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Superblogger superploblemi

Few people in the world can be said to possess a superpower. Of those few, even less are not crazy mythomaniac who have read too many superhero comics.

Some have the superpower of the trumpet all the women who just shot the captain waving his wallet.
There are those who can stop time with a joke (no joke, my friend we could really).
There are those who can accurately predict the winner of an election simply by looking at who the candidates (in Italy it's easy).
Some people can make their dog shit exactly at the point where someone will rest the foot sheathed in new shoes.
There are those who can make credible their bullshit simply owning 99% of TV channels.

But these are all trivial superpowers. Just my superpower is a real curse .

I alone I can kill a fictional character simply choosing him as my favorite.

beginning, when I was little, unconsciously and do not exercise that power if we did too. In the nebulous memories of early life stands a figure with whom I had what I later learned to call quickie: I remember it well because it was the first time that I began to ask me questions.
It's this guy here:

E 'Sven, one of the pilots lions were going to join in robottoni Voltron. lasted about 4 episodes, during which I thought was very cool. Then he was seriously injured and disappeared, replaced by a chick with the pink jumpsuit, however, led the blue lion. Bitch.
Sven is not really dead. I suppose in those days my superpower was not fully developed .
The second manifestation of my superpower remember was when I read a novel titled "The Paul Street Boys." He spoke of a group of young people living in Hungary, playing in the street until they made a real war with a ball of mud against another gang, the "redcoats" for possession of a square where play . In Hungary there is obviously a great culture of playgrounds in the city, if the children are forced to take a sledgehammer to the few that are there. That time when I tried to, after about two chapters, elected to the smallest favorite character of the band, this Nemecsek, loser, misunderstood and even sickly. Because I had not chosen Boka, the charismatic foreman?
Maybe because I have always been the charismatic foreman run balls.
However, in this spectacular children's novel, that's the end Nemecseck crack his captain by heroically saving .....
from ...
from ...
a lot of mud balls .

He spent some time before in my life ever burst the Knights of the Zodiac. Everyone likes to Sirius, the man's view given that the light bulb turns on and off with a simple click, Phoenix or the sadist, who showed his love for his brother by filling it with heavy blows. I liked Crysta l, in the early episodes seemed to be the strongest of all, cool, confident. Obviously it was the first to die ignominiously (then came to life only at the cost of one night of passion with Andromeda).

Finally the full awareness of my terrible superpower caught me when reading the Lord of the Rings, I said to myself: "what I like Boromir!" From then
then the list of those who died because of me leaned dangerously. Obi Wan Kenobi , Toki of Ken (but there does not count, that if you were not Ken, morivi sure), Charlie of Lost , Rutger Hauer in Blade Runner , Flint in Dragonlance , Smerdjiakov in Karamazov, Sirius Black, Eddie in It , Rorscach in Watchmen, slut bitch, eg rsini Lion King Mufasa in .

you name one, was definitely my favorite. Probably
think that this superpower is useless. I thought so too until this morning.
When I discovered the existence of this .
hope that my cartoonist to retain a copy ....

Feeling Dizzy After 10 Min Run

with The Society of Sten, Chapter 2: Good against Evil Apocalypse


I think there we forget, right? But the Society of Sten back with the second chapter of his amazing adventures. For if those who were lost here can find the previous chapter. Happy reading!

A Nest only one person remembered because the forest that surrounded the village from three sides, touching the borders as a green sea, was called the Howling Woods. The inhabitants, as we have seen, was ultimately a mass of ignorant lemmings that when a child is ill with chickenpox, he thought the best way to cure it was to remove the edge of the blade parts of the skin where the concentration of bubbles .* It was most noticeable was the kind of people would begin to split hairs, in fact. Therefore if a forest is called the Howling Woods, the reason can only be one: that is full of howling beasts. That was certainly true.
fact is that the person who knew the history of Howling Forest Thurg the surgeon's name. ** Exercising a profession so important and profitable *** Thurg had lived a life of comfort and shelter misfortunes that happen to lemmings usually ignorant, and had arrived at the venerable age of 98 played. The only resident of Eagle's Nest Leoril older than he was. When she was 15, Thurg went camping with his brother in what was then called the peaceful woods at the time of planting stakes, a hammer Thurg gave full inch to his brother, who shouted in reply, his voice made tenor of pain, "Porco Silvanuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuus."
who passed these parts heard only the U, and hence the new name of the Wood. The news quickly made the rounds of the surrounding countryside, until it reached the ears of a pack of wolves old retired who thought it best to go and die in an appropriately named Bosco.
Thus the Quiet Woods became the Howling Woods and was populated by wolves, who wanted no more respectable bunch. Among the wolves had become a way of saying: "It is going to the Woods Howling" meant that the wolf was at least 3 of the 4 legs in the pit: and in most cases, in Howling Forest was really there.

Our intrepid Company Sten soon realized that starting the search at sunset is never a good idea. It means that parts of tired, and you never come a long way.
"where the tracks lead?" Sten asked to Pasgal, who was leaning with professional air about a lot of footsteps.
" The ports of shoes? " Pasgal asked, raising his head.
" 49 " said Sten Piedefino " why? "
" because it's about half an hour that we follow your own footprints " sighed Pasgal. " I had mistaken for those of orcs ."
Leoril began to whimper. Not that there was a special reason: the elves always whine at sunset. But others interpreted it as a sign that it was time to make camp.
Sten picked up the twigs and lit a small fire. Since I began to dream of putting up her company in Ventura, then waited more than any other time of the camp, according to its perfect Adventurer's Handbook, Third Edition, now take the form of greater aggregation of the group, in which one tells stories of men in front of a kid browning on the stove. Sten was invented out of whole cloth five stories by men, and was reviewed in mind when he realized, from annoying snoring, that his companions had taken his silence as a tacit consent to the question "do you do the first watch? ". Sten
So he found himself alone, and took the opportunity to invent stories from seven other men. Luckily he never had the chance to tell her that night: the fact manual did not specify that the term "History of Men" does not necessarily imply a scene of wild sex.
The round passed idly and woke Leoril Sten.
"Success anything? " asked Leoril stripicciandosi eyes.
"Nothing at all " answers Sten throwing lying. He fell asleep instantly, beginning to dream of a History of Men extremely foul involving three women, one of which, unfortunately, was cross-eyed elf.
Leoril proved not to have well understood the concept of "watch" when, bored, woke Pasgal first time for a chat.
" What's happening? " asked Pasgal sat up.
" No, I wanted to have a chat .... " he said, stopping when he noticed that the lightning came half-closed eyes of Pasgal. " I mean ... I heard footsteps muffled. "
Leoril Although he had lied, if indeed he had been listening to, the steps he would have felt really plush. Five wolves were closer to the blaze. There were five wolves retired, as usual Howling of the Wood: the old, rickety and toothless. Like all pensioners, not just something unusual happens, they came out of curiosity. Mass. The life of pensioner is boring.
Leoril had always boasted of his affinity with the animal world. A Nest had made a reputation because he could make a dog drool just a little bell ringing. The dog became an attraction Leoril motion that the life of the Eagle's Nest for a few weeks before he died of starvation. Thus, believed to play exactly the look listless and bored of the wolves when he cried shrilly:
"THEY WANT torn in pieces "
Pasgal he trusted Leoril and drew his sword, causing that effect domino that clerics of Knell, the god of War, had called the Iraq-effect: there is nothing better than violence to stoke a thirst for blood of your enemy. The wolves were heard bubbling guts: after those three human seemed very awake. They would have showed it to all who were still able to tear someone like the old days. Sten
When he opened his eyes and saw Leoril climbed a tree that throws a magic missile barrage, while Pasgal if he saw her with a pack of wolves mighty angry and ready for anything. He put his hand on his sword and lunged howling in turn. Cornelius
watched the scene with his distinctive look chewing cattle. He felt a great pain for those wolves that were mowed horribly decrepit three invasive menavano slashing blindly.
"The good has won!" Sten finally shouted raising his sword, his face covered with blood from the old muddy consistency.
"Look at this " said Pasgal examining what remained of the battered body of gray fur, the heroic wolf in his youth had saved a village of children defending alone by a horde of hungry Gnoll. "This was just the face bad " she continued raising her head carved out by the scars of that ancient battle.
" Staccagliela and give it to me here," said Sten " make a good impression on our fireplace "
" We do, we go back to sleep? " asked Leoril down from the tree.
" the sun will rise, continue the walk, now I woke up! " concluded Pasgal. The Society of
Sten had survived its baptism of fire. That first real battle, over the years, become the stories of Sten epic battle against an army of barbarians clothes skins of wolf, but already Leoril, five minutes later, he was saying:
" If it were not for my magic missile, they would have overwhelmed! I have killed eight all by itself, and I know that one was a werewolf in my opinion ... "

* This explains why in the Eagle's Nest varicella was gone: it's called natural selection.
** A Nest, surgeons are called Hunters: it seems that the art of skinning skins served to cure chickenpox, herpes and acne iuvenilis.
*** The price for the removal of skin healing purposes varied depending on the amount of skin to be removed. For varicella in an advanced state it seems that the crowds had been paid digit: one cow, one horse, three eggs and a bunch of turnip greens.

the next chapter!

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Chronicles: oh but in Rome ....


My current work situation requires me, from time to time, to make completely unnecessary detour in our wonderful capital.
When I go to Rome I can never not think back to a named tedescone Otto III. This, Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, could sit quietly at his home in Germany to get his affairs, be the life of Emperor, and be concubines (we are in the tenth century AD). But he had a sore Rome. What's hard to explain, given that Rome in those years had become a real crap at its: the sewers, built by the Romans (and here we need a capital letter), now regurgitated crap everywhere and no one knew to fix it. The bridge collapsed and they were so bad that reduced c'avevano even a Bertolasum any that assigns jobs to his friends. The people, to build houses, because he did not know where to take materials easily disassembled the monuments of the Caesars (which is why the Coliseum is a sieve: Fuck them joints of iron that held together the bricks). Half the city was used as a pasture: the only professionals were whores. But
Brass could not help but love this city now, from caput mundi, became caput nihilo. So he could not help but go back on holiday whenever he could. Once the Romans promised that he would won the Hadrian's Villa, a beautiful residence remained miraculously intact in that the Tivoli, but then goes back on the offer, perhaps for fear that the Romans (lowercase letter) dismantle that, as the Barracks Fire brigade of Lego, to make us a couple of Lego Brothels.
Now, the Romans put up with everything, but that's not are prevented from removing a building . So took to the streets and surrounded the palace of Otto, that poor man did not own a television and had to miss how he could defend himself. He looked desperately to the window, glanced at the angry Romans who demanded his head, and fired a monstrous pistolotto on how much he loved the city, how you would bring to its former glory, that he was an Emperor Worker.
Now, imagine what the fuck could hear all the Romans his talk at the time that there were not microphones. Probably only saw a blond guy standing at the window that moved her lips and pointed to the leaders of the revolt.
The Romans really like the guys who speak on the balconies. So
lynch-insurgency leaders, who would probably accept it willingly. I mean, he had said a guy on the balcony: I'm ready to bet that it would be lynched by themselves.

Well, I do not know if it has something to do, but this image of Rome is the one that haunts me every time I get off the train, and immerse myself in the Roman crowd.
Rule number one: never get an enemy who speaks from a balcony .
The Romans are people deeply immersed in its history. They may not know who was Leo I (who drove Attila speaking from a balcony fake) may have no idea who he was Caesar (who had no balconies on the day he was stabbed). But feel at a subliminal level, to be heirs of something big.
type that when you arrive in Rome and it's raining, you're concerned about getting time the meeting place, and ask around in 45 minutes if you can do by taking public transportation.
And all you say, "eh, it rains in Rome when the traffic doubles."
"But I take the bus that runs every 12 minutes, I should do it!"
"yeah, but Rome's bus pass when they want them."
"all right, take a taxi, hoping to pay as little as possible"
"yeah, but in Rome taxis cost a lot."

I climb into the taxi. The driver starts the meter and 2-euro something.
"yeah, but Rome is the base rate when starting from Termini," he says.
"Patience" I say. "I have to go away so and so, you know?"
"yeah, but in Rome is impossible to know all the streets. "It opens Tuttocittà.

Gambling timidly to tell the driver that I come from Naples, in Naples and also when it rains there is more traffic, the buses do as they like, and taxi drivers are thieves and the city is great.
"eh, not in Rome but can you imagine how much".

coming back to the Termini station, this time with the bus, look around. There's a lot of people do about his business and looks at you in the face.
while waiting for a train traveling gives me an umbrella to 2 €, I refuse politely.
then begins to rain, and another walking gives me the same umbrella to 10 €. Here is a super Bignami economy.
I a walk with the nose: there you see the altar of the Fatherland, and to my right there are the Baths of Diocletian, which has been converted into a church designed by Michelangelo. The most surprising thing about these Romans are passing in front of all these good things and there not even throw a glance . At best, we throw an empty plastic bottle. And suddenly I understand
Otto III. The inexplicable feeling that even if you are the Emperor of the Galaxy, even if you're from New York and you are a Warrior of the Night in Rome you'll always feel a provincial. Why " eh, but in Rome ... " means, " here in this city, have happened so many things of global importance, that I miss the know, and I do not give a shit to know them, but happened here, and tell us a safe and discover that happened here, or even if it has not happened here, then if happened here would have been better. Because these streets we walked a lot of people in history, and we came up with so many things that I do not know, but there are the invented us. And even if it happened a thousand years ago, I still somehow got to do, and yet you do not. So I do not break my balls with Napoli, because here we are in Rome, and if you do not come from Rome, you're not a fucking .

And I silent under .

Then I take the train, and after a few miles, when in Rome do not just have a line on the horizon, I recover Dalo stunning and me angry. And I think back to Otto III.

Good Standing Per Dentisti

Isylea the comic 7

here we are back on the terrible land of Isylea .... terrible, at least, for the noobs!


And here we are with the Brain, by which we reach the 5 winners and we can finally proceed with the awards:
Gnarrk where that has led our poor noob?
Answer for you!

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plague our families! Latest Olympus


If there's one thing we fear, to us poor little creatures dust and mud (and a 60% water which do plin plin ), is what happens without any explanation. So much so that the world is full of wisdom-of-the exegetes then, that puzzled tirelessly to find a cause to all the crap that happen to us in life.
E ' maniacs that we are compulsive obsession with control , there is little to be done. So much so that if, for example, were to explode a nuclear war, we are confident that the world is divided into two categories of people: those who tear their clothes in despair, and those who sneer inside their bunker fallout .
fact is that just to give a rational explanation to disasters that occur we are ready to rubbish our intelligence (and those around us) with the most outlandish theories of the universe and the nice thing is that we will always find a multitude of our fellow ready to drink any shit but you can blame it on something . Type
when an octogenarian and one dies, one wonders, "and what is dead?"
(But fuck that means, "to what is dead?" E 'died of death, goddammit . It seems that no one has ever noticed that at a certain point, poof, you die. You confuse cause and consequence: is but one dies because he is sick, it's the opposite, because a patient is dying.)

Or come to my mind the scienziatoni of 1600, when people began to suffer from fever so, at any moment, thousands died and people were asking: why ? And since no
microscope is a big mess about bacteria that you pass the fleas from rats, the theories generally credited were:
1 - God is pissed . This was the highlight of the priests, we can frankly say that they had put a great business disasters. There is a famine? And 'God who is pissed off because they do not come to Mass . A fire? God wants you out, sodomites gomorroidi that you are not more victims. We were invaded by barbarians, who rape our women? God sent them, hey, punish your women (so they learn to let go of the apple trees). Now, whether or not God is the cause of the disaster, we can not know for sure, but if you can be sure of one thing, is that God is the cause of profanity.
2 - Saturn came in conjuncture with Jupiter. Seriously. It also said the Don Ferrante's dear Manzoni (one day we will speak well of him) that he gets the fever and died blaming the stars. Who knows with those who would take if the magician Othelma instead.
3 - Jews spread the plague because they are assholes . The Jews were something of a scapegoat for all the dicks could happen, the murder of Jesus to Hitler. Stepped on a shit? The dog was a jew. You fell down the stairs? A jew had smeared with Vaseline. When they were not Jews, who may happen that you fall ill, too, were the spreaders, or foreigners. The influence that carries off a few million people in the world at the beginning of 900, we call it the "English" to blame those fucking fighters. In Spain they called it the 'Italian', it seems that the virus we condissimo pizzas playing the mandolin.
4 - The humors of the body. Yes, our body was crossed by a lot of humor, and all diseases resulted from an imbalance between these fluids. This brilliant theory leads to practical fantastic that not even George Romero , type drill the head of those who had migraine to bring out too many moods, or pull away liters of blood from the patient to take his bad moods. It seems that the saying " are in a bad mood" was spoken by very pale guys with a hole on the front where you could see the cerebral cortex on which colonies of bacteria and viruses were celebrating the festival of idiocy Human dancing the waltz.
5 - Finally, the air, and by extension, the weather . As it was in Milan and the plague raged, he said he was guilty of moist air and fog. Probably to make up this brilliant explanation were Japanese tourists. According to this principle does not explain why the people were well in Frosinone.

Now, all this eulogy because we've recently read some theories about the cause of the global economic crisis that brings us so much trouble. Stuff like:
1 - The economy has lost sight of God ( strange parallel with the decrease of 8 per thousand donations )
2 - September 11 is entered in conjuncture with the flu swine ( with all due respect for the victims , we do not understand why they fall two skyscrapers in America and we lose the job)
3 - The Chinese and non-compete us unfair ( but the way we like Nike made in China that are cheap)
4 - There is global warming ( and no longer exist between seasons ).

Yes, we are also repetitive, but study the History hurts. It makes us realize that we are assholes, and assholes return.

Mucus Dry Before Period

: Rites of Passage


Olympus Lately you can not sleep anymore. Clouds are always comfortable, soft and warm, not like the mattresses of the mortals who do not understand how they can not spaccarcisi back on. The sunsets accompany sleep then as now, the sun like a ball frozen in an eternal spring caresses the skin with a perfectly angled rays to reproduce the warmth of a helping hand.
But you can not sleep.
The clear air is shaken by the sound of that implement admin, writing master BG, Quester that build to a frenetic pace, never seen so much activity from that distant day when I had access to divine status. Something has changed!
E 'changed that we realized, looking into his eyes after a night of binge at the bar of Dionysus (the only one not looking in his eyes was Drao, so busy as he was to keep them focused on the backside of Aphrodite, the maid) who were helping the mortals in the wrong way.
Yes, even the gods are wrong. But do not tell Dingwath.
What's the superpowers if we use them to collect the flowers? Maybe Superman uses heat vision to warm the paste of yesterday? Zeus has ever launched a fatal lightning strike to make a scar? Maradona used his left foot may be varied for the doors?
And Hephaestus, the lame god, maybe he used his hammer to break through cabinets that has lost a key?
No, that did not. They did great things.
And why not us? Are we gods Series B?
E 'and then that happened and Athulea Seavel have made good buzz, and in two days have brought out many new products to fill for one year. And we found ourselves miserable demi-hand the power to change the world of mortals. And instead of erect bridges, erecting entire lives.
From time to time we throw a glance between the teeming mass of mortals, with upturned nose and a mouth full of curses because they are slow to give him the scar.
But listen indulgently our name in Vain from their mouths. Loving them as God loves its faithful, and not as a mother who spoils his eldest son, we are working because the scar is the least of their thoughts.
You hear that thunder, killing? It is not the wrath of the gods, is the sound of their business.

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Superquark: travel between Berluscojones

Today Superquark here we present a movie that has no precedent in history! For the first time we managed to film a member of the tribe of ancient Berluscojones .
You should know that the members of this tribe live hidden in the midst of other people, and especially, if you ask which tribe you belong to respond with vague answers and inconclusive.
Anthropologists have for decades tried to find a means to identify and overcome their natural shyness. For years we believed that the best way to flush them would engage in political discussions: the answers are typical of Berluscojone " enough of the old policy," "I do not vote ", "I have to work " " are Massimo D'Alema . But it is clear to the scientific community that this method of investigation does not produce results are 100% sure: anyone, so, can impersonate a Berluscojone without being real. The world is indeed infested with thousands of pseudoBerluscojones or by individuals, to gain a personal benefit (eg money), they pretend to belong to the tribe and its beliefs. Externally, then they share customs and traditions, but do not adhere sincerely.
What we wanted was the Berluscojone true, an individual who was sincere sympathy of the religious dogma that the tribe handed.
And finally, ladies and gentlemen, the Berluscojone Zero was found . What follows is an extremely rare document, in the running to win all the prizes in the industry.



This shocking document renders a harsh reality, but at the same time is a valuable contribution to science. We see a Berluscojona in full religious ecstasy. As you can see, is holding up a fetish representative of the Palace of Justice in Milan topped with red flags: the woman is about to plunge it with long pins, which makes us suspect a derivation of the voodoo religion Berluscojona. The hair is colored raspberry indicates that the woman is a former priestess Berluscojona: in fact this is the color which are dyed her hair when they retire having reached retirement age (the tribe Berlusojona women retire at 25 years , while men become adults at 71 ). Also note the glasses, which conceal two microtelevisori tuned 24 hours 24 on Rete 4.
From what it seems possible to infer, that the Trinitarian religion and the press. The deities are worshiped by Berluscojones:
1: Jesus, probably a version of Christ Catholic Brianza;
2: Madonna, which refers to the deity the Great Mother of the antediluvian religions, the goddess of fertility and fertilization. The Priestesses Berluscojone celebrate it in Bunga Bunga, a sort of Dionysian ritual that takes place at least twice a week, dancing half-naked hanging from a pole.
3: Silviuccio , divinity from small as evidenced by the diminutive. The Berluscojona says "must remain in the chair," referring to the custom of removing the statue of Silviuccio from the chair (on which is generally represented), a gesture symbolizing the departure from the tribe of Berluscojones. The woman is deprecating those who have betrayed the tribe, called disparagingly " Finjanes . One of the precepts of religion
Berluscojona provides the sacredness of telephone conversations That equivalogono, if we allow the comparison, the confession in the Catholic religion. What was discovered accidentally by a famous anthropologist, who one day received a phone call that we present the transcript:
A (ntropologo): Ready
B (erluscojone): Who are you?.
A: Who is this?
B: Is anyone listening?
A. I. Who is this?
B: Are you listening?
A: Yes, I have called you. Who is this?
B: You're listening to my phone call? Spy! Left!

In other words, anyone who plays a call, even the party, is a blasphemer (left, or "someone who has suffered an accident"). The Beluscojoni, in fact, praying, raising up the phone and dialing numbers at random, then with speaking tone.
Of course then the anger of Berluscojona in the movie ("we can no longer call, we are all trapped"), who complains that dial a random number without someone responds other end is not as easy as once, due to the proliferation of mobile phones.
The so-called "left", therefore, true demons Berluscojona for religion, are characterized by a confused sexuality that makes them incapable of "making good love (some Berluscojone rock paintings representing the" left "in the act of putting on the penis groped woman's ear, or under the armpit).

Thanks to this extraordinary document now know much more about the culture of Berluscojoni, a tribe threatened with extinction that threatens to succumb to modernity .

Whydoes Ibuprofen Give Me Thrush

Before my eyes

*

I was shy during flute lessons, whether with a teacher and with each other. A shyness that now I have to write by choosing words and form, it seems not impossible. With the first teacher perhaps it could find some justification, I was madly in love with this young man and the trembling, the palpitations had their reasons. I was sweating, his hands trembling, the explanations he gave me is not secured properly in my head ... my thoughts were elsewhere, dreaming ... but it seemed a dream too far, I felt small and particularly nasty. I was twelve years old and his five more than me, and I was discovered: "Could it be that you're in love with Gianni ...". I heard the voice of my mother as she drove my sister and I sat in front and behind to watch the full moon, silent. Their allies, and I always quieter . - From the autobiographical CG, Stock Anghiari 2007

Leafing through the volume of Duccio Demetrio on shyness in I have already spoken, I met this autobiographical account of his collection in the Free University of Autobiography of Anghiari. It 's a girl who talks about his relationship with the music teacher. It 's just a girl, but if I think my students and three female students who meet with them to take lessons to me, I wonder what it means to the awkwardness, embarrassment, hesitation, redness of one of them that makes me doubt her. Just a few looks, longer than necessary and more intense than those of a student who has a head full of music for thinking that it might be for you a situation comparable to that girl's autobiography.

This happens sometimes in our eyes. What we see is an understatement. We certainly think that it's more that those signs are carriers of meaning for us, that concern us? I am convinced that we'll never know, at least in the case of shy person, who will do anything to hide emotions and feelings. Prevent too much to act otherwise. An early sense of loneliness, suffered initially, but then more and more recognized as inevitable and, after all, dear companion of days. The sense of courtship and the beginning. Even it happened to me - and it still happens today! - To be fascinated by things in their beginning. I'm tempted to say that I'm interested in just that. When I see a romantic movie, are stretched out completely to enjoy all the preliminaries of a love story: how much slower and the circle is approaching without even express the feelings, the more I like the story! I think those moments are eternal.

We have someone in front of us that there exists simply. He speaks and gestures, but above all expressed by the muscles of the face that proves the endless emotions. It seems to us to seize them all. We would like to keep for us, who were devoted to us all. And you fall in love for a while 'the delight of the face, which is no longer just a face. E 'already a face, our own construction, but not an invention far-fetched: we have already made to establish continuity files, imagine a sequel to the story, we want to take, we would never end. But we are already building castles in the air! We delude ourselves already that will last. The machine of desire is set in motion ...

But with a student is different. We have to hide any more innocent soul movement, not disrupt the educational relationship that binds us. Within that we will invest very little, making the music to meet the ground, putting all our innocence, because it always is: when in front of our eyes will show the beauty we are not just scared by it, the mind is pleased. We open to new evidence. What seems like, call us. But we have to stop for a bit 'to consider how much of that beauty belongs to us, how much enjoyment can be effective even if furtively. No failure is allowed. At most, the pleasure of observing, thinking not to be discovered. So we move away we also - perhaps as a student dodges - guarded secret in the heart of one day.

*

*

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Firewood

*

A shift worker does not is devoid of eyes and hands. Of this and that you will say, perhaps with a plan, what he saw. If you are a pianist. You do not want to deny him the privilege of being a performer, I say also seen!

If a song of the sixties will appear exactly as you have always enjoyed, it means that he will return with his own hands, without knowing it, movements and pauses that coincide with your expectations.

Then there is the task of transmitting to their students what they've seen your eyes, if you're a shift worker. In everyday life even before you speak, you look in his eyes. And the eyes that allow us to let us see something, sometimes something essential, in the person who is before us: in his emotions and moods. These are the words that allow then another, more complex understanding of what took place and that takes place in the history of a soul. But the words they need the eyes, the looks, their infinite expressions, whether they will be sincere and if they wish to be taken seriously by the listener. But the eyes have their own language. Eyes, and looks, voice and help to establish our identity, to give voice to our soul and our destiny. The medicine does not tell us that the studies on eye and vision have come out of peoples' eyes: this is only meeting with destiny the people with whom we meet. The eyes not only see but hear the visible and the invisible. They feel the mystery of a soul, which manifests itself in his fugitive right when the eyes of light in one eye. And 'the look that gives meaning to others. E 'from the gaze of receiving sense of my existence.

Now consider these words:

Imagine there's no heaven It's easy if you

try No hell below us Above us only sky

Imagine all the people Living for today ...


Imagine there's no countries "
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for And no religion too

Imagine All The People
Living life in peace ...

You May Say I'm a dreamer But I'm not

the only one I hope someday you'll join us And the world will be
as one and

Just try to think like 'go' in a performance of note song. It will be easy to perform? bravura instrumental? We should not be anything of yours? And what, if not the heart? What he heard and saw an artist before you will not have to see and hear you too to be able to play? And this is not what will help you to originally express what you see and hear you?

Collision read a letter from a high school student who complains about the condition of those who, being young, can not take too much hope, given the time, has no well at the beginning of the day. Not that it's better not to think about the problems of young people, but it hurts the heart to find out to what extent has reached the desperation to find work that lasts, a love that lasts a life that does not stipulate that surprises ... The student is expected to be supported by adults and teachers. He wants to look upon himself who conceived not as a vessel to be filled, but as firewood. Not only wants to sacrifice and renunciation, but also warmth and passion. I feel this task: I must teach my students not only a tool, the secrets of the art, technique. I have to burn their hearts, feel the warmth of the words of a song. Because the folds of the soul is finally doing music. Why is never reduced to writing 'about' music, but 'with' the music, while remaining musically accomplices of his mystery as the mystery of life.

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Best Outfit For A Date

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Letter Of Admission To Dental University Sample

Isylea 6

Here we are back at the history of our terrible noob ... In this episode we begin a great "story within a story", escape and adventure touching quest for freedom! Steven Spielgerg us a whisker!

Images Of Women Their Showing Armpits

The smoking gun noobs

And so the world is anxiously to be able to preview the stunning photo of a naked old surrounded by beautiful chicks . The lawyers of the old weird send threatening letters to newspapers, those written with letters cut from newspapers , distrusting this and that from the public, and even if the public as are photomontages, photo montages and even if they were not so much that is not the his penis, and even if that was his penis at least we must admit that it is beautiful long.
But the old man makes him because he knows very well that if a process can easily be called "judicial persecution", and we silent under , if the economic failure of Italy may easily be called "guilt of Communist governments, and we silent under , if the demolition of the public school can easily be called" single master ", and we silent under it is very difficult but we remain silent if called in "conspiracy of truth" a picture of him in the buff between the balls of flesh and silicone nipples.

Because he knows that there picture is worth much more than a thousand words, heck if I know. We became rich with this story.

And so the ghost of pictures Pornovecchiaccio shake the sleep of all: those who love him, who hates him, who looks at us from outside becoming fat laughter.

On the other hand, every people has its own method of getting rid of tyrants.
(Just make a comparison to be aware of the situation:

Cairo, Egypt:
- Dear, how was the civil war today?
-Eh, sucks. 200 people have died and an unknown amount was injured .
-By Allah, we are really in bad shape.
-By Allah, as blood flow, we will resume the Egyptian us freedom, or die trying.

Milan, Italy
- Dear, how was work today?
- I am taking the piss? What job?
- Oh God, we are really in bad shape.
- Oh God, we will become as poor and dumb, Italian one day we will see the Old chick naked in the middle, or die waiting.)

The fact is that we Italians are the most short-sighted accountant Filini with cataracts. The compromising photos of the old man we have already there, and we realized!
But just do a Google search.


Here while Bruno Vespa smell the smell of vagina he has left on hand after a seratina arcoriana. Notice the smug expression of the reporter.



Here we see him just before a passionate kiss with Romano Prodi, according to his motto: if you can not beat , scopateli.


Here is pleasantly inviting Arcore a Russian journalist who had made an incriminating question to Putin. "I want you!" says Uncle Silvio.


This explains to a young lady as you will have to extend his anal cavity after treatment-Arcore.


And here he is complaining about what are tight asses of Egyptian : must be a painful experience!


Here we see him take aim .

Here, pictures are already there, just know how to look.
Now, dear old, would you mind levarti the fuck?

Jolen Bleach Directions

Inside impatience

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'm still here, in the middle an impatience which must be free soon. I was in the hands of retiring Life of Duccio Demetrio, I started reading it it's me talking and I feel that I have a long, long time still, after attempting to read and understand: it will not be easy, in fact, run out of work that leads me to each new chapter in the middle of a truth forces me to stop, to reflect, to examine, to experiment. Above all, think. It 'sad to go forward. Things are bad just read. They are so real that I do something I can not continue to read today. It now means these days, in recent weeks. It 's always this way: I'm a bad player. Use a lot of time running out a book. Demetrius exalts the virtue of the delay in the life reserved, but for me it is torture. I seem to be inconclusive, the I could never finish anything: jump a stake in Fraser. I let myself be distracted by ever new insights that lead me away from reading today ...

and impatience me away from me, take me to shore up no less important to me is another book I found in Demetrius library on display alongside the work devoted to shyness. This is from The inner male. The loneliness of men . Immense work, full of lessons, all to learn. Even more painful. After the list of vices, the possible virtues. I searched on the website of the publisher. Then the sites of Demetrius. It would be really long to recount the discoveries that will save. You need just this: Demetrius has invented a University of Autobiography! It teaches us to write about himself, to tell. One of his important books is just Raccontarsi. The autobiography as self-care . Do you understand where does the impatience? I should also buy this particular book? Certainly I will, to understand what I'm doing, if you write this stems from a need to 'cure', but I do not understand what! Well, not entirely healthy? Why I write about me, in these forms sometimes little narrative? To avoid the hot core and the painful subject of my daily life, because there is hidden the reason why I never played in public in a jazz band? What do I fear? Improvising is not perhaps the same as live? So, I'm afraid of living?

I feel like a fever on him now. I must absolutely return to search inside the book from where I started. Montaigne says that shyness was the cage where she was confined her whole life. Because these words are so hard to understand for me? Is this not also be mine? Demetrio added to the title of his work a caption that reads: The feeling of shyness and the virtues . Not a defect or a disability, then. A feeling. Where they can germinate under proper to the life dodges. The timidity of character trait, must be life dodges .

You know what I discovered some days ago? One of my students are reading the book of Demetrius! I is 'following'? Or is a happy coincidence? I found a companion in misfortune? There, I said 'bad luck'. It 's so, so I think that is not so lucky. It has to do with a matter 'low', which would be better not to speak. Now I will be a little 'hard to look in his eyes the pupil. I do not like to share a weakness with a woman ... Well, I must proceed on my own. Again, the loneliness. Everything back. Shall I continue to read and drive me by the hand of Duccio Demetrio. You can tell a reading? Blessed my brother Dario! He never had these problems. For him, life is a cup to drink to the bottom every day, without hesitation. Other than delay! He did not miss a thing of life. But even in life eludes me! It is good to see what stuff I have done, basically.

Now I do not seem to be more impatient. Maybe, I'm not really unhappy with me. Maybe my life is definitely taking the fold of a 'life dodges'. Maybe not the 'disease' is. Not a new character. Perhaps more telling still be able to say what happens around me. But above all inside of me. And 'this I prefer to contemplate the landscape. From there come the notes of my music. Perhaps, I have reason to hope for me.

*

*

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Why Women Should Get Abrazilian Wax

Maybe a song

*

Shyness was the prison of my life MONTESQUIEU

"Shyness - only they know the timid, not for fun but for virtuous perseverance - can be and become a melody 'existence, even if subdued and subdued. Barely audible, muffled in his signal. Inaudible to ears that there are accustomed. Especially since, as he wrote Maria Zambrano, where "The heavens are many" and "Heaven is an abstraction in the singular," all things, the feelings even more, it should be seen in its multiplicity. There are the shyness that have something to share with each other, without a doubt the relationship with loneliness. Shunned by those whose life was marred by phobias, fears, sought by those who knew how to teach. "

Duccio Demetrio So far, the author of a book that I found interesting in a library in the center of Toledo: Life shy. The feeling and the virtues of shyness. The quotation from Montesquieu was stolen from there. The introductory paragraph is made in the words of Demetrius. This opens a chapter titled Slavery or maybe a song? - I wanted to call this post Maybe a song to give an answer: I'm at a stage in my life when I speak, I can express the contents of my own experience. I do as a session musician, as a lover and as a teacher. But I am also the son, brother ... I give things to my value, because in the long moments of pause - like that elapsed between December 13 and February 3 - I lock myself in my solitude. But perhaps it would be more correct to say: I open up my loneliness, because those are the magical moments when the heart sings. I talk to Martina of the things that I could not say in face-to-face. I talk with my music students. I talk to myself.

I also deal with my fears. Observations. The study. For analysis. Again with the memory of the small steps that led me scared to stop, even for one small thing. This year I was not taught by anyone. The timid are well aware. They just wonder why and how they come about. For every failure, every block must continue to think. We do this as soon as he returned home, or after an accident with someone who has stopped the course of events, paralyzing his tongue and heart.

The emotional turmoil of the heart is engorged, redness, immediate guilt. When I attended elementary school, I remember vividly all the same episodes and painful for me. If someone had stolen a snack with a friend and the teacher looked at us with sullen eyes trying to unmask the culprit, I blushed. Although I was not myself. The timid are guilty. Always. Perhaps Kafka was shy. They told me that all his work is crossed by the feeling of guilt. Would be guilty even writing anyway, even if it is convinced it did not commit anything. Without the proper proportions - do not mean to compare me to him! - You could say the same thing. So how many times does it accept responsibility for things that were created by him?

With Martina is a bit 'different. You know me. I tease. And I do not always like this. When he took advantage, going to end badly. The plant there and I'm leaving. I lock myself in the room and immerse myself in the sound of my piano. Continuing the discussion with her. Here, the loneliness is this for me. These are the times when I have to reconcile myself with someone. I do so in ways that I know. The dialogue continues with a page of Miles Davis. So I said, I open up my loneliness. If Martin has closed my heart, in solitude I open it and I learn how to do it alone what will surely learn it yourself, that is to close and open.

I am well hidden for a while 'inaccessible in that room with the door wide open, waiting. If anyone is to say new words, I will provide, perhaps with a song by Cole Porter, for love is not always as a sonata by Bach. More often it is like a song. And you must sing. Deceiving the time we spend to kick against the Destiny, because it rises at least quietly welcome a new song every life and every tax break from the vagaries of the heart.

*

Design Your Own Virtual Bmx Bike

The echo of a fragment

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After the pause of the soul, after reflection and delay, it should say who and what is intervened to stop the course of things. As if the heart does not beat anymore! We rely on the pretext of the silence, the traffic jam of feelings and emotions, an interdict, that is a notice not to proceed, even to desist, the fold of the things that certainly sounds like Fate and irrevocable passage of time.

On 13 December we had stopped perplexed in front of an interrupted dialogue. The time that separates us from that December day was used to heat the blood, to break the stalemate we've been closed.

Imagine that a girl mad honey is equal in front of you on a cold winter evening and tell you that nonsense about what you could do together if you had not sent an appointment with her several times. And imagine that still appeals to even the condition of your person engaged emotionally, challenging each other on the ground that you thought safer. Consider the sweet thoughts and voltage to a load port unlikely because of uncertainties and risks. Think also of having to do with a tattered unrepentant that passes from one story to another without showing it, but maybe also tells you the last three or four stories happily consumed. But keep in mind that it was not a madcap but a woman of austere beauty of women of other times, which contrasted with the loud chatter and gesticulate child. As if that was the contrast of light offer of a deliberately light-hearted and sincere, but in reality mask a hidden pain and an unspeakable pain.

Our thoughts turn immediately to the task that a male feels like a moral imperative but also as a dessert that is distilled in the heart: "comfort the afflicted" was not a duty to the past? Why, though, I comes to mind as an expression and prohibits tired? Again, I find myself to donate blood to the grant? proceed to forget about me, making me suck in the vortex of this beauty decomposed because asymmetrical, unequal, since the exterior of this woman certainly does not match the reality of his soul?

Imagine the insinuating twinkle and careless talk of trivial things, as if to create the curiosity that is required to establish continuity and file ... In short, the ingredients were all there for a Murder Dec. 13, but I would not disappoint hours leaving you believe that I have lived up to expectations of the woman-looking girl of trouble. If a handsome twenty-four virginal looking, in fact, I threw out: "You ask me what am I doing here! What are you doing ... I'll tell you: looking for trouble", you tell me if it should sound alarm bells sleepy conscience, already seduced and almost annihilated - they tell me I've always been fascinated by women (as if it were something original and exclusive!) - not at all implied by the bid itself by a seductive and desirable woman, who hides his heart of a girl behind the thick blanket of bravado and talk seemingly disinterested, as if we had not just with you! as if the trouble does not seek them with you! Be cool to say that the heart can not control! You a step away from, yes, maybe just whispered. But then, so what? No request had been made explicit. Rather, I would say, a bait was launched. And it was necessary to be a fisher of souls (in pain), perhaps eager to random attacks and occasional basis, because it is never clear whether the circumstances of life there interpellino for a concert of Bach or a song by Cole Porter! You tell me: Music is always, always green eyes of a gypsy we will get to forget God, but considered a bit 'my four commitments, things well earned over the years, Martina, tutorials, Tolentino, l' invincible modesty of a male of another era, and that's it.

For all the days of 'states' that took place in front of me I did nothing but smile pleased and flattered, visibly moved. I pretended not to see the woman who was behind the girl who played. I played too, until the 'melting', after the weakening of the voice and the diminishing of sexual tension. I had no more voice. Not words. Only a subtle desire for another time to live with her, but with the other that she was, fortunately well hidden, with closed doors and ironmongery and laces that made it inaccessible. Only my eyes could easily rest on her, that her soul was clearly leaning toward me, mouth wide open in the cry restrained. Maybe love was the cry that he did not say.

Along the roads of the world we all come together at times, hungry and alone, to request that the bank balm and a voice that also reaches out to us. Maybe we did that voice will embrace, and more, that only our daydreams are able to paint in the cold night. But the time it carries the scent of the night in severe gait. What remains is only the echo of a fragment. Life is really elsewhere!

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Nadine J Demilenavelba

verbose


wanted to go back to dryma, but with an unusual perspective. We wanted to catch an important player and experience. We wanted it to be an incisive, a few words. We wanted a Uryen. We misfired 2 out of 4! Ramuel is a semi-noob with his manic incurable, but we like challenges.

Why Isylea and World of Warcraft, Assassin's Creed or GTA?
Isylea is more stimulating, more fun but there's more. I've always loved role-playing, still Isylea burn across platforms and allows me to once I do not have to be the master but only the player and is something that I love. There is to be noted that Isylea hit me for one thing: it reflects exactly my ideal type of role play collaboratively. Let me explain meglio.Ho led a guild in WoW for almost 3 years bringing it up to good levels. We were about 80 active and thanks to all we could to play 50 people at night. We have spent money from website, ventrilo and mobile phone were like a family. WoW But I always went close for the philosophy underlying the game: Each class can do anything as good as the others. All the same, the death of role-playing game. So I started with Isylea, found for case while rummaging for the network in search of a MUD about 1 year ago. At the same time I left the guild of WoW friends and began to devote their free time in the MUD. Isylea than WoW is much more fun not to mention the graphics much more realistic.
say that a "realistic graphics" statement may seem surprising, although I think I understand what you mean. For safety, you better explain?
There is the same relationship that exists between book and film. What I most appreciate when you read Tolkien or Martin, to name my favorites, is the theater of mind that accompanies you while you drink those pages. Better than the Lord of the Rings book or movie? Much better than the book [ah, for fans of the genre in the spring will be the show of The Song of Ice and Fire, I can not wait to get him the fleas]. So much for role playing. Seeing is only a tenth of imagining. While the games will usually have a view of a set of actions limitatio, Isylea gives you the ability to imagine a nearly infinite set of actions. Wanting to make a comparison to that effect I would say look at the blood * * runoff from the neck of your enemy with un'esprimi is immensely more powerful at the level of significance, compared to the red pixels on the screen to simulate the flow of blood.
Notwithstanding that principle is what you said I agree, what you really believe that users of the game face "appropriate" for this benefit? I can not say how many players actually read the descriptions to the end ... and it is true that when you "look guy, you go to see what is always the first image. In other words, the text features of this game you seem to limit its spread, and as an opportunity?
The average user can not look at Isylea as a narrative, there is no doubt about this, for them Isylea a game. The difference is subtle but remarkable: the view changed radically changed and the target also changes the mood, sorry, the modus giocandi. In a narrative is told and it is narrated, in a game there other logic that victory. Even within the actual user, Isylea is a product for a few, there is a difference between those who play and the narrator. Returning to the concept of graphic / image you can tell, very banal, that this may be a limit but also a strength, depending on the viewer. For me it is a strength; away who does not have a good graphics card in the brain, selected on who * can * play and who's not. On the other hand I think that with time and proper education to become a player who plays a player that narrates.
I would rather stay on the concepts of "narrative" and "Game". Isylea is undoubtedly both, and can not be just one of them. The problem, both from the master-side player, is to find a convincing balance between the two. It 'clear that a player does not like "being told" without having the opportunity to "tell", as opposed to a master and would like to see the players more willing to be told. This is my idea, but I realize that some may look like a giant supercazzola, then, before exploring together, we try to explain well, point by point. What do you mean you, including through practical examples, with "tell" and "being told"?
We agree that it is Isylea game narrative is often but the degree of consciousness of the average player stops at the first. The balance is common sense, no man's land, of course. Conceptually regards to narrate a series of player's ability to represent themselves in the minds of others. It 's a different modus giocandi but concerns the creation of texts [and willing to go beyond the contexts and subtexts]. Example: Chuk Khenam of the potter is a craftsman with smooth powerful and arrogant with the weak, it is prosaic, a blasphemer brisk when the clerics do not hear of Bill Kaulitz, and perjury and treacherous. Harry, the player who plays Chuck the potter creates a narrative not only convincing but even so marked as to render that unmistakable PG. The narrative has become a test of consistency: when the power to create the text is not but the player is a master or another player, take the narration is the best proof that a player role-playing can give, helping to enrich the text in a consistent manner. Example: If the potter Chuck is kidnapped by a tribe of mutants Gasparri will not hesitate to reveal the threat of torture where is the key that opens the temple of King Solomon or the secret of the legendary Pandora's box because this is the nature of Chuk the potter. Probably not much appreciate the idea and can help me to express it better, in any case I can think that the difference between a good player and a great role player role is that he knows how to lose having fun and enjoying it. A masochist. It is to be
say that there is a difference between the role play and paper role-playing type Isylea. In the first case there is hardly different groups of players at odds with one another, then a Master's degree is easier to accept a defeat, because in fact, when the player loses, who wins is not the master.
I agree.
definitely a clear difference between role-playing "classic" and Isylea game: in addition to those already mentioned we want to see if we can find someone else?
Yes! Consider the dynamic master-player role-playing classic, is certainly a dynamic collaborative agreement?
Yes, at least in most cases!
find that even on Isylea is? Let me explain, before you said that the growing narrative is usually unpleasant for players Isylea.
I think it should be so, but with several distinctions. First, the master paper is to serve the players, who obviously need him for every detail, while Isylea is and remains a way designed to be more independent as possible. So happens that pg ask an animation, the Quester deny it, and often the player clicks the idea that "the master does not want to animate this, this and that reason", when in fact maybe the master has prepared everything in so the player can be autonomous. Second, Sometimes the Master has to play the "uncomfortable" role of the arbitrator, and less of the "narrator", as happens in RPGs paper.
Let me guess: I'm not sure because I'm not a child of animated white hen and more referees are in the service of Moggi. A classic right? In any case, there is also saying that sometimes being independent does not depend very much on the player. On this I can testify directly, sometimes in the knowledge game are lost because there is no continuity. I have experienced both when I was in that of the craftsman with the clan is Khenam Uryen Fortunately, there was a good dialogue in both cases. Moreover, the autonomy of the players is different from the classic role player Isylea to: know the rules and if you have something in mind may consult a manual. Isylea is often used on older players or the Master. I believe that in both cases is the master classical and isyleano should have enormous capacity to listen.
When knowledge is effectively lost, we have every interest in returning it to the game (although, let's not forget, for the productions is the study or not). The problem arises when we receive requests for animations such as "Tom knows how to make the PlayStation 3, but I did not sign because I hate it. Animatemi the mob of the console!" In that case, if I come alive, Tom would come to say, but how, I am made to find out the deck alone, and he just make request to the mob? If you do not bring it to life, who made the request thinks, "I knew it, Tom is Paraculo and the staff does not want to spread that knowledge."
Before I answer you get a confession?
Go son. The study
production sucks, especially when you're alone. In any case this is not discussed, is sacrosanct that an animated mob does not go for these things. Take for example the Uryen: the old group has stopped almost completely and some aspects were lost between us and them because there was no continuity. The there to take the knowledge they have given the master then the rest of the game we made with the help of cousins the other tribes, there is obviously much more to do. Currently we do not have people over a veteran of weight but slowly we are growing, I'm happy how things go here.
Uryen Going on, you want to explain why, in your opinion, this tribe (which for me is one of the most fascinating) has so far never received the success it deserves?
There is no single answer, I fear. I think there is a problem quite obvious especially for the role of playability that is the lifeblood of dryma that the warrior. The unarmed combat is a little confusing to be honest and the learning curve is slow. Undoubtedly the first thing at the beginning you think that is not a game for warriors disarmed. With patience and perseverance will do the trick, but players have patients is difficult. Often players contact me on msn to find out what life in the tribe of the sons of the wind, they want to see if he would like to change. The truth is that it takes patience, especially if you want to make the shaman or warrior. I've seen many go away or quit, or maybe try Baheli in humans, strong and a number of BG objectively very attractive, all the tribes have their attractiveness for better or worse, I'll say that up to a half a day before he wanted Yerba do the witch.
But look I would not be wrong because they do not understand is that a lot, But I think I can say with reasonable confidence that the learning curve does not vary that much from tribe to tribe.
We enter the technical, I do not know how far I can push but I can assure you that the way you think the moves Uryen is objectively difficult and does not make it very playable at the present. One difficulty is that in any case I'm also pretty good, I do not like to see me the clan invaded by small Fist of the North. It 's also true that over time have left players with their history and the clan is empty. I believe there are many variables in the field.
What is the type of player to the game Uryen suitable for you?
Besides being masochistic must be proactive and experienced enough practical mechanics. Lately I have two boys who were completely sealed fasting Isylea and now they are taking and promising. Finally, I will never say: patients.
And what kind of game gives the game Uryen?
potentially big things, but now the clan needs to grow most of his characters to create a game much more exciting and dynamic. Wealth dell'Uryen is the pursuit of knowledge which gives depth to the role. The idea that I made at the time and I think that after all reflects the soul of the clan is that of a person running Isylea trying to learn all the knowledge existing on the other side for the BG clan plays a role * * within the political race. In short there is something for everyone.
the portrait seems dell'esicasta. How do you think you can play the "scholar dryma" race for the most perceived as a bunch of warriors snudadenti?
First of all I tell you that Dryma are essentially perceived evil. Let me explain: Even listening to players with a track record it seems that this race is a synonym for Baheli. The Baheli are an aspect of race, along with Thrang are historically the most numerous. These two clans are the arms of the people Dryma BEYOND but there are two other clans like the more spiritual and Yerba Uryen. It comes out of a race seen as heterogeneous, but played and perceived as homogeneous.
Why do you think this aspect of dryma, beyond the perception that he has never managed to emerge in the game?
What then, in my opinion, this is the problem of race dryma in general: it is played mainly as a violent people (bhael) and animal (Thrang), offers little chance of change from a mold of activity. Perhaps theirs is a kind of game that attracts. Play a spiritual character, perhaps very structured but very limited because of constraints on the full BG in the long run not having fun, I think it's exactly the problem suffered by the other side of the cult and Veitien Vilmis. It is often perceived as a specific role or a little monotonous. It follows that these roles are marginal within the logic of race. The paradox is that Thrang Baheli and impatiently waiting for the other two bloom in order to "complete". However
Uryen known that lately the clan is well fleshed out, it's the right time?
Yes we hope to have some continuity. We all eight active even if all relatively new. We look forward to a craftsman and maybe another son of the wind, but for now it's just fine. We hope to continue like this but you know better than me, clans inflate and deflate very easily even if now we are all pretty well together both on and off.
I believe that 90%, even 99% do it, success depends on the skill of a clan / charisma of a chieftain. In your opinion, what are the characteristics that a chieftain must have to determine the success of a clan?
Leadership is a complex phenomenon to describe. Charisma is certainly important, but I, as a good communicator, the ability to put down a lot about cooperation, involvement, communication and informal dynamics. Over time I refined a little look on the management of groups and I can say that if you are not a good team off, often can not be on, so a guild that works is based on a cooperative relationship based on trust bonds as solid as possible. In this, the chieftain, and more immediately, those who are veterans can establish dynamic listening / help / cooperation both on and off to strengthen the spirit of the group.
A few examples of these "dynamics" of which you speak, so that maybe someone can take inspiration!
First, it is advisable to be on the forum to share ideas of race to play, ideas for new applications, or trying to give a systematic game of the clan is a good thing. In addition to forums we have a race almost permanent MSN group where not only do you feel about the dynamics inherent in the game but we also go a bit beyond that, joking or condividento moments away from the game. It is a dynamic that brings out the mood and makes the vicissitudes of the clan, are relaxed. On the other hand, if people can communicate and feel part of a group linked to the group and will certainly have less incentive to leave. Obviously when you feel part of a group, you feel recognized, you're more incentive to cooperate, to create the game. Make listening a bulkhead still makes more close-knit group, and once you have a hard core have good ground on which to build a clan. In any case, the fact still remains that if the player is not enough for the group are all the dynamics of informal cooperation and the whole of this world. They know all the chieftains in a more or less explicit. In the words of wisdom Uryen: 'And I want' to put rum, who was born Strunz 'nun bit' addiventà babbà [For non-bilingual translation footprint would be: those who are born round do not die framework].
Since you're a communicator, and the fact that lately I'm trying to explore the theme of "rules of language as a client, I would like to use your expertise to ask what you think. More specifically: I think, like all things, it takes a while to learn how to best register used for the purpose by the client (and I'm not just referring to the various vintage items such as "sir"). For example, we want to talk about the express? What is the right way to use them? What is their real purpose? When did you can avoid use them?
Yes, indeed there are many ways to ruin the atmosphere like a Dryma that of you or worse yet you still see PG or run naked for Khenam. The express, ie scrittine yellow, yes, bell'argomento. I do not think there is a rule between them when and when not, but certainly I can say is that the quality of a player is denoted by what is essentially able to make the idea with esplimi and the descriptor: _. We
a kind of game I want you to make me believe that an express exploited to raise their game, and I explain why and then I want to express an example of "wrong", and explain why the same!
: Raise PippoBaudo looking for the eyes to look and has the contrite face into a grimace angrily raises his eyes toward supporting PippoBaudo watch it for long moments without end, and his face exudes an air of defiance The first is surely correct, the possibility of the showman consideration, or not to pay attention, that leaves a good margin of freedom. The second leaves no way to PippoBaudo. The'm having an action that is looking at me. I tried two examples which apparently can go very well but at a closer look conceal a subtle difference. I think the first good rule is not to force others to be secondary characters in what is my story. But both play a descriptive and make roughly the idea of \u200b\u200bwhat is happening or could happen. I do not think it is right to regard the second wrong for * all * but I think there is a respect for another's narration in the first case in which there is no second. PippoBaudo certainly will support my vision and gnashing of teeth and then devastated with his scalatta. But that's another story.
Ah, the famous express constrictive! For example: a knife to your throat. We take this case to investigate. Let's pretend we distinguish between two "levels" of narrative: the mechanical (forged sword) and that of express (: make a snowman). The two levels often end up confused, and sometimes come into competition. For example, in a meeting between two hostile pg where the mechanical outcome of the meeting is granted, and pg "losing" claims, legitimately or not, have a chance of winning by using the second level, that of the express. Do you think this claim is legitimate?
The question is very complex, first of all I can say that my approach to the definition of the game is certainly much less tied to the grid default mechanism that assume the fight. To give you an example I prefer the combat system of Cyberpunk [called for just Saturday Night Fever for its unpredictability] compared to d & d in which the harness very welcome challenge to the outcome the clash. For Isylea everything is much more complex, of course. From these statements indicate that they are led to give voice to those who lose a clash 100 times in 100 if you have a topic / knife by the handle. Everything is to understand how we arrived at a knife to my throat. If you played? I found sleeping? It took me behind? The ending is anything but obvious, I think I'll go out with a fight but not with a mechanical coupling, are for the most expresses express and respond to mechanical mechanics. What do you think?
I think to really do such a thing must be really talented, and above all we must accept the possibility of losing.
The possibility of losing, right. It 's so strange to lose? Not that I would go for that first game to lose, but I think it's better to play, lose and remain imprinted in the minds of other players respect and good game to be remembered for a very bad bet. There is also to say that I speak not only for understanding of the game but also because I do not have anything to protect shrinkage, no equipment came out for a thousand hours of on skilling of blacksmith and convalescence [...] better not talk about it. If you forget that many players do not have this concept would be hypocritical, even if they are features that characterize the other races and should be played, this will not waiver from their defeat.
The fact is that the PCs, and also rightly feel entitled to win if, for mechanics, they can win. How Morkai said, few are willing to lose to express what would win mechanically. 'S why I was talking to two levels of narration: the first is the mechanical one why do not unions, to express what comes next because it is not considered "super partes". In fact, I happened to see pg who were very willing to be influenced by the express when it was played in the presence of the master, just because the master is (more or less) are perceived as impartial arbitrators, who will not try to force the situation to their benefit but rather for the benefit of the quest. In short, the discourse is more or less the same: those who consider Isylea a race where you win or lose will not really use all the possibilities that the game really offers.
seems a very appropriate speech. I believe that in each case depends very much on the stakes. For example, if there is only one death to win mechanic is one thing, if there is something bigger jumps often express fairplay. After those who have invested time and desire in a play went back home with nothing done decreed by express? I do not think there is a right way, but if the bet has been prepared and have to rely on the first level, with all the trappings of the case. Certainly no one
would like, and indeed there are express and express. "Did a knife to the throat" is not the best, and you can expect an enthusiastic response. Now I wonder: in some games there are only two outcomes? That is, I win and I'll kill you first, you win and run second. There is no higher possible outcomes?
I can win and let live. In any event, even if we could find middle ground alternative would always be a part that had not, by choice, perhaps, but in any case, though it is meant in an adversarial relationship, there is always a game where someone loses. The degree of victory / loss is very free, of course. Then in any case, the reasoning in the abstract limits us to a logic of short term.
Ok, since I think the interview is coming along, how about if we go to the final questions?
Concorde, I think, to read a ton, I believe that the law in three.
So let's start with the classic staffico opinion on the work in all respects: outspoken.
Just yesterday I read a post in coordination Seavel Dryma. I think that many things the player if the images if they are skilled enough, but I think that most of the ignorant. For the layman Dryma, the post goes over the reasons for the widespread discontent of all races addressing managerial issues, mechanics and staff linked to real life. I believe that those who read he's helped a lot. I think the staff has invested much of his energy to multiply the communication from the bottom up, but smoky and dark are the ways of common descent, and this with regard to internal communication. For external communication are quite disappointed that it is not done or that attention is kept at very low levels. I understand that the rest have 50 new players the day after tomorrow and 75 is considered, on a conscious level or not I can not say, as a kind of catastrophe to the upper floors. This was off. With regard to on, my experience is very limited. For the two Quester dryma I can only say that I am always amused when there was another, but I can not tell you more here. In any case I have to confess that I have a master of games paper innate sympathy towards those who moderates the game, and also by a mindset in which the master does not play to lose the player but to keep them entertained, the master is not a ' interference, even when it may seem, it is impartial. Then if I am injured at issue, this is beyond doubt.
Let the game of the races. We talked about plenty of dryma then pass to humans!
Humans, yes. The game of the races is always very complex, then surely the human reality is even more. First of all I have to say that the game is not mediocre human as they try to make believe. Excellent role players are also there, as everywhere else for that matter. Unfortunately, the breed is large and therefore easier to have players not great. As there are three cities and dozens of clans, of which only a few or very few in normal operations, to raise the human game, in my humble opinion, only serve more people. But many many players.
Then we spend the dwarves!
that I have not had two interactions with this breed, in both cases seemed more than I am worthy. I do not know their problems, I do not know what else to say!
Elves!
Same as above.
You see that you are noob! Orcs? Even
interaction.
Argh. Goblin?
good, with the goblins I feel a little better prepared. Playing with them I always had the idea that it is a race that is not only ordinary, but manages to create very game. In other words appeared to me as a race that has done testing and can fly high. Their size is clearly qualitative, it can not make a speech in number for these pelliverde. Probably their game one thousand hidden problems that do not know but I can not but admire the maturity with which the players who play the goblin face racial differentiation.
Imagine that you are interviewing me, shoot the question would you ask a staff member!
Well I will try to ask you something fairly generic, maybe you can answer; Isylea do what he wants to be?
It 's a good question, and I'm sure the person best suited to answer! What I can tell you is that we never stop up here, and if the side implementative think really miss you very little to reach the age of reason, from the side building there say limits. What we would like (and we are trying every day to do) the BG is increasingly deepen and broaden the horizons of the game. My personal dream is that the map has not one day more than those natural boundaries of a round world. We're working on, but it takes a lot of time! Move to the last question: What is
was the most exciting ruolisticamente talking about your (brief) career Isyleiana.
certainly spent my Dryma there are many exciting games. I love the exploration of dungeons and here we do not complain at all but I would not go too far and pointed out some details that would be better not say. The most exciting was undoubtedly the last meeting Uryen, with eight of us in the same box. It 'was very nice, I took it as a victory for the whole group.

Luckily I brought with me a sedative, and I managed to inoculate a microsecond before they start talking. But it was a challenge that we had to overcome in order to prepare for the next: In fact, we're going to interview a Karden to finally discover what it feels like to die every time you turn on the client!