Veure canvis en la gent i voler obviar-los perque Instagram és un medi nefast were creedcsn ~~~ somnis daurats de Yule ball a Yantarnaya Komnata (Russian: Янтарная комната, German: Bernsteinzimmer, Polish: Bursztynowa komnata)

[–]xyrymyry 3 puntos hace 9 horas So who is supposed to be recording it? The cuffed consellers or the police insulting? Their lawyers job is not to go around carrying a GoPro in its forehead hoping to catch institutional misconduct and, anyways, in many places he doesn’t have access. You exhibit deeply rooted intellectual dishonesty and it’s scary. You seem to think that police is not aware of what constitutes professional misconduct and don’t just wait to exert their violence when they are free from repercussions. Requesting proof is fine when it’s plausible, possible (in the consellers hands to record its handling) and not against the law the record the treatment received by our very own police force. You are just siding with the one aggressing to fit you moral blind sports. Despicable. Yeah, might tone might not be the best but then again, you can represent yourself while my representation has to bear a cell and hostile environment because they dared to defend a political option (read JxS program). So yeah, you can demand proof as much as you want but L’infern n’és ple de bones intencions.

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PD: I’m not usually that punyent but then again, in that ocasion I was drunkymad. I’m a shit tier human being myself. 


.a softer world

Truman’s Diary on the Atomic Bomb
Digital History ID 1186

Author:   Harry S. Truman

Annotation: In 1945, Harry S. Truman faced one of the most difficult decisions a President has ever had to make. Franklin D. Roosevelt’s death in April 1945 had made Truman President. Nazi Germany had been defeated, and now the new chief exective had to decide how best to end the war with Japan. “I have to decide Japanese strategy,” he wrote in his diary, “–shall we invade Japan proper or shall we bomb and blockade.”

Truman was told that Japan was prepared to fight to the end rather than surrender. Some officials believed that U.S. bombing raids, which had already killed hundreds of thousands of people, would defeat Japan. Others felt that the United States would have to invade Japan at the cost of tens of thousands of casualities. Then, less than two weeks after becoming President, he was informed about a secret project to develop an atomic bomb. On July 16, 1945, Truman learned that the weapon with the power of thousands of tons of TNT had been successfully tested.

The United States and Britain gave Japan an ultimatum: surrender or face total destruction. When the Japanese government failed to respond, Truman authorized the use of the bomb. When asked to give his formal approval, he wrote without hesitation: “Suggestion approved. Release when ready.”

Document: We have discovered the most terrible bomb in the history of the world. It may be the fire destruction prophesied in the Euphrates Valley Era, after Noah and his fabulous Ark.

Anyway we “think” we have found the way to cause a disintegration of the atom. An experiment in the New Mexico desert was startling – to put it mildly. Thirteen pounds of the explosive caused the complete disintegration of a steel tower 60 feet high, created a crater 6 feet deep and 1,200 feet in diameter, knocked over a steel tower 1/2 mile away and knocked men down 10,000 yards away. The explosion was visible for more than 200 miles and audible for 40 miles and more.

This weapon is to be used against Japan between now and August 10th. I have told the Sec. of War, Mr. Stimson, to use it so that military objectives and soldiers and sailors are the target and not women and children. Even if the Japs are savages, ruthless, merciless and fanatic, we as the leader of the world for the common welfare cannot drop that terrible bomb on the old capital or the new.

He and I are in accord. The target will be a purely military one and we will issue a warning statement asking the Japs to surrender and save lives. I’m sure they will not do that, but we will have given them the chance. It is certainly a good thing for the world that Hitler’s crowd or Stalin’s did not discover this atomic bomb. It seems to be the most terrible thing ever discovered, but it can be made the most useful.

Leeroy Jenkings HD into DFW dephts

Subject: Fw: To Comfort The Disturbed, and to Disturb the Comfortable !!
To Comfort The Disturbed, and to Disturb the Comfortable: Onward children of the sun
By Cesar A. Cruz, 1997

Daddy, why is Mommy hangin’ from a tree?

the torture chambers of our minds
the plight
of might…

she called out my name in Tienamien Square
and I tried not to listen.
I saw his mother raped in Burma…
and all I could do was vomit
the disgust, the anger,
the rage, the fear…
my weak body felt numb…
where to turn,
where to run…

a peace accord was signed in Guatemala
with blood dripping from torture chambers,
of the disappeared,
pleas for peace.
a piece of savagery awakened the vast land,
as the flames,
the scorched earth
stretched its roots
to the south and yet El Salvador, Nicaragua,
Honduras, and Panama would not listen…

a child in Bosnia picked up a rifle,
cocked, reloaded and shot his own
for there was
no other alternative…
his father’s last words
ring clear,
night and day,
day and night
as the young soldier,
must rage on.
Get it over with… I want to die in my homeland…
a free man… the wound is too severe… do it for our country…

The military Gestapo arrived to ethnically
the heathen population.

Calcutta cried, wept as our mother sat in a death bed
awaiting the inevitable.

ashes fell upon South Africa
as the turnover,
was complete on paper,
and now slavery would have to entail
a blueprint similar to America’s…

make it legal…
make the details
(for us to)


by the

The cries of boardroom execs
competing to hire prison cons
strengthening multi-national corporations,
and the ghetto child wondering
why she/he deserves such
in America’s
prison industrial complex….

the prophet planted a seed,
and Pinoy sisters and brothers
took aim at the coming of kalayaan…

they held hands

and drank the blood of
an endless river of
y of tears of pain,
of survival, of oppression…
of liberation..

the revolutionary sister took the A-train
down past the underground tunnel
y aligned her troops,
seized Macchu-Picchu,
y Tenochtitlan and still
had time to catch the nearest exhibit
of pre-European Western art
at the local prison for indigenous treasures…
a west ern museum.

the little African girl
held her Bosnian brothers hand
as they saw the local newsreel
of resistance in Chiapas….
they smiled and the crystal
phoenix rose above their eyes
shattering the physical demise
of the commercialization of revolution

its spirit soared awakening Cambodian
teachers to shut down the local TV station
for showing another episode of Baywatch!

the Haitian refugee sought a light,
a gleam, an audience…
asking the Japanese elder to remind
America that internment camps were alive and well..
another detention camp just went up
for illegal slave aliens toiling the back fields
of a worldwide economy…

the little Mexican girl asked her tata:
Porque esta colgada mi madre de ese arbol?
her father, tried not to lose the deep end
and replied,
Tu madre quizo un poco de paz…

Your mother wanted a piece of peace…
but what she got
was a worldwide
of torture,
of rape, of splattered corpses
whose trail spawned
the winds of the east,
and the air conditioners of the west…

she sought…to
to give…
but her roots..,
her struggle
her awakening
had flown out of
the theaters like
a cheap B-movie
whose turn was to hit the shelves.

She just wasn’t marketable.

on the third day her spirit rose above ground
and a Taiwanese farmer planted her seed on the ground…

its rebirth,
the corn,
fed her people
as the rage of the storm ensued…

the young phoenix spread its wings
and delivered nutrients across vast lands,
crossing fictional borders
without even carrying a green card…
it landed on plymouth rock
and saw Tecumseh,
and Tupac Amaru,
awaiting the coming of prophecy….

el maiz habia renacido…
the corn had risen and the people
y were once again fertile…

the winds of rage sought to destroy
freeways in LA, and
skyscrapers in Tokyo…
but the people of East Timor would not be moved…

the free ways in which the earth shook
drowned those who dared not listen
to the call of the maz…
typhoons, tornadoes, and hurricanes,

a new seed,
a change being sung
by a homeless man in Philly
who sought spare change…
and yet all you could do was walk away….

the pain,
the rage,
is staring us in the face,
and yet,
we proclaim
democracy is only a step away.

our facade of democracy
is the world’s reality
of starvation,
and savagery….

and yet,
amidst the rage of the storm
lies the roots
of our change,
our humanity,
our growth,
our hope,
our faith,

for revolution,
for peace,
made entirely
out of corn…
hecha de maiz y el corazon.


WMAHMO is love, wmahmo is life.

Malgrat saber que no és excusa, no puc evitar deixar de dir que he hagut de entregar aquest treball tant pobre debut a conflictes de organització amb les obligacions amb [] y la falta de temps que aquestes m’han generat. Només dir que a la próxima avaluació (ja lliure de []) m’hi esforçaré més per compensar. Mes meves més sinceres disculpes.






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“Acudit sobre Franco (finals dels seixanta)

— per Avi Joan

  • En què s’assembla un cuarto de bany i Franco?


En un cuarto de bany hi han cañeries y tuberies; i a Franco: l’estobaries i l’escanyaries!”