#NewYear's Day

Almanac of the Day After

Tomorrow is Sunday, 1st January (Saint Frodobert, abbot).
Sunrise 8.37 a.m., sunset 5.53 p.m.
Benedectine monk, Frodobert was born in Troyes, France.
Bénédectine is also a liquor, distilled since 1510, originally made by an Italian monk, don Bernardo Vincelli. Among the plants he used there are angelica, melissa, coriander, saffron. 1863 Alexandre Le Grand, a French herbalist, made it better, best. DOM. Deo Optimo Maximo.

P.S. Happy New Year!


The Fabelmans

This Chistmas day's afternoon I have spent time with #TheFabelmans  (a Steven Spielberg's movie, 150'). What does it mean? Just I choose those lengthy movies.
Going to the theatre at 63, it should be a matter of cultural heritage because as a child I was often brought to the cinema by my parents or at least one of them. Technicolor. Life in.
Can't say exactly the very first movie I had seen besides Mom and Dad. For sure some Walt Disney's Wonderful World animated film! Here I'd like to bring up the circumstances of movies my parents showed to enjoy while I sat next to them in the dark hall. As for my mother it's plain to assert her favorite movie was 'Gone With The Wind' by Victor Fleming, for as sole son I was appointed to accompany her for watching it over again. So I have been attending the story of Scarlett O'Hara at least four times, to be multiplied by 221' each view.
As for my father I liked when he was laughing out loud during the vision of such a film as 'The Great Race' by Blake Edwards (160'), even tough he was a 1920s-born man fond of the early comedians, Laurel and Hardy above all. With him I actually entered the milieu of adult cinema: it was around 1965, i.e. 'For a Few Dollars More' by Sergio Leone (132'). That film director bore the name of my father and was also known as Bob Robertson that's mine.
"Everything happens for a reason!"—cit. from #TheFabelmans .

P.S. Here D.M.L.R. newsletter No. 4 as published on December, 1997 (IT only).


Bookmark (pt.VII)

"In April 1992, a young man... hitchhiked to Alaska and walked alone into the willderness north of Mt. McKinley." (prologue to 'Into The Wild' by Jon Krakauer, Pan Books of www.panmacmillan.com, € 12).
Extreme living. That same year I was exaggerating with myself by leaving home, therefore expecting a solitary experience. Thirty years after I could say I'm living extremely well what I had predicted—because it was predictable. Looking forward to the next exciting extent.
Since last February my car's batteries have run out of juice. Can one live without a motor vehicle? Conscious footprint conclusive. Walking for 10 miles every working day. Cycling for 20 miles on holidays. Exude. Since last April my TV is insensible to the HD broadcasts, thus a set unsightly untapped. Meanwhile comfortable habits have been eradicated. But all that was not enough.
Afterward some light bulbs appeared kind of superflous to me. Sunset and sunrise rule these days. Not living in Alaska, some heating is no more essential, even in November. A house interior that falls from 22°C to 17°C or less is basically no more a home, just a shelter. Idealist! While the Arctic Ocean is running out of ice, I'm trying to halve the monthly consume of domestic gas as standard cubic metres (smc). Solidarity with a new life. Another watershed moment: the Krakauer's book, beside its pitiful story, put forward the intense connexions between the adventurous, gung-ho protagonist and his reading's favorite authors with their heavy backpack coming to life from the great outdoors—say Henry Thoreau, Jack London or Lev Tolstòj. Now they all, including Chris McCandless as visible form and synthesis of the ideals of escape, would help realize and better myself during the years to come.
Epilogue: Maybe this is the last you shall read from me. I have been going into the wild.

PS. Let's celebrate DMLR 25 YEARS ONLINE!


Appeal for Peace

Philo-Russian and Pro-Western have become main categories neighbouring the philopsophy. Like other dichotomies: the Poet and the Peasant, the Engineer and the Humanist. Or closer to these days, Hardware & Software, Mercenary & Patriot. All these contraries are strangely interlaced on the war's narrative. For instance the 'Russian enclosure' is suitable for a peasant with a wistful feeling. While Ukraine has been lobbying for the American air-defence missile, the Patriot, whose battery alone costs upwards of US$1 billion! Mercenaries on poor quality tanks (hardware) were leading on to Donbas and other oblasts with difficulty. Ukrainian countermove had seen the Ministry of Digital leading it by data and technology (software). Merely the drones as autonomous intelligence have been operating inside the overall grinder of a defending 'War' as well as in support of the 'Special Operation'. Bipartisan IA.
This conflict had been dormant from the annexation of Crimea (Philo-Russian region), some says much earlier from the nationalist 'Orange Revolution' (Pro-Western supporters), some from the former USSR collapse without a crucial maintenance of democratic governments both inside and outside the mother(fucking)-Russia.
In order to break that vicious cycle I would here appeal for Peace. But whom do I beg the question to? Not the Ukrainians whose day-to-day is in danger—"will we be fast enough next time to reach the bomb shelter?"—and are woefully paying off this much, an erroneous aggression.
I can't appeal to Nadya Tolokonnikova, kinky artist feminist and member of the PussyRiot movement, who spent two years in jail for fighting the tyrant.
(Pussy Riot T-shirts and Duct Tape available at #Pussyriot.store ;)
Also appealing to Nataliya Goncharova, Ukrainian-born naturalized Russian volleyball player, prime star of the national team, credited with 200K followers on Instagram, obviously unaware of the military intervention or at least a believer that it's an action taken to improve a geopolitical disorder, would be nonsense. By the way Natalja Goncharova was the spouse of Aleksander Puškin (1799-1837) the famous man of letters, unsuited to arms, who died two days after a duel. As poet he would choose the peace ex post!
Perhaps I should appeal to the Generation Z, visibly consonant with the 'Z' used by the Russian troops. But those youngsters are truly engaged in fighting climate change, fossil-fueled economy, nuclear power, fascists who are benefiting from world crisis, EU politics cozying up to the despot... Wait a moment: friendly intimacy could go on for years! I should finally admit that the problem is too complex.
Thus I would imagine one scientist like Andrej Sacharov, ill-treated and exiled in the USSR, coming out against the war to clear up the complexity of this international equation
We do need such a booster of human rights, able to teach a methodical approach to any challenge. The one who had disclosed much beforehand, while he was living under censorship by a totalizing power, the interaction needed between Fight to Hunger, Respect for Earth, Reduction on Armaments, Freedom of Speech, all factors of the same resulting objective. Him, Sacharov = Сахаров, do I suggest as inspirational to all those influencers on OnlyFans, TikTok, Twitter, YouTube, Instagram, YouPorn, etc. in order to appeal effectively for Peace!
(Wishful thinking? Trash by a pacifist blogger? Now visit #MEMORIAL Human Rights Centre  c/o Memohrc.org.)

P.S. Follow the appeal for peace on the independent press, if you know that.


Out Of Breath

A stainless steel paperknife with magnifying glass under which I skim through an old map that reads TABVLA RUSSIÆ de Magno Domino, Tzari et Magno Dvci Michäel Foedrowits omnium Russorum M.DC.XIII, two-head eagle and cross-surmounted crown as coat of arms ready to annex regions of Ukraine against the UN Charter for this happens since 28 weeks I count today but can't stop to visit the landmarks on this framed antiquated drawing—from MARE BALTICVM to MARE CASPIVM, from MOVRMANSKOY MORE to ZORNO MORE—my forefinger is an index passing over uncertain names until the reconnaissance has possibly uncovered some actual places, i.e. Kiew belonged to WOLYNIA?, Dnieper flu. flew up to Oslamkirmen and aside Bog flu. flowed down near Oczakow despite of invasions, sieges, or fantastic tales, CRIMEA once upon a time (and now then), Cercum probably as Kerč' of the flamboyant bridge, Assow upon Mar d'Azov (PALVS MEOTIS?), while I can't find nothing about Donez, just that Scalla flu. tells me nothing, so I would explain this much the Donez Basin or Donbas was very rich of carbon deposits but nobody cared of that region because the fossil-fueled neoliberal order was not come yet and the governments didn't add fuel to the fire: Gazprom didn't mean Russian gas or in then Moscva, ad Architypum Foedori Borißowitsi, a journalist named Anna Politkovskaia couldn't be eliminated for having told about the accession to power of a tzar that is from Latin 'Caesar' since Romans knew how to fatally stab him, Caesar, by means of brutal strength, the same used in the modern times to hit the targets, for instance the bombing in cities to disable power grids, so finally you are asking me what does produce an escalation of the conflict just ahead of winter..?
P.S. Geopolitical charts on www.limesonline.com!


World Wide Web

The DMLR Guide has been updated with the proviso that new websites represent a top grade (personal) choice.
As People, Angelotrofa.co.uk got to do with Nike football design, I can't say no longer, while Francescafiorentini.com will astound you with pieces of intelligence—catch her The Bitchuation Room on YouTube or Twitch and all podcast platforms!
As Marketing, Marketingmix.com, a domain for sale (1 million US$), mingled with a number of other websites. For instance, Pullandbear.com reminds of a baseball cap's good buy at €13. Chatting about music? Wmg.com connotes original music, different from the conventional rut, that would rapidly have a great vogue. Then from Ceske Budejovice Budweiserbudvar.com a pilsner beer made of artesian water, malt, hops. Guess what I have just written of Guess.com(?)
Those that hides knows where to find.

P.S. The complete WWW review is available at DMLR Guide.


Summer Postcard

The first time I saw the sea... curious question? That was very ancient story by now. I was a child, wasn't a boy yet. Parents had holidays in August for mass production needed mass vacation. Adriatic the first sea. Likes. Mom liked the sand and the full boarding house, that is: "I like going to eat on a table already set", just for a week or two. Italian regional dialects around, heard from many beach umbrellas so closing in.
Rough sea calm. The flags flaunting aloft. Mothers know all the bathing rules, don't water before three hours from the meal. Beach lifeguards ready to roll. One loudspeaker says a kid has been found at the Four Winds baths: "Please the parents come and pick her up!"
A ship takes the tourists off to the open sea every day. Walking along the seashore—"watch there, that's the wellknown hotel Internazionale, named after your football team!" Goalies. Kick the ball, Dad! I will save by plunging in the sand. Playing till he's tired. We are citizens going around by rubber sandals. The smell rises up from the canalized port. They say designed by Leonardo da Vinci, hydraulic expertise. Fishing boats in the care of seadogs at sunset. We are tourists strolling out for soda pop. Many ice-cream flavors. What do you like? Pistacchio... And turning back to Cesenatico.

P.S. Four-star seaside www.hinternazionale.it is always there!


Bookmark (pt.VI)

For publishing my own website I needed to manage the HTML—HyperText Markup Language. The hypertext indeed. A system of markups that defines all the logical elements a Web document should build on. The book on which I learned the HTML is 'HTML for Dummies Quick Reference' by Deborah S.Ray and Eric J.Ray (1997). It costed Lit. 19,000 as Italian edition by Apogeo.
(E.g. I have just used two important markups to underscore its title. Now a hugger-mugger <BR> to start a new paragraph!)
Then I needed some images in order to complete and embellish the contents. Running the MacOS programs at disposal on my PowerBook G3  helped me create very simple computer design to convert onto .GIF or .JPG files, and put them into a <img src=> markups. Upload!
Today www.dmlr.org is always updated on the basis of those HTML fundamentals. The site is visible even on modern devices such as smart phones and tablets. Download!
So I started a 25-year-long Web publishing based on my own engagement and knowledge. Marketing or pastime? I would say true homework.

P.S. Some useful tips on F.A.Q.

 [25 on-line]


August, 1997. For the first time I was going to publish the Web pages uploaded into a personal space whose URL sounded as long as
http://space.tin.it/economia/rdondi ...
necessary to classify the project Direct Marketing Linked Resources as accurate as possible! The acronym/domain, www.dmlr.org, will come later, five years after the starting point.
One could consider lost forever those primordial Web pages featuring that beginning site, but they were really crawled and saved 19 times by the WayBack Machine, a service of the Internet Archive (web.archive.org). In this huge digital library of Internet sites one could retrieve the DMLR-project hosted with its original Web design and contents.
Yeah, a long long time are 25 years ago!

P.S. Here D.M.L.R. newsletter Number 0 as published on August 22nd, 1997.


It's (always) Friday

I was born at 314.81 ppm CO².
It is now 419.05 ppm.
Since I was born, the atmosphere CO² has increased by 33%.
350 ppm is the 'safe level' of carbon dioxide.
The debate wich ensued from the F.F.F. movement is in its scope an epitome of the safeguard of life on this planet. The theme—there's not a planet B!—the activists are engaged on the loftiest and most vital.
Global pressure group. Direct actions and peaceful protests. Trying to hamper environmentally damaging activities and laws that businesses and governments are selling as social responsibility but are just patterns of their marketing communications and public greenwash.

P.S. What does F.F.F. stand for? FridaysForFuture.org



Champions of Sport (pt.IV)

Early in the Seventies I began swimming regularly. I didn't really like all that moving through the lane backward and forward without a break, the demanding trainer's voice coming down from the pool borders.
So I was learning that I could be a good swimmer. I had a preference for the backstroke. My subject was a champion of this style of swimming I had seen during the 1972 Olympic games: Roland Matthes.
Then middle-school boy I started the study of German as foreign language. Stark Verben... schwimmen - schwam - geschwommen. At the Olympics Matthes won four gold medals for D.D.R., acronym for Deutsche Demokratische Republik. Fläche: 108,000 qkm, Wohnbevölkerung: 17 Mio, Haupstadt: Berlin (Ost).
Geography matters. Oder-Neiße is a line formed by rivers. Borders. Here and there. The Wall of Berlin was firmly in effect and I knew well enough the difference between West- and East-Germany.
I owed a DDR-pin, received by a middelman selling tractors onto eastern Europe. Hammer, Zirkel und Ährenkranz. I wear it when I'm going to enjoy summer weather in open-air swimming pool. To pay tribute to Matthes!

PS. Vom Wasser haben wir's gelernt, vom Wasser.


Bookmark (pt.V)

My vademecum to Venice ain't just a guidebook. But an urbanist essay.
From its title, il problema di Venezia, the book caught something problematic of Venice: its chances of survival besides industrial and residential centres like Marghera and Mestre. Written by Pietro Zambetti, published by Sansoni Scuola aperta (1976), ITL 4,000.
That miracle called Venice until the 1973 special law. Venetian doge. A power struggle between state, region and local government. The most remarkable urbanization fact on this planet became a problem! Multiple voices against the modernization of Venice and its lagoon, including the letter by Le Corbousier on the historical centre safeguard. Forgotten. No fear of big cruise liners coming up here. Brown waters, seabirds screaming. Looking the channel from Molino Stucky. Venetian red.
Inside the book I preserve a precious city plan highlighting all the lagoon navigation services. A personal find of my 1983 long stay in Venice.




How many times did I return here? Venice is a kind of reassuring. First brief journey with my parents. Nine months during the military service period, at the main every evening leave. Some times with the fiancée: Orpheus to the underworld. The Phoenix theater before burning itself. Life, love, voyage around your own little world... Bevies of Spanish tourists prevail this round. For I have come back, it's June. Nothing new under the sun. Maybe I'm changed. Stop to that habitual pilgrimage to a noisy place of San Marco, please! Turning to the Fondamenta Nuove. Take the steamer, line no. 13, for leaving Venice but remaining inside its complex lagoon: final destination #Sant'Erasmo. Enjoy nature now. Towards S. Michele, the cemetery: people afraid of the death. Me too? The body feels the atmosphere, perhaps it would like to be relocated here. I shall leave my anticipated dispositions. But do they respect that? Meanwhile see Murano lighthouse from the platform: people afraid of the dark. Going on by water through stripes of plain land. Barene they call. Rising and falling tide. Every six hours. Salt in the Venetian damp. After steamer walk of five miles. Best spot to grow the plants, Orto di Venezia.
P.S. Venice is unique, www.veneziaunica.it.



I have been regular blood donor for twenty years (1980-2000).
Giving about 15,000cc of A+ blood at the local voluntary association, nationally known as #A.V.I.S. . Today is the World Blood Donor Day—the Telegram.org official channel of the Ministry of Health reports—and I wanted to remember that commitment by just a telegram.

PS. Because loss of blood bag is a gain!


To be continued...

I like to express some thoughts from this long-run blog. On the previous B-side vol.X you might retrieve articles, stories and posts, all available in Italian too. Otherwise just type in the search-box down here any keyword terms or phrases to optimize your own time on www.dmlr.org!

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