On April 29, 1945, while in Milan the Duce delle merde is hanging like a salami from a vending machine, in Rome instead is born the author of one of the best songs of the '60s, which unfortunately is still sung today with superficiality, when not total hypocrisy, by a lot of people on the left, who are ready, when things really happen, to dissociate, denounce, point fingers, discriminate, attack, oust, etc... for that obscene Catholic moralism that is as much an enemy of proletarian violence as it is a lover of state repression. For us, today, it’s not the dead crapa pelada, Pedenovi or Ramelli, but Pietrangeli is born. Contessa - Paolo Pietrangeli