Saturday, August 29, 2009

Coopers Home Brew Yeast

Back to business

The Stepford news reopens today after a long summer break. Due to the crisis? Maybe. The crisis of conscience for sure. My conscience, of course. I see it around a few others.
I was not surprised to see Mr. B. more than ever glued to his chair after all the revelations of sex that we have been forced to read in the summer. No citizen of any country in the world deserves a head of government who humiliates him by requiring the public agenda their whims and interests and which remains in the saddle after submitting . But that remained on horseback in a country like ours was to be expected. I mean, not us we have a true democracy.
At this point, though, I angered the stubborn - and concerned - loyalty of his followers, the stubborn - and, again, concerned - indifference of much of the media, and the liability of those who - like me - are angry but they never do anything. Because we make it slip on me? Why do we become so complicated?
The profession I chose, in a country like Italy, honors the timid and conformist. Conformist I am with some difficulty, I'm almost always timid. And how can I not be afraid when I see some print regime to respond with beating blood work - perhaps not always flawless, but certainly legitimate - of journalists from all over?
Everyone keeps most remote in the drawer of his soul stories they want to keep for himself . Not always - thankfully - it contains "crime reports" (nothing criminal offense, in short). But just because none of us is an immaculate saint is easy to silence someone in the face upon application brutally episodes - more or less serious - of which we have become the protagonist in the past. Easy, well, not the merits, sparigliare cards, cover up the events most uncomfortable. Series: "Close the beak, you should not make noise ".
The director of "Il Giornale" and his deputy to "Free" are doing a great job. From the perspective of those who want to hide too much material evidence of the "boss" and erase the traces of his "Mess on," is clear.
But that sucks, though. Yuck.
In what kind of place we live?

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