Enigmatico

Il gruppo che si pone delle domande complesse.

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Aggiungetemi!
" A u t o b i o g r a p h y "

I lead a quiet life
here at Mike’s every day
watching the stars
of Dante’s Billiard Room
and the French guys hooked on pinball.

I lead a quiet life
at the end of East Broadway.

I am an American.

I was an American boy.

I read the American Boy Magazine
and I was a boy scout
in a residential neighborhood.

I thought I was Tom Sawyer
when I caught crayfish in the Bronx River
and imagined it was the Mississippi.

I had a baseball glove
and an American Flyer bicycle.

I delivered the Woman’s Home Companion
at five in the afternoon
or the Herald Tribune
at five in the morning.

I still hear the thump of the newspaper
on those lost porches.

I had an unhappy childhood.

I saw Lindberg land.

I looked toward home
and saw no angel.

They caught me stealing pencils
at the Five and Ten Cent Store
the same month I made Eagle Scout.

I cut down trees for the ccc
and sat on them.

I landed in Normandy
in a rowboat that capsized.

I saw the well-trained armies
on the beach at Dover.

I saw Egyptian pilots in purple clouds
shopkeepers raising their shutters
at noon
potato and dandelion salad
at anarchist picnics.

I am reading Lorna Doone
and a life of John Most
terror of industrialists
a bomb on his desk at all times.

I saw the street cleaners parade
in the Columbus Day Parade
behind the sharp
farting trumpeters.

It’s been a long time since I went
to the Cloisters
or the Tuileries
but I still think
about going.

I saw the street cleaners parade
in a snowstorm.

I ate hotdogs in baseball stadiums.

I heard the Gettysburg Address
and the Ginsberg Address.
I like it here
and I will not go back
to where I came from.

I too have traveled in boxcars, boxcars, boxcars.

I traveled along with unknown men.

I have been in Asia
with Noah in the Ark.

I was in India
when they built Rome.

I was in the Manger
with a Donkey.

I saw the Eternal Gas Station
from a White Hill
in South San Francisco
and the Laughing Woman in a Lunatic-Park
outside the Haunted House
under a mighty downpour
still laughing.

I heard the din of revelry
at night.

I wandered alone
like a crowd.

I lead a quiet life
in front of Mike’s every day
contemplating the world walking past me
in its curious shoes.

Once I set out
to walk around the world
but ended up in Brooklyn.

That Bridge was too much for me.

I have dedicated myself in silence
to exile and cunning.

I flew too close to the sun
and lost my wax wings.

I am looking for my Old Man
whom I never knew.

I am looking for the Lost Leader
I once flew with.

The young should be explorers.

La c
 
Gianni Berengo Gardin has left us, but not his black-and-white works.
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He once said about himself, "Non sono un mito sono un artigiano." (rip)
 
Saverio Costanzo, “In Gaza only darkness and fear are real”
Private - Di Saverio Costanzo ( 2004 )

Some films are able to endure over time. Private (2004), the debut of director Saverio Costanzo, is, unfortunately or fortunately, one of them. The film is based on a true and highly relevant story: the home of a Palestinian professor, Mohammad, is occupied by a group of Israeli soldiers. Mohammad, together with his family, chooses not to leave the house, opting for a silent, non-violent resistance. Saverio Costanzo presents the story in a raw, universal manner. With this film, he won the Golden Leopard at Locarno in 2004. Private was shown again during the twenty-ninth edition of the Umbria Film Festival...

Saverio Costanzo, «a Gaza solo il buio e la paura sono reali» | il manifesto Edition of July 16, 2025

The director recounts his debut “Private” about the Israeli occupation, presented again at the Umbria Film Festival
“In this house lives a large Palestinian Muslim family—father, mother, and several children.
A quiet life, without upheavals, though with fear for what is happening around them, and for what one day might also shatter their existence.

This comes true when a group of Israeli soldiers bursts into the house and decides to use it as an outpost, occupying the upper floor and leaving the family only the kitchen, which becomes a kind of prison-room.

A revelation at the latest Locarno Film Festival (Golden Leopard), Saverio Costanzo’s film has the undeniable merit of being able to depict the dynamics of a perpetual conflict by observing its most hidden, intimate aspects; it is the particular that becomes universal because, as we know, not only is the story of the film true, but it could have happened an infinite number of times, or may happen again.

Private transcends any form of moral commentary, focusing on the situation itself, on the (tremendous) psychological consequences it provokes in the characters, especially the children, closely observing steady and resolute faces (never expressionless), with a deliberately and exemplarily contrasted and grainy cinematography.

A (hyper)realist style, making broad use of handheld camera, in the clear attempt to pull the viewer inside that house, experiencing a clash which, little by little, becomes more and more difficult to endure.

And Private lets glimpse, between the lines, even a faint hint, nothing more than a truncated sketch, at the possibility of a dialogue, of an encounter between two cultures that often seem unable to come to terms, even when they might want to; a leftover of humanity among the soldiers, a flash of acquiescence from the head of the family’s young daughter toward them.

Then everything returns to how it was, with the soldiers leaving as they came, the family trying to resume its life, after having peacefully, resolutely defended their home.

But the ending is harrowing; the shadow of repetition attualissima:
 
Date Al Diavolo Un Bimbo Per Cena the title would refer to the child-eaters from Sir Philip Pullman’s 1995 novel "Northern Lights," released in Italy as "La Bussola D'Oro" (among other things, in 2007 the book was adapted into the film "The Golden Compass" starring Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig, and the legendary Sir Christopher Frank Carandini Lee), while the unmistakable bass line was recreated by Saturnino following the style of "Billie Jean," reminiscent of Michael Jackson.

"Giova a me jova a te jova a tutti quelli che
Ci vogliono stare dentro
Alla periferia di nessun centro
1 per il sesso 2 per la cicogna
3 per il ruscello 4 per la fogna
Io sono l'MC il cerimoniere
Sono la metresse
Sono il pasticcere
Giova a me jova a te jova a tutti quelli che
Ci vogliono stare dentro
Alla periferia di nessun centro
Sono a metà strada nella selva oscura
1 per la tecnica, 2 per la natura
Cerco il mio Virgilio
Morto di overdose
Cerco la beatrice ma oggi ha le sue cose
Cica cica bum ho una cicatrice
Sembra un tatuaggio sai che cosa dice
Fin qui tutto bene quindi procediamo
1 per il pesce, 2 per l'amo
Sono il pescatore a mia volta pescato
Sono il peccatore e sono il peccato
Chi inventò il dubbio che gli spaccò il culo
Si sta così bene quando si é al sicuro
Faccia sotto al sole verità in tasca
Come un pesce d'allevamento dentro una vasca
Crescere é un problema disse il bonsai
Il baobab rispose accontentati di quello che hai
Chissà perché rispose il piccoletto
Sono sempre i grandi a fare il pistolotto
Uno per il baobab due per il bonsai
Tre per chi sempre quattro per chi mai
Jova a me jova a te giova a tutti quelli che
Ci voglion stare dentro
Cica cica bum altra cicatrice
Sembra un tatuaggio sai che cosa dice
Fin qui tutto bene quindi andiamo avanti
Uno per chi pochi due per chi tanti
Date al diavolo un bimbo per cena uno due tre ragazzini
Date al diavolo un bimbo per cena dieci cento mille bambini
Luce stroboscopica lampada di Wood
Verbi irregolari understand understood
Danze figurate marce militari
Uno per la polvere due per gli altari
Io sono una piazza io sono una strada
Io sono il cavallo io sono la biada
Io sono nessuno tranne per qualcuno
E tra un pasto e l'altro, per protesta digiuno
Onda dopo onda cambio il mio contorno
Io sono la pizza io sono il forno
Troppa pastasciutta mi può strangolare
Troppa informazione mi fa sragionare
Troppa libertà mi ha fatto inceppare
Troppa verità mi ha fatto impazzire
Io sono Clark Kent, sono Superman
Ho i superpoteri quanto parte la jam
Il mondo é la mia casa il cielo é il mio tetto
Ho perso le chiavi sto qui fuori e aspetto
Guardo dentro al buco pezzi di nirvana
Fuggo da un eterno finesettimana
Uno per lo yoga due per la scintilla
Tre per l'antibiotico quattro per la villa
Giova a me jova a te giova a tutti quelli che
Credo in un solo Dio madre onnipotente
Creatore di chi crede e di chi non é credente
Uno per l'orient
 
I've been here for four thousand one hundred and twenty-four long days, and during all this time, I've undeservedly received a gift, namely an ebook, from the ever-so-lovely @[Flo] (whom I will always thank for this) who made it available to anyone interested. The original title is "Os Cus de Judas," and it was the second book published by António Lobo Antunes back in '79. In Italy, it was only released in '96 (just think about how poorly we were doing back then regarding modern/contemporary literary cultures beyond our national borders...) with the curious title "In culo al mondo." The reason for this long preface is soon explained: since I'm running out of internal space on my kindle and I only have about sixty megabytes left, I wanted to make some space by first deleting the English/Italian dictionary, which you can find online whenever you want, so I can add the last fifty books downloaded on the work PC. While scrolling through the kindle list, I spotted my bookmarks, including a couple of highlighted phrases from ALA's novella.
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1 - Your highlight at position 272-273 | Added on Monday, June 29, 2015 9:01:22 PM
"And as for philosophy, my dear, the editorial of the newspaper is enough for us, as rich in ideas as the Gobi desert can be rich in Eskimos."
2 - Your highlight at position 582-583 | Added on Tuesday, June 30, 2015 7:25:45 PM
"My father, skinny and angular like a Mormon, drifted on the armchair, propelled by the ship's chimney of his pipe."

And nothing, but if you get the chance, I highly recommend reading it nonetheless...
 
"Life is nothing but a long loss..." (Victor Hugo) Carmelo Bene - Cos'è il Teatro?! [Versione (dis)integrale] but with Carmelo Pompilio Realino Antonio Bene five and a half hours are well spent.
 
Tracey Thorn - Dancefloor (Ewan Pearson 12” Mastermix)

Life is an effort that would be worthy of a better cause.
.: Karl Kraus, "Sayings and Contradictions" :.

#undettoacaso 1
 
This novel written in 1934 piques my curiosity quite a bit, has anyone read it yet?
I’m copying and pasting the following regarding the book:

"Op Oloop is a Finnish statistician living in Buenos Aires.
He has strictly structured his life within the certainties that only numbers provide him, shaping his daily routine around an obsession with calculation, yielding to an existence forged by discipline.
He is harsh in his judgments, precise in his complaints, affable in demeanor, and ready for revenge when he believes he has been wronged.
He meticulously carries out every whim of his habit until April 22, 1934, when an external pressure, impossible to manage with rationality alone, overwhelms his routine.
Franziska, his fiancée, awaits him at their engagement party, but a trivial taxi accident prevents him from arriving on time. The mishap is an anomalous wave that, in the emotional seismograph of Op Oloop, breaks the banks of his identity until it submerges the perfection of his method into the depths of his psyche.
The statistician thus succumbs to radical anarchy, blowing apart every social convention he had been a staunch defender of until that moment."

The unexpected and total madness of Op Oloop shapes the plot and its narrative, as if Juan Filloy wants to convey that literature is only truly such when all inhibitions and reticences are finally set aside.

With a vivid style, a consistently cheerful tone, and a sustained rhythm, Filloy delivers to the reader the perfect and detailed account of a man's madness, tracing in language and form the key to a narrative that becomes polyphonic, with notes that are sometimes jarring, sometimes sweeter, successfully achieving what few can: writing a work with an unmistakable melody.

"Op Oloop" by Juan Filloy, Printed by Ago Edizioni in 2024, 356 pages translated by Giulia Di Filippo, €19.00 - ISBN: 9788894755435
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On the cover: Kyvèli Zoi, It’s About Time, 2021 - Oil on linen, 25×20 cm - Courtesy of the artist and Acappella Gallery