When I write in myself, I have full power on my own, so I oblige him to put sharp and heavy, signed and signed, fine and forest. Within me the commands of the old school “long long ago is exacerbated” and “Macron Pre -Short Draws” sound like a mining of a lost past. But I allow myself all its lukewarm Greek writingas it was self -evident for many centuries. Knowing, of course, that in the last forty years my fellow citizens are enough to have a single tonic sign that is unstoppable with whatever word you give it. And assuming that younger ones, and only aesthetically, will consider this Baroque decoration unnecessary.

Until a few days ago I was surprised to take the e -mail of a young poet written with the polytonic system. Each line was also a jardiniera with all the richs of the old Greeks. I phoned him to find out if it was a personal quirky or perhaps a wider movement to restore the discount of tones. The young poet disarmed me. It is, he told me, a symbolic act of resistance to the sovereignty of easy, superficial, bore. He has therefore installed polytonic on his computer and fights daily with the keys to properly sharpen and found.

It was January 1982, when a dragon of MPs who had left until that time voted an amendment on a bill on entrance exams at the universities, imposing the monotonous system. Those who usually speak to the unbreakable continuity of history and the nation have ratified the split of the history of Greek writing. And now the students are frightening when they see only ancient text. Of course, this reform was shown as the sunrise of a new era, an era of lights. They had taken care of the bands of that time in advance to persuade politics. Because their studies showed that monotonous would save countless hours of work. The advertising of the decision was undertaken by “enlightened” educators who over time imposed the worship of convenience as an ideal learning.

And now what do we ask for after so many decades that people have been doing fine and without tones? It is the symbolic rebellion of the young poet who does not let us sleep. Yes, then, in the progressive deification of convenience and the Raston, let us indulge in reverse hard work. Let’s write back to bastard, let’s glorify the dyes again. Let us go down the streets by claiming not the reconstitution of the old in education, but the restoration of the labor.