Talking at length about trivial and idle matters (three-dogs for the malevolent corrector).
A popular word, idle and even a bit vulgar (for me).
In such a technological world,
no longer tendentially,
but absolutely Anglophone,
such a banal word could not really take hold.
So,
therefore,
here we are all “chatting”.
Which then,
if we stop for a moment to think,
(something that must happen every now and then),
it is blatantly obvious and decidedly more fitting
that our Made in Italy word “chiacchierare” (chatting)
is a glaring example of an onomatopoeic voice.
The unmistakable rhythmic and metallic noise of the keyboard reminds us and takes us back to the dense, metronomic gossip of chatter
between two gossips,
while industriously concocting a nice coat for the unfortunate of the moment.
Having made the difference,
let’s get to the substance.
In both cases,
both in chatting
and in chiacchierare,
we certainly don’t write like Dante Alighieri,
but it is equally certain that allegory reigns supreme.
Each phrase must be delicately weighed,
interpreted,
and also rationalized.
To this end,
here come the “smileys”
which we use like it’s raining.
Just have a magnifying glass
and the job is done,
Our face is there,
blowing kisses,
raspberries and smiles.
In return,
if we are lucky,
we collect the same kisses, raspberries and smiles…
In a nutshell,
We fire off nonsense in bursts
and not only.
It may be due to the haste,
a tireless and tiring companion of today,
may be due to the “malefic” corrector,
dictator of our saying,
that we find ourselves typing hundreds of mutilated words,
fragmented phrases,
amputated periods,
spun and transformed,
so much so that we ourselves,
re-reading what we have written by chance, sometimes hardly recognize it as our own.
Then think of the interlocutor,
victim of the same process.
In short,
a band of ungrammatical madmen,
responding to each other like in a game of ping pong,
where the roles are
only ping and only pong.
Years of logical analysis thrown to the wind,
not to mention the punctuation that I beg you to place in my writing at your leisure,
as unaccustomed to use and consumption,
as to a nice plate of pasta at lunchtime.
