................................................................OLIVIERO BEHA.................................................
“that's the death, love” 

I will talk about mass media as (almost) always, a bit because it is the matter I know best, but also because, more and more, communication (deemed as the way to bring about information and publicity together) shows to be the nervous system of that big boy, all but wealthy, that the planet is.  
I want to talk about this matter mainly because in September we had confirmation of a data which made a strong impression and has suggested many considerations: at the “stock exchange” of communication the title draws the most is also the most definitive, that is simply the death.  
This is a word I will put inside inverted comma, to give a so private meaning and at the same time so public word immediate semiologic cross-references, here it is: the “death”. Last year it happened the traumatic death of Lady Diana, followed by the death by consumption of Mother Teresa of Calcutta, canonized in life- her own life, I mean -. At the laicism and faith height, two funerals have been translated, in a few days and with different doses but in a tendentially alike way, in the media spectacle of the two funerals, into a pastiche of deep emotions for contrabasses  and violins, for prima donna attitudes and spirituality differently combined.  
I have already written something about that on these pages. And now it is the turn of Lucio Battisti, the most famous and main music artist  of the sixty and seventy, since twenty years rigorously retired, without neither appearing nor becoming manifest, dead of a liver tumour in a trice on the first days of September. Also for him it has been repeated the media “roundabout” of mourning, obviously on the opposite side - but complementary - respect the visibility of Diana (I avoid the references to Mother Teresa, even if the charitable saint is swallowed by the mechanisms of the producing process of the “media death” merchandise the same way the other two).  
The matter I want to reason at is right this 'process'. The question, expressed in the most gross terms are possible, to hold it, could be exactly: why death is sold so well (on newspapers, television, radio, internet), and further more, as I mentioned above, why nowadays it seems to be the “merchandise” that has publicly more appeal on public and masses, more than any other life manifestation (even enclosing sport e cinema)? In brief why , for a communicator, an advertising agent, an information operator, there is nothing better than a “prominent death” (mockery of language) and obviously the following funeral? I would identified first an 'external' reason and an 'internal' one for the planetary scene- even if in the case of Battisti it concerns an Italian “death”, the same holds true-: what is outside, that is what is visible in the (in) civilization of the image, is given by the rituality of the death.  
 

Someone dies instead of us, spotlighted thanks to the renown of his life, it extracts us from the risk individual existence, makes us being present at a collective Greece tragedy ( or at Christ's Calvary) but not as passive at all viewers, but rather as 'living' walk-on, a detail that maybe is not regardless at all...- We are on the scene of the amphitheatre  ( or crowded on the Golgotha way) “ shot by television”, meaning  it  literally or figurative, whatever.  
It is the maximum we can reach in the reproducibility and technique times, applied to this irrelevant mere nothing that is death - that is the end of life, of the life spectacle... The inside, what is not visible, the crucial  psychological aspect that makes death and funeral two unreachable moments as “media merchandise”,  it, I believe, refers to the attempt, insensate as far as gross, to “elaborate mourning through television” or any other mean of communication involved.  
We are clearly humans beings to whom the sense of life slips more and more, and consequently that of death, simply removed. It remains the undelayable need to live together with the death, when it touches us a lot or a little, when it is near or far, to elaborate mourning even if we don't know anymore how to do it, an ignorance which leaves us in a hollow that trends to an abyss.  
The mourning for the Lady Diana's death ( or the mourning for Battisti, the lady D. of ours as it has been immediately noticed) and the most profaned (the public has never been left 'out of the temple' before as it happened in the case of Lucio) sacredness of the representation of his funeral enters the hollow of a collective elaboration, a planetary one, that is at the same time an opportunity for a furthermore massive and spectacular removal, consumed with the same charisma of all the rest, but powered and raised to symbol.  
It starts a mimesis and methexis packed together like a present ready for the television spots, an imitation and emulation desire which shudders the planet, since it is interested the nervous system of the co-owner: in brief, “it is the press, love”, translated into “that's the death, love”.  
Heaven help us... 
 
 
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