Friday, February 26, 2010

When bribery guilty acquitted David Mills went to hell

Stories and News No. 118

The Story:

We are in hell and it’s obviously hot.
Not as burning as it should and Satan complains to his mysterious advisor...
"Have you lifted the boiler as I told you?"
"Sure, your wickedness! It’s on the maximum level…"
"It’s all because of that bad pollution…" the devil says angry, sitting at his desk and opening the register.
"What?" the man exclaims, standing next to him. "You should be happy! If humanity doesn’t respect nature is another sign of your victory..."
"Victory? What victory?! We are finishing the oil, stupid! And when it will happen, what will we put in the boiler?"
The advisor approached the huge Satan’s ear and whispers: "Well, we could do as those above do..."
"Are you serious?! Are you talking about alternative energy? Wind, solar, that stuff?"
The man eloquently nods.
"Never," Satan says. "I prefer to burn you..."
An undoubtedly diabolical laughter follows his words, which freezes the advisor’s blood.
"Enough with the chatter ", the king of hell says, "let’s see the first guest of this morning."
A little man in dark suit, with glasses and smart look comes forward.


"What’s your name?" Satan asks, keeping his eyes on the register, ready to find matches.
"I’m David Mills", he replies, showing great confidence in his voice.
Then he winks at the adviser, who remains impassive, unseen by the devil.
"Oh…" Satan says reading the notes on him, "You’re a lawyer. My favourite..."
"I am pleased, sir," Mills says seraphic.
"Sir?!" Satan asks. "What does that mean?"
"It’s English..." the little man explains. "Like mister, lord… it’s a gentle way to call someone..."
"Well," the demon rebukes him with cold eyes. "Here you don’t need to be gentle. No puns, here, lawyer…"
Mills tries to intercept the look of the advisor, who carefully avoids him, and that greatly disturbs him.
"Then," Satan says reading the register. "We have good stuff about you: judicial bribery and perjury. Good, very good..."
"Well," Mills interrupts, "I think there is a mistake. I should not be here. Actually I was acquitted..."
"Acquitted?" The devil is astonished and amused at the same time. "What do you mean?"
"Acquitted... I have not been convicted."
"I don’t care" Satan says, smiling feral. "As I said, in my book it’s written that you are guilty of bribery and perjury. Do you confirm?"
Mills tries once again to meet the eyes of the advisor, without luck.
"But my crimes were prescribed..." the little man says, no longer as quiet as when he entered.
"Prescribed?" Satan enquires, widening his eyes with great curiosity. "I missed that. What do you mean by prescribed? Be clear, because we are not in a court..."
"Prescribed..." Mills repeats very nervous. "It means that the lawsuits must be started within a legally determined period."
"I told you to speak clearly, advocate,” the devil warns him sternly. "Explain in simple terms..."
"It means that after a certain time, regardless whether a defendant is guilty or not, he can no longer be prosecuted."
Satan bursts out laughing and the advisor does the same, ever not looking in Mills’ eyes, inevitably more agitated.
"David..." the lord of hell says, barely stifling to laugh, "Take a look around. Do you see judges, a jury and things like that, here?"
"No..."
"In fact, and you won’t see. If someone comes here, it's because he’s guilty. Here just the facts count, not words. And the fact is that even before me you try to be clever, makes you deserve a special treatment..."
Then Satan claps his hands and two huge devils raise Mills and escort him out.
While the cries of the unfortunate man are lost in the corridors of hell, Satan turns to his counsellor and asks: "Who's next?"
"M-Mister B." the advisors answers, with sweat on forehead, suddenly nervous.
"Wow, him!"
Then, noticing the apprehension of the man, he invites him to calm down: "Relax," Satan says, putting his disturbing hand on his shoulder. "You don’t have to worry anymore, as I told you. That man cannot promise anything, here. You're no longer his slave. Now you're mine…"


Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Thursday, February 25, 2010

No salary cap to manager: thank you Pdl

Stories and News No. 117

The Story:

we just want to say thank you! Thanks from the Italian top managers.
When in January we learned that those moralists of Italy of Values party wanted to put a cap on our salary we all risk an infarct…
Not to mention about the serious repercussions for our family.
The whole family, if you know what I mean...
But what do these people believe?
Do they think that it’s easy to be a manager in a bank or in any listed company, today, in Italy?
There are costs, many costs.
Besides, I'm one of those who also saw something good in these last interceptions.
Now people will finally realize how much money it takes to do our job.
What do these champions of feel-good populism imagine? Do they think that we became managers of a bank living as saints?! Do they really believe that shareholders make us managers just to bring them to a crack?!
We are slaves, we are not the masters, this is the truth and you of the PDL have understood it...
A cap…
They wanted to put a cap…
And what about the free market?
Sure, we know that this is just a way to tell, because there is no longer the market...
A little bazaar, nothing more, a couple of shops and an abusive stall, okay.
But freedom is sacred!
It’s my business if I want to buy the fourth manor, the sixth car and the eighth plasma TV, isn’t it?
I gave my ass for this and no one knows it better.
Better than my ass, obviously.
A cap...
But do those troublesome justicialist people know what might happen to us, every day?
If something bad comes out, we're the first to finish on the news.
And then all people will point the finger, calling us thieves, swindlers, corrupted.
A lot of people who don’t know us, who know nothing of our lives and what we must endure every day.
And it's better that way...



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Scaglia, Di Girolamo and two billion stolen: what about Italian people?

Stories and News No. 116

The Story:

Once upon a time there was the people.
The people lived in a country like many.
The country like many was not exactly like many.
You may see it just reading the curriculum of the premier to realize it, but today I don’t want to talk about him.
What the hell, I give him enough space.
And if am I also doing a favour to him?
Well, I don’t want to think about!
Otherwise I get a panic attack…
In the country that was not exactly like many, since it became a republic - a form of government in which the head of state is not a monarch and the people or a part of it have an impact on its government – everything happened.
Unpunished massacres, unsolved crimes, legalized fraud against the State - which means the people - pervasive corruption at all levels of institutions - always to the detriment of the people - tangents at each office that is important – with the people’s money - conflicts of interest everywhere concealed or not with never kept promises.
Promises made to whom? To the people!
And the people?
Incredibly, as a character worthy of a fantastic story, the people did nothing, I repeat, never really did something to change that.
In more than sixty years they gave wealth, power, luxury and privileges to persons who made just deceptions and created illusions, exploiting them as a cash cow.
I know.
I suppose you will hardly believe me, but that’s the truth.
Moreover, compared to the past, something changed that made it even more absurd.
In the past the powerful men deceived the people thanks to their ignorance.
They didn’t know a lot of things, otherwise...
Well, even knowing them, there was no otherwise.
In other words: Yeah, I know they have stolen, I know they steal today and will continue tomorrow. I'm not stupid, okay?
But everything remained as it was before.
How was this possible?
How was it possible to take advantage of millions of people for so long, even in sunlight, without any opposition by them?
How could a bunch of smart as mediocre people suck the blood of a whole people for over half a century?
There was only one way: to convince them that they were smart and mediocre too.
It was enough to make every citizen, or the most, to believe of being a shrewd and dishonest man too, a man who took advantage of someone else.
The people were not a collection of saints, but they could not be so smart, otherwise… and there was no otherwise.
The next question is: how to succeed in this enormous convincing job?
That’s simple.
Just imagine a farce that was every time the same, a charade to regularly present on the TV news and newspaper, in films and soap operas, in books and magazines, in which to show that the people were all the same: all smart, all dishonest, all crooks, all infidels, all guilty, but not all with the same power.
I am talking about a farce to put on especially before the elections, because everything remained as before.
Besides, how can a thief complain about a theft?



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Berlusconi lyricist and the poets revolt

Stories and News No. 115

The Story:

In the afterlife:

"Giosuè, sit down, I must tell you something ..." Peter says, entering the hobby room reserved for the great Italian poets.
The saint is holding a newspaper, noted by Carducci, who obeys and sits on a chair.
"Even you," Peter says, inviting other writers to approach, "come here…"
Pascoli and D'Annunzio leave the ping pong, the former upset because for the first time was in the lead and the latter happy for the same reason.
Leopardi doesn’t want to stop with the video poker and Montale has to move him by force.
The latter too, along with Quasimodo, Saba and Cardarelli, reluctantly leaves the cards game.
Never disturb them when they are in the middle of the match.
Ungaretti knows well and has realized that he doesn’t have to inform them about his last record on pinball.
He may disturb everyone, except those four.
When they play you better leave them quite.
The only one who has the privilege to interrupt them is Foscolo.
Since he is used to cook - pies, to be precise – everybody is happy to taste his creations.
They say that as a chef has become even better then as a poet, and you know what I mean.
Foscolo is the latest to join the group, all sitting around Peter, standing with the open newspaper.
"It has to be something important..." he says sitting next to Carducci.
"I was writing..."
"Ugo..." Montale comments. "You're dead... Enough with the poems! Nobody reads them anymore, apart from us..."
"Life is short and art is long…" He replies with inspiration, provoking the jeers of his colleagues.
"Listen," Peter exclaims, regaining their attention. "I have to give you some news and I don’t think you'll be pleased. They regard Italy. The school, in particular..."
"What happened, this time?" Ungaretti asks.
"They decided that poems are immoral for students?"
"No", the saint responds. "Something different…"
"Explain…" Quasimodo says, still annoyed for having left the good cards in his hand.
"Well…" Peter starts, slightly embarrassed.
"On the next school year, the Berlusconi government will distribute 70,000 copies of a CD. It contains some of your most famous poems…"
"Are you serious?" Carducci exclaims. "It’s a great idea! Why did you say that we would not have been pleased by the news?"
"Good," Saba says too, "an invitation to reading is always a good thing. Especially in a country of illiterates like ours..."
"You’re right" Peter admits and tries to better explain. "The fact is that the poems are not meant to be read, but listen..."
"Okay," Cardarelli says. "If the poems are declaimed by a good actor, the rhymes obtain power. Who are the interpreters? Vittorio Gassman? Marcello Mastroianni?"
"They're dead..." Peter reminds him. "However, the poems on the CD are not recited…"
The group remains perplexed.
"Your poems are sung..." the saint reveals them.
"Sung?" Ungaretti asks very confused, as well as others. "And who are the singers? Mina? Mina is alive, no?"
"Yes, she is, but not Mina…" Peter answers.
So, reading the newspaper, he informs the poets: "I tell you right now the interpreters. Giosuè, your famous words are sung by Danilo Brugia and Idaelena..."
"Who the hell are they?" Carducci asks agitated.
"The first is a soap opera actor…" Peter answers, while Giosuè begins to cry.
The best words to describe what happens after are inevitably two: depression and anger.
When all poets know that their extraordinary poems will be sung by TV serial actors and reality shows contenders, they start to scream and become violent.
But above all, when all come to know that the poems will have the music by Loriana Lana, the famous lyricist of Berlusconi, Peter is forced to flee from the room and shut them inside.
Nobody knows if he will be able to stop them.
Someone, here, should start to worry…



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Monday, February 22, 2010

NATO kills other civilians by mistake: that's enough!

Stories and News No. 114

The Story:

Civilians…
So everybody called us.
Civilians, or women, children an old people, normal persons, but all without uniform.
We were the flooded citizens, the helpless inhabitants, and the unfortunate people.
We were just an unlucky casualty.
We were the civilian dead.
And so, we gained a paragraph in the newspapers, a word from TV news or at most a discussed talk show on a partisan episode of an alternative broadcast.
Bleeding from the head, swollen with tears eyes, severed arms, amputated legs…
You saw everything on the screen, yet there still were people in the world who thought that war was a chance… a civil chance.
Yes, civil, just like us, the civilians…
Anyway, the point was all here: If you have the stomach for considering the use of weapons to bring peace, you have also an obligation to put your fingers into our inert wounds and at that same moment, looking straight at us, saying out loud: "This was the right thing to do."
Then came the day when we were tired of paying for you.
In Iraq, in Afghanistan, anywhere in the world, we were those who offered the highest sacrifice to the altar of nothing, the nothing of semantic lies and syntactic deceptions: peacekeeping missions, international cooperation, and humanitarian intervention…
We said it was enough.
Enough with the involved songs, enough with the inspired prayers, well enough with useless posts like this…
We, the civilians, were tired of being such.
We didn’t want to wear these clothes anymore; we wanted to stop playing that shit role forever, like the black actor in horror films, who always dies first.
Terrorists?
No, this is a terrible mistake that we had already done. That happened many, too many times, and you had quickly learned how to use it against ourselves.
Now we claim to be no longer used in any way.
For this reason we have chosen the only path for survival.
A thousand dollars, a ship or a truck, and another life turned on by the hope of breaking the boundaries that divided your fortune from our misfortune.
At first it was still all a matter of words, the usual mocking dance of the points of view.
Some of you had the audacity to call ours an invasion…
From the moment we arrived on your honest land, in your safe cities, in the country of the undisputed morality, we were no longer civilians: thieves, murderers, rapists, we became the perpetrators of all your bad thougths.
Then we said enough with this too, enough with this ignoble taking the piss.
Here's the good news: today we are not civilians.
It’s a great day, this, because now we are people like you.
We are people of the democratic world.
We want what you want.
And we are ready to do anything to get it, just like you...



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Friday, February 19, 2010

Italian Berlusconi Anti corruption bill

Stories and News No. 113

The Story:

Another exclusive scoop for the Blog: the ten points of recent Italian Anti-corruption Bill by the Berlusconi government:

1. Did you get corrupted? Stop doing it, right?! Otherwise you’ll go to bed without TV!

2. Did you bribe someone? If you talked on the phone, don’t worry, because we are now making another bill on it…

3. Are you corruptible but you never had a chance? Candidate with us and you will see that opportunities will not fail. Being honest, on the other side is the same. But we are the government, think about it…

4. Do you whish to bribe but you still didn’t have the courage? Go ahead! As the motto says, you only live once but in Italy you are forever in parliament…

5. Are you incorruptible? Very good, congratulations, you have all our respect! You may go, now. We’ll call you, but before you leave, give your name and address. Why? No, it's just a formality…

6. You've never bribed anyone and you don’t even know how to do? If you're a beautiful chick don’t worry, we’ll find a place for you.

7. Are you are an incurable corrupting guy? Do you have corruption in your blood and you have used the first pocket money to bribe your brother and let him do your homework? But are you sure you’re not already one of us?

8. Are you his brother and you would like to get back the favour? No problem, for us the family is the first thing…

9. What's wrong? The points don’t convince you? Read through the beginning: this is the anti-corruption bill, not anti corrupting people…

10. Reassurance: if they catch you, just relax and stay calm. You give the resignation, so your conscience is okay. Then we reject them…



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Thursday, February 18, 2010

Berlusconi takes care of candidates. What about the voters?

Stories and News No. 112

The Story:

We are at Palazzo Grazioli, one of Berlusconi’s houses.
It’s time for dinner and Silvio stands to make a speech.
In the room there are important guests, all significant people, as ever.
The Premier jokes, as usual, and everyone laughs.
They do it even when he’s not funny.
That’s normal.
A famous motto says: if your president made a nice joke, laugh, but if he starts to say bullshits, you have to worry.
However, if he is Berlusconi, he can say what he wants, so nothing happens and then you must continue to laugh.
Suddenly the premier becomes serious and addressing the issues of the forthcoming regional elections, makes this statement: “With all that is happening, we should pay more attention to people we candidate...”
In that moment, time flows at normal speed.
This pause doesn’t exist for any of the distinguished guests.
However - as during the last official dinner for Obama - there is a pair of crashing visitors:
a man and a woman, strong supporters of the president, two indomitable voters of Silvio.
Nothing made them give up, because - as he always says on TV - there's never been anything real about him.
The fact is that they had never personally seen him.
And when you meet someone in the real world, with his true face, even if it is retouched, with his real voice, without any opportunity to cut and omit, it is another matter.
The two fans, unlike the celebrities, have carefully listened to every word.
They know this instant won’t happen another time.
So, that moment stops and the seconds magically stretch.
The voters of Berlusconi may do this.
Don’t worry: the Democratic Party will copy that too.
The unknown couple remains suspended on the sentence with all that is happening, we should pay more attention to people we candidate and they both anticipate the conclusion basing on the dream the prime minister drew within them.
Thus, one finale seems eligible to them: for respect to the voters.
It’s obvious, it’s logic, it’s indisputable, they think.
So the time starts to run normally and the president ends in this way: even for not leaving an uncovered side to the opponents.
With all that is happening, we should pay more attention to people we candidate, even for not leaving an uncovered side to the opponents.
The unexpected visitors repeat upset in their heads the previous sentence, they confronted with each other but there is no doubt.
Berlusconi has said so.
So, they look around and remember to be just crashing guests.
The crashing guests cannot pretend anything.
They may eat and drink, but silently.
Otherwise, they could stay at home.
In front of the TV.



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Sanremo 2010 and the other Italy

Stories and News No. 111

The Story:

We are us.
We are the ones that last night didn’t watch the Sanremo Festival.
We are the ones that have lost Antonella Clerici’s elegance, the smart remarks by Antonio Cassano and the stunning lines of the Morgan’s song read by the presenter.
We are those who won’t even listen to the next fascinating performances of the big and the new generation artists of Italian pop music.
We won’t watch, glued on the screen, the greatest television event of the year, culminating in the glittering final.
We do not.
The fact is that we could not even if we wanted.
Because on the roofs there are the antennae but there is no TV...


Because a landslide went in the house and we could not sit on the couch and turn on the television…


Because we are the dead by work and, you know, in the afterlife there are people like Jimi Hendrix, Bob Marley, and even Beethoven and Bach…


Because we had the privilege to get to Italy and earn enough to survive, but we still don’t get a TV...


And because we were born in Italy, but it doesn’t necessarily correspond to an advantage...


We are us.
We are the ones that this year will not watch the Sanremo Festival.
We are those who have not seen last year too.
We are the ones that probably will loose it next year.
We're the ones who have missed these pearls of Italian TV.
At least in this, we are lucky...


Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Italy, from 1992’s Tangentopoli to now

Stories and News No. 110

The Story:

My name is Italy.
I know it's a challenging name, full of meanings.
The fact is that my parents have always been set by geography.
However, I cannot complain, because these days are definitely gone worse for my sister Tanzania and my brother Senegal…
I was born in 1992 and now I will be eighteen years old.
I will finally vote!
The year of my birth was an important year, with many memorable events, as the final dissolution of the USSR, the signing of the Treaty of Maastricht, the killings of Falcone and Borsellino, but especially the beginning of Tangentopoli.
I haven’t decided how I will vote.
I'm still thinking, but I’m very concerned about what is happening these days in the world of Italian politics.
Gianfranco Fini, President of the Chamber of Deputies, said that now things are different since the year of my birth, because before politicians stole money for their party while today who steals is just a thief.
Maybe he's right.
After all these years in Italian politics there was a considerable change...


Who, in those dark years, have been wronged was vindicated...



Who appeared on television thanks to a violation of democratic norms, has seen the triumph of law...


But above all, my country, that in 1992 saw its name tainted all over the world by the scandals of his political corruption, now has a very different reputation...


My name is Italy.
I know it's a difficult name, but it's mine.
I cannot change it.
I can only do my best to make it a good person's name.
I was born in 1992, a year full of important events.
This year I become eighteen years old and I will vote for the first time.
I don’t know if today politicians are different from those of Tangentopoli time.
However one thing is certain to me.
If today I want my country better than yesterday, I have to do something that my parents never had the courage to do...


Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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Monday, February 15, 2010

Italian civil protection, a disaster is a ‘big event’

Stories and News No. 109

The Story:

Once upon a time there was a group of people.
The group of people was paid to take care of emergencies.
Emergencies due to disasters, natural or otherwise.

Disasters as the earthquakes...


Derailments...


Landslides...


Then the day came when someone (used to do several things at once) thought that the group of people could also deal with ‘big events’.
Big events mean big media and people attention.
Big media and people attention means big advertising revenues.
As for the canonization of Padre Pio...


For the Olympics in Turin...


And for the G8 in La Maddalena (then moved to L'Aquila)...


Once upon a time there was a group of people.
The group of people was paid to deal with disasters and big events.
Then came the day when they could no longer see the difference between them...



Stories and news: “invented” Stories, fruit of my imagination, inspired by “true” media News.

The people and the tragic story of Italy, Saturday March 20 2010, World storytelling day in Rome.

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