The Editors are right: people are fragile, we should know and be careful of what we submit that the. I always try to keep that in mind, but unfortunately sometimes I forget. Especially when it concerns myself, let's say I have a tendency to overestimate my strength!
This time, deaf to the entreaties of my meniscus, I dragged my old Silent and tired limbs in a three-day fire in Rome, winning the Editors of the concert, a tour of the capital and the manifestation of B Day No In theory it should not be nothing too athletic: we had booked a B & B close to Theatre concert, which was located on the map Urbe ass, and then move increasingly using public transport. But we did not come to terms with the landlord, in the literal sense!
As you arrive by train, we expect to solertissimo the hotel, that in a Aho and a pat on the back of the taxi drivers in a row there kept us very happy to announce posto, allo stesso prezzo stracciato, in un suo nuovissimo hotel proprio in centro. L'albergo è effettivamente centralissimo, la camera a dir poco lussuosa, il personale gentilissimo... solo che quando chiediamo indicazioni su come raggiungere il teatro, suscitiamo reazioni preoccupate: "ah regà, q.lla zona llà nun è pproprio bbella 'a notte, sete sicuri che c'avete pproprio d'annà?" Si, siamo sicuri. "Vabbè, è fascile: prennete er tram n.14, scennete ar capolinea d'a prenestina, annate su dritti pe viale tojatti e poi traversate. Ma me raccomanno, regà, non date confidenza, non state a sentì a nessuno!"
Ok, prendiamo il cestino da portare alla nonna, pull on the red cap and we start jumping. Scennemo ar terminus, Annam on straight avenue, not Damo confidence wolf (anfame!), and after a good Sgambati in the middle of a tundra species (which littered mollichine for the trip), we finally arrive at the theater. We jumped in, and our boldness is rewarded by an enjoyable concert with performances by groups already shoulder Wintersleep and Maccabees, which give two very different but compelling interpretations of alternative rock (the first I liked most from the echoes of indie rock, the latter would not disfigured at the Summer Jamboree).
On stage, decorated with strange Pupino (Gormiti lovers too? mah...), arrivano poi Tom Smith & Co. Un'ora e mezza di musica e divertimento, fra vecchi successi e nuovi pezzi più elettronici che, dal vivo, rendono decisamente meglio: in this light and on this evening, an end has a start, you don't know love, bones, bullets, the boxer, the big exit, escape the nest, eat raw meet=blood drool, smokers outside the hospital doors, like treasure, when anger shows, the racing rats, you are fading, bricks and mortar, walk the fleet road; e come bis munich, papillon, fingers in the factories. Ho cercato di stare buonina, ma quando hanno attaccato la mia preferita non sono riuscita a trattenermi ed ho iniziato a saltare come the rest of the audience, which is heated gradually, but then he has not stopped since. Result: large-scale production of endorphins, but spitefully patella kneecap out of place ...
Following mollichine under a nagging drizzle we go back (more or less limping) at the bus stop and discover with horror that no longer pass trams, buses are all directed to the warehouse, and that night there is no trace. We look a bit ', then we must accept the sad reality and started to walk toward the center. 7 km of oaths avoided thanks to the great heart of the Romans and my face cu .. riosona: we meet a fact which is petrol and I wonder if you can give us a shamelessly tear in the center. Unfortunately, it is practically got home, he says, and confirms, however, that the direction is right. Small consolation, we thank him and leave again. But we feel sorry for him, because after we hear a car that combines a few meters: it is he who is moved to pity, it brings us to the Termini station. Too bad not to know his name, but thanks anyway again, dear motorist blonde you picked up four chilled creatures, telling us that you would have married Saturday and then so you would not have stayed, even one thousand one thousand GRAZIEEE!
The next day, after the disorientation to awaken in a room of stucco and studded with red brocade curtains, we leave to visit Rome Capoccia. Rains, try to do the indifferent with our raincoats, but eventually give in to the weather and we Refugees from friends emigrants home for an afternoon dedicated to upgrading the native village gossip. Back at the hotel in an atmosphere of Blade Runner, including rain, illuminated windows for Christmas with the homeless huddled under a few passers-by shivering at the mercy of crazy traffic, and an impressive array of police in riot gear have to be vigilant empty squares. .. Rome, the nun is stupid tonight!
Saturday but the gods of civil protest are definitely on our side, a sign that the weather is a lump of subversive left. It approfittiamo per fare un giro veloce ad ammirare Fori e Colosseo baciati dal sole e fingerci tranquilli vacanzieri. Tuttavia qualcosa ci tradisce (non so se il capello lungo da dissidente di Silent oppure la mia mise viola da capo a piedi), tanto che veniamo accostati da due impavidi rappresentanti dell'ordine che ci chiedono i documenti, li osservano, ci intimano di aspettare e spariscono per un quarto d'ora buono! Dopo essere stati doverosamente schedati, ci rechiamo in Piazza della Repubblica, dove il popolo viola inizia a radunarsi. Ci raggiunge il più grande blobber da manifestazione che la blogosfera ricordi, armato di macchina fotografica e spirito critico, e ci avviamo.
Apart from the well organized nuclei of the few parties that have officially joined the event, there is everything from kids to old people, men women children, with posters of all types (most home-made undeniable wit) and all shades of purple. The atmosphere is festive but combative, there is music and dancing but also sound invective against our Prime Minister and the whole Italian political class in general. I look around and see people swarming from all sides, and already sogghignamo at the thought of the ridiculous numbers that give the police: the fact that, according to them there were only 90,000 , but I was there and on arrival at Piazza San Giovanni we can not even to enter, dobbiamo raggiungerla dalla strada laterale ma anche così avvicinarsi al palco è impossibile.
Salutiamo il blobber e ripartiamo con un dubbio ed una speranza. Il dubbio riguarda la reale incisività della manifestazione: ok eravamo una marea, ma nulla comunque in confronto alla maggioranza silenziosa degli italiani, quella che crede a tutto quello che passa la TV e che coltiva un il proprio orticello ostentando ermetico menefreghismo agli ideali ed ai problemi del paese (salvo non esserne direttamente toccati, nel qual caso trovano facilmente un capro espiatorio negli immigrati, nei comunisti, nel nemico pubblico di turno additato dai mass media). Loro non manifestano, non partecipano, non domandano: sanno benissimo che il re è nudo (And goes to whores with public money) but they do not care (even envy him) until the ration provides the right amount of promise amazing, well-being micragnoso and reassuring stability. To them we will always be the protesters girotondini pathetic, and as long as they vote at the polls will be compact as we continue to disintegrate in a constellation of minor stars: just to say, the B Day No abbreviations were as Marxist-Leninist Party of Italian, Collectives Communists, the Brigades of Resistance ... were already old in 1946, someone update them please!
Hope we respect your pathetic girotondini: maybe this event so unusual, and by people born from the Net common in stark contrast to the moldy opposition parties (all so taken by exchanges of favors and power struggles by not being able to see how real people are now totally alienated from their politics) will serve to shake them from their haughty complacency, and force them to think that the upcoming votes, the party could win the purple card. My hope (weak, naive, idealistic as you want) is that the purple people has given a jolt, not so much to Berlusca (capirai. ..) when our mummified opposition "" Queen of the world "- ie the force public opinion as it is defined in a beautiful book of the French sociologist Jacques Julliard (Princeton) - went away with the scene, has closed to parties, has made her run after those. And if you lag behind those of the aged on their own feet and limped twentieth century, the "queen" has run move with great strength and agility thanks to its super-turbo called web .
so be careful, you mummies you can not even pretend to do more in opposition to oust Berlusconi might fail, but you will ... The electorate of the left is fragile, you should know: Think carefully about what you're doing go look at the e. .. consequences !
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