of Christian Raimo
I'll tell you a story . A few years ago I was doing an investigation on precarious cognitive interviewing children between twenty-five and thirty-five graduates, iperformati, ipercompetenti, research grants that vivacchiavano between birds, begging their parents, and nebulous promises of contracts - we know that landscape tristanzuolo. I came across a girl, a doctorate in anthropology, which had managed to snatch a part-time in a foundation that gave it 650 euro per month and the rest of the time used in the light instead of his old teacher a lazy couple of courses, exams and other pseudo-volunteer university - paid little more than a refund (another thousand euro per year). Among those interviewed, was not one of those made worse. It was a smart girl, determined, proud of its independence (did not want to ask for money to her), and especially iperconsapevole conditions of exploitation, the dynamics of the academy barons etc ... along with four other tizie lived in an apartment in Tor Pignattara. He shared a double room, for which he paid € 200 a month, a very good price. More or less on balance its remaining five hundred euro, which could slightly 'increase revenue with some of the repetitions (third work, then). Of this money he was spending about 300 a month, he said, to do analysis. He had an absolute need because he felt rather depressed: a thirty-odd years he slept in a bed with mattress loosen as a freshman made off just landed in Rome, he never imagined any real long-term job opportunities, he felt a failure against his, she could not take seriously any romantic relationship, had a desire for a child that seemed pure unconsciousness, he was always tired (the foundation where he worked his seat across the city than at home ' universities).
At the end of the long interview that was turned into a question and answer on the material and moral conditions of Italian life in the year zero, I went home sad. I had to admit that my situation was not too different from his, yet beyond this kind of empathy and reflection, was not fired any sense of shared identity, no lump of class consciousness, as you might say. The point is that
she was going to try to get better at doing therapy, and with the help of the analyst was trying to improve the relationship with her family, wanted to be able to consider the legitimate desire to fall in love with a man, starting a family, its ability to believe in the future, and wanted to feel less guilty if you do not get to do pretty well for everything that was required between university and work. The social malaise that had infected, if she had taken charge of it all around. The formation of class consciousness had been replaced by an individual path tuning psychological research, for which he spent almost half his monthly pay. It seemed a perfect symbol of what was going around to the generations of this age-post community. Rather than outsource the malaise, trying to create social conflict, or at least brotherhood, the discomfort was introjected and everything you tried to solve it at their own expense - literally. Moreover, this girl did not seek this conflict even more, looking calm.
I'll tell you another story, shorter. There is a story of Nicholas Lagioia of 2007 that features a girl named Sara who works organizing events. In the beginning are in the midst of a supergiornata while working, underpaid, why bother have just arrived in funding for what would like a big festival of theater, literature, art ... His life seems a lonely animal stagismo routine, except that he meets and becomes infatuated with a guy named Mario, and the climax scene manages to get invited to dinner him. But while things seem to be going the expected, something starts to short-circuit in his thoughts: "I wanted to keep the conversation to a decent level, but as I tried to concentrate on his words I could not help but think of the calls tell him, tell him ... the calls, so I tried to think of anything else, I wanted to enjoy my dinner, but the voice occasionally peeked between the speeches, and he followed me into the living room, where we took a whiskey, and followed me bedroom, where at some point, somehow, we were already making love, we were initially these clumsy movements, then he came inside me, and while I told him: "John ..." in a part of the head continued to resonate as a bottomless pit of the calls tell him, tell him of the calls. "
There seems paradoxical? Yet, if we think about a second, this schizophrenia is not only a symptom of an extreme version of capitalism in the service industry. Schizophrenia is exactly, precisely, the model of labor relations that interest us. Schizophrenia is a psychotic replacement of class conflict. Employees and self-matches VAT and non-standard contracts, students and teachers are insecure, depressed thirties and sixties who continue to finance their children's lives, hoping that one day they will reward you. The distance between those who exploit and is used to pass across an inner conflict. And in the long run this division - which never becomes dialectic - creates a kind of habituation, a chronic discomfort. Namely: a clinical device that can really think, normal, remaining in a paradox like that of a forty-living teenager, or as that of a girl who does not know if the love that is beginning to feel the might come handy for his work as a press office. Social malaise that, instead of recognizing it as class consciousness drugged, sometimes we give the name of bipolarity, in a sort of medicalization of political tension.
(Indeed, without realizing it, the pathologies of the contemporary psyche have become useful in business. What to say, is more efficient as an obsessive-compulsive organizer of events, call to confirm that ten times that all the people invited responded that the hotel rooms are booked, the trains have no delays, etc ...? The last stage of a narcissist can be a value-added as a top manager with respect to a person with self-critical capacity? As a person in the grip to anxiety performance will be a hundred times longer available for unpaid overtime? It would be too surreal if not a day on the curriculum began to be a voice disorders to replace the personal characteristics or skills).
But back to us, we may wonder why this does not become uncomfortable inner class consciousness, for this low of recrimination has rarely acute anger, and figured if it manifests itself as rebellion. A partial answer we can get another little story. A little 'time ago I happened to see an episode of Ballarò dedicated to work. There was a service of ten minutes on an unemployed person, a middle-aged man who had just lost his job. From his home in the shadows telling the camera how her life was miserable, undignified now that was a walk: he felt like a worm because it could not even pay the school football to his son as he had promised for some time. At the end of the service, entrepreneurs who were in the studio, the type Todini, had caught the ball and had immediately declared before an audience: let the number of unemployed this, we shall soon see what we can do a stitch of work in the name son of the school football team will find him. The question I had set was not so much on the fact of how the spectacle actually annul the value of the complaint, in fact legitimized immediately the words of Todini & co. The shock I felt was right in the introjection of this monstrous mechanism of subjection, even the unemployed - once had finally voice - he had no ability to become a political player, ended up showing just a miserable, unable to rise from its condition of symptom of a malaise impersonal, and then maybe get a job.
And this reversal, you know, in recent years was cleared. So much so that for example the last campaign of the Presidency of the Republic on safety at work builds on that. Look at the billboards. A picture of a happy family, framed in one frame of a polaroid, and a disturbing slogan Do not let this become just a memory. Those who love workplace safety claims. Who loves you?! Now if I remain crushed by a press should I even feel guilty? It was not my right? It was not a protection which was to take responsibility for my employer? Do I have to assume responsibility for this?
Now - and here comes the hard part - how to connect this widespread anesthesia compared to the awakening of class consciousness with the appearance of radical vulgarity, folk apparently of Italian politics: the jokes that got to do with Pomigliano seasoned with profanity? and suicide researchers Bossi with the middle finger that pulls in every pie 'pushed like a gangsta rookie? How to put together the policy and that other policy? We can hazard any guesses reading?
In fact there seems like maybe the power present in the very same day by using this two-party mass as its referent? My impression was to compare two movies strikingly similar. One is the famous story (which is defined as Berlusconi jokes) on Rosy Bindi told in L'Aquila with the final blasphemy. Another can be found online ( here) and is a scene of Salò or the 120 Days of Sodom of Pasolini's just one of the girls died of torture captives of the old hierarchy when one of them took the floor and says, "And so the girls are eight instead of nine. And about eight I am reminded of a story (sic). This is a c'aveva that a friend named Perotto. One night, coming together during the blackout, the two were lost. Then our man looks at his friend. And groping search search search, and finally seems to see something moving in the dark. All happy, thinking he had found his friend Perrot, shouting: 'You Perotto?', And a voice in the dark says, 'Forty'. " And down the laughter of the torturers. Framed in reverse Pasolini ... As the cameraman with makeshift cell in L'Aquila ... The context gives food for thought. In Salo Pasolini's corpse as soon as there is a fresh, L'Aquila, there are still clearing the rubble. Why Pasolini chose to put into the mouths of the Republican hierarchy jokes? Why Berlusconi is so stubborn in telling his stories, incorrect, profane, offensive, childish in any occasion, or believe that it will stop after the latter criticized by the Church and the Jewish community? Why
Berlusconi, in the view that he himself created deadly, yet decided to embody the principle transgressive, carnivalesque, the overthrow of that order which he should instead provide? Why
power works just as well: as "inherent transgression". Slavoj Zizek shows it perfectly Pervert's Guide to Cinema when analyzing a piece of Eisenstein's Ivan the terrible: there is a group of boyars that after making a clean sweep of the enemies of the tsar , re-stages a kind of musical carnival that is the massacre, sfotte and brutalizes those who had dared to rebel and who was murdered in the worst way. As he points out the Slovenian philosopher, comedy staged by the surplus power is not a folklorist (not as folklore the middle finger of Bossi and Berlusconi's horns), but it is the fullest expression of the destructive energy power, juissance , enjoyment, orgasm. Laughter replaces Eagle ejaculation a movie on youporn, as saying.
But that's allowed because it is now completely has to do with a company in the throes of this mass schizophrenia. That faced with the question of the earthquake split lives emotionality. On the one hand, the outrage is irrelevant. The other a legitimate desire to return to live, to laugh, to be carefree. And it is here that the blasphemer and jokes meets Berlusconi in one fell swoop in a Pavlovian both wishes: them out. Not maturing neither one nor the other, it dismisses the possibility of growth, and swept them away from politics.
What if we avoid to solve our critical indignation on one side (left) and laugh at the jokes of Berlusconi (right)? Perhaps these impulses legitimate to fall in love with a man to raise a family, to see rebuilt our city would not be satisfied in the near-fake, introjected, medicalized, in practice removed, but may be able to be powerful, finally arrived in create something else. "
when sides are ready, cover every page with transparent adhesive paper (it is stationary and is usually in sheets that can be cut). 
vic this is by train (as we came here), sitting next to me, is the one behind is an old man before leaving Big Belly has strafocato unmentionable four packages of snack and then slept the whole trip. vic looked and UH did. 
this is the house. seems 
