can not always run well, some minor setbacks, sooner or later, has to happen. Fortunately, what prevented me to go to work as usual this week, is one of those serious but not serious. Very frightened, in short, but could have been worse. Fact is, more or less stuck at home, I started to follow the Teletext, which recently avoided because of anxiety problems that I had to mention ... and if it puts forward the view that the next term, the league will be even more powerful than it is now, I do not know what to do that. However, it is not my intention to discuss the political situation, the usual rigmarole of tape, always equal to themselves, and of Cicchitto Capezzone and Bersani and Peter and many now are so desperate boring to merit no comment. Nor am I interested in talking about the transmission of the revelation, that "come with me" led by one of the worst couples ever (the always ambiguous and increasingly saviano doormat Fazio). I'm just glad to see the tummy that is causing all'azzannatore police and the suffering from distemper forward to marriage. Rich rewards to those who guess the identity of these two individuals. No, no, no politics, this time, if only because I'm not going to vote in March. Yes, back in the ranks of the abstainers. Unless you are a true progressive white as Rufus T. Firefly. I prefer to share with you a reflection on a couple of seemingly unrelated news. The one you should all know: the five immigrant who, he of Brescia, climbed up a crane to get permission to stay. The loop had yet to beat the news, which already centers, unions and other onlookers were in a procession to bring their "solidarity". What happened on the most useless of social networks, or faccialibro, I can just imagine it, because from the cloaca up to humanity I keep well away. A hive of little logo, small group, badges, proclaim such as "we are all immigrants" and so decerebration. Why Solidarity on the Web is so beautiful and not binding, allowing among other things to get around comfortably syndrome "NIMBY." I'd be curious to know how many of those who send the message Page eurino with care for the baby then go and serve a hot meal at the soup kitchen, or to purchase the bracelets inevitable that the inevitable look immigrant of delivering just sticking its head out of the car parked in a cool place. Thomas Labranca in a beautiful "Collateral" which alas I have not kept, quotes the case of a woman in Romania, fully integrated, killed during a robbery a few weeks ago, talking about how none of Protestants so much per pound had risen a voice to condemn the incident. The woman in question, as fully integrated and leading a normal life, was not doing good handle on the operetta by the usual supporters of the unfortunate on duty. And here we arrive at the intersection with the five migrants on the crane. Sunday, just in the hot days of protest from Brescia, a farmer commits suicide seventy, in Treviso, in despair at the failure of its small footwear company. Two lines on teletext. That last blink of an eye. No demonstration of solidarity ciggiellecisluil-centers-grillini-IDIV-straccionidaltraestrazione. No little logo on facebook, I guess. So, it's just an entrepreneur. A master. A Marchionne in pectore. Who cares if he commits suicide, will certainly have got some skeletons in the closet, so do not think that is the people who are so indignant. Much better to focus on migrants, the homeless, the laid off; here, especially on the latter, they are victims of unscrupulous employers. The father shaking the bag of seven hundred euro a month in front of the camera makes us feel so close to him, the union that supports it, and convinced him to join, has found a way to tap 10% of the monthly annuity starvation. Happens then, perhaps, that the owner of the company calls pasionaria in the workshop, to demonstrate that it is not all that insensitive monster they think. Ringing the Ipod, exhausted by hunger and laid off ordering his wife to turn down the volume of plasma big screen on which is watching marcuzzi lead the new round of instruction in the beasts of the Big Brother house. The children, in the other room are silenced with an exclamation; need to do all this mess, while playing with the newest game in the PS12?? Puffing, the pater familias cassintegratus touches the touch screen. Ehylà, boss. What, back to work tomorrow? I can not. I have already booked to go skiing with the family. No, no, there are also next week, we are on until late December. But what do you think that I am here waiting for you to call me? I have my own life, I am here waiting for your mica comfortable, dirty capitalists! The receiver gets banged hard on the fork. The pater familias cassintegratus back muttering to read the comments of solidarity on his Facebook profile. And waiting to see how many there will be when the director, the bastard, I will fire through negligence. Who knows why. -The news of the day: Maroni wants a face to face with Saviano. Analysts will need a week to distinguish it from the other end.
-Quote of the Day: "Do not just do good, we must also do it well." (D. Diderot)
THE COUNCIL OF THE WEEK:
Moon
Duncan Jones,
with Sam Rockwell, Dominique McElligott, Benedict Wrong
Sci, 97 minutes
Released in 2009. Or so they say.
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