Belpesti Heraklesek from bal...sz utca.
At dawn, the Karmelita split. The sun shines back on him, the day of the frog-mouse fight. He was confronted by a stupid bastard, with a smelly sponge in place of his brain... That's how it all started. Third time now. Our protagonist: Dr. »for a horse...a« And the pinch team, experts in electric rollers and solar panels. All of them are heroes of our time.
Until now, the biggest problem in their lives has been whether there are any soy-free lattes, but they imagine themselves to be Heracles. Belpesti Heraklesek from bal...sz utca. The world they imagine for themselves has already rotted before it was created. A bald censor once entered their brains, but he quickly moved away, because even bald censors can't stand twelve months of darkness.
The sun never rises there.
These little piggies have never lived in a dictatorship, they have no idea what fear or risk is, they were not soldiers, and because of all this, they are convinced that they dragged the whole world out of av...lags.
»My son became a neurotic, he couldn't stand the changes, / and I look at my grandson, I see that he is a weak figure, / how will these be survivors? Something is going wrong here. / I would like to ask who will know Hungarian here in a hundred years? / And as I look at you, none of them are concrete, / they fly away to the first wind! What will happen? - I ask.«
Tamás Cseh's song is about these. Just and exactly about these.
And now they are going to break the cordon. Unwrap. Risk? Nothing. In the meantime, they take selfies and show other women and their sons what heroes they are. Selfie heroes, mosquito swatters, little rainbow hussars. They ride the zeitgeist, which is a gender-neutral sheep, while trying to make a face like Clint Eastwood staring into the sunset.
But it doesn't work very well.
They manage to look more like Oriza Triznyák, when the hedgehog sniffs out all the scents from their roses. A bunch of soft...cs, a door-sized s...head. Now they are trying to play military games, because when they were kids, all they could do was press buttons on the computer.
They are led by Hadházy. Nothing is more typical than this - do I need to say anything more, Ildikó?
Hadházy, whose unhappiness has driven him crazy a long time ago. Throughout his miserable youth, he stood on the sidelines with his brand new lastie under his arm, hoping to be put into the game once, just once. But they didn't take it. And at the carnival ball, he never broke a sweat when answering the ladies.
Is it any wonder it turned out like this?”
Source: Mandiner.hu
Author: Zsolt Bayer
Photo: Márton Mónus
