More Than Meets The Eye

Jean Giraud / Moebius (1938 - 2012)

Le Bal (Limited Edition Serigraph print, 2002)

Jean Henri Gaston Giraud (known by his nom de plume, Moebius) passed away one year ago today in Paris.  He was one of the last Franco-Belgian illustrators of the bandes dessinées tradition -- literally, "drawn strips" -- whose most famous member was Belgian artist Hérge, the creator of 'TinTin'.

Giraud began his career in the 1950's, where he created, together with writer Jean-Michele Charlier, a daily strip and eventually full-fledged comics about Lieutenant Blueberry, a U.S. cavalry officer; Alan Delon meets the Old West.  Occasionally, he would illustrate  other Western tales Charlier developed outside the Blueberry story line -- which Giraud would sign "Gir".

 Original first page of "Missip[p]i River", 1967; 

Giraud's artistic style echoed pen and brushwork of American and

British comics in the mid-1960's (Click on image to enlarge. Easy! Fun!)

In America, the artistic style of mainstream comic illustration was bounded by DC Comics (Superman, Batman, Justice League) or the more recent Marvel Superheroes, and alternative-but-still-mainstream publications like MAD Magazine  -- specifically the pen-and-ink artist Mort Drucker.  Comics in the UK likewise had developed a distinctive style that borrowed from DC or Marvel, but also rooted in British-only comics like Bingo.

Comparison of styles between American Mort Drucker (left)

and Giraud's work in the mid-1980's on Blueberry (right).

Drucker used a nib pen, and was more inclined to caricature;

Giraud was a realist who favored brushes and Rapidograph technical pens.

In the Counterculture of the middle Sixties to the mid-70's, America's 'Underground' comics developed their own artistic styles far removed from those of DC or Marvel. They were a Fuck You delivered to America's Puritan cultural traditions around sexuality and materialism, first, and only secondarily an attempt to push the boundaries of illustration. It would take the development of graphic novels, and the work of American artists like Chris Ware, Lynda Barry, Charles Burns, the Brothers Hernandez and Art Spiegelman to change that.

Meanwhile, in Europe, artists like Giraud saw their medium as dominated by America's "Superhero" format, and hidebound with traditions established before the First World War.  More than in America's underground comics, European illustrators were producing images influenced by the 'psychedelic revolution' -- expanding personal consciousness to touch the Universal; having experiences which provided glimpses of 'other', alternate realities.

 Jimmy Hendrix's Psychedelic Lunch (Virtual Meltdown, 1976)

The most accessible, commercial version of these visions was exemplified by Peter Max -- his colorful deconstructions of reality were simple, beautiful; but not too complex or ambiguous for the viewer.  It didn't really challenge their preconceptions of reality, just enhanced them in a non-threatening, cartoon manner -- as in Yellow Submarine.

In 1974, Giraud joined two other French artists -- Phillipe Drullet and Jean-Pierre Dionnet -- and a businessman, Bernard Farkas, forming Les Humanoïdes Associés (The United Humanoids), to publish a quarterly magazine of cutting-edge 'adult' illustration, Metal Hurlant (literally, "Screaming Metal").

Metal Hurlant, Issue No. 1, December 1974 (Wikipedia Commons). 

The first issue was released in December, 1974, and included work not just by Giraud and Drullet but included work by American Richard Corben. Later issues would feature another American cartoonist, Vaughn Bodé (creator of Cheech Wizard, and Junkwaffel), along with Brazilian Sergio Macedo, Swiss artist Daniel Ceppi, and the Dutch illustrator Joost Swarte,whose work carries on the traditions of the bandes dessinées and 20th-century Dutch design (Swarte's work appears heavily influenced by Herge's TinTin). 

Not in Mort Drucker's style: Before the first Star Wars,

Giraud was creating pen-and-ink aliens in France's Metal Hurlant.

This 1975 illustration, 'The Usual Suspects', shows some Moebius standards -- 

Arzach [center, back row], Major Grubert [second row left, in spiked helmet],

and Malvina [second row, far right, with rifle] of The Airtight Garage;

and Giraud [front row, right], with glasses (Click on image -- yes; for the Fun).

Metal Hurlant published stories with science fiction or fantasy themes -- the most natural channels for this new imagery.  But Giraud's work was so singular and unique that it took the reader / viewer into places where space, time, and scenery twined around each other: Part Oz, part Yaqui Way Of Knowledge, and part comic strip.

Giraud's major illustrated works include Arzach, the adventures of a humanoid with a tall hat, who rides the back of a creature like a prehistoric Pertodactyl through landscapes that resemble Bryce Canyon, or the mountains of Morocco. Like the rest of Giraud / Moebius' creations, there is spare dialog but no sound effects; Arzach's world is starkly beautiful, populated by strange beings and amazing beasts, but often silent.

First episode of Arzach; Metal Hurlant, 1975-76

(Click On Image to Bigger Buh Buh Buh Bleep.)

In the episodic "Airtight Garage of Jerry Cornelius", Giraud presents a world existing in different dimensions, like interlocking computer simulations, each of which can be accessed if you know the secret passages. Each lower level is unaware they are part of that chain, yet still affecting (and affected by) the others. 

 Major Grubert, guest of the Wascally Wabbits and their Big Crystal Skull.

(Clickety Click Click Click.)

Major Grubert, an agent for the first level, is trying to thwart a plot to unify all levels. A resident of a lower level, Jerry Cornelius, appears to be central to the plan; Grubert keeps looking for but never quite catches him, all the while threatened by conspiratorial forces, wacky rabbits, and The Bakelite.

Grubert survives an assassination attempt while meeting an agent

in a crowded 2nd level bar (The Airtight Garage, 1975)

The Incal was an episodic story written by Alejandro Jodorowsky, with a group of adventurers moving through an Oz-like universe, batted about over the fate of the Light Incal and Dark Incal, crystals of enormous power.

 The Incal, volume 4

(Clicky-Clicky)

(Note:  Moebius and Jodorowsky sued Luc Besson, director of The Fifth Element, claiming that the film used aspects of The Incal in the script without permission; they lost the suit.)

Giraud's last major works were Inside Moebius (titled in English for the French original), and 40 Days dans le desert B (Forty days in desert B).  Inside was several volumes of autobiographical writing and illustration.

Moebius' perception of Disney's effect upon culture:

The Wrath Of The Mouse (Click To See Larger Horrible Mouse)

"Forty Days" depicted a number of Giraud's themes about the effect of our consciousness on the world around us. The meditating traveler in 40 Days certainly does that.

I began looking at Giraud / Moebius' work in 1975, when the company which published 'National Lampoon' began reprinting Metal Hurlant in the United States, with English translations, as Heavy Metal. I was stunned at how good, how imaginative it was -- incredible, rich, detailed and sure; there wasn't a sense of hesitation in a single line.

The worlds he created were complete -- from its architecture and equipment, to strange little creatures or background flora, down to the rubbish in the street. It was like looking at sketches, made while on vacation in another dimension, which Giraud had brought back to show us.  And it wasn't a terrible or totally unfamiliar, nightmarish place. Even the incredible events he depicted seemed completely comprehensible, given where we were. They were places that vibrated with a sense of adventure and amazement.

And the best art does that -- surprise and amaze; show us something we only dimly and incompletely saw, like furniture in a dark room. That kind of art literally brings some new thing into the open, and changes how we perceive the world, and what's possible in it.  Moebius' work did all of that.

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This is Your Universe, Too

Just Look At It.

© David Morrow: Milky Way Galaxy From Mt. Rainer, 2012; a submission to the

Smithsonian magazine's 10th annual photo contest (Smithsonian.com --
click on image to see a larger version - easy and fun!)

 
This is where we live -- in the Milky Way Galaxy, as seen from near Mt. Rainer in Washington State, United States of America.

This is where we live -- not as Muscovites, or Berliners or San Franciscans, Beijingians or Mumbaians, Sydneyites or Brazilianzers. Not as members of a political party, or Volvo owners, or speakers of any specific language. Not as graduates of name-brand universities versus carrying a GED certificate.  Not as members of any specific racial or cultural group; not as Americans or EU citizens, Chinese or Urdu, Spanish or Quebecois; Gay or Straight, Vegan or Carnivore. We live in a larger room than that.

I'm the last Dog who needs to be reminded of the immense problems we face as individuals, as a species; and most of them self-created.

I believe that with a different perspective on who and what, and where, we are -- something fundamental could begin to change for us. That continues to be my hope.

But, I'm only a Dog, and no one listens to me. I can still look up, though, and see.

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Repeint Heaven: Debt Ceiling Russian Roulette

(June Of 2011: The Rethugs hold us hostage, again, to their hairy-chested, tiny-penis vision of the world, where the wealthy are given treats and everyone else will receive the fabled Pie In The Sky, after we are dead.)

(Make Social Security into a New Casino! Make the HCA into a Giant Privatization of Medicare! Austerity for everyone! but especially the poor.)

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Fear Hunter

Something about the game of 'Debt Chicken' being played out between the Rethugs, and the Democrats (Aber Ganz Ohne Rücken), reminded me of Michael Cimino's 1978 film The Deer Hunter -- which included a long sequence where Robert DiNiro and Christopher Walken, taken captive by the VC/NVA, are forced to play Russian roulette (see the whole clip here at UTub).

The idea of someone being forced to play a game that involves putting a gun to the country's head, just for hysterically stupid political posturing, was an image I couldn't get rid of...

Mehr: This post is based on one, small part of an earlier creation by Max Udargo, which you should definitely see here. Max is the creator of Burton & Jefferson, and Peterbuilt Nixon, and is a much funnier dog than I am.

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Friday News: Bush Fails To Save Brother

Man Falls Into Sinkhole
(As seen on CNN)

 (Cibble News Network) -- "The ground just swallowed him up."

A Florida man fell into an 'economic black hole' that opened suddenly beneath the bedroom of his suburban home, calling out to his brother for help as he fell, a fire department spokeswoman said Friday.

"I heard a loud crash, like the economy failing after almost a decade of deregulation and a lack of enforcement," the man's brother, Jeremy Jeb Bush, told CNN affiliate WFTS. "I heard my brother screaming and I ran back there and thought it was Osama bin Laden, or our mom's Beautiful Mind, or something. My old lady turned the light on and all I seen was this big hole, a real big hole, and all I saw was his mattress."

Bush frantically tried to rescue his brother Bush, standing in the hole and digging at the rubble with a "Chang, The 3,000-Year-Old Warrior" lunch box, until police arrived and pulled him out, saying the floor was still collapsing.

"I thought I heard him holler that he'd been lied to by his friend Dick, and that I should help him by runnin' for President in 2016," Bush tearfully told  reporters.

But rescuers can't go into the hole to check -- it's too dangerous. Authorities say they worry the hole is still spreading and the economy house could collapse at any time.

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Reprint Heaven: The Best Benign Neglect Money Can Buy

How Icons Treat Icons

[This, From 2010.]

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You Don't Know Whether To Laugh at The Folly Of The Rich,
Or Weep At Level Of Neglect. Or Both.
(Screencapture: NYT Online, 2/13/10; Photo: Tony Cenicola)

Peter Max was one hip guy, once upon a time. I actually thought he was dead, but, as it turns out, he's not.


Peter Max At An Exhibition Of New Work, 2008

A charmed player in the Lottery of life in some ways, though: Born Max Finkelstein in Berlin, he and his family were able to escape in 1938 (if they hadn't -- well, let's say Yellow Submarine would have had a greatly different appearance). They fled to Shanghai, China, and in 1948, to Israel. Eventually his family moved to the United States, and young Max started a career as a graphic artist -- a very, very successful career.



Max's work produced classic Pop-Art images -- vibrant, primary colors; mirror-image split scenes; graceful gradients of complimentary tones as background to high-contrast shillouettes.



Max's art helped to visually define the Sixties (more than any of Warhol's copy-and-paint-over repetitious imagery), and even people born long after recognize what historical period Max's work represents -- like Klimt's paintings help define fin de siècle Vienna and European culture before World War One; or the work of Monet defining Impressionism; or Grant Wood's American Gothic image creating an icon for a quintessential America.


Two Vic Moscoso Versions Of Left Coast Psychedelic Pop: 1966-67

His art for the animated film Yellow Submarine became synonymous with the Beatles, with sitar music, the Revolver, Magical Mystery Tour and Sgt. Pepper albums; Twiggy; Carnaby street fashions; Peter and Gordon and The Who; John Steed and Emma Peel (!) in The Avengers; Patrick McGoohan shouting, "I am not a number; I am a free man!"; The Rolling Stones, and the rest of the British invasion.

Max's work was trans-Atlantic, New York art world Psychedelica -- it was new, but echoed roots in Art Noveau and packaging design. It was sophisticated but commercial -- as opposed to the grittier and more experimental Left-Coast, Haight-Ashbury, Acid Test, Avalon and Fillmore posters; Buffalo Springfield, Jefferson Airplane and The Grateful Dead; Sproul Plaza sit-in, Whiskey-A-Go-Go, and Rolling Stone sort of psychedelic culture.



Needless to say, when you produce nearly archetypal, iconic modern images, and you're halfway intelligent about the business side of art, you can do well: Peter's loaded. And he knew that he wasn't only creating art, but a Brand: None of his reproduced work from the 60's and 70's appears without his Peter Max© logo.


As a Creative Guy™, I support that: You Go, Peter.

(Max's work inspired other graphic artists, font creators, clothing designers; I've always believed Moebius (aka Jean Giraud), one of the finest illustrators to come out of the Sixties and Seventies, was heavily influenced by Max's art.)


Temps - Jean Giraud ('Moebius')

However, being a Creative Guy™ doesn't exempt Max from acting like a common, garden-variety rich guy. The New York Times recently carried a story about a collection of thirty-six Corvettes -- many of them classic rarities -- which Max had purchased in a block from another wealthy collector in 1990.

Max had intended to paint the cars and, probably, sell them -- a classic 1964 'Vette (worth a good bit all by itself) would have had its value, uh, enhanced by an original Peter Max-designed paint job. And for Max, it would probably be a hoot 'n a half to apply his design concepts to the shapes of a vehicle -- something he had already done with his Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud in the 1970's.


Max's Painted Rolls, Parked In Front Of An L.A. Gallery, 2007

The Corvette was the creation of Harvey Earl, a design engineer for the Chevrolet division of General Motors, and named for a fast, maneuverable naval warship. It debuted in 1953, and (depending upon whom you talk to) either is still produced today, or lost its classic status to overproduction and design changes in the late 60's.



I'm not a car guy (though I've had a Guy's standard fantasy of buying a junked unusual or neglected brand or model, and restoring it). But like Max's art, for me the Corvette is also part of what defined the Sixties -- Route 66; the Beach Boys; the West Coast, Sandra Dee - Endless Summer; days at El Capitan, or Refugio Beach; El Cajon or Venice. Santa Barbara, and State Street on a Summer night, or the Sunset Strip in L.A., cruising with the top down while the push-button radio plays I got sunshine / On a cloudy day...


George Maharis And Martin Milner In Route 66:
And They Walked Off / To Look For America

Max's Corvettes went into a storage garage in Brooklyn; Max moved on to other things, and the Corvettes sat... for twenty years -- apparently without cleaning, or being set up on blocks, or having their engines and drive trains protected from atmospheric effects. Convertibles were left open; cats apparently nested in some (you can see fresh paw-prints, and older ones under layers of dirt, in the photos) and the upholstery suffered. The paint jobs of each car, some of them original to the vehicles, slowly oxidized and bonded with layers of grime. Tires deflated, and the cars settled to rest on their rims.


The Rarest: A 1953 Corvette, It's First Year Of Production,
And One Of Only 300 Manufactured... Nice Goin', Peter.
(Photo: Tony Cenicola, New York Times Online)

Seeing the photographs of these cars in such obvious state of neglect was... well, saddening. For Max, they were like paper or canvas; something to stretch a vision upon. But they're also a kind of art on their own. For me, and others, they're iconic in other ways -- among other things, a symbol of time passing, that people in my crowd (and me, personally) are aging, now; and one way or another how much the past is present in our memories.


(Photo: Tony Cenicola, New York Times Online)

Recently, the Times reported, Max moved the cars from the Brooklyn garage to a secured parking area in upper Manhattan, as he "considers a new idea to clean them up and repaint them". I think they belong with others who may have the attention span of a larger mammal, and financial wherewithal to restore and properly garage these automobiles.


(Screencapture: NYT Online, 2/13/10; Photo: Jenna Stern)

It may be foolish to think of caring for these cars as a way of respecting our collective national past, and our own personal connections to memory -- but, I'm only a dog, and no one listens to me.

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Reprint Heaven: The Thing That Would Not Die, Episode XXXXVIII.2

Silvio!! On The Comeback Trail

Little Silvio Berlusconi -- Oligarch; lover of women Horndog; corrupt politician (who last week described bribes as just a cost of doing business; what's the big deal?) -- is attempting to push his Italian Pene del Europa Party (or whatever it's called) back into power in Italian elections held this past weekend.

You need to understand:  Berlusconi's return into Italian politics after being indicted on charges of bribery and misuse of office is the functional equivalent of squeezing Elliot Spitzer, Robin Williams and Richard Nixon together in one pint-sized package.

Load him up with hormone treatments, hair plugs and plastic surgery, and you have Silvio Berlusconi. Put Silvio!! in office as the Prime Minister of Italy and you get an EU Clown Show, coupled with the highest official in the nation treating Italy as an extension of his personal business empire.

At the moment, the election returns reported give Italy's Center-Left parties a five- or six-per-cent edge over Berlusconi's Rightist party -- so the Return Of The European Horndog may be postponed until his political allies in the Italian Parliament can provoke a new election cycle.

Here are a couple of items from the past to provide some context for the Freakshow we may have to witness:

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Berlusconi Attacked By Cathedral 

(December 13, 2009)

No; It's Not Simon Pegg In Star Trek (A Bit Old, For Simon)
-- It's The Capo d'Buffoono Capo! (UK Mirror, 11/13/09)

Earlier today (tonight, in Italy), Silvio Berlusconi, 73-year-old Prime Minister of the Republic of Italy and Chief Clown of the European Union, appeared at a political rally in Milan when he was struck by the Duomo Cathedral which borders the square where the rally took place.


Milan's Duomo Cathedral Of The Maria Bambina, Which Is Being
Held For Questioning By Italian Police After The Surprise Assault

Berlusconi, whose reign as Primo Penis L'Italia has been threatened by a series of sex scandals, alleged mafia connections and criminal charges of bribery and money laundering, had appeared at the rally in a local hotel, but was continually heckled by onlookers. Even though he was the only person in the room who happened to have a microphone and a really large public-address system, Silvio! had to spend some time shouting them down.

While exiting the building, Berlusconi had been slowed, walking through a crowd of people, shaking hands (for any other head of state, taking that kind of risk is unheard of), when he was attacked. Obviously bleeding, he was whisked to a local hospital, reportedly having suffered broken teeth, a fractured nose, and various contusions and cuts, but was otherwise still able to have sex (after a fashion) with women forty-five years younger than himself.



(Screencaptures: BBC Video Footage, December 13, 2009)

The 623-year-old Cathedral which struck the Prime Minister was thrown by Massimo Tartaglia, who had gotten close enough to the Capo de Tutti Frutti in the crowd as he left the rally. That Tartaglia (who reportedly "has a history of mental problems") was able to get so close to a major European political figure to carry out the assault is troubling to Italian authorities.

But, even more astounding is how Tartaglia was able to reduce a gigantic, Gothic-style building to the size of a paperweight, and throw it, striking Berlusconi in the snout (probably had been between the thighs of some-a young girl not long before, eh?).

How the huge stone building was then returned to its normal size and position without being seen by anyone is unknown, as Tartagliga was immediately seized -- which raises the spectre of a wide conspiracy.


Italian Authorities Consider A Connection Between The Cathedral,
And Another Architectural Feature With Time-Travel Capabilities

"We have not ruled out aliens from space, or time travelers, using futuristic technology to injure our beloved Silvio," an anonymous source in Berlusconi's security detail told the BBC.

It is also not known whether Massimo is related to the Tattaglias in the Godfather saga ("Sonny hit Bruno Tattaglia at three o'clock this morning"), and what this may mean for Diane Keaton, James Caan and Al Pacino.


Bruno Tattaglia: "Scotch? Pre-War -- Or, A Little Strangling?"

The Duomo was ordered by Italian police to remain in place in Milan and not to attempt to leave the city. In an exclusive interview with the BBC, the Duomo claimed it had never met Tartaglia before and that it had been quietly hosting an evening Mass when it was picked up and swung at the Prime Minister.

"I am innocent", the Cathedral told the BBC. "It's true -- I don't like the immoral and disgusting acts by which the Prime Minister has besmirched his office. But I have never, ever caused harm to anyone, except witches, and Protestants, and a whole bunch of Jews." The Duomo has asked for Papal lawyers from Rome to be present during further questioning.


Silvio's Own Television Network In Italy, Providing Unbiased
Coverage Of The Prime Minister's Glorious Reign Over What's Now
The Theater Capital Of Europe (Photo: UK Guardian 11/09)

[Okay; if you haven't figured it out, or don't follow the links I handed to you: Tartaglia allegedly struck Berlusconi in the face with a souvenir model of the Duomo cathedral. The symbolism is obvious and even amusing -- and no, I'm not going to explain it to you.]

While his popularity ratings remain above 50 per cent, Berlusconi's hold over his office may slip as the result of poor life choices and too much bouncy-bouncy. Dogged by rumors of connections with the mafia as a Billionaire oligarch; publicly romping with women (which led to a messy, continuing public divorce from his second wife); and after a law granting him immunity from prosecution as Prime Minister was overturned earlier this year, Silvio! may be the first leader of Italy in several generations to be convicted of criminal acts while in office.

Silvio's own television network and newspapers continue to broadcast a campaign of positive reports about him (he is reported to like dogs and enjoy life), but many Italians dismiss them as obvious propaganda. Basta!

Then, there is Berlusconi's former pay-for-play mistress, Patrizia D'Addario, who recently published a tell-all autobiography about the Buffoono's inner circle, and their sex life, entitled "What You Require, Mr. Prime Minister".


The Oligarch Minister and a Simple Italian Prostitute Girl

It seems that she saw her chance for opportunities, attention, money, and more money in her relationship with Silvio!; but even if some of her alleged details are incorrect, he is still the married head of the Italian government and was still committing adultery with (at least) D'Addario in a relatively public fashion -- not to mention whispers about the 18-year-old Silvio was seen hanging with after D'Addario smeared him in the press, which seemed one way to thumb his nose at the world (I don't give a rat's ass what you think!) -- ho ho ho; that Silvio!!.

Even his own handlers are stumped by what to say about the public backlash towards their Capo's antics. Asked about the assault, Berlusconi spokesman Paolo Buonaiuti told CNN, "There has been such a buildup of hatred toward the premier, and this is not good... This campaign of hatred has been building quite rapidly recently, and I am not surprised that what happened tonight took place."

Doctors at the hospital in Milan have indicated that CAT scans of Berlusconi's head show no abnormalities, but want to perform additional tests to be certain.


Silvio's! Physicians: Shocked by the assault -- except Dottore Tano
Carridi (At Right), CAT scan director, who wanted extra Pet Treats.

The physicians also agreed that he has Un Poco Pene, then showed scans to reporters and cleaning women on the night staff before blowing off the remainder of their shift to eat Pasta Pesto, or play with catnip bags in the shape of the Pope.

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See Naples And Divorce 

(May 9, 2009)

73-year-old Silvio Berlusconi ( Silvio!! ) is a flamboyant, corrupt mover and shaker who has been able to control most of Italy's major media, its largest banking and insurance group, and a major soccer team, and to operate an investment company whose funding sources are impossible to trace; there have been allegations of drug-money laundering and Mafia connections.

And Silvio has become the country's Prime Minister. Three times. He's worth some $9 Billion US, and has his own Center-Right political party, "The People Of Freedom". Berlusconi pushed his way into Italy's political scene and was successful only because he's been able to create a Center-Right (mostly Right-wing) coalition to run the country. Italy is a Parliamentary system, with Silvio forming a majority coalition to run the nation from the fractious jumble of its political parties.

The country has had over 50 governments since 1945. It's hard for a Parliament to accomplish anything for The People when the central government goes into the food processor every six months or a year -- and anyone who can form a relatively stable governing coalition can be a very powerful figure. Silvio knows it. And, like any egotistical greedhead global businessperson, he's going to take advantage of his position, and of the country's potential for instability, to increase his personal, uh, 'leverage'. Hey; it's a dog-eat-dog world, right? (As a dog, I take real exception to that, but we'll let it go.)

Italy is also a nation which has included Mussolini's daughter and several Porn starlets as members of its Parliament (most famously, La Ciccolina, former wife of [con] artist Jeff Koons), and which has theme restaruants and unrepentant speakers trumpeting the good old days of fascism. But for Berlusconi, beyond government, Italy apparently exists to provide him with many personal financial opportunities, fine living, and babes. Oh, that Silvio!

Silvio's second wife, 43-year-old former actress Veronica Lario, has had enough and wants a divorce. They've been married 19 years, since Silvio divorced his first wife to marry Veronica after seeing her (then a 24-year-old performing on stage) for an hour one night.

"It was love at first sight," Silvio said. "[Veronica] has been a perfect wife. She's never embarrassed me."


La Fascisti Silvio! and Lil' Boots toast La Dolce Vita

Pity the reverse isn't true, but so what; who cares? He's Silvio! The past ten years have seen a number of pathetically typical scenes, where Berlusconi publicly parades and spends private bouncy-bouncy time with leggy supermodels. He even installed two of them as Cabinet ministers in his government. Ah, that Silvio!

After the last of these, Veronica demanded Berlusconi publicly apologize. He did -- and it was a stage-managed publicity event spun by the media he owns. Not bad, eh? Humiliate your wife, and turn it all to a political advantage! Ha ha ha -- Silvio!!!

What put Veronica over the top was Silvio's recent attendance at a girl's 18th birthday party in Naples -- the daughter of a friend; his attentions -- not altogether neutral or paternal -- gave some the impression that Mt. Vesuvius wasn't the only thing smoldering.

Italians shrug and wave a hand; it's what happens. Aah, so what? It's such good theatre; it's got everything -- operatic passions, greed, envy, the wealthy lusting after barely legal teenagers. Not like he can't afford to buy a few Indulgences, eh? The Pope is a bastard Tedeski, it's true, but those Germans are practical, and Silvio can charm fish from the ocean, that one.

But, let's not be so hard; he's Silvio!!. A buffoon with cash; one of the super-wealthy who happen to be the head of state -- and see nothing wrong with boffing a few young women, bending his country's laws (easier to do when you run the country) so he can wet his beak a little, eh? And a few bribes, some threats; hey, you can't make an empire without spilling a little red wine. Life's a banquet, and Silvio is right there, cutting in line and elbowing others out of the way to get a little more.

Berlusconi is what happens when people, cynical and disgusted with the antics of their politicians, lose any real interest in government. They're all corrupt; they're all inefficent; you can't fight Tammany Hall. Ultimately, someone like a Berlusconi appears -- flamboyant, voluble; tough-minded, who enjoys the pursuits of a man. Huey Long meets the Emperor Augustus.



The Leader both plays off the People's cynicism, and feeds it. They claim to be a fresh wind of change who speak for The Little People; at the same time they treat the country as a private feeding trough, which only reinforces the idea that Government is unreliable. Ideals? Just advertising slogans. They dye their hair in what (for a 73-year-old) is an impossibly dark shade and parade with women a quarter of their age to prove to anyone they are potent and powerful.

This formula of crony patronage and power is older than recorded history, a country kept in constant political turmoil while its assets are acquired, traded, sold or leased. And as the one at the top of that small crowd of oligarchs who benefit, the Leader, Capo tutti del Capo, enjoys his relatively brief time at the top of the pyramid. Because those persons almost exclusively focused on the acquisition of power and material possession are, of course, the highest expression of the human species.

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Silvio !! Chapter MCMXXXXXXLVII: The State Is ME! 

(October 14, 2011)

Government By Commedia del Arte

Silvio! Salutes -- Himself, Of Course

To me -- and I don't think I'm alone -- one hallmark of These Days™ we're living through is the slow, steady erosion of things based on illusion, and lies.

The financial Bubble was spun out of caviar wishes and champagne dreams; it was a manipulation of each stage of the process from real estate sales to loan origination to the packaging of CDOs and pushing them on investors, by rentiers -- persons who

play no productive role in the economy themselves but who monopolize the access to physical assets, financial assets and technologies. They make money not from producing anything new themselves, but purely from [possession] of property (which provides a claim to a revenue stream)... (Wikipedia).

For the past three years, for some, this has become clearer. To other people, that same dawning clarity is threatening on a visceral level, an aberration.

This has been a global game, and in Europe, the results are the same -- political, corporate and financial illusions are beginning to come apart like the legendary cheap suit. And nowhere has the Illusory State been more pronounced than Italy, where a working Center-Right coalition in its Parliament has given the country its longest-lasting, most stable government in fifty years.

However, "stable" is a relative term. Silvio !'s government has been marred by accusations of corruption (expected in Italy, which has been a Kleptocracy on some level for centuries) and mismanagement, which Berlusconi's coalition was supposed to change.

Unfortunately, that coalition was brokered by a narcissistic Oligarch, pompous and vainglorious -- the Latin version of Sad Vlad The Putin: Silvio!

And unfortunately for Little Silvio, after besting his detractors and enemies and remaining the Prime Minister of that near-failed state, now the world's financial crisis is coming home -- to live with his people.

Not Silvio -- he's a bunga-bunga billionaire; personally, he'll be very comfortable. The Italian people? Not so much. And that could spell the end for Little Silvio's reign as the Clown Prince Of the European Union.

From today's New York Times:

In his narrowest escape yet, Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi barely survived a confidence vote on Friday, saving his government from collapse but leaving it all but incapable of legislating effectively.

With 316 votes for and 301 votes against, Mr. Berlusconi’s center-right coalition won the vote. But it failed to secure a solid majority, making it increasingly difficult for him to pass legislation aimed at protecting Italy from Europe’s sovereign debt crisis. Had he lost, Mr. Berlusconi would have had to resign, marking the end of an 18-year political era in which the billionaire businessman shaped Italian politics in his own image, entwining the country’s fate with his own.

...the Berlusconi government was now hanging by a thread and could fall at the next bump in the road — when enough disgruntled lawmakers from within Mr. Berlusconi’s coalition calculate that they would be safer jumping off a sinking ship rather than staying aboard and risking drowning...

Since 2009, the European debt crisis has felled governments in Ireland, Portugal and Slovakia, led to early elections in Spain and a cabinet reshuffle in Greece. So far, Mr. Berlusconi has proven to be a tough outlier — not least because the European Central Bank in August agreed to buy Italian debt. But the bank did this in exchange for promised structural changes that the government has not yet carried out, a mix of tax increases and changes to the pension system...

This week, opposition leaders — and the president of Italy, in an unusually strong statement — told Mr. Berlusconi that surviving a confidence vote was not the same as governing... the center-left opposition has repeatedly called on Mr. Berlusconi to step down.. [and] repeatedly accused Mr. Berlusconi of buying the votes of would-be dissidents within his own center-right coalition.

On Friday, Mr. Berlusconi was saved by loyalists who prefer to have the government limp along rather than fall and potentially be replaced by a group of nonpolitical technocrats with a mandate to carry out the structural changes including tax increases, changes to the pension system and a growth stimulus bill now deadlocked in Parliament.

Foreign investors and many of Italy’s business leaders hope for such a technical government, but lawmakers have resisted out of fears of losing power.

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