Brexit Logs, Part 1: I am Paolo, and I’ve Broken Europe

Part 1 in a series exploring the post-Brexit fallout. I am Paolo, and I've Broken Europe.

About faults: I am suggested to write an article on these first days of Annum 0 a.B. (after Brexit), because as many know I wrote an article b.B., which, disguised as a neutral call for democratic participation, also snuck in a few jabs and jeers at our democratic authorities Mr. Obama and Mr. Draghi. I did it using Shakesepeare too. That was highly inconsiderate. So now clean your mess, whispers this invitation. You that nailed Europe. Am I suggesting that I was somehow responsible for that bloody 1.9 % of voters, a damned bunch of centurions who brought about this brisk change of Age, prompted by the worst part of a crowd? Actually yes, as I was invited to a Christian party at Berghain where, bad drinker and worse Christian, I danced wearing only baby powder, reading my article in a dead-drunk lapse of mind, and the video of that sailed joyful for some webdays before being sunk by talcum lobbies.

Behooves me now to list my faults, but not being Catholic I need a guide, and two models jump on my mind, the EU's model and the AA's. Both Alcoholics Anonymous and the EU were created to solve some big messes done in the past. AA's method is for each member to admit (not very anonymously as you spell your name) his/her individual faults, trying to overcome the shit&shame, to win a brand new smile from mirrors and from others. Some members bring Bibles, some biscuits. They help each other even outside the meetings, job search support, and always keeping in mind how slippery life is. For me this model would be even harder, being alone. No anonymous talcum dancer association.

I could opt for the EU's method, lighter in dealing with past, focused on the future: old faults are for museums and books, and monuments of course, winsome enough to steer children away toward the first mainstream alternative. And about new faults? What new faults? According to this method I could simply fill a diary, put it in a washing machine and turn to my future. I feel safer with the AA's method. I deem that if you part from your faults you maybe enter more circles but you will never be yourself. Such seems the case with the EU.

The EU, under different names, dealt with future by prompting commercial pacts between the largest interests, without calling it regulated market that would sound socialism. This is rather a higher Rotary Club, clustering the market through friendly agreements. This helped the spread of big distribution shopping centers with great prices that are perfect the perfect getaway when you must switch off the TV. This cluster segued into a financial club based on monetary harmonization. Of course that doesn't mean clean accountability or transparency for the members. Italy, to name one founder, whose first industry is called Mafia (also the hugest in Europe, about 170 billion Euro, almost 1/3 of Europe's 600 billion estimated crime's market), Italy couldn't live up to such a breach of confidence. Nor Germany could bear a bankoholic test, its main bank being just yesterday labeled by the US Treasury the most dangerous in the world. The EU adopted a Rotarian style with Swiss aplomb, protecting the golden voice of bankers with inferior shouts. Let's admit that finance, so light, transnational and stuffed with experts resembles a respectable idea of paradise, or at least a decent golf club.

Meanwhile, the Swiss paradise is receiving quite an inspection, which discovers that white Alps lie on mountains of black money. The inspection comes not from the EU—we wouldn't pester the peaceful Switzerland—but again from US investigators. Same with VW scandal: the US broke the news of the first car manufacturer. Whereas the EU is discretely allowing the main European manufacturer to recall thousands of cars.

I knew I was bad at admitting fault, I am scarce as alcoholic and worse as Catholic.

What I can say is that I feel awfully sorry, really. I didn't expect to tip the scale to this end of the good old days. It seems only yesterday, when Europe was one warm family, full of harmony and peace and great parties ... Oh no, that is Berlin. But also Europe was peaceful, ready to expel even the tiniest whisper of war out of its borders, when possible.When not, was its highest duty to remain aloof, untouched in its news by its inner scaramouches.

I was doing it again, dodging my responsibilities, wasn't I?

Courage: I am Paolo, I knew it was bad, I am Paolo and I abused Hamlet, publicly. Abused the Prince of Denmark and king of literature, using his quest to be or not to be, to suggest people to replay his choice, To be, begs the reaction, to take up arms against a sea of troubles and though opposition end them, rooting out the rotten from Denmark Kingdom, now a bit more south-centered. But peacefully of course, as Hamlet did, re­acting the reality on a stage in front of Kings.

Was I hinting that a referendum is a drama which shows the kings their own monstrosity?

Stick to your faults! I am Paolo, and I've broken Europe by dancing dead­drunk. To put it back together I would need instructions though, to reassemble what Europe was last week.

Continue to Part 2.

By Paolo Tacchini
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