Baseball, The Italian Way.
Some people worry around whether Muslims will one day overtake Italy, and force the Pope to flee.
Do you want to know why?
There was a time when, in Rome, Trannies went about their “business” at night in certain parts of the city. Typically, they would choose the most affluent neighbourhoods, where people wouldn’t come out with baseball bats to suggest that they remove themselves. These were also the years where it was normal to see prostitutes along many of the big urban roads, in broad daylight. Now you must understand that in Italy prostitution is not forbidden, but what is forbidden is: a) the exploitation and b) the enticement. Therefore, the constant moaning of the population was countered by the police with the simple statement that… it is not illegal to stand at the margin of the road. In fact, what they were saying is: “there is no political support for a turning of screws; which we would actually very much love to do”.
That was the theory. Let me tell you how it went in practice.
In practice, it happened that one rather well-remembered night a big number of Trannies “walking” in the wealthy “Flaminio” neighbourhood were accosted by what probably was one hundred or more utterly insensitive, gender-unaware boys with the above mentioned baseball bats. What followed was around fifteen minutes of very frank and constructive dialogue.
The Police intervened with unusual slowness. No arrests were made. To my knowledge, never were any of the suspects officially indicted (but I was living abroad). Everyone knew you can only pull out of your sleeve something like that if you have an organised troop at your command. Not many of those people. Actually, only one. Yep: that one. The one every Roman knew.
This man was never touched. He obviously denied any involvement. How can you only! I say! Well, I never…!
He died several years later, the rumour still lingering around him, and fondly remembered by many. I will not make the name. Not a saint, that one. R.I.P. May he laugh, pray and play with the Angels one day.
The Italian Home Office took the ball offered to it and (to stay with the baseball analogy) hit a home run. This is the Italian way. Out of illegality, make legality. Out of disorder, make order. The people have spoken. The truth is out. Order is needed.
Result? No more tolerance towards street prostitution. Free to stand at the side of the street, my foot. Police harassment, my cat. That time has gone. No more hookers or trannies on our roads, per favore. We now have to. It’s too dangerous for the public order, you see…
A brutal policy of harassment of every “woman” at the margin of the street ensued. Next time I came back from abroad, there were no prostitutes around anymore. Not one. It was unbelievable. I was also told that the newspapers reported the Trannies had disappeared from the Quartiere Flaminio. Disappeared. Spariti. Verschwunden. The “hope and change” was more apparent to me, because coming from abroad I could see the “before and after” in the most striking way. I couldn’t believe this was Italy. It worked.The right-wing people had big smiles. The left-wing people had to live with it.
This, my friends, is the Italian Way. You won’t like it because you don’t get the Italian Mind, or the Italian Problems. But I do, because I do. Some were scandalised, of course, and all of them leftists. But it was a “meh” scandal. A velvety-soft scandal. A scandal ex officio. Some complained about “right-wing violence”, but never too loud. They knew on whose side the Country was. The Country had had enough of that. Common sense had broken the dams of leftist hypocrisy.
I could make other examples (the Gipsies! The Albanians!), but this was the most brutal application of a well-known Italian principle: that theory is grey, and life is green. No Italian politician will admit this, and no one would ever go anywhere without knowing it; but this is Italy, too.
Life will find a way. Theory will have to adapt to it. When the rules try to rape reality and common sense, at some point the rules will have to yield; not immediately, and not before things have gone very far. But at some point, the rules will have to yield. And then it will not be the rules that run the game anymore. Think rather of the baseball bat. Or the anti-terror laws. Or the task force sent to Sicily.
As seen on an Italian screen near you in 1864-1865 (the astonishing brutality that put an end to the Brigands; not justifying, merely observing); in 1921 (the end of the biennio rosso); in 1922-1925 (the Fascist cleanup of socialists and communists); in 1925-1929 (the eradication of the Mafia in Sicily; the Mafia was then re-imported by the occupying Americans to counter the Communist menace among the daily labourers); in 1945-1948 (the liberal use of the police baton against the Commies), and in 1979-1982 (the no-holds-barred offensive against terrorism) and after 1992 (the massive turning of screws against the Mafia in Sicily following the murder of Falcone and Borsellino). The emergency laws after Aldo Moro’s kidnapping in 1978 are a particularly striking example of, well, baseball bat, and green life.
Make no mistake, you’ll see it again. Because it’s the Italian way.
Therefore, my friends, I am not afraid that the Mohammedans will ever overtake my Country. It’s just not in the cards. If they think that, they’re more dreamers than the Brigate Rosse terrorists. When the tipping point is reached you’ll see the baseball bats appear, and not a baseball ball in sight. No, really. In Italy you are considered a weirdo if you are a Vegetarian. When the dance begins, don’t think Muslims will have any form of mass support. Rather, velvety-soft scandal at its best.
I am, though, more afraid for other Countries. Countries who have far more Muslims for once, and far less “green thinking” population for second. The UK, where niceness is the only religion with a mass following, is a point in case. I am far more optimistic for the Frenchies, who do mass violence rather well. I am fairly confident for the Germans, who will start voting more on the right, ganz brav, until their own representative get the music.
But England? Scotland? Wales?
Meh. Could be. Possibly. You don’t really know. If they wake up, they will wake up rather late. The UKIP will be our thermometer to understand how far they are in their awakening process. Expect a lot of resistance. Expect that they awake only enough late in the game, that baseball bats will not be enough.
This here ain’t Italy.