"The smell of tear gas has become the basic experience of an angry, let down generation" - with this title, 444 violated reality, honor and good taste for the thousandth time, just like the increasingly poorly paid and increasingly mature prostitute of the high-natured American services.
Let's look at "generation" first.
First, some math.
Because according to the left-wing (yes! neo-Communist!) and liberal (yes! liberal-fascist!) narratives that do permanent violence to reality and honor, "16-17-year-old children" and "young adults" were present at the Carmelite monastery, so 16 and 22 years I browsed through the population data of the KSH, according to which roughly seven hundred thousand people in this age group live in Hungary today.
He went to Carmelita to sing hot songs and provoke, to play plush Che Guevara and die-cast József Cserny - let's be generous - two hundred idiots. Of course, they don't even know who Che Guevara is, who József Cserny is, but they certainly know what genderfluid is, and let's face it, this is also knowledge.Well then, two hundred fools.
The number of this generation is seven hundred thousand people. One percent of this is seven thousand people. The 0.1 percent is seven hundred people. Two hundred is less than a third of that. In other words, 0.03333 percent of the generation was there to vent their frustrations at Carmelita. Rounded up. Of course, 0.03333 percent of a generation of 700,000 people can be called the generation itself, only for that 444, Sándor Czinkóczi, Libsi, Komcsi, to be a real, honest rapist - sine nobilitas, sine patria, sine gender, sine cogitatio - and everything is fine now.
But let's also take a look at who made up this 0.03333 percent "generation"!
Especially the stupid kids of the elite high schools in Budapest (whatever that means today) were bloodied in front of the prime minister's office, they came straight from the mama hotel, from the fluffy pillows of the middle class, upper-middle class, they never had a real problem, the deprivation, the they don't even know anything, they've always had everything pushed under their butts, they're soft, unwilling, but they're bored, so they can be used brilliantly by the brainless gnats who call themselves politicians, traitorous scoundrels and shockingly insignificant nobodys - everyone choose the right one for themselves From Fekete-Győr through Hadházy to Gelencsér and Tompos.
This is the 444 generation. Then we cleared that up.
Let's also see how this generation has been let down.
Well, very much. But really.
Free education, free textbooks, free school meals, repayable student loans, unlike in the United States, which do not have to be repaid if you have children, tax exemption until the age of 25, a bunch of discounted loans, social security, village social security, baby loan, tax exemption for large families - well, this generation let me down so badly. My generation would have benefited from such a letdown. And our parents' generation too. But unfortunately, they didn't let us down so badly, so we didn't have time to be stupid.All we have left is regime change. Real stakes, real risk, real existential threat, real faith, loyalty (fides) and real courage. This kind of thing comes in handy, because it then becomes the experience of togetherness, which creates a real generation, a real community, and ideally a real nation.
The 0.03333 percent of a generation is now performing a weak imitation, a splashed edition, a parody of everything, these unfortunate wretches are used by the neo-Marxist-liberal herd, the other 0.03333 percent, in order to make themselves noticed by pushing them in front of them, and to make it seem that as if it were. These are the yellow plastic waves on black closed sections, which the NGOs are trying to install on the beautiful Art Nouveau palace of the Hungarian national community. This is what they have always done, this is the essence of their existence. It is enough to look at what they did with the wonderful palaces and castles of the aristocracy, then they tasted it with satisfaction and clicked on it.
Well, these are there every week at Carmelita.
And - fortunately - they don't have the brains to ever see that what they're doing is completely counterproductive. They absolutely disgust themselves with the nation, which of course they cannot even understand, which they really hate and despise, with which they have and never had anything to do with, which they believe must be surpassed. One of their green role models is the German Vice Chancellor Robert Habeck, who said:
"I always felt nauseous when I heard the word patriotism. I never knew what to do with Germany, and I still don't."
These are like that. It's all like that.
And that's exactly how you should treat them. With endless patience - of course, there is no such patience that these cannot bury, never mind, we'll see what happens next - and never understanding. Anyone who claims that these things must be understood is completely mistaken. There is no need to understand because there is nothing to understand about them. They need to be treated. Rejtő teaches how to:
"However, Mr. Vanek, who only knew that he had luggage equipped for legionnaires above his bed, was a little surprised when he found only one cigar box marked with a name. Would this be everything a legionnaire needs? Wasn't this Petrovich wrong again?
Someone spoke next to him.
- I didn't even get to introduce myself: my name is Fedor Würfli, a dance and etiquette teacher. "I'm glad." There is… there is someone here who is also Fedor. My name is Petrovich. "Isn't his alias Gorchev?" - No. My nickname is Petrovich. Gorchev is the real one. "And Tintoretto?" - What do you want? "I say, Tintoretto." Mr. Vanek blinked in confusion for a while. "Are you Italian?" "I'm Swiss." "Unfortunately, I don't speak Swiss..." He took off the cigar box. "This little luggage is interesting," he said.
Mr. Würfli smiled indulgently. - Let's not push it... - There's no need. I just cut the rope, that's enough, so… um. Please tell me, is this a complete legionnaire outfit? And he took out the contents of the box: two used paper clips, a piece of asparagus, some dummy keys, a corkscrew, and a lot of cigar ends. "Maybe," said Würfli. "I haven't received the equipment yet." "Why is a corkscrew important in the desert?" Mr. Vanek wondered. "And why do they provide soldiers with fake keys and cigar ends?" "Perhaps tobacco leaves are used as medicine." Because the African soldiers all get scurvy.
Mr. Vanek shook the box nervously. - I did not get. Or if so, they stole my scurvy from here. Mr. Würfli stretched his neck curiously. "Is the symbol inside?" - What should I do? asked Mr. Vanek in astonishment. - Put the three pieces together. - What kind of piece... - Well, the one he keeps in the box. "The cigar ends?" "Don't joke, please." Twist the three together and blow something. "Good," encouraged Mr. Vanek with a reassuring smile of a gentle neurologist, "then I'll twist the asparagus with the clip and blow..."
Well, my dear friends, 0.03333 percent of a generation needs to play something nice with the reassuring smile of a neurologist every week at Carmelita. As long as the patience lasts.
Then we'll see...
Featured image: CÖF/Péter Mészáros
