Shattered Christmas

A small episode from many years ago. I was a little child walking down the street hand in hand with my daddy. We were living in the Italian town of ***. It was during the Christmas vacations, in fact I remember the festive illuminations that were still customary at the time: tinsels, stars, candle shapes made up of tiny leds, that sort of things. We were returning home through a maze of unfamiliar streets (at least unfamiliar to me); we’d just been to pay a visit to a great-aunt. Think of it, ’twas a bit inconsistent with the character of my father, an old-style militant agnostic, to follow the social…

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Oddities in the Berlin terror attack & a temptation to read more into it

Contrasts   Nowadays even wars are fought through the power of images. ISIS edits a glossy magazine where appallingly cruel actions get a polished professional presentation worthy of the National Geographic. Terrorists are recruited through internet forums, where propaganda movies are the basic staple of an exciting diet of strong imagery for the bloodlusty aspiring jihadist: think of the executions, where the hostages have been worn down through endless dry runs, so that they pose no resistance and appear completely subjugated to their murderers. Attacking Christmas is a natural choice for its symbolic value. Attacking a Christmas Market is even more incisive, because the shock effect is channeled through the…

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