Monday, February 7, 2011

Manual Versus Electric Pump

Where it all begins

'm on yet another train that takes me in Milan, but now more for pleasure than for duty. I'm going to present the book of Martha Zacchigna "Milano to bare "and this reassures me a lot, and because the author is a friend of mine, both because it gives me the opportunity to live Trenitalia as a free choice and not as an imposition. Before leaving I stopped at newsstands, so to buy some newspapers to browse casually in the face to all those who work sitting in front of me. Of course there is always a kiosk station monstrous row, so I am stepping stone religiously waiting for my turn. And then my gaze wanders among the magazines on display here and there. Barbapapa I see the album with various gadgets attached, see the papers of hunting and fishing alongside those for animal lovers (which seems quite a contradiction), then I stop softened sui periodici per teenagers. Avevo già fatto outing a suo tempo parlandovi delle mie letture adolescenziali all'uscita dalla chiesa (vedi: trattato su Cioè, nel post " Una bella gnocca sul calendario "), per cui capirete che per me, vedere esposti tutti i giornaletti che mi ricordano quanto ero felice e spensierata più di vent'anni fa, mi commuove come la fine del film di Forrest Gump. Noto subito che, accanto allo storico Cioè, sono fiorite negli anni decine di riviste parallele, segno che il segmento tira molto. Fra queste, compare Ragazze (o Ragazza, non ricordo bene), che in copertina ci offre un sunto di quello che troveremo all'interno: c'è l'immancabile test ("Arrossisci o fai arrossire?"), the inevitable freak who can not sing or dance or act, but it is so beautiful, the inevitable articles on the difficult tasks that life requires us to (know how to do hair, how to conquer the classmate, make-up in the elevator without be discovered by her mother) and, finally, a serious warning to all readers, about Sexting. It seems really disturbing. I read the two lines below (the line is still on sale because the old lady in front of Italian cuisine is paying a cent coins): "Note that your risque photos are available to everyone!" OMMIODDIO! But it is terrible! - I think now with a vague sense of unease - now who said to my father? And my mother? Will still speak to me? And you, regular readers of this blog, you will have the same esteem for me, if you've ever had, after seeing my photos risque?
Luckily my apocalyptic frenzy lasts a few seconds. Which photos? The only date back to when I'm naked a couple of baths that I made innocently and in 1975 when I was too small to demand the rights to my parents. I was forced. I did not want (that picture I was in tears). I calm down. I look again at that magazine. It really looks like a serious problem. And indeed it is, because it is assumed that all the young readers of that magazine have risqué photos. That is, it is normal to have. And as is normal, then they put you warning of the dangers of their distribution. So I wonder, dear, old, modest, naive readers, did you know that you pre-teens today, just have a cell phone in hand or a digital camera, the first thing they do is recoil in risqué poses? I now know, and are also more aware of how, at some point, we gathered to organize events for the dignity of women. The old woman comes from newsstand, I buy the "Republic" which at this point, I think the sequel to "Girls".

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