SPECIAL REPORT: Election Day – Italy

Once again I find myself stumbled into a completely surreal moment in space and time outside the bright yellow ‘Romano Prodi Presidente’ truck and they’re playing ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ – I’m back in college on an acid trip, but this crowd surely looks more upbeat than one block back at Berlusconi Headquarters.

Could this be the final changing of old guard or more of the same old bullshit? Whoever we end up with will be a broken man – beautiful but useless the same as all these other loafers with their dark hair and naïve brown eyes and perpetual five o’clock shadows.

One man, everyman – goes double for the women. Fini’s the hottest candidate though. The wind blows by the cameramen, always in navy blue with their power (impotence?) to reveal all on their shoulders while satellite men sit passively behind the scenes quietly turning little dials.

It is always the same, so why do we keep finding ourselves at these places? The Pope died, etc. No excuses now: you love watching the fray and standing behind news shots staring off blankly into space behind the imbecile correspondent, smiling at camera and sounds wryly edging out the corner of the mouth.

Arafat’s death – remember that one? – eating ‘bizer’ with the Al–Jazeera TV crew outside the ‘muqata’ and laughing behind the CNN chief international correspondent on live news – reminded me of the Ulster County Fair, cow shows and pig races and the house of mirrors especially…Prodi’s supporters definitely sexier than Berl’s.

Author’s note: while writing this in Rome’s Piazza S.S. Apostoli in front of the Olive Coalition headquarters on the day of the Italian Parliamentary election, they stole my wallet.