Leaking Fluid Before Period Normal

do Tampering with the words - Rebellion

After several months spent reading novels more or less well written and exciting, I find myself in his hands, on direct advice from above, Tampering with the words, Gianrico Carofiglio a sort of essay on the decline language of modern society that, in addition to waste day after day, the very essence of which is, does the same with the most exclusive and highest ever managed to produce the man's words.

After the adventures of falsifiers Parisian booksellers, Commissioners for a walk in the Ticino and children that are closed for days in the cellar of the house, I devour these pages that talk about us, me and, basically, whatever surrounds us. And 'this appeal of current that I could not resist.

protesters celebrate and shout slogans Following Their takeover of Benghazi. Even amid the euphoria, Rumors Abound That Moammar Khadafy will strike back, Either through massive aerial or naval bombardments or through a string of attacks from stealth His plainclothes agents. (Suhaib Salem / Reuters)

"Almost all the revolutions that have changed the physiognomy of the people were made to consecrate or to destroy the inequality. Discard the secondary causes that have produced great excitement, and almost always arrive at the inequality," wrote Alexis de Tocqueville.

The word evokes rebellion immediately, physical violence, the brutal reversal of the order of things. On the surface, it seems to return the opposite of the law, as suggested by the dictionaries. But, perhaps, in this case more than in the other it is useful to check what is its opposite. Its against, indeed, the most significant: repression, obedience, resignation. And I would add, tyranny.

claiming the right to conscientious objection Don Lorenzo Milani, wrote to the military chaplains Tuscan

"Tell us exactly what you have taught the soldiers? Obedience at all costs? And if the order was the bombing of civilians, retaliatory action on a helpless village, the summary execution of the partisans, the use of nuclear weapons, biological, chemical, torture, killing of hostages, the summary trials for mere suspicions, the decimation (choose at random some soldiers in the country and shoot him to strike terror in the other soldiers of the Fatherland), a war of aggression evident, the order of a rebel officer to the sovereign people, the repression of demonstrations popular? "

Our thoughts, of course, Libya, in this hour of theater that probably define something inhuman, is an understatement. genocides, our matte atom of evil, has seen several. Every time watching with detachment, so helpless. What makes us so shocking of these tragic events that are consuming the doors of the house?

1) First, as I just wrote, all happening at our doorstep, for use an expression dear to the usual, ill-concealed, xenophobic Northern League. That is the last resistance that, like it or not, is (was?) from the wall, bulwark, illegal immigration embarking among many refugees, political prisoners, poor people, even a professional criminals. In other words, given that, previously, had a form a little 'ethereal, distant, undefined, as well as everything that goes into our homes through radio and television, it ceases to be "living room chats" and you suddenly close present.

2) Let's talk of the league. The day before yesterday, that Daniel Stival, the regional minister of migration (you really pay for that?), Comes out with this sentence , about the possibility of countering Libyan immigration of refugees: "We can also Greece, Spain and Croatia, we should get ourselves using machine gun. "triumph of reaction, the top of the league a bit 'embarrassed and touched this nerve, which are quick to dissociate themselves from what escaped from Nazi with this cute green scarf, believed to improve things before you apologizes and says that after "an image that was used, referring to a phrase spoken by Borghezio, the need to be rigid." Almost like quote Aristotle. And if he was referring to known sexual prowess of the party's most embarrassing story ' Italy ("We've got it tough League), remains to be seen.

3) One thing, however, the green shirts are probably right: the need for Europe united, together, build a unified plan and reasonable in terms of immigration policy. This was confirmed a few nights ago in the living room Maroni Che tempo che fa. One can only agree, but as reasoned a couple of nights ago in front of a beer with a couple of friends, until we send into exile in Brussels, the aforementioned Borghezio (notorious for bringing pigs on the land of a mosque under construction and had "sanitized" train seats where they sat immigrants), Mortal Coil, and whoever has had oral sex with the top of the PDL, well, in this case, probably, there is little to complain or demand.

4) Can you imagine what must be for a people, see what is basically his boss, President, prophet, dictator, tyrant, if you will, that sort of a mercenary hired to fly ah hoc on cities of his country and shoot, shoot, shoot when they see a group of people walking to the road? Days ago there was talk of 10,000 dead, then the estimates are a bit 'disappeared from the headlines. When will it end?

5) The main concerns are the reactions from across the pond. The Mercegaglia, the day of the massacre, think of the billions invested in Tripoli Italian polluters and many Italians seem more worried by rising gasoline prices. Berlusconi first does not want to disturb the Libyan dictator who, Judging by some photos dating back only a few months ago, has been shown to have a certain kind of feeling then, because the relevance of the question the media, and portrayed him as "crazy", saying that might be able to launch from one moment to 'Another of the rockets on Italy. Not have given a big enough tent on the occasion of his visit in Rome?

6) Finally, I invite you to reread the interview dusted by the carrier in these days of Oriana Fallaci to Gaddafi, dated 1979. On the one hand the madness of a dictator, that ego a bit suffocating 'everything (even himself), the other a true journalist, can lead to uncomfortable questions and the powerful. Can you imagine Fazio national in its place? She would come out with the classic "I'm really happy to present this Green Paper of Colonel Gaddafi."

Baxi Boilers Faults Flame On Off

page of a book / 5 - You and I

The door is wide open on a large rectangular room. the top two windows veiled with dust filter through a puff of light falling on furniture covered with sheets, on boxes of books, pots and clothes, worm-eaten on windows, doors and on tablets of wood, sinks and calcified piles of straw-bottomed chairs. Wherever there was stuff piled up threw the eye. A pile of mattresses of wool covered with mold. Select a collection of moth-eaten. Old records. Lamps with lampshades crooked. A wrought-iron headboard. Carpets rolled up in newspapers. A large ceramic bulldog with a broken leg.

A house of the fifties piled up in a cellar.

But first there was a mattress with blankets and a pillow. On a low table arranged in order ten boxes of Simmenthal winds of tuna, three packs of bread, six cans of oil, twelve bottles of Ferrarelle, fruit juices and Coca-Cola, a jar of Nutella, two tubes mayonnaise, biscuits, snacks and two bars of chocolate milk. Resting on a box a small television, game console, three novels by Stephen King and a few 'of Marvel Comics.

I closed the door. That

it was my holiday week.

Niccolo Ammaniti

you and I

Page 23

Red Wings Billiards Felt

Meet Cimbergo

The Walkie Talkie Watches From Scrubs

page of a book / 4 - Strangers on the fourth floor

Gianpaolo Rossetti - I read the back cover - was born and lives in Milan. He has collaborated with several magazines, lectures on local history and works for a local newspaper with a heading: the Milan unknown.

few weeks ago, when the grip of cold pressed close Corso San Gottardo, I was, as usual, waiting for the 3, incoming calls, wanting to listen to questionable information flowing in red lettering on the platform, from there in 9 minutes. An endless amount of time to pass on his feet, chattering teeth, so to be considered nothing short of inviting the opportunity to move beyond the glass door of the historic Library of the course, at 11 am across the street, coming home from my door. And then I sling, without thinking twice, the shelves filled with books of paper that this store yet, despite the best sellers stacked at the entrance, trying to carve out a semblance of originality.

The minute rush, while I lose myself between the mysterious cover of the new novel by Piperno and go around a mountain of "cooked and eaten." I make one false move and I'm bump against the belly, no doubt well-stocked, a gentleman in their sixties, surrounded by a small crowd of people.

"Excuse me, I start to hum. He reciprocates, kind, with the same word.

It 's almost time: I am going to gain the release and in the distance begin to feel the clatter of the tram. In a hurry, but not enough to not realize that, that face the high forehead framed by a small crown of graying hair, is printed on a billboard at the entrance.

" Gianpaolo Rossetti" presents his new book, Murder at the fair of Porta Genova.

Behold, I have bought than before.

"He made the journey on foot. Newsstands were displayed on the front pages of newspapers which report abnormal cold spell that was raging now, a few days and that the weather gave up, and shuddered Commissioner pressed in the coat moves faster.

Corso San Gottardo 41, scale B. Two courtyards in a house ultrapopolare railing, about 120 families crammed side by side in a promiscuity that leads to shared facilities; swarms of kids chasing each other regardless of the cold shouting up and down the stairs from the steps consumed by the shuffling of innumerable people who have alternated in time, as the waves of a stormy sea. On

railings, well aligned, rows of potted plants with broad, fleshy leaves an ever-verse without flowers, plants numb from the cold, the people of railing called "Frasconi.

The court in Milan bristled, broad, with the drainage of rainwater in the center, old bikes rest against the peeling walls, a few hand-truck with the poles facing upwards and a continuous shouting similar to that of a beehive of women doing domestic work, some to sciorinare role that inevitably would have ice cream, who the cleaning of your home, because although we are ultra small houses, inhabited by simple workers, are required always with great dignity and cleanliness, as is the tradition of the people in Milan. On the ground floor shops and small workshops, which the Milanese dismissed as "Laureri" overlooked the large courtyard from which they emerged unceasingly trance sounds of small and muffled hammering, sometimes the voice of some workers mentioned that the chorus of popular songs.

This appeared to Chief Commissioner De Martino when he entered the wide doorway that leads from the street to the courtyard, but no more vision would see if he had entered another 1,000 yards in Milan in the cold dusk of December. "

Gianpaolo Rossi

Murder on the fourth floor

Page 8

How To Make Home Made Vegetarian Ramen

page of a book / 3 - Accabadora

Michela Murgia is that fat nag, on time, every episode of the barbarian invasions (the program Daria Bignardi La7), carves out a corner for 5 minutes to launch cutting-blank reviews on the host on duty, which usually floats on the chair nervously ill-concealed nervousness. He does it to provoke, adding a little more pepper in a program that has already chosen to use a stylistic a bit 'different from servility "faziano.

All this, of course, is possible without contradictory (Murgia national communication "to Bin Laden", with a record video projected in the studio, as she probably enjoys a pizza with friends). The style, sometimes a bit frustrated is that of 'nuisance. Yet, more often than not, he undeniably right.

Michela Murgia is certainly all that, but it is also a capable writer, dry style, sometimes harsh, but at the same time poetic. Effect is not above expressions as "crimes, like people, begin to exist if someone ...

Murgia : Oh no, wait a minute." Chubby "is fine, but" to exist ". What .. not!

I ...

Murgia : the "d". It should not be made if the word does not start after "to" I

: You mean ESIS

Murgia : what do you say, Castiglioni Mariotti?

I : Got it! I apologize, but I was writing a bit 'in a hurry, copying directly from the back cover. I am a bit 'tired and exhausted

Murgia : Ignoramus!

I : I've just said sorry! Does it seem like an exaggeration?

Murgia : You are an ignorant in the sense to ignore! And exhausted. " You think?

I Do not contradict! The writer is you and you just said that the "d" only when you put after the word begins with "a". Thus, for an eye, I'd say "used" not in the category.

Murgia : Making the know-all you are not at all well, but I appreciate the good will. The "d" is put after the "a" if the word following begins with the same voice. The same is done with an "e".

I : Now pull out a nice notebook with squares and began taking notes, school teacher from the red pen!

Murgia : If anything in rows, let the squares of the graphs for math teacher

I : Your book sucks!

Murgia : I see that we are full of arguments smart! And then I am sure that I do not.

I : You're right, not bad.

Murgia : It 's a poem longer than 160 pages. If you think that "not bad" makes the idea ...

I: Vain! Narcisa! Superb! Pompous!

Murgia : Spit dictionary of synonyms and antonyms. A few lines ago I was not fat, with an inferiority complex and fear of due process?

I : ...

Murgia : ...

I I go to bed, but first stuck here a page of your book.

Murgia : Ok. What?

I: It 's a book or a poc or Grounds for choosing a particular point. I fish almost at random!

"If he could die like that, dreams of drowning in the water, it would be better for everyone. Instead he opened his eyes suddenly, gasping maimed between the sheets. It took a moment to remember who and what was that emerge from oneself is much more difficult as it is deep. Only then felt the breath of the thin figure which violated the air in the room, tightly against the wall in front of his bed. A man of many words Nicola had never been but even in that moment's silence seems fair to say.

- You are coming ... - Pale and whispered hoarsely.

She approached the bed, replicating only when it was so close that Nicholas seemed to hear him the odor of bitter old men. When she spoke, he knew he was really awake.

- How come I can go. Say you've changed your mind and get out of here without turning round. I swear I'll talk about it ever again, as if it never happened.

Nicola replied too quickly, as did not want to give you the time to doubt.

- I have not changed my mind. I am already dead, and you know it.

She looked into his eyes, directing his head to prevent him from doing so. We saw what was not looking and whispered in a tired voice:

- Nicola No, I do not know. Only you can know. I came ready, but pray that the Lord let fall upon you what you ask me, that is not blessed, or even necessary ...

- For me it is necessary - Nicola said accepting the curse with a slight nod of the head.

meanwhile opened up the old shawl to reveal her hands clasped around a small earthenware container with a wide mouth. When accabadora lifted the lid of the container there was a wisp of smoke. Nicola Bastìu welcomed the acrid smell, did not expect different, and took a deep breath, mumbling meekly, that the old did not give sign of hearing. He held that toxic smoke into the lungs, closing his eyes stunned for the last time. Perhaps it was already asleep when he was pressed into the pillow face, why do not startled nor opposed. Or maybe it would not oppose, however, that it was not for him to die differently from the way he lived, without breath. "

Michela Murgia

Accabadora

Page 89

Graphics Card For Gigabyte S-series

page of a book / 2 - The cemetery of Prague

I finished now some days the new work of Umberto Eco. A brick, if you stop to his "three-dimensional," something more if you think the content and manner, of course, masterful, in which it is written. All in all, however, rejected. Eco writes, but the problem is that one knows. Row after row seems to be from time to time, but fell in the role of a Machiavellian character unsympathetic and as few (almost as much a present-day Northern League), a pedantic tone of a crescendo. The book stops suddenly, almost as if someone had played a tear the last few pages. Perhaps an editor a bit 'tired after more than 500 pages of anecdotes late nineteenth century?

not matter. The fact is that, from one line to another, taking care not to forget in vain, none of the countless characters in this historical novel, I noticed a page full of anything but a dispassionate concealed anti-Semitism. The report here, if only because it reminds me of a picture.

"Who is to forge documents should always read up, and that's why I attended the libraries. The libraries are charming: sometimes it seems to be on the platform of a railway station and to consult the books about exotic lands, the impression is to travel to distant shores. So I happened to find a book on some great recordings of the Jewish cemetery in Prague. now abandoned, there were nearly twelve thousand gravestones in a very narrow space, but burials were to be many more because, in the course of several centuries, many layers of earth were were superimposed. After the cemetery was abandoned someone had raised a number of tombs buried with their stones, so that was created as a mass of irregular stones mortuary tilted in all directions (or perhaps to impose the Jews were so regardless, foreign they were in every sense of beauty and order). That place is now abandoned

I agreed, for its incongruity: what cunning Jesuits had decided to meet in a place that was sacred to the Jews? And what control they had forgotten all about that place, and perhaps inaccessible? All unanswered questions, which would have given credibility to the story because we believe that White believed firmly believe that, when all the facts seem quite plausible and explicable, then the story is false.

As a good reader of Dumas, sorry I did not make that night, and that banquet, dark and frightening, with burial that field, just lit by a crescent moon intisichita, and the Jesuits in a semicircle so that, seen from above, because of their broad-brimmed hats from blacks, the ground seemed swarming with cockroaches. "

Umberto Eco

Cemetery Prague

Page 121

New Tawnee Stone Feb 2010

MONTECAMPIONE