Fabrizio Ulivieri - TrendSetter

Ea quae propinquitate et contactu agunt, per accidens propinquitate utuntur  Those things which act by nearness and by contact per accidens make use of proximity . Why crescent nature never grows alone? Thews and bulk make the temple hollow groan. The inward service of mind and soul Doth, within, besmirch and tardy mar. Stain the will must fear and strive to bar. Under its yoke subject is birth Choice depends and life and death Safety and health voice and yielding will. Where the stain hath put the head Therein is where the doom hath bled.

  In the pagan sensibility of Salomėja Nėris, whom we discussed here a few days ago, there is a theme that recurs like a nightmare: “One day I won’t be here.” The obsession with dying. This excruciating poem is one of many examples. Manęs dar nebuvo - Alyvos žydėjo - - Manęs nebebus jau - Jos vėliai žydės - Ir kris jų lapeliai Nuo saulės ir vėjo, Kaip smėlio saujelės, Ant mano širdies - No, I wasn't there when the lilac bloomed No, no sign of me will be there when it again will bloom and the little leaves will fall of sun and wind they will die and handfuls of sand will fall on my chest

  Pasolini wrote this poem (MORTE DI UN FANCIULLO - Death of a child) when he was very young and lived in Casarsa. He wrote it remembering the death of a child. Reading the poem, where some of Pasolini's stylistic elements are already recognizable (the forms in -uccio, -cello, -cino  for example, and some words such as " antico "," beato " to which he later preferred " santo "...) it is immediately strong and immediately catches the eye as only poetry can and puts human beings on the road to find a way to express what is almost inexpressible and ungraspable due to its depth.  Poetry is the only means available to human beings to give substance to the tearing apart of suffering we suffer or to the exaltation of an unexpected joy that occurs inside. The child has died but the world goes on and the poet thus expresses the almost-nothing of the human being with respect to the creation. Only the moon seems to notice its absence Ma questa sera la lontana lun...

...there have always been superelites with a special role to play...(David J. Rothkopf) What is beyond that window, beyond that rain? She levelly asked me. Fear. I responded. For what? she answered. For life. The life that could have been, but it is not. It has been designed a life that from the beginning runs between hatred and hope to be redeemed. And this is the most absurd thing we experience every day. We have been created as a resource for the elites, you know, this is the truth, but we aspire to something greater, this is the truth because inside us there are the same genes of our creators. I watched her. I realized she was confused. She was in a state of cognitive dissonance. Let's take into account what is happening beyond that window. Can you believe that this is a pandemic? Isn't it? She interposed. There are many reasons to doubt it. Too many. First of all, it is not so lethal. No more than normal influenza. It kills the elderly, mostly. Why? She aske...

SARS is the story of not one epidemic but two, and the second epidemic, the one that has largely escaped the headlines, has implications that are far greater than the disease itself. That is because it is not the viral epidemic but rather an "information epidemic" that has transformed SARS, or severe acute respiratory syndrome, from a bungled Chinese regional health crisis into a global economic and social debacle. (David J. Rothkopf) Your parents died well. They cannot complain, they ended well. They had money, a lot of badanti taking care of them, you and your brother. They had all. Don't be sad. You did all you could. She stared at me, through her half closed eyes. She paused. I breathed. Here in Lithuania - she went on - they could be considered rich people. Many elderly in Lithuania struggle with poverty, solitude and depression...that was not the case with your parents. But they saved the money, they deserved it - I replied. Of course - she said - of cour...

Mishima was obsessed for his entire life (or almost) by the re-gaining the values (ideologies) of a valuable life that has to be lived under the tension of art reinforced by the erotism of death. The vision of his contemporary Japan was devastating to him. A land deserted by real values, whose DEATH undoubtedly was the highest (and probably unique) value (ideology) for Male-kind. an age in which everything is based on the premise that it is best to live as long as possible. The average life span has become the longest in history, and a monotonous plan for humanity unfolds before us. He cannot shun art as he cannot shun death since the life of an artist is subdued to death. The occupation of the Samurai is death...death is the Samurai’s supreme motivation, and if a Samurai should fear or shun death, in that instant he would cease to be a Samurai. Life doesn't allow to be caught off-guard. It doesn't allow laxity, because this would mean to resign his claim ...