Wednesday, January 19, 2011

How To Do Up Double Belt

FRAGMENT ON RUBY MARIA GRAZIA




This time Berlusconi is over. History will remember an underage homeless as the one who dropped one of the richest and most powerful on the planet.

An "invisible", a "bare life" Agamben would say, a gorgeous body but that does not exist as an identity,
sans papier and then without a trace and without recognition, in the hands of institutions that tossed from one community to 'other (the last vestige, in hindsight, the host community and detention centers of power than before the law Basaglia the state could exercise, under the pretext of security, protection, care, about innocent lives, free, released, and for this potentially treacherous for the hinges and the mesh of the system), the man who kneels to the visibility and power has made his banner and his armor.

On the other hand, if Cleopatra had been bad or inhibited, or if the Countess Castiglione, the vulva golden age of the Risorgimento, had been coy with Napoleon III, the story would have taken different routes.

"They pay me to talk, they pay me to shut up. I have become rich." Without having read Wilde, Nietzsche, Pirandello, has, in its own way, their genius, rather unthinkingly embodies, implementing it, making it hard cash. Where is the reality, where the ghost.

Perhaps no one will ever know the truth. The Cavalier lie, as he called Raboni, felled by the same ambiguity, indecisiveness by the same media (which are typical of our age, not only of our country) of true and false, fact and illusion, which has built and sustained his tottering empire shaped blank of light, insubstantial splendor of crude and mercantile nothing.

you, just be aware of "an ass" (she is ready to strip, spontaneously and defiantly, in front of the police as Thais in the Areopagus, or as Caterina Sforza before the soldiers threatened to kill the children), just the his humiliation, his weakness, his nullification of its liability has been able to do your own secret explosive weapon.

One can only hope that she is not (like poor D'Addario, devastated by life before, his copy, or misrepresentation, then the media), in turn, swallowed up and devoured by the system of communication which it is served with wild wisdom, with bold sparingly, while venendone exploited, and that that system almost impersonal, with its logic above, it will backfire against her as against the one who more than anyone else if they have benefited - indeed it has helped create it, or at least to which it is now, it becomes so empty, annoying, obsessive with his buzz and his troubling background noise and ruthless, they crush each and every life event to make them disappear into a hazy cloud of dust to pieces.

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