Arcadia, a myth or a reality?

Thomas Cole, Dream of Arcadia, 1838. Denver Art Museum.

Let me completely disagree with the idea that 'Arcadia remains an imaginary country' ('Myth of Arcadia' by Susan E. Alcock in Cambridge Illustrated History - Ancient Greece by P. Cartledge) In particular in that article written by Susan E. Alcock it is written that, according to a noted botanist Oliver Rakham, 'land has gone to the bad since classical times'. Stop, stop, stop. It has gone to the bad from which point of view?! Are we judging the hard life of a shepherd dressed in rags with the point of view of a literate citizen of Athens or Cambridge? This is homogenizing and, at this point, I would consider better the ideas of the Physiocrats. The fact that Arcadia was one of the major suppliers of Greek mercenaries seems to oblige us to deal with an 'impoverished region of Greece'. But also the literate citizens of the evolved Sparta and Athens were continually forced to fight (not as mercenaries, ma it doesn't matter, as in war more or less we are all the same) if they wanted to survive! So they were all miserable, according to this point of view! You will accuse me: I don't want to accept 'its harsher, grimmer face'. Of course you are right if you use representations as Thomas Cole's paintings. It is time to check our sources, Pausanias' Guide to Greece and Strabo's Geography.

Policing in Athens: the first testimony of abuse of power?

Source ANSA: 'Students dragged and beaten' 06 October 2012

A few days ago, I was angry for this picture and for the fact that the main Italian news agency ANSA reported the news that young students of high schools in Rome, who claimed for a change, were "dragged on the ground by the police, beaten and threatened with a baton pointing to the throat". The quality of relationship between police and citizens is important to understand if we are in front of a mature democracy.

My rebellion, all luggage and airline tickets.

Me flying in Cornwall, August 2012.

I am writing alfresco from the garden of a semi-detached house in a green village just outside Cambridge. I blew 33 years few days ago. I left my country with no regrets by one of many Mayflower crossing the English Channel with many young dreamers, "Puritans", rebels fleeing Catholic Italy.

Spassionatamente, con garbo, ma quel manganello ve lo ficcate nel culo invece di picchiare ragazzini ancora con la cartella?

Che la condotta violenta della Polizia screditi l'Italia in tutto il mondo, non lo scrivo io, ma una sentenza della Cassazione riportata dal Corriere con il titolo "Diaz, la Cassazione: «La condotta della polizia ha screditato l'Italia in tutto il mondo». Fatto di una gravità inaudita.

Carrie Underwood - Blown Away

"Blown Away"

 Dry lightning cracks across the skies
 Those storm clouds gather in her eyes
 Her daddy was a mean old mister
 Mama was an angel in the ground
 The weather man called for a twister
 She prayed blow it down

There’s not enough rain in Oklahoma
 To wash the sins out of that house
 There’s not enough wind in Oklahoma
 To rip the nails out of the past

[Chorus:]
 Shatter every window 'til it’s all blown away,
 Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away
 'til there’s nothing left standing,
 Nothing left of yesterday
 Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away,
 Blown away

She heard those sirens screaming out
 Her daddy laid there passed out on the couch
 She locked herself in the cellar
 Listened to the screaming of the wind
 Some people called it taking shelter
 She called it sweet revenge

[Chorus:]
 Shatter every window 'til it’s all blown away,
 Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away
 'til there’s nothing left standing,
 Nothing left of yesterday
 Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away,
 Blown away

There’s not enough rain in Oklahoma
 To wash the sins out of that house
 There’s not enough wind in Oklahoma
 To rip the nails out of the past

Shatter every window 'til it’s all blown away (blown away)
 Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away (blown away)
 'til there’s nothing left standing,
 Nothing left of yesterday (blown away)
 Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away,

Blown away, blown away, blown away, blown away