:: Me, aka myself
Nearly 47 years ago a tragic, although awaited, event marked forever the life of my
parents: at 6.00 pm on a day at the end of November the under signed saw the light.
Since that very moment there have been two poor puzzled and
disconcerted biologists who still don't understand what their mistake was, and what the
hell Mendel was raving about when he wrote that stuff about peas. But being gifted with
faith and endless patience they accepted this unnatural heir; now busy in home breeding of
Reptiles, now bewildered in intricate forests in far Countries whose names and dialects
are unpronounceable, now undertaking organization of improbable activities in a strange
world called the Internet.
After spending due time at Turin University studying Natural
Sciences, becoming a quite well-known amateur herpetologist, he suddendly decided to apply
for a job in a major marketing company and soon became an appreciated marketing consultant
(Does it makes sense to you an... herpetological marketing consultant?), keeping up the
good job in this and other closely related environments.
Since about six years a graceful, stoic lady of nordic heritage,
after committing the thoughtless action of leaving the cold, but comfortable St.
Petersburg to accept a wedding ring, supports the two discouraged parents wondering
whether this strange individual still bears a spark of clear-sightedness.
During the long nights spent in symbiosis with his modem, the
alien continues to plan, produce, dream, and translate in bytes his raving passions. A
late courageous attempt to interface his right temporal lobe with a router produced even
more - if possible - permanent damage, throwing in discouragement both the Board of Cisco
Systems and a certain number of hosts living in home terrariums.
There is a rumor that on some dark nights a faceless creature is
surfing the Net still looking for his lost identity. The new millennium is already here since a few years.
Is anybody going to offer me a Daiquiri ?
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I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night ...
A. Ginsberg