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The new "Mugoša Show" entertained the local population again these days. Whatever he says, the pseudo-mayor seems more like a stand-up comedian than a serious political persona. That's how he seems to be perceived by a good part of the political elite - that must be the secret of his political survival.

It's a pity that some of the domestic television stations (in which, even in the leading positions, they don't have to be a "classic fool" or a "gangster") do not convince the pseudo-mayor to turn the city parliament into a new type of reality show. That format would certainly experience regional success, like Piramida once did.

Imagine constant transmissions not only from the hall of the city parliament, but also from the parliamentary clubs, corridors, cafes where councilors sit. Their agreements, waving to the DUP and what not... Then, for example, a meeting is scheduled in some attractive place, for example in Las Vegas. The audience closely follows what is being done. After all, it is easiest to conclude any kind of marriage there. Nobody cares about emotions, motives, you just need to be ready for anything. Imagine - what would be done around the chapels with a priest dressed as Elvis. And in front of him – Mugi and Slaviša. Embraced, embraced, as Frano Lasić said. And three more are waiting behind, if the bride changes her mind, to rush into her place.

I think that such a reality show would be a hit. Maybe all these shops would seem somehow more benign in such a context... Well, if the newlyweds don't want it, the priest doesn't have to be dressed like Elvis. It can also be like Milo. Who blesses with wide hand strokes... While singing "In The Ghetto".

The political trade here is a really interesting phenomenon - it cancels out almost everything human. The doctor Mugi kicked out of his job is now on his side. A politician who became stateless, too. It is not so difficult to draw correct conclusions about such and such an anthropological substance. "Trade kept us going, thanks to it" - a true verse for local political workers... Until the next supply and demand.

And a little more about shopping and trade... And the quick waiters of this regime. About freaky reality programs whose duration has already exceeded 24 hours a day. How? Don't ask, this is Montenegro. Anything is possible. Magloid has proven that it is a form that can be adapted even to printed form. Only if you're big enough a fool to put your name under it.

The textual orgy in the series of texts written by Marko Šekijev, occasionally but persistently, is exactly in this and such a magloid spirit. However, the man does his work from another country - which means that he, in fact, only adds to his creations what his tipsters (addicts-trainees?) tell him. Although the author does not really try to hide them - you have already heard whole paragraphs of (his?) text from this or that pathological liar with a patriotic mission. What is the paid love for power called here. So these texts should be seen as a self-portrait of a bazaar. Extremely accurate. Admittedly, when one sees how much education and talent there is in that literary and bazaar watchtower, it is clear that one cannot do otherwise. This awareness cannot go beyond the typical palanquin contextualization of kinship. It is, in principle, the pinnacle of petty-bourgeois and bazaar ontology. As we know from Radoj Domanović - and all these are just the right characters for him...

MV is the way Podgorica bazaar writes a love letter to itself.

There is no disease that can save him from this, which can be taken as an explanation... The first Udba feather of Montenegro - a title that MV fought for in a very tough and numerous competition. And it should be unequivocally acknowledged to him... He deserved it, and it was his own.

Montenegrin political-bazaar coalitions have long been reminiscent to a good extent of the marriage from Las Vegas. But, actually, a much bigger problem is that the whole country looks like a trash quote-hotel from that city.

And intellectuals, where are the wonderful Montenegrin intellectuals, someone will ask. They are there of course, but maybe you didn't notice them because they are wearing waiter uniforms...