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ELUANA goes to die

The only thing we know is that we know nothing. We do not know if we can emerge from a vegetative state to a state, although larval conscience and interaction with the outside world, we do not know if the vegetative state persists in some mysterious sense of self and others, we do not know if in a vegetative state feels, somehow, the pain, obviously not in the terms in which it raises an answer, we do not know if being deprived of nutrition and hydration will procure suffering.
on this not knowing is triggered a debate grotesque and moon, with the learned citations of scientific articles and replies to someone clinics at other times, with the primary structure in which Eluana die on the one hand is defined as "devastated" and by 'Another said with complacency that the girl "has been dead for seventeen years (and then would say to him, What are we to argue, in a coffin and close it seppelliamola!). Apply
, rightly, the precautionary principle on environmental issues (eg on stations for mobile phones), but we apply it on issues of human life and its limits, often simply assumed.
What is this strange and contradictory world, where we say that people in persistent vegetative state does not feel pain, but then you care to establish protocols for sedation, subsequent to the posting of the nasogastric tube.
And as inedible in a soup or a mayonnaise crazy, we put together many things, the right to life to the right to die (which itself does not exist), freedom from care alla sospensione del sostentamento vitale (che pure mi sembra altra cosa), dalle volontà vere a quelle solo presunte, dalla concretezza di una persona e di un corpo all'astrazione di battaglie di "principio", come se il diritto o i diritti possano vivere disincarnati negli atti parlamentari, nelle gazzette ufficiali, nei decreti e nelle sentenze, e valgano nella loro espressione concettuale e simbolica, giusto per arricchire un catalogo tanto pomposo quanto immaginario perché spesso mera proclamazione enfatica di "diritti civili".
Io so soltanto di non sapere; non sapendo non mi riesce di stare da altra parte che da quella della vita, che pure fluisce tenace nel sangue e nel cuore di Eluana, ancora per poco d'accordo, ma non sappiamo even as yet.
Everything else is only for the chatter of the various political and journalistic Vespa, Mentone, Santoro, and their guests.
Of which, frankly, I do not care.

E Coli More Condition_symptoms

IL DIVO between comics EC ABARET

With the usual delay in the temporal dissonance between theatrical release and on television (pay per view), I saw last night, "Il Divo," Sorrentino acclaimed film.

I must say that I enjoyed the film photography, coloristic tones to turn hot in the representation of the court Andreotti, cold and vice versa and sometimes bruising, in its domestic dimension, the surreal scene of the kiss, the contrast between dreams and the sweaty peasant Riina and impenetrable and aseptic "zu" Julius, the final scene, his face mottled and almost petrified accused Andreotti in Palermo, and a few other things.

the remainder of the film is, in my opinion, an unresolved attempt to place the figure of Andreotti in an intermediate representation between "comics" (such as those stories to Italy Enzo Biagi) and raucous comedy of his associates at Evans portrayed as an imbecile but true to the organic Sbardella more whale sharks in the considerable size of the EPA, to Cirino Pomicino, weaver of alliances and recovery of votes but also a bit 'court jester.

The very attempt to represent the loneliness of power Andreotti, knowing more or less painful price paid (in particular the abandonment of Aldo Moro to his fate condemned by the RB), resulting in effects in a predictable allegory of power and icy cold that feeds small rituals (prayer in the church guarded by light, walking in little steps with his hands in his hands behind his back, the lights out obsessively going from room to room of the house of Andreotti, aspirin and painkillers for the city's eternal headache, as the worm of conscience tormented).

It manages a portrait in which Andreotti, rather than the Beelzebub of such publications, the Fox, the keeper of a thousand secrets unparalleled in its archives, it seems a caricature of Oreste Lionello when imitates Andreotti.

It is a shame because Servillo puts all his art to the service is also very good and Sorrentino Anna Bonaiuto in the guise of his wife Livia.

most successful, paradoxically, it is the minor characters, from the crude and peasant Riina, the host of repentant criminals foul and hideous, mocking up the incredible (I confess that I enjoyed), Giancarlo Caselli, represented before entering the scene of the interrogation of Balduccio Di Maggio, and vaporizes a cloud of hairspray on her hair white and swollen (I saw that hair in a visit to Bari, the Committee audiences when the toll was at CSM and I was the secretary of the Judicial Council, and it was a very beautiful and great hair).

But is this enough just to say that "Il Divo" is a landmark film, a test page, a movie worthy of golden palms, bears, david, cubs, Oscar '?

No, frankly, I think little, too little.