Woke is the religion of the whiners, the whiners are whiners and the whiners have failed the impossible: then they always have those faces of whiny little dolls, hyper-vitaminized but artfully emaciated, that victimism, those hairy little arms, like insects, from Co2, those little voices petulant and hypocritical. That demand for the world as they perceive it. That being completely useless in the fabric of social, creative, professional relationships: the claim that the world changes hides the claim of being supported by a leopard-like world that must never change.
Like the climate punks who set up roadblocks in the morning, then fill up with fuel and leave with their friends, professionals of Onlyfans, a holiday disco destination where they can relax stunned by all the fetishes of energy-intensive consumerism. The woke is a waka, a bullshit religion to be constantly updated to re-propose them. The antics of the tents did not last long, either due to an overdose of ridicule, or due to the softness of the Canadian Guevaras who gave up on the first weekend, in disgrace of the presenter in the tent Myrta, or because it was discovered that the leaderina, already in the predicate of a candidacy with Sinistra Verde, Piddina branch, had a home, if not at zero km, a short distance further away and therefore the farce of the petulant and spoiled rich “who does not fight for herself but for others” emerged very pure. Then there was the disaster in Emilia Romagna, an administrative disaster, piddly and as such to be blamed on climate change, taking advantage, while they were at it, to relaunch the health psychosis, masks uber alles and pincushion vaccines: after all, the WHO has said it, the EU has said it, that the two emergencies, disease and climate, travel together and feed in a symbiotic relationship. How disgusting.
But here comes back one of those humiliated and offended by the private property of others, one of those afflicted by rents. He has the usual woke face of a Piddino reality TV aspirant, he learned the Pozzetto country boy skit and then made the rounds in the media; to whom he says: iiih, I live in 9 square meters, I sleep in a mezzanine, taaac, taaac, and I pay 650 euros a month. If you are defective, my son, what can I do? Lino Banfi would have answered him. Because the twig, from the Marche region (and it seemed to you if we didn’t do ourselves credit), was also taken from Dagospia who obviously takes his side, languishes: iiih, I can’t live in Porta Venezia, what an injustice, the owners make the prices they want, “the situation has definitely changed”. Since when? The finch is still featherless, so either he arrived recently from the village in the Marche, or he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Changed, yes, after the political bullshit of Covid that caused impossible real estate bubbles. The fact is that picking on landlords who rent as they want is very woke but doesn’t deserve consideration, if anything a metaphorical kick in the ass: wake up, boy! Meaning what this is what a casuccia with a view of the Duomo demands but paying what he wants? Does he set the prices?
At Porta Venezia? You can stay in Porta Venezia, which is not your native wild village, if your name is Lukaku, Berlusconi or, at the time, Mazzini, in the sense of Mina, the singer. We are in one of the most important and therefore expensive historic centers in the world: what are you doing, are you surprised? So why don’t you try the Navigli? Among the rabbits? We tried and, taaac, a wonderful 70m2 studio apartment immediately popped up for 700 euros, just 50 more: you know, kids, you have to know how to travel to real estate agencies, even on the web. It is not difficult. If instead you do the Bell’Addormentato all Movida and itching, sorrybut that’s your problem.
Unbelievable: the paisà arrives (so does the writer, so no accusations of bullying, please, if anything a little lesson on knowing how to live in the world or at least in Millano) and wants to settle in central-central Milan. Not even Città Studi. Not even Lambrate. Not even Carugate. No, he wants, he demands Porta Venezia. And she whines because she pays dearly, she sleeps suspended, 9 square metres, Elly, help me, taaac!
But how the fuck can you take these seriously. Once they were called the ruling class of the future, now they have to digest it. One wrote on Twitter: if this guy, with a short master’s degree, hasn’t understood how he goes around and pays 650 euros to live on a tile, he doesn’t deserve any job, neither public nor private. Right on, boss: still coming across some breath of mental oxygen is vital, it is salvation. In Gotham Milan whose mayor Sala feels like Napoleon rather than Batman and punishes 4 municipal guards who rushed to save the children of a school from an out-of-control viado. Eh, but just perceive it as A GIRL, capitalized, like the left-wing propaganda that is circulating on social media. Of course, a girl with a lethal weapon drawn in front of the brats. Unfortunately, the writer has always accumulated vast experience of life, at its worst, and knows these “girls” having lived with them for 16 years in a seaside village with a high criminal density: mafiosi with forced residence, herculean and extremely dangerous “girls”, drug dealers and finally the crazy scum of the world.
Well, if these “girls” find you on the street they will wipe you out and there aren’t enough of 4 of them to hold them: do the comrades who in these hours are shouting about torture, about the fascist regime, know what they’re talking about? Are they idiots or in bad faith? Or both? Woke religion burns the world but it’s paracula: imposes one-way self-perception but prevents other perceptions that differ from the official version. Viado perceives herself as a girl, the left guarantees it as such “regardless”, as they put their hands forward (regardless of the fact that he was a stoned and HIV-positive pedophile?), but I cannot perceive differently. Beautiful democracy. I, for example, perceive Sala not as a rainbow mayor but as a giraffe and I feed him carobs: let’s see how long it lasts?
And the snottywoke who came up from the province and wants a house in the Sforzesco Castle, like Lovodico, but paying if and how much he wants, I perceive him, rather than a victim of cruel liberalism, a victim of himself and in any case one of the whining society that broke my balls. Since reality agrees with me, what do we do, do we abolish him or do we abolish reality with me inside?