finished reading the profile on Sunday. Quentin and Lanata look a little pessimism certainly refined and allegorical. Either recognize something, suggest something that can be shared. A kind of choking, suffocation intellectual and opinion that makes us ask the audience, for who will listen, and who read it. It seems fun, but both speak against the single thought some ended up being his commissioners, speaking in prose without knowing it. Which we did not so much importance to the matter, the plurality confident, almost to the automation of democratic virtue, threaded end discussing things we do not want guys who do not interest us. And on top, with a sense of irreparable loss which leaves only possibilities of personal redemption. Some will go to Boston, one to San Clemente and the other to the place of his dreams, but the collective construction of anything resembling what we want to wait until the censors, whose first reaction to prohibit what not like, and rebuke those who anathematize let us get a little place where arms and blades, to see if you find our little presence.
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