Strengthen Ankle Ligaments

Dear baby Jesus

Caro signor gesùbambino, tra poco è la sua festa e mamma e papà mi hanno detto che le devo scrivere una lettera. Io avrei preferito un sms così potevo tornare a giocare con il game cube tre modificato che legge cd crackati. Mi dicono che a mezzanotte è il suo compleanno e bisogna essere buoni. Anche il mio papà lo è: ieri al semaforo, quando un uomo negro si è avvicinato alla macchina per lavare i parabrezza, il mio papà non ha azionato, come al solito, il tergicristallo urlando che questi luridi scansafatiche they returned to their country, but he smiled, lowered his window and gave the man fifty cents and shook his hand. Then it was cleaned with bleach-soaked rags five, he turned on the heat and left. The mother smiled proudly. He said: "you have to grow up to be like Dad, take example." Mine is just a nice family and I thank you, baby Jesus. Yesterday we went together to the new shopping center "the gates of paradise" in the morning my dad was not in the skin. To enter the parking lot we waited six and a quarter hours in the queue. My dad looked around, my mom was tense. I heard them talk about trucks. It seems you have to grab at least one. At one point I saw my mother out of the car and rush two hundred yards in eleven seconds. He had thrown up a man in a white dress with two shopping carts, clung to him, and spoke excitedly. I accompanied him, has disappeared in the midst of eight rows of cars and ten minutes later she reappeared with two saddles trionfante.Felici we entered the mall. Unbelievable, Mr. gesùbambino. It 's a beautiful place, should see it. There are six hundred forty-six stores, ninety-six cinemas, eight theaters, a circus, two churches, a parliament, thirteen schools, one hundred and twelve games rooms, a casino on five floors, twelve hotels, a food court every three steps: there pleaded with rice balls, david crocchè, pizzizza with topless, contorted with sweets. And then one square kilometer of electronics for everything! My dad had the bright eyes, took his wallet, gave me the credit card "spendibaby" which has made for me, then gave the "spendimamy" mother and told us "on our own, I'll see you here tonight, around at eleven. " And go! Ten hours all to me, I did not know where to start. I had to buy gifts for mom, dad, Uncle Gilberto, Aunt Agnes, my cousins \u200b\u200band Sue Ellen ar Gei, Uncle Tom and Aunt Louise, Deborah's cousin, grandparents, our neighbors, and then something for me, frankly, that in the last two weeks I took eight nine at school and had cost me half of weekly pocket money to bribe the professor and I could not even buy a comic splatter on the crimes of comunismo.Così , gesùbambino my dear, I spent a wonderful day. I was all morning to pack up the presents and put them under the tree. In a few hours there's all family and friends and start the dinner. With what his mother has prepared you feed Zaire for six months. I do not know what it means but it said my dad proud and I think one thing buona.Intanto I write this letter, Mr. gesùbambino and I do not know what to say. Maybe begin by thanking you. Poi magari esprimo qualche desiderio. Innanzitutto la ringrazio di non avermi fatto negro. E poi di avermi fatto con le palle.Ieri sera ho sentito in una trasmissione televisiva, un signore che diceva che i poveri sono poveri perché non hanno le palle. Io non sono povero quindi ho le palle. Grazie signor gesùbambino. Un altro signore ieri sera in tv diceva che i terroristi si lasciano esplodere perché comprimono l’invidia della ricchezza e del benessere che non riescono a raggiungere. Scoppiano di invidia. Grazie signor gesùbambino per non avermi fatto terrorista e per non farmi scoppiare.E adesso passo ai desideri. Signor gesùbambino vorrei innanzitutto chiederle di far morire in fretta il nonno. La mamma non ne può più di pagare le retta dell’ospizio. He says that with the thousand euro per month could afford a personal trainer for the home gym. He would need so much, Mr. gesùbambino, does a lot for us and has the right to relax. Then I would ask my cousin ennio cure the disease that struck him. It appears that reads two books a week and has decided to remove the TV from his bedroom. He even hung a poster on the walls of the room with a Negro, a Martin Luther King. It is saying that we are all equal. His aunt took him to a psychiatrist who is often seen on television, Dr. Paul crack. It seems that the diagnosis is very negative. They want to stay overnight. I'm sorry because ennio is good with me, taught me to play football. Yes just like in pro evolution piessedue of soccer. I could not imagine it but nothing that I did in that game console you really can do. Unbelievable. Dear Mr. gesùbambino face ennio heal, please. If not that put it in the end manicomio.Del next desire, Mr. gesùbambino, a little 'I'm ashamed. At school there is a girl that I really like. Ilary is called. The mother does the letter to word of mouth, dad the policeman in Iraq. They are the couple's favorite Maurizio Costanzo. In fact they are always on TV. Ilary is eight years old, is tall and seventy feet and the fourth port of the breast. The mother has inflated them to him with a silicone-based care and suet. Ilary shot a commercial of a film containing child pornography Manzotin and running clandestinamente su internet. Io vorrei tanto avvicinarla e dirle che sono innamorato. Vorrei un bacio. Ma lei mi mette soggezione. Siamo anche riusciti ad appartarci, una volta, in palestra. Stavo per dirle che mi piace tanto e che vorrei baciarla ma lei, prima che cominciassi, mi ha detto che non vuole legarsi, che è disponibile a una relazione di sesso e che non vuole vincoli. Vuole farlo con chi le pare e che deve prima realizzarsi nella vita. Io volevo solo un bacio, signor gesùbambino, dice che è possibile? E adesso passo ai desideri per l’umanità, visto che, come dice papa silvio primo, non dobbiamo essere egoisti e dobbiamo aprire il cuore a carità e fede, soprattutto fede.Caro signor gesùbambino, se può, ci dia a year without too many victims in the Western wars, with fewer blacks on ships coming to take away the work with prostitutes in the houses closed and away from innocent eyes of our children, with more judges and less honest judges, with less and less Chinese Palestinians. Protect us from terrorism and disease, biased by information, we steal from the Albanians in their homes. Now the greeting, signorgesùbambino, knocked on the door and start the dinner. Dad wants us all to the table otherwise you angry and makes a black eye to mamma.Le I offer my best wishes for a happy birthday, hoping that it always has and still wants to be born. In spite of everything.

H Pylori Straight Gay

The administration weakened

return to business as from time to time happens on this blog, the administrative affairs of Marano di Napoli, a city which city councilor. Com 'is known to those who follow the local political events in recent days, things have happened: two councilors have resigned (Nasti and cloud), two directors majority abstained on a proposal from the administration (and Amitrano Carandente) , six other directors were absent from the majority to an important meeting of the Board (Infantocci, Chianese, Iorio, Prince, Baiano and Severino), and a leader of the council majority (Coppola) has left office.
This is a series of political events that individually could also represent personal choices but inserted into a sequence of a few days give the sign of a clear political crisis.
Where do these divisions and what they imply for the administration and the city?
The divisions arise, I believe, an administrative project that seems increasingly incapable of responding to people's needs and is proving increasingly politically weak.
Two months ago, myself, along with fellow Democratic Party and a few others, tried to make it clear that the administrative situation had reached a point so critical that it requires a rigorous and serious change of pace. The financial crisis on the one hand, the lack of design vision and operational capacity of the other have led the administration, in his first two and a half years in a sort of quagmire. The city seemed riveted to his emergency: traffic, traffic disruption, inefficiency, lack of design work on the local economy and cultural identity, lack of strategic planning on making community. It was necessary to change the registry. Necessary to change the method, opening participation and collegiality. And you had to change the structure, opening the executives to skilled people, motivated, capable, selected the contents and values \u200b\u200band not on numbers and shirts.
Faced with these demands, some parties are entrenched. They have defended their handling of space while denying access to valuable technical or more political motivated and competent. They were afraid of losing power stations and so short-sighted, have chosen to protect the vegetable garden today without realizing that it lost the city of tomorrow.
The mayor, meanwhile, was to challenge the silly resistance of the parties, and should have said: "The situation is critical, I do not work you have done, now change everything and do a circle. Who's there are. If not all at home. "
I'm sure that it would close out better governance: people with more serious to deal with the crisis, with more planning and a real cohesion between those (few or many) that would remain to support the project. Instead
si è avuto paura, o non si è avuta la capacità di fare la cosa giusta. Si è confermato il quadro esistente, con un sovrappiù di tensione politica, di insoddisfazione, di frustrazione.
Il risultato è quello che si vede oggi. Gli assessori si dimettono, le forze politiche si spaccano, i dissidi interni consumano le energie e quel poco che si potrebbe fare viene eroso dalla conflittualità.
A questo punto, però, ci si chiede: che fare? C’è chi dice che non c’è più spazio per rimediare e che bisogna sciogliere il Consiglio e andare ad elezioni ad aprile prossimo. Lo dice l’opposizione, ovviamente, ansiosa di diventare maggioranza. E lo dice anche qualche pezzo di maggioranza, che forse immagina di poter rivincere le elezioni.
Io ho un’altra opinione. Penso che l’amministrazione debba proseguire il suo mandato.
Sono stato, in questi anni, tra quelli che hanno fatto più critiche al sindaco e alla sua gestione. Eppure penso che oggi in città non esista un’alternativa a questo quadro politico. Da eventuali elezioni ad aprile, la città può ricavare un’amministrazione peggiore. O, nella migliore delle ipotesi, “pareggiare”: cioè avere un quadro simile, per limiti e provenienze. Perché ho questa certezza? Perché osservo la vita politica e sociale in città. Non vedo soggettività in movimento. Non vedo persone nuove. Non vedo tensione sociale. Vedo crisis and detachment. In this context, who would win? The usual suspects. In difficult times, the most persuasive arguments are stinking.
So what to do? Continue this way? No, I do not believe that either. I think we should take the path that was made two months ago an abortion. The mayor must relocate at the top of the situation and make a speech clear to the parties. Must recognize that the situation is dramatic and clear to all that it takes a joint effort of responsibility and seriousness. We must get around a table and secure a five point program for the next two years: 1) the collection and diffenziata new cycle of waste, 2) economic rehabilitation of the institution, and 3) launch a plan for maintenance the city in its road network, infrastructure, services and urban, 4) redefinition of the internal road network, increased vigilance and monitoring progress on the carpet stop wild; 5) launched a project on culture and identity development, aggregating the local community, drawing some prospect of recovery and development planning.
parties that are required to sign this paper and commit to provide support, ideas and resources appropriate to the administration. On this basis we need to build organizational charts of the highest profile, they are able to ensure the achievement of these goals.
only way to end the crisis and strengthen a relationship with a city frustrated, tired, exhausted. Any suggestion otherwise would be suicide. The early elections would be a suicide in advance. The field would have to pull a postdated suicide.
In PD, as secretary and as a city councilor, along with my companions, I will try to work on this track. We hope to get something.

Jokes About Bell's Palsy

Gold of Napoli - eduardo de filippo - 'or raspberry

Dedicated to Richard Villari, chairman of the Securities and Rai, Nicholas Latorre, Senator of the Republic, and a hundred other subjects.

Kate Playground Hardcore?

Professor

Yesterday I was invited to give a speech in Naples at a conference on urban safety organized by IBM. After the debate I was overlooking the hotel's splendid terrace of Monte San Francesco Corso Vittorio Emanuele and I looked at the city. The sea was strong and seemed to want to climb the hill, the cruise ships were in port. Seemed to overcome the dock as to get in traffic. The machines throbbing in the queue and the city seemed alive.
On the terrace I was approached by a university professor, who in turn had taken action. We introduced ourselves and we chatted. "Our Naples retains its beauty - she said, adding his eye - at least as seen from here. There are huge potential. You could do a lot for development. But it would take ideas, projects, dedication. A capable and honest leadership. A body of social reasons. It should be just above the rigor and respect for the rules. "
I listened with interest to the professor. I agree with him and I came home refreshed. There was still, in this city so intense and ungrammatical, someone who had the right tension.
In the evening, I tried to google the name of the professor. I wanted to learn more. I discovered that in the late eighties and nineties has been in politics. E 'state councilor.
I read the account of the teacher-assessor, an article in the Corriere della Sera (31 March 1993, pages 7, Constantine Muscau author): "... he received 10 pounds for every pound of waste, spesso tossici, "importati" dalla Toscana e da Vicenza da ditte in mano a camorristi che utilizzavano autorizzazioni illegali rilasciate dallo stesso assessore e che a loro volta riscuotevano 15 lire a chilo per versare la "monnezza" nelle discariche. Un fiume imponente di miliardi puliti dalle pattumiere a cielo aperto, se si pensa che ogni mese venivano scaricate almeno 1800 tonnellate di rifiuti (…) All' origine di questo nuovo filone di tangentopoli, le confessioni di un pentito della camorra. Secondo il pentito le discariche nel Napoletano e in provincia di Caserta erano controllate dai boss dei Casalesi, Francesco Bidognetti (latitante) e Francesco Schiavone (gia' detenuto). Ai Casalesi, l' ex assessore avrebbe concesso autorizzazioni illegittime di importare rifiuti in Campania: una prima volta concedendo permessi che spettavano alla Regione; in secondo luogo compilando moduli fasulli. I trasportatori della Toscana e di Vicenza avevano cosi' via libera dietro pagamento di 25 lire al chilo (10 per l' assessore)».
Sono rimasto basito.
Non so come si sia evoluta la vicenda processuale. Non so se le accuse siano o meno state dimostrate. L’articolo, peraltro, parlava di una parziale ammissione dell’assessore. Ma mi interessa poco a questo punto. Quello che mi ha colpito è che lo sguardo di quell’uomo, le sue parole, i suoi ragionamenti, mi sembravano limpidi. E qui capisco che Napoli è una città senza difese. Il bene e il male si mescolano e ti confondono. The blob that comes out is a treacherous swamp, where each movement risks of reeling. The social body is corrupt, the elites are corroded, the policy is eating its own tail, and what you feel unworthy lights of innocence and what you feel clean, in fact, it's dirty inside. That is the truly insidious moral decay of Naples. There were evil on one side and the good from another, and we each choose to play the game. And we would take responsibility, merit, guilt. The fact, however, is that there are no horizons, there are no certainties, there are no cardinal points.
There is no compass, and this explains the drift.

On Period Use Baby Wipes

Cancer heart

Ida was my aunt. One of those aunts that fry everything and always give you something to eat. An aunt-mother. He wore a delicatessen and an aroma of fresh bread.
Pacific was also my uncle. He was true to its name. Mite. Shadow. I've seen recently.
Another uncle was Salvador, minute carpenter who had calloused hands and a quiet shyness. I just saw him too.
Mr. John, but I saw him once: he was the father of a dear friend and gave me the feeling of a strong and protective man. A little 'as Dr. Vincent, who I had in front of the benches of the City Council a decade ago. Rifondazione I, An him. Clashes beautiful content. Knowing smile. Respect for those who still have a value.
Ida, Pacific, Salvatore, Giovanni, Vincenzo have two things in common.
The first is that, in one way or another, have crossed my path.
The second is that these days have died of cancer. In a few months. They found the monkey rank from a stomach ache. " I feel disturbed, I have stomach pain, I'm not going to eat today .
Three weeks later they were underground.
There are private emotions in these stories: memories, words and photographs. Then there are emotions widened: the fear that could happen to others, the horror of being consumed in a flash. Then there is a suggestion of all: the tumor in the area north of Naples. Liver and lungs, the worst. There are studies showing that in some areas of Campania, in recent years, cancer has exploded like an epidemic. Higher rates than elsewhere in Italy. But even these figures do not say it all, at least for Giugliano.
If in three months, I lost three uncles (young people, all under 70 years) and two acquaintances, with the same disease and the same, lightning, and so all grown up and Mugnano Marano, if the limited circle of my friends and family has such a high percentage of deaths with fulminant liver cancer and lung cancer, what is sucking in other families of this area?
would be interesting to go and comb through and analyze scientific data, new ones in recent years. If it is granted to someone to make a really serious test. Now we are deprived of the opportunity to engage in any reasoning on the subject of waste. If you say a word, you branded as irresponsible, if you say two, you're protecting your garden, if you say three, you have interest to be covered, if you say four, the system will send him newspaper reporter, if you say five , take you to the police station.
But the confusion remains. They have militarized sites for landfill, are asbestos and bury him militarily, have left whole pieces of territory to the Camorra crime and, allowed the purulent infection of the plot between myopic individual and collective the minimum payment of interests and big. The Camorra has bought land to put toxic paints in the north, the generals arrive today, open dumps on the same land, we deposited the same toxic paints, legalization, and we say "where were you?" Without explaining where were they, with the badges and tanks. The farmers, possibly the same people who protest today, the fields are irrigated with leachate and brought us fruit and vegetables at the table, selling trucks that run on reassuring for the countries and I'll break the illusion of authenticity. "I come from China, is our stuff," say the voices from the megaphone of treruote.
We, meanwhile, we count the dead. And die each
days of pain to stay here. Powerless. To consumers in a new tumor, that to heart.

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Battery Chickens

few days ago I went to Capua. I made my way inside, one of landfills. I forded the circumvallazione and what I passed the junction of Casapesenna, Villa Literno I crossed, I deviated on purpose - extending - for San Cipriano d'Aversa, I touched Casal di Principe. Come back, I chose the coast. Castelvolturno, Ischitella, the swollen vein of Domitian.
I said to the police stop me. Or maybe the police. I shall check in the army.
Nothing. I have not met a single patrol anything. Manco a fireman (burning tires to ensure that there are, to hide the fireworks at ash and toxic paints).
I was expecting the spectacular response of the State in the field of war. I found the usual burning desert: that the field of dust, the houses low, those lumps of boys outside the circles to look around, the faces in the country bar, his eyes suddenly link you to understand who you are.
I found the usual, soft, air-blown. A
Casapesenna I stopped to take a coffee in a bar of course. I did look to me. I have served with a rough kindness. Someone has gone well to read the license plate, I saw from the bench. I did not do me no questions and they could have made. They are spun off.
The next evening I crossed the uneven wound that stretches between Melito and Secondigliano. Other climate: people, cars. Flocks of scooters to go around, to guard the entrances to the interior. Even here I have not seen divided, if not the hoodies and the writing NAPOLI which are now the uniform of "Guaglione and Mieze to VI." I read that in one of those alleys, at night, you can get some movement (I would not have passed), take out the guns and shoot at the knees of five children of 12, 13, 16.
(I wonder, however, what makes us children of twelve years, at midnight, in a circle of video poker and billiards. But these are trifles)
This morning I went to Market Poggioreale. Around the monumental cemetery of Naples were the barriers and a swarm of policemen. Two hundred yards away, a dozen illegal parking attendants who presided over a boulevard blocked by practicing price of one euro. In Caserta
I thought Maroni and The Russian, who after discussing for days if the facts of the Camorra are "gang war" or "civil war" have seen fit to leave, once again, the territory undefended and devoid of even minimal and symbolic presence of the state. Among
Melito Secondigliano and I thought of those establishment figures who run theaters for principals and reading Saviano like the Fifth Evangelist and then accept non-compliant rule a territory in which you do not even have title to turn freely on free roads. A
Poggioreale, I thought the legendary General Seeds: supercomandante local police of Naples, who took office a few weeks ago the cry of zero tolerance. Ruthless struggle to parking abuse. Two weeks, so long was the law. This morning the park go with the coffee brigades, kindly provided by the thermos from a lady who walked around the market with a carrellino dei viaggiatori della stazione, mettendoci sopra una bacinella con ghiaccio e bibite e tre scatole cave delle scarpe con ritz, patatine e cipster.
Tutto venduto a prezzo unico: due euro. Come in un film di Bellavista.
Guardo questa Napoli. La guardo tutta nella sua originale natura di area vasta che va dal mare al Matese. La guardo e poi leggo che il Governo ha fatto una sorta di legge speciale: chi deposita rifiuti ingombranti fuori posto - solo su questo territorio – rischia l’arresto e una pena detentiva da sei mesi a tre anni. «E’ la svolta», ha detto enfatico, sempre più telegenico, il prestigiatore Silvan Bertolaso.
Sorrido.
Mi chiedo chi farà rispettare questa legge. Mi chiedo chi la temerity. I wonder with what face can be an area where they shoot with impunity, breaks, destroys it, is robbery, he works in black, you steal, you sell the stolen then who is robbed, is falsified, it exerts a subtle , persistent, daily violence, talking about a new law that will shake the veins at the wrists to the citizens. For three days.
Then I think of this phrase of Tacitus: "The more corrupt a country is more and more ago."
And then I stop smiling and I think there is a political design. Years. A design to keep us here in the basement. To breed and then force our best young people to leave. To keep the worst and some old. Fueling this Italy uneven. We are the seedbed for the development of this country. We grow the talent but we play in series D. Who wants to play in the D series? None. The best they leave. If you did not live in the shit, he should not.
I think that's the plan: to build and maintain living conditions impossible, and force us to leave, one by one, on their terms, to feed their market and keep it alive, selecting, of course, on the titles and resistance, on values \u200b\u200band quality.
Naples must be unbearable and frightening, it must remain so. Why remain so - caught between fireworks, propaganda, global insecurity, poverty, degradation, claims that feed the empty - you would not feel the urge to go, at some point, go away.
The political plan is to use this land as farming, we are their battery chickens.

Masterbation & Lisbians

Anger

In Napoletano old who died defending the car robbery
dragged a hundred yards, found torn

(ANSA) - Naples, Oct. 23-Dead to defend 'car from a robbery: and' this is the case most 'likely to Cc Casoria to explain the death of Fortunato Montella. The old man was driving along the Circumvallazione when he slowed down, and 'was approached and it' got out of the car. When and 'realized what was going on and we 'cling to the car. E 'was dragged for a hundred meters: the body' was found torn, his face unrecognizable, a limb of a feet away.


news like this make me sick with rage and make me think that Naples and its metropolitan area there really is hope.

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Enough Saviano

hundred thousand people signed an online Appeal for Saviano. Also sign several Nobel laureates. Students aim to turn a purple ribbon to indicate their proximity to the writer threatened by the mafia. Does anyone dare to ask him for the Nobel Prize for Peace.
I think it is 're really exaggerating.
Anyone who knows me knows that I have an ancient and solid estimate for Roberto Saviano. He has close and long before his attentive admirer of success, when he was, like many of us, harassed and anxious, in the local press to propose pieces, case studies, stories. I have total admiration for Gomorrah, a book written well, I was never passionate disputes about fiction and reality, on the narrative, autobiography and journalism (a non-issue for literature). I've never beaten the scopiazzature (myself I recognized pieces of work) because I think that the news of all is that writing is unique and unrepeatable.
But I really think you're exaggerating. I always more the feeling - nasty - that Bob has become a reservoir from which to extract as much profit as possible, even if it means killing him to extreme erosion.
are trademarks around him who are killing and whether Casale were to commit what they promise, they, in my opinion, would be only the perpetrators. The moral principals would be found in the car fierce publishing business. So to say one of those things that nobody wants to hear. Politically incorrect. But it seems clear that Saviano is exposed beyond measure with the goal to get us the most from a commercial standpoint. No coincidence that the initiatives that inflate the balloon of the tam tam media always come from the same publishing group. Che lo mette in copertina. Che lancia appelli. Che lo manda a sfidare la camorra, sotto le telecamere. Che costruisce l’evento, lo vende, registra la reazione, e poi rilancia. Un meccanismo che mi fa orrore soprattutto perché si gioca sulla pelle di un uomo, che viene venduto ormai un tanto al respiro.
Ad ogni minaccia, la Mondadori fa una ristampa.
Chi conosce il libro sa che Gomorra non è la storia dei casalesi ma una narrazione sulla camorra, nel suo insieme. E che – oltre la straordinaria suggestione che lo anima e ne fa un capolavoro letterario – il libro documenta cose note, la cui rivelazione non crea alcun danno aggiunto alla criminalità. Chi conosce Gomorra sa che i casalesi occupano nel libro solo uno degli spazi. Then he speaks of the Di Lauro, the divisions, the Chinese, the Neapolitans, and many other faces. The threat of death, however, comes only from Casale. Why? Why are the fiercest? Maybe. But we must recall that Saviano was put to Commons until after the publication of the book, and even after the boom in publishing, but after his first appearance in Casal di Principe when he attended a political rally and called forcefully for the guys Casale to get rid of the "scum Camorra." An act of great courage. But that has little to do with literature. An act of civil power, which obviously was iperpompato the newspapers. The result was a challenge. And it was a challenge to jump on the chair Casale. Quell'impertinenza. The insult to the streets. From there it all came about. And from there he played a game to raise. The first threat. A new challenge media: an interview, an article. Another threat. Media remains a challenge: the presence at the trial, a reading public.
now the book has nothing to do nothing. It 's a lot of principle. And between the Camorra and a writer. But among the camorra and Saviano.
was the case from going so far? I think not. And I think it is a clear desire for commercial success. Not by Saviano. For those who know him know that it is culturally alien to any cult of self and success. But della infernale macchina editoriale che ha deciso di mungergli fino all’ultima goccia di latte. E allora Saviano va in tv a rincarare la dose, Saviano va in copertina sull’Espresso, Saviano finisce al centro di rivelazioni di pentiti che poi si rimangiano tutto, Saviano a Matrix, Saviano di nuovo in piazza a rilanciare la sfida. La tensione sale, le vendite si impennano. Saviano a Cannes. Saviano a Hollywood. Intanto la Mondadori ristampa, il gruppo Espresso-Repubblica, parallelamente, con una mano rilancia gli appelli e con l’altra pubblica, in esclusiva, il ringraziamento all’appello.
Franco Roberti, coordinatore della direzione distrettuale antimafia di Napoli, persona al di sopra di ogni sospetto per quanto riguarda la lotta crime, told with clarity and courage: "You do not need heroes or martyrs, but a serious political mafia that beyond the spectacle, as the exhibition of Saviano, give concrete answers to citizens in terms of law, economic development, security . Paradoxically
Saviano could become a fig leaf, one which covers the shame of an inactive state, which he copes with the solidarity of a political party and locked, that gets along with honorary citizenships, a society that is indifferent good and appeals only to sign, of an economic system and business community that gets along by giving a prize at Cannes, one in Hollywood, maybe the Nobel Prize and gaining profit, benefits, money (and that we care if we kill him, so he had to tell us we gave him).
Franco Roberti concluded thus: "we witness a spectacular unnecessary and harmful. Saviano is protected by the state. But we can not defy the danger hanging over him, literally grow unnecessarily. "
I make my own the words of Roberts and I say to Saviano, enough. You wrote an extraordinary book. You have contributed to knowledge. You did what a writer should do. You also did make money. That's enough. Stand back from the business, which is to get this really in danger.
The moral principals of those killers that I hope will consume impotence, have already set up for cover when he jumps in air, have a printed edition and one million copies in stores. I am ready to publish post-mortem collection of your articles to six euro and ninety in the Annex on Wednesday.
seems to me that you have already explained enough.
leave Saviano alone, to save it. This is the only appeal now to subscribe.

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The city upside

In the city upside down, it happens that the headquarters of Recami, a joint venture owned by the region, to catch on fire. And that should be destroyed in the flames with the folders in the records of recent years. The Recami is the company created with public funds to clean up polluted sites Campania. We employed 400 people, mostly former LSU stabilized. In reality they have nothing to do. The reclamation are not matches and they play cards. At the end take months salary. So take it as advisors and directors. Dozens of people with the license plate of the Party of origin. Democrats? No, left.
In the city upside down, the customers and those who do not expect.
La Digos di Napoli explores the Recami over the groove, it seems to be intentional. It took the gypsy. Documents are on fire of shame, as the tires are on fire to cover the median axis paints, furniture, rubble that are downloaded illegally on the roadside. As are on fire, in Asi di Giugliano, electrical wiring, burned by the Roma to get copper to sell. How should a fire, bridges, camps. How are the fire crackers exploding everywhere in the north to tell the toxic stuff that has come and that the squares are peddling to work.
In the city upside down, but lights the fire does not purify the balls of mud that explode in my chest every day.
Roberto Saviano was forced to live as a fugitive. Escapes. He hides. While the real fugitives, or prisoners to 41 bis, send faxes. Marano A, it is said that Lorenzo Cloud while he was hiding, he shaved every day in the country. In fact, they arrested him, after ten years at the head in his farm of Valais. Angelo's brother arrested him on the third floor of a building opposite the Town Hall. A Saviano not want to rent a house.
In the city upside down, no one writes on the walls that the Camorra is shit. But write that Saviano is a junkie. It 's the old law of the commons: strong with the weak (the law), weak with the strong (' or system). Fear? Not only that: it is the natural instinct to be a cattle wagon, and wink to the strongest, the most powerful. At the guide dog.
The city sits upside down on the toxic garbage. In the countryside there are drums, paints, and poisons. We put them on the Camorra, and nobody ever said anything. Fear? Not only that: is complacency with the devious criminal mentality that collects and shares. One hand washes the other. We have the ass of poison, but we never say anything.
If we did a march against the squares of the store in the city, the mayor would be there in the front row? Maybe I would say that the Camorra is not our business, not business administration: rule but not against the Camorra, in spite of the Camorra. "
We've heard that too. The city upside down like sophistry, not a breath of courage.
And it would take the fire for real. Not the one to watch that will yield benefits. But what of Nero, which shaves the ground. But the city has upset its balance: it is used in the evening to pull un sospiro e a pregare la madonna di pompei. Si vive alla giornata. Oggi è andata bene. E sabato c’è la Juve. Buffon non gioca e secondo me glieli diamo due palloni.
Forza Lavezzi, che ce ne fotte.

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A disappointing conclusion

Questa sera c'è una seduta di Consiglio comunale a Marano (di cui faccio parte). Si chiuderà ufficialmente la verifica politica avviata qualche mese fa. Il sindaco comunicherà la "nuova" giunta. Ho raccontato, in più momenti, l'andamento della verifica e mi sembra giusto dare conto delle sue conclusioni. Che sono - lo dico subito - sconfortanti.
Avevo sperato che dalla verifica uscissero due cose: 1) la presa di coscienza di una situazione amministrativa drammatica, with a city that has too many open questions and unsolved, and a citizenry that lives in a state of suffering which is not longer remain deaf, 2) a total renovation, methods and men, which would allow the administration to be more effective and ready to than it was in the first two and a half years. Unfortunately
verification ends without any of the two objectives has been achieved. This is for me a source of enormous bitterness. I wonder how they can be so blind not to see the condition of the city and so glued to their personal interests to totally lose sight of the needs of the people.
The mayor has decided to confirm most of the outgoing commissioners. There remain two out (paradoxically the best) to be replaced by two technicians who will oversee the dreaded landfill in the quarries.
I wonder how can a team that did not match the first two and a half years, producing them in the next two and a half.
I wonder how can a mayor, who did not have the strength to choose its delegates, to be able to guide and direct administrative decisions.
I wonder how can a majority twisted arrogance of numbers and unable to take a step back for the common good, to ensure Marano problem solving and the citizens of the design of a hope. Esco
really disheartened by this time. I, with others, worked hard to make it clear to those who matter that it was time make an effort, a sacrifice for the good of the people, of our people. It was time to give a strong signal to recover credibility and to show that there are still those in the farcical theater hours tragic hours of politics, is still a bit 'of space to invest in solving problems.
do not know, frankly, at this point that political stance to take. I do not mean as much to personal choices, those are easy. You may resign, as some ask me. You can switch to the opposition, as I ask others. You may have a critical internal or assume direct responsibility.
But my personal choice, as it is, moves very little. The problem is
la direzione collettiva da prendere, e cosa augurarsi per il futuro di Marano.
Quest'amministrazione sembra ormai fuori gioco rispetto ai bisogni della città. Eppure un commissariamento aggraverebbe la situazione. Dalle elezioni anticipate non so che quadro uscirebbe, visto che il personale politico in campo è sempre lo stesso, gli elettori vanno a votare ormai da anni sempre gli stessi e il rischio che si possa addirittura arretrare è più che concreto.
Insomma, mi sembra davvero una situazione senza sbocco. E il rammarico per la mancanza di coraggio , di dignità politica, di lungimiranza, di una minima morale della responsabilità da parte di chi ha ruolo e redini, cresce e mi deprime di più.

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(my reading) The memory of the living

Lena has before him a brilliant academic career but leaves everything to assist her husband very ill. Silvana lives of odd jobs, has a close working-class husband and has built more out of habit than love, a family classic, but always feeling the hidden competition with her sister Carmen, who lives in Milan, is an actress in theater and, in fund, is no longer happy with her. Nice is in the remarriage of the elderly father, a widower who marries a new partner here and he realizes (and finds the courage to say) that his marriage has dried up as a forgotten fruit.
Three stories, three women, the melancholy and the pursuit of happiness.
Milo Ross's new book (The memory of the living, Einaudi) returns to move, as the prececente (Take care of the girls, Avagliano, 2006), a double speed: the short story of the slow and intimate history. It designs, with great efficiency, a beautiful portrait of the women with certain personality and brittle, concrete and dreaming.
The book I liked very much. The first story we read in one go and I must say, I took the head. As a man, I saw women. And I saw me as a man with women. And I was, finally, a little 'ridiculous. In addition to essential, as they to us.
The three stories have a balance between them, a better measure, it seems that the three women have one breath. There are scenes that will remain on him. Small images. Flash. The writing is clear, measured with a vein of irony and warm light. The stories are plausible, there are those that run around, maybe a little 'gray but common. These are things of common life. And then there's that peeps Naples, the sea, we are there. Recognizable and true.


The memory of the living
Milo Ross
Price € 12.00
2008, 159 p., paperback Publisher
Einaudi (necklace Archipelago Einaudi )

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Circus Naples

In a city upside down, are arrested a councilor of the center and a councilor of the center for having organized, together, violent popular uprising against a decision which had helped to take the same town to which they belong.
George Nugnes is a councilor of the junta Iervolino in Pd share, from Margaret. Former city councilor, is a record holder of preference to the Plain, fireworks flegreo district. Marco Nonno is a city councilor An, also elected him to the Plain. The two, in this quarter, contributed to foment the sort of popular uprising against the reopening of the landfill Pisani, a decision was taken by police to waste and that the Jervolino , As is his wont, responded positively to the first, then said no, then said I had nothing to do, then threatened to sue those who were hesitant to define permit.
Police this morning arrested Nugnes and Grandpa, along with dozens of other people. One is under house arrest, the other is even Poggioreale.
I read the news and I am perplexed and I am convinced more and more that Naples is a huge theater of the absurd. I can not express an opinion, I fixed on emotion rather stunning. There seem to overcome all differences. PD, An, the ultras, the institutions, the rule of law, law enforcement, what is right, what is wrong, who is with whom. Not
we understand nothing.
The other day, the deputy prefect Gianni De Gennaro waste when he was commissioner, was arrested because he was giving false invoices from a restaurant to cook the reimbursements.
But how? A senior executive of the state, who comes to Naples to solve the waste crisis, it becomes a chicken thief? Meanwhile, Berlusconi and
Bertolaso \u200b\u200band General Giannini tell people Chiaiano and Marano, "Trust in the state and institutions."
But who?
I have a feeling that we are coming to the big bang. I do not know what this city - and its metropolitan area - can stand still. We are immersed in a gelatinous blob : legality and illegality are mixed together, institutions and antagonism are mixed, social cohesion remains fragile on the pillars of opportunism and speed of movement between one bank and another.
Tolerance thousand in underbelly.
There are no reference points. There are no more guilty. There are almost even more blame. You do not understand the beginning. You do not see the end. Politicians are like shit, let's face it. The people, as well. Let us tell that too. Businesses, the middle class professions, do not talk about. The newspapers, fintomoralisti directors, writers, aesthetes. All
a shit? But yes ... all the shit.
whatever? Yes, a whole shit.
What's the answer?
Boh.
Naples looks like a circus without animals, one of those booths with the dull-eaters, with a juggler, with trapeze, clowns and the fat lady. An absent-minded circus set up in a wild meadow. One of those in the suburbs. Shabby, with a tent full of patches, which is about to fall. Deprived of a circus that angers you the most.
only makes you sad.
I've lived in as a wanderer who does not know where to go.

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Hope

returned to the theme of City of Marano, of which, remember, I am part because the municipal council of the majority.

Yesterday morning, a gentle Councillor opposition has decided to report to Council, some excerpts of my blog post. I'm glad you follow me and I say hello. His quote, however, was incomplete. Reported steps in which I described the situation very difficult situation in terms of cities, but not those in which the prospects hope and a proposal.

Hope and the proposal, within me, I'm still alive.

I think we can still give the city a chance of coming out of the Marano. The situation is not simple: Just take a ride into town to see that. Local problems are added overheads. The harsh economic situation, the burden on households and consumption, and rampant crime, which restricts the space of civil life, the landfill issue that casts a dark shadow on the future of the territory.

when situations are complex, you have to pull out of courage and responsibility.

A group of us (PD, PRC and other advisers for the majority) has asked the mayor to make a renewal in the form of government and in men, to find the reasons and try to hit any target.

We did not ask the revolution: we know too well that those who ask do not get anything. In life as in politics. We asked for some small sign of renewal. The parties were to lose a few small pezzo di potere e si sarebbe dovuto introdurre nella giunta qualche soggetto nuovo, più motivato, più competente ed esperto.

Tutto qui.

Un gruppo politico della maggioranza, però, ha detto no. Il centro democratico, emanazione di De Mita, che conta ben 11 consiglieri, ha detto che i suoi 5 assessori non si cambiano. Secondo loro hanno lavorato bene. E non si toccano. Tra loro c'è anche l'assessore alla viabilità.

Il sindaco, consapevole che il cambiamento è necessario, ha provato a forzare la mano: ha tolto un assessore al Pd, uno al Prc, uno al Centro democratico e ha messo tre tecnici, provando con questi a realizzare un cambio di passo.

Il Pd ha detto va bene, il Prc ha detto va bene: hanno accettato per il bene della città.

Il Centro democratico ha detto no!

Il Consiglio comunale si è sostanzialmente chiuso con un nulla di fatto. C'è un'altra seduta domani e un'altra ancora il 13 ottobre. Questa sarà quella importante. Si voterà una manovra di bilancio: se viene bocciata, il Consiglio si scioglie e si va alle elezioni anticipate. Sembra di capire che se il Sindaco non obbedisce al diktat del Centro democratico, di considerare intoccabili i loro 5 assessori nonostante le condizioni della città, l'amministrazione verrà sfiduciata e si andrà al commissariamento.

I am baffled by this position, which I consider absurd and full of even a degree of stupidity.

But how can you not see that the situation is such that in a city or proceed to a renewal or not really makes more sense to stand?

But how do you not understand that this is the time when the parties must give a little '(not much, a little) power engineers and experts in order to straighten it for what it is possible route?

But how do you quit so obstinate about their interests and not see the application for renewal that comes from the people and their challenges the major parties, top-rated, from which those voters, having won so much, you expect more?

I - as they say in Naples - I will not be able to. See the Centre as a political force to be ready to smash the democratic administration, to get to the commissioners, to reduce the city to a battlefield (because after a traumatic dissolution of political relations would be destroyed and leave resentment and opposition for years) leaves me speechless.

I wonder if there is still an ethic of responsibility, or even just a little common sense.

I wonder what, at this point, the expression politics and do what they think of those who say they do politics in these territories.

For my part I guarantee and warrant to the mayor's full support in his attempt to renewal. At this point even his mediation, his attempt to mix political and technical, can go in the attic. The best thing is to just come up a technical expert, competent, high-profile and committed to this team some strategic objectives: traffic, parking, recycling, recovery of cultural life, maintenance and some public work.

Mayor present his project to the city and experts called to make. Then ask the trust to the Council on the basis of things to do. Who's offering hope to the city. Who is there, it kills hope. Even his (but does not know).

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Who wants to be stronger than everything, even reason. Letter to Morgan

Last night, during the La7 transmission The infidel, Gad Lerner has projected a video indignant that I already had its first broadcast on YouTube, as usual, preceded the Media ( which, however, have not spent a lot of words, apart from the usual suspects). This is a performance of Gentilini (giullaresco the first citizen of the city of Treviso) about immigrants. But beyond the video itself (disturbing, in addition to the obvious and unpunished racist position for a not too veiled apologia for fascism ), I believe that any discussions should be made on these words:

" What I say is the sum of what I say citizens. I am a big megaphone. I'm not afraid of anyone and say what I want."

a closer look is a summary of the entire political strategy current government that takes the most common clichés and makes it a bulwark in support of decree-laws (and alleged designs law) that pass under the nose of a center-left helpless, almost totally dormant and lost utopia of a dialogue both impossible and unnecessary.

Meanwhile, the champions of the Government approach the people, they acquire fears, stereotypes, prejudices ... and acting as spokesmen for credit as desired by the Italians "unconstitutional political maneuvers, often, even without specific reaffirm the usefulness ad personam, not of ethics and respect for all humanity.

So, with no other logical explanation except to satisfy a modus pensandi variously expanded, not action, for example, with serious modernization programs work processes based on merit, but it feeds the ' hate / bitterness towards the manager of the worker. A little 'as Alitalia : pilots and flight attendants bad, bad, overpaid workers who do not understand the needs of those eight hundred euro also guaranteed, and that allow cry in defense of their rights: better to fail in the hands of parties! ingrates, incapable of giving an appropriate value to the nights spent by the President to weave an Italian consortium. observers does not build multi-ethnic, not setting a network of intercultural mediation or a maneuver that uses entrepreneurship control of black labor (for color and mode) but pursued immigrants who are already here - and no matter if we end up in the cauldron also Italian citizens not "Aryan." Or if we beat the dead . does not (before) a serious program of education of Zingarelli, but puts them in a row (so you know that your children are not in every sense, are more like the future criminals of tomorrow!) and take their fingerprints. Meanwhile, the document control of children accompanying adults in the Italian airports is pretty ridiculous, if a child during school hours you will be begging on the street is "normal." It sponsors paths of cultural integration and religious , but prevents the prayer to Muslims, who in mosques plot against the state and against the security of the Italians.

The gospel, all of a sudden, another theologian: the politician. So even Jesus Christ becomes the means to validate racist and sometimes ruthless. I've seen commodified on several occasions, but as the face of a racist policy, I, Christ I did not imagine at all. There will be so far away are the days when I attended catechism but I seem to remember that values \u200b\u200bsuch as acceptance, equality, fraternity ... I siano stati insegnati come inderogabili e non diversamente interpretabili rispetto al senso letterario. Ma anche in questo, la risposta del Governo è perfettamente coerente con la cristianità italica fatta di strani miscugli di modi d'intendere casalingo. E la Montagna più che da Maometto va dal suo Cristo.

Per la prima volta, in un Paese democratico e civile, i pregiudizi , anziché essere corretti, trovano un saldo appiglio governativo e diventano veicolo di trasmissione di una strategia ad personam , in un bizzarro do ut des . Tutto ciò è angosciante, tanto quanto l'immagine che ci viene prospettata della maggioranza degli italiani dipinta come un popolo (quello della libertà!) che trascorre i suoi giorni e le sue notti nella fervida attesa che il Suo Presidente venga liberato dai problemi giudiziari che lo affliggono, ché il pover'uomo non può sapientemente guidare il Paese se ogni tre per due qualcuno bussa alla porta per consegnargli un avviso di garanzia! Roba che spezza ogni "core de mamma".

In questo marasma si perde facilmente di vista l'obiettivo e si devia da ogni singolo problema reale , liquidandolo dietro una serie di discussioni sterili. Ammantandolo. Facendogli perdere la sua gravità. E tutto ciò è tanto più pericoloso se si considera che, dopo mesi di dialogo inseguito, l'unico scambio che emerge è il ridicolo “tu sei incapace e tu sei più incapace di me”. Ma in tale ottica l'unità di misura del politico italiano non è “l'incapacità”?

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2008, flight from Campania

CASERTA - The nine white vans without rear seats, the lights at eleven o'clock at night. The men, squatting on the sheet, now we all are. In the square outside the highway to Caserta Nord, the women end up in the darkness to deliver the luggage for the week. A bag green head: seven beers and sandwiches with bacon, burnt because it retains. It seems all but ready and waiting for the caravan of new immigrants in the warm rain. Eighty-five not all have money. Children who bring cigarettes they want it now. Then the first Duchy, without any regards, it moves. The poor who leave every night from Campania, in the hundreds, reading cards with the address of factories and construction sites in Northern Ireland. Twenty euro per day, in black. Less of the African immigrants, or Eastern, that sew leather and cloth halls abusive Casal di Principe. If there is no work, nothing. "Climb" but it is a luxury. Those who "go away", who "worked up," buy the right to believe in something unexpected. "The marginal underclass - says John Laino, English Association Quarters of Naples - has become a collective destiny. There are more cases of redemption, poverty has become a heritage and legacy of generations". The failure policy, local and national, is this explosive social paralysis. Unthinkable for new Italian immigrants, pay rent, or move the family. They eat and sleep in vans. A week of hard work and a day of sleep, the only home, before returning to the exit. The other, thousands, are fleeing from poverty in the train. The wagons of the night without sleeping berths, end to fill in Naples. Young, full of plastic bags and babies, reach relatives in Bologna, Padua and Milan. Over forty years, however, are commuters. Waiters, laborers, drivers, laborers, soldiers from dawn to night to Rome, Florence, Bologna, Marche.
The South, in order to survive, after half a century defers running. The "renaissance field" is finished. In one year, from south to north, have migrated to 120 000. Fifty thousand only from Campania plus 65 000 26 000 commuters and emigrants abroad finished. Naples in 2007, has lost 14 percent of population. In the rest of the country few realize it. No one talks about. But the impressive mass of poor, mostly invisible to the statistics, is growing and frightening. "Most of the waste - says sociologist John Sgritta - most of the hooligans, the Roma or immigrants." Who is no alternative. Concept, Giugliano, raises six children in a room twelve feet square, without a floor and no plaster. He twenty-two years and managed to finish primary school. When everyone is in bed for a few hours ago into who pays it. Antonio, in June, has lost his pizzeria Mondragone. Strangled by the loan, has not paid the rate which the all'usuraio sent his bank. "He was a friend - he says - to punish me rape his wife of fifty years." It is in this wilderness that the state over the Campania to the "System". The Camorra is fed vacuum. Acerra, to give a lesson to children who did not want to become "poles" in a night made saw benches, trees and lamp posts. A Benevento stop stealing old cans at the supermarket. Or pay half, or the food is seized. "Now - says Gaetano Romano, director of Caritas bell - the only crime he has money to invest and work to offer. The region is transformed into a holding company Camorra. Thousands of parents, these days, they could buy school books due to the drug dealers. For the first time the weariness of the poor, the anger of the concentration of immigrants and criminals, create a push shoreless. So, Naples and Campania, in the abyss of racism. "There is unfortunately an emergency. It is, however, the new generation: the poor of the South, rapidly growing in Italy are no longer an issue and no public moves in front at the outbreak of their despair. Decades of alarms, magnified to cash in, and now that the tide rises really rotten in racism, mind you no one there. "The poor are anonymous and tiring - he says his father Antonio Hurtado Valletti in the center of escape - and make us ashamed. For the country are no longer an item of expenditure. Approval imposes an intervention. Advertising, public lady, do not like: on TV, do not exist. So the policy has no interest to extend the space of their rights. We must acknowledge that we are the Africa of Europe with more dignity and less violence. "The numbers confirm this. Campania is now the European region with the highest concentration of poor families, unemployed, women who do not work and age in poverty. Just under 2 million in the region, only 240 000 in Naples. Nearly one in three has no need for survival. Two su dieci non mangiano più di tre volte alla settimana. Otto su dieci non possono pagare l'affitto. I disoccupati sfiorano il 40 per cento. Tra chi lavora, due su dieci guadagna meno di mille euro al mese, uno su dieci meno di 500. Oltre la metà dei residenti accumula almeno 200 euro di debiti al mese. Il pil pro capite è di 16 mila euro all'anno, contro i 33 mila della Lombardia. Un contratto su due è a termine. La dispersione scolastica è del 45 per cento. Tra le 80 regioni europee più arretrate, occupa la posizione numero 68. I poveri, nel Meridione, sono ormai poco meno di 6 milioni. "L'agghiacciante verità taciuta - dice Luigi Tamburro, presidente del banco alimentare di Caserta, il più grande d'Italia - è che migliaia people and children are now hungry. The company's competitiveness, based on consumption, has exhausted its reservoir of humanity. Are we alone in front of an Italian tragedy of which ignores the danger. "Hundreds of debates, political, historical and literary rhetoric about the" southern question ", no real help. Italy, with Greece, is the only European nation not have a plan to combat poverty. The only one to have removed all support. did the money for the check, € 350 per month, of the Campania Region. The annual report of the Commission against social exclusion, ignored. The new government has never even met. This is the day of San Gennaro, patron saint of Naples, the table on the Piazza del Carmine bursts. In a row between the elderly and immigrants, including parents and children. They speak of the massacre of Africans in the night to Castelvolturno. They condemn the revolt against the killings of immigrants. "This time - says Gary, who is unemployed with two children in her arms - the Casalesi have done well. Negroes were punished: they steal jobs and we end up eating the priests." A new war, not only among the poor, but between them and the crime that defeated the state must defend itself from the revolt of their killers, or new competitors. "The Campania - says Alex Zanotelli, a missionary of Health - is no longer a significant reservoir of slaves to the North. The country has chosen and Muslims neri, per pagare ancora meno la mano d'opera clandestina e ammorbidire l'islam. Lo scontro esplode qui: italiani poveri contro stranieri poveri. Vincono i secondi, perché la Campania ormai è la piattaforma logistica per le scorie non smaltibili dell'Europa. Solo un africano accetta di vivere in una discarica e riconosce l'affare spietato tra politica e criminalità, il patto massone per la "somalizzazione" del Sud. Lo Stato ci mette terra, uomini e miseria, la camorra soldi e controllo. Non si capisce che siamo prossimi all'esplosione. Chi può scappa: nelle strade si agita una massa di disperati che non ha più nulla da perdere". Dopo trent'anni di rifiuti tossici che hanno distrutto l'agricoltura, qui si aspettavano i soldati per reclaim the land. Instead, the military arrive to oversee new landfills and new incinerators. "The symbolic image - says Maurizio Braucci among the writers of" Gomorrah "- is to Ponticelli. A crowd of poor, ragged and dirty, hidden behind mountains of garbage, that stone families of gypsies on the run. It is the symbol of Campania, but also the country that has chosen the militarization of society. Indifferenti evidence of the scandal, because the mediators of the poverty they live in fear, because those who have voice and power belongs to the system that transforms the chronic emergency in poverty " . Yet Italy in recession, which denies or minimizes, which overflows with this misery must come to terms. The abyss is not built more extreme cases, but normal. Lucia, in Sant'Angelo dei Lombardi, collects a monthly pension of 580 €. It spends 360 rent and 100 to help the child who is unemployed. "For food, bills, medicine and clothes - he says - I still have 4 € a day." Aversa dozens of children go to school Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday working for the crime: 50 € per day, to pay for room and board in the family. "The country - says Father Luigi Merola, a former parish priest in Forcella, forced to leave for the death threats and today under guard - not surrender to poverty. Cut funding to education, pretending that employment is a question of market , condemning the poor delinquency. The acceleration of drift in the southern Campania and misery in the sight of all, is appalling. If you do not become the central problem of the country, federalism will result in a de facto division northerner. The only army in the South was afraid of was that the teachers take them to target the consensus is to admit through the control of the Camorra. "The people, apathetic made by a history of bullying and humiliation, is shaken by a new fear." Even solidarity - the sociologist says Enrica Morlicchio - is exhausted. Cities and towns are in the hands of usurers, who launder money by blackmailing the poor. The houses in Campania are stores of weapons and drugs: the only source of income also for decent families. "consoles in living rooms you remember the misery of war. But now the spectrum has a specific profile," the assault to the furnaces, "the revolt of the poor against the state absent ignore them." The government - Brick says Antonio community of Sant'Egidio - no longer fight against poverty, but against the poor. The violence this year in Naples, against the landfill, anti-Roma and anti-immigrant, has been rewarded. The lesson is simple: if it is filmed by television, according to electoral opportunities, the violence of the square decide. A short civil in Campania can overwhelm everyone. The poor now are the majority, do not respond to anyone, they begin to join. The South in poverty, based on migrants, immigrants and criminals, is wiping out the political hostage of finance: Italy is in danger of losing the trust is not in the shot, but in democracy. "As the Navy. For thirty years living in a basement Villa Literno thanks to 600 € granted to children suffering from encephalitis. It is midday and the eldest son, who is unemployed, sleeping before the fire off. The other daughter, separated, now has no food for three children. Tonight have taken while he was about to jump from the balcony in the alley. "If the assist - he says - I can not work. If I work, I lose the right to his check. "A fracture history, breaking the link between poverty, power and favor. Thousands of ghosts, in Campania, wonder what that means, if you still have a value, to be free. "The dark is cutting the country - says Marco Rossi Doria, master of the road - is the end of the interest of policy for those who need justice. Dell'Italietta cowardice, the collective removal of poverty, enables institutions to compare exclusively with the economy. The cuts to the school, which pushed back the children of the South in the streets, are the symbol of a final sentence to the Mafia. This particular ferocity against the poor, with the weapon of education denied in the name of rigor, is the go-ahead for public crime. " No one in Campania, welfarism relies on the patronage of the failed past. In a land divided between flight and war, there is shame, however, more to launch a "national alarm over the poor." "Every week - says the sociologist Henry Rebeggiani - there are hundreds of single women. It had never happened. The region, like the rest of the South, is emptied of enterprising young people. Politics is reduced to recruiting arrogant leader of rebellions multiplied possible: usually happens when authoritarian regimes are bound to fall ". For this reason, deal with change with the emergency which calls upon the army, police and patrols, increases the retreat. "The country - says Andrea Morniroli cooperative Dedalus - must recognize a new responsibility to the poor. Sacrificing the Campania and the south against the paranoia of the left Berlusconi, not only legitimizes the corruption of power distracts a social conscience and drag Italy out of poverty armed regional and national culture of backwardness. "Ante saecula In via S. Maria 109, district in Naples Health gray house of Toto, closed and almost impossible to find, is abandoned. It seems to collapse. In the "low" have opened a workshop abusive. The city had promised the world a museum. It was sold to an anonymous private. A policeman pulls a sheet blue, hung out to dry by house opposite. It also covers the plate, dirty and unreadable. Maybe it clear who, in anticipation of a tragedy, made them laugh. And it was mistaken for a comedian.

(giampaolo fresh faces, repubblica.it)

Angel Lola Luv Freeones

(My reads) The perfect city, a novel imperfect

the perfect city Angelo Petrella is a long and nervous romance set in the nineties, in Naples, a city that is present in the evocative language and yet lacking in substance. Three characters (a cop, a student, a drug dealer) are chasing each other, sometimes crossing, in a carousel of crime, riots, boiling, various decay. Ultras, the Camorra, pusher, killer. Students antagonists that slip from employment to subversion. Corrupt cops and cocaine addicts, secret service men (corrupt) politicians (corrupt), principals (corrupt), workers (fools).
The picture is bleak: no difference, everything is held. The Camorra organized supporters' groups enter, the policemen alternate service to the Law and the bosses, students buy weapons to fight the Camorra a "system", which is not the crime but that of the State, which does not seem so different, for methods, morality, goals.
Cocaine and drugs as if it rains, murder victims, sometimes mixing some 'pull (the young daughter of the headmaster of the Genoese woman who becomes the mistress of the Camorra policeman and a sorceress and a cocaine trafficker in arms with the willingness of the father, who wants to make the commissioner by order of the Camorra: well).
All written with a dirty language, a slang, a dialect of Italian reconstructed from fragments and curses and clichés and interlayer. Each of the three characters is told in first person, changing, though, just his way of speaking. Mark then, student or cop or drug dealer, the language is at the bottom. The voice of the street. As the unwinding of a long chat.
The book seemed perfect. Its strengths are the good plot and action moving forward. We see that Petrella handling skills with the tools of the thrilling, seeding tracks and then collects, holds good rhythm. But the story, frankly, it seems forced. The points of inconsistency are many, there is no internal consistency to the characters and their plot, il linguaggio mi ha infastidito, la storia, in alcuni passaggi, mi è sembrata poco plausibile. Mi sono chiesto, alla fine, se riconoscevo nel libro la Napoli degli anni Novanta, quella che io ho vissuto e che ricordo bene.
Mi sono risposto di no.
Perfetta o imperfetta, nel romanzo di Petrella la città vera non c’è.


Titolo La città perfetta
Autore Angelo Petrella
Prezzo € 17,60
2008, 507 p., rilegato
Editore Garzanti (collana Narratori moderni)

Blocked Nose And Guitar

A real turning point for the 'Administration Marano

E’ un po’ che non aggiorno il mio blog. Succede di inciampare in un periodo senza parole. Forse è talmente troppo quello che si agita intorno. Perhaps it is so repetitive and hopeless at times to stop, and then reflect, and then organize your thoughts, and then say something sensible, it becomes difficult.
After all, the silence has its own dignity.
interrupts him to say something about each other a very "local " which may seem out of tune on an instrument like this "global " but which, even in the vortex of the territorial network, is a logic.
I speak of Marano, the city where I live. And speaking of municipal government, of which I am being part of City Council majority, as well as secretary of the Democratic Party.
We are in the city government for two years. We combined little. I would say anything but I refrain. I think, as a citizen, I can say that Marano has moved back over two years ago. Some services have disappeared (Napolipass subsidized subscriptions, introduction to sports for children at risk, social gardens), public works are a distant memory (there is nothing in the race and then nothing will be seen in 2008 and 2009), efforts to Culture and leisure do not see more (film Siani, thick at the expense of the City, is limited to project a movie in the desert summer Marano, after fifteen years, is gone), traffic, mobility, livability are levels of nervous breakdown. Legality is an abstract concept: the boys on scooters do not wear helmets, dealers have put the goods on the sidewalks, political parties, committees, associations attack posters on bus shelters and on the walls of the buildings and not in the spaces provided (there were years that did not happen).
All this is visible to everyone. Even that is not seen, not better. The local machine is in disarray, the facilities owned by the city are handled by private treaty, without competition, to individuals who do not pay no rent or utilities or maintenance but derive revenue from the management of spaces (straight sports bar) with no guarantee, sometimes in the absence of regulation, adequate social fallout and good management, the situation financial contribution is exhausted. There is no money in cash because the current expenditure exceeds revenue. And the outlook is even worse because they are at the gates to millions of euro debts inherited from the past that if you put them all together in payment, would lead to the crack.
Faced with a situation of such complexity, a group of us counselors majority has put forward a proposal for change. A proposal for common sense. We said that in two years if he had not accomplished anything, it was necessary to introduce changes to restore confidence and hope to achieve some results.
We also said what were the necessary changes: a new program, a new method of management, new men, with more powers and motivation.
A proposal - I repeat - of common sense, that left a clear discomfort at all and the need of all, to organize a more efficient administration.
After the proposal we made all the necessary steps, putting the inevitable, exhausting assembly of political negotiation. We requested and obtained by zeroing Mayor of the City Council, preparatory to its renewal, we have worked on a paper together, we built more meetings in an attempt to broker an agreement.
I must say that after several days of arduous debate, today we are at a decisive point. We have two front
strade: una porta al rinnovamento, un’altra all’immobilismo. Quella del rinnovamento prevede un atto di forza del sindaco e gesti di responsabilità delle forze politiche. Il primo cittadino deve avere il coraggio di costruire una giunta comunale con assessori competenti, motivati, di sua fiducia, capaci di governare la città. Le forze politiche devono avere il coraggio di fare un passo indietro e indicare al sindaco nomi nuovi, rinnovati, con nuove motivazioni, più competenza, più idee e più voglia di fare.
La città non può più aspettare.
Io spero che il sindaco da una parte e le forze politiche dall’altra abbiano la maturità di cogliere la drammaticità del momento e la necessità, mandatory set of choices.
If someone asks me, though, if they are optimistic about the success of the event, I am forced to say no. I move, in the final hours, the temptation of easy choices. Political parties want change but do not want others to question themselves. No one wants to move his. Everyone wants to change both the other, with the result, of course, that nothing can change.
The mayor, on his behalf, has the power conferred on him by law, to act with authority and still build an addition of value, irrespective of the wishes of political parties. You may exercise this prerogative in the name of public good and needs the city of being well governed. Would gain in political stature, and in authority, efficiency. And I believe there are any political conditions that they may be others to follow him.
Again, unfortunately, are pessimistic. I feel tempted to leave the air all the same, to restore the old pattern and make, essentially, ignore it.
I do not know how it will end. I know, however, that there is a need - and there are all conditions - to produce a significant change of pace.
If it does not happen, the political forces (including those who say they want change but then did not act to cause it), about who governs them from e dall’esterno, e sul capo dell’amministrazione, cadrebbe la responsabilità dello sfascio.
Nessuno, un giorno, potrà dire “io non c’entro”.
Nemmeno io, purtroppo, che pure sto lottando, con i miei compagni di partito, per una svolta vera.

Gold Metal Core Scooter Wheels

The long list of delights

Si sta facendo un gran parlare dell'intervento di Roberto Saviano al Festival della letteratura di Mantova. Le cronache ci raccontano di un Saviano teso ed efficace, in jeans e camicia bianca, col microfono stretto nel pugno come i rapper, che emoziona la platea con un lungo racconto sul sé stesso "recluso" nella libertà di parola.
We talk about fear. Of what are you and what you do. Saviano of fear makes it so much because his words come. And we're with him because, probably unwillingly, has become a symbol in some way as sacrificial for all symbols of a battle that seems impossible.
Saviano also spoke of newspapers. He shows a few titles released on Chronicles of Naples and Caserta Courier, two newspapers who live in Campania crime. "Don Peppe Diana was a Camorra," as one headline of the two newspapers shortly after the death of the priest, taking up and quotes a phrase from a turncoat. And then another. To get to say that these areas exist on a sort of "release of respect", that casts eye to the Camorra and achieves a nearly contiguous.
I have not had the opportunity to hear directly the involvement of Saviano a Mantova. I know that the news coverage, the need for synthesis, sometimes force the thoughts and simplify concepts articulated. But if Robert wanted to say that these papers are in collusion with organized crime, I disagree.
know the rituals of the crime. I made it for many years. The language is essential, we dig in the dynamics, we recall the nicknames, the links, they look behind the scenes, they tell the details, rebuild alliances and feuds.
You put your ear to the ground, of course. There is limited to tissue law enforcement or the Note of the Public Prosecutor. He also lives down the alley. You live and you live to blow the clan. A great
nerista Morning, Enzo Perez, when he walked to Naples was regarded with respect by Guaglione Camorra. He had an association with those environments, could penetrate the pall of suspicion and this came up when a crime was done to give the identity of the murdered man and was able to frame the already done. Then he recounted. Carefully move because he knew. But with all the possible balance. The
nerista so. A hound that is the tightrope walker. A tightrope nosy a bit 'cop, a little' Camorra.
I must say that our colleagues in the Chronicles of Naples (I do not know what Caserta) carry this insidious and difficult job with skill. They built a log on all black. Are read by the protagonists of their pieces. And why are not identified and protected. Write about the Camorra, to be read by the people that the Camorra looks with a hint of admiration. Reports should be strong in the clubs, bars, in arcades. The attraction is the "capuzzelle": Reports publishes the photo ID of all detainees. And in districts and countries where the Neapolitan pass, as they Panini, to recognize, and perhaps identify with.
And 'course, looking at that market share, it chronicles the calculator language, style, and go find the textures, background. Sometimes also a bit of mythologizing.
The point is: Chronicles becomes a megaphone and a tool of the Camorra, perhaps unwittingly?
The risk is real. But no more than it is in the newspapers and political parties over economic ones in relation to the powers and those from the great cultural imprints.
It 's a problem of measurement.
E 'Chronicles of Naples that the Camorra uses or uses that chronicles the Camorra in Naples?
I believe the first hypothesis.

We should rather ask why the Camorra, in Naples, so as to maintain a daily market. Make a journal all about black this and it keeps selling. If we were a newspaper about books e scrittori non lo comprerebbe nessuno. Il malaffare, a Napoli, tira. E questo accade perchè la fascinazione, e la capacità di penetrazione sociale, del crimine è molto più potente di quanto ci piace pensare.
Noi amiamo consolarci dicendo che Napoli è piena di persone oneste e che i delinquenti sono una minoranza.

Io non credo più a questa favola. C'è un'area grigia - una classe media, direi -, una sorta di borghesia del male, che non delinque in modo classico ma pompa ossigeno nei polmoni del crimine. Mi riferisco ai commercialisti che fanno finta di non sapere che il loro cliente ricicla i soldi della camorra aprendo negozi e ristoranti; mi riferisco agli architetti e agli ingegneri che fanno pretend not to know that their customers are manufacturers who recycle the money into building clan, I mean the good people who manage the stores, recycling money making pizza and frying donuts, I mean those organizations that receive grants Friends of Friends or sponsorship from companies in the clan, and pretend not to know where the money and then spend it in meetings, activities and feel good because they have a good end, but never speak of the media. I refer to those parts of the entrepreneurial class who enter into agreements with commercial companies that recycle dirty money and pretend not to know, I mean all that multitude of good people that establish functional relationships, useful, with territorial and economic segments of the Camorra, and that clears the conscience by saying that they have nothing to do, that certain things belong to the police, that they are clean why do not you are guilty of nothing.
And maybe when they can also speak ill of the Camorra.
that of others, though.
I believe that evil will nest in this very long list of complacency, which expands the power of the system and makes it pervasive, and therefore invincible. In this sense
worries me more well-paid advertising firms on the Camorra major newspaper that good sales country by country, by a small newspaper in black, with little publicity and many copies sold (which is a guarantee of true independence), he "played" on a piece of the market and take some risks, slipping slip some bold and smart, try to stay afloat.

Brent Everett January 2010

Small personal note

Maculopapular Rash Hiv

are all around us afresh by the municipalities

Louis, sixteen, had a brother who would marry the next day. At home there was the champagne. It took three bottles and two friends went away on the beach of Castellammare. With their three girls of fifteen. Their girlfriends? Say. Are those girls that we have all the eyes in our country: high wedges, squeezed dry clothes, and barges with heavy makeup. Olds imitating flashy, evil, tissue bear the marks of the sauce. They love the young fashion, we can do. Those who look like their fathers, after all. (I have to blame?)
The party is late in the sand. They drink, shouting. Then the girls are brought home, but the night is still immature. Louis and his two friends back on the beach. The three have a loaded gun. They are sixteen and robberies. The gun is needed. Louis is the son of a boss of the Camorra Stabia, one of the lieutenants of Gionta. With arms raised there. His two friends have grown up with him. The first robbery, the first pull of cocaine.
Louis and his two friends decide to use a gun to do a robbery and euphoria. They come close to an Audi e puntano la pistola. Hanno sbagliato coppia. Dalla macchina esce uno e dice “jatevenne sinnò v’accir e mazzat”. Luigi e i due amici lo conoscono. Alzano i tacchi. Hanno sedici anni, sono ubriachi, hanno una pistola ma sanno campare.
Vedono una tenda sulla spiaggia, si avvicinano, guardano dentro. Ci sono un ragazzo e una ragazza. Luigi sfonda la zip e si infila dentro. Punta la pistola e grida “e sord, e sord”. I ragazzi sono stranieri, tedeschi, non capiscono. Luigi traduce a modo suo. “Cash, cash”. I ragazzi, spaventati, tirano fuori il denaro. Ma a Luigi non basta. Lascia la pistola, prende la ragazza e dice “mi devo fare a questa”.
La trascina su una macchina. La fa stendere. She cries, his eyes red, he despairs. But he does not stop. The violent. Then call your friends. "It's up to you." A dog barks from behind the curtain. And 'the Germans. The smashing his skull with the butt of his gun and kicked in the head end. The friend goes to the girl, tries to rape her. He fails, but says he did not to be laughed at. It's up to the next. The girl is terrified, annihilated. The second friend can not rape her. "I've tried to make them violent - will say later, to be justified - but that was crying and looked at me with his hands in his face. His eyes were bloodshot: it was too much, too much pain. "
The three go, leaving the weakened German couple disbelief and pain. She staggers out of the car to the beach. He is on his knees and weeps in her hands. Nearby is the city. Call the police, go to the hospital. Tell all the details. The description is so detailed that the police takes ten minutes to realize that this is Louis, an area known. Go get it. He's already done. Ride. It says "no, and guesses that I have not done anything." They take him to the barracks. In stunning ago the names of two friends. He spent the evening with them. The police went to seize them too. It puts them in a square room and a microphone.
"There she sang? It was he who made our names? "Says one another.
"He did everything so iss bit and we cannot we? He made to robbery, took the girl, he ordered us to rape her. The lagg there not even done. "
"Tranquil, up to two days and we go out ...."
"Shit, there vulevm fuck a stranger, and stranger c it fuck us." After
, even confesses Louis.
They were drunk, they would not do anything wrong. They were on the beach, drank, those two were there and they jumped on him. "Vabbuò but the mic amm 'duty ...», said Luigi, to minimize. Is transferred to juvenile detention for Airola. "They have just witnessed, they have carried out the violence," said lawyers for the other two guys, and ask for release. They were taken to Nisida.
The two Germans have returned home with a lump of anger and a feeling of being compressed down to hell.
We, however, we live every day. Those three
olds with a gun around us. I see them at night on the scooter, standing on the sidewalk or to make zig zag down the street, constantly playing his horn and laughing uproariously. I see them every day and I wonder when it's up to me to get face to face.
And how to react.
And where I'll put the anger or if sbotterò there, at that precise moment, take a shot in the head.
And then I wonder why and how you can become so brutal and something stirs in the disease of these guys. I wonder what they think their mothers (because they have a mother). I wonder what these characters are by and large, they become large and will return to circulate among us, around us, to me.
I wonder why I did not become like them and what can I do to not become another.
I wonder, finally, if there is no need to pack your bags and go and try to live, not a bad place, where violence is the occasional detour to an outsider, not the everyday language of a teenager who may live in my building and in the evening when he returns, I crossed the stairs and I said well good evening.