Thursday, October 25, 2018

The right words

Once upon a time the US mission to the United Nation and its desire to eliminate the word “gender” from UN human rights documents.
Once upon a time, indeed, the aim to replace it with “woman”, seemingly a consequence of Trump’s plan to erase transgender lives on earth.
So, once upon a time the right words for the neofascist dictionary.
Where you might say good citizen, you should think about white and rich men.
And where you could imagine a criminal and poor guy, you must see an immigrant or just a man with African origin.
Where you want to figure out a normal family, you have to draw a whole blond group of smiling dad and mom, sons and a black maid, if you need it too.
And where you need to consider a perfect contrary example, you just have to change the color of the skin and the quality of the neighborhood.
Where you'll say peace mission, it will mean war, and while you'll hear screaming war, it will be so, but it will too late for running out of the nightmare.
Because every dictatorship, strong or soft it might be - like today is, it needs leaders and soldiers, but it should
also know how to spread the usual, old and new right words... 

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Thursday, September 13, 2018

Willy Toledo freedom of speech

Once upon a time a man.
Or whoever he might be.
Once upon a time Guillermo Toledo.
Or whatever his name could be.
Once upon a time a Spanish actor.
Or whatever his choice to express life would be.
He has got the natural freedom of speech.
His freedom is ours.
His losing freedom is ours too.
Even if he happens to offend your personal gods, with his maybe too much instinctive words.
Surely he doesn’t deserve to be jailed for that.
Otherwise, if you should be coherent with your beliefs, once upon a time another world.
A place where, considering to be arrested all the ones who daily insult your creator and creations with actions - not just a facebook post, there will be no more space in prison…

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Thursday, June 21, 2018

Trump stops family separation? Children and parents are not bricks

Children and parents are not bricks, like the wall’s ones, that you can pull up and then throw down, and raise again, depending on the umpteenth, delirious tweet of the moment, that you can spit out from your teeth and a moment later attribute to an elusive expiatory spokesperson, justify your word as the always useful misunderstanding. Or, at best, deleting it.

Parents and children are not a group of shares, which you can divide and sell in different markets, and then merge into a new business and if the stock requires to shatter everything and try not to end up in loss.

Children and parents are not those damn weapons, to be religiously disassembled and reassembled, cleaning and oiling the pieces properly.

Parents and children are not even the parts of your perennial presidential campaign monologue, to systematically disunite between them and above all from every sort of context, and then rekindling them in bulk, so that nothing could be understood and the obtuse cry could be heard everywhere.

Children, parents, children, parents, are not the protagonists of a video game, the designated targets, which as digital variables, in the form of sacrificial characters in a populist shooter, you can divide and add up without losing points.

When you remove a son from his mother, if you subtract a daughter from her father, when you break up a family, you can also try to remedy the crime, but the damage remains.

For that you will have to answer, sooner or later.
Better the sooner, though…

Read also today Storie and News

Friday, June 8, 2018

WW1 Centenary 2018 story

Dear ancestors,

These lyrics are for you, that in two dissimilar lands refreshed, detached by a sea whose waters turn out to be each day more and more confused.
In life you have never encountered, and thanks to the freedom of a sheet and particularly the occasion to write on it - which we should continuously be thankful of, I see you joined, maybe standing in a normal living room, animated by the feeling of the instant and from the unavoidable amount of reminiscences to be traded.
Between the many, the one that happened precisely in July 1914, only to end, for favorable luck of all the characters, just over four years after…

From Storie and News

Friday, June 1, 2018

Human Rights Stories of immigrants and faith

Thanks to a disturbingly eventuality the most racist governments on the issue of migration used to proclaim themselves as the most spiritual ones, including the new Italy administration.
A few days ago, I came in the Sanctuary of Rivotorto, in Umbria, and inside the so-called Hovel of Saint Francis of Assisi, even though knowing it, I read the Canticle of the Creatures, but with my actual eyes.
I am not a faith man, I tell you, but those arguments seemed to me further blessed, when modified to the necessities of the many mortified human creatures…

From Storie and News

Friday, May 25, 2018

Human rights stories from Haiti

Lovely Earth, I imagine to write you from Jalousie, Haitian slums.
Outside the limits of world’s insanity, we’re living by aptitude, we endure by need.
We create real tales, for the sake of those looking for us, on the skyline that will have the blessing to appreciate the next dawn.
After the quake, after the wicked look that the unpleasant dice called destiny presented us, we are here, well joined.
Therefore, while in your nations your leaders aren’t able to decide on the authority increased over hate and dishonesties, we attempt to study how to change the rules.
When it will occur, because it will do, don’t recognize us.
Give us comfort now…

From Storie and News

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Human Rights Stories about Syria

The much exploited childish candor, unsuited to deal with the complexity of the global tangle of interests and power.
Otherwise, by facilitating the immature objection, you may find yourself in highly prohibited areas by government syntax.
Asking who manufactures chemical weapons and who finances them, who sells them and who protects their trade, who legislates in favour or just abstains hand and conscience.
This would lead to an unacceptable scenario for regime screenwriters.
The one based on the idea that things are much easier to understand than they seem.

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Sunday, April 1, 2018

Human Righs Stories of Solidarity

Once upon a time there was a law.
An equal for all one, otherwise what are we talking about?
Yes, what, I've been wondering that for some time.
The law for all was simple: giving support to a criminal represents an equally prohibited act.
Therefore, I understand the burdens of a pious heart, brother, and I am aware of the uncomfortable symptoms of the good-natured virus, sister. Setting aside for a moment the famous dictates of the philosopher Agostino,
deservedly practiced by Martin Luther King, about nobility of disobedience to a norm considered inhuman, where you find yourself foraging someone, always remember to check his criminal fed. Note to listening Christians: see it as a sort of unavoidable amendment to the famous, evangelical Works of mercy, on quenching and feeding the derelicts.
For all the others, just remember that, period.

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Saturday, March 31, 2018

Human Rights Stories about poor and rich

Let's face it frankly, okay?
Inequality was a state of affairs.
It was persecuted, sought with enthusiasm and commitment, I would say with extreme dedication.
Then, to be defended at all costs, as could be done with civil rights or democracy, in a naive story of romantic visions.
As proof of that, the most portentous claim didn’t concern the real distribution of fortunes, more or less lawfully earned, but the nature of the present and the future which the various citizens chose to commit their time for.

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Friday, March 30, 2018

Human Rights Stories of modern slaves

Once upon a time there was a house as big as the world is.
Like any self-respecting home, worthy of a prime time spot, or a smiling box office movie, it was made up of rooms.
The rooms, despite someone is still claiming for the contrary, were inhabited by occupants of a purely transitory nature, like the clouds that sometimes cover the sky. You can easily see that the drawings are never the same and those who say otherwise are blind, or want to blind others.
In one room, the inhabitants from the terminal
Photo by National Crime Agency
eternity nourished the fruits of the earth, of every form and color, declared taste or temporally fashion, vegetable or animal conception without any solution of continuity.

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Thursday, March 29, 2018

Human Rights Stories about Apartheid

I’m talking to you, my friend, that present time's law murders with deafening ease, and modern chronicle’s silence humiliates to the most obstinate recess of your soul.
Exult, since the unjust hourglass has a heart.
A slow and awkward one, but it beats.
Incredible in its pervading obsession in moving from the most servile side of the balance, the one where unqualified it polishes the golden wheels of the triumphal chariot.
Despite that, it has a logic, from this day.

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