The ideological barriers have fallen. There are no longer any communists, socialists or fascists. The class battle has also disappeared. All that remains is one class, the one that does whatever it damn well likes and that has now spawned the Party of Love. Not only in the sense of pimps and transvestites, but also Good against Evil and Forgiveness against Hate. An “across the board”, ecumenical party that any citizen “in good standing” can join, especially those that are more successful at tax evasion than others. Lovers do it for passion and never, ever for his/her own benefit, but only for the benefit of others. They pardon the sins of anyone that shows true remorse, whether they be called Tartaglia or Maiolo, but not certain others who also show remorse, like Spatuzza. It may be an inconsistency for the Mafia, but small exceptions can be made if it means avoiding going to prison. Those that love detest disturbing the Soul of the People with Bad News, letting him know that which he already knows in his heart of hearts: Crisis, Unemployment, Poverty. The Bad Words have been eliminated from the Party of Love Dictionary, namely the words that perfectly describe the individual: Mafioso, P2-ist, Whoremonger, Colluder, and Corruptor. He carries around an Abridged Dictionary (the Devout Bondi) and always speaks in the same kind of simple terms that the People understand: "Everything is okay, and if it isn’t, then it’s the fault of the communists". The Party of Love co-opts anyone that wants to participate in the reconstruction of the Country and its current account and loves those that love it: Violante, Casini, Bersani. "Love, and you can do whatever you like!" Who said that? Well, that’s the crux of their Programme: "Love, divide and screw". Hypocrisy is a behaviour that does not belong in true Lovers of Democracy. They have the nipples of Capezzone, the neuron (the only one) of Gasparri, the forked tongue of Cicchitto, the pierced heart of D'Alema and the serene look of Napolitano. Their idea of politics is the Bill, a gentle word that sends them back out all absolved and squeaky-clean. You will never hear a Real Lover utter a violent word, except against those that are violent, sinners against the Justice system and those that stir up the poor. The Martyrs of the Party of Love are those that died on the run, like Craxi, but more often those sentenced while still alive. Just like the Christians of old, they have had their places of passion, namely the Regina Coeli and San Vittore prisons rather than the Coliseum. Sacred Places from which they emerge after their release to face the Paradise of public service jobs and elevation to the briber-taker’s Heaven. If their forerunner Cicciolina loved “cum gaudio”, then these guys screw “cum summo gaudio”. They may never give up (is it in their interest?), but neither will we.