Sample Of Welcome Addresses

The title is the caption

The persuasive appeal of the word is truncated, the essential requirement of consistency of expression / formal and the small space is left to God's action in a world governed by science and technology

do not know exactly how I reminded, however, in the first media on request of the dreaded English teacher had prepared a poster to hang on the classroom wall in large letters outlining the construction of the interrogative form of sentence, or the orderly succession of auxiliary verb and subject.
To make the combination of impact, transcending the charisma of the slogan I used capital letters, bright colors, the question final requirement of a "+" to reconciliation between the different terms the same as had been reported in abbreviated form.
The abbreviation of the first two, school and unchallenged, respectively, had been "aus" and "living room", the third term instead, which I had proposed so naturally, he had raised a hornet's nest of controversy, but because "verb"? What is the abbreviation
that leverage a single letter of the word? He might as well write it in full!
These and other less reasoned objections (once cast the first stone even the illiterate had felt need to unite their voices to the chorus of stoning) I had been asked so insistently would force me to disguise the awkward question mark with an O and put a question mark between the new skimpy O and the edge of the paper.
In my eyes, what the aesthetic and conceptual point of view could be considered a masterpiece of synthesis and expression had been so brutally humiliated in its very essence. Not only in fact, the CG formula was no longer centered on the width of the paper (it was not any room left on the right side of it) and the letters seemed to gradually squeeze, but the same rationale had been affected. Because in my eyes, to present the last "addendum" was extended to a curse that broke the magical consistency of the formula: two of the three terms would be shortened and one written in full. I did and still very hard to accept the formal inconsistencies, prophet and imprisoned in a supreme order that compels me, without any purpose beyond from the purely aesthetic, to put an obsessive attention to every form of my production of expression (d ' Moreover, and here I reveal one of the secrets of the plot, if a public post skinny per month, not for lack of ideas or arguments, but because it is easy to get lost in the labyrinth of seventeen hundred of repeated readings and corrections invisible, comprising each even in the unlikely event this should be the last word, to be read the entire head composition).
Yes, I realize, in the end it is just another of the many disorders that affect a person paranoid. 90% of my life is consumed by more sanding details that remain undetected and that, in the eyes of the few that will have you noticed fortunately, will appear as totally unnecessary. Illi to our third meeting he had prophesied, that you look the part, you are attentive to details of the particular (at the time I complained of plasticaccia the remote control of the stereo). But is not this that distinguishes art from craft, masterpiece opera, the genius ingenuity?
However, surely this is not what I'm interested in deepening here, because the subject has already bored me, because I do not listen to the questions and answers, and teases me because now a lot more to focus on why I came back to this blessed bristol board with colored markers the first media.
I find it funny to find himself in the hands memories or thoughts or thoughts of memories and thoughts directly from their memories of the distant past without any of us (including me and my recollection) has never exchanged even the most fleeting glance of complicity neglected:
"I know you're there, there is that sooner or later you recover." Yet
happens, not infrequently, and to know what happens a bit 'to all (Unless you tell me to make me feel normal.)
The unfathomable mystery of how the things we come up with is one of the most inscrutable and intriguing I think, because just then I remember that very thought? What moves the thoughts and connections between them? Why
watching the train that crosses the level crossing, we can think of not paying the TV license fee? Why I am putting on pajamas assailed by doubts that he left the car open? Because counting the pennies in the purse we remember that boils water in a pot on the fire?
Probably, I throw it there, but this is big, this is one of the few degrees of freedom who remained in God to guide our lives.
Yes, here is another of my weird theories, the legacy of early adolescence and a harbinger of still not reached maturity: up to that ignorance prevailed among men of God had granted almost everything, from ' invasion of locusts to appear in the form of bush burning, As the science has progressed and with it the consciousness of our weak minds, to the divinity and to manifest itself mainly to take up the threads of human destiny is not left to intervene in those areas where science has not yet delivered, or in those where the tangle of science is too complex to unravel.
This in light of the undeniable will of God to try our faith and our worship (take my words with the devotion of a disciple, I would never accuse the Almighty to be proud ...), but did not demonstrate evidence of their existence.
Obviously this is speculation of a person who always feels a certain embarrassment in professing sane.
So let's unravel the tangle:
God exists (my opinion, more or less consciously shared by some other billion people on this planet).
God rules the destinies of the world (here is more like a suspect, shared across between atheists, believers and superstitious).
Men are free to act and accountable for their choices (I tend to exclude the second case, the "man of feminine gender with credit card unlimited credit limit")
God does not want to appear (well, everyone has their own quirks).

To be continued

Misty Mundae Spiderbabe Clips

The short moments of lucidity, parking the car and the bitter realization that there is no escape

am always distressed when I see that there is no escape, especially if they come to the restaurant just to enjoy a fried shrimp and prawns. Leaving aside the worst irony that early in the following lines I will talk about advertising on Regulation recently approved by the European Commission. In addition, I will try to prove to my eyes because the advertising is not the soul of trade but trade in souls. To make it a bit 'more interesting I will go here and there trifling digressions on tantric sex, what your girl tells you el'ingrediente secret of the Aztec aphrodisiac recipes, enjoy!

In my very brief moments of lucidity are prey to a frightening question: "I closed the car, right?"
Although in reality this has nothing to do, because I wanted to speak rather of a very short moments of lucidity in which I become aware of being subjected to continuous, more or less explicit advertising, I must tell you, to conclude this initial Incidentally, that the subtle insinuation of my brain takes me most of the time to retrace my steps to verify the closure of the car. What then is revealed
normally closed.
Even if at least one occasion, was open, once I even left the bunch of keys on the roof and another time retracing my steps I found on the floor wrapped in an elastic two bills cinqueeuro: from that moment consider the 'emergence of the doubt as a providential sign of fate that I never dare to ignore.
So I can only read as an act of malice of the Gods their free press to inculcate the doubt even when they are already too far away from the car. Type, you're on stage, screen or on the train: the doubt in that case has no redeeming value because the way that you attack in a context where you can not listen to it. And the very fact that you should ignore you consciously plunges into an abyss of anxiety and torment that goes on like a steamroller shrewd plot of the thriller. You then find yourself more completely estranged from the present and see you sitting in that dark room ingurgiti popcorn, in the compartment of the train that nod to the lady who is talking to you, in the bathroom of the theater that you smoke a cigarette while brutes , in front of your deliberate impotence of abusing her with cruelty and scarring. The suffering is prolonged until the inevitable cathartic moment they do not see her again with your own eyes the long hood and aerodynamic shape of your beloved Panda 30. But never mind the glorious Fiat of the Roaring Eighties and all the parked cars (sooner or later we will return, is a topic that is close to my heart) to enter the full address and deal with the devil in my personal projection: the sprawling metamorphic and advertising, in its most troublesome incarnation, the "cathode".

The idea is the latest idea (read more) European Commission (slight nod). It seems that the gentle Lady Vivianne Reading, European Commissioner for Communications has submitted to the Honourable the European Parliament (which approved by a large majority) a text that redefined the parameters that govern the commercial breaks in the flow of television programming. A reported in a short blurb in the bottom of the fifth page of major newspapers, crushed between the roof and handsome chocolate covered Eva Longoria (actually I can not comprehend how my eye was able to land right on) under the recently approved change the density and distribution of advertising inside a container. We briefly summarize the effects as follows:
1. breaks will be shorter but more frequent,
2. there are no particular restrictions on the use of children in advertising, or the use of advertising in children's programs (the only exception to the "junk food"),
3. advertising will be allowed on split screen (split screen, while the transmission continues to be a part of the other airs an advertisement) overlays and teleshopping should be without these publicity bound to weigh on the mountain to the parameters of the law.

All this, which to my myopic eyes analyst surface results in the words "a lot more advertising on TV", starting from the premise that requires a substantial equivalence of the concept of advertising to that of productivity (which implies the dangerous but now obvious equation citizen = consumer).
At this point none of you will be able to refrain from a rant about (the car is parked under the house and I'm sure it has verified the actual closing of the doors) in which I will try to make you understand why I have so much hatred towards the beloved Reclam .
not because suddenly bursts in the film while the two protagonists are going to have sex or while your hands will melt slowly and it is unclear if the guy falling off a cliff, you will find some pretext, or die horribly mangled, or not exclusively. Rather because
order to increase its persuasive capacity relies on my (And your) instincts more sinister, and more.
The thing that makes me most of all odious is his admirable work. I myself, the first accuser, are only one of many victims.
immediately explains with an example: I can not buy a soda that is not advertised on television.
cautious Wandering the aisles of the supermarket, we always try to pick up a bottle of lemonade, or the bitter orange foam. The balance, read the label with puzzled look, first-hand button and the roughness of the indented plastic bottle, but there's no way, it always ends in the Coke truck. Or Sprite. Or, if today I am an anarchist Pepsi and SevenUp. And why? Why are the victim of a relentless campaign that has impressed me a concept left, not the "Coca is the most good" or "Coca is the most refreshing," but another one that slyly hides between these two states and cryptic : you can take a product that is branded, but all of your guests will be exchanged embarrassed looks and think of being at a party in the parish hall and you'll figure the loser, because we all know "if you're really cool drink only Coke. " Because of appearance in society if we want to establish our quality with our actions even before we do so through products we use.
"If you're really cool drink only Coke" is in front of "The Coke is really cool" and behind "If you drink Coke you are not at all cool (and everyone will have clear evidence)."
Why? The answer is simple, in the consumer society, consumers are not a projection of their own consumption. We are on our watch, we have our car, we are our shirts and our scent. And unfortunately these are just my deductions witty but comes dangerously close to the slogans that run beneath the glossy images of the Products. Increasingly aggressive advertising campaigns in the slogans have become shameless, do not need to be Sibylline and brutally explicit, but now we are so used that almost no one noticed it.
To be continued.

Temporary Visitor Driving Licence

Media Blog: What you see in the crystal ball is all true, but if I had not looked ...

Other personal contribution to the debate on the scope and boundaries of the media. I promise to quit as soon as possible to pretend to be a serious person, indeed, a person.

media to tell the world they were born and have come to change it, because the world when it was noticed to be in front of prying eye of the camera, so after the initial embarrassment, has become pretty and compliant.

And this is the greatest paradox of our everyday life we \u200b\u200bbounce through the interconnected liquid crystals: the media if they are malicious, give a fake because artificially corrupt, if they are (naively) virtuous give us a distorted picture because it is still different from what we could enjoy watching with our eyes, without intervening screens .

To simplify the notion I give myself an example, to complicate it a reflection scientificofilosofica.

The effect of media on such a large part of the "phenomena" of politics, news, sports, entertainment, costume, etc. is that of the camera lens when it is pointed at the face of your girl, after her initial reluctance to take in their hair and then, regardless the momentary state of the (volatile) mood, an expression atteggerà pleased, perhaps handing objective terms it considers best.

The world gives us the cathode ray tube, therefore, at best is a world that has just been combed, which boasts smiles or tears, which are only there to make a reality whose intimate reason is to be communicated (transmitted ) and view
before they "lived".

And now the pompous reflection.

The German physicist Werner Heisenberg in 1927 has laid down a principle universally known as the Uncertainty Principle (although this is in effect a theorem) that has not only revolutionized the world of physics but had an overwhelming effect on the consciousness of contemporary intellectuals disrupting the absolute faith that science had won in the century positivist and slamming the door behind him that was left ajar.

The enunciation of the principle in words very poor is this: "We can not simultaneously know the position and momentum of an electron." Beyond the scientific and scholarly disquisition of the complex differential equations that support this statement, what interests us in this context is not its meaning in the fledgling science of quantum nor the meaning given in the troubled world of the humanities (the degree certainty that we can achieve through science is not indefinite). What interests us is his first, erroneous interpretation, which at first the same Heisenberg was convinced and today (despite being publicly disowned) very popular, (my science teacher in high school he was firmly convinced ). This interpretation says, "We can not know the location of the electron at a given time because the act of measurement produces a disturbance on the motion of particles that leads to occupy a different position from that which the same operation would have occupied in the absence measurement. That is, the mere fact of observing the phenomenon changes the phenomenon itself. And then interpreting the first (green) Heisenberg we returned to the media, to say "watch the world media have caused an effect on it that changed him."

But thus far we have slid words, now caliamoci in the "reality" that surrounds us.

policy has changed with the Media:
has grown from a part of the spectacle and to customize other;
politicians are less rhetoric and more rhetoric, less charismatic and more stars, less philosophical and more sellers
the political message of the electorate was gradually simplified and limited, ultimately embodied in the slogan that embraces clichés and reject as dispersive concepts depth of the problems and faceting of reality.

The same electoral system is probably largely a child of television. We could go on much longer but we get out of politics. Sport also has adapted to television, football matches are played every day of the week and we were just a step to enter the time-out within 90 minutes in order to better manage inventory. The publicity surrounding the whole show from the bottom of the playing field in the calves of the players. This

going to consider only the first "reporting" of the media, not the appearance of entertainer. Obviously our lives daily has been remodeled in its rhythms and its time on television as a medium of entertainment, but I insist, this is not the subject of debate, but the value of the reporting medium.

At this point I could go on indefinitely giving examples to support my thesis and pointing his index finger against the demon, but this is not my goal, or at least, this is not its context, because my thought would be incomplete if not take note of the role of new media, those who are the grandchildren of television and of which they have inherited a few flaws and some pregio.Ma work is too ambitious for a simple blog, then throw the stone and hide the hand but the pond, the water being moved in concentric circles is you, then do not indignatevi if I have not revealed the name of the murderer and get through the questions: The Internet is changing the world? Internet fraud or perpetrerà ripararerà the damage done by television? I do not know the answer but you whisper a hint: it all depends on you. It depends on the realization that you have in using the tool.

Milena Velba]milena Velba[/url][/b]

Media Blog: 15 minutes of fame, or do not like talking about Allison Allison

Courtesy of MediaBlog publish the post with which I opened my collaboration with the prestigious title (...). Forgive me, but for once "dress clothes" / "picks up the pen" of the serious person.

the day Yesterday May 30, 2007 all major containers, aggregators and harvesters "news" spread on the internet adorn your home with a photo and a paragraph devoted to the eighteen year old Allison Stokke California from the kind face and athletic physique that apparently held the peculiarities of:
- be a normal girl,
- have become famous in spite of,
- dismiss all the clamor around him grew with the desire to return to the ranks of their intimate daily life, or something like that.

The girl was presented as a web phenomenon of the moment and the statement was corroborated by a series of zeros:
- a video viewed 150,000 times on YouTube;
- 300,000 pages identified by Google that contain references to her;
- several tens of unofficial sites devoted exclusively to her;
- countless conversations on the blog forum chat etc that she had as an object of debate.

Learning this information has stimulated in me a series of reflections concerning Allison only marginally and that in one way or another, all revolve around the real stars of this news, the media / communication (which today the same thing, no?).

The first reflection, from which spring all the others, is "certain that today does not take much to finish on the lips, thought, and under the eyes of millions of people." But it is a concept a little 'rough, let's refine it.
The media guide our perceptions of transmitting information at the speed of light from one end of the two hemispheres: an attractive and well-contained "channeled" exponential growth will be ensured, as uttered a malicious rumor in the village square and self-perpetuating soon became self-sufficient: the more you talk and more talk about it, beyond what it actually covers.
So the news of the Internet is sufficient to overcome a critical threshold of contacts and then, like a snowball rolling down the hill, will grow out of proportion and no longer need external support. At that point
become de facto news: "Today everyone is talking about, let's have the latest developments. This video will have seen the
100,000 people, there will necessarily something to see. We therefore look

Allison doing the pole vault because it is not the cleverest or the most beautiful gymnast expressed by the current generation of athletes U.S. models, not because it represents a model or embodies aspirations / achievements of a particular category of people but for the fact that the video about this nice girl has already been seen by many and therefore there curious about its content. The fact is no longer news that there is a beautiful girl who makes the pole vault, there is probably There are many, perhaps even more pretty or provocative, the news is that there is a video that saw one hundred and fifty thousand people who has popularized a common girl without her doing anything to jump to the headlines.

But the subtle message that I read between the lines of the sidebars is another: "The news is that there is a piece of news that is news." The Internet is the medium of self par excellence, has already moved km on the border largely driven by the average of the previous generation: even more print and television internet lives of his creatures, and probably even more of his ancestors in need of his creations to survive (for TV for example we could say "what Channel 5 without Mike Hello?").

Forget the pathetic cry for help launched the lovely Allison, unintended victim of a celebrity: Allison enjoy it while it lasts, and you are right to say something unexpected if you want to continue to ride the wave.
But within the news we have to understand is that it is simply a gesture of pride of the Internet which slyly, would convince us of the validity of what Andy Warhol said in 1968: "In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes. "

Then we could discuss the fact of how the Internet has accelerated the rate of creation and destruction of a myth: Lecciso before the finish on the front page all the time was already a little 'magazine that he parlicchiava the first to disappear into oblivion and the media we had to put up with a long fade. Allison however, until recently no one outside of Orange County knew nothing, and tomorrow (ie today) no longer speaks. This does not mean however that the 15 minutes sooner or later there will be for everyone.

Forget the corny speeches about the premature lapse of the celebrities, the talk of the need to appear (in the mediated world) that we have to exist (in the immediate world) and all its consequences that these statements involve (if you're there because I see you, if I stop to see you do not exist anymore?) and bow down to the internet and its owners.

He's there polishing his insignia and to us, deceived unsuspecting Internet users to be conquered freedom once exchanged with the remote mouse, all that remains is to reflect on the true scope of this revolution and freedom we have left if, after beyond our four walls, we explore the world walking in single file.

Stoll Color And What They Mean

sheep That will not save the world: Episode 4

Here we preview the first adventure of the sheep Fred, bulky figure of my dark subconscious. Obviously Fred is not just an animal stuffed animals but embodies the dream projection of my innermost desires and atavistic meaning of guilt.

I

The old convertible whizzes on the wound of asphalt that cuts through the wide horizon of the desert.
The radio itself leaves behind a trail of heavy metal while Fred empty beer cans and threw them out the window squeezed like lemons.
I'm screaming "Shoot out asshole" but Fred turns the knob to turn up the volume.
E 'at that point that I hear the hissing sound of the siren and the rectangle of the mirror appears to Ford from the long black hood, with all the chrome gleaming.
The man at the wheel we are doing extensive notes with his left hand out the window.
put his car on the side of the road while Fred leads me to press on the gas "you do not have the balls, please guide me."
The policeman gets out, closes the door, throws at us and continues to look grim stare and puts on black leather gloves left on the dashboard.
"If you cared to exceed your limits, you could at least prevent you from achieving," laments Fred, "amateur" fed up with making things worse.
"But I have not exceeded the limit!" I try to giusticarmi with little conviction.
distracted attention from us, the cop leans on the hood of the police car to pick up what now appears to us as clearly The body of a can of beer and still part of the body and windshield.
"Fred fuck you" chew between his teeth while throwing a sidelong glance.
The policeman handling the foreign body with the conservative distrust of a blaster, studies holding it up to his own hand, and muttering something to himself, puts it in a plastic bag transparent, readily extracted from a shirt pocket.
System for your fedora on his head, comes forward to decisive steps towards us. But Fred
burps and smell the breath is a sewer, so do I get out and meet the officer who heard shouting "Be still! Hands behind his head. "
bow my head slightly and saw that indeed there is a gun pointed at me.
The policeman is leaning forward with her legs spread, knees bent and your butt all the way back, like riding a Harley Davidson, close in her hands glistens show the big pistol.
hand rose slowly from the door, which is ajar, and clasping her hands behind her head. Fred
burps again, louder, and this time he also feels the policeman.
"He has problems?" One shouts. There was a moment of silence, a breath of cold wind slapping my face while I am the radiant sun bakes the desert slowly.
"I have to consider how his opinion efficiency of the National Police Service, "resumed the officer, his voice rippling slightly.
I'm like "it was not me ... it was the sheep!" Pointing to his companion with the thumb of his right hand, his hands still behind his head. Fred
spits out the window and chewing a "fuck you".
"Do not make it funny! Be firm and tell your partner to raise your hands. "
The sheep laughs to himself, chewing through clenched teeth" damn fool ".
"The lifting is already" speak.
"Get your cocks" Fred aloud pursues me.
"Let the facts its" echoes the cop and I see him get up on tiptoe to see the outline of the passenger.
close my eyes and start to pray.

II

The police officer approached us and cautious team, when I open my eyes, I myself squarely in the reflection of the large distorting mirror lenses.
The policeman makes a circle around the car and then pulls out a small plastic bag swinging nervously between his thumb and forefinger of his right hand.
"I can explain everything," I try to intervene, but Fred interrupts me, "Shut up" bursts out dry.
"Here," said the policeman, "has not yet reached its time to talk."
The policeman now dedicated team back then looked up at me, stares at me for an interminable moment and returns to Fred. Fred now returns his gaze and takes a chance in a slight nod of her head.
"Favorite of your files, please," continued the policeman, who tries to maintain composure despite the formal and increasingly ill-concealed irritation.
Fred with his paw open the glove compartment door and fall out condoms in the bags and silver cigarette packets open, I try the paper of an accomplice smile turned to the policeman - who obviously does not return, remaining impassive - And turn my head towards the sheep. Moving his lips without uttering any sound punctuates the words properly
"F red damn NOT do it."
I see him digging with his paw between the maps and feel the rivulets of sweat that I trace the veins on his forehead.
With the corner of my eye I see the foot come in contact with the butt of the gun.
At that point, now it's too late for any intervention, the uncertainty about my future, dividing equally between a bored death of lead on the roadside or a death in the electric chair to fry a filthy County Penitentiary. I close my eyes, let myself fall head over heels, and beginning to unravel one of the greatest sins of which beg forgiveness.

III

When he raised his head I have no God before me, but the same policeman who meticulously studied our IDs, I'm still alive, and apparently the gun is remained secure in the glove compartment of the dash.
I'm breathing a sigh of relief when a flash as I remember the picture on the passport of Fred, the damn pictures of sheep with rasta braids held back by the pink glasses, unshaven, puffy eyes and bags, " dick "I say to myself," he go again. "
It is in that exact moment, in fact, that puts the engine flooded the cop finds himself in the place of the lungs.
I whirled toward the sheep to scan in a low voice, "you are an asshole ..." when Fred laconic replies to me without any attention to moderate the tone, looking dejected, leaning on a indefinite horizon.
"Look what is your driver's license in his hand."
Meanwhile, the policeman stopped to suppress the tremor of the jaw and is gradually abandoning the frantic drives the body.
Read the fear that is about to explode in a fit of homicidal rage mention an "agent Excuse me ..." but this has been folded on his stomach pointing a hand on his knee while with the other hand continues to hold the passport photo of the license before my eyes. It
just in time to exclaim "What a wanker ..." before collapsing on the floor.
my head out the window and I see it thrown on the ground that gasps between sand and asphalt falls prey to hysterical laughter, like a snake covered by an electric current, like a goldfish aquarium dropped out, like a dog in heat prey a seizure: arches his back, he turns on himself, beating his fists on the floor and shakes his legs, uttering a cry all next of kin of coughing and hiccups of the safety rather than laughter.
And 'This is one of those times when my dignity commute with my own existence.
I dare not even support the view of Fred el'adirato between the bored, flying to do with sore paw on the door.
He stopped to light a cigarette only collected from those scattered on the mat, and he offers to another policeman, who painstakingly recovered effort coughing while standing up again, raising dust from the handful shirt and pants.
This rests on the side of our car, the documents collected from the ground and throws them in the back seat, make a gesture as if to remove something, he lifted his sunglasses on his forehead and - closer to the two cross-eyed muzzle of the sheep - asks timidly, "grass?"
What follows, it happens before I have time to give a look into the terrified Pecorone.

IV

The old convertible whizzes on the strip of asphalt that separates the desert as the march of Moses divided the Red Sea.
The radio gives voice to Bob Marley, by my side the sheep Fred pulls a joint and then rearranges the police officer's hat on his head, too large for its size - "puttanaaa goat!" - Continues to muzzle cadergli .

1022 Bullpup Gun Kits

well Follow the white rabbit, so it is useless

of the loop of the tie and the only way left to transgress

do not know if a dress "smart" gives greater dignity / prestige to the person wearing it, actually it is a question on which I racked my brains over and over again without ever having dissolved my doubts about it (despite several hours and half hours have remained bloodless on the battlefield).

Some say that I, elegant dress, I'm fine. What consoles me only to a certain point, a little 'how to tell a prisoner "lines orizzonatali you donate, seem less thin." This is because, in fact, I have always appreciated the freedom not to dress "smart". That does not mean concerts as a beggar, be sloppy, careless or sloppy, it means simply ignoring a dress code that includes stringent rules to compose the dress of an individual from a well-defined and restricted to animals, whose features extend in a very narrow space, and whose reports are stylistic and chromatic predetermined. Probably not rule it out, I am inclined to reject the "code" is not natural for a libertarian spirit that invites me to not bend to the compromises that our culture of citizens and before that "consumers in search of happiness, or statement of profit and personal expense, even before about it, other ", but rather to accept and conform to another" code "that probably was brought by a language more persuasive to my ears.
fact, talking about my "dress", which is probably not one of the many vagaries of the fashion business, which is also just as rigidly codified and more in line with my inclinations, perhaps only because the proposal through models in which I am better able to identify.
Then, I think even those who reject certain codes and I realize that the transgression of certain rules, too, is completely encrypted. One of the tragedies of our age, which emptied of meaning in many battles start, it is that the transgression has become a purely commercial phenomenon. It is simply outrageous fashion, it is even out of fashion "not outrageous". But this is one of my strong points and now this is what I want to talk, we remain on clothing (Illi would be proud of me, I just rejected the temptation to change the subject, is going on, I'm maturing!). Then we resume the thread.
many girls who claim to be immune to passing fashions and more mainstream behavioral react to these clothes in a way that they are exempt, but simply to answer a different model. What can I infer from this? That we are not free to express ourselves and that in any direction we turn our expressiveness, however, we are referring to models clearly codified. So we can do is jump from one model to another? Some schemes collapsed in the exact moment when you realize the rules that underpin and contours that are defined. For such dreams is so. When, during a dream, we realize that we are living a dream, the fictional world around us collapses. From that moment we can choose to wake up, continue the dream by imposing our rules (at this point, however, speaks of a particular type of dream, lucid dream), to save the game or change the channel. E (very simplified) sometimes has been so for totalitarian regimes: when the people took note of the grim situation of exploitation in which paid, controlled by a mass of arrogant despots, then broke revolutions that have swept those same regimes. But slice the trunk in the second digression (now I'm definitely in shape) and away "ball" on the post. This does not apply in fashion and especially for those who object to the way we dress. On the contrary, I see no way out if not too tight openings.
exaggerating my argument, I'm thinking, leaving out the "code" only those who are insensitive models that the media (in all its possible ramifications sprawling) directly or indirectly offer us and force us (the field is reduced to a very small number of people). And as a rebuttal to identify these "anarchists" might identify them as those who, anyone who follows a code (embody the expression of a fashion) does not recognize them as units within their category.
In the case of clothing, then, we might conclude that the only truly free are those that are recognized as being poorly dressed or are not recognized as best dressed from virtually all others. In this category, but I can include only the real beggars and naked men. Do I have to
waiting for the bus stop with Zebedee ranging to faint breath of wind to feel truly free? The price of freedom is the price of humiliation? But to what extent the nonconformity is a way out and not a trap door to a new "code"? Until the moment you consciously ignore the code that surrounds us. But this, as you'll see you too, in the world of global media is impossible. In short, the evidence of the strength of the system is in its widespread dissemination prior to being in our habits and our gestures, in our thoughts.
If we are not aware humor him, if we are aware we continue to support him by conforming to it or persists in denying it. However affects us. However, the system wins. But this is not my blog, but the movie Matrix, then I must leave to run to answer the phone ringing insistently in the cab on the street corner.

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of shyness, discomfort and the absolute uselessness of the study, all scientifically proven.

A number of things that have happened to me in my life led me to realize an image in my head, revealing an image so as distressing:
seen from outside, so I look like. Yet
image as real, as fallacious. Still think a bit 'above, in fact, I realized that in marking I hid behind the large leaf of the verb "to seem."
The second step in the full discovery of myself was as follows: "If you look like, so are." Let me explain.
Being so is a feature that is revealed in the perception that others have of us, and in the field of perception seem to be absolutely synonymous.
From that moment then, I had to face a much harsher reality of what I had until then proposed: it seems I "is" shy. Which follows directly from I'm 'a' so.
fact, shyness is one of those characteristics sufficient to draw / describe an individual. How jellatore, fig, asshole, smart, nerd, fearful and several others.
is know to be "timid" makes the case that I first made this even more overwhelming (I guess you call it by name, "Insecurity," I dare not so much).

depth but my best features. In my never-ending journey towards healing the second an unreachable compromise that I have to get down, after giving a name to my ills, you do with a picture, describe and explain. So when I say that I am / I look like so, I say this in the sense that if I say something out loud always start with the voice that I get shaky if I enter into a conversation already begun angustissimo I find it hard to carve out a space and then, when finally, after many hesitations I can begin with my speech, then normally it happened that one of the parties has taken a firm tone perfectly overlapping his words speak to me, so that none of these has been given the opportunity to realize that I've spoken word, and dialogue continues ignorant of my presence.
Another thing that makes an account of my shyness is my approach with people "overflowing" Take for example the secretary of my office. Chick is for some reason I took a liking to, so every now and then, when going from here with the block of visits and permits, into our office and begins to tell me something about his private life that I have not totally and asked about which I did nothing that could only lead them to doubt that I was actually interested to hear it. And the thing that makes the situation really is grotesque that once he started talking there's no way to stop it and goes on multiples of twenty minutes. So, what are the ski, the recipe for cooking the cod fish served or accommodated his personal opinions (and I might add "questionable") on how to solve the traffic problem in town with the benefit of all, I remain a prisoner of a Kafkaesque situation. His way of doing arrembante, but always considerate of me, stop me from saying "I'm sorry when I have something to do, we can talk later?" / "Let me, but I'm not really interested in this topic" / "Sorry, but you broke my dick, I turn away the most important things to do than put up with your bullshit."

I could go on for a long time to quibble about my shyness and my other disorders (after all getting lost in my disorder is not the most popular of my disorder), but as you know I can hardly remain master of the train of thought for more than a few lines: it is now a leit - motif the gesture of Illi that while I speak with the right index finger draws unlikely paths in the air, accompanying the gesture with a humming buzz zze ze ze. " This is the mime of "Flight of the Fly," which, in his personal opinion, for me as it does for cats, it is also expedient enough to distract them from their more concentrated occupations.

So I would move the center of gravity of the speech on the concept of syllogism, already Afront earlier because I was reminded the other (following the "seem so, in the world of appearance and seem to be the same, I'm shy"), the result of other sweaty intellectual achievement, that on the relationship between culture and ignorance.
By habit, I realized that I learn more things and more I realize how extensive the world of knowledge beyond my personal limits of how deep the abyss of my ignorance and how big the gap that separates me from the nearest boundary of knowledge.
Therefore, if the concept by saying that estramizzassi-colloquially- feel and be that ignorant, are two states of being that they tend to overlap, and do all things lawful, given the undeniable relativity at the base of the word "ignorance", then I could close the circle by concluding "the more I learn the more we become ignorant" clearly legible, even as more studies and less you know "where" what studies to do, "from which" sit down and it will pass. "