A haggard mole, encountering an overweight ant, asked to join its feast, and the ant gladly agreed, offering sumptuous crumbs...

but after a month of free lunches and dinners, the poor ant grew thin, offering much of itself to that kind and gourmet mole...and a very small one is certainly not appropriate for large families...

then from the sky, like a meteorite, an enormous crumb fell, a leftover from a sandwich that the mole god and the ant god were sharing among the clouds...it must be said that those two bizarre minor deities, unlike their faded mortal copies, were really in excellent health...but it is well known, in heaven it goes great and on earth, you make do...

however, the crumb caused more trouble than anything else, hitting the poor mole on the head and giving the ant a nice indigestion...certainly, the opposite would have been worse...

despite the relative success, our bearded god, who was peering and had been short of ideas for some time, invented that little thing called divine providence...a case of plagiarism if you look closely, although no one took offense...

however, in reality, attention...that little thing, divine providence, may not be to be thrown away...let's leave aside the bearded god, that ridiculous fruit of our poor imagination...and let's forget that I joked about it...

rather, let's think about what divine providence really means...whoever is in the throes of enthusiasm, which literally means full of god, is full of trust and not afraid...

whoever is full of god trusts in god...

"why should we be afraid?" said a certain someone, poor, poor...

exactly, why?

here, in our century, one of the most impressive expressions of enthusiasm was rock'n'roll...only that it soon proved to be a blatant disappointment, amidst narcissism, the cult of personality, a new aristocracy of crap, and geniuses capable only of self-destruction, or worse, fattening up in empty clichés...

reading a book like "Please kill me" is disheartening...I can only tell you that you reach the end exhausted...a tower of crap with people of crap...and it doesn't matter if many are my personal myths...

in the end, rock turned out to be like that crumb fallen from the table of two minor deities (let's make it the god of singers and that of guitarists) and caused more trouble than anything else...

we like it anyway...but what a sadness...

we like it anyway...but now enough...

what we want now is a traveling little orchestra...tunes, innocence...

and that movie comes to mind where a medieval knight, his squire, a wandering actor, his wife, and their child, drink milk and eat strawberries....

with the knight saying: I will remember this moment, the milk, the strawberries, the child playing, the sun or whatever....

so milk, strawberries, children, not shitty drugs and fattened rock stars...

or the circus romp...

that in the quick and clear wind of a dream that passes, on the cart that melodiously drags almost a holy family, the smile of the daughter of the air, a circus musician, is beautiful...

damn if it is beautiful...

here are the wandering actors of the seventh seal, the circus romp...and maybe the two buskers who sang "Via del campo" in Bologna many years ago...

and of the good old times we keep only a bit of joyous sixties madness, a bit of healing extravagance besides something of your choice...

let's get out of this century of crap...much better a random poor someone than any David Bowie...

even if I really loved David Bowie...and I loved the Velvet and Iggy and Nico...but now enough...

little orchestra...little orchestra...little orchestra...LITTLE ORCHESTRA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




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