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The article I

THAT you are reading an article. You may wonder why this writer feels the need to specify - normally, the articles do not comment on their nature, they are first of all because the cover features the text form typical of journalism. Well, this writer wrote an article, make no mistake. The novelty lies in the absence of news. This article was not news, so that over the text you the owner "The death of news" or "discovered the item that has killed the news" and if you are particularly devoted to the traditional gold standard, incurable supporters of sensationalism, even "Today died the news" by adding a deadbolt to this effect: "The article admits: I am the 'murderess. " But if you thought that the writer you are striving to prove that journalism is dead wrong. Miserably. This article and nobody can prove otherwise, let alone kill journalism. Although it undermines all the rules that govern his writing, the article you read does his duty, shall carry out their duties. This morning he got up every morning and as he repeated as Yesterday's action taken every day. At first it appeared on the page with difficulty. Stretching and yawning. In the workplace, still rumpled from sleep, he leaned over the paper. He was disheveled. Not claiming to always impeccable cut, with the line moved slightly to one side that gives a sense of elegance but the impression of rigidity, which alludes to an intellectual openness but not a reckless confidence in the latest thinking; but the beginning was unpresentable. Unconnected sentences, syntax and stumbling - greatest sin that can meet beginning to read - the incipit was limp. Of those that are now shaking their heads at the head of service, because is not certain that will capture the reader's attention, do not grind to a halt to the page and along the way this conversation anthology of amenities always repeated and ill-considered that the consortium reserves the press eagerly budding young scribbler. So he blunt, a bit 'frowning has shrunk off the page, in the indefinite space of vertigo, which anticipates the writing of the word in the desert that measures the distance between the urgency of the word and its negation, in a cathedral of fatigue barricaded itself is free. The article you are reading is one of those types that ignore the reckless risk and the extent and consequences - are you've already got - chose the first dimension of vertigo. So it's back on the page, this time with more determination. Not that it was immune from uncertainty, headaches or sudden interruptions in the flow of thought, but this time there were props. The sheet was still dotted with the detritus of the first failure. A precious relic to spot the grid of the text (actually, the scheme design has been circumvented, but served to give comfort to the writer). And since the purpose is not to give news, rummaging through the debris of the ill-fated attempt to discover it was mainly intended article. The writer has now realized that the purpose was the same articles that have news: Even This article aims to inform. Indeed, the article describes and explains that no news article amplifies the power with which it is serving its purpose because it multiplies. Tell about the nature and genesis of an article and urges the emergence of its essence, that information himself. In fact, I've not yet said, but the article is me. That's right, the article you're reading is the author of the article. At the bottom you will not find the signature of a journalist because the article is written by myself. Not just here and now but always. You are your own newspaper to ratify our agreement. Talk with your colleagues or your neighbor's place on a bus and commenting read a story in the newspaper, you say that "you saw that story yesterday I read an article that said ... paralia of a mug of guilty .." So beware of those pompous editors who give themselves airs artificially by putting the names above or under me. Today is a memorable day because journalism is out of the closet. And, finally, I have the opportunity to claim my humble existence. For too long I let This instinct to remain confined in anonymity. Today, journalism is no longer the flimsy container vapor content. Today, the article talks about the article written by the article. And below is my signature.


Article

New Baby Congratulations Messages Fun

The tank-fatasma unattended station

VIAREGGIO - the station that no one asks why, at 23.30, a person crossing the tracks, headed toward homes collapsed. And no blocks on the 'other side of the railroad, while climbing a fence to reach the monster, the ghost tank June 29 gutted the heart of the city burning 28 lives. "It's all here when it happened, a lot of people come to see him every week, someone arrives at night," says Ross Leonelli, who lives in an apartment on Via Bottego, a few meters from the tracks.

It's midnight on Tuesday. Covered with a dark curtain, just wrapped in a red and white ribbon, the wagon of death is lying unattended at the end of a dead, beached in a metal shed next to a deposit of 'Imet with a sign that warns: "Under arrest'. Anyone could come here, take pictures, maybe even alter the tank to be subjected to appraisal to determine the responsibilities of the accident. A report this anomaly was the afternoon of Tuesday 's Avif, the Committee for assistance to victims of' train crash.

To reach the car, from which exile LPG fired a month ago, you drive along the quay on the first track, pursue and then cut upstream. The derailment area is bounded by a few meters of net orange. It 'simply go around it. A month after the disaster, the tank that sparked the 'apocalypse of Viareggio is still a few meters from the black tunnel and toothless in via Ponchielli, accessible from either side of the railway. There are no guards around to stop the curious.

There are gravel and scattered rocks on the tracks, the skeleton of an 'antenna wire, scrap metal and things that were barely more precise form. The rails can be seen the cover of an old warehouse, asbestos blackened and made more volatile by heat. Rossana blows dust on the roof of the house almost every day. Behind an old abandoned freight train and a freight elevator yellow, here is the tank. A cartridge monstrous and charred. "It seems to still hear the 'smell of gas," says Ross who stops beside a crumbling wall: "The more I do not go in there, it's dark and when I feel the passage of a train makes me shiver."

"The tank is still in custody but not c 'is the risk that someone has tampered with: it's already been referred to the findings of the experts and the carriage defect that caused the disaster is closed and sealed in a warehouse" says Leopoldo Laricchia, director of the police commissariat in Viareggio. Yesterday, however, appealed to the police station to step up security measures around the wagon. In the tangle of skills that are sung around the derailed freight, the prosecutor in Lucca is looking for all the potential liability. Then leave the technical findings.

Viareggio awaits justice. But it also wants to return to live, said Gianfranco Baldini, Chairman of the victims. You ask "why, a month after the massacre, via Ponchielli is still reinforced by order of the judiciary. The houses are destroyed or uninhabitable fifty. But there are more than 60 houses with some renovation work could go back to being habitable. And there are cars that could be recovered or assessment for the purpose of compensation, which is impossible until remain seized. A month seems more than enough to make an estimate of the damage. "

Posted by Mario on Blacks Florence Republic (07/30/2009)

Pokemon Yellow Multiplayer

the art fair challenge shots masterpieces

Forte dei Marmi - waiting, lurking. The hidden treasures in the luggage blindatissimi, the galleries are ready to raise. If a competitor raises the stakes, raise their shooting. Mercedes parked in front of the sports hall of Forte dei Marmi on Thursday at 18, when it began the second edition of ArteForte are hidden secrets millionaires wildcard waiting buyers better, maybe those with € 1 million to spend on a masterpiece of the twentieth century.

'Raising Helen' s issues, the dealers added paintings without even warn us, "says Domenico Monteforte, Fortemarmini painter since 2008, with his brother Gabriel and his friend Claudio Biondani, brings together 28 galleries from throughout Italy and from 'abroad. Jerome Zodo, merchant J & G at Milan Via Fatebenefratelli, Friday the main rival is the 'Imago Art in London, which in addition to a Chagall from € 750 thousand, and Manzù Manzoni, exhibited a still life by Morandi, 1953 . He wasted no time: the various De Chirico, Fontana, Guttuso and Boccioni, added a bronze in Hector and Andromache the metaphysical painter and a Morandi still life always, but in 1946.

"In just born exhibitions thus becomes: when it is not clear yet at what level, we studied a bit 'and maybe introduce works during the festival," says Zodo that to unleash the Trois femmes à la fontaine , one of Picasso '21, expects to see the pink fountain that Londoners continue to hold stock. Both estimated over one million euro. Turn, stare, the hand that torments her chin el 'expression for connoisseurs, the holiday of golden beach. "Of course, nothing to do with Basel Miami - says Simon, a consultant at a Milanese merchant - this is a fair small but growing. It reminds me Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, where he organized a similar white-collar workers in New York. "

The fair is open until tomorrow (10th-13th from 18 to 23.30 today, tomorrow, only 18 to 23.30, admission free, www.fierarteforte.com). Drew 2500 visitors in 2008: "It is a niche event for lovers of modern and contemporary art willing to pay a lot of money, and Forte are not lacking. And he had to make an 'alternative to prison in the center of the boutique, "concluded Monteforte, who speaks of a park works with a market value above 50 million. In order to monitor the security of the fair which takes wide-eyed 24-hour 24.

Posted by Blacks on Mario Florence Republic (26/07/2009)

What Comes Out Of A Dead Person's Nose

The auton

VIAREGGIO - In 1999 they crossed the Atlantic with a Volkswagen Passat and a Ford Taunus. Five thousand miles and 119 days of sailing in a mad flight on 'ocean from the Canaries to the Antilles. "This time, however, was a whole 'other story, a walk. Why have we stopped? "Ask the auton Marco Amoretti, 33, and Marcolino de Candia, 31. The two friends were stopped Sunday night by the Coast Guard to board their Viareggio Maserati Biturbo 's 82, fuchsia and renamed Miriam, while they were sailing off the coast of Forte dei Marmi.

After ten years had lowered the bar, the 'idea was to circumnavigate Italy rocking on the waves to 2 knots and 300 feet from shore. From Bocca di Magra had sailed at noon and the wind in their sails quietly: "As always, the captain or I'll Rogne with the authorities," joked the two thirtysomethings originating in Sarzana. No hurry, a port a day, wanted to head for Venice and landed with great fanfare in Piazza San Marco at the end of August.

'The idea was - say - but half of us have put swimmers. They felt the captaincy. "Help, help, c 'is a car crashed into the sea". " A patrol boat of the captaincy has caught up to them Forte dei Marmi: "Do not worry, we are experienced, navigated," said both the military.

But the Coast Guard escorted the supercar fuchsia floating in the port of Viareggio. "They had a boat license, insurance and safety equipment whatsoever. In addition, the vessel was not approved, "says the commander Fabrizio Rat Vacuer. Thus, the Maserati, equipped with a 9 horsepower Mercury engine, was arrested and fined. Amoretti de Candia, and were stunned: "It's not sinking, even though the break. We 've filled with polyurethane foam, the floats. What do you want it to happen - asked Amoretti - Ten years ago we crossed the 'ocean from La Palma Martinique: 119 days with the sea swelled, black, beautiful, endless, terrible, "he says. Now look at their docked Miriam: "To see her there makes my heart cry."

Posted by Mario on Blacks Florence Republic (22/07/2009)

Invitation To Attend Church Opening Letter

The king of the lifeguards

Forte dei Marmi - "It will be the tamarisk el 'salty smell that I can not take off my off, either d' winter. The rest, well, the rest ...». Have it engraved on the skin, Victor Giannotti, the indelible mark of a 'beach life. The youngest of nine brothers and son of one of the first dealers of bathroom in Versilia, is the town of Forte dei Marmi lifeguard. "I started to watch the sea at eighteen, c 'were the Fascists, but father founded the' Onda Marina in 1904."

Not what he says, "at 91 years old, leads me to come here every day, under the 'umbrella' on the threshold of the sea to scan the 'horizon. "Who says that our eyes are always focused on the swimmers tells fibs." In front of the temple of nature, Giannotti said, "you think, you breathe, the more often you remember." And his is a memory sucker: stretches to the dawn in waves of golden beach, then d 'sudden slips, splashes, wraps it in gusts of details and cameos. Just enough for a true story - and partial - of 'evolution Forte has always pulls luxury and elegant glow conceals ephemeral visibility and rapid declines.

"The lifeguards at the Fort were born out of necessity. On the beach were the ladies with the headset el 'parasol, all covered from head to foot, the children were bathing, and it happened that someone left the skin. " Thus was born the consortium of groups that gave rise to the baths. Families of fishermen, sailors, masters' ax, riparian and townspeople, those who even before the twentieth century had built the house in the dunes of sand and then found themselves a right of first refusal on the waves.

'residences that sees beyond the hills on a thorny wilderness that almost did not allow to live there. At Fort the state concessions for the 'beach were assigned to these families, or at least to those who wanted one. If the family was large stretch of coast was broader. Ours was the largest, 220 meters. Then there are the split between the heirs, but by focusing on the mica bathroom were fishermen. We went out with the seine, the sea was teeming with fish and that was our bread. " In 'collective imagination, the' hospitality resort is carved into the roaring fifties and Shed in the Revolution of costume at the beginning of economic boom. In fact - said the lifeguard - has ancient origins. "The first cabins were straw huts and sedges' built for the tourists who asked to change into a shelter for fishermen after bathing.

"The swallow the storm and those who resisted were made bonfires at the end of summer '." Giannotti of the sun is warming the Ruffo di Calabria, Liège and Paola Borghese in Rome. "Once Zita d 'Austria wanted to come out even though the boat had been freshly painted. When he returned to shore had the green and white striped costume. "

Then, in the Fascist period, the first tourist development. On the beaches are scanning the 'farmer tan tents sailing costumes "funny and awkward, sweaters and woolen knickers wrapped around the body. You saw the ladies who were in water, swelled in and out of costume all embarrassed ' Vittorio said. Who says he also saw the first scandal of 'elite socialite: "The first to take off his vest of white wool was Dr. Vanzetti, that of the sun treatment. He stood bare-chested and said that "under the sun, the men were all alike." The buckled a lot of people's names. For that time, was a smut. "

Then the war, three years on a frigate moored in Cefalù and the bombs that ripped apart the marble pedestal, "where lifeguards are we going to do the dives." The stirrings of the new Republic and maturity Fortemarmini the years' 60, although it was different "because we went down to the beach at five in the morning to plant one hundred umbrellas that you put it back in cabins in the evening. Every day like this. "

Giannotti reset the memories, creeps into the pine forests of the first encounters with amorous holiday, "where some ladies c 'has been cheated and he is fated to marry a waitress," until the swarm of speedboats and sailboats that could moor a few steps from the shore. Would like to close with the rioters at the Shed of youth Franceschi, but then come back again, to the 'simpering' of Gianni Agnelli, who "12 years already had a electric car and us fools who are running behind because he had promised to try to make it '.

Posted by Mario on Blacks Republic Florence (07/19/2009)

Grecian 2000side Effects

The face of Burlamacco

VIAREGGIO - If you can not see and walk, at least feel what is happening. In this July morning in September it seems, television and radio, for the few who could not reach the dock, are a painful consolation. They, too, so, participate in the mourning and the town turns into a bubble suspended, which slowly empties.

A sad pilgrimage, on foot and by bicycle, goes to the Stadio dei Pini. And if you look at it from within, the journey in Viareggio that celebrates the victims of the sinking of the fire, is a solitary journey through the deserted streets.

Shops, offices, bars and restaurants are closed. The shuttered, mute signs. Signs hanging from the windows invite the public to the 'last goodbye' and remember the time of the ceremony. At 11.10, in front of City Hall officials expect a pair of journalists who have not yet collected the pass: "Ten minutes and then we go home. Now there is nobody here, people are all there. " On a bench in Via Battisti Florentine two girls embark on a necklace: "No, we do not go to sea. Today is a good thing. It's time to pay tribute to the pain, start again tomorrow. "

Later, towards the market, a siren marks a truce to peace via Cavallotti unreal. In the burst of walking every day, no one should have noticed that the ice cream parlor The Penguin the fridge and that buzzing relentlessly to ruffle the tricolor draped in mourning by way of fans or air conditioners are Zanardelli the windows and the din of the south-west. "We do not feel to attend the funeral, we went our mothers," he confessed three kids under the arcades of Piazza Cavour empty. Will soon be the only ones wandering around here, because the newsagent Alfredo has nearly closed the kiosk. Fast, recount yields: "If I took care in time to arrive at the stadium too." They are all under the pines of the Viareggio Torquato Bresciani. The beaches offer their homage to the victims. Desolate never seen on the sunny coast of Versilia. In a sign of respect, the bathrooms were closed umbrellas.

"I have told us that vacationers will not be until the afternoon out of respect for the dead," says Simon Giannessi to Neptune. "You will not find a Viareggio," adds Simone Cortopassi, lifeguard at the Whale. He has just finished explaining to six Germans who may rent a tent from only three. Showed him the flags at half mast. Even in the prohibited tunnel via Ponchielli, with the escort of firemen, now you can walk. There are patches, merged things to things, and wreaths on the rubble. In

walk in the shadow cones of tents sparkle cocktail or ice cream. Liberty under the balconies vacationers (many) lost move. Burlamacco observe that always smiles. He, too, black-edged. And there are those who swear that on the night, between the hangar of the Citadel of the transient time has stopped and the paper mache mask symbol of the carnival has drawn a face.

Posted by Mario on Blacks Florence Republic (07/08/2009)