February 19

Preti Pedofili? Non Solo Mele Marce

C

Copyright dell’immagine: Getty Images/IStock



Attenzione: nel post che segue si fa riferimento a violenza e abusi sessuali.

Probabilmente è un limite mio, ma faccio veramente molta fatica a capire chi sostiene la chiesa cattolica. Non parlo della fede, dell’essere cristiani, ma nello specifico del sostenere la chiesa cattolica come istituzione.
Stamane ho finito di guardare la serie-documentario “The Keepers”, su Netflix.
In breve: nel 1969 Cathy Cesnik, una suora nemmeno trentenne, viene assassinata. Insegnava in una prestigiosa scuola cattolica.
Negli anni 90 viene fuori che, appena qualche mese prima dell’omicidio, un’allieva le aveva confidato di venire stuprata da “padre” Maskell. Le testimonianze parleranno purtroppo sia di altri stupratori che di altre vittime. Sono racconti che fanno accapponare la pelle, soprattutto perché Maskell non era un capoccia intonacato qualunque, ma un laureato in psicologia.
Decine di persone raccontano di essere state molestate e/o stuprate da lui in giovane o giovanissima età, eppure l’arcidiocesi non lo accuserà mai ufficialmente di nulla. In compenso arriverà ad offrire un totale di quasi mezzo milione di dollari alle vittime.
Trasferirlo a seguito della prima denuncia da parte di una madre (negando però che questa denuncia sia mai avvenuta), non accusarlo mai ufficialmente, offrire soldi alle vittime, anche davanti alla possibilità che sia stato direttamente coinvolto in un omicidio: queste le mosse della chiesa.
A seguito di un appello delle vittime perché i tempi di prescrizione vengano allungati e le testimonianze vengano prese in considerazione nonostante siano passati molti anni dagli abusi, la scena che più di tutte mi ha fatta infuriare: i rappresentanti della chiesa cattolica (l’avvocato Kevin Murphy e Alison D’Alesslessandro, direttrice responsabile arcidiocesana per la protezione di bambini e giovani) che, dopo aver ascoltato i racconti, placidamente replicano opponendosi alla proroga, prima di tutto perché i ricordi devono essere freschi e non si può rischiare di parlare male di chi è morto o scomparso, dunque non ha più modo di difendersi, e in secondo luogo – qui viene il bello – per spronare gli abusati a parlare subito, evitando nuove violenze su nuove vittime.
Sì, avete capito bene: secondo i rappresentanti della chiesa cattolica la colpa degli abusi sulle vittime successive non è di chi invece di denunciare ha trasferito, e di chi a distanza di decenni continua a insabbiare, bensì delle persone troppo traumatizzate e spaventate per parlare prima; tutto questo, lo ricordiamo, con un omicidio di mezzo.

Non tutti i preti sono pedofili, né responsabili di omicidi, Cathy stessa era una donna di chiesa. La prossima volta in cui la RAI vi fa vedere uno spot con la musichetta strappalacrime, in cui si dice che la chiesa cattolica ha bisogno dei vostri soldi per aiutare le piccole missioni, ricordatevi però che ne ha bisogno anche per pagare la gente che dice e fa di queste porcate, che cerca di impedire modifiche alle leggi che aiuterebbero le vittime ad ottenere giustizia, perché evidentemente difendere chi abusa è più importante.
I preti pedofili saranno pure mele marce, ma il lavoro di copertura avviene invece a livello istituzionale, in maniera sistematica, ed è dovere di tutti smettere di finanziare questo circo degli orrori. Non ha senso definirsi cristiani se si è più attaccati ad un’istituzione che alla giustizia.

December 1

Italian Culture: The Same Things

A while ago I started a series on my YouTube channel, naming it “Italian Culture”, and hoping to allow people to get to know interesting cultural aspects of the Country I come from, aspects which aren’t easy to get to know for non-Italian speakers.
Now, this is not a video I posted on Youtube, but it’s something in the very same spirit.I bring you Le Stesse Cose (“The Same Things”), by Adriano Celentano, featured in the album Esco di Rado e Parlo Ancora Meno (“I Rarely Go Out and I Speak Even Less”), the first one I ever bought as a child.Fun fact: most Italian rockers hate Celentano.
Here is my translation of the lyrics of the song!
Please, note that I do not own the rights on the original lyrics, which were written by Carlo Mazzoni.

The Same Things

Tell me what changes when one loves and is not loved, or if one is loved and doesn’t love; what does it change?
Tell me what is left in a love ending,or in an ending without love, what is left?
I will do the same things
I will change three times a month
I will make again the same mistakes,
The ones I left out.
Without turning back I’ll ask for love and affection to a dark skinned woman,
Who will tell me the same things in a language
That you can’t understand
Tell me what is the difference between past and present
Inside or outside people’s conscience
Fashions, topics and horizons change,
But at the end of the day it’s ourselves we have to deal with
Stories in History
Old stories and new ones in the same history
Things already thought
Dead things
Then born again in other things
And you, great love, strong love
Desperately love
What do you think you’ll change with those eyes as green and as big as the sea?
And they go like this, this way things go
And they go like this, this way things go
And the day will come, when you’ll be able to be by yourself for a while in my heart
I’ll let your strong brightness kidnap me and infect me
What’s going to be of that love you left in the streets and everywhere?
If in order to hold me you always had to say: “Let’s find a shelter from the rain!”
I will do
You will do
The same things
I will change
You will change
Three times a month
I will make again
You will make
The same mistakes
The ones I left out
Tell me what changes when one loves and is not loved, or if one is loved and doesn’t love; what does it?
Tell me what is left in a love ending,
Or in an ending without love,
What is left?



April 27

Bleed for Love (At the Magic Door)

Shaken 
by the storm you bring
By your lack of will
The emptiness you leave

You trapped me in a dream
Keep me far from reality
I should tear down the wall
But your voice mesmerizes my soul
A siren or a ghoul
I bleed for love

They say: “You should leave ghosts from the past behind”
I turn and throw backwards a coin in a fountain
But despite bad luck hopes don’t die

Just for a night
When I see that smile
I can feel that I’m still alive

Just for a night
You run and hide
And I’m left behind, here, to curse the sky

You trapped me in a dream
Keep me far from reality
I should tear down the wall
But your voice mesmerizes my soul
A siren or a ghoul
I bleed for love

They say: “You should move on, there is no destiny”
But you’re life and death and everything in between
Even though I’m ashamed to say it

The magic door
Somewhere in Rome
There I’ll wait for the one I adore

The magic door
There we once more
Will go back to get what we’ve become

I know you saw the black moon
Between the Hangman and the Fool
But don’t try your Luck again
Or you, my dear, might loose its gift

The only dragon to defeat
My dear is your own fear
Opening your eyes you’ll see:
There’s no real wall in between

Shaken
by the storm you bring
By your lack of will
The emptiness you leave

You trapped me in a dream
Keep me far from reality
I should tear down the wall
But your voice mesmerizes my soul
A siren or a ghoul
I bleed for love

I bleed for love
Here’s again the dawn
The light in your eyes has gone

I bleed for love
At the magic door
Blamed for a murder I never wrote

Shaken
by the storm you bring

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Heidi Holappa and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

Lilith

From the dark moon
She will rise in the woods
If we just are
Enough faithful

Shining red hair
Her beauty and her pride
Your only chance
To live or to survive

Rejected from
God and the whole Eden
She has no hope
Or will to go back there

Seems like tonight
She could be listening
To all our thoughts
That’s why we pray and call

Lilith
Lilith
Lilith
Lilith
She is there for all brokenhearted at night and
She’ll still be there when this world will come to an end.

She protects all
Rebels coming undone
She’s our mother
Our goddes and lover

In the forest
She lives her deep freedom
And in our hearts
She has her own kingdom

She protects all
Those who fought since the dawn
Of everything
Those who still are burning

Seems like tonight
She could be listening
To all our thoughts,
That’s why we pray and call:

Lilith
Lilith
Lilith
Lilith

She is there for all brokenhearted at night and
She’ll still be there when this world
Will come to an end

In the name of the black moon

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Sami Santanen and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

Dime

Another night
Another dime
To throw away

Another sight
Another quiet
Howl in my head

‘Cause here at night
I can’t reply
Only cry in bed

You are the dime that brings bad luck
You are the struck and the stardust
You’re the disaster and
My only master and
It doesn’t help trying to live
‘Cause without you I cannot breathe

Another night
Another dime
It’s just the same

Another bite
Another cry
Not in my head

‘Cause here at night
Alone I die
Wish I could forget

You are the dime that brings bad luck
You are the struck and the stardust
You’re the disaster and
My only master and

You are the dime that brings bad luck
You are the struck and the stardust
You’re the disaster and
My only master and
It doesn’t help trying to live
‘Cause without you I cannot breathe
I just cannot breathe

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Heidi Holappa and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

Claws

Have you seen the night my friend?
Have you seen its most dead end?
So why don’t you
Show me your claws?

Nothing’s as tragic as passion repressed
Nothing as noble as a moon to undress
Slow

Oh
Your mouth’s tasting like blood
Oh
Your mouth’s tasting like blood
Oh
The rain turns into flood with this wisdom undead and nothing left to regret
So our storm is all set
Oh
Show me your claws

How do you feel tonight my friend?
Are you enjoying the red dream you see?
Inside of all your dreams you see
There’s the crooked and vague shape of a myth
Your real way to be

Oh
A fire that burns from below
Oh
The supernatural growl of your soul held from above
A beast finally released
From the false talk of the priest

Never forget what’s the work of the witch
Never forget what’s the work of the witch
Never forget what’s the work of the witch
Never forget what’s the work of the witch

Oh
And the dream of Lilith
Oh
She’s gonna show you her claws
Oh
She’s gonna show you her claws, what’s hidden under her gown
The classic theme of return
And of your moral undone

Oh
Show me your claws

Never forget what’s the work of the witch

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Petri Lahti-Nuuttila and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

Takhisis

On a night like this
Like a fate’s twist
I saw her wings spread
The sky turned dark red

In a moment I knew
Our life was through
I was filled with regret
And things not said

But the dragon was there
To be admired, not tamed
Worshipped and not killed
By a fool’s wish

Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red
Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red

And with a deep kiss
By her dead lips
And her fire-breath
She destroyed our faith

Burned the remains
And I saw the truth
Through the Abyss doomed

Huma’s fooled
But the dragon was there
To be admired, not tamed
Worshipped and not killed
By a fool’s wish

Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red
Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red

Like the eyes of Raistlin here meanwhile
I see everything dying

Hear from the Abyss
The music slips
It’s magic black
And you’re a puppet

Lame and seduced
Sweet is the abuse
Closer the tomb
You’re her fool

Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red
Queen of the sky
And empress of the night
Takhisis, five heads
Black, white, blue, green, red

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Petri Lahti-Nuuttila and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

13 Children’s Tongues

Have you seen the night my friend?
Have you seen the work of the witch?
With thirteen children’s tongues placed
Under your sit

Do you think you’re free my friend?
After everything she did?
Cut thirteen children’s tongues to
Throw you to the pit

Those thirteen children’s tongues were not
Meant to be cut flesh
And proper witches’ work is not
The work of the butcher
But there are those who left the way
The path of the light
And we have to fight them, you know
For the sake of life

Do you trust the Moon, my friend?
At least when it’s full?
The thirteen children’s tongues made
So strong your fate

And are you ancient my friend?
As old as I am?
Bite thirteen children’s tongues and
Dance with Amunet

Those thirteen children’s tongues were not
Meant to be cut flesh
And proper witches’ work is not
The work of the butcher
But there are those who left the way
The path of the light
And we have to fight them, you know
For the sake of life

Those thirteen children’s tongues will not
Trap you my friend
Together we’re so strong
She will regret

Fight!
Fight!
Fight!
Fight for the light
Fight the enemy out of sight
With the Goddess on our mind
Fight!
Fight!
Fight!
Fight for the light
Fight the enemy out of sight
With the goddess by our side
Fight!
Fight!
Fight!
With the Goddess on our mind
Fight!
Fight!
Fight!
With the Goddess by our side
Fight!
Fight!
Fight!

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Petri Lahti-Nuuttila and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.

April 27

Mazzarò

Have you heard of Mazzarò?
Diamond-head who after all
Thing by thing bought his whole world
But I’m gonna tell you more
Come closer and guess what?
Now it’s the whole world
Who wants you like Mazzarò

So your only craft
Must be to get more stuff
Till the day you’ll die
It will be too late to hide

Need more and more

Have you heard of Mazzarò?
Diamond-head who after all
Thing by thing bought his whole world

But who wants to hear more?
We’re doomed to do work
For money, we’re all whores
Otherwise our hunger grows
As our only craft
Becomes mere survival
Till we’ll realise
Money’s nothing when you die

Need more and more

Have you heard of Mazzarò?
Diamond-head who after all
Thing by thing bought his whole world
He could not

Have you heard of Mazzarò?
Diamond-head who after all
Thing by thing bought his whole world
Have you heard of Mazzarò?
Diamond-head who after all
Carry his stuff to the grave
Well, he could not

From the album At the Magic Door, by Strega.
Lyrics by Delia Morrigan.
Music by Petri Lahti-Nuuttila and Delia Morrigan.

Cover illustration by Delia Morrigan.