Omero
L' Odissea

One of the greatest works humanity remembers and a sui generis review to make it appreciated by those who, like me, hated it viscerally as kids, and by today’s twelve-year-old debaserians who do not understand why time should be spent studying it.

Pride: excellent servant; terrible master. The power of pride-as-master has been spoken about not just by saints. Even pagans knew it well – even if they hadn't read the story of Eden, its trees, and its apple. And they knew it so well that they gave it a precise name: "hybris" (“arrogance”).

The hero of our odyssey has slipped on the peel of arrogance. And being a genius doesn't help him one bit. Because the fall of the best is the worst.

The arrogant one has fallen, from dizzying heights. But he is still breathing. He must have some saint in Heaven – rather, some God on Olympus. And Olympus would gladly help him, if it weren't for the fact that Citizen Ulysses thinks he can do it on his own. Well, if you need no one, you'll be Mr. No One.

And for ten years, it’s No One against Neptune. Ten years. Until the day the Citizen stops acting like the Star:

- I give up!!! What do you want from me, Neptune?!
- Haven’t you figured it out yet, Fonzie?

But Fonzie doesn't get it. He doesn't understand and despairs:

- My name is cursed by the gods, Alcinous.
- What are you saying? Your glorious name deserves every help.

What? Help right now, just when I've realized I don't deserve it? Life is strange.

Off, straight home. And the ship sails like a marvel. But what’s happening? Has Neptune gone on holiday? No One is in confusion. The confusion that precedes enlightenment:

- No One, alone, is no one.
- Finally, you've got it, little man…

He who humbles himself will be exalted. The little man has become great. From No One to Someone.

Telemachus weeps. Dad is back:

- Let's tear those swines apart, father.
- Calm down, my son. Getting angry is easy. Difficult is to be angry for the right reason, and at the right time.

Unbelievable. From idiot to philosopher. Such graZZZia.

How rude, laughing at that poor beggar. But the beggar laughs with them. How nice it is to be close to these funny little men. They make me feel like a God – just now that I understand I'm not one. Life is strange.

Alright, we’ve joked enough. It's time to take the pacifier away from these grown-up children.

And who could have imagined that behind Clark Kent could be hiding Superman…

1, 2, 3: unleash hell.

A Moral that gives us hope: humility (in the long run) always wins; evil (in the long run) always loses.