Gay marriage in Italy: the forward escape

Stories and News No. 663

Following Grosseto’s Mayor decision to approve judging Court’s resolution about the transcript of a same sex marriage, the Italian Episcopal Conference has declared: "Marriage is the union between a man and a woman, who come stable together in a public form, with an openness to life and education of children. The attempt to deny this reality through the Courts is a jerk, a dangerous forward escape... "
That’s dedicated to all the fugitives of this world.

Here we are.
Honestly, we were here.
Invisible to most people, as the essence of our lives.
The spontaneous feeling like the suddenly color.
But this doesn’t mean we do not exist.
That we cannot suffer.
Running, only running you might understand.
Seeing really.
What to be us means.
Us, open eyelids forever.
With gaze perennially beyond what the eye shows.
Innocent witness to the mediocre reality.
Straight legs, the never relaxed muscles.
The arms in defense of what remains.
Shaking belly by courage.
And the chest as the last shield in the field.
To protect the precious treasure.
The heart?
No, we are not in a romantic novel, here.
We have never been worthy of.
But the treasure exists, it is definitely there.
You cannot expect that it can be described with two phrases, no matter how sincere they are.
Yes, it's true.
We're on the run.
Since our first cry, that was silent.
The breath in the throat was too much sine then.
Fast creatures.
Read it as the escapees from the world of slowness.
Here we are.
We are there.
Well, we were, there.
Delicate shadows among the horizon's mirages.
Forward, as far forward as possible, we go.
But it is not a choice.
It never was.
Being born and run.
Only living is.
Just like let live.
The others...

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One million visitors video thank you

Stories and News No. 662

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Journalist killed in Afghanistan: Anja Niedringhaus missing photos

Stories and News No. 661

The German journalist of the Associated Press, Anja Niedringhaus, 2005 Pulitzer Prize in Breaking News Photography, was killed in Afghanistan.
In recent years, the woman brought her camera in many places where war and internal strife have left behind suffering and poverty.
From Afghanistan to Iraq, from the Gaza Strip to Israel, from Pakistan to Turkey.
These words are for her…

Yes, they are important.
They must be viewed with care.
Taking all the time.
Because between aggressors and offended there is always space.
Sufficient space to do something.
Even putting an end to the carnage.
However, to do so we need to understand.
We need to see.
Well, run, Anja, run and shoot.
Actually, no.
Stand still where you are, very still.
Because this time needs a steady hand.
Or maybe because sometimes deserving attention life comes to you.
Does it sound easy, telling so, right?
It is not.
It's never easy to be found in your house, where the truth is knocking on the door of your home.
Because it really takes courage to build it where the former lives.
The so overlooked truth.
Of the images.
Yes, I’m talking about them.
In the world that has made them as the most deadly weapon of distraction.
Mass distraction?
No, the individual, just the individual.
Detaching him from the essential, his similar one and vice versa.
Well, those images are not worthy of the name and Anja has always known.
As well as a hot embrace stolen by an accomplice paparazzo, to give luster to the nth alleged celebrity, deserves no comparison with also the shortest moment of intimate encounter between two purely disinterested bodies.
Read as to really make love.
Now the album of captured stories reached the end of its days.
A single snapshot seems now head on the others.
Your picture, Anja, possibly with the camera, in plain sight.
However, if this is the time of remembrance, then we’ll remember what we could not see through your eyes.
The countless remnants of lives in motion, that invaded your mind as your heart, surviving the flashes.
Not less true than the others.
Quite the contrary.
Goodbye to you, Anja.
And to all the valuable missing photos...

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Illegal immigration what is it really video

Stories and News No. 660

What is illegal immigration?
When I enter a country illegally, I make a criminal action.
I'm guilty.
That’s what the law said.
I was wrong.
I did something unacceptable.
That should not be made.
It should be punished.
I have to be punished.
A reminder to me and the others.
So that the guilty action will never be made again.
I am not ironic or sarcastic, there is no hidden implication in my words.
I am convinced.
Let's be honest, come on.
Image that I were a supermodel with blue eyes and blonde, brunette or red but also with important measures. Watch me now passing the borders illegally.
Come one, you would find a paper for me.
A paper? I would suddenly be in some movie or music video strictly half-naked.
And if by chance I could arrive with my boat on the shores of your coast and at the same time I could prove to be special at sports, you will be soon able to accept me.
Read it as the paradox of the sport clandestine.
If then, I would arrive without any paper, but being an oil sheik decided to invest my money in your country, who would dare to report me at the police station?
That is the same for the Chinese entrepreneur or the Russian business man.
I could go on, but I guess it's clear where this is going.
If I am an illegal immigrant…
I'm guilty.
Because I went illegally in a foreign country.
But my real guilt is another one, right?
I apologize for this.
Forgive me if at the moment I can only offer my poverty.
Because when you complain about me, I know that this is what offends you.
My poverty.
If only I had been born less poor...

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Third gender story of the minor anecdotes

Stories and News No. 659

The news comes from Australia.
As you can read on Internet today, Norrie’s request was granted by the High Court, while it was denied by the registrar.
The right not to have any reference to his gender on the identity papers.
Norrie was born male, after became de facto female, until reaching the recent conquest.
So, here is the minor anecdotes' story…

Once upon a time there was a man.
Actually, no.
A woman.
Or maybe I'm wrong again?
Okay, that is not essential in the story.
I go on.
Once upon a time there was someone.
There was...
If I say was, though it is common way, could mean that someone is no longer alive now.
How should I know it? How could I be sure about this? I have no idea how the story will finish.
If I knew, what fun would I have telling it?
So, from the beginning.
Once upon a time there is someone.
Why limit myself already in the incipit?
It is not wise, indeed, it is not forward-looking.
It could affect the best route, that would drive the narrative toward desirable destinations for those who yearn to successfully storytelling.
Read as the remaining pages.
Okay, let’s start over.
There is someone.
Someone is going somewhere.
What did I say before?
No limits, especially at first.
There is someone going everywhere.
And suddenly someone meets her...
Oops, I did it again.
Try to understand. Meeting a girl is what shakes the plot, to me.
But what am I here?
Nothing, it's not my story.
I must not make this mistake.
Worse, this pity.
Fairly widespread, indeed.
Convincing ourselves that everything happens around us.
I immediately remedy.
There is someone going everywhere.
And suddenly someone meets someone.
Great, now it works perfectly.
Because everyone can be protagonist.
And no one could be excluded.
From the story…

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Earth Hour Day 2014 according to Daubentonia madagascariensis

Stories and News No. 658

Saturday, March 29 will be the eighth Earth Hour Day, an event organized by WWF to raise awareness about the global warming problem.
In particular, it aims to increase energy savings, since the organizers consider it accountable for the high temperature of the planet, inviting participants to turn off the lights at a specific time of the day.
However, if the fate of the planet is at stake and if we speak about Earth Hour, I think we must give space to the point of view of those who have less attention than us.
Indeed, not having any guilt about what is happening, they should have more...

Aye - Aye.
This is my common name.
Daubentonia madagascariensis, for the record.
The Slow, for friends.
No hard feelings, that’s clear.
I'm slow, I'm not ashamed.
I always have been.
Last to arrive.
And last to enter.
Last to go up.
And, above all, the last to understand, that’s clear.
That’s why I hope you will be lenient if understanding you will be hard to me.
I reach a right idea of my parents ever after, let alone those who will always be the aliens to us, that’s clear.
The true extraterrestrials, that’s what you are.
You are our Martians, but that's another story.
It’s the fact that you will turn off the light all together, but not really all. Just all those who agree with it, that’s clear.
Or that’s not, to me, in the sense that I don’t see the point.
Anyway, sorry for the umpteenth repetition.
It’s because of my slowness, that’s clear.
I'm so slow, so slow that I forget I have already used an expression recently, even in the same sentence.
As you may have guessed, it often happens with that’s clear.
The psychologist told me that it must be because I am nocturnal and also because that’s clear are so strange words to me.
I don’t quite understand what they mean.
The day I sleep, that’s clear.
Except when I go to the psychologist, who receives only in the morning, because the night is already following a hysterical family of bats, all cracked.
I see you sleepy, today, he says at the beginning of each session. Should I change your medications?
He’s a genius. Maybe I have to change the shrink, not the drugs.
Anyway, I would like to get to the point of the story, that’s clear.
Forgive me if I get here only now.
I told you I 'm slow, right?
So, the fact of turning off the light seems to me a good thing.
That is, if you care about earth temperature seems to me a good thing.
Actually, no. It seems logical.
What I cannot understand is why you need to do it again the following year.
That’s clear, I made some assumptions.
I am slow, not stupid.
For me they are basically two.
Or there are still so many people among you who, if the earth is hot, don’t feel it at all.
Or they are very few, but they are the only ones who can really change things.
Well, but you should turn off the light to them, every light.
I want to see then if they do not care.
That’s seems perfectly clear to me.

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