Sunday, August 29, 2010

Hair Scroo Instructions

If this is a man

Wednesday morning.
I was walking the streets of Ravenna bike to go to work, as always in a hurry, as usual in delayed trigger.
In via Mazzini I see this man sitting on a banquet, and he begs her to sign a piedi.
Non rappresenta di certo il classico cliché dell'accattone.
Passo avanti.
In fondo ce ne sono tanti in giro come lui.
Magari è anche un millantatore.
Poi però una forza sconosciuta mi blocca e dopo 10 metri torno indietro.
Ci mettiamo a parlare.
La sua è una storia quasi consueta nella sua aggiacciante attualità.



Da quel giorno non riesco a non pensare a lui.
Ho cercato di dare il massimo risalto alla sua storia e qualcosa sempra muoversi.
Lui è molto scettico: dice che ogni volta che la sua vita conquista la ribalda sui media sembra che tutti si mobilito, but in the end nobody really cares.
Exit the road, when you're finished so it is much harder than you think.
I maybe I flatter myself, but a little 'we hope that this world is not so shitty.


You who live safe In your warm houses,
you who are returning in the evening
hot food and friendly faces: Consider if this is
a man.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Jak Zbudowac Klatke Dla Wiewiurki

Hole Starting

Today I thought of the holes.

The hole in the pocket of my skirt that yesterday I dropped the keys and almost lost.
The holes in the streets of Ravenna, if you stick it in a bike at least you break a leg. The hole
agenda of appointments, that when has it for me, my beautician, who has an agenda more dense than that of Barack Obama, I'm happy.
The hole under the kitchen sink of mine, which has slipped Ljuba and I do not know how he did it because it is the fattest cat in the universe.
The ozone hole, which seemed a few years ago we all died and instead now be out of fashion and do not talk about it anymore.
holes that my grandmother says that if we all work properly then you're fine.
that hole that we all have inside, which looks more like a vacuum, and try and try to fill it, but he is always there to remind us of our miserable condition of being always looking for something more.
But perhaps never fill that void that is the best gift that nature has done so in the end is what drives us to improve, desires, dreams ...

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Commercial Lease Template



So.
(I had been taught in school that you never start a sentence with an adverb)
and even with a sentence in brackets ...
oh well ...

Today I decided to leave.
Yesterday I saw my friend Wilkie, the geek geek most of the earth, the man who has two phones and several computers, dedicated to his blog.
seems to have begun to do so Dovo have canceled your account from faccialibro. Facebook facocitarti
ends up, without noticing spend hours and hours to get the affairs of people who may not even greet you on the street (by the way, that bastard I just delete it from my friends).
not get me wrong though, I love facebook: I find it a wonderful means of diffusion of ideas and information and give the real possibility of lost data to re-establish relationships. More than once I have seen the signs, but est modus in rebus .

So now less social networking and more healthy introspection.
If I were born 100 years before I would be writing a diary with pen and ink, but I find myself in the XXI century to feed the net my thoughts.
My intention is to post at least 1 week. Or at least one post each
what time I can think of an intelligent thought. Stay tuned

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Daniella Alonso Smelly

Cartoline da Anfgou

Ad Anfgou, villaggio berbero incastonato nel cuore dell’Atlante, le giornate si ripetono una identica all’altra. Mentre un vento fresco spazza la strada polverosa che separa le case dal ruscello, i bambini aiutano le madri nelle faccende di casa. Provvedono al rifornimento dell’acqua potabile, lavano i panni sporchi vicino alla sorgente e si prendono cura dei lattanti.
Le donne avvolte in vestiti e foulard colorati, raccolgono legna da ardere nei dintorni del piccolo borgo. I geli dell’inverno, da these parts, do not discount anyone. In 2007 thirty-three people, almost all under ten years old, died from cold and hunger. The whole was touched by the tragedy and Morocco, for a few weeks, the tiny town lit up the media spotlight. Even the king went to the place, to inaugurate the construction of new infrastructure (road, electricity supply, a clinic and a mosque was never completed), ensuring its commitment to promote the development of the area. But, after the initial drama and emotion, so much as the public authorities have quickly turned the page. The village has fallen so in complete isolation and the residents have resumed the pace of the harsh daily life, without that nothing has really changed.






. .. between the land planted with barley on the bank of a river, a girl gather what remains of the harvest. It should have sixteen or seventeen, but he looks about thirty. Skeletal, his face already wrinkled, his eyes tired and dull, is followed by three kids. His children. He works from morning to evening and eats little. At the age of twenty, already has five or six children. For Anfgou no contraceptive strategies, as the State, which should promote them, is simply absent. And NGOs? The feminist associations? The real foundations, princely, and so on? No, Anfgou and villages is not a priority for these actors. Do not arouse interest. From here the girls are married early and often they do it with relatives. After the children now become mothers with several children. For Anfgou, in short, there is a teenager ... "Taken from
"Anfgou a year and a half after the visit of the King" , Brouksy Omar, Le Journal Hebdomadaire No 411, 3-9 October 2009.




Here is the translation of the report
THE STOLEN TREASURE ATLAS
published by Beatriz in Mesa Periodico de Catalunya July 6, 2010.

The people of Anfgou, Morocco, barely surviving the local mafia, while enjoying the benefits millionaires products from the largest cedar forests of the Mediterranean.

In a remote corner located in the middle of the Atlantic, it seems that nothing can disturb the tranquility of the mountain people who inhabit these hills for centuries. It seems one of those places where nothing can go out and instead of the ordinary here, almost three thousand meters high, anything goes. Anfgou to a thousand people trying to survive with few resources available, media a few goats and a small vegetable garden, not worrying too extreme poverty that surrounds them. In January 2008 the village was up on everyone's lips, in Morocco and abroad, the death of thirty-three children caused by cold and hunger in one of the harshest winters of that has been recorded here. For Anfgou, where not everyone has electricity and almost no one has running water at home, the Mafia continues to take advantage of the vulnerability of a population almost entirely illiterate. But the area is one of the wealthiest in the country. The forests of cedars that surround the village are the largest in the Mediterranean. They are the gold Moroccan Atlas.
Exploitation Cedar turnover of 10 million euro each year. According to the 1976 law, 80% of the proceeds should be reinvested in the development of the region, roads and schools to remove from dehumanizing poverty those people who work their forests without receiving anything in return. But here there is not even an ambulance, and infant mortality reached appalling levels. Nearly one in five children does not reach adulthood, often for the lack of assistance on site and the lack of transport to the hospital (the nearest is located in Errachidia, 180 km away). In many cases a simple injection would be enough to save his life.


Complaints silenced
around the forests of cedars has built a network of local corruption and injustice that no one is more capable to cope. Who has tried has been thrown in jail. Atau, a young forest expert, had decided to break the silence that conceals the falsification of documents to the illegal exploitation of the resource. He wanted to expose and denounce those responsible for irregularities. Accused of "undermining the values \u200b\u200bof the Kingdom", was sentenced to two years in prison.
His action, at least had the merit of revealing the gears of the tissue of the Mafia. The network is managed directly by the president of the council, including the complicity of friends and family shots bribes. The clan also exercised pressure and influence on the local population, for re-election of the head at the time of elections, distorted by blackmail and threats, to continue the speculation. All this while to Anfgou people do not have to wear that dress either.
Every day dozens of men in single file, date from the mountainside above the village. Penetrate deep in the forest to cut logs of precious cedar. "For every cubic meter of wood can be obtained up to 800 euro," says Asif, in his fifties, the most active opponents of the mafia networks that handle exploitation. "The smugglers carry out the night, not to attract attention. If the cut will continue with the wild rhythm achieved in recent years, the forests will disappear and we have no more wood not to build our homes, "she confides Asif worried. "I wanted to create a cooperative to take control of forests and its resources from the hands of these people. I filed the dossier to the Ministry for more than a year, but until now I did not get answers. " Asif makes us way into his home. The walls of the dimly lit living room are covered with lime, but sprouting from the ceiling of cedar beams supporting the roof. To expect in the middle of the table a hearty tajine still hot.
Anfgou just wants to live with dignity. But perhaps we should wait for a new tragedy for the villagers, in addition to the antenna for mobile phones, may have finalmente di un ambulatorio e delle medicine di base.