Un problema del pubblicare in inglese per il blog, tra i vari problemi del pubblicare per il blog, un problema è che io, così, i post me li dimentico. Quando rileggo un post in italiano, pure vecchio di quattro o cinque anni, di quel post in italiano io mi ricordo tutto. E mi ricordo il momento in cui l’ho scritto, dov’ero, e il perché, e quali erano le sensazioni che provavo, pure, e le mie emozioni, le mie ispirazioni. Invece, in inglese, io i post non li rileggo nemmeno.
I have three strokes of luck, in my view. Among others, mind you; and then think about it: I’m a man, white, heterosexual, western, bourgeois in practice, and there are millions of people in the world who can’t afford to have strokes of luck. I get to grumble, plenty of others don’t. Anyway, I was saying, I’m lucky. I’m lucky because in my life as a listener of alternative Italian music, from his very first album, I grew attached to listening to Caparezza1. And I’ve seen many of his concerts since then.
Rereading the previous list of my default apps, I realized that, in fact, the ones on record are not, really, my default apps anymore. I’m a bit obsessive about this, I’ve probably mentioned it before, and however much more stable I feel about it compared to a few years ago, this list has far too many things that no longer reflect the current state of how I use my Mac. Here I’m listing the apps I’ve changed, and I’ll correct the list as a reminder for the future. Who knows about next year.
During my recent holiday in Spain, I found myself reflecting on the joy and the freedom I enjoyed moving from one State to another: from not having to change currency, from having my documents recognised, from not having to switch my phone plan, from not having to pay artificial surcharges. Moving between Italy and Denmark is the equivalent of a trip between Bari and Bolzano – there will be differences, and long may they live! – but there will also be things in common, the essential ones, that unite us and make us ‘one people’. .
Shutting ourselves away in our own ziggurats will bring us no wellbeing, nor will it take us far as Humanity. Our greatest progress has come whenever we moved beyond the needs of the single individual.
During my last trip I used Uber. I use it now and then, when I need to and (above all) when I’m abroad. I redownloaded the app on my iPhone and logged in. All good. Good service, just as I remembered it. Maybe even better than I remembered it.
Before last Christmas I treated myself to a Camp Snap Pro. It’s a simple point-and-shoot camera, born with the idea of being used without too many expectations.
In January 2025 I resurrected a Signal account that had, for all intents and purposes, fallen into disuse, and I shared it here on the blog with the intention of using it more often and with more engagement. For nearly a year and a half, I’ve communicated very little through the account, and only with a couple of friends who could just as easily reach me elsewhere.
Last night my father-in-law came over for dinner. We had chicken, which he loves, and drank a great chilled Falanghina he’d picked up the previous weekend in Guardia Sanframondi. Then my daughter suggested he see the photos from our last trip: I still had them on my Mac, so I screen-shared to the Apple TV. It was a happy moment, cheerful and shared. Then, when we were done, as I was setting down the little glass of homemade Nocillo my mother makes, the goddamn MacBook slipped out of my hand and the fucking screen shattered.