The difference between those students on the bus and in class.
Professor confesses homicidal impulses
The Controrifonne I write today in class while my students are the theme, and I
I take this opportunity for my business. From this chair, every day, I carry my small
Council of Trent (in Trent we live), with the "Protestant" in this: even today, as then, quite resolved to proclaim the "free examination", the end of authority, the report "personal" with the subjects ... The morning began on the bus: full of kids of all ages who go to school. I see faces asleep, with headphones in your ears and your mobile phone in hand, waving his fingers, frantic as the music that the drilling head. These young technology often do not have no time to turn the brain in the morning, which already fills the other. Perhaps you have fallen asleep in the evening with the television on, placed in the room, for convenience, especially parents: the facts so everyone does their own, without disturbing the family harmony. I do not think that many of them to repeat what happened to Ungaretti, when in the midst of silence, grasping a concept, an important idea: "When I find a word / in my silence / is carved like an abyss." I must say that this show irritates me sometimes early, sometimes I am frightened. Especially if you look at the face of some already tanned girl lived like a woman. There is, in clothing of many, in vulgar language, excessive make-up, something that hits my stilnovistica idea of \u200b\u200bwoman-angel. I half expect some face, still so young, bait sudden shrill voice of an old, that some of these little girls, that would have embarrassed and intimidated the Don Giovanni, suddenly be transformed, as in the paintings Bosch, in a misshapen form. I wonder, as I turned my eyes, if these guys have never heard the tales, after three years of age, or if they are passed directly to the muddy reality show, or immoral Costanzo, or De Filippi. I still wonder if these young people, so senile appearance, often with the pants that fall out, ostensibly, have never enjoyed childhood, or if someone stole it to him, all innocence, before his time.
Then arrive, and find similar faces them in class. But this time they are familiar faces, dear to me, and I can not see them as the bus. In front of them do not feel discomfort, but sympathy, tenderness, and sometimes compassion. If I think of their history, the events of their lives, I feel a man from another time, undeniably the best, of course. Only fifteen years ago, to understand, when I went to school, there was no sign of psychologists: I remember he had never seen one, not even back. Today every school has its good psychologist and tedious, the teachers with updates, courses on prevention, discomfort and a thousand other terrible problems. Courses that could be replaced by mass, by simply reading a bit 'of sound pedagogy to Don Bosco. Well, I'm watching my kids. There is a pupil abandoned by her father, still a child: easy to anger, to mood swings, "floating feather in the wind." Definitely not happy. Often talk about difficult things, which not even know that they may have to do with sex, or with amusement always the same, monotonous type. He tells me that it is customary to get drunk on Saturday night: the girls, he says, even more than the males, because the world is evolving fast. Another girl has anorexia: it is a typical modern diseases, and it seems that one cause is the lack of affection. I think his speeches, and I think I can confirm: somehow "missing" parents. Then there is a pupil, who until yesterday was very bright from just the father left the family, with those arguments out of fashion, that you can not summarize because standing. Now I see him insecure, frightened, until sloppy beyond belief.
should be continued? Just wondering if these are the fruits of the miraculous "civil rights". Yet there want to give others the abortion pill, drug free, the right to be children of homosexuals, a mother and grandmother, or two parents who are denied, even without notice, after a quarterly pacs ... I absolutely have to oppose, otherwise I might be in twenty years one of those professors who in the end, exasperated, they take a machine gun and kill their students. Only I'd go home to his parents and kill them. I'm convinced that the most equitable.
Francis Agnoli
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