And remember like yesterday the usual story. A dog tied to a wagon. The dog has two choices: follow the harmonious movement of the wagon or resist. The road ahead will be the same in both cases, but if you are adapting gait of the wagon, the ride will be smooth. If, on the contrary, resists, our
pace will be tortuous, because we will be dragged from the wagon against our will. Now I understand what the hell they meant reams of false morality and ethics of the Stoics. Now I was able to outline and centuries of a word emptied of its original meaning as bloody. Stoic. Three times. No hump, not a roar, and even a baby tooth. Dog, wagon and Corda. The dog who was convinced that he can only live two lives, one of the pet and the servile dell'illuso rebel. The wagon that he believes to decide where to take the rest, it still lives on the own life, the same worn-out grooves of the road, along the same route. A route to its nature, circular. And finally the last caste, Corda. Linked to the cart, but that tightens its noose around the neck of the dog which is believed to still be free to choose. The rope did not crawl in the mud to remain tight and choke, wear out the dog, the rope will never be broken and will always be linked. The system demands it, when un0 is in the first world, we are left, it matters little what happens in the third. So where is Stoicism? And 'an invention of the rope, which is appreciated by the Chariot and then made flag by the dog. All translated into harmony between the classes, serenity between roles. Many experience feelings of devotion to the life of the Dog, but it is pathetic because they do not even try to touch a fiber of his body in the street. And a rope, he will never Cane. In their own world, each with its non-choices. The roles are always respected. The Chariot is the more curious after all, is convinced that he all before the eyes, but when you lose a world behind. 
shrubs found hanged peers. He looks in my face one by one. Do not cry, not afraid. The men fear women as she did not. Some people have fear of fear itself (cit), but I fear the words of a Mason. It 's too easy to cry before death, Tina has seen comrades killed, tortured friends. It was the relay. It's been years and years, taught by a woman, mother Helen. He brought Italians, but what is striking is not when a mother gives birth but when he warns, often strikes when you appreciate the consciousness of children. And the arrival of the story that I like. Tina Anselmi fought Licio Gelli. The first woman minister, upsetting. Some poor children were placed in the hands of a mother. Maybe mistakes were made, maybe not a few mistakes were made. But I put myself in the shoes of a whore like Italy. Before we are raped, but later paid. Then it works, we end the war and then boom. Smile, as if Planck went to dinner a laborer Lucan did not want a system, but once we get Planck's not a chair? I digress. Tina, chased the Fascists for breakfast, welcomed the American Masons in response to lunch, it was realized that we had not invited anybody, but the table was too short to refuse. Dinner is ready, but the boys are all prepared in punishment and adults eat the camera. The project is in place. We are Democrats, and unfortunately we are born again, tell that to a mother. I wanted to finish with a few words to the effect of fear, but Roosevelt clashes with Tina. America is always the same story. There is always someone with a wall to paint, who just a small space, who needs something big and then there's the America that wallpaper for all. But I do not have one with Tina, a single woman who has stood up to so many men these days ago tenderness. A woman with balls these days makes you smile. 
