LETTERS TO THE PAST

LETTERS TO THE PAST

In a week it will be Christmas, but what Christmas will it be?

This thought carries the nostalgia of memories that flow as if in slow motion.

If I could write a letter to me from 1979 I would tell myself to be overjoyed because the coming years will be an explosion of life, colors, sounds, emotions.
And I would tell myself to learn The logical song well, because one day unfortunately the meaning will appear in all its clarity.

If I could write a letter to me in 1989, I would tell myself that that was the first of thirty-two years of work that I will like but that I have to follow the desire to study and expect more for myself.
And I would tell myself to fight so that, just like in Berlin, all the walls are torn down.

If I could write a letter to me from 1999 I would tell myself that this whole idea of the 2000s is just a big soap bubble and that the upcoming future is wearing a mask that hides the regress.
And I would tell myself that there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path

If I could write a letter to me from 2009 I would tell myself that the crisis is not about to end and to be prepared to experience the recession.
And I would tell myself that The Resistance  isn’t just the best rock album.

If I could write a letter to me in 2019, I would tell myself to live every single minute with the awareness of the enormous value of simple moments that, however trivial, will change.
And I would tell myself that things are about to happen that I would never have believed.

But the worst fires burn intangible realities.

ON-BOARD DIARY FROM THE RED ZONE LOCKDOWN DAY 1

ON-BOARD DIARY FROM THE RED ZONE LOCKDOWN DAY 1

The sensation that is perceived is perhaps comparable to when you are in the last cone of light before entering the tunnel.

The lighting inside is annoying because there are no lights but intermittent glare.

The main feature is in fact these regular intervals, with almost telegraphic interruptions, at the end of which the monotone litany of any type of communication or information on the TV resumes.

I don’t know about you, but I have begun to hate some words that are adopted as mantras.

And instead of rainbows now only dividing colors remain: the colors of zones.

Personally I feel the need for my refuge: music and therefore I would say that the perfect song for today is The Resistance by Muse.

Starting from the cover, which to stay on the subject of colors, represents them in a psychedelic vision.
It is no coincidence that it was judged the best of the year 2009.

To continue with the multiple meanings contained in words, texts, metaphors, such as the fact that The Resistance represents a reference to 1984 by George Orwell, which Matthew Bellamy was inspired by.

 

The passage that directly quotes Eurasia is another, but in reality The Resistance itself evokes a lot of Winston and Julia forced into hiding so as not to be discovered by the Party.

Returning to United States of Eurasia instead, for many it represents plagiarism rather than a quote from Bohemian Rapsody, what do you think?

Also according to the detractors, who do not even like the ghost track Collateral Damage with the sonata Notturno n. 9 by Chopin, the influences that are heard are many and referable to a sort of musical pot pourri.

Did you notice them on first listen?
What impressions does this Muse work leave you?
Do you find the atmosphere of 1984?

Although it is a classic, I, as usual, have read it very late, that is “ahead in the years” and therefore it may be that my way of perceiving it has been influenced.

1984, as is known, is obtained by inverting the digits of the year in which it was written: 1948.

A curious coincidence: 1984 was an important year in my life, a year of change, a year of which I remember much more than other particular memories and I keep memories.

On the other hand, I am not as inclined to identify the current context with as much affection.
The downward curve towards the points where Orwell’s dystopian vision aligns with reality is accentuated more and more evidently.

A bit like the famous ball on the inclined plane, although I would like to continue to hope for a decline, albeit sadly obvious, at least not as accelerated and irreversible because, to return to The Resistance:
If we live our life in fear” …

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