Blue Blockers Theme Song

Dum da dum da dum ... Der Frankfurter

... and if you are among those few in the world, as myself, think it would be nice to follow Brandford Marsalis, at the end of "Englishman in New York " Sting, the streets of the Big Apple in 1987, alone, while continuing to play his sax all night, you deserve everything my infinite respect, whoever you are.

(photo copyright: Alexander Kagan)

Leaner Mirror Secured To The Wall?

" If I have an ambition other Than A desire to be a chronic invalid, It Would Be to meet everybody in the world before I die ... and I'm not doing badly."

As closure of the arc in decline in this period of my life, I find myself under the lights of Frankfurt, to do work that, incredibly, still no effect devastating side to my psyche and my body. Leaving behind an old life, cathartic principle, we must dissolve some of the nodes, or the departure is an escape, and the joints, usually do not carry very far.

So something has ended, something else, however, is open. It always happens like that, even if you never know how it all will be well, and is more or less a matter of instinct. Whoever says otherwise, unfortunately, is a cowardly liar. The beauty lies in the surprise, because you never know what you will, though, sometimes but not always, remember that you will quit.

My Life as German starts this month, though perhaps my life as a non-Italian was started so long ago certain truths discovered by a teenager - and not just, as one might mistakenly think, defeat Italy Italy during '90, which also was instrumental in the loss of faith in football, I think.

I must say that I riflettutto the snow. If the cold persists, the snow is not nearly as fickle as it is usually painted. He manages to keep the memory footprint for a long time, longer than you think. Only if the leaves from freezing, the snow fades his memory with it. I prefer the snow. It's not like the sand, which is in constant motion, and leaves no trace of life, even if the condition persists, the cause ... and maybe that's the wind that creates the architect of his poor memory. I prefer the snow, because with her, and with the cold, can not go wrong, while the rest you can always come to terms.

something, this surely must mean.

E 'thinking about the snow that closes the triptych of reflections on myself that I dared report in this space a few days ago that, while apparently quite the contrary, the end is not a sfogatoio, but only a point of high gravity which are added the heavy thoughts, those that could not be read because unpronounceable and unlistenable.

Englishman In New York

I don't drink coffee I take tea my dear

I like my toast done on one side

And you can hear it in my accent when I talk

I'm an Englishman in New York

See me walking down Fifth Avenue

A walking cane here at my side

I take it everywhere I walk

I'm an Englishman in New York

I'm an alien I'm a legal alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

I'm an alien I'm a legal alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

If, "Manners maketh man" as someone said

Then he's the hero of the day

It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile

Be yourself no matter what they say

I'm an alien I'm a legal alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

I'm an alien I'm a legal alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

Modesty, propriety can lead to notoriety

You could end up as the only one

Gentleness, sobriety are rare in this society

At night a candle's brighter than the sun

Takes more than combat gear to make a man

Takes more than a license for a gun

Confront your enemies, avoid them when you can

A gentleman will walk but never run

If, "Manners maketh man" as someone said

Then he's the hero of the day

It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile

Be yourself no matter what they say

I'm an alien I'm a legal alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

I'm an I'm a legal alien alien

I'm an Englishman in New York

Factory Sound Bank Missing

World doubts

" You can win a war in two
And maybe even alone
And you can take out the hearts of even the most black murderess
But it is more difficult to change an 'idea ... "

Litfiba - Apapaia

A man comes to a fork in the road, stopping, he meets another man.
The first asks the second: "Where are you from?"
And the second: "Where are you from you instead."
- "I've just seen it coming, you know where I come from. I, however, I have met here. I did not see the direction from which you came."
- "Are you sure that I know?"
- "Yes, you saw me!"

many times in life we \u200b\u200brealize that most of the world's ills come from the impossibility that sometimes shows a man trying to understand others. Ideas are like coal: where to look black and dirty, who instead of fuel with which to ignite the revolution to other still, however, seem to be the remains of something else, and finally, which is also those who seek to use that coal to stoke the flames in his own way.
Every idea has its foundation precisely, which may be right and wrong, everything starts from pressupposto perspective, the vantage point from which it is decided that the eye must launch his eye. Without the necessary background, it immediately alters perception, and you can not have an objective view. Just lean a little, and everything starts to look different. The black is mixed with white, white was not really much compared to what it seemed. Those who have decided not to accept the premise from the outset in formalizing an idea within the context of its mind? Few, very few.
why I would leave the concept of the idea of \u200b\u200bdogma, and make two distinct and separate. The ideas are free, wandering, aimlessly, and anyone can own them and turn them into their own vision, but remains free and permeable to any other influence. The dogmas, however, are not imposed by stereoscopic vision, but the monocular, which fail to perceive the depth and that are rooted in the familiar concepts of fear, because they have the fear of losing the precarious balance of not being able to identify. So things turn ideas into real estate, and prevent them from becoming continuously, as they should.
Only recently, reflecting on many things occurred in my life, I realized that the reason of the philosophers is that there is no certain knowledge, and that everything is beautiful because unknown, and as far as we know, in the end, it always elude our full understanding, because we have no power of perception as to penetrate the entire essence.
This suggests to us that all our idea, as it may seem powerful, wise and just, is itself a phenomenon fraught with unknowns, and therefore anyone can help shed light would be welcome.
Without knowing this truth, but it will not be an absolute right under the same principle that the soul, by instinct I have always shunned beliefs and ideologies, even in times of life in which society, through institutions and the fashions of the moment, pouring into the individual a set of notions, partly valid, partly distorted by clichés, leading the person to choose the own battlefield.
Doubt ... instead it is certainly the beginning of everything, the root of that curiosity is the mother of all knowledge and human knowledge. And through the doubt, the awareness that they can not understand the whole state of things, neither right nor wrong, nor right or wrong.
This absolutism is an evolutionary dead end, both in thought and in kind. It is possible, but must be seen in relation to a greater or lesser presence of doubt. Climbing through the Platonic idea and concept of the absolute value of some fact of reality, one thing I can venture that is sure if the doubts that surround it are smaller than another thing.
So, I face my life full of doubt, not certainty but looking further questions. I encourage those around me trying to figure out why things, and why we behave in certain ways or accept some things a priori, without question.
Everything worth of being investigated.
It is good to let every thought has at least a part of its foundation vulnerable to infiltration of doubt, because every idea has to be changed forever. It seems
protreptic a speech, but in reality is something else, something much more practical. There is in it the key to bringing the diverse misunderstood, mothers of all discord, and to reveal a deep and important discovery, on which I have stumbled almost by chance: do not have anything in common, at times, to build something, and often contrary to what one believes is the result of bad will that preclude the path of change, or dogmas that block the flow of water through dams made of fears and anxieties.
I start with the thought that universal brotherhood is possible, where every person can realize that it is wrong, in every part of his argument there is an error background, and that all his actions are likely incorrect.
Maybe so, everyone would trust more than the other.

The man smiled at the crossroads, telling him he was wrong.
- "Why would I wrong?"
- "Because I am blind. I did not see where you came from. But you saw me here already, and then you have an advantage over me, because when I know where I'll be moving in the future and where I started. "
The man who had reached second smiled, because he was so convinced of what was said to be more of who was really blind.