Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Lighting Spandex Volleyball Shorts
Ode to charity
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love
,
be like sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy
and understand all mysteries and all knowledge
and I have all faith so as to move mountains, but have not love
,
I am nothing.
And though I bestow all my goods,
and give my body to be burned,
but have not love, I gain nothing
.
Love is patient, is kind
charity
is not envious, does not boast,
not puffed up, does not lack respect,
not seek its own interests, not angry,
takes no account of evil;
does not rejoice
but rejoices with the truth.
endures all things, believes all things,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
Prophecies will cease;
the gift of tongues will cease, and science will vanish;
our knowledge is imperfect, and we prophesy
.
But when that which is perfect,
what is partial will pass away.
As a child I spake as a child, I thought
a child, I reasoned like a child.
I became a man, what a child I was abandoned.
now we see through a glass, darkly;
but then face to face.
Now I know in part but then shall I know perfectly well how
are known.
And now these three remain:
faith, hope and charity;
but the greatest of these is love!
If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love
,
be like sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.
And if I have the gift of prophecy
and understand all mysteries and all knowledge
and I have all faith so as to move mountains, but have not love
,
I am nothing.
And though I bestow all my goods,
and give my body to be burned,
but have not love, I gain nothing
.
Love is patient, is kind
charity
is not envious, does not boast,
not puffed up, does not lack respect,
not seek its own interests, not angry,
takes no account of evil;
does not rejoice
but rejoices with the truth.
endures all things, believes all things,
always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
Prophecies will cease;
the gift of tongues will cease, and science will vanish;
our knowledge is imperfect, and we prophesy
.
But when that which is perfect,
what is partial will pass away.
As a child I spake as a child, I thought
a child, I reasoned like a child.
I became a man, what a child I was abandoned.
now we see through a glass, darkly;
but then face to face.
Now I know in part but then shall I know perfectly well how
are known.
And now these three remain:
faith, hope and charity;
but the greatest of these is love!
S. Paul - First Corinthians 13: 1-13
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Turbo Solitaire Shockwave
Changeling and three-headed Martian
Some crazy in America (a minority, but still significant) wrote that the latest film by Clint Eastwood (the last great classics of cinema left) is a lesser film. I understand that in the last ten years Clint has competed in more than himself and that the worst of his films is larger than most others, but also if we compare the last film to the magnificent "Mystic River," "Million Dollar Baby "and" Letters from Iwo Jima ", these statements leave me somewhat perplexed. So much for me to do a brief account about this: If
" Changeling" is not a masterpiece, I'm an alien with three heads, four arms, five eyes ... not to mention the tail of plastic, metal, pointed nose and ears cerapongo (and neglecting the fact that I can fly and paint with the thought).
What I have to say I told you. In fact, I add a note: if you do not give an Oscar for Angelina (who also made films and played horrible evil but here it is transformed as an angel, in the role of life) come to Los Angeles and split everything!
Some crazy in America (a minority, but still significant) wrote that the latest film by Clint Eastwood (the last great classics of cinema left) is a lesser film. I understand that in the last ten years Clint has competed in more than himself and that the worst of his films is larger than most others, but also if we compare the last film to the magnificent "Mystic River," "Million Dollar Baby "and" Letters from Iwo Jima ", these statements leave me somewhat perplexed. So much for me to do a brief account about this: If
" Changeling" is not a masterpiece, I'm an alien with three heads, four arms, five eyes ... not to mention the tail of plastic, metal, pointed nose and ears cerapongo (and neglecting the fact that I can fly and paint with the thought).
What I have to say I told you. In fact, I add a note: if you do not give an Oscar for Angelina (who also made films and played horrible evil but here it is transformed as an angel, in the role of life) come to Los Angeles and split everything!
Monday, November 17, 2008
Add Music Mount&blade
Wonderland
For Alice ... "There was too much wonder, nor did Alice think it was too strange to hear the Rabbit, who said to himself: "Alas! Alas! I'm late! "(when she thought it later, he realized he would have wondered, but then it all seemed quite natural) but when the Rabbit actually took a watch from his waistcoat pocket and consulted him, and began to escape, Alice jumped up thinking he had ever seen a rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket, or a watch to tear out out, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it arrived and just in time to see him enter a large rabbit under the hedge. A moment later, Alice ran after sliding down, without thinking about how he would then get out. "
For Alice ... "There was too much wonder, nor did Alice think it was too strange to hear the Rabbit, who said to himself: "Alas! Alas! I'm late! "(when she thought it later, he realized he would have wondered, but then it all seemed quite natural) but when the Rabbit actually took a watch from his waistcoat pocket and consulted him, and began to escape, Alice jumped up thinking he had ever seen a rabbit with a waistcoat and pocket, or a watch to tear out out, and, burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it arrived and just in time to see him enter a large rabbit under the hedge. A moment later, Alice ran after sliding down, without thinking about how he would then get out. "
L. Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Kathryn Beich Katydids
You can do
flu is coming. "The bride's father, sad example of the new Christmas film of Boldi and company, in anticipation of Christmas and cristiandesicano" Christmas in Rio de Janeiro, will arrive tomorrow in Italian cinema with a monstrous number of copies. To vaccinate against the idiocy passes for cinema, I suggest you go and see, and show your friends, "You can do" , intelligent Giulio Manfredonia and funny comedy about a cooperative of former patients of psychiatric hospitals, set in the 80s immediately after the reform Basaglia that closed mental hospitals, giving an opportunity for social reintegration of these people considered the most "crazy". The real fools are those who, instead go and see this delightful film - played by talented actors and full of humor and depth - self-defeating decide to waste two hours of their existence (paid too) by going behind the Christmas Clips above. The fact is that the film was released in Manfredonia few copies and has not had any publicity. So the only possibility that has to be seen is the word of mouth. Difficult? Yes, but I say that "we can do." So I urge you to give you a move to help him.
A little gem: I attended the screening of the film in Trieste. In addition to the cast was present writer, who - about the title - said: "I filed the first draft of the screenplay to the SIAE in 2001, and even then it was called" You can do ". If I was in America, they would say that I anticipated the motto of Obama. Because I'm in Italy, I was accused of having copied Veltroni. "
flu is coming. "The bride's father, sad example of the new Christmas film of Boldi and company, in anticipation of Christmas and cristiandesicano" Christmas in Rio de Janeiro, will arrive tomorrow in Italian cinema with a monstrous number of copies. To vaccinate against the idiocy passes for cinema, I suggest you go and see, and show your friends, "You can do" , intelligent Giulio Manfredonia and funny comedy about a cooperative of former patients of psychiatric hospitals, set in the 80s immediately after the reform Basaglia that closed mental hospitals, giving an opportunity for social reintegration of these people considered the most "crazy". The real fools are those who, instead go and see this delightful film - played by talented actors and full of humor and depth - self-defeating decide to waste two hours of their existence (paid too) by going behind the Christmas Clips above. The fact is that the film was released in Manfredonia few copies and has not had any publicity. So the only possibility that has to be seen is the word of mouth. Difficult? Yes, but I say that "we can do." So I urge you to give you a move to help him.
A little gem: I attended the screening of the film in Trieste. In addition to the cast was present writer, who - about the title - said: "I filed the first draft of the screenplay to the SIAE in 2001, and even then it was called" You can do ". If I was in America, they would say that I anticipated the motto of Obama. Because I'm in Italy, I was accused of having copied Veltroni. "
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Manuka Honey Hair Loss Shampoo
Yes, we can
" If is there anyone out there who still has doubts that America is a place where anything is possible, doubts that the dream of our founding fathers is still alive, that questions the power of our democracy, this night has been answered.
is the response of young and old, rich and poor, Democrats and Republicans, whites and blacks, Hispanics and Asians, gay and straight, disabled or not ... The Americans have launched a message to the world we have never been simply a series of individuals or a group of blue states and red states. We are and always will be the United States of America ...
We set up a new spirit of patriotism, responsibility, where each of us is committed to work harder, and cater not only for us but also for the next ... In this country we fall and rise as one nation, one people. We must resist the temptation to return to the divisions and the immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long ...
These elections have already had many firsts and many stories to be told for generations, but one that comes to mind this evening about a woman who voted in Atlanta. Like millions of others got in line to make its voice heard in this election, with one difference: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
was born just a generation after slavery, during the period when there were no machines on the streets or airplanes in the sky, and when someone like her could not vote for two reasons - she was a woman and the color of his skin. And this year, in this election, she touched the screen with your finger, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best moments and darkest hours, you know how America can change ...
I've never had so much hope that this evening with you ... It 's been a long path. But tonight, for what we did in those days, in this election and in this defining moment in our history, change has come in America ...
Even as we celebrate tonight, we know that challenges of tomorrow will be the biggest of our lives: two wars, a world in danger, the worst financial crisis of the century ... The road in front of us is long, the climb is arduous. This path does not do it in a year or a presidential term, but we will succeed. I promise you that together we will succeed.
Yes we can ( Yes, we can ).
We got this far. We saw so much, but there is still much to do. Tonight we must ask ourselves if our children will live long enough to see the next century, if my daughters are so lucky to live more than 100 years, what changes will they see? What progress we have made? Now We can answer this question.
's our time. It 's our time. 'S time to give a job to people, open doors of opportunity to our children, to restore prosperity and promote peace. Reviving the American dream and to reaffirm a great truth: that even though many, we are one. That while we breathe, we hope. And when we are met with cynicism and doubt, and those who tell us that we can not answer you with the endless hope that combines the spirit of a people:
Yes we can ( Yes, we can ).
Thanks. God bless you and God bless the United States of America. "
" If is there anyone out there who still has doubts that America is a place where anything is possible, doubts that the dream of our founding fathers is still alive, that questions the power of our democracy, this night has been answered.
is the response of young and old, rich and poor, Democrats and Republicans, whites and blacks, Hispanics and Asians, gay and straight, disabled or not ... The Americans have launched a message to the world we have never been simply a series of individuals or a group of blue states and red states. We are and always will be the United States of America ...
We set up a new spirit of patriotism, responsibility, where each of us is committed to work harder, and cater not only for us but also for the next ... In this country we fall and rise as one nation, one people. We must resist the temptation to return to the divisions and the immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long ...
These elections have already had many firsts and many stories to be told for generations, but one that comes to mind this evening about a woman who voted in Atlanta. Like millions of others got in line to make its voice heard in this election, with one difference: Ann Nixon Cooper is 106 years old.
was born just a generation after slavery, during the period when there were no machines on the streets or airplanes in the sky, and when someone like her could not vote for two reasons - she was a woman and the color of his skin. And this year, in this election, she touched the screen with your finger, and cast her vote, because after 106 years in America, through the best moments and darkest hours, you know how America can change ...
I've never had so much hope that this evening with you ... It 's been a long path. But tonight, for what we did in those days, in this election and in this defining moment in our history, change has come in America ...
Even as we celebrate tonight, we know that challenges of tomorrow will be the biggest of our lives: two wars, a world in danger, the worst financial crisis of the century ... The road in front of us is long, the climb is arduous. This path does not do it in a year or a presidential term, but we will succeed. I promise you that together we will succeed.
Yes we can ( Yes, we can ).
We got this far. We saw so much, but there is still much to do. Tonight we must ask ourselves if our children will live long enough to see the next century, if my daughters are so lucky to live more than 100 years, what changes will they see? What progress we have made? Now We can answer this question.
's our time. It 's our time. 'S time to give a job to people, open doors of opportunity to our children, to restore prosperity and promote peace. Reviving the American dream and to reaffirm a great truth: that even though many, we are one. That while we breathe, we hope. And when we are met with cynicism and doubt, and those who tell us that we can not answer you with the endless hope that combines the spirit of a people:
Yes we can ( Yes, we can ).
Thanks. God bless you and God bless the United States of America. "
Barack Obama, 44th president of the United States of America
Monday, November 3, 2008
Tv Center 4.9 Windows 7
Felipe Massa, his father and supermodel
Felipe And in the end did not have it done. He lost the championship for two curves too. Those that have allowed Hamilton to pass Glock finished fifth, winning the four key points to keep the championship lead. In the most exciting Grand Prix of the year, the miracle did not happen, even if for a couple of laps it seemed there, one step away. But in this carom of strong emotions that have accompanied the Interlagos crowd and viewers at home, shows the assembly of two alternating framed box in the decisive moments of the race. On the one hand (box Ferrari) was the father of mass framed, red-faced in his throat and heart. The other (box McLaren), Hamilton's girlfriend, music star with supermodel physique.
The Pope and the Supermodel.
Nothing random, if you think the two pilots who have played the title.
Hamilton is cool. Hamilton is arrogant. Hamilton is a preordained. Kissed by the talented, very young age has shown it can win races with embarrassing ease and superiority. Not surprisingly, the first year in F1 was very close to the title, winning it the following season. Impulsive, self-confident, often at the center of controversy (For his thoughts on the track at the edge of the permissible and the undeniable fortune that accompanies his talent.) That's who is Hamilton.
mass is small. Massa is humble. Massa has never been considered the best. He always had to fight to win every pole, every race, every chance of winning. Considered the second of Schumacher before, the second of Raikkonen then saw his teammates win the championship. And he always remained the crumbs. Generous, fair, loved by all (and it is no coincidence that yesterday all cheering for him, pilots, managers, spectators). That's who is Felipe.
So it makes sense that on the one hand we have the father of Felipe, a man of great heart and face ruddy. A father, hospitalized in the week before the decisive race of the child, the nurse warns: "If I did not resign before Sunday, jumping out the window and hit the circuit on foot." On the other hand we have the star instead of the Pussycat Dolls, pop / dance American, beautiful, truccatissima, famous, rich, inquadratissima.
And I'm with Felipe. because I'm driving the Ferrari with Felipe. I'm with Felipe regardless. I'm with him for the first time in his career has had the opportunity to win a World Cup, has done everything possible to conquer it, has been dogged by bad luck (Grand Prix driven into his head from the beginning and lost a lap from the end to an engine failure ... great prizes already won and lost almost outrageous mistakes mechanics) and eventually lost by a single point, having outclassed his opponent in the final race, win big in front of his people while his rival trudged in search of fifth place and it was only the penultimate corner. I'm with Felipe, whose eyes were crying on the podium most bitter of his career. One that perhaps will never be a chance to win a World Cup. Why Hamilton is very strong. Why Raikkonen (champion last year) has taken a vacation this year but the next great to come back. Why Alonso has a craving Ferrari to come in and go back to being number 1.
Hamilton won, only 23 years. And win again, because the talent is beyond question. It 's a good guy, a terrific pilot, and was the most consistent throughout the year. Also, to be sincere, fate has given him what he had taken. A year ago he came to the last race in Brazil, with a 7-point lead over Ferrari (Raikkonen) and lost the championship by just one point. This year has reached the final race, even in Brazil, with a 7-point lead over Ferrari (Massa) and won the championship by just one point. Okay so you say. Yes, but I predestined between the dandy humble little guy I choose the latter. Among the supermodel and her father choose the latter. Among those who won and who lost the world do I choose the latter. I'm with Felipe, anyway. Hoping that next year ...
Felipe And in the end did not have it done. He lost the championship for two curves too. Those that have allowed Hamilton to pass Glock finished fifth, winning the four key points to keep the championship lead. In the most exciting Grand Prix of the year, the miracle did not happen, even if for a couple of laps it seemed there, one step away. But in this carom of strong emotions that have accompanied the Interlagos crowd and viewers at home, shows the assembly of two alternating framed box in the decisive moments of the race. On the one hand (box Ferrari) was the father of mass framed, red-faced in his throat and heart. The other (box McLaren), Hamilton's girlfriend, music star with supermodel physique.
The Pope and the Supermodel.
Nothing random, if you think the two pilots who have played the title.
Hamilton is cool. Hamilton is arrogant. Hamilton is a preordained. Kissed by the talented, very young age has shown it can win races with embarrassing ease and superiority. Not surprisingly, the first year in F1 was very close to the title, winning it the following season. Impulsive, self-confident, often at the center of controversy (For his thoughts on the track at the edge of the permissible and the undeniable fortune that accompanies his talent.) That's who is Hamilton.
mass is small. Massa is humble. Massa has never been considered the best. He always had to fight to win every pole, every race, every chance of winning. Considered the second of Schumacher before, the second of Raikkonen then saw his teammates win the championship. And he always remained the crumbs. Generous, fair, loved by all (and it is no coincidence that yesterday all cheering for him, pilots, managers, spectators). That's who is Felipe.
So it makes sense that on the one hand we have the father of Felipe, a man of great heart and face ruddy. A father, hospitalized in the week before the decisive race of the child, the nurse warns: "If I did not resign before Sunday, jumping out the window and hit the circuit on foot." On the other hand we have the star instead of the Pussycat Dolls, pop / dance American, beautiful, truccatissima, famous, rich, inquadratissima.
And I'm with Felipe. because I'm driving the Ferrari with Felipe. I'm with Felipe regardless. I'm with him for the first time in his career has had the opportunity to win a World Cup, has done everything possible to conquer it, has been dogged by bad luck (Grand Prix driven into his head from the beginning and lost a lap from the end to an engine failure ... great prizes already won and lost almost outrageous mistakes mechanics) and eventually lost by a single point, having outclassed his opponent in the final race, win big in front of his people while his rival trudged in search of fifth place and it was only the penultimate corner. I'm with Felipe, whose eyes were crying on the podium most bitter of his career. One that perhaps will never be a chance to win a World Cup. Why Hamilton is very strong. Why Raikkonen (champion last year) has taken a vacation this year but the next great to come back. Why Alonso has a craving Ferrari to come in and go back to being number 1.
Hamilton won, only 23 years. And win again, because the talent is beyond question. It 's a good guy, a terrific pilot, and was the most consistent throughout the year. Also, to be sincere, fate has given him what he had taken. A year ago he came to the last race in Brazil, with a 7-point lead over Ferrari (Raikkonen) and lost the championship by just one point. This year has reached the final race, even in Brazil, with a 7-point lead over Ferrari (Massa) and won the championship by just one point. Okay so you say. Yes, but I predestined between the dandy humble little guy I choose the latter. Among the supermodel and her father choose the latter. Among those who won and who lost the world do I choose the latter. I'm with Felipe, anyway. Hoping that next year ...
Friday, October 31, 2008
Spouse Can They Do Self Employed
crisis
Why should a viewer, after following a tan, should be discouraged?
There is perhaps that we are facing a serious economic crisis? No. Is there any problem with the public school? No. The researchers of the Italian universities have perhaps some reason to complain? No. We are a country where every day they die at least a couple of people at work? No. Our national airline has just failed?
No. So what? No, I say this because our prime minister has said verbatim:
"Rai spreads anxiety and pessimism. Intervene since the tv gives peace of mind. "
Here's the funny answer the journalist's Republic Sebastiano Messina :
Optimism in unified networks
How can Rai," cooperate with the government to spread peace ' ? It 's simple. Meanwhile, following the example of Mediaset, or by embarking on a film inspired by a rosy optimism government. A few examples: "The crisis is wonderful," "How to lose a million € and live happily" or "007 work can wait."
Then you have to give a better aggiustatine programs in the schedule, because it may spread a bit 'of good cheer among viewers. Beginning with Raitre, of course. Fabio Fazio The program will be called from now on "What a great time doing," "Bittersweet" will be renamed "Delicious" and "One day in district court" will become "A Sunday at the carnival." Raidue must delete "unresolved killings" and replace with "The Mysteries of Father Christmas." As Raiuno, is already in order. The only change will be the new broadcast Saturday night, "Carfagna, what luck!".
Why should a viewer, after following a tan, should be discouraged?
There is perhaps that we are facing a serious economic crisis? No. Is there any problem with the public school? No. The researchers of the Italian universities have perhaps some reason to complain? No. We are a country where every day they die at least a couple of people at work? No. Our national airline has just failed?
No. So what? No, I say this because our prime minister has said verbatim:
"Rai spreads anxiety and pessimism. Intervene since the tv gives peace of mind. "
Here's the funny answer the journalist's Republic Sebastiano Messina :
Optimism in unified networks
How can Rai," cooperate with the government to spread peace ' ? It 's simple. Meanwhile, following the example of Mediaset, or by embarking on a film inspired by a rosy optimism government. A few examples: "The crisis is wonderful," "How to lose a million € and live happily" or "007 work can wait."
Then you have to give a better aggiustatine programs in the schedule, because it may spread a bit 'of good cheer among viewers. Beginning with Raitre, of course. Fabio Fazio The program will be called from now on "What a great time doing," "Bittersweet" will be renamed "Delicious" and "One day in district court" will become "A Sunday at the carnival." Raidue must delete "unresolved killings" and replace with "The Mysteries of Father Christmas." As Raiuno, is already in order. The only change will be the new broadcast Saturday night, "Carfagna, what luck!".
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Flucillin And Kidney Infections
The ocean is wonderful in a glass
Just a triviality (the inability to be present at the graduation of a friend of mine because I live a few hundred kilometers away) to make me feel helpless in the face with a reality that often I forget: I do not hundred lives would be enough to repay the other love that I received. And all I do is too little. I am a small glass on which has been poured an ocean of love. And not being able to contain more than a certain amount, because the rest is overflowing, I can only return a fraction. Maybe one day explode, and my glass walls will become warm and cozy in the bottom of the Atlantic. And then evaporate, returning to heaven that I won through meeting with people who have accompanied my journey.
Just a triviality (the inability to be present at the graduation of a friend of mine because I live a few hundred kilometers away) to make me feel helpless in the face with a reality that often I forget: I do not hundred lives would be enough to repay the other love that I received. And all I do is too little. I am a small glass on which has been poured an ocean of love. And not being able to contain more than a certain amount, because the rest is overflowing, I can only return a fraction. Maybe one day explode, and my glass walls will become warm and cozy in the bottom of the Atlantic. And then evaporate, returning to heaven that I won through meeting with people who have accompanied my journey.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Pain On Right Side Of Stomach And Peeing Alot
My novel - Day 3
Sunday 26 I started to write my novel. I entered the life of Andrea, my protagonist, while he was on a beach in India, 26 in another Sunday four years ago.
Andrea and I have known for almost three years. Since he came to my house and asked me to tell her story. I sat, and listened. I tried to understand who he was, what emotions would send me, because he had the urge to tell her life. I learned about his wife, his son, his friends, his colleagues, the city where he was born and the countries visited. We talked early in the morning, barely awake. Or in the evening during dinner. O night, in dreams. And little by little I learned to know his thoughts, his views on the world, his love for travel and tennis matches, the exceptional acumen with which he analyzes the people but also the fragility behind the sarcasm. He wanted me to write immediately, I started to tell it from beginning to end. But I explained that I am a writer, not a biographer. I could not confine to copy the story I would tell. I had to rework it, structure it, make it my own. Making a narrative through the use of magic words, what for him was real life. Andrea snorted. He did not understand. The only story that he wrote in his life was a single line. But then he understood when I explained that novels are like wine: they need to ferment, grow in the mind of a writer. They have to take air, oxygen supply experience, rise slowly.
Now the wait is over. Andrea greeted me and was back in his world (there will be a parallel world where people live?), Leaving me alone, facing the blank page, and the writing is wonderful and awful: Chapter 1. Actually I was not abandoned. It 's always next to me, in thought. And he's happy because I'm telling his story. Although no one yet knows, but before I finish writing it will spend several seasons. And I feel like a pregnant woman who has just started nine months of confinement. Inside me there is a potential child that I will have food, week after week, and grow with love and dedication. Until one day, when all parts of the child will be complete, I can finally give birth ... (hopefully in the libraries of Italy), and since then my child will no longer be only mine, but it would mean all those who want to read it. But the road is so long and so hard the way that I can now only dream of. And write to Andrew ... the man who knocked on my door one day and asked me to tell her story.
Sunday 26 I started to write my novel. I entered the life of Andrea, my protagonist, while he was on a beach in India, 26 in another Sunday four years ago.
Andrea and I have known for almost three years. Since he came to my house and asked me to tell her story. I sat, and listened. I tried to understand who he was, what emotions would send me, because he had the urge to tell her life. I learned about his wife, his son, his friends, his colleagues, the city where he was born and the countries visited. We talked early in the morning, barely awake. Or in the evening during dinner. O night, in dreams. And little by little I learned to know his thoughts, his views on the world, his love for travel and tennis matches, the exceptional acumen with which he analyzes the people but also the fragility behind the sarcasm. He wanted me to write immediately, I started to tell it from beginning to end. But I explained that I am a writer, not a biographer. I could not confine to copy the story I would tell. I had to rework it, structure it, make it my own. Making a narrative through the use of magic words, what for him was real life. Andrea snorted. He did not understand. The only story that he wrote in his life was a single line. But then he understood when I explained that novels are like wine: they need to ferment, grow in the mind of a writer. They have to take air, oxygen supply experience, rise slowly.
Now the wait is over. Andrea greeted me and was back in his world (there will be a parallel world where people live?), Leaving me alone, facing the blank page, and the writing is wonderful and awful: Chapter 1. Actually I was not abandoned. It 's always next to me, in thought. And he's happy because I'm telling his story. Although no one yet knows, but before I finish writing it will spend several seasons. And I feel like a pregnant woman who has just started nine months of confinement. Inside me there is a potential child that I will have food, week after week, and grow with love and dedication. Until one day, when all parts of the child will be complete, I can finally give birth ... (hopefully in the libraries of Italy), and since then my child will no longer be only mine, but it would mean all those who want to read it. But the road is so long and so hard the way that I can now only dream of. And write to Andrew ... the man who knocked on my door one day and asked me to tell her story.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Vídeos Da Pátty
Just a remote
Some say that television sucks (to put it mildly). And is ready to hurl the TV out the window of the house (I know who did it) claiming the right to raise their children without the means of infernal damnation!
Someone else says that it was much better before, when instead of a fool in front of the screen, you can relax reading a good book ...
Someone else yells at the junk programs, insisting that disgusted "The Island of the Famous" or "Friends" or "Big Brother" are the result of socio-cultural degeneration of our century.
pity then that the former is left with the children targeted by sociopaths classmates butt of consumer jokes because they do not know what the news Strip and have never seen a Formula 1 Grand Prix on TV, and do not know the Dr. House nor face nor Piero Angela advertising Mulino Bianco ... I
seconds instead instead of reading a good book if they are in front of the TV to look The Murder, She Wrote (as if they were forced). And the third
know every single detail of what critics: in fact are the first viewers of the programs which inveigh against.
I say that we have gone mad! I say that the truth is so obvious that even a child of four years could explain (you will be surprised dell'acume of certain children of four years, that sometimes parents are more mature in their thirties). I say that television is a way, that's all. Such as radio, cinema, print ... And each of us has the freedom to do what he wants.
If television offers programs that interest you, look at them.
If you offer them, not to look.
If you like, turn it on.
If you do not like it, keep it off.
You can look at it once a month or seven hours a day. It just depends on you. So I did not come and say that you hate a certain program. If it does not mean that the bear look. Because if it did not look at anything you would not have to bear or endure.
Once a guy said to me: "I hate the programs of the De Filippi! And you? "
And I reply:" Not me. Do not watch them, so do not know them, and I can not hate something I do not know. "The point is this. Why look at something we do not like just for the sake of criticism? Are we really that masochistic?
I watch only what I love. So I do not feel compelled nothing to hate. It 's simple, no? Just a remote control.
Sometimes I wish it were so with men. A remote control was enough to forget the people who have done something wrong. Wipe from our television programming wrongs and injuries received. Eliminate the unpleasant el'insopportabile. But then I think that if God has granted us this opportunity, it is precisely because life is not something you can turn on and off at will. And it's you decide who you will meet and who is not, and those who know us, who will love you and who does not. Every encounter is a gift that is delivered to you because you make good use of it. And any effect ports (tolerable or intolerable, pleasant or unpleasant) has the effect to make you take a step forward along the path that leads to self knowledge. If a remote control was enough to eliminate what we do not like our life, everything would be easier but also more empty. Luckily it does not.
Some say that television sucks (to put it mildly). And is ready to hurl the TV out the window of the house (I know who did it) claiming the right to raise their children without the means of infernal damnation!
Someone else says that it was much better before, when instead of a fool in front of the screen, you can relax reading a good book ...
Someone else yells at the junk programs, insisting that disgusted "The Island of the Famous" or "Friends" or "Big Brother" are the result of socio-cultural degeneration of our century.
pity then that the former is left with the children targeted by sociopaths classmates butt of consumer jokes because they do not know what the news Strip and have never seen a Formula 1 Grand Prix on TV, and do not know the Dr. House nor face nor Piero Angela advertising Mulino Bianco ... I
seconds instead instead of reading a good book if they are in front of the TV to look The Murder, She Wrote (as if they were forced). And the third
know every single detail of what critics: in fact are the first viewers of the programs which inveigh against.
I say that we have gone mad! I say that the truth is so obvious that even a child of four years could explain (you will be surprised dell'acume of certain children of four years, that sometimes parents are more mature in their thirties). I say that television is a way, that's all. Such as radio, cinema, print ... And each of us has the freedom to do what he wants.
If television offers programs that interest you, look at them.
If you offer them, not to look.
If you like, turn it on.
If you do not like it, keep it off.
You can look at it once a month or seven hours a day. It just depends on you. So I did not come and say that you hate a certain program. If it does not mean that the bear look. Because if it did not look at anything you would not have to bear or endure.
Once a guy said to me: "I hate the programs of the De Filippi! And you? "
And I reply:" Not me. Do not watch them, so do not know them, and I can not hate something I do not know. "The point is this. Why look at something we do not like just for the sake of criticism? Are we really that masochistic?
I watch only what I love. So I do not feel compelled nothing to hate. It 's simple, no? Just a remote control.
Sometimes I wish it were so with men. A remote control was enough to forget the people who have done something wrong. Wipe from our television programming wrongs and injuries received. Eliminate the unpleasant el'insopportabile. But then I think that if God has granted us this opportunity, it is precisely because life is not something you can turn on and off at will. And it's you decide who you will meet and who is not, and those who know us, who will love you and who does not. Every encounter is a gift that is delivered to you because you make good use of it. And any effect ports (tolerable or intolerable, pleasant or unpleasant) has the effect to make you take a step forward along the path that leads to self knowledge. If a remote control was enough to eliminate what we do not like our life, everything would be easier but also more empty. Luckily it does not.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Vegetable Retaining Walls
Presidents compared
"The only thing Americans have to fear is fear itself."
(Franklin Delano Roosevelt)
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. "
(John Fitzgerald Kennedy)
" We must not fear the future, because we are the future. "
(Ronald Reagan)
" The best thing about these eight-year presidency was the twenty-five pound trout I caught in the lake of my ranch. "
(George W. Bush)
"The only thing Americans have to fear is fear itself."
(Franklin Delano Roosevelt)
"Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country. "
(John Fitzgerald Kennedy)
" We must not fear the future, because we are the future. "
(Ronald Reagan)
" The best thing about these eight-year presidency was the twenty-five pound trout I caught in the lake of my ranch. "
(George W. Bush)
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Skype Not Detecting Web Cam
The Bible day and night and i-pod divine
ended yesterday morning one of the most important media experience always the reading of the Bible . The longest live broadcast in the history of television.
More than 1,200 readers of age, gender, nationalities and religions have followed the laws laid down in the Holy Cross in Jerusalem to Rome, to read (with the sun, few interruptions of sacred songs), the 46 books of the Old Testament and 27 New Testament books. A marathon lasted seven days and seven nights, inaugurated by Pope Benedict XVI with the first chapter of Genesis and closed by Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone with the last song of the Apocalypse.
Beyond what has been said and what you might say, who takes the frequency of RAI Educational has had the opportunity to switch, at any time of day or night, the television tuned to the Word of God
The Father's word, proclaimed by the different voices of several men who inhabit the Earth, been a recurring theme that has been the soundtrack to the lives of millions of people during the last week. As background music that accompanies the people while working, eating, writing, reading, sleeping and dreaming. A seamless flow. A voice whispered that never tires of telling us what we love.
Reflecting on what music accompanies our movements and our days, especially after the spread of i-pod and mp3 players, I figured that while boys jog, or walk down the street, or take the subway, with the tune their i-pod "divine" the word of God to hear, like music, looking into the eyes of the people they encounter, those that reach those who see sitting or standing, silent or screaming, smiling or pensive. And when they come home Do not remove the i-pod from his ears, but let the stream of words flow, even while eating, even while they study, even when they go to sleep. And after a while 'words matter even more, is only the voice, which speaks to the heart and not your ear, that even in sleep, when the brain goes to sleep, he continues to caress the soul. Every day, every night. Until you forget to even have the i-pod in your ears. Why is now a part of us.
If this is utopia, what would be nice happened this week, however, had awakened dormant in the hearts of men the desire to rediscover the Word. Perhaps reading the morning before going to university, or in the evening when you return from work. As a small sip of water between fatigue and the other regenerating. As heard in Beethoven's Ninth lunch break. If nothing else, this adventure television reminded us that when we wish, we can "turn on the TV Bible and listen to God (just recall the book of sacred scriptures that we hold on the shelf in the upper right corner full of dust). Without time limits. Wherever we are. Day and night.
More than 1,200 readers of age, gender, nationalities and religions have followed the laws laid down in the Holy Cross in Jerusalem to Rome, to read (with the sun, few interruptions of sacred songs), the 46 books of the Old Testament and 27 New Testament books. A marathon lasted seven days and seven nights, inaugurated by Pope Benedict XVI with the first chapter of Genesis and closed by Cardinal Tarcisio Bertone with the last song of the Apocalypse.
Beyond what has been said and what you might say, who takes the frequency of RAI Educational has had the opportunity to switch, at any time of day or night, the television tuned to the Word of God
The Father's word, proclaimed by the different voices of several men who inhabit the Earth, been a recurring theme that has been the soundtrack to the lives of millions of people during the last week. As background music that accompanies the people while working, eating, writing, reading, sleeping and dreaming. A seamless flow. A voice whispered that never tires of telling us what we love.
Reflecting on what music accompanies our movements and our days, especially after the spread of i-pod and mp3 players, I figured that while boys jog, or walk down the street, or take the subway, with the tune their i-pod "divine" the word of God to hear, like music, looking into the eyes of the people they encounter, those that reach those who see sitting or standing, silent or screaming, smiling or pensive. And when they come home Do not remove the i-pod from his ears, but let the stream of words flow, even while eating, even while they study, even when they go to sleep. And after a while 'words matter even more, is only the voice, which speaks to the heart and not your ear, that even in sleep, when the brain goes to sleep, he continues to caress the soul. Every day, every night. Until you forget to even have the i-pod in your ears. Why is now a part of us.
If this is utopia, what would be nice happened this week, however, had awakened dormant in the hearts of men the desire to rediscover the Word. Perhaps reading the morning before going to university, or in the evening when you return from work. As a small sip of water between fatigue and the other regenerating. As heard in Beethoven's Ninth lunch break. If nothing else, this adventure television reminded us that when we wish, we can "turn on the TV Bible and listen to God (just recall the book of sacred scriptures that we hold on the shelf in the upper right corner full of dust). Without time limits. Wherever we are. Day and night.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Vitamin Slow Heart Rate
Somebody Up There Blindness loves
He's gone to 83 years the great Paul Newman . Every word is superfluous. I like to remember him by listing some of the films he played magnificently during his long career, to view and review. Somebody Up There Likes Me
(1956)
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)
The Hustler (1961)
Cool Hand Luke (1967)
Butch Cassidy (1969)
The Sting (1973)
The Towering Inferno (1974)
The Verdict (1982)
The Color of Money (1986)
Perdition (2002)
That the sky will be mild, Paul ...
He's gone to 83 years the great Paul Newman . Every word is superfluous. I like to remember him by listing some of the films he played magnificently during his long career, to view and review. Somebody Up There Likes Me
(1956)
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1958)
The Hustler (1961)
Cool Hand Luke (1967)
Butch Cassidy (1969)
The Sting (1973)
The Towering Inferno (1974)
The Verdict (1982)
The Color of Money (1986)
Perdition (2002)
That the sky will be mild, Paul ...
Saturday, September 27, 2008
ჯეტ ლი
And if the blindness becomes a contagious disease?
and propagates a global epidemic within a few days?
And the government put in quarantine all blind?
And then the relatives of the blind? And friends of the blind?
As usual, giving an affirmative answer to a question surreal Jose Saramago builds a history of symbolic, metaphoric, but very realistic. Without the blood of real life but coated skin of a wild imagination. Where entomologist observation of reality and sublime flight of fantasy meet.
Blindness talks about what each of us can become in extreme circumstances. Or rather, what each of us is (also, not only but also): "In reality has yet to be born the first human being does not have a second skin that we call selfishness. "
It speaks of fear of death," What should we die, we know since birth, because, in a sense, it is as if we were born already dead. "
And even more the need to look at, talks about the need to be watched, to have our next witnesses who confirm being in the world, here and now:" We'll see less and less, even if you do not lose sight will become increasingly blind every day because I will not have anyone see me. "
As time passes, according to coordinates that are not ours, but his" E 'which controls the time, time is the companion who is playing in front of us, and holds all the cards of bunch of us we have to invent the trump cards of life, our own. "And if
" virtue is always the hardest rocks in the path of perfection "the narrator of this extraordinary novel, there are very few rocks. The writing flows, clear, tough, and our mind tries to hide somewhere, trying desperately to deny what it is. But his eyes betray us, because "we did eyes turned into a sort of mirror, with the result that, often, they show us without reservation that we were trying to deny with your mouth. "
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
How To Make Sequin Softball Headbands
How To Throw a Sunday morning in Rome (Part One)
Instructions for the consumption of tourists in the capital:
1. Deciding to make a nice boat trip along the Tiber after seeing the advertising in multiple languages \u200b\u200bpresent on the monitor of the Metro.
2. Connecting to the Internet and access the appropriate site to check the availability of vessels.
3. Read following information:
service hours: October to May from 7.30 to 20.00, from June to September from 7.30 to 24.00; interruption of service: 13.30 -15.30. A departure every 20 minutes.
4. Print out the details of the site and follow to the letter. So ...
5. Take the Metro Line A towards Battistini.
6. Stop at Ottaviano. Get off. Look for the bus stop 32. See the 32 bus going under the nose and not have time to climb.
7. Wait for the next bus in 32 feet (no bench nearby) for twenty minutes and thirty seconds.
8. Take bus 32 towards Tor di Quinto and get off at De Bosis / Tennis Stadium.
9. Down the stairs leading to the quay of the Tiber. Arrive at the point of departure of the vessel indicated on the site. See that there is none. Find a small group of people waiting for the boat. In vain.
10. Get information to people already there. Answers: "The boat is not there!" "Nun if you see anyone!" Stam here for half an hour! "And mo 'Famo that?"
11. Find a sleazy piece of paper attached to a sign that read: "This service is temporarily suspended."
12. Ask the owner of the restaurant on the pier if the service is actually suspended. Feel answer: "You do as he pleases. Yesterday, the boat has not gone to 10, but rose at noon. Today no one knows. Perhaps it goes, maybe not. It 'a surprise! "
13. Call the number indicated on the package to request information. Be told by the young lady: "We do not know anything. The boat may pass or not pass. I do not know what to say. "
14. Wait another 10 minutes. In vain. Still watching the ducks that splash on the Tiber. Resuming the way back to Metro.
Copyright © CREATIVE SOLUTIONS LTD
Instructions for the consumption of tourists in the capital:
1. Deciding to make a nice boat trip along the Tiber after seeing the advertising in multiple languages \u200b\u200bpresent on the monitor of the Metro.
2. Connecting to the Internet and access the appropriate site to check the availability of vessels.
3. Read following information:
service hours: October to May from 7.30 to 20.00, from June to September from 7.30 to 24.00; interruption of service: 13.30 -15.30. A departure every 20 minutes.
4. Print out the details of the site and follow to the letter. So ...
5. Take the Metro Line A towards Battistini.
6. Stop at Ottaviano. Get off. Look for the bus stop 32. See the 32 bus going under the nose and not have time to climb.
7. Wait for the next bus in 32 feet (no bench nearby) for twenty minutes and thirty seconds.
8. Take bus 32 towards Tor di Quinto and get off at De Bosis / Tennis Stadium.
9. Down the stairs leading to the quay of the Tiber. Arrive at the point of departure of the vessel indicated on the site. See that there is none. Find a small group of people waiting for the boat. In vain.
10. Get information to people already there. Answers: "The boat is not there!" "Nun if you see anyone!" Stam here for half an hour! "And mo 'Famo that?"
11. Find a sleazy piece of paper attached to a sign that read: "This service is temporarily suspended."
12. Ask the owner of the restaurant on the pier if the service is actually suspended. Feel answer: "You do as he pleases. Yesterday, the boat has not gone to 10, but rose at noon. Today no one knows. Perhaps it goes, maybe not. It 'a surprise! "
13. Call the number indicated on the package to request information. Be told by the young lady: "We do not know anything. The boat may pass or not pass. I do not know what to say. "
14. Wait another 10 minutes. In vain. Still watching the ducks that splash on the Tiber. Resuming the way back to Metro.
Copyright © CREATIVE SOLUTIONS LTD
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Keratoconus Treatment Intacs Price
The autograph of David Foster Wallace impossible
Start now by telling you I'm going to talk about a dead man. I use this term lightly because they are apparently convinced that death is neither more nor less than an invention of penicillin. David Foster Wallace is dead, so to speak, he just decided to go elsewhere, leaving this life that evidently felt unbearable and run away, far away. I agree with the fact that there are different ways to leave. He did not do it by saving the lives of three children who were drowning in the Thames. He did so by hanging herself at age 46 at his home in Los Angeles. This is not to judge him, but admits that among the options he chose one of the most sad. If you still do not understand why I'm talking about this guy who killed himself and not the hundreds of others who do it every day, because you do not know who David Foster Wallace (I use this on purpose). Simple: one of the greatest contemporary American writers. Then the fact that I like to or not is another matter. The point is that DFW can no longer write books, or if he will write them for the angels of heaven, and for us ordinary readers of this fourth-rate pianetucolo. And most importantly, can no longer sign autographs. What has this to do now? A factor, because the story I'm about to tell is so gruesome (a posteriori) as true.
Let's step back: as a victim of "SCLO" (compulsive syndrome omnivorous reader), I buy more books than those that arrive later to read. Ergo: finished reading a book to another step, it is ready finished third, and so on, in an infinite spiral, because I read every book I buy two, and so on ... While it is methodical, I do not have a predefined list of the books I read. No steps, no strings attached. So it happens that finished a Eliade way to a lighter Connelly, then I throw up after I drink Jack and Pirandello, and then eat a McEwan between Saramago and Veronesi. I'm going to nose, depending on what inspires me at the moment.
And so I chose a week ago, starting to read "Do not Throw Down" by Nick Hornby. For those who have not realized is a book about suicide. Or rather, four would-be suicides gather on a rooftop and jump down instead of starting to speak, until it passes the desire to jump (assuming they ever had the courage to do so). Well, finished reading the novel, I had to choose one's neighbor. I do not know why, but after fierce heats which saw illustrious victims (Follett, Tomasi di Lampedusa, Svevo) remain undecided between the two titles, which will compete for the role of "the next book to read." The two titles are:
Small suicide among friends, Arto Paasilinna
Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
does not matter to determine which book I chose. Does it matter to know why, among the hundreds of books available, I chose one that talks about suicide, and one written by a suicide (of course when I did not know that those same hours in DFW had decided to hang himself, but this does not change anything) . If you are quite shocked you have not heard this: in those days I start writing a story. Guess what 'theme: the suicide of a famous person. Now brace yourselves. The story I have titled the autograph of David Wallace. The beauty is that while I thought of a name for my character commits suicide, I instinctively came to mind this. It sounded good, I do not know why. And I was not even touched on the idea that just add a banal Foster to have the name of a famous American writer. At that moment I remembered I miss the existence of DFW. For the record, at the end of my story, the character is saved by a taxi driver that prevents him from committing suicide to allow his wife to continue watching the TV program that leads to (and could no longer conduct if he had committed suicide). DFW but was not saved by any driver. Of course it was difficult, having been killed in the house. Maybe if I decided to go and throw off a bridge ... Done is there is to go to the asylum. Obviously I do not believe in coincidences. Equally obviously do not know if this story makes sense. All I know is that all this makes me feel closer to David, wherever it is at this time. And it is strange to open the pages of his book and read his words knowing that they are the words of a dead man. And it is strange reading my story and think that David (Foster) Wallace can no longer sign autographs.
Jose Saramago writes: "A writer comes to have patience in life where it's needed to write." Well, perhaps DFW did not have this patience. The patience to look into the quagmire of life invisible to cling to the branch when the last illusion of happiness seemed to have dissolved.
Start now by telling you I'm going to talk about a dead man. I use this term lightly because they are apparently convinced that death is neither more nor less than an invention of penicillin. David Foster Wallace is dead, so to speak, he just decided to go elsewhere, leaving this life that evidently felt unbearable and run away, far away. I agree with the fact that there are different ways to leave. He did not do it by saving the lives of three children who were drowning in the Thames. He did so by hanging herself at age 46 at his home in Los Angeles. This is not to judge him, but admits that among the options he chose one of the most sad. If you still do not understand why I'm talking about this guy who killed himself and not the hundreds of others who do it every day, because you do not know who David Foster Wallace (I use this on purpose). Simple: one of the greatest contemporary American writers. Then the fact that I like to or not is another matter. The point is that DFW can no longer write books, or if he will write them for the angels of heaven, and for us ordinary readers of this fourth-rate pianetucolo. And most importantly, can no longer sign autographs. What has this to do now? A factor, because the story I'm about to tell is so gruesome (a posteriori) as true.
Let's step back: as a victim of "SCLO" (compulsive syndrome omnivorous reader), I buy more books than those that arrive later to read. Ergo: finished reading a book to another step, it is ready finished third, and so on, in an infinite spiral, because I read every book I buy two, and so on ... While it is methodical, I do not have a predefined list of the books I read. No steps, no strings attached. So it happens that finished a Eliade way to a lighter Connelly, then I throw up after I drink Jack and Pirandello, and then eat a McEwan between Saramago and Veronesi. I'm going to nose, depending on what inspires me at the moment.
And so I chose a week ago, starting to read "Do not Throw Down" by Nick Hornby. For those who have not realized is a book about suicide. Or rather, four would-be suicides gather on a rooftop and jump down instead of starting to speak, until it passes the desire to jump (assuming they ever had the courage to do so). Well, finished reading the novel, I had to choose one's neighbor. I do not know why, but after fierce heats which saw illustrious victims (Follett, Tomasi di Lampedusa, Svevo) remain undecided between the two titles, which will compete for the role of "the next book to read." The two titles are:
Small suicide among friends, Arto Paasilinna
Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallace
does not matter to determine which book I chose. Does it matter to know why, among the hundreds of books available, I chose one that talks about suicide, and one written by a suicide (of course when I did not know that those same hours in DFW had decided to hang himself, but this does not change anything) . If you are quite shocked you have not heard this: in those days I start writing a story. Guess what 'theme: the suicide of a famous person. Now brace yourselves. The story I have titled the autograph of David Wallace. The beauty is that while I thought of a name for my character commits suicide, I instinctively came to mind this. It sounded good, I do not know why. And I was not even touched on the idea that just add a banal Foster to have the name of a famous American writer. At that moment I remembered I miss the existence of DFW. For the record, at the end of my story, the character is saved by a taxi driver that prevents him from committing suicide to allow his wife to continue watching the TV program that leads to (and could no longer conduct if he had committed suicide). DFW but was not saved by any driver. Of course it was difficult, having been killed in the house. Maybe if I decided to go and throw off a bridge ... Done is there is to go to the asylum. Obviously I do not believe in coincidences. Equally obviously do not know if this story makes sense. All I know is that all this makes me feel closer to David, wherever it is at this time. And it is strange to open the pages of his book and read his words knowing that they are the words of a dead man. And it is strange reading my story and think that David (Foster) Wallace can no longer sign autographs.
Jose Saramago writes: "A writer comes to have patience in life where it's needed to write." Well, perhaps DFW did not have this patience. The patience to look into the quagmire of life invisible to cling to the branch when the last illusion of happiness seemed to have dissolved.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Maha Powerex Mh C9000
Letter to Michael Crichton
Dear Michael,
I just read your book "State of Fear . Now, I like to go straight to the point. Therefore, no pleasantries, I tell you now: but what the hell did you get?
I mean, I do not discuss the fascinating thesis suggest that in the novel: the catastrophe that exists around the topic "global warming" does not correspond to what is the reality. The man is less responsible than you think about the changes taking place. Behind the alarmist and easy criers of the newspapers on climate change note there is a complex strategy that has a specific purpose, to make us live in fear. All very interesting.
So what's the problem?
The problem is that the data you've collected and show, setting out the arguments, the arguments that lead, they went very well for an essay. But you, being a storyteller, you've transplanted into a novel. All right, you say, except that the novel is written really badly. I do not quote even the word literature, because of that there is no trace, but here are the parts of the narrative from discounters. Steps for the confusing plot, in which the characters (too many) to move from one continent to another, and after only 30 pages is not understands more than a club. Steps for brief descriptions of places (to Dan Brown). Steps for the plot far-fetched to say the least touched by catastrophe. Well as the usual steps for 583 (!) Pages, we know that the summary is not one of your gifts. But the style, depth, lightness, where are they? Characters dishes that you forget the names and does not inspire any identification. Twists that follow so close to cancel each other out. Hackneyed phrases as much as I just used the expression (note the phrase "hackneyed phrases" is a hackneyed phrase). Trivia on an industrial scale. And in the end what is left? The thesis, only the thesis. Note: not the plot, not the characters, not the writing ... but the message. And the message was enough to deliver a paper. Instead you have entered the essay into a loaf and indigestible unlikely to bad fiction. Mind you, nothing worse than any best seller that are cloned to 6 euro in a supermarket in Miami, but well below your reputation.
As one character I do not know what story: "Sorry if I tell you these things, but I'd say if you do not love you." It 's still worth the trouble to read your novel, because he says things interesting even if he says bad . Perhaps it is always preferable to a good idea enunciated by a stutter rather than a bad idea proclaimed by a rhetorician. But the reader demanding in me felt the need to vent, and exaggerations of its vent are due to too much love for literature. I hope you do not take too much, we feel when I read your next novel.
Dear Michael,
I just read your book "State of Fear . Now, I like to go straight to the point. Therefore, no pleasantries, I tell you now: but what the hell did you get?
I mean, I do not discuss the fascinating thesis suggest that in the novel: the catastrophe that exists around the topic "global warming" does not correspond to what is the reality. The man is less responsible than you think about the changes taking place. Behind the alarmist and easy criers of the newspapers on climate change note there is a complex strategy that has a specific purpose, to make us live in fear. All very interesting.
So what's the problem?
The problem is that the data you've collected and show, setting out the arguments, the arguments that lead, they went very well for an essay. But you, being a storyteller, you've transplanted into a novel. All right, you say, except that the novel is written really badly. I do not quote even the word literature, because of that there is no trace, but here are the parts of the narrative from discounters. Steps for the confusing plot, in which the characters (too many) to move from one continent to another, and after only 30 pages is not understands more than a club. Steps for brief descriptions of places (to Dan Brown). Steps for the plot far-fetched to say the least touched by catastrophe. Well as the usual steps for 583 (!) Pages, we know that the summary is not one of your gifts. But the style, depth, lightness, where are they? Characters dishes that you forget the names and does not inspire any identification. Twists that follow so close to cancel each other out. Hackneyed phrases as much as I just used the expression (note the phrase "hackneyed phrases" is a hackneyed phrase). Trivia on an industrial scale. And in the end what is left? The thesis, only the thesis. Note: not the plot, not the characters, not the writing ... but the message. And the message was enough to deliver a paper. Instead you have entered the essay into a loaf and indigestible unlikely to bad fiction. Mind you, nothing worse than any best seller that are cloned to 6 euro in a supermarket in Miami, but well below your reputation.
As one character I do not know what story: "Sorry if I tell you these things, but I'd say if you do not love you." It 's still worth the trouble to read your novel, because he says things interesting even if he says bad . Perhaps it is always preferable to a good idea enunciated by a stutter rather than a bad idea proclaimed by a rhetorician. But the reader demanding in me felt the need to vent, and exaggerations of its vent are due to too much love for literature. I hope you do not take too much, we feel when I read your next novel.
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