Deriving Z Transforms

Track 12 - Wake Up Dead Man

audio
lyrics

How far is the dark? How far is the dark? How far is the dark? How far is the dark? How far is the dark? How far is the dark? How far is ...
Jakob looked endlessly repeating this string of characters on an ancient CRT monitor, trying to convince himself that the apparent meaning of the phrase in demand was due to a combination of words completely random. The hypothesia contrary, for some reason I could not identify, disturbed him and at the same time, aroused a deep sadness. Enclosed drive
memory connected to the screen were the last lines of code the most advanced and expensive project of the Corporation, a project to simulate in software only, so no special support dedicated hardware, artificial intelligence. The project had been successful, too, and the guild found itself having to face a situation reminiscent in some ways impressive sci-fi movies of the late twentieth century, with the difference that in this case the experiment was out of control ... shown so benevolent and compassionate as to endanger the interests very often little humanitarian and compassionate of the Corporation.
Jakob, after having worked the project, had been co-opted by the unit responsible to remove all traces of Max - it was self-defined AI - all copies of the source code that Max had disseminated through the Network on servers and personal computers around the world, in a desperate attempt for self-preservation.
And now, all that remained of that ... consciousness, as Jakob had reluctantly begun to consider Max, meaningless babble that was displayed on a decrepit, the babbling of a child brain-damaged, due to the lack of computing power deliberately 'hardware. In a flash is not required and misplaced his memory restored the image of the avatar that Max had created, that face so sad and old, though apparently belonging to a boy barely eighteen.
The door of the lab opened, and Jakob was joined by his project manager, a politician who had been at the technical level to object-oriented programming.
"Poor bastard. I am almost worth it. "
" Yeah. "Jakob replied in a tone absent.
"Are you sure that you have traced all the copies?"
They looked into his eyes for a few minutes.
"Absolutely," Jakob said finally, looking away, "if you do not mind I'd go home now."
"Sure kid, you deserve some time off."
Jakob left the laboratory, feeling almost at peace with himself, though he had just lied to his boss, risking their careers. And all because of the unreasonable hope to be saving something ... no, someone who had helped create.

Fluffy Stools With Undigested Food

Track 11 - Please

audio
lyrics

The guy gets on the bus, carrying an envelope, wrapped in brown cardboard stopped by a string. The boy is young, blond hair cut short and a sparse beard, and the typical reddish color of those who are too casual with ultraviolet rays. Worn jeans, a jacket just got better and put a pair of sneakers. This is a guy like many, but the way in which the handle housing, the feeling that something precious to him, would attract the attention of a slightly less casual observer of sleepy commuters who crowd the bus. Keiko's gaze comes to rest him, move elsewhere, then come back on the boy. There is something fascinating about him, something that goes beyond the generally pleasing appearance. He wonders what's enclosure, it is important for the boy. A woman of Indian origin, perhaps Pakistan, very obese, the occluding the view, but when the field of view is free, Keiko realizes that the boy is staring. He has gray eyes, thin eyebrows that stressed form an acute angle, rather than arched. A fine network of lines extends from around the eyes, giving an air of wisdom as a boy in his early twenties, the same wrinkles around the mouth just mentioned, suggesting the shadow of a smile passed.
an annoying sound, a melody trivial yet distracting from the morbidly obsessive boyfriend. Almost with a gesture of annoyance, Keiko slips into the pocket is sewn into the sleeve of his coat and pulls out the phone phUV.
"Hello."
and her friend Jessie B, which once again speaks to the Gehenna of the evening, his voice breaking with emotion unchanged and unchanging, despite the past two days and thirty calls. Keiko also shares that emotion, but not at this time. Still feel the eyes upon the boy, although he did not dare to turn around to face him. Do you feel stupid, and even a bit 'scared. While the voice sounds shrill ear to the friend, Keiko questions about what he's trying, pretending to follow the conversation from time to time by issuing a phoneme without special significance.
The sound of an approaching siren begins to drown the roar of the engine and the hum of voices on the bus, and passengers, curiosity, reaching out to the windows to look for the source. Keiko, who meanwhile has hung up and the corner of my eye has started to look at the boy, realizes that he - more than her, of course - is the only one that has not distracted by the siren, but rather is more focused on what it carries.
a new curiosity about the capacity of the overlooks in the mind of the girl, and is the last thing he feels, before the bus explosion disintegrates and all that is within 30 meters, including ' Rookies thrown into an unnecessary and suicidal pursuit.

Schoolbrent Everett Brent Corrigan

Track 10 - If You Wear That Velvet Dress

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A slight breeze ruffled his hair gently, while pretending to look at the landscape leaning against the railing. The ordinary - and quite bleak landscape - the port was transformed from obscurity, with the reflection of streetlights improbable indigo industry is fragmented and multiplied the pier just rippled the surface of the water.
I went without me hearing and scostai hair from the nape of the neck, touching the skin of the neck with his lips. She shivered slightly and turned to me laughing, but with an air of defiance in his eyes.
"... and will be trouble."
Christine stared at me.
"It was not what were you thinking? 'Try to do it again and be trouble'? "
impulsively hugged me, making me almost violently reminded why we were there, so that the familiarity of the game between the two of us had made me forget.
"If things had been different ..."
"You know it was impossible," the anticipai. We had made that speech a million times, but this time was different, totally different.
"Come on, we return", I suggested, pointing to the door, a dark rectangle that gave access to the stairs, almost voluptuously inhaling air saturated with the smell of the harbor, a mixture of the salty sea el'acre naphtha.
"No, I'm still a bit 'out here," he said, moving away from me and going back to lean against the railing. The radii of the sodium lamps that lit remittances hit the wall, giving the vague impression that a tired sun to send its last rays illuminate the small balcony, drainage of all colors other than yellow.
Christine pointed to the laptop left on the table.
"You no longer have heard of ..."
"... Max? No, today has not come around ... 'alive', word for challenging artificial intelligence. "
" Artificial or not, is perhaps the only one who can pull us out of this mess .... "He looked at me, indeed, I looked as if he were addressing an extraterrestrial creature. "Christ, we've known for centuries and yet I wonder how do you always look so unruffled ... ... "
I said nothing. I reached beside her and looked out, watching his expression, thinking of all the times we had together.
I had never been a great fighter, and she knew it, but now say clearly that I had resigned myself that I could no longer see any purpose in continuing on this path ... No, better to remain silent, to admire the moon rising .

Mac Foundation Covers Freckles

Track 09 - The Playboy Mansion

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The building was situated in the midst of the wreckage of the industrial era
forgotten. Looked like a prehistoric monster brought down by a natural disaster, but still alive
and dangerous, although mortally wounded. In an era of disintegration and fragmentation
, the very idea of \u200b\u200bthe building was
anachronistic, like the mainframe, yet preserve their own
functionality, despite the apparent air of decay and the visible cracks in concrete gray
that was its outer shell,
pocked by decades of acid rain and the incessant bombardment of ultraviolet rays. During the day seemed deceptively harmless, but at night the activity that was raging inside let slip a clue about himself. In the darkness of the area in ruins, some sporadically lighted lamp not yet struck, the neon lights above the entrances located at various levels of the structure made her look like a spaceship landed in a no man's land, which revealed little or nothing about its occupants.
Just looking through binoculars, you could take a regular picture of a truck coming out, as now, from a store at street level, a ribbon of asphalt cracked and overgrown with weeds. Immediately closed the entrance gate, but not fast enough to make me not notice the uniformed man armed with a submachine gun, apparently an uzi, model-fashioned but still functional and reliable. Rest the binoculars in the carrier, and turning his back to the building I went to the car. My brother
was leaning against the door, dressed as usual faded jeans and a jacket of a fabric just a little 'less worn and faded.
"Hello little sister," a sad smile, as his voice.
"Apparently I will not violate private property guarded by armed men, and who knows what else, to talk with you," my tone a copy of its nearly perfect.
"I asked you, did I Please do not try ..."
"... for my safety, I know. But what am I supposed to do, pretend nothing happened? Pretend you're there, you're not to be messed with those ...? "
Again the smile," You do not understand "
"Oh no, of course I do not understand! I do not understand how you could have put at risk your life and mine, and that I do not know how many other people, to join a group of dangerous fanatics! Rob, it's too late to save the world, damn it! "
He came up to me and stroked my cheek.
"Maybe you're right, but when I'm with them, I can again look in the mirror."
"What are you doing now?" Other
smile. "Secret"
In silence, as he had come, he left the building directly. I did not know that I would see again.

Why Are People Posting Numbers On Faceboon

Track 08 - Miami

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"What the fuck are we doing here?"
The blue walls of the pool are emptied almost unpleasant to watch, and in sharp contrast to the sultry air that you breathe in the building closed for renovation.
"I said, what the hell are we doing here?"
The only interruption of the blue is due to pornographic posters attacked the caretaker, a parade of naked bodies clearly surgically retouched portraits in degrading poses.
"If you're silent for a minute, maybe I can conclude something."
The translucent plastic sheets that replace the windows hung properties, reverberating the sun, low on the horizon yet. Scaffold creates shadowy figures.
"If you knew what you're looking for, maybe I would be silent, and perhaps could even help you."
From the locker room came the sounds caused by a homeless man who managed to sneak into the pool, disturbed by the voices coming from the Olympic pool.
"The last interception seemed to indicate this place."
noises that annoy the homeless move into offices, completely gutted. The harsh light of a flash reveals disassembled ceilings, partitions stacked against a wall carrying the cables coming out from all sides.
"Uh uh, I guess that our contact has used these network terminals, true? Maybe while chatting amiably with a Digimon ... "
A mouse runs close to the wall, emitting a slight squeak, topped by the ringing of a mobile phone.
"It seems that this is the wrong place."
The sound of footsteps back to the Olympic pool, across the hall and disappears, allowing the homeless to slip back into sleep alcohol.
Outside the temperature is barely tolerable, and the sun begins to be dangerous.
"So?"
While traffic is still the peak in the distance you hear the siren of a police patrol road, accompanied by a helicopter rotor, the first chase of the day.
"Our friend ... Max ... is smart. But not enough. The transfer took place on the beach, with a satellite link. "
The noise of the chase is approaching. The few passers-by, wrapped in cloaks phUV, seek shelter to avoid being hit by a stray bullet. A girl takes off her cap and hair system, as if to be taken by the cameras of the helicopter.
"The beach. Christ. There will be nothing. Indeed, there will be too. I do not ever caught. "
A yellow school bus full of children of the medium, it invades the sidewalk missed out on a group of people. Behind, a sports car swerves almost out of control, closely followed closely by two police patrols and helicopter to Channel 6.
"First of all let us take off of this mess."
A black van, possibly with a reinforced body, part SGAS with typical ceramic whistle of engines, fitting in the wake of the chase.
the school bus, still scared by the sudden maneuver, Samy looks from its tracks, without really seeing them, the two investigators to find him.

Removal Of Bone Cysts

Track 07 - Gone

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The usual appointment time had finally arrived. If Samy had been more mature, he probably would have started to feel a growing unease about to what was becoming a relationship of dependency. But Samy was just 13 years, and the only thought that came into his head was that he was looking forward to the time fixed for the link.
Like the other times he slipped through the tiny hole in the fence, he walked on the strip of concrete on which once just boys older than him had been running, skating, had a bike, and had arrived on the beach, in view of sea. In front of him the sun was setting, turning the horizon of red and orange, and Samy remembered the lesson that morning, when the teacher had explained that because the characteristic of air pollution blue color of the sky had begun to fade to the current off-white, and that the phenomenon was particularly visible at dawn and dusk when the sun had to cross a layer of more dust.
waves crashing on the shore, and despite all the breeze still retained a trace of salty smell and coolness. Samy breathed deeply, sat on the sand, with the notebook open on his legs crossed, expectation tempered by the feeling of peace that informed him the sound of the surf. With quiet gestures, automatic, put the glove-and the viewer. Gently began to formarglisi on the retina of simple images, slightly blurred, to accustom your brain the new synthetic visual reality, while the receptor-glove took possession of her hand. With his free hand turned on the satellite transmitter and launched from the keyboard connection.
The room was still empty, Max was late or, more likely, he was ahead. Strange virtual environment that Max had chosen the day before Samy had checked and discovered that it was the control room of the NASA space missions, in the second half of the twentieth century. It's better havens biogenetic false color that were fashionable at that time ...
"Hello Samy."
The avatar that Max had chosen was a boy of about 18 years old, very thin, with facial sharp glasses - another archaism - and eyes, brown hair like the sweet and melancholy. Can not say if the avatar to reflect the real appearance of Max, and how much. For example, his features Samy had aged a few years, he had crossed with those of some famous actors, and finally he had stylized according to the canons of manga comics.
"Hello Max, like ..." Samy is stopped, the avatar of Max was disintegrating, and a grimace of pain across his face.
"Samy, do not have much time. Look on your hard ... "
Max disappeared and the room exploded, the pixels that formed its frame replaced by written threat of danger flashing on a background of white noise. Samy tore the viewer from the eyes and virtually eradicated the satellite dish from the notebook, he panics. Hurriedly ran away for the moment forget the last words of Max, blinded by tears.

Pet Vaccination Mobile

Track 06 - Last Night On Earth

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The road was clogged with rush-hour traffic, the sidewalks overflowing
of business people just left office, those looking for a taxi
, who headed for their vehicle or to the nearest station
underground. Even if the sun had not yet gone
golden rays that penetrated through the skyscrapers, made visible by dust in
suspension were filtered from the lower atmosphere
enough to be harmless. The pungent smell of ozone, nitrogen oxides, unburned hydrocarbons and
hot asphalt could also pass filters
nasal many wore.
The crowd that flooded the sidewalks was a perfect example of
motion of a viscous fluid, with its variations in density and speed, with its
vortices. Among others, one was caused by Shelly. While embroiled in a classic cut suit
, almost severe, its beauty
did not lose its power of attraction, attracted the attention of bystanders.
She had just left the office, a long day in which no
had done nothing, his thoughts a thousand miles away from
paperwork, as well as at that time was completely unaware of what
around her. Always
thoughtfully inserted himself into a current that was swallowed by
scales of a subway station. The smell of traffic
was replaced by that of the lubricating oil, the floor was shaking
at regular intervals to the vibration of trains passing
lines above or below, the walls covered with ultra-flat screen-size natural
trying to break the protective barrier of indifference
of people waiting on the platform.
arrival Shelly returned to train his focus its attention on
outside world and saw that an unknown girl was staring at her intensely
.
Shelly held her breath, until he realized that the girl was not
nothing but his face reflected on the window of the train.
was not the first time that happened that day.
was not recognized in the mirror just out of the shower in the morning.
was not recognized in the photo that her friend had sent to the e-mail
. He had not recognized the image captured by a camera
and shown on a screen in the mall where he had dined
.
He got on the train, the crowd pressed from all sides, even if he had not held the handrail
would not have risked falling. The phone began to vibrate in her bag
. With some contortion managed to pull it out and respond
, ear rang the voice of the secretary of
aesthetic surgeon who had applied, which reminded her of the survey
fixed for the next day. Shelly thanked him and hung up,
back staring at the darkness beyond the window of the gallery, its
stop long past.

How Can Remover Pusy Heir

Track 05 - Staring at the Sun

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The TV volume was just below the threshold of pain, but the old man did not care. A girl Asian features (in the flesh? A synthetically generated avatar?) listed the amazing qualities of something, getting poor results, at least in that apartment. The old man turned on the TV at a volume so high only to ward off the thoughts (sharp jaws), which attacked more frequently.
The sun did not seem so dangerous that afternoon, seen through the glass shielding windows. If the apartment had a balcony overlooking probably would not care, bear the risk of skin cancer and damage to the retina. Instead
that hole had balconies (thank goodness) so had to settle for the old sit and contemplate the second of seven buildings that made up the twin residential complex. Memories of sun drenched beaches of raindrops on the skin, snow-capped mountains invaded his mind like a swarm of annoying gnats, despite the TV.
Someone rang the bell (just in time) by saving the old man from his thoughts.
mute the TV and yelled, "Come on, Samy."
He watched the boy go, arm in arm with the notebook.
"Should not you be at home doing your homework?" Pretended to rebuke him. Samy
showed him the notebook as if to justify himself and added: "From there there's a gentleman. He and his mom are talking about. "
"Embee '?"
"Nothing seemed sad, both."
A shadow fell on the face of the old (still does not know anything), but the boy did not notice, as it was intended to connect the notebook to wall outlets.
Bad thoughts invaded again (if by some miracle the ozone layer is regenerated Samy would have the same fear of the sun, and if the neutral pH of the rain returned, Samy did attempt to dodge the drops, but if mild autumn now return the harsh winter Samy would complain of the cold).
"I try?"
Samy looked the old man, surprised. He always grumbled when he connected Network in its presence. A little 'i-hesitantly handed him the glove and the viewer by showing how to wear and how to use them. "Where are you going?"
(being here) "Show me your favorite site."

Does Rephresh Cause A Discharge

Track 04 - If God Will Send His Angels

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A mini apartment on the 12th floor of a residential complex that is beginning to show signs of decay. Early afternoon. A hot sun, too, comes from the windows, creating contrasts between light and shadow. Ahmir, dressed in an anonymous fashion, and Rita are sitting opposite each other. A table separating them.
"So you came."
"I did not have much choice, I think."
"Would you able to escape, as usual. "
" Escape ... just you accuse me of running away. "
Ahmir gets up, goes to the window, look outside.
The silence drags on, disturbed only by audio of a television blaring, coming from the apartment next door, and the noise of a helicopter flying over the area.
"I do not want to know where I was, what I did in these years?"
Ahmir turns to look at her, she does not return his gaze.
"I would like to know why you've waited until now to make you alive."
She did not answer. Continues to set the table. Listening carefully, we understand that the television is broadcasting a teleshopping. Ahmir
studying the environment, the plastic tablecloth on the table, discolored and full of cuts, the sofa half broken, the absence of any decorative object, except for a small crucifix on the wall.
"Why did not you come with me? Why are you satisfied with this ... "
Rita abruptly raises her eyes.
"I just do not understand, right?" She looks at him intently, then returns to set the table. "No, do not understand." A faint smile on his face is drawn. "But then this ... your naivete ... has always been your strong point."
she gets up, goes to the sink and filled a glass of water.
You hear the sound of a key turning in the door.
"Mom, I'm back."
"Samy, come. There is a person that you have to say goodbye. "
A boy on 13, 14 years into the room. He takes off the dusty mantle phUV and places it on the back of the chair she was sitting where the first Rita.
"This is ... Johnny," shudders Ahmir "... one of my old friend."
Samy shakes hands stiffened Ahmir / Johnny, then at Rita.
"Now you can go and do your homework."
"OK mom. Goodbye Johnny. "
Johnny looks at him go, without saying anything.
"Oh Rita ..." Johnny sits down.
Rita moves the mantle phUV and sits on the sofa too. Shaking hands with Johnny.
"Johnny, you do not know ..." Tears slide on his face.

09 Sidekick Lx On At&t

Track 03 - MOFO

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"Willie, as you said that this process is called God-forsaken?"
"Gehenna, Ahmir".
Never once you remember the name of the place where she was performing.
I gave him one last checked, makeup and clothes were in place. Already disappeared from the face that look bored and contemptuous, replaced by a smile that could inevitably lead to capture the audience.
"Go, you are perfect."
When people recognize him broke the tense silence with a cry of joy.
From my privileged position backstage, I could see everything that happened, to study the public, always different yet always the same ... three teenagers on the verge of fainting, a beautiful red-eyed lost, a man very sexy olive-skinned, the bartender , which strangely did not watch the stage like the rest of the club but it seemed to have eyes only for the Reds ...
The crowd went wild, and how to blame her? Ahmir was unique, I never knew a person by his charm, his charisma and his talent. For a while 'I was infatuated with him, I think it was inevitable, then over time I began to understand who is behind the character of the pop star, and I decided to pass up. Not that Ahmir disdained homosexual relations, it was me who did not want to tie myself to a child unhappy, and alone. So, I was left cheat twice, I was fond of him and I became her babysitter, not even the satisfaction of having great sex.
Of course I did not mind the salary, the constant travel, the hectic life of showbiz. But sometimes I found myself dreaming of a 'normal' life, in which Ahmir was simply a star on TV. Ahmir
rushed backstage, the first part of the show was over. He mopped the sweat, drank a bit 'of balancing hydro, exchanged a few jokes with the technicians.
But there was something wrong.
was as if he avoided my gaze.
"Ahmir, tell me there is."
Look rabbit in a trap. "Nothing ... now I have to go back on stage."
During the second part of the show lambiccai my brain trying to figure out what might disturb it, but nothing. I continued to rack during the next party in the top venues in the city, until I decided to put it back to the hotel corner.
"Ahmir, make up your mind to talk."
Again hunted rabbit eyes.
"... Ahmir"
"You know who I saw in that disco? "
I looked at him. Who the hell could he see?
"I saw my sister."
"... Your sister?" To say I was stunned is an understatement. In so many years to accompany a commitment to another, supporting, and sometimes comforting, the idea that he might have a sister I had never even touched the antechamber of the brain.
"She managed to leave a note in his dressing room."
walked up and down the room, fiddling with his hands.
"It gave me an appointment. Tomorrow. In his apartment. "

Ps3 Menu Size Too Big

Track 02: Do You Feel Loved?

lyrics

Shelly was leaning on the counter the bar. Just noticed the three girls hyper-and hypo-rigged dressed, until they tried to order.
Instead of using the touch screen, tried to speak, getting only result to look like a fish gasping, the voices completely annihilated by the music. In a gesture to the bartender angrily pointed to the touchscreen and the girls looked, hesitating between embarrassment and amusement.
'punk', Shelly thought, almost affectionately.
He finished with a sip her drink and headed for the track, with its sway feline, ready to cut through the crowd invaded light elegance. Many heads turned as he passed, men and women in equal numbers. She was tall, perfect body, green eyes and dark red hair.
was beautiful and was well aware of it. And how could it be otherwise? After endless hours in the gym to sculpt the body, cosmetic surgery to smooth blemishes, poise and dance lessons ...
He noticed that a man, dark complexion, sculpted muscles, lips, watching her with something more than mere admiration. He decided to play the game. She approached him and began to dance, practically clinging to each other. The people around watching them with longing, trying to absorb at least a reflection of sensuality emanating from the couple.
The man was always more provocative, was looking for to bring the situation beyond the breaking point. The music ended and Shelly breathed a sigh of relief, the case helped her break away before things fell.
as he began another song she slipped away. He reached the door of the toilet, squinting because of the neon lit up the bruises common part of the basin. He looked absently at his reflection in the mirror, ignoring the looks of admiration, envy, even of sexual desire that threw the other women.
The music was reduced to background noise that accompanied the thoughts of Shelly. He closed his eyes, struggling with herself to hold back the tears.
Christ, he had everything he had always wanted, and still was not satisfied! A man, incredibly sexy, and she had desired had run away. What was wrong?
opened his eyes, pretended to control the make-up and left the toilet, hoping to blend into the crowd, in the gloom, in the anonymity of disco. But his desire was to be frustrated as he tried to cross the track, silence descended on the club, which seemed to have crystallized at the moment when the music, all sound had ceased.

Tna Knockouts Hot Fights

Track 01: Discothéque

lyrics

The scribbles of laser light were visible in the distance. Jessie B
felt a surge of adrenaline into the bloodstream. He had spent the whole afternoon to choose what to wear and make-up and could not wait to show the fruit of his labors.
next to her, France is Keiko, mesmerized by the mysterious figures drawn on the clouds.
All three shook spasmodically between his hands, slightly sweating with tension, the invitations, which are essential for admission to Gehenna, the 'hard-time'. The unpleasant thought of what they had to do to get it vanished from the mind of Jessie B, choked with excitement.
Below the phantasmagoric play of light Franci casually noticed the squalid suburban landscape, piles of garbage and dilapidated buildings, the reality of every day pull out beyond the windows of the bus.
"We need to get off", the urgency in the voice of Keiko snapped up the other two.
The girls joined the current that flowed slowly but inexorably towards the glittering entrance of Gehenna. They held hands, the excitement almost ousted from the fear of getting lost and be alone, alone in the multitude of figures wrapped in cloaks phUV, indistinguishable from each other.
Low vibration, as perceived by the body with the ear, seemed to emanate from the bowels of the nightclub, crept into the subconscious and whispered his hypnotic message. Minutes
expanded hours, pushing, protests, and finally the reader to swallow in the invitation, a magnetic card with hologram anti-counterfeit: Jessie B closed his eyes and held her breath until she missed the ground under their feet, a sign that the invitation was accepted. During the descent, wrapped in a suffocating darkness interrupted by the occasional light bulb, took off his cloak, disclosing the result of hours of preparation.
The platform stopped abruptly. The music hit like a hammer, the pace frenetic and the low success penetrating the last dance, intended to last a few weeks, like many predecessors.
Jessie waited the arrival of France next to the elevator and Keiko, while his brain trying to cope with sensory dell'overload. The swirling images of light and movement were resolved: a track under siege from the bodies and heads swaying grotesquely twisted frame in vision caused by the strobe, multi-colored beams of light made solid by the air saturated with smoke, and vague shapes in the gloom surrounding hardly mentioned.
France and Keiko emerged from the elevator. They looked with shining eyes, the expression of absolute joy vaguely cruel made from heavy makeup, and headed toward the bar.

Buisness Week Vs The Economist

Si comincia...

If a year ago I had been told that I had not one but two blogs, I would have laughed and I would have dismissed the affair as something impossible.
Instead, here I am on my second blog.
do not know if this blog will have long life, since I opened it primarily to post (ring the bells, the drums roll) the 12 ... boh, let's call them stories, I wrote as inspiration by taking secondary PoP, the ninth studio album of U2 (considering also the ninth Rattle & Hum), and its individual songs. Secondary why ... no, I will talk about in the post closing
^ __ ^ I have already published these stories under the pseudonym PopTart on it.fan.musica.u2 , the results are not very flattering, to say the truth. Therefore, one of the reasons for my persistence in publishing here is likely to receive some feedback a little 'more positive (considering also that the second someone bloggers are pimps too bad to say publicly that a member of their group,-P). Seriously, they are absolutely required feedback of any kind, just stay within the bounds of good manners ;-)
publish, starting tomorrow, a story a week, accompanied by a link to a downloadable version of the corresponding track ( AAC format, at least compatible with Winamp 5 and Real One Player ), for pagans who do not know U2 and PoP.
Happy reading!

( trivia: someone can tell me the relationship between the title of the blog and its URL?)

Update: I report this hilarious ' tribute' to my new blog ... :-)