After the third goal of the Slovak Republic the idea of \u200b\u200blaunching the TV out the window no longer so distant. And what the hell, at least a little 'dignity for god! Sorry for the outburst. No, no excuses. The fact is that I have seen too many Italy at Usa94 from now to hope for a sudden change of course ready to lead in a burst of courage and good game. The comeback will be there, and this sad truth is surrendered immediately. As for MrHare, well, I do not know if his resignation is born from my own assessment is dictated only by the evidence or historical facts, but he is certainly not to expect surprises.
Again therefore Italy is out of the ball speed that matters, as in England to european '96, although there we had eliminated Germany (gloss over the severity of Zola, please), not the fucking Slovakia, as in Portugal in 2004 in which we fully deserved the biscuits Denmark-Sweden, more than an apology (apparently gravity Vieri was worth double for that year), and finally as two years ago did not even remember where you think about it are so many places where we went to catch fish in the face that I can remember me all mica.
So since we no longer have a reason to celebrate will find other and then we turn our gaze to the immediate future, just as the national team. A newspaper a few days ago there has in fact brought to the event tonight. Four words in particular we were impressed: Carbonera (village or town or something somewhere around Treviso, then Google Maps will help us understand better), Marta sui Tubi, Zen Circus, free. So we finished the havoc football Slide a few minutes to a quick shower, a beer of encouragement, understanding who is and who is not in the car and we are beautiful as always. A mechanism of choice by the name of Random algorithm, patented by MrHare handled with disarming nonchalance, he decided that I should have to drive tonight, but I suspect that that is anything but random gimmick I've got a long time.
reach with some difficulty physiological the location shown in the newspaper, that Carboera, a place where we get a nasty surprise: no sign, no stage set, no crowds or spilling beer in the wild. Nothing at all in fact, damn it.
However, this minor inconvenience can not in any way to diminish our armor of enthusiasm, not the national football team we are, we have determination to sell. We find a very small group of boys ski slopes, cool or if you prefer, in shorts and flip-flops in order for any self-respecting good Truzzi perched around the table of the central bar. MrHare who knows a package of communication and language is always chosen by the final algorithm Reason to go and ask some questions about the technical problem capitatoci. The good old fellow sufferers back beaming, informs me of the latest developments of the situation and immediately leave again just as vigorous in search of a place corresponding to the name of Vasconcelos, village of Carbonera. A few miles and we are definitely lost in the midst of lush fields in the countryside to the north-west Treviso. Everything we see on the street is a sign placed on a fence in the middle of an intersection, which informs us of a race that will rally soon. This, believe me, it comforts us all.
While I consider that very often lost to those who sail in sight along the roads of rock, and it is essential to understand the poetry and understand fully the beauty, I decide that it is equally important to persevere in following the instinct, so take the first Output that appears before me in this fucking tiny roundabout and lost in the middle of nowhere where we are, grintosissima engages the third of my curse ceases Pedals (yes, I gave my car a name, so what I do not own dogs or cat on which the vent), lunge and Gas roaring back on track, albeit with the same plaintive certainties. We continue along endless fields so slender and wiry with long narrow head in one name: Vasconcelos. Right now I'm calm, I know that somehow we will arrive at your destination, was the first good thing I do for months now, because we lack the will as well as gas in the engine. The only tiny shadow that threatens our smile is due to the beer that is about to end.
Life often poses difficult challenges.
infinite past second and decidedly few miles when suddenly, around a bend just seems like all the others, there appears in the distance a high, pointed steeple. Now, if you already know Veneto what this means, if you're not when you consider that you are lost in the vast eastern Po Valley in search of any form of civilization, a tower of a church has the same visual impact of a giant flag wrote "Earth" after months at sea without a compass. In fact, once the road reaches the base of the tower in question, there appear a series of white tents arranged next to one another that makes us think they have once again achieved the goal we set ourselves. We find the closest parking possible, as the figure of the rocker and sport are not historically consistent, we reach the square sheeted the festival, we approach the first cashier there and do what any streetwise music fan would do before the beginning of a concert: the key focus.
"Sorry, we need a bathroom and a tobacconist. Where we find them?"
The blonde teenager feeling the pinch and pimples, his glassy blue eyes seem surprised by the frankness of the question and obviously a stranger and especially accent wavers for a second. But luckily she did not give up: get your strength back, somehow manages to reorganize a counterattack interore and to show where and how to meet our urgent needs.
The stage is ready and people around there's far too much considered the size of the square, and all silently awaiting the start of the evening with a pizza, a beer and a chat with friends. In the background one could hear only the songs that come from the coffers of the Muse, no sound engineers banging on drums to mix volumes, no boos from the microphones and the amplifiers, it seems that everything is there ready to use forever. Marta sui Tubi I find them on the counter to taste with other blondes blondes entertainig medium, the latter turns into flesh and blood, that seem to dangle from their lips. I understand that a woman is not easy to resist the charm of the Sicilian cloth cap worn by the lifetime of the singer and guitarist of the beard. Zen Circus instead of not I still have marks on my radar. Meanwhile
MrHare begins to take some photos of heating, which knows awaits him a long and exhausting series of shots, and certainly has seen and experienced too many such evenings to find themselves unprepared as the first of amateurs. I see everything he can to frame, even one that does not deserve a shot at all, and I suspect that his mustache does not serve only to betray a source that otherwise Japan would seem rather obvious at this time.
Then you begin. You can tell by the lights go down, the piped music that stops abruptly to make room all'arringa unlikely but really given the Carfagna against gay pride parade in Rome, from drawings around the stage, probably made under the influence of lysergic powerful, that light up and seem to take life.
not have the scenic entrance Zen, are not rock stars thank God and you can tell your nose. Simply enter one after the other with the tools already in hand and granted, they attack various electrical jack and tinsel, light amplifiers, arrange a pig on a box of soft toys (a stuffed pig? Boh ...), greet us and leave from the square and solid riffs People of shit. Play online three circus Zen: The battery is behind, it is not raised, not elsewhere. It 's there in the middle of the two instruments to handle and is scarnissima: snare drum, hi-hat and crash. Stop. Thanks to exist.
And so it goes fast along a repertoire of sharp and intelligent irony and irreverence, going from very light to Twenty Son of a bitch, innate The selfish political manifesto to all Go fuck . I realize slowly being surrounded by children and small families, and this proves to me once more what I have noticed in recent months, or how overwhelming the fruitfulness of our fellow Venetians. But that's another story, return to us. Our heroes of the faith zen car are very intelligent people, and since today is the national team did get around to eliminate by the World Cup after two good efforts, they know that tonight will be able to speak evil, even more evil than usual (even if you do not say) of our country without being in any way criticized by someone, and that because football knows soothe the minds of we poor people do know more than politicians and current events. Sad but true. And so, despite the presence of the aforementioned, they do not give up digs to shoot more or less all the constructs which underpin our country and every other democracy in the twenty-first century: discipline, order, work, religion. I love you guys.
At the end of their exhibition jack off dicks and decks, but instead of going behind the scenes we see them get off from the stage, and before anyone can be surprised they are already beyond the barriers, because of those metal bars are there because I did not say I do not think it is worth losing even one line to give us a noise outside the program. I do not know whether it is correct to speak of metaconcerto in this case, I do not know if Zen willing to reveal at this time and break the artificial illusion of the event to claim the origin of the phenomenon of popular music, or whether they are just drunk, but I know Heroin Girl singing face to face with them is amazing, much more than simply stop (thanks Offlaga).
now clear to me: their every gesture is so extreme in its natural which becomes a hymn to anarchy, an incitement to life, and goes good with it.
To my great sadness, however, their concert ends, and while they are in line to take two beers will be in charge of refreshments, with MrHare firm to patrol and safeguard our place on the grid, I feel that preparations for the arrival of the main event of the evening are to end. In fact, back on the same tile first just in time to see lights go on stage between the last component of crazy Marta Sui Tubi, singer, belly flesh and blood. A pretty sight, nothing to say.
Well, ladies and Singoria that mean? Marta I live work like a charm. They are technically amazing, they have personality sell, no installation or air from the first woman, take the stage with a confidence and prove to be embarrassing to the skilled craftsman: just calm down the applause of scroscioni are ready to start putting them to repeat jokes about football and politics. Who also know how to compose beautiful songs I already knew. Now at least I hope that your feet stink, and I say this without malice, is clear. The sound that comes out is a wonder: if they ACULTY you realize that when they raise the volumes seem to Rage Against The Machine, when they increase the pace reminiscent of the Red Hot Chili Peppers Blood Sugar Sex Magik, where they become the melodic charm, but if you look you see only a cello, an acoustic guitar, a piano, a standard battery and un'ugola more than respectable behind the microphone, eyes wide and you understand that people like that around today there is very little. Isomma, beautiful. Abandonment is a blow to the heart, especially for people like us refugee life has to move suitcases, which are becoming larger and heavier with each passing year, that you make an effort to close them Executioner; Via Dante is always a rare pleasure and closing Why does not weigh anything less is just that obvious, but very effective. Certainly, however, that defects Old I wanted to hear her sing it just once and for all, but that's another story. We decide
to skip the beer leave because you work tomorrow, damn it all, and should shorten the maximum time to return to bed. So we begin to recall the way home. As we walk through one of my last glimpses of lucidity reminds me that after my third beer is highly developed sense of inesorbailmente usually go to hell, so I ask mannikin duty charge of monitoring the fence that closes off the access road directions to the festival to return home. Concentrate and listen in silence to his instructions, and to transpose them tattooed on me the brain, driving carefully and put them into practice in a few minutes we are completely off course at the exit of Treviso North. Obviously only around cultivated fields.
asshole of a man, if your job is to keep a piece of iron there must be a reason.
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