JUST PASS! Free the ultras, all free!
The failure of the decree Maroni is in everyone's eyes. Every Sunday
stages more empty, curves less colorful, confusion in the fields "mixed" and repression. What began as a catalog of mass to counter the 'violence', is revealing for what it is: a deal for the banks and the death of his passion for football as we know it.
We're getting used to living with bans. Prohibition of unauthorized wearing flags, banners, torches and smoke bombs. Ban on travel. Now follow their team has become more difficult for the lottery.
In addition, the proposal to extend the provision of formal notice (DASP) to the demonstrators also shows that we were right when we said "Today's ultras tomorrow tutta la città”. Stanno restringendo paurosamente i nostri diritti di cittadinanza. Ci vogliono muti e obbedienti. Allo stadio come nelle strade. Ci vogliono a casa, davanti alla tv, e per questo limitano i nostri movimenti, la nostra voglia di aggregazione, la socialità, le nostre passioni.
Ma non è ancora troppo tardi. Abbiamo ancora tanto da dire. E dobbiamo farlo in fretta.
La libertà non riguarda solo gli ultras. Riguarda tutti.
Facciamoci sentire.
No alla Tessera del tifoso!
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Throat Had To Be Drained
Thought of the evening at members, freedom of choice and set things
Vittime e fautori di un frainteso senso d’esasperata libertà, i tesserati si trincerano dietro una presunta Scelta (con la maiuscola) to invoke an impalpable respect for the opinions of all.
The card becomes in their eyes - or with their eyes trying to make it become - a bastion of relativism. There is what is right and what is wrong, there is a single, with its reasoned decisions, and there is a context, personal and social, that door, hurries, ratifies decisions.
Every life has taken its course. Each course must be respected.
this is strange and original way of thinking, of approaching the topic.
if only because the choice is between the myths, one of the fakes.
The merchant is not free to live it out his shop by the market, not the winemaker is free to be produced its wine, the poor smoker is not free to buy two packages of Lucky Strike day. Discuss freedom, choice and opportunity, is one way to do academy. To waste time. Needless to bang his head.
The only freedom shines in denial. In conscious rejection that borders on the brink. Acceptance of the consequences of a "no". Other
that. A
Mirafiori blackmail, indispensable feature of our society and discriminating, it was much more full-bodied. At stake was the survival. Of their work, their families, their beliefs. The "yes" to the noose wielded by Marchionne - is the common opinion - it was not the depositary of a bit of freedom. In interviews, workers bent repeated: "There is no choice." Like a chant, who had depersonalized. Consent before a blackmail is not freedom, but its opposite. And yet, 48% of blue collar workers has declined. He rejected the proposal of the offensive manager of Fiat, and has recovered his dignity, denying - in fact - to barter with a job.
"Think of the serious facts," he called out for months, those who do not understand our rant against the decree Maroni and his charges.
And they are right. On a scale of values, in a similar precarious scenario of flame, our verbal intemperance on the issue must seem quite modest. Even irritating.
But man, you know, is never as serious as when he plays.
And if you want to understand a man, you have to see how it plays. How much passion invested in a simple bowling tournament, as heedless of the risk to endanger his ankle in a challenge between unmarried and married, as much determination as he ran from fifty five, the city marathon. The game is the indicator of human character.
advisers not ever to my daughter in a field that is not willing to lose anything. For whoever is not able to get involved seriously in life "serious" will do the same. Raising a potenza la propria viltà, il proprio narcisismo vuoto, il proprio terzismo indifferente.
In altri termini: se sei corso a farti la Tessera di Maroni, sei un essere talmente poco etico che a Mirafiori non solo avresti votato come Marchionne, ma gli avresti fatto la campagna elettorale; e nella mia vita non voglio gente come te accanto.
Vittime e fautori di un frainteso senso d’esasperata libertà, i tesserati si trincerano dietro una presunta Scelta (con la maiuscola) to invoke an impalpable respect for the opinions of all.
The card becomes in their eyes - or with their eyes trying to make it become - a bastion of relativism. There is what is right and what is wrong, there is a single, with its reasoned decisions, and there is a context, personal and social, that door, hurries, ratifies decisions.
Every life has taken its course. Each course must be respected.
this is strange and original way of thinking, of approaching the topic.
if only because the choice is between the myths, one of the fakes.
The merchant is not free to live it out his shop by the market, not the winemaker is free to be produced its wine, the poor smoker is not free to buy two packages of Lucky Strike day. Discuss freedom, choice and opportunity, is one way to do academy. To waste time. Needless to bang his head.
The only freedom shines in denial. In conscious rejection that borders on the brink. Acceptance of the consequences of a "no". Other
that. A
Mirafiori blackmail, indispensable feature of our society and discriminating, it was much more full-bodied. At stake was the survival. Of their work, their families, their beliefs. The "yes" to the noose wielded by Marchionne - is the common opinion - it was not the depositary of a bit of freedom. In interviews, workers bent repeated: "There is no choice." Like a chant, who had depersonalized. Consent before a blackmail is not freedom, but its opposite. And yet, 48% of blue collar workers has declined. He rejected the proposal of the offensive manager of Fiat, and has recovered his dignity, denying - in fact - to barter with a job.
"Think of the serious facts," he called out for months, those who do not understand our rant against the decree Maroni and his charges.
And they are right. On a scale of values, in a similar precarious scenario of flame, our verbal intemperance on the issue must seem quite modest. Even irritating.
But man, you know, is never as serious as when he plays.
And if you want to understand a man, you have to see how it plays. How much passion invested in a simple bowling tournament, as heedless of the risk to endanger his ankle in a challenge between unmarried and married, as much determination as he ran from fifty five, the city marathon. The game is the indicator of human character.
advisers not ever to my daughter in a field that is not willing to lose anything. For whoever is not able to get involved seriously in life "serious" will do the same. Raising a potenza la propria viltà, il proprio narcisismo vuoto, il proprio terzismo indifferente.
In altri termini: se sei corso a farti la Tessera di Maroni, sei un essere talmente poco etico che a Mirafiori non solo avresti votato come Marchionne, ma gli avresti fatto la campagna elettorale; e nella mia vita non voglio gente come te accanto.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Find A Combination To A Casehard Lock
Runaway reactions ...
from facebook:
Fabio March
Ruby maiden: "I was raped by two of my uncles at the age of nine years." Sometimes families are able to immediately recognize the potential of children.
from facebook:
Fabio March
Ruby maiden: "I was raped by two of my uncles at the age of nine years." Sometimes families are able to immediately recognize the potential of children.
Liturgical Dance Clothes For A Wedding
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Monday, January 17, 2011
Heart Attack Get Well
... everything changes but you!
you ever expect a phone call that you know will not come? Yes, I understood, but expect it anyway. Are they waiting for the machine rings. Usually not just part of the ring puffs. 'This time, instead savor ... the first ring you're stuck and you do not have the courage to watch the display. On the second you get up from the couch with ease and feign disinterest. At the third watch the phone and finally you realize that it is not expecting the call. But it's too late. Answer and short cuts trying not to leak the disappointment. So much is just the latest disappointment in a long line. But you never know if it was to disappoint those who would call you ... or yourself. Patience. You do not die so little ... you do not live even for a phone call. Everything changes ... except you.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
I Need Printable Cards For My Mom
Envy and antibiotics
Domenica 9 gennaio, Lucchese-Foggia 4-2
Mal di schiena dorsale. L’Oki, mi dicono, è blando. Troppo blando. Così un paio di Peroni non aggiungono niente. E niente tolgono. All’inefficacia. “Prova col Brufen, che è più adatto”. Butto giù la compressa e lascio perdere il vino di produzione. Alle 14,30 the total of the "Porta Elisa" di Lucca appears on the screens of satellite channel free. The curve on the right is one of the members. The industry guests. I see them. And dream. A journey in my tormented psyche. I watch them and I think that at any moment someone enters the door with a graceful bottle of Lagavulin and Laphroaig or joyful strillonerà: "Whiskey for all Scottish." And I, I took the Brufen, I'll have to skirt the issue, stand aside while the others eat again. For them or what the wine from € 2 per liter are equal. An existential nightmare. Because that's how I feel when I look at those thirty flags and their meager desert in that area. A forced the Cayenne. Then there's sausages, grilled eggplant, that even today we turn to the barbecue. As if nothing had happened by now. And the gaze glides on the plates occasionally to get up on the screen. The Lucchese attacks in that area. And I can only wonder why they are so frayed. In groups of two, three at most, strictly separated from each other, as if every micro-community had the halo around the spot of AIDS. Staggered, so that we could distinguish the individual components of the cars parked outside. An absurd question comes over me, and it seems more important than Foggia takes one to zero, draw, take the second and missed the penalty. But why non fanno amicizia? Sono seimila e passa i tesserati al plebiscito pro-Zeman di questa città. Dopo Pisa, Nocera e Castellammare, oramai si è capito che solo quei 25-30 hanno tenuto fede al mottetto estivo del Mi tessero perché voglio seguire il Foggia anche in trasferta . Ma non sarebbe il caso, per loro, di rompere il ghiaccio, la reciproca timidezza, e fare il primo passo? Il calcio è aggregazione. E questi mi sembrano degli scolaretti alle prese con le prime feste in maschera, quando tutti i maschietti di schierano di schiena ad una parete e tutte le femminucce nel cantone opposto del soggiorno. Che le mamme di costoro raccomandino ai figli di non dare confidenza agli sconosciuti? Che siano tutti lungodegenti fuggiti dal reparto di Infectious diseases of the Reunited? That would otherwise not all that it does not take to socialize. Then he realized: they watch the game. For them, the neighbor is optional. A tinsel fungible, that is or is not does not make that everyone is different. I wonder, but I would never have done even 15 km apart from the company, its travel and the thought of the mess will be in the stands? Absolutely not, I answer in a moment. And I come back to crush the lemon over the meat, while the third collects Foggia, is the second, take the fourth and lost.
We are different, but to know that there was no need to arrive at the second half of the season. It is not absurd hierarchy, who is or who meno tifoso, di chi soffre più e di chi soffre meno. E neppure mi va di tirare fuori dal cassetto quell’abusato termine che è Ultras, per dire tutto e non dire niente. Qui si tratta di tristezza. Perché a me quelli lì sopra mi fanno tristezza. E rabbia. E invidia, come i bevitori di whiskey dei miei incubi antibiotici ed antinfiammatori. Sarà che ci siamo assuefatti: tra un paio di giorni si degneranno di comunicarci che anche a Foligno non potremo andarci, e ci guarderemo in faccia con lo stesso stupore senza fine, ma senza ancora deciderci a mandare tutti a quel paese. Quelli che hanno svuotato gli stadi e quelli che limitano ai residenti l’acquisto dei tagliandi; quelli che giocano alle 12:30 e quelli che si sono resi irrimediabilmente accomplices of the great deception of security in exchange for freedom. Yet we talked about it last night, once again through the photos from the past. We talked about it with friends. We were asked for the card, of course, but also the mechanism of Daspi. And read on their faces the same awe amplified, gave me a strange thrill: it's weird to talk about themselves as a WWF panda or a guinea pig. So accustomed to this that they have forgotten even the monstrosity of the original decree Maroni. But today I feel positive. Change, we will probably change is already happening, as when beneath the surface of the planet is designing its metamorphosis. Why am I parading before the winter and spring images, in the van piazze di paese, i bar, i parcheggi per gli ospiti, gli autogrill. E mi rifiuto, con l’ostinazione di chi combatte l’evidenza e la ragione, di credere che la mia passione sia definitivamente delegata a quei trenta tristi elementi. E alle loro sciapite bandiere. Che mi fanno rabbia ed invidia. Anche se l’invidia non è di quelle che potranno mai spingermi a fare cambio.
Domenica 9 gennaio, Lucchese-Foggia 4-2
Mal di schiena dorsale. L’Oki, mi dicono, è blando. Troppo blando. Così un paio di Peroni non aggiungono niente. E niente tolgono. All’inefficacia. “Prova col Brufen, che è più adatto”. Butto giù la compressa e lascio perdere il vino di produzione. Alle 14,30 the total of the "Porta Elisa" di Lucca appears on the screens of satellite channel free. The curve on the right is one of the members. The industry guests. I see them. And dream. A journey in my tormented psyche. I watch them and I think that at any moment someone enters the door with a graceful bottle of Lagavulin and Laphroaig or joyful strillonerà: "Whiskey for all Scottish." And I, I took the Brufen, I'll have to skirt the issue, stand aside while the others eat again. For them or what the wine from € 2 per liter are equal. An existential nightmare. Because that's how I feel when I look at those thirty flags and their meager desert in that area. A forced the Cayenne. Then there's sausages, grilled eggplant, that even today we turn to the barbecue. As if nothing had happened by now. And the gaze glides on the plates occasionally to get up on the screen. The Lucchese attacks in that area. And I can only wonder why they are so frayed. In groups of two, three at most, strictly separated from each other, as if every micro-community had the halo around the spot of AIDS. Staggered, so that we could distinguish the individual components of the cars parked outside. An absurd question comes over me, and it seems more important than Foggia takes one to zero, draw, take the second and missed the penalty. But why non fanno amicizia? Sono seimila e passa i tesserati al plebiscito pro-Zeman di questa città. Dopo Pisa, Nocera e Castellammare, oramai si è capito che solo quei 25-30 hanno tenuto fede al mottetto estivo del Mi tessero perché voglio seguire il Foggia anche in trasferta . Ma non sarebbe il caso, per loro, di rompere il ghiaccio, la reciproca timidezza, e fare il primo passo? Il calcio è aggregazione. E questi mi sembrano degli scolaretti alle prese con le prime feste in maschera, quando tutti i maschietti di schierano di schiena ad una parete e tutte le femminucce nel cantone opposto del soggiorno. Che le mamme di costoro raccomandino ai figli di non dare confidenza agli sconosciuti? Che siano tutti lungodegenti fuggiti dal reparto di Infectious diseases of the Reunited? That would otherwise not all that it does not take to socialize. Then he realized: they watch the game. For them, the neighbor is optional. A tinsel fungible, that is or is not does not make that everyone is different. I wonder, but I would never have done even 15 km apart from the company, its travel and the thought of the mess will be in the stands? Absolutely not, I answer in a moment. And I come back to crush the lemon over the meat, while the third collects Foggia, is the second, take the fourth and lost.
We are different, but to know that there was no need to arrive at the second half of the season. It is not absurd hierarchy, who is or who meno tifoso, di chi soffre più e di chi soffre meno. E neppure mi va di tirare fuori dal cassetto quell’abusato termine che è Ultras, per dire tutto e non dire niente. Qui si tratta di tristezza. Perché a me quelli lì sopra mi fanno tristezza. E rabbia. E invidia, come i bevitori di whiskey dei miei incubi antibiotici ed antinfiammatori. Sarà che ci siamo assuefatti: tra un paio di giorni si degneranno di comunicarci che anche a Foligno non potremo andarci, e ci guarderemo in faccia con lo stesso stupore senza fine, ma senza ancora deciderci a mandare tutti a quel paese. Quelli che hanno svuotato gli stadi e quelli che limitano ai residenti l’acquisto dei tagliandi; quelli che giocano alle 12:30 e quelli che si sono resi irrimediabilmente accomplices of the great deception of security in exchange for freedom. Yet we talked about it last night, once again through the photos from the past. We talked about it with friends. We were asked for the card, of course, but also the mechanism of Daspi. And read on their faces the same awe amplified, gave me a strange thrill: it's weird to talk about themselves as a WWF panda or a guinea pig. So accustomed to this that they have forgotten even the monstrosity of the original decree Maroni. But today I feel positive. Change, we will probably change is already happening, as when beneath the surface of the planet is designing its metamorphosis. Why am I parading before the winter and spring images, in the van piazze di paese, i bar, i parcheggi per gli ospiti, gli autogrill. E mi rifiuto, con l’ostinazione di chi combatte l’evidenza e la ragione, di credere che la mia passione sia definitivamente delegata a quei trenta tristi elementi. E alle loro sciapite bandiere. Che mi fanno rabbia ed invidia. Anche se l’invidia non è di quelle che potranno mai spingermi a fare cambio.
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