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Dell'esercizio provvisorio del disordine

Loneliness, as temporary operation of the disorder, is one of my indispensable dimension.

All are valid, I owe the people I love and they give me the chance to be alone, to echo in my space suspended in a patient's size, open to tomorrow. This is not a disorder in which "I find it all", that is all too obvious.

This is something more important: a place where I have to build. And in that space I do not want nessun'eco stranger, I do not want background noise. I do not ask more, nothing but my resonance. Burning, is soon to disappear in a fire. Try a little 'you to blow the ash and chase each grain. It takes patience and space to chase, without being necessarily.

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(In risposta a una mia cara amica) Guttenberg e la tesi copiata

My friend and colleague, Eva Valvo, said the case of the German politician, Baron Karl Theodor zu Guttenberg, who has resigned because he was accused of plagiarism in an article that I am pleased to recall here .

Eva and I apologize to my readers if I add all that on it's only as dialectic, and therefore in the shadow of others' thoughts, but I felt that the only way they could reconcile my views in an appropriate and consistent .

share everything and argues that Eve, by which they are picky, inflation: if you get to be in Italy in the section secretaries neighborhood of Lipu with a title such as a doctorate, not because doctorate, but only a lucky - and sometimes studied - coincidence, or PhD would be an alibi to justify a post office.

hand, it must be said that the doctorate, as is done in Italy, has no real reason to be a plus: I'm much more catastrophic, but I'm fine ... accept the usus dicendi of our common friend, Angela, when it repeats that the quality of the PhD is independent of the titration, or even from home, but is in very real terms (the teachers, tutors, educational system, etc..) in which it is condotto.

Un sistema così arbitrario (anche senza scendere nel dettaglio delle sue colpe reali, oggettive e strutturali) non merita obiettivamente nessuna pregiudiziale preferenza. A meno che, è ovvio, non ci sia una pesante autoreferenzialità nel rilascio dei titoli, per cui si premiano coloro a cui si sono rilasciati i titoli più alti (sempre sottoposti, per altro, al veleno dei sospetti, più o meno fondati).

D'altra parte, una società deve avere degli strumenti obiettivi per valutare carriere e valore degli aspiranti scalatori alle sfere più alte della società stessa (in questo, il criterio da macelleria delle mafie è brutale, ma efficientissimo e indiscutibile per trasparenza). The all-Italian conflict is to establish rules for the recognition and repeated disregard for depreciation of a degree in itself is very quick to vanish for a social consciousness around the concept of qualification.

Form ultraspecialisti in a society is ignorant of how to make gold taps in the wilderness, the desert dwellers deserve, like all the best fittings, but the water that you should think about before. What would be really genuinely "political" in which a "politician" should fit with its shiny doctorate?

The summative test ("I also a doctorate," as parallel with any other certificate courses of study and independent from them) in Italy takes place in a cultural journey, or even social, but if there's one thing for sure is that these two ways - cultural and social - do not go hand step and fail to define what I would call mundane preparing to do something.

Finally, congratulations to expect too much with the good Baron Karl Theodor zu Guttenberg, having no acquaintance with all the facts (let alone the hype advertising - public and private - spot), but we can not appreciate human dignity, social and even cultural such an act implies. Excessive or not, the measure gave an address and a specific example of civil society. From this point of view, chapeau, my beloved Germany!

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Noticina serale - ... am Ende der Welt

bounce, bounce, bounce between an image and another.

happens all while driving, suddenly in front of me there are more buildings, but the sky must have slipped from the table of God to the feet of his guests and I spy a piece as if you corrected meeting to strip them all: and I recognize you from heaven to have been a Berlin, Prague, Geneva in Paris without ever being returned.

strange journey, that of those who remain trapped and can not return home, without a place to rediscover life ... is the path of those who tramples on his shadow. Berlin, Berlin, and I would forget the light of the morning of August on Wittenberg Platz that afternoon to Nicolaiviertel that Sunday when I got lost and found myself right where I wanted to go that night in the dark, that night on the bus between the colored signs with two special friends, that way under the infinite intricacies of Alexanderplatz.

I want to go there and give up quell'ammiccante knowing smile, a touch that only what you forgot you ensure its purity. When pleasure was also a desire, when the discovery was all for me and a close hand a way to share and with the certainty of having been there and that nothing, no place will be the same after you're stumbling.

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Il segreto per amare

I loved when I got to know, I loved those shadows through which I saw the light,

when one day a door malchiuso
among the trees of a court
we show the yellow lemons.

I loved when the world was revealed to me the world, when suddenly a word that showed me something and I think I saw my reflection in those syllables.

I loved poetry, my true home were the books, anything I need to sudden energetic, heart-rending as poetry, verses that cry out for not having the , my answer, but I heard my questions very well.

in languages \u200b\u200bother than I loved, I loved that body in French, the English mind, that sly look, that smile in the dark in German and German I've learned to move me.

seems strange stammering as you learn different languages, the self is discovered. But it is this: not enough will scan the range of possibilities for access to the world that look sideways so valuable light on the lemons, their smell, pressure on the skin in his hands.

All that I have not loved is a window on the side vita, la saldatura di brecce. Non credo si possa amare senza scoprirsi - momento per momento - ad amare .