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THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010 video and text

THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010
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SPECIAL GUESTS:


- THE DUO : ANTONELLA Breeze - TULLIO Vascotto
STILL LOVE THE SONG (THE SECOND XXXIIesimo Song Festival Trieste)

- THE CRAZY BOYS WITH INCREDIBLE SPOT.

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Little:
December 19, 2010 - page 23 Section: Trieste
the PRO Senectute
Club First Rovis 16:30: Performance by the choir "The uvula Canterine 'chorus of mothers and children, to wish Merry Christmas.
http://ricerca.gelocal.it/ilpiccolo/archivio/ilpiccolo/2010/12/19/NZ_23_OREE.html

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http://www.youtube.com/watch ? v = dw4Zez4Fanc

UGOL THE CHORUS THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010. PRESENTATION GIORGIA-CLEAR-VERONICA-Tull Vascotto

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dw4Zez4Fanc

IN THIS VIDEO WE CAN SEE THE INTRODUCTION OF GIORGIA CECCELIN .
ENTRY OF THE CHORUS AND 'ACCOMPANIED BY VERONICA NAILS WITH A SONG TO THE PIANO: MARCH ALECSANDER Ludvig van Beethoven.
FOLLOWING THE PRESENTATION OF LIGHT BECCARI
and the letter "TRIESTE MIA" sound with the trumpet TULLIO Vascotto.


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UGOL THE CHORUS THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010 AND STILL LOVE BREEZE ANTONELLA TULLIO Vascotto ROOM ROVISIO

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HERE ARE OUR SPECIAL GUESTS: - THE DUO: ANTONELLA Breeze - TULLIO Vascotto
STILL LOVE THE SONG (THE SECOND XXXIIesimo Song Festival Trieste)

BEAUTIFUL VIDEO SHOT BY WIFE FULVIA.16 December 2010 THEATER HONEY TRIESTE.XXXII th song festival in Trieste still love ANTONELLA Breeze and TULLIO Vascotto of Norina Dussi Weiss PRESENTS PRESENTS FULVIO FULVIO MARION MARION

With the choreography of the dance academy dancers mini trieste directed by Elizabeth Marcusa

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TegIjRcKzfo


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UGOL THE CHORUS - THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010 - VERONICA NAILS THE PIANO - MOUNT VERNON

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chorus UGOL-THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010-WATCHES-RENT-TO ANNA TEIA glockenspiel

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UGOL THE CHORUS THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010 URCA URCA TIRULERO WILL HAVE TO CLEAR THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT GUITAR

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UGOL THE CHOIR-THE CRAZY CHRISTMAS 2010 - CAM Fireplace '. mpg





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********* HERE ARE OUR SPECIAL GUESTS:

DIRECTLY FROM EVENT

"PEDOCIN MISS" AND "THIRTY YEARS BOYS

MEET THE CRAZY BOYS WITH THEIR INCREDIBLE SPOT CHRISTMAS!




HAVE INTERPRETED THE SPOT:

SANTA CLAUS: THE THIEF GIANFRANCO ANTOLLI
: ISABELLA PRINCE
the old woman MUGGING: DEMETRIUS BERTOCCHI

VIDEO:
ASSEMBLY: DEMETRIUS BERTOCCHI





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TESTS GENERAL

UGOL TESTING THE CHORUS NOEL - CRAZY CHRISTMAS.mpg



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CHORUS THE TESTS UGOL WATCHES - BY ERRORE.mpg


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chorus UGOL TESTS FOR THE WATCH CRAZY CHRISTMAS.mpg



------------------------- -------------------------------------------------- THE CHORUS ----------

UGOL TESTS WE ARE THE THREE RE.mpg



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UGOL TESTING THE CHORUS - LA MULA PARENZO SE - EL Cuckoo '- THE BELA ALA FINESTRA.mpg



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CHORUS THE TESTS UGOL NINNA NANNA.mpg



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UGOL TESTING THE CHORUS - CAM Fireplace '.
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those full moon nights in the Bay of All Saints and you can see the Lady of the Sea to arrive at the beach to let yourself wonder
The soft arms, the maternal embrace, the fish tail-plated silver, look gorgeous former beauty, the enchanting voice of immense power, ima girl's skin and corals.
You can also leave enchanted by its magnificent corner of the waves on snoring: endless laughter and foam wind.
She comes for the gifts of people, those strange children who live so far from the infinite embrace of the sea.
the stones are only loose petals of beautiful flowers and leftover dishes smelling food. On those nights stunning
moon no doubt.
magic invades the street as wind blown sand. The voice
Mermaid snoring wave creeps in the noise of cars and takes care of the air.
Only if there was the whisper of Yorubaland and greeting the shells away from revealing secrets. The border
, freedom from violent hand of trade, the beach stretches and relaxes the heart.
And there comes the siren, with all the beauty, beautiful to greet the street I wish.

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Italy: land of travelers, poets, saints and heroes - 1

Frater, disguised, che per cent milia
perigli siete l'Giunti the west, so the question
Picciola vigil
d'i nostri sensi del ch'e rimanente
vogliate deny non l'esperienza, di retro
al sol, the world without people.
Consider your origin:
you were not made to live like brutes,
but to follow virtue and knowledge.
(Inferno, canto XVI)


Some travelers know, traveling to meet up, travelers to escape from himself or from others. Some people do not get travelers to enjoy the taste of going always forward, the chase the mirage of an ideal, is forced to travel travelers and business travelers to not being able to return.
The world has always been of traveling. The stories, adventures, discoveries, joys and sorrows of travelers have written books of history, have nourished our knowledge and drew the boundaries of the world.
Among the passengers forced, our perverse human history includes men, women and children enslaved.
I tell the story of Brazil, of course, given my life .
Before embarking, these travelers had to walk three times round the tree of oblivion, to forget their land, their traditions, their culture and their dignity.
Why no memory could not send their curses on those who had sold. But memory is not cleared, let alone turning in circles.
And when the horror of slavery is over, when the intellectuals have libato to honor the dignity returned, hundreds of families have left the camps and forced labor to meet with nothing but indifference, hunger, misery.
No project for them, after they had been dragged away from their land and freed from their chains. No desire to paint a goal to quell'estenuante trip.
Left to themselves, like travelers lost in the streets no choices, only hold the memory of their culture, their land, their own humanity.
E ports and the countryside is populated by low-wage laborers, both in competition with one another to choose to return the slaves without even the excuse of the chains.
O thieves, murderers and whores. Trades old and painful as the world, marginalized and exploited by respectable society. Sicari and maintained.
So, today, in our insignificant peninsula, came the new slaves. But the sale is more subtle. It offers the dream of a life in peace and progress, bind her wrists with the chains of poverty and despair, starving countries and fomenting wars. You turn the fan
new slaves around the tree of oblivion, by imposing a single culture throughout all packed and ready for use.
And then the theater of liberation is flaunting an apparent magnanimity in restoring the dignity of women removing their veils. And then they buy the body trampling stories, traditions, past days and future dreams. We enclose
men, women and children in prison camps - in Brazil you would call Senzalas - which purposely leave out that number of potential thieves, murderers and whores (including children) must satisfy the perversions and delusions of power.
It sells off the job, no respect for rules and rights to be able to prosper those already rich and powerful.
Lights war of the poor. Among the poor Italians and poor foreigners.
And we all fall for.
Yet Italians need to know exactly how it works. People of travelers and migrants. But even they were forced to turn around the tree of forgetfulness and have forgotten their past third-class ghetto.
So Tell me now who are the slaves and those who are travelers.
So, tell me now if your contracts with temporary workers, your tricks-Marchionne, your absence you feel the people of passengers or people evicted.
So, tell me now, where is your memory.

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Italy: land of travelers, poets, saints and heroes - 2


poets in a trilogy about social policy today is strange. Today
true poets are hidden well. And mostly they do other jobs.
And who writes, or rather, the writer and earning good money with what he writes, does not write about politics, not writing about social problems, not writing about life, and to be honest, not even written in proper Italian.
Thus, those very few Italians who chose, by chance, to give him to the press rather than dazed in front of the TV, do not run the risk of being still in his hands too much material for thought.
Moreover since even the glorious Einaudi has passed into the hands of the emperor, any ambition is dead.
And so, we people of poets, no longer even speak in prose. Fat that runs if we speak in capital letters.
In memory of our past and the poet Eugenio Montale


RAINS

rains. It is a trickle without

thuds of scooters or
screams of children.


rains from a cycle that has
clouds.

rains on anything you do in these hours of

general strike.


raining on your grave
San Felice a Ema

and earth trembles

earthquake because there is no war.


not raining on the tale of distant
beautiful seasons, but the folder

tax collection
rains on cuttlebone,
and national manger.


rains in the Official Gazette
here from the balcony open,
rains on Parliament
raining on via Solferino,
rain without the wind
smuova cards.


rains in the absence of Hermione
God willing, it rains because the absence


is universal and if the earth does not tremble
Arcetri is because she has not ordered
.

rains on the new primate of the epistemic
to two feet,
Indian man, the sky,
optimized, the ugly face of theologians in suit

or swamps,

rains on the progress of the dispute, it rains on
works in regress ,
rains
the cypresses of the cemetery
sick, dripping
public opinion.

rains, yet it is not
water or air, raining as if you're not

is just the lack
and may drown.

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Italy: land of travelers, poets , saints and heroes - 3


This post was to be the next to last in a trilogy.
But after the intervention of Famiglia Cristiana (addirittura!), I would say that the square is a bit 'burnt. So I thought to add poetry to maintain the perfect number.
I leave a couple of links just to be fair on our programmatic Prime Minister, his ministers and his minions . All
to help poor prostitutes, mothers and damsels in distress

The only saint that comes to mind is the poor San Nicola di Bari which must be turning in his grave ...

well De André but, really, there is controversy - finally - enough.
Now we hope to serve something.

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Italy: land of travelers, poets, saints and heroes - Part 4


always, the hero is a symbol of generosity, courage, love for your country, or for an idea for people like themselves.
Every age of man in which form the values \u200b\u200band principles is populated with heroes, real or fantastic, amazing, always ready to help with your choices as the most courageous. "The heroes are all young and beautiful," sang Guccini.
But what happens when the heroes leave the extraordinary shadows and become silent, the walls of the house?
What happens is that children and young people avert their eyes and lose the lighthouse their social and human development and the heroes lose their perception of themselves trudging from morning to evening with more resignation and fatigue, in the darkest shadows off work, risking their lives daily for the survival of those who have labored around.
A world without heroes is easier to control: who knows that this is not the reason, beyond greed, inhumanity and amorality, in which workers are day by day transformed into heroes. In
heroes, to bring home those few hundred Euros later this month, risking their lives. And they do it fearlessly, with the thought that the lives of those they love is more important than his own. In
heroes who, when they fall, they have any country that greets them, not the flag folded with care, no tolling bell or trumpet, that no child falls asleep thinking it will be great to have the same courage, the same relentless generosity. In
heroes who disappear into their own large numbers. Indistinct, in their infinite differences in age, language, origin, culture. In heroes who, though young, they are tired. Though beautiful, they are invisible.
These are the heroes that today Italy you can afford. This de-generation of heroes home, not bothering anyone. Heroes when they die is only one more than died for a cause that concerned him only because the State has never been concerned that family, which also is its inseparable part.
But the Constitution guarantees the work, not heroism.
Italy is a Republic founded on work, not about heroism or sacrifice. And work in Italy, is guaranteed by laws and rules. It is guaranteed by the national contracts and dlg 81/2008.
It is up to each of these heroes leave the everyday heroism simply to appeal to the laws which protect the muscles and bones, eyes and breathing. Life, eventually.
It is up to each of those children, those young people, to demand the return of extraordinary heroes and celebrate the return of workers.
It is each of us to enforce the Constitution of our country, the our rights.
It is, finally, to the State to claim the protection of life of all citizens, essential to his cell.
Why are the workers who are the heroes who prepare today and tomorrow.
The heroes do not need to make ends meet. And the work does not serve as a myth.

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