Attention! We have entered the new, this time carnivalesque, period of abusive media power and the middle finger raised. A shining example, the economy of time and speech of Economou! Useful as a revelation. It shows how, and how the young Casidians will look and be, when they grow up and get a position in a company or a show. Like Dimitri. They will abhorrently renounce the satan of the cop order ’fuck them«, but not »kill them«. This could be described more seriously as Prudish far-right paganism.
It is the syndrome that often occurs in insecure, media-identifiable people who look at the monitor instead of the mirror. And they narcissistically whisper, «look how high I've gotten,» possibly even raising a middle finger to themselves in jest.
But it is also a whole sect of supposedly decent-looking imitators of the widespread 21st century trampism. They have even completely lost their sense of the ridiculousness of the contradictions they project. They are like suit-clad bullies of the salons where they work, so to speak, lazily, simply executing to the letter the scaffolding, the script, the narrative, the non paper, which reaches their tablets and their little mouthpieces from the geniuses of political communication. And they are looking for the holy Grail. Like the Hitler Youth once held power, outside and beyond any electoral process.
It is insulting to chameleons to compare them to these friendly lizards, because they do not adapt to the colour environment. They have the perception that they themselves are the environment. Black. To which they occasionally invite anyone who matches the colour of their tie. Six second nature. So on the seventh day they build the world to the limits of their ideological microcosm and bumble around in a miserable way.
One might wonder why the guests are going. First of all, because if the Carnival King thinks he has both subjects and a kingdom, you don't have to give him credit for it. Secondly, because you know it's not his. And third, you know that in the end, the carbuncle will burn. And at the end of the day, you always have the option of going unmarked, without owing or being owed anything in their, literally, air.
Now in the particulars, the Victorian moral explosion of the bull Economou against the red rag Kanelli, does not stand up to criticism from my side. I don't even understand, to some extent, why I made the news. What I should be surprised about. By the failure to observe ethics, rules, ... democracy, and other such heavy-handed things?;
A journalist who chooses corpses or wounded, victims or perpetrators, murderers of peoples or ideas, subjects, to say what he has to say, so as not to lose the air, also acquires the illusion that he can dictate or impose on others what they will say.. And he panicked. And he seemed to be a bit of a prick. Not the way his mother gave birth to him. But as each of us is slowly revealing our true selves on air eventually.
So when the air, the television air, cannot bear the reality of the facts, then they alone clear it up.. Instead, the air is polluted. And not just from tear gas. He censored these very facts. Not me. And that's the prevailing policy. Hiding the facts. But they're getting revenge. I went there to describe without a mask the harsh reality. So it turns out that the carbuncle when it can't take it, if it doesn't burn, it ignites itself.
By Lianna Kanelli
