twelve o’clock, November 6, 2021 – 11:02
from Diego De Silva placeholder image
Self-representation (more precisely self-promotion) is one of the great (in an exclusively numerical sense) categories of this time.
Appear, show yourself, share (one of the most abused verbs of recent years: what sharing do you see when publishing the photo of a steaming chop or the self-timer of a fool who is dedicated to any domestic occupation? of one’s home means sharing?): these are the watchwords of an era in which everyone speaks, writes, contradicts, lectures, corrects, reviews, judges, promotes, rejects, authorizes and denies, even without qualifications or skills. I have (metaphorically speaking) a microphone (internet), so I speak; not: “I know what I’m talking about, so I try to say it (perhaps by choosing an appropriate location and not the courtyard of my account), and let’s see if what I say finds ears available to listen”. We could say that the great diffusion of the word on the net has translated (deforming its meaning) freedom of speech into freedom of nonsense.
This compulsion to appear at all costs (which are often the costs of others), is the alibi to which aspiring protagonists of the present appeal, who gain visibility with initiatives that aim to clear customs the improper weapon of bad taste. Attracting attention by any means: that’s the mission. And who cares if the sensitivity and pain of those who have experienced the greatest tragedies that history has consigned to collective memory are offended. Who cares about collective memory and history. Symbols that recall the martyrdom of millions of innocent people.
This is what we saw in the sequences of the recent No Pass demonstration in Novara, where a group of demonstrators tied by an artificial barbed wire paraded in the street wearing bibs that replicated the uniforms of those deported to Nazi extermination camps. The disapproval for the shameful initiative was (at least that) unanimous. The attempts to retract the juxtaposition between disobedient to the green certificate and the victims of the Holocaust are ridiculous (“But what concentration camps, we wanted to stay focused”: never heard such a down-to-earth scramble on mirrors).
Net of the repulsion aroused by the monstrous performance, one wonders how one can (but really materially) make those harnesses without feeling disgust for one’s hands, seeing them engaged in such an unworthy work. Does the categorical imperative of “As long as we talk about it” pushes to such low levels? Do these self-proclaimed defenders of the freedom not to exhibit the green pass think they can afford any symbolic abuse by trusting in collective indifference, as if society had filed away the sense of the sacred and was unable to be indignant in front of such spectacles?
Not so, fortunately. We are a country still capable of disgust, as long as we retain the sense of memory.
November 6, 2021 | 11:02