Friday, January 27, 2017

International Holocaust Remembrance Day for kids

Stories and News No. 950

Why Remembrance Day, you say?
I'll tell you, my dear, you'll see that it will be easy, much simpler than it seems.
First of all, you know what memory is?
Yes, I know you do, even better than me, I guess, but I’d like to explain it the same.
It cannot hurt me, I think.
So, the memory is like a box, a large and elastic

one, which can grow anytime.
How much?
Well, it depends on you, indeed, on us.
It depends also on how many things we put in.
Which things?
Those we all consider important, which made us feel strong emotions or think strong thoughts, for example.
What are the strong thoughts? They are those that once come into your head, they are so bulky and loud. Then you find so hard to get rid of, but because you care and you don’t want to forget entirely them...
...we put them in the box, very good, kids
Now let’s go back to the point.
What is the day we are talking about?
You know, time passes, so months and years, you look at the calendar, you see the date and say: "This day sounds not new to me..."
So you open the memory box, and you remember everything as if it were today.
In a few words, it’s the day when, thanks to memory, we pay tribute to strong emotions and thoughts of the past.
What do you say, kids? What happens to the strong emotions and thoughts of today?
Silly question, sorry... we put them in the box, and then, in the future, there will be a remembrance day for them too, gosh.
Why those faces, now? What doesn’t convince you?
In fact…
Well, your reasoning is right.
If we paid proper attention to the strong emotions and thoughts which the lives of billions of people depend on today, maybe, tomorrow, there will be no need of other Remembrance days

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Thursday, January 26, 2017

Trump torture works

Stories and News No. 949

The US president has made his first TV interview. He said that torture absolutely works and his country should fight fire with fire...

Once upon a time there was a game.
One of those role-playing competitions, so fashionable nowadays.

It always had so many names and, as much as every game, there are those who are having fun, those who are just watching and those who aren’t enjoy at all.
It’s a role playing, I just told this, but I have not added that you need cards.
The main one has also various names, but now it's called Trump, a kind of joker.
Then there are the victims cards, the accomplices cards, the passive cards and the resistant ones.
The number of players are unlimited and that is not a good thing, because the product is popular, but not so educational, let's face it.
It might be better doing something else, but this is what it is, as they said.
Returning to the content of the package, in addition to the cards there is the usual board game. You may just use it as a background, you know? You can see the world, all continents, with cities and rivers, seas and mountains, to remember where you are.
And what you are playing with…
Indeed, there is also a rotating arrow, that each turn can point to a different player.
The first step is simple: you should mix the cards and distribute them.
As I said, that the most important one is the Trump card. If you got it, your role will be to rule the game and it’s easy, believe me, even a child could. A particular one, of course, but let's not quibble, gosh.
First of all you have the task to turn the arrow.
If it pointed an accomplice card, you can tell the player all the crazy promises you want, inventing the greatest lies in the world.
In return you will earn power points.
No one knows what the other one gains, not to mention the latter.
If the arrow pointed to a resistant card, you can steal to your opponent, the only truly one, the so-called freedom points.
Many people say to ignore what he missed, but the latter knows, believe me.
If, then, that the arrow pointed a passive card, you can deprive the corresponding player either freedom or power points.
Everyone knows what he loses, except the latter.
Finally, when the arrow pointed a victim card, you can do to the owner everything might please you.
You can insult and mock him, humiliate and even getting him out of the game, making him back a moment later, but only to start again making fun of him.
Now I realize that a fundamental question is echoing in your brain.
Who wins this game?
Almost nobody, I'm sorry.
You know, this game is like a kind of torture, where all lose but one and it works.
It’s working even now, it never stops.
That's why these horrible games, inhuman practices of our miserable species, must be absolutely be stopped, blown immediately out with no ifs and buts.
Like water does with fire…

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Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Immigrants stories in Italy: death in Venice

Stories and News No. 948

Pateh Sabally, 22-years old man from Gambia, committed suicide by drowning in the Grand Canal in Venice.
I read that, according Italian law, no one was forced to save him.
Four life rings is the price you pay.
For the show...

Watch this movie, even if you've already seen, I know.
We all have did it, and here we are again.

Maybe we didn’t understand before.
Maybe it would go better with the language subtitles.
That hit where the heart doesn’t hurt, because now no longer beats.
That's right, this is a story that survives death itself.
Because, inside a sort of circle of hell built in a TV network, there is someone who desperately needs to tell it.
And someone else with a perverse habit to listen with locked ears and memory.
Watch the scene, despite being old, but always trendy.
There is the sea, as always.
There's the ship, the travelers and him.
The one who dies at the end and the beginning, during too.
And even earlier, in the filming.
Perhaps he was never alive.
Yes, it must be so.
Otherwise, how can you sleep at night?
More than anything, they are there, the spectators, those watching and commenting, sharing and mocking, manipulating and selling, buying and buying back, chewing and spewing all, to start again the next day.
But sorry, we have to highlight.
Fade, light and the scapegoat of this bloody farce is once again there.
In the middle of the frame, in the water, when the clothes get too heavy.
Never comparable to the never filled gaps, as hope in tomorrow and trust in others.
You know, when lacking overpowers with arrogance the rest, sometimes you let go.
If only there was someone, at that very moment, where the perfection of a gesture as a dip in the others’ life, driven by antiquated stuff like courage or simple affection for other people's breath, it would ruin the usual narration, that's for sure.
But at that point, we could finally get out of such horrible movie room, projecting too actual nightmares to really feel them as ours.
Watch this story, think about it later, if you like.
Remember the characters, all, no one might presume to be something else, think back to the man who kills the future under the eyes of the lucky tourists on the journey called life, and those who care for the drama during the comfortable deferred vision.
Believe me, you can change your part, if you want it.
I am with you, right now.
If you like we can still tear up masks and costumes.
Making this bogus stage in pieces.
And maybe do something else, tomorrow…

Read more stories of immigrants
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Friday, January 20, 2017

Stories about life in Italy Avalanche survivors

Stories and News No. 947

Eight people, including two children, were rescued from the hotel buried by an avalanche last Wednesday.
"Finding these people gives us further hope into other survivors," said an employee of the Civil Protection.

We look at them with affection and understanding.
We are sorry for them but at the same time we

rejoice in their breath, the embrace with the saviors, the return home, to us.
We're somewhere and we look and read about them.
Thinking of those who didn’t make it and we count.
We do with those left behind, the weight of the pain, the vacuum filled by the avalanche, yes.
But on the other side of fate there are them.
The survivors.
Those who know, those who really have seen all, those who were there, no simple words for that.
Those that we should listen first and then.
The lucky ones after all.
Do we want to talk about luck, then?
So, certainly with much less right to speak, the list of those born with a comfortable shirt, already stretched and well starched, it’s much more wide.
For example, those who might be there, that bloody day, in the wrong hour.
And those that could be erased from the living film in a completely different place, if only the script had made alternative sacrifices.
Other avalanches, without controversy, without exploitation.
Because the meaning of the speech we all know what it is.
For every natural disaster, there is always someone who could be accountable.
Later, during, at best before.
Well, the vice versa is also reasonable.
For one of us, or anyone, there is ahead a punishment by the unpredictable world’s forces, ready to strike.
Maybe it's already happened, maybe someone saved us without our knowledge, perhaps it’s happening even now.
Conceivably disappearing under an avalanche to allow us to be the prosperous spectator on the safe side of the mountain.
So, if you have time, try to look from there the rest of the world below, lying where the sky is a memory and the air and the dreams that you held in the chest are all that you have.
Count them now, the survivors.
Watching them here and now, all those who know what it's like to live where others have missed the train.
And count too those that have forgotten to have had so far only an immense, good luck…

Read more stories about life
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Thursday, January 19, 2017

Euthanasia stories: let me die

Stories and News No. 946

Fabiano Antoniani, aka DJ Fabo, after a serious car accident remained blind and quadriplegic.
39 years old, despite many cures, he decided to end his trip here.

"Mr. President of the Republic, my name is Fabo and I would be free to die." With these words – here the video - along with the girlfriend he asked the President of Italy Republic to urge the politicians to make a decision regarding the end of life’s law.
Those who know me best may tell you that I have a relationship with death based on absolute panic, but here we’re not speaking of myself, us, all of you and especially you who read.
Now we are in the inviolable reign of one and only one...

Let me die.
These are three words.
Indeed, they are many things.
It’s the beginning of a story, this one, and might be the conclusion of an existence with a sad outcome, that’s likely, but a dignified one, loved by those who still love and never stop, more than ever accepted by the only people with the right of way.
On the contrary, it’s similar to other eventualities, deprived of dignity, odious and unacceptable.
It’s like writing a novel, yours, good or bad it is, the only one you had to tell and someone else got the privilege to decide the last line.
It’s also as finally getting the birth day of new life, between you and your lover, and someone else besides you penned the name.
It’s like, after infinite imprisonment in an embarrassed and fearful of any coherent movement body, you could find courage to start dancing and someone else pretended not only to choose the music but even soaring steps.
It’s also as you became unexpectedly bold to declare your feelings and someone else got your voice and in your place said “I love you”.
It’s like, after a furious argument with the eternal friend, you had the lucky chance to shake that hand again, and someone else told you what to say.
It’s also as if the last happy period before an existence mowed from a too severe fate could be stolen, rewritten and decorated by someone else who is not you.
It’s like, after your past and present had been taken from a suffering memory, someone who is not destiny dared to claim the rest.
Read as well as the most priceless, ever written chapters.
In short, your future.
Let me die.
These are three words and so many other things, as you know.
Similar to others not as different as you think.
How let me live
My end.

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Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Earthquake for kids story

Story published on the collection: Italian short stories, a dual language book: True short stories collection to understand contemporary Italy (2017)

Friday, January 13, 2017

Stories about life in Italy: Snow in Rome 2017

Stories and News No. 944

Ladies and gentlemen,
Here comes the snow, icy gift from the sky.
Merely the latter, for those who see everything and who are content to fill the eyes with natural divinities.

No, it’s not snowing right now. Not yet, anyway. No news to bait clicks and leave behind irritation and disappointment.
It’s just a story of expectation and fear.
Yes, it's a classic among the most anxious preludes.
Snow is this too.
A dream to hold in your hands, to create other snowy dreams.
At the same time, at worst, it’s death sleeping for the homeless.
If you think about it, it’s a banal paradox among the most common ones.
What is paradise for some, probably few, it’s the inverse for all the others. The two halves of a wrong world, but only if you look it from the true side.
And if you try to put things right, here you find yourself marching in the wrong direction.
No, it's not easy.
Snow is not a plausible event where it rarely is.
As well as the arrival of rain in the lands burned by the resignation of dying souls and larceny by villains disguised as free nations.
However, this is all well known. Throwing eyes among the smallest you'll find who didn’t give up and expect the normal miracle.
So, if snow should come, let the tears of the world to become soft and heavy as often happens, but let them be the same for everyone.
To cover and freeze all, without discrimination.
My candid queen, wrap the eyes of those who see only what they want to see.
And it's always something to hate.
Paralyze the hands that are about to hit a second before the unforgivable gesture.
And do the same with the incomprehensible inhumanity that pushed that far.
Cover me, too, while you're at.
And help me to chill sad memories, so that I can get rid of them as they did not see.
Freeze the citizen and the one who maybe never will, now, in the same framework.
And with your perfect liner reconcile their sleep on this night.
Maybe it might bring a good advice for both.
Upholster defenseless souls at the mercy of these cruel times, hide them where no one can find and, with a bit of revenge, make shivering once and for all who feed belly and guts selling fears.
Make us all equal, all white, but really, since except ghosts and the sheets adorning them, no one has ever been so.
And while we are so confused together in a giant cream ball, show the colorful world that we ignore below, inside.
Please, dear dream, last as long as necessary.
Beloved story, be alive until the worthy end.
And you, my sweet snow, be just yourself.
Because when you will dissolve and disappear, as each time a story comes to an end, some will go with you.
But others, maybe a few, every time they’ll remember this crazy day they will experience warmth and nostalgia for what has been.
And what might still be...

Read more stories about life
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Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Obama Trump: what we still can

Stories and News No. 943

On the tops of the kingdom with complicated power and unspeakable weapons, boundless instruments and blinding lights, but mostly shadows, a sovereign succeeds another.
Obama leaves what Trump takes.
Yes we can, the former said at the very beginning, or we might say ‘It could work’ as Young Frankenstein screams in the movie parody by the late Gene Wilder. And we did it, his farewell recites.
What the latter will do is yet to be seen.
Nevertheless, when the kings change, the most surprising reactions can be observed between the lives of the most unexpected creatures...

"It's useless, Dad," says the little ant, redundant clarification, but useful to the task.

"What are you talking about?" asks the big ant, sort of misleading oxymoron, if you have fussiness on size matters.
"I’m talking about these leaves, dad, which we insist in filling the provisions room with. And please, don’t start with that Cicada’s story, I'm sick of it..."
"Son, time passes, bees are pollinating, dung beetles stinking, dragonflies dragonflying, but I still don’t understand you ..."
"Dragonflying? Me too I don’t get... anyway, you don’t understand me because you don’t follow the news: you don’t browse…"
"Well, here we go again, another crazy idea of yours. Last week, after watching that superhero movie, you started a desperate search of some radioactive source to... as you said? Oh, yes, to change. Now you want to browse? And what? Will you change into a speedboat?"
"Daddy, if a guy becomes Ant Man, I could turn me into a Human Ant, can’t you see the benefits? Think of how many leaves I will bring in the form of a presumptuous bipedal creature. However, I didn’t mean that. I was talking about Web.."
"Son, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk about him?"
"But I'm not talking about the spide…"
"Son, we do not pronounce his name!"
"All right, but I didn’t mean You-know-who-sews-traps..."
"And eats-you-well-with-it, say it all."
"I’ve got it, but I'm not referring to him when I talk about web, but the internet."
"Human deviltry? I feel worse. "
"No, Dad, you may learn a lot of things, there. We must be informed of what is happening above our heads, to rectify them before it’s too late. "
"What would have happened? Please, tell me"
"What would have happened? Dad... the most powerful human colony in the world has elected a new king."
"So? Daddy, the new one is a dangerous creature. "
"Who cares about us? We're not human. "
"Really? Do you think that if the unconscious biped creatures will bring us to the early ice age we won’t die us well? "
"For that matter, we’ll die even if we’ll end the supplies, so save your breath and let's hurry to return, the day is still long.
"But Dad, you don’t see the point..."
"No, son, you don’t."
"Listen, as our queens, human kings change, they have always done and it will happen again. There will be the good and the bad one, the corrupt and then the weak leader, the warmongering and the mafia ruler, so the sadistic and yes, that too dangerous one. "
"What do you mean by that? The rest of us are just ants and we have to watch helplessly the biped megalomaniac creatures? "
"None of this. We're not watching helplessly at all. To be precise, we are bringing food to survive. "
"So this is our only aim? Survive?"
"Son, to many of us, this is the only possible life. But each moment that awaits us we can do something."
"We can do everything, each day, better than the last one, so that all the kings will pass and earth will return into the hands of those who struggle and resist."

Read more stories with morals
Buy my latest book Elisa and the wonderful world of objects
Listen my song Wolves
Watch my last storytelling show with English subtitles Walking with the shadow
Storytelling videos with subtitles