supersoul

Well, all the more so since here the essence of the reasoning seems to indicate that, given that Italians on average are similar to Silvietto, they do not deserve someone to govern them without thinking of personal gain or without dictatorial tendencies. Personally, I believe I deserve much more; if you think this is fine, what can I say... best wishes and many beautiful children who will swell the average. Now we can also talk about the music of Keith Jarrett for a few chosen ones who will go crying towards the sea, incredulous of so much humanity.

And let's also say that this is truly the site of those who see the speck in their brother's eye but not the plank in their own. The first to speak of rhetoric was post 14.

Dear Captain, it is you (I return the courtesy you have suddenly shown me) who is being rhetorical and pleonastic in your reasoning. I didn’t want to find myself discussing with you again, but here we are... It is rather you who makes me smile if you think that I, at a certain age, am convinced that the filth comes from only one side. This image of the well-dressed public at San Carlo "slowly walking towards the sea. And in everyone's eyes a tear descended. But I saw that tear sliding down a smile, and the sea seemed incredulous in the face of so much humanity." I can just imagine the usual greedy ones, Mastella and Mrs. Lonato and their merry company, walking towards the sea with humanity after having coffee under the (illegal) gazebo of the grand bar Gambrinus in piazza Trieste e Trento, right in front of San Carlo. Evil, as you say, is not always so easily definable, but perhaps it is more justified in "our neighbor who is not rich, the worker playing the strikebreaker, the housewife who settles for Centovetrine," who become embittered while struggling to survive at the end of the month, rather than in people who have absolutely no problem spending 180 euros for a concert, while still acknowledging that with their money (as you rightly say) they can do whatever they want... That's all.

Did you happen to go to school with Massimo Catalano? You know, he was part of Arbore's crew back in the days of "Quelli della Notte," the one who shared enlightening maxims like "It's better to work a little and take lots of vacations, rather than work a lot and take few vacations," or "It's better to be healthy and rich than to be poor and sick."

I imagine those tie-wearing people, tears in their eyes, heading towards the sea, incredulous in front of so much humanity. It's the same people who tell the unemployed of Naples and the surrounding area to go to hell as they congest traffic to march in the usual, constant, never-ending daily procession outside the San Carlo all the way to the prefecture. 180 euros for a ticket to the most famous theater, and the grocery stores in Naples and the surrounding area are empty. Something doesn't add up, but it's an old and boring story. ;-)

You say production to forget? Well, maybe for the year 2009, back then it was dirty enough to work. I remember that Peter Way took care of it when he left UFOs.

Alright, but the success and the best stories of Matheson are not those of science fiction; I would say they are related to the fantastic, which we know historically originated as a genre of entertainment (just think of Weird Tales and Lovecraft). This book, "I Am Legend," "A Stir of Echoes," "Duel" are not works of science fiction but rather present the situation of the common man faced with something that escapes his daily life, how he reacts to an unknown event (the ghost of a woman, the shrinking of a body, a "beastly" truck) that leads him to reconsider his existence based on certainties that are undermined. It's no coincidence that a mainstream author like Stephen King says he has been greatly influenced by Richard Matheson.

Wow, one of the rare times I agree with the vigilante... could it be serious?

Matheson is a great writer; "Three Millimeters a Day" may be his deepest story, even more than the beautiful "I Am Legend" and "I Am Helen Driscoll." But take a look at the beautiful film by Jack Arnold, even if it has that ugly title in Italian. In the end, the protagonist manages to win the fight against the giant spider (for him) that was preventing his escape from the high cellar grates, sees the starry sky, and begins a monologue that gives you goosebumps: "I looked up as if to cling to the sky: the Universe, worlds that never end, the silver tapestry of God against the night sky. And in that moment, I found the solution to the enigma of infinity. I had always thought within the confines of the human mind, I had reasoned about nature. Existence begins and ends in human thought, not in nature. To dissolve, to become nothing, my fears vanished, and acceptance took their place. The vast majesty of creation must have a meaning, a meaning that I had to give to it. Yes. Smaller than the smallest, I too had a meaning. Upon reaching God, there is no nothingness: I still exist."

But you see, pistolpete, this site is nice but there are too many people focused on picking the speck in their brother's eye, oblivious to the beam in their own eye. So, it’s considered snobbish to downplay the solemn plagiarisms of characters and the not-so-excellent artistic quality of magazines like Dylan Dog and Nathan Never, while instead exalting the genius (which is truly pure genius) of Magnus/Bunker. And so, comments like the one you posted on my review of John Fahe, praising the work of this cult artist for the few, come off as great sfaccimmeria (which would be "figata" in Italian, "cool" in English), while you’ve flushed down the existential ramblings of James Taylor or Paul Simon. Perhaps some admirers of the two might find your comment rather snobbish. Don't you think so, brother de-baseriano?