Friday, September 28, 2007

Skin Tag On Dog That Has Clear Discharge

Let us help!

I wanted to write a post about news that was not pure, but unfortunately they are very busy from work and now more than of disseminating information need to give our support , stir the consciences and emphasize the profound disconnect between the decisions taken by international governments and our common sense.
We have all heard about the protest launched by the monks in Burma to urge the restoration of democracy in a country rich yet objectively battered and reduced poverty by more than 40 years of military dictatorship.
The protest made, quiet and brave monks, began following the decision of the military junta in power, a doubling quintuple the price of gasoline and the price of gas for domestic use.
This has worsened the already dire economic conditions in which the people of Burma versa, with the consequent increase of all basic necessities, including medicines.
The ruling military junta is no stranger to violent repression as one that is taking place in those days. In 1988 the demonstrations organized by students to encourage the restoration of democracy were sedated with blood.
At the time those events did not arrive before our eyes with the same force the media we have today. The military regime is now trying to get the same result (silence!) blacking out and mopping up internet connections to hotels to expel the journalists.
We all know that the application of international sanctions has been blocked at the UN for the Russian veto from China and Indonesia.
The same representatives of Western politics have adopted an attitude of restraint not to harm its relations and its economic balance with China and Russia.
We add that already in 1988 adopted the embargo against the Burmese military regime, has been repeatedly violated. Quell'embargo envisaged, inter alia, the prohibition on supplying arms to Burma ... yet ... it was sold (in India) a model helicopter whose components are produced by Belgium, France, Germany, Italy, Sweden and the UK!
Neither I understand that Italy has suspended a course in humanitarian law, to be held in October and will be attended by officials of the Burmese regime.
That course was funded by the Italian government, in violation of the prohibition by the EU to welcome into our country officials with senior Burmese military junta to Corporal!


It's turning through blogs and text messages via the call to wear something red today were a sign of support for the Burmese people.


It 's a symbolic gesture to make our governments feel irritation of the common citizen to the lack of action.


We can also do something more concrete ! Amnesty International has launched a signature campaign to raise awareness on the UN to send its observers in Burma and order the release of prisoners as well as the cessation of all forms of violent repression.


Sign the petition. Let us help!


published Blog Pen Ink Tags: Burma , dictatorship, regime, monks , , on 28/09/2007


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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

External Hard Drive Tv Adapter

Uto-pia. If you do not talk about Cricket, you're nobody

Tags: initiatives, petitions , mobilization, humor,


If pa rli Grillo, you're nobody, so I adjusted. In fact I do more, draw up a program of my own.



If pa
rli Grillo, you're nobody, so I adjusted. In fact I do more, draw up a program of my own.


addition to the parliament and clean the roof of two terms retroactive us I add:


A


The immediate elimination of Windows Vista: The most useful human invention since the tie and the cellophane around the cd.


Yesterday I spent my day to review a book on archeology, I missed only two lines two, the final I already reverberated in his head, a little 'courtly, somewhat' redundant.


was enough of a window view, "error windo view blocked program, look for a solution? restart the program and look for a solution? end? " we lacked only the clock down and Gerry Scott told me that" light it up? ". course I said something wrong because all of a sudden my spreadsheet has turned white, and traces of what I wrote on a day they vanished.


TWO


Liberation world by newsletters, mail you a very important aspect, we do not sleep, you turn over in bed in the morning do not you miss your slippers, do not even breakfast, try download e. .. 10 megs of crap.


a advertisement of viagra, three surveys, four editors and saw that I was too careless I joined the mailing list also a former press secretary who now Berlusconi sends me a newsletter of Indie music festival. Soon I will ask you to download the latest hit " Riviera freedom" with the text of Bondi , arranging Apicella and the voice of a youngster, this Iva Zanicchi , I can feel ...


THREE


immediate extinction of the dinosaurs of the television. It is not possible c'abbiamo Mike Bongiorno still in the early evening, the first network. What to rejuvenate a little 'Who have supported Loretta Goggi, apparently only because he Nilla Pizza at its heart, a patchwork of course they say ...


My first memory of television is that I've got just the fuck up with Mike Bongiorno wheel that is "dhdhdhdhdhdhdhdhddd.d .. d. .. d. ...", Antonella Elia with yellow hair and competitors who buy a vowel. and I 'is the voice I wanted for Christmas, just to see who he was, but was not found in stores.


pomerggi I remember my background with the passing of "dhdhdhdhdhdhdhdh .. ddd" the children had to be Shut up or I do not understand the mysterious phrase. Type "Better an egg today than a hen tomorrow."


Colored markers with a spirit that just crawled across the paper, made noise and bother in the end not to hear the smear of color gave me the spirit of crayons that does not infringe on the paper.


Then when finished "Wheel of Fortune" that went? "Ok the price is right", where people who did not have to do shit went on television to guess when it cost a pack of twelve star nut pieces. Although there was a wheel to turn only coming out of a wall, was not resting on the ground and was "ththththththt .. ttt."


All this to confirm that supports the movement of Uto Rete 4 on satellite, and I thought before I Grillo, I went to kindergarten yet, and I was already convinced!


To complement the design of these points are enough for me Grillo 50 000 signatures, we make it or is un'UTO-pia?


posted by: Uto88 on: CLEAN MOLESKINE


posted on the Blog Pen Ink 25/09/2007



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Monday, September 24, 2007

How Do You Say Chiquitita

not fall into the net ....

was a quiet Sunday in September, and morton0 redazione_blog cazzeggiano as usual in a videoconference when, suddenly, from the microphone of the webcam thundered a voice commanding: "Robert!"
Morton0 hearing his name pronounced in full, including a priori that redazione_blog was to something ....

"All they write V-DAY - continued redazione_blog - all emphasize the weariness of citizens with regard to the political class, but few believe they're thinking about further implications of this affair."

result was a post written in two hands, or, what you are about to read is the result of two minds buggy that interact with each other.




We do not care whether Grillo is a moralizing of political conduct, or new messiah who is able to create instances of easy demagogic. We believe
rather than an event snubbed by the traditional channels of information, but can carry it in large measure the benefit of the masses, demonstrates the enormous potential of the blogosphere and we do not sufficiently understood.
should become aware that the blog tool is, in embryo, an alternative model of information, not centralized or top-down, but with a horizontal structure and widespread, but still lacks the necessary organization .

Think of a stone thrown into a pond, and concentric circles from which spread gradually wider and wider ...


However, except in the case, our way of communicating does not evoke even the geometric perfection of the concentric circles.
We were a myriad of sketches so far isolated and sporadic, dispersed on the surface of the water and unable to impose effectively the goals we share.
Just think of the many campaigns launched on the web and for which we have experienced a deep sense of helplessness.
we've got a giant machine that should improve disclosure, to ensure both incisive, reliability and authority.
In America, the software house "Pluck", has created a special program dealt to - newspapers - Whether your content from the web-log.
of this software (the BlogBurst) already use the Washington Post, The San Francisco Chronicle, the Houston Chronicle and the San Antonio ExpressNews.


It 's time to take a quantum leap, to coordinate efforts to bring out the most significant items in order to avoid being driven by some traditional information channels, even by a single hand , capable of directing the launching their own consciences stone in the pond.


posted by: morton0 and redazione_blog
Pen Ink Blog published on 09/09/2007


immagine


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Ball Chair In Cornwall

There are women ... To be in net for

immagine THERE ARE WOMEN TIRED . hungry. Poor. Frustrated. There are women exhausted. Afraid. Insecure.
We are desperate women. Inconprese. Introverted. Crazy.
There are women who love beautiful clothes. There are women who like precious jewels . Diamonds, rubies. They do not want

flowers. They do not want kisses. want a diamond.

So these women to please a poor worker, a farmer does not know what to do. It undue .
Perhaps these are best left to lose women. Although it is not their fault but their mothers and the environment in which they lived. Mothers and fathers
maybe. You may also fathers.



A diamond for a embrace. Some will happen?


At the most unlucky scent and follow it signed copula.


To those unlucky unless a nice box of chocolates . That does not even go to copulate. Or you, so to lose a few gram (it depends from the sexual act, if it lasts four seconds I do not think that can be considered quite healthy ).


There are women who hate jewelry. That the diamond you pull him in the face. offend you. There are women who do not care.


There are women who chase dreams of , lost in the street next to illusions.
These women do not want diamonds, because diamonds is not born from nothing , to name Fabrizio de André.


These women do not want nothing, nothing, nothing.


posted by: nataieri73 on: NATAIERI73
published Blog Pen Ink on 09/13/2007

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immagine


Cystic Fibrosis Water Retention Causes

Silence and its inner landscapes

Years ago, in Israel, lived a brief but intense experience of the desert and even now Serbian inside my soul the memory of that silence ... A silence "body" that surrounds and penetrates the same time, ringing in resonating in unison with the wind, a wind that speaks, he speaks and speaks again ... A quiet warm, cozy, and a silence full of Presena ...


Years later, in my therapy room, I was able to experience another dimension of silence with a child with selective mutism, and a psychogenic basis, which, to emphasize its willingness to let me live his silence, I built with blocks of foam and a huge sound barrier, with "slots" filled with items sharp as if they had weapons of attack or defense, so in order to establish the boundaries between my and your space. Ben other feelings, other emotions well! A hard, icy and silent, dark and painful, the Nothing and its dangers (as well for 45 minutes, the time canon of the sessions, but something like four hours in my psychological time)


The memory of these two experiences made me much reflection on the nature of silence and his inner landscapes. In fact, the silence has its own semantic , its emotional meaning. Then, sometimes, we can perceive as a full, like when you can feel the love in its entirety, when Love needs no words but with gestures and looks full, or when the silence is a moment of meditation , contact with someone or with yourself, making it even during synthesis, reflection and planning. But there is silence as the Void, the inability to communicate icy silence between people, or a grief too big and old to be expressed, of a fear that paralyzes the soul, too much pent-up anger to be dissolved in a scream or a cry. Silence of the Night, Silence of the primeval darkness, Silence of Absence.


but the silence probably has its own rules, and then you can talk about its syntax , with its duration and its punctuation: these are the breaks when we speak, which are used to collect new ideas or to understand whether and how the other felt he understood, or are the words that suddenly pierce, sharp objects such as stones thrown of my little patient, breaking the barrier, filling the silence of grief and anger.


Finally, be silent or feel the silence of the other can not produce effects on people, because you can not remain impassive in the face of it, or because it tends to escape, or because you let yourself be captivated by its charm. It 's the pragmatic of silence. The Palo Alto School psychologists maintain that silence in itself contains a strong communicative value. It 's impossible, in fact, do not communicate, if only because, paradoxically, with no communication to inform you that we are not communicating ...!


The silence thus can not be treated as a kind of empty, but as a place "too full", as a space full of mental and communicative content, experiences, values. Cold or hot it is, silence is a full-forward the intentions of those who live and those who do it live.


E ', however important the night, so prepare the day ... And it is the "good Silence", which requires folding in on ourselves, that is worth exploring, not only because it can be an antidote to the "Silence bad", but mostly because, "deciding" to be so, helps us to put order in our emotional drawers, turn off the accumulated white noise, or the chaos of inner tension, remorse, guilt, distorted ideas, prejudices lapidary that populate our landscape interior. It 's the way to the transparency, clarity and emotional clarity, and for that you need courage.


's just doing in the desert, only if you really silence, you can think of to find themselves and to rediscover stronger, more authentic, more mature. And it is only by silence within him that allows the other to get even with its contradictions and its ambivalence, empathizing with his pain without giving up self, but accepting and embracing his words, his silence and scenery inner


posted by: Morton0 on Joke or Folllia
published on 06/08/2007 Blog Pen Ink Pen Inkwell

Blog is a group blog, a plan to combine open to bloggers of all platforms. We want to open the doors of the blog, we want to create a meeting place where debate of various topics, from current events to poetry, from politics to feelings, from news to humor. You can enter here your comments on this post and you can view comments posted on the author's blog and group blog on the platform of Digiland. Take part in our project of exchange and collaboration between bloggers of different platforms! Visit the blog of origin, visit Blog Pen Ink register it in our virtual square, sends the permalink of your post to redazione_blog@libero.it and make application for registration as a member of the group blog. All posts accepted for publication will be gradually incorporated Digiland up on Blogspot and Wordpress. Each author, for each post published on the Blog Pen Ink, will therefore get three links to your blog, you can increase your visibility and establish relationships and exchange knowledge with bloggers of three platforms. Come along! We are waiting.


immagine


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Oral-b Electric Toothbrush

Anger

I get angry easily.
Usually I do not think it's worth it ... you live better by sitting quietly.


But sometimes it happens that someone truly exceeds all limits and make me get out of divine grace.
And then I become (almost) dangerous.


People are strange. They can be bad sometimes.


So you all tangled inside.



Now I feel so ....

immagine


Deletions, tears ... I lost the time ...
Some note has been deleted - from the evil inside that you can not even give a good name.


There are moments like this where I really want to smash something. Scream.
Running until no longer breath.


Then take the purple and sound.



And that thing inside begins to do less harm.
The cries become sounds, notes.
Even I, with my rhapsodic mood, I get an order, once. To cling to.
The sounds are strong, deep and vibrant.


The instrument is my voice, my pain, my anger.


Music becomes red apologize almost black.
And that's okay.



posted by: thefairyround on: THE FAIRY ROUND
published Blog Pen Ink on 20/09/2007

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immagine


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Quince Sponsor Letter

The test of the cook's best friend

Put that in the kitchen, in the sense of local house, you could easily do without it and turn it into more useful than a closet;
put the maximum of the culinary art which you can aspire to be thrown in the oven two fish fingers ( always remember that as you turn the oven )
add that your dish is a cup Nesquik milk and cereals with Kellogg's Extra (they bought advertising space on my blog);
put that as a cook you know the theory but in practice you do not want to apply it;
put that one day taken by a fit of madness you decide to invite someone to dinner ( prior warning of civil protection, fire engines, the 118 and the center Poisons )

put you decide to amaze with special effects worthy of an Oscar (Rafone ...) add that with love you choose to prepare something edible with your holy hands instead of hoping for divine intervention grandmother Duck and commitments you there with the same skill and dedication of the Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel ( or years and years of hard study and work )
add to that the fact that already failing to burns, cuts two phalanges, poisoned with gas is a success unexpected;
put that all in all the witch's cauldron after the addition of secret ingredients and aphrodisiacs, such as resin nails, hair and torn between lashes mixed and the other, a mixture that comes out from 'aspect does not even seem like too much food to dog ;
put that met all the tips of yourself dispassionately to lie shamelessly;
put your ego already tried that plunge beneath the feet when he throws you there, " Well ... I've eaten worse! "which also put the coffee sucks and the only What is the cake that you appreciate that you have packed smuggling grandmother Duck under the table, and consequently is not your work ...



add ... you're an ungrateful, smelly, obnoxious : "You could not go to eat at McDonalds??"



posted by: sissibf74 on: WOMAN WITH THE SKIRT
published Blog Pen Ink on 09/22/2007

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Antique Boxing Gloves



immagine Failing to have a good relationship with ourselves, we seek in others the love and comfort that can fill the inner emptiness.


looking for a companion, a trusted friend to whom he would entrust our doubts and fears that assail us sometimes suddenly. We want find a loved one on which to pour all the love that comes from our hearts.


Having someone who is close to us when we need is everyone's dream, but nobody can give us what we seek.


If we are not present, unless we find a right relationship with life, all our fears will arise in any relationship, and this always blame the other.


The person you seek is already here, there has always been close, he shared with you the joys and sorrows, victories and defeats, happiness and sadness. You are the best friend of yourself, or better, you can become that special person you've always searched.


Moreover, if you want good and not estimated, unless you want your company, why should he do another one? If you do not love you, you will not find anyone able to give you what you want.


posted by: reginaldodanese on: Poetry and Mystery
posted on the Blog Pen Ink 19/01/2007
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What Is The Best Atv Brush Mower



Aurelio De Laurentis, regarding the remake, would produce a new My Friends with De Sica and Bisio. Nothing to say but the company will be difficult.


immagine


all remember Count Mascetti (Ugo Tognazzi), a decayed nobleman who can not cope with the livelihood of his family, but nevertheless cultivated a taste for good living and a passion for clandestine affairs. The Perozzi (narrator of the film, starring Philippe Noiret) is a tattered investigative journalist who tries to escape the disapproval that his wife and son poured against a daily basis. The Melandri (Gastone Moschin) is an unknown architect in the perennial search for a woman and which would also be willing to give up his three friends, except repent at the last minute. The Necchi (Duillo Del Prete, later played by Renzo Montagnani) is instead a bartender and it was in her room with adjoining salabiliardo taking the gypsy life in which he participates regularly. At the four-time friends you add, in the narrative, Professor Sassaroli (Adolfo Celi), a brilliant primary hospital bored by the profession will become the backbone of the happy brigade.


immagine My friends he represented was a new understanding of the Italian comedy under the masterful direction of Monicelli and will not be easy to achieve the same success with actors, however, by the style and genre completely different. Many remakes have failed me, all for a fever.


Many psychologists say that the melancholy for the past is a symptom of inner uneasiness caused strong dissatisfaction and personal frustration.


I only know that makes me think of good memories, good feelings aroused in me made of smells, places and people. I often go in search of furnishings testimony of my childhood, not least the hunt for my favorite toy, Moncicci.


will cover films of the past with pleasure, curiosity will browse with the old diaries, people will remember who gave me so much and that there are more than Morelli's face which is not me is not so nice.


posted by: the auretta72 on: the dark
posted on the Blog Pen Ink 01/09/2007


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Plain Belt Buckle Blanks

Memories Beyond the walls of shame

War, Palestine, wall, unfaithful, RELIGIONS.



immagine Bits of flesh exposed as a quarter of beef slaughtered, the aroma of warm blood still trickles down to cut off the trunks. I feel that scent, that nectar of dark carnume rotten penetrate the nostrils.


I take the ball of rags, trying not to stumble on the limbs rained down from the sky during the last attack. Nothing changes around me, nothing changes from the beginning of my life, when my eyes were opened before the horror. There is no life beyond this life, there is no hope for us, imprisoned behind that infamous wall that makes us prisoners in yet another camp in the open, named by others with different name.


Everything had to be forgotten. Everything had to be reminded of the horrors of the past millennium, but the dead burnt, charred corpses cinder are now with us and I held his hand . I feel it, touch it, and skeletal and bony like mine. His stomach is crying for hunger as mine. The sound is the same as equal to the atrocities he suffered, and now my eyes and prematurely adults they see around me.


me is whispering, but others can not hear him, listen to his prayers to JHVH, addressed to Adonai. I feel his hand touching mine, and with a gesture of inviting me to address my God, Allah, God himself absent yesterday and today, of our sacred texts.


Adonai Where was passed in those areas where it is now Allah? Perhaps hidden beyond that wall? Maybe it's hidden silent and listen to our common prayers?

Touch with his Kippa mind, touch my spirit with Keif. The same fabric worked by man, the same God, the same faith, the same pain, death itself . Death.


I wish I could see her smile, I wish you could see my smile in search of hope towards the future absent.


Get the ball in his hands, dirty ground and smeared with blood. I spotted my fingers, my fingers black and numb the mind to the shrill cries that I hear.


is approaching yet another evening, yet another night of hell, where the sky is brightly lit by tracer rockets, where more innocents will be killed for a holocaust without end.


Today, as then no one wants to hear the cries of the innocent . Today as in the past millennium in too many close their eyes , covers his ears before the genocide that is taking place, before the indiscriminate killing that takes place daily .


Today, as then the politicians speak, they speak the public proclamations, the huddled and crying faults to one another, but it is falling on our heads the missiles are on the heads of our brothers over the wall falling our missiles causing destruction and fear death.


We are worth less than the grains of sand on the beach , we are poor pawns in a chess crazy, checkers without kings and queens, as vile as live protected, venerated and revered, while our table is empty , stomach cries and eyes we have no more tears to cry parents, brothers, sisters and friends lost.


We are guilty! Yes guilty as our brothers gassed and cremated. Guilty of having a different God, to have a faith born from the same ancestors, but the degenerate descendants was shattered and divided, reading, writing, narrating and creating walls of hatred and lack of communication.


to whom to address my prayers? In Mecca? I can not kneel on the ground in the right direction, because around me I see nothing except desolation, death and walls that rise to heaven? The God of the Jews? Begging mercy to put an end to our suffering and have mercy of us suspected unfaithful to his presence? The God of the Christians, who according to their customs will be remembered His birth in a few days? The same God who calls us infidels, as we call them infidel crusaders?


No, not this year will turn any prayer to God no human . Will not make any sacrifice to any God Jewish Muslim or Christian. Today I will gather in silence holding hands around the world, taking in the heart of those who wish to raise a prayer for the dead man exterminated in all the millennia passed , reflecting on the horrors that I see before me today.
will not watch their religions, but their hearts , Knowing next to have that friend who smiled with his bony hand is the Kippa system, and the other to caress Keif, infusing them with a smile, the certainty of a future beyond that wall, where he had read in the past a thousand times: "Work makes you free".



posted by: Marco Bazzano poet, writer, journalist, painter.

A new friend of Pen Ink Blog: Marco Bazzano: find out who is . His blog on
free and blogspot
Published Blog Pen The Inkwell 22712706


Blog Pen Ink is a group blog, a plan to combine open to bloggers of all platforms. We want to open the doors of the blog, we want to create a meeting place where debate of various topics, from current events to poetry, from politics to feelings, from news to humor. You can enter here your comments on this post and you can view comments posted on the author's blog and group blog on the platform of Digiland. Take part in our project of exchange and collaboration between bloggers of different platforms! Visit the blog of origin, register it in our virtual square, send the permalink of your post to redazione_blog@libero.it and make application for registration as a member of the group blog. All posts accepted for publication will be gradually incorporated Digiland up on Blogspot and Wordpress. Each author, for each post published on the Blog Pen Ink, will therefore get three links to your blog, you can increase your visibility and establish relationships and exchange knowledge with bloggers of three platforms. Come along! We are waiting.


immagine


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Sore From Football Practice

Interiority

immagine



There is a place where life is different ...


It 'a space where everything is distorted depending

of their emotions,
your mood, your feelings.
In this desolate region, inhabited only at certain moments of our existence
, each spends time
experiencing strong emotions, yearning for them, rejoicing and suffering,
thrilled and depressed,
refugees in this space, in this world,
Unknown outside and those who live outside of it.


Every day we live two lives, a relational
outward
where we relate normally and everything seems normal,
where every meeting and smile denotes peace and peace;

and another where you live in this space, in this particular world,
feed on memories, illusions and hopes.
It 's our inner life,
our inner world, our unique space and essential
that resides in the heart ...
   


posted by: Jon.L on: viaggiospaziotempo
the photo is found on the web through a selection of forsee on: NEROKOLORE
copyright remains actual author. Published on
Blog Pen Ink on 19/12/2006
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Dog Ate Puzzle Pieces

Beats the Cheese ...

immagine Dear friends, we free our imagination and try to imagine how it would meet various types of cheese ... yes ... cheese ... you got it! Why, maybe you did not know that the cheese they talking about? ... Well, go ahead, because I can already hear the sirens of the ambulance that approach .... I said, how to answer the cheeses to the simple question "how are you?". I'll try, then I expect answers from you just as crazy (so I send the nurses at home).


Crescenza - "I'm putting on too many pounds, I'm overweight!"


Stracchino - "I'm dead tired"


Toma - "I fell and I got evil "(from" make a toma " in Milan means "joke giò", ie fall)


Grana - "I'm on the verge of financial collapse. Big trouble! "


Gruyere -" My analyst says I'm full of holes sentimental "


Gorgonzola -" You get older! My grandson says I'm a moldy Methuselah "


Parmigiano -" I feel fit, "Mascarpone


-" I'm not at all in shape! "


Pecorino - "From there I give ... know what I mean, eh ....?!?"


Formaggino My - "I'm looking for a space of self-realization"


to you, select group of caciofoli ...!! !!!!!!



posted by: morton0 on: Joke or Madness?
posted on the Blog Pen Ink 03/01/2007

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Thursday, September 20, 2007

How Much An Opthamologist Costs

TELL ME WHY ...


Big Creek, West Virginia. The local police, after received an anonymous phone call, breaks into a house in a secluded, where it exits staggering Megan Williams, a twenty color, than with black eyes and a faint voice calling for help. She will tell after the central have been made the subject of abuse and torture for a week of having been sexually abused and had been repeatedly stabbed in the leg and close the neck with a rope, it was forced to eat feces of rats and dogs and drinking water from the toilet bowl.


A group of six people, including a mother and son, with whom Megan had had an affair with her clipped, mother-daughter and two other boys, all those with criminal records (something like 108 charges) held the girl hostage, subjecting it to various forms of torture, probably not even the most diabolical minds could distant perspective.


What is hidden behind a crime so heinous? What reasons can we find, assuming that it is lawful to do so, they can somehow help us understand what is behind it, without lapsing into the usual "feel-good psychology", always ready to justify what in fact has no reason to be justified? In this case, one can speak of racial hatred, or perhaps of social deprivation, or even lucid and macabre madness? Certainly
behind is a substrate of poverty, surely the psychological mechanisms that govern these acts are of a highly pathological, but I am in difficulty, if not in disagreement, to invoke racial hatred as a sole or main engine free of this barbarism.


For professional bias would be rather inclined to think about the psychological dynamics associated with psychopathic personality, although the brutality of the violence opens up horizons that may relate more closely psychiatry. A macabre ingredient this story is undoubtedly the sadism : these individuals (in this case would call people too) who acted for the sake of it, moved by the pleasure of causing pain and, above all, to exercise a kind of total domination over the person of the victim . Never mind that the color was poor Megan: Megan could be white, black, yellow or blue, communist, Jewish, fascist, the most important thing was to enslave the girl, dehumanization, which make it an object of pleasure . Not an end outside, just a desire to extend free the act (the sadist does not kill, the sadistic torture for a look at this report), to take advantage of internal that is at the service of his personality.




There is a second key element that makes the whole incredible story. All this happened under the direction of Death of a woman of 49 years, Frankie Brewster, mother of Megan former boyfriend, convicted in 1994 for first degree murder, and has served the sentence with six years' imprisonment in this ... point you may well ask: Why so mild a punishment for an offense that bad? As a mitigating factor, such mechanisms proceedings, such as "psychiatric dancers" or such alleged conduct may have justified a reduced sentence so? We have no evidence to answer these questions, as well as do not have enough information. Returning to our story, the upstream can be a symbiotic relationship with his son to background phobic, which may have led him to believe that she was responsible for having inflicted a deep wound in his narcissistic (and, therefore, to kick symbiotic, even to itself) that dramatically affects the degree of suggestion exercised by this subject to the group and how it created a sort of bond of hypnotic fascination, such as to ensure that everyone behaves according to its prescriptive injunctions.


Finally, of course, the group , this consists of individuals with different products, but made homogeneous by the presence of certain common denominators: psychopathy, degradation and poverty, histories of abuse and mistreatment and provoked and, above all, a criminal record of consistent size.
The group as a herd, the group that attacks and eats the same sacrificial meal, in an escalation that feeds on itself seamlessly .


What about all this? Regardless of possible causes of an analytical research, academic, and perhaps affected, but in some respects a duty to avoid making erroneous attribution (groped to understand it is better to refuse to understand), we must reaffirm that psychological understanding should not in any way interfere with the course of justice (groped to understand does not mean to justify and excuse), which must still runs track and severity of absolute rigor . There are no excuses, only reasons that should make us reflect on the need to operate primarily in terms of prevention, second sentence rehabilitation. Between despair, disbelief, profound sadness, and, above all, lots and lots of anger, a thought Megan and now must travel the road to win back a minimum of confidence in humanity that injured and disfigured, which is still called upon to join


posted by: morton0 to: JOKE OR MADNESS?


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