So it's nineleven again. Fifth recurrence of the stupid day terrorism made the rampant globalists ever more arrogant. The day the Global Technological Police State was given its well crafted perfect excuse to take over. Or if you prefer, the day of the greatest defeat ever inflicted to the Islamic world since the foundation of the state of Israel (it's a fact, not a opinion).
Nobody on earth is supposed to ignore this day. I wish so much I could ignore it. Truth is, I can't. Makes my blood boil instead. The lie running naked in the streets and being called truth makes my blood boil, on and again --even if I have been knowing it was a lie for the whole six years (since day one, actually).
The morons repeating it and drumming it carrying around banners made with fake videos and inconsistent evidence and disposed clues and unproved facts make my blood boil. I don't feel as much impotent as I feel discouraged in front of them.

Outside, it is really the end of summer. After a sunny day the evening streets of Milan are definitely busy--like any day of the year (schools opened this week). Maybe it's only because the days are getting so shorter and the pretty windows of the many shops glow brighter along the sidewalks -- the crowd moving in front of them casting more significant clouds of shade and light -- or maybe it's the cooler wind that now and then can be felt. If it wasn't for the propaganda, let alone nineleven from the point of view of Milan man-made end-of-the-world globalwarming wouldn't cross my mind. If anything because nothing like propaganda happens "globally" (in the same way all over the globe).

So it occurs to me this funny thing, that "everything is connected" like every cretin likes to say, only because propaganda connects everything. Otherwise the hell things are all connected, they are not. Our major weakness as individuals is exactly in failing to protect ourselves from forced connections between our lives and others'. To a certain extent, connecting dots and grasping common destinies is emancipation and is knowledge. Beyond that extent anyway it is a curse that instead of uplifting us individuals puts a burden on our back. The burden of remote things whose truthfulness can't be measured and whose reality can't be touched.

I think that the ambition to connect everything comes from a need for rationalization and control of reality that is actually impossible without descending into the pathological. It is a tool used by the gate-keepers to make everyone feel smaller than them.
Meanwhile walking down the streets without feeling that burden, of the remotest connections converging on yourself as terrible persuasion tools, is getting harder and harder by the day. Especially on stupid days like this one.

¹ you can't be away from home without having your falling country still falling in the background. Either this tragic truth comes with you wherever you go or its consequences expect you when you come back.

² whoever you talk to will try to discourage you. Whether they are slow-food-organic farmers, hotel-agriturismo-pensione managers, restaurant-bar tenders or plants nursery technicians they'll tell you how escaping to the countryside won't save you from getting strangled by bureaucracy and the stupidity of the apparatus. All the contrary. And everybody will sing the same song, which goes:
we fight everyday against one hundred seventy thousand laws and rules
we succumb to china because our sclerotic state is a sinking ship of fools

me: "It's amazing how, with the corrupted apparatus of the communist system on its shoulders, the Chinese manages to engage in new industrial or commercial activities better than we do. I guess their average bureaucrat is easier to bribe"
the hotel manager: "On the contrary, I bet they are less corrupted. I believe it's all in the seven thousand people a year they send to death. We should learn from them."
me: "..."
the hotel manager: "don't get me wrong, I believe in democracy. But we just shouldn't misuse it."
me: "right. We really must be going now. Nice hotel and everything."

³ sex in foreign beds can be better, if it keeps the imagination going. Especially when you are charged with the unsound Italian prices (cf. "unsound methods", Heart of darkness). This fuels the customer/whore fantasy when you're still climbing the stairs to your room.