Luciano Pavarotti
Pavarotti & Friends

THE REVIEW

Pavarottate There are many things to be ashamed of in Italy: unpunished massacres, magistrates left alone against the mafia, Ustica, Vajont, Sarno, the earthquake victims' shanties that pay property tax, the Coronas, Costanzo, De Filippi, the big brothers, the state gambling halls, scratch cards, unjust justice, business parties and party businesses, the Lapo Elkann and the Meles, the oil tycoon presidents who finance shopping sprees with Cip-6, fourth world railways, the precarious and underpaid workers, those killed on the job, the terrorist unions and the best-selling terrorists, Guzzanti's irony on Fallaci's cancer, legalized usurious banks. And those who don't pay taxes. Everyone can extend the list as they wish. But in my top ten of Italian shame, there is this ignoble, inane, terrible sparkling factory of solidarity that had one of its peaks (or low points) in Pavarotti and friends, but in which we can include the Liga-Jova-Pelù of "My name is never again", Telethon, Thirty hours for life, and similar clowneries. I'm sorry to know that war is financed with my taxes, that research in Italy is not funded with my taxes, but I can try to remedy this by voting for someone who says and most importantly keeps this principle: respect the Constitution and I will no longer make war, nor will I support others', we will remove the barons from the universities and things like that. If Emergency, the Red Cross, the missionary fathers, and all the rest are good things, there is the 0.8 percent, the 0.5 percent, there are personal and private donations. In addition, of course, to my taxes (Pavarotti, where are you?). And then there's my conscience. My conscience is dirty because I use it a lot. I distrust those who have it clean. Therefore: make your (silent) donation to whoever you want and especially not on command, and pay taxes based on the degree of dirtiness of your conscience. You are already doing a lot if you limit yourself to this. Since I am sure there will be a great Pavarotti and friends soon, oh yes, there will be, a colossal circus-begging in the name of this and that, even more pitiful because it will leverage the memory of the recently deceased, I ask for hospitality from the editors to express this simple concept to anyone who will scramble to organize it trying to ask me for money: GO TO HELL