Ferrara reminds me of a beautiful Baroque city, the cradle Metaphysics (well before De Chirico, Carrà, Sironi and fellow soldiers hospitalized: Cosme Tura and Ercole de 'Roberti enough) and Surrealism (Tasso and Ariosto enough), where you can eat divinely (sweet pie crust, salama da sugo, hats) ... Scalfari me sounds like an insult, assonant a mask. No good ...
Dream (and I'm working on) an old age in the light of wisdom, serene, detached, aware, contemplative, content, and the continent, dedicated to young people (helping the deserving and enjoying their success). Scalfari is the proof that the "libido senile" is not that thing there, but the grotesque and the pathetic want to demonstrate "power" at all costs: megalomania, infallibility, hatred of the "new" and young people. Senile anger of those who know that the hourglass is emptying out, but look elsewhere and s'accanisce against those who have the full hourglass. And even quiver. What a horrible way to age.
Picasso his libido senile he vented in a creative whirlwind unprecedented. De Chirico, chasing his past. Beethoven celebrating the silence and the darkness ... Rembrandt Eugenio Scalfari celebrating its pathetically obvious powerlessness and rage. For this is not a great one.
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