International Day Against Torture 2015: the body is here

Stories and News No. 769

Once upon a time there was a body.
A great one, too much great.
Of different skin colors and genders.
Various age.
And at the thought of looking down in that measure makes the image disturbing.
Yet let’s look, let’s be brave.
Because that body is here.
Let’s approach eyes and heart.
And let’s read.
Let’s read the stories etched in the flesh, as tattoos fed by the worst indelible ink in the universe: the human cruelty.
There is the memory of the cuts.
And the dancing of the burns.
Down there is the show of the bruises.
And further down the gift of the lashes.
No, let’s not avert our eyes.
Let’s read together, again.
There is an echo of the beating.
And above the shadow of the blows.
Over there are the consequences of punches.
And there those of kicks.
Yes, I know, that is a filthy storytelling, but it is here.
The body is still here.
So let’s not give up.
Because we have to read more.
There is dried still too red blood.
And hematoma of the soul that is purple only on the surface, but deeply it survives regardless of the color.
There is the internal fracture, of bones and other concealed fragilities.
And there is the trauma of the after, cancer that you can hardly eradicate alone.
Without the help of those who, like it or not, allowed the abuse.
Of the body.
That is here.
That's why we have to read.
All the stories.
To write together the final word.
As the postscript.
Nevermore

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Gay Immigrants Romani people etc.: rights for all or nobody

Stories and News No. 768

Once upon a time there were the people of rights.
That population was made up of many kind of persons.
Different, despite appearances.
So far, we are still in the land of banality.
So be brave, let us strive to leave.

Inside the people made up of many different persons, despite appearances, there were some who claimed to be in favor of migrants and the resulting free movement of survivals.
Hopes.
And the only possible future, where we are all equally guests.
Nevertheless, at the same time, many of them stood up against the unpopular and uncomfortable inhabitant of lager 2.0.
In short, Romani people.
In other words: I'm not racist, I’m totally not, but the 'gypsies'...

At the same time, in the same people, perhaps even sitting alongside, there were those who screamed in defense of the latter: "Don’t say ‘gypsies’, that is offensive."
However, seamless in the heart, the same persons were against any alternative to the canon as quite matrimonial mosaic, pointing as vicious frenzy every type of intercourse considered alien.
That is, with one face-side I defend the rights of Romani people and with the other I fight for the so-called traditional family.
What do they do with the third side, because there's always a third in such cases, it is better not to know.

On the enemy fence, confused in the same people, there were those who felt proud of their gender emancipation, making it a flag, real and metaphorical.
Nevertheless, a blink of an eye later, you would have been able to listen them in monologues against invaders of the home soil, guilty of the worst congenital fault: to be born ‘there’ and pretend to live ‘here’, instead of dying ‘in the middle’.
Synthesizing, I want free love by day and prisoner immigrants by night.
Or vice versa, depending on how I wake up in the morning.

In the same people, a few meters away, clandestines causes activists, borders breakers and customs eaters strongly disagreed, screaming passionately.
But among them you could see those that just a moment before were showing their disdain for the souls deemed eccentric, stubborn in manifesting at the sunlight the colors of their erotic imagination.
Translating: I am close to the immigrants who dream of a better tomorrow, but I stay well away from the 'sexual men', ‘women who copulate with themselves’ and ‘those who travel from a nature to another one’, even if I have not yet figured out if I have to call them male or female.

I will stop here, although I might add those who wish to protect the ‘abused animals’ but not the ‘victims of homophobia’ and those who were sharpening their knives with the insensitive persons towards the ‘differently abled’ and then put them back in the drawer if ‘differently’ also included ‘sexual orientation’.

Once upon a time there were people.
Another kind of.
That one formed by the rest of the persons.
Those who are not a population.
They are just a lump of flesh saturated with hatred and loneliness.
Which a long ago has dismissed the last remnants of humanity left.
But they are strong, lump of flesh or true population, they are still very strong.
And their strength is only one.
The dull and unforgivable division.
Of the people of rights...

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Natural family definition explained by an alien

Stories and News No. 767

Once upon a time there was an alien.
An alien named Buk.
He had been sent long ago on earth to observe.
Writing down.
And, based solely on what his eyes had carefully seen, try to understand.
Once that is done, Buk would have been return to his planet and tell what had understood of mankind.
In particular, his mission was about the human family.
Once at home he was immediately questioned by his colleagues explorers.
"Tell us, Buk, what the human family is founded on?"
The alien made it clear that the earth was very different from them.
On the Buk’s planet family is founded on the union between a person and a book.
A book of stories, of course.
Some of you will wonder how it is possible that a living creature and a book can flirt, let alone procreate, fight with a lot of throwing slippers and smashing plates, then making love again, and unfortunately leaving.
Then remaining friends, but maybe not.
It is, it is very possible, Buk might explain, because in the books of stories you can really find everything.
And there's nothing in the universe that you could not find in a story.
So nothing and no one could be excluded because was considered different or wrong.
"The human family is not founded on the union between a person and a book", Buk wanted immediately to clarify. "They barely read them, let alone promising their eternal love to a novel..."
"But then," his curious friends said, "what wonder more amazing than a union between a person and a book is the human family founded on? A union with a giant cup of strawberries and cream?"
"No, because later they would eat it again and again, so they would betray the first and all subsequent too easily."
"A union with a dip in the waves of crystal water after a smooth run-up on a not too hot sand?"
"No, not at all, because after this run-up they would forget the importance of the adjective crystalline and they would commit, as they always do, fouling up oceans with all the imaginable garbage."
"What about the union with a movie, anyone, able to donate a good laugh in the saddest moment of their lives?"
"No, not really, because you speak about an ephemeral serenity and family, as you all well know, need a long life of it."
"What you think about a union with a dream?"
"Some humans try but when they decide to make their love public, going out hand in hand through the streets, it's as... as if that dream was a balloon and everyone felt entitled to puncture it."
"Union between two humans?"
"Define humans."
"Buk, do not talk like Hal 9000... we mean human beings."
"Forgive me, I am still confused because I heard someone, strong of alleged overcrowding, saying that the family is founded on two specific types humanoids."
"What?"
"Men and women, the latter under protection, because in their judgment could cause homicides."
"We do not understand at all."
"Me neither, and I was also on the earth."
"However, do you understand if the human family is or is not founded on the union between men and women?"
"Define men and women. No, I am just kidding... calm down. Basing on what I've seen I have not yet understood what the human family is founded on, but I discovered one thing."
"What?"
"To really understand you have to go inside a real family and not looking at it from the outside as you would do with a painting."
"How?"
"By asking permission with much, much respect and courtesy."
"And then?"
"And then, perhaps, you would know a little more about what that family is funded on. Regarding the others it would take too long. Only a human person would be so arrogant and megalomaniac to claim to know what are founded on. "
All billion families of the earth...

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World’s oldest person alive today: letter from woman to woman

Stories and News No. 766

116 years old, Jeralean Talley has died. She was the oldest woman in the world, that is the oldest ‘person’ in the world.
She was.
Because 21 grams later this record has come to Susannah Mushatt Jones, who will reach the same Jeralean’s age on July 6th.
Here is an imaginary baton passing by letter.
From the old mother of the world to the new one...

Dear Susannah,
here we are.
The moment has come.
Time is now.
So the inhabitants of the TV say when the instant is solemn.
Ladies and gentlemen, the winner is... and let us go with the more or less spontaneous applauses, the important flashes and, who knows, the standing ovation too.
Yes, I know that I could not give you that.
We both ran.
I had no time for greetings.
And you have certainly had not time to say hello to me.
Who has left the scepter.
What nonsense, right?
We are, and we will still be with you, the only real queens of time on earth, but we had found ourselves not having enough.
To look into our eyes.
To shake our hands and maybe hug.
To blink, no needing to talk.
Here, try to draw with me that elusive moment stolen to history.
I am there waiting for you... well, no, it is me that coming to you, sitting on the porch with iced tea on the table and the wagging dog although almost dormant.
I start to climb the stairs, a couple, and you get up to meet me.
All right, let us not speak of our mutual ill mobility.
You invite me to sit on the chair next to yours.
A rocking one, please, be precise in our imaginative framework.
I have always loved dancing and, despite the total approximation, at my age I am happy also with a silent knight of wood that can does just back and forth.
Anyway, many so-called champions of the dance floor do much less, yet they boast.
We are sipping tea and still not talking.
We observe, however.
Indeed, we both admire the rest of mankind reachable with eyes and memory from the porch of the oldest women in the world.
Oldest people, to be precise, as the preface says.
But here, I write women and that applies to the rest.
Because, perhaps, it is not by chance that we two were chosen live in the highest apartment.
Of a special skyscraper, where time is really money.
No, I correct myself: it is worth much more.
Time is time and there is no greater wealth.
For those like us who remember.
To say properly goodbye, we like it or not, to whom will take our place.
Wherever they are.
And from anywhere in the world they will arrive...

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Charleston Church Shooting hate crime everytime

Stories and News No. 765

Speaking of the massacre in the church of Charleston, South Carolina, USA, where a young man killed nine people – according to the news he seems to be ‘white’, the police chief says there is no doubt that it was a hate crime.
The religion of the killer, if he is Catholic rather than Buddhist, does not matter.
No matter whether he is a perfect citizen, a regular immigrant or an illegal one.
It is not relevant even if he has to do with the Isis or Al Qaida.
And I do not think that is because we are talking about a ‘white’ guy.
What intrigues me is the nature of the crime...

Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
Everytime.
Especially the others.

When you close your brain, if you really have one, and open the taps of a putrid belly, vomiting delusions and dullness insulting entire populations, feelings, traditions and lives.
Lives who read and suffer, more or less in silence.

Everytime, really all.
More than ever the others.
Where, due to the alleged heat of your peers, you feel multiply within your courage to face a cowardice that will always remain huge, and stare your gaze on the first existence near your grudge.
He just need to be alone.
She just has to be vulnerable.
There should be at least one.

Everytime, all right.
Starting with the others.
When you turn to the strictly soft side, you clench lips and soul with the same fearful hurry, and although you perfectly know well where truth, justice and humanity flourish, you join the dance of silence.
Because otherwise we would have obtained ‘low votes percentages’.
Because otherwise we would lose ‘subscribers’ and ‘I like it’.
Because otherwise we would not be ‘so many’ anymore.

Everytime, every, yes.
Without neglecting the others.
Where you believe to be among the ranks of the good ones, but you did not take care of the actual destination of your words, your gestures and your looks.
If only we had the chance to follow them up to the most fragile goal.
If only we had the possibility of being that fragile goal.
And if only we had the opportunity to go back and remedy.

Once upon a time there was the hate crime.
But everytime, let us consider them all.
And, in one of them, let’s begin to think very carefully.
Before saying or doing anything...

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