two post per month. The average of my blog this year. I write less. I speak less. I am interested less. Policy. Of my life. Many times I started to write a piece but then I stalled and I left it there. I have accumulated a couple of pages of word ramshackle, in a file that I called "latest", maybe I should rename it "unfinished". Every time I open it with the intention of closing at least one post. I re-read the small pieces, leaving the usual temptation to delete them, but I can not complete them. And then another begins. It will be the right time? I try to do a collage of these notes spread out over several arguments to create and publish a new post.
The first "latest" refers to Giusva Fioravanti and Francesca Mambro. The title should be "They did not." Edit Copy, Edit Paste, and here it is:
They did not. We swear. It 's impossible. Why would they always deny it? What had to lose? Him life imprisonment, life imprisonment her. No, I have nothing to do with this assassination. They can be neither were the originators nor the perpetrators. Mambro and Fioravanti. What a strange story to them! Intelligent people who did wrong. What they paid for. Terrorists and killers confessed. Also indicated their involvement in unrelated to any Bologna train station massacre. I believe him. They did not. Instinctively, while deprecating sincerely for their crimes, I have always felt a certain sympathy for them. I know that statement is politically incorrect, but it's true. Moreover in our country nobody is too shocked for the sympathy of many so-called left-wing intellectuals and assassinations against terrorists in red. Lorsignori to the Red Brigades were the "comrades who make mistakes", but that ultimately had more than one reason that could explain their errors, although these errors were homicides. Mambro and Fioravanti, like many other terrorists of all colors, would have deserved to finish their days in jail, but we know that in Italy it is virtually impossible for convicts scontino for their entire sentence. Sympathy therefore does not make me change the hard and clear opinion on them. I condemn them and I find no justification for their actions. But I remain convinced that the massacre of the Bologna train station have nothing to do.
The second piece about a dog. The dog of my youth, who attended every day that I left my parents when I got married and moved, which then died away from me. He was an English setter female. His name was Simba, Simbotta the term of endearment. I often remember it. This summer, during a short vacation in Liguria, I happened to dream. And it was one of those dreams that then you can not forget. Here's a short guide to that dream, written the day after:
seemed all too true. You are the smartest dog there is! The three times I cried, embracing her, before I wake. A long embrace, lying on the ground. After a wild ride Simbotta had joined me. I was happy. I woke up suddenly. I felt a tremendous disappointment when I realized that it was only a dream. I wept bitterly. Desperately.
Scroll down the page and find the unfinished Ronde in Voghera. The title of a post ever written, not even started. Only thought. I wanted to report my concern aftermath of a meeting of majority in Voghera, during which I asked the Mayor, the Councillors and other members present to continue the project to establish patrol in Voghera within the term of the current administration, exploiting the headway the security decree recently issued by the Government. The answer was ice, it suddenly changed the subject. Someone in the room Caritatis, told me that was not the case as a favor to the league. Mysteries of politics! I wanted to write and report of this episode were rather controversial, but then decided against it.
few lines are not exactly cheerful and optimistic, that a photograph of my frequent moments of sterile self-pity. Shameless and with little respect for myself, here carryover:
Living in limbo. Living in the wind. Swirling winds of time that flies away like dead leaves in autumn. Twenty years. Nearly thirty autumns ago. The cry is now heading. Faster the transition from one season to another. Sad and trite allegory about the seasons. Trite and sad laments of men who can not give answers.
Poor mediocrity. A resounding silence in a dark blinding. On like this without thinking. Let him live.
After the attack on Berlusconi to Sunday, December 13, I wanted to write "hot" all my indignation against the "principals". I stalled, I would then write rationally and coolly. Meanwhile, I watched TV debate, I read newspaper articles, I was further outraged and disgusted at the transmission Annozero, thinking all the worst possible quartet Santoro-Travaglio-Di Pietro-Vauro. A few days before the dismal show of Santoro & Co., also quite annoyed by the false solidarity with Berlusconi by those who deeply hate him, I began to compile a list, I wanted to complete sentences and reasoning made sense:
Envious , envy, communist, democratic, defeatists, pessimists, nihilists, false, false, boastful, detractors, conspirators, partisan, petulant, bureaucrats, conceited, opinionated, Manichaean, malicious, conspiracy, politicians, losers, violent, virulent, strutting, intellectual, frustrated, bloated, boring, crawling, mocking, strasfottenti, petty, inept, annoying, dull, gray, severe, heavy, gossipari, promoters, ex, homosexual, transex, extra-parliamentary, anti-globalization, no party, noCav, notables, a reputation, not, nauseating.
Well, reading this sequel, I do not need any further reasoning.
I finally reassembled and brought back the notes of the Word file. But I also have a notebook on which I write every so often and from which on other occasions I have written several pieces on the PC. I see it. Yes, there is something that I could return, but this post I was already tired. Close. Attila
The first "latest" refers to Giusva Fioravanti and Francesca Mambro. The title should be "They did not." Edit Copy, Edit Paste, and here it is:
They did not. We swear. It 's impossible. Why would they always deny it? What had to lose? Him life imprisonment, life imprisonment her. No, I have nothing to do with this assassination. They can be neither were the originators nor the perpetrators. Mambro and Fioravanti. What a strange story to them! Intelligent people who did wrong. What they paid for. Terrorists and killers confessed. Also indicated their involvement in unrelated to any Bologna train station massacre. I believe him. They did not. Instinctively, while deprecating sincerely for their crimes, I have always felt a certain sympathy for them. I know that statement is politically incorrect, but it's true. Moreover in our country nobody is too shocked for the sympathy of many so-called left-wing intellectuals and assassinations against terrorists in red. Lorsignori to the Red Brigades were the "comrades who make mistakes", but that ultimately had more than one reason that could explain their errors, although these errors were homicides. Mambro and Fioravanti, like many other terrorists of all colors, would have deserved to finish their days in jail, but we know that in Italy it is virtually impossible for convicts scontino for their entire sentence. Sympathy therefore does not make me change the hard and clear opinion on them. I condemn them and I find no justification for their actions. But I remain convinced that the massacre of the Bologna train station have nothing to do.
The second piece about a dog. The dog of my youth, who attended every day that I left my parents when I got married and moved, which then died away from me. He was an English setter female. His name was Simba, Simbotta the term of endearment. I often remember it. This summer, during a short vacation in Liguria, I happened to dream. And it was one of those dreams that then you can not forget. Here's a short guide to that dream, written the day after:
seemed all too true. You are the smartest dog there is! The three times I cried, embracing her, before I wake. A long embrace, lying on the ground. After a wild ride Simbotta had joined me. I was happy. I woke up suddenly. I felt a tremendous disappointment when I realized that it was only a dream. I wept bitterly. Desperately.
Scroll down the page and find the unfinished Ronde in Voghera. The title of a post ever written, not even started. Only thought. I wanted to report my concern aftermath of a meeting of majority in Voghera, during which I asked the Mayor, the Councillors and other members present to continue the project to establish patrol in Voghera within the term of the current administration, exploiting the headway the security decree recently issued by the Government. The answer was ice, it suddenly changed the subject. Someone in the room Caritatis, told me that was not the case as a favor to the league. Mysteries of politics! I wanted to write and report of this episode were rather controversial, but then decided against it.
few lines are not exactly cheerful and optimistic, that a photograph of my frequent moments of sterile self-pity. Shameless and with little respect for myself, here carryover:
Living in limbo. Living in the wind. Swirling winds of time that flies away like dead leaves in autumn. Twenty years. Nearly thirty autumns ago. The cry is now heading. Faster the transition from one season to another. Sad and trite allegory about the seasons. Trite and sad laments of men who can not give answers.
Poor mediocrity. A resounding silence in a dark blinding. On like this without thinking. Let him live.
After the attack on Berlusconi to Sunday, December 13, I wanted to write "hot" all my indignation against the "principals". I stalled, I would then write rationally and coolly. Meanwhile, I watched TV debate, I read newspaper articles, I was further outraged and disgusted at the transmission Annozero, thinking all the worst possible quartet Santoro-Travaglio-Di Pietro-Vauro. A few days before the dismal show of Santoro & Co., also quite annoyed by the false solidarity with Berlusconi by those who deeply hate him, I began to compile a list, I wanted to complete sentences and reasoning made sense:
Envious , envy, communist, democratic, defeatists, pessimists, nihilists, false, false, boastful, detractors, conspirators, partisan, petulant, bureaucrats, conceited, opinionated, Manichaean, malicious, conspiracy, politicians, losers, violent, virulent, strutting, intellectual, frustrated, bloated, boring, crawling, mocking, strasfottenti, petty, inept, annoying, dull, gray, severe, heavy, gossipari, promoters, ex, homosexual, transex, extra-parliamentary, anti-globalization, no party, noCav, notables, a reputation, not, nauseating.
Well, reading this sequel, I do not need any further reasoning.
I finally reassembled and brought back the notes of the Word file. But I also have a notebook on which I write every so often and from which on other occasions I have written several pieces on the PC. I see it. Yes, there is something that I could return, but this post I was already tired. Close. Attila
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