Like all monsters, it all shower up in he middle of the night. It was a regular Sunday when… well, I'm happy to see what happens (of course this is not entirely true, especially these days…). This is pretty silly, but it was all their idea! I don't think they are super crazy, sick, alternative, fucked-up, you know. Where do they get the information? I don't know and I don't care. I know they know… I guess so… it makes sense that you say that, but this is not something I had thought of before. From here till now, we have always been close. It could actually be anything else, there is nothing essential here. But there is a secret parade in our hometown. I'm choosing to share the secrets.
The title and the premise of the book arises as a humorous interpretation of the conspiracy theme. Being the idea of distance always present, we do not intend to support or destroy any theory but, at the same time, to do both.
"There's a secret parade in our hometown" characterises the narrative of the entire book. The object functions as a parade of theories, represented graphically, filled and consecutive. As in a parade, little is the empty space to breathe. All theories scroll visually, without any textual component supporting it.
The word "hometown" has a peculiar feature. Because it is where all theories begin, "hometown" suggests a secret and subtle character. Suddenly, "hometown" becomes a 1000 page book, which is not as discreet as one might think. "Here's what out mothers don't share" comes up as subtitle, and suggests to us the maternal figure of the mother involved in whatever conspiracy. A mother, someone whom we never associate with conspiracy, is also involved in the Parade.
There's a secret parade in our hometown
Here's what our mothers don't share