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Thank you Grandparents! The game of



NonnaPapera ha appena preso il suo treno, lasciandoci nel bel mezzo dell'uscita di un molare... anche questo fa parte del gioco ;)

È online il mio ultimo video su la tv dei Piccolini !

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yes

MaritoZen: momo, vuoi un po' di parmigiano sulla pasta?
momo: no
MZ: allora tieni, ecco la forchettina, pasta senza formaggio...
momo: no
MZ: non ti va?
momo: no
MZ: allora la mangia papà!
momo: no
MZ: ...
momo: ...
MZ: senti, che ne dici se inventiamo un nuovo gioco...
momo: no
MZ: but listen, listen if you like this game: it's called game, and yes you this: we all say yes!
momo ...
MZ: mother by a pool Dad?
I said yes!
MZ: we want to eat pasta all together?
in chorus: SIII!
MZ: You want some mom 'of cheese?
I said yes!
MZ: momo you know it say yes?
momo: shì
MZ: bravo! yes!
momo: shì!
MZ:
yes I said yes
MZ: Yes
momo: shì!
MZ: ohhh that good, did you hear momo mom can say yes!
I said yes! MZ
here, momo then keep on playing!
momo: shì !
MZ: keep your fork! want to eat pasta?
momo: no
...

- Console-web Monitor

Burlesque

Burlesque

A vedere uno spettacolo di burlesque. Amici ti spiegano che "non è volgare", mica lo spogliarello caro ai pipparoli di un'epoca fa, e nemmeno il più moderno strip-tease squallido di periferia, con le calze a rete bucate sulla chiappa, perché il burlesque, colpa o merito sicuramente della maschera e delle piume, custodisce un surplus di ironia, e poi, non ci credi?, di eleganza, vera arte, "ma li hai visti i costumi che belli che sono?", e amiche si sforzeranno di farti capire che non siamo né dalle parti del calendarietto profumato da camionista e nemmeno del mercenario bunga bunga presidenziale. Altri citeranno, come l'oliva vivente nel calice di un immancabile Martini, l’ex girlfriend of Marilyn Manson, Dita Von Teese, who has also done a lot of money, with 'I'm burlesque. In fact, even now on the walls of advertising leaflets inviting bar burlesque courses, workshops and seminars as not even to the foundation Italianieuropei, yet the film and the reality-themed broadcast on Sky, "Lady Burlesque", where participants provide fortunate to even feathers and corsets, sailor or the cap from the dress of the great-grandmother died. And then you think the writer has reason Fulvio Abbate, when it led to a show that said that basically, the burlesque is nothing more than "social democracy exhibitionism," one of those activities which, in its require other forms of extreme well attended and a great love for risk, and that another lap dance, but who feel like it now.

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Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law

The basic structure of the universe, I believe, means that things never go perfectly in place, that nothing fits symmetrically in the assembly instructions of the Swedish furniture or surprises in the chocolate eggs, that objects are not able to systematically achieve a balance. Your toast the buttered side falls to the ground. The best school to take over fist in the face in life instead of becoming the country's leaders. Nobody gets what they want but those who do not want to have something a hundredweight. Those who have teeth have no bread, and vice versa, as the ancient proverb. Asymmetry reigns. And 'well established that Murphy was right, that dell'onomima law known throughout the world, one that deserves to win the Nobel Prize were it not that no one knows who he is, if you call it exactly like that or whether it ever really existed. After all, the "Murphy's Law" is not even a law, what encoding is simply a universal truth summed up in the principle: "If something can go wrong will go wrong." Nevertheless, the depressing truth of this principle applies to everyone, without any possible parliamentary immunity, legitimate grounds, safe-conducts economic, social status or personal o sessuali. Di seguito un piccolo campionario di possibili corollari alla formula di base. l volume del traffico stradale è sempre inversamente proporzionale al tempo a disposizione. Se non avete nessuna fretta, la strada è sgombra. Se siete in ritardo, la strada è paralizzata. In un palazzo di molti piani, quando chiamate l'ascensore dal piano terra, la cabina sarà ferma a un piano alto. Se la chiamate da un piano alto, la cabina sarà al piano terra. (Corollario: se avete tre valigione di ritorno da un viaggio, l'ascensore sarà guasto). Quando fate retromarcia da un parcheggio, ci sarà sempre qualcuno che passerà dietro la vostra auto. È assolutamente impossibile riuscire a far salire contemporaneamente in auto una famiglia whole. If you left the pot on the fire going on vacation or you have forgotten your passport, you will remember when you are at least an hour from home. The memory is again in direct proportion to the distance you are further away from the possibility to correct the oversight, better memory function. The other line always moves faster than the one where you are. The teeth will wait patiently for the weekend explosion of pain or, possibly, on the eve of August or Christmas. The same principle applies to a very high fever, with redness, Diarra violent to children. The holidays are a cause of serious diseases and afflictions. The cut of your choice will always be empty, because it seems that this year all the lead. But a few years earlier, was always smaller than your size or larger, abundant today, to be exhausted. The big unexpected expense comes when you have less money. If you go to take a person at the airport and six in advance, the plane will be a significant delay. If you arrive late, the aircraft will already come with strong advance. When the bank's computer, or the gas company, water, electricity, the Inland Revenue make a simple error in calculation, the error will always be against you, never in your favor. Your PC will wait patiently for a few minutes are missing from the final delivery of a thesis, a report of an article to nail. The quality of a photocopy will be worse than what is most important and hard to find the original document. Will be the most valuable ones that will suffer the most harm or will be lost. Nothing is foolproof because fools are incredibly talented. Even those who believe they are able to plan and predict everything will sooner or later, victims of the Law of Muprhy, because another article notes: "Every solution to a problem, it automatically creates new problems."

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Placebo or not

Placebo or not

This year I decided to try homeopathy, that you never know. They told me that homeopathy is useless, like water cool. Others have vowed to have derived enormous benefit from homeopathic treatment, and in any case - they told me - with me and my spring allergies would be a last resort. Some say that there is no scientific evidence on the effectiveness of homeopathy. It is not entirely true, however there are flowers of scientific evidence of the harmfulness of many allopathic medicines, so if we take the tests. Now I am naturally skeptical, but I can take for this kind of irrational things that I have the same perspective on the existence of God or the certification of miracles: we do not know if homeopathy works, but when the situation is desperate and has tried everything else, why not? Then when an afternoon of winter sono andato nello studio di questo omeopata, uno molto caro e molto rinomato, ho pensato che forse l'omeopatia sarà davvero inutile, ma almeno di solito l'omeopata è una persona gentile, che ti sta a sentire, ti chiede cosa e come ti senti, prende un sacco di appunti, ed è insomma piuttosto diverso da certi mediconi che ti trattano come un oggetto ti riempiono di farmaci ed esami e quasi quasi quando ti vedono ti sputano in faccia (tipo il dottor House, ma nei telefilm siamo sempre disposti a tutto). Poi lui mi ha dato un po' di granuli da sciogliere in bocca due volte al dì e mi ha congedato. Dentro quei granuli zuccherati ci sarà un'infinitesimale quantità del princio attivo che causa il mio stesso malessere facendomelo passare, or suggestion and will be in a couple of months as before and more than before and I sneeze Gratteri. Maybe it will be a placebo effect, but sometimes that helps as well.

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Chao Alberto

Chao Alberto, non sono arrivato in tempo per accompagnarti nel tuoultimo viaggio e non trovo le parole per descrivere il mio dolore.... Ti ricordo con questa tua ultima, e come al solito bellissima, intervista:
http://www.facebook.com/home.php?ref=home#!/album.php?aid=280116&id=82409693514

Un abbraccio a Delia ed a tutta la famiglia.

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Carnival Masks

Carnival

Me neither I was realizing that it was Carnival. They told me that this year there are so many men dressed as women, you are discovering their true nature, or is the fault of the coincidence in time of Mardi Gras by March 8. In truth I feel discomfort for the joy of some compulsory festivals like the carnival, or for those going to huddle under the wagons around Viareggio masks fixed in Venice and sad, almost as much for certain groups of province of women with heavy makeup and mimosas arm the same day of the year fill the tables of restaurants waiting for the arrival of a stripper. Then invite me to a party and instead I like to think about how to introduce myself. I know I'll find a lot of people, who will be dressed as a musketeer, who to my lady of Venice, who teddy bear, who gives Spider-Man, who by zorro, who as a nurse slut, who gives a cavalry officer, who by the Beatles, who by Trotskyite pastry chef, who by the color blue fairy, who by michael jackson but looking like a Moammar Gadhafi. And I would do as a kid twenty years ago, when the ugly, not having anything to put on to dress decently and exit way to participate in fights between gangs of urchins made of oranges and shaving cream, you could make up a rock-bottom jeans and an old shirt, drawing with pencil marks on his cheeks and forearms, around and tell us that it was masked by punk.

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Masks

In a puppetry bickering masks of Harlequin, Pinocchio, Pulcinella. The first and last children of the commedia dell'arte, the fictional creature in half. Harlequin with his clothes of many colors, which are just as many patches and patches. Pinocchio with all its defects discovered and naively so visible, including a nose lengthens the umpteenth lie. Pulcinella B & W, which gives the deck and take a thrashing, and all survived because he's a hero of endurance. Arlecchino makes a pirouette, he pretends allegiance to face the eternal master but then laughs, as they are menial servant does all the oppressed of history, including those of history are totally unaware. Jiminy Cricket Pinocchio escapes with finger pointing and you do fool the Cat and the Fox with the usual promises, all they perceive when he tells a lie, everyone will take advantage of his recklessness, but basically does nothing but follow his wishes and when at one point crushes Jiminy Cricket and puts to rest forever we find there to breathe a sigh of relief. Pulcinella writhed, speak a dialect del sud che sembra a tratti la lingua di un santo e a tratti quella di un diavolo, è perseguitato dalla fame, gioca la sua parte come fosse Maradona in calcio d'angolo, e quando gli capita afferra con le mani gli spaghetti e s'ingozza, lo sa che occasioni così non gli capitano mica spesso e allora tocca approfittarne. Uno s'apparecchia la tavola con pezzi di carta, un'altro si gioca tutto nel paese dei balocchi, un'altro urla a squarciagola che a lui non lo fotte nessuno. Nella penombra di un sipario di pupi restano maschere vuoti, burattini flosci, non sono tutto quello che dicono e tutto quello che fanno, recitano se stessi, fanno gli italiani come se la Patria con la corona d'allora e lo scettro si presentasse davanti a loro e gli dicesse vabbuò, we joked.

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Future decrepit

Future decrepit

Humor winter since Saturday, not surprised to be at work. Phone to friends about to leave the city. I read the newspaper, including news of foreign countries and held hostage, the industry dedicated to the future of Disney went into crisis. While Sleeping Beauty's castle and the village of the Old West did not lose their enamel for all ages, the country's future, made up of ships, inventions, and dreams, has closed its doors for business: it is studying how to "modernize" . Its latest version seemed a bit 'decrepit, they say, recalling a past future. On the Internet, except as a favorite the photo of Ruby Heartbreaker in the middle of Gei Ar Dallas billionaire and a former Austrian unscrewed with the cowboy hat. It looks like a historical document, the confirmation of the Apocalypse imminent or certification of a conquered fortress without scruopoli. I find this quotation from Mark Makkox Dambrosio: "Today is the tomorrow that we were promised yesterday", he found it as background in a story of Shaun Tan. No one knows who he is, maybe a quote or a voice that goes from street to street, but does something. Belen Rodriguez said on television that will make the part of Anita Garibaldi's TV show in the near of State for the sesquicentennial of national unity, and you want to feel more patriotic. Read sms from my friend who claims che andare a due party sia molto più divertente che andare a uno soltanto.

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Workplaces

Luoghi di lavoro

Dal blog di Sir Squonk , qualche giorno fa. "I lavori non sono mai nuovi per le cose che devi fare, ma per le persone. Le facce, i nomi, le abitudini e tutto il non detto che devi scoprire anche se non ti interessa, perché con quella gente – e alcuni in particolare – passerai gran parte della tua vita da sveglio, e incidenti e squadre del cuore e figli e separazioni e amicizie e gusti musicali e preferenze politiche e luoghi di nascita sono qualcosa più di un semplice curriculum vitae, sono le cose che fanno le persone, sono le persone. Per un po’ stai ai bordi, dei colleghi e di ciò che sono, parli poco, ti guardi attorno, ascolti, ché il tuo mondo è – in fondo – ancora un altro. Un giorno offri il caffè, un giorno te lo fai offrire, un giorno dici che per pranzo hai da fare, un giorno prendi il fiato e dici sì vengo anch’io, un giorno ti fermi a guardare un libro su una scrivania – l’ho letto anch’io, davvero, sì, a me piace un sacco, anche a me è piaciuto molto se vuoi ti porto il seguito quando l’hai finito, ma senti ma tu quanti anni hai, un po’ più di te mi sa, sì ma quanti, questi, dai mi stai prendendo in giro, no purtroppo, non l’avrei mai detto, ci vediamo domani, see you tomorrow - one day you're there on the balcony to make the break if you do not smoke cigarettes, and little by little his world and leave your world, like plants that put his head in these early days of sunshine and light and warmth, friends, travel, family, loved ones, the funeral from which you have just come back, that life does not have to be replaced, may be added, and when you return to your desk you feel that your world is no longer yet another but is also another, and this is also, you have not thrown anything away, with a little 'luck you won something and someone else without losing, you sit down, please send an email, make a phone call, shoot ".

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mistress

Signora maestra

L'altro giorno mi è capitato di incontrare la mia vecchia maestra delle elementari. Mi capita poche volte, però mi è venuto da pensare che sarebbe meglio incontrarla molto più di frequente. Ora io non ho avuto sempre la stessa maestra. Il primo anno stavo dalle suore, le quali pero già non erano d'accordo che scrivessi con la mano sinistra, e siccome a nessuna delle due parti pareva il caso di cambiare idea, me ne andai alla scuola pubblica. Poco dopo arrivò la famosa legge delle tre maestre, e a un certo punto una stette poco bene e venne addirittura un maestro a fare il supplente per un po', tuttavia alla fine se una maestro ho avuto è stata una sola, lei stava per andarsene retired, and he clearly felt that a whole world with her was about to be retired, and in fact he was right, but we went with the same until the fifth grade exams. In fact, she has remained, for me, "the teacher". In the same way as the master of sarcasm and left in the second and eighth grade made me understand many things, without even need to explain, you remain forever in my eyes, "the professor." It happens. Some parents of my classmates complained that the teacher was too strict, but not that give us the wand, just seemed rather nice, a senior Democrat that spoke well of the partisans in our country even if we do not have ever had. Maybe he was a recent trend to blame the teacher who said "your son does not study" rather than blame the child as she had always done, even with the use of slap. We short people always told us, before explaining the story, we all have a story. However, I met my teacher in elementary, and I said, my teacher, who occasionally still remembers with pleasure the themes that I wrote, and smiled as he said. But also that they had not remembered with pleasure, and perhaps rather with disgust and horror, I had a certain effect to meet a person who, after twenty years or so still remembered everything he writes and how he wrote. Continuous still write them on the internet those issues, I wanted to say, and today I am very intelligent but I do not feel ashamed or I apply a bit '.

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Incredulonità

Incredulonità


seems to me that go around the sharp division between what we think, what they say, and how things actually are. The simplifications always win and then the complexity is difficult to accept. I share reflections sofriane that the "real country" is us, and all those, many similar and different, they're in the middle of the caricatures of political commentators and sociologists improvised grandifratelli vs. cashmere, tissue vs. Kant, perhaps "persons the first page of the newspaper or the Republic does not see them for months, and are called 'political' only by their consumption of the same subject. "I read this last sentence, in a newspaper, Nicola Chiaromonte," In the time of the bad faith utility replaces the truth lies useless. "I read a note Paul Guarino on Facebook, shows a better phrase Greimas's semiotic," Society of unbelief is left crushed by waves of credulity. "" But I think - he adds - that we arrived on the contrary, the company now credulity, we will remark sudden flashes of disbelief, those who make the mighty fall.

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A good presenter's speech

A good presenter

I lead my life like a show from the lineup perfectly oiled and run tested. Get along like any good host that respects. And here. Ladies and gentlemen good evening. Dear friends near and far. I am happy to call between us. What about the House? Enjoy the rest of the evening. It does not end here. Whatever happens, the good host puts us face. A mediator between those who offer and those subjected to the spectacle. Channel and flow into a life that, as the TV, such as Orson Welles said, "is turned on like light in the bathroom, it flows like water in the kitchen." A tonic, half of satisfaction, seeking a variety of old poetry festival and fallen, with the horrors of pleasing and therefore dangerous. The ancient and modern Pippibaudi Bonolis, pensions and screaming Carrà Ventura, Carlucci the first to last, the do-gooders to Fazio and captive to Chiambretti, the dead and Mike Corrado, Tortora and Wolf. The naturalente Frizzi and the endless jokes. Measured in all registers, from performing the readings, the commitment by the joke, from dance steps to politics, from dressing up at the piano, sometimes mixing the heavy aftertaste of jokes or a dirty word, between a shoulder and a master of comic 'orchestra. Moreover, the run television can not be improvised. You must have memory, mixed emotions, smell the desires of the public, celebrate the liturgy without offending and without boring, especially to be able to handle the unexpected, the beauty of direct as he called that other good presenter. I'm afraid, like any improviser in soft these days, to find myself lost in scute with a hunchback electronic eyes desperately empty.

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Oscar

Oscar speech

One can also win an Oscar, but the difficult then must be to make a decent acceptance speech. Remember amid the applause and fanfare to thank everyone, friends, relatives, yoga teachers, makeup artists, animals, directors get away with a nice joke, never make the shape of pedants, to avoid the wrenching phrases, to find the bad package hidden in a pocket of smoking, throw a kiss to the partner sitting in the front rows, and above all do not stay within their time, that the directors of the television on Oscar night are relentless, forty-five seconds and do the background music from that little by little salt and leave everything in a hazy blur mixture of cheers and ad breaks, of course only for actresses of a certain charm that is the rule and not the music that crushes and soothes party late.

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150. The Gianicolo, between heroes and statues designed

150. Al Gianicolo, including statues and heroes

Garibaldi in Rome, very tall, motionless, as if floating in the sunset. From the top of the Gianicolo hill, he looks a horse on the night that is not worthy of a look at the Vatican. Rome glitters Capital view from up there, and insecure as a tenant under eviction. The Dome of the pope's nest supreme king, the Quirinal with the flag on the flagpole taller, besieged by a thousand terraces with verandas semi-abusive anodized aluminum, just beyond his classroom with the Deputies' dull and gray, never became Westminster Foundation a nation. Come, come, you want to go away from Rome. Provincial city distressed by old imperial ruins. Garibaldi wanted the capital, but even then there were those who feared the trappolone. Massimo D'Azeglio wrote: "The environment surrounding the impregnated miasma of 2500 years of violence materials and moral pressures exerted by its successive governments on the world, does not seem the most suitable to infuse health and life in the government of an Italy young, new, based on common law. "Today, Rome is the heart of a country that fails to become an adult, and fully secular Europe. Walk to the Gianicolo and only here, I try to forget the miseries of a neglect ugly city, a nation that forgets how did and does the accounts to an accountant on public holidays. In floating yellow light histories and monuments. I scan the poor Garibaldi, put there by Mussolini, then become effigy rallies the left after the war, pulled his poncho by all parties. Crossing the bronze of his wife Anita who just gallops away with a baby and a gun in hand. Galoppa even if the horse (the sesquicentennial hooray!) stands only as a scaffold lopsided. But she also cares about the world of weeds, the cones of pizza, chewing gum. It 's the cure for the Italian hero, do the monument, plaque, street, building, desk, conference, stamp. Embalmed so if you can safely forget. And then, there may be some hero in a country like my cynical? In the midst of this army of statues falling brancaleone salt anger me, it is true that we are a country servant, a "factory of obedience," and I look at the first page of a newspaper thrown on the floor and I think that was right Monicelli, this otherwise you go out only with a revolution, it might be the only way to really make a party of Italy, a new Renaissance. But it felt as if a thousand voices telling his father that old saying, "do not be partisan", that is, for inviting me to reason, calm, composure, not to take things to impetuosity, breast, not to vote on them failure. From here, look over Rome, its busy streets that look like a crazy ant, flags and crosses on the tops of buildings as an archipelago of sand. If it were seen from Italy would be "a country too long," Ruffolo definition of "woman of the provinces" or "brothel", as already attested to the great poets on school books, Dante and Petrarch and Boccaccio, or only "a geographical expression" as Metternich said, or as many think Foreigners still a physical place full of beautiful sites and monuments worthy of interest in spite of its inhabitants. But we who live inside us that we live, we who are forced to scrub the hills populated with monuments, we are forced to a different perspective. While accepting and nurturing the idea of \u200b\u200bthe beautiful country, we have to deal with what is wrong. And a force to reckon, we usually think Italy as a place of rhetoric, a vessel that has everything a useful metaphor to talk about other things. When the appointment is always necessary to specify which Italy: that Italy as a state, if Italy as malpractice, as if Italy national football team, and so on. Understood and pleonastic But one point remains: Italy is not us. We admire the saints and sailors, sorry for the brain drain, those who seek their destiny elsewhere. Seen from above, Italy looks like the island of Lost, and us to his survivors. A place alien to its inhabitants, elusive and ambiguous, even when it seems to do us good, a place to scramble to find a way to escape. One thing to turn in the third person. The island is this, the island does that. Italy is so, Italy is there. In the stillness of the sunset, from the Roman hill, I see the statues of the heroes of the Risorgimento, Mazzini and Pisacane and Mameli, Saffi, and Armellini, quell'effimera to the fallen Roman Republic of 1849 whose Constitution had a terrific opening words he said "Sovereignty is for the eternal right people," the stern faces of kids who look like men, now all covered by cellophane wrapping of an imminent restoration, without them even in a forest of solitude.

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Truth

Truth drawn

observe these cartoons Makkox on Post. More than editorial cartoons are. And they say the truth, although atypical angles, and make me rifettere sometimes hurt. That the day before yesterday , for example, on the scandals of the government and the desire to strike us well by an asteroid about to break. That, in the end, the number of identity of a generation, my generation, Berlusconi is. Not the opposition to Berlusconi himself, its very existence, his break into our lives, our search for blame, merit, heroism, identity, and our hope that, as an evil not care, go away on its own. Makkox calls upon us - and also puts him in the crowd - "cowardly suicide bombers," willing to "die", but not to fight. "Fighting tired. To die is but a moment, it's convenient, yes! Rather die and take with them the enemy, but even this choice is passive, no active part in the rite. Think about the fate, bad luck, Ruby, Montenegro. ... I've fought in the soul. " And he is right, unfortunately. People who rely on the sole factor in renewing for this country, chance, or death, to limit the ill-concealed illusion that someone comes from outside, perhaps from another side of the Mediterranean, to break the mirror. That other sticker today instead. On a Libyan boy really angry, and rightly so, the other night on TV, for the ferocity of the Gaddafi regime before the revolution, the sloth of the Italian government in recent years. "Virgognati Billusconi!" yelled the boy. Makkox however, thinks that after his enormous ego, Silvio, her feel so full of himself and not institutional, almost saves us, gives us an excuse not to be listed as co-responsible, despite having endured so much and maybe even voted. "It is not in Italy put his face, but him who is mistaken opposition says Silvio disgraced the country in the eyes of the world. Indeed, almost the rest of us goes to Porelli. "I thought that here was right to sell, it takes off from the bottom well, except maybe where we were bad with the colonies, not us know if anything we are the rest of us.

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Where are we going to fight

Where let's fight

Certainly the language of politics has changed over the years, the Baroque time have given way to today's rawness, and we must take into account that hold the bar in a nation that was the hinge in a global balance of Mediterranean blocs as was the Cold War was to be an undertaking that needed a robust and flexible minds. And he also understands that in the unfortunate event that relegation from the comfort of the province of the empire should go to actors in a tangled world stage will touch back to school, not things that are improvised. However, does suffer from a certain impression about some survivors of the First Republic and warn maybe in a few sentences of commentary on current density of concepts and theoretical lines by spinning the head, shouting slogans and trite in comparison to their colleagues talk show today . I was thinking just now feeling a Gianni De Michelis on TV, one of the SCAC socialists of the eighties, a foreign minister who was passing by in the news as the author di una guida alle discoteche intitolata "Dove andiamo a ballare stasera?", e perfino lui, De Michelis, messo accanto a un suo successore come Franco Frattini ci faceva quasi la figura di un Metternich.

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Mainstream

Mainstream

Filmoni hollywoodiani che scalzano i vecchi registri di matrice europea. Musical indiani di Bollywood che conquistano il mercato africano. Batman e Lady Gaga in una baraccopoli d'oriente. Valori difesi dalla propaganda cinese e dai media musulmani che ricordano da vicino quelli del buon vecchio Walt Disney. Fanatici di manga giapponesi in un bar italiano. Al Jazeera vista negli uffici del Pentagono e i social network nati in California che fanno fare la rivoluzioni ai ragazzi nordafricani. Sarà true as it says the French journalist Frédéric Martel, in his big book written turning to one thousand two hundred thirty countries and interviewing people, which began the new world war for control of the content. And at the heart of this new conflict lies the mainstream culture, the culture that appeals to everyone around the world. Mass culture is not necessarily "bad" - says Martel - and diversity, in particular the contribution immigrants can make movies, books and works of art more universal. He says that Americans are winning the challenge, Eastern and South American regioanali other powers are needed, the old Europeans are at stake. But then the costumes in the globalized world, consumption, the cultural systems mingle and merge. At the end you see that apart from some shepherd on the high seas, some Afghan jihad into hiding in caves, some nomadic Arctic, more or less all want the same things. The immigrants landed just can not wait to buy a house in Milan, and vote for the League Two. Korean films in the residential districts are more like the suburbs, our petty bourgeoisie. Iranian girls would love to participate in film and in a bikini beauty contest. And when our television actresses are heavy makeup to go on the air, are perfect for an audition in Bollywood. All in the same boat.

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The fall of the tyrants

The fall of the tyrants

Tyrants before their fall are all alike. I'm too old, too powerful, too slaves of power to see that everything is crumbling. Appear, raving, promise, threaten and are afraid of reforms that were never dreamed of doing, banging their fists on the table. Announce sometimes will resist to the death, but will possibly that of others, and their own people. They do not understand why they can not understand, altimenti would not be what they are. Luxurious and holed up in a building or a bunker hijacked, kissed by Judas to betray them soon or are forced to endure the terror of being brought to trial. Where are you now? Where were you before? - Ask the crowds that once filled for their squares and now with the same speed have turned their backs, and as they rose to the altar now with the same enthusiasm they are ready to turn them into dust. And we ask with the same leaders who were friends yesterday the hypocrisy in the name of their business and become today's enemies in the name of the freedom. Where are you, ask, and ask the question that resonates especially for the people themselves, because they're crazy - and madness is the nakedness of kings when their power slipping away - and so convinced that there is always a top joint, a final fort willing to defend them, to a mistaken idea of \u200b\u200bbetrayal and honor of our country.

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Rais

Rais

The world is changing and we do not realize it. Do not they remember even the pundits of international geopolitics. Those who had predicted that three or four authoritarian regimes in the Arab world would crumble under the pressure of ideological revolutions, driven from below, in particular, a new generation of networked globally interconnected social network and angry in the streets, considered " impolitic "until recently, was considered simply crazy. The riots if no one ever expected. There is the Mediterranean on fire now, and 40 sea miles from us that something is happening here would not dream either. It turns out that in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and who knows where people still want the same things most of the people of the West: a better life, greater social equality, jobs, freedom of opinion. No one knows how this story will end, and it may be that the bad governments of the past will be replaced with bad governments, and just wait a few landing on Lampedusa, some increase in gasoline or failure of Unicredit to scrub the thirst for freedom of others, but now look at the pictures of the protesters, the crowds of young people, their coming together, and for a moment recognize those faces, those expressions, elementary particles that are detached from the crowds suddenly convulsed and enter our eyes.

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The politics

The politics

There was a documentary , years ago, "The politics" was called, made by a French director in a small town in Tuscany. This director for over twenty years, since the Eighties onwards, was to resume and interview four militants of the Communist Party, telling what happened in their lives and in their political commitment year after year, while the times changed, changed their party skin and their own accumulated experiences, disappointments and gray hair. For them, the "politics" was something noble and strong, organize the conflict and living together, being part of a community history and culture. Year after year, their paths away, you Seper. Some say that it is easier to continue to stop but two of them leave, a changed party and then leaves. And the impression remains that the viewer is that what remains in the end, to make its small and distinguished career in the party that has since changed names and flags, is perhaps the least brilliant of the group, what might not have been able to do more to life. More and more people actually feel alienated from the idea of \u200b\u200bpolitics, even when people who founded and organizes movements hastened to say that charity "are not a political thing," perhaps confeondendo politics with the quarrels of parties, or those with idiotic electoral programs of the stands. For example I've always resisted the temptation to take qualche tessera di partito. Talvolta ci ho anche pensato, e pensato parecchio. Poi, alla fine, ho pensato che, come ho letto da qualche parte "alla fine è questione di cercare di essere veri con se stessi, prima che con tutto il resto". E per stare in un partito bisogna avere tempo e voglia di fare riunioni, discutere, andare al mercato a distribuire volantini, fermarsi dal barbiere a parlare, provare a convincere qualcun altro, e io non so se la crisi dei partiti sia colpa di chi li governa o della scarsa attitudine di molti di noi a fare tutte queste cose. Certo, oggi si diffida di chi prende la politica come un impegno totalizzante, e forse a ragione: la politica registra con molti ritardi e difficoltà quello che nella società accade e si muove, too busy to organize his masquerade as abusive. It 'difficult today "doing politics." And I thought about it while some friends were celebrating this evening with "Factory Nichi" Roman is one year of life, and myself that hangs out there in a long time and I've found girls and boys extraordinary and unexpected, with very few preconceptions and anthropological Otter sound like a heavier political commitment to a click on the Internet, but lighter than the old ones any party replies to a question of meaning (or maybe just for company) too often unanswered. Like everyone else, are people who know (or guess) what was there before and do not want to repeat it, they do not know (yet guessed) that will after but do not know how to begin. They, too, in recent months have been faced with the difficulty and the trap of "playing politics", the risk of becoming yet another banner claiming space in the back of a procession, or yet another sign at the bottom of an appeal for peace in the world, or just another illusion for an aspiring leader, or just not adequate. What happens when you end up on hold forth, and then divides into currents and undercurrents, and not because of a sudden we become assholes but simply because it absorbs a way of doing, a way of life that goes on for inertia. Basically, in the end the other night have shown a great documentary on the history of this group, to use a language Vendola, non è "nè un movimento nè un partito, ma un luogo di riconnessione politico-sociale", più che una Fabbrica una Scuola, e c'ero pure io dentro, e c'era il mio amico Peppuccio, che in materia di linguaggi politici è assai sgamato per professione, ma alla fine se ne è uscito con una bella citazione, presa dal "Sentiero dei nidi di ragno" di Calvino, quando il giovane Kim dice: "Poi c'è qualche intellettuale o studente, ma pochi, qua e là con delle idee in testa, vaghe e spesso storte. Hanno una patria fatta di parola, o tutt'al più di qualche libro. Ma combattendo troveranno parole che non hanno più nessun significato, e scopriranno nuove cose nella lotta degli uomini e combatteranno così senza ask questions until they find themselves looking for new words and the old, but change, with unexpected meanings. "Then, who else?

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Sofas and Sanremo

Sofas and Sanremo

The festival of Sanremo is the thing for one week a year old women in their living rooms with telemorenti Ukrainian nanny in tow, notables furred with their wives in the audience of a theater in the province of Liguria, thirty and fortysomething and disenchantment grew up on bread and usually accustomed to refined American TV series, are found all together, as if they were all sitting together on one sofa, put up a riot of cloying songs, Talk About the event hosts, comment evening dresses and flowers on stage, guess the catchy, feel, ask guests if paid in dollars like Italy, at the end "equal to equal to their parents in 1973." An absurd pantomime, to comment to us that maybe we are a modern because of Facebook and Twitter, a little 'as the Berlusconi government. Then one wonders how would we do if we remove the Sanremo festival and even Berlusconi? Who could blame our national stupidity? Maybe "who is killing the thought," as Professor Flack sang the song more phones and mobiles.

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Indifferent

Indifferent

"I hate the cold. I think it means to be living partisans. Who really lives can not be a citizen and partisan. The indifference is apathy, is parasitism, it is cowardice, not life. So I hate the cold. Indifference is the dead weight of history. The indifference shown strength in history. Work passively, but it operates. It's inevitable, is that on which we can not count, is what upsets the programs, which brings down the best built planes, is the stuff that chokes brute intelligence. What happens, the evil that befalls everyone, is because the mass of men abdicating to his will, leaving only enact laws which will repeal the revolt, leaving the men who rise to power Only then can a mutiny to overthrow. Between absenteeism and indifference few hands, not supervised by any control, they weave the fabric of community life, and ignores the mass, why does not care, and then seems to be the fate to overwhelm everything and everyone, it seems that history is nothing but an enormous natural phenomenon, an eruption, an earthquake whose victims are all those who wanted and who did not want, those who knew and who knew, who had been active and who is indifferent. Some whine piteously, others swearing obscenely, but none or very few people wonder: If I had done my duty if I tried to assert my will, would have happened what happened? I hate even indifferent to this: Why bother me with their eternal whining innocent. I ask each of their account of how he played the role that life has placed and places every day of what he has done and especially what did not. And I feel I can be relentless, not having to waste my pity, not having to share them with my tears ". The words of Antonio Gramsci, the newspaper" The future city ", the year 1917. The two comedians Luke and Paul have read them the other night on stage at the festival of Sanremo, the impression that the "nazionalpopolare" have done all the rounds and has involtolato on itself, like a hand that finally takes you a shoulder and lifts you.

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Benignaccio

Benignaccio

A Roberto Benigni was conferred, for years, an office of honor, a license to recite and bouncing, a kind of autonomous province within the Sanremo festival and every other big show on Italian TV from old Fantastic pippobaudeschi Vieniviaconme until the last of Fazio and Saviano. A space that was once also Beppe Grillo, who was born scourge of costumes and television but then turned into apocalyptic prophet of squares and blogs. Benignaccio but has never ceased to find the poetry and irony in everything from patonza Carrà of the Nazi death camps, to be picked up at Berlinguer Baudo taken to the testicles (from cui la formidabile scoperta: "i capelli di sopra sono veri, e il resto di sotto che è finto!"), dall'inno del corpo sciolto fino all'esegesi dell'inno nazionale. Benigni ha sempre parlato chiaro, da trent'anni a questa parte, il suo essere immune alla censura è ormai insindacabile, ma proprio per questo gli è stato agevolmente costruito il recinto intorno, la forza satirica imprigionata dall'inchino semantico e dalla battuta momentanea. E' una strategia tipica del potere quella di accettare il dileggio selvaggio, purché in uno spazio ricorrente e a suo modo prevedibile, per fiaccare la protesta nell'abitudine. Ultimamente ha fatto film mediocri e mirabili letture dantesche nella piazze. Poi, ad ogni apparizione nel cuore della macchina del consenso, nel centro del terreno di elezione e selezione della clase dirigente italiana degli ultimi vent'anni, cioè in tv, si accendono i cori: da un lato il discredito lanciato dai servi del padrone, in caso di attacco aperto al signore, con polemiche di solito miserabili, dall'altro lato il moralismo dei duri e puri, in caso di mancato accenno alle vicende d'attualità. Alla fine della sua performance, arriva il senso di responsabilità delle istituzioni preposte, elogianti e acconsenzienti, plaudenti e pronte a sborsare il cachet. Noi spettatori coscienti ci concentriamo sulle battute, ci fomentiamo, perché la tv è fatta di tran tran quotidiano ma è negli eventi che si esalta. Anche ieri sera, mentre affabulava, dinoccolava, snorting lines, struggling limbs, I thought that Roberto Benigni's monologue was one of the most spectacular ever seen on TV. I thought, listening to him sing the anthem of Italy in a low voice and without music, it takes courage and passion to do so, and the certainty that those at home you will understand.

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Sexual Nature

Sexual Nature

I have always looked with some interest the immense multi-faceted classification of videos of sexual practices out on some porn sites. Thousands of voices, words coined for the most specific sexual activities embarrassing suffixes. Desires, fantasies, perversions, directorial style. I guess the osucuro and meticulous work of strangers compilers, with no way inferior to that of some naturalists of the eighteenth century on living organisms. We move from the classic and timeless Anal, Blow-job also known as fellatio, Masturbation, Mature, Amateur, those of geographic orignine, African, Arabian, Italian, Japan Schoolgirl, then those with the famous MILF stands for Mother I Like to Fuck also the various facets of objects, from Banana to baseball bats, bottles in Plants, shift levers, knobs of the beds, vacuum cleaners, garden gnomes, and so on and so forth where it happens, then changes to Depending on the size of the penis by up to less than 5 Inch Monster Cock, and the various attractions, from the nasophilia urophilia, plus a handful eccentricity, alien or bicycle, clown or ex-girlfriend ... Now all this is terribly unimaginative and innovative if confontato with the sexual habits of animals. Some of them really have a bizarre life, from that point of view. The Natural History Museum in London has just opened an exhibition , entitled "Sexual Nature", which recounts the sexual and reproductive behavior in the animal kingdom and plants. Some examples, from the exhibition catalog and an article by Nicholas Ammaniti read some time ago. The eterocefalo hairless or naked mole-rat measure twelve centimeters, and so much resembles a human penis with long teeth and walking the ground. These mammals live in tunnels in the community incestuose che sono organizzate come colonie di insetti. Ogni loro popolo è governato da una regina grassa e dispotica. Tra i ghepardi i fratelli controllano un territorio e quando una femmina entra nella loro zona essi non competono tra loro ma si accoppiano con lei uno dopo l'altro. La rana pescatrice è generalmente zitella e vive nella solitudine degli abissi marini, ma quando incontra un esemplare maschio della sua specie, fisicamente più piccolo di lei, allora questo si fonde assieme a lei, lentamente, fino ad unire anche la circolazione sanguigna e diventare una cosa sola. Nel momento del bisogno lui, unica cosa che può ancora fare, deposita lo sperma. I cirripedi, per esempio, hanno un pene che è lungo trenta volte la lunghezza del loro corpo. The male snake has a forked member, allowing him to offset the tail of the female and to penetrate in two directions. Porcupines fill the vagina of their partner with a larger quantity of the sperm had to avoid giving others to do the same partner. The testes of the blue wren weigh a quarter of the weight of his body. Among male rats is customary to fill the vagina of the female with a cap to have a total monopoly, but almost always the other claimants can take it off and eat it, and because of their high protein content of these rats, the vaginal plug is considered a true and its delicacy. The female rhino mate once in a while, especially after a certain age, but when they do the act lasted about two hours, and the penis remains in vagina all the time eiculando from time to time, leaving almost indifferent companion which continue to burn and watch the great African skies. Ferret during sex not only swell the testes but also the brain masses. Some insects muiono after performing their natural duty. Others change sex and do not talk about it anymore. Dogs go into heat and wake the whole neighborhood. The spiders, however, before you can get the coupling must be a little 'things, to be its own species, not to be a prey, and you choose the right time to mate, and if something goes wrong, the female eats the male. Darwin said it was the fault of natural selection. Thank goodness that at least bunga bunga invented here.

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Tricolore

Tricolore

It looks Sanremo. The singer old national glory, eternal boy, however old, and has moved its huge huge hands in the air, we must be united says, the pair of comedians and buxom pair of married, we're all one team, and puts his hands in his pockets. As usual they always good words Ennio Flaiano , decades old and as written yesterday: "I saw on television an evening of Sanremo. I was having dinner at a friend's house and I could not escape. These friends wanted to see the transmission purpose of studies, psychologists and being concerned in the phenomena of mass culture. Eventually I realized that they liked that stuff. I've never seen anything more ankylosed, patched, futile, vain, filthy and concerned. "Of course we never stopped, as all things to talk about evil and not be able to do without. At last I hit the song Tricarico, though he is out of tune, or make part of that tune, which is the same. He says it was a song for the Zecchino d'oro children, then they sent instead to the large Sanremo. The text is a simple crazy, tells the story of a father playing with son with wooden soldiers. He pulls out an old box, toy soldiers, guns, and there are four stations, the fog, the mountain, the border, and then that of the flag, in the mist there is a green flag on the mountain the white and the border is a red flag , ie, the mist comes the valley green flag, the white ones are on the mountain, and then closer to God, the Vatican, and the red is the left-wing intellectuals who stood at the border. But the father says at the end of the game: Remember that we have three colors. It 's a tale evanescent. There is also a phrase, "soldiers of the border, thousands of mothers waiting, try not to get shot," and perhaps this is the war being fought today. In the end it's all a festival, and perhaps is even the theory of Anchors Aweigh.

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Vasco No, I do not helmet

Vasco No, I do not helmet

We all remember something related to the entry of Vasco Rossi, without love or hate him especially. Reckless lives, stereotypes beef broke out of the province, older brothers that you rub your snacks or drugs, guilty of Alfredo, girls who dress a lazy, long evenings spent around the roads in the back seat of the car, concertone stadium, soundtracks for movies by marriage, a whiskey at the Roxy Bar, whining about the evil of living and the ability to live with their mistakes, and tomorrow is another day, but yesterday I did a lot of crap, but maybe the remake, but something will be served, and then try to stand out from the commonplace, perhaps with a new mobile phone advertising, or masturbating with your left hand and sending him into watching a VHS rewind, and feel inadequate in spite of everything, but look for a meaning to this life, but certainly a very common sense, a sense that there is not the haaaaaaaa. In short tank at the end has little to do with rock'n'roll, and much of the province, so watch his latest video , that wink and wriggle his target, saying "Yeah, Yeah", and that guy, the old Vasco, then you see him for what he is, walking down a umarell road, past an old man in a little 'unbalanced and now does not give up despite the passing of time the arteriosclerosis. one of those figures who meet in each bar provice, a bit 'lost and delirious, but in the midst of their ramblings still retain a trace of truth and poetry. We are all people of the province at the bottom, too young to die.

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Birthdays and Valentine

Birthdays and Valentine

Today is Valentine's Day, but it's also my birthday. They are twenty-eight, in this round. For me as a Zitello coincidence has its positive sides. Your birthday is so, one day as another special someone tries to make a special day that slips as any other. Waiting for a call that never comes, you get a couple of unexpected lines that seem the best gift. I make jokes about the coincidence of timing, this saint celebrated all over the world, but which has a face. Would you say the historian Eric Hobsbawm, a typical case of "invention of tradition". Consequence of marketing, which is the soul of trade, and poetry, is the marketing of the soul. As explained in an essay writer Francesco Pacific a few years ago, the early nineteenth century, there was a party almost forgotten English, it was tradition that estraesse by lot the name of a girl, they wrote a poem, it is signed "Your Valentine." It brings to mind the story of what he wanted married on Valentine's Day, held us crazy, it seemed a gesture so romantic and had done everything possible to succeed, only after that call, shares and everything, he realized that that day officially on the calendar of saints, there is more. After all, between SanValentino and birthdays, the assumption is the same: to discover that love, like life, is not eternal, you exorcise this sunset with parties and expensive gifts maybe, or with the obligatory diamond, we know, is "forever," as advertising. Of lovers, as the years go by, you realize suddenly, and usually when it is too late. In a book Johan Harstad, entitled "What happened to you, Buzz Aldrin?", The story of one who has chosen to live in the shadows, and that my friend Valentina mentioned very often, at one point the protagonist says: "The first What you think, when you meet someone new, is whether you fall in love with him. Or her. It is the same for everybody. " Pages later, with time spent, he thinks, "I wanted everything to be stagnated since the last time we had spoken, the dust last year on the window frames. But almost nothing stays still. Even the mountains move, the continental plates move every year, and old friends rust in the rain. "

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Poesia di Antonio Guerrero 12-02-2010

Con oggi termina la pubblicazione delle poesie scritte nel "buco" dove venne segregato Antonio Guerrero, uno dei 5 cubani incarcerati negli USA da 11 anni per aver cercato di scoprire gli organizzatori di attentati terroristici contro Cuba. Tra le vittime di questi attentati anche il giovane italiano Fabio Di Celmo. Our diplomacy if it looks good and ask for the extradition of the author confessed the crime, the terrorist Posada Carriles financed and protected by the United States, the country that even in our left continues to call "the greatest democracy in the world" .

While the Mediterranean is facing in our country continues to pretend nothing has happened and to paint the victims of imperialist aggression as criminal terrorists and terrorist country most of human history as the champion of freedom and human rights. Fortunately, around the world are increasing the rebellions against internal and external oppressors, not revolution, but we still need the rule of imperialism and mistress of the bourgeoisie is tottering as never before. It will not be easy road to freedom, but at least he started to follow it and maybe you begin to understand that utopia is not impossible but it is unrealized.

Viernes, 12 de febrero de 2010 Cruzando el corazón azul of insondable, confused de Rutas, mas acompañado de Esperanzas insignificant but true, look at the geography quiet immersed in a flash of snow, territory of the indefinite, illusions of freedom. are tired, but I do not give up. cuts, but did not bleed. Such fatigue, so much pain calm with the love of my dreams de hecho a matter Invencible reconocen que no los guardianes.

When crossing the heart of blue unfathomable, in a tangle of broken, but accompanied by hopes insignificant but certain, look at the geography silent submerged in a brightness of snow, the indefinite territory, mirage of freedom. Tired, I'm not giving up. injured, do not bleed. So much effort, so much pain: calm them with the love of my dreams, matter invincible that the guards do not recognize.

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Poesia di Antonio Guerrero 11-02-2010

Thursday, February 11, 2010 From my childhood home and school, in my youth place to place, all my life, and even in my dreams, you have lived in my heart. Island soles that all you offer palms and beaches, birds and fruits, aquel verano abrasador que amo, aquel árbol libre en la campiña, dispuesta a diario a cuidar la flor indispensable de la esperanza en mí tu alientas siempre la paz. Tu amor me impulsa, tu amor me colma de luz, ¡oh, patria!, vendrá el regreso y el beso tuyo que nos espera.

Since my childhood and from school, in my youth from place to place, all my life and even in dreams, you lived in my heart. Island sun offered to all palm trees and beaches, birds and fruits, hot that summer that I love, tree rustic and free prepared every day to take care of the flower indispensable hope my food is always a yearning for peace. spurs me Your love, your love fills me light, home!, Will return and your kiss that awaits us.

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Poesia di Antonio Guerrero 10-02-2010

Wednesday, February 10, 2010 Sure, in the midst of the storm, I imagine walking through the world as if they walked me shoulder to shoulder arms invincible. Pasaran with dark wings so many frigid nights unable to annihilate the aurora final day of injustice. Brothers and sisters of the struggle solidarity that multiplies which the leaves in the spring: You give us the victory, you will be with us in the great day of return!

Sure, in the storm, I imagine around the world as if they walked with me shoulder to shoulder arms invincible. pace with their dark wings many more cold nights unable to cancel the dawn last day of injustice. sisters and brothers of the struggle solidarity che si moltiplica come foglie in primavera: ci darete la vittoria, sarete con noi nella grandiosa giornata del ritorno!

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Poesia di Antonio Guerrero 09-02-2010

Martes, 9 de febrero de 2010 En mi soledad digo tu nombre y sus letras are a rising sun the clouds of dawn where with flowers opening fire. When I say walk in the corners forging and rolled thought and my soliloquy with your name no lights or shadows distinction. I say no one heard me a voice of deep emotion barely hier el aire y el silencio. A las Preguntas the firmament Respond east the view you Hasta la Eternidad de nombre.

In my solitude I say your name and his letters are a rising sun in the clouds dawn where flowers were opened to the light. tell When going into corners forge and discarded that thought and with your name in my soliloquy not distinguish light or shadows. The utter no one can hear in a voice deep with emotion hurtful as the air and the silence. questions from the firmament say, raising the sguardo all'eternità of tuo nome fine.

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Poesia di Antonio Guerrero 08-02-2010

Monday, February 8, 2010 last night , when a sullen silence the mantle of darkness covered me, and uncertainty de crudas nevascas me embriagaba, el amor provoco un ramalazo en las fibras de mi corazón, punzadas de perpetuas ausencias. Por un buen tiempo estuve despierto. Anoche, frente a la soledad resonante de ayeres me dije: Todos los desvelos de mi vida han desbrozado esta larga senda where the danger of death could not spoil the light.

Stanotte, when a gloomy silenzio come il mantle dell'oscurità my copriva, e l ' incertezza di crudi nevaschi my ubriacava, l'amore has provocato a strappo mio cuore nelle fiber, stapled perpetual absence. I was awake a long time '. tonight, facing the loneliness resonant of days gone by I thought: vigils of my life have pruned this long path where the risk of death could not destroy the light.