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Woody Allen, a brief astrological portrait of Ciro Discepolo.

My voice is cloned by AI. The quality is excellent, however, I note that it gets several accents wrong, even some dates wrong, and often varies in volume.

It’s truly difficult to separate the drama from the comedy served up by the greatest living comedians. They primarily bring to the stage their own anxieties, which we all laugh at because we recognize our own in them, but which we prefer to attribute to others. This explains, for example, the enormous success of the Fantozzi films, especially in Germany: our German cousins ​​laughed out loud at the “Italian Fantozzi” to exorcise the fear of having to acknowledge the Fantozzian element present in each of them.
And then, I think, it’s also a self-defense effort to mask with irony the ancestral fears that lurk within us. I too am writing this on March 24, 2026, on the eve of important trials that will soon hit me.