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(Sicily) under the Bourbons SICILY IN STEP WITH EUROPE


innovative models. Prof. Raffaele: "Even after the Restoration, active in the social field"

do not need a radical review. Needs only to look through the eyes of the historic Bourbon period to understand that in terms of the assistance that was not Sicily the backward region where the most common stereotypes we have become accustomed. Indeed, "the first species Bourbon period, that of reformism, follows in the footsteps of the great principles of enlightened Europeans. In the field of, There is a strong tune with the reality of Europe and at times an acceleration, an advance, "says Silvana Raphael, professor of modern history at the Faculty of Education, University of Catania.

models are quite innovative for its time: "In the eighteenth century in Sicily and Naples open the Great Hotels of the poor, which are factories for the poor who are removed from the street and put in a position to work on the model of work houses of the Elizabethan age, "says the professor, a scholar of that time and author of essays on family, society and the status of women.
"A second element is the focus on women's mirata pur sempre al controllo sociale e a un concetto che collima con quello di onore, non soltanto siciliano ma europeo. Era infatti problema avvertito il passaggio di patrimonio, che doveva essere certo e sicuro. Per questo il padre doveva quindi non avere alcun dubbio quel figlio fosse suo. Di qui la necessità dell'assoluta fedeltà delle spose e lo stigma della prostituzione, che viene nettamente distinta. In questa logica, si aprono i conservatori della virtù, dove a tutte le donne ospitate viene insegnato un mestiere. A Catania ce ne saranno nove».

Segue la stessa impostazione la nascita delle «giunte dei figlioli proietti, primo esempio di struttura di tipo centralizzato per l'assistenza all'infanzia abbandonata». Una situated in Palermo, Sicily in several other. The 'benefit' is not just wheel out the note from the monasteries, used to entrust their unwanted children to remain anonymous. "The City pays the baby food up to five years for males, then gets a job, and directs the girls to conservatives. The wheel of Catania, in twenty years, from '40 to '60, he received almost 10 thousand children, of whom 83% died, 'says the teacher.
After restoration, the Bourbons continued a wide-ranging social, this time on the French model. "The primary school became free: not required because they could not force poor families to deprive the arms work. Comes a secondary school system that provides not only high schools and colleges for scholars, but also professional schools around the new emerging professions, diplomats, military etc. Sicily was a short in perfect harmony with Europe, "says Raffaele.

Shortly thereafter, in 1877, in "The peasants in Sicily," as Sidney Sonnino describe the condition of the child-care facilities: "The class of so-called gentlemen's hand all the municipalities, and also handles all money for charities [...]. The show becomes even more painful if local authority, we turn to consider the charities and conditions of public charity in Sicily. The mountains frumentarii sono diventati quasi dappertutto un mezzo nelle mani degli amministratori per esercitare l'usura per conto proprio e su più vasta scala [...].Le Opere pie sono considerate in genere dalla classe che le amministra come un campo che deve sfruttare per suo proprio vantaggio. Per gli onesti sono un mezzo di influenza e di favoritismo; per i meno onesti una sorgente di facili lucri e di illeciti guadagni».

Orazio Vecchio, 28 DICEMBRE 2010

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're semi-serious reasons to hate Christmas

A Natale diventano tutti più buoni. Io invece divento più cattivo del solito. I motivi?
Primo, l'obbligo di andare a far visita ai parenti – anche quelli più odiati – e si rispolverano le prozie baffute, bisnipoti antipatici, proto-cugini pluri-laureati con lode acquisiti and godparents who stink of aftershave: they are ugly, unpleasant, they spit when they talk and they want a kiss on the cheek, not just a pat on the shoulder, say, a handshake. No, they want the kisses. Fuck you, I have not chosen and do not want to see you, migrated to Kamchatka.
Second, bastard custom of giving gifts to EVERYONE. One gives you a key that does jingle bells when you open the door and you feel obliged to reciprocate. Fuck you, you presents only a few people and give something that does not become trash after 15 days!
Third, probably the charity that you Christmas is barely pay for the damage that leads to Christmas consumerism environment and peoples of the third world.
Fourth, if you receive a computer, an IPAD or digital camera for Christmas, READ THE INSTRUCTIONS decerebration damn, can not spend the rest of the year to ask where is the handle of the USB port. So, fuck off, without giving an abacus.
Fifth, you want to put the lights? Well, great! But with the cock I pay the electricity, the mountains of beautiful extensions and connections to the counters of cursed lovers decorations. Here, you can also keep them until May.
Sixth and finally, best wishes via SMS. I remember the early days of the phone - dark times, my weighing a pound - and I remember that I replied to messages of congratulations, even those idiots with more dirty nursery rhymes (the ones where someone at the end rhymes and you bum), then I remember I used to meet the wretched I wrote and discovered that they had made a special contract with the phone company that had 400 free sms per day throughout the Christmas period. Do not respond to these bastards, but when you meet them, Beat him with an iron pipe and tell him that I will have given for free throughout the Christmas period.

Merry Christmas to all

design by Pierre Bourgeault

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Augusta (SR) - Report of visit to the telegraph Bourbon.



di Davide Cristaldi
Vicepresidenta nazionale Comitati Due Sicilie

Quella del 19 dicembre è stata una giornata che ha messo un ulteriore tassello nella Bourbon reconstruction of the history of Sicily.
Thick, interested and demanding audience who attended the delivery of Cozzo Telegraph, as I particularly appreciated the enthusiasm, preparedness and ability to involve the association of Ivan Alicata Nature Sicula and Luca di Giacomo association Marilighea .

Key to its success was the presence of the archaeologist and local historian Italo Russo, the first to find the sources and identified the remains of the telegraph Bourbon Diavolodopera. Thanks to him we have entered the site easily and we were able to reconstruct a more that those were the great historical events of the telegraph station.
unexpected as the presence of happy Carmelo Modica, a man of proven faith Bourbon that I got to know on Sunday when he joined the expedition, and with which I hope is soon to launch a fruitful collaboration.

be noted in the presence of Augusta 'Association "Two Sicilies" led by President James Casole , I got to know more on Sunday, its association with I hope I can organize something together soon.

Historical Background

The area surrounding the optical telegraph Diavolodopera , Also said "Diavolopri" or "Opra d'Avola" , is now known by the name of "Cozzo Telegraph" and is on a hill between Brucoli and Agusta. The telegraph station was located between the adjacent river Simeto (Portuguese House) and the town of Augusta (Old Earth) As shown in the legend of the map of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies telegraph, "Diavolodopera" was also used for spotting and reporting of ships that lined the area of \u200b\u200bsea below.
The exact date of construction we do not know, but certainly going back a few months after 1816, when it was established the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies Sicily and set up the system comunicazione telegrafica ottica con il sistema Depillon (telegrafo a 3 braccia)

La spedizione

Partiti da Augusta abbiamo raggiunto Cozzo Telegrafo in 15 minuti circa. Questa montagnola, famosa per gli eventi bellici che la videro protagonista come importante caposaldo italo-tedesco per la difesa di Catania dall'esercito inglese guidato dal generale Montgomery, si presenta come un sistema irto di tunnel sotterranei, cunicoli, bunker, vasche per cannoni tutti costruiti durante la seconda guerra mondiale.
Giunti sulla sommità del cocuzzolo, il Sig. Russo ci ha mostrato il punto in cui sorgeva il telegrafo: abbiamo in effetti rinvenuto i resti dell'intonaco sui cui era poggiato il macchinario, i resti del perimeter wall of the hut, tiles and tiles of the same. Most importantly, we found:

- two "T" (telegraph) cut into the rock, facing the two telegraphs adjacent

- a button in iron, rusty, and above what appears to be a lily Bourbon (probably lost by a telegraph officer), for which we report a precise

- remains of plates, bowls, vases in glazed terracotta nel'800 generally in use, for which Mr. Russo will make a expertise that will determine the exact date.

Most of this material, as well as several bricks, are also been found 20 meters away in all directions, an unmistakable sign of an explosion, certainly occurred during the bombardments of the war: according to historians of our Armando Donato Mozer, head of the CDS for the province of Messina and experienced military, Bourbon telegraph station was blown up on the morning of July 15, 1943 as a result of the massive British bombardment by land and by sea, to 12.30 on the same day that caused the fall of the stronghold of Cozzo Telegraph.

Finite appropriate surveys and inspections, has been exposed to the public a historical overview of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, was shown and explained the flag of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies as well as the map of the United telegraph, objects have proved particularly popular as evidenced by the volley of questions and curiosities that have placed myself with pleasure.
The vast majority of participants were unaware of the history of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies and his first, so the mission can be said than done.

All photos of the event

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Truth horror to the town hall

December 12, 20 ...

Central FL Police C. ..

voluntary statement of Mr. FR on the events taking place on 5 December 20 ... in the city of C. .. at around 8.30. Mr. F. presented himself voluntarily to give evidence by stating that I am aware of elements of prime importance for the investigation is still ongoing. Shorthand by GG appointment, attending the deposition agents Lieutenant Lieutenant SR and DL

The deposition was videotaped by surveillance cameras in Central FL, following transcription.

My name is FR, I was born on 31/05/19 ... S. .., 55 years and I am a doctor. Before you begin to tell you everything I know about the horrible events occurred in the city on December 5 last year is a must I tell you that is a person respected by all my colleagues, my patients and my colleagues. None of the people that I attend, but usually only, will never speak ill of me, not even claim to have heard from anyone. I have a wife and three beautiful children who, despite the events that occurred recently in my home, they will never admit to being abused by me, nor to have been neglected in any way. However, all those who have decided to desert and I can not blame them. Have changed profoundly since I met the judge V., a terrible person, vicious, profane and arrogant, but with uncommon intelligence and charm would call magnetic. The fragile limits of my sanity have begun to fray under the influence of a being so bad, I'm sure, although I can not prove it, not sure. I met him exactly a year ago and from that moment it all started.

I had just finished discussing with my wife about the usual nonsense about the housework, typical of married couples, so I decided to go out to the club and allow to cool tempers. Arriving at the club, I went in, I greeted my acquaintances, I ordered a cigar, a cognac and sat on the terrace overlooking the courtyard because, despite the winter was approaching, there was an unusual warm breeze that made the air clean, warm and dry. I was on the sidelines, was one of the few times I did it, but I did not want to sit down at the green table with the club, I was not in the mood. Ten minutes later, I felt much better, I stopped thinking about my wife and the problems of the couple, was contemplating the starry sky and I would sit in the damn green table even for all the chips in the world. Just as I was about to doze off, as I was absorbed in the contemplation of the infinite unknown black is the universe, suddenly appeared (this was my feeling) the figure of Judge V., then no one knew at the club. He introduced himself, shaking my hand and sat down at my table. We talked all night, do not even remember of such arguments, but the fact is that from that day we visited very often. And ever since that day, my relationship with my wife began to deteriorate very quickly, the discussions became more frequent, even if the reasons were the usual friction. My wife complained of my laziness, that did nothing for her and our children who were not paying the costs. I switched lens with words that, although not help her in daily chores, when there was need of 'man of the house to mount lamps, shelves, or to move heavy furniture I pulled back, certainly not. She did not listen to reason and in hindsight I can understand, but what most made me furious and I did not mai sopportato erano le sue generalizzazioni : non fai mai niente, non giochi mai coi bambini, non mi aiuti mai, sei un buono a nulla. In quei momenti la odiavo, avrei voluto che tutto ciò che avevo fatto per lei fosse svanito improvvisamente, la casa, i gioielli, le pellicce, i quadri...e parliamo delle riparazioni alla sua automobile (pagata da me, tra l'altro), che ne sarebbe stato di quel povero motore? Ho sempre odiato le generalizzazioni e se leggessi una frase del genere su un quotidiano sarei capace di sbottare e di stracciarlo seduta stante.

Una mattina parlai di tutto ciò al mio nuovo amico ed egli, per tutta risposta, mi invitò a prendere un caffè a casa sua in the afternoon. When I walked into his house a waitress made me wait in the lounge and asked me to wait for my host, who would arrive soon. I sat on a chair and began to inspect the room with her eyes, because I felt that there was no way to know a person than to examine the place where he spends most of his time. But I could not find anything significant, except the parchment of his degree in law from the Miskatonic University in Arkham, New England, the United States. Immediately I knew that was not the preferred place for living by the court, were, indeed, his books on place in which preferred to spend his time . I am not speaking of tomes of law, those resting in peace, almost untouched, in a locked cabinet, but I speak of the books that I noticed on the desk. Were open, ragged, greasy, torn, incredibly old, but it seemed that the intensive use them held in life rather than consume them. My interest in old books allowed me to recognize a few titles among those who read it, but none of them meant to me at that moment nothing special, there was a copy of Pigafetta's Regnum Congo , a beautiful hardcover edition in Hand Daemonolatreia Remigio, one of the first printing of De Mastication Mortuorum in Tumulis Ranft, a collection of mysterious manuscripts Pnacotici , there was even cultibus ineffabilibus De vel infandis, Latin translation of the library Von Juntz (original title Unaussprechlichen Kulten ). Then there was the De vermis Mysteriis of Prinn - the latter without binding, but otherwise in excellent condition. They were all titles of which I had heard from some fellow collectors, and frankly, I knew only vaguely of their content. Then there was another volume, the thick leather cover, which, at first glance, I could not find the title, I could not even understand what the animal was incredibly smooth skin used to make that book. I opened the striscia di cuoio che sigillava il tomo e sfogliando le pagine lessi:

Al Azif

Abdul Alhazred

***

Lione, Francia

A.D. MCDLXXII

Olaus Wormius

Al Azif, il titolo, pensai, Abdul Alhazred, l'autore, edizione francese del 1472 , tradotta da Olaus Wormius. Un fievole lume si accese nel buio totale della mia memoria, ma ancora non capivo cosa stessi sfogliando. Tradussi freneticamente la prima frase dal latino:

La notte s'apre sull'orlo dell'abisso. Le porte dell'inferno sono chiuse, a tuo rischio le tenti. Al tuo richiamo si desterà qualcosa per risponderti. Questo regalo lascio all'umanità, ecco le chiavi. Cerca le serrature, sii soddisfatto. Ma ascolta ciò che dice Abdul Alhazred: per primo io le ho trovate e sono matto.

Un tocco gelido mi percorse la colonna vertebrale: mi trovavo di fronte al Necronomicon dell'arabo pazzo Abdul Alhazred, allora esisteva! Iniziai a sudare copiosamente, dovevo andarmene da quel place and stop any relationship with the judge V., whoever he was, and of any kind were his intentions toward me. At that moment the waitress came, I jumped with fright but I'm not breaking down, I hurried to even ask about the judge saying that I had mentioned at that time a major commitment to work. The maid said nothing but gave me a ticket. I read:

Dear friend, I'm sorry you had to wait in vain, but I had to leave quickly for reasons I can not explain now. The comfort you are looking for you'll find in the books that I left for you on my desk. They will advise you better than I could have done I. Unfortunately my schedule will keep me off for quite some time so I can not even say goodbye with the usual "soon." Goodbye, then. V.

I swear I can not explain why I did it, but I picked those books cursed and walked away.

I left work and spent the next six weeks locked in my basement with the volumes in the grip of a feverish and morbid thirst for knowledge . If only I had listened to the words of warning Alhazred! But anyone who has anything to do with children knows that the warnings serve no purpose other than to fill the mouth and warm the atmosphere and that nothing, absolutely nothing, can counteract the curiosity that is characteristic of certain animals, including man too. The only way to understand just what a mistake you commit! Learn how to avoid stumbling into error the next time. But there are mistakes, alas, that can be done only once. It was so completely isolated myself from the rest of the world and the only exchange of words I had were the increasingly furious quarrel with my wife. But most of the time, as I said, I spent studying those books. I learned formulas that no human being should know, I learned the cosmogony of the Great Old Ones - Cthulhu waits dreaming that submerged the island of R'lyeh, the god of chaos that Azathoth, blind and dumb, blasphemy gurgles in the center of the universe - I met and visited the poor and remote unnamed city, with the techniques learned from the Necronomicon acquire the gift of ubiquity of mind, and I read the couplet on the stone of which tells of the mad Arab:

not all dead what ever lies

In strange aeons even death rest in peace ¹

I know you believe me mad, I read in his eyes, and perhaps you are wrong. If everyone knew ... my god ... there is no human mind that remain within the boundaries of sanity! Our gods, our religions, our science, even Euclidean geometry! These are all trifles, trivia, jokes, gross errors of perspective. If our God could exist at most aspire to act as usher to the great Cthulhu! But you can not understand, just like I did not understand myself what I uncovered when chasms emerged from my basement that day. It was December 5th and I felt fine.

My wife saw me reduced to a pile of hair, beards and rags attacked me for the usual reasons. This time, however, something happened. They dropped the paintings that had hung, chandeliers and shelves, jewelry disappeared from her fingers and neck as my wife disappeared, leaving his false teeth in place a horrible cavern of flesh. I looked at that woman and I realized solo allora che era vecchia . Poi buttai l'occhio attraverso la finestra sul cortile e vidi che dal cofano dell'auto di mia moglie usciva un vapore bianco densissimo mentre, fra le ruote anteriori, si andava formando una macchia lucida e scura. Avevo desiderato che quelle cose accadessero e, non appena le avevo immaginate, erano successe. Non avevo alcun dubbio oramai: dalla mia parte avevo i Grandi Antichi e i loro poteri. Nessuno si sarebbe più permesso di chiamarmi buono a nulla. Ora è necessario che vi spieghi perché mi trovo qui, in questura. Dopo quel che era successo a casa quella mattina, mia moglie aveva portato via i bambini ed era tornata da sua madre. Mi aveva lasciato dicendo che sarebbe tornata quando le fosse stato restituito her real husband. At these words I shrugged and went to the club in the grip of a new and strange euphoria. I took a coffee, read a newspaper and sat on the porch despite the cold and damp. A few minutes later broke into a local young man who seemed beside himself with fear. "Come and see you soon! 'S the end, "said a choked voice. I put down the newspaper and I followed the other members out into the street first and then the town hall which was located in front of the club, on the other side of the small square. A crowd of people had been rushed and was eager to enter the town hall. You already know what happened to the town hall, you need not tell you. I'll tell you why I ran away instead in despair when I found out by a reporter what had happened. Well, reading the newspaper, a few tens of minutes earlier, I ran into an article, signed by the deputy mayor, Mr. MB, where he claimed that doctors, strike, had lost his head . I already told you how I react to these exaggerations and generalizations, so I thought it would be appropriate for all, the town hall, they lose their useless heads. But mind you! It was just a thought, one of those things you say at the bar! From what I read in your eyes you got. Have you put in 167 because of the decapitated bodies of the city hall you could not recover even a head!

Now I warn you: I confess remorse for the terrible, I was alone and my soul is damned forever and irreversibly, but my body, this heavy and unnecessary housing, is the last thing left for me, so I ask you to be lenient with this piece of rotting flesh, and not to imprison. Instead you have to protect myself and make sure that the last few years I have left on this planet to be nice, will pay the bill for my actions in very different entities. If you do as I tell you I can promise that I will try not to think bad thoughts, to be happy and to continue working for this community. However, if you want to take drugs and shut in a room with padded walls I can promise you that when I have a glimmer of conscience I'll try to think about how stupid and exaggeration to say that the cops in this town are just cannon fodder.

Gentlemen, good evening.

End of transcript

A DEMON - Design and development of Riccardo Ferrari

I wrote this little story as a tribute to the great writer Providence Howard Phillips Lovecraft, whose stories have always fascinated me, of course this is supposed to be just a game, an experiment, nothing serious, because you may have noticed that the protagonist gets angry and uncomfortable for the Great Old Ones of crap. I hope the fans of Lovecraft and Poe will forgive me for this shameful American raid in the literature. Nda.

a That is not dead Which can eternal lie / And with strange aeons even death May day This translation of the famous couplet Lovecraft is mine, the other did not satisfy me at all, and did not rhyme as does the original. I hope I have been faithful, a little 'and the meaning a bit' to the beat. Robe translators anyway.

La verità sull'orrore al municipio by Riccardo Ferrari is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribuzione - Non commerciale - Non opere derivate 3.0 Unported License .
Based on a work at orizzonteperverso.blogspot.com .
Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://orizzonteperverso.blogspot.com .

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Bar Workers - An Italian story almost dry

(ripubblico questo post con qualche piccolo ritocco, nda)

Una volta, prendendo un caffè in un bar ho origliato involontariamente una interessante conversazione, per cui ho deciso di riportarla here so as I remember. Not every single syllable, of course. A talk about were two guys who could have from 25 to 35 years. Since I do not know their real names call them Cain and Abel, for convenience. For the record, it will also cover more colorful expressions but I must admit that I do not like at all.

Abel takes a sip of coffee and exclaims:

"I'm breaking my balls! If I have to pay the 15th of the month then I demand that the bank I did not arrive later than 17, but with currency at 15! You can not fuck, that I have to call every month because they have not got the money. I'm going to work every day on time. In time, understand? "

Cain finishes his sambuca and sucking a coffee bean answers

" You're right, Abel. It is a son of a bitch. I gave them to pay us money. I'd understand if it was in difficulties. Peròoo ... "

" Of course, too - Abel blames him - if there is to say something you always pull back and eventually I'm the jerk who always goes on ahead. There are only two and if I sing along to listen to power! Otherwise I always step to the subversive and the workhorse for you. "

Abel Cain looks a bit 'wrong and replication:

" I do not want to fight, I have a rent to pay, bills, a girlfriend ... "

" Yes, but do not understand, then. We're just two of us working for him, that if I say all you'll see that listened to us! What do we dismiss them both? It can not remain on foot. Besides, it's a matter of principle, justice, God! Do you understand? "

Justice, Abel ... me in the end matter what money I come and I see that shit as possible. Think of those who are worse. I mean, there are people who are not paid for months. Some go in layoffs and take their misery. "

" Hey Cain, I'll take a pittance even work. The problem is this: always think that might go peggio, che ci sono degli altri che stanno peggio, che il loro capo non li paga. Ma io voglio solo quello che mi spetta per legge. Io lavoro e voglio essere pagato. Io vado al lavoro nei giorni e nelle ore previste e voglio essere pagato nel giorno previsto. Salvo imprevisti, s'intende. E non dimentichiamo, non dimentichiamo che esiste anche la tortura, o la pena di morte, cosa facciamo, ci passiamo sopra perché ce ne sono dei più stronzi di così? Rinunciamo ai nostri diritti solo perché nel mondo ci sono i dittatori e i finti democrat...”

“Ascolta Abele, adesso stai andando off-topic. Io dico solo che non mi va di litigarci, punto. Se mi metto a discutere col capo di 'ste cose va a finire che lo mando affanculo e job goodbye, goodbye I have to go back home and my parents. "

" Fine your apology. So give it to him won. He knows that he can pay us so late. He knows he can pay us little that can make us a contract of shit and treat us like slaves. Have you read Bakunin? "

" No. "

" Whatever. We do not protest ever. He makes us a precarious contract with the minimum wage, we pay late and ask for a raise ... if not, what did you remember the courage to tell us? He said that if asked for an increase he closed cabin and puppets rather than give us e. .. "

" Oh I remember. He also said that out of the office had fila. Con la crisi che c'è...”

“Sai cosa ti dico Caino? Dobbiamo parlargli insieme, dirgli le cose in faccia. Lui fa così solo per metterci paura. Fidati, te lo dico io. Ha la fila fuori dall'ufficio...vedrai che se lo lasciamo a piedi una sola giornata, dico una sola giornata, dopo ci ascolta per forza.”

“No, io non voglio casini Abele, alla fine mi paga e va bene così, dai, anche tu...”

“Va bene, allora non mi rompere più le palle tutti i santi mesi, che mi chiedi 'ti è arrivato il bonifico?' Non ti lamentare più se prendi poco, se ti tratta male, se la tua vita è condizionata dal tuo contratto e se il tuo contratto è shit. Do not go by the unions to make you say that your contract sucks and then not conclude anything. Do not complain if the hours per year salary increase and decrease. Do not be a partner if you do then the game master. I alone can not do anything. You see? Fuck, we are here to argue among ourselves when we blame him. Can not you see? This is what he wants, that its employees are so desperate for a job not to claim even the smallest law. Unity is strength? Like hell. The division is strength, but his, not ours. And our need for our money kills any hope for change. It is a sad total and definitive, Cain. Do you realize? " Abel swallow the first sip of sambuca and a grimace of disgust on his face appears. I did not understand if it was due to the 40 degrees of sambuca or something else. Cain continues to mirror hidden in the cabinets of the bar straightening thick hair and blacks and no longer listens to him anymore. Abel looks at him with a mixture of pity and contempt. Cain turns abruptly, blushing because he realizes that while Abel was reflected was watching him. Then resumed the conversation to distract her from that habit discovered:

"You know what's up? What you did not want to work. You complain that you take a little but if there is to move your ass you know fatigue. That two balls here, that two of the balls. I do many more hours you and I'm not complaining ever. For this then your boss is evil. "

" Look here '- Abel addressed him - I do not care to work harder or take longer. Do not you understand? I just want what I deserve. I do not work to get a bigger car or television flatter, work to live and feel comfortable. But obviously we are on two different levels. And then? Eh? Where exactly do you propose to divide the hours worked are not sure you would be fine. Because you will have to pay the TV ellecidi, the rate of the stereo, the dinners at the restaurant, electronic gadgets (which do not even know how to use), the designer jeans, the crap your girlfriend, which are many, and so saying. I do not buy is that more and more I'm happy. You instead ... "

" What does my girlfriend now? "

" But yes, it's a bitch, you take the balls. And put the birthday of the Father, the baptism of his nephew, Miumiu jacket that 'can not miss is a leader in the wardrobe of a woman' [I have to say this to my girlfriend, nda], jewelry, handbags python, boots copal, the piessetre, the vu-i, the piessepi the aipad the aipod and all the shit that you buy every time. Then, perhaps, he resigned because quarrels with colleagues and meanwhile the idiot who work and pay is always calm and has no problems taking it in the ass the head! And gifts, gifts, exotic restaurant and a glass of wine in the center and make a lot of intellectual niuiorchese, Ikea once a month ... "

The conversation had shifted slightly and the sound was rising. I felt embarrassed for those two, among other things, were about my age. So I paid the bill and walked away. As I told a few days after the bartender, a dear friend, if those two gave it a thrashing. Perhaps, then, are taking a beer. I hope so.

The hope, if there is a hope, lies in Prole and their collective strength and potential, "wrote George Orwell in "1984", but the white building in the shape of a pyramid of the party were carved slogans. Then we know how that story turned out.

But another great strength
then explained his wings

words saying "all men are created equal" and
against kings and tyrants
the bomb exploded in the street
proletarian
the air and lit the torch of anarchy

(La Locomotive - Francesco Guccini)

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Ripon (CT) - They ask him to run me laugh, but he plays one of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies



The article, signed by Unless Sessa appeared in the newspaper La Sicilia the December 13, 2010.
These tell the teacher Di Donato, at the end of his concert organ è stato invitato a suonare l'inno di Mameli. Con garbo si è rifiutato, optando, invece, per quello del Regno delle Due Sicilie.

La scelta sicuramente è stata dettata dallo strumento che suonava. Infatti, all'organo, l'inno di Paisello, "rende" molto meglio di quello savoiardo.
Infatti alla gente è molto piaciuto.

Paint A Skateboard Deck Game Online

County - An American tale almost

Crossville, Tennessee, USA, September 2005. I was wandering the fields of Tennessee ... no, sorry, I walked the aisles of Wal Mart, it was my first American spending and watched with curiosity and suspicion, the shelves filled with giant packs of chocolate cake filled with peanut butter, Cereals Kellogg's, cans of cola cherry flavored, bacon dried, sausages and giant packs of bread to hamburger, long-life - each item in the regular version and in the "fatties ingozzatevi pure" (see light ) - when I came across the department hunting and fishing. Imagine these banks, within our own supermarkets, selling mobile phones and cars cameras or jewelry, behold, there was an island of windows in the center of the small Wal Mart, where they were selling knives, pistols, shotguns, hunting shotguns, bows, crossbows, and ammunition. Ah, America! I knew that the United States is easy to get a .44 magnum, but I did not think you could put the gun in the bag with the bread and tomatoes, "Hey, that Remington remove it from crushing the entire salad, asshole!" "Yes, so sorry, I put a bag of marshmallows to absorb the impact, all right? "" Hell yeah! ".

So, while I was thinking "long live Italy", turned on the radar of beer and started to run between shelves well aware dell'espressione da ebete che avevo stampata in faccia. A un tratto, però, il mio volto si illuminò. “God bless America”, pensai quando notai che tenevano le casse di birra in luminose vetrine frigo, “questi americani, ne sanno una più del diavolo!”. C'era la Bud, la Bud light, la Bud super light, la Coors, la Coors light, la Coors super light e altre marche americane che non ricordo ma sempre con le corrispondenti versioni per birròfili ciccioni. Le file dei cartoni erano opulentemente lunghe e gradassamente profonde, così che nessuno avrebbe potuto esaurire la scorta ghiacciata di quel nettare favoloso, “viva l'America” pensai, “quasi quasi dopo gli compro anche qualche pallettone”. In my mind rushing Hollywood scenes of fishermen who uncork beer, neighbors who have cans on the lawn in front of the house, white teeth, tanned and perfect tits and ass a la Baywatch, cowboy hats, cigar between his teeth , super tuesday, Thanksgiving Day, ringo boys who are fighting a five-headed eagles, white stars and stripes flags waving everywhere, Marines and the Communists to defeat evil. "I'm in America, all others are losers," I thought. While my enthusiasm made me imagine these things, my common sense made me opt for a case of Heineken, which, incredibly, was the only decent beer you could buy at Wal Mart.

Mi avviai verso le casse, dove una simpatica signora in divisa mi sorrideva da lontano. Mentre mi faceva il conto le domandai dove si trovassero i vini e i distillati dato che fra le corsie non li avevo trovati. “Magari sono vicino ai fucili”, pensai sorridendo, e immediatamente mi immaginai a cavallo di un baio selvaggio nella prateria, con la mano destra impugnavo un Uzi e sparavo a casaccio (forse agli indiani), con la sinistra tenevo la mia bottiglia di ottimo Jack Daniel's e dalla mia bocca uscivano solo sputi, rantoli e “fuck off, motherfuckers!”. Insomma, dicevo, le domandai dove potessi trovare i vini e i distillati perché volevo assaggiare il vino della California e il famoso Jack Daniel's, la cui distilleria si trova just in Tennessee, to Lynchburg. In addition, there are a couple of varieties that are not easily found Jack in Europe: the Jack Daniel's Green Label, label olive green, not seasoned in the Old No. 7 and Gentleman Jack, if I remember correctly is a distillation most seasoned of the classic Jack Black Label, but less value than Jack Daniel's Single Barrel. We were saying? Oh yes, I asked the woman where hell is the department whiskey, but that he replied that his eyes open wide in the county of Cumberland, where we were, you could not buy liquor and this also included wines. Cumberland is one of the 33 dry county in the country, a dry county, literally, where if you're thirsty ... you keep it. You had to drive 40 miles to reach the nearest wet county County wet, in fact, wet.

I returned to my apartment thoughtfully. Rest my expense, I opened a beer and lay down on the grass in front of the house. In those parts there is a wonderful climate in September, it's sunny but not too hot because Crossville, a town famous for golf, stands in the center of the state of Tennessee, on a vast plateau woods, streams and hills. My roommate had warned me that in winter, however, would make a bitterly cold and the trees were literally embedded in a thick shell of ice that formed the frost and high humidity. Shortly male, a fine ottobre sarei tornato a casa. “Crossville... città della croce!” pensai ricordandomi delle tante chiesette di legno con cartelli che dicevano “Jesus saves”, ma più tardi seppi che mi sbagliavo e che il nome deriva dalla posizione centrale della città nella quale si incrociano due importanti autostrade.

Mentre ero assorto nei miei pensieri americani arrivò il mio coinquilino, un uomo sui cinquanta, simpatico e abbastanza tranquillo: “Ehi! Metti via quella bottiglia” mi ordinò “o perlomeno coprila con un sacchetto, qui non si può bere per strada, è proibited! La polizia ti fa il culo.” “E chi l'ha mai vista la polizia qui davanti a casa?” I said slyly defiant raising the corpus delicti as to toast "They come out when you least expect it. If you make a mistake you see them now, you can not escape ... "and started telling me about a colleague who had been fined twice in the same day for speeding and that he should go to court, in short, a mess. I hurried to get home and shut myself in the room to read a biography of Che Guevara. I enjoyed thinking that if I had found the backpack at the airport, I would bring in a closet and the CIA would come to question me.

A couple of weeks later, my roommate invited me to accompany him to Lynchburg, Moore County, to visit the historic distillery the inventor of the mustachioed Jack Daniel's. I did not go, can not remember why, maybe I should just stay in the room to read and smoke. I remember that I said "Say hello if you see Phil Anselmo," "Who?" "Forget it, I'll see you tonight" and shut myself in my room. After a couple of hours I had already regretted not going because I was bored to death and also had seen a spider frolicking between the sheets. Colleagues had warned me that there were a couple of spiders and one, maybe two, poisonous snakes out there, it bothered me a lot and spent the afternoon trying to dig out that visitor side.

When my roommate returned were 19 (7pm, sorry), I remember exactly why I looked at his watch and obsessively repeated, with an American accent, the phrase "with God's help and with a handful of Marines defeat Communism in the world."

"Hello, where's the whiskey?" I asked without much polite "No whiskey, my friend," I protested and said, "Like anything whiskey? How the hell do I sleep tonight? There is a poisonous spider in my bed, otherwise I have to drink with the cabbage that I fall asleep with the fucking ... "" No whiskey I said, can not sell it to Lynchburg, is a dry county , like ours, "" Fuck, this is America, I have rights, the constitution ... the pursuit of happiness ... I appeal to the Fifth Amendment ... fuck! Fuck off! You cunt! Damn Mormons! God god here and there ... "and went on for two hours, then spent the night in white because of the giant spider.

short, even the factory where you can drink Jack Daniel's whiskey, how will you know when it's ready? They spend seven years to launch in the barrels and caps can not even get a drink, what kind of injustice! These were my thoughts Americans after that day. The great country, the land of freedom and of the pioneers, the home of liberalism and Smith's invisible hand disappointed me so much. How is it possible that I could not be free to buy a bottle of red wine at the supermarket but I could go out, indeed, with a shotgun on his shoulder? All right, it means I will buy a case of beer! We put a little 'more to get drunk but I'll make it, then I'll be free to do the shooting from my room, goddamn it!

What a country, America. You can walk with Smith and Wesson, but you will get caught up with Jack and Cola, you're fucked up. I realized that Hollywood movies are not American are realistic and America to be a colossal American , directors and copy writers e basta.

Un mese più tardi tornai a casa, diventai vegetariano e mi licenziai per intraprendere nuove ed esilaranti avventure.

Crossville Water Tower, Shot by J. Stephen Conn

La contea secca by Riccardo Ferrari is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribuzione - Non commerciale - Non opere derivate 3.0 Unported License .
Based on a work at orizzonteperverso.blogspot.com .

Creamy White Before Period

In search of the optical telegraph Bourbon Diavolodopera




La delegazione siciliana dei Comitati Due Sicilie , le associazioni Natura Sicula sez. Augusta e Marilighea hanno il piacere di invitare iscritti e simpatizzanti alla spedizione per la ricerca del telegrafo ottico di Diavolodopera , secondo alcuni documenti storici posto sulle alture di Cozzo Telegrafo, nei pressi di Augusta.

L'appuntamento è fissato per il 19 dicembre 2010 ore 09.30 a Piazza Fontana in Augusta(SR) , indirizzo in cui è stato previsto il punto di raccolta.

Accompagnatore ufficiale alla spedizione sarà Ivan Alicata dell'associazione Natura Sicula, che ci condurrà sulle alture di Cozzo Telegrafo dove lo storico locale Italo Russo , per primo ad aver rinvenuto le tracce storiche della stazione telegrafica borbonica ci parlerà dei suoi studi.

Davide Cristaldi
Vicepresidente nazionale e coordinatore per la Sicilia - Committees Two Sicilies

Good Second Hand Ice Skates

flying cow who cheat at poker

Today we talk about religion, faith, atheism, karma, and destiny of souls, a topic that I will try to deal with due respect for those who believe in a deity. From time to time we will come back to if I want to.

I found myself many times to talk with people about religion and God thought differently from me. Like all discussions, heated or not, with people of different views even this has proved very informative and useful. Let me explain. I always started my discussion by asking how he could turn to religious belief in an invisible being who lives in the clouds, which evidence - apart from a book - could show to prove its existence or how he believe those that, in my opinion, were little more than fables. It is obvious that with such questions as the discussion switched on and, despite all the effort spent in the cut and thrust, always come into conflict with the usual glass ceiling: the faith. Hours and hours of discussion leading up to the usual dead end: "I just believe, I believe in God, what's wrong? I do not care and I can not prove that there is. As you can not prove that there is. "Okay, you win. When it comes to religion, in fact, the arguments "against" are over, exhausted, unnecessary, redundant. Think about it, if I say I believe in flying cows, though not if they have ever seen, and even if the testimony of one who claims to have seen them are remote in space and time are highly sporadic, it can not contradict in any way I think because we just closed the topic. I do not care to prove the existence of winged animals. Are now at a higher level. Try to raise some objections: no bird has the rumen? There is always a first time. Why do you only see Codest animals? I do not know. In fact, I know, because I'm the chosen one, you can not know the divine will and design of the flying cow. And so on. For this reason, for my clash with the professions of faith, even my atheism began to falter, I started going to church or mosque, mind you, but I thought that, yes, I could never prove the non-existence of God, Allah, Ganesh and Vishnu, the immortal souls, and so on. Then my theology has become "softer" to the believers and also I have started thinking that maybe, just maybe, something or someone in the vast infinity could, I also say, exist. Okay, but who to choose? Who to believe? Allah? Yahweh? The Trinity? One of my personal god (oh yeah, do not I told you, this is the new fashion, believing in a personal god, nature, earth, the sun, a soul collective. Every believer in a personal god has its own model or idea. A sort of personal god, a bit 'like going to the tailor and get the tailor-made suit after being disappointed by the tailoring industry. But here are not talking about clothes. Let's talk about suggests the existence of an entity / thing / being / nonsocosa higher, eternal, immortal. There is talk of afterlife, and reincarnation of souls. Only now, also, I understand the atheist Communist believe in God was an admission that the owners have always existed, that they are immortal and that we have it all. End of engraved)?

summary, then, we can not refute the religious faith with rational arguments, not religion. Consequently possiamo e dobbiamo affermare che tutte le religioni sono meritevoli del medesimo rispetto. Perché dovrei ritenere più vera la fede cristiana cattolica rispetto alle altre? Dal momento che non ci sono vere e proprie basi scientifiche sulle quali dimostrare l'esistenza di una divinità, non è possibile nemmeno dimostrarne la non esistenza, quindi non posso falsificare nessuna tesi di nessuna religione, per quanto io la possa ritenere ridicola. Tornando all'esempio delle mucche volanti, come dovrei comportarmi se fossi di fronte a cinque persone che affermano che:

Questa immagine è di proprietà di Holy Cows, Inc.

1) the only true flying cow is red Lambrusco wine and drinks, 2) the only true flying cow is blue, 3) the only true flying cow is yellow and has 15 legs, 4) the only true flying cow is black and hates homosexuals hermaphrodite, 5) the only true flying cow is spotted and I can see the cards in poker. Which one should I choose? On what criteria? Well, I prefer the red cow, but if I was born where everyone believes in the black, I'll have less choice, I will be conditioned to believe the flying cow hermaphrodite black and homophobic. But what basis I can say that the cow right is that they believe in my people? How can I not doubt? If you believe a flying cow red thing preventing me from believing in a flying cow spots? Well, if I play poker will choose the red: if you eat it at least I can pull the axles from the sleeves.

sum up: I can not refute the religious beliefs of using rational arguments and I have no rational basis for saying that a religion is more or less valid than any other, but still, how can I have the presumption to believe in god just as when other I claim to own the truth themselves? At this point, the religions should be more rational than politeiste, poiché contemplano l'esistenza di molte e differenti divinità e questo spiega anche l'apertura di certi popoli alle conversioni: i tuoi dei ti hanno appena fatto perdere tutto il raccolto, il Dio giaguaro ha appena mangiato tua moglie, il Dio scimmia urlatrice non ti lascia dormire e vedi arrivare uomini in armatura che governano enormi navi e vanno a spasso a dorso di mostri a quattro zampe, hanno bastoni tonanti che sputano fuoco e piombo; bé, meglio cambiare religione, così se il Dio scimmia torna di notte urlando gli si spara con l'archibugio.

Per concludere questo piccolo excursus sulla fede religiosa vorrei raccontare un aneddoto. Alla scuola materna ho assistito, giuro che è vero, a un fatto curioso. Un child steals a toy car-robot to another. This child tries desperately and suspecting the thief began to pressure him. The thief, who was not stupid, tells him to know that the cars and buried in the courtyard of the school and that only has to dig to find it at some point. The port where to dig, and help you find the toy. Obviously, spend their days and the stolen goods is not found. How is it possible? Then you told a lie? asks the robbed. No, replies the thief, the possibilities are three: you're digging in the wrong place, you have not dug enough, or you're questioning what I say, do not believe me. The stolen what can be done to prove his suspicions? Can not search the house of the thief, who stole it can not prove and can not prove that the car is not buried in the courtyard of the school (if not completely overturned, but it would end its first year of kindergarten). If another child had told him that he saw the thief take home the loot, the poor wretch would have believed it, but not on the basis of a rational argument but on the basis of what was easy for him at the moment It is easier to convince a thief to return the stolen goods that hunted dig until you find the. I do not know if I explained. How can you prove the falsity of an argument if you can not prove the truth of its opposite? How do I prove that is not true that Bernadette saw the Virgin, where there is no way to prove otherwise? How can I prove that the Bible and the Qur'an were inspired by God in person if I can not verify it? How can I prove that the events are the result of chance or of others' actions and are not the result of a divine plan, of poetic justice, karma, voodoo, the evil eye or fate? If I decide to delete this sentence, just after writing it, how can I prove that someone had not expected or, worse, decided? Impossible, as it is impossible to prove that somewhere there is someone who had decided for me. If I write "shit" is a literary act already decided? Possible? Had already decided the extermination of the Jews (for more, a people who believe God's chosen), the Roma, homosexuals and political criminals in the twentieth century? Now, you could make a cut through with the famous Occam's Razor: the simplest solution is also preferable that, things happen by chance or as a result of actions of others. But even here you could respond with faith, and Occam would be worth less than two sticks with a trump money.

The beauty, however, it is now. If I, a human being just like you and biologically, I tell you that God does not exist, which are all lies, why should you believe me? How can I get on a pulpit and raised to the prophet of atheism? What would di me un testimone più credibile di Mosè o degli evangelisti? Niente, assolutamente niente. Esattamente come niente rende più credibile la testimonianza dei profeti rispetto a quella del divino mago Otelma. Insomma, un essere umano non dovrebbe cambiare idea perché uno che sta più in alto di lui gli comunica il suo pensiero. È come se, andando a votare, vedeste Antonello Venditti in televisione che dice di preferire il Partito Democratico e voi votereste il PD perché il vostro cantante preferito dice che voterà per il PD. Niente rende Antonello Venditti in grado di scegliere chi votare meglio di chiunque altro. La sua scelta potrebbe influenzare la vostra soltanto se le vostre aspettative politiche fossero molto simili. Per cui, penso che no one can ever claim to be religious truth in your pocket, unless you can prove that the flying cow spotted there and is very angry with you while flying cow drinking red lambrusco is an invention of the Consortium Modenese Lambrusco DOC to sell a few bottles in the box at Christmas and Easter. There is nothing to laugh about! You could never prove that there is the flying cow drinking red Lambrusco, and, what is worse is that this is just a stupid example. Imagine if I told you I saw a beautiful woman with blue veil that crushed a snake with bare feet, imagine if I told you that showed me hell, told me that three predictions I can not reveal until it came true. Still laugh now?

Builder Vests Dressing Up

prevent or treat?

A real meteor shower hits the human race every day. We call it death. Who dies of old age, stroke, accident or at work, suicide, hunger, thirst, gunshot wound, falling from a building piano, airway obstruction with a banana and I could go on for days but forget too the causes of someone's death. But what interests me in the post for today is the death that occurs following the course of cancer, we talk about cancer, cancer of the notorious. Hey, that sadness away, those long faces, I will not speak of human larvae and hospital beds, we must dispel this fear, we can even joke above, for today. My grandmother cancer calls it the "ugly evil", I thought it did not scare children, but then I discovered that many use this expression even talking to adults, perhaps because fear is so great that you do not list cancer not to summon him, you never know ... you'd almost be ashamed to have it. Cancer ... what a name, a crustacean stellar ... then what does? They could give it a different name? It has so many, it is true, but if you say you already know that cancer is a malignant tumoraccio cursed. They could call it another way, without evoking the zodiac sign for example. But oh well ... let's go further.
We are trying to defeat the cancer, some are cured, some are not, but we're working, we are working. Maybe you spend more money on space research, but that's okay, you would like to die of cancer while watching the Orion nebula lying in a crater on the moon? Maybe you spend more to cure erectile dysfunction, Viagra and Cialis, and so to the sound of spam, but die with swollen cock is priceless. All right, however there are many people that it takes the soul and we are working on. From what it seems, however, in medicine, as in other fields, they work more on prevention than on cure. I'm not a doctor, but if you had to do with doctors and psychologists could you give me reason you go to a psychologist for panic attacks and come out with a prescription for anti-depressants or anxiolytics without, in many cases, look for the causes that trigger the disease. Are you obese? We work, we cut the stomach, intestine and excess fat and you can go back to eating like a pig. That's fine, mind you, if you are sick you need to find a cure and apply it, but how do I reduce the risks and to avoid getting sick?
As for cancer, for example, there are new carcinogens every day and everywhere: in the non-stick pans in plastic bags, in the shell of Eternit, the exhaust gases, the vapors of gasoline and a thousand other substances to which we are all exposed i giorni. Il cellulare? Ci sono studi che sostengono che il suo utilizzo aumenti il rischio di tumore al cervello, prima ci abituano, lo fanno diventare una necessità, poi si scopre che se lo tieni in tasca ti fai i marron glaces. Poi ci sono le reti wireless, i ripetitori, le stazioni radio. Provocano il cancro? Per adesso, chi lo sa? Non ci sono studi sufficienti per dimostrarlo. E la saccarina, l'aspartame, il radon, la formaldeide, il fumo di sigaretta, l'alcol, i coloranti, i conservanti, i detergenti, i solventi, i carburanti? Prima li produciamo e li distribuiamo in tutto il mondo, nella catena alimentare, nell'aria, nelle case, nei giocattoli, poi dobbiamo smaltirli, incenerirli e seppellirli in some landfill and, finally, study them and discover that someone is dangerous.
What I mean is that it is right to find a cure for cancer, just, but it would just remove the causes even more radically. The state should not sell cigarettes, for easy and immediate profits, and then would increase health spending. People living in industrialized countries is exposed throughout life to irritants, toxic, noxious and carcinogenic and, therefore, the risk of getting sick is very high. Of course, we have acquired wealth through the industrial revolution, and most do not die of starvation or tuberculosis, but we die of lung cancer, liver cancer, prostate, pancreas, brain, breast, cervical, bone, testes, skin, throat ... What we would be willing to give up for less risk? We keep the phones, sports cars, detergents that can not be whiter, whiskey and cigars? Of course we keep them. Increase the GDP. But the illnesses, accidents and deaths, then? Better yet, although health spending increases the GDP of a country. Ah, yes.
Now that we are accustomed to the convenience is hard to go back, even just a few steps. We prefer to live in comfort and play Russian roulette sometimes hoping, deep down, that the projectile nose if our neighbor.
Happiness!

PS: Needless you do the kind of moral "are you complaining about pollution and food, then smoke as a turkish", so does not stick. A person who has been starting a unconsciousness addiction what should be done, spray with exhaust pipes? Cross the highway blindfolded? Going on a trip to Chernobyl '? As a smoker should try to kill themselves in other ways? At most, besides not wanting to handle the asbestos, will also try to quit smoking. And then the decision to smoke or not is at the discretion of an individual to choose.

Sympathy Poems Clipart

Blade against Vale Rossi Mario

Sometimes it's good essere italiani. Se fossimo negli Stati Uniti il vostro beniamino Valentino Rossi sarebbe nella cella accanto a quella di Wesley Snipes e bestemmierebbero come marinai chiacchierando di tasse. Ma qui in Italia non c'è la IRS, qui c'è l'Agenzia delle entrate e si patteggia, ci si accorda.

Non si capisce molto nel marasma di informazioni su internet ma pare che Wesley Snipes, l'attore di Blade e Demolition Man, debba al fisco qualcosa come 20 milioni di dollari. Giusto o sbagliato che sia, Snipes ha rubato quei soldi al popolo americano e ora deve pagare, perché evadere le tasse è come rapinare una banca, anzi peggio. Il 19 novembre 2010 Snipes è entrato in carcere per scontare la sua condanna a tre anni. Non sono un giustizialista, it is clear to me that the actor would have been enough had returned the stolen goods plus a fine Multon and made peace. But America is strange fool the IRS if you go to jail if you like oral sex you have to resign as president, if you kill the state kills you, if you try to invade Cuba, nothing happens, etcetera, etcetera. I must admit that when I was in Tennessee, that were in force, the death penalty caused me some discomfort, I do not know why, after all I did not get around to stab or cut up Quakers prostitutes.

Luckily I'm Italian, then! And so should think Vale Rossi, who was to tax something like 112 million € and is freer than a lark. Infatti il Dottore ha raggiunto un accordo col fisco italiano per cui pagherà una parte del suo debito verso la collettività e la sua fedina penale sarà identica a quella di un neonato. Quel vampiro di Wesley Snipes al confronto è un dilettante e per di più è un dilettante con le chiappe al fresco.

È proprio un paese strano il nostro. Ci si lamenta dell'evasione fiscale, una delle più alte del mondo, poi ci si accorda con gli evasori più importanti. Bisogna poi aggiungere a questa montagna organica un'altra bella palata di letame, perché ci sono sempre quelli che dicono che il nostro è un problema general-culturale, che l'evasione italiana è qualcosa di atavico, quasi fosse radicata nei geni etruschi Celts and that belong to us: "With or without an invoice?" asks the mechanic / dentist / water / etc "No," replied the worker / employee / unstable / penniless student / immigrant / etc. "Here! This is Italy, god god here and there ... "says the moralist, the fees to be paid, all must pay, is for the common good. Certainly. Very true. But you always see in each case what it means tax avoidance. Example: the worker who earns € 1000 per month, pays taxes in the envelope, without even having the opportunity to defraud the IRS. So if he goes to pay the bill from the mechanic is offered to keep in your pocket 50 / 100 €, will think their children and say "fuck taxes, friend, do not bill." Do not think twice, and I can not blame him. The same thing happens if he paid extra to do some work in black. Will take care of his wife and his sons, not the villa in Antigua, the Ferrari, the boat or the whores of the high board. For him a few euro more in your wallet means a more dignified existence and a hint of the future in the life of his family. What it means an escape from € 60 million? I do not know, I can not even imagine a figure like that, but I know that a normal family does not see three generations in a similar amount of money. The beauty is that it does not even need to live well. None need so much money to live well. Or not? What the fuck are you doing with 60 million more than the current account?

Italy also contradicts all this and more. Valentino Rossi to the Italian people was 112 million € and will now, perhaps, talking about potholes on a Caribbean beach or lying in his bedroom in London, to contemplate the parchment of his honorary degree. Marameo.

Forced To Be Barefoot At School

Thomas Romano. From the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies to the Decline of the South



gladly receive and publish the report sent to us by the author in Sicily and we thank him for having referred to the Committees Two Sicilies in his book.

Good evening, I would like my last book published by Thule "From the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies to the Decline of the South". For more information www.tommasoromano.it, and for any purchases the book is offered by the site www.tecnofferte.it. Thanks in advance.

Friendliness

Thomas Romano

A new must-publication of Thomas Romano: "Since the United Due Sicilie al declino del Sud"

Pubblicato da Thule di Palermo (via Ammiraglio Gravina 95) il nuovo volume di Tommaso Romano "Dal Regno delle Due Sicilie al declino del Sud" (pp 104), un' analisi impietosa della crisi del meridione nata dalla conquista del sud di garibaldini e piemontesi, un ritratto dei principali protagonisti e delle loro contraddizioni, un indagine socio-economica e spirituale sulle reali condizioni del Regno delle Due Sicilie con la dinastia dei Borbone, continuatrice della più antica monarchia del sud. Il volume in sei agili capitoli è arricchito da citazioni illuminanti sulle condizioni pre post-unitarie del meridione, ed ha inoltre una selezione di canti e testi letterari del legittimismo fino a d'Annunzio and Pirandello. The essay concludes with an extensive bibliography on the subjects of bibliographic guidance and a rich selection of photographs and documents, some never seen before. The book is not only an examination of historical documentary, but also offers a political-economic perspective for the social redemption of Sicily and southern Italy. He wrote the famous philosopher Antonio Livi, Emeritus Professor of Philosophy at the Pontifical Lateran University of Knowledge: "I warmly congratulate Professor. Thomas Romano for this well-documented work that sheds new light (of truth) on the history of Italy and the fight (military-political, as well as cultural) to Catholicism. "

Free Streaming Salieri Mario

the Great

Yesterday at 22:30 a phone call gave me the terrible news. Mario Monicelli died. For me it was the greatest director living, after seeing "The Great War" every other movie I thought of a school play this year. I looked over and over again "The Great War" as "A Little Man," "The usual suspects", "L'armata Brancaleone", "My friends", "Ladies and gentlemen, good night", "Bertoldo, Bertoldino and Cacasenno "and" The Marchese del Grillo ". I swear that I paid a few tears thinking that one of the few reasons to be proud of my Italian is gone so suddenly, without much fanfare, in fact Mario Monicelli, confessed atheist, does not want a state funeral. In his last public appearances he addressed the young people, especially students in protest. You must act, he said.
enough, you can not help but kneel before a man like that. Someone who can talk when you hear packages restore hope for mankind. If Mother Nature has created such a genius then wants to give us a chance. Goodbye Mario.

anderai I believe that to feel good. I can not say now that if you pass away

Irai to our paradise of the Christians, now it's your people and your God first,

for sure but I think it will be better than this life that we allotted ...

no longer suffers from the cold ... And the heat ... Neither hunger nor thirst ... Or a staff ... Neither scared ...

But always a beautiful sky and the birds on the branches of trees in bloom

and the angels that will give you the most pagnocche of bread and cheese and wine and plenty of milk and you

say, 'Do you want old? Piglia! Still want it? Just grab, eat, drink, old, full facts.

old And sleep, sleep ... sleep ... sleep '.

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Call Ishmael ... I need.

In the story, as in the literature, there have always been survivors. Shipwrecked fortunate among comrades drowned, survivors of disasters, sinking, mass deportations, human disasters, announced or unpredictable, nuclear accidents, nuclear explosions (there is a that this has been done to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a subscriber of atomic! ), whaling, curses and prophecies and so on and so on. If I look at literature, I am reminded of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel T. Coleridge condemned to tell the curse that destroyed his crew left alive and he alone, or Ishmael, the apprentice whaler, the only survivor of the disaster of the Pequod and the defeat of Captain Ahab, or Lemuel Gulliver, condemned to tell his stories of dwarfs and giants davanti ad astanti increduli (per fortuna che aveva portato con se alcune pecore in miniatura); potrei continuare con Robinson Crusoe e Ulisse, ma la memoria inizia a vacillare, non ho libri con me e la connessione a Internet non è buona, insomma potrei scrivere delle stupidaggini. Comunque abbiamo capito, sono tutti superstiti che hanno una storia da raccontare, sono la parte fortunata di un disastro.

Anche i libri di storia sono costellati di sopravvissuti: pensiamo ai perseguitati di tutte le guerre, di tutte le epurazioni e le discriminazioni più violente che poi scrivono e raccontano le loro vicende. Più che a chiunque altro, penso a Primo Levi, naufrago della follia collettiva novecentesca, deportato ad Auschwitz e tornato, somehow, I live among the living. The story of Primo Levi, as he himself says, it can easily be compared to the greek myth of Cassandra, a being condemned by the gods to predict disasters, however, without being believed by others. Levi told things that are so horrible that people found it hard to believe. Fortunately, the testimonies of hundreds of people, pictures and movies, have helped to bring in our history books too ugly chapter.

But what is the value of telling a story so bad? What is read of the horrors of war, if not sadistic and morbid interest of the same human eyes that stop to look around the scene of an accident? Well, it is quite Obviously, it should serve not to repeat the same blunders of our fathers. It should, but it is not, at least not entirely. The wars and deportations are not finished in 1945. The people have continued to follow their captain Ahab to the white whale. The wars have just moved, but I'm still here on planet Earth, from the nearby Balkans to Africa, the Middle East and now in the Koreas. Have moved and do not make us more afraid, make us just feel better and more civil wars because we do them from home, with a credit card and PIN. Nor did the deportations and expulsions based on ethnicity are not even finished and you are moved: which place in Europe is more like a concentration camp of a CPT (now CIE)? Just read the report by Fabrizio Gatti to realize that we have not really learned anything from all these Ishmael.

I wonder if the fault is ours, not that we listen, we must necessarily give freedom of speech for Holocaust deniers and revisionists of all stories, or are survivors, that, because the privileged, have not been able to make quite dramatic and their story credible? Yes, because, as he complained Primo Levi in \u200b\u200b"The Drowned and the Saved", those who return to tell it did not really hit rock bottom. Those who could really scare us with their stories, teach and perhaps even learn from the mistakes of others and, above all, unfortunately deaths, has "seen the Gorgon." But no, we can not rely on Primo Levi, who was too strict with himself and suffered the usual "survivor syndrome", he wondered why he was saved from drowning group. Even Captain Miller, at the end of the movie "Saving Private Ryan" is asked if he deserved such a privilege. They ask both, perhaps, on the bodies of those who have put our feet back on its feet. It is the syndrome of the survivor, that's all. So these old sailors are useless, they are "good to fry" as they say in my part.

Thus, one inconvenient witnesses of disasters and revisions, we continue to follow our captain hunting the white whale because it is a hard, never wrong, has been done alone. Now that it is he who gives orders to the pilot, we can forgive the sins of the past, present and future in the name of a bigger picture that we will understand in due course. Our whaling, he says, is among the most beautiful and admired around the world. So said Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Pinochet, Franco, Napoleon, and so on. And today, what have we learned from these adventures ramponieri and sailors? Those captains crazy, visionary and suicide are still among us? Only the next few survivors will be able to say, while we continue to congratulate those who kill the albatross, at least until the curse is unleashed. And when it breaks out, every man for himself.

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How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the cine-panettone

Hours 20.30, projection booth. To my left there's a good part of what I think is the magic of cinema, a technology that, when it comes to film, has changed little since the Lumiere brothers had built: the 35 mm projector. Not I can describe it to you in words, the projector, you should first see it, know it, touch it and then only then you might appreciate the principles of operation - the film is not blind faith, you have to love it, otherwise you do not believe that really exists. A machine, projector, mastered the skill with which the laws of physics, mechanics, optics, acoustics and plumbing and so perfect, is entrusted to my unworthy hands. Sometimes I wonder if they are profane or only a privileged level of a workman 3b (or both).

But I said ... at 20.30, the projection booth. The film has already put in the car, sleek and glossy wraps a train of gears, the leaves and follows the curves of another and then another one to finally reach the bottom reel. I can then press the green button that gives Power to the motor, I can raise the damper, turn off room lights and turn up the switch that turns on the lamp and the reader of the soundtrack. Jesus Christ would have been much more successful if some time had also made such a miracle (and maybe even the Romans instead of sentencing him to death he would be elected prime minister).

short, a contraption that can make us dream of other lives and other stories for a couple of hours is certainly the ticket price. But not always, though.

So, I tell you? Ah, yes, turn off the lights and start the screening room. What we are looking today? War? Spying? Romance on a desert island? Crime? Comedy? No, the film is now part of a fairly recent genre, you probably still do not study the DAMS: The cine-panettone Christmas. Cinepanettoni for friends, for many the only film of the year saw the film and a few rich thirteenth in the face of criticism of the industry and cine-intellectuals there Ghezzi.

I do not want the usual criticism of the quality of these disgusting things are not worth the film on which they are developed and 'then that would be like saying shit to shit (oops, I made it), I just want to try to understand why so many people you information on the timing, they telephone, loading the children into the car and arrive well in advance to spend € 7.50 each. The plots of these works of gourmet Christmas we know, are always the usual, there is no twist, no surprise stories of the rich and treacherous Where's My Car Abarth bronze metallic perpetuated on the screens every Christmas the same as their own . But, then why? Perhaps because there is no surprises, no disappointment, and the father of a family can feel comfortable, 'that his son will see at most a few tits nude Massimo Boldi and some that may end sodomized by a bunch of homosexuals dressed as a policeman. The child, record images that he likes to kill and saws. But it is the quality of the film or the quality of the public that disgusts me so much? But then, what do I know the quality of the public? Of course, not a conference at Harvard, but even the Ku Klux Klan. It would seem the ward after a mass lobotomy. But even this then: the frontal lobes are not lacking, there are no scars and no one loses almost drool at the mouth. So? It will, perhaps, that we Italians are a bit 'as these characters, dead pussy, rich villains but with a heart of gold that comes on to the happy ending? The Americans and the western us the cine-cake? Perhaps, as you'll see more and more and multiply: The Bold is the off the contenders, the Pieraccioni (yes, he too, through discounts and tits guaranteed), the snot, then the Winx and now we bring you even Aldo, Giovanni and Giacomo. They look like film, but they are tailored clothing market research: there is a part of the population having to spend € X, we make a film about the fourteen year olds in love, there is a part of the population who at Christmas does not look even know what going to see a middle-aged super-rich that spariamogli cornifica his wife with a tissue. Yeah, why not just see on TV these holes with meat around, we want to see in the cinema.

But there's more. To demonstrate that our gender is the national fast-food cinema, just read the credits. Open wide mouths, the bolus of popcorn will fall on the red carpet of the chairs and the floor because some of these films receive grants reserved for films of particular cultural importance etc., etc..

But I do not understand why my country? Can anyone tell me what I do not understand. I do not pretend that projects Eisenstein in Russian with German subtitles at Christmas (do not look even that), but a light film of high quality for all "exist right? But quality is a point of view? It will be ... But I do not know, I've tasted this cake but I can not feel any taste. Then, I prefer the cakes my grandmother's increasingly rare now, but always gustose.

Alla fine, devo confessarlo, passata la maratona natalizia, quando rimetterò le pellicole nei loro scatoloni e li riconsegnerò al corriere, chiuderò la grande porta del cinema e seduto piangerò piano, al buio, in solitudine perché quei film mi mancheranno, perché non posso farci niente, anche io li amo, ormai. Non mi importa più di sapere se ce lo vogliono mettere là dietro, in basso a tradimento o se siamo noi che ci pieghiamo a novanta gradi e che ringraziamo mentre fumiamo una sigaretta di rito.

Vi amo anch'io cinepanettoni, ecco i miei 7,50 euro, posto centrale prego. Ma si può entrare con la bibita?

PS: Do not worry about the critics, I think with the cuts to public education that are planned will have a guaranteed clientele among the next generation.
Merry Christmas.