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The hunter and the deer

You reckless hunter, you took aim and mild in the woods, flaunting your false harmless.

Shaking bare hands, have hidden weapons eyeing the fawn,

you looked docile he yielded to his natural innocence.

Then you shot several times, until it fell with a thud.

Great wonder in his eyes wide open to hear the heat caused by the wounds

not understand why,

and embraced him and hug while crying sorry

he does not feel, at last.

not hear anything.

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The choice starts here

Alice returns after a month III & IV commitments.

The mafia in Bologna is and feels! April and May were the important months. The anniversaries of the dead were killed by the Mafia very much. On April 30, Pio La Torre and Rosario di Salvo, May 9 and May 23 Peppino Impastato Giovanni Falcone, just to name a few.
Bologna has made his choice, or at least has started a process of choice. Thanks to the boys of "No Name" and "Il Blogos" the choice seems possible. Because when Claudio Fava, Massimo Ciancimino, Crocetta and many others, came to our city to discuss the Mafia, to answer questions and to understand that the Mafia is not just to the south, people were present and were many.
Heads or tails? is the usual speech. Luck has nothing to do.


Alice wants to offer you an interview with Claudio Fava published on the website of The Blogos. Good listening and good choice!

Interview Claudio Fava

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Flowers wilted

It was a cold and rainy evening, the more cold and wet because the first day of May, would leave their winter jackets in the closet, just in the far and dark. But the time is sometimes as if trying to adapt to circumstances, as it were, framed in an appropriate way the lives of men, and accommodate the different shades of the thoughts that accompany them, just as they do in the great novels. And the almost martial rhythm of this rain was just the same that drove the breath of those that night walked the streets of the old sad, it dragged indifferent to what was moving around, even to his dull process.
Suddenly the scene outside changed. Lights, laughter, a lively chatter, mixed with the smell of mojito's and bellini rum cooler in the same room. The rain had remained outside the room, but it is not the sober melancholy of the lonely walk of Maximus, just more steps and heavy among those who laughed loudly from a table another.
the smallest room of the Flower else had already taken place.
were almost two months they found themselves in front of a beer to tell their stories, to find solitude in the other a fragment of their own sadness. Young men and women who in some way by copying the meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous, or at least the movie scenes, they hoped not quite consciously not to break away from their past, what made them still suffer from that one painful way that they thought they held relating to themselves and to their lives.
Fabrizio was the first: tDo not hide the tattoo on the arm with the name of Elizabeth in Gothic was the tangible sign of his stubborn desire to not look ahead. Leo the previous month had served three beers before he could prevent the voice trembled as she told of when he was off the road in the cold of an insolent morning of December, ending face to face with the death of the snow-reflected in the ravine. He wanted, he had to take a letter to Georgia. He wanted, he had to convince her to go back. He wanted, he had to beat the storm, because he did not want, did not have to wait a moment more. Lucia had not actually told her story, but every night, at every meeting read all his suffering in the sentences handed down without nennemo more conviction, without a tone different voice, which never distracted my eyes from the void. At the beginning nobody understood why Elisa attend meetings. She was a bubbly and full of life, attending many girls and that if it undertook in a stable relationship was only because twenty-two years was twenty-two and you can choose to enjoy life and postpone tasks with the more in love there. But those meetings were the only path leading to the garden that she kept hidden apparentementemente so little effort at all. In those rare occasions did not hide the gap left by an unrequited love, a smile of indifference is not appreciated and never given a chance. Julius said he did not essre more in love with Christine, not to be perhaps never was, but he could not get away from her since she had left. It was impossible not to hear, not see it, do not go out at night with her, thinking seriously of attending another. Maybe he did not know what all this nennemo was wrong.
That evening was Andrea's turn. He did not know yet comeavrebbe told what Anna had told him a few months before, what had driven her to finish a report of three years. As he revealed that he wanted to marry, who had imagined his life with her, that she would never love another.
Maximus almost never spoke. He listened. He listened carefully. Try not to let anything leak out of his pain masked with a contemptuous hostility towards all those stories, to all those detained and thrown back tears. He said it was not worth it to suffer, let help include that.
opened the card menu. Unnecessarily because they knew what it would take.
But there was something strange. A ticket. "When a flower has bloomed, it blossomed. But when it faded, withered. It is useless to keep it dry and do it at home, lifeless simulacrum of an ancient glory. Does not give off the most delicate and sparkling in the past. Not capture more rays of the sun and the glow of its rays. It is now faded. "
He read it and left it to the table.
Elena beers every night bringing customers felt the talk of the strange table, I felt the bitter resignation that squeaked so loudly with the disenchanted optimism that characterized his youth, but he saw in those green eyes, turned off, there was still a glimmer of happiness.

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MY FRIEND CIAK - Take 9, DRAQUILA - ITALY THAT TREMA

Ciak My friend has opened its week at the Lumiere cinema to see live the dumplings Guzzanti . At the end, questions from the audience . Ciak raised his hand and asked her to marry Sabina. She is there, the union, rather Unit will enshrined in Cannes.

Sandro Bondi, chosen by Ciak as a witness, refuses to follow the couple in France because its institutional role does not allow him to participate in events for the sake of propaganda unscheduled . Sabina Guzzanti? So bad as to make us want to be smart.

thundered Brambilla, who has been forced to minor roles, there is once again to be a simple tourist, stupid carboy. Oops, lady. His picture may emerge further impaired, too often already victims of the confusion created by its resemblance to the singer Naomi , too many times already the subject of strong criticism for its hair color, too sincerely toad. Oops, Red. We think the legal profession in the state to intervene when "someone speak or be silent forever."

Ciak has opted for an unconventional style Dracula outfit for the wedding. Bertolaso \u200b\u200b find it inappropriate, it will not make a good impression to Italy. Between the two, it was better to dress up as mafia. Ciak, however, thinks that if it were not for that lunatic who shot as many as ten editions of The Octopus, the Mafia would not be so fashionable. While the coat, you know, never goes out of fashion.
Also, hear about the Mafia, Ciak is a desire to strangle someone. The option cast was removed.
Bertolaso \u200b\u200btry to make him think: if we want to export a decent image abroad, the best solution would be to dress up as Civil Protection. Ciak will make us a little thought, is the year of the world and shared with the league could be very stylish.

Denis Verdini pays tribute to the young couple with a wind farm with a very low environmental impact, in Sardinia, and warns in Cannes will take at least a million people. Claudio Scajola Instead, he chose the wedding list for an apartment overlooking the Colosseum. But Ciak and Sabina will be a surprise, Mr has prepared everything because if the couple find themselves in the ass without their knowledge.

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approached me and the breath is suspended

I go up and the breath is suspended ,

suddenly a sense, determined, positive. The mind is confused, and within me a kaleidoscope of colorful emotions.

eyes tight. My focus is on other stimuli that the eye would disperse at the expense of stronger feelings.

A mild tremor, then a strong stomach and a chill down my spine, a raging torrent of adrenaline forward, galloping up to the most remote end of my body. Wince.

How endless explosions echo in my heart palpitations. The tremors of my heart are becoming more intense. I can feel his heartbeat and the body is pervaded by an intense heat. Again a start.

The sweet smell me and permeates a slight tickle in my face steals a smile. A mild tremor. Around the world shows no sign; existence is all there, pure and undefiled is captured in those moments and I was absorbed in a dream world made of dreams, but also feelings of truth, ethereal rock me in these arms, aware of the reality they represent. All of that essence in a gesture.

The emotion in his delicate veil of silk around me.

Your lips off of my "time to go" "no please, one more kiss"

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desire for revolution!

"Blood, theirs. Blood of those who beat it, of those who rebel, the blood of those who no longer knows where to go. Blood-seekers and almost never is. Blood of those who are forgotten, gone, annihilated.
blood of those who only know the taste of blood and the hunger that often resemble each other.
Tears, theirs. Tears who hates without weapons. Tears of a living body that dies. Silent tears of those who speak in a language that no one will listen.
hands dirty, my. Hands of those who are stopped. The hands of those who are ignorant, who looks up. Hands of those who forget, busy hands, hands useless.
Powder, ours. Dust in the eyes. Dust in the games of children stunned. Dust in the throat of tired voices. Dust in our old dreams of revolution.
utopia what I need ... "



A good friend of mine looked at today," As a man on earth "for those who have not yet seen I recommend it. This is what I wrote later, I wanted to talk about his anger, his pain, but his desire to soprattuttodella change. I write these words here hoping that you also can answer.
Thank you, Alice

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Waiting for the next disaster ...

There are ecological disasters that are marked in history forever. I think of Chernobyl, of course, but also in India Bopal (leak of methyl isocyanate, thousands of deaths), the tragedy of Seveso in 1976 (a cloud of dioxin), or the number of cases of asbestos contamination, and the shameful recent disaster River Lambro, Lombardy .. and I could name dozens.

The last sad catastrophe occurred a few days ago in the Gulf of Mexico, not far from the coast of Louisiana. The oil rig Deepwater Horizon belonging the U.S. giant BP, which auger, drilled or better, every day thousands of gallons of oil, due to a fire and consequently sank several flaws, it would seem to be 3, are pouring into the sea a few days tens of thousands of gallons of oil a day ..! The oil spill, which is now visible from satellites, is approaching the American coast the other morning and already the first waves of Petriolo reached Louisiana. Vain attempts to stop the slick, with fires artificial substances to dissolve everything etc. .. The disaster has reached and will reach gigantic proportions, perhaps one of the worst ecological disasters in the history of fully equipped USA. A

BP spokesman annucia: "pay us", as if this story had a price, a definite cost, pay a check and voila, the problem is solved. The consequences of this event will be dramatic for the flora and fauna (there are already cases of birds and fish "stuck" in the tar), the beauty of the coast and then for tourism, the economy, for fishing, people's health .. We can not yet quantify damage.

fact is this gives rise to certain considerations, some doubts, some thoughts.

not yet know who the blame, assuming that the faults, there will be an investigation (I hope) that it will establish. Can 'be that the cause of the fire were not hand man, but simply a mix-hex-fault nature.
But in the end it hardly matters.
I think the point here is another. There are man-made disasters that do not depend strictly by natural processes but unfortunately recurring and normal earthquakes, typhoons, volcanic eruptions (although the man can 'act on the implications, or rather on prevention, but this is a another story). This disaster, like Chernobyl or the park Lambro, however, is the result of human activities and is thus the result of (bad) use of resources that serve the needs of the world population, which and energy, industry, food etc. .. While a man needs to use and exploit the resources we offer the planet (illimitatamente..?), Man can also choose how to use and exploit such resources.

In our Neolithic ancestors accontetavano a bit 'of wood, some fields and who knows maybe some pit. Today, the human being needs something else, and it is obviously impossible to go back to the standards of 5000 years ago '.
That said, using the planet as we do, we must think about the impact that this causes, the consequences to those found say "unpredictable" and all the disasters mentioned above, explosion in fire losses ..
Maybe there will be no burning of oil platforms for the next ten or twenty years (we hope), but it is obvious that, as we teach it on the one hand the laws of probability, and another disaster a few days ago ', the potential is always there. Given the severity of any disaster that affects not only from an environmental point of view, but also social, economic and healthy, I wonder, but you may not be able to conceive of a world where the balance between man and planet is not constantly threatened by unforeseen events and risks of natural disasters? Why the anger after each ecological catastrophe lasts only a few days, and then fades away, ready to go back one day of the next disaster? You can not start thinking about how to prevent this from happening? is only from this basis that we can start thinking about the future of human beings, beyond the consederazioni economic policies that flow from it. When it comes to alternative energy, sustainable future, means just that: not just a question of unboundedness of resources, but the impact they may have on the planet.

is certainly not a simple matter and resolve in a few years, but it is certainly that they must start all the energy policies of our countries. While the wind turbines kill thousands of bats per year, or that the solar panels absorb energy that would, in theory, the normal heat cycle on the planet, it is equally true, and perhaps more seriously, the fact that a nuclear plant is always imminent Loose Cannon in the event of an explosion, as well as various oil refineries, chemical or otherwise.

not the answer I have, indeed do not have one. My invitation is just a little reflection, unpretentious, but simply because I hope that one day I'll be more a sense of shame, powerlessness, but also, in reading the news of our newspapers' nth environmental disaster.

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MY FRIEND CIAK - Take 8, THERE WERE SO LOVED

Ciak My friend says that since there is a party love him finally feel represented in parliament. At last the lonely hearts club has been legalized and here too, always single, rediscovers his passion for politics. Insecure in life, not feelings.

Mouthpiece resigns Carfagna: "No matter, we'll make another." Mara Carfagna. If it were not for her, Ciak would continue to think that politics was a thing for old, would continue to believe that the policy was not made for the fairer sex. Then came Mara, has taken alone has suffered a lot, but not all affected children. Mara, the Regional Council voted most of Italy, 56 thousand preferences to say "thank you", thanks for bringing us into politics as a woman. Mara, that if he had not called Mara, he would call Silva, or John, as this square.

the Ciak reminds Miss Italy, the Italians have never been sufficiently forward looking. Vote to elect Miss Italy lightly, without thinking too much, if approximate, as if it were not at stake the future of the country.

The party of love, finally, is faithfully the aesthetic taste of the Italians. You know, the dress has, otherwise we would all be pedophiles.

True love can not control, so a mouthpiece. The party of love has set a trend in New Zealand where it is issued a card with an honorary Pearl Carter and Phil Bailey , respectively 72 and 26 years, grandmother and grandson. The two met four years ago (the daughter of Pearl, as well as the mother of Phil, was given up for adoption and the two had completely lost track of the mother - daughter). When Grandma and little Pearl Phil have finally met it was love at first slip.

"From the first moment I saw him, I felt sexually alive." And then tell me that the party does not perform miracles of love.

E 'the same happened to Ciak in politics, when he met the party of love, it was felt, years later, finally, sexually alive.

The anemones are slightly poisonous, antidote found to be recruited via mouthpiece. The party of love, if you fall in love with a house, what are you doing? You let her get away? Of course not! Claudio Scajola guilty of having loved from the first moment an apartment in Rome, in the eye of the storm. The judges shall investigate the its inability to curb the impulses. He might have to tighten their belts? Or the belt was to Anemone? Ciak said that relies on fear of the Italians that he could one day allow a home to 900 thousand euro. And rely on fear, it is a shame, always. Bring up the Pope, then, it is extremely unfair.

Ciak feels reassured by the fact that the minister for productive activities will not abandon the mandate. The instills confidence in the future. The party of love, if you mess up, do not hunt, love to party, err Humanum East. And for him, which makes some shit, this is an incentive to take the field, to get involved, to deal with policy.

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Alice would be lame without you. But ... soup!

Pictures Nicola Praderio

Alice Boum forces the V International Festival of Great soup with an exhibition by prize. Live in Wonderland, with the valuable help of Cheshire Cat, Queen of Hearts, capellai mad, white rabbit, Brucaliffo Anchovies and local, global, total. It's all about the hallucinogenic effects emitted from our mushroom?

We had to negotiate with a home Stregatta holding hostage our materials, but thanks to the cooks inspired by the wisdom of Caterpillar, the queen of hearts trimmed two of spades to defeat the white rabbit that if we distracted shouted "it's late, it is later, "we are all winners.

What in Wonderland, the team wins. And happiness is drawn, is constructed of wire, creativity he disobeys.

Presto online photos of the triumph.