Gianluca Drago
Well-Known Member
I wouldn't even know where to begin explaining this photo to someone who doesn't speak Italian. This is the outside of a small monumental cemetery — monumental in its own modest way — of a village unknown to most maps, carrying all the dignity that comes from its purpose and its history.
"Le grandi maialate," the words on the plastic banner (an advertisement for a nearby restaurant), are barely translatable in their vulgarity. It evokes images of great gorging on pork, or of things that happen in the shadows of a brothel. How this restaurant ever obtained regional endorsement, spelled out in black and white on the sign, and permission to display itself in front of a cemetery is beyond me.
When you have maggots feasting on your innards, you know something has gone wrong.

"Le grandi maialate," the words on the plastic banner (an advertisement for a nearby restaurant), are barely translatable in their vulgarity. It evokes images of great gorging on pork, or of things that happen in the shadows of a brothel. How this restaurant ever obtained regional endorsement, spelled out in black and white on the sign, and permission to display itself in front of a cemetery is beyond me.
When you have maggots feasting on your innards, you know something has gone wrong.

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