him I have to. In "The City of trans-communist" I had sketched a concise portrait. The 'non-monk' who propose again here.
"There is a case of X, the non-monk, who lives as a political ball psycho-pathological. E 'manic obsession to sneak filled with groups of those who believes it is important, bragging knowledge and relationships tributaries. Karst reappears at every opportunity topica (come le elezioni, le direzioni, i congressi, sia a Bologna che a Roma, nonché alle primarie del ‘99, per le quali riesce addirittura a raccogliere un certo numero di firme, che poi gli vengono crudelmente invalidate). Tenta in ogni modo di insinuarsi nelle cerchie riservate, dove ha l’ardire di prendere la parola e dalle quali viene immancabilmente allontanato a forza, sollevato per le ascelle mentre sgambetta. Durante la fase concitata del dopo-voto, a urne calde, penetra nel comitato elettorale di Cofferati in via Mentana. Una volta individuato viene messo alla porta da due energumeni. Passandomi accanto mi riconosce. Esultando come chi ha trovato un amico provvidenziale che può salvarlo dalla sorte crudele che lo attende (la porta out) makes me desperately my arms around him, as still in a branch or a rock, and almost drags me to the ground. Even now I wonder: why crackpot dear to you and others do not? ".
was him, Charlemagne, Mr. X. This time it raised a force, but under the eyes of the cameras, broadcast worldwide. Identify yourself as freelancers at the press conference Berlusconi did imbufalire. In addition, he revealed to the world as more plastic can not be the intimate nature (and servile squad) the Minister La Russa. On the photos you see the little Charlemagne, bald, with glasses or maybe not, contact lenses, as was shown by the darkened coat and scarf how we dress, the mother, who stands on the bystanders and addressed the questions that no one dares to Cayman. As Lenin on Red Square. . Then it can be seen sitting with the dignity of a person sentenced to death in the hands of the enemy. As Gramsci before the special court. Finally disappearing under a deluge of pulling and threats. As Gandhi. Little man. Great courage. Charlemagne challenge the jaws of the animal with the power of truth. As Tartaglia is a simple, but instead of having a cathedral of Milan in his hands, the flower has the mouth that terrifies the timid, the fools, criminals. So the picture I had drawn up, as intimately sympathetic, was misleading. I had read that he was not just the 'dot' manic policy, but a Courage Under Fire / witness absolutely exceptional. Hidden, necessarily, in its nature simple and bizarre. On second thought already present with its five hundred signatures on the outskirts of the federation for the primaries in '99, had shown a surprising ability to understand the 'political cycle'. A precursor. Now his courage is, in terms of effectiveness, more than a few oceanic event. It 'been able to show the naked King with the power of the word. So I ask forgiveness if in that time I did not Via Mentone snatched from the hands of bouncers. Among all was that he had more right to be there. And I also ask forgiveness for the times that I met the street (in front of shops and sinanche dark) and I tried to tell his wriggling madly passionate. Bizarre, surreal, megalomenici. Charlemagne. Calvo and kind. From his meter and sixty poor. Who among us could survive a name like that? Today I bow to Charlemagne, who arrives when none of us would have dared to bet. Charlemagne Uber alles.
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