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Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Person of the year

Good.

But better them


 

posted by: Whitebeard at 20:03 | link | comments (2) |
civil rights, peace, censored news

Monday, December 25, 2006

Some Christmas Pudding from Michael Moore

December 24, 2006

Dear friends,

What better way to get the Christmas dinner conversation going than with some fun facts!

This is the first of THREE Christmases left under President George W. Bush. THREE.

Ok, that's not too cheery. Let me try again.

If the daily death toll continues at this rate, sometime on Christmas Day a U.S. soldier will die in Iraq and, with his or her death, more U.S. troops will have been killed in Iraq than all the people lost on 9/11 (2,973).

On second thought, skip the politics for a day and just enjoy the pie.

Merry Christmas to each of you, and peace on earth, wherever we Americans have dropped in.

Yours, Michael Moore

posted by: Whitebeard at 10:56 | link | comments |
peace

Saturday, December 23, 2006

 

Nativity: being a mother today.

The theme for this year’s Christmas Eve vigil of the Comunità dell’Isolotto in Florence, beginning at 10.30 pm on 24 December 2006.

For the first time in almost 40 years, instead of in the open air it will be held at the "Baracche", in via degli Aceri 1.

The celebration will be held jointly with the “F.a.t.e” association which is involved in welcoming and listening to single and immigrant mothers who come to Florence for serious family reasons or because their children are often ill and in need of medical care. This is a way of celebrating how the Nativity is perceived by mothers, the many Marys, who come from far away in search of hope and a better future for their children. Their stories of motherhood blend in with the experiences, emotions, problems and trials of us all, mothers, sons, and fathers of the neighbourhood and of the city-world.

The memory of the motherhood of Mary and the birth of Jesus will be recited by a group of children in the form of a story. This story was written in an educational laboratory and is based on information contained in the Gospels, including the Apocrypha. In particular, the story of the birth of Jesus was given the same status within the stories of other births and son-mother relationships in accordance with an educational approach that seeks to heighten awareness of the humanity of “the son of man” and which frees Jesus and his mother from the realms of myth which have had importance throughout history but which should be reviewed today.

 “Maternity” is a heady, intriguing issue. Being a mother does not only involve giving life in the biological sense – itself a great miracle repeated with every conception, gestation and birth. It also implies the regeneration and recreation of every single factor of the existence of humankind; first and foremost the passing on of DNA but, equally, the passing on of the sense of life, of why we live, the why that we all drink with our mother’s milk, the passing on of the memory of the species, the knowledge gained over the millennia, the ability to adapt and relate to others, the tools of communication (speech, mother tongue…) the first moves towards recognising and handling feelings and the spirit of survival (like the search for the mother’s breast to suck, the cry of hunger, our first big job as soon as we come into the world after starting to breathe!)…

Being a mother means giving light, warmth, security, protection and tenderness and much, much more which are part of us all – mothers, sons but fathers too!

But there is an element of risk in all this. The danger of motherhood being a hindrance to the free growth of children by imprisoning them in a suffocating “embrace”. The fatigue of having to metaphorically cut the umbilical cord every day, or even every minute. The suffering and feelings of guilt that come from having to say “no”. The danger of passing on the negative values of society as well as the positive ones. The burden of educating towards a culture of diversity instead of rubber stamped homologation. The difficulty of finding places and relationships for socializing the problems of education and for experiencing maternity openly and not as an exclusive possession, a maternity towards all children and not just towards “my” son or daughter.

Underneath it all there lies the issue of “welcoming” maternity, the “giving of life”. Perhaps more than just a chronicle of history, the story of the Nativity that we read in the Gospel echoes the ancestral sense of rejection that the established society of every era has erected to oppose the noblest values of maternity, not only the giving of life in the biological sense, but also the cultural and existential aspects too. We know how patriarchal cultures exploit women and their biological capacity to give life while spurning the female culture of maternity. And this is why Mary had to give birth in a stable “because for her there was no room at the inn”. But the Gospel also has the spirit of welcoming life being born, expressed by those who are marginalised by established society, for example the shepherds.

And this issue of welcoming maternity is a particularly thorny problem today because the sense of life is based on possession, money, individual success, on a free-for-all competition and on having rather than being, even to the point, perhaps rather extreme, that the society in which maternity takes place today is dominated by the tendency to give death rather than life. This is why all mothers, not just those who come from far away, have to struggle against the current to give life in its fullest sense. Mothers are cosseted, given grants and support but these are little more than sweeteners because their real life gets increasingly hard.

In preparing for this Christmas Eve vigil, we agreed that all mothers are and feel “foreigners and migrants”. Giving life is something that objectively sets the mother apart from the culture of alienation, exclusion and war, while giving life means giving strength to a transition (migration) dreamed of and sought after by many women and men towards a culture of life, non-violence and universal peace. The emergence of female culture, the “giving of life”, dreaming a world in which “The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper's nest.” (the prophesy of Isaiah 11:1-10), the affirmation of female subjectivity in every part of society, are our greatest resource. Peace is a woman.

The Comunità dell’Isolotto

Christmas 2006

(Thanks to Donald Bathgate for the translation)
Found here

posted by: Whitebeard at 09:15 | link | comments |
italy, peace

Friday, December 22, 2006

“I love life, Mr. President,” Mr. Welby, 60, who has battled muscular dystrophy for 40 years, wrote to Italy’s president, Giorgio Napolitano, in September. “Life is the woman who loves you, the wind through your hair, the sun on your face, an evening stroll with a friend.

Follow here

posted by: Whitebeard at 23:23 | link | comments |

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Italiano - non mi sento obbligato a credere che lo stesso Dio che ci ha dotato di sensi, ragione e intelletto, pretenda che non li utilizziamo
Albanese - nuk ndihem i detyruar të besoj se vetë Zoti që na ka dhënë shqisat, arësyen dhe zgjuarsinë, pretendon që të mos i përdorim
Aragonese - no me siento obligato a creyer que ro mesmo Dios que nos adotó sentitos, ragón y esmo pretenda que no ros empleguemos
Asturiano - nun me siento obligáu a creer que'l mesmu Dios que nos dotó de sentíos, razón ya intelectu pretenda que nun los utilicemos
Basco - ez naiz behartuta sentitzen, zentzumenak, arrazoia eta adimena eman zigun Jainko berberak erabil ez ditzugan nahi duela sinestera
Bolognese - a n um sént brîSa ublighè ed cràdder che cal Dío ch'al s à dè i séns, al giudézzi e al capéss, al pretannda pò ch'a n i druvâmen brîSa
Bresciano - so ubligat a creder che Dio, che el m'a dat i sensi, la resù e el co, el volès che i dopres mja
Bretone - ne gav ket din ez eo ret krediñ ez eo mennozh an hevelep Doue hag en deus hon donezonet gant ar skiant, gant ar poell ha gant ar spered, ec'h ankounac'hafemp penaos ober ganto
Calabrese - nun mi sientu obbligatu a credi ca lu stessu Dio ca n'ha datu sensi, raggiuni e 'ntellettu, pritenni ca nun li usamu
Catalano - no em sento obligat a creure que Déu mateix, que ens va dotar de sentits, raó i intel·lecte, pretengui que no els utilitzem
Croato - ne osjecam se obveznim vjerovati da je isti Bog koji nas je opremio osjecajem, razumom i intelektom želio da se time zaboravimo služiti
Danese - jeg føler mig ikke forpligtet til at tro, at den samme Gud, der har givet os fornuft, forstand og intellekt, ikke mente, at vi skulle gøre brug af disse egenskaber
Esperanto - mi ne min sentas devigita kredi ke sama Dio kiu havigis sensojn, racion kaj intelekton al ni intencis ke ni forgesu uzi ilin
Estone - ma ei tunne end kohustatud olevat uskuma, et samal Jumalal, kes on õnnistanud meid tunnete ja intellektiga, oleks meiega see plaan olnud, et me neid omadusi kasutada unustaksime
Fiammingo - ik voel mij niet geroepen om te geloven dat de God die ons begiftigd heeft met rede, gezond verstand en intellect, ons heeft voorbestemd om die niet te gebruiken
Finlandese - en tunne olevani velvollinen uskomaan että sama Jumala, joka on antanut meille aistit, järjen ja ymmärryksen, ei haluaisi meidän käyttävän niitä
Friulano - no mi sint costret a crodi che il stess Diu che nus à dât i sens, reson e intelet, al pratindi che no ju doprin
Galiziano - non me sinto obrigado a crer que o mesmo Deus que nos dotou de sentidos, razón e intelecto pretenda que non os empreguemos
Gallese - ni theimlaf ei bod yn rhaid credu mai bwriad yr un Duw ag a'n cynysgaeddodd â synnwyr, â rheswm ac â deallusrwydd, yw inni anghofio sut i'w defnyddio
Giudeo Spagnolo - no me siento ovligado a kreyer ke el mizmo Dio ke mos doto de sentidos, razon i sehel pretenda ke no los utilizemos
Griko Salentino - en ime obligào na pistèzzo ti o Teò ka mas èdiche tu ssenzu, ti rragiùna ce to noìsi, tèli ka en è nna dòlumesta
Inglese - I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with sense, reason, and intellect has intended us to forget their use
Italiano - non mi sento obbligato a credere che lo stesso Dio che ci ha dotato di sensi, ragione e intelletto, pretenda che non li utilizziamo
Latino - non sentio mhi credendum esse ipsum deum qui in nobis sensum rationemque posuit nos usum oblivisci voluisse
Latvian - negribu ticet, ka tas pats Dievs, kurš apveltija mus ar apzinu, sapratu un intelektu, ir paredzejis, ka mes aizmirsisim tos pielietot
Leonese - nun me sientu obligáu a pensare que'l mesmu Dious que nos dotóu de sensu, razón ya inteleutu quiera que nun los empleguemos
Limburghese - ich kan lêstig geleeve dat God èn den hiemel os hiëse, rië ên verstand hèt gegaeve, ên tegeleik hèt gewild dat ve daaj nie zooë gebreike
Lombardo - se senti minga obligaa a cred che quell Signor che'l m'ha daa bon sens e reson el voeubbia che nun je doperom nò
Mantovano - a n'am senti obligà a credar che 'l stes Signor ch'al sà dat i sensi, la ragion e l'inteligensa, al pretenda po dopo ch'a i a na dropema mia
Mapunzugun - rüf gageniegelan ñi feyentuael feyti dios tayin eluetew ta logko, rakizuam ka kimün fewla tayin pünenuafiel
Modenese - an m'sèint mènga ublighê a cràdder che ch'al Dio ch'al s'ha regalê i sèins, al capèss e l'inteligèinza al pretànda pò ch'àn'i druvàmma mènga
Napoletano - nun me sento ubbrecato a crerere c' 'o stesso Ddio ca ce ha dutato 'e senze, raggione e gnegnero, pretenne che nun ll'ausammo
Occitano - me sentisse pas oblijat de creire que lo meteis dieu que nos dotèt de sens, rason e intellècte pretenda que los utilizam pas
Olandese - ik voel me niet gedrongen aan te nemen dat dezelfde god die ons heeft begiftigd met gevoel, rede en intellect, de bedoeling had dat we deze niet zouden gebruiken
Papiamento - mi no ta sintími obligá pa kere ku e mes Dios ku a dunanos sintí, rason i intelekto, por pretendé pa nos lubidá nan uso
Parmigiano - an me sent miga costrett a credor che col medesim Sgnor ch'al sa doné i sens, la razón e la inteligensa, al pretenda che laséma lí d'utilizaria
Piemontese - i më sent nen obligà à chërde che 'l midem De ch'a l'ha da-ne ij sens, la rason e l'inteligensa a veula peu' ch'i-j dòvro nen
Polacco - nie czuje sie zobowiazany do wiary, ze ten sam Bóg, który wyposazyl nas w rozwage, rozsadek i rozum, chce bysmy z nich nie korzystali
Portoghese - não me sinto obrigado a acreditar que o mesmo Deus que nos dotou de sentidos, razão e intelecto pretenda que não os utilizemos
Portoghese Brasiliano - não me sinto obrigado a acreditar que o mesmo Deus que nos dotou de sentidos, razão e intelecto pretenda que não os utilizemos
Reggiano - am sèint mia oblighèe a crèder che al stèss Dio ch'al s'à dee i sintimèint e al zrvèll al pertènda pò che an ni drovòma mia
Sardo - no m'intendo obrigadu a creer chi Deus matessi, chi nos at dadu sentidu, resone e mente, pretendat chi no los impreemus
Spagnolo - no me siento obligado a creer que el mismo dios que nos dotó de sentidos, razón e intelecto pretenda que no los utilicemos
Svedese - jag känner mig inte förpliktad att tro att samma Gud som försett oss med sinnen, förnuft och fattningsförmåga, inte menade att vi skulle göra bruk av dem
Swahili - sifikiri inanilazimu kuamini kwamba yule Mungu anayetujalia uelewa, hisia na akili ndiye anayekusudia tusizitumie
Tedesco - ich fühle mich nicht verpflichtet zu glauben, dass der selbe Gott, der uns Verstand, Vernunft und Intellekt gegeben hat, verlangt, diese Gaben nicht zu benutzen
Ungherese - nem tartom kötelességemnek azt hinni, hogy ugyanaz az Isten, aki érzékeléssel, értelemmel és intellektussal ruházott fel bennünket azt akarná, hogy azokat ne használjuk
Veneziano - no me sénto mìa obligà a pensar che propio Dio, che 'l ne ga dà i sensi, la raxon e 'l servelo, po' el pretenda che no li doparémo

posted by: Whitebeard at 12:41 | link | comments |

 
Italian man sparks euthanasia row
An Italian court has adjourned to decide whether to allow a terminally ill man to die, in a landmark case.
The man, Piergiorgio Welby, has muscular dystrophy and is paralysed. He wants doctors to be allowed to turn off his artificial respirator.

The high-profile case has sparked fierce debate in mostly-Roman Catholic Italy, where euthanasia is illegal and the Church forbids it.

The judge is expected to deliver her verdict within a week.

'Prolonging life'

Mr Welby is confined to bed, is fed through a tube and speaks through a computer that reads his eye movements. He appealed to President Giorgio Napolitano in October for euthanasia to be legalised so that he could then request it. He wants his artificial respirator turned off and to be given sedatives to ease his pain until he dies. The case hinges on whether Mr Welby is being forcibly administered life-sustaining medical treatment - which is against Italy's constitution. Prosecutors told the court on Monday that Mr Welby had the right to have the respirator turned off, but that doctors also had the right to turn the machine back on if he was suffering. "The problem in this case is to know if we are really faced with a case of prolonging life by artificial means," Javier Lozano Barragan, president of the Vatican's pontifical health council, told La Repubblica newspaper. Prime Minister Romano Prodi's centre-left government is divided over the issue. His coalition includes Catholics as well as socialists, who have come out strongly in favour of Mr Welby's right to refuse treatment. The centre-right opposition is against switching off Mr Welby's respirator. Euthanasia and doctor-assisted suicide have been legalised in the Netherlands, Belgium, Switzerland, but remain illegal in much of the rest of the world.

Story from BBC NEWS:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/go/pr/fr/-/2/hi/europe/6174603.stm

Published: 2006/12/13 01:23:57 GMT © BBC MMVI

posted by: Whitebeard at 12:18 | link | comments |

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Women of America
BUSH MUST GO!
IF WAR CRIMES, TORTURE, AND CRIMES AGAINST HUMANITY ARE NOT REASON TO IMPEACH, WHAT IS?
As Congress ended Friday, Representative Cynthia McKinney introduced an impeachment bill crafted around the contention that George Bush is guilty of war crimes and crimes against humanity. Ms McKinney deserves all of our support for being a persistent foe of the Bush regime-- a singular voice in Congress and someone who sticks to her principles.
Days earlier, McKinney spoke at the World Can’t Wait teach-in at George Washington University. An excerpt:

Never before in the history of our country have the crimes of an Administration been so blatant and so clear.

The way to end this war is to remove our money and our troops from Iraq!  Not by a draft that feeds the war machine.

And the way to end this Administration is with an impeachment bill. 

According to a non-partisan national poll, 50% of Americans agree with the following statement:

"If President Bush did not tell the truth about his reasons for going to war with Iraq, Congress should consider holding him accountable by impeaching him."

Los Angeles: Dressed like a Guantánamo detainee, I've been riding buses and sitting quietly on bus benches hoping to raise the question whether this image should now be considered an ordinary part of American life. At one stop, when my bus didn't come, I decided to walk. Within a few blocks, a patrol car pulled up, lights flashing. The officer got out and questioned me. He said it was OK to keep my wrists bound, but he ordered me to remove the hood. "Otherwise people will be calling in. They're gonna think you're a hostage." Precisely.

Chicago: Attorney H. Candace Gorman, who is defending two Guantanamo detainees, wearing the orange jumpsuit on Dec. 10. She writes about Guantanamo detainees at: http://gtmoblog.blogspot.com/

Debra Sweet with a pal.
American people!

What is it then? Why, why do you resist?
Why does your heart host so much cowardice?
Where are your daring and your openness  123
  as long as there are three such blessed women
concerned for you within the court of Heaven
and my words promise you so great a good?"  126
  As little flowers, which the chill of night
has bent and huddled, when the white sun strikes,
grow straight and open fully on their stems,  129
  so did I, too, with my exhausted force;
and such warm daring rushed into my heart
that I-as one who has been freed-began:  132
  "O she, compassionate, who has helped me!
And you who, courteous, obeyed so quickly
the true words that she had addressed to you!  135
  You, with your words, have so disposed my heart
to longing for this journey - I return
to what I was at first prepared to do.  138
  Now go; a single will fills both of us:
you are my guide, my governor, my master".
These were my words to him; when he advanced,  141
  I entered on the steep and savage path. 

Dante, Inferno, Canto 02 See here

 

posted by: Whitebeard at 19:05 | link | comments |

Norimberga Nürnberg
  


Impeach the President is a comprehensive analysis of a criminal administration. It unearths the stories behind voter fraud in 2000 and 2004, the overt lies used to justify pre-emptive war on Iraq, the extensive, ongoing commission of war crimes and torture, the tragic failures in the lead-up to and aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, and lesser-known but equally alarming offences of propaganda and disinformation, illegal spying, environmental destruction, and the violation of the separation of church and state. Loo and Phillips chillingly reveal the full threat behind the radical right-wing force that has taken over the most powerful office in the world.

Here


121 The light in which the treasure I had found
          Kept smiling started to flash out at first,
          Just like a golden mirror in the sun;
 
          Then he replied, "A conscience overclouded
125     Either with its own or others’ shame
          Will certainly feel that your speech is harsh.
 
          "But nonetheless — all falsehood set aside —
          Show plainly everything that you have seen:
129        Then let them scratch wherever it may itch!

Here

posted by: Whitebeard at 17:17 | link | comments |
iraq, war, torture, censored news

For your kids.  Open the envelope with mouse.

Christmas-card


 

For you

Go on :................................      http://www.star28.net/snow.html <http://www.star28.net/snow.html>

1. write a wish
2. Clik Submit 

posted by: Whitebeard at 15:27 | link | comments |

Monday, December 11, 2006

 
CHAPTER V
 
THE CASTLES OF THE WESTERN VALLEYS
 
"What I love best in all the world
15 a castle precipice encurled,
In a gash of the wind-grieved Apennine."
 
BORGO ALLA COLLINA, through which the high road from the Casentino over the Consuma passes, is delightfully situated on a low ridge between the plain of the Arno and the entrance to a deep valley which runs far back into the western hills and is watered by the Solano, a tributary of the Arno. Borgo was once a " castello" like its neighbours. The great vaulted portal which bestrides the road and gives beneath its black shadow a glimpse of the flagged street and porticoed houses beyond is a survival from medioeval days, and the weather-beaten old building above is still called the palace, though it has lost all its grandeur. The place was used by the Counts as a pleasure-house or hunting lodge, but it was the chief  castle of the Contessa Elisabetta di Battifolle at the end of the fourteenth century, and underwent then some perilous vicissitudes, being besieged and taken by Count Roberto Novello of Poppi, who, as we have seen, carried his cousin a prisoner to' his castle. After she had been released and her castle restored to her by the intervention of Florence, she had still to be on her guard against her cruel kinsman, who now sought to kill her by subtlety, so that she hardly dared stir out of her stronghold. One day when she ventured forth to the chase in the forest which then spread all round Borgo she was assailed by a shower of arrows which actual1y pierced her garments, but thanks to the speed of her good horse she succeeded in escaping. This feud between these two dose neighbours and kinsfolk brought misery on the country round. Elisabetta's husband, Giovanni Gabrielli, a soldier of fortune, revenged her wrongs by sacking the Count of Poppi's lands and carrying off much spoil. But in the end Elisabetta was compelled by the continued persecutions of her cousin to abandon her castle to the care of Florence and retreat to the city, where she lived in a palace granted her by the Republic, in company with another refugee, the Contessa Caterina, widow of one of the later Counts of Romena. This lady and her children had been cruelly used by the Conti Guidi of Bagno, who had burnt their castle of Montegranelli in the Romagna and  made them prisoners, and after they had been once rescued, had again tried to seize them, and had only been prevented by the intervention of Florence. There is a legend that this lady, after many 3.dventures, had been miraculously delivered out of their hands by the archangel Raphael. This throws light on an interesting old altar-piece, now hanging in the choir of the big new church at Borgo, whence it was removed from the old parish church near the gate.
The picture, which has been very badly used by a would-be restorer, depicts the marriage of St. Catherine, with saints grouped on either side; the figures, graceful and decorative in arrangement, are of the small-headed, long and slender type with which one is familiar in the works of some of the primitive Tuscans. Among the quaint representations in the predella beneath there is a little scene of an angel leading forth a cloaked figure from a gateway. This can be no other than the Contessa Caterina being delivered from captivity by the angel Raphael. The picture bears the inscription:
Domina Comitissa Elisabeth de Battifolle MCCCXXIII. die primo Augusti, and there can be little doubt I think that it was a thank-offering from Elisabetta for the safety of her friend and kinswoman. The date is an obvious mistake for 1423, at which time the donor was living, and not a hundred years earlier; the style of the work also shows it to belong to the later period. One of the numerals may perhaps have been dropped out at some restoration.           
After Borgo had fallen into the possession of Florence, the palace was conferred upon one of the secretaries of the Republic, Cristoforo Landino, who had been a tutor of Lorenzo de' Medici, and was a member of the famous Medicean circle of humanists and philosophers. He is best known as the author of a commentary on the Divina Commedia. Cristoforo belonged to an ancient Casentinese family, and Borgo was his native place. His body, unconsumed by time, lies in the church. By a strange irony it was long regarded by the simple villagers with great reyerence as the miraculously preserved remains of a saint, till one day a learned tourist, the Frenchman Ampère, intent on the traces of Dante, came along and read the inscription upon the tomb, and joined the mummy once again to the memory of its rightful owner, the platonic philosopher. He tells the story in his Voyage Dantesque, adding that as he went away he could not help smiling at such an unexpected and symbolical meeting: “Everywhere, in the character of the places, in the memories, I had found the spirit of Dante living still, and here I found the corpse of his. commentator. "
Borgo alla Collina is a delightful place to stop in. There is a comfortable pension in the village, with rooms opening on to a terrace, commanding an incom­parable view of the Valley.(1) (1) This house, belonging to Padre Fabbri, is very convenient for either a short or a long stay. The needs of English visitors are thoroughly understood. Italian is always spoken, but English is forthcoming for those who do not know the language of the country.
 Here you may sit all day satisfied, while before your eyes the wonderful drama of sun and shadow is played out over the historic scenes around. You may see the diverse effects upon the spectral towers of. Romena to the left, arid upon gracious Poppi to the right; watch the day quicken and the night fall over the contemplative Rock in the east, and observe the swift changing moods of lofty Falterona to the north, and the great ranges that radiate from it. All day and all night the song of the Arno rises from the fields below. The hill upon which the village is set is bathed by both streams, the Arno on one side, the Solano on the other, and the pleasant slopes, clothed with vineyards, run down to idyllic green places beside the water, whither the children lead the sheep to pasture and the great white oxen come down to drink, stepping between the slender stems of the poplars on the bank. Here in the hot summer days the air is cooled by the breath of the rippling water which has issued so lately from the high ravines. On the opposite side of the Solano the chestnut woods begin, rising up to the little mountain chapel of Filetto and spreading away for miles, a shady wilderness in which to hide from what Petrarch calls "the celestial ardour of the Lion." Here indeed may be tested all those mountain delights which the poet long ago would fain have shared with Count Roberto of Battifolle.
Just beyond Borgo a tall wooden cross stands where four roads meet. Here, in an open space looking down on either valley, a fair is held twice a year. The road to the left plunges down into the valley of the Solano, which pierces like a gulf into the deep misty folds of the western hills. Below in its depths lies the little town of Strada, and upon the mountain side above hangs Castel San Niccolò with its gloomy tower and keep. This castle was in the fourteenth century the strong­hold of the fierce Ghibellines Guglielmo Spadalunga and his son Galeotto Novello, who spent their energies in preying upon their kinsmen of the Guelf party. Galeotto made himself so odious to his people by his cruelty and licentiousness that they rebelled against him and drove him out of the castle and surrendered it to Florence. The Count was put under the ban of the Republic, which took possession of his domains and constituted them into a Commune called the Montagna Fiorentina, of which San Niccolò was the chief place. In 1440 the castle suffered a terrible siege from Count Francesco of Poppi and the Milanese, who, after it had resisted for thirty-two days, took it by storm, and revenged themselves cruelly on the defenders, crushing them to death with missiles hurled from catapults as they strove to escape, and hanging all that felt into their hands. Count Francesco slew with his own hand an old woman, the sole creature found still alive and still defiant in the innermost keep, when at last he and his soldiers broke in. When Florence reconquered the Valley and final1y swept away the Guidi, San Niccolò was dismantled, with the other mountain strongholds, which could now serve no purpose but to harbour rebels or robbers.
Strada, or Vado as the village below was some­times called, there being a ford here, consisted once only of the church and a few poor dwellings of peasants. It is now a populous little town, extending some way along the left bank of the Solano. The old Pieve, like the church at Stia, is encrusted with the additions of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and dis­figured by side altars and tawdry ornamentation, but it has not been altered structurally, and the nave is com­plete with its seven bays and has a fine effect of length. The pillars are lower and smaller than those of Romena, and their loftiness is also lessened by the floor being raised and hiding the bases. They have the same kind of capitals as in the other churches, volutes and stiff flat acanthus leaves, ram's heads, and a marvellous assemblage of strange and monstrous figures, among which may be noted a rude representation of Christ and St. Thomas; on another column there is a hunting scene, showing a delightfully quaint little horseman on one face of the capital, and a lion on the next, symbolic of the soul warring against evil.
      But interesting as are these fantastic symbols of faith and dogma carved upon the columns, the most devout decoration, if one may so call it, is lent by the living figures to be seen in all these churches, the bowed heads of old men or simple shawled forms of women that kneel motionless beside the great pillars, and in the perfect unconscious grace of their attitude are outward signs of that meek and suppliant spirit with­ out which no temple built with hands has its true significance.
The castle steep rises abruptly on the other side of the Solano, opposite the town.
You cross the swift-running stream by a picturesque bridge and ascend a zigzag mule path cut in the rock. No place in the Casentino gives a better impression o a feudal strong­hold than San Niccolò. The arched gateway flanked by a bell tower, the steep flagged path, the primitive stone hovels with their dark and cavernous interiors, the little piazza, the ruined chapel with noble frescoed figures of saints fading on the walls inside, the old Palazzo di Ragione, or justice hall, plastered outside with mouldering stone shields, and used now as a stable far sheep, the Keep crowning the rock above with its walls and gateways and massive tower, all these things have suffered little change in five centuries, save the effects of time and weather. The ancient hags with eldritch locks, grasping distaffs, the children in many-coloured rags that swarm around the visitor differ hardly more from the serfs that peopled it in the days of the Guidi. Only a long sleep has fallen upon the place. Between the outer and inner ramparts of the castle vines now grow and make a border of delicate green beneath the rusted wall, and all down the steep which falls away on every side, where the fierce masnadieri once swarmed up with fire and sword, the grapes grow slowly purple undisturbed upon the scanty vines. Nothing comes to break the quiet except the storms which sweep down through the curtain of chestnut forest behind from the high ridges of the Pratomagno.
The castle is entered through a portal beneath lofty walls which show remains of noble Gothic windows, and a steep path leads up through another gateway into the courtyard. There is a picturesque fountain here, and beneath is the old cistern of the castle. Some stone escutcheons of the Florentine castellans who succeeded the Guidi are on the walls. The great tower rises on one side, and its ruined chambers may be reached and entered by a perilous ladder which the custodian of the castle sets up for the visitor. In one of the inhabited rooms below there is a fine sixteenth century chimney-piece. For the rest, the dwelling of the formidable William Longsword and the dissolute Galeotto is roofless, desolate and silent.
The road from Strada up the Valley follows the green poplar-edged banks of the Solano, passing through the adjacent village of Prato di Strada to the picturesque little hamlet of Rifiglio clustered beneath the hill. Here it divide s, and one branch follows up a side valley on the right beside the torrent of the Rifiglio, passing the idyl1ic mountain village of Caiano, where the women sit and spin on their doorsteps in the sunshine, and climbs up to the moory wastes of the Consuma, inhabited only by hawks and roamed over by scanty flocks of sheep, where it joins the solitary high road between the Casentino and Florence. The other branch of the road keeps on along the banks of the Solano and passes beneath a great mountain rampart which thrusts itself forward into the deep gorge of the stream. This is the hill of Battifolle, and upon its verge, suspended over the abyss, stood the castle of that name, which signifies literal1y a rampart. Nothing remains now of the mighty masonry with which the Guidi built up this natural stronghold, except a green mound entombing the ruins, upon which trees grow and sheep nibble. But it is well worth while to climb the winding path from below, or to take the longer way through the woods from Ponte a Caiano, if only for the sensation of standing on that great height and tasting the wonderful peace and aloofness of it in this quiet evening of its life. Moreover, one is perhaps following in the footsteps of San Francesco, who is said to have mounted up here once when journeying across the mountains from Florence to La Verna, and during his stay in the castle to have restored sight' to a blind man. I remember when we' were there how a full-voiced peasant .woman from the little homestead which stands, on the top of the hill led us to an ancient well of very pure water, which springs beneath a ruined stone vault, the only relic of the old castle. She told us that the spring is perennial, and never sinks below the same level even in the hottest summer. Bending down, she filled a great copper vessel which she had brought with her. We paused there Upon the verge of the hill and looked down into the depth, seeking the far-off glint of the stream. The afternoon was hot and dreamy, and shadow already filled the gorges. From the misty ridges of the Pratomagno on our right range upon range of hills coursed steeply down into the shadowy valley beneath us. Riding among their multitudinous waves yet another castle was in sight, Montemignaio, set still further back in the mountains. And far away in the south-east, where all the light from the western sky now fell, the distant hills beyond the main Valley appeared transfigured, like shapes of rosy flame. In their midst rose the Rock of La Verna, the most conspicuous point in the horizon still, as long ago for the ferocious Simone di Battifolle. Strange that there is hardly a fastness in the Casentino, set however far back in the mountains, to which that Eye does not pierce, hardly a cavern in which the rash and angry souls might hide themselves from that reminder of peace, of the Cross, of Heaven.
Upon the mountain side further up the gorge of the Solano lies Cetica, to be reached by climbing up from the picturesque village of Pagliericcio, past the quainter and still more primitive Pratoluttoli, with its narrow street of irregular, blackened dwellings, and proceeding onwards for miles through enchanting chestnut woods. Cetica, which was once a possession of the Guidi, has three churches and separate villages ­San Pancrazio, Sta. Maria and San Michele Archangelo. Sta. Maria contains an early Tuscan triptych, a Madonna and Saints upon a gold background, and San Michele has a real treasure in a small fifteenth century picture of the Madonna and Child, of a good school, but sadly damaged by the flames of the candles on the altar. The Virgin has a face of unusual type. Far above, upon the lofty side of the Pratomagno, just beyond the point where the chestnut trees, growing fewer and scantier, cease, and the slopes become rocky and sterile, is the Bagno di Cetica, whither the peasants come in the summer season from far and near for the sake of the healing virtue of its water. The properties of these springs were known in very remote times, but the simple folk attribute them to San Romolo, who is said to have bathed here when he was passing one day. Ascending still higher, the traveller reaches at last the top of the Pratomagno, and by a pass called the Varco della Madonna, may, if he will, emerge out of the Valley Enclosed and descend on the other side into the Val d'Arno.
 Montemignaio, the most inaccessible of all the castles of the Casentino, is built upon a height over­-hanging the Scheggia, a stream which comes down from the Consuma and joins the Solano at Pagliericcio, whence there is a mule path leading to it along the hillside above the Scheggia. There is also a road practicable for vehicles, but very roundabout. lt turns off from the high road over the Consuma about a mile before reaching the village of that name and follows a mountain stream across wild, moorlands, gradually descending into a narrow valley hung with chestnut woods. At the bottom a little torrent flows down from a rocky ravine on the right, and just where it falls into the larger stream there stands a lonely church, called the Madonna delle Calle.'1 Calle are the big white Madonna lilies.
 In a sort of rock­dwelling adjoining it there lives a hermit, who takes care of the church. Nothing could be more appropriate than to come across such a being in this solitude of forest and stream. The hermit is never seen, unless it be sometimes at dusk, when you may chance to see, creeping along the road, a strange black figure in garments of a shape belonging to some past age, stooping beneath a sack, and will be told that it is the romitino, who is going round gathering scraps from the pious. And occasionally it may happen that persons hiding from justice in the mountains will beat at the door of his cell and compel him to give them food. He had a celebrated predecessor here in the eighteenth century, a certain wealthy Count who abandoned family and possessions, and hid himself for forty-two years in this wilderness, living in the utmost austerity and revealing his identity to no one until the day of his death.
A little way beyond the church the clustered buildings and tall tower of Montemignaio suddenly appear above, against the sky, and mounting between the chestnut trees, you reach the castle hill and look down over sweeping woods into another valley, with several little hamlets hanging on the slopes and forming quite a community hidden away here in these Alpine recesses. The Pieve stands some little way down the hill, below the Castle. It has been well restored quite lately, and the exterior is almost entirely new. Within it is of the same simple and impressive
form as the other Matilda churches, but the pillars of the lower half are square, and are covered with fade_ frescoes of a much later date than the building,
charming enough in effect, but quite poor in them­selves. The capitals of the round pillars are of the characteristic type, only less elaborate than in the sister churches, and if possible ruder and more grotesque. The High Altar is supported on little columns, which have capitals sculptured in low relief with devices characteristic of the Romanesque period, and there is an ancient semi-circular font against the wall, within a high niche bordered with sculptured designs. A rather poor terra-cotta piece of the late Della Robbia school -a Madonna and Child with SS. Anthony and Sebastian, and a predella showing the Entombment and St. Francis receiving the Stigmata- has lately been removed into the church from the wayside shrine which it originally occupied.   
The Castle, which used to be called Castiglione, that is, Castle of the Lion, was part of the inheritance of Guido Novello and his fierce progeny Guglielmo Spadalunga and the rest. It was united to the Commune of the Montagna Fiorentina in 1440. The great tower and a lofty fragment of the old wall of the keep stand up still amid the huddle of rude stone houses around. What remains of the old cortile and palace is now inhabited by peasants and is scarcely recognisable. You may glance through a low portico and an open door into some dark-beamed, oak-panelled chamber, where an ancient hag will probably be preparing polenta of chestnut meal for the family, or catch a glimpse of another kitchen, in which a carved stone cinquecento chimneypiece frames the blackened cauldron and the poor fire of sticks. There is the usual cistern beneath the court, and another subterranean reservoir connected with the castle exists in perfect preservation under the recently built office of the Municipality. It is a vast vaulted stone chamber, with walls thirteen feet thick and supported by a great pillar in the midst. In the old days the moat could be supplied from it.
But now moat, ramparts and outworks are all gone. It is with idle menace that the broken stronghold stands out over the gorge above the tremendous plunge of the precipice and looks down over the great knees of the hills to the spur where Battifolle, once the lair of hated kinsmen, is marked now by a green mound only. And far away beyond the opening of the Valley, lifted upon those visionary mountains of the afternoon, La Verna appears again, couched in the eastern sky, as in those long past centuries when it lay waiting patiently, while the eagles preyed upon each other, for the appointed moment when it should send forth its voice into the valleys.

posted by: Whitebeard at 23:25 | link | comments |
dante, noyes, casentino

Saturday, December 09, 2006

December 10th is Human Rights Day.

Click on the image.

posted by: Whitebeard at 18:58 | link | comments |
civil rights, torture, censored news, nineleven

Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Sunday, December 10 & 11 make a stand against the U.S. legalization of torture in through theMilitary Commission s Act.  Spend the whole day wearing what Guantanamo detainees have to wear everyday.  Dress in the orange jumpsuit.  Wear it to school.  Wear it to work.  Wear it to church or religious services.
Write about your experience or send pictures and video of what it was like to dress as a Guantanamo detainee for a day.
Why I'm taking part: I want to part of this solution, and if a girl wearing an orange jumpsuit helps make people realize bad shit is happening in the world, then I would love to do it! The world needs to wake up! (at least ignorant Americans!)" San Jose, CA
To the World Can’t Wait Community,
Why Everything the Bush Administration is Doing Is STILL Intolerable and Must Be Stopped
Monday, December 4 at George Washington University
A timely forum sponsored by The World Can’t Wait – Drive Out the Bush Regime, the Bush Crimes Commission, and the GWU Progressive Student Union featuring speakers:
Christopher Hedges - A journalist, theologian and author, who spent nearly two decades as a foreign correspondent for the New York Times, winning a Pulitzer Prize. Currently Lecturer in the Council of the Humanities, Princeton University. Author of "War Is a Force that Gives Us Meaning" and upcoming book "American Fascism."
Ray McGovern - A retired 27-year veteran of the CIA, Ray is a co-founder of Veteran Intelligence Professionals for Sanity. He will address the lies behind the war on Iraq, the dangers of war on Iran, and the true history of Secretary of Defense designate Robert Gates.
Rep. Cynthia McKinney - First African-American Congresswoman from Georgia and unstinting critic of the Bush administration policies, including the administration response to the fully predictable consequences of Hurricane Katrina.
Debra Sweet - National Coordinator of World Can't Wait - Drive Out the Bush Regime and organizer of the nationwide anti-Bush actions of October 5.
The electoral defeat of the Republican majority in Congress revealed both the wide spread revulsion against the Bush Administration and the Iraq War . . .  and, at the same time, the real danger that this will be quickly repackaged into tactical shifts in how the Iraq War is fought, betraying the people’s desire to end the war.
This is because the foundational elements and direction of the Bush program are either openly promoted, or left unspoken and untouched by the new Democratic Congressional leadership. This includes how it has carried out its whole program under the rubric of the War on Terror, the qualitative changes concerning civil liberties (including legitimizing torture, the Orwellian enemy combatant category, and the beginning elimination of habeas corpus), the abandonment of New Orleans, and the whole theocratic assault on abortion, homosexuality, science, and critical thought.
If ever there was a need for people to really understand deeply – and soon – the reality of the Bush program that we still confront, it is now, when wishful thinking is rampant.
Be part of this urgent discussion Monday evening,
December 4, 7:30 pm
Funger Hall, Room 108, 2201 G Street NW, George Washington University
Metro: Foggy Bottom stop on the Orange and Blue lines

For more information call 202-536-4313
January - March:
100 Teach-Ins Across America:
THE BUSH AGENDA – Understanding it. Stopping It.
Teach-ins being organized by World Can't Wait - Drive Out the Bush Regime on college campuses across the country this Spring.  Click here for more information and to organize teach-ins in your area.
 

posted by: Whitebeard at 15:02 | link | comments |
civil rights, war, torture, censored news, nineleven

Sunday, December 03, 2006

"If history is to be creative, to anticipate a possible future without denying the past, it should, I believe, emphasize new possibilities by disclosing those hidden episodes of the past when, even if in brief flashes, people showed their ability to resist, to join together, and occasionally win. I am supposing, or perhaps only hoping, that our future may be found in the past's fugitive moments of compassion *** rather than in its solid centuries of warfare."
Here and here

***Compassion is a sense of shared suffering, most often combined with a desire to alleviate or reduce such suffering; to show special kindness to those who suffer. Thus compassion is essentially empathy, though with a more active slant in that the compassionate person will seek to actually aid those they feel compassionate.


 

posted by: Whitebeard at 22:44 | link | comments |
us, censored news

 

About me

User: Whitebeard
Name: Urbano Cipriani
A retired teacher of history and litterature.

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