il futuro fortuito

Hola, sono tornato con un testo improvvisato come la reazione all'inaspettato. Ci sto pensando da tempo e vorrei fondare un tempio di informazione, che celi dietro alle nuvole del cielo le mie celeri opinioni e che renda un'attivo servizio informativo per interessati.
[e sono tornato a rileggere sopra perché il mio limite non è vero ch'è sempre stato il poco labor limae]
comunque stavo meditando a dosare lo stream of consciousness a un minino e partire un blog che spieghi o descriva l'italia ai non italiani ( o anche agli italiani) e sarà in inglese.

Non so se valga la pena, ma alla fine il mio unico timore è la mia inconsistenza, o meglio, la mia incostanza. Ma che conta? Ci provo, no?
Sarebbe un altezzoso e rumoroso "Italy explained" ma non so se non sembri selvaggiamente click-baity o solamente una merda.

Sarebbe un racconto di quello che penso sia misconception all'estero e quello che ritengo sia insaputo. Contando che nemmeno io sono veramente italiano e che mi celo dietro a pseudonimo, non so cosa possa aracnidamente cavarne dal buco, ma potrebbe funzionare, no?

Onestamente la mole di lettori già di questo blog è rasente a zero, quindi per non eufemizzarla, fa cagare a visualizzazioni. Quale pro a propinare un'altra solfa di contorte sparate che missano anche corpi di proporzioni astronomiche?
Non lo so.

C'è, comunque, e resta. C'è e resta la pulsione abissalmente profonda di inanellare parole per avere l'unica  libertà rimasta di forgiarmi personalmente le catene.
"Prigioniero e carceriere di me stesso nella prigione che sono io stesso", sono così confuso da non sapere se sia una citazione o sia frase mia o citazione di un altro me, morto d'inedia in prigionia.
Quindi sì, non sono più tornato indietro a labor-limare, sono in loop e sto streamando a bomba il flow di pensieri che sfiora l'aria come le mie palpebre assonnate alla luce artificiale di milioni di pixel.

D'accordo, mi ho convinto, vada per "Italy Explained" e cada la prima foglia d'autunno, il primo fiocco d'inverno, il primo strale dal cielo, la prima fenditura nella roccia colpita con rabbia.
Vedremo.

Quantum Annoyance

Quantum mechanics as a field of science is old.  Guys,  we are talking of a theory completely developed before 1930 (the main contributors Schroedinger,  Heisenberg and Dirac got their Nobel prizes in 1933).  Sadly enough,  quantum mechanics (qm hereafter)  did not receive that much popular acclaim like Einstein's Relativity,  mainly because qm wasn't the product of a singular mind,  but the joint collaboration of the most brilliant minds of the last century (Einstein too,  in a peculiar way).
Only in recent times I've seen an increasing interest,  and an increasing misuse,  in the word 'quantum'.
The fact that qm is perceived as an interesting topic is good,  but the true reason is its mystic nature. And that really pisses me off.
Quantum mechanics,  and its relativistic covariant version quantum field theory (qft),  is nothing like mystic.  It is a theory: a set of laws and rules that describe nature,  based on some principles believed absolute.
If you are reading this and you do not know much about qm,  then you better know that qm is just the crowning jewel of the human thought and it is a direct evolution of Galilei's and Newton's work.  Never in history of science has a theory struggled so much on the meaning of Measurement and Observation. Qm is basically the only scientific theory that embodies in itself the existence of a measurement device inside the system we are describing.
This is an evolution of the concept of Observer in Galilei's and Einstein's Relativity.
Qm looks strange and mystic because for the first time we have a theory which KNOWS that in the end we have to compare to the experiments. It's a huge breakthrough: we do not have a theory constructed in some hyperhuranium,  like Plato's ideas,  that needs to be dirtied when applied (because every other scientific theory does exactly that).
Qm is strange because it's not shy,  qm doesn't lie about the ugly difficult job to understand reality.
Is an electron a particle or a wave?  Well it's neither and it's both (that is what experiments tell us!).  Qm describes them exactly them as probability distributions! What does it mean? It means that qm can not tell you what an electron is,  but can tell you where you can find it,  how often and also why you can find it here and not there.
It looks strange,  but science is not Tolkien,  there is no background story to the characters,  only Possibilities.
You may have heard that qm is no more a deterministic theory,  but it is probabilistic.  In fact qm gives you probabilities that something is somewhere,  but you could not find a trajectory for your objects from day zero to the doomsday. In qm there is no fate.  Only possibilities.
Can you now see why,  as a theory,  qm is both appealing and scary?
But in the end this is not Scientology,  qm is as it is because people spent nights looking at papers with experimental results.  I like to picture in my mind Wolfgang Pauli staring at a blackboard with a cup of coffee the whole night trying to figure out why things went that way.
Think of a physicist as you would think of Sherlock Holmes.  You have a crime scene and,  no matter how odd your reasoning,  you have to connect the dots.
Qm is not fancy or strange by construction,  it became the way it is because it's the only way,  the only rulebook,  that allows us to decode the reality.
This is no alchemy,  it is war against reality.  And we won this battle.
It is no matter of science,  faith,  aesthetics or art.  That's what i would like the people to understand: qm is just something you should be proud of,  as a human being.  Nothing to fear,  worship or admire.  Just be proud of this achievement.

The Comfort of Confront

The moment you catch that glimpse of understanding in others' eyes, that's the moment when you can safely die.
Until then I must strive, both escaping the trap of self-believing and avoiding the blind trust. Fighting, round after round, no victory for the toughest, no defeat for the weak. Just an exhausting dance.

This very blog is a pale attempt to achieve my (and everyone's) goal: express the inner turmoil, confront our shared fears and whatever you motherfuckers want to read here. Either guide me or let me drive you, let's dance brothers and sisters. Yeah, sometimes I can be aggressive, self-indulgent, immodest or just plainly stupid (such a dumbass I am), I know. The rest of the time I just want to Kill the Uncertainty.
Bold words, Bald words. Anyway freezing silence must be burned to ashes, with fire thoughts. Though guys out there?



Actually all this stuff is bullshit. The only thing I can say is: I'll do my best.

Win or loose, grin over noose.

LOOSING OR GRINNING

Heal my scars with injures anew
cut my flesh with your tongue sharpened blade
on the invisible and unwitnessed path
of lives recovering in shade
of peaceful gloom
prelude of doom
feed me again with hunger
dispatch anger in shape of silence
that I can hear that I can feel
in the sudden absence of violece
I am thirsty and my boiling blood
does not seem enough for us both.

We should never understimate the power exerted by close living souls on our Weltanschauung.

Beware what ya share

CONDIVISION (SHARING)


Never it is transparent
the dividing wall
that separates
the futile difference between us.
And even if moved
the bright tear brushes ,
that never shed
is the most bitter.

We can safely account this as an experiment. Quite a stupid experiment.
I just translated one of my poetries from italian to english and it sounds aweful, without metric nor some kind of phonetic beauty.
Anyway, I'm just interested in experimentation and I will rewrite this something like a milion times. Only to discover that there's no hope for me to translate something that actually does not make any sense in italian too.

The flavour of darkness from the upcoming dinner

I was wondering what's the greatest thing I can hope to achive using this blog.
'Well - I thought- it would be amazing if people from all over the planet took this post seriously and... they start to learn italian the hard way!"

That's right!
Actually I don't expect people to learn anything from me, not even my true name, nevertheless it could be pretty fun if some random web-surfer stumbles in this blog and, you know, falls in love with my majestic verbosity!

The point is: I am something like a poet and I write stuff in italian. To be honest, I am more like a jester or an entertainer: I throw words to the sky like a farmer throws seeds and I expect my words to grow by themselves in the shape of amazing poems.

In truth I utterly fail in my game of words, at least using italian (and that's my native fucking language, bro!).
That's why I am violently broadenig my audience with this.. how can I call this? Yeah... with this Invocation!

(That's enough bullshits for today, I return doing what I do best: hiding.)