Dumbo, Walt Disney

Why can we no longer fly? We are wearing glasses that turn off the colours. We take them off only just before we go to sleep and then we dream in black and white. We no longer raise our eyes to the sky. When we are walking, we look at the ground so that we can avoid obstacles. Curved in on ourselves. We participate in the old game of a world that is extinguishing itself and whose light that’s as weak as that of a tallow candle, but we think it’s the only possibility and we muddle it up with that of the sun. The rules of the game have been decided by who knows who, who knows when. They are senseless, but out of habit and because of the faff that would be needed to affirm a new way of thinking, that the others wouldn’t understand, we don’t put it forward for discussion. We never come out of the box. Our silences are dictated by the indifference or by a presumed powerlessness. Our world is immobile and we tolerate everything so as not to look at ourselves in the mirror. The fear of discovering we are Mr Hyde, while we believe ourselves to be Dr Jekyll. We are slaves of redundancy, that phenomenon in which the same argument is repeated to infinity by people who don’t realise it. They end up discussing unresolved topics, prey to a magic circle from which they cannot escape. The TV talk shows are an example. They lead nowhere, they brutalize and they standardize the participants causing nausea for the lack of exit routes. Anyone who discusses with an imbecile becomes an imbecile for those observing.
In the sky, clouds rush around, winds from far off lands, places where everything is possible, as it could be here. Why can we no longer fly? Why have we become a flock of sheep who without a shepherd, without a leader, is not capable of finding its own way? The leader thinks for us. We have to think like the leader. A man who is worth one, and sometimes much much less, becomes our master because we decide to have a value of zero. The slave wants a leader. The free man wants the sky. The free man is the leader of himself. The generation that has fucked up Italy has become the leader because of our indolence. It’s necessary to avoid there being successors, other people like Renzi or like Alfano. Is it really true that in our country, people like Galilei, Michelangelo, Leonardo, Fermi, and Marconi were born? It seems impossible that we managed to fly. The History of the world passed by here. Why do we still not believe in it? Why are we not flying? There are always alternatives and the best are the most dangerous, the least conventional. Each person has to accept risk and try and fly in the great blue sky. When all’s said and done, what is there to lose?