class is not water
NoonDecember 28, 2022 – 08:54
Of Riccardo Vigilante
December 27th is a no-man’s land. A free space in which the image of the January school can’t even take shape. And meanwhile in the afternoon, hanging around aimlessly, I find myself in this new shopping center. I need everything and I need nothing, as always, but really I’m here mainly for the name. Antif they call it, the centre, and when I heard it for the first time I thought of an anti-fascist garrison in the heart of consumerism, but, faced with my perplexed expression, two of 5 F have already explained to me that Antif stands for Antifashion, as if to say Contromoda, and then I simply nodded. This is called Megaemporio Carraturo but you call it “Antif”! It fits, it fits…, I added, like when I try to imitate the boys’ talk.
And in fact, Antif has all strata of marginal consumers and rather than alternative subjects there are those who would like to follow the fashions, but they don’t succeed much. who buy products that are too cheap or slightly behind the current season.
Or how bad they match each other – which don’t form a system they say today – or in any case simply bad with an intensity far above the average. And even the burgers are worse and they definitely water down the beer. And in fact, since the laws of society exist, and whoever researches them doesn’t need to pound the water in the mortar, Cardamone appears at the height of a faded parapharmacy and as if nothing had happened he attacks with some theory of Marcuse’s that I will have explained to me already a dozen times.
Luckily, who do we cross after two minutes? The Cute-Guinzella couple, as cheerful and effervescent as ever.
Cuozzi mission, prof!, they answer laughing.
And then they explain that when they are a little down or simply bored they come here for a ride, right in this shopping center here, because all the worst cuozzi and the most showy vrenzole are concentrated here, the saddest examples of violation of good taste in any product sector, I understand, and so the two of them have fun, cheer themselves up and feel better.
I look at Cardamone as if a bucket of water had been thrown at me, but the theorist has his eyes turned up, is engaged in an internal dialogue with Marcuse and hasn’t noticed a thing. Back to Cute-Guinzella. At school I like them, I find them promising in their own way: Cute, brisk and intelligent, Guinzella who wrote that love letter to her missing boyfriend who I still remember. Here for now, on the afternoon of December 27, amidst the lights and music of the Megaemporio Carraturo, they seem to me just two spoiled and mean girls. Without even a professor who explained to him, in all those hours between the desks, that racism calls for racism, that those who suffer from contempt perish from contempt, that life is too hard to blame anyone other than you, here are some platitudes of this type.
I feel like a mussel too!, I feel like suddenly replying, by the way making a clear mistake in the etymology of the term. I’m short, black and absolutely static… I stick to the rock of some solid conviction and I stay there!
They understand that something is wrong. They know that no explanation will follow, at least here, among Antif’s Christmas carols. And I’m in a position to leave without permission. And so best wishes, happy new year prof and they spin away. In a moment I also get rid of Cardamone, with the promise that I really start these holidays with Marcuse. And so I throw myself into the flow: for the Cute-Guinzella duo we are peasants, cafardi, tamarri, cuozzi, vrenzole and pathetic civil servants all together. For the new year we will have to find a way to teach them something new, I think.
December 28, 2022 | 08:54
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