We were already defeated
09.11.2020
We lost. What if we won? Well, it wouldn't have changed much. The West is what it is now and the trend it has taken is unstoppable.
There has probably been fraud in America, but this does not change the substance of our condition. The future is progressive, whether we like it or not. Don't you think that everything that the Left has been sowing its seeds for decades will not triumph in the long run? Lgbttism, euthanasia as world population control, end of the traditional family, etc. they are our horizon. You don't have to look at the few ruins that shyly still stand around you, but what will be.
The process of subversion is long and had its beginning long ago now. At first, tradition was slowly destroyed. Meanwhile, some ideas began to spread. These have taken root and now we are - always slowly - seeing them make their way overwhelmingly and impose themselves. Resisting, mind you, will be of little use. Historical motion will take its course in general unawareness.
We are the losers. Our fault, useless to deny it. We have never opposed each other in a clear, fierce, passionate way. We just hoped things didn't turn out just as we knew they would. Now, it's too late for the wall to wall. It is like wanting to re-educate a child at thirty, after having always let himself be taken over by his intemperance during his childhood. One had to wake up earlier, be harder, not let anything of what the progressive rabble were proposing pass. Today, we have to keep Bibbiano, strange marriages, even stranger families, completely devastated human relationships, the broken up community, children scattered around the world, precarious workers condemned to an eternal adolescence of sadness, and so on.
No, really, if Trump had won - and he would have won by little, just like Biden - nothing would have changed in this mad race against a wall. The younger generations are born and will die progressives. A certain trend in them is no longer solely an anthropological product. That culture has become their second nature, the essence. Unless you kill them all, as Plato suggests, in the Republic, for those who have lived in a corrupt society, it will be difficult to go back. We always go “forward” once a movement has been impressed as a dominant force in the world, even if some do so with an eye to the past, like Walter Benjamin's angelus novus.
Deal with it, we will not die Christian Democrats, but progressives, gendrantly fluid, with a multiple choice test culture, with separated parents, divided in our very soul, with a fixed-term contract with life. God is dead, Marx is dead, the borders have fallen and I, you, or Trump can do nothing against it, just like everyone else to wait for the release of the new iPhone model.
If we could, we would have to die - pity only for all the Beauty that we would leave in the hands of their cancel culture. Or, with desperate pride, there is only one dimension left. Refusing the eternal peace of their world with neither high nor low, neither good nor evil, choose the path of restless existential revolt. Behold, to be men in revolt, individual creatures against everything and everyone. Living every day as if it were the last, in the awareness of not being able to avoid anything they have chosen for us, but trying every moment to be the spanner in the works, the breaking point, the gun in Travis Bickle's pocket in Taxi Driver. Yes, to be inexhaustibly against, the thorn in the side, the stray bullet. But don't count on others. Almost all of them are on the side of the enemy. From here on, you are alone.
NOTE - Matteo Fais is back, in this editorial of a desperation as much poignant as absolute. The feeling of an epochal defeat comes not only (not so much) from a possible defeat of Donald Trump but from that of an entire Western society that has come to an end. Disgust for these our modern times (even at the facts of Bibbiano [1]) mixes with the echoes of Junger and his “return to the woods”.
[1] For example: https://www.geopolitica.ru/en/article/angels-and-demons
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Original column by Matteo Fais:
Translation by Costantino Ceoldo