I really had a strange motion, I would say a retching, when I saw Amadeus enter the empty Ariston stage. The Sanremo Festival, this year, based on the crazy protocols of the Technical Scientific Committee (which rhyme perfectly), takes place without an audience. Covid , as all of us poor victims of this 'apocalyptic' pandemic by now well know, spares no one; above all he does not spare the gatherings and therefore the theaters, at least some; others seem to spare them, such as Maria de Filippi's study of "C'e Posta per te" , which is broadcast with the public and where each seat is divided by a plexiglas panel s. And above all, the virus has its own schedules; like a blood-sucking vampire he goes out in the evening and retires in the day. And then he loves colors. Red in particular. When the area turns red it means that he is there to shed blood, almost everywhere.
We said, Sanremo. Had I been in Amadeus I would have refused to conduct a Festival in those conditions. With the recorded applause, and those poor guys in the orchestra forced to play in a mask (but not the maestro!). With the ridiculous mask that no serious and scientifically founded study has ever shown to be able to prevent contagion. Quite the contrary. If anything, serious studies have shown that it does more harm than good to wear it, and above all to wear it that way, all that time and without changing it at least two or three times within a few hours.
I understand the sponsors, I understand the millionaire cachet of those who lead, of the guests, the round of money. But doing it under these conditions is really embarrassing, and above all it exposes us to ridicule in the eyes of the world. Not only that, did you know that Liguria returned to the yellow band on Monday but that the areas of Sanremo and Ventimiglia had to be red due to the high number of infections, but an exception was made for the Festival and therefore the restaurants in the city some flowers were able to open for lunch to eat the cheerful Rai brigade and various singers? The virus is there but sometimes it disguises itself, makes exceptions, depending on the convenience, often of sponsors.
Fortunately there is Fiorello. In a hilarious scene in which the flowers of Sanremo were given to a young singer, Amadeus underlined how according to the protocols of the famous CTS (the crazy ones, in fact), the flowers should not be delivered by hand, under penalty of being electrocuted by the lurking virus. . When Fiorello enters with a trolley with a glass vase on it with flowers inside and says "you can't touch them but you don't know how they got here, nor who put them there, boh" and then orders the unfortunate girl to do not touch them or you will get infected. There is really only this to do now; laugh, laugh heartily in the face of idiocy, and the senseless collective terror that has now pervaded the minds of Italians due not only to unscrupulous media terrorism but because of medicine that has replaced politics (cowardly and deresponsabilized) in making decisions about our lives. Nobody should ever have allowed doctors, whoever they are, to have the last word on our behavior. Instead, politics has done exactly that; she stepped out, fearfully, and let our habits be upset, overturned, humiliated by a virus that was not much stronger than a flu.
Easy to say that in order not to accept this massacre, to respect the history and tradition of the most important festival in Italy we should boycott it and not watch it. The Italians drank the pantomimes of Conte and Casalino, the biased and aggressive broadcasts of Gruber against anyone who had objections to the management of the virus, the censorship of the one who leads the morning on RaiUno and who cuts the line to those who do not let themselves be interviewed in mask, the Barbare d'Urso passed from the festival of the people of Pietralata to Mediaset Sundays with the blessing of Zingaretti, the Myrte Merlino who kneel for Black Lives Matter and are named knight of labor (ohibò!) … the Italians will drink , also this horror of a grotesque, ridiculous, farcical, humiliating Festival. They are drinking the man of providence, Mario Draghi, who is militarizing the Italian system to overturn the fate of the Count-Casalino, in a run-up to those who are more 'serious' against the dreaded Manzoni's disease.
Fortunately, there are no corpses in the street as on the pages of the great novel by the great Milanese writer, those "Betrothed" that Umberto Galimberti would like to remove from the study plans because he dares to say that Providence makes history. However, there are the Sanremo sketches with the figures in masks, ridiculous, horrendous and, a few steps from them, the co-drivers without, with the attendants around, the insiders, all in muzzles busy to run the panem machine et circenses especially at a time like this when the frightened populace has to tighten their belts and no longer breathe even in the open air, while the gentlemen are having fun behind us; shoulders more and more hunched, burdened by the absence of work, without refreshments, without Cig, without hope but with, unfortunately, Roberto Speranza still minister of health.
The Italians will drink this indecent Sanremo, where no kisses or hugs are given, where Ibra's Ego can safely wander around the empty theater at will. Where for some time there are no longer Duran Duran or Depeche Mode or Peter Gabriel as guests of honor but we have to settle for Laura Pausini. Where, of course, the nurse 'symbol' of the fight against Covid is invited , the one who posted the photo with the infection due to the mask used for twelve hours and who launched her pandemic message-propaganda, that is, that she does not we must let our guard down, and we must wash our hands and put on the mask, and all these rituals that now seem only superstitions, apotropaic rites, mystery evocations. And that, having no scientific basis, they have not served, as unfortunately we have seen after a year of deaths and infected, to nothing. We must live with Covid as Sweden has done and does. All other approaches are unsuccessful.
The post How sad the Sanremo Festival marred by anti-Covid protocols. Only Fiorello gives us a laugh appeared first on Atlantico Quotidiano .
This is a machine translation from Italian language of a post published on Atlantico Quotidiano at the URL http://www.atlanticoquotidiano.it/rubriche/che-tristezza-il-festival-di-sanremo-deturpato-dai-protocolli-anti-covid-solo-fiorello-ci-regala-una-risata/ on Thu, 04 Mar 2021 05:00:00 +0000.