Wednesday, March 10, 2010

To My Daily Virgin Brides

Just can't stop loving you

Good evening reader, guess what? This is not Leonardo writing. This is Silvio. Yes, that Silvio.
I know, you can't believe it. “How could mr. Berlusconi got to accede to leonardo.blogspot.com...”, Well, face it: I can have access to every single Italian media, just because I am Berlusconi. I have my networks, my newspapers. I control the State broadcasting company. And I have Leonardo's password. Probably I have your password too, but writing on your blog is not so funny. Neither Leonardo is, I mean, I usually don't write on stuff like that. Sometimes at night I just sneak in the written posts, putting a mistake here, placing a wrong emphasis there; that's better than sex. Almost.

But tonight I want to post something serious because I love you, dear readers of Leonardo: I really do, and I want you to understand what it is happening. I am a little surprised by your reaction to my last decree. Seems like I made a golpe, kind of. Well, of course I made one. Everbody knows that. It was twenty years ago, more or less. Do you need a resumé? I took a dominant position in the broadcasting system and in the advertising market, then, I created a political party; I used newspaper and television to become more and more popoular. That was illegal even in Italy, so I bribed everyone I could. I have practiced countless abuses, and yet all this seems to be disappearing in one week, compared to the crime that I committed, issuing ...hard to believe but true ... an implementing decree. That's a golpe!

I mean, are you serious?
Do you realize that I have been screwing you up for years, and will keep on 'till the end? I have stolen your airwaves, your imagination, I took your dreams and I've filled them up with silicone implants (just 'cause I like'em). Your newspapers, your paperbacks, your schools, your football teams! I have sucked your soul! And I'm still sucking, 'cause it's fun! But you complain because my shoes don't fit in with my tie. And you're the smart ones, yeah, sure.

Now, what happened? My guys in Milan and Rome are morons. I know. I deal with morons, always did, that's my job. They fucked up all the bureaucracy stuff, signatures, stamps, things like that... and so my Party (the Freedom People Party) would not have been suitable to run the local election. That means my people would not have the right to vote for me. And the Democratic Party would win without competitor. Could I let it happen? Obviously not. So I've made this little decree, but, seriously, do you think that I made it because I don't want to lose? Me? Lose what? Some mid-term local elections? Hey, I am Silvio Berlusconi, do you remember? The boss of AC Milan. I've put together five European and three World Soccer Finals, do you really think I am interested in winning a local match? I couldn't care less about these elections, believe me. Want you to know the truth? I'm supporting the Democrats. Yes, I hope that Pierluigi Bersani will make a good score.

He's a good guy, Pierluigi, we are both Libra... and we have some mutual interests this time. He has to show that he can steer the Raft of the Medusa, I mean, the Democratic Party (it is clear that I wouldn't let him rule anything if he was a real danger to me, right?) For what concerns me, I have to purge my dirty-brand new-party and burn some ground around my dear old ally Gianfranco Fini.  So, do you really think I care about Mrs Polverini, “my” candidate in Lazio? Yeah, I mean, she comes from the Unions, she stays with Fini, and she's not even good looking – do you really think I could care about her?  Look, If I could I would even help Mr Penati, the Democratic candidate in Lombardy, though it's really hard to win something in Milan against my “friends” of the CL catholic mafia. But should Formigoni (the CL boss) fall, do you think I would spend a single tear? Those caths are crazy. They still don't understand who's the boss (me). They really believe they could do it without me at any moment – they have their bishops, their contacts, their syndicate... If I could help Penati to beat them, you think I would not?  But I must play with discretion. I've done my best.

What, you're asking, what have I done for Penati ...Really, come on. He was out, and I put him back in the race. Now he has the chance to win, if you're so pissed off with me to vote for him.  But do you think he could win without a competitor? You can't do this in politics, trust me. Do you understand how Italy works? Let me explain to you.  There are twenty regions. The presidents of the regions have some power, well, honestly they can have a lot of power – but only if they agree with the Presidents of inner districts. And with the mayors of the big towns. Otherwise their destiny is to stay in their presidential office and watch the sunset for five years. Now imagine: Formigoni can not be voted, Penati “wins”. Then, he decides to build up something, I don't know, an airport, a new railway system, anything. He has to speak with the Presidents of the ten Provinces – they're my guys. And they've been elected by the people of Lombardy, not by some judge sitting in his office, checking signatures and stamps. He needs to co-operate with the mayor of Milan. She's one of my guys, too. So what do you want to do, President Penati? Who do you want to talk to? Just bring your presidental ass to lay cheerfully on the Pirelli Building Presidential Armchair, ok?

Now, do not think that I do not understand what you're saying about laws and procedures, I mean, I know, they're sooo important. Democracy can't work without that stuff, I agree. Except we're not in a democracy, we're in Italy, and you should know that. If you leave Penati for five years on a useless armchair, he will get depressed, and you too. And I can't afford that, because I need you. I need a nimble enemy that sometimes threatens to win some serious election – well, not so serious, in facts you're voting for the City Council of Abbiategrasso. (But what can I do if my little trophy girls prefer the European Parlament in Brussels?) However, I can't be the one who always win. That would bore my voters.  I need to wave the Red Peril occasionally. Do I have to explain it? Apparently yes.

So just imagine what could have been the situation without my decree. You would get your Pyrrhic victory. My men would have started yelling in all newspapers and TV news against your golpe, 'cause it would have been you to win without a fair election. You would have forbidden the Free People to vote its favourite Party just because of a wrong stamp on a wrong sign... Two hours after the victory, you would be already depressed. Why? Because you've been telling everyone for years that you've been living in a regime. Every day you woke up with that word, regime!, Regime!, Regime! Very good. And then you would have to explain to the French or the Germans what kind of regime is, the one where you can win the elections against the dictator! Because some judges prevented him for running! For a matter of... signatures and stamps. Do you realize it? Without this decree, you would be left without arguments! And you still complain.

You think I am playing tricks? You do not even know ...You believe that your men are clean? Pierluigi? Di Pietro? Listen, you really have no idea. It seems that our signatures were certified before the list was closed. Well, that's really a huge scandal! You know, if I really wanted to play tricks, I would have let you run without competitor. I would have let you win. And then I would have appealed. In Milan. In Rome. Everywhere: Let's go and see if all of your lists have the right stamps with the right date, come on. Take a look on Mr Di Pietro's lists, sure that there would be fun. Hey, by the way, do you know Mr Errani, the Democratic candidate in Emilia? He has a lot of chances to win - too bad it would be his third term, I mean, it's illegal... Shouldn't I appeal? And the Radicals, how smart are they? Don't you understand they know exactly each and every dot and comma of the law because they're so fucking busy breaking them? And then they give lessons, well, I've taken their lesson, thank you Mrs “Civil Disobedience” Bonino. This time it's me who plays the disobedient, why not? I am the tyrant, after all. That's what everybody says. So the least I could do is stretching the laws as I like. You don't like it? You don't like me? Rebel, react, overthrow me. You have a thousand reasons, just, please, don't bother about some stamps. Pinochet was not overthrown because he was using the wrong stamp.

I know that you would never really throw me off. Because you're just nice kittens, you know, sharpening claws on the Constitution Tables. The way you love that stones, oh, it always amazes me. I could come and fuck your children, you would complain because I've made it with the wrong stamp. Then I would come back and screw your dog, and you would raise a march to Rome because I've signed it the wrong way. And you I think I am the Italian anomaly. Me. I'm the one who gives meaning to your life, that's it. Now relax, everything's ok. I've made a very bad decree, and you can join a group, the anti-very-bad-decree group on facebook . If the sun shows off you may as well march into the streets, and demonstrate. Against me?  No, against the Old Man on the hill, President Napolitano. The man who has to sign every law, unless it's manifestly unconstitutional... come on, you're adorable. I've made a decree to give my people the right to vote, he simply could not refuse to sign. He's the Old Man on the Hill, he's not a judge, did you ever understand this? Of course there will be a judge in Rome who will find some bullshit in my decree. Of course then I will shout to my people that this is a judges' plot against me.  The fact is that all this has happened so many times before, that you should already know it by heart. And yet, every time, every single time I screw you, you act like it's the first time.

And maybe that's why I love you, I mean, that's why I just cannot stop loving you. First night after first night.
Thanks for your attention,
Sincerely yours,
SB.

(Italian version).

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