Entonces vino el dolor, y recordó.

Su pie. Aquel hijo de puta psicópata loco malnacido le había cortado un dedo. ¿Y qué había dicho de su hija? ¿Tenía una hija? ¿La había perdido? No lograba recordar nada, ni su nombre, ni su dirección, nada. Seguía forcejeando, mientras la desesperación iba abriéndose camino a través de su consciente hasta llegar a lo más profundo de su mente y sacar a la superficie los terrores más profundos, aquellos que nacen de la impotencia, de saberse presa de un depredador mayor.

Jadeante, cejó en su empeño. Entonces recordó algo. Mientras forcejeaba, había rozado algo con el codo derecho. Movió el codo y logró tocar algo, una especie de saliente de plástico que se desplazó al contacto con su piel.

Una bandeja. Estaba en una silla de dentista. Y entonces reparó en otra cosa.

Estaba desnudo.

Echó la cabeza hacia atrás, intentando recobrar el aliento. Pese a tener una sensación de nausea, tenía hambre. Tenía mucha hambre. Notaba su lengua y sus labios resecos, pero sin embargo, no tenía sed.

Eso le llevó a preguntarse: ¿cuánto llevaba allí? Era difícil saberlo. No sabía cuánto tiempo llevaba inconsciente. ¿O había estado sedado? No sabía por qué, pero sabía que aquella presión que sentía en las sienes era a causa de algún tipo de sedante. Inyectado en el cuello, posiblemente. Aquello explicaría las molestias que sentía.

Intentando analizar su situación en aquella oscuridad que le rodeaba, flexionó los brazos y las muñecas todo lo que pudo.

Y allí estaba. Cogida a su mano izquierda notaba el esparadrapo y las gasas. Seguramente estaba siendo alimentado e hidratado por via intravenosa.

Cric cric cric.

Contuvo la respiración automáticamente. Estaba escuchando algo.

Cric cric cric.

Sonaba raro. Como si alguien vertiese lentamente el contenido de una bolsa de pipas en un bol.

Cric cric cric.

¿De dónde venía el sonido? ¿De su lado derecho? Agudizó el oido y entonces oyó algo más.

Una respiración. No estaba sólo.

Instintivamente, se quedó paralizado por el miedo. Cerró los ojos. Intentó no respirar. No hacer ningún ruido.

El terror hizo que empezase a temblar.

Cuando el silencio es absoluto, cualquier ruido, por mínimo que sea, nos parece amplificado un millón de veces. El que hizo una silla arrastrándose al ser apartada fue como un rayo de ira divina lanzado desde el monte olimpo.

- Sé que estás despierto. Sé que tienes miedo. Sé que estás en lo cierto.

No se atrevió a moverse. La congoja se hospedó en su garganta y las lágrimas comenzaron a rodar por sus mejillas.

- Te tengo preparado un jueguecito. Se llama "cuenta a mis amigos". Vas a jugar conmigo. Quieras o no.

Mientras decía esto, su captor usaba una brocha para extender una sustancia pegajosa por todo su rostro.

Sentado y atado a la silla, otra sustancia menos pegajosa empezó a resbalar desde su entrepierna. Mientras, su captor continuó hablando, mientras seguía extendiendo la sustancia a lo largo de su tronco y hasta su pene.

- Esto es una mezcla de miel, queratina y agua. ¿Sabes lo que es la queratina?

¿Qué era todo aquello? ¿Por qué le estaba pasando a el?

- La queratina - prosiguió su captor - es una sustancia protéica. Se encuentra en las uñas, en el cabello, en la piel... en fin, en nuestro organismo.

En un impulso primordial, el hombre maniatado rompió el soliloquio de su captor.

- ¿Qué quieres? - llanto - ¿Qué quieres de mí? - indignación - ¡Qué quieres de mí! - ira - Que quieres... que quieres... - de nuevo el llanto.

Su captor terminó de extender la sustancia. Después acercó su boca a la oreja de su cautivo.

- Quiero verte sufrir. Como sufrió ella. Como sufrió tu hija.

- ¡Suéltame malnacido! - gritó el cautivo, mientras notaba como la sustancia goteaba por todo su cuerpo - ¡Suéltame hijo de puta!

La luz le hizo daño en los ojos. Cuando habituó a ella, pudo ver con claridad dónde estaba. Era una habitación con paredes suelo y techo de cemento, con una instalación eléctrica de superficie. No tendría más de diez metros de ancho. No había ventanas. Una sóla puerta al frente.

Estaba en el garaje o en el sótano de alguien.

Tras el, su captor se acercaba. Intentó darse la vuelta para mirarle, pero no podía. Unas manos le agarraron de la nuca y el menton y acto seguido, le estaban sujetando la cabeza al reposacabezas del sillón con cinta americana.

¿Dos personas?

Un enmascarado, su captor, la voz que conocía entró en su campo de visión. Llevaba un gran cajón de plástico en sus manos.

- Te voy a contar un par de cosas que creo que deberías saber. No recuerdas nada a causa de una neurotoxina que te administro, que te mantiene sedado y además hace que no logres recordar practicamente nada.

- Porfavorporfavorporfavor, no me haga daño, no me haga daño...

- Otra cosa que deberías saber es que sobre la queratina.

- No me importa la queratina, por favor, no me haga daño...

- Debería importarte, hazme caso. En esta situación, soy lo más parecido a un amigo que vas a tener cerca. ¿No es curioso?

No supo que responder. El encapuchado prosiguió, adoptando un tono exageradamente académico.

- La queratina es una sustancia protéica. Un auténtico manjar.

Quitó la tapa al cajón.

- Para la cucaracha brasileña.

Decenas, cientos de insectos cayeron sobre el tronco, el cuello, el pelo y la cara del cautivo. Miles de patas recorrían su cuerpo.

Gritó.

Varios insectos penetraron en su boca.

Vomitó.

Los insectos intentaban escapar. Algunos hacia dentro.

Empezó a toser, asfixiándose con los insectos todavía vivos.

Tragó.

Espasmos provocados por el asco y la repugnancia le recorrián todo el cuerpo, convulsionándolo.

Logró respirar.

Fue consciente de que había tragado cucarachas vivas.

Siguió gritando.

De haber podido, habría oido las risas.

En algún momento en los siguientes minutos, se desmayó.

El enmascarado se acercó a el. Inyectó algo en la bolsa del suero.

- Mañana más.

barbedwire, Jump, sth yorks-xmas06, originally uploaded by Richard Adams.

This one is a little less romantic than the last post but it has a certain brutal beauty. Clearly not in the same league but I was always fascinated by Picasso's Guernica which was shows the horror of war in a way that is multi layered and profound. I guess here I was trying to distill beauty and horror into one apparently warm image. Industry vs. nature. Warm vs. cold. Beauty vs. beast. Mother nature vs. mankind. Not sure I totally succeeded...

Another thing I like about this is that it's one of the small things aorund us that get ignored but that artists can bring to poeple's attention. I like small details they add the texture to humdrum lives. Most cars in a  particular class are the same but the details are what persuade one person to buy a certain car over another...the devil is in the detail.

Anus picket vibrant, ventouse et taille médium pour des sensations encore plus intenses.

Laissez vos envies vous guider avec cet anus picket vibrant au moteur puissant proposant 4 intensités de vibrations. Ce modèle Médium à la taille évidemment un peu plus imposante que la version small satisfera la plupart des amatrices et amateurs de plaisir anal. Sa base évasée peut servir de ventouse pour pouvoir le fixer sur n'importe quelle surface lisse. La prise en main de la télécommande est aisée et les boutons de changement de vitesse tombent sous les doigts pour une utilisation sans contrainte.
Matière : TPR plastic souple et doux Longueur : 13,5 cm
Diamètre : jusqu'à 3 cm
Couleur : rose
Marque: ToyJoy
Utilise 2 piles AA non inclues.

En stock maintenant,cliquez ici.

Figments of our imagination can warp our minds to the point that we believe things are possible when they are in fact very far from it.  Who was I to think that people would actually like and love me? Who was I? The cheek of it is so sad.

My whole life I have been taught not to trust others love for me.  I have been taught more times than I choose to say that the only reason people talk or are friends with me is for the fact that they can get/gain something.  I feel so drained, dead inside, I've allowed myself to feel too much.

The culmination came when my dog decided to eat two letters I had received from friends overseas. These two people are close to my heart and I wanted to treasure those two pieces of them.  Reality is although I shouldn't hold much worth in mere paper they held love in their porous fabric.  They are destroyed now, shredded beyond recognition.

I am a person that believes in signs, purpose and reasons. For him to do that one day after I came to this realisation shook me to my core. Almost as if it was the cherry on the cake and telling me "Look see it is nothing but shredded hopes of something that you will never be destined to have".

In a sense I am grateful that I have come to this realisation now.  I am grateful that I know for to continue in the farce of oblivion and imagination would've no doubt killed my spirit far more the longer it had lasted.

Needless to say all the walls I had spent months breaking down are up once more, in the blink of an eye they returned to save me.  Survival instincts that lie within me are strong, they baffle therapists and others. They are strong because I have faced so much in my short life and I treasure them now.  They will protect me and save me.

I will hold my life in my heart, I will hold my thoughts, passions and spirit close to me now. I will protect it because my life depends on it, it really does.

You would never say I am an extrovert by reading this, I am a naturally exuberant person but alas this is my space for reality.  This is where I will type the brutal truths that flow through my veins and I will write as I grow from them.  I will write about my fears, my issues and my life.

This is my other personalities space.

myspace.com/wcrxmetalshow

Here is a list of major attacks for last 15 years , I wont put the ratings as all are equally sad and horrible.Its purely for information and I serously hold such acts of terror as untolerable and biggest threat to the civilized world.

• March 12, 1993 - Bombay bombings, 257 deaths.

• Since 2002, terrorism-related fatalities have demonstrated a secular decline in Jammu and Kashmir (J&K), and this trend continued in 2006, with a total of 1,116 persons killed. More than 40,000 people have lost their lives in the conflict since 1989, and, even at present, an average of nearly 100 lives is lost each month in J&K.

• December 13, 2001 - Attack on the parliament complex in New Delhi-7 Deaths

• October 29, 2005 - Three powerful serial blasts in New Delhi at different places just two days before Hindu festivalDeepawali. About 70 people died in this incident.-70 deaths

• July 11, 2006 - At least 200 people killed in a series of 7 train bombing during the evening rush hour near Mumbai.

• May 13, 2008 - at least 63 were killed in 9 bomb blastsalong 6 areas in Jaipur.-63 deaths

• A total of 742 persons died in Maoist-related violence across the country in 2006, up from 717 in 2005. Chhattisgarh in 2006 emerged as the worst affected State – dramatically displacing Andhra Pradesh – and the Dantewada District was by far the worst off within the State.

•  Manipur, which, at 280 fatalities, now accounts for nearly 45 per cent of the fatalities in the Northeast – with just 5.6 per cent of the region’s population. Manipur thus remains the most violent State in the region, although there is a relative decline in violence, with total fatalities registering a decline from 331 in 2005

• May 18, 2007 - at least 13 people were killed, including 4 killed by the Indian police in the rioting that followed, in thebombing at Mecca Masjid, Hyderabad that took place during the Friday prayers.-13 dead

• July 26, 2008 - 56 were killed and over 110 injured in 17 serial bomb blasts in Ahmedabad.

Acum, aş vrea aici să ne concentrăm asupra unei probleme de limbă, asupra puţinelor replici din timpul acestei din urmă scenă. Replici precum „curvă de clasă înaltă”, „scursură de clasă superioară”, „curvă bogată” etc au o recurenţă la fel de mare precum a înjurăturilor ţipate pentru a intimida victima (jucată de Monica Belluci), folosite pe lângă forţa brută a agresorului. Agresorul e singurul care formulează fraze şi injurii, victima este redusă la gemete, forţată să participe pasiv la distrugerea propriei vieţi. Diferenţa dintre înjurături şi replicile de tipul celor menţionate este că cele din urmă stau, în ceea ce este, deci, monologul criminalului, drept mijloc de auto-justificare pentru violenţa gratuită şi brutală aplicată de proxenet a la femme riche. Vedem cum asasinul recunoaşte într-o replică fugitivă că el „nu procedează de obicei aşa”, însă pesemne că îşi schimbă abordarea atunci când îi remarcă victimei rochia scumpă şi ţinuta elegantă.

În lipsa replicilor rare şi brutale amintite, se dezlănţuie o întreagă hermeneutică corporală în care, prin brutalitate, o entitate este pur şi simplu distrusă de către alta. Aceste mesaje gestuale sunt analoage celor unui nemâncat ajuns la îngurgitarea unei mese copioase la care abia ar fi putut visa, analoage comportamentului prin care cineva şi-ar satisface pofta de tot ce a râvnit până la un moment dat atunci când dorinţele sale s-ar împlini dintr-odată. Pe scurt, este vorba de ecranizarea a ceea ce am numit acum ceva timp colocvial invidie, egală râvnirii cu un pathos extrem la ceva separat de tine şi care aparţine de drept altuia*. Este ecranizarea unui sistem ideologic ce coboară de la catedrele academice franţuzeşti atât de bine îmbibate de el până la pasajele subterane din miez de noapte, şi ele tot franţuzeşti. Microstructural vorbind, ceea ce la nivel macro este ură de clasă, se traduce în violenţă brutală şi dominaţie nedrept câştigată de către o brută asupra unui stindard al elegantului şi, aşa cum este numit personajul jucat de Belluci de către fostul său iubit, al esteticului.

Dar oare nu aceasta este paradigma istorică est-europeană a celei de-a doua jumătăţi de secol XX?

*Vezi articolul meu Munca precum o pradă, tot sau numai ¶7. Disponibil online aici.

In hardcore there have always been followers and there has always been leaders. With their debut full length, Abyss, I think Shipwreck a.d. is proving that they are willing to fight their way to the top of the hardcore pile.

I haven't heard anything in hardcore in a while that I thought was tremendously cutting edge, but I have heard tons of bands that are taking already well established styles and running wild with them and these guys are certainly one of those bands. The one big thing I appreciate about Shipwreck a.d. is the fact that they're not playing the annoyingly slow and churning and monotonous metallic hardcore that most of their peers are cranking out; these guys crank up the speed and go into every song at full throttle.

The second thing is the lyrical content. I definitely get the sense that these guys have a huge bone to pick with humanity in general, but they don't go about it in the typical ‘digging knives from my back' kind of way that too many bands stoop to. The lyrics come across like dark poetic verses that vocally come out like a cornered wild animal who has decided to turn on its attackers. Abyss is heavy, ferocious and has enough of a gloomy vibe to make me wonder, "What the hell are all these dudes is Massachusetts so pissed about?" I still don't know, but I'll wager that, in time, Shipwreck a.d. will be sure to fill us in.

ami ek kaale behala bajano shikhtam. praay teen bochhor shikhechhilam, jodio tate khub ekta subidhe korte parini. raate jokhon practise kortam, tokhon sob thik thak. prochur chhor tene tene klanto hoye jokhon ghumote jetam tokhon mone ek adbhut proshanti. nijeke motamuti next Yehudi Menuhin ba Jascha Heifetz bhabtam. bangalir chhele, tay moddhyobitto, ektu simple living high thinking hole khoti nei. kintu sokale uthe chintito mukhe jokhon maa bolto "janis to, kal saara raat dhore hulota kNedechhe, ebar kar paala ke jaane", tokhon ektu kharap i lagto bote. jai hok, high thinking sesh porjonto thinking i roye gelo. amar bajna shune loker shudhu hai i uthto, kono high te tara jeto na.

jai hok se sob katha thak. mone porle amar mone korun sure behalay background music beje othe. kichu kajer katha likhi. behala shikhte giye amar ekta odbhut obhigyota hoyechhilo. amar guru, orthat jaake deutsch e bole "Meister", tini ekjon sanghatik violinist. maane bidesh tidesh giye shaada chamra der sathe bajiye eschhen. taate okhane tNar koto ta somman berechhilo janina, ekhane tini pray mahapurush, obotaar gochher lok hoye uthechhilen. tar opor tini chhilen bangali christian. sutoraang bujhtei parchhen, shorire neel neel rokto dekha geleo jete pare!

sei karonei bodhoy onar e desher lokder opor bishesh kore bangalider opor ekta prochhawnno obhokti dekha jeto. tar opor chhilo racism. ekdin ami lesson nichhi sir er kache. jothariti majhe majhei sir bole uthechhilen, "Swarnab, tomar bajna shune amar gaa gulochhe!" ami ki ar korbo, chupchap hojom korchhilam. odike sir er barte mistri kaj korchhilo. kono ekta somoy ekjon mojur break niye amader bajna sunchhilo dorjar pashe dariye. amader bajna sesh hote se ghore dhuklo kono ekta kaj korte ba kichhu ekta nite. chhoto ghor bole ami baire eshe dariyechhilam, ar amar behalata chhilo ghore khaater opor rakha. sir eshe jei dekhlen ami baire ar behala okhane, uni khub rege gelen. amake bollen: "Swarnab tomar ekta kandogyan nei? ora kaj korchhe ar tumi behala ta rekhe chole eshchho... jodi lege jay kothao? oder kono sense ache? THEY ARE BRUTES!"

Brutes! shilpider jantam sukumar britti ghote ebong onyoder cheye ektu beshi hridoybaan o hon tara. sekhane BRUTES katha ta ektu brutality-r porichoy dey na ki? ei bhodrolok i jokhon Bach er Air on the G-string bajan, tokhon mone hoy swargo beshi dur noy. erom dichotomy ami aj o thik bujhe uthte parlum na. Theory ebong Practice er kono melbondhon bodhoy Rabindranath, Gandhiji, ebong aro selected koyekjon chhara keu i korte pareni.

From Abnormality.  Awesome.

If we've learned anything from these kinds of games, particularly Guitar Hero 3, its that it gets people to buy records.  Remember when people first heard Dragonforce through GH3?  I recall Through the Fire and the Flames getting mainstream radio airplay as a result of the exposure.  Abnormality is a tad more abrasive than Dragonforce however, so I doubt we'll hear something like Visions on the radio anytime soon...

Oh, wait!  Thats what I'm here for!

A long set of brutal / technical death metal awaits those who tune in this week.

setelah melihat gambar ini masih saja beranggapan supporter sepakbola Eropa lebih baik daripada supporter kita

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8h5cEgPN7Sk

Reklama Tıklayarak Konuyu Görebilirsiniz

Click To The Advertisement You Can See The Subject

I remember that day I wanted to just have fun, but now we're (the lead guitarist and me) getting serious into this, to the point where we want to gig and *crosses fingers* get signed. I've already laid out some lyrics, but just gotta start meeting up with everyone and trying to make some shit happen. My friend and I are all thinking about how crazy it would be to play at huge tours and gig and be famous.. Hell I would love, and I'm sure everyone would. This is my first blog in awhile so TTFN!

In 15 Jahre währender Arbeit habe er viele Quellen neu entdeckt und ausgewertet, sagte Nagel. Sein Befund: Mohammed sei es bei der Verbreitung der Islam-Ideologie immer auch um die eigene Macht und die seines Clans gegangen. Professor Nagel sagt: "Alles, was Mohammed tat, war mit dem Aspekt von Herrschaft verknüpft."

Durch geschicktes Taktieren, das Brechen von Absprachen und brutale Massaker habe Mohammed den "Dschihad", den Kampf gegen seine Feinde, gewonnen und die Macht in seiner Heimatstadt Mekka übernommen. In Wahrheit habe es keine plötzliche Bekehrung durch Allah gegeben; vielmehr habe der Feldherr Mohammed aus bekannten Ideen und Konzepten, die auf der arabischen Halbinsel im Umlauf waren, nach und nach eine neue "Religion" entwickelt. Das gesamte Interview mit dem Mohammed-Biografen ist nachzulesen in der GEOkompakt Nr. 16 "Glaube und Religion".

Quelle

TOP 5 PIORES JOGOS

Nº 5 - Sonic 3D



Talvez por ser Sonic e por esperar tanto do jogo que sucedia o genial Sonic & Knuckles, acabei por odiar verdadeiramente este jogo, mesmo assim acabei por o jogar bastante, talvez para parte de mim acreditar que o jogo seria bom. Infelizmente isso nunca aconteceu...

O que fazia o jogo mau? Ora bem o que esperamos de um jogo de Sonic? VELOCIDADE! E o que tinhamos neste jogo? Um sonic que parecia ter graves problemas atléticos. Para alem de controlos horríveis, e de uns pássaros que simplesmente nos davam cabo do juízo... principalmente aquele vermelho... como eu te odeio pássaro vermelho...

Nº 4 - The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion



Será preciso dizer porque odeio este jogo? Para alem do IA horrível, do mau voice-acting, da má distribuição de armas e armaduras pelos npcs do jogo, das quests sem interesse, dos "zooms" horríveis para a cara das pessoas, dos maus diálogos e do facto do nível da personagem servir apenas para mostrar um número? Eu diria que não!

Nº 3 - Ridge Racer



IT'S RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDGE RACER! Como eu fiquei traumatizado com estas palavras... O que se pode dizer do jogo, basicamente era um simulador de corridas em que o principal objectivo era mostrar que sabiam fazer jogos do género em 3D... apesar de parecerem horríveis... e já nem falo dos controlos. Aspecto positivo do jogo, o mini-game que se jogava ao inicio, em que se destruíssemos todas as naves inimigas desbloqueávamos carros, catita.

Nº 2 - Worms 3D



Porquê? Porquê meu Deus? Se o jogo em 2D era perfeito, porque é que tinham converter para 3D e fazer das nossas minhocas guerreiras favoritas um jogo sem interesse? Deixem as nossas minhocas em paz, por favor!

E agora...


Nº 1 - Brutal: Paws of Fury



Imaginem-se crianças de 8 anos, no Natal à espera de um jogo surpresa, um jogo que deve ser genial e que esperam por ele 6 meses, ao fim desses 6 meses finalmente abrem o embrulho, salivam por um novo jogo, mal podem esperar por finalmente jogar, e quando todos os papéis são removidos eis ele... Brutal! Digo-vos nunca um jogo me causou tanta raiva tanto ódio, e ainda hoje guardo um rancor muito especial por este estafermo. Porquê? Talvez ódio pessoal, mas uma coisa é certa o jogo é... HORRÍVEL!

TOP 5 MELHORES JOGOS

Nº 5 - Assassins Creed



Há quem adore, há quem deteste. Pessoalmente eu adoro, até agora há poucos jogos que me deram tanto prazer a jogar, principalmente pela sensação de liberdade que nos dá. Não há muito para falar sobre o jogo, é verdade que partes podem ser um pouco repetitivas, mas sinceramente, tudo o resto compensa qualquer defeito que tenha.

Nº 4 - Bionic Commando Rearmed



Depois do que falei desta maravilha no outro artigo não há muito mais para dizer, é simplesmente bom!

Nº 3 - Worms



Qualquer Worms anterior ao Worms 3D é pura maravilha dos tempos livres. O que mais se pode querer? Exércitos de minhocas armadas até aos dentes em guerra até que apenas uma equipa fique em pé, mapas diversos, controlos e jogabilidade simples, sons e explosões hilariantes. É isto que define um jogo, simplesmente não há mais para dizer.

Nº 2 - Metal Gear Solid



É preciso dizer alguma coisa? Só se for a palavra "Snake", é um jogo que não precisa de apresentações, e algures no mundo neste momento há uma pessoa a ter um orgasmo mental com este jogo ou qualquer outra da saga... Menos o 2.

Finalmente...

Nº 1 - Final Fantasy VII


Considerado por muitos como o melhor RPG de sempre, ou até mesmo o melhor jogo de sempre. Tem uma história viciante, uma banda sonora de luxo, quando saiu tratava-se de um RPG revolucionário pelos gráficos que apresentava, e foi o primeiro jogo que fez milhões de pessoas chorar pelo mundo inteiro. Ainda hoje tem uma legião de fãs e ainda move grandes massas no comércio com várias sequelas, prequelas e também direito a um filme CGI.
Se nunca jogaram, não fazem ideia o que perdem!

What makes good people do bad things? How can moral people be seduced to act immorally? Where is the line separating good from evil, and who is in danger of crossing it? Renow-ned social psychologist Philip Zimbardo has the answers, and in The Lucifer Effect he explains how---and the myriad reasons why---we are all susceptible to the lure of "the dark side." Drawing on examples from history as well as his own trailblazing research, Zimbardo details how situational forces and group dynamics can work in concert to make monsters out of decent men and women. Zimbardo, professor emeritus of psychology at Stanford University, is perhaps best known as the creator of the Stanford Prison Experiment. For the first time, he tells the full story of this landmark study, in which a group of college-student volunteers was randomly divided into "guards" and "inmates" and then placed in a mock prison environment. Within a week the study was abandoned, as ordinary college students were transformed into either brutal, sadistic guards or emotionally broken prisoners. This event took place October 4, 2007 at Google Headquarters in Mountain View, CA «

Also interesting:

• Zimbardo on the Daily Show with Jon Stewarton
• Power of the Situation
• Das Experiment - Trailer

I can remember the first time a guy asked me if I liked him.  And how did I answer him?  I said yes.  Why pussyfoot around the fucking answer.  I liked him, so I said yes.  And then I asked him if he liked me.  And how did he respond?  He said he didn't know.

What the fucking hell?  He didn't know?  The little prick.  You either like someone or you don't.

Anyway that has been my experience time and again.

I am brutally honest and they (guys) are... I don't know the words to describe them at this moment.

I would like to say "be a man" but I realize that maybe being a man is the problem.

Be honest.  If you don't like me, tell me. 

Do I scare you?

Am I too intense for you?

I am intense.  I will be brutally honest if asked a direct question.  That is just me.  Just me looking for someone who can take me on and not be scared.

Kalau sudah brutal otomatis bisa salah pergaulan. Lalu mereka mulai melirik yang namanya Rokok. Awalnya hanya sekali hisap, lama - lama jadi berkali-kali. Kemudian setelah merokok, mereka mulai mencoba yang namanya NARKOBA. Waduw, sudah semakin kacau aja nih...

Pertama hanya sedikit, lama-kelamaan dosisnya semakin bertambah. Belum lagi ditambah minuman keras. Kalau sudah seperti itu, siapa yang patut disalahkan ? Orang tua tidak dapat disalahkan sepenuhnya tapi anak juga tidak dapat disalahkan 100%. Kesalahan orang tua adalah mereka terlalu sibuk dengan masalah mereka hingga mereka lupa bahwa mereka memiliki anak yang wajib diperhatikan. Lalu kadang mereka juga menganggap bahwa anak tidak perlu tahu masalah mereka. Padahal setidaknya mereka harus menjelaskan tentang masalah mereka ke anak agar tidak terjadi kesalahpahaman. Lalu untuk si Anak, mari kita berpikir yang logis dan tidak nyleneh.

Kadang kita berpikir bahwa kita ini penyebab perceraian orang tua kita. Tetapi ada banyak hal yang tidak kita ketahui tentang permasalahan orang dewasa. Kenapa kita tidak berpikir untuk menyatukan mereka dengan cara yang menyenangkan. Namun jika kita telah mencoba untuk menyatukan mereka tapi tidak berhasil, apa yang bisa kita lakukan ? Kadang orang tua memutuskan untuk cerai karena sudah merasa tidak cocok lagi, lalu mereka menemukan orang yang lebih mengerti mereka dan mereka memutuskan untuk hidup bersama. Kita sebagai anak hanya bisa memahami mereka. Asalkan mereka masih saling berkomunikasi dengan baik, pasti ke depannya akan baik-baik saja. Mungkin kita merasa belum siap menerima kenyataan, tetapi itu bukan berarti kita harus selamanya terpuruk dalam masalah itu, kan. Kita bisa mencari hal - hal positif yang dapat membangun semangat kita kembali. Seperti mengikuti ekskul yang ada di sekolah, mengembangkan hobi dan bakat kita, dan masih banyak lagi hal yang dapat dilakukan.
Ingat satu hal bahwa semuanya tidak akan berakhir hanya karena perceraian. Aku juga anak broken home, tapi dengan keyakinan bahwa aku bisa bangkit. Akhirnya akupun bangkit dengan kemampuanku sendiri...
EmM...kayaknya cukup sampai di sini dulu tulisan ini. Buat teman - teman yang mau curhat atau berbagi pengalaman denganku atau bahkan ada yang butuh konselor, aku siap membantu kalian. Terima kasih atas kunjungannya dan jangan lupa meninggalkan pesan, kesan, kritik dan saran yaw...Kritikkan Anda sangat berguna untukku.

For MATURE viewers only!!!! Young men behaving badly in prison! Awesome-looking young stud Rocky (David Zooey Hall)--with a face and body that could bring tears to your eyes--corners a cute boy (who looks alot like Richie Cunningham from Happy Days) in the prison shower. An excerpt from the rarely seen movie, very daring for the time it was made. An MGM release. Based on John Herbert's experiences in a Canadian reformatory.

Screenplay by Mr. Herbert, from his stageplay of the same name. Filmed in an actual Canadian prison. Also stars Michael Greer, Wendell Burton. Directed by Harvey Hart.

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