corruptors, abusers, mystifiers, hypocrites and starvers, pounce with dialectical fury from tinfoil – glittering, but always paper – on other fascists, ontologically also thieves, hungry people, servants of any master, abusers, truncheons and structurally criminals.
Badogliesque show, intimately clericist, more Nazi than Fascist, more hooligan than Nazi (always improperly stretching the definition of the historical phenomenon), viscerally Italiot, which we, sovereign and popular Italians, will soon have to sweep from the stage of this two-lire vaudeville show , restoring health and honor to the whole country. Indeed, to the people. Indeed, to the nation. .
Fulvius