Cultural Homologation

In the mid '90's (gee,I am officially old referring to my childhood as a decade!) Daniele Silvestri released a song entitled "Le cose che abbiamo in comune" - the things we have in common - in the video he is a radical-chic who sings about talking to a girl who is has everything in common with - from having two arms,two eyes,two legs and one brain to musical taste which would lead one to think at first "oh,how cute,he's found the gal of his dreams!" wrong. In fact, the video shows that the fashion forwardly dressed young man is not talking to a girl, but to the prototype woman he is constructing in his lab and brainwashing thus crafting her into being his perfect match. It's a clever song,with a super catchy tune to it but it also expresses the scary truth of our times about cultural homologation - we all want to be surrounded by our speculars,coz,let's face it, a lot of us are afraid of what's different. We all know the things we fear the most are the ones we do not know, or have a personal experience with. In this sense, knowledge is empowerment. However such longing to fit in out of fear of discovering what's alien from us can be our worst enemy. Often, Fabio Volo writes, a lot of people call "L.O.V.E" their desire to possess. We often keep loved ones as "status symbols", medals of honour more than enrichments to our life journeys, additions to our experiences, water that makes our already joy-filled cups overflow!
So if I can give us all a piece of advice today is "USE YOUR BRAIN!" Stop aspiring to be like someone you see on tv,but only be inspired to be the best you can be..find out what you are good at and excell at it,live life to the full and good things will come your way..better things than the ones you could have brought your way by your own knowledge of what was suitable for you!

The Present

I often get asked the same ol' question every Western girl gets asked around about their birthday.."so,any prince Charming in shiny armours on the horizon yet?" Now more than ever the answer is: "yes, plenty"..the point is that not because one thinks some one is nice, they should feel innately compelled to wanting more from them. I have been fighting for so long against conventionalism that I guess now it has become my natural way of thinking. I live a happy,full and delightful life. Perfect just the way it is. So why should I be wanting more?

It was my twenty-something birthday party a few days ago. Some of my best gals and some of my male pals had been invited. It was a fun evening. We ate and drunk and laughed and I got quite a few nice gifts. My ladies got me some lovely stuff from my favourite surfers' shop. Nice. My boys also got me some amazing stuff: some of my favourite music and books..which I already had. Don't get me wrong. I have been taught to be thankful for a present whenever you get one, and I do. Frankly, I thought their presents were kind and lovely. However this brought me to make some considerations. Wasn't it emblematic that the wonderful things my "potential-princes-charming" had provided for me where the things I already had? May be I may be accused of being cynical and cold-hearted, but why should I make sacrifices and compromise to get something I already have? Just think.

Pillows of Salt and Sand..

Brand new sounds for my beloved Coldplay. Audacious, experimental, fresh, impressive. "Viva la Vida and Death or Death and All His Friends" is currently my favourite album - I have been listening to it for over a month now repetedly and totally enjoyed the discovery of increasingly more profound meanings and interesting musical nouànce. We have been singing "Lost!", as an anthem of hope and rebirth, sweetly, "Lovers in Japan" and, as singing "Viva la Vida" ... perplexedly stopped at the enigma over what it could mean..

Before I tell you what I think, I would like to hear what you make of this song - unabridged, spontaneous, unconditional. My next post is already written.. I value your opinion.



I used to rule the world
Seas would rise when I gave the word
Now in the morning I sleep alone
Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice
Feel the fear in my enemies eyes
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key
Next the walls were closed on me
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt, and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
Once you know there was never, never an honest word
That was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors to let me in.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums
People could not believe what I'd become
Revolutionaries Wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppet on a lonely string
Oh who would ever want to be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world

Hear Jerusalem bells are ringings
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror my sword and shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can not explain
I know Saint Peter will call my name
Never an honest word
But that was when I ruled the world

Only one hundred steps away...

I recently re-watched a beautiful movie called "I Cento Passi" (One Hundred Steps). It reached international acclaim a few years back together with more popular movies about organized crime, a denunciation of Mafia and its effects on the lives of many people who coexist with it. "I cento passi" (one hundred steps) was the distance between the Impastatos' house and the house of Tano Badalamenti, an important Mafia boss, in the small Sicilian town of Cinisi. The movie is the story of Peppino Impastato, a young left-wing activist that in the late seventies (when almost nobody dared to speak about Mafia, and several politicians maintained that Mafia did not even exist) repeatedly denounced Badalamenti crimes and the whole Mafia system using a small local radio station, with the arm of irony. In 1978 Peppino (30 years old) was killed by an explosion. The police archived the case as an accident or a suicide, but his friends never accepted this thesis. Note: This is a true story. More than wenty years after Peppino's death, the case has been re-opened. Tano Badalamenti, meanwhile, has been convicted in USA for drug traffic. I thought again about it this morning, whilst stuck in a traffic-jam caused by an abandoned vehicle on the side of a narrow city road. The car hadn't properly been abandoned by its owners. The car had previously been stolen and, under the owner's refusal to pay money to get it back, the robbers burnt it and left it on the side of the road, a so called unpaid "cavallo di ritorno" (return horse). You see I often wonder what you think about this. As a southern Italian, even if from a rather privileged background, I am aware and accustomed to all these idiosyncrasies. Weird. Weired that one can live so close to injustice, those physical hundred steps that suddenly become conceptual, ideological, moral and back and be accustomed to it.


"I Cento Passi" - Modena City Ramblers

What Where You Up to in 1983?

The last song that soundtracks "Mio Fratello e' Figlio Unico" it's a song my sister and I often sing hysterically in the car or hum as we are getting ready to go out. It's a what now seems to be an 'old song', first recorded in 1983. I still find it quite bizarre, to say the least, that I listen, like and even know by heart songs that were conceived when I was! I am such an 80's kid! Think about it though: 1983 was such a good year. The Eurythmics recorded "Sweet Dreams (are made of this)", "All Night Long" (Lionel Richie) came out together with "Uptown Girl" by Billy Joel, "New Year's Day" by the legendary U2 and "Every breath you take" by Police! In 1983 Swatch introduced their first watches, the Vatican finally retracted their ban on Galileo Galilei, Nintendo game console was about to begin to change generations of kids, the first democratic elections are held in Argentina after 7 years of military totalitarianism, my mom and dad were busy handling a screaming little baby girl and there I was! But what about you? What were you up to in 1983? - sorry it doesn't rhyme!

Freedom Is...

When my mom and dad first started dating in the late 1970's, they used to write each other cards representing a semi-naked chubby character (cupid-like) who made statements such as "love is.." (Nothing kinky relax - I promise I will scan some of them in as soon as I get back home). Must admit it was a bit of a shock when, age 9, I found those cards in a box at the bottom of mommy's wardrobe (not to mention my dad's personal journals...) - do you think one goes to hell for nosing into their parents journals?! Anyway. All this just to explain the title of my post! Also it has just occurred to me that writing kinda runs in the family.I wish I could say "we don't talk much", hence we write, but that would be a blatant lie. What can I say: we are just a communicative type of family, that's all... This morning I was reading the Metro on my way to work. In front page an article about Alan Johnston, the BBC journalist freed after being held by Palestinian militants for 114 days. On being free he rather articulately stated, "You want to do everything at the same time, to read books and papers, go to the movies, beach and sit in the sun, and eat and talk and all the rest of it." But is that really what freedom means? I am intrigued. Karen recently introduced me to a new American slang expression, "to check one's vitals",to check your email, myspace, facebook, blog, and/or any daily essential websites. Check your vitals. For example: "Get off the computer, whore. I need to check my vitals." "Hey, wanna go get something to eat?Sure, but lemme finish checkin' my vitals first." I mean how free can one truly be when the indication of their freedom is judged against their ability to possess a certain knowledge, communicate interactively, access the right facilities. The idiotic former Italian prime minister, Silvio Berlusconi, once stated, with regards to the "War on Terrorism" that the Eastern world is an uncivilized world. He is an idiot and there is no doubt about that, however, how often are many of us guilty of considering, more or less consciously, non-Western civilizations less erudite, cultured and, let's face it, 'civilized'? In Italy we have this Encyclopedia called "Treccani" - the whole collection costs an average of £20K (that's, of course, without the dictionary and the additional supplements..) I know because my dad very generously bought me the whole thing when I was about 12. Along goes the opinion that if you don't have one of those, you are a nobody. What?! That's outrageous, isn't it? What about those who use the public library? (after all the fact that you possess an encyclopedia does not automatically imply that you read it) Moreover, who decided what "civilized", "cultured", "hip" is? How free we really are if our lives are so much dictated by the gym we go to to get the body magazines impose us to have by eating/not eating the foods we are told are "good for us", listening to the music we are told to listen to, watch the movies we have heard about and read the books of the moment? I am sick of the package holidays. Sick of doing the things everybody else does without even questioning them. But, for all of my talk, I am caught up in this huge spiral deeper than I ever thought I could be. Make up, wax, scrubbing, moisturising, tonic, three liters of water per day, 5 portions of fruit/veg, exercise at least three times a week (anything less is sloppy), walk instead of taking the car, buy organic and fairtrade, take your own recycled bag to the supermarket, buy "Word" magazine once a month and, when no-one is watching, get "Glamour" too (just for the little free gift, of course), skinny-sugar-free-fat-free-heck-taste-free fairtrade drink...ENOUGH!

Practicalities, Practicalities, Practicalities!

One of the concepts I feel I have firmily consolidated over the past five years is that women are increadible multitaskers. Be it by nature or circumstances, women have to learn from a very early stage to be many things at once. However, in our postmodern context, this need is even amplified. Females, daughters, mothers,companions, sisters, sisters-in-law, daughters-in-law,house-keepers, events organizers, workers, supporters, friends, professional, shrew, caring, beautiful, effortless, strong, weak..I tell ya: being a woman is a right pain in the bottom at the best of times! Having all the same responsabilities as men, times ten, plus periods! What a great calling in life to be a woman! D'oh! Anyway, despite it all, I love being one - I am very proud of being rushed off my feet most of the day and to still be able to do everything with a smile on my face! It's like going to the gym after a hard day's work, have an intense work-out, then showering, mosturising, make-up on, fresh clothes, clean hair and feeling wonderful on the way out! It is all worth that feeling of gorgeousness in the end. With my departure coming up fast and furious, you can imagine I have around about a zillion things to organize...the joys! but I keep on reminding myself it will all be worth it in the end! (I hope so, anyway!).

'Go, Conquer the World With A Towel!'

As a follow up from my last post, I realised that my most recent entry lacked of substantial depth - ye, right Ivonne, you wanna change the world, but how exactly? Last night I was catching up with the news. Apparently yesterday the people of Northern Ireland and the world witnessed history. The leaders of two antagonistic extremist parties sat down together in the same room to plan a better future for their country. As I was watching that, I couldn't help but feel patronised about a condescending piece of news and vague promises I feel like we have heard before... In his most recent entry,Wiggy mentioned the apparent lack of forgiveness and Christian attitude which could be potentially jeopardising the political reconstruction process within the N.Irish context. Also yesterday a group of infuriated university students from Rome protested against Fausto Bertinotti, historical leader of the communist party in Italy, in contestation of his false promises and his failure to stick by the ideals that got him into power in the first place. The caricature on the right (which allow me to say, does not massively differ from the original..) depicts Bertinotti, a man who portraits ideals, values, power which are, the more I think about it, like dust in the wind..fragile,imperfect and failing. Parallel to this, I have been reading up the Naked Pastor's sermon from last week-end about how, in front of the failure of human philosophies, secular theories, religion and scientific discoveries, God's perfection exceeds them all by far (Psalm 119:96)
John Newton's familiar lyrics are piercing my mind and heart this morning.

'Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me

I once was lost, but now I am found

Was blind but now I see! '

The author obviously knew that beyond physical slavery, we all are or we have been slaves to our own consciences, selfishness, vices, sins, fears. I am often astounded by the many radical and life changing paradoxes about Christianity. The poor who end up be
ing the richest; the humble who shall be lifted up; the paradox of being blind when you have perfect sight and to be able to really see even if you are blind.. The more I think about wanting to change the world, the more I realise that Jesus oughts to be my icon and inspiration. He acted out what some would call, "an invisible revolution" where people's lives, cultures and societies were radically transformed by a touch on the hand, a communal meal with wrong-doers and a washing of the feet of a bunch of dirty, illiterate and quick tempered fishermen. "Go, and conquer the world with a towel" is a brilliant command which masterly encompasses the essence of Christian 'revolution'. Unfortunately, it ain't my creation. John Glass, the top man in Elim in the Uk, preached this on my first day at Bible College.. five years later, I am beginning to understand the power of the paradoxal truth of Christianity more and more. Beyond philosophy, religion, politics, science,theories, I believe, the essence of Christianity is still the key to world change. Go and change the world not with a war, a cruisade,a big slogan, but with humility, kindness, compassion, grace, Love. (Of course, shout if you must!)

Classy Lassy! - The Arcane Secrets of Human Psychosis

You must know the feeling yourselves, when you have got a stinking cold and breathing is enough of an effort (let alone trying to look lady like..) That's me this morning at the office:still fighting against a silly influenza which is making me sniffle, sneeze and blow my nose to much of my personal and my colleagues' annoyance! This morning on the bus there was a guy that was so lacking any manners that was pretty minging..He had extra fuzzy grey curly hair (nothing wrong with that!) and a full grown Victorian mustache. One may say, 'nothing wrong with wearing a mustache either...', but following Brian's all-inspiring post on people's annoying habits that get on your nerves, I'll confess: I have a real issue with people's..hairiness!!! I don't get it - the mustache guy on the bus who amongst many things kept on scratching his privates, vigorously picking his nose whilst 'eating the harvest' which got entangled in his facial hair..revolting or what? Anyway, even under more decent and composed circumstances, I struggle to understand facial hairs. Like how does a man with a tash lick his ice-cream? (I always make a mess of myself even without one) What would it feel like to kiss a guy with a full grown beard? (obviously never tried that before..) Guess men feel more...manly with their facial hair unshaven as they have waited years to hit puberty and gain this most explicit sign of manlihood..and I can totally understand the sex appeal of a little stubble in a guy..but women, what's that all about? During the last and most controversial British Big Brother show, Bollywood actress, Shilpa Shetty, was often caught happily bleaching her facial hairs on camera - classy, lassy! On the contrary, as displayed in her self portray above, Frida Kahlo, one of the most charismatic, provocative and psychotic 20th century female artists, never seemed to have any problems with priding herself in her masculine upper-lip hairiness and voluminous mono-brow.. nice. I have a recurrent joke with a friend of mine who has a ridiculous obsession with female hairy armpits (yep,tells you a lot about a guy..) - which I quite obviously don't agree with. As one of Almodovar's characters in "All About My Mother" would say, 'A woman is more autentic the closer she gets to her ideal of beauty' - ok, this is no condonation for extreme make-overs and plastic surgery (well, whatever floats your boat, really), but I still believe that, despite gender equality on intellectual grounds, a woman is still a woman and should seek to portray a wispy,ethereal image of beauty, grace, class and...HAIRLESSNESS! (whatever it takes) and that TOILET habits should be exclusively left to the privacy of the little girls' room..Like my image conscious beautiful mother would say, "Even after 25 years of marriage!, there is no excuse not to make an effort both for yourself and the one you love" .. Guess I don't really need to make up a list of things that annoy me...'coz there's your answer!!!
Love, from an attempting to be lady-like poorly little lady and feminist in disguise!(",)

'Like My Mama Used to Make It!'

For my British readers, you will have surely recognised by now where the inspiration for this post's title comes from, put on a fony Italo-American accent, drown your four fingers towards your thumb,reached your lips and blown noisy kisses in the air, vigorously begun to gesticulate in uncoordinated patterns and read the sentence again, out loud this time,(possibly even stroke your fake black mustache..) and hopefully chuckled to yourself.. For those overseas, however, 'Like Mama Used to Make It' is the catch-phrase from a series of tv ads for "Dolmio", producers of 'allegedly' Italian style pasta sauces made in Holland and tasting as Italian as sushi is a vegan Moroccan dish! Last night I watched a little bit of "The Goodfellas"with Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Ray Liotta. To much of my amusement, this movie portrayed a lot of, paradoxically realistic idiosyncrasies about the Mafia culture and Italians abroad in general. My friend's dad calls me "the Irish Mob" -'coz I am Italian, bossy, and have a funny distinctive Northern Irish twang in my miscellaneous English accent - go figure! Often people ask me if the mafia is a fictionary concept invented by Marlon Brando and Al Pacino, but it is so not! In as ridiculous as it may sound that one of the G8 nations, world leader for culture and arts (not to mention football) who's forefathers conceived the foundations for most international jiuridical systems, Italy is a country ruled by three legal entities: the Constitution, the Papacy and the Mafia.

"Coffee and Cigarettes, 2003"

In last night's movie, a Jewish American young lady marries a top Irish gang member of the mob (Ray Liotta). She often repeated over the course of the film that even things which should have appalled her, or at least raised her suspicion over her husband's whereabouts, suddenly became 'normal'. Likewise, most Italians stopped raising questions a long time ago and comfortably cohabit with this entangled concoction of legal systems, illegality and chaos..little nothing ever happened. We are just like 'the three wise monkeys': Don't hear, don't speak, don't see! I, on the contrary, could tell you a million and one stories about it. Like when they stole my dad's motorbike and,instead of calling the cops, we called my uncle who called a friend of his who has a friend who knows somebody...long story short: we got the bike back in less than an hour for the modest price of £100. Convenient,ah? Or do you need a ticket for a sold out concert? There is always a friend. Really don't fancy wearing that seatbelt that creases your freshly ironed fake Valentino's? Wear a t-shirt with a seatbelt drawn over it (available in most shops)...and the list could go on and on and on. Mysteriously, it all becomes 'normal' like sipping coffee sitting at the table outside a family run cafe in the piazza, or shopping at the market. I don't condone any of this, but I can see why people find it funny... Here is to the Italians' inventiveness, humor and 'gift of the gab'!