How sad Venice is at the time of Covid, sung by a politically incorrect priest rather than by Charles Aznavour

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"HOW SAD VENICE IS" IN THE TIME OF COVID, SUNG BY A POLITICALLY INCORRECT PRIEST INSTEAD OF CHARLES AZNAVOUR

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Today I'm in the mood for revelations I will reveal to you an arcane: who has read the sickening writings even more than desecrating by de Sade and Apollinaire - and this not so much for literary but psychiatric and demonological interest -, is very clear how certain today's aspirants to politically incorrect are in truth only naive creatures who think they have robbed with the coup of the century the caveau of the Bank of Italy after having stolen only a jar of jam in a hypermarket.

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Author
Ariel S. Levi Gualdo

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Artist's shit, work of art by Piero Manzoni, preserved at the Museo del Novecento in Milan, at the Georges Pompidou Center in Paris and at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. In 2018 one of these cans of shit was sold to 275.000 euro from the Milanese auction house Il Ponte. At this link withAll the artistic explanations with the related psychoanalytic implications are available, socio-political, culture, etc. …

One of the workhorses of the French singer of Armenian origin Charles Aznavour [nato Chahnourh Varinag Aznavourian, Paris 1924 – Mouriès 2018] is the song How sad Venice is:

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"How sad Venice is only a year later / How sad Venice is if you no longer love / We are looking for words that no one will say / And you would like to cry and you can't anymore ".

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Before arriving in Venice used as a paradigm, it is good to explain what is politically incorrect and what is not. Perhaps Piero Manzoni is the author of his Artist's shit still preserved in the Museo del Novecento in Milan, at the Georges Pompidou Center in Paris and at the Museum of Modern Art in New York? Precious and listed work, just think that one of his cans of shit was sold in December of 2018 at the Milanese auction house Il Ponte a 275.000 Euro [cf.. WHO]. And still today the critics explain the meaning of that work assuring with seriousness: «… He is a breaking artist, counter-trend, politically incorrect ... ".

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This would be politically incorrect, a can of shit? Or maybe "Piss Chirst» (piss of Christ), “opera” by Andres Serrano, consisting of a Crucifix immersed in a glass full of his urine? [cf.. WHO]. This would be the much vaunted politically incorrect that produces excitement in the freaks of the Left Radical chic that move between the Parioli penthouse apartments and the villas of Capalbio?

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Today I'm in the mood for revelations I will reveal to you an arcane: who has read the sickening writings even more than desecrating by de Sade and Apollinaire - and this not so much for literary but psychiatric and demonological interest -, is very clear how certain today's aspirants to politically incorrect are in truth only naive creatures who think they have robbed with the coup of the century the caveau of the Bank of Italy after having stolen only a jar of jam in a hypermarket.

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You want to expose certain beginners to politically incorrect or low-grade desecration, like the Crucifix immersed in a glass of "artistic" piss, making them explode instantly out of any logical equilibrium? To do so, this public statement will suffice: "Late in the morning an already drunk black man crossed my street with a red light for pedestrians. Luckily I had quick reflexes and nailed a brake, otherwise I risked knocking a drunk nigger under the wheels ".

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Hearing this the beginners of the politically incorrect, the same ones who defend the artistry of those who have to exercise the free right to put a crucifix to soak in their own piss, they will tear their clothes in front of those who dared to make use of the harmless word "negro", instead of indicating that very tanned person as a "black man". It is one thing in fact to exhibit a Crucifix inside a glass of piss and call everything art with lots of public patronage for the benefit of events and artistic events., It is one thing to call an African black as a coal ember a Negro, because this is not done, it is an unacceptable racist expression! In today's society that considers itself truly civil, a nigga is not a nigga, he's a black man, in the same way that crucified Jesus Christ dipped in a glass of piss is not pathetic cheap desecration, it is art. On the contrary: "Art of breaking", “of transgression”, as the left-wing freak critic would say, obviously, needless to say proud gay declared. And never let anyone respond in kind by saying "... but stop talking nonsense, rather learn to respect others ". In fact, calling an ostentatiously gay art critic who presents you as art a Crucifix soaked in a glass of piss "frocetto", it is such an insult as to require a special law on transomophobia, to be approved quickly and with absolute priority in the middle of the pandemic, while Italian hospitals break out and intensive care is collapsing. Instead, Jesus Christ dipped in piss, is “breaking art” which is not discussed. And anyone who dared to question that work of art will be duly defined as a Cat-fascist bigot, especially by an army of frocetti in the mood for transgressions, which then such not only, first because they didn't invent anything, second why, many centuries ago, in Sodom and Gomorrah they have transgressed much more and much better than them. Of, sweet ignorance of LGBT + who think they have invented transgression! They probably do not even imagine what cities like Corinth were like at the time when the Blessed Apostle Paul preached to its inhabitants. Of, sweet and narrow provincial ignorance ...

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The truth is that the claims Radical chic with their LGBT + friends, with their cans of Artist's Shit and poor Christs soaked in piss and declared "art" by the gay art critic on duty, ready, however, to instantly call the catto-fascist to anyone who dares to dissent, they are politically incorrect and irreverent as an educator who has never seen a man's rod even in a photograph could be, but who claims to be a serial man-spoiler, except to fall into ridicule, because in the concrete facts she is a virgin and even shy. Just as Alberto Moravia plunged into the ridiculous today, than with his miserable work The inner life and the character of his young eager Desideria, irreverent and breaking author could have been right for four high bourgeois sons of fathers who had never read in their tasteless lives the most irreverent and destructive authors of the eighteenth century, convinced that the contempt for all that is pure and sacred was invented in 1978 by a sex addict like Alberto Pincherle known as Moravia, or from that drunkard of Charles Bukowski, for which it is not clear why the Literary Award Cirrhosis of the liver.

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Among these speeches, I am fond of remembering my friend Paolo Poli, that with all his theatrical blatant he used to tell me in a disconsolate tone:

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«I who am a very serious froc, I can't stand these little frocetti of the new generation lacking in seriousness, they are pathetic! True frocism is the stuff of professionals not from … [N.d.A. and at this point in the sentence I have to stop]».

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On the aspirants to the so-called epochal "ruptures" and "desecrations", dear Paolo Poli went on to tell me:

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«… But imagine my darling, certain subjects who think they are irreverent and breaking intellectuals? Oh, how ridiculous! At best they do the bidet three times a day in the holy water pile to purify and cleanse themselves of their little sins ".

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These were for Paolo Poli the intellectuals of the Italian Left and her four upper-middle-class daddy children who played intellectuals and transgressives.

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Clarified what is not politically incorrect, even with the precious help of the memory of my "very cool" friend Paolo Poli, but above all after pointing out how certain village altar boys who serve Mass to a country curate think they are the cardinal deacons who assist the Roman Pontiff during a solemn pontifical at the altar of Confession in the Papal Archbasilica of St. Peter, I who am a great professional in political incorrectness - if you allow even a high political and ecclesial level -, now I will sing to you How sad Venice is at the time of Covid-19. In truth, it was sad even before, but the cow was fat and spread milk, for this no one was aware of his intimate and profound sadness.

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Anyone with common sense is worried because together with the Covid-19 problem, of its waves that do not stop and its variants, there is the no less slight one of the economic situation that involves companies, commercial activities and individual workers. Whole families fear for their subsistence and from March of 2020 they live in situations of great difficulty. Let's not talk about work, of the supplementary coffers joined, not reached or to be reached. Contributions, financing or so-called “refreshments” data or not data, received or not received, joints or to be reached, which in any case will not be able to last forever. It goes without saying that at some point a world-renowned economics specialist such as Mario Draghi was chosen to chair the new “emergency government”. Or maybe we could afford to continue squandering money between scooters, bicycles and grillino income of citizenship with which the amateurs in the fray of the schizophrenic comedian bought votes in the whole of southern Italy, where even the mythological Bulgarian majorities have been surpassed in many constituencies? [cf.. previous article, WHO] Thus, what in the misfortune certainly not desirable and less desirable than ever could be an opportunity for reflection, social maturation and change, it quickly turned into a missed opportunity, mainly because no one, at the head of all politicians and public administrators hungry for votes, is willing to tell the people, or to certain slices or categories of people, some unpleasant truths, exactly what no one wants to hear.

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In various television programs we have repeatedly witnessed the protests of Venetian traders who responded to journalists in the various live televisions: “We can't go on … soon we will be starving … Venice is dying … ». Then followed some screams of anger: “They have forgotten us, they have forgotten us!».

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As an Italian citizen lover of art and pastor in the care of souls, I would like to respond to those Venetian merchants from televised protest that as far as I'm concerned I have not forgotten them at all, indeed I remember them very well, even years later. For example, I remember seeing from semi-open doors or from one and a half meter high windows overlooking the calli of the lagoon city, the interiors of restaurant kitchens, taverns, pizzerias e fast-food of such internal filth as not to be comparable to those of Algeria in the 1950s, which certainly were cleaner. Seeing what there was dirt inside, I even doubted that the rats themselves were reluctant to approach. I also remember having paid in 2001, standing in front of a bar counter, that just to clarify it was not in Piazza San Marco but in a decentralized area, the amount of 11 euro for two cappuccinos and two croissants. But this is not the point, because in Venice we can, indeed we must also concede 11 euro for two cappuccinos and two croissants, clearly specifying that I am talking not about yesterday but twenty years ago, Venice is in fact a unique city in the world, certain amounts he deserves them all, the high prices could even be an excellent deterrent to prevent it from being stormed by numerous hordes of wild tourists, that this delicate city of art cannot withstand. So if you go to Venice you must be ready to spend, otherwise it is good to choose cheaper destinations. But it, Given the above, I continue by saying that only licensed thieves like the Venetians can offer cappuccinos made not with fresh milk but with third quality long-life milk at that price, not to mention the absolutely poor quality of the coffee. We then threw the two croissants in the basket, under the completely indifferent eyes of the bartender, because they weren't just frozen hydrogenated fats, worse: they had been badly defrosted, therefore cooked on the outside but raw on the inside.

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And we want to talk about the shops overflowing with trinkets with managers and clerks of rare rudeness and ignorance, since sure that thousands of people would have left more or less discontented in the evening and thousands more ready to be plucked would have arrived the next day? No, don't be afraid of being forgotten, dear Venetian merchants weeping today, because many will never forget you, many and scattered all over the world. And how could I forget what happened to me in a four-star hotel in 1998, when we were always with the old coin? It happened that in a mid-season period I paid for a single room with breakfast 280.000 read, corresponding according to the rates applied today to approx 650 Euro. When I went to sleep in the evening I found two black hairs in the bed and examining the sheets carefully in the light I noticed some spots on which I fly. I go down to reception where I make my grievances. The manager arrives and tells me without beating her for length: "If our structure does not suit you, it can find a place under some bridges, in Venice there are many!». Before becoming a priest I traveled around the world quite a lot and I can testify that in all the hotels in the Maghreb countries of the nineties no one had ever presented me with a bed made with used sheets and stains on which it is better to overlook. It may happen that by mistake a room has not been redone? Anything inadvertently can happen through unintentional human error, however at that point we apologize and immediately send the maid to make the bed, the client who protests is not invited to go to sleep under a bridge. Understand why I will never forget you, dear Venetian traders today weeping due to the economic crisis due to Covid-19?

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Yet it seems that today we should cry not only for the Venetians but also for the Florentine and Roman traders who have gained weight in the tourist areas of these very popular cities of art, where for years they have offered poor products and a lot of rudeness to customers, certain that thousands would leave in the evening, if anything, most dissatisfied, thousands more ready to be plucked would arrive the next day. Or someone forgets the crazy prices around St. Peter's Square and the Vatican City in 2005 on the occasion of the death of the Supreme Pontiff John Paul II? Other than Venice, in Via della Conciliazione they came to ask 24 euro for two cappuccinos and two croissants. But since they are politically incorrect, but they are serious and as I said at high professional levels, in all tranquility I declare to you that for them I do not intend to cry a tear at all, not even if Gianfranco Vissani, with his air more like that of an old butcher of yesteryear rather than that of an elegant starred chef, goes around the television networks to defend uncritically, between screams and speeches often far-fetched, a category also made up of many people for whom one is not obliged to cry, for example for the army of not a few improvised boarders who have always caused very serious damage to the delicate hotel sector, but above all to that of catering.

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Far from crying for certain restaurateurs or hoteliers in tourist areas where is practiced the “robbery” of the tourist, my tears are reserved for their employees and their families. They are reserved for all those restaurateurs who love their work with passion and who consider Italian cuisine a real culture of our country of arts and talents.. My tears are directed at the cooks and waiters, professionally good and very attached to their work, forced by money-hungry managers and heedless of their customers' health to use third-rate foods that are passed first, presenting as Italian poor meat from dubious farms in the former Eastern countries, frozen fish passed off as a night's catch, porcini mushrooms guaranteed as harvested in the nearby woods by the holy hands of old grandparents and sold for this by weight of gold, but they actually came from crops in Ukraine where they had absorbed radioactive toxic residues [cf.. WHO].

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Let's overlook the food scams, because it would be an encyclopedic theme. How many times in my capacity as a priest have I found myself talking to assistant cooks and waiters who have exposed me their not slight crises of conscience, having to attend all this and more in silence every day, up to leftover food from customers' dishes and recycled in pretentious restaurant kitchens, not in fourth-class taverns? Maybe to Gianfranco Vissani, famous chef and representative of the category, certain questions may have never been asked, while to me, who am a priest, yes, so much so that several times I have been asked: «My job as an assistant cook … of waiter … of dishwasher … I need it to live. However, my salary forces me to see hygienic deficiencies in food preparation every day in the kitchens, regenerated spoiled food, leftovers recycled and then put back on the plates ". As impossible as it may seem, of people who still have a conscience exist. If anything, however, the assistant cook has the conscience, the dishwasher and the waiter, not certain restaurateurs who at the cost of the health of others have to show off a sports car new to the year and who today are clamoring against the government and politicians in front of the cameras because of the crisis generated by the pandemic in progress.

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In Venice it is located in the area of ​​the Punta della Dogana the majestic basilica church of Santa Maria della Salute, erected by the Venetians as a vow made by the citizens to the Virgin Mary to whom the liberation from the plague is attributed 1630-1631. And here it should be remembered that in that as in other eras, Venice was an open-air brothel and a crossroads of all kinds of ill repute. I do not say, it is history that documents it in all its details. Even the ecclesiastical chronicles document it, in addition to the sentences of the ecclesiastical courts, who repeatedly referred to the convents and monasteries of the Venetian nuns "even worse than brothelsAnd advised men of upright morals not to visit certain female religious houses [I refer to this historical article of mine, WHO]. At the time of that plague, however, the Venetians recommended the intercession of the Blessed Virgin to which they later dedicated this church. Today, who they intend to contact? At the refreshments, to European Union funds?

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I think I've shown you enough what is truly and constructively the true politically incorrect. Not a jar of shit passed off as art and not even the poor Crucifix soaked in a glass of piss to represent who knows what. “breaking art” and “art of transgression”. The true politically incorrect is that truth that you do not want to hear and that is why you try to prevent in every way and by any means that can be said, because in the middle there are the votes for the politicians, quiet living for bishops and priests, in addition to an underground economy made up of people who do not want to pay taxes but who want to live well and who, at the first difficulty, begins to curse against the state.

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We are no longer able to ask the Blessed Virgin for intercession and we are no longer able to build them, once the plague has ceased, a new church of Santa Maria della Salute, sign of ours salvation of souls.

 

From the island of Patmos, 28 February 2021

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About Padre Ariel

Ariel S. Levi di Gualdo Presbitero e Teologo ( Click on the name to read all its articles )

12 thoughts on "How sad Venice is at the time of Covid, sung by a politically incorrect priest rather than by Charles Aznavour

  1. Giubileo del 2000, Piazza San Pietro, prezzo di una bottiglietta da mezzo litro di acqua naturale 5 Euro. Me l’ha raccontato mia mamma, recentemente scomparsa, aggiungendo che la bottiglietta era un blocco compatto di ghiaccio, da cui uscivano singole gocce d’acqua.

    1. Confermo tutto!
      E quando feci una sfuriata al gestore di un bar strillandogli se pensava di essere a Dubai, con le bottigliette d’acqua da mezzo litro a 5 Euro, per tutta risposta mi disse:
      «Ma a Dubbai nun c’hanno mica er giubbileo?».
      I replied:
      «No, ma nun c’hanno manco li mortacci tuthe!».
      I add: e sappiamo bene che in quei giorni, a manomettere tutte le fontanelle attorno a San Pietro, dalle quali esce un’acqua fresca molto più buona di quella confezionata nelle bottigliette, furono sicuramente nottetempo questi ladri o chi per loro, affinché pellegrini e turisti assetati fossero obbligati a sottostare a quei furti.

        1. Yes, dovevano essere 5000 read, mia mamma a cui chiedere, unfortunately, non c’è più.

  2. And’ il solito vecchio problema delle città sinistre, cioè quelle che imperterrite continuano a inorgoglirsi del comunismo, convinte di essere la “culture”, il modello da seguire, senza rendersi conto invece di scivolare sempre più in un becero e comico terzomondismo da due soldi, perché mentre loro si beano, le altre città e gli altri paesi si distinguono, adeguandosi sempre più agli standard mondiali, crescendo
    Poveracci.
    Città sinistre come Venezia, Florence, Pisa, nn si rendono davvero conto di avere oramai un gap allucinantel’ultima volta che siamo andati a Pisa e a Siena, tecnicamente due fiori all’occhiello per i turisti, la ristorazione era da piangere, the series “come distruggere l’arte culinaria toscana”. In piazza a Siena decine di ristoranti fotocopia tutti con menù e pizze surgelate, spazzatura servita ad ignari turisti convinti di gustare finalmente la vera cucina italiana. Io che non sono Toscano, I remember, provai una rabbia a vedere questo vile sabotaggio delle nostre tradizioni, avrei invitato quei turisti a casa mia. Ma dove hanno l’orgoglio questi furfanti che riescono oltretutto ad avere misteriosamente le licenze per aprire in pieno centro, a quei prezzi, quella spazzatura?
    A Pisa cercammo disperatamente un ristorante nei dintorni della Torre, trovammo solo una bettola che serviva un orripilante menù, da fugaa Milano in centro e fuori città trovi tutto quello che vuoi. Mesi dopo venimmo a sapere che chiusero per intossicazionee non che Firenze sia messa meglio, anche li sembra di fare un salto negli anni’70ma mi fermo qui

    1. Venezia non è più amministrata dalla sinistra, da quando fu eletto Sindaco Brugnaro, six or seven years ago, for the first time. E poi con grande scorno dei piddini, rieletto l’anno scorso.
      Precisato ciò, non posso che associarmi al suo pensiero. I danni procurati dal sinistrismo sono difficilmente curabili: basti pensare a un famoso ponte per cui venne chiamato un certo archistar.
      A padre Ariel: io vado ancora più indietro, quando penso ai miliardi di alberi pietrificati che giacciono sotto le fondamenta dei palazzi di marmo di questa città, e che i Veneziani hanno tolto ai boschi delle montagne bellunesi, Well, penso che se un giorno Venezia venisse ingoiata dai flutti dell’Adriatico mare, avrebbe solo quello che si merita…. ma questo è davvero un brutto pensiero. In fondo la Serenissima, magari obtorto collo, molto seppe dare al mondo in cultura e supporto alla difesa della Cristianità.
      Le osterie veneziane sono sporche??? Well, pure alcuni locali di Roma….. fuggimmo da un albergo vicino Santa Maria Maggiore, in 1985, che non era certo economico, e ci offriva uno splendido bagno, ricavato in una terrazza chiusa da vetrata. Però i vetri impolverati offrivano una ottima privacy.

  3. Prima di tutto preciso che Gianfranco Vissani e Antonino Cannavacciuolo stanno alla ristorazione come Rocco Siffredi* e Franco Trentalance* stanno ai canti gregoriani dei monaci di Siloe.
    That said: grazie per il suo articolo caro Padre, articolo che racchiude verità dall’inizio alla fine.
    Io sono un cultore della cucina regionale toscana e avevo un ristorante di famiglia in centro a Firenze aperto dai miei nonni nel 1934.
    Dopo che il centro di Firenze è diventato una giungla di fast-food e di ristoranti dove trionfano surgelati e precotti, io ho affittato il fondo commerciale dopo decenni di attività familiare, mi sono ritirato in un paesino di provincia dove ho un piccolo ristorante in cui si fa autentica cucina toscana, e dove si entra solo prenotando una settimana prima.
    A Firenze non ci metto piede (e sono un fiorentino DOC!) e se mi serve qualche cosa o sono necessarie commissioni, chiedo la cortesia ai miei figli di andare loro.
    Le ho mandato in privata-mail il mio indirizzo, mi venga a trovare con gli altri Padri, sarebbe un grande onore per tutta la mia famiglia.

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    * N.d.R. i due Signori citati in apertura dal nostro simpaticissimo Lettore (Siffredi e Trentalance) sono due pornoattori italiani, lo precisiamo perché non è detto che tutti i nostri Lettori li conoscano

    1. Gentilissimo Padre,

      che meraviglioso e realistico articolo! Il vecchio caro pragmatismo di cattolico è insuperabile! E che delizia sentire che era amico di Paolo Poli, un gigante insuperato del teatro, un fine intellettuale e un omosessuale secondo me credente (la sua Santa Rita cosa era se non un atto d’amore per la Santa degli Impossibili?).

      Le sono debitore per il profumato bagno di realismo (i finti artisti dissacranti e i ricchi egualitari “Progressives” a spese altrui) e per i bei ricordi di vera cultura (of, “Le relazioni pericolose”, il vero ‘700, senza orrore finto blasfemo di altri “writers” sgradevolissimi e noiosi).

      Venezia poi, quanta verità nelle sue parole! Purtroppo ciò è accaduto da qualche anno anche nella “our” amatissima Ortigia (sono di Siracusa e ci eravamo già scritti…), con un pullulare di fast food e bugigattoli con chincaglieria davvero brutta. 20 anni fa era tutt’altro vedere: pochi bei negozi di souvenir, bar per cittadini e nn solo per turisti e pochissimi pub generatori di movida alcolica. Ma il richiamo del denaro è stato troppo forte: adesso vedremo chi riaprirà!

      Spero che la Madre di Dio e Santa Lucia veglino su questa bellissima città!
      Regards.
      Gianni

  4. Caro Father,

    io ho vissuto per molti anni a Venezia dove vendevo online vetro di Murano e compravo dagli stessi grossisti da cui compravano il 99% dei negozianti di Venezia. Questi grossisti, che riforniscono tutta Venezia, la prima cosa che ti dicono quando ci vai la prima volta è che è vetro cinese. Ho visto commercianti di negozi strafamosi e con prezzi alle stelle comprare li insieme a me
    Non si è mai chiesto come mai il vetro di Murano non sia DOCG? (Di Origine Certificata Garantita) Simple, perché i veneziani non vogliono, se lo facessero crollerebbe tutto il loro mercato.

  5. Lei ha ragione da vendere Padre, da vendereMi mancano le sue incursioni a “Straight and Reverse”… Siamo proprio nella merda!!!

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