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Media Mediterranean Mediterranean

Living in a middle ground there fosters awareness of completely different, is an attitude inherent in our chromosomes, in memory of our bodies, as the inhabitants of the center of a universe made, culturally self-sufficient and thriving. Here it also becomes a completely different supplementing different, because I can recognize in me by raising a touchstone exactly what differentiate us, because what they are not open my eyes endless horizons of what I could be, that I may become, or even what a time it was.

The Mediterranean, which is made by the identity of women and men facing this sea isolated enclosed, almost spoiled by the embrace of the land is in a potentially everlasting, the place chosen for this exchange of life as flowing currents that move, under the patina of salt.

Some, then, the story and describing it, modify it, enhancing it or, worse, distort it. It is true that our eyes work like kaleidoscopes reflective, and sometimes wonderful design geometries and some other terrible colorful jumbles of dark tones.

What is the way to approach the media to the story of the Mediterranean and the people who inhabit it? What interest is implied in this or that way to mediate a reality? Telling is

a big job, you never know if what you say is true or if you are following your physical or ideological hallucinations. Yet at the same time, because the collective imagination on which the real stories need to continue to permeate the wonderful scenic structure that we have built as habitat. And the Mediterranean is a wonderful theater full of scenes.


F. Alessandro Motta

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Thought Thought weekly weekly weekly

Why judge?
Would you like to be judged?
Acceptance combines what the court has separated!

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Thought

want from other respect, understanding and love?
The others want the same things to you!

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Collision # 3 Bomba the cemetery

I did not understand why but my dad went to the cemetery. I have appended. They were ages since we went, even in religious holidays. The return to the place made me realize how barbaric as custom. Bring flowers on a decaying corpse is miles away from my idea of \u200b\u200bremembrance and respect. On the site you showed up even my uncle, who laid off does not give up spending figures for Star to buy flowers to put on a grave, flowers that no one will appreciate that no one will look and no one will say thank you. When I die I will be cremated. Indeed, to be on the safe side I will detonate. Try to bring the flowers that are now scattered in pieces all around.

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Sunday, November 28, 2010


THANKS?

Why say "thank you"? Who is that thanks? What is the sense of gratitude?

say thank you can have different interpretations, from a true and deep significance of the heart to joke with or rhetorical - conventional.

Man has lost on its way to the omnipotence on earth, the deep sense of the word "THANKS".

First ask yourself this simple question: "Who's saying grace?" Or as a part of me that Ego or "heart," he said Thanks?

In asking the question before us is the eternal conflict between ego and heart / soul. The individual
a bit 'lost try hard to answer.

There is a physiological resistance of the ego to admit that thanks were not expressed with the heart.

At this point the question that you as an individual in research I would do would be this:
"How can that happen with both my heart and not conventional?"

You can not see reality by focusing only on the "arrow" neglecting the "bow" and the "arm" he pulled!

If you want your prayer answered both "Heart" and do not mind even if sincere, you have to concentrate on you as one who pulls the "arrow".

The word "Thank You" is an expression of love for others, pure and unconditional love.
addition, the sense of gratitude and unconditional acceptance that what is in the now.
Accept all may seem strange and impossible, but it might not be so if you have the inner knowing that what is happening to you!
According to the law of cause and effect or the law of attraction, what happens to you brings to your attention the vibrational field similar your thoughts and energy fields that make up your body, mind and spirit.

saying thank you and open up their "Being" the endless "doors" Existence. We can and we must say thanks not only to a person, but to all those forms that express the life and materially and otherwise, are energetically. "With grass you've hosted," "Thank you provided food to my body as necessary" "Thank God for all the gifts, seen and unseen," "Thank you, because this morning I could wake up to Life" by "enemy" because by your actions and my suffering, I learned that .... etc ... ..

you who shoots the arrows, and you have to be as soul-heart to feel this love for your neighbor. "Love thy neighbor as thyself." But perhaps the heart of the problem is this: But do you love? And if you do not love yourself how can you feel love for your neighbor? If you do not have inner awareness of a deep feeling we call love, as you can get to the other more distant from you with this feeling?
The answer is: You can not love your neighbor unless you first love yourself.

To love ourselves, we must necessarily be quiet and listen carefully to all our inner movement, mental and spiritual ... Contemplation, meditation , Meditation, prayer .... From this initial movement must happen Voluntary Service for your next, without any order ... just selfless service without expectation of any kind, just "Here and Now." With the aid
Service Your "Heart" to open up to that size is not mental / rational / logical / cognitive, which cleans and clarifies the dynamics of your interiors.

The practice of yoga with the various disciplines has attached great historical merit of restoring the individual the ability to see beyond the "arrow" and to recontact the eternal witness who holds the "bow".

Among the souls I know, with rarity that I feel gratitude that happens between them is expressed with love, but when the same appeal to me, I feel the truth of the Heart of the very simple word. What does this mean? Do not answer that question I leave you in the hope that these pages you can groped for an answer. Later in time I will give my answer in another article.

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homosexuality can not exist

Lemma: Sex without love there.
Proof: Just write any word on Google Images and check the results. On average, each page contains a couple of pictures of porn more or less heavy. No need to explain it to me.

Lemma: Love exists without sex.
Proof: The unrequited love is the prime example that can demonstrate the thesis. In addition there are links at a distance, married men with no penis, and so on.

Theorem: Homosexuality does not exist.
Proof: First, you must understand What is meant by homosexuality. If you are going to love how the people of the same gender, then homosexuality only exists so apparent. For the love comes from the encounter of two souls who identify themselves as similar and decide they're too good together to stay just friends you see once in a while. The strong feeling of love then comes from knowledge, is related to the soul and personality. Gender is a person unrelated to the physical NL Nederlands therefore can not influence. If you want to be understood as sex between persons of the same gender, then homosexuality is nonsense. The animal instinct for sex leads to the generation of offspring, but this is not in today absolutely true. Today sex is a bargaining chip to modivi economic carrieristici, pleasure, pregnancy is the side effect. In general, sex is just to try rubbing of the genitals for pleasure. Close your eyes. The rub is, no matter what against. Men, women, pillows, cats radiators. So in each pair, regardless of whether it is man and woman, man and man, woman and woman. There's the rub, there are no children. There are no differences of any kind, then homosexuality does not exist even in a sexual component. If you consider homosexuality as a set of sex and love, see what I said earlier and do the sum. The thesis is proved.

Corollary: Heterosexuality does not exist.

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Mower

In the new place I moved to where there are fifteen houses. Each cottage has a garden so there are a dozen gardens. In the gardens growing grass (not in my, in this case the grass every my neighbor is greener in my garden because my sense that it is devoid of grass land). When the grass grows and stretches too much, each family brings out the mower, a tool that cuts the grass. So there are a dozen mowers. We can say that the grass is cut every two weeks. Or at least on average, in my garden the grass is cut very more rarely. Always assuming that there is grass in my garden, which is not. However, fifteen mower whose actual use is, exaggerate, four hours per month which translates into about a hundred hours a year. In a year there are 8760 hours (eight, seven, six, is not it curious?). It means that a lawn mower stays on for about 1, 1415% of the time (-, 1415 as π, is not it curious?). I do not know what is the average price to take home a cutting and laziness forces me of undocumented. So for me a lawnmower costs X . Or every family has spent X to take home the mower. The factory was built mower 15X and happy. This is because the economy is based on the consumption end and the freehold. If my neighborhood was smart, but unfortunately it is composed of humans, would have done this line of reasoning. Each family pays one-fifteenth of X and only buy a mower that is used in turn. This investment would have an efficiency much better because the mower would remain on for the 17.1232% of the time (one, two, three, is not it curious?). The mechanical degradation caused by time to a lesser extent affect the wear of the cutting. The grass would also be cut. Each family would have to fourteen fifteenths X to spend on other things. The factory had polluted mower one-fifteenth, would reach its production quota in one-fifteenth of the time and the workers could occupy the fourteen-fifteenth of their time to produce other things, garden tools, or maybe midgets gypsum. Bam. The economic system to a crawl by logical reasoning. Try to define the economy a science, now . I see what I can clean with your degree in economics. Maybe the mower.

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November, 2010

What would the movie of our lives without a shred of the soundtrack?
Well, since we do not to rags, we decided to create a phone book ad hoc to whisper a possible theme sound for when you travel by train through the front window and thoughts elsewhere, for when walking in a park and any What is so cinematic that you even imagine where to put the camera, for when you are absolutely alone, for cigarette bedtime, for a fleeting thought. Consider it a gesture of care.

On each occasion, including n.zero, you will find in a final titoletto, I wanted to be Nick Hornby, and a list of 10 songs, with some probability the author / songwriter out of the list will vary in output. We will then
way to add the songs in the list in the blog through a playlist (the playerino) so as to read and to feel well!

(This is our challenge of the new millennium: to be able to enter 'I'm palyerino without the help of a computer! Help!)


wanted to be Nick Hornby


Bob Corn 1: Cold and Gold ,
We do not need the outside

2 Roni Size: Brown paper bag ,
New forms

3 The Chap: We'll see to your breakdown ,
Well done Europe

Enrico Brizzi and No. 4 6: Bernhard Hartman,
The pilgrim's arms ink

5 Cesare Basile: Closet wonder ,
between your body and dinner

6 The Postal Service: Such Great Heights ,
Give up

7 Antony and the Johnson My lady story ,
I'm a bird now

8 Le loup garou: Wipiti dance dance, dance dance
Wipiti

9 Don Seventh The Gospel of Toto ,
Night Mother

10 Lali Puna: Scary World Theory ,
Scary World Theory



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Phenomenology of rain or an inch thick

Plice stochastic over our heads, houses, roads.

folds creep in the crevices of rocks, roots emerged of former forests in the cracks of the walls of houses, old or new or old.

rivulet Fell silent or suction cups whipping against their faces and wash walls and, sometimes, and corrode, others.

downpour, drizzle, slight wetness, torrential rainfall, slap natural cyclone condition definitive definition.

The rain soaks peasants, out of malice or mere gravity, permeates every place of himself and softens, breaking up stones, languid ties of the things that all of a sudden, they indulge to futility of mortals and their properties become mobile and descend drifts muddy and terrible nature of a placid, whirling and placid, placid and impetuous, noisy and calm, that nature, from his point of view, does not care.

And the water that overflows, overflows, overflowing, regurgitation, vomiting, rejoices, is free, does not flow according to the natural way - that we have buried, and on which we built palaces - but still: in homes, crops, between the bricks that break over our heads bathed in an inescapable consequence.

Even widens the earth beneath our feet and try to swallow, pre-buried, because one of us has run just annoyed, indifferent to our crawling, our kill for a domain that may have little water disappear. After all, we live in uncertain over an inch thick.

F. Alessandro Motta

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Puddle

... I will begin to fly down and
more
down toward the bottom, to the clouds reflected

and perhaps beyond.


(from the puddle, W. Szymborska)

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Opposition passive

Now I understand. I admit, even I was fooled, but now it is made clear. Several times I thought about it but I did not think it could actually be implemented and enforceable and tantomento already in place. Passive opposition, here's how it's called. The Democratic Party is not vegetating, not an ethereal ghost in the background of the political landscape and is not a den of corpses. No, by contrast, is a tiger in the bush, is the eagle that controls the other, is a pair of red eyes in the night. Observe from a distance but acts, approaches, strip and winds. Masking the smell of the tiger is moving forward. Without a rustle the eagle is losing altitude. Wait for the opponent's misstep and every error is a small, microscopic step toward him, slow and inexorable. The unsuspecting opponent thinks he has things under control and does not realize that his every step is a new metro route in the direction of a deadly trap. Antagonizing the entire Italian homosexual population is a gross error, the predator exploits and later in the Silence. Wait for their prey to land on its own because of mistakes it makes, and many, and when the optimal time the tiger leap and the eagle will rain down from heaven, the inevitable and fatal blow. The perfect strategy to beat a formidable opponent like Berlusconi, the opposition has understood and is being implemented with determination. So finally will change and the opposition will play its checkmate against Berlusconi as a politician and a man. In about eight hundred years.

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Anger

interview multiple life told by fifty-six words, which intertwine and overlap as might happen when we talk with friends (and often "Sparla") of someone familiar to everyone. Fifty-six items that were it not for the final summary, not even recall at the end of the novel, both are mixed well in a biography tracing the edge of the mythological. An essay on the relativity, as is inevitable when the same story is told by different people. So different that, at some point, it seems that they are not really telling the same story.

Anger embodies all the characteristics of orality and the biography by eliminating the traditional units of space and time. Like any biography, this one is dressed up with numerous anecdotes, stories enhanced by the size of the memory of a personal past that almost is ennobled by the fact of having participated Buster Casey, moreover, "" a dead famous can not turn down the street without seeing one million best friends in real life he never knew .

get to read the novel thinking that more than half of respondents are excited mythomaniac, and then suddenly every event has its space, a space which, however, goes beyond time. Vital to the novel is the concept of relative time, without which we could introduce the subject of relativity ego. is vital for the plot, it is vital for the portrait of the protagonist who is always present, in the words and memories, but also physically present himself in more places and at different times, as if the mass responsible for curvature of spacetime. And in this reality on the multiplicity involved in a whirlwind of events - places - when it is basically free to choose "if" and "who" believe. No one mind, or all lies. But in the end " when everyone starts to tell the same lie, then it is not a lie. No more . "

Mariafrancesca Scilipoti

between the lies

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Revenge of the people can do all things Lego

I tried, really. I tried not to write about it. But they insist, continue, feed my desire to say something. The conclusion is clear from these lines: they have won on my self-control. Sarah Scazzi. Damn her. All the people who do not know now loves. Everyone talks about it, every program, every newspaper, every website information, any social network. There is dancing in a university reform obscene, but it is not important. The government is on the verge of collapse, but it is not important. Unemployment is the highest, but it is not important. There is only Sarah. If you did not disappear forty days before pulling out of the hat, this would be if Sarah is not no crap. But here it is, the news increased up to the hype and when the miracle happens (are the body) is all a burst of tears, sweet phrases on Facebook, YouTube tributes in his honor. You know what an honor to the memory, a video uploaded to YouTube by a stranger. Thanks a lot. And then the death threats to his uncle, give it to the people, kill him, hang him, yes, because he must die, why do not respect life. Kill those who do not respect life. Kill. Those who do not respect life. There are problems in the logical implications. Not to mention that now the uncle is now the ogre uncle for any news or Facebook user, before the confession, before the test, before trial. These people, who claim the same innocence until the third grade of trial, the same as defending Berlusconi even after major final judgments in this case, no, no, he killed a little girl who did not even know and never would have known, and so should be hanged. Killed. Tortured. Torn. And now also the cousin, the first victim, then the police and now the question is already a murderer to be buried next to his father. Views that change in a flash on a crime that has ruined a person. Guest that never change on people who ruin a nation. Both assessments of the same group of people. Still problems of logic. Absence of even the slightest doubt. Why do people say "I am innocent " must be considered such, but who says "I am guilty " must be immediately killed and tortured. Why justice is only for offenders who say they are innocent, that does not confess, that do not yield. The Franzoni. The Knox. Yet the question should be, by the actions of his uncle. Why, or is there something in, or is it really the murderess most stupid I have ever trod this planet. The question must arise. As the doubt must arise in the fait accompli. It's called rape, after death? A corpse can not say no or yes, it is an object. As a sofa. We can talk about the rape of a sofa if I sit there without him to be okay? So it is just vilipedio a corpse in the end. Murder and outrage. Like dozens of drunk novice boys who pull in people and leave a die coated with asphalt. Boys are definitely a subset of children who are now all vindictive on Facebook. The same. In the end it all comes down to actions and logical consequences, logical that in such a situation, and in many other similar, there is in any way. There is no inconsistency, no, but the rules of logic change. No one knows how, nobody knows why. It can be concluded with a final note on the logic of the law is a more severe punishment for rape and murder or homicide and contempt of a corpse? The end result is the same, but the second choice is much easier to put into practice not to mention that, from a practical point, is much less painful for the victim, then the punishment should be milder. Practical life does not follow the rules commutative algebra. And the law?

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I remain


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Susan Scholl is an Austrian journalist. Moscow correspondent for the TV in his country, has been busy, like others before her, the current situation in Chechnya, Russian Federation. As Anna Politkovskaya: a woman as a symbol of the complaint and engaged in journalism, one of the first to have spoken to the world of abuse suffered by the people of Chechnya. And it is she who must be the existence of this book: "Girls of War" in fact, from research carried out for a feature on the post-Russia Politkovskaya.
The investigation of Scholl describes a journey in the Caucasus through the stories of women faced.
Women who have experienced the deportation, hunger, fear of not having food for their children. Women who have experienced war. As Eva, a constant presence in the book, almost a guide in this journey into despair. Eva, mother of two and wife of a domineering husband who beats her. The same Eve that he chose to document the reality of Chechnya with a camera, putting constantly threatened his life. A choice also made by Natalija, who was killed two years after the publication in German of this book. And Lisa, a famous singer Chechen foreign to Moscow, which recounts his time with the songs. But Sarah, Rosa and many other Chechen women forced to live in terror of a war never ended and the macho tradition of the "law of the mountains."
maintaining a marginal position, to be discreet observation, the Scholl leave the word to the many protagonists of this book. His direct intervention are rare, limited to expressions of admiration, surprise and sometimes a misunderstanding. Faced with the living conditions of its interlocutors and to the hope that still exists when there is nothing left to hope for, a Chechen living in an extreme condition, perfectly summed up by the poem narrated by Eva on the old man cries, where "Spend an angel asks why she cries, then promises to alleviate his pain. But when the old man said to be Chechen, the angel sits beside her and begins to cry with him ".

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Thank you for the ultimate oxymoron.

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"UFO IN HEAVEN": AIRPORT CLOSED FEAR IN CHINA

"UFO IN HEAVEN": AIRPORT CLOSED
, FEAR IN CHINA-VIDEO

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Airport Baotou, Inner Mongolia (China), was closed a few nights ago because of what might have been a UFO. According to international media, the airport authorities have been deterred by a collision of aircraft with a mysterious object in the sky, which you could barely see the lights. A passerby was also filmed a video, released hours on YouTube, where you can see some blurred lights, which illuminate the sky and then vanish. It is not the first time in China the alarm Ufo: already last July, some planes were diverted Beijing and Shanghai to other nearby airports, because of such apprehensions

http://www.leggonline.it/articolo.php?id=83093

VIDEO

http://www.leggonline.it/video . php? IDV = 5644 & id_news = 83093

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The Girls of the war and the end of the world Weather Wonderland

Dark - Water - Weather - Gray - Unicorns

are the first words that come to mind when I think of The end of the world Haruki Murakami . You
Send a particularly fascinating for their subject matter: the walls of the world does not coincide with the walls of the mind, neither the physical nor the time and, if the physical boundaries of collapsing within the mental ones we could even experiment with the idea of \u200b\u200beternity.
The story of a man, a cibermatico, one who works with his brain as a kind of body cryptographer, storing data and confuse them with your subconscious, is a complicated work, which could lead to the implosion of the thin membrane that between what I see from what I see .
The physical world, a sort of post-modern Tokyo, is home in its depth, in the dungeons, monsters terrible, the Invisible , who live in the darkness, the impenetrable curtain of an unconscious savage and archaic. They are, perhaps, the unspoken traumas, emotions forcluse, the inner cave where we can not access without the risk to our own physical safety. They live in watery places, where water forms the perfect environment for them and at the same time keeps them in check. At the same time, which one? What the world out there or what the world down there, or even that of the world there? The time it shows, once again, for what it is: a relative concept to places, to perception, the space of events. And in the mind long you can last forever and forever in the mind can last five minutes in the world of things that touch.
There are, in addition to outright villains, those who are because they want to get hold of information on a secret project (which I can not reveal because of privacy!) And are called the Semiotic , and for a world of archaic symbols and forces that do not want to be interpreted, the Semiotic are too annoying.

... and then there's a perfect city but very sad and gray, where nobody seems to have feelings and they all live happily (?) An inactive life. Upon their arrival in the city are separated from their shadows, because it Scordino of bodies that were and remain for more than they are now, mind images of a refugee. In this city there is a fear that the Guardian does not leave out anyone, and who takes care of thousands of unicorns, who collect the dreams (lives?) Until the arrival in each city and a library where someone has the task of recording them.
there is only one way to escape: dive into the dark waters of a lake.


Recommended Movies: Blade Runner , Inception

Alessandro Motta

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book

's weather in your library?
Sun, storm, cloudy?
What are the highs and lows?
We are collecting information from libraries of Sicily.

If you have a library and want to participate:
capperi.redazione @ gmail.com

Every month Capers! publish the book island weather

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Number Zero

Care and loved ones,
is the time to participate. The objective of

OssiDiferro is to publish a paper magazine that follows the guidelines of that occur just waiting to be lived, expanded, discussed by all and all of you.

We plan to prepare a number zero, a bit 'to see the effect that is, a bit 'to see if the experiment can officials. There

and we add a dummy. We have identified certain items fixed and other clearances for reviews, unpublished notes, theories, reflections.
The headings are these:
- weather book: a sort of observatory on the book market, we will start from our region and then conquer the universe ...
- diadainconsupertrafra books: reviews that have a theme "behind", I found some examples on www.rivistacapperi.blogspot.com
- mald'estro : book of poetry and poetry
- think deeply : book on the philosophy and filsofia
- books to read and reread : a space dedicated to our evergreen
- blind dates : previews of new releases of our favorite publishers
- cartolinee : photographs, collages, strips, portraits, sketches that are came to mind stimulated by a book by title, by an author.

Anyone wishing to participate send us an email to capperi.redazione @ gmail.com by October 1
We give you a time limit not to force you to do what you want / can do, but because we need to organize, absolutely zero to the number of working Nov. 1.

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I firmly believe that Tim's advertising would not be able to sell water to Africans without showing a pair of tits. Without considering then that those that have are those of Belen. I do not know what to believe. Belen, currently elected apex of beauty, charm and the Bravo TV is free instead of just these three characteristics. Just look straight in the face to find objective evidence of Darwinian theory. Just to hear her speak to know that is silly. Yet it is considered good because it shows her ass in a cathode ray tube as is the case for dozens of other women in the world of television (Ferilli, Arcuri, Bellucci) all scimmionesche the limit of his mustache, and yet mysteriously desirable. Oh God, mysteriously, not so much. At the end we know that the element of beauty goes by the Convention of the show = beautiful woman . How cute ladybirds bring luck, and do not crush the walk on the finger. Well, the ladybug is a beetle, it only changes the color. Yet those dots make it happy by hiding the fact that this is a bug to be crushed under the heel of the shoe. Racism invertebrate. Virtually the beauty, then, is largely on the fame. And so, knowing that "half-height is beauty", the rest is known. Here is what will probably be the new star who placed advertisements in a bikini in Tim.

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A thought just

Solitude How much choice is as pleasant terrifying loneliness sets. The hard part is separating the two.

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Casual

I do not know how the quantum physics, I never had the opportunity (desire) to deepen. So the gap in advance of my speech. Hello. Time: generating random numbers with a computer you can see perfectly well that the case does not exist. Sure, the numbers are generated by computer algorithms, so I'm not really deterministic random numbers. Knowing the initial data of the machine, we could predict the number. So I looked for a better example of randomness. The traditional currency, the classic dice. Nothing. Knowing all the data (force of the launch, spin, trajectory, distance from the table, the length of the beard of God) can predict the exact output of the result. Difficult but possible. Nothing doing, the case can not occur, every example that I remember the mind is nothing but a complication that requires endless parameters (number of players, number of shoes of Abraham, number of partners of Paris Hilton) but never comes to be truly random. So the randomness is actually a word likely to mask laziness or ignorance.

Someone: What day is it today?
Injo : It's random. Someone
: Could you look on the calendar?
Injo : Can not predict it.

But even then the human being could be like a machine, a computer is extremely complex and with the greatest needs to connect to other computers via external connectors and the appropriate ports. Our brains may be simply a mass of logic statements that meet strict an external input in a predetermined way. Goodbye free will, the miracle of life goodbye. The world is undergoing stimuli our bodies, our bodies communicate with the brain that reacts in a way difficult to predict, but predictable once in possession of the right data and creates new challenges, creating an infinite loop. Everything we do, we have done and will do is predetermined by the logical structure of our brain structure created by the biological phenomena that occurred during our growth and thus determined by the rigid laws of chemistry and physics. Then they fall in the toilet all religious theories. And with all their ideas wonderfully hypocritical that a robot could never paint the Mona Lisa or composing a symphony Beethoven. Illusion. Under the right stimuli input could do this and more. Building the inventions of John Muciaccia and example. Rationally judge the work of Berlusconi, for example. I would do something unexpected to nip this theory, but anything I can think is, in fact, generated from my mind, be included in the general idea of \u200b\u200bthe speech. And, thanks to the impossibility of going back in time, you can not see if the same input may produce different effects under the same conditions. Bad news for those who believe they can write their own destiny by itself, although this phrase seems to be taking some manga. We are all particles that make what they are programmed, maybe we are a large sub-computer. The computer of God who apparently did not even put a virus. But there's good news: to get past the Turing test will now be much easier.

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impartial mind on a personal basis and various Latinisms

Berlusconi said Fini is unacceptable in its role as it is no longer impartial. Why does not want to be with him. Instead he was in his own party as long as it was. Obviously.

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My "tell me when when when"

injo@email.nh : Hi, I wanted to know if it was available for an appointment.

prof@email.nh: Yes

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Paras-sites

Blogger asks me if I want to add buttons to quickly share my content. No, hog dog. I do not want to share anything. Hundreds of blogs and microblogging surviving only srubacchiata stuff here and there, shared stuff, stuff from other sites mentioned and reported that srubacchiano, share, quote, and shows on other sites and so on. The point is not so much the theft of ideas, of those who cares, my worth little or nothing and if someone manages to make them yield good for him, no, the point is that it is full of idiots who open blog and microblogging crap and only several 2.0 Why does so much but not having anything to write or, more generally, being unable to think, live from another's property. Pests 2.0. You want a world based on the economy and then you want to share. Hold fast to fuck. So to speak. Fatevelo hand. So to speak.

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invite Gaddafi and expect not say long live Islam and women would turn down an invitation to Obama and expect that it is not black.

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My So just controversy in August (one year)

has passed without a mesata I posted anything. To be honest I've never even thought of anything to post, never mind. Even if I could not have. Made with reference to the various posts on the quality of services 3. What has changed this time. Everything, or maybe nothing. I do not watch the news more. Always start with the news, this incident why was he murdered and the electoral law, the process short, Berlusconi against all, the book of Amanda Knox, cocaine at Paris Hilton. In the midst of tons of manure I tried to dig, but nothing came out, I just smeared shit. You might as well quit. I read a few books, endangered human life, the magical world of witchcraft and Ende. I learned the laws that govern the transmission of heat, but suffer the heat like a dog. One of those forgotten in the backseat of the car when you come to know and do not move more than Simmental. I learned the laws that govern the motion of the Flud and sudo it a lot. I learned the laws which govern the vibrations of the strings, but still do not know how to play the guitar, even the piece which is simple but porcogiuda how do you fuck my fingers do not do what I tell him to do. I studied the numbers and I have learned. It does not seem a great achievement. Supermario and I played for the first time I had the desire to finish it. Or maybe it was just an adventure to be particularly short, you know, these new games are always a bit 'too short. Or it was just easier than usual. I suck at playing Supermario. I get anxiety every time there's a timer in a game. Or in life. I did gardening. I stole the rocks but I could not go to the beach, raising my record four consecutive summers. The rocks I've stolen from the river mouth. Small rocks, not Hulk. On the other hand I feet are torn playing barefoot football on porphyry. I ate a few pounds of yogurt together in a few pounds of biscuits to those who think that only when they see an old man could eat. And yet here I am. But perhaps this does not violate the rule that much. Four weeks of study interspersed with sweat, little sleep and hunt mosquitoes. I learned to hunt mosquitoes. The secret is to not hit them while they are on the wall because the paint explode like a bomb and not go away, to stay over the imprint of the shoe. Just wait for the flight and then, bam, like a paddle with a tennis ball. They die instantly. They fall on the floor. You can wipe out easily. You take my blood, I'll take your life. Karma summer.