Of Roberto Pecchioli

Source: Heretically
Stop Italy, I want to go down. One of the problems, getting older, it is no longer being able to understand what we see. The codes to decipher the new reality slip out of our hands, one feels like a stranger, inadequate and we end up withdrawing into ourselves. If "they" see it, we remain spectators of events that happen despite us and of which we are unable to identify the meaning or direction. How to watch a Bengali film in the original language. This is why so many of us want to come down.
Little Italy has become Italiaccia. For a couple of days we had three governments. The one in charge "for the handling of current affairs", as the bombastic and subtly humorous formula of the official protocol states, that of “the president” by Carlo Cottarelli, official of the International Monetary Fund, as well as the one unwelcome to all oligarchies, led by Professor Conte with the participation of the sinister Bolshevik, fascist and anti-European Paolo Savona. The Jesuit training of the head of state made it possible to resurrect a theological category that had fallen into oblivion, that of sins committed with thoughts, parole, works and omissions. The trial of the intentions of the diabolical octogenarian Savona, ready to exit the euro 48 net hours (?!) however, it allowed Italians to see more clearly.
The good Mattarella presented himself to the people to claim the stop in Savona in the name of the Markets, revealing – holy naivety – who is the guarantor and president. The European Commissioner with a German passport, HerrOettinger, he too was struck by an attack of sincerity, he growled that the Markets will take care of it (always with a capital letter!) to teach the Italians, small, neri, dirty and stinking to vote properly. Even Juncker, perhaps betrayed by the Belgian beer, he revealed opening words how annoyed the inhabitants of the country are, slackers, maintained, corrupt (very true, but in crowded company) and many other things.
Said by a Luxembourg hierarch, small state very prone to the worst financial troubles, above and below the table, the only response is Tonio's to his cousin Renzo Tramaglino. The betrothed, repaired to Bergamo, he complained about the nickname "baggiani" given by the locals to Milanese people like him. The expert Tonio replied that, in the mouths of the people of Bergamo, it was like calling a monsignor extremely excellent. The insults and torn skirts of the Italian journalistic vestals have been archived, the bitterness remains for a shattered nation, a State in the hands of at least inadequate personalities, ruling classes even worse than we imagined. So, stop Italy and let us get off. We want to look at it from below, from the keyhole this unrecognizable Italy that makes us nostalgic for every past.
In just a few weeks we have seen things that you Italians of yesterday would not even have imagined. We observed them as perplexed spectators who know little and imagine a lot. What we see first-hand is such a profound and accelerated decadence, in the present terminal phase, which truly resembles the spasms of agony. We listened to proud "servants of the institutions" invoke the intervention of the postal police to report and condemn those who attacked the presidency of the republic via computer. Insults, threats, vulgarity does not belong to us, must be rejected without hesitation. But this is the reaction of power to popular sentiment: police, intimidation, repression. Mozzarella-anchovy, it seems like the motto "facite'a ferocious face", but above all keep in mind that you, the Democrats of the best water, you have a duty to accept dissent. This is not the coat of arms, il what is more important of democracy compared to other regimes? Otherwise, that verse from a battle song from many years ago will be true: "Democracy, democracy, It's your thing and not mine. Democracy because you are in charge.”
We want to go down, because your Italy is truly the one that has given its worst in the last incredible weeks. This is the "country" where an ice cream maker is fined 516 euro (one million of the old coinage, the monthly income of many pensioners and as many "flexible" young people) for not having beat the receipt for the free addition of cream to an ice cream cone. Sorry to continue, but it is also the place where the writer, returning from a scary accident in a motorway tunnel, he was fined because the rear seat belts were not properly fastened, circumstance not ascertained by the diligent reporting officers, but spontaneously reported. A terminally disabled acquaintance will shell out 250 euro for not displaying the appropriate permit in the car park, which he kept in his wallet and showed to another zealous savior of the country. Dura lex, sedlex, when it's convenient, easy and involves no risks. Sanction confirmed, the traffic assistants are poor souls who earn if they bring money to the municipal coffers. They call it competitiveness, it's a must of the current system, which thrives by pitting its subjects against each other.
An arrogant official Italy with the weak, slimy and servile towards the powerful, indeed flexible, in the sense that it bends willingly. Millions of his children he forced into rented labor, to the intermittent one, on call (on demand, like the television card!), part time, determined, distributed and occasional. You are sure, solons of the system, that the populace, what a cultural cleric of yours, Ilvo Diamonds, branded as “popocracy”, he would have liked a "neutral" government directed by the high official of the strong powers Carlo Cottarelli, including a Forza Italia deputy (Berlusconi's ruling class...) he said: he behaved like a prince?
In the frenetic days of the government crisis, the arrest of a vice prefect for corruption goes unnoticed. We really hope for a miscarriage of justice, but what about the privileged caste to which he belongs? The old prefectural Italy of Giovanni Giolitti resurfaces, underworld minister. At the Milan Certosa station they decided to carry out a serious operation to check travel documents. tombola: 87 are 87 checked without a ticket and is not interested in knowing the nationality, because we also have tricolor scoundrels and profiteers for export. Instead we export brains, willing young people who go to build a life far from Mattarella, pensioners determined not to donate blood to ungrateful Italy (income, taxes, rights, healthcare etc) even in the autumn of life.
Who has us (s)governed until today continues in delirium. After boring us for months with the black plots of the 21st century, invented the fascist danger from scratch, one of them, the inexhaustible minister Delrio, he gives no peace and accuses Matteo Salvini of a fascist. He's a good doctor, maybe he should prescribe himself a few drops of Lexotan. In the winter of the First Republic, Mino Martinazzoli, a sad-looking man from Brescia, last DC secretary on the run, he received similar insults from communists and post-communists. With perhaps involuntary sarcasm, he replied that the accusers were really in bad shape, if they couldn't distinguish the Christian Democrats from the fascists.
But Italy is screwing itself up. The past does not pass, the present makes you cry and the future is scary. Please, stop this terminal Italy, let us come down to become exiles or stateless. Maybe we're too old or stupid to understand, perhaps we are too low to see the magnificent and progressive destiny of the "country". We have earned a bizarre hope, the new Matteo company & Gigino. If they fail, all we will have to do is suspend ourselves as Italian citizens, confessing ourselves guilty of the rubble pro quota. Who knows if the Markets grant the passport.