Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Mai? Sempre.
Via Real Clear Clickbait:
Lamborghini. Just saying the word conjures up images of supercars and the life of luxury as only Italy can supply it.
Luxury? Italy? First thought: Luxury isn't a good word for stuff that doesn't work.
Second thought: How would I know? I've NEVER owned anything made in Italy. Delving back through memory, I can't spot one item. No cars, no radios, no clothing, no books or magazines, no food.
Food with Italian names like minestrone and spaghetti and zucchini and broccoli, certainly. Nearly everything I eat has Italian names! But no food actually made there.
I've always been a geography nerd, so I've always been conscious of where things are made. I like to think about places and imagine how an object carries the flavor or feel of a place. Most of the imagining is pointless and wrong, but nevertheless it's an innate universal.
Italy is purely alien.
WHOOPS!
As I was writing this, I was looking at the monitor and keyboard part of the time, then as usual glancing over to the right to think. Here's what I see when I'm thinking.....
Olivetti. So I'm COMPLETELY UNFAMILIAR with Italian things EXCEPT for all the food I eat, and EXCEPT for this thing that occupies my field of vision half the time. Jesus.
Olivetti. So I'm COMPLETELY UNFAMILIAR with Italian things EXCEPT for all the food I eat, and EXCEPT for this thing that occupies my field of vision half the time. Jesus.
Labels: coot-proofing
¶ 10:22 AM
