#Bandan

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Robert Alda, Erykah Badu, The Beatles’s 1970 HEY JUDE (AGAIN) LP, Lazar Berman, Buffalo Bill, Michael Bolton, Bunny Briggs, Jonathan Cain, CL, Dane Clark, Jaz Coleman (Killing Joke), Paul Cotton (Poco), Ida Cox, Mark Dacascos, Fats Domino, Bill Duke, Cyrus Faryar, William Frawley, Jackie Gleason, Hagood Hardy, Bob “Bear” Hite, Victor Hugo, Betty Hutton, John Harvey Kellogg, Husband E. Kimmel, Marta Kristen, Christopher Marlowe, Max Martin, Seth Morrison, Michael Pate, Pepe, Corrinne Bailey Rae, Tony Randall, Nate Ruess, Mitch Ryder, Doug Sandom, Schubert’s 1869 Symphony No. 4, Levi Strauss, Dub Taylor, Yōsuke Yamashita, and the legendary singer-songwriter, musical pioneer, actor, and Bible scholar Johnny Cash.

No matter where I went as a kid, the “boom-chicka-boom” of Johnny Cash and The Tennessee Three were playing in the background, with emphasis on the Sun sessions and the prison albums. Cash was one of the unifying sound-streams amongst family and friends who’d, otherwise, never agree on what to listen to. With his own brand of rebellious humility, he sang about the temporal and the eternal, intertwining the world view of a hardscrabble working man with that of a mystic. Throughout my life, in consistent and sometimes surprising patterns, Cash spoke to me about spiritual matters, even if I didn’t get it on the first pass. Musically he proved that stark and simple could be amazingly effective. HB JC and thank you for being a role model. Please enjoy my cover of “Ring of Fire”…

#birthday #JohnnyCash #ringoffire #juncarter #merlekilgore #bandan #oregon #johnnyjblair #SunRecords #prison #tennesseethree #arkansas #dyess #fire 

[rxhouse]

requested to be drawn 🐛

[rainsyru]

huey definitely thought the earth was flat as a kid

tbh I don't think he even thought that far ahead lol

[earlyzakariya]

Forcing my fav characters to follow my cultural holidays to celebrate fuck yeah anyways happy raksha bandhan to everyone remember to be nice to your siblings or something, my sister added beads to mine and its pretty epic 🔥

I cant draw these two getting along but here they are engaging in cultural traditions at Toriel's insistence (they were promised besan burfi if they participated)

[tumpadumpling]

I- I wrote another thing

Kirby & Bandanna Waddle Dee friendship inbound (1,314 words)

Kirdana not intended ‘cause i personally see kirby on the aro/ace spectrum and this is supposed to be a ridiculously fluffy found-family piece, but as long as you don’t see them as siblings then i guess its free starspear real estate

✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰

A fantastic, sweet smell wafted through the halls of Castle Dedede, warm and sugary and deeply cake-y, Kirby thought dreamily from his perch on a counter. He was busily licking a batter-covered spoon and trying his best not to add too much to the mess that currently littered he and his friend’s sweet-covered workspace.

The castle kitchens were empty save for the two, the quiet place instead filled with the sounds of clinking measuring spoons, rattling double boilers, and ticking timers as they worked. Steam and house-dust clouded the window’s sunbeams, filling the room with a toasty glow.

He and Bandanna Waddle Dee had spent half the afternoon working side by side, busily cooking… something.  Kirby wasn’t really sure what it was; to be honest, Bandanna seemed a little shy about answering his eager questions, but to him at least it looked like cupcakes. They had a wrapper and pretty toppings just like one, but usually they were a lot bigger: these couldn’t be any bigger than a strawberry.

Leaning to get a better look, he plopped the now-spotless stirring spoon in the nearby sink and asked, “Are these fairy cupcakes?”

“They’re petite-fours, Kirby, a Floralian dessert. Though, these’re probably not as good as the real deal from a bakery,” Bandanna answered humbly. “They have way more layers, I’m sure.”

“They are pretty for cupcakes!” Kirby confirmed, completely mishearing the dee, and focused entirely on the tiny desserts that the waddle dee was mixing and pouring so delicately. The wrappers crinkled as he put on, what Kirby hoped, were the finishing touches.

His friend seemed to blush a little, but he still hurried to correct him. “I guess so, and thank you, but they’re called –”

“They’re so tiny and adorable! I like this one.” Kirby pointed to a white one with rainbow pastel sprinkles. “It looks like Bubbly Clouds.”

“Yeah, I guess it really does,” the dee pondered, voice hushed. He cleared his voice, tapping his cheeks as if to disperse the growing heat. He was really red now, Kirby thought. Did he think he wouldn’t like the fairy cupcakes?

That was silly! Anything made by his friend makes it the best ever. Full stop.

“Anyway, you wanna be my taste-tester, Kirby?”

“Oh, do I!” Kirby squealed with glee. He took the fluffy white one from the tray, and with a flat look from Bandanna Waddle Dee, he slowly unwrapped it before carefully eating it in one bite.

Kirby could practically feel his eyes dilate as the tiny patisserie melted in his mouth. He bounced excitedly, knocking the empty mixing bowl off the tile counter with a clatter. He nearly tipped off himself had Bandanna not nudged him back onto it.

Kirby tasted the vanilla cream first, cool and fluffy. Kirby gave a little squeak of joy as he felt the little star-shaped sugar bits in his mouth, before a layer of crisp, dipped milk chocolate took over. Then vanilla returned, this time as a layer of dainty, almost eggy custard, before suddenly blueberry jelly, sweet and smooth with a touch of sour, filled his mouth. And then apricot jam– sugary, light, and so refined, Kirby thought – slowly but surely swept in like an ocean with a lazy tide. When Kirby couldn’t resist the urge to finally bite down on the magical dessert, there was another delicate little crack of chocolate, followed by the soft little crunch of still-warm shortbread cookie.

Now mostly sure that Kirby wouldn’t crack his head on the stone floor, Bandanna Dee was twiddling his arms nervously as he watched his friend practically transcend in front of him. “Was it okay?” he asked timidly at last.

“Okay…?” Kirby murmured, mind still far away in petite-four heaven.

Okay? Oh, they were way more than okay.

“They’re absolutely amazing!” Kirby gushed, determinedly pushing past the sweet-induced euphoria of Bandanna’s delectable cooking, before he grabbed another and hurriedly pushed it towards his friend. “Here – you try, you try!”

Bandanna Dee took the wrapped treat in his hands gingerly and slowly unwrapped it. He popped it in his mouth, and closed his eyes.

After a few moments, he reopened them, and sighed. He walked over to the trash bin and tossed the wrapper. “They’re alright. I could’ve matched the flavors a little better, but they’re pretty good.”

What? That was… so not true. Even when closed, Kirby could see the wonder flit through his friend’s expression at the magical not-a-cupcake.

Could… Could Bandanna not see it?

Of course he couldn’t see the look on his own face, that’d be silly; but it was really strange, Kirby thought, as he slid carefully off the counter top and stared at his friend’s disappointed look. As he watched Bandanna Dee’s face morph to one of confusion, and finally, embarrassment,  he only became more and more flabbergasted.

How on Popstar could his friend not see how amazing his tiny cupcakes were? How amazing all his desserts were? By the way he was blushing earlier, you’d think the poor waddle dee had never gotten a compliment in his life.

It all seemed kind of familiar.

Dedede had told him before about the awful little voice that lives in some people’s heads – no matter how well they do, no matter how wonderful they are, and especially no matter how kind and sweet they are, that yucky little voice would never quit bullying them. He sounded far too knowledgeable about it in that moment for Kirby’s comfort, and it was scary then, but now...

Kirby decided he really didn’t like that little voice.

He looked his dear friend in the eye. “Bandanna,” Kirby began to talk very seriously, face in a grave pout. And then he jumped at the bewildered waddle dee, hugging him tightly, twirling him a half-turn and started talking a mile a minute with the biggest grin on his face to match the joy in his eyes.

“They are the best things I have ever eaten. Ever! You made up the combinations yourself? They taste like hanging out with you! And I can tell you, there’s nothing better than that!”

Bandanna’s eyes lit up in shock, and so did his tomato flush. Direct hit!

“I’ve been to those fancy bakeries you talked about, and they’re good, but these are way better! You’re the best chef I’ve ever met, Bandanna!”

The bashful dee was speechless, and merely hid his eyes. Kirby kept going.

“It’s like eating all my favorite flavors one after another, all at once! It’s amazing!” Kirby let go for a moment to ecstatically hold up another petite-four. “And you decorated them so beautifully! Look, this one’s just like a strawberry!” It was, indeed; a berry-red one with chocolate shavings carefully arranged like seeds all across the top, with two tiny mint leaves stuck just under the cream. “It’s just the right size, too. It’s sooo cute!”

Kirby finally let up in his bombardment to watch his friend practically melt into the floor, hiding his blushing red mess of a face under his bandanna. It was positively adorable, Kirby thought, as he plopped down right beside him.

“You don’t have to make fun of me,” the waddle dee whined. The puff patted him on the arm. “Really! A simple answer would’ve been fine.”

“Nope! It wouldn’t. Because I meant every word I said, and then some,” his friend declared earnestly, leaning almost upside down and peeking under the blue cloth. “You’re something really special, Bandanna Dee, and more people should say it.”

“Thank you. You’re really special too,” the little dee whispered.

Kirby giggled, hugging him again. Bandanna Dee was warm, almost worryingly so, but that was probably just the embarrassment that was even still turning him into a little puddle on the floor. And all from just a simple compliment! If Kirby had any say, that little voice wouldn’t be sticking around long – in his friend, or anybody.

✩⋆｡°✩๋࣭ ⭑✰

oh my gosh thank u for reading this far!!! you are literally the coolest person ever and i appreciate you. I am sending you virtual love and flowers with my mind. this is absolutely not the most nuanced work of fiction, but i had fun with it and i hope you did too. Have a great day!!

[thedaisywonder]

Rakhi finally pahhoch gayi chanda mama!

[jojo-schmo]

I don’t know how far you want to go with your story (perfectly up to you), but I was wondering what ideas you had for if you ever get to ‘Forgo Bandan’. What would the mask look like?

He’s got a Primal Awoofy mask >:3

These drawings are old and the design is subject to a few tweaks by the time I get to that part in the story. But I have every intention of telling the Roleswap story all the way to the end. 😤

[napszemuvegbe]

En nem teljesen tudtam kovetni a fekezhetetlen agyveleju orban balazs eszjarasat

A mosakodos videojabol csak az nem derul ki, hogy miert volt 56-ban igaza a magyaroknak amikor felvettek a harcot az oroszokkal, es miert nincs 2022 ota igaza az ukranoknak, amikor felvettek a harcot az oroszokkal.

Szinte erzem az egesz bandan, ahogy izzadnak, es pakoljak a lencseket es tukroket 56 kore, hogy megfelelo legyen az optikaja, de latszik hogy baromira nincs kitalalva a narrativa.

Valojaban ott van a kognitiv disszonancia, hogy amit a fidesz bekepartinak hiv, az valojaban struccpolitika. Orban ki is mondja explicit: "nem akarunk a konfliktus resze lenni". Ez nem bekeparti. Valojaban teljesen mindegy neki hogy ki fog gyozni, vagy hogy hany ember hal meg.

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Robert Alda, Erykah Badu, The Beatles’s 1970 HEY JUDE (AGAIN) LP, Lazar Berman, Buffalo Bill, Michael Bolton, Bunny Briggs, Jonathan Cain, CL, Dane Clark, Jaz Coleman (Killing Joke), Paul Cotton (Poco), Ida Cox, Mark Dacascos, Fats Domino, Bill Duke, Cyrus Faryar, William Frawley, Jackie Gleason, Hagood Hardy, Bob “Bear” Hite, Victor Hugo, Betty Hutton, John Harvey Kellogg, Husband E. Kimmel, Marta Kristen, Christopher Marlowe, Max Martin, Seth Morrison, Michael Pate, Pepe, Corrinne Bailey Rae, Tony Randall, Nate Ruess, Mitch Ryder, Doug Sandom, Schubert’s 1869 Symphony No. 4, Levi Strauss, Dub Taylor, Yōsuke Yamashita, and the legendary singer-songwriter, musical pioneer, actor, and Bible scholar Johnny Cash.

No matter where I went as a kid, the “boom-chicka-boom” of Johnny Cash and The Tennessee Three were playing in the background, with emphasis on the Sun sessions and the prison albums. Cash was one of the unifying sound-streams amongst family and friends who’d, otherwise, never agree on what to listen to. With his own brand of rebellious humility, he sang about the temporal and the eternal, intertwining the world view of a hardscrabble working man with that of a mystic. Throughout my life, in consistent and sometimes surprising patterns, Cash spoke to me about spiritual matters, even if I didn’t get it on the first pass. Musically he proved that stark and simple could be amazingly effective. HB JC and thank you for being a role model. Please enjoy my cover of “Ring of Fire”…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZZJGxy-65NU

#birthday #JohnnyCash #ringoffire #juncarter #merlekilgore #bandan #oregon #johnnyjblair #SunRecords #prison #tennesseethree #arkansas #dyess #fire

[t4c0c4tr4dst3r]

one 4 nugget, magolor, and bandana waddle dee? :3

New Self Ship Reblog Game

Reblog this with a picture of your F/O and I will assign them a flavor/type of soda. (Three max please.)

[veveisveryuncool]

LATE BUT!!!! WADDLE WEDNESDAY LETS GOOOO ft bandee because i love him sososoososososo much

guess HWAT I have so many headcanons for this kiddo:

he/they bandee all the wayyy

bandee is really good friends with whispy woods, they’ll hang out with whispy at least once a week to just chill and talk, and whispy gives bandee a bucket full of apples in return

he has small hair floof!!! waddle dees are fluffy creatures and poor kid has a terrible cowlick that they have to take care of (or just slap a bandana on)

one day. they will lose it. one day bandee will snap and decide it's time to stop being nice. that day draws closer every day.

him and sailor dee are siblings!! they have a rivalry over who has the cooler job, is the better assistant, etc

abble juicew

out of him, kirby, and dedede, bandee is the one who speaks spanish most fluently (kirby actually understands it pretty well but won't shut up about chicken, and dedede can't pronounce for shit). he picked some of it up from meta knight during RTDL and mk agreed to keep teaching him

bandee and meta knight are really close and every friday, meta knight takes them out to kawaski's and trains him with his spear; bandee thinks mk is the coolest fucking person ever

bandee loves art and drawing but only does anime-style

they used to be on deviantart with adeleine in 2014

bandee's got so many nicknames (mainly from kirby): bandana, b-dee, ban-ban, dana, andy, benny, bandan, BW dee, b-man, etc. he responds to anything that vaguely resembles his name (most of the time he gets it right)

dedede taught him how to play chess, and he is getting better. very slowly, but better nonetheless. soon, bandee will be able to defeat dedede. one day.....

i want to give bandee a big smooch on the forehead and squeeze him like a stressball

[mishajeans]

Scarlet bandaned turtle stole someone's curtains.

Also Scarlett from "Gone with wind" in her dress of curtains!

My references are sudden. Like a salmon in a blueberry bushes.

[vigilxnte]

Chapter 1 Part 1

What if? TWD EDITION

Hi guys. This is Chapter 1 Part 1 of my what if series. Its main protagonist will be Rick's daughter Y/N. I'll let you all work out the rest. This is an on going series so please stay tuned. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the first part.

Approx 900 words

Negans whistle surrounded us ,like prey, as we forced our way through the tress. It was as if the branches wanted us as dead as he did. My father guided us, while i clung onto Maggie. She was trying her best to keep up, as the pains got worse. "Come on Maggie not to much further, right dad?" I reassured her as I held all her weight on my shoulders. My dad, Rick, ignored me as we all ran in a frantic panick. The faster we ran I felt my legs burn with exhaustion. As the whistling got louder I grew more with panic. Today isn't the day I accept death. Not after all we'd been through.

We turned a corner as one of negans men appeared from the bushes. It was like hunting a boar during hunting season, except we were the ones being hunted. Running in a different direction we haulted in an opening to catch out breath, looking around, searching for an escape. Suddenly the whistling stopped. I looked at my brother Carl who seem just as confused I was. "Are they gone?" I questioned, breathless to the group. they all appeared just as unsure as i did. Abruptly, lights began appearing around us, simultaneously, almost coordinated. Light peirced through my retna, almost burning the back of my skull. Squinting, I held tight on to Maggie, who too struggled for breath and vision. Behind the light I could make out 100s of men, stood by cars of which the light sourced. They surrounded us like hawks ready for the kill. But what stopped them? Between the shining lights a camper van positioned itself between group that surrounded us. Turning, I saw more crowd from behind us, some of them making their way to us, before slamming us to our knees and removing our weapons from hands and pockets. I let go of Maggie as they forced us apart placing us into a line.

From the line of men and cars surrounding on stepped forward almost giving us a once over to ensure we were alined 'perfectly'. He eyed us down one last time before he spoke "alright, we got a full boat" pausing for dramatic pause "let's meet the man" gleefully walking to the door of the camper to knock. Knock, knock, knock. Silence was all around, even a walker would have been some what comforting noise in this moment in time. The camper van's door banged against itself, as the silouette of an unknown man appeared from the hovering darkness. He stepped from the camper as his foot fell heavy to the gravelled ground. Strutting his way over to us, fitted in a leather jacket and smug grin on his face. A red bandaner positioned above the closed jacket. A hand tightly fisted a bat, covered in barbwire as it rested against the mans broad shoulders.

"Pissing our pants yet?"

Thank you for reading and make sure to leave a comment if you have any ideas I could add for future posts.

[sterling-501]

𝐻𝒶𝒾𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈

SUMMARY: Hunter’s senses swallow him whole, overwhelming him to the point of exhaustion. Sterling senses it too, his discomfort practically radiating off of him. So after the squad lands back on Ord Mantell, the ship empty and quiet, Sterling decides to try and atleast take away some of his pain the best she can.

(JediOCSterling x Hunter)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Sometimes I wonder what the Kaminoans were thinking when they created Hunter with the abilities he has. Sure it’s a useful ability to have but in retrospect, they serve more as an inconvenience than anything else. It swallows him whole when we aren’t on missions, even when the rest of the squad doesn’t see it, I do.

And Tech also, our shared glances when we see Hunter vacating to the Marauder when we aren’t needed by Cid anymore . Or the way his body slouches as he goes to sit at the bar, his fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he winces at Wrecker’s laughter ringing off the walls. I want nothing more than to take it away from him, to be able to just put his curse of an ability in a jar so he can live quietly, even if it’s for an hour.

I asked Tech if there was anything that could be done for it to at least be more bearable for him, if there was anything I could do to take some of the pressure away, especially when it gets to the point where he gets migraines.

“A viable solution would be to have something for him to ground on” he stated as he briefly met my gaze, pushing the bridge of his goggles up his nose before looking back down at his Holopad “whether that be white noise or if you were to physically distract him from the discomfort” He said, his fingers tapping away at the keys “you mean like…a head massage?” I asked, heat rising to my cheeks “precisely” he agreed.

Tech and I’s conversation lingers in my mind as I see Hunter sitting in the Co-Pilot seat of the Marauder. We landed not even 10 minutes ago, the rest of the squad having left to go get drinks, Omega and Wrecker having gone to fulfill their ‘tradition’ as they call it. His Force signature feels like one large scribble as it vibrates mercilessly around him, his muscles wearing thin as his senses continue to exhaust his body.

I get up from our shared bunk and make my way over to the cockpit “Hunter?” I ask gently as I place my hand on his shoulder. A faint grunt being the only response I receive as I move around to face him, leaning down to kneel in between his legs “hey” I whisper, not wanting to overwhelm him even more so. Hunter's furrowed brows harshly etch his face as he squints his eyes open to look down at me “hi there” I voice, an empathetic smile pulling at my lips “i can help if you’ll let me?” I ask, my left hand gently resting against his thigh. He nods slightly, hands caging his head, the sight itself pulling at my chest. I get up and outstretch my hand for him to take “come with me” I say as he takes my hand, his balance in vertigo as he stands. I lead him down the ship to our bunk hand in hand, squeezing it slightly in reassurance. I turn to face him, again that exposed vulnerability that only I ever witness, it lining his face and filling his eyes to the brim. He looks exhausted, overwhelmed but curiosity tinges his features. “sit down for me yeah?” i gently encourage before hesitantly letting go of his hand “are you able to take off your armor?” I ask as he sits on the edge of the bunk, a brief nod being all he gives as he begins to remove the durable material.

I watch as he unclips and removes, helping him with his boots and shin plates until he’s left in just his chest plate “lift your arms for me” I ask as I grab the lip of the plate, pulling it over his head “what are you planning hm?” he humors slightly, his gaze unwavering even through his lidded eyes, a small smirk lining his lips. I smile back down at him before placing his chest plate beside the bunk, I kneel down to his eye level before reaching to untie his bandana from around his head “I found out that one way to help you when you’re like this is head massages” I respond simply, placing the fabric on the bunk before I duck to lay beside him, moving against the wall of the ship “lie down” I urge, his head turned to meet my gaze.

A brief look of gratitude paints his face before he makes his way down to lie down next to me, his body partially laying on mine before moving his head to rest on my chest. I feel his muscles relax and body let go, his arms resting on either side of my ribs. I give him a moment to ground himself, to let the rise and fall of my chest settle him somehow. A moment of warm silence passes before I move my hand to gently brush through his hair, caressing the loose strands that fall across his face. I then gradually guide my nails softly across his scalp, repeating the motion leisurely across his whole head. He sighs softly out of relief, his once mangled force signature has now fallen limp, I feel it swift into the soft rippling of water, his calmness soothing the air around us both.

“Tech recommended this didn’t he” Hunter mutters after a moment of stillness, his voice cracking under sleep “maybe” I say, his chuckle causing my lips to falter into a smile. “I owe you one” he says, his thumb gently rubbing against my side as a show of thanks “no you don’t” i decline softly, my fingers continuing to rake gently across his scalp, his brown hair threading its way in between my fingers “you do enough” I say quietly. He hums in response, sleep slowly lulling him away.

You would think that his face is always carved with worry and stress, but when sleep comes and takes over, his face falls so softly. That being the only time where his brows aren’t stitched together and his lips upturned in worry.

It somehow feels wrong to be able to see him this way, in a state of such stillness and peace. Solace sometimes looks wrong on a face when it’s constantly painted with so much grief. It’s like you’re seeing them for the first time. But then you remember that the grief was never self inflicted and that their solace somehow needed to be earned. With Hunter that will never be the case. Solace and comfort will be given and never begged for.

[they-deserve-more-screentime]

Gryll Propaganda:

They've only appeared once, serving as the secret final boss in "Kirby's Star Stacker". Aside from that they've made a few small cameos but never re-appeared as an actual character.

Look at this creature. Observe how they exist. I would like them to exist more, that is all.

Bandan Dee Propaganda:

Bandana Waddle Dee from Kirby deserves more screen time! He is a good side character :)

[generalevannacci]

Andrea Masala

Ci volevo dire a Ernesto a Galli a Della e a Loggia che anche oggi l’insegnante di sostegno che era in classe con me alla terza ora sta prendendo, in questo momento, un treno per tornare a Priverno. Lo fa tutti i giorni. Prende un regionale a sue spese alle 5 di mattina e ritorna col regionale alle 8 di sera. Fa da mangiare ai figli, li prepara per il giorno dopo e li saluta perché non li vedrà a colazione ma a cena.

La stessa cosa l’insegnante di sostegno della quarta ora. E quella della quinta ora. E quella della sesta.

Con uno Stato che non solo non gli organizza un lavoro vicino casa, ma neanche gli associa allo stipendio (vergognoso) un abbonamento per treni veloci. L’alta velocità non è per la bassa manovalanza.

Ogni santo giorno un esercito di insegnanti di sostegno e di maestre elementari si sottopone a questa tortura per uno stipendio da fame, decurtato dal costo dei trasporti. Cambiano le destinazioni ma sempre verso un sud ad autonomia differenziata reale, parte di una quistione meridionale che si approfondisce sempre più, di una secessione di fatto che non interessa a nessuno.

Tra loro anche prof ordinari e perfino presidi.

Ogni giorno le famiglie romane possono avere la certezza che le scuole accoglieranno i loro figli grazie a questa migrazione quotidiana, a questo import-export di competenze e cura.

Altrimenti sarebbero chiuse.

Ogni giorno le stesse famiglia possono leggere sui giornali dei benestanti un intellettuale benestante che insulta chi si prende cura dei loro figli.

Perché accettiamo tutto questo? Per lo stesso motivo per cui abbiamo accettato la precarietà più estesa d’Europa, la fine del servizio sanitario pubblico, la cacciata dei giovani dal paese, i salari più fermi d’Europa, il territorio più devastato d’Europa, l’aria più inquinata d’Europa.

Qual è questo motivo? Semplice: pensare che il problema sia la destra che si chiama destra e il suo personale politico e non le cose di destra che fanno tutti. Essere ingaggiati da 30 anni in questa crociata quotidiana fatta di bandane, olgettine, treni fermati, golpe quotidiani… Una crociata-fiction in cui ci siamo arruolati, lasciando soltanto un momento la nostra vita di là, nel camerino già vecchio, tra un manifesto e lo specchio.