Word: rome
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Italiana (R.A.I.), the state broadcasting monopoly. Taking advantage of a lack of regulation, new stations have mushroomed. At present, 385 private stations are battling with R.A.I. and one another for the attention of the owners of Italy's 15 million TV sets. There are 31 stations in the Rome area, twelve in Milan and eight in Turin; even smaller cities have their own stations...
Though some of the private stations offer classical music and good sports coverage, much of their programming consists of game shows and films, both of which seem to be dedicated to proving the pulling power of porn. When Telefantasy in Rome offered the American sex epic Deep Throat (which is banned from Italian moviehouses) on three successive evenings last January, the city all but came to a standstill while the show was on. When a Rho station, Telereporter, advertised for amateur strippers, dozens of housewives and students applied. Despite howls of protest, including a complaint from the city...
Among other recent freelance porn offerings, Rome's station PTS (for People Television Service) put on a special called Nude on Parallel Bars, featuring a nearly naked girl giving a passable imitation of Olympic Star Nadia Comaneci. Telefantasy currently stars a 23-year-old student whose job is to writhe suggestively on a bed in a baby doll nightie while listening to a male voice on the radio reading excerpts from sex novels...
...amount of advertising they can carry. Meanwhile there are signs that, after the porn wave, the next new rage on the tube may be politics. Italy's main parties have already established a foothold in TV, mainly through ownership by newspapers allied with them. Thus the fare on Rome's newest station, called Videouno, might be expected to be red rather than blue. The station, which will begin test operations this week, is owned by the daily Paese Sera, a supporter of Italy's Communist Party...
...Kill Me by William H. Hallahan (Bobbs-Merrill; $7.95). New Jersey-based Hallahan, 52, a former adman, won his Edgar with a thriller that scurries from the lower depths of Manhattan to the higher reaches of Washington, D.C., and Moscow, with a side trip to the underside of Rome. Its main sleuths, a burnt-out CIA agent and a doughty Immigration official, set out separately to solve the mystery of the disappearance of a minor Russian poet whose scattered dactyls are the clues to a major East-West confrontation. A masterpiece of bamboozlement, Catch Me is a kind of catch...