Newsgroup: it.cultura.filosofia
Titolo: Re: PROPONGO  UN  SONDAGGIO..............

 kappa
La sinistra, ossia gli intellettuali, poich� a destra � difficile essere
delle teste pensanti, si sta riorganizzando.
Il problema non � salvare il PD.
Il problema � salvarci da Mr.B o altri fac-simile.
A volte mi sembra di svegliarmi in un incubo.
Poi mi ricordo che l'Italia ha insegnato a leggere e scrivere a tutto il
mondo e riguadagno il mio solito ottimismo della ragione.
E' passato il ventennio fascista.
Passer� anche la destra al potere.
Per rimanere la destra al potere necessiteranno solo i militari.
Ma i militari -in Italia- non sono quelli del Cile, almeno spero.
Saluti,
L

 Ma i militari -in Italia- non sono quelli del Cile, almeno spero.
....ok....si � riaddormentato a giudicare dal "sonno della Ragione" che 
dimostra.......:))) 

 Non sono scemi...sono solo sfigati....ahahahahah
Perchï¿œ ad essere scemi ci pensano giï¿œ quelli come te.
-- 
       Giuseppe

So I'm on my way to work and I stop to watch a pigeon fight a rat in the
snow, and some fuckhead tries to mug me! Naturally there's a gun. He comes
up behind me and sticks it into the base of my skull. It's cold, and it
actually feels sort of good, in an acupressure kind of way. "Take it easy,
Doc," he says.
Which explains that, at least. Even at five in the morning, I'm not the
kind of guy you mug. I look like an Easter Island sculpture of a
longshoreman. But the fuckhead can see the blue scrub pants under my
overcoat, and the ventilated green plastic clogs, so he thinks I've got
drugs and money on me. And maybe that I've taken some kind of oath not to
kick his fuckhead ass for tryinome kind of oath not to kick his fuckhead
ass for trying to mug me.
I barely have enough drugs and money to get me through the day. And the
only oath I took, as I recall, was to first do no harm. I'm thinking we're
past that point.
"Okay," I say, raising my hands.
The rat and the pigeon run away. Chickenshits.
I turn around, which rolls the gun off my skull and leaves my raised right
hand above the fuckhead's arm. I wrap his elbow and jerk upwards, causing
the ligaments to pop like champagne corks.
Let's take a moment to smell the rose known as the elbow.
The two bones of the forearm, the ulna and the radius, move independently
of each other, and also rotate. You can see this by turning your hand from
palm up, in which position the ulna and radius are parallel, to palm down,
where they're crossed into an "X."[1] They therefore require a complicated
anchoring system at the elbow, with the ligaments wrapping the various
bone ends in spoolable and unspoolable ribbons that look like the tape on
the handle of a tennis racket. It's a shame to tear these ligaments apart.
But the fuckhead and I have a worse problem right now. Namely that while
my right hand has been fucking up his elbow, my left,having somehow come
into position by my right ear, is now hooking toward his throat in a
knife-edge.
If it hits, it will crush the fragile rings of cartilage that keep his
trachea open against the vacuum of breathing in. Next time he tries, his
windpipe will clench shut like an anus, leaving him at ReaperTime minus
maybe six minutes. Even if I ruin my Propulsatil pen trying to trache him.
So I beg and plead, and coax the trajectory of my hand upwards. Past the
point where it's aiming for his chin, or even his mouth�which would have
been disgusting�to where it's aiming for his nose.
Which caves in like wet clay. Wet clay with twigs in it. The fuckhead
crashes to the pavement, unconscious.
I check to make sure I'm calm�I am, I'm just annoyed�before getting
heavily to my knees down next to him. In this kind of work, as in every
kind of work, probably, planning and composure are worth a lot more than
speed.Not that this particular situation requires much planning or
composure. I roll the fuckhead onto his side so he won't choke to death,
and bend the arm that isn't broken under his head to keep his face off the
frozen sidewalk. Then I check to make sure he's still breathing. He is, in
fact with a bubbly joie de vivre. Also the pulses at his wrists and ankles
are reasonably strong.
So, as is usual in these situations, I imagine asking the Great One�Prof.
Marmoset�whether I can leave now.
And, as is also usual in these situations, I imagine Prof. Marmoset saying
No, and What would you do if he was your brother?
I sigh. I don't have a brother. But I know what he's getting at.
I put my knee into the guy's fucked-up elbow and pull the bones as far
apart as the tendons feel likely to bear, then let them come slowly back
together into their positions of least resistance. It makes the fuckhead
groan in pain in his sleep, but whatever: they'd just do the same to him
in the ER, only by then he'd be awake.
I frisk him for a cell phone. No such luck, of course, and I'm not about
to use my own. If I did have a brother, would he want me getting hassled
by the cops?
---
[1] And you can compare this to your lower leg, where the same setup is
vestigial. The two bones of the lower leg, the tibia and fibula, are
locked in place. The outer one, the fibula, doesn't even support weight.
In fact you can take most of it out�to use as a graft or whatever�and as
long as you don't fuck up theankle or the knee, it won't affect the
patient's ability to walk.
-- 
come to the dark side 
(we have cookies)
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...rispostina "de caz"....:)) 

 delle teste pensanti, si sta riorganizzando.
visto che date tutto gratis,
compresi i giudizi,
sarebbe possibile uscire
dalla Coop senza pagare
un cazzo?
Sai mi farebbe comodo.....
ciao
Massimo Buttafoco 

 un cazzo?
Vai a comprare alla Coop per risparmiare? Vergognati!

...� che fare regalini a quella troia di tua moglie costa...... 

 L 

 
sciolagna, l'alter ego di pugnetta...due leccamerda in uno

...ecco....� arrivato pure il fratello scemo di Cip.... 

 ha scritto nel messaggio 
news:7c0rk0F...@mid.individual.net...

EPPERCHE' SI RISPARMIA??? 

 Ma i militari -in Italia- non sono quelli del Cile, almeno spero.
Bravo finalmente uno che ci spiega come va il mondo :-))))))))))))))) 
-- 
Tullio De Mauro - Dizionario della lingua italiana - foibe:
Depressione carsica a forma di imbuto... al fondo della quale si apre
un inghiottitoio, usato come fossa comune per occultare cadaveri di
vittime di eventi bellici.



Manila l'alter ego di nanomerdoso :-)))
ciao sono Gargiulo quello che te lo mette nel culo!!!!!!


Massimo 456b ha scritto:

Allora perche' caspita ci vai? Per finanziare i comunisti?

 
Frocio anche tu?

 ha scritto nel messaggio 
news:7c2lonF...@mid.individual.net...

mai capitato di essere sottoposto alle
angherie di una dolce met�?? sob
ciao
Massimo