Il_Paolo

@Ecioso, I was in front, I didn't gauge the attendance. I thought there would be fewer, but it's not easy to evaluate. About the concert, I have nothing to say: technically and stylistically they are fine, my speech revolved a bit around this fact. I didn't understand the purpose of the second bassist. @Michoos: you hit the nail on the head, unfortunately. You can't imagine the wave of sadness that washed over me while watching the under 21 with the truck driver: being at the autogrill with good company would have been the best, indeed; we would have shared a camogli and a coke and we would have had fun. But I wouldn't have gone to the concert, and, above all, I wouldn't be writing these reviews with and for you. @Kosmo: I don’t remember the name, I arrived after the performance started and they didn’t even say goodbye. Nothing special, anyway. I don't know if anyone present remembers who they were. SV, Il_Paolo

Thank you Turkish, could you clarify something for me: I didn't quite understand if the factory was in use or abandoned. Those with me said it was abandoned, and that was the mistake. I'm sorry for confusing the readers: but I'm glad the trucks are still there today. From what I saw on Saturday, that suburb wasn't built by Mussolini; it must date back to some variant of the plan from not too many years ago (but if you're from BZ you probably know more). Regarding the allusions to the not-so-green age of the musicians and their sex lives (but I also wrote that sex is not confusion), always Turkish and Kosmogabri, I didn't mean to be disrespectful or to make light of menopause and andropause: I was simply trying to describe facts (namely that they are not young) and reflect on the passage of time, avant-gardes included. I'm sorry if I offended your sensibilities, but I know I'm not suited for these events: I promise that, from the next review, I'll return to tradition. SV, Il_Paolo

Ecioso, we weren't that many, come on (two or three days before the concert, the unsold ticket percentages were considerable, they tell me). In fact, the obscene line for drinks, even ignoring the alcohol, made me head to the roadside diner. And the acoustics, well.

I'll comment on myself first: there’s a typo... I "tremble" for Steve Shelley’s heart, not "time" (must be the Word autocorrect). Also, further up, the correct phrase is "the merit [is]...". Yours correcting.

Dear Ghemison, I must say that I find reviewing television shows difficult for other reasons: while albums, movies, and books are cohesive works intended to endure over time – at least in their creators’ intentions – television shows, more frequently in recent years, are often purely consumable products, disposable, snapshots: therefore, I believe reviewing them is as challenging as reviewing a plate of McDonald's fries (which, by the way, I don’t like). They are often insignificant outside the moment you watch them, and, thus, devoid of possible meanings. If I were to review, as I intend to, "Amici di Maria de Filippi," I wouldn’t actually be talking about television – like Aldo Grasso or my mentor Beniamino Placido – but I would be discussing something entirely different; but unlike cinema or music, where art serves a broader reflection, here, the work (with a lowercase "o") would simply be an occasion, not a pretext: and the distinction, linguistic as well as conceptual, won't escape you. To illustrate, I should tell you how – on certain Saturdays last spring – I was excited to follow the exploits of Pasqualino, and how I discussed it with a distant relative who, synchronously, was doing and thinking what I was doing and thinking about Pasqualino; or how thrilled I was when I ran into Chicco Sfondrini on the street, with his whole family, and wondered – without having the courage to ask him – why he ended up on the jury of "Amici." Or, even, how much I pondered the teaching methods of dance and applied arts in the post-Soviet Eastern countries or Albania, while following Ambeta Toromani's performances. Or how much I appreciate, regarding another show of no secondary interest to me, the opinions of Gianni Sperti and Tina Cipollari in "Uomini e donne": think that a friend’s roommate ended up becoming a tronista, from what I learned, not without surprises, a few weeks ago (though I don’t know who she is). However – dear Ghemison – you understand that if I were to do this, and extend it to my favorite shows, like "Diretta Stadio. Ed è subito gol," "QSVS," "Il processo del lunedì," "Art Attack" and the like – not to mention soap operas like "Milagros," or "Anche i ricchi piangono," or TV movies with Lorenzo Lamas and Chuck Norris, the series "Extralarge," or infomercials for furniture & Co., in short, if my mission were to extend to TV as well, then I wouldn't have time to live during a period in my life when I have this need too. Certainly, rereading this whole list has sparked some desire in me. I hope this discourse leads you to care for me, rather than hate me, for no reason. Sorry, anyway, for this de-filippica. Sincerely Yours – also ominously and womanishly Yours – Il_Paolo

Yes, I would really be happy if you told me who I am, because I don't even know who I am, despite my tendency to reflect a lot on my identity. The fact that you know is interesting. It would mean that you don’t know me but you know me better than I know myself: which makes me wonder if I know you too, even without really knowing you, and how I have these qualities. In fact, we both share them. We could start a partnership together, to tell others who I really am, and thus make a bit of money from the identities of others, because even if you’re wrong, you still make them happy (but Alberoni and Andreoli are already doing that). Jokes aside, I’m glad you understood that I’m not a fake, but I’m real. I assure you, though, that I am also unique, in the sense that Il_Paolo writes for Il_Paolo and not for others, with fake names. Because it would be difficult to manage all these identities without getting confused. Confusingly Yours, Il_Paolo

Dear Francescobus: just remember that it wasn't the Barbara d'Urso of today, it was the one from thirty years ago. Not stupid, Memo.

Thank you Chaw, you are one of my most diligent and kind readers, you deserve my autumn greeting. What can I say: surely the Vanzina have let themselves go in recent years, but, in my opinion, they had a stroke of genius with "Un ciclone in famiglia" (it should be theirs, I hope I'm not saying something incorrect), a TV series that I personally love for how it outlines the directions of contemporary Italy (with a great Carlo Buccirosso, an absolute maestro of our comedy). ST, Il_Paolo

@Thank you Jake and Kirie, at least I know that - once we go out with Monica Bellucci - we can afford the luxury of not fighting over who takes her home, actually letting her go on her own and continue the evening in another way. @Axel: to be honest, my argument was more complex: nice, anyway, your synecdoche. SV, Il_Paolo