The era of the “pandemically correct” and the dangerous addiction to the loss of freedoms

We are not only living in the era of " Likecrazia " (cited by Daniele Capezzone) but we are now dangerously venturing into the field of " pandemically correct ", with effects still to be experienced on our skin. If in the beginning it was the man endowed with reason, feeling and reasoning to be at the center of civilization, as effectively represented by Leonardo's Vitruvian Man, this crap virus Sars-Cov2 is consolidating his throne and his empire and we are really we to be more or less unconscious subjects. The months have passed since the fateful and nefarious discovery of the epidemic and more and more our private and public actions would seem to have to ask the virus for permission to be made explicit. More and more our days seem to pass within the enclosure of the little that we are allowed. Up until a year ago, we all knew we could do a great majority of non-dangerous and non-prohibited things, and only the remaining few were dangerous, not recommended, or even prohibited. Today everything has been overturned and very few things are really lawful due to the pandemic, or rather, the anti- Covid regulations.

It seems incredible that the most elementary freedoms can be severely limited to us with such lightness, with the speech "We ask you another sacrifice …" as if you were asking to drink responsibly or not to drive when you have drunk too much. If someone, more or less timidly (not to say more or less pissed off) asks the reason for so many bans to our decision makers, they will reply "it is Covid's fault, be patient and stay united ". Rather than passively undergo the diktat of the virus, it should be us, as largely architects of our destiny, to impose some minimal renunciation to the hegemonic project of the epidemic, channeling it into our centuries-old schemes of civilization and freedom. This is no small matter, after all it is a question of not bowing your head beyond the limit of the belt. Instead, exactly the opposite happens; if the virus, this shit that we should always write in lowercase letters, had a brain, would gloat to see us submissive like frightened and wandering sheep, pushed in a scrambled race by baying coppers that sometimes we don't even know if they are more friends than the shepherd or the wolf. But by God, a little dignity! How can we abdicate a vermin with a ridiculous shape, and which even loves to travel in spit, forgetting that, at least in our house, we still command? Of course, protective measures are sacrosanct for us and for our neighbor, God forbid, and it is certainly not enough to despise the opponent, however cowardly and devious he may be, to beat him. But throwing away, indeed in the toilet, millennia of civilization, of free thought, of the protection of our activities and of our choice to live where we want and doing what we prefer, with the only limit of the laws that we have given ourselves, is really too much. And do not bring up the nonsense of the "war" we would be fighting against the lowest microorganism, because even the worst and most tribal of wars has its own rules and armies, or at least its opposing factions. We are not fighting any war and we risk becoming the enemy ourselves, if we continue with this general attitude of supine submission, always ready to give up everything and even dearest people because " Covid asks us for it ".

As it happens, in this derelict country, there is always someone who asks us something. Be it Europe, be it the climate, be it whatever the hell you want, there is always someone asking us to do this or that. While waiting for science to prove whether or not viruses have a brain and a discernment, wouldn't it be better, joking aside, to at least demonstrate to ourselves a little more firmness and determination? We are content with little things, measured with the timer of no importance, which would be justified by absolutely uncertain and inaccurate numbers that are given to us with the confidence of the (pre) powerful who speaks to the sluggish. That we are granted a sober coffee at the bar already seems to us a sensational victory, but in the meantime we risk losing much more than the coffee or pizza on Sunday evening. This very telegenic government, never tired of showing itself on television, now weekly illustrates new combat tactics, but all with a short expiration date and all with a short vision of the immense battlefield (if the idea of ​​war is to prevail. ). In the exhausting expectation of the inevitable Dpcm, the drama of total legal uncertainty is consumed, a lethal bludgeon on the sense of the State that Italians are losing completely, due to the total impossibility of all of us to keep up with the law. In the run-up to the decrees (those that will be replaced by the decrees a few days later), now ad horas prohibitions are announced with the ease of those who believe, in their hearts, that they are dealing with a mass of morons who can change the rules of I play every few days and without too many explanations.

Finally, let's move on to the chapter of moral teachings, of sermons on Christmas in perfect country provost style: all at a strict distance but we remain united with hearts. Well, bravo, bis … said the famous comedian of the past. We won't have a penny to buy a panettone and a toy for the children because we can't work? Patience, the pundits had already announced it to us: it will be a Christmas full of interiority and a sense of family (restricted to the first degree of kinship or else we get a fine) and maybe, on the fake Christmas tree we will hang Enel bills, of gas and the tax bills. Those won't be bogus. Unfortunately.

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This is a machine translation from Italian language of a post published on Atlantico Quotidiano at the URL on Fri, 20 Nov 2020 03:41:00 +0000.