Footage From Rocco's Big Mess

The scope of logistics and serious offenders and Igor

I thought, as he does not want the thing ... Logistics has become a pod to 'the day. So much so that even the mafia has taken over the logistics of your system, perhaps long before any large corporation.


This I'll tell you, is a true story, without revealing names, real places, not to get into a mess of the devil or the police or the criminals "serious" ... Yes Leite em well. There are serious offenders and do not speak the honest family man who leaves at 10 pm at docks' pa 'hold' his wife of 16 years of age and 3 year old son. No. I'm talking about the Lords offenders, with university-The "S" 'walk fit, because pue'se ma 1 - perhaps hata' with MBA. Of these gentlemen we hear every day, but did not differentiate the honest man / worker, because we only describe it as the stupid bandit who steals a salami from a grocery store, which takes your phone or wallet or who steals a chicken a patio ... but those "officials" of the state that have signed with multinational companies, million-dollar contracts without even reading the terms (ups!) ... Oh .... media Well, that's another story. Go with the story:

I had a cousin, and I say had, because if I say that I have I can still 'bring' problem, you know ... - their family, not me, nor my family wanted to take it lived 'pa' Nueva Yol. The boy had battery problem as 10 shekels chip on which mango is not your visa with the consulate. What did the family?; Logical!, Go to the generous help of the Mafia travel legal-or illegal, depends on the eye of the beholder, these generous gentlemen charged a $ 10 000 tululuce pa out 'the boy the country' paper ' legitimate. " Ute guess' ta be wondering how. Let me tell you that I also do the spoils' question because I do not fall hook.

The modus operandi of these individuals is as follows: Johnny, it was called that was my cousin, total, passing the mime 'in to' the cousin to be pa'fuera-this is the plan, we'll give your papers, crisp 'without maco or anything. " All I ask is that you follow these steps:

1-You will arrive at the airport in Santo Domingo, find an agent infiltrated our migration, is gate # 2, this one will tell him your name and you know it makes the buddy ', he gonna let' Montao ' on the plane and to 'the pod, so there perdedera pa' ti.

2-You arrive at the airport and you'll Puertorro ta 'Eperara' another undercover agent of ours, in row # 4. When you see him, tell him your name and go. The handles to 'and leaves you Montao' in the plane leaving for Nueba Yol.

3-Pisces gringo land and we find another agent who works for migration and the kid's going to ta 'Eperara'. He will take care of to the sheath, even hata 'the "tasi" will you take home to your family that you ta' Eperara 'there.

Vite that easy?; Hata 'I told you in your lenguaraje omitting to' the "S", short to 'the word pa' you will arrive as e '. Well?

To which Johnny replies: That ta 'easy. Ma difficult was the goat rob me of my country 'beyond the Limón.

Ok ... Juanito goes well cambiata 'the campuno, goes to the AILA and there buca' her man and is the # 1 spot perfectly. Mounted on his plane and heads to Puerto Rico. There lands, but the dizziness and the feeling of cold air + December the dude gets nervous and forgets the second part of the plan. Go crazy and enters a office where an officer is granted. The officer tells him: Lord, you can not enter here. This area is for authorized personnel. Johnny replies: Oh poldi 'help me to' toy peldio 'and does not know'!, Had to find me a man and now does not 'walk khayal'. Juanito-shit, that mess jejejeje "The officer replies: Let me see your papers. Ok, are in order. Let me see how I help. You have a phone number of a relative or friend here on the island?, Juanito says: Yes, her mother was agreed that, before leaving, he gave him, in case something was wrong when he came to Puerto Rico, a cell phone, with a single number engraving, her aunt Clementina, who lives there.

Na '. Juanito gives the phone the good man they call the aunt and the woman picks up at the airport and there ta 'the poor fellow going crazy do not know when suddenly a call comes into the house of the aunt, Mrs. . Clementina? He speaks the Logistics Manager of Puerto Rico branch of the Mafia legal travel. Juanito is there? ", The old woman says, Juanito, is for you boy ... come. Johnny answers the phone and says: But come here 'muchacho'el devil, but e' ere you crazy or what?, we told you not clear what you should do?, what the hell you doing there?, eh?!, we have a person at the airport waiting for fucking crazy!; out there at the entrance your aunt's house there are two gentlemen dressed in black, waiting, they go in a Lincoln Continental will lead you back to the airport to complete the journey from hell boy ... pay attention to what you're told, so stupid cunt ...

Na, and here in New Yol Juanito ta thank the logistics department of the Mafia passports, with branches in several countries. 'I walk Enter the concept of "serious offenders"?; Note that people tracked Juanito, until he came to NY. To these gentlemen would have been easy to say stupid Ete not follow the plan, we earn 10 000 nag facilitated ... but ... for them the concept of quality, service level and tracking is more important than money itself ...

Happy Birthday To My Daughter Sayings

Pour this
autumn sun to power its light
shreds of gold leaf.

Falls from the sky on the canvas

the stagnant water, a flame

distant fire consume my eyes.


In vibrant waters have been tainted by the wind, the embers of that

sky sketching a
pubis and numinous Panida
whose image is bartered
while walking alone.


Tarquin A smell is perceived on the shore and a hollow sound


refluxed in a stirring water

morning milk in the vast rocky bowl
this lake.

There, in the pine forest
a heron in flight comes in its flapping
gloss
a desire to oblivion veils

wings of divinity. Tapping

rods fully

this huge accent
calm that holds me happy ...


Alcañiz, October 2010.

Erethramycin How Long Does It Take To Work?

THE SEALED NEW IN PARIS. TO THE TOMB OF OR IS

were returning, after nineteen years, back to the streets of Paris my wife and me. At that time it was the dream come true for travelers newlyweds wedding, and now the gift from my wife by my half-century, accompanied by my two children, although most at the last minute could not join us.

The streets, the same monuments, the same pleasure of the language, the same rapture to work as The Raft of the Medusa , the Victory of Samothrace or Code Hammurabi, among many others, the same rain, although stations antipodes was then spring, just released, it was now autumn, wet and girt with promise. All the same, and so different, like ourselves.


The gift included "I do not deserve so much, not only the" recherche du temps perdu ", and live this with my children, but by attending a spectacular staging of Verdi's Aida at the Stade de France directed by Charles Roubaud, with the excellent soprano Adina Aaron, and a visit to the Grande Palais to enjoy a retrospective of Claude Monet. Claude Monet

deserves a specific comment, as well as hearing of various body parts at Notre Dame, but I would stop at our visit to the cemetery of Montparnasse. In the spring of 91 we visited, under a fine rain of Montmartre, approaching the graves of Renan, Berlioz, Stendhal, Heine, Degas, Zola, De Vigny, or Truffaut, among others. At the southern end now visited Montparnasse, also from the fine drizzle that brought us the strength Vallejo's poem, there upheld. We went to visit, of course, the tomb of Cortazar, who wrote an excellent article about the cemeteries of Paris and the reading of which caused our first visit, "Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, Baudelaire, Cioran, Tzara, Duras, or Sontag.

Walking toward the Cimetière, on the Boulevard Edgar Quinet, we saw the tall poplars lush, and I wanted to see the tangled roots crowded in the basement, see the bowels of the earth together with those of men. It was a peaceful stroll, breathing the air cool and clean the air of life in the city of the dead.

Once we decided to leave I noticed a tomb from which emerged a small olive tree, rooted in her, a tiny green olives. I went and saw a small sign containing words of the dark Presocratic of Ephesus, the beloved Heraclitus: "You trouverais ne pas les limits de l'âme, même toutes parcourant les routes, tant elle tient a profond discours. "
was beautiful, how replete beauty. And then I saw who lived there: Cornelius Castoriadis 1922-1997.

I read it in 80 years when I started my studies in Philosophy Pure-as we said then, when I was interested in the German self-governing movement and closely followed the thoughts of Wolfgang Harich and Manuel Sacristán in the journal Meanwhile . I was attracted and committed his incisive analysis of social behaviors, intituciones of capitalist society and its proposals libertarian emancipation. His concept of "social imaginaire" helped me to prepare a paper on the "birth State "I made for the subject of Anthropology on the thought of Pierre Clastres.

has rained much! And to continue raining and authors like Castoriadis soak us with the seed of his ideas and the courage and the boldness of his life .