Thursday, October 15, 2009

5 Month Old Coughing And Wheezy




FLIA

of emergency


This is emergency FLIA dedicated to the desperate, the crazy, the perennial losers, those who sold all and I hope they have no rest to try again, the usual misfits, suicide, whose wings melted about to reach the sun, who again changed the kingdom by snake oil again, beyond the victory and loss, gain or loss. Legplates interstellar burned to the brain and heart broken windmills facing radioactive riding their broomsticks.

The fight is completely disproportionate, a circus company against a mercenary army armed to the teeth, a handful of hopes raised against the will to power, inevitably faced, from beginning to end.

Los primeros reyes fueron los bandidos de la zona, porque, a diferencia de las bandas nómades, permitían que sus víctimas sobrevivieran y se recuperasen, para volver a saquearlas sistemáticamente. La mentalidad de los poderosos no cambió demasiado desde entonces, salvo por su metodología. Por más que nos permiten votar regularmente, el carácter de las instituciones que atraviesan nuestra vida cotidiana: el trabajo, la educación y la familia, fundamentalmente, están organizadas de manera jerárquica y verticalista, con dueños y jefes bien establecidos. Lamentablemente no disfrutamos de la democracia que supimos conseguir, sino que padecemos la democracia que el proceso militar preparó para nosotros. We must never forget that when we return to significantly shake the waters, they will again come to us to seek, to drive us above all its deadly arsenal, unleashing all known and unknown terror they are capable.

They plan to take away every ounce of breath, take over the land, confiscate our ideas and remove our innermost feelings, forcing us to live without love and putting off even our own body. But I have news to announce, as a spit said softly in his ear will never succeed. Each new generation implies the rebirth of hope, there will always be ready to pick up new blood cocktail Molotov lit, the torch of eternal rebellion. I never win, but we will not be defeated again! The bout will be eternal and the result is what we are.

- "When they come after you, pull down your door ... how are you going out with his hands on his head, or on the trigger of your gun?" - Sung by the Clash, haranguing the pack, while Don Atahualpa he answered, - "Death lives jealous of my beloved flower of life, say they're looking for me, I hope if one day I get it, and found myself singing Machao pa 'to die d' envy."

writers make love and war with words. We are the same as always: from Gilgamesh, the immortal, retelling tales of which seven thousand years later, through the tales of endless night book, followed by the undeniable madness of Prince Hamlet and the Earl of Maldoror, the decapitated cabreza Julien Sorel, lost ball Russian roulette player, the virtual closure of Mr. Ka and crucifixion of Heliogabalus, the ghosts of Pedro Páramo, the old and the sea, the great white whale tusk, all sentenced to death in prison Reading, singing the song of the executioner, warming the peak with the drunk gay Salinas Valley, quietly flew to the island of Neverland, in Wonderland, forming the armies of the night, the Confederacy of Dunces and the heart of darkness.

Now came the turn of the Independent Book Fair and Alternative, anarchic, hungry, amorphous, amoeba, syrupy, loving, bum.

read Cappucci




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