Enrico Rubboli

Abbiamo Vittorio Mangano che viene assunto come stalliere nella villa di Silvio Berlusconi ad arcore su suggerimento di Marcello Dell’Utri. Vittorio Mangano è morto in carcere, condannato per diversi reati tra cui traffico di stupefacenti ed estorsione, era segnalato come uomo d’onore appartenente a Cosa Nostra. Qui sopra l’ultima intervista rilasciata da Paolo Borsellino prima di essere ammazzato, vi erano indagini in corso su Silvio Berlusconi, Marcello Dell’Utri e Vittorio Mangano, quest’ultimo viene definito “testa di ponte dell’organizzazione mafiosa nel Nord d’Italia“, e nell’indagine in corso le intercettazioni parlano di un carico di eroina (chiamati cavalli) da consegnare in un’albergo di Milano. Oggi Silvio Berlusconi è Presidente del Consiglio per la terza volta, Marcello Dell’Utri senatore, Paolo Borsellino e Giuseppe Falcone sono invece morti rispettivamente nella Strage di via D’amelio e nella Strage di Capaci. Silvio Berlusconi e Marcello Dell’Utri hanno pubblicamente dichiarato che Vittorio Mangano è stato un’eroe, perchè anche sul punto di morte non ha fatto i loro nomi.

“Maroni dovrebbe fare quel che feci io quand’ero ministro dell’Interno. In primo luogo, lasciare perdere gli studenti dei licei, perchè pensi a cosa succederebbe se un ragazzino rimanesse ucciso o gravemente ferito… Lasciarli fare (gli universitari, ndr). Ritirare le forze di Polizia dalle strade e dalle Università, infiltrare il movimento con agenti provocatori pronti a tutto, e lasciare che per una decina di giorni i manifestanti devastino i negozi, diano fuoco alle macchine e mettano a ferro e fuoco le città. Dopo di che, forti del consenso popolare, il suono delle sirene delle ambulanze dovrà sovrastare quello delle auto di Polizia e Carabinieri. Nel senso che le forze dell’ordine non dovrebbero avere pietà e mandarli tutti in ospedale. Non arrestarli, che tanto poi i magistrati li rimetterebbero subito in libertà, ma picchiarli e picchiare anche quei docenti che li fomentano. Soprattutto i docenti. Non dico quelli anziani, certo, ma le maestre ragazzine sì… questa è la ricetta democratica: spegnere la fiamma prima che divampi l’incendio”.

Intervista a Francesco Cossiga. Presidente emerito della Repubblica Italiana e senatore a vita

Purtroppo siamo guidati da vecchi tonti, talmente affossati nelle loro sporche poltroncine da non riuscire a capire cosa stia succedendo. L’era dei sistemi piramidali, del saccheggio dell’ambiente, della ristagnazione tecnologica devono finire . Il futuro dovrà essere un’energia ed una comunicazione distribuita, dovrà essere lo sviluppo tecnologico, la valorizzazione del capitale naturale.

L’Italia sostiene che il costo della battaglia per la stabilizzazione del clima è troppo alto, che la difesa dell’ecologia affonda l’economia. Risponde Jeremy Rifkin: “E’ vero esattamente il contrario: solo il green business è in grado di far ripartire l’economia perché non siamo di fronte a una difficoltà congiunturale ma al passaggio tra due ere. Un momento molto simile al 1929, anche se stavolta è peggio: allora c’era una crisi economica, oggi si sommano tre diverse crisi. La crisi del sistema creditizio, la crisi energetica e la crisi provocata dal riscaldamento globale. Però un’analogia con il 1929 c’è ed è fondamentale perché dà il segno del tempo che viviamo. Il ’29 corrisponde al passaggio tra la prima e la seconda rivoluzione industriale, tra il vapore e l’elettricità. E’ stata una rivoluzione profonda che ha causato grandi sommovimenti sociali e la seconda guerra mondiale”

“Stiamo passando dalla seconda alla terza rivoluzione industriale. Quello che si è appena aperto è il secolo di Internet e dell’energia dolce prodotta nei quartieri, nelle case. Passiamo da un modello centrato sulle autostrade a uno centrato sulle superstrade dei bit. Non comprendere il senso di questo cambiamento significa esserne tagliati fuori”

Intervento di Gianni Barbacetto al dibattito pubblico “Mafia e potere a Milano. A 100 passi dal Duomo” tenutosi a Milano, nella sala Alessi di Palazzo Marino, il 16 settembre 2008, in occasione del 30° anniversario della morte di Peppino Impastato. L’evento è stato organizzato dai Gruppi Consiliari Uniti con Dario Fo per Milano e Rifondazione Comunista.

Sono stato a fare la spesa poco fa.. ho comprato del pane.. alla cassa ho detto che avrebbe pagato Dio, ho specificato che è stato il Papa a suggerirlo.. non mi hanno creduto.. :(  ho dovuto usare la mia carta di credito dell’Unicredit.. non cè più religione in questo mondo!

who know the answer ?

0,0,1,1,1,1,2,1,1,1,2,1,2,1,2,2,1,1,2,1,2,2,2,1,2,1,2,1,2,1

3,1,1,2,2,2,2,1,2,2,2,1,3,1,2,2,2,1,2,1,2,2,2,1,2,2,2,2,2,1

3,1,2,2,1,2,3,1,2,2,3,1,2,1,2,2,2,2,3,1,2,1,2,1,3,2,2,2,2,1

3,2,2,2,2,2,2,1,2,2,2,1,3,1,2,3,2,1,2,1,3,2,2,1,3,2,2,2,2,2

3,1,2,2,2,1,3,1,1,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,2,1,3,1,3,2,2,2,2,2,2,2,2,1

3,1,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,2,2,2,2,1,2,3,2,1,3,1,3,2,2,1,3,2,2,2,2,1

3,1,3,2,2,2,3,2,2,2,3,1,2,1,2,3,2,1,3,1,2,2,2,2,3,2,2,2,2,2

4,1,2,2,2,2,2,2,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,2,2,1,3,1,3,3,2,1,3,2,2,2,3,1

3,1,2,1,2,2,3,2,2,2,2,1,3,2,2,3,1,1,3,2,3,2,2,1,3,2,3,2,2,1

3,1,2,3,2,2,3,1,2,2,3,1,3,1,2,3,3,2,2,1,3,2,2,1,3,2,2,2,2,2

3,2,2,2,2,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,1,2,3,2,1,3,2,2,2,3,2,2,2,2,2,2,2

4,1,2,2,2,2,3,1,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,3,2,1,3,1,3,2,2,1,3,2,2,3,2,1

3,1,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,2,3,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,3,1,3,2,2,1,2,3,2,2,2,1

4,2,2,2,2,2,3,1,2,3,2,1,3,2,2,2,3,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,3,2,2,2,3,1

4,1,2,2,2,2,3,2,2,3,3,1,2,1,3,3,2,2,3,1,3,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,2,1

3,2,2,2,2,3,3,1,2,2,3,1,4,1,2,3,2,1,3,2,3,2,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,1

3,2,2,3,2,2,2,1,2,2,3,1,3,2,3,3,2,2,3,1,2,2,2,1,3,2,3,2,2,1

4,2,1,2,2,2,3,2,3,2,3,1,3,1,2,3,2,2,3,1,3,2,3,2,3,2,2,2,2,2

3,1,2,2,2,2,4,1,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,3,2,1,3,2,3,3,2,1,3,2,2,2,2,1

4,1,3,2,3,2,2,1,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,3,2,1,3,2,3,2,2,1,3,3,2,2,3,1

3,1,3,2,2,2,3,1,2,3,3,2,3,1,2,3,3,1,3,1,3,2,2,2,3,1,2,3,2,2

4,1,2,2,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,1,3,1,3,3,3,1,2,2,3,3,2,1,3,2,2,2,3,1

4,1,2,3,2,3,3,2,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,2,2,1,3,2,3,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,2,2

4,1,2,3,2,2,3,2,2,2,3,1,3,2,2,3,2,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,4,3,2,2,2,1

3,2,2,2,2,2,3,1,3,1,3,2,3,1,2,3,2,2,3,1,3,3,3,1,3,2,2,2,3,2

3,1,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,3,3,1,3,2,2,3,2,2,2,1,4,2,2,1,3,2,2,3,2,2

4,2,3,2,2,2,3,1,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,3,2,1,4,2,2,2,2,2,3,3,3,2,2,1

3,1,3,2,3,2,3,2,2,3,3,1,3,1,2,3,3,1,3,1,3,2,2,2,3,2,3,2,2,1

4,1,2,2,2,2,3,2,2,2,3,2,3,1,3,3,2,1,4,1,3,3,2,1,2,2,2,2,3,2

4,2,2,2,3,2,3,1,2,2,3,1,3,1,3,3,2,1,3,2,3,2,2,2,3,2,2,3,2,2

3,2,3,3,2,2,3,1,2,2,4,1,3,2,2,3,2,2,3,1,3,2,2,2,4,2,2,2,2,1

yes,
us people are just poems
we’re 90% metaphor
with a leanness of meaning
approaching hyper-distillation
and once upon a time
we were moonshine
rushing down the throat of a giraffe
yes, rushing down the long hallway
despite what the p.a. announcement says
yes, rushing down the long stairs
with the whiskey of eternity
fermented and distilled
to eighteen minutes
burning down our throats
down the hall
down the stairs
in a building so tall
that it will always be there
yes, it’s part of a pair
there on the bow of Noah’s ark
the most prestigious couple
just kickin back parked
against a perfectly blue sky
on a morning beatific
in its Indian summer breeze
on the day that America
fell to its knees
after strutting around for a century
without saying thank you
or please

and the shock was subsonic
and the smoke was deafening
between the setup and the punch line
cuz we were all on time for work that day
we all boarded that plane for it to fly
and then while the fires were raging
we all climbed up on the windowsill
and then we all held hands
and jumped into the sky

and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar
looked more like war than anything I’ve seen so far
so far
so far
so fierce and ingenious
a poetic specter so far gone
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling
over ‘oh my god’ and ‘this is unbelievable’ and on and on
and I’ll tell you what, while we’re at it
you can keep the pentagon
keep the propaganda
keep each and every TV
that’s been trying to convince me
to participate
in some prep school punk’s plan to perpetuate retribution
perpetuate retribution
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution
is still hanging in the air
and there’s ash on our shoes
and there’s ash in our hair
and there’s a fine silt on every mantle
from hell’s kitchen to Brooklyn
and the streets are full of stories
sudden twists and near misses
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters
with tales of narrowly averted disasters
and the whiskey is flowin
like never before
as all over the country
folks just shake their heads
and pour

so here’s a toast to all the folks who live in Palestine
Afghanistan
Iraq

El Salvador

here’s a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation
under the stone cold gaze of mt. Rushmore

here’s a toast to all those nurses and doctors
who daily provide women with a choice
who stand down a threat the size of Oklahoma City
just to listen to a young woman’s voice

here’s a toast to all the folks on death row right now
awaiting the executioner’s guillotine
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads
to find peace in the form of a dream

cuz take away our playstations
and we are a third world nation
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son
who stole the oval office and that phony election
I mean
it don’t take a weatherman
to look around and see the weather
Jeb said he’d deliver Florida, folks
and boy did he ever

and we hold these truths to be self evident:
#1 George W. Bush is not president
#2 America is not a true democracy
#3 the media is not fooling me
cuz I am a poem heeding hyper-distillation
I’ve got no room for a lie so verbose
I’m looking out over my whole human family
and I’m raising my glass in a toast

here’s to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
I dream of touring like Duke Ellington
in my own railroad car
I dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches
in a grand station aglow with grace
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face

give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
so it’s time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
and clear the air
get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand
of someone else’s desert
put it back in its pants
and quit the hypocritical chants of
freedom forever

cuz when one lone phone rang
in two thousand and one
at ten after nine
on nine one one
which is the number we all called
when that lone phone rang right off the wall
right off our desk and down the long hall
down the long stairs
in a building so tall
that the whole world turned
just to watch it fall

and while we’re at it
remember the first time around?
the bomb?
the Ryder truck?
the parking garage?
the princess that didn’t even feel the pea?
remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?

can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design
following a fantastical reversal of the New York skyline?!

it was a joke, of course
it was a joke
at the time
and that was just a few years ago
so let the record show
that the FBI was all over that case
that the plot was obvious and in everybody’s face
and scoping that scene
religiously
the CIA
or is it KGB?
committing countless crimes against humanity
with this kind of eventuality
as its excuse
for abuse after expensive abuse
and it didn’t have a clue
look, another window to see through
way up here
on the 104th floor
look
another key
another door
10% literal
90% metaphor
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day
must be more than poems
in some asshole’s passion play
so now it’s your job
and it’s my job
to make it that way
to make sure they didn’t die in vain
sshhhhhh….
baby listen
hear the train?

Se lo dice il grande maestro della finanza creativa… ci credo. Ora sono  veramente molto più tranquillo, tutto il mondo trema, ma io sono tranquillo. D’altronde la mia banca dove tengo i miei risparmi ha perso solo il 10% 2 giorni fa,  ma oggi ha recuperato tutto -fibrillazione-!