Eneathedevil

So, the first part is from DeMa, while the second is from Algol from "Eccovi" onward, when the foul language takes over. Clearly, I wouldn't listen to it even under the influence of Popper, in the sense of the philosopher.

Damn, you got my hopes up with all those shiny links: I was expecting something spectacular, but in the end, it's just harmless photos despite the juicy leads about King Idris and Berlusconi. Still an interesting proposal, as they say.

Uhm, the psychedelic Labradford? Are you ready to take responsibility for this very strong and also subversive statement, Stan? Otherwise, with a title like that, one cannot help but be drawn to such an evocative work, even though the cover has a truly peculiar ugliness.

So only a sixth of the album is reserved for rappuserie? Then I'll listen to it. Great review, dear nerd!

Dear Kyrie, I could not and should not be hasty by remaining silent in the face of such writing, for I certainly would not want there to be no room for discussion alongside such a dense "narration," and my tongue is forked, and I cannot lie to you and to myself: I have never loved Primo. The reason? You say it: "in 214 pages Primo does not have a single word of condemnation for his torturers." I read "If This Is a Man" as a teenager when, at the end of the school year, we were assigned books to read during the summer holidays, and it was a slow and bloody read: each new page brought me closer to the Levi imprisoned in the hope of sensing a shiver, a collapse, a cry of pain and disgust that echoed what I felt in front of the horror described. But the wait proved futile, so much so that soon a progressive repulsion replaced my initial approach. Too young to understand? Perhaps. I tried again with "The Truce" a few years later, but it was worse. And I must say it was a satisfaction to receive the earnest agreement of my Italian teacher at the time when I confessed that I preferred a small gem like "The Silence of the Living" by Elisa Springer, read in one breath, to the analytical and aseptic writing of Levi.

Let it be clear, this does not in any way diminish my perception of the value of your review, if it can be called that. But you will understand that my "feeling" regarding Levi cannot align with yours. On the rest, I could have nothing to object, except for that initial anacoluthon that gave me a slight pang in my stomach (I have the impression that I need to play the role of @[GrammarNazi] this time), but I realize that perhaps there is no other way to express more incisively that image in which a young Kyrie approached Levi for the first time. And now I fall silent, also in deference to the gigantic Dmitri.

A misunderstanding has arisen, I believe. You are talking about a different record than the one from 1984, but it seems that not everyone has grasped this, except for that usual old angler @[HOPELESS], judging by the generosity of the ratings that seem to imply judgments towards the original work. Yet, since the title of the album (and the cover) you had been clear. However, in the rest of the review, the outlines of one work and the other tend to blur, confusing each other, or at least you do not provide tangible, clear, distinctive elements through which a proper line of division can be traced. If I had to rate the work, I would give 4 sesterces to the original, but you are talking about something else, so I won’t do it. If I had to rate the review, I would give 5 guineas for your pale and absorbed mid-afternoon, but to untangle the maze you forced me to reread the review, and I cannot forgive you for that. What a scoundrel I am.

It can only be the best possible review of this De André album, of which I also appreciate "Malato", believing it to be the most beautiful piece in his entire discography. It is the best review because it speaks of what is fair to talk about: the storytelling. There is no trace of anything else, and I will stop here, as those who know me are well aware of how conflicted my relationship with the Genoese singer-songwriter is. Joe in great form.

Damn you @Martello: it would have just taken a few more words for each feature film and in the end, you could have made a ranking by sending one review at a time (maybe on a weekly basis): that way, an effective indexing of Pixar's works on the DB would have been created and no one would have complained. I must be honest: I read the mini-reviews and apart from the punctuation ad mentulam canis, they seem to be fairly focused analyses. I’ll just say that I didn't dislike Brave and Monsters University might deserve a bit more recognition: in my opinion, it maintains a good pace throughout the film and the university campus setting is lively without being derivative of movies in the same genre. As for the rest, you’re still the same old you.

Joe is a tad less inspired than usual, in my opinion, but still punctual and with a concise and polished syntax. And then, even when it comes to a senile Spielberg, one must always wonder if it's worth keeping an eye on, much like when Agassi was around until he was 35: you could never rule him out of the tournament favorites. And now I have good reasons to pass on it, at least this time.

Oh, but "The Force of Life," which in the end wasn’t such a bad song, gave me the chance to come up with a series of variations on the lyrics that had a tremendous emotional impact, first among them being "The Force of the Dick," which went:
"When you feel
The zipper between your fingers
You will recognize it
The force of the dick!!!"
So naturally, I feel a strong connection to this delicate lament. The review isn't very clear about where it aims to go: an existential snapshot with grotesque overtones? A semi-serious reassessment of the Italian nineties? A humorous supercazzola? Perhaps only the force of life can give us an answer.