The mask of Breghella
I studied in California with an aging master.
My time there was a great one for a fool.
Carlo’s friend Dario won the Nobel Prize for literature.
Carlo’s former mime partner and friend Marcel visited with his character Bip.
Carlo sat with Eugene at a cafe where he described the Rhinoceroses that were stampeding across Europe.
Carlo was from another time.
We of the late 90?
We thought he was insane.
He, citing spontenaiety jumped on top of one of the instructors.
I can’t remember his justification.
It made sense.
Madness, it seems, is more about collective judgement rather than individual experience.
Carlo wasn't foolish. Carlo was an idiot. Carlo was Brighella. Do you know Brighella?
Do you know Sylvester the Cat? Donald Duck?
Then you know Brighella.
Things just do not go his way. Ever.
Sure, these folks scheme and plan and come up with incredible ideas. These ideas always end up backfiring gloriously.
Brighella always gets it wrong expecting it to go right
Arlecchino? Always gets it right. E…
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