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The necropolitics - XX

XX

"You're on a diet does not mean you can not see the menu
Doors
Raúl Andrés Gallego

A couple of hours after the frenzied orgy of blood, Efren resting peacefully in his retirement home, submerged under the sea smooth and mild tranquilizers for which his body was sliding.
The suitability of the Mission had Efren become clear. No doubt he had done a good job. Dyango induced suggestion, the psychologist, was total. Besides the detonator had worked perfectly: those posters of "work of the City" which became "infected with flu" was the little sandpaper scratching his head in the match (in this case that of Ephraim) and lit it, and burned until they are destroyed. Dyango, what a great professional! As he found out what the fellow stored inside, he knew how to work. It was like a puppet, manipulated with a fine threads, albeit with some risk to take. However, the true puppeteer was the "quiet" Brotons, who ran strongly supported the strong filaments Dyango, who in turn moved to more individual moron I have ever seen. Mobile formed a beautifully animated.

Mayor Efren reinforced beliefs about the influenza epidemic and its relationship with the benevolent deity. With certain drugs, his performance in the role of the Father Almighty, and his compelling verbiage, these thoughts would be recorded permanently altered Ephrem's reasoning: it would be prepared to act. But ... how to stop it? With more drugs, is clear. A good system of certain drugs "good" achieved given that the subject remained in a state of waking only long enough to fulfill the will of God, about two or three hours. In this way would have a sufficient margin to bury the unhappy pilgrims from the Ring, and other preparations for the next session [9] .
managers of the new offices as a "gravedigger of influenza-infected false", "deluded driver for City workers", etc. confidence were selected carefully by Pablo Brotons straight. As already noted, citizens should not smell what was there.

[9] The so-called Ludovico treatment described in more detail in A Clockwork Orange condition was basically a guy with negative stimuli that were absolutely unable to commit acts of violence. The treatment given is called Ephrem Reverse Ludovico Treatment, which as its name suggests, is the exact opposite and is the conditioning of a subject so that certain controlled stimuli produce in him a brutal desire to kill.

The necropolitics - XX by Marí Coig Francisco Serrano and Juan Pastor is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Spain License . Elbichoonline

Warm Up Songs Ice Hocky

"Polvo Eres"

This is the name of one of the most entertaining of the National Radio of Spain. As no land is pretty short match issue, but occasionally I get into the section of the same podcasts and listen to more of a stretch.

Here's a few interesting examples: Dead

motorcycle

Zoroastrian Worship

Esto me ha hecho pensar en qué me gustaría que hiciesen con mi cuerpo cuando muera, pero no llego a ninguna conclusión. Supongo que no me importa lo que hagan con él, pero si aprovechan mis órganos, mejor. Y si luego, con lo que quede, me quieren dejar en una torre del silencio mejor aún, ¡viva Zaratustra!


Ah, por cierto, hay documentos gráficos del muerto en moto y el muerto "parao".

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Swollen And Sore Punching

The necropolitics - XIX

XIX

"Bonum vinum laetificat cor hominis" [7]

had been working all morning in the ditch, especially after the meal (seasoned with powerful cold beer and wine), most workers showed euphoric and full of happiness, as they beat the increasingly hard ground with their beaks.
For the brightness of blue sky that hung over them, out of the ditch, Nonauj estimated to be about 19:30 pm or 20:00. "In anything I see my house. My own house 'is said while his companion, Cap, took out the land he threw to the ground with a shovel.
Separately, Cap, I imagined what it would be sleeping in a place where no one had to stay half awake in case someone decided to take away from the stabbing site. Remembered that only a few days ago, or even part of the "INTE" (INTEGRATED) from the center and outer ring. Nonauj looked. He looked so happy as he.
Suddenly there was a roar. Cap Nonauj and looked toward the far edge of the trench, where he had dug the ramp that led to the long hole: here was a man standing with a gun in his hand. Was shooting right and left on the workers who were under his feet.
- Repent I say! Paradise awaits!

BUUUM K-, K-BUUUUM!

Cap

Nonauj and saw with horror of how a small flood of people moved to where they were, desperately trying to escape. On the one hand, the trench was not ramp, so that the group of workers, with Cap Nonauj and his head were crushed each other into a wall of earth more than two meters.
Two workers managed to climb over the scrum and reach the soil surface. But the type of gun, with a sentence ranging from his bushy beard, and two shots from his shotgun, got to stop the advance of the "escape": "Where will you misguided souls?! Did renunciáis the infinite benevolence of your humble pastor?!

BUUUM K-, K-BUUUUM!

Cap

Nonauj and felt how a warm-blooded fine curtain fell on their heads and those of their peers. They understood that there was going to a slaughter of biblical proportions. Nonauj got an arm into the crowd, trying to reach the edge and grasp it. The gun sounded. K-BUUM! His hand was gone. Instead, a bloody stump terrorizing those who dared to face him. Cap tries to help his friend, but he lost consciousness and was soon crushed by the angry footsteps of the workers. Nonauj had died.
- The Power of the Lord is infinite! Humble before him and I will take you to your home! - Roared the type of gun.
Then, as if the individual had become even crazier than it was, there were a number of explosions that followed killed eight or nine people [8] (With such a mass of human flesh was difficult to ascertain the exact number).
on the floor, a homeless man wrapped in their own entrails, which went by the side of the overalls, trying to touch the feet of his murderer. CRACK! The man stepped on his gun hand, and with a terrible gesture of superiority pointed to his head and his brains scattered them on the walls of earth and the face of the "spectators" of the front row. People started to freak. Several people jumped in the direction of the murderer, with the intention, rather than attack him, of running away down the ramp.

BUUM-K-K-K-BUUUM BUUM. That

many shotgun cartridges stored in your belly. Cap thought that perhaps it was one of those arms that used the last whale before the species became extinct: maximum destruction power, maximum speed and availability, increased capacity, "made in Taiwan."
- Now kneel!
The order was not immediately accepted. The gun had to re-employment. And when the head of another worker broke into several pieces, the mandate was finally heeded.
- My name is Ephraim, and I am your savior. Cap
warned that the majority of those present, including himself, were crying. There, kneeling beside the body flattened Nonauj was waiting their turn to die. Unfortunately he played in last place. Efren
forced to look into his eyes. Cap
spat in his face. Efren
blew his testicles. But, as if immediately realized his mistake, he corrected himself and blew his brains out.
Yes, the owner of that gun was not there to be driven by their own impulses. But to do the will of another. The infinitely wise and merciful will of his Father.

[7] As everyone knows, "the good wine gladdens the heart of man" ...
[8] That fact is known in Celtic mythology as spasm of Furia, a sudden increase in the strength and courage of the hero sometimes accompanied by a physical metamorphosis. For more information see the stories of King Slaine.

The necropolitics - XIX Coig Marí by Francisco Serrano and Juan Pastor is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Spain License . Elbichoonline