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- (from the anarcobuddisti, Appendix 2)

Jona is working on the laptop in the room.

I'm sitting on the couch. Only. I'm sleepy. I do not want to do anything, this new life of meditation and self-discipline and abstinence sexual tires me more than the previous year. I do not know how long.

I fall asleep suddenly.

I have to go to the station with a dark blue Golf, lent old model from my aunt. She waits for me there, where I will refund the car and take the train to visit my mother. There should also be a friend of mine waiting for me at the station, Enzo.

I find parking near the entrance, will be a hundred meters. Really cool, there is also free parking.

I leave the car and entered the station, where my aunt is waiting for me with Enzo. I'll give you the keys. The train is at 17:18, I still have time. I go out and go with the car. But the car is gone. They have stolen in 15 minutes.

How is this possible? Maybe I remember correctly where I parked. We turn a bit ', Claudia is in a panic. Me too. The car was there, and now it's gone. I'll have to pay it off. I'm desperate, I could cry, my aunt is already crying. Enzo helps me to look for the machine, but it was there, and now it no longer is.

I will strive to repay. This is a big, very big mess. I have not ever gotten a bad luck like that. I do not see even really. I begin to drive around the city are close to the most infamous neighborhood, but I'm not afraid. Imagine, I am the last of the last.

The road is unpaved, the houses ruined. I did not think there were dirt roads in this fucking city. The houses are just huts, in front of me there is an abandoned factory. Few people around, almost nobody.

Suddenly a battered blue car, I do not know identify the model, he passes next to a breakneck speed for the job. Skidding in a curve to the left just before me, and stops suddenly in a clearing earthy. It occurs to me that is tracked.

down a guy running, gray-haired and chubby in his fifties, with a cardboard box in hand. He runs as if the devil at his heels, in my fucking way. I pass by with the box, and passes it to a guy who has materialized ten feet to my left, perhaps out of a nearby alley. It 'too middle-aged, is tall and dark glasses. I am appalled by the bizarre scene, I do not think the theft even more than before. I could be in the middle of a mess, but I'm not afraid at that time. It 's a scene from the movie.

When the Buddha grizzled meets the other guy, the one with dark glasses, he stops suddenly and gives him the box, but is open and something falls over and rolls in my direction. Of course I could get me my cocks, but there are no doors. I approach the object. What is it? I focus.

cazzutissimo A Rubik's cube. Why the fuck is a Rubik's cube on the ground in front of me? Enough, I gather. In a moment I have it in hand. E 'solved. I look at his face all yellow cube in my hand.

The chubby while coming toward me, in my cube in his hand. He stopped about five feet ahead of me. I look at him. I look at the cube. I look at him.

And I understand.

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Fritz Leiber

It is not known as a writer of limericks Fritz Leiber, one of the acknowledged masters of science fiction, fantasy and horror. Born in Chicago in 1910 he made his debut before the Second World War, and has since attracted three or maybe four generations of fans with his beautiful prose, his wit and his gripping story, decided to devote himself to any genre. Recently in Collection Urania was published New Moon, one of his most famous novels and exciting, a true classic of science fiction and epic choir. I of course I bought it and to my surprise ... I've got found in a limerick! One

character, Richard Hillary, make it a limerick (dedicated to Edward Lear ) inspired by the sight of a girl a little 'volgarotta view on the bus ... seems to me right back here, but unfortunately the translation has meant that it lost its original metric ...

was a young woman of Devizes
With the thoughts of two sizes: Most
passed through a needle's eye
others were as big as the moon;
the young woman in Devizes.

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Torino

There is an awkward sixteen of Turin
not know how to go on the motorcycle.
So, without haste,
took the bicycle,
until the day we came under a forint ...
that awkward sixteen of Turin.

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Wagner ... Dedicated

With Lillibò that sends me a nice Limerick Marche's blog back to life ... coming soon my other new contributions, along with those of other readers. Let's start!

A musician in Ascoli Piceno
wrote on its own "The Rhinegold".
I told him: "You're late.
He has already written the Rich."
desperation, killed himself with poison.

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Milarepa and Demons

And Milarepa was attacked by demons.

Demons fucking demons, demons all around him. He had arrived as well, there in solitary meditation, which had reached the point where the demons were the front wall, to prevent him from continuing the journey, a path that seemed more and more downhill, always easier now that he was nearing the purity.

destroyed it and dragged him with them, making it swings back and forth because the perception could afford. And he understood what was still vulnerable, as far from its realization. He pledged to fight them now, but he defeated more than it appeared, to the point that he finally was able to understand that nothing in reality were just an illusion. A suspect who had right away. Each time a new demon threatened him, but he was getting the same question, the same damn question:

How can I be sure that this is not real? As the others were not real, how can I be sure that this is an illusion?

and fights, chafing and tearing more and more.

That question, the damn question, was the root of all demons.

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a. .. :)

A blonde San Dalmazio
when he sang, Mom, what torment!
And even those who wanted to encourage
ended then to say "leave me alone!"
that stonatissimo blonde San Dalmazio.

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A gentleman of Aosta
wanted to open an account Bancoposta
but the queue at the cash
came up to Massa,
that patience, that lord of Aosta!

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Gianni Rodari, not just a children's writer Edward Lear

An Italian website limerick would not be complete without a short biography of the man who was among the first to bring this little art in Italy: Gianni Rodari, one of the greatest Italian writers of the twentieth century and, as I say in the title, a writer for children ... but not only.

Gianni Rodari was born October 23, 1920 at Omegna on Lake Orta.
In 1936, only 16 years, put on show managed to get published eight stories about the Catholic weekly "youth action" and to begin a collaboration with "Light", directed by Monsignor Sonzini. At the age of 17 he received a teaching diploma.
very sensitive person, he had always been a great intellectual curiosity that led him to read at an early age the works of Nietzsche, Stirner, Schopenhauer, Lenin, Stalin and Trotsky. In 1939 he enrolled at the Catholic University of Milan, Faculty of languages, but left after a few tests.
In 1940 he began teaching in different countries of Varese and, in 1941 won the competition for teacher going to teach as a substitute Uboldo. After the fall of fascism
Rodari approached the Communist Party, which he joined in 1944.
After the war he was appointed director of the newspaper "New Order" and in 1947, the 'unit "to Milan, where he began his career as the first reporter, chief reporter and later as special envoy. It was while working as a journalist who almost accidentally began to write children's stories.
In 1950 the party called him to Rome to direct the children's weekly, the "Pioneer". He took this job as a mission, he made available and from there gained much of his fortune. In those years he published "The book of nursery rhymes" and "Romance of the Onion." In 1953 he married Maria Teresa
Feretti, from which four years later had a daughter.
From September 1956 to November 1958 he returned to work to the 'Units "said the envoy for the page and then the cultural and, finally, the news editor. During these years she wrote a column in the newspaper very successful "because of the book, which later changed its name to" because the mail. " The best of this book was later made into a book after his death in 1984.
On 1 December 1958 he moved to the "country night" where in addition to working as a journalist, not political party, had the opportunity to continue to write for childhood.
In 1960 Einaudi published writings and his fame spread throughout Italy. The first book that came with the new publishing house was "Rhyme in heaven and on earth" in 1959. Let
"country night" in 1970 won the "Premio Andersen", the most important international competition for the literature of childhood.
In 1970 he began to publish and Einaudi Editori Riuniti.
Coming back from a trip to the USSR in 1979 began to suffer from circulatory problems that first brought him to death after surgery in 1980.

Even today, millions of children, not only in Italy, growing up with his stories, his rhymes, his "stories on the phone" e. .. his limericks. As evidence of his fortune should be mentioned the hundreds of parks, clubs, libraries, recreation centers, roads, and nursery and primary schools named after Gianni Rodari throughout Italy, the Bologna Corodari and consultation for children of the Democratic Left, headed also in his name.

A couple of limerick Rodari, drawn from his extensive bibliography

Once a doctor wanted to remove the tonsils Ferrara
a mosquito. The insect turned

and nose puncicò
Then tonsillifico doctor Ferrara

by G. Rodari, word play (grammar of the imagination)

A clever cook

A skilled chef named Dionysius
went to buy grapes Paris, so instead of simple omelets

was "omelettes" very sophisticated
that clever chef named Dionysius.

From nursery rhymes in heaven and on earth

Di Gianni Rodari (Emme Edizioni)

For completeness I add a poem, which is not a limerick but it remains one of my favorites ... one of the many little touches of genius that you can read between the pages of this wizard Rodari:)

Poor ane

If you go to Florence

certainly see that poor ane
mentioned by the people.

is a dog without a head,
poor beast.
really do not know how to bark
ago.

The head is said to
gliel'hanno eaten ...
(The "c" for the Florentine
dish is delicious).

But he does not complain,
is an expensive puppy, wagging

and celebrates all people.

How do you eat? Gentlemen, we are not investigating
:

there are many ways to pull a living.

Living Headless
is not the worst of the trouble:

many people have it but never uses it.

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There is a daredevil of Ravenna
that the bike just part
rears but the explanation is known to all those who have cheated the

the front wheel to the poor motorist Ravenna.

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A promising chef born in Bari
had a restaurant that just to save greedy


eat mosquitoes and seafood dishes.

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Edward Lear (London, 1812, San Remo 1888) is considered by many the first true writer of limericks, and it seems fair to dedicate a short biography in this blog.

After having experienced a difficult adolescence (twenty brothers and a father in debtor's prison) Edward Lear's life was troubled from childhood by his poor health (he was epileptic and asthmatic), but soon began to make drawings or sketches character zoological , which allowed him to earn a living since adolescence. As a naturalist painter earned the favor of the Earl of Derby who was home in his house, where he began to write his limericks to amuse the children of the Count.

In order to visit places more appropriate for her health, facilitated in this by his work, Edward Lear pass most of his life to travel, especially by binding with Italy: in 1837 en route to Rome, from there will travel a lot in the south. During all his travels Lear produces numerous reports illustrated. The only one of these was published in Italy "Diary of a journey on foot - Reggio Calabria and its province (25 July to 5 September 1847) " , published by Laruffa publisher.

Four years of work allowed him to collect his limerick accompanied by illustrations in the famous book A Book of Nonsense public in 1846 that behind the pseudonym Derry Down Derry .

nonsense of Edward Lear's work is not merely the limerick: Lear dabbled in botany or alphabets to write nonsense, which met in the book Nonsense Songs, Stories, Botany and Alphabets.

Above: the first edition of A Book of Nonsense

A Book of Nonsense began with this limerick

There Was an Old Derry down Derry, who loved to see little folks merry;
Them So he made a book, and with laughter at the fun of They Shook That Derry down Derry.

Altri limerick scelti dal volume, correlati dalla loro illustrazione

There was an Old Man with a nose,
Who said, 'If you choose to suppose,
That my nose is too long,
You are certainly wrong!'
That remarkable Man with a nose.

There was an Old Lady of Chertsey,
Who made a remarkable curtsey;
She twirled round and round,
Till she sunk underground,
Which distressed all the people of Chertsey.

There was an Old Man of the Hague,
Whose ideas were excessively vague; He built a balloon

To Examine the moon,
That deluded Old Man of the Hague.

a testament to what is not true that Lear was the inventor of the limerick, there are at least a two pamphlets published in 1820 and in 1821 one of which is news. The first is The History of Sixteen Wonderful Old Women, illustrated by as many Engravings: exhibing Their Principal Eccentricities and Amusements , published anonymously by John Harris and Son. Here's an example from one of its pages.

OLD WOMAN OF BATH
There was an Old Woman of Bath,
And She Was as thin as a Lath,
She Was brown as a berry,
With a Nose like a Cherry;
This skinny Old Woman of Bath.

The second book is Anecdotes and Adventures of Fifteen Gentlemen , published by John Marshall and probably written by Richard Sharpe Scrafton and illustrated by Robert Cruikshank. Here's an example taken from this volume.

An old gentleman living at Harwich,
At ninety Was thinking of marriage,
Came In His Granson,
Who Was just twenty-one,
And Went off with the bride in His carriage.

That can not be recognized the primacy of time obviously does not mean anything to the importance of Edward Lear, still considered among the most important English writers of the 800 the "father of the limerick."

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Sorry for my absence, but my attention was turned to other things in recent days:) But still the limerick!

last year on a visit to Berlin I met a Chinese woman in Beijing

Then I
magazine in Spain and even in Britain! That
Chinese backpackers in Beijing.

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thought you would please tell Frankie
hours Four Fingers,
robbed him of cash in exchange for diamonds

that thief Frankie Four Fingers.

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I met a girl from Lisbon
nice, pretty ... in fact, bona!
But if you looked wrong
bevevi Porto, Lisbon alcoholic
that beautiful!

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Two other good limerick came from two readers of the blog ... I'm pleased that while still young already levies a minimum success)

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There once was a man who escaped from Forlì
strong pee
went to open the door
bathroom but we found a beautiful spider attacked
quell'aracnofobico lord of Forlì! And we continue with the

SignorinaG , who rightly took the opportunity to advertise his blog:)

cheerful chatty bloggers
one day gave birth to ArezZona
The first blog about Arezzo the idea was so
threw himself on the job, head down and ready for battle.
is the invention of the mad blogger chatterbox!

Thanks to both! Be heard!

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A limerick of my pirate-themed, since Pirates of the Caribbean still in theaters ... :)

A funny pirate island Tortuga
had a slow turtle as a pet. He carried on his shoulder

as a kind of parrot that
tartomane Tortuga Pirate!

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This left the Sinensis :)

There once was a man of Mestre
who lived in a house without windows
but when the electricity bill came
launched a cry to the whole voice that
stingy man of Mestre

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There was a brilliant young Arezzo
liked the words to which a casino.
And he could do,
if not limerick,
this blog's open little?

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What is a limerick?

A limerick is a short poem typical of the English language, content usually nonsense and often limits the obscene, which aims to make you laugh or at least smile. The limerick classic is always composed of five verses, of which the first two and the last, rhymed with each other, containing three feet and then three accents, while the third and the fourth, in turn rhymed with each other, contain only two. The scheme, therefore, is AABB, although exceptions to this rule are legion.

limerick In most common first line must always contain the protagonist, a qualifying adjective for him and the geographical location where the action takes place, while the other verses sum up the story and the last line (usually) is invoked protagonist, perhaps calling it better.

The origins of the limerick are absolutely unknown, and although there are many assumptions no research has ever dug into the roots of this comic and licentious poem. The Oxford Dictionary Inglese, first and main source of origin of the limerick, argues that This report comes from the tradition of nonsense verse at weddings, which often ended with the verses phrase "will you come up to Limerick?" or the city and the anonymous Irish county. A confirmation of this theory, to be honest, there is nowhere ... but since there are none better let us take it for good!

The limerick was made famous by Edward Lear (1812-1886), painter, poet and teacher of drawing of Queen Victoria, which has virtually codified what is the modern limerick, while in earlier times the current was nonsense replaced by a more popular obscenities. Limerick, more or less known were also written by Lewis Carroll, Robert Louis Stevenson, James Joyce and Bertrand Russell.

In Italy it is worth mentioning at least Gianni Rodari, that the "Construction of a Limerick" has even dedicated an entire chapter of his brilliant Grammar of Fantasy. And with a limerick by Gianni Rodari, author to be rediscovered by young and old, seem fair to open this little blog, my personal tribute to a little art that can be a great way to play with words:) A gentleman

Tiny Como
once climbed on top of the Duomo
and when he was on top
was as high as first gentleman
micropiccolo Como.

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Consumer Products

From Chapter 18 of Volume I'm writing as yet untitled ..

-It 's probably too good and too easy to get caught up in our lives recursive, not realizing that they are in effect circular. Imagine it like a whirlpool, a well. Each particle rotates in a circle inward, more and more inward, more and more until you reach the center and disappear. Of course, you ignore the fact that soon disappear in the middle of the well, but you look all that wheel with us and you can see it still. Power of the reference systems. Yes, the samsara is on this earth guys. And 'this land. Easy-flowing like water

makes a gesture with his hand, accompanying the thought away. Laurent is outside smoking.

"If we treat everything like a product to be consumed, we will come also treated as a consumer. Until we are productive, we will be consumed, exploited, used to maintain something that is above us, that we can not know. The can be given different names, company, country, what God wants done is something that is parasitic, without leaving us without giving us trapped in the vortex-escape to get out

makes a small pause, and holds a giggle.

tools in the hands of God-Consumer Products-

You grab with thumb and index finger to the top of the nose, rubbing his eyes. His expression is almost regal. He has something not interpretable. Fascinating.

-I leave you go, you liked the tea? - Part

a chorus of yes of course. It was excellent, almost evanescent.

-I decided to live in these planes because I spent all my energy to drag someone with me. I decided to run alone. My contribution to the whole point is to believe, and continue to believe that deep down every man there is respect and love, ability to live without overpowering others or anything around him. My contribution is to keep this fire-lit

Anon Realm Or Figment

A long journey in stages

Long pause,
but not for the thought that between an idea and the other went into a long computational loop. Between sunset and that only ideas that bloom, often already rotten wear that contaminates all the incipient consumer, you can end up in a hornet's nest of contradictions as in an underground fight tournament set on nothing less than the dream of a horizon.

Well, this is what can happen, not what necessarily or mere fatalism must happen.

happens then try to lucubrate something about Temporary Autonomous Zone, or the bad version of TAZ, if you have no idea what can be read here:

http://www.hermetic.com/ bey / taz_cont.html

in Italian a little bit here on review dell'ononimo Bey's book:

http://www.shake.it/taz.html

Yes, the question is just this: you can create a companies in society? What would be the requirements? How can it survive and what conditions must come down with the company of masters?

A soft and spiritual anarchist, as my dear friend would say it is easily resolved and harmony can be created, in addition to terms that need to get off to survive, otherwise you would not if it's okay. Many libertarians would disagree: the revolution there must be and how. Mah.

not enough that groped. Meanwhile place in my head to post a photo processing, a sort of image-viewing, with only accidental defect of being static ..

dje ..

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Dog hydrophobic

- Preview with what seems to be what I'm writing now, and where Luz's story is nothing more than a chapter ..--

remember exactly what 'moment: Map was restless, everything was ready but did not seem enough, our enthusiasm could not fly, filed by her looks thoughtful.

He was a true anarchist, you could tell by his innate sense of control and its disconcerting rationality. This may seem paradoxical, but it is not. He hated those who did not care to tread on other people in their chaotic gait, for it was because of them that there was the need for rules and the subsequent repression. Because of the repressive apparatus acquired their meaning, and could start to grow up to have independent existence, creating the need for a target. Continue targets.
itself up to become a mad dog, you can not kill without collateral damage.
Without breaking any pots. Some

-tank must break-in cabin
snapped Mappo Laurent.
-Only with your help we can. Only with him and through him-
-What? You're out-
-really believe that we can do it yourself? To reduce the large figliodiputtana mad dog? -
-This is not what you said up to now? I believe-you-
does not account for all the details. They have trained well the machine will crush us. There is a secret weapon, powerful, so powerful that they can not even put in account-

Laurent smoking his old pipe.
a sexy calendar on the wall. 2002.
noise of wind whistling through the windows.

-oh dickhead, what are you hiding? What have not you say? -
-quiet guys, let him explain
-know-the training that I have done? Imagine where we can bring? well, much, much further. just not everyone can go. is a diagram of the world, just the diverse strands. remove and re-weave. there is someone who makes it-I repeat-
you're out-
-morrow. Tomorrow I will present an exceptional person. Tomorrow will be here-

Wind. Still the wind. Relentlessly, beyond the ocean.

The smell of the revolt was in the air. Although Tito was so angry, he was sniffing it.

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The man is his freedom to transgress.

Quis custodiet ipsos custodes
? (Juvenal, II century AD)

The proliferation of technologies of control of man by man appears to be an unstoppable trend in recent decades.

are put in place more restrictions, prohibitions and control equipment, day after day, month after month, year after year. With the idea of \u200b\u200bsafeguarding freedom dies, the concept of freedom itself.
The rules, originally functional to social life, lose the flexibility to represent a complex system such as humanity, not under a system of axioms absolute and immutable.

continually growing Zoo cameras on the streets, squares and apparatus for recording telephone technology for monitoring the network for the tracking of every single molecule of shit that comes out of our tired sphincter.
are two possible extreme scenarios, if the trend towards increasing control does not stop, well beaten by both science fiction writers, and both disgustingly dystopian: either dramatically decreases the number of specimens to be tested, see T. Malthus, or dramatically increasing the ability of technology to monitor and punish transgressions without a need to coordinate human translated, artificial intelligence. The cop
bionic, the dehumanization of the cop. The nightmare. Being loyal to a code only, without the ability to feel emotions. Without knowing the freedom to transgress. Until it becomes stronger than the man himself.
Nothing now seems able to stop the spiral more control - more control, more transgressions. It 's a deadly game.

there a third way? Nothing if not a revolution, but most likely far from being aware that an event could easily lead in scenario number one. Maybe sitting by the river is the only viable alternative to look at the theater.

The man is his freedom to transgress. Where there is no absolute, there are no rules that can constrain the system within the tracks to ever come out. Transgress to change, evolve to transgress. Transgress to be human. We've been given the freedom to transgress, together with that to understand and forgive. These do not remove or the machines or the powerful.

There are no rules that we can not prove wrong or contradictory in at least one situation. But this
, who had already claimed?

http://www.privacy.it/ueechelon.html


je

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My mother (from "the story of Luz")



After a long time, and events and agitated, finally threw in a piece of "history Luz, "I'm trying to write ..


decided to go out of town because I'd had more than my mother. Talented woman, but spirits evoked every two to three magical presence in the living room and dead animals hanging here and there I was, as you can tell, a bit 'broken my balls.
Sure you do so you stupid idea of \u200b\u200bmy mother as a witch from peanuts that practice rituals stupid and obvious, it seems very mainstream, almost ridiculous contention someone.
In reality, however, his whole philosophical system rests upon an assumption of unchanging and beautiful in her madness: she did not believe just anything.
Then, all was experienced.

In science, she did not believe.
In society, she did not believe.
In death, she did not believe.
superstition, she did not believe.
In religion, then, well I can tell you also avoid.

the experiment could only make her happy, and when he realized that everything would not have been able to experience in life (I wanted to see her struggling with genetic engineering) was shared with her as the all make choices, and his second principle (or the maximum freedom, what I would broadcast in the years) inevitably led her to seek those hidden streets where the man just can not pass, or so they say, either because they want to be winding to be taken to be more tight asshole of a chihuahua.

Ah yes, the principle of maximum freedom.

She was adamant that he had nothing of the rules, so everything was all set to the maximum freedom (words his). Totally disorganized, I would say. Chaotic, anarchic, someone else would say.
will try to explain more thoroughly, though it is very difficult to speak of the principle of freedom of my mother, perhaps not even she would be able, while it is much easier to put it into practice.
All that we can see is organized according to the rules, they are a game, or are the laws of society, or the laws of physics. Well, she lived under the firm conviction that those who play by the rules or what it does for its choice.
And his choice to lift ourselves out.
enough to want it.

The consequences are that: one, not There is nothing a priori impossible, two, do not believe anyone who will not tip in an observation on the absolute three, must always go in the direction of freedom, because the rules and do not falter sooner or later you have to be too attached to them, which most people do.

Also for the principle of freedom so she decided to devote himself to the testing of the most fascinating and esoteric fields of knowledge where he could make the most sensational and shocking discoveries.