Emu Bronte Or Stinger?

Certain things are done today because tomorrow we will grow: let the Net

Un estratto dell'editoriale di Riccardo Luna su "Wired" di novembre.

Nel posto dove vogliamo andare non abbiamo bisogno di strade, o di ponti sullo Stretto, ma di autostrade dell'informazione. Di una grande Internet che colleghi davvero tutta l'Italia, compiendo una nuova unità 150 anni dopo: il Nord e il Sud, i ricchi e i poveri, i giovani e gli anziani. Quelli che sanno cos'è Internet and those who have not yet understood. A single network that redistributes opportunities and hopes, by linking projects and knowledge. Instead of rewarding the most talented of the most recommended. Creating wealth.

The rest of the world runs and in this place called the future there is already going with conviction. Blessed are the children born in Seoul or Singapore, but also in Finland, because their horizons are wider. But we are still, still. Indifferent. But the time has come to take it this thing. Wake up, Italy! Let the Net

not expect the government that more has not been able to spend a few million to bring on a minimum Who today does not even have that: almost six million people. And do not even expect that the Parliament was unable to devote one session to try to understand why four out of ten Italians could use the Internet and do not. Digital ignorance? If so it seems to me a rare case of certain correspondence between voters and their elected representatives. A national plan for broadband will never be there. Lacks culture, lacks interest. Or maybe the network frightens those in power. Have you ever seen that would serve as a springboard to an Italian Obama?

16 billion are needed. Many? It depends. Five years autoblu not miss it if there were no tomorrow. Or a flight of fighter-bombers, or the infamous bridge. It 's a matter of choice, priority. Unfortunately, without strong political will, a national plan is impossible. The telecom operators do their job which does not coincide with the interests of nearly ever country. It is not the same in this case where it is putting a lot of money to earn in ten years. Why should hurry up and wired Italy as a private operator Telecom that previous managers have left bloodless?

And so the answer is: we go on, piano, pianissimo, where there is market and profit is certain. With the excuse that even today you do not use all the old network available. As if to make our railways grandparents had expected that there were passengers in a row. Or to make the highways, there was a car for every family. Some things are done today because tomorrow we will grow.

point. So, who's next? To us, that is, mayors, presidents of the provinces, regions, chambers of commerce, industry associations. And even the unions: who represents workers, temporary workers and retirees say, take back the advertising slogan "Internet for all" for the next event, if you read it speaks well of development work and non-tariffs for mobile phones.

Let us take the net, then. If you can not make a plan for Italy, which will make a plan for each region. Call it digital federalism: it depends on us.

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BIRD PADULA


This is the story of a bird which is
escaped from the brothel by
Setteponti Pracchia
down to the cage of an ugly
that young man gave to escape
then in Java that is on an uncharted island

from a life a bit 'expired
that sells for very little money
and feeds on memories of innocence of a child

that ran in the morning and finds himself then
Old
toothless and dry throughout
to regret the past
all that it be given. The old

finally died

is now out of the door to go to the cemetery to rest under a taper

and the bird that has escaped

knocked at your door open too crooked straight apron all
good and bad
with his dreams of castles
gold, cars and jewelry
dall'Orsigna
and America to escape
Then you wake up to find that you are old
to Tafona and without an eye or
Tavistock
all broken and battered but you seemed ill

you wore a phoenix from Beatrice
but what knocked
is a bird that says is unfortunate
and is similar to posology
all'allodola
Padulo
because everyone calls him Unto you it in the ass

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COMFORT 'MONTANA

Nice to wake up to make merry with


take the car to go to the butcher and the baker

and go to work
a fire
open a ball

The important thing is to go softly,
control this fire
cuciniam sausages, hand me the wine

What are you doing here?


It's cold in hot weather I'm hungry

I've got thirst

no wind no rain last night

am tired this morning



tomorrow evening that he


but that their
but you

you but you do work? Today

no way, you start tomorrow

last
be done here is I've got them well

stayed here we eat the bread

pass me the cheese you get that? Check that fire

someone comes

Ah, take the shovel has run you?


Come eat the sausages are cooked
supports the blade
them makes us' mushrooms

let you stay here you go if someone comes

me a ring I was shitting

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APPENNINO FREE

If I 'were free I'd put the problem
but since they are not free,
m'invento a place called the Apennines, as if one were

also is free to
immaginarmici above happy.
And I tell this story,
to raise them with me,
suffering that I feel here ...


Once there were 3 riders ch'alla aspired to freedom.
no more wealth, more power not only freedom,
is said that never was, a bargaining chip.
There were no damsels in castles locked
for these riders and a war was fought
not seem obvious that winning the prize had freedom.
Chasing a dream so forth, fought and won.
convinced that the war was the 3 riders lying
stood waiting
hoped the prize, and soon in the same condition that Asked freedom found themselves.
Frustration and depression took their hearts the
and soon thinking about the glorious past
they said that war was Freedom
and without anything more to do battle fought between them, reproaching
defeat.
And freedom always seemed younger and far,
while they were making their aging
of time which inexorably passed.
Then it seemed their own freedom youth
Needless to say, I again took the disappointment:
the seasons of life are those and nothing can stop them.
would spring eternal if it were?

Moriron fought their mind and never returned to the land
imagined called the Apennines,
Free as imperative verb, because even dream
on their face heart ache for the inviolability ,
own and demonstrated the same dream.


this would seem a sad story,
cavalier that everything they did to embrace freedom.
But what freedom is not so much fatigue you can grab
servon find one?
would understand the freedom that I try to explain here,
if I told you there was once a a lived happily ever after? Futile
was then the story of three riders who moriron fist?

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IGNORANT'ECCAFONE

Asshole Piece of shit Fuck


Caproni
Hypocrites
Dirty Faces

Coward
fuck ass
stoned
Sparaballe
Charlatans
Desperate
Bullshit
Sheep Raw

Zotico
Rileccato
Shit
Esos
Rottinculo
shit
dick pussy

Saws


Who was the first asshole a few generations ago that's right fuck off to send in its entirety the previous generation, in honor of freedom, emancipation, by virtue of economic security, status the middle class?
If it was "one" was a piece of shit: the ways of his father goats are being replaced by methods of the hypocritical son and this is the radical improvement made by the generations. It goes on dad you were dirty, I am false scent.
If it was "one" as if to redeem its new women's situation was certainly a coward who saw the condition of the mother only the subject, without appreciating the virtues of strength and mother. Via
clears everything, is not improved, is not added, it sweeps away. Beello.

Now we have, we must fuck into old age. Looking for the man of the future will laugh at her ass and clown faces of these young women still stoned and these Latin lover in seventy years, with viagra. Sparaballe: it decomposes the face but the important thing is to feel beautiful. You have to be male Trombatore and there can not even keep up the pea. Charlatans.

Old men young Come back again, as if their youth had been a deprivation, a wrong that must be recovered from old and then we begin to do what young people today , perlamordiddio that are good, but also directly trained by the multinationals in the consumer front of the television, with Coke and pleistescion ... Maybe poor old man when you were young did you tumble a wheel with a stick or playing marbles or hide and seek. And sometimes I scream for the country did not disturb the desperate loneliness of isolated families in front of the monitor to a TV to watch the crap ...
know? But you understand that? Now you're approved, simply say to certain stimuli, is a sexual one, a reference to skylarks, then the calls of status, fame, void of thought ... as an active meditator ago: Clear your mind. you like it eh? But who knows what we talk about it?
sheep, a dog and shepherd the flock leader, oil or feudal duty, which is no longer identifiable in the castle on the hill in the capital.

Better crude and boorish that rileccato and refined ... or what he thought the worker? The r's were also dull, after buying TV, washing machine, oven, 2 cars, comfort and a holiday on the Riviera or the Dolomites? The revolt of the workers, mica underneath screaming "I love you !!!"?? Borghese The Borghese
that does not exist then, who is the middle class? It is not an illusion? In fact there are still only slaves, masters and a handful of people who often also free end of a shit?

The bourgeois is the slave. It 's a model of a slave, do not let the greedy, you have the evidence rottinculo.
Go to hell, but what the hell did you do? Streets to the right and then go home to tickle just bought the fingertips on the remote controls for controlling and giving the right setting for your new comfort, synonymous with law just won?
Did you pussy and you were doing saws

working masses together, the first step in the approval?

From the movie The Wall

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FLOOD PORTALS VIA

Both disasters servon simply cause damage to poeracci
and to enrich those who reconstructs
friends and associates and managers *
various short rains in the wet and the money goes to money. S
emprelasolitastori a. There are those who tremble
arrival of heavy rain
and who he rubs his hands hoping that face damage.
Before the community was working to put affixed
with the toil and labor, the community pays private
today with the same end. Without
merits of right and wrong.
's so or not?

There is damage? Someone fix it, someone has to fix
.
And everything falls gently from the top,
must fall,
everything is due.
And the logic of the work in the mountains is not logical: the
prevention,
practical way of living in this environment,
protection for the sustainable use of resources available.

They get patches,
remedy when it is later made into a problem, you care
evil.
No time to prevent,
no effort to understand the dynamics,
of "listening" to the territory, it's late


now you have to do
's fault ...

E 'fault of the institutions,
all capable of carrying only "meat" to constituents,
ignorant and unprepared, oligarchs and Masons deviated
vicious opportunists, slimy and corrupt.

E 'fault of the city, dazed
pending
aid of a man from heaven,
an order needs to be lobotomized
unreal
schizophrenic and paranoid,
idealist understood as "impractical," not at all humble
and asocial.

E 'blame the system,
advanced capitalist.
Tecnocapitalismo,
Young Middle Ages, oligarchy, dictatorship
terrible,
fiction, ham in the eye, wrap
democracy and despotic
heart without mercy, deceitful and cowardly,
subtle and refined, and global
contagious.

Faults ... There is always a need for a culprit,
good am I then,
or are you active or passive Tussi, you hope
and hoping to cancel the selection,
your choice, your responsibility to choose
and make sense, on the one hand, a direction.
you, you, anyone Tussi,
that a flood will carry away
and wholly unnecessary
leaving the essentials.



* without reference to any particular

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Inglor MOUNTAIN PISTOIESE

Pistoia Mountains
your glory is that it has hosted for nearly a century factory projettili?

E 'got the job! It 'got the job!
No mountain is one-way street poetry that reigned for centuries,
balance of men and women on your shores:
were people who knew how to get you, you rocked and you
albeit rough and hard cots. Now only
RESTAN
damned souls in their ignorance without past, without
ties with the territory,
generations who have denied your work, your efforts

to close a factory that has drained him and
stolen the soul, without your
sky above his head. There were poets before

octave rimeggiavano,
now only people frightened and secretive, jealous and envious,
ready to drop in the ass when you stoop for a moment.

history of migrations, everyone will flee
poetry is certainly not enough to eat there any
more steps ...
but you Pistoia mountains, wild
Pistoia Mountains
not your fault.
Men have built on your water and your
a green factory bullets
pastor and goodbye, goodbye peasant poet
goodbye goodbye sustainable existence.

The mountain rebels and drives you, not you
-man-who fled

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old shit


Watch you do not even sympathize a bit 'old
you that you did die with you your tradition
you who have consumed the future in the young fool ..
you to places you and you do not move.
dying with you your memory, you left because nobody
remember it.
Violence is not enough to appease my anger
my disgusting, filthy old rot. There is no divine justice

just action and reaction
then you already have what you deserve,
maybe just this idea of \u200b\u200brevenge as I am consoled for not having left anything

greedy and unnecessary cancer ...
your hope ... I'll leave you clean your ass after I