Just a picture I bought at the traffic light.
I think it represents the ‘pagnes’.
Still, it is art.
Just a picture I bought at the traffic light.
I think it represents the ‘pagnes’.
Still, it is art.
On the blog indicated below I found some of Beppe’s poems.
I don’t dare translating them, perhaps I will try one day.
And the photo.
May be spreading poetry is a better use for a blog.
Riferimenti: The blog
Another recurrent rhetorical character is that one of the taxpayer. Among ‘international community’ labour forces we often look at him as source of inspiration and incentive.
We imagine the global taxpayer fastening his own belt in order to assist the international bureaucracy in its gigantic responsibility.
And we imagine his proudness when a well established mission renew its entire fleet of air-conditioned 4×4.
In these times of technological advance, it should be simply realizable our most genuine dream: to have in front of us in the office not the simple portrait of a wife and children, but a self-renewing frame presenting the faces of millions of tax payers, smiling to us with confidence.
The magazine Diario advertise itself telling that, if you (the reader) recently joined a dinner where someone pronounced the phrase giving the title to this blog, you really need to subscribe to that source of fresh and accurate information.
I like Diario very much, but lately I am quite keen in using myself that expression, as one of the key for interpretation of the global society.
Another one is obviously the idiom the cleanest has got scabies, adapted to describe the sector of public works as well as the political arena.
And the third one, much more optimistic and constructive is: who’ll kill us…..
It is surprising how many occasions you have to use one of these categories to represent events occurring here or in country.
And almost everyday you may also take advantage of them to describe your own deeds.
The other day the internet was down, therefore, after working time, I had to find another occupation before going home for dinner.
That’s how I started rereading my stories and decided to put together a book.
The objective is to get immortality.
To win the natural coyness to get public and the risk to seems pretentious, I had to add a long introduction, where I explain this concept of domestic literature.
I developed this definition in the eighties, in order to describe all that written production (literature, why not?) that may not be worthy of universal attention, but it is important for a little group of people, an intimate circle.
Then, I assembledĀ a Compendium of Domestic Literature. Again, I like it.