((°}

"O, to gaze upon thy blade A weapon forged in Durham's... er... *checks the book* ... slade.  Even poets of old needed help from time to time—a way to find the word that rhymed in just the right way. In 1570, Englishman Peter Levins compiled the world's first-known rhyming dictionary, a tome that organized Middle English by the words' last syllables. Known as the Manipulus Vocabulorum, a reprint was issued in 1867 by the Camden Society. The Manipulus was no mere scholarly pursuit; it was a practical reference book, meant to be used by poets, says the Public Domain Review quoting from the book's introduction: “It is necessarie for makers of meeter, so that it seemeth not only to redy him that maketh, but also to give him the way to learne the arte of the same” Unfortunately for Levins, the dictionary's editor, the book proved to be more work than he'd bargained for, says Henry B. Wheatley, Secretary of the Early English Text Society in the preface of the 1867 re-release: This book, like all works of the kind appears to have given the author greater labour than he expected, in collecting the materials. “For the gather of oure Englishe wordes, and deividing of the same into this alphabet order of the last sillabls being a trade not of any man afore attempted, or by the other Dictionaries, anything to recken up helped and furthered, must needs be a long travaile” Levins may have had his work cut out for him in 1570, but we're glad he took it on. Now we know exactly which words best pair with “Horseleach.” (We like “Ouerreache.”)" - ((°}

... - mumucs GOLUB POBA

Ubik, alla coglioneria umana non c'è limite (anche se nel caso di oggi non penso proprio siano stati stagionali, ma cretini comuni annoiati) - ((°}

ma lolloni. http://avherald.com/h... - Craiv

l'idiosincrasia spagnola per l'inglese ha dell'incredibile, ce ne fosse uno capace di parlarlo (in ambito ICT era un massacro comunicare con vendor o clienti spagnoli. soprattutto coi vendor) (mi sa che rispolvero la certificazione e vado a guadagnarmi il pane da quelle parti) - ((°}

"In a development which will probably have him running to the mirror yet again to search anxiously for lines, this year the metrosexual leaves his teens and turns 20. How quickly your children grow up. Although it seems only yesterday, I first wrote about him in 1994 after attending an exhibition organised by GQ magazine called "It’s a Man’s World". I’d seen the future of masculinity and it was moisturised. "Metrosexual man, the single young man with a high disposable income, living or working in the city (because that’s where all the best shops are) is perhaps the most promising consumer market of the decade," I predicted. QUIZ: Are you a spornosexual? Two decades of increasingly out and proud – and highly lucrative – male vanity later, and the metrosexual remains the apple of consumerism’s rapacious eye. In a recent report, HSBC drooled all over his "Yummy"-ness, pointing out how mainstream metrosexuality has become. Related Articles If this is what spornosexual means, then God help us all 12 Jun 2014 Spornosexuality: an evolutionary step backwards for men 12 Jun 2014 Quiz: Are you a spornosexual? 11 Jun 2014 UK's 'vainest man': no model for manliness 08 May 2014 How men have become more vain 10 May 2014 Is growing old naturally back in fashion for men? 04 Jun 2014 Meantime Brewing: A head for distinctive beers HSBC This was of course old news to anyone with eyes to see the extremely image-conscious and product-consuming men around them – or in bed with them. Or the way that the glistening pecs and abs of men’s health and fitness magazines have been outselling the "lads' mags" for several years. Or indeed anyone who saw the news last year that men in the UK now spend more on shoes than women. From the perspective of today's fragranced, buffed, ripped, groomed, selfie-adoring world, it's hard to believe that the metrosexual had to struggle to be heard in the early 1990s. Most people were in "New-Lad" denial back then about what was happening to men and why they were taking so long in the bathroom. Metrosexual 2.0: rugby player turned model Thom Evans (Photo: D Hedral) Just as male homosexuality was still stigmatised and partly criminalised back then, the male desire to be desired – the self-regarding heart of metrosexuality – was scorned by many. Narcissism was seen as being essentially feminine, or Wildean – and look what happened to him. The trials of Oscar Wilde, the last dandy, at the end of the 19th Century helped stamp a Victorian morality over much of the 20th century. Male vanity was at best womanish – at worst, perverted. The end of the 20th century, the abolition of the last laws discriminating against male homosexuality, and arrival of the preening dominance of celebrity culture with its Darwinian struggle to be noticed in a visual, "branded" world finally blew away the remnants of Victorianism. READ: Why Britain's 'vainest man' is no model for manliness To illustrate this, I only have to say two words: David Beckham, the working-class England footballer who became more globally famous for his attention-seeking haircuts, unabashed prettiness and rampant desire to be desired than for his footballing skills. Once the sari-wearing midfielder was outed in 2002 (by me again, sorry) as the ultimate metrosexual, everyone suddenly "got it". All that Nineties denial turned into incessant Noughties chatter about metrosexuals and "male grooming". But still people failed to understand what was really going on with men. In fact, the momentous nature of the masculine revolution that metrosexuality represents has been largely obscured by much of the superficial coverage it got. Metrosexuality is, in a paradox that Wilde would have relished, not skin deep. It’s not about facials and manbags, guyliner and flip flops. It’s not about men becoming "girly" or "gay". It’s about men becoming everything. To themselves. Just as women have been encouraged to do for some time. This uptake by men of products, practises and pleasures previously ring-fenced for women and gay men is so normal now – even if we still need to be reassured with the word "man" or "guy" emblazoned on the packaging, like a phallic pacifier – that it’s taken for granted by young men today who really have become everything. So much so that it can be too much for the older generation of metrosexuals. With their painstakingly pumped and chiselled bodies, muscle-enhancing tattoos, piercings, adorable beards and plunging necklines it’s eye-catchingly clear that second-generation metrosexuality is less about clothes than it was for the first. Eagerly self-objectifying, second generation metrosexuality is totally tarty. Their own bodies (more than clobber and product) have become the ultimate accessories, fashioning them at the gym into a hot commodity – one that they share and compare in an online marketplace. This new wave puts the "sexual" into metrosexuality. In fact, a new term is needed to describe them, these pumped-up offspring of those Ronaldo and Beckham lunch-box ads, where sport got into bed with porn while Mr Armani took pictures. Let's call them "spornosexuals". But unlike Beckham's metrosexual ads of old, in which his attributes were possibly artificially enhanced, today’s spornosexuals have photoshopped themselves in real life. Think Towie's Dan Osborne in a pair of glittery Speedos (and then have a lie down.) Glossy magazines cultivated early metrosexuality. Celebrity culture then sent it into orbit. But for today’s generation, social media, selfies and porn are the major vectors of the male desire to be desired. They want to be wanted for their bodies, not their wardrobe. And certainly not their minds. I suspect Wilde might have approved" - ((°}

c'è anche il pratico quiz: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men... - ((°}

cazzo ero appena diventato metrosessuale - tepepa

"You are a 20th century male. You don’t read men’s lifestyle magazines so you probably have no idea how outdated you really are but, if this quiz has raised any concerns, try borrowing some moisturiser from a metrosexual friend/colleague before attempting to go full sporno." Grazie a Dio. - Ubikindred

"Chinese banking regulator Li Jianhua literally worked himself to death. After 26 years of “always putting the cause of the party and the people” first, his employer said in June, the 48-year-old official died of a heart attack rushing to finish a report before the sun came up. China is facing an epidemic of overwork, to hear the state-controlled press and Chinese social media tell it. About 600,000 people a year die from toiling too hard, according to the China Youth Daily. State-controlled China Radio International puts the toll at 1,600 a day. Microblogging website Sina Weibo (WB) is filled with complaints about stressed-out lives and chatter about press reports of people working themselves to death: a 24-year-old employee at Ogilvy Public Relations Worldwide, a 25-year-old auditor at PricewaterhouseCoopers, a designer of fighter planes. “What’s the point of working overtime so you can work to death?” asks a Weibo user, noting that his own boss told employees to spend more time on the job. Weibo Angela Pan's Weibo page The state, however, is holding up worked-to-death employees as heroes akin to earlier Communist martyrs such as Lei Feng, a soldier in the People’s Liberation Army who’s been lionized in propaganda campaigns since the 1960s for his selfless devotion to the party. Li’s employer released a statement on June 10 praising him as “a model for party members and cadres of the China Banking Regulatory Commission.” It said that to “learn from Comrade Li Jianhua, one must be like him, always firm in ideals and beliefs, the broader interest, loyal to the cause of the party and the people, unremitting struggle sacrificing everything.” Because the link between these deaths and work-related stress may not always be clear, the death toll can be subjective and difficult to compile. Death from overwork is as much a cultural phenomenon as a medical one, though the governments of Japan and Taiwan officially recognize cases for insurance compensation. The actual underlying causes of death encompass a wide range of illnesses such as heart attack or stroke that are aggravated by the stress of overtime. In the U.S., people don’t die from overwork, even though the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention say heart disease is the leading cause of death, and studies have linked sitting too long to an early death. Americans work an average of 45 hours a year more than the Japanese, according to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development. In China, white-collar worries about overwork reflect a tipping point in economic development. The Chinese service sector has eclipsed manufacturing in terms of economic output, while factory workers are taking advantage of their shrinking numbers to negotiate shorter hours and better pay. Office workers are still paid more than factory hands but have few of the protections a union can offer. They have bigger bills to pay for housing and cars. There is also demographic pressure: China’s one-child policy has created a generation of only children supporting aging parents and their own families. In exchange for starting salaries that are typically double blue-collar pay, office workers put in hours of overtime often in violation of Chinese labor law, according to Geoffrey Crothall, spokesman for the China Labour Bulletin, a Hong Kong-based labor advocacy group. “China is still a rising economy, and people are still buying into that hardworking ethos,” says Jeff Kingston, director of Asian Studies at the Japan campus of Temple University in Tokyo. “They haven’t yet achieved the ‘affluenza’ that led to questioning in Japan of norms and values.” In Japan, death from overwork is called karoshi. (In China it’s guolaosi.) Karoshi includes deaths from stroke, heart attack, cerebral hemorrhage, or other sudden causes related to the demands of the job. In 2012, the Japanese government compensated 813 families who were able to show a link between overwork, illness, and death, including 93 suicides. The Parliament passed a law on June 20 calling for support centers, aid to businesses for prevention programs, and more research on karoshi. Work-life balance still gets short shrift in China, a society that combines a modern pursuit of riches with an ancient belief in putting the community above the individual, says Yang Heqing, dean of the School of Labor Economics at the Capital University of Economics and Business. In Beijing’s business district, he’s surveyed hundreds of workers about their lives at home and at the office. Sixty percent of workers complain of clocking more than the legal limit of two hours a day of overtime, which is taking a toll on their families and health, he says. “More than in the Anglo-American corporate system, in Korea, China, and Japan—the countries of the Confucian belt—there’s a belief in total dedication,” says Temple University’s Kingston. “Any job worth doing is worth doing excessively.” Li ran the division of the China Banking Regulatory Commission (CBRC) that’s overseeing the boom in trust products, investments considered part of an estimated $6.2 trillion shadow banking system that officials have sought to bring under government control. He traveled to 10 provinces in the second half of 2013 and met with all 68 trust companies. Employees in Li’s department regularly worked until midnight or later, according to a colleague who asked not to be identified because he’s not authorized to speak publicly. Li’s death, categorized as the result of “long-term overwork” by the CBRC, was the latest in a string of cases that have attracted media attention. Angela Pan, a PricewaterhouseCoopers auditor in Shanghai, wrote on her personal blog about working through weekends, needing a vacation, and suffering from fevers, according to the official Xinhua News Agency. A colleague in her Beijing office said employees were given tasks “impossible to finish without overtime.” Pan’s death drew more than 30,000 comments on Weibo from users attributing her death to overwork, Xinhua said. A statement by PricewaterhouseCoopers at the time of her 2011 death said Pan, a first-year associate, had contracted encephalitis and taken sick leave to check into a hospital, where she later died. Gabriel Li, the Ogilvy employee who worked in the technology department of the agency’s Beijing office, died in May 2013, crying out and keeling over as he stood up from his desk on his first day back from medical leave, according to a report in the Beijing Times. Ogilvy’s Asia-Pacific Chief Executive Officer Scott Kronick declined to comment. In earlier decades of the Communist Party’s rule, those lucky enough to land office jobs at sprawling state-owned enterprises were guaranteed cradle-to-grave employment, housing, even food and schooling for their children. Two-hour lunches often sweetened the deal. Those perks disappeared as China opened the door to capitalism in the 1980s and inefficient enterprises shed jobs and benefits to compete. Now cubicle jockeys such as Li toil overtime, have long commutes, and regularly dine out with clients. The death of Luo Yang, called the father of China’s fighter-jet program, prompted questions about the country’s work ethic. He died at 51 of a heart attack on the same day in 2012 that the plane he developed, the J-15, made its first successful landing on an aircraft carrier. “We only know of the sacrifice of Luo Yang, but we don’t know how many other people on his team died of overwork—isn’t it because of such admirable workers that the nation has reached its current status?” wrote a Weibo blogger who goes by Ordinary Yang MS. Li never discussed his personal problems with colleagues, according to the CBRC. In early April his doctor noticed some unusual symptoms, including excess blood flow to the eye, and suggested he go to the hospital for a checkup; Li “smiled and said he didn’t have any time,” the Chinese Financial News said. He’d been up late at home and “collapsed while working, suddenly dying in the early morning of April 23,” the CBRC statement read. When Li’s wife tried to notify his office about his death, she didn’t know anyone to call despite his years on the job. She had to find someone to pass along the message, says another person at the agency who declined to give his name because he isn’t authorized to speak publicly. The CBRC didn’t respond to questions about the trust department’s working hours or Li’s death. “At some point,” says Crothall of the China Labour Bulletin, “someone is going to stop and ask the question: ‘Why are we doing this to ourselves?’”" - ((°}

ah ah noi ce lo diciamo sempre che il nostro capo morira' al bancone mentre fa un esperimento (tra l'altro non sembra affatto una persona sana, anzi) - Meandthebay

sarà un fatto culturale o è solo pazzo? - ((°}

"Louis Zamperini, a onetime Olympic runner who survived 47 days on a raft in the Pacific and two years as a Japanese prisoner during World War II, and whose story was retold in the best-selling biography “Unbroken,” died July 2 in Los Angeles. He was 97. The cause was pneumonia, his family said in a statement. Mr. Zamperini wrote about his wartime ordeal in two memoirs, but it wasn’t until 2010, when Washington author Laura Hillenbrand published “Unbroken,” that Mr. Zamperini’s harrowing story captured the public’s imagination. A film about his life, directed by Angelina Jolie, is scheduled to be released Christmas Day. “Rarely,” author Gary Krist wrote in his review of “Unbroken” in The Washington Post, “has a single man had to endure such an extraordinary array of woes.” Even before his experiences during the war, Mr. Zamperini had led a remarkable life. In the 1930s, he was of the best distance runners in the world and was considered a threat to become the first person to break the four-minute barrier in the mile. Don Lash, left, Louis Zamperini, center, and Thomas Deckard, who represented the United States in the 1936 Olympic Games in the 5,000 meter team. (Uncredited/AP) He competed in the 5,000-meter run in the 1936 Olympic Games in Berlin and was considered a favorite in the 1940 Olympics, which were scheduled for Tokyo but never took place because of World War II. Instead, Mr. Zamperini enlisted in the Army Air Forces and became a bombardier on B-24 Liberators in the Pacific. On May 27, 1943, he and the rest of his crew were on a search-and-rescue mission 800 miles from Hawaii when the aircraft developed mechanical problems and dived nose first into the ocean. He was one of three crew members to survive the crash. Trapped under water and wrapped in torn coils of electrical wire, Mr. Zamperini found his bearings when his class ring from the University of Southern California caught on a piece of metal. He was able to swim out of the wreckage as it drifted toward the ocean floor. He and the other crew members climbed into a rubber life raft that had few provisions. As they drifted in the open sea, they improvised ways to capture rainwater. Mr. Zamperini fashioned the pin of his lieutenant’s insignia into a fishhook, with little success. Sharks circled the small inflatable raft, which sprang leaks as the rubber weakened under the relentless sun. One day, a Japanese warplane strafed their lonely craft, forcing them to dive into the water with the sharks. The three castaways survived by catching birds with their bare hands and using the entrails for fish bait. When a tern landed on the raft, “Louie was so famished that he went at it with his teeth, ripping the feathers loose and spitting them out in whuffs,” Hillenbrand wrote in “Unbroken.” “Almost immediately, he felt a crawling sensation on his chin. The tern had been covered in lice, which were now hopping over his face.” 1 of 107 Notable deaths of 2014 A look at those who have died this year. From a college physiology course, Mr. Zamperini recalled that the brain was a muscle that could atrophy from disuse. He and his fellow airmen told stories about their lives and repeatedly sang “White Christmas” to an empty ocean. In place of regular meals, they recalled their favorite foods in elaborate detail. “Louie began describing a dish, and all three men found it satisfying, so Louie kept going,” Hillenbrand wrote, “telling them about each dish in the greatest possible detail. Soon, [his mother’s] kitchen floated there with them: Sauces simmered, spices were pinched and scattered, butter melted on tongues. “So began a thrice-daily ritual on the raft, with pumpkin pie and spaghetti being the favorite subjects.” After 33 days, one of the three crew members died. Mr. Zamperini and the other survivor, Russell Allen Phillips, improvised a funeral ceremony and buried him at sea. They stayed afloat for an additional 14 days, through rainstorms that stirred up 40-foot waves and nearly capsized their tiny raft. Mr. Zamperini and Phillips were within sight of an island when a Japanese motorboat pulled alongside their raft. The emaciated Americans were taken captive at gunpoint, their hands bound behind their backs. Mr. Zamperini, who stood 5-foot-9 and weighed about 160 pounds when his flight took off May 27, had shrunk to about 80 pounds. He and Phillips were shipped to separate POW camps. (Phillips survived the war and died in 1998.) Adrift for 47 days, they are believed to have survived the longest time at sea without provisions. By strange chance, a Japanese officer at one of the camps had studied at the University of Southern California and recognized Mr. Zamperini. The Japanese thought a star athlete would have propaganda value, but Mr. Zamperini refused to denounce his country. He was then subjected to almost daily torture from a sadistic guard he called “the Bird.” In the meantime, Mr. Zamperini was officially declared dead, and his parents received a letter of condolence from President Franklin D. Roosevelt. After the Japanese surrendered in August 1945, Mr. Zamperini and 700 other prisoners were released. They knew they were free when a U.S. plane flew over the prison, and the pilot dropped a small package from the cockpit. It contained a pack of cigarettes and a chocolate bar. The prisoners sliced the chocolate bar into 700 slivers, giving each man a faint taste of freedom. Louis Silvie Zamperini was born Jan. 26, 1917, in Olean, N.Y., and moved with his family to Torrance, Calif., in 1920. His parents spoke Italian at home, and young Louie, as he was called, didn’t learn English until he went to school. He had a troubled childhood and was smoking by age 5 and drinking at 8. He seemed headed for a life of delinquency when his older brother, a champion miler, encouraged him to start running. Known as the “Torrance Tornado,” Mr. Zamperini won the 1934 California state championship in the mile with a time of 4 minutes, 21.8 seconds — a national high school record that stood for 19 years. In 1936, he won a spot on the U.S. Olympic team in the 5,000 meter-race. He was 19 at the time — still the youngest U.S. male runner ever to compete at that distance in the Olympics. At the “Hitler Olympics” in Berlin, Mr. Zamperini was near the back of the pack when he decided to sprint the race’s final lap at top speed. He ran the final 400 meters of the race in a remarkable 56 seconds to finish in eighth place. Afterward, he was invited to greet Hitler, who said, “Ah, you’re the boy with the fast finish.” At USC, Mr. Zamperini won two national championships in the mile and in 1938 set an NCAA record at 4:08.3, the fifth-fastest mile in history at the time. His collegiate record stood until the 1950s. After the war, Mr. Zamperini was reunited with his family in California and, in 1946, married Cynthia Applewhite. He struggled with alcohol and was haunted by painful memories until his wife took him to a revival meeting led by evangelist Billy Graham in 1949. “It was the first night in two years and a half that I didn’t have a nightmare,” Mr. Zamperini told CBS News in 2012, “and I haven’t had one since.” He quit drinking and smoking and became a devout follower of Graham’s. He spent many years working in real estate and coaching track in California and founded a camp for troubled youth and became an motivational speaker, often addressing military groups about his imprisonment. His wife died in 2001. Survivors include two children and several grandchildren. He returned to Japan many times over the years as a gesture of friendship and forgiveness. His onetime guard, “the Bird,” refused to meet with him despite Mr. Zamperini ‘s repeated entreaties. Before the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan, Mr. Zamperini carried the Olympic torch, cheered at every step by a new generation of Japanese." - ((°}

altro che 'vita di Pi' - ((°}

http://www.nytimes.com/2014... - ((°}

Wearable technology conquers the final frontier with KGoal, a device to help women the world over exercise their pelvic floor muscles better… the KGoal Smart Kegel Trainer can monitor pelvic floor exercise with real-time feedback. Photograph: Minna Life It can already stream the internet straight to your face, vibrate around your waist when you're slouching and track your health using only your wrist. Now, wearable technology is getting even more intimate and attempting to conquer the final frontier: the vagina. Recently launched on Kickstarter, the KGoal Smart Kegel Trainer, produced by San Fransisco-based sexual health startup Minna Life, describes itself as a “Fitbit for your vagina,” an interactive device to guide, measure and track pelvic floor muscle exercise. It takes the form of a squeezable silicone pillow, connected to a smartphone app, that measures your “clench strength” and feeds the data back to a smartphone app via Bluetooth. It also has an internal motor for “real time vibrational biofeedback.” “Pelvic floor muscles are one of the most important, yet least appreciated, parts of the body,” says the product's designer, Grace Lee, in the promotional video. “But many people never think about exercising them.” Running from the pubic bone to the base of the spine, the sling-shaped muscles hold the bladder and urethra in place, controlling urination. Critically important during and after pregnancy, they can often be damaged during childbirth, leading to incontinence and reduced pleasure during sex. “30% of women need direct feedback to perform a pelvic floor muscle contraction correctly,” says the company's pelvic floor specialist Liz Miracle. “People come to me and say 'I didn't do my exercises because I couldn't see what was happening and I didn't know what was going on,' so they often just give up.” By flashing its pink light, vibrating and charting your progress on the app – soon to come complete with games – the KGoal aims to change all that. “It's like having a gym, a physical therapist and a tracking system in the palm of your hand,” says Lee. Or inside your vagina, as the case may be. The biggest challenge in developing the product was “fine-tuning the human interface and ergonomics of the device,” Minna Life's appropriately named Jon Thomas told Wired. “By that I mean the product shape and feel. Because KGoal must fit a wide variety of anatomies, it was a challenge to make the product both functional and comfortable across the full spectrum of our users.” - ((°}

(comunque volevo dire alla signora o signorina Grace Lee che "yet least appreciated” mi sembra un'affermazione molto triste e poco rispondente al vero) - ((°}

una delle tante cose che accomuna Puglia e Sardegna. - Haukr

il callonimine è uniformemente diffuso ad ogni latitudine e longitudine :( - ((°}

forse l'unica, tie' - reloj

signor pieghini lasci stare le bacche rigurgitate e s'accatti questi - ((°}

esatto, andava fatto così... se no stile fondente cacao 70% - PepperFriendFindForever

"Unprecedented numbers are risking their lives to reach Europe, and local authorities in coastal communities where they land are struggling to cope. Lizzy Davies reports from Catania while photographer Massimo Sestini accompanied the Italian navy on its rescue missions earlier this month, offering a rare up-close glimpse of the men, women and children who make the dangerous trip to start a new life" - ((°}

"Prince Bony non avrebbe mai immaginato di traversare il deserto e il mare e trovarsi a fare lo stesso lavoro che faceva al suo paese. Seduto davanti a un casolare abbandonato, vestigia della riforma agraria, guarda l’orizzonte e riflette sulla propria vita. Prince divide questa dimora di fortuna con una decina di altri lavoratori stagionali ghanesi. Senza documenti, senza soldi, senza prospettive, hanno trovato rifugio qui, in mezzo alla campagna, in questo gruppuscolo di ruderi che per un’ironia del destino si chiama “Borgo Libertà”. «In Ghana, mi chiamavano Kofi America, perché ho sempre desiderato viaggiare. Volevo conquistare il mondo!» Prince Bony - Lavoratore stagionale ghanese Intabarrato in un vecchio cappotto liso, Prince guarda con aria assorta il sole che tramonta all’orizzonte. Poi dice una sola parola: «Il pomodoro». Il suo volto si illumina di una luce velata di tristezza non appena la pronuncia. «Anche a Navrongo, la mia città, coltivavamo pomodori!». I campi di pomodori, una volta rigogliosi di frutti, oggi sono deserti. I produttori hanno cambiato colture o abbandonato le terre. Campi deserti Navrongo - Nord del Ghana Lungo la strada che porta da Tamale a Navrongo, le piramidi di pomodoro vacillano al passaggio dei camion carichi di casse vuote, lanciati a tutta velocità lungo l’asse che unisce il Nord e il Sud del Ghana. Il rumore dei motori, l’ululare dei clacson, lo sbatacchiare dei rimorchi copre le urla delle donne che sul ciglio della strada mettono in bella mostra i rossi ortaggi per venderli. Ma invano: il pomodoro fresco non lo compra più nessuno. Tra i baracchini del mercato, le venditrici si lamentano. Nei loro panieri, i pomodori succosi finiscono per guastarsi e marcire. I clienti non vogliono più prodotti freschi, ma solo scatole di Salsa, Gino e Obaapa, marche di pomodoro concentrato importate dall’Italia o dalla Cina. «In tutti i piatti ghanesi, c’è del pomodoro. Ma il pomodoro prodotto qui non si vende più». Ayine Justice Atomsko, capo della piccola comunità agricola di Vea, ha il tono amaro di chi ricorda un’altra epoca. Solo vent’anni fa, la coltura del pomodoro era florida in questa regione del nord del Ghana. Tutti i contadini ne coltivavano qualche ettaro, con la garanzia di riuscire a venderli a buon prezzo. «Ormai non coltivo più pomodori. Non saprei a chi venderli» Aolja Tenitia - ex contadina dell’anno 2007 Ma all’inizio degli anni 2000, la manna si è trasformata in maledizione. L’esperienza fallita della fabbrica di trasformazione di Pwalugu, la concorrenza del vicino Burkina Faso, e soprattutto l’arrivo di un’ondata di importazioni di pomodoro in scatola dall’Italia e dalla Cina hanno distrutto i sogni dei contadini della Upper East Region. «Siamo stati traditi», tuona Aolja Tenitia, che nel 2007 era stata nominata “contadina dell’anno” dal governo e ricevuta con tutti gli onori ad Accra al ministero dell’agricoltura e poi alla televisione di stato. All’epoca, aveva un campo florido. Oggi pratica un’agricoltura di pura sopravvivenza. Sfiancati dai debiti, dopo aver investito tutti i propri risparmi nei semi, nei fertilizzanti e nelle terre, alcuni produttori di pomodori disperati sono arrivati a suicidarsi nel 2007. La coltura del pomodoro poteva essere una miniera d’oro L’africa in scatola. Makola market, il mercato centrale di Accra – uno dei più grandi dell’Africa Occidentale – è il cuore commerciale della capitale. Un vero e proprio formicaio dove migliaia di venditori ambulanti si ammassano in un dedalo di stradine, ingombre di camion carichi di merci di ogni sorta. Dappertutto, baracchini di legno appaiono sommersi da rosse scatole di pomodoro, sapientemente sistemate dalle venditrici. “Gino”, “Salsa”, “Fiorini”, le marche sono un concentrato d’Italia. Il marchio funziona per il pomodoro: anche il prodotto cinese “Gino” ostenta il tricolore italiano sulla scatola per attirare clienti. «Prima vendevo zuppe e ortaggi freschi. Oggi, i clienti comprano solo barattoli» Agnes Sewa - Venditrice ambulante «Questa scatola di Gino è quella che si vende di più, ma anche la Salsa va forte», spiega Agnes Sewa, una venditrice davanti al suo piccolo baracchino colorato. Nel corso degli anni, Agnes ha visto a poco a poco scomparire le montagne di frutta e verdura fresca dal mercato, rimpiazzati da scatole di conserve importate dal mondo intero. Per Philip Ayamba, direttore del Community Self Reliance Center, organizzazione vicina ai produttori di pomodoro, il governo avrebbe dovuto limitare la quantità di pomodoro concentrato proveniente dall’estero. «Se il mercato fosse stato regolato, gli agricoltori avrebbero potuto beneficiare di prezzi migliori e avrebbero avuto un mercato in cui vendere i propri prodotti. Ma il governo ha fatto il contrario. Ha spalancato le porte del paese alle importazioni di pomodoro concentrato europeo. C’è una tale scelta e una tale quantità che è praticamente impossibile vendere i pomodori prodotti localmente». ESPORTAZIONI DI POMODORO CONCENTRATO DALL’ITALIA AL GHANA Migliaia di tonnellate di concentrato di pomodoro prodotto in Italia arrivano ogni anno in Ghana. Un'importazione che incide sul mercato del pomodoro locale. A partire dagli anni 2000, il governo di Accra ha ridotto i dazi doganali sulle importazioni di alcuni prodotti, fra cui il pomodoro concentrato, generando a medio termine un vero e proprio diluvio di prodotti esteri nei mercati locali. Ogni anno, il Ghana importa circa 50mila tonnellate di pomodoro concentrato. Un mercato succulento che l’Italia, già monopolista fino a circa dieci anni fa, si contende oggi con la Cina. Le massicce importazioni di concentrato di pomodoro dall’Europa hanno distrutto il mercato locale L’industria dell’oro rosso Nocera Superiore - Campania, Italia Nella fabbrica di lavorazione del concentrato “Salsa”, i barattoli piroettano lungo i binari con un frastuono assordante. Operai indaffarati al volante di muletti caricano pile di scatole di cartone su un container. «Questo parte domani per la Costa d’Avorio», spiega il direttore. «Quando mio padre ha fondato l’impresa nel 1968 produceva 10mila scatole al giorno. All’epoca era eccezionale», racconta Angelo D’Alessio, amministratore delegato di Cec Esportazioni. «In Africa, fino a vent’anni fa, il concentrato di pomodoro era esclusivamente italiano». Ancora oggi, l’impresa vive grazie al mercato africano. Tutta la produzione di questa fabbrica di Nocera Superiore, in provincia di Salerno, è esportata a sud del Mediterraneo. Grazie alla sua marca più importante, “Salsa”, la società ha un fatturato annuo che oscilla tra i 20 e i 30 milioni di euro. «L’Italia è il secondo trasformatore e conservatore mondiale di pomodoro dopo la California, in termini di quantità di prodotti freschi trasformati», si rallegra Giovanni de Angelis, direttore dell’ANICAV, associazione nazionale dei produttori industriali di conserve alimentari vegetali. Nel 2013, l’industria italiana di pomodoro trasformato ha esportato 1,127 milioni di tonnellate di conserve di pomodoro, per un fatturato di 846 milioni di euro, in un mercato in crescita dell’8,32% in un anno, secondo dati elaborati da Federalimentare. Le importazioni di concentrato di pomodoro italiano in Ghana hanno raggiunto il loro picco massimo nel 2007, con più di 29mila tonnellate. Tra i paesi esportatori di concentrato in Ghana, l’Italia è al secondo posto dopo la Cina. Il cuore di questo “business” si trova nel centro-sud, nella regione di Napoli nucleo strategico per la trasformazione e il commercio. Sui moli del porto partenopeo, container carichi di barattoli di pomodoro concentrato “made in Italy” partono ogni settimana per i quattro angoli del pianeta. La produzione agricola è stata invece delocalizzata in Puglia, dopo che i terreni dell’agro napoletano sono stati a poco a poco divorati da un’urbanizzazione rampante. La piana della Capitanata, intorno a Foggia, già luogo principe delle colture cerealicole, è oggi diventata la miniera dell’“oro rosso”. Nemmeno in Africa ho mai visto persone vivere e lavorare in tali condizioni In mezzo alle praterie giallastre della piana della Capitanata, che si estende tra le coste del mare Adriatico e le colline del Gargano, dei tir carichi di casse di pomodoro vanno a tutta velocità su strade male asfaltate in direzione di Napoli, sollevando nuvole di polvere. Un’atmosfera da Far West americano, che a poco a poco lascia spazio a uno scenario africano. In fila indiana, lavoratori stagionali ghanesi, maliani, senegalesi raggiungono i loro accampamenti, alla fine di una giornata di duro lavoro. Dalla fine di luglio alla metà di ottobre, sono migliaia a fare tappa nei campi del sud Italia per la stagione della raccolta di pomodori. Impiegati per lo più al nero, non sono pagati a ore, ma a cottimo. 3,5 euro ogni cassone di 300 chili, cioè meno di 20 euro al giorno, per un lavoro sfiancante. Senza contratto di lavoro, né copertura sanitaria e alla mercé dei “caporali” – gli intermediari tra lavoratori e datori di lavoro. Se hanno fame a metà giornata, sgranocchiano di nascosto un pomodoro. La sera, rientrano nel loro campo, dove hanno affittato un “posto letto”: un materasso all’aria aperta o in una baracca di fortuna. Gli “invisibili” delle campagne di raccolta sono migliaia in tutto il sud Italia. Quasi tutti privi di documenti, sono disposti a tutto pur di lavorare. «Neanche in Africa ho mai visto gente vivere e lavorare in tali condizioni», si indigna Yvan Sagnet, studente camerunese che ha organizzato nel 2010 il primo sciopero di lavoratori stagionali nei campi delle Puglie. Oggi lavora per la CGIL, principale sindacato italiano, per difendere i diritti dei lavoratori stagionali immigrati. L’Italia, terza agricoltura europea dopo la Francia e la Germania, si contende con la Spagna il primato nella produzione di ortaggi. Negli ultimi dieci anni, sulla base dei dati FAOSTAT, l’Italia ha prodotto in media 6 milioni di tonnellate di pomodori ogni anno. Secondo la FAO, l’ammontare medio degli aiuti europei al settore del pomodoro era nel 2001 di 45 euro alla tonnellata. Inoltre, secondo Oxfam, l’Unione europea sovvenziona la produzione totale di pomodoro in Europa per circa 34,5 euro a tonnellata; una sovvenzione che coprirebbe il 65% del prezzo di mercato del prodotto finale. Ma chi si rende conto a Bruxelles del paradosso di sovvenzionare un prodotto destinato all’esportazione, che fa dumping sulle produzioni locali in Africa? «Durante la stagione della raccolta dei pomodori, riesco a mandare un po' di soldi alla mia famiglia in Ghana. Ma non posso ripartire, né farli venire, né dire loro in che condizioni vivo qui» Prince Bony - Lavoratore stagionale ghanese La storia di Prince Bony è emblematica di questo meccanismo perverso. Seduto davanti alla sua casa fatiscente, che dovrà presto lasciare perché il tetto minaccia di crollare, non sa dove andrà per continuare il suo viaggio. Vero e proprio Sisifo dei tempi moderni, sembra condannato a raccogliere pomodori come il figlio di Eolo faceva rotolare la sua pietra verso la cima della montagna. Quello che Prince ignora è che il frutto del suo lavoro al nero, nei campi di pomodori del sud Italia, rischia di spingere a loro volta gli agricoltori dell’Upper East Region, nel nord del Ghana, ad abbandonare le loro terre. Quelle stesse terre che un tempo erano anche le sue." - ((°}

"Il 12 aprile 1961 Jurij Alekseevič Gagarin divenne il primo uomo a compiere un’orbita completa intorno alla Terra. Partito dal cosmodromo di Baikonur il suo viaggio a bordo della capsula Vostok 1 fu relativamente breve, solo un’ora e quarantotto minuti, ma diede inizio a un’impresa, quella del volo umano nello spazio, che continua ancora oggi. Chissà cosa deve aver provato il giovane cosmonauta di fronte a uno spettacolo mai visto prima: “Da quassù la Terra è bellissima –ha detto Gagarin - senza frontiere né confini.” Il viaggio della sua navicella andò come previsto, eseguendo un’orbita terrestre completa prima dell’accensione dei retrorazzi frenanti. Nulla fu lasciato al caso: nell’eventualità in cui ci fossero stati dei problemi, la Vostok 1 sarebbe comunque rientrata in atmosfera dopo circa dieci giorni grazie alla forza di attrito legata alla traiettoria scelta. Di conseguenza, le scorte di cibo, così come quelle di ossigeno e carburante furono calibrate in modo da garantire la sopravvivenza del giovane Gagarin, che ebbe comunque il tempo di assaggiare un po’ di cibo spaziale. Come ci racconta il giornalista aerospaziale Paolo D’Angelo, il primo spuntino spaziale della storia non fu particolarmente gustoso o invitante, ma servì comunque a dimostrare che un essere umano è in grado di deglutire e quindi in grado di mangiare anche in assenza di peso. Il cosmonauta consumò il cibo contenuto in tre tubetti, simili a quelli per il dentifricio: due contenenti una purea di carne e uno con una crema di cioccolato. Dopo questo primo importante momento i pasti per gli astronauti sono diventati via via sempre più sofisticati:  dalle missioni Mercury, Gemini e Apollo fino al moderno bonus food di Argotec, studiato appositamente per ogni astronauta europeo. La successiva missione Vostok 2, con a bordo German Stepanovič Titov, fu molto più lunga, per un totale di 17 orbite in circa 25 ore. Anche in questo caso fu prevista una scorta di cibo da consumare a bordo, ma l’astronauta Titov fu anche la prima persona ad avere il cosiddetto “mal di spazio”, un malessere molto simile al mal di mare che può presentarsi quando l’organismo fatica ad adattarsi alle condizioni di assenza di peso. Le spedizioni proseguirono sino al giugno del 1963, quando si concluse la missione congiunta della Vostok 5 con laVostok 6, con a bordo rispettivamente i cosmonauti Valerij Fëdorovič Bykovskij e Valentina Vladimirovna Tereškova." - ((°}

e io che già immaginavo un duetto gagarin-lennon - ((°}

"piuttosto eccellenti". "piuttosto eccellenti". - ((°}

dopo l'editoriale di Scalfari con "do you can?" ci meritiamo il ciappuzzo del "piuttosto eccellenti" - ((°}