Opinion – Cozinha Bruta: Bolsominions turned barbecue into a fragile macheza circus

I wouldn’t even invite Jair Bolsonaro to a condominium assembly, but that’s not how international relations work.

I bet the United Nations didn’t want a visit from our toxic president either. It so happens that diplomacy is made of protocol, according to which the UN General Assembly is always opened with a speech by the president of Brazil.

In the pulpit, Jair brayed the usual lies and bit the mule quickly. He went to neigh to cheerleaders at a Brazilian steakhouse in New York. He climbed up on the table and repeated his campaign rudeness to the cattle that sat on chairs, skewers, and plates.

Jair has a special taste for barbecue and steakhouses. In the first debate of this presidential race, he had lunch with Veio da Havan and other minions at the traditional Laço de Ouro, in São Paulo. He left to boos and cheers from paying customers.

On Mother’s Day 2021, he wielded and displayed a wagyu beef steak sold at R$1,799 a kilo by a meatpacker in Goiânia. In January of the same year, the country music elite greeted him with the shouts of “myth” in a carvery in Brasília.

Jair took over the barbecue like a white male trench. There he fights the agendas that threaten the status quo.

Filling up on meat is an obvious affront to vegetarians and vegans. It clashes with environmental activism, as more pasture means fewer trees.

Barbecue, the social event, is a space protected from politically correct brakes. Herds of men can speak ill of fat women, make racist jokes, burp, fart and smear themselves in farofa – as Jair himself does and proudly posts on social media.

Political mouse, he just appropriated a trend. Barbecue – as well as the taste for motorcycles, craft beer and classic rock – became the flag of men in despair for the affirmation of their own virility.

He gives him whole oxen and pigs on a spit, displayed as hunting trophies. He gives him a leather apron, a half-meter knife and a cap with an embroidered skull to cover his bald spot. Give him a beard. Give him belly. Bacon!!! Jungle!!!

And then comes the drama of those who like barbecue and hate the reactionary mob. Barbecues bring conflicting feelings: awkwardness, discomfort and guilt.

It is necessary to rescue the barbecue from what is conventionally called fragile masculinity. Of this pathetic spectacle of flaccid maleness, full of phallic elements and lies about sexual performance.

I’m going to speak in defense of the family – how far we’ve come, oh, oh! – so that the barbecue can once again be a peaceful and welcoming meeting, with children and women, with conversations that do not result in criminal proceedings in other environments.

Beer and mineral water. Picanha for meat, zucchini for vegetables. Hugs, kisses and companionship. And may we all have money for a barbecue once in a while.

To take the primacy of barbecue from this bunch of squishy males, we already know what needs to be done on the next 2nd.

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