apa nu, ornamente cat mai multe

Avand in vedere:

1. faptul ca am depus o contestatie la Asociatie, in urma cu cca 2 luni, ramasa fara raspuns
2. intentiile declarate (ne-aprobate in AG statutar) de a se construi in interiorul cordonului sanitar al “gospodariei de apa”
3. investitiile insistente in ornamente, beculete, cu montari si demontari aferente–absolut necesare?? In detrimentul igienei (apa potabila, curatenie, etc)
4. igiena este fundamentul, baza unei comunitatii civilizate.

am solicitat forului competent informatii suplimentare legate de situatia apei-

raspunsul oficial se afla in continuare:

Către, Dl. Realini Ionescu

Str. Nades nr. 44D, sect. 1, Bucureşti

Spre ştiinţă: S.G.A. Ilfov-Bucureşti

Ca urmare a adresei dumneavoastră trimisă prin fax şi înregistrată la Administraţia Naţională “Apele Române” sub nr. 12564/4.12.2009, prin care solicitaţi informaţii legate de calitatea apei folosită pentru alimentarea cu apă a zonei rezidenţiale (cca. 500 locuitori) dintr-un puţ propriu vă comunicăm următoarele:

- în conformitate cu prevederile Legii apelor nr. 107/1996 cu modificările si completările ulterioare înainte de execuţia unui foraj pentru alimentarea cu apă brută era necesar să solicitaţi şi să obţineţi în baza unei documentaţii tehnice Avizul de gospodărire a apelor, aviz ce se emite de către autoritatea bazinală competentă, conform Procedurii şi competenţelor de emitere aprobată prin Ordinul nr. 662/2006 al ministrului mediului şi gospodăririi apelor publicat în Monitorul Oficial al României nr. 661/01.08.2006, pentru cazul în speţă Sistemul de Gospodărire a Apelor Ilfov-Bucureşti, cu sediul în Bucureşti, Splaiul Independenţei nr. 294, sect. 6, tel. 021 318 2229 sau 021 318 1119, fax 021 318 2220;

- documentaţia tehnică de fundamentare ce stă la baza emiterii actului de reglementare trebuie elaborată de o unitate certificată Ministerul Mediului, şi trebuie să respecte Normativul de conţinut aprobat prin Ordinul nr. 661/2006 al ministrului mediului şi gospodăririi apelor publicat in Monitorul Oficial al României nr. 658/31.07.2006. Pentru alimentările cu apă este necesar să se prezinte ca anexă şi Studiul hidrogelogic expertizat de I.N.H.G.A. Bucureşti, care furnizează date cu privire la capacitatea sursei şi calitatea apei.

- de asemenea, conform aceleiaşi legi, după realizarea investiţiei şi punerea în funcţiune a forajului era necesară obţinerea unei Autorizaţii de gospodărire a apelor, care să specifice condiţiile de utilizare a apei, inclusiv mărimea zonelor de protecţie sanitară necesare.

- calitatea apei potabile pe care asociaţia Dvs. o livrează consumatorilor este reglementată de către organele descentralizate ale Ministerului Sanătăţii Publice pe baza analizelor de laborator specifice.

Astfel, faţă de cele prezentate, asociaţia Dvs care exploatează forajului de alimentare cu apă a încălcat prevederile Legii apelor nr. 107/1996 (cu modificările şi completările ulterioare) şi este pe deplin răspunzătoare de utilizarea acestei surse de apă.

Pentru alte neclaritaţi, vă asigurăm de colaborarea noastră în continuare.

Cu stimă,

DIRECTOR GENERAL,

Neculai OLARU

DIRECTOR D.M.R.A.

Dr. ing. Victor POPESCU

ŞEF SERVICIU,

Dr. ing. Dragoş CAZAN

D.M.R.A./G.R.A.A.A. / 08.12.2009

Redactat: ing. Luminiţa Mlenajek

avem echipa, avem valoare de gubernare

cetateanu' a votat

preocupat de

FeMeI

sa plece neamtu'

sa inceapa dantu'

traiasca nenea mihaileanu

dreapta fosta stanga are noi succesuri

dreapta a lovit bine

ca sa traiti pe vine.

dreapta fosta stanga

viitoare socialista-regalista:

vino in fata maria ta, cioaba

sper-jur ca imaginile prezentate sunt de la adevaratu' miting de la Ploiesti

Sfantul Nicolae

Sfant cunoscut ca "Facatorul de minuni".

pentru oamenii adevarati din jur: La Multi Ani!

pentru Maria : La multi ani si numai bine!

design

fara comentarii

"mama Bose: am incercat sa o bat pe fi-mea, dar m-a impins in perete"

inainte de lovitura de care nu stim (poate am fost injurati, nu ne amintim si nu publicam avizul care arata: "copia noastra este o copie") a existat un

shocking interview:

"eram acasa cu Bose al meu, spargeam o samanta, uitandu-ne la Levantinul Margelatu',

cand..... tar la usa- cin' sa fie?

Bose se duce sa -si faca suvita cu "apa cu zahar", ca sa nu fie surprins de Fane Jeg in dezordine,

asa ca trebuie sa deschid eu:

ne grabim, Bose se enerveaza ca nu-i sta suvita si scapa un dos de palma, m-am dezechilibrat si am calcat-o pe picior pe fi-mea. isi punea trei cercei in ureche, m-am suparat si am incercat sa o bat. ea e solida si m-a impins cu doua degete 'n perete.

la usa era doar Nastase, cu o roaba de dosare, cu care l-a accidentat pe Ludovic."

lui Bose i-au dat lacrimile. Din nou.

catre cei care frecventeaza zona din spate

pe strazi e o mare (de) rahateala/

de origine-animala,

lasata probabil inadins.

Daca nu v-ati prins, este o urare de ziua nationala:

Sa fiti norocosi!!!

Diseara se vor aprinde toate beculetele

care ne vor lua ochii si gandul de la

incompetenta lor,

dar ne vor umple inimile de caldura....

sau o fi doar incalzire globala???

etica si echitatea social-ista

"Proprietarul nu poate schimba aspectul sau destinatia proprietatii comune fara a obtine mai intai acceptul din partea asociatiei de proprietari."

somatie aparuta "oficial"

intr-un mail,

care e "just for fun".

pai bine domne,

nu va e jena??!!

cu trotoare rosii, tipatoare, plantate,

modificate/fara acorduri/fara macar sa fiti

proprietari de indiviza,

dar pe care ati inghesuit 500 obiecte pe

cm patrat/luminite/bobite/ulcele

si inca niste …bete cu luminite

cum ramane???

pai cf articoului invocat,

scoateti decoratiunile care iau ochii oamenilor,

de ajung la accidente auto pe DN.

Animal Farm

some animals are more equal than others (or so they think)

vot pentru Crin Antonescu

NEWSLETTER 19 NOV
Newsletter 25

echipa lui crin

Mesajul saptamanii

Nu exista doua Românii! Exista o Românie în care oameni sunt în greva, oameni sunt în strada, unii ca sa protesteze, altii pentru ca nu mai au de munca. Românii au dreptul de a trai cât se poate de bine acum, nu când vor rapoartele prezidentiale, nu când le prognozeaza guvernul si Fondul Monetar International!

Ma gasesti pe

Scrisoare pentru cei care doresc sa ma voteze

De regulă, în ultimele zile de campanie candidaţii se adresează mai ales nehotărâţilor, încearcă să mai obţină voturi, să-i convingă pe cei care oscilează între o opţiune sau alta. Eu am ales să mă adresez direct dumneavoastră, cei convinşi deja că eu pot fi o soluţie la actuala situaţie din România. În primul rând ca să vă mulţumesc pentru încredere şi pentru energia pe care aţi reuşit să mi-o transmiteţi pe parcursul acestor săptămâni lungi şi grele. În al doilea rând, ca să vă spun un lucru foarte important. Toate analizele sociologilor serioşi arată că dacă cei care vor să voteze cu mine vin la vot, eu voi ajunge în turul doi. Ăsta este motivul pentru care de cinci săptămâni vi se transmite din ce în ce mai tare şi mai apăsat ideea că nu am nicio şansă, în special prin sondaje trucate dar şi prin comentarii care consideră un lucru de la sine înţeles că finala se va juca între domnii Băsescu şi Geoană. A fost o campanie foarte grea, pe parcursul căreia a trebuit să fac faţă la două maşinării uriaşe de propagandă. Sau, pentru că suntem deja o echipă, a trebuit să le facem faţă împreună. Aceste maşinării n-au reuşit să vă convingă să vă schimbaţi opţiunile dar pot reuşi să vă demobilizeze. Să vă facă să staţi acasă, convinşi fiind că nu am şanse. Realitatea e cu totul alta. Marea mea şansă sunteţi dumneavoastră. Sunteţi mulţi. Votul dumneavoastră mă va aduce în turul doi. Iar în turul doi sunt cel care are cele mai multe şanse să câştige în faţa lui Traian Băsescu. Mulţi vorbesc acum şi despre "votul util". Ne spun că, dacă vrem să scăpăm de Băsescu, să votăm cu Geoană care are mai multe şanse. Eu vă propun un lucru simplu: veniţi la vot toţi cei care vreţi să votaţi cu mine şi vom vedea duminică seara adevărul. Nu vă faceţi griji pentru turul doi. Până şi sondajele aranjate arată că pot căştiga detaşat în vreme ce situaţia domnului Geoană e mult mai complicată şi s-ar complica serios pe parcursul următoarelor două săptămâni, când vor apărea "dosare" pe care cei care au guvernat împreună până în septembrie le-au adunat unul despre altul. În plus, am mai spus-o, e important să scăpăm de Traian Băsescu. Pentru România bunului-simţ e la fel de important şi ce punem în loc. În aceşti ultimi ani ţara a fost condusă mai mult ca oricând prin minciună. Acest sistem rău vrea să se menţină la putere prin singura metodă pe care o ştie, tot minciuna. Am decis să vă scriu pentru că primiţi mesaje false de atâtea săptămâni. Dacă aveţi încredere în mine şi în ceea ce propun, puteţi avea încredere şi în acest ultim mesaj: vom caştiga dacă veniţi la vot!

Al dumneavoastră, Crin Antonescu

Vă aştept pe blogul meu, dar, şi mai important, vă aştept la vot, pe 22 noiembrie.

"Popor blestemat sa aleaga intre doi fosti comunisti"

sper sa nu fie asa.

au trecut 20 de ani:

un fost comunist ar putea sa se retraga,

cu sau fara lacrimi,

celalalt fuge oricum de confruntare: sa ramana la soacra acasa.

noi votam pentru schimbare,

ceilalti pe mare

sau la Moscova..

“May you live in interesting times”

It is an exciting moment, after 20 years, to remember and live the experience again. It is not just being young again: it is going to hell and back, through deserts and oasis, on the clouds and 20,000 leagues under the sea.

On the 21^st of December 1989 I spent most of the time in the Roman Square, shouting with the rest of the crowd against the Ceausescu Regime. When the protesters dispersed, I went to the University square where an unequal fight took place: the army with APVs on one side and the anti-communist demonstrators.

The coverage of Newsweek includes the following passage:

“the police formed ranked on the streets, student Realini Ionescu said last week in University Square, the site of the first pitched battle. They merely blocked our way to the palace, but they did not shoot. At first they tried only to control us, then Realini recalled the Securitate forces drove their armed vehicles straight into the crowd. “It was horrible” the student said “People were crashed under the wheels…”

Indeed I would meet the bureau chief for Eastern Europe, Newsweek’s Michael Meyer at the University Square, a few days later. In 2009 Michael Meyer would publish a book about the events of 1989.

The afternoon of 21^st of December 1989 in the University Square is still in the shadows for me. While there were shootings in the center of the city I think a defense mechanism was switched on. Much of the time spent there was under terror. I was scared to death. Perhaps some of the “revolutionaries” recall how brave they were. How loud they shouted and so on. I think most of those in the first front line died. There are many famous quotes on courage, but one says: “courageous is to be frightened but go on, to run to take the bullet is just crazy”.

I remember everything covered by shadows, through a thick fog. The weather was fine though, extraordinarily warm for late December, but to me it felt like it was cloudy. I had had nothing to drink, but it felt like being drunk. Maybe it was too much adrenaline, too much to cope with, the reasons are beyond me, but the result was a kind of trance. This state of semi –unconsciousness prevented a breakdown, after all most of people who happen to get to these places by chance, were running for their life. If fully aware, that was maybe the best thing to do. If I think how many innocent bystanders were killed in order to have Iliescu as president, then a sailor with a slang language, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

I wonder what my life would have been…

On the 22^nd of December we broke free. It seems such a long time ago, freedom is not interesting, when you have it, breathing is not something we think about and yet it is vital.

My mother and sister had gone before me to the Central Commitee square, which today is named the Revolution square. I went all over town, following APS with free people on top now, just the day before they had killers inside them.

When we arrived at the TV station, the only one back then, there was no more room to get in. I met a few friends and we went the Radio building, because we were told fighting broke out. On the way we stopped at the Old Royal Palace, where there were tanks and journalists. This is when I met Michael Meyer, from Newsweek. We talked for some time and a few words from the conversation were printed in the copy of Newsweek, with Ceausescu dead on the cover, December 1989 issue, The Fall of a Dictator. The irony would be that a few moments later I met James Wilde from Time, and started a short career as a translator and assistant for foreign press correspondents.

The association with James Wilde was an extraordinary experience. An amazing man, Mr Wilde had a white hair, waving in the wind of the “revolutions”. He was about 60 years old, with a remarkable experience in every corner, witnessing all the major conflicts of the planet. James Wilde knew from the very beginning how the “Romanian Revolution” will evolve and succumb. He foresaw the detour, the emerging of a group of “reformed” communists who would benefit by taking power. He has seen a lot of military takeovers, coup d’etats and regime changes not to see through the manifests of the new “Salvation Front”

The TIME correspondent stayed at the Intercontinental Hotel, like all the rest of the foreign media. Located at the University Square, this was the representative of the American style of architecture, the little skyscraper, in a place were different perspectives can still be admired: the Romanian style of the Ion Mincu School of Architecture, the French Classical style of the University, the “Ceausescu view” on the building of the National Theatre and the communist block of flats, all in opposition to each other.

The Intercontinental Hotel has been trough a lot, in the communist regime, during its fall and thereafter; with its Securitate omnipresent before and throughout 1989, the machine gun fire in December 1989 and the takeover fights between different companies and Romanian “entrepreneurs” in the capitalist economy.

James Wilde was not afraid, even if outside the hotel there was shell fire, tanks were near by and it looked like the hotel will crumble down any minute. He had been through enough to keep working on his article, through cannon fire. It even looked like he was enjoying it. We met a few people, including the leader of the students, Marian Munteanu. This is when I first met Viorel Gaita and we would keep on meeting 20 years on, at the Lycee Francais.

The TIME experience was short lived. I would later meet a few other correspondents, James Wilde was the Rome correspondent and he would not be sent to cover Romania again.

But the money was good, so I felt I should bring over other people:

One was Dan Minulescu, a good friend for about 15 years. With his breakthrough in the top Forbes and Capital, we entered two different worlds ands we don’t see each other any more.

Back in 1989, I was the one “giving” him a job, by calling him on the phone:

“-hey

-what’s up?

-come over here, man

-you crazy, where?

-at the intercon

-you mean to be shot?

-no, to get rich

-how’s that?!

-there are western journalists who need all kindda things: translations, cars, drivers, connections, interviews, history lessons, you name it

-…

-so, what do you say?

-all right, I’ll come”

So he came and translated and worked for Newsweek’s Michael Meyer, whom I met before, talked to, but decided to work for James Wilde, with the competition, as I liked the TIME correspondent, and the magazine, more than the alternative.

In The Metro I met another guy Mihai X, I forgot his other name. He used to be a guide with a permanent frowning back and forth, of his eyebrows. I told him he should come and work at the Intercontinental. In the first place he wouldn’t hear of it, wouldn’t want to be killed, then reluctantly he obliged.

For about three months we worked together, after which I stopped work with the foreign press, but he stayed on for years, even became a character in a Discovery history piece on the Last days of communism and for all I know, he may still be the correspondent for the London Times in Eastern Europe or elsewhere.

The work log for the foreign press included short spells with various newspapers of the world, at some times with three different journalists in the same day.

Other times an exclusive contract, with two people working for the same media outfit.

The Globe and Mail, Helsingin Sanomat, Radio Sweden, TIME and other have been an interesting experience.

The Finnish journalist created a furore, from early in the morning. He started his day with large amounts of booze and at midday he was stiff drunk. We learned two things with him: first, how difficult it is to get a drink in the North and second: how to be a journalist for dummies. We were forced to try to do the homework, for a good pay. We switched places, different journalists changing interpreters and staff.

For a long while, I worked with Mishu (Mihai), I for a journalist from Radio Sweden and Mishu for another one with the London Times. The two journalists were close friends, we guessed even lovers, we shared responsibilities and perhaps, they shared stories: the readers of the Times did not listen to Radio Sweden. At major events: large rallies, miners’ invasions, and occupation of the Government building we were all there: journalists and their staff. After the first weeks, the correspondents decided we could be trusted to cover the stories ourselves, or just got lazy, bored or cold. So Mishu and I were there at the University rallies all throughout, Victory square demonstrations and counter-rallies. It was dangerous; many of these mobs were violent, except for the peaceful “hooligans” demonstrating against the Iliescu regime. They were called “hooligans” by the then president, but what a mistake that was. His supporters were the aggressive, dark-age material and the opponents were highly educated, intelligent and peace loving men and women. Eugene Ionesco, the Romanian Ambassador in Paris declared themselves golani in solidarity with the anti-Iliescu crowd.

This was a difficult period, with a country in turmoil, coming to terms with a communist past. People have been brainwashed and believed the official story of the propaganda machine. The media was state controlled and the opposition was presented in the cruelest colors.

Corneliu Coposu was the leader of the National Peasant’s Party, an old but fearless man, who spent time in the communist prisons. An inspiring figure, in spite of the difficulty he had to speak to a crowd. Vilified by stupid political adversaries, he was the best political man Romania had after WWII. Belatedly, at his death all the political spectrum and millions of people understood what a Great man the country had lost.

Science Fiction -- The year of our Lord 2027, the Natives are getting restless

Candidates for the presidency of the county of Mal-u Mal-i, on the lake Staru-lesti, meet on local TV, for a debate on religion, security cum hospitality, water works and shacks, clean vs sujo…

Their dialogue

“-we have a security issue

-because you’re not paying enough for hospitality cum PeRe cum Safety

-$ 1,000,000 is not enough?

-they are good guys

-good for the felons, they act like they’ve been biten by their freak friend on three legs. What if they’ve got rabies?

-they take a bow in front of me

-Ou sont les neiges d’antan, when they were just sleeping, now they curse between their missing teeth at those paying them, they growl, forget about saying good day!!

-they always salute me and my good fellas, clicking their boots!

-or perhaps their slippers

-you should be grateful they don’t kick you (but we could include a clause)

-but we pay them

- the other company you want is Beating Guys Service! I tell you in private, with just 40 pairs of eyes in this room these are just Baga Gontract’n Spate!

-what if they sue?

-Me? I am the one sueing, I’m Baronu’ Guberniei Salbatice, they’re small fries.

-But in front of many people, in messages, you tarnish their image (and others’)

-I wasn’t first, I just sent a mail with their lack of education, thick neck. I can speak about managerial, professional disabilities, only to inform you…and it is Abbadon’s fault, he provoked me. It is my image that counts, not vice versa

-those people at the gates are a bad deal: they drink, sleep, don’t say hello, growl like those dangerous dogs they keep around.

-the others are just Baga Sula’n Spate, Boys Grab Service I’m telling u. and I can say anything…the others better watch out, careful with the piano on the stairs.

-Guess who’s coming for dinner then

If u can’t get what u paid for, at least have a good laugh

“Some things in life are bad
They can really make you mad
Other things just make you swear and curse.
When you're chewing on life's gristle
Don't grumble, give a whistle
And this'll help things turn out for the best...

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing.
When you're feeling in the dumps
Don't be silly chumps
Just purse your lips and whistle - that's the thing.

And...always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the light side of life...

For life is quite absurd
And death's the final word
You must always face the curtain with a bow.
Forget about your sin - give the audience a grin
Enjoy it - it's your last chance anyhow.

So always look on the bright side of death
Just before you draw your terminal breath

Life's a piece of shit
When you look at it
Life's a laugh and death's a joke, it's true.
You'll see it's all a show
Keep 'em laughing as you go
Just remember that the last laugh is on you.

And always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the right side of life...
(Come on guys, cheer up!)
Always look on the bright side of life...
Always look on the bright side of life...
(Worse things happen at sea, you know.)
Always look on the bright side of life...
(I mean - what have you got to lose?)
(You know, you come from nothing - you're going back to nothing.
What have you lost? Nothing!)
Always look on the right side of life...”

20 years on

A short while ago, Alexander, my American nephew, was born-

Long and Happy Life!!

In 1989, little did I expect a newcomer in the family, born in the land of the free, or to have the best friend, move to Argentina, of all places…

At the time of the fall of the Berlin Wall I was a student , working part time for the Travel Office, a training ground for about 50 richest hombres out of the top 500 Forbes, some of them well connected guys, even back in those days. One of them has a chapter in this book, a few others will be mentioned only in passing.

In the beginning of the winter of our discontent, 1989, I was sent in the mountains, to prepare the ground for a bunch of British teenagers, ready to take a peak at a Communist country, while skiing. In the mountains, nothing came through about the demonstrations taking place in Timisoara, we were cut off from the rest of the world. So I came back to meet my guests at the airport, unaware of the shootings, which were absent from the “news”. While we were in the airport, I on one side, and the British girls and boys on the other side, a decision came from the Great Leader to close down the borders.

Those who had already landed before the cut off were trapped in the airport, for a long, cold winter night. Radio Free Europe and other media were telling their story, while it was happening, but I would find out about this only later.

I was sent “across the border”, in no man’s land, to sooth worries and talk to the perplexed crowd. But I had no clue what was going on and therefore no answers. In fact, we were worried, even in this communist land it had been unprecedented and shocking.

A colleague of mine had a moment of vicious panic: after waiting for hours without any explanation, he stood up, took his briefcase and started for the door of the airport:

“-f**^&##@***, god damn

-what’s the matter, Okwe?

-I’m outta here!!

-why?

-I know (in a whisper) I am sure!!

-??

-Why they closed the damned thing down…

-somebody told you

-no, but it must be a bomb, so run for your life…

I couldn’t, even if I believed the revelation, because the Securitate had something else in mind. A plain clothes guy, who is a prosperous MP in the capitalist regime, twenty years later, said to me:

“-You gonna go there and make those wild kids shut up and stop their shouts!!

-They want to know what’s going on. They’re supposed to be in a hotel, asleep by now.

-None of their business. They must keep quiet!!

-There’s a guy from their Embassy, talking to them …

-Never mind!! YOU talk to them; the state gave you a mouth!

-…”

Nothing more could be said and I found something new I got from “the state”. In the meantime, the teachers who came from Heathrow with the young wild saxons told me what was going on, they had learned from their Embassy official about Timisoara. They didn’t get all the gruesome details, but they received the excellent advice to go back to London.

By this time, there was a lot of pressure on them to enter Romania and “continue” their holiday…Ceausescu sealed the border, but some travel officials wanted to get an exception for a group of “kids”. The apparatchiks thought them harmless, not affiliated with any foreign spy agencies, and decided to get them in the country, by crook or by hook.

High ranking bureaucrats from the Ministry of tourism came to the airport to convince the teachers to “cross the border” into Romania, then go back to the UK and make publicity for travel packages, even if it was clear tourism would be dead and buried at that point.

A few days later the fighting started. If it wasn’t for their Embassy official, about 40 subjects of her Majesty would have been trapped in Romania for weeks, or worse.

The paperwork after the arrival, a special last minute offer and cancellation of the Last foreign Mohicans visiting the communist regime were tiresome and required stamps and approvals. While working on it, about 200 meters from the Party Headquarters, all hell broke loose.

Ceausescu signed his death warrant, calling for a huge meeting, thinking there would be the usual propaganda slogans and nothing else.

After booing and protests, the participants broke ranks. Some of them passed under the windows of the Travel Office. In awe, I went down with Laurentis, to meet fate and spend some of the most difficult hours of my life.

We joined the protests at the Roman Square. We were surrounded by the anti riot squads. They moved back and forth and we followed their every move, breathless.

“Every move you make

Every breath you take

Every step you take, I’ll be watching you”

Only we didn’t feel like singing. I was grasping Laurentis’ hand, every time there was a sudden noise, shout or military advance. I was scared to death. Shots were being fired. But not close to us. Later on, we learned about the people killed a few blocks away. Nobody died near us. But we couldn’t be sure about the next few seconds. There was no telling what would happen. The worst was to be expected.

I went to house near by and ringed the bell. An old lady showed me in. She allowed me to call grandma; we had no phone back then, so I couldn’t call my mother at home. I asked grandma to keep in touch with mother, and sooth her if anything happens:

“-what do you mean? Asked grandma.

-well, it’s just that…

-what can happen?

-nothing, but...

-You’re not in some kindda trouble...

-No, but I gotta go...”

She knew we couldn’t keep talking on the phone for too long. When calling her from a public phone, which was the only option in our neighborhood, about seven people would queue outside the phone booth, waiting for their turn.

Back on the street, we decided to go to the other square…

And 20 years on I would become Abbadon, Shiva of Malta in the Muddy Sea.

Online we have abridged chapters, offline we have the whole Last Picture Show, Peter Bogdanovich

Notes for our readers

Characters in this book have been inspired by the fiction of Dickens, Balzac, Saul Below and other great writers found at http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2002/may/08/books.booksnews ,

http://www.friendswood.lib.tx.us/bookinfo/frpubtop150.htm and at the Book Fare coming soon. In particular I would note: Great Expectations, Wuthering heights, The Magnificent Ambersons, the Sound and the Fury, Ciocoii vechi si noi, Le rouge et le noir, La Comédie humaine, Great Gatsby, Darkness at noon, Death comes for the archbishop, Ethan Frome, A tree grows in Brooklyn, Lonesome Dove. A complete list will be available in the printed edition

Both the basic and the unabridged, edition with photos are available : order now!

There are thousands of hombres from Tasmania, Argentina, Java, Belgium, China, Saudi Arabia and many other parts of the world, met at the Olympics, or in headquarters of a multinational company, in the top ten best on the globe, who have lent features to our players in this novel. Nevertheless, the final characters are pure fiction.

The author is trying to highlight some of the shortcomings of our society, the community we live in. He is not without faults or misgivings of his own, as we are about to see. There are no pure evil characters (except, perhaps, for Ceausescu, the Dingbat and some colonels met while sailing).

Some of the events cannot be explained here, the readers may understand better, we do not pass judgement, it is a fantasy, but what an exciting, amazing world in which you are invited to take a joy ride.

This could be wrtten, because we live in a democracy and in 1989, the author of these lines took to the streets for the right to be free (Newsweek, dcember 1989 issue, artcle The fall of a dictatorship). Democracy means opposition, freedom of expression and Justice for all. A tyrant tries to shut off the press, the critics and hear only hymns. This here is a small effort to try to change the small world around us. In the “original” democracy, voters care little and understand even less the issues at stake.

The “Six Pistols” get control of the game, with Sid Vicious supervisor, flanked by Charon Stone.

Other credits go to the lyrics of the Beatles, U2, DM, Van Halen, BUG Mafia and a few others. We are indebted to the movies on the list NYT top 1,000 movies…with special mention for Good Fellas, Reservoir Dogs, Doubt, No country for Old Men, Monty Python complete works, Snatch, Lock, stock and two smoking barrels, Prizzi’s honor. More in the printed edition, where we will disclose our contributors, if they will see fit.

This canvas is meant to be a pointillist work. I am a firm believer in the theory whereby the creator placec a few dots of color and you, the reader, mix them, in your mind, and we’re both responsible for the image created.

There are strong abstract, surrealist undercurrents and as a result, characters will have one eye on the face and a few others at the back .

Heroes Cement-ery

…Also sprach Der Übermensch

Azul Macau has two gates: there is a secondary access, whereby you enter from a sea of mud, Out of Africa without the charm described by the baroness Dinesen. The mud is making its way into the pueblo and the streets of Azul will be paved with Earth: Eco-mocca-prehistorical…

We are in a capital in the European Union, which looks like the worst parts of Africa or the third world. Nearby, zafado pikeys, valiente muchachos throw tonnes of garbagge. You can also stumble upon a sheep herd, cows and wild fire caused by “recycling”, which here means burning rubber and plastic bottles:

smoke till

you choke!

The field and even the forest which are close by, have been turned into a huge dumping ground.

Life goes on,

much shorter ,

without too much fuss, don’t worry, be happy. The authorities have been called, but they find nothing, do nothing. Corruption is a key word, and there are no kickbacks, nothing to be gained in an open field full of rubbish.

It is a different story when someone tried to place a publicity sign in Azul: the police came in half an hour, before the first letters of the sign showed up. Squealing is a past-time for old people in search of harjoneala.

Change is in the air though. The leader of the land is, for a few more weeks, a sailor who drinks and drives the car, with a crooked laugh, he calls women names…he bears more than a passing resemblance to the General of Marquez, who was carrying in a wheel barow some of his manhood. Our marinheiro is showing off his manhood with every occasion. He seems to be on his way out.

The people of Azul are Der Übermensch, wonderful or violent, educated in America and in the slums of Slumdog Millionaire, they range from quite well off to having big debts & a big mouth, redneck and white collar together share a world of joy and speeding cars.

Crème de la crème and sour crème, mixed together by chance, ill fate and an attraction to the Place, not unlike the one we see in Close encounter of the Third kind, Spielberg.

Our made guys of Macau Azul are nearly nouveaux-riches. High profile citoyens can’t yet afford an alarm, so they use and abuse animals as barking non stop alarm systems, and neighbors as Collateral Damage in a barking shoot out:

The Bashketville Big Shots are in fact Big Shouts

why?

tomorow is another day, another episode

Charon Stone

Macau Azul, aka MosCow on the Staru-lesti, starring Rob-in Williams of Bashketville, as funny as the original Moscow on the Hudson comedy…

Chapter 1

When you enter the “gated” community of top stars from Azul Macau, you are met by a three legged freak. The wild animal is barking at you, running after or attacking you, depending on his mood, your company and the hospitality service, sleeping or just idling near by. There couldn’t be a more telling symbol, entrance-sign, short description of the hamlet you are about to visit. Cerberus sits near the Styx; This Fidelio-Cerberus on three sticks gives his alarm signal: you are about to cross the Styx, beware of the other Reservoir Dogs making a living in the hamlet. You think the underworld of Tarantino is charismatic? Better wait to meet the two-legged characters of Macau Azul. Mr Pink, Orange, Blue pale after one is acquainted with Quentin Omar Balthazar, Esteril Garibaldi Pato, Charon Stone

At the gate there is an idle Charon,

you are near Hades

close to Nades…

Fidelio-Cerberus III gets his name from of his fidelity. Not for a particular person, other than the sleeping stars, but for being the True “welcoming” image of his hamlet. Fidelio with Moscote should be photographed and placed on a sign: “Beware, you are about to visit the Land of No choice!”

Fidelio has a few wild companions and some supposedly tamed ones. In Fact this is the pueblo of the Reservoir Dogs. Real, fury ones and Tarantino fiction look-a-likes.

As you walk around the soon-to –be paved (with earth) roads you will hear the barking and sometimes biting dogs. There is a well established connection between owners and dogs, made even more obvious if you watch them in this pueblo de Azul: some are just apparel, because a flashy car goes with a dog or an eye popping color on the house. An evident status symbol, some will waste their life on three square meters of cement, others will bite in a terror filled afternoon. In the aftermath, the proud owner says it is the victim’s fault. Besides, he owns a piece of land, why don’t you shut up and pack your things. There are dogs with silkcoats and others which will tear your coat and hand apart. There is the oriental wild dog, which is sent by the Afghan local Karzai to clean his bowels on the thoroughfares. Or the Javanese dog, walked without a leach by “here’s-Johnny!” of the Shining fame. In China, Macau they eat dogs, in our novel it will be quite the reverse, but we anticipate.

"The writing on the wall", other Games for the aged

"The writing on the wall" ***

***an idiom, is a portent of doom or misfortune. It originates in the Biblical book of Daniel—where supernatural writing foretells the demise of the Babylonian Empire. how about the Azul Babylonian Macau?

Sex & Games for the Aged, in the pueblo of Azul Macau

The writing of graffiti on the wall-

In some civilized lands, graffiti is banned and a penalty is imposed on young rebels who cover the walls with their ineptitude. In Azul Macau, graffiti is official and is supposed to show that something is going on, even if it is ugly, disgusting, and ghetto-like. Graffiti is there to impress upon you that something is in the works, in the next 50-60 yrs. And it is a portent of doom...you could also try other Azul Macau Games:

• Pass by the wild or big dogs and try your luck,
• Stay with poo on the roads and wait for the cholera outbreak…
• Power games with phone calls and fake meetings- we’ll try to stay in power to the end.
• Mud throwing
• Paving the streets with Earth (NEW* offer) for mud slides,
• Erecting shacks, foul water games, Xmas floodlights
• Sell yr house in order to pay for a shack: our vision, yr money, zero sum game.

Visit Cão-ghiol : mud baths, mud throwing, wild dogs, poo & rustic shacks

Trespassers pay $ 50 for 200 trips through the hamlet- and they will turn the village into Cão-ghiol, with the help of wild dogs, great leaders and very active community.

• A new travel package can be advertised, through Helen’s office:
• Visit the incredible hamlet within the capital and
• you will enjoy the adventures of a wild life safari:

• Mud baths, mud throwing,
• wild dogs (with Javanese passive, non-leach walkers), poo and rustic shacks.
• Experience life on the edge with
• SURVIVOR Games-
• Taste the water and survive, or not.
• Enjoy the hospitality of PeRe Petrovski service, with his welcoming stars,
• always with the gate opened, waiting for you with a friendly sleep at the entrance…
• Admire the architecture of the rustic shacks, the graffiti on our ghetto walls
• walls written for next century works: XXII century asphalt and merry floodlight Xmas