non sono io ma è come se lo fossi. ho appena finito un lungo, duro lavoro e ora posso tornare da queste parti. more from me in the near future. grazie davvero per la pazienza, a chi l'ha avuta.
Once again it is manifest that the economic system’s operations must be analysed both historically, as a phase and not the end of history, and realistically, i.e. not in terms of an ideal market equilibrium, but of a built-in mechanism that generates potentially system-changing periodic crises. The present one may be one of these. Once again it is evident that even between major crises, ‘the market’ has no answer to the major problem confronting the twenty-first century: that unlimited and increasingly high-tech economic growth in the pursuit of unsustainable profit produces global wealth, but at the cost of an increasingly dispensable factor of production, human labour, and, one might add, of the globe’s natural resources. Economic and political liberalism, singly or in combination, cannot provide the solution to the problems of the twenty-first century. Once again the time has come to take Marx seriously.
(Eric Hobsbawm, How to Change the World, Little, Brown Books 2011, pp. 418-19. )
…come regalo natalizio per tutti coloro che si ostinano a capitare da queste parti ogni tanto. Loro si chiamano Jack Adaptor, alias Christopher Cordoba (music & words) e Paul Frederick (words & music), sono miei buoni amici e uno dei best kept secrets della capitale. Il pezzo si chiama “Burmah Gold”, dal loro prossimo album ancora inedito; accludo il testo evocativo di Paul, che ha a che vedere con la bulimia energetica dei nostri tempi e le catastrofi ad essa connesse.
Burmah Gold thick fat tyres to run you down and squash you like a beetle a metal grille like teeth to bite and grind you down to bonedust little knowing that the weaknesses are showing now that the pipes are laid the Burmah gold is flowing is there gold in them there hills remains the burning question in vain prospectors chance their luck encamped in tents of skin of stag and buck they don’t notice that it’s snowing now that the pipes are laid the Burmah gold is flowing is there enough to go around can nature make a profit the spills of black gold on the ground are poison pools and no one wants to stop it little knowing with the folds of fortune growing now that the pipes are laid the Burmah gold is flowing the Burmah gold is flowing www.jackadaptor.com
Claude Debussy – Préludes for Piano (Book 1), L 117: VI. Des pas sur la neige (Footsteps in the Snow): Triste et lent
Noriko Ogawa, pianoforte