It had been strange reading Gordie's letter and Chapter Thirteen, with today being the day of the national funeral and all. It was strangely fitting, and obviously unintended, since I couldn't have any clue about the incipit of Part II.
On Sunday the subject of Nassirya went touched briefly. With a friend of mine telling she cried, when she heard the news on TV, telling about the private stories of each soldier. Now excuse me, but it made me somewhat upset, and that's why I didn't tell a word on the subject. Because I saw that very show, and it didn't touched me, but it made me feel quite sick. Call me cynical, if you want. The idea of talking about their life may not had been that original, but surely wasn't all that bad either. What was nauseating was the way they worked the idea out. The words they used, the language, the style. Every very comma was meant to make the whole story heartbreaking. And if you want people to be touched by what you say, you better not make the tricks you use so clear. Honestly, if I could point them out, everyone else could too.
And yet, when I see people take for sure truths every word the news spill over them, without bothering to at least try to think about them, I can't help but get angry. But with my diplomacy skills being what they are, I prefer most of the times just keep silent. I am very aggressive when I'm angry and it proved to be quite counterproductive.
And the Nationalism! The Patriotism! Dear God, how much false is all that! Italians never bothered with Patriotism till now, till the "war" they were anyway so keen on promoting actually produced some effect on them. If this is not hypocrisy, then I honestly don't know what it is. What were the WarSupporters thinking, that it was something far from them? That the bombs exploding would kindly spare Italian soldiers, because they are so nice, and only blow up the rest of the army?
Now don't get me wrong. It's not that I don't care about the 19 men died in Nassirya. But I can't just watch all the apparatus built around them without saying anything.
God. I've never heard of Homeland once in twenty years.
And it's because of what I've said, and not in spite of it, that I feel that those death had been absolutely wrong, and unfair.

(Yes, the icon is ironic.)

Ok, this is very little about At Swim and very much about my own quirks. I apologize, because I'm liking the book in an almost disgusting way, so I will be talking a lot about it. Oh, and Jo? I should thank you. Your positive review (ok, your worship) had been one of the things that had me buying it.
Yesterday I've laid my little, dear paws over ASTB. *glee*
For the first time I'm really glad that there is Eurochocolate, because the library was open also during the lunch break.

Oh, and am I the only one who thinks that translating one's own works in one's own language isn't as easy as one would think? =__= Gods, I'm hopeless.

Richiesta d'aiuto a italiani/e.. voi sapete se c'รจ un termine militare italiano corrispondente all'inglese Missing In Action? ^^"""
Gah! I love it when I'm so lucky. I'm just awfully happy.
So, the other day I went to my fav library, to see if I could find Good Omens. No such luck, but I bought Whitman's Leaves of Grass instead. And I'm liking it.
So, again. Today I go to another library, always to search for Good Omens. (When I say I'm stubborn, it is because I'm stubborn.) And what do I find instead? At. Swim. Two. Boys. In English. I'm just too glad. I talked with the customer, and this afternoon or tomorrow morning I'll buy it.
Gah!
^____^

Oh, and yesterday Vale told me that perhaps she and Melissa (yes, Mad, that Melissa ^^) will come to Perugia for Eurochocolate. XD

Nope. The "Nella Patisserie" stand isn't still there. But there's Bruco instead.

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kasche

January 2009

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