Eight minutes, That song is almost eight minutes long. And that's how long it took George Floyd to die with a Minneapolis officer's knee buried into his neck. That's a long time. That's how long he begged for help and said he couldn't breathe. The arresting officer's response was nothing but silence and wait. Then he had no pulse and still it went on.

That goes out to Seattle, to New York, to Miami, to Atlanta, to Chicago, to Dallas, to Philadelphia, to Washington, to Los Angeles, to Asbury Park, to Minneapolis, and to the memory of George Floyd. May he rest in peace.

As we speak, 40 million people are unemployed. 100,000-plus citzens have died from COVID-19, with only the most tepid and unfeeling response from our White House. As of today, our black citizens continue to be killed unnecessarily by our police on the streets of America. And as of this broadcast, the country was on fire and in chaos.

Bruce Springsteen Volume 5: American Skin SiriusXM channel E Street Radio (Ch. 20)

Il due giugno in Italia è la Festa della Repubblica. Un giorno che è solitamente pieno della retorica patriottica che stomaca gli internazionalisti. Ma in fin dei conti, un motivo per festeggiare questo giorno ce l'abbiamo anche noi: è pur sempre il giorno in cui la nostra gente ha deciso di salutare per sempre la feccia regnante. Troppo tardi e troppo educatamente, ma l'ha fatto. Io e Davide oggi non festeggiamo la Repubblica, il nostro tricolore acido è una parodia: festeggiamo la cacciata di un Re.