Art is a universal language, it is not an heirloom to be quoted for her outer beauty. Any artwork hide emotions, the beats, the author's breath. For this reason, in this work I expressed myself through a novel and not through an ordinary news story.
In this, disturbing novel, “Last act of an idealist”, I wanted to express my extreme resentment towards a brazenly corrupt judicial system in relation to historical events and dramatic, ie, a case concerning the murder of a songwriter of the past, not in the back in “Sanremo Festival 1967”, a case was wrapped, mystery, how they want, shamelessly, to make us believe, but in hypocrisy forced really shameful, that is unprecedented in human history.
The so-called mysteries are nothing but alibis adopting TV and newspapers, to cover obscenely truth, wrapping the human minds in a collective ignorance cage.
Before all that, I am convinced, indeed I am sure, that they are precisely the true artists, with their emotions and their dreams, the only humans to express life in this world of “zombie”, helping people to see, or rather, to restore sight to the blind, and why not, to clean this filth generated, as well as a respectability ambiguous brazenly, by easy profits and money.
Mario Bartolini (Author)
