Rubbia, "The future is nuclear error in the sun" - the republic, it
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Doctor Inspects Privates
year of celebration we can go, in fact, to celebrate, we can pass it, too, to denigrate. To say that the Savoy family who made the country, or to say no, the House of Bourbon is a paradise lost.
We can tell only the massacre of Bronte wanted by Nino Bixio, or just the overwhelming idealism of the dead boys a little more than two decades for the idea of \u200b\u200ba united Italy. can whip in the face of all our many differences, find all the reasons we want separation and resentment in our national history (as in that of any other nation, however) does not bring about.
We can blame lack of patriotism from those who do not feel represented celebration, we can get out of the regional councils when he plays me laugh, we can display the flag of the window.
We can do many things, and all have their reasons and their causes.
But I personally in a sea of \u200b\u200bdoubt and uncertainty are arcisicura only one thing: that history is not coming back.
historical injustices and sins and traumas and wounds and also triumphs can not be undone, we can only draw. We can blame lack of patriotism from those who do not feel represented celebration, we can get out of the regional councils when he plays me laugh, we can display the flag of the window.
We can do many things, and all have their reasons and their causes.
But I personally in a sea of \u200b\u200bdoubt and uncertainty are arcisicura only one thing: that history is not coming back.
And the only way to process the past and tell, raccontarselo all, without fear of the truth. \u0026lt;/ p>
Only a process of recovery of the truth of the past can imagine the future to build.
Del Risorgimento, but also the first world war, fascism, the second World War, the years of lead ...
Of the causes of our muddy this short. Muddy because this essential work is still so incomplete.
the birthday party of my country wants it this way: a hearth around which the Italians sit in a circle and each person, listening by others, tells his little piece of history - History.
Utopia?
Uhm, I guess so.
But passatemelo: the first cut the birthday cake has the right to express any desire, however unlikely and risky.
Happy birthday, my Italy.
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