My generation has lost - and its personal reflections on Craxi what's happening in Italy have even remotely thought of doing in Germany: the sanctification of a head of state with a checkered past. Helmut Kohl, who also swelled the pockets of the CDU and not his own, with infinitely less relief on the future of his country, has been relegated to oblivion by paying, he, with a certain hardness of the mistakes and apologized in tears in front of all voters. He could have done so because he chose to face the square, in Berlin, and not to Hammamet. It is not clear then how he could "pay harshly," and equally, on the contrary, one who is not subject to judicial work, running in front of the prison. However, we would have waived
about what happened and do not step on a grave, if only he had not searched, as continues to happen, to revisit the political action with the help of classical tarallucci and wine. Worse, the President of the Republic and Parliament recalled the figure of Craxi reversing the perspective. Insult to injury, for those twenty years after the end of the socialist government (under abhorrent to those who had little of the social, having score the cake into an elite group of criminals) pays the consequences of tax structure in that season and committed some successors. One of these, the current premier, who use a handful of some measures 'pro domo her', like the famous Mammi Law.
We still failed to look back, if you tried pouring out of a street with his name engraved. How to explain, in fact, between Piazza Gramsci and Corso Matteotti, for what merits should adopt a course with that title? I will be, the future father, telling of how corruption became a must-established option in the Italian 80's, while the offspring of others by my side will be disclosed to the posthumous pardon to which we are witnessing. I, too, then tell that story with a deep shame for failing as a representative of my generation to prevent this massacre.
In 2010, for over three decades, drove the ball is the most successful synthesis between the national and Bettino Licio Gelli, which is a corrupter-corrupted, and he theorized that the devastation of the judiciary to hide its flaws. Berlusconi is not only 'End user' craxiane laws, it is also an evolution, more thrust. A figure, no doubt, that will have its awards in place names in 2030.
notice a diminishing desire to celebrate birthdays. The syndrome of white hair is taking shape more in-house over our heads and that I think is a symptom related to the rains of recent days. Here in the north the clouds pass usual, umbrellas open and get wet, you can see a few glimpses of sunshine from November to March. The air stinks, in these streets. The future smells of "Freedom for Italy" (this will arrive shortly) and that there had been so far, faces the same coin that debris after sowing realized that they no longer want to continue to divide the metal valuable to show on the podium. In my small way, I still want to my share of the podium, with people standing next to me, though when I pick up the phone (an archaic expression, in the era of cell phones) for the usual greetings, I realize that I should have less of them than they ever did interested parties to receive them. Not because I do not like to hear them, imagine their faces that giggle at the sound of the hundredth day, talk, but because we are so absorbed by the search for stability that we have to wait for a birthday deal. I had my way, dear friends passed the next year will be meeting in front of a table periodically to tell you that I want to continue to hope, in the enthusiasm to celebrate in front of the child as well as in cake little things I keep in my bag of irregular happiness. Why does nothing to regulate the youth in recent years, including a law that does not belong to those who legislate (never was quite and still less can it be now) and the belief that better to make the kingdom around us are the details of each day, a smile, a girl on the subway, a memory that comes at the right time. Whatever you like this, what little is left of your plunged into a laugh, is the grip to be happy when you feel the weight of a year that has passed. Cling to this, if you see the dark after turning off the candles. 
E 'finished May. A fortnight is over in May of 2010, the month with the "M" capitalized, the thirty days of the condor. Thirty-one, to be exact, to chase the words on the keys as if they were girls from the short skirt, to spy while under the shadow reflected on the thighs there is something more than a trivial thought. 
