Data not mean anything
Often we give more importance to deeds than words, but remember that these, in the same way that religion and science, no longer varying social conventions while human thought varies. Thus, the words, born in principle to enable communication between people, very often do not involve more than a hindrance to this and philosophers such as Nietzsche suggested "kill God", whether the God of religion or assuming that is the mirage of science (equal to or more dangerous than the previous one) ... we should put an end to slavery and the bonds held by the words that represent the world dificícilment nobody inside and explore new forms of communication more precise and expressive ...
As said at the time Hans Arp "Dada means nothing, and its meaning is something that could interest only imbeciles and English teachers.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
How To Play Tech Deck Live Beta
SHIT. RACISM EXPLAINED TO WHITE.
This is a wonderful book title I'm reading. Matthew Tree A book entitled "Negre de merda. The explicate racisme als blancs. " A fantastic book I do not know whether to go for me is getting a little angry and a phobia for every story that explains Matthew. What is really racism? Who is really racist? Is it racist ignorance? Are people racist all the theories that have been erroneously instilling in the general culture?
The skin color may be a general indicator in any way. Like I could be nationality, type of hair ... After all, do not use the same shampoo for hair than for another. execrable thing is when this factor, whether the type of hair or skin color, is used pejoratively. I
over racism. Step of the way racism is what pushes some unfortunate ignorant to take an anger against someone, against which they feel superior. There are many types of racism.
Racism ...
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Cancer Inside My Nose?
THE WINNING TEAM.
I've always been "sidereal" by football fever in this country.
An unchanging fervor and devotion in which each team's supporters note the defeats and victories to the bone. Heart pounding fists and bitten, bitter tears, nerves and skin-deep emotion to the fullest.
The victories are celebrated and applauded until exhaustion. A hodgepodge of people possessed by the infectious joy of the hordes, a sea that reaches such high levels that give life to the adage that "the madness begins with joy." Shouts proof throats, euphoria, joy joyful.
And the defeat, the defeat by tapping the other end, leads them to anger, an anger outburst and sadness deep through an impotent despair, a despair and bitter grief.
I have not seen many games, but infected by the general optimism, some time I have attended games leading teams. I am amazed at the vehemence with which people applaud the goals. Amateur referees who whistle before failures, denouncing the penalties and "hors-jeu" peppering the displays of shouting and rude invective and sold the incompetent professional referees and players cursed "with what they earn, they could run a little ". Men unable to climb eight steps followed, inflamed with a holy rage, brandishing a fist giving them understand that this ball would do terrible things, miracles and even wonders.
And I looked, and I look at ...
I've heard of people who stopped eating because his team had lost. I've heard of people who put a screen to watch football on the day of your wedding. I've heard of people who have burned their neighborhood infrastructure for football. I have heard of baby's boom for a victory of a team ... I've heard a thousand follies just for football.
In Dahomey, the thing is a bit of a joke, as usual. In my village, located in the center of the country, the major parties is also a matter of expectation. Everyone moves into the area chanting slogans for each team. Cars honking, people shouting and singing, humming deafening ... But to the question "What is your team?" everyone answers the same. "I am the winning team."
All this comes from the fact that after the game, the winning team offers a banquet with drinks of all kinds, food and free beer ... a party that only accepts those who are or have team t with the team logo. And problems of the rich, poor solutions. Everyone has shirts of the two teams. And in local interviews before the game, freaks, fans, fanatics and fans always answer with a big smile: "I I am the winning team. " Because nobody wants to make clear that after his penchant for not refuse entry to the banquet. Each
encourages his team before and during the game. And then put the shirt of the winning team and they all end up at the banquet celebrating the victory of the winning team. "
My uncle, a great philosopher dilettante, always said that this was the secret of happiness and enjoy all that a loss will not prevent you from participating in a feast.
And do not think I do not know how to live the passion of football. We live well here, with shouts and noise. Only the way of life the end is different. Everybody is the winner. And everyone always has fun because in football there is always a winner.
And I wonder what team I am.
Well, the winning team. I do not know to be from another computer.
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
I've always been "sidereal" by football fever in this country.
An unchanging fervor and devotion in which each team's supporters note the defeats and victories to the bone. Heart pounding fists and bitten, bitter tears, nerves and skin-deep emotion to the fullest.
The victories are celebrated and applauded until exhaustion. A hodgepodge of people possessed by the infectious joy of the hordes, a sea that reaches such high levels that give life to the adage that "the madness begins with joy." Shouts proof throats, euphoria, joy joyful.
And the defeat, the defeat by tapping the other end, leads them to anger, an anger outburst and sadness deep through an impotent despair, a despair and bitter grief.
I have not seen many games, but infected by the general optimism, some time I have attended games leading teams. I am amazed at the vehemence with which people applaud the goals. Amateur referees who whistle before failures, denouncing the penalties and "hors-jeu" peppering the displays of shouting and rude invective and sold the incompetent professional referees and players cursed "with what they earn, they could run a little ". Men unable to climb eight steps followed, inflamed with a holy rage, brandishing a fist giving them understand that this ball would do terrible things, miracles and even wonders.
And I looked, and I look at ...
I've heard of people who stopped eating because his team had lost. I've heard of people who put a screen to watch football on the day of your wedding. I've heard of people who have burned their neighborhood infrastructure for football. I have heard of baby's boom for a victory of a team ... I've heard a thousand follies just for football.
In Dahomey, the thing is a bit of a joke, as usual. In my village, located in the center of the country, the major parties is also a matter of expectation. Everyone moves into the area chanting slogans for each team. Cars honking, people shouting and singing, humming deafening ... But to the question "What is your team?" everyone answers the same. "I am the winning team."
All this comes from the fact that after the game, the winning team offers a banquet with drinks of all kinds, food and free beer ... a party that only accepts those who are or have team t with the team logo. And problems of the rich, poor solutions. Everyone has shirts of the two teams. And in local interviews before the game, freaks, fans, fanatics and fans always answer with a big smile: "I I am the winning team. " Because nobody wants to make clear that after his penchant for not refuse entry to the banquet. Each
encourages his team before and during the game. And then put the shirt of the winning team and they all end up at the banquet celebrating the victory of the winning team. "
My uncle, a great philosopher dilettante, always said that this was the secret of happiness and enjoy all that a loss will not prevent you from participating in a feast.
And do not think I do not know how to live the passion of football. We live well here, with shouts and noise. Only the way of life the end is different. Everybody is the winner. And everyone always has fun because in football there is always a winner.
And I wonder what team I am.
Well, the winning team. I do not know to be from another computer.
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
Aveda Vs Redken Shampoos
THIS TIME FOR AFRICA. STOLEN AFRICA
Nous avons passé
toute notre vie, avec des informations of divers et de diverses sortes pays. Ces informations et chacun de nous font that is attached fait par rapport aux Réalités idée des autres pays. In
Afrique, nous avons s vision de l'Europe est celle qu'on nous laisse glimpse and glimpse into the imported series, films, what we read in books, and we explain those who emigrated ... The image that comes to us is that of a Europe attrayante.Et rich and that is why many Africans see Europe as a city of light, a panorama of green mountains looming on the horizon, a Europe well-dressed people who exude the well-being.
I have always thought that here in Europe, the idea that people have of Africa is that of our everyday reality, an Africa stifling, with its motorcycles, the polluted area, markets boiling, smiles, colorful fabrics addition, vast savannas, its vigorous and hospitable people ...
But I was wrong.
One day, half-reclining chair in my European zapping chain after chain, I came across a documentary on Africa. I stood dazed before the images of starved children with flies all around, stomach bloated, sick some of Kwashiorkor, rickets and other, all crying with a dash of high pitched voice and bizarre. I stood stunned, with his brow furrowed, before the impressive amount of waste, mountains and mountains of trash, with people all around, in more normal routines. Girls crouching with hand on his chin, lost in their thoughts, without innocence. I stood petrified before the markets clay, with sad women and men burdened with packages, all dressed in rags. Whole villages of earth roads "sixteen" and children with gender as the only cover held. Any emotion, I saw men, old, loaded like mules pulling lean and hungry asses. I saw no structure, no cement house, nothing. I was sick at heart thinking it was still in Africa, people living in such conditions. All a country in an endless and horrifying poverty.
I wanted there to be humanitarian aid to all those people and thoughtful, I am disconnected images in mind if one day all of them come out of this poverty disease, if one day Africa would end with all its problems. And suddenly I'm back to reality. Off the voice with a slight accent transformed by grief and desolation, with a maudlin tone and washed with the grief and anger, saying the name of my country. My country? My country? It was not my home.
Where are the pictures of my city? And those of my village? Where paved streets and paved paths that I walked every day to go to school? Where? Where are the men pressed on their bikes, and women in their car and their clothes in a thousand colors and extravagant designs? Where is our dignity? It is not my country.
Where are the markets in turmoil? And children dressed in the latest fashions, such as black Americans from the beginning of last century? This style is for us an explosion of glamor and finesse. Where are the chubby children, with their chirping already predicted that a flood of votes related to the proper diet based on corn, Bambara groundnut, rice, soybeans, milk powder, smoked fish and egg shells? Where are our real bright? And the streets every night ambiancées that buzz because of the crowd. I agree that our villages are not like our cities, but this country that I saw on screen was not mine.
In Dahomey, in villages, at least people smile. Where have they released all those bins which were acres and acres of waste? It is not my country.
I stood mouth agape, wondering why they spent the images on TV and not the other, the real images from us. Images of people in their daily routine, going to work, or leaving the night in Cotonou, Yaoundé and Abidjan, images boxes and bars filled to overflowing as in bars of any European country . Why do they put these pictures that do not suggest a hint of social modernism, if only an infinite poverty?
me I'd never seen these places they showed in the documentary. Ever, after almost two decades in my homeland.
My country is not the country of children with rickets and kwashiorkor does even in our everyday vocabulary. We have supermarkets. We have schools. With us, there are people who dress with pants and shirts, girls with mini skirts and belts Enco, hair salons. We have buses, we have taxis, motorbike taxis, we have a public electricity and water. We have seats of government, fashion shows, film festivals and theater; We have air conditioners, we have banks ... And excuse me for stating things so basic, but because in the documentary that I have it, there was none of that. We all, not as modernized as in Europe, it is clear, but we have it. This documentary gave only a sad picture of Africa, an Africa African unrecognizable to own, an Africa not only poor, but over and crushed under the weight of virulent diseases and poverty.
And I am filled with rage.
I thought maybe they put these pictures to encourage NGO's or to educate people to do humanitarian aid, but this did not allay my rage. I thought maybe it was all really in our country, even though I had never seen, but it appeases not my rage. I thought, I thought, I meditated, I brainstormed, I considered, I reasoned, but it did not allay my rage. A dull feeling of rage that got me into the depths of my heart, as when we lie to you and you know, like when you can not do anything to meet a humiliating insult.
My country is not like they want to see. What do they need to reduce a country to this image? An entire continent downplayed that. There must be other ways to raise awareness. But for more reasons that I sought to justify this documentary, the more I infuriates me. And I remembered CAD PRODUCTIONS and their documentary on immigration, when Philip told them, they wanted to raise awareness on immigration, but not with the same coverage as always, that show black canoe, dry lips or working in areas of agricultural crops. But rather a different picture "because there are immigrants who come to Europe, who work, pay taxes and have a life like anyone else here"
Why everyone does not like those CAD PRODUCTS? A report on the different African countries with our reality each day. For anyone who wants to go to Africa do not expect to see anything that flies, so that people stop to think that Africans are "starved," we all come from a tribe Forest Botswana and we all live with loincloth and in shacks. In Africa, it is not just poverty. There are also wealth. It's sad that today Africa is directly linked to the death, disease, poverty, the decadence, war ...
In Africa, there are poor people, there are diseases, Some people have nothing and who live in need the most absolute. In Africa there are countries that are at war and others that are submitted in an endless depression. That's true. It is an irrefutable truth. But there are also other things. With us, there are tons of people who sleep in beds with mattresses. People who get up every morning with their radio alarm clock, who shower with clean water, and taking their cars, their bikes to work. In Africa there are people who have a normal life, a house with a garden and even a second home for Sunday picnics with the family. People who have pets as in any other country. People like my neighbor, my neighbor, my teachers, my friends, people in this neighborhood, people out there, this one, this one ... Normal people, clean and happy, who wash every day and eat every day. What is not normal is that full-XXI century there are still people who wonder if there are African universities, where schools, if we have TVs, if there is electricity, if we have internet ....
And I remembered that sometimes in my hometown with my friends, we see spend badly dressed white T-shirts with holes and faded. Many tourists go to Africa with clothes lay in the hope of leaving it to the natives. This is not surprising because after seeing documentaries like the one I've seen, they must think for ourselves, any folder, same old is a godsend. I can not imagine my girlfriend Nadia, combined tops of faded "yovos" with her high heels. But then we, we accept these gifts, because in all cases, as cloth, anything is valid. The European television
transmit information one way of the black continent. They explain how we'll die day after day, and as we gnawing poverty. As said Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Nigerian writer and winner of the prestigious British Orange Prize for Fiction "... Too many people died as Africa explain and too little say how Africa is living ..."
Africa than I j ' I lived is not the Africa that I saw in this documentary. The Africa that I know is not the Africa of undernourished children, nor flies, garbage and loincloth. The Africa that I have experienced is a boiling Africa, with its dense traffic, its families, its Sunday Masses, its outputs the beach, his music ...
When we stop to view a stereotypical Africa to see a real Africa? I was disgusted
by this story and I felt cheated. I know that everything has a purpose, but that it was not my country. But hey, if it is the image they want of Africa, too bad for them. I know in Africa that I have my memories and that I carry with me deep in my heart.
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
toute notre vie, avec des informations of divers et de diverses sortes pays. Ces informations et chacun de nous font that is attached fait par rapport aux Réalités idée des autres pays. In
Afrique, nous avons s vision de l'Europe est celle qu'on nous laisse glimpse and glimpse into the imported series, films, what we read in books, and we explain those who emigrated ... The image that comes to us is that of a Europe attrayante.Et rich and that is why many Africans see Europe as a city of light, a panorama of green mountains looming on the horizon, a Europe well-dressed people who exude the well-being.
I have always thought that here in Europe, the idea that people have of Africa is that of our everyday reality, an Africa stifling, with its motorcycles, the polluted area, markets boiling, smiles, colorful fabrics addition, vast savannas, its vigorous and hospitable people ...
But I was wrong.
One day, half-reclining chair in my European zapping chain after chain, I came across a documentary on Africa. I stood dazed before the images of starved children with flies all around, stomach bloated, sick some of Kwashiorkor, rickets and other, all crying with a dash of high pitched voice and bizarre. I stood stunned, with his brow furrowed, before the impressive amount of waste, mountains and mountains of trash, with people all around, in more normal routines. Girls crouching with hand on his chin, lost in their thoughts, without innocence. I stood petrified before the markets clay, with sad women and men burdened with packages, all dressed in rags. Whole villages of earth roads "sixteen" and children with gender as the only cover held. Any emotion, I saw men, old, loaded like mules pulling lean and hungry asses. I saw no structure, no cement house, nothing. I was sick at heart thinking it was still in Africa, people living in such conditions. All a country in an endless and horrifying poverty.
I wanted there to be humanitarian aid to all those people and thoughtful, I am disconnected images in mind if one day all of them come out of this poverty disease, if one day Africa would end with all its problems. And suddenly I'm back to reality. Off the voice with a slight accent transformed by grief and desolation, with a maudlin tone and washed with the grief and anger, saying the name of my country. My country? My country? It was not my home.
Where are the pictures of my city? And those of my village? Where paved streets and paved paths that I walked every day to go to school? Where? Where are the men pressed on their bikes, and women in their car and their clothes in a thousand colors and extravagant designs? Where is our dignity? It is not my country.
Where are the markets in turmoil? And children dressed in the latest fashions, such as black Americans from the beginning of last century? This style is for us an explosion of glamor and finesse. Where are the chubby children, with their chirping already predicted that a flood of votes related to the proper diet based on corn, Bambara groundnut, rice, soybeans, milk powder, smoked fish and egg shells? Where are our real bright? And the streets every night ambiancées that buzz because of the crowd. I agree that our villages are not like our cities, but this country that I saw on screen was not mine.
In Dahomey, in villages, at least people smile. Where have they released all those bins which were acres and acres of waste? It is not my country.
I stood mouth agape, wondering why they spent the images on TV and not the other, the real images from us. Images of people in their daily routine, going to work, or leaving the night in Cotonou, Yaoundé and Abidjan, images boxes and bars filled to overflowing as in bars of any European country . Why do they put these pictures that do not suggest a hint of social modernism, if only an infinite poverty?
me I'd never seen these places they showed in the documentary. Ever, after almost two decades in my homeland.
My country is not the country of children with rickets and kwashiorkor does even in our everyday vocabulary. We have supermarkets. We have schools. With us, there are people who dress with pants and shirts, girls with mini skirts and belts Enco, hair salons. We have buses, we have taxis, motorbike taxis, we have a public electricity and water. We have seats of government, fashion shows, film festivals and theater; We have air conditioners, we have banks ... And excuse me for stating things so basic, but because in the documentary that I have it, there was none of that. We all, not as modernized as in Europe, it is clear, but we have it. This documentary gave only a sad picture of Africa, an Africa African unrecognizable to own, an Africa not only poor, but over and crushed under the weight of virulent diseases and poverty.
And I am filled with rage.
I thought maybe they put these pictures to encourage NGO's or to educate people to do humanitarian aid, but this did not allay my rage. I thought maybe it was all really in our country, even though I had never seen, but it appeases not my rage. I thought, I thought, I meditated, I brainstormed, I considered, I reasoned, but it did not allay my rage. A dull feeling of rage that got me into the depths of my heart, as when we lie to you and you know, like when you can not do anything to meet a humiliating insult.
My country is not like they want to see. What do they need to reduce a country to this image? An entire continent downplayed that. There must be other ways to raise awareness. But for more reasons that I sought to justify this documentary, the more I infuriates me. And I remembered CAD PRODUCTIONS and their documentary on immigration, when Philip told them, they wanted to raise awareness on immigration, but not with the same coverage as always, that show black canoe, dry lips or working in areas of agricultural crops. But rather a different picture "because there are immigrants who come to Europe, who work, pay taxes and have a life like anyone else here"
Why everyone does not like those CAD PRODUCTS? A report on the different African countries with our reality each day. For anyone who wants to go to Africa do not expect to see anything that flies, so that people stop to think that Africans are "starved," we all come from a tribe Forest Botswana and we all live with loincloth and in shacks. In Africa, it is not just poverty. There are also wealth. It's sad that today Africa is directly linked to the death, disease, poverty, the decadence, war ...
In Africa, there are poor people, there are diseases, Some people have nothing and who live in need the most absolute. In Africa there are countries that are at war and others that are submitted in an endless depression. That's true. It is an irrefutable truth. But there are also other things. With us, there are tons of people who sleep in beds with mattresses. People who get up every morning with their radio alarm clock, who shower with clean water, and taking their cars, their bikes to work. In Africa there are people who have a normal life, a house with a garden and even a second home for Sunday picnics with the family. People who have pets as in any other country. People like my neighbor, my neighbor, my teachers, my friends, people in this neighborhood, people out there, this one, this one ... Normal people, clean and happy, who wash every day and eat every day. What is not normal is that full-XXI century there are still people who wonder if there are African universities, where schools, if we have TVs, if there is electricity, if we have internet ....
And I remembered that sometimes in my hometown with my friends, we see spend badly dressed white T-shirts with holes and faded. Many tourists go to Africa with clothes lay in the hope of leaving it to the natives. This is not surprising because after seeing documentaries like the one I've seen, they must think for ourselves, any folder, same old is a godsend. I can not imagine my girlfriend Nadia, combined tops of faded "yovos" with her high heels. But then we, we accept these gifts, because in all cases, as cloth, anything is valid. The European television
transmit information one way of the black continent. They explain how we'll die day after day, and as we gnawing poverty. As said Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Nigerian writer and winner of the prestigious British Orange Prize for Fiction "... Too many people died as Africa explain and too little say how Africa is living ..."
Africa than I j ' I lived is not the Africa that I saw in this documentary. The Africa that I know is not the Africa of undernourished children, nor flies, garbage and loincloth. The Africa that I have experienced is a boiling Africa, with its dense traffic, its families, its Sunday Masses, its outputs the beach, his music ...
When we stop to view a stereotypical Africa to see a real Africa? I was disgusted
by this story and I felt cheated. I know that everything has a purpose, but that it was not my country. But hey, if it is the image they want of Africa, too bad for them. I know in Africa that I have my memories and that I carry with me deep in my heart.
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Window Blind Activacion
Ma Belle Sauterelle
Gustav Klimt works, which have an immense sensual energy. Klimt projects the erotic feeling of women presenting it as such. In my opinion this man shows the purity and beauty of human body, perhaps, building the body of the woman for being female and aesthetics ... Klimt nude woman found in one of his most frequent sources of inspiration. [ 1 ]
Gustav Klimt works, which have an immense sensual energy. Klimt projects the erotic feeling of women presenting it as such. In my opinion this man shows the purity and beauty of human body, perhaps, building the body of the woman for being female and aesthetics ... Klimt nude woman found in one of his most frequent sources of inspiration. [ 1 ]
↑ "The element más importante para entender su fama es su reconocimiento como un maestro del erotismo" , vid. GOTTFRIED, Fleidel, "Gustav Klimt 1862-1918. El mundo en forma de mujer", Benedikt Taschen, 1994, p. 14.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Scott Kay Artiste Regal Buy
Pakistan, and Rodchenko Morenatti
At first, I thought reencetar this blog and this new year with a reflection on the work of one of my favorite artists: Aleksandr Rodchenko, as well as for his excellent work in the world of poster art and photography, the compositional innovations which contributed to the world artistic vanguards.
However, we can find in any library or Internet pègina very extensive and comprehensive monographs of great art was as Rodchenko and I preferred to dedicate this page to a contemporary author, much less is known as the photojournalist Emilio Morenatti.
The reason I chose this author is the impact caused me his book, "Gender Violence in Pakistan", which I had the opportunity to see exposed last year in Barcelona and the building CaixaFórum who won first prize FotoPress'09 devoted to this genre.
This work represents a striking and esgarrifador work that reveals mistreatment Pakistani women by their husbands or relatives Dust and even their parents. It consists of fifteen portraits in which denounces aggression (these women have sat wet with sulfuric acid) that these women suffer daily. To achieve this, the author made possible the difficult task of these people came before his camera to show the world his misfortune and his pain because most of them, moreover, have sat rejected by his family and have been forced to flee his country, becoming virtually impossible their reintegration in the workplace and in society in general (some of them, though they work for a NGOs as stylists and make-up).
These images show us the outrageous horror deeper than humans can and not leave anyone indifferent to most everyone thought that sees.
However, this reality show is necessary to educate those who do not know what happens in other parts of the world, resulting in just this one example among many other atrocities from which many women are victims on both sides of the planet.
Finally, Rodchenko and said that Moratti had little to see, because while the latter binds strongly to criticism of its social photography, Rodchenko, influenced in part by the marginalization suffered their work by Stalin's Soviet regime to take over political disillusionment to Lenin and his direction that the revolution had taken that he had helped build and which had produced excellent works, reached the end of his career thinking about that perhaps art and politics should be separated, thus establishing one of the premises later that constitute the Russian constructivist movement: "to kill the last remnants of human thought when it binds to the art. " It sought to completely untie the art society, feelings or politics, so this would be something completely rational, functional, logical and anal-lytic (as in studies of Kandinsky) is mechanical and objective, and therefore progressive. "
However, Rodchenko defended the need to do everyday things from other points of view that differs from both the pretensions of Morenatti because, unfortunately, these portraits that surprised to see a museum are the daily reality of many women, mothers and girls in Pakistan.
However, we can find in any library or Internet pègina very extensive and comprehensive monographs of great art was as Rodchenko and I preferred to dedicate this page to a contemporary author, much less is known as the photojournalist Emilio Morenatti.
The reason I chose this author is the impact caused me his book, "Gender Violence in Pakistan", which I had the opportunity to see exposed last year in Barcelona and the building CaixaFórum who won first prize FotoPress'09 devoted to this genre.
This work represents a striking and esgarrifador work that reveals mistreatment Pakistani women by their husbands or relatives Dust and even their parents. It consists of fifteen portraits in which denounces aggression (these women have sat wet with sulfuric acid) that these women suffer daily. To achieve this, the author made possible the difficult task of these people came before his camera to show the world his misfortune and his pain because most of them, moreover, have sat rejected by his family and have been forced to flee his country, becoming virtually impossible their reintegration in the workplace and in society in general (some of them, though they work for a NGOs as stylists and make-up).
These images show us the outrageous horror deeper than humans can and not leave anyone indifferent to most everyone thought that sees.
However, this reality show is necessary to educate those who do not know what happens in other parts of the world, resulting in just this one example among many other atrocities from which many women are victims on both sides of the planet.
Finally, Rodchenko and said that Moratti had little to see, because while the latter binds strongly to criticism of its social photography, Rodchenko, influenced in part by the marginalization suffered their work by Stalin's Soviet regime to take over political disillusionment to Lenin and his direction that the revolution had taken that he had helped build and which had produced excellent works, reached the end of his career thinking about that perhaps art and politics should be separated, thus establishing one of the premises later that constitute the Russian constructivist movement: "to kill the last remnants of human thought when it binds to the art. " It sought to completely untie the art society, feelings or politics, so this would be something completely rational, functional, logical and anal-lytic (as in studies of Kandinsky) is mechanical and objective, and therefore progressive. "
However, Rodchenko defended the need to do everyday things from other points of view that differs from both the pretensions of Morenatti because, unfortunately, these portraits that surprised to see a museum are the daily reality of many women, mothers and girls in Pakistan.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Diwali Invitation Wordings
and SALW.
says the first article of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: "All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights, are endowed with reason and conscience should act towards one another. "
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights was drafted based on the inherent dignity of the people, considering them equal rights, freedom, justice and peace in the world. These fundamental rights are based on freedom of expression, respect and equality, regardless of sex, of race, religion, political opinion, language ... But today, many interests, many pass over human rights, driven by greed, capitalism and the extra profits. Everyone looks their revenue and no one remembers the beginning, the essence and spirit that were pursued at the December 10, 1948.
Africa is full of raw materials. Africa is full of minerals. Gold, diamonds, oil, copper, coltan, uranium, iron, lead, zinc, chromium, platinum, vanadium, cobalt, magnesium, titanium, coal ... enough said. As good African, I know he has much, does it have to say anything you have ... Africa rich soil below. But how it is understood that although this copy of African mineral wealth continues poor?
For all these minerals, explained simply, find it necessary to rich countries, to develop its economy, remain essential in key sectors. And much of Africa's mineral wealth is exploited by large multinational corporations originating most of the northern countries. Exploiting
stands to defraud, deceive, defraud, exploit, use, sell, pop ... And believe me, in all this there is nothing laudatory. They are profiting from our materials Raw and enriched every day with our petroleum, uranium ... We have our raw materials and are poor. We have mineral resources and are poor. We have gold and we are poor. This, who understands?
But what surprises me most is that multinationals we loot our property and then we have all the difficulties of the world to get a visa to enter their countries. Just as Victor Nzuzi Mbembe says: "Africans do not have papers in Europe, but our minerals themselves are welcome."
top of that they steal, they beat us. What world is this? Jupiter come and see it.
If we steal our minerals, at least to make social intercourse. Instead of pretending that things are only bad because of the disastrous African leaders to make trade and social awareness.
That re-write these rights, these immigration laws, and that if a country is at the cost of raw wealth of another country, because it exploited the country's inhabitants have free entry and a comfortable residence, access to decent work its powers and all operator services in the country.
Do not put so many barriers to entering the country exploded. Let us not ask much paperwork for residency, for visas and do not have the nerve to make racist immigration policies.
Let them show their inhabitants, visual evidence of what the miners working conditions in poor countries, drawing relentlessly, to the rich countries that openly violate conditions of Articles 3, 4 and 5 and a part of that another human rights. So when someone has a cellphone, you know that maybe it has to thank a family member of those sub-Saharan who come in boats.
That has information that people know where it comes from each of these minerals. Which country exploits which country. Whoever lives by whom and in what it takes for each mineral. So people do not look as if we came here to steal your work or services and more ... So maybe he will no longer associate immigration with crime, which is reflected in the eyes of humanity who stole from whom.
I know that more than one say that the fault of corrupt African leaders, that they too have to feed them separately. But where is the honesty, fraternity and integrity of European and American capitalists and others when they know very well they are paying for something far below its value. This in my country, it is called stealing. Capitalizing, we buy products cheaply and resell it to us at exorbitant prices.
Where are those who claim to world leaders, the governing international markets and prices? Where are Africa when it is cheating? Where are those who write the laws? Where are the protectors of the environment when Africa is being degraded because of excessive withdrawals? When will the looting of our mineral resources? When African governments make laws to protect our environment? When you run out of social conflict and poverty in Africa caused in part by the exploitation of resources?
You say that we collapsed the services and social assistance? You say you come to commit crimes?
Look at me! Your
mobile, your Ipod, your consoles and even this computer that you read this post are powered by the Coltan ore, my land. The gold you have is sought by men and boys of my land, working in hazardous conditions, rebosándose quarries in the mud terrains. Your coffee is collected by people of my land, exploited people. "And then we are the laws infringe extrajería? We do not infringe or natural laws, or laws of brotherhood, and human laws.
If not want us because they do not want our minerals.
When will all this? Because it does not make sense is that the songs sung by slaves in their melancholy night continue to have meaning in the XXI century.
"Let my people go ... A grand navire est arrival. Let my people go ... Les soldats blancs ont débarqué. Let my people go. Ils looted, they burned. Let my people go ... Lord Come down, come back to this earth. Fear of Lord, deliver my brothers ... Already three centuries have passed ... Let my people go ... When will you come to deliver us ... Let my people go ... The blacks are tired of ... Lets forgive my people go ... "*
¿Cuando dejarán in our paz? ¿Cuando our valorarán?
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
* "Let my people go ... A gran barco LLEGO ... Let my people go ... Los soldados blancos desembarcaron ... Let my people go there ... Saquearon quemaron ... Let my people go ... Fri, sir. Back to the land. Fear Lord, deliver my brothers ... is now three centuries ... Let my people go ... When you come to us free-Let my people go ... Blacks are tired of forgiving .... Let my people go ... "
says the first article of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights: "All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights, are endowed with reason and conscience should act towards one another. "
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights was drafted based on the inherent dignity of the people, considering them equal rights, freedom, justice and peace in the world. These fundamental rights are based on freedom of expression, respect and equality, regardless of sex, of race, religion, political opinion, language ... But today, many interests, many pass over human rights, driven by greed, capitalism and the extra profits. Everyone looks their revenue and no one remembers the beginning, the essence and spirit that were pursued at the December 10, 1948.
Africa is full of raw materials. Africa is full of minerals. Gold, diamonds, oil, copper, coltan, uranium, iron, lead, zinc, chromium, platinum, vanadium, cobalt, magnesium, titanium, coal ... enough said. As good African, I know he has much, does it have to say anything you have ... Africa rich soil below. But how it is understood that although this copy of African mineral wealth continues poor?
For all these minerals, explained simply, find it necessary to rich countries, to develop its economy, remain essential in key sectors. And much of Africa's mineral wealth is exploited by large multinational corporations originating most of the northern countries. Exploiting
stands to defraud, deceive, defraud, exploit, use, sell, pop ... And believe me, in all this there is nothing laudatory. They are profiting from our materials Raw and enriched every day with our petroleum, uranium ... We have our raw materials and are poor. We have mineral resources and are poor. We have gold and we are poor. This, who understands?
But what surprises me most is that multinationals we loot our property and then we have all the difficulties of the world to get a visa to enter their countries. Just as Victor Nzuzi Mbembe says: "Africans do not have papers in Europe, but our minerals themselves are welcome."
The mineral exploitation is related to several bloody conflicts still taking place in Africa. Many voices have spoken, many people still fighting to end many conflicts arising, such as Coltan and the Congo war that has stoked more to life than the genocides and wars in Rwanda and Darfur combined. And nothing. Clashes continue in Africa.
Many people, Europeans, Africans, Americans struggling with Ong's with nonprofit organizations to have fairer trade but things mostly stay the same. There have written laws, codes, statutes, rules, edicts ... but they are extracting minerals. It seems that nothing can be done against inequality between rich and poor countries. Africa remains poor ground up. And it seems impossible to stop exploiting our resources. For if they do not want to go, at least make a fair exchange. I do not even ask to get paid or as always, do see that we forgive our national debt ... Just ask them to do social exchange. If we pick up minerals, then let us live in their countries the best possible conditions.
Why so much paperwork they ask us to live? Why so many restrictions when working in your country? If they have introduced the free market and free movement capital and no barriers to entry or exit of money in a market with almost perfect balance, why is no barrier to the free immigration? Money and wealth can move, but do you humans do not? They filled the mouth of "globalization" of "democracy" but only seek their own interests. Where is globalization, when there are countries that do not want immigrants from underdeveloped countries, where rich at our expense? . And above, it seems that we are doing a favor to its immigration laws. Rob us and we have to live grateful to have been able to have a small chance in country.
top of that they steal, they beat us. What world is this? Jupiter come and see it.
That re-write these rights, these immigration laws, and that if a country is at the cost of raw wealth of another country, because it exploited the country's inhabitants have free entry and a comfortable residence, access to decent work its powers and all operator services in the country.
Do not put so many barriers to entering the country exploded. Let us not ask much paperwork for residency, for visas and do not have the nerve to make racist immigration policies.
Let them show their inhabitants, visual evidence of what the miners working conditions in poor countries, drawing relentlessly, to the rich countries that openly violate conditions of Articles 3, 4 and 5 and a part of that another human rights. So when someone has a cellphone, you know that maybe it has to thank a family member of those sub-Saharan who come in boats.
That has information that people know where it comes from each of these minerals. Which country exploits which country. Whoever lives by whom and in what it takes for each mineral. So people do not look as if we came here to steal your work or services and more ... So maybe he will no longer associate immigration with crime, which is reflected in the eyes of humanity who stole from whom.
I know that more than one say that the fault of corrupt African leaders, that they too have to feed them separately. But where is the honesty, fraternity and integrity of European and American capitalists and others when they know very well they are paying for something far below its value. This in my country, it is called stealing. Capitalizing, we buy products cheaply and resell it to us at exorbitant prices.
Where are those who claim to world leaders, the governing international markets and prices? Where are Africa when it is cheating? Where are those who write the laws? Where are the protectors of the environment when Africa is being degraded because of excessive withdrawals? When will the looting of our mineral resources? When African governments make laws to protect our environment? When you run out of social conflict and poverty in Africa caused in part by the exploitation of resources?
You say that we collapsed the services and social assistance? You say you come to commit crimes?
Look at me! Your
mobile, your Ipod, your consoles and even this computer that you read this post are powered by the Coltan ore, my land. The gold you have is sought by men and boys of my land, working in hazardous conditions, rebosándose quarries in the mud terrains. Your coffee is collected by people of my land, exploited people. "And then we are the laws infringe extrajería? We do not infringe or natural laws, or laws of brotherhood, and human laws.
If not want us because they do not want our minerals.
When will all this? Because it does not make sense is that the songs sung by slaves in their melancholy night continue to have meaning in the XXI century.
"Let my people go ... A grand navire est arrival. Let my people go ... Les soldats blancs ont débarqué. Let my people go. Ils looted, they burned. Let my people go ... Lord Come down, come back to this earth. Fear of Lord, deliver my brothers ... Already three centuries have passed ... Let my people go ... When will you come to deliver us ... Let my people go ... The blacks are tired of ... Lets forgive my people go ... "*
¿Cuando dejarán in our paz? ¿Cuando our valorarán?
http://yaivi.blogspot.com/
* "Let my people go ... A gran barco LLEGO ... Let my people go ... Los soldados blancos desembarcaron ... Let my people go there ... Saquearon quemaron ... Let my people go ... Fri, sir. Back to the land. Fear Lord, deliver my brothers ... is now three centuries ... Let my people go ... When you come to us free-Let my people go ... Blacks are tired of forgiving .... Let my people go ... "
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