Monday, January 31, 2011

Poptropicafor Playstation

THINKING ABOUT THE WAY 2011







MRLN 2010 ended the hard singing on the birthday of Agnes and partner and is preparing to organize the task after 2011.
With the decision to continue supporting the Project Fellow South Pino Solanas met on 30/01 / en Unquillo to organize our annual meeting.
The basic question for the internal debate is focused on How do we strengthen in the popular field of awareness of people's power on the model that embodies today emancipatory Pino Solanas and sums MRLN goals?

The meeting to discuss and strengthen the militants will be out of 25, 26 and 27 February in Icho Cruz.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Pregnancy Irritated Esophogus

A bad place to lost (004)


S ECURITY I've had worse days than this, just do not remember when.
not two hours ago I awoke in a dingy roadside motel with no memory, no identity, and a body that was not coming with me to set the day I was born. Since then I have stopped pretending to know what I do as I try to get answers while avoiding killing me. The last chapter - so far - this bizarre story was the persecution by a military helicopter that inexplicably exploded into pieces just as it was so close I could have touched by hand. The blast threw my suv rolling downhill to a stop upside down, run out of momentum and become a shapeless heap of junk.
Fortunately, safety belts and the cabin interior of the Mercedes had withstood the impact, like the airbags of the vehicle, so my companion and I were still alive and reasonably unscathed even hung upside down like a couple of bats. Blessed art German technology.
- We gotta get outta here asap! - My passenger grumbled, struggling with his belt.
- Quiet! Do not think anyone could have survived that.
- not the crew what worries me, genius - she replied, wrinkling her nose. I soon understood what he meant: a pungent smell of gasoline hung in the interior of the vehicle. "If that is several tons of sumábamos Blackhawk burning within walking distance, and throwing hot ashes around, the result of the equation is becoming very unpleasant. Not timed it, but I think it took me less than a second let go belt and crawled out the window. However, I had the presence of mind enough to stop and wait for my passenger, who had been rummaging something behind the back of the vehicle.
- Leave! Whatever, I do not worthwhile.
- a minute! - Said while rescuing that damn metal briefcase and a backpack military aspect assumed would be theirs. I pulled her to help her out through the window frame and we drove the Mercedes (or what was left of it) as soul who had the devil. I do not know that we expected to happen: maybe a movie explosion, with a lot of smoke and fireworks. But nothing happened. The flames continued to consume what remained of the helicopter is slowly growing as a dense column of smoke rose blown by the wind.
- Well, this is something that is not every day - I whispered. For answer, my laconic guide issued a low growl of dissatisfaction, before adding:
- What the hell happened?
I assumed he was referring to the mysterious explosion of Blackhawk.
- Ni idea. Maybe it was a failure. Or you may be correct, after all - I said without much conviction.
- Yes, of course. O come with a factory defect. Who cares! Anyway, it's a chore.
- Come on! Is it that you never see the glass half full? You ought to be a girl so sad - I asked, looking askance.
- No - replied tersely, tight-lipped until drew a faint line between her nose and chin perfect -. This smoke can be seen for miles, and the hunters still have stuck to his ass. It is as if we had a light arrow a mile long hanging over our heads and exposing our position. You better start to move.
- You lead - said, shrugging his shoulders.
- We left the route. I have to ask directions. Wait here a moment.
- of course - I said as she walked away, limping noticeably.
- Are you okay?
- I will. I'm tougher than it looks. Just like you. I see that you honor your fame type duro.
No estoy seguro, pero me pareció detectar un leve matiz de admiración en su voz, una idea que en otro momento me hubiese subido la moral; pero no ahora. Porque lo cierto es que tenía razón. Después de un accidente así debería tener varios huesos rotos. Debería estar lleno de moratones y tener todo el cuerpo machacado y dolorido. Y sin embargo no era así. Me sentía bien. De hecho, me sentía estupendamente bien; casi como si me hubiese quitado diez años de encima y fuese otra vez joven y capaz de comerme el mundo. Era extraño, pero la única explicación que se me ocurría era que mi anfitrión - quien quiera que fuese - estaba en mucha mejor forma que yo. Volví mi atención a my companion, who had drawn from his bag a modern military satellite phone and waited patiently for someone to respond to the other side. He did not wait long, after a few seconds I heard her answer, while I was away:
- I'm Pandora. We had a problem.
The rest of the conversation was lost in the distance. The funny thing was that he understood to perfection even though the language was changed to one that in principle I was not familiar. Yet somewhere along the way between my ears and my brain, the words had taken effect. Was also wearing body merit, or perhaps I was a language expert not be remembered? Questions, questions, questions, and not a single damn answer. Fortunately, the return of my partner stopped that line of thinking and hit me back to harsh reality.
- Okay, we have an alternative route, but far, so we'll have to hurry. I'm going ahead. Try not to miss a beat or staying far behind. Every twenty minutes we rested four. Do you understand?
- I think - I nodded, taking my best student expression applied -. Did you spell it backwards or just put it in writing?
- Ha ha, how funny - laughed false -. Spare me the comments ironic. Would not be here if you had not thrown my SUV loaded.
- Pardon? - Asked incredulously -. Sorry your Majesty! I remember hearing someone yelling at me to do something, anything, and as soon as possible. Perhaps your Lordship would have preferred throwing the bag out the window. Not to mention the very slight possibility that we are riddled with bullets. There
poked into bone. There was a brief flash of anger in his eyes - mixed with something else-an elusive but familiar emotions - that disappeared as quickly as it arrived. The girl took a deep breath while away an unruly strand of the face and then shrugged his shoulders an expression of studied indifference.
- Who cares! - Said a second time -. I was getting tired of it. Moreover, it was stolen. We'd better get moving. Time flies. Linking
words into action, my companion threw the backpack while I lay back the mysterious briefcase that apparently so many people wanted so much to kill - or die - for it.
- See if I'm wrong - ventured - at birth a soothsayer told your mother that if she ever smiled or asked for a pardon would have a horrible death, right?
- Well, today we woke sarcastic. What about you? Normally costs you out more than four consecutive words that make sense.
I was about to leave the bush again, but a voice inside my head stopped: she could have many of the answers I needed. Maybe it was time to tempt fate and sincere. When all is said and done, what was the worst that could happen? What I do not believe it, or if they did?
- The fact is that I have memory problems. I do not remember almost anything. Not even like my name. And the few things I remember are contradictory, as if they fit together. As if everything is ... different from what it should be. You know what I mean?
- Sure - replied, looking sideways a few feet away -. I understand that you get your shit is affecting the brain. For my worth, while not blind you to finish the job. Then you'll see. Exterminate you like few neurons you have left. And now. If you remember how to do, follow me!
sighed. Well, at least he had tried. The answers have to keep waiting. I felt like the Tin Man, Dorothy following the yellow brick road in search of the great Wizard of Oz. If I was given a brain do you? Anyway. As unpleasant as beautiful as my companion had said, it was time to start driving. In that, a motion blur on my left piqued my interest. A jet-black crow I watched from a nearby branch, bowing his head in a gesture of derision, as if they were laughing at something only he found funny. I was tempted to try cargármelo a stone, but what the hell: the final analysis, it was not his fault, and all have the right to life. Picking up the briefcase took a deep breath and ran behind Pandora. At least his back was as nice as the rest of his physique.

(Will it continue?)

A bad place to lose 001
A bad place to lose 002
A bad place to lose 003


Sunday, January 23, 2011

What Kind Of Drs Do Colonoscopies

Michelle Jenner, Agent of SHIELD


As some of you already know how (or maybe not) some time ago that I'm practicing with Photoshop in self-plan, but under the expert supervision of large and pleasant GMF, Master of CS5 and Encore, as well as author of some of the best music videos and montages that have been designed and we have seen in the Semana Negra de Gijón and Comic Days in Avilés. Obviously this does not mean anything, my mistakes are mine and only mine, and my few successes are due to the accurate advice Germain and the fact of having a model of emergency as Michelle , which has a special charm to always look perfect for any occasion.
So occasionally I will post here a sample of some of my experiments with the program as is the case of this "cover", which I tried to merge at least four of my favorite passions: Nick Fury, Jim Steranko , Michelle Jenner and the world of comics. The result? Improved, no doubt, but I do not deny that it has something, if only because of her ...

Sunday, January 9, 2011

43 Year Old Heart Palpitations

The souk in the fourteenth anniversary of the Sci-Fi Site


Site The Science Fiction plays a year, and are 14, and as that in the past, those responsible for it have had the details to invite me to collaborate on the Anniversary Special, which this year dealt with about the educational potential of the genre.
As usual, here are a direct link to the Signatures section of the site where you can enjoy (I hope) with my modest contribution as well as with other illustrious collaborators such that Peña Jesús Poza, Lola Robles, Jorge Vilches , Enric or Quilec Castro Antonio Quintana Carrandi , among other prominent names in the network. Also grateful for your criticisms (educated), comments, thoughts or corrections. A cordial greeting to everyone and soon we'll meet again in the souk to review the life and work of the great writer Eric Frank Russell . SCF

XIV Anniversary - Everything is potentially educational

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Jcpenney Costs Of Extensions

Ditko Files, Vol 1

this text I have to start recognizing that I have a great debt to Steve Ditko . For many years I have regarded as a famous second fiddle, half hidden behind the shadow of King Kirby, and that would be virtually unknown today if not for his role in the genesis of the most popular superhero of all time: Peter Parker, alias Spider-Man.
Yet this excellent volume Diabolo newly published editions reveals a different Ditko, but that already guess all the talent that made it so believable at the time to two characters as different from each other as were the shy, wimpy Peter Parker and Dr. Stephen Strange, the Master of the Mystic Arts.
Unlike other illustrious contemporaries as Will Eisner, Jack Kirby or Jim Steranko, Ditko was a quiet and hardworking professional. Blake Bell explains in his introduction, "Apparently, his childhood was typical of the Great Depression and World War II in a small American population. Born in 1927 and lived in Johnstown, Pa., in the midst of a big family. Was always considered as a discreet and reserved young man, some traits that kept during his early career in the comic. While not shy away from social interaction, I never considered the center of attention, or a womanizer, nor drink in public. It could be said of him - and a colleague, as Joe Gill, the prolific author of Charlton - he was a man hardened by life and old-fashioned. "
These first-time stories, mostly made in early fifties, before the Comic Code and in full splendor of the editorial EC, can make a very pleasant surprise to all those who, like myself, largely unknown in life and work of this great artist. They are short stories, autoconclusivos of varied topics ranging from horror to science fiction, through the western gender or black, through which Ditko unleashes his talent with that dynamism and expressiveness that are the house brand and eventually became so plausible antics of Spider-Man or the nightmare worlds frequented by Dr. Strange. Citing back to Dell : "Ditko pursuing a level of excellence that went far beyond what they pursued other authors, who were content with minimal effort to create what is often regarded as a product of throwaway children and change their work appear as something more lucrative and prestigious ".
In previous reviews have commented that this kind of deluxe editions tend to have always a "but", and yet, this time without a precedent, I could not find any. The binding is really good, and the role and reproduction of illustrations. The color is generally quite acceptable except for some bullet drop here and there where some ugly stain or smear a little, very little assembly. As for the translation in the absence of strong contrasts with the original, very correct and to appreciate serious spelling and grammatical errors, which is welcome in these times. Perhaps the most excessive of the work is its bloated price, which is not so much when you consider all of the above and that is a minority work for gourmets who want to know more about the author before us, in addition to knowing a little better that golden age of American comic before the outbreak of the Comics Code. How would Stan Lee himself : "Excelsior" and seldom could agree more with him.

TECHNICAL DATA:

TITLE: Strange Suspense: The Ditko files
Vol. 1 AUTHOR: Steve Ditko et alii
EDITORIAL: Diabolo
FORMAT: Hardcover, over 200 pages in full color, 24.5 x17, 5 cm.
RRP: € 34.95