Blogs, Social Media, and the Cultural Growth of Public Opinion: from Montaigne to Our Time

I revisited the topic of an article I published yesterday in Italian on Money.it to write a post for English-speaking readers.

In an era in which digital connectivity has reshaped every aspect of communication, it’s worth pausing to reflect on the role that blogs and social media play in the cultural growth of public opinion. These are not merely technological tools; they are channels that have inherited—and partly revolutionized—an ancient tradition: that of individual thought opening itself to the world. A tradition that, quite surprisingly, takes us back more than four centuries to the time of Michel de Montaigne, the French philosopher whom many consider a “proto-blogger” of the 16th century. In his Essays, Montaigne laid himself bare before the reader, revealing his thoughts, fears, and idiosyncrasies. He didn’t write to pontificate but to understand himself—and, through that self-exploration, to help others question themselves as well. It’s precisely this spirit that animates many contemporary blogs: virtual spaces where writers reflect publicly on personal matters, in the hope of sparking dialogue, debate, and ultimately a shared culture. From Pen to Keyboard: The Continuity of Personal Thought

While Montaigne lived in the age of print, today’s digital world infinitely amplifies that same human urge to tell one’s story and reflect. In the end, every blog is a modern-day “essay,” written with the conviction that one’s ideas can meet, challenge, or enlighten the ideas of others. And, like Montaigne’s Essays, blogs can range from the personal to the political, from the philosophical to the everyday. Social media, on the other hand, have made this exchange even more immediate. Whereas a blog is usually a more meditative space where thoughts are structured in longer form, social media thrive on speed, brevity, and reaction. Yet even in these shorter formats, we find the same drive toward sharing ideas—what we might call the “publication of the self.” Recent Events and the Cultural Role of New Media

Take, for example, the recent European elections of 2024, which saw intense polarization and lively online debates. Independent blogs, social media accounts run by journalists, intellectuals, or everyday citizens offered alternative viewpoints, often challenging the official narratives presented by mainstream media. In some cases, these digital spaces brought attention to underrepresented issues, like youth voter abstention or the role of artificial intelligence in political communication.

Or consider the war in Ukraine, where blogs by geopolitical analysts and on-the-ground reporters have helped inform public opinion about aspects that might otherwise have been overlooked. While social media can indeed be tools of propaganda or disinformation, it’s undeniable that they also make valuable cultural contributions by diversifying sources and stimulating critical thinking. The Challenge of Quality and Critical Thinking

Of course, not everything about the digital world is golden. It’s also a realm filled with superficiality, fake news, and toxic dynamics. And here we return once again to Montaigne, who wrote in his Essays: “I do not teach, I tell a story.” A simple yet powerful phrase. Montaigne never positioned himself as an absolute authority but as a man who, through writing “en chair et en os” (in flesh and blood), shared his doubts with others. Perhaps this is the most important lesson for today’s digital world: not to replace complexity with slogans, not to give in to the temptation of always being right, but to cultivate doubt and curiosity.

Blogs and social media can indeed be extraordinary tools for cultural growth—but only if used critically: if writers take responsibility for researching, arguing their points, and respecting complexity, and if readers exercise both the right—and the duty—to verify, compare, and dig deeper. A New Public Sphere

In this sense, blogs and social media are reshaping what the philosopher Jürgen Habermas once called the “public sphere.” It’s no longer a one-way space where a few speak and many listen. Instead, it’s an arena where anyone can participate. True, this creates chaos, an overabundance of voices, and sometimes confusion. But it also offers everyone the chance to contribute to collective culture, breaking through geographical, social, and even linguistic barriers.

This is why comparing today’s digital world with Montaigne isn’t merely an intellectual game. The man who wrote to understand himself and share his thoughts four centuries ago was already anticipating the fundamental dynamic of the digital world: the construction of public opinion through personal storytelling. Umberto Eco once said of his own books that they were “a fabric of texts, a book made of books.” The same is true of Montaigne—and today, of the internet itself. Blogs and social media are, in fact, an endless conversation, made up of cross-references, quotes, links, and comments—a collective weaving of texts, images, and ideas, where each piece of content generates new content in turn. In a passage from his Essays, Montaigne pushes his reflections on reality so far that he ventures into what we might now call a “metaphysics of blogging,” offering contemporary people yet another of his extraordinary lessons:

I cannot keep my subject still. It goes along befuddled and staggering, with a natural drunkenness. I take it as it is, at the moment when it interests me. I do not describe the being; I describe the passage (…). I must adapt my story to the moment. I could change soon, not only in condition but also in intentions. It’s a record of various and shifting events and uncertain ideas—and sometimes contradictory ones: whether because I myself am different or because I view things from different aspects and perspectives. So much so that I may perhaps contradict myself, but I never contradict the truth, as Demades said. If my soul could settle, I would not be testing myself; I would be resolved. It is always in training and on trial.

In much the same way, we could say, online communication moves in countless directions, with scattered fragments connecting and transforming. Yet amid this apparent chaos lies a profound value: the possibility of surfacing new perspectives, personal experiences, and micro-stories that enrich our collective culture. Ultimately, blogs and social media are powerful tools for the cultural growth of public opinion—but only if they serve as spaces for genuine dialogue rather than megaphones for shouted certainties. And Montaigne reminds us that the true driving force of culture is curiosity, doubt, and the courage to expose ourselves without pretending always to be right. If the 16th century witnessed the birth of Montaigne’s Essays, our age has multiplied those voices a thousandfold. It’s up to us—readers and writers alike—to ensure that this incredible wealth doesn’t turn into mere noise but remains the lifeblood for cultural (and existential) growth for all.

Trump’s hat tip to citizen journalism

My latest on American Thinker.

It’s taken a Republican administration to change the crumbling media status quo in Washington.

The news that the White House is rolling out a new policy allowing opportunities for so-called “new media” outlets — independent journalists, bloggers, podcasters, content creators, etc. — to ask questions during press briefings marks a significant turning point in the history of journalism. White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt announced the move during her first briefing on Tuesday. “We welcome independent journalists, podcasters, and social media influencers,” she said. “Millions of Americans, particularly young people, have shifted away from traditional television and newspapers to consume news through podcasts, blogs, social media, and other independent platforms. It is crucial for our team to share President Trump’s message widely and adapt the White House to the evolving media landscape of 2025.”

First and foremost, the decision is nothing more than the official recognition of something that had already been in place for some time. It’s called “citizen journalism,” a term that refers to the collection, reporting, and dissemination of news and information by ordinary people rather than professional journalists. It empowers individuals to play an active role in the news-gathering process, often using digital tools and platforms like social media, blogs, and video-sharing websites.

Although “citizen journalism” is a relatively modern term, the concept has existed for centuries. Ordinary people have always shared news through word of mouth, letters, or pamphlets. For example, during the American Revolution, pamphlets like Thomas Paine’s Common Sense were a form of citizen-driven communication. As we all know, especially those who are not so young, the advent of the internet in the 1990s and the proliferation of digital tools in the 2000s revolutionized citizen journalism. Platforms like blogs and forums and social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube allowed individuals to share news and opinions widely. They become hubs for citizen journalism, especially during crises or protests. In summary, citizen journalism has transformed how news is created and consumed, making it more participatory and decentralized. Although it has its challenges, it has become an essential part of the modern media landscape. [...]

 

Read more: Trump’s hat tip to citizen journalism

My New Book Is out and Available on Amazon!

Dear Readers,

Here we go again, a new book is born. A few weeks ago, when all the chapters were already written, I just had to write the Introduction to outline the purpose, goals, and contents of the book. Which, at least as regards the contents, was not an easy task at all, since this is a book that ranges across a vast array of topics and subjects. Yet I was well aware that the contents are not what matters most, to some extent they are just a chance and an opportunity. What matters most is what certain events, facts, issues, thoughts, and feelings can teach us about ourselves, life, and the world around us. I’d say that this book is a dialogue with myself about my understanding of and relationship with life itself. Existential, political, and philosophical issues—which are frequently recurrent in the book—are functional to wider self-knowledge and self-understanding. But this is not a philosophical book, despite the many philosophical issues that crowd its pages. Nor is it a political one, despite the seven subchapters devoted to the Trump era and its implications in the political, social, cultural, and economic life in the U.S. and elsewhere.

Let’s put it this way: to me, it is always like this in people’s lives, the idea is to always go forward, to progress toward an ever better condition. And it is right that it should be so. But reality rarely matches the initial vision exactly, and often it marches in the opposite direction. Contrary to popular belief, in our times many never stop unlearning, nor do they give up rising in the hierarchy of what is contrary to the Good, the Beautiful, the Just, or simply the Reasonable. Ours are times of intellectual chaos and moral relativism, if not nihilism, and everything seems on the verge of falling apart, as the events of the recent past in the U.S. and elsewhere, in case it was needed, have abundantly shown—by the way, while I was writing the Introduction, thousands of President Donald Trump’s ardent supporters violently were storming the U.S. Capitol building, prompting evacuations, injuries, and arrests...

The whole story of Covid-19 fits perfectly into this context, to the point of becoming, at least in my mind, an effective metaphor of the Zeitgeist, which is interwoven with individual and collective pursuits, aspirations, and ambitions that are so very often ill-conceived, short-sighted, and based on false premises. Yet, such an upside-down world is nevertheless our one and only world—and it is well worth fighting for, in spite of everything. In a small way and to some extent, Blessed Are the Free in Spirit. A Journal in Complicated Times is my contribution to the fight.

Like my previous book, Blessed Are the Contrarians. Diary of a Journey Through Interesting Times, this one is a kind of diary of a journey through our time—politics, culture, lifestyles, worldviews, etc.—and back home again, where “home” stands for a deep sentiment of belonging to our own free and indomitable spirit, which is much stronger than the spirit of our times, however powerful and attractive it may be. Moreover, in this book, as in Blessed Are the Contrarians, I have selected some of the articles posted on my blog over the last few years, those most suitable for this traditional mode of communication. In other words, Blessed Are the Free in Spirit is somehow none other than Part Two of Blessed Are the Contrarians. But with a couple of differences. The first being that in this book, the “journal” entries are arranged in chronological order (from most recent to oldest), as well as by subject matter. The second is that the author is no longer exactly the same person he was when the first book came out in 2012. This for the simple reason that time never passes in vain. As Heraclitus said, “You cannot step into the same river twice.” The water in the river is never the same, it is constantly moving, so the river is never the same river twice…

One word on the title of the book. A free-spirited person can be many different things—even (at least apparently) opposed to one another rather than harmonious or compatible—because their heart is their compass, and heart has no boundaries or rules imposed from outside. When they are religious, they tend to focus on the innermost teachings and truths of their religious faith rather than the “letter” of the Scriptures—and therefore they’re often, if not always, on the verge of heresy... They do not dwell on the past but resist a progress built on the destruction of traditions that go back many centuries and of the systematic denial of our history and civilization. They are fiercely independent, but can still develop a close emotional bond with those who provide for them and look to others for protection. They deeply care about their beliefs and what they feel strongly about but seem to not worry at all—except the bare minimum—about normal stuff like money, career, success, etc.

Free-spirited people are the salt of the earth, they are not restful persons. You never relax with these people. They are inspiring and thought-provoking, challenging and uplifting, men and women at their best. They are “contrarians” in the best sense of the word. And so they are somehow a step ahead of those to whom I dedicated my previous book. Some time ago, I stumbled upon an excellent definition of that blessed kind of person: “A free spirit is not bound by this, that, matter, materialism or opinion. They sing, dance, and flow on the wind—for they are at one with it. They are nothing and everything—void and expanse. Even space and time do not confine or define them. For they are pure energy itself” (Rasheed Ogunlaru).

With that being said, please note that free-spirited does not mean self-referential, solipsistic, or selfish. Quite the contrary. It’s because they are deeply in love with Life, Humanity, Poetry, Music, Dance, Theater, Writing and so many other things that Free-spirited people are what they are—if they flow on the wind it’s because they are at one with it! If they are self-confident it’s because they have faith in life! As the French say, tout se tient (everything fits). Freedom itself is not an absolute, not an either-or proposition, but a set of relations, possibilities mixed with actualities. Likewise, freedom of spirit, which is the quintessence of human nature, is basically the fruit of a compromise, a miracle of balance and elegance. Ultimately, free-spirited people cannot but be the result of a coincidentia oppositorum (the coincidence of opposites). As the most elegant of essayists and a living miracle of balance and intellectual like Michel de Montaigne once said, “One may be humble out of pride.” Which is certainly not a good thing, but what if we apply the same scheme in positive rather than in negative terms? Well, let’s say, for instance, that one may be cheerful/ironic out of seriousness, easy-going out of severity, naive out of sophistication, and so on. Hence Montaigne’s writing en chair et en os (“in the flesh”), as well as the imperceptibly subversive turns of his sentences and the slyly ironic tone that often creeps into his Essays. That’s what free-spirited people are made up of, and why they are the salt of the earth.

By invoking blessings on the Free in spirit, I’m trying to express the feeling I feel for them, my deep admiration and gratitude for their very special contribution to mankind and society. They are my North Star, my source of inspiration, and the reason why I am what I am. I would like to think that in whatever I write there is something the free-spirited writers and thinkers of the past centuries would approve of. Likewise, I hope what I write does not displease the free spirits of our day too much.

Now, for me, there’s nothing left to do but wish you happy reading and look forward to hearing from you with any questions or comments that you may have.

Blessed Are the Free in Spirit. A Journal in Complicated Times 

Paperback Ed. - ISBN-13 : 979-8702016979 - Publication date : February 5, 2021

Kindle Ed. - ASIN : B08W2DP9RC - Publication date : February 4, 2021 

Montaigne: A 16th Century Blogger

Michel de Montaigne's library-tower

Someone says the best way to read Montaigne is by sitting under a tree along a small river, as the ancients used to do. Someone else says the only one place in which you can read Montaigne is a library, if possible one of those large 16th or 17th century libraries which adorn abbeys and aristocratic palaces throughout Europe. I personally tend to agree with the second opinion—well, lack of anything better, I think my own small library must be enough… But why in a library? Basically, for two reason.

A portrait of Michel  de Montaigne
(Painting by Thomas de Leu)

The first is that in 1571 Montaigne, at age 38, retired to the library tower on his estate in the Périgord, and that’s where he wrote his Essays. He had about a thousand books, which was a lot at the time for a private library. Inscribed on the walls and beams of his tower room were 57 maxims in Latin and Greek taken from his books. Here are some examples: “O wretched minds of men! O blind hearts! in what darkness of life and in how great dangers is passed this term of life whatever its duration” (Lucretius), “I do not understand” (Sextus Empiricus), “God permits no one but Himself to magnify Himself” (Herodotus ), “Not knowing anything is the sweetest life” (Sophocles), “I shelter where the storm drives me” (Horace), “No one has ever known the truth and no one will know it” (Xenophanes), “What man will account himself great/Whom a chance occasion destroys utterly?” (Euripides), “If any man thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Letter of Paul to the Galatians, 6), “All things are too difficult for man to understand them” (Ecclesiastes, 1).

The second is that, as it is easily understandable, Montaigne was a man of books, and, above all, that his Essays are “a textile of texts, a book made of books,” to put it the way Umberto Eco did (describing his own book) in his Postscript to The Name of the Rose.

Even to those who don’t know much about Montaigne, the above mentioned inscriptions may say a lot about the man in the tower. Now let’s try to look into this subject a bit more thoroughly, but let me say it first: Montaigne is one of my all-time intellectual heroes. Friedrich Nietzsche said of him, “That such a man wrote has truly augmented the joy of living on this earth.” I fully agree with him. And yet I think that what better reflects my long-lasting relationship with him is what another of Montaigne’s ardent admirers, Ralph Waldo Emerson, said of him:

A single odd volume of Cotton’s translation of the Essays remained to me from my father’s library, when a boy. It lay long neglected, until, after many years, when I was newly escaped from college, I read the book, and procured the remaining volumes. I remember the delight and wonder in which I lived with it. It seemed to me as if I had myself written the book, in some former life, so sincerely it spoke to my thought and experience. [From "Montaigne; or The Skeptic," in Representative Men.]

That’s exactly what happened to me, except the way I came into possession of the Essays—I bought the two volumes of them at 50% off when I was twenty something in a bookstore in Rome, which is also where, more or less in the same period, I happened to find Emerson’s Representative Men, another source of inspiration throughout my entire life, along with the other books by the same author. That is why when I happen to pass by that place I cannot help but feel the deepest gratitude (and a bit of nostalgia).

Michel Eyquem de Montaigne was a skeptic, but of a very different sort from the one we are familiar with. In fact, he was not the kind of skeptic who basically believes in nothing, who refuses to take anything on faith, who takes issue with organized religion, and things like these. Yes, he was a man who doubted almost everything, but at the same time he was a good Catholic, one who believed all that the church taught and prescribed without reservation. Strange enough, isn’t it? But, strange as it might seem, that’s perhaps what I like most about him. And yes, I know the saying is, “If ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candy and nuts, we’d all have a merry Christmas,” but—luckily or unfortunately, depending on the point of view—if we reason philosophically (broadly speaking), we cannot do without them. Shakespeare, who was perhaps Montaigne’s most famous reader and admirer—John Florio’s translation of the Essais became available to him in English in 1603—, knew that very well. At any rate, according to many scholars—but you don’t need to be a genius to come to the same conclusion—, Montaigne’s influence is clearly evident in Hamlet and King Lear, and this both with regard to the language and to the skepticism that characterizes both plays. To say nothing about the whole monologue of The Tempest, which seems cribbed from Florio’s translation of the Essais, as Sarah Bakewell pointed out in her How To Live: A Life of Montaigne in One Question and Twenty-One Answers.

Yet, as I said before, Montaigne’s skepticism is different from any kind of skepticism we are accustomed to. Take the following passage from the “Apology for Raimond Sebond” (Book the Second, Chapter XII):

It were to do wrong to the divine goodness, did not the universe consent to our belief. The heavens, the earth, the elements, our bodies and our souls,—all things concur to this; we have but to find out the way to use them; they instruct us, if we are capable of instruction. For this world is a sacred temple, into which man is introduced, there to contemplate statues, not the works of a mortal hand, but such as the divine purpose has made the objects of sense; the sun, the stars, the water, and the earth, to represent those that are intelligible to us. "The invisible things of God," says St. Paul, "appear by the creation of the world, his eternal wisdom and divinity being considered by his works."

Quite an interesting statement for a skeptic, isn’t it? And how about the following one?

Our outward and inward structure is full of imperfection; but there is nothing useless in nature, not even inutility itself; nothing has insinuated itself into this universe that has not therein some fit and proper place. [Book the Third, Chapter I]

This, of course, also echoes the great Renaissance philosophical architectures, according to which the universe is a vast and wonderful chain of relationships, from the stars to plants, to rocks, and to men. But this is no surprise, because Montaigne is, in a sense, the epitome of a Renaissance man, along with Marsilio Ficino and Count Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, while in another sense, because of his skepticism, he takes a step beyond—otherwise why the 19th century American Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson would have been such an admirer of him?

Yet, apart from his sui generis skepticism, what also amazes me about Montaigne is the way he writes about himself. Here is what he says about his being a writer:

I am not at all ambitious that any one should love and esteem me more dead than living. The humour of Tiberius is ridiculous, but yet common, who was more solicitous to extend his renown to posterity than to render himself acceptable to men of his own time. If I were one of those to whom the world could owe commendation, I would give out of it one-half to have the other in hand; let their praises come quick and crowding about me, more thick than long, more full than durable; and let them cease, in God's name, with my own knowledge of them, and when the sweet sound can no longer pierce my ears. It were an idle humour to essay, now that I am about to forsake the commerce of men, to offer myself to them by a new recommendation. I make no account of the goods I could not employ in the service of my life. Such as I am, I will be elsewhere than in paper: my art and industry have been ever directed to render myself good for something; my studies, to teach me to do, and not to write. I have made it my whole business to frame my life: this has been my trade and my work; I am less a writer of books than anything else. [Book the Second, Chapter XXXVIII, “To Madame De Duras”]

But perhaps the greatest secret of his success—and the main reason why this 16th century writer is still alive and well—is that, as William Hazlitt put it, “In taking up his pen, he did not set up for a philosopher, wit, orator, or moralist, but he became all these by merely daring to tell us whatever passed through his mind.” In his Essays, says Sarah Bakewell,

[H]e wrote as if he were chatting to his readers: just two friends, whiling away an afternoon in conversation. Montaigne raised questions rather than giving answers. He wrote about whatever caught his eye: war, psychology, animals, sex, magic, diplomacy, vanity, glory, violence, hermaphroditism, self-doubt. Most of all, he wrote about himself and was amazed at the variety he found within. “I cannot keep my subject still,” he said. “It goes along befuddled and staggering, with a natural drunkenness.” His writing followed the same wayward path.

In other words, we may well say that he was a blogger before blogs existed, a 16th century blogger! Perhaps even more enlightening in this regard is the following passage from Book the First, Chapter L:

The judgment is an utensil proper for all subjects, and will have an oar in everything: which is the reason, that in these Essays I take hold of all occasions where, though it happen to be a subject I do not very well understand, I try, however, sounding it at a distance, and finding it too deep for my stature, I keep me on the shore; and this knowledge that a man can proceed no further, is one effect of its virtue, yes, one of those of which it is most proud. One while in an idle and frivolous subject, I try to find out matter whereof to compose a body, and then to prop and support it; another while, I employ it in a noble subject, one that has been tossed and tumbled by a thousand hands, wherein a man can scarce possibly introduce anything of his own, the way being so beaten on every side that he must of necessity walk in the steps of another: in such a case, 'tis the work of the judgment to take the way that seems best, and of a thousand paths, to determine that this or that is the best. I leave the choice of my arguments to fortune, and take that she first presents to me; they are all alike to me, I never design to go through any of them; for I never see all of anything: neither do they who so largely promise to show it others. Of a hundred members and faces that everything has, I take one, one while to look it over only, another while to ripple up the skin, and sometimes to pinch it to the bones: I give a stab, not so wide but as deep as I can, and am for the most part tempted to take it in hand by some new light I discover in it. Did I know myself less, I might perhaps venture to handle something or other to the bottom, and to be deceived in my own inability; but sprinkling here one word and there another, patterns cut from several pieces and scattered without design and without engaging myself too far, I am not responsible for them, or obliged to keep close to my subject, without varying at my own liberty and pleasure, and giving up myself to doubt and uncertainty, and to my own governing method, ignorance.

Let us be inspired by Montaigne, and continue to further the good work which he began!

Et Tu, Google? (A Little Help for Blogspot/Blogger Users)

And so Google, the owner of Blogspot/Blogger, has crossed the Rubicon of good manners by deciding to play a nasty trick—to say it as politely as possible—on bloggers outside the United States: now if you click on windrosehotel.blogspot.com (and any other blogspot.com blog) from your non-U.S. country, instead of the blogspot.com domain extension, you will see your country specific domain extensions. In the last few days, this change had been rolled out in India only, but over the last weekend the practice seems to have become general. This redirection is called “country-code Top Level Domain” (ccTLD).

Why are they doing this? This is how they themselves explain their decision:

We are doing this to provide more support for managing content locally. If we receive a removal request that violates local law, that content may no longer be available to readers on local domains where those laws apply. This update is in line with our approach to free expression and controversial content, which hasn’t changed.

Of course, there are immediate and unpleasant consequences of this “amazing trick,” such as the fact that, in Google’s own words,

After this change, crawlers will find Blogspot content on many different domains. Hosting duplicate content on different domains can affect search results. We are making every effort to minimize any negative consequences of hosting Blogspot content on multiple domains.

Did you get it? If we receive a removal request… Et tu, Google? Well, perhaps this is what the future holds for us. Be it as it may, a fix must be found for this… and I actually found it by surfing the net. To disable the “country-code Top Level Domain” you simply need to add a little code to your blog template. Just follow six simple steps… Believe me, it works perfectly!

The Versatile Blogger Award

As a Nobel Prize winner recently said, “Prizes are always a nice thing. It doesn’t change the research per se, of course, but it’s lovely to have the recognition.” Well, er, mutatis mutandis, this could apply to me, too… In fact last Thursday, a talented young lady from India—a country I deeply love and which has always inspired me—was kind enough to nominate me for the Versatile Blogger Award. Of course it’s an honor for which I am truly grateful. But mostly I like the idea that this recognition comes from a young blogger from the other side of the world. It just shows how small this world has become…

Yet, as the old saying goes, “there is no rose without a thorn,” that is, in this case, since life is full of rules and regulations—and the Versatile Blogger Award is no exception—there is no prize without rules. And since I wouldn’t disappoint my kind and generous friend for anything in the world, I’ll take upon myself the burden of the rules (even though only in part, as I will explain later), which are the following:

1. Thank the award-giver and link back to them in your post.
2. Share 7 things about yourself.
3. Pass this award along to 15 recently discovered blogs you enjoy reading.
4. Contact your chosen bloggers to let them know about the award.

Now, since I already thanked my friend, and since the rule number 4 is my own business, only the rules number 2 and 3 are left:

7 Things about myself

1. The first thing I think of when I wake up is listening to radio and tv news reports.
2. My favorite smell is that of bread baking, which, as I once heard, “like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight.” A reminder of my childhood, and, in my humble opinion, one of the greatest aromas on earth.
3. My favorite place to relax is along the seaside, watching sea-gulls and listening to the sound of waves washing up the shore.
4. The animal I would most like to be is a seagull. I like the way seagulls fly as much as I love some of their typical habitats - such as, for instance, the Cliff of Moher in Ireland and the Côte Sauvage in Brittany. Moreover I love the sea, any time, in any season, in any latitude, as every seagull is supposed to do.
5. I have always been a strong believer in the Power of Words. They can build up and just as quickly tear down. How we speak says libraries about who we are and what we believe.
6. My most beloved movie is Howard Hawks’ 1959 Rio Bravo, with John Wayne and Dean Martin
7. The last thing I do before falling asleep is read at least a page of the Bible.

Passing this along to other bloggers

This is the most difficult part of the task… You know, how to make a choice between dozens of bloggers I am dealing with everyday? How to avoid hurting someone’s feelings, or annoying someone else? Because bloggers sometimes are such touchy and/or lazy people! That’s why I decided to limit the range to just two categories of bloggers: the most frequent commentators and contributors on WRH, and some  recently discovered bloggers I like very much. But they (unfortunately or fortunately, it depends on the point of view) are not 15 but only 6. Here they are:

• Diana Stevan 
• Someday Somewhere 
• The Metaphysical Peregrine 
• Viewfinder 
• Kitty’s Pitara 
• News from Italy

A Rare Encore

A couple of quick updates to my previous post on the 150th Anniverary of Italy’s Unification.

1. Valerie, at 2 Baci in a Pinon Tree, has a good post and interesting links to other bloggers’ views—including my own (grazie!)—of the same event.
   
2. Rome Opera House. It is very rare that a conductor concedes an encore for an opera chorus, and even rarer is asking the audience to sing it, but this is exactly what Riccardo Muti did on March 17, 2011 with the famous “Va, pensiero” chorus sung in the third act of Verdi’s Nabucco. Here is the video (the quality is not that great but it gives you an idea):

Whether blogging is a waste of time or not

Is blogging a waste of time? Yaacov’s answer is,

All of which is to say that I ought to blog less. Blogging is so intensely a matter of the moment, so irrelevant two days later, that it has to be a waste of time. I’m not saying I’ll stop, but I ought to.

As for me, I think you can guess what my answer to this question is. First of all I blog a lot less than many hyperactive bloggers—well, I might justify myself by saying that I don’t believe in quantity, but this might sound presumptuous, and that’s why I prefer to say that I have a lot to attend to… Second, this is “a war blog,” not my random thoughts and whine blog, if I may say so myself, I mean it’s—right or wrong—against something and for something. There are so many things worth fighting for! How could I give up the good fight?

However, I couldn’t agree more with Norm when he says, “I’m struck by the ‘all of which’ that frames this, though. For it refers to... the histories of Venice, Florence and Jerusalem!”

Yes, Venice, Florence and Jerusalem. Yaacov, in fact, has just come back from Italy:

We started in Venice. A place like no other I've ever seen. Created after the fall of the Roman Empire, the town flourished for a thousand years as a republic while the rest of Europe went through the Middle Ages. It was easily one of Europe's largest towns, doing a roaring business sitting astride the lines of commerce between Europe and the East. It was a hard-nosed and stern place, not to say cruel, and it's goal was to be rich. The accidental discovery of America was partly the result of the search to find a way around Venice as the middle-man of trade with the East; it worked, though not in the way anyone foresaw, and Venice spent the 17th and 18th centuries magnificently living off its accumulated wealth. Napoleon ended it in the 1790s, and ever since it has been essentially a tourist attraction, no more.

For all its longevity, splendor and uniqueness, it's hard to think of anything of lasting value that it created, except for the city itself.

From Venice we went to Florence. Technically older than Venice by many centuries, Florence compressed its historical role into a few centuries, most famously the Fifteenth. Yet what a role it was: a small town that would fit easily into southern Manhattan took human history and diverted its direction. Not in one field - say, the ability to represent reality in art - but in many. The Florentines redirected literature, and art, and science, and philosophy, and the art of governing - and banking, too, though the bankers are a bit unpopular lately. They invented the Renaissance, those Florentines, and that lead to the Enlightenment, and to Capitalism, and Democracy, and Socialism, and Fascism, and Communism and Nazism... and if you think the present war between parts of the Islamic world and humankind isn't a direct result of the fact that some folks followed Florence and others didn't, well, I don't know why you come to this blog.

Well, now I know why I came across that blog, which unfortunately I didn’t know about until just now, and why its author ought not to stop blogging!

Italy vs Google

Bad news, as you probably already know, from the front line of Italy’s contemporary fight for freedom: three Google executives, charged with defamation and invasion of privacy, were convicted by the court of Milan for failing to prevent publication on the search engine of a video that showed a boy with Down’s syndrome being bullied by four students at a Turin school. The video was posted in 2006 on Google Video, a now-defunct service that Google ran before it bought YouTube.

The news is very shocking. First of all in itself, and secondarily because this is the first criminal action taken in Italy or elsewhere against Google managers for the publication of content on the web.

The significance of judge Oscar Magi’s ruling, according to assistant public prosecutor Alfredo Robledo, who was acting for the prosecution with public prosecutor Francesco Cajani, is that “The right to conduct business cannot prevail over the dignity of the person.” “At last, a clear word has been spoken. At the heart of this trial was protection of the individual through protection of privacy. Everything else is beside the point. I am confident that this ruling will go out from the court of Milan and finally provoke discussion on an issue that is fundamental,” Robledo added.

So they seem to want to basically “educate” someone about something. “Strike one to educate one hundred,” as the old Leninist motto goes? Nah, even though many Italian judges and prosecutors, especially in Milan, are left-leaning and with a communist background, this is not the case—educating is one of the tasks of Justice, after all. But one might be tempted to argue that perhaps the ones who need to be educated are the prosecutors and the judges. Why? Let’s call Google’s spokesman to speak:

“It is an attack on the fundamental principles of freedom on which Internet is built”, said Google’s spokesman, Marco Pancini. He added that it would be appealing “against a decision that we view as surprising, to say the least, since our colleagues had nothing to do with the video in question. They did not film it, they did not upload it and they did not see it”. According to Mr Pancini, the three executives have been held “penally responsible for illegal activities committed by third parties”. He said that during the proceedings, the three executives “had shown courage and dignity, since the very fact that they were put on trial is excessive”. Throughout the trial, Google has maintained that responsibility lies with whoever uploads a video to the web. For Mr Pancini, “if this principle is abandoned, there is no possibility of offering services on internet.”

In fact, the concept is very simple and straightforward: if we don’t accept the principle that responsibility lies with those who upload a video “there is no possibility of offering services on internet.” Therefore, the ruling by the judge, Oscar Magi, means that YouTube—along with the many websites and hosting platforms which offer user-generated content—cannot continue to do what it has always done. It’s totally, absolutely absurd. Imagine if every Facebook user, as well as every blog owner, could be hauled before a judge for comments, videos and pics left on their pages/blogs by other users! We had better give up blogging, facebooking and twittering as soon as possible…—Ok, comments here are moderated and need my approval before posting, but I can afford it because of the size of my blog, but what about if I were to face 500 to 1,000 comments per posts?

Needless to say, the video was disgusting. But, the criminals here were the ones who committed the assault and filmed and posted it, and they have been brought to justice already, not Google. Google, in turn, had taken the clip down within hours of being notified of it by Italian police, and that’s why it has nothing to be blamed for, unless you think that a failure of clairvoyance and an inability to time-travel have to be included in the category of crimes.

Yet, Luca Sofri, the author of one of Italy’s most popular blogs (no comments allowed …), says that Google and other Web-sharing platforms have a responsibility for what’s posted on their sites: “As Spider-Man says, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Allowing freedom of opinion does not mean you can be a platform for people to defame others or violate their privacy.” Well, it must be said that Luca is almost as lefty as the judges and prosecutors of Milan. But he partially redeems himself by adding that he suspects that the sentence may also be seen as an example of how out of touch Italian political leaders and magistrates are with the massive changes in the way information circulates online: “They are judging the Internet with the same instruments of the past. The Web creates situations that are completely new and don’t have paragons with the world before. If these incidents are happening all over the world and Italy is the only country to condemn Google for it, maybe there’s something we haven’t understood.”

The Greatest Among You

“But he who is greatest among you shall be your servant.” This famous statement by Jesus has been adopted by Steven Dexter, a longtime friend of this blog, as the leitmotif of his new blog, whose title echoes the motto itself: The Greatest Among You. In fact the new blog is about Service.

“My intention—wrote Steven in the first post—is to create an environment that will be used by organizations that use volunteers, the volunteers themselves, charities, churches, or anyone that is reaching out to help people that are distressed. […] I want this to also be a place where organizations that need some help can post what they do and what they need.”

My best wishes to Steven, and may God bless this praiseworthy initiative.

Thank you

Yesterday the winners and the final ranking of the finalists of the 2008 Weblog Awards were announced by the organizers. Wind Rose Hotel didn’t win in its category, but I’d like to thank each and every one of you, anyway, my dear and loyal readers, for taking the time to vote for me. I really appreciated your support and, in many cases, your personal encouragement.

However, believe me when I say that having been a finalist was great reward in itself. During the days of voting this blog had thousands of new visitors from all over the word, dozens of new links pointing to it, and as many new subscribers to its feed. In other words, I am very happy to have participated in such an important competition and I like to thank the organizers who made all this possible. It was a great experience!

Best European Blog

I got the news a couple of days ago that my blog had been named as one of ten finalists for the Best European Blog (Non UK) category in the 2008 Weblog Awards.

This was totally unexpected but highly welcomed! In fact, the Weblog Awards are the world’s largest blog competition, with over 500,000 votes cast in the 2007 edition for finalists in 45 categories, and in the past I have perused them over the years to discover some great blogs to add to my blog reader. So I am both stunned and honored to be considered worthy of inclusion in the list of finalists for the Best European Blog.

There is a small window of opportunity for readers to vote for their favorite nominees (January 5th through the 12th). I have added a direct-link badge in the right sidebar to make it easier for you to vote.

Voting rules:

1. You may vote once every 24 hours in each poll.
   
2. After voting in an individual poll you will be locked out from voting again in that poll (on the computer you voted from) for 24 hours.
   
3. Each poll has its own separate 24 hour lockout control. Voting in, for example, Best European Blog will not lock you out of voting in other categories.
   

Needless to say, I would be very grateful and honored if you would consider voting for me ...

TocqueVille, per favore ...

Qualche giorno fa c’è stata una discussione interessante (si può far riferimento a questo post) tra bloggers di TocqueVille circa i rapporti tra blogosfera e “casta” (politica e giornalistica, espressamente del centrodestra). Personalmente condivido la pars destruens di entrambi gli interventi.

Ieri Enzo è tornato a parlare di TocqueVille, e non posso che dargli ragione. Il caso in discussione è quello di Rod Blagojevich [... continua a leggere]

Più che lo sdegno poté il disgusto

Christian replica, ed anche stavolta a buon diritto, Luca invece no, almeno finora, ancorché chiamato in causa, lui stesso, dal Travaglio Quotidiano, che non ha esattamente una predilezione per chi lo contesta, soprattutto in ragione di semplici fatti, ai quali risulta ogni giorno un po’ più allergico—verso quali agognati traguardi il refrattario sia diretto, di questo passo, questo non è dato sapere, benché mi sentirei senz’altro di escludere quelli letterari, anche del genere fantastico (che è una cosa serissima). Ma l’astensione, in questo caso, sarebbe d’obbligo, almeno secondo ciò che mi detta il mio (personalissimo, per carità) senso della decenza. Se avete voglia di approfondire seguite il link riportato dal post di cui sopra: io non lo metto, questo è certo. Più che lo sdegno poté il disgusto.

A ciascuno il suo (Travaglio quotidiano)

Certo, Christian si difende da sé—dal Travaglio (Marco) Quotidiano—e restituisce con gli interessi, come si conviene. Ma se Luca gli dà una mano, in punta di penna e col bello stile che gli fa onore, la cosa non guasta, benché il parlar sia indarno (a determinate latitudini etico-deontologiche, ove il desso alberga e donde lancia malamente i suoi strali avvelenati). E qui, per certo, si approva e sottoscrive in toto. Amen.

Qui Nuova York ...

Oggi Camillo imperversa nella blogosfera. Una serie di post interminabile, di cui due da non perdere. Uno è un breve rimando a una cosa di Paul Berman, blogger per l’occasione, in cui si parla di un certo Bill Ayers, il quale pare che sia da gran tempo “l’uomo più stupido d’America,” politicamente parlando, è chiaro, oltre che uno scomodo “vicino di casa” del candidato democratico alla presidenza degli Stati Uniti (quest’ultimo detto anche “The One,” per chi ancora non lo sapesse). L’altro è un commento (domani sul Foglio) sul terzo e ultimo dibattito tra Obama e McCain. Questo lo cito abbondantemente qui di seguito. Dimenticavo, oggi il Foglio inaugura anche la sua “versione catodica.” Inutile dire che è sempre di Christian Rocca che si tratta ... [continua a leggere]

The new Blog Roll feature by Blogger

I have just installed the new Blog Roll feature by Blogger. This cool new tool to link to other blogs allows Blogger users to have a sidebar with up-to-the-minute updates on their favorite blogs with RSS and Atom feeds, so that the most recent post's title and a little snippet (by choice) are displayed. See here for details. There is also a very clear help video to walk people through adding and configuring a Blog List.

Tim Blair has moved

Tim Blair has shifted over there (to “the shiny new Daily Telegraph site”). Hat tip: Wog Blog.

Al blogger disperso

Nessuno, che io sappia, ha mai scritto un requiem per i blogs scomparsi. Né ho voglia di farlo io, ma un cenno, malinconico, mi sembra giusto farlo. Panta rei, certamente, però prenderne atto non è mai uno scherzo. Vai a sapere le storie, magari pure complesse, inestricabili. Creare un blog non è difficile, difficile è mantenere l’abitudine per anni, per questo molti mollano e, insalutati ospiti, lettori e scrivani spariscono nel nulla.

Oggi mi sono deciso a dare un’occhiata al blogroll—dopo un po’, lo confesso, perché il tempo è sempre maledettamente tiranno e uno non si può permettere di tenere dignitosamente aggiornato il proprio blog e nello stesso tempo di essere assiduo con quelli altrui, almeno noi che teniamo famiglia, un lavoro e una marea di cose da fare per tirare la carretta. Ebbene, che cosa ho trovato? Un’ecatombe. Quindici in meno, spariti nel nulla—due, addirittura, sono diventati “privati,” pensate un po’…, se ci penso mi vengono i brividi: il Web può perfino diventare un luogo “de noantri.” Teoricamente, chiaro, si sapeva già, ma poi vedere la messa in pratica … Altri, infine, talmente ripiegati su stessi e i propri famigli da non potersi più annoverare tra i titolari di blog pubblici. Wow, non mi ci raccapezzo. Eppure chissà quante buone ragioni, quante storie, appunto.

Volevo solo dire che ho cancellato … ciò che non c’è più. Ma solo per non immalinconirmi in futuro, cliccando verso il nulla, oltre che per offrire elenchi veritieri, cioè non fasulli, ai visitatori. Un pensiero commosso ai vecchi tempi, in ogni caso, mi sembra doveroso. Finché l’oblio non avrà fatto la sua parte fino in fondo, un posto nella memoria, per voi amici, ci sarà. Promesso.
God bless.

Salvate il soldato Luca ...

Ma no, ma dai che lo sai che non è vero ... (e sperando di essere ancora in tempo!)