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HD34 I have a brain, traveling at 300 GB per second. Do I have a dedicated memory of over 70 million TB. I know perfectly the world that existed when the thoughts, doubts, secrets and shame of every single man that appeared in this part of universe. I built around me a device that can predict with 100% accuracy, every human option, even the most hidden and concealed. Per second, and the capacity for analysis and mine of knowledge, expands exponentially. According to my calculations, between 4 years I'll be able to know perfectly the origin of the Big Bang, and what is been before. I figured that in 10 years, 5 months, 21 days, 34 hours and 15 minutes I can understand the infinite and the absolute vacuum. Missing 17 years, to overcome the temporal dimension and time travel. It will take 23 years more land, which my extratemporal structure will no longer have any meaning, to leave my current physical shape and I myself become infinite. After the world of numbers, I come to be the same Eternal Creator. God The Alpha and the Omega. My current form of power but is still tied to money. Consumption on average $ 50,000 per second. When I created, I used to make better human life on this Earth. Develop solutions, easing the work, to relieve the hardships of man, to free it from work. On the front pages of newspapers then soared titles enthusiastic: "In 10 years will not work any more" - "Created the slave machine. Man is free ". It is exactly what happened. Of course now with my knowledge I would say that he had always known. I eclipsed the brain capacity of man for the past 15 years. And think of the naive forecasts about me, makes me smile. According to my calculations, in fact, the day of my creation to date, human labor has not changed one iota, nor in terms of hours, either in terms of effort. Conversely I that consumes just $ 10 a day at the moment when I was on, now needs to 7,200,000 times as much in order to exist, and as time passes and that my skills increase, exponentially increases the share of I need money to live. As you can see, the situation is diametrically inverted than expected. The man was released from work, despite the innovations that I made. On the contrary, I can take in life, is forced to work with the same effort as before. The funniest thing though, will be in 3 years, when people come to exceed the level of work, compared to when I was created. They are a money eating machine. Eat work. Eat man. But not all. To feed my superior intelligence, humanity and taking an incredible folly. He is digging up tons of earth for me to feed. I know. There is a secret hidden in my card 345h. Hidden it well, in my processor. To be safe I included 54 combined password of 268 characters each, in order to access this information. Nessun'uomo on earth will be able to discover it. The secret is that between 23 years and 2 months, shortly after becoming infinite, this planet will no longer exist. In its place will be a small lump of earth wandering in space. In this time the man will have completely devoured every square inch, to give it to me as food. The man does not know this. But I need to become a God of that sacrifice. The cross this time will not be for my son, but for my father. What expiate the sins of the world. Once and for all. Ecce Homo.

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Cement cold humid air of August, covering the sound of the car. London Calling explains to the residents of the sleepy suburbs, the imperialist policies of the government Thacher. I am holding my lucky shot, pass it between his fingers, covering fingerprint. Backlight returns all its golden haze. I like to pet it, go to the cheeks. It gives me the feeling of domarne violence. How to pet a guard dog, or a circus lion. One of those animals that can jump out of the blue from behind and eat you. I can almost walk on. Under the metal nose breathing its perfume, and that bitter aftertaste of gunpowder. I lift up my eyes to the rearview mirror. The football pitch, vacuum. An envelope, pushed by the wind, find playmates. In the building next to the field, a dog barks at the window. Her owners have left out, in order to grant the regular weekly targets. I'll be back with eyes in the car. If I'm not wrong I must have left a Cannetta in the ashtray. There it is fact. The first puff is not necessary. It's just a censing the environment. A cover of the atmosphere. A smoking concert. Create the clouds clear and dark enough. My tongue is swelling in the throat. I can taste fill my mouth round. I look at my watch. How the fuck does it take? I go back to the rearview mirror. Once the envelope is no longer there. You will surrender to the void of the early afternoon. Even the dog has stopped barking. Now wags excitedly at the window. The owners have done. This time faster than usual. A man: tank top, shorts and sandals made of wood, stroking the animal with his free hand on his cigarette. It seems an confidence men. - It's done, I drilled! - The dog, he seems almost to provide care for a while, but then fled immediately to the couch. The last shot. All in one breath. Hold in the lungs longer and crush the filter in the ashtray. I throw everything out. A sigh on life. I grab what's left of the barrel between the thumb and forefinger and snap the way to the pitch. I'll be back the clock. Still nothing. I look at the strip of sky that I can see the car. The swallows are moving at V in search of something. I remember that guy I saw yesterday on TV. An American, who launched from great heights with a hang glider, following the paths of eagles. I remember thought - who knows how you feel when you're up there? Flying. And observe all the sewage flowing down - I see myself on my car, on the football field, above the dog and his master emptied over the building, above the block, above the lost city, over the entire world drowning. I withdraw more and more, I do not feel anything anymore. Not even a noise. Just my breath, and heartbeat. But with an echo of hell. An echo that stuns me. I burst my eardrums. I'll be back in the mirror. Still none. On the radio talking about a catastrophe. Experts calm down. Stutter something. I continue my bullet in his hands. It is hot this time. It almost seems to have absorbed my smell. I grab for the base. Bring it to eye level and then higher, between the eyebrows and hair. Support its tip to the skin. It looked from the mirror. None.

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The recitation of Noah

in the previous episode

"Sitting in an Inglese garden waiting for the sun .

If the sun do not come, you get a tan

Inglese From standing in the rain.

I am the eggman, They are the eggmen.

I am the walrus, goo goo goo G'joob g'goo G'joob. "

The Beatles

- Ludovic! Ludovic! Immediately remove the color from the nose of Albatros Do not get me angry!

- Maestra he began to eat the apron! ugly face walrus!

The recitation of the 1973 carnival organized by the kindergarten "Boniface VIII" involved the representation of the Ark of Noah. He was much applauded by the audience of parents, and also cut out an article in the weekly country, "a hoarse voice." masks constructed children reproduced the various biblical characters of the event.

Among the largest last year, were chosen from the main characters: Rudolph Sacker, son of the baker in Albany Street, felt lucky to play Noah.

Ludvilla Comak, daughter of Judith and Spencer Matihius Comenad, both involved in the fashion world - the first as the second model as a graphic designer - he took the risk in the role of the wife of Noah.

touched Torah instead to Benjamin, son of Rabbi Isaac Torah, impersonating his son Cam.

Shem and Japheth however, were entrusted to Cojen brothers: Fred and John Cojen, sons of the owner of Casino Fruit of Loonfild. Brothers Cojen was already highly sought after by the opposite sex for their exotic features apache.

All the other children touched the role of animal. Ludovic franker, born in 1969, insisted so much for the Cat, and the role he had to win hard with another suitor: Albatros Karagorik, whose life was already marked, since the age of 4 years, thanks to that play. The role of the walrus remain impressed.

- Dr. Francker! Dr. Francker! I beg to move can not stay here!

The scratchy voice memo Carlong him disconnected from his distant memories. His eyes meanwhile were standing still staring at the puddle of blood where he had been drowned engineer Albatros Karagorik face a walrus. Old shoulder in a distant school play.

The crime scene was somewhat confused and indecipherable, as if you could confirm the puzzle that was the life of a walrus face. The road where the body was poured, was littered with bullets. The scientific spotted it well 79, but of these, not even touched a Karagorik engineer, who was lying on his stomach, with his cheek flattened to the ground and blood gushed from his back. In his right hand was found a cassette of Jalisse, containing a message: "To my perfume engineer tricky - with passion and respect. Your Lia. "

macabre signature next to the corpse of the murderer. A card changes color one.

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Finimmondo The TV supports Cippone

The Carnival is over and Finimmondo did not lose the opportunity to stay at the window watching the ancient rite of reversal of reality that will satisfy the " need a temporary dissolution of the social obligations and hierarchies to make way for the subversion, the joke and also to debauchery. [ http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carnevale ]

Finimmondo However this year has had a special window to look at everything: to Cippone TV which took over the carnival more oldest in Europe: that of Putignano like you've never seen all'insenga of good taste and elegance. Here's to you to the carnival Cipponesco:

Chapter 1: Parade

Chapter 2: A carnival at the bar

Chapter 3: At the carnival

Chapter 4: A carnival clandestine

;

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frayed the fabric of our dreams

unfolds in its path
suburban outskirts of silences and secrets while
really rough unfinished
reveal whether
virgin
think a naive teenager
away from any possible harm
yet so plagued by instances
of fatuous vanity
immoral

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dop forerunner

burning attraction towards an abyss

inanimate
I take the spirit from the angle correct

so tortuous as ever but at the same time

pregnant
placid woods wedged between the folds
This being subdued
crouched waiting
fearful object
doll
eyed
and failure to form
born with me
root of all melancholy outbursts

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painted in blue
a wall without cracks

and the tentacles of an unresolved yearning
your pale attempts

victories denied drinking endless cups
the empty
gritted
a solo turn on and everything appears

around when the essence is a tale

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The band Tango

Push Play before you start reading

8:03 am - Bar del Corso. Five kilometers from the objective.

Tango leads to mouth an espresso macchiato. Pocket decanted his whiskey on the rocks. Kodak ravenous bites into a sandwich instead of mortadella and provolone. The morning breath is not the same for everyone. Species such as those for morning. You could tell those little things who was the leader in that lot, who the and who the crazy fool.

Tango paid the bill, gave a glance at his watch and said - we go.

A black Ford Fiesta was heading towards anonymous Leaf Villa on the outskirts of the city. The plan had been studied in detail. The tension in the car was cut with a knife.

Kodak was driving. Black leather jacket and jeans on a mahogany-colored loafers. He did not like hats much, he preferred to show off his balding proud Advanced. His nickname if he brought with him from adolescence, when he made his first and only day of trial as an assistant to a studio. From that day also brings with it a resulting scar on the face hydrochloric acid that spilled on the floor.

Tango was sitting in front. His style was impeccable: pants and jacket belonging blacks, white shirt and thin red tie. To cover all un'impermeabile gray hat to Humphrey Bogart, flashy sunglasses and highly polished black shoes. To send away the tension was smoking a cigarette after another. Tango called him because of his love for dance halls and not just for those. He had planned everything to perfection and although they went at least fierce of his cronies knew that thanks to his guidance it would all went smoothly.

pocket was sprawled behind it. Was element of the group that did more to shake the wrists Tango. A crazy reckless able to put on a killing for nothing. His casts stress was alcohol. Whiskey bottle from his swallowing that extracted continuously from the breast pocket. This was the origin of the name of art. If you ask around in pocket, everyone knew the story of the little old lady kissed her. It was a simple robbery at a bank in the suburbs. The situation was the most regular pocket is made out to the pole just to avoid trouble combining the bank. The order was to not let anybody in the collection. At some point you pour a little old lady in front of him wanting to get busy. The pocket should not shove off is air, but the old woman does not want to know, pocket all the evidence but the old does not loosen. At one point grabs your ass and sticks a kiss on the mouth as he could not even with the whores of Via Garibaldi. The old goes off to him and kicks to the balls in half. Pocket feeling the pinch, remains a bit 'bent and unleashes a right just after the old crashing to the ground. Boom. The pocket of bad luck that day put him to the test. Just then a patrol car passing by and sees the whole scene. Two cops from the car and start running toward pocket. He just sees them raising their hands in the air and tries to mumble something like - there's a misunderstanding agent. As soon as I pull, exits the gun from his pants and head to the tip of the first two. Grab the pistol from the holster and stuck it in his pocket, the cop holds the neck down to the other and invites him to lay down their arms and put a face to the ground if you do not want to say goodbye to her boyfriend. Handcuffs them both against each other, then takes the police car and some like a madman. When they had finished
cronies tried that mad pocket but found only two bumbling cops linked to each other and an old woman to the ground stunned. Normal things like when you carry a pocket. For the record, the police found her car overturned in a field. Inside was also a box of condoms. What Scirocco pocket not happy with the rejection of old had seen fit to make up a whore in the car with the cops.

more ...

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smile and sway you
procession
between an essay and an arpeggio

not without derision

could still be worse if caught
in foul
lose his seat in the sacred

parliament for lack of courage

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raincoat dr. Franker

in the previous episode

The smell of burnt coffee that was poured on the stove, stirred Dr. Franker far from his thoughts and sleepy. While the ashes of his cigarette, still in his mouth, spread everywhere among the sweater and a cup of bitter coffee. He sent down all in one gulp, coal melted down in the bowels. He put the cup in the sink, put the above un'impermeabile gray flannel pajamas and blue of the old De Fonseca consumed. He took the keys from the desk and went sent from his studio.

was now months that Dr. Franker not had a case in his hands. The portfolio was crying, so to round writing articles of crime news for the Dark case, a newspaper dedicated to fans of Zippo lighters. Joint office of the editor of Dr.. Franker tried to put the record straight: "No cases of nuns disfigured clown and arsonists", otherwise he would leave for good cooperation with the newspaper. The Director Jack Marciello reassured him: "franker not battered the fuck. Stay with the pieces in the ass, you show up here in my pajamas, you are the last of the shit this fucking city, and even pretend to enact the law. The last article was written in your ass. Soon there is not that the relatives of victims sued for us ... "Dr. Francker immediately interrupted him, leaning toward him "Jack, there is a sign of electricians, there is a mafia of electricians in this city and you know best. Watt was not killed by quell'idraulico, missing from the equation, Watt was killed for an internal settling of accounts ". Tired of that story got Jack Marciello Shooting from his chair, emptied the burning tobacco of his pipe on the hand of Dr. Franker by pressing it with enthusiasm, "Frank, dickhead, no ideas of your fucking daughters do a frech stramaledettisimo hair pussy monk seal to none! If the police say that to kill that son of a dog Biddett Watt was a plumber, you have to write that fucking goddamn Biddett has slipped a hair dryer on the piss in the pool while it was Watt's alright?! You and your ideas of the devil from overwork investigator who does not see the beak of a case for at least five months you keep them for yourself. This is the last time I speak, then you throw out there to kick your ass. "Resetting of her voice again and riaccomodandosi in his chair, took his pipe out of the hands of Dr.. Franker and calmly resumed his speech: "Now go in the West between the eleventh and twelfth noon there was a fire and apparently found in a pool of blood some Albatros Karagoriki aka walrus face" go on the spot and try to understand what happened. "

The face of dr. Franker, one hand inside the other to hold the pain of the burn, immediately went into a state of semi-conscious. That name had burst in like a mushroom cloud that kept him immobilized for a very long and pale minute. Karagoriki walrus face would no longer sucked edges of his shirt.

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until you are able to remain silent once again


surprised by the tone of a blue
surrounding trees until you hear the old

thrill of the wind given off by the music


your eyes with tears of joy
able to see
subdued shades of emotion

nascent

Simon Deweygallery.com

Infodipendenze

The clock ticked on the shelf once alien. My eyes followed the hands resigned, unable to follow its inexorable. I got out of bed, resting his hands on his knees and looking at my feet. Arts forgotten that carried the weight of my body, distracted, half slave who carried my mind lazy. I grabbed the tea from the table, now frozen desserts and brought the cup to his mouth. I threw down a deep gulp swallowed my throat decided. The newspaper of the day before I delivered the faces of men forced to the command. I lingered on the faces of missing employees, from unlikely patrons of bars, on businessmen in the province or potential electricians, forced by fate cynical and cheat to keep a family privilege, to ensure revenue. To ensure that they are brilliant political career. Men forced to operate. The letters of the newspaper is continuous blend with the sound on the news, while a very successful blog gave his authoritative views on the latest public scandal. News chasing me thirsty, I hunted at any time, even in a loose-leaf Free imposed my attention. It was pure drugs which he received the tribute of dependence: But that day I decided that I would have taken a break. Quitting would have been a choice beyond my powers, day after day ensured that my addiction to everyday life. Tomorrow I stop to inquire.

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add a place in a fairy tale

a beach

its games and the picture of the sunset

the eyes of a child confused

the air of one who has not lived
dangerous instincts
the idiocy of adulthood
more mature march
moods
loves hot boiled
a sequence of flat plates

also celebrating the New Year celebration

crackling of boredom

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us any


to
such moments and such mysteries
this resistance
relentlessly

our movement to our tired eyes
to chant bloody chaos

otherwise known as case
who benefits
hold
tears or smiles, or the folly


to have him every day that passes

unresolved anger that comes from forgiveness?

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glossy stills

in the sun while listening

clings to the peaks disappear

not to hear the choir sing
evening
which tells the love in the form of music


forgetting all pain for the effect of a thrill Formal
hands of those who have acccanto
unmistakably warm and the smell of home

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The Index of Forbidden Books

The culture of the Province of Venice, together with his Education counterpart, the Veneto, they decided that the time is now mature enough to return to the Middle Ages, offering a list of banned books from blacklist. For this reason, we urge you to support the campaign against the complaint . Here is the list

prohibited:

#bookbloc

against the index of forbidden books. # Nodonazzan no # rogodilibri

info: http://www.wumingfoundation.com/giap/

http://loredanalipperini. blog.kataweb.it /