I think more people need to adopt this motto.
It is an old, Italian fascist motto (hear the alarm bells?) that Mussolini pointed out as defining very much the sort of attitude that must be embraced. He was inspired by seeing a photograph of an Italian WWI soldier who wrote ‘Me Ne Frego’ (I don’t give a damn) on his bandages with his own blood. Songs, patches, badges and pins have been emblazoned with a skull and a knife between its teeth (sometimes a skull with a rose between its teeth) and the words ‘Me Ne Frego’ boldly inscribed.
Regardless of how you think of the origins, I find the use of this motto to be inspiring — these three words help sum up the winning spirit, the warrior’s tenacity.
It is an attitude that I think more people ought to be raised with. No more laying down. Just standing up, moving forward, facing the hopeless night with knowledge of one’s impending doom and going forward boldly.
I remember every difficult circumstance which my father faced in his struggle for a decent job was encountered with such an attitude — some things are out of control, sometimes we fall on our faces; me ne frego.
The hypersensitivity and the victimhood that people ascribe to themselves makes me sick.
Our military is not full yet we have able bodied idiots taking hand outs from the government — is this what society should be made of? These people squander the life that God has given them and cheat the rest of the citizens.
In hard times, why do we turn to the government? Why do we look for a bailout? Why do we desire a sob story?
There is no dignity in inactive, self-pitying attitudes. There is no dignity in passivity.
If us humans are animals, spawned forth from the chaos and brutality of the Kingdom of the Beast, how have we come to such a point where we are so stripped of our fighting spirit?
Life must be nurtured at times, but there is also the hour of blood, the fight for survival; the strength to move on in the face of resistance and to feel the courage of one’s own despair.
It is as Henrik Ibsen wrote in his play, Enemy of the People, that the strongest man is he who stands most alone and cares not for the support of others but with certainty of his own rightness and propriety to face the indolent masses.
No respect for the quiet conformist following the mainstream line of thought, safely tucked away in the recesses of a group that he is not really a part of. No respect for the silent masses walking slowly as cattle to the graves that all our lives lead to.
So you are born gay; so you are handicapped; so you are poor or tired or defeated. Why care? Why victimize yourself and accuse others of your position — why not fight for what is yours, ignoring your wounds? Why not tattoo it on your wrists, wear it on your sleeve — why not be You, in front of the Normals, heart full of pride, eyes full of rage?
I am sick of sob stories and sick of people pretending that humanity was meant to walk lightly on egg shells pampering every corner of our society.
I am sick of Peace. I am sick of people capitulating to the forces of evil — a good man without a backbone is about as useful as a lame horse. How can someone accept limitations and weakness in their personal lives — are you so pathetic and prideless to receive your handouts, your bread and circuses?
Nations die when they accept quiet servitude and pamperings.
We must be helpful and sympathetic with others… But the notion of feeling sorrow for onself is disgusting. Being the helpful and sympathetic person makes one the triumphant, the Mighty; it is they who receive as much, laying down, being nursed, that are the pathetic creatures that need to readjust their aim and rekindle the fire within themselves.
There should be an inherent desire in the human spirit to face impossible opposition in the name of proving oneself, in the name of overcoming and the feeling of triumph. It would be hard to wake up without viewing this life of ours as a war against unknown forces and a long campaign against the nature of the world itself…
It is disheartening to think we live in a society that deals in pitiful condolences, handing out sympathy coins and welfare checks.
I am not happy unless I feel my triumph or face my battle.
Earn your lot; ask for nothing more; stand defiant in the face of defeat. Ask for nothing else.
I am disgusted by the blind beggers walking up and down the subways looking for their handouts… There are others, who are blind, who forge their futures defying their handicaps. I toss you my change and hope you understand that this is no way to spend your existence.
When you receive my sympathy and my hand out, you should feel embarrassment and not satisfaction.
I am disgusted by legislation meant to baby and protect, meant to nurture a warm, tingly feeling of “tolerance” because you feel isolated or alienated.
There are some of us who seek social alienation and tribalistic fraternities because that is what builds up our identities and our strength, what feeds the animal within us and insures us, in our youth, of our firy spirits and determination.
This is your life and by pursuing such pathetic goals you prove your own pathetic nature.
Me ne frego.
I cannot respect any person who cannot look me in the eye and speak with honesty about themselves, who conceals facts and who avoids unpleasant situations and would rather give up
Everyone should strive to be hard as nails.
Complaints are what you receive from prepubascent children. Hard looks and obstinate refusals to be helped, stoic determination and death-like glares are what you receive from people who value their lives and value their efforts to the extent that they seek not your help.
I respect criminals and gangsters more than I respect welfare cases.
When life gives you lemons… Buy tequila, rub some salt in your wounds and tighten your helmt chord.
No more generations raised on their mother’s teats crying over spilt milk and social alienation.
I will not ask you to fight my fights — I may ask to borrow your knife.
Ever since my youngest days I have desired to butt heads and seek out conflict with those around me.
I need no law meant to protect me, I need no consideration from bureaucrats in ties; I need no salvation from any human source.
Me ne frego.