It's hard even to define them, and they're the first who defy labels. They are the young men of the extreme Right, a well-blended galaxy, although extremely reduced. Even if all the groups with an official political activity joined together, from Rauti's Fiamma Tricolore to Forza Nuova by Fiore and Morselli, they wouldn't reach the 2 or 3 per cent. It happens because many of these young "Righters" don't recognize themselves even in these formations, they couldn't even accept the classical definition "Left/Right": they feel themselves "over" or, as someone says, simply "fascists". They are in a large majority just in the grounds' stands, but that's the "trash" version of their real philosophy: a deceptive first impact, as they are much more cultured than it is usually expected. Whoever wants to portrait them, should drop any kind of judgement or prejudice and just accept to set aside the "politically correct" category, also because, behind often undefinable ideas, it happens to discover very good and warm persons, that wrong foot who believes to have to do with the worst part of politics, a few fanatical and violent racists that would just deserve prison, more than comprehension. To feel somehow different, often despised by a society that they disregard too, could represent a common denominator of this archipelago. They read books that nobody reads; they sing songs and hymns not belonging to public memory; they aspire at cultivating originality at all costs, a kind of extreme individualism that could easily become blood ties when they recognize each others like fellow men. Starting from a political principle, it is easy to drift onto a more anthropological and cultural approach that, in many cases, is pure "aesthetics", term that doesn't frighten them. Beginning from the look: they reject the shabby pauperism ascribed to the Left, always looking for a form of elegance, sometimes lugubrius and too military. It's hard to follow a coherent political thread; it seems useless trying to go into the muddle of a world's conception simply unsustainable. It's better to focus on the expression of a rejection, the refusal of the existent, in the name of something that doesn't exist anymore (and that perhaps has never existed) or that could be (and maybe will never be). Crushed by the thousand traps of this western world that seems to go straight toward the Nothing, the extreme Right young man clings to a practically impossible diversity. This is the reason why the young Righter loves the tragical heroism and the useless sacrifice, as well as the glorious and losing death of the defeated knights, as the American Sioux or the Japanese kamikaze. The myth of strenght and violence appears as the only way to reach the truth in a world that kills you with false smiles and well-mannered people: that's why football supporters, although rivals, do "respect" each other and don't accept the "bourgeois" legality represented by the police force. It's always like walking "borderline", in the extreme Right universe, amid many contradictions, sometimes denied with persistency, but always evident. Although distorted and even politically repugnant, this world is a mirror that speaks about us. As Seneca said: "Nihil humanum mihi alienum puto": nothing of human things could really be stranger to me.
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