Attack u ciucciu adduvi vo 'u patruni! Natura non facit saltus

As a non-historian and not a political scientist, but as a registered scribbler, I am very careful (as far as I can) in looking at historical processes and at the evolutions / involutions of politics, trying to grasp their linearity, albeit convoluted and sometimes chaotic, soon cry (p ) tica. The event horizon does not always appear clear, the future is denied in a taboo, the past insinuates itself into a revanchist-denial-like trickle or at best sadly revisionist, the eternal present expands and explodes in a entertainment (infotainment?) simple and (im) pure. Natura non facit saltus recites a Latin sentence and although the sad spectacle of politics has accustomed us to triple jumps and in long and perilous leaps in the dark and / or in the void, thehorror vacui it is an unforgivable luxury, in the conviction and / or presumption of not being able to believe in existence and so identify soon the homus novus on duty. Beyond the parvenu and of the novices, of the epiphanies and of the ubiquities, politics in recent years has accustomed us to gregarious that have assumed a role of biliosi capipopolo or bori caporioni, peons moreover, casualties marked with (mena) finger.

Really, are you so sure that the blessed and / or cursed first republic has finally gone? We really want to explain everything with "The complex of the all-happened-once-for-always, typically Italian, humanistic, reactionary, with the favorite beauty to the true, the feeling at the thought."?

Too far the time for seaside governments, for pentapartis, for parallel convergences and for the relay race Craxi – De Mita, political forums, of pebbles in the shoe of the Cossiga no more K, of the tinkling of handcuffs and the clinking of coins, of the Bunga Bunga, de- “clean ministers, court buffoons”Of the pipe of Lama and of the pipe of Pertini, of the glasses holder by Bertinotti, of the house of Scajola, Of the house of Fini to Montecarlo, of the house of (?), of the office of the 101, of the "pact of the tart" or "of the pajata”, Of chicory (e) sauteed, of mortadella and risotto with red wine … And in between the roaring grinder of a story at least in part to unravel or tangle, stories to be framed or thrown away, chronicles and feuilleton, chronic dys-functions, scandals, scandals, rugs and rugs.

Whoever remembers the most and the most shining of the rosary of the politicians of the past, of the many forgotten or to forget for good reason, dazzled or simply bored, superbly pissed off or decidedly distressed by the absence and by the many shortcomings, for decades, of a true ruling class and a Parliament (for how much can still be evaluated and measured the effectiveness and the extent of the representation) worthy of their name? Icically the caste, in the inexhaustible perpetuation of casting of the parties (or pseudo-ones) in election of election in election, poll on survey, in a feverish state and artifact of undying propaganda. In the game of references and commonalities: the caste, the castes, the always chaste and the too many costs (for doing, not doing, undoing) all charged to us. In the accidental joint between theory and practice, to promise yourself new things and to dish yourself out deja vu, in the unfulfilled commitment to open doors with serious construct to society. … What seriousness? … And which company? A bow or a kiss, then a minuet and a serious kick in the ass and the company to beat it out again, with a nice well served tuna can and all the sardines. Between lies and spells, of informative delay, tweet after tweet, the eternal art of surviving oneself. And if politics was simply transmigrated elsewhere? Avulsa and ousted by similar parties and organizations, vicarious, stopgaps. Yet the politicians always see them, in great dust, on the screens of their desires (dwarfs and giants depending on your budget, more or less lucky in inches) in grueling television appearances and not. Rampant politicians, free-range, baggy, pervaded by their chameleon-like vibrations, by their recurrent variations on the aforementioned, by the obsession with the limelight, by the enchantment of fatuous fires, fireworks, fires of straw: my systems are new and they are full of cuddles / to give sight to the blind with dust in their eyes.

nell 'impasse between politics politicienne and dilettantism and / or bad government manifestly manifest the last decades, the unreality of a real country and / or, equally, the reality of an unreal country. Certainly the right-handed drift, the fascist regurgitations, populism and restless sovereignty and everything that suits you best, but how not to emphasize the continuity and persistence of an oblivious, cialtronic, farce or jail political action! The cathode ray tube has given way to pixel of a confused, post-post-not-you-know-that or more banally self-centered and disinterested imaginary of a virtual reality abulic and submissive, but how to explain the persistence of certain vices and now chronic diseases (corruption, transformism, the consociativismo, the bonds and the mixture with the malaffare and the mafias, the more or less illicit abuses …)? How the appearance of the pentastellato movement could have been, or the bullying of the two Mattei, without the descent into the field of Berlusconi and the birth of Forza Italia in 1994 and without the evaporation of the left? How much of the craxismo and of Craxi was in Berlusconi and is it in current politics? The yuppismo, the self-made-man, Drive-in, le sitcom and recorded applause, hedonism Reagan and have positive thinking really been confined to the eighties? The self-referential nature of politics, the multiplication of parties and small parties by division ad libitum (ad personam, post or a-ideological, on the business model or the startups), the current and expulsion of the internal debate or any comparison comparable to the old congresses, the absence of politics from the appointed places and the permanence of the third chamber of the television parlor of the evergreen Wasp (and all the others talk show photocopy), we want to consider them the poisoned fruit of the tireless work of the company or what? The succession of electoral laws (re-blending from the proportional to the majority, with corrections and adjustments now in one sense now in the other), and the so-called constitutional reforms always rejected to the test of the referendum or who have left miserable consequences on local authorities and in terms of autonomy, how do we want to interpret them and to whom do we want to charge them?

It is at the peripheral level, however, that politics shows its face more than the past, between incrustations and stratifications, ras or caciques incorruptible, consolidated practices and habits, patronage and humoral, if not amoral, familism. What unites and divides, or rather, what is the evolutionary / involutionary line between the …Veraldi, Nisticò, Caligiuri, Meduri, Chiaravalloti, Loiero, Scopelliti, Oliverio, Presidents of Region Calabria? What did they shine in? I am not perhaps the most sinister and blind expression of an immovability and perpetual stagnation of theoutlet politic Bruzio, (almost not at all scratched but if ever thickened by the firmament of five stars)? The regional institution, from the '70s onwards, has been more of an obstacle or a help, a brake or a stimulus to the socio-economic-cultural growth of the Calabria? Is it only a case of the proliferation of Calabrian municipal bodies in pre-collapse or overt failure? Mario Occhiuto it is really the last meteor that fell on one Cosenzaunaware, or just the natural continuation of a path already traced? How much of his predecessors (…Mancini, Catizone, Perugini) is traceable in his modus agendi administrative, how much of the way and the administration of its precursors has made it a forerunner, feeding the addiction, the resignation, the complicity? Francesco Lo Giudice in what is it different from Rosario D'Alessandro or Umile Bisignano? How much of his father Carmelo or his old companion Angelo Rosa Has it remained unchanged in the administration of the current Bisignanese mayor? Mario Occhiuto is Francesco Lo Giudice, how long of generation and parties different, perhaps they are not the face and expression of the same social bloc e milieu substantially unchanged over the years? How to judge "… The culture that power and its administrators consider a very useful outlet for perpetuation of domination, to the government without risk of people and things, because it produces the supinity (and stupidity) of the subjects. "? Politics, or what is claimed to be such, is set and disposed, the individual ego of the average Italian (and one would wonder about the meaning of the middle term in this astral conjuncture!) To make the cocks own and i company to bounce off the irrelevant spectacle of the eternal quadrille that lives on itself in a dance of dervish (or) / (a) ccidental.

indifference sans facon, prudery post-ideological or mere cazzeggiano end in itself?

Certainly the parties are no longer those of the past but today, like ten, twenty, thirty … years ago, it is worth continuing to ask: … but what is power? Where does it flourish, s'incista, s'nida? In which holes, meanders, minds? To whom does he respond, who has and what does he respond to? What can he boast or get mad at? How much is it, and how much does it respond to the institutions (in all its manifestations) and how much more or more is it? Limited sovereignty is only a suggestion or a legacy of the past or is even more today the manifestation of a complete genuflection to the laws of the global market (EU, WTO, IMF, agencies of rating… banks, hi-tech corporation and not) and local trade (tenders, services, subsidies …)? It still makes sense to talk about steam masters, party politics, nomenclature … simply misinformation instead of hate fake-news? What is the state of health of capitalism in our latitudes? What he wrote is still true Mark Fisher ten years ago: "Capitalism is what remains when every ideal has collapsed to the state of symbolic or ritual elaboration: the result is a consumer-spectator who trudges between ruins and ruins."

Rosario Lombardo