Saturday, November 24, 2007

How To Convert Jar File To Ipa File

C'aggia ago 'p' field '! - Part II (What will you be?)



Bel adolescence period, eh? For those who have lived good will was surely the ne plus ultra of life, of course! Not for me. Today I can even call me a fool for not being so clever years ago, to live with a little 'more than philosophy, and added that the maturity age is worse "imbufaliti hormones, but if I could choose to go back not to take advantage of this opportunity. How do I know? Perhaps you could even get worse! I'm not exactly one that could be described as blessed by luck and bad luck has no known limits, I might end up in an alternate reality to the one I had, in which all the laws of Murphy are pitched in my life! No, thanks. Better than nothing. At that time, the most gratifying moments were only those who worked at my favorite pastimes and, needless to say, the majority deal with the radio environment in which I had way to indulge my natural tendency to create. Although they have quickly realized that this was a great passion, I knew very intimately as a child. I had it encoded in DNA. The talk (do not know how many notes I caught in elementary school!), Social relations, the show for his teammates (not Communist!), Songs, and songs, observe and rework (even for the great passion parodies), finding the note comic in every circumstance that opens the way, invent ... dream! The dreamer! That's how I called the teacher! The only one on the last day of the fifth, the day after an examination of the general meeting, during the farewell speech of the teacher was left without batting an eyelash, charming and open-mouthed, lost in his words. I can not remember what I was thinking, but I remember how it was ... well ... as if they were twenty-two years ago (!), the teacher suddenly stopped to tell us what reality was that middle school and told me that if I held on for a while 'I open my mouth you would enter the flies! He went on: "The dreamer! When he published the first book I want a copy with the dedication. " Well, Ada, I can tell you now that you're not gone too far. I'm just a bit 'more disillusioned and angry, but always dream! And, while not publishing, I write as well! Phew, I digress forever! In short, my gray matter has always been a volcano in constant activity and inexhaustible. I always liked to design, build, put together to redo and undo. The Construction! Uuuuh how much I loved playing with building blocks! And those with the character on mica, those of lego so to speak! One where we find the workers, pilots, astronauts ... No, no! Those flat, rectangular and of all colors. We did what I wanted! Although in the end, the form that most often I take the whole, was to ship. And it was always different. So I did not want the "character on" if the ship changed shape, then the little man did not know where to seat them! And to be honest to the end, I've always disliked these men yellow always with a smile, that it is appropriate to say, on your face! Who knows, I might have a future as an architect or an aerospace engineer! Nope! Too little margin for error in the projects! It would have been unpleasant to go to jail for a school designed by me and collapsed on itself or cause the disintegration of a space capsule for a multiplication to decimals wrong!

- " Engineer Daron, the crew of Apollo Creed is dead because of an error! What he has to say in mitigation? "

-" And 'transactions with the point I really do not want to come! .

However, all the years to dream and imagine a future of creativity later proved to be unnecessary. I'd almost wasted! In fact (and footnote to 'add page unfortunately) my second mother, my fate was sealed: I had to get a diploma. Preferably from an accountant! Any ideas what I had on my mind, whatever they were (in fact neither she nor anyone else could know I always felt ashamed that gave himself as a thief to externalize my aspirations!) I would certainly brought out. The accounting! That means that I'd give you a bright future! Unemployment, for sure. But yes, maybe the mother (which is always the mother) is right. Studying is important. I can not put in what I want: I have a lifeline. Will I also fall back on something else! Five years and do not ask me how because I do not even know I had a diploma from an accountant in his hand. Well, I did everything after high school. Even a modicum of universities: case! (After six years as clerk and have remained unemployed, I also delivered pizzas! And I'm not joking.) But nothing that had anything to do with the double entry! Between ourselves: if I had never edited the company's budget, now I, the holder thereof, the President, Vice President, Chief Executive, the whole board of directors, finance staff all the way down to the receptionists and cleaners, we'd all be in jail for a series of crimes that range from accounting fraud, tax evasion and tax fraud, abuse in official records and fraudulent bankruptcy. Just a sneaky put that rule in the "creative financing" might save us. But who was going to think that someone would have taken only a few years later?
To disgrace, and this is what gives me the most regret not having had even the tiniest possibility of undertaking studies to develop my personal predispositions, I never could and at this point I think I'll ever see, if and how these would be been able to give me a living. And the question becomes more insistent in these recent years, I now see not so kid, because if I look back I consider to have been more appreciated for my accomplishments in advertising, design, as author or co-author of texts and so on. etc.. (Short for that now almost always annoying and almost useless as creativity), which are not as good or mediocre as a clerk in an office! Have you ever tried to think in paradoxes? As absurd? Have you ever surprised to think of something that has happened and ask how it would change your mind, if you had chosen to a fork in the road opposite the one on which you preferred to start you? If you had said or done something different from what you said in fact or reality?
I have.
many times.
And you know what is the problem? The problem is that when those times become too many, the thoughts remain the same, but change the name. They are called
regrets.

continue?

Thursday, November 15, 2007

School Spirit Sayings With Candy

C'aggia ago 'p' field '! - Part I (What will you be?)



When I was little I felt again the typical, usual, meaningless question that adults ask children to death, believing that you are talking about this and not with the idiot just as children: "What do you want to be?". What a bore! Here's what I thought he was being delivered Usually, boring, hackneyed, pedantic, "original" question. I was now a slave to impulses that led me to put social phobia: I was terrified by the possibility that, following my parents around, they run into someone you know to whom I would present and that they, having stupid smile as close as all'emiparesi calling card universal approval of the child so I could put the distressing question! Also because I never knew what to say! Besides, I was a child: a seven or eight years what the hell you know how you'd like to get the bread into adulthood!? When I grow up I will put the problem! Maybe I'll start thinking about the first superintendent of schools, maybe when I choose a training course in preparation for the working world! But while playing with the start of construction or appearance bim bam boom I can intrippare the head with a question like that! Only a few years later I began to understand what was the catch: Once when you're not small, no one asked what would you have most wanted to be great! The games have been made, as once the nuts were taken! For example I was fourteen I began to see the world through a completely different that chance, I would most likely able to clarify the ideas on the possible response to be given to whom I had grown the demand of questions ... But no one did more! At that age you perceive your child around in a less certainly, with a critical and a bit of cynicism never experienced before. E 'age witnessed frantic waaay hormones like frightened horses that run without precise goal in your body immersed in change (and what a change!). The age of first loves (and here, I'll specify). Abandoning his childhood, in fact, begin to evaluate what you see and hear about what you like or not, if you hate him or want to be in your future until the earth covers you, in short, you think of the stimuli rather natural that we lead even only by the imagination, where your talent is just venting. Fourteen years on, as I said, I do not remember why or wherefore, I jumped in head the ball acting. Become an actor? I! Thinking about ... If you do not mind I wanted to even the tables, how could I expect to recite the entire script theater!? And let's not hypocrisy: if an actor is not just a summit, if it is really good, recognized as such, followed by a significant result, or if he has the chance to work for the cinema, you may well forget to living with a discreet dignity. Zero = zero money
bread!
It 's a bit like those aspiring to writers, complain constantly about the vain search for a publisher that publishes even a shred of story, only to discover that they do not know where home is the subjunctive, have a clear conviction that the papal encyclical is consecutio temporis and that the than the double words are superfluous! No, no, no. "This is all wrong! This is all to remake "Ginettaccio would say (if he were alive!).
Occhèi beautiful dream ... the theater, but at fifteen he was already relegated among the things that I would never, ever made. Whatever I did grow up - I repeated to myself over the years to come - would be something that would have been committed my mind, drawn freely from my ideas, my imagination, my attitude to writing, from my ability to self-irony ... Basically I would like everyone to build on any of my talents properly trained if they had existed some ! Certainly I would not dedicated to anything that had anything to do with mathematics, calculations, statistics or any other occupation that had spared no room for the mind. Nothing that I would have locked up in day-
photocopy, in regulations to be followed to the letter, rules to be observed or rigid rules to remember. It goes without saying that many, then, were the hypothetical careers that precluded me (no professional soldier, no chance to banking ambitions, even in the presence of a staff recommendation for no mercy for the stamps and postal clerk from timbretti, no case law, nix factory worker and even outside a factory. What remains? Excluding crafts still repetitive and Midnight Cowboy ... Nothing).
One day a teacher of letters, after so many opportunities to talk (which he liked so much, were his weak point, and that I was an expert at provoking, lengthening the cazzeggiano thus releasing them from those of any Question!) tells me that with all the points read in my themes and ideas expressed in-depth classroom, I would see in a potential well academic career, no less than (ring the bells!) in political economy! SBREEENG! Economics? What the hell are you talking about Willis?!!? I did not know what to say in spite of my thoughts, many crowding in my mind, would want to turn into words an expression of disagreement with quell'illuminante total output of the teacher! I did not know what I wanted to do in the future, but certainly not economics! In short, I was. ... I was ... I was ... What the hell erooooo!? Me: "Prof, who do you pay for ideas, to put someone in the service of his own inspiration?" Prof: "Oh, no, but they are creative! Of poor people who need wait for inspiration to bring to a client a job as it should be! It is said that their idea to be promoted and then choose from those of other creative people who are usually called on "Azz ... what a mess! I was bound to be a poor man, because I felt just a ... I ... I was just ... a creative! Finally I came to know the name to give to my future! A CREATIVE! Woooow!

Location: desert. Framing the total camera dolly (the one on your arm to shoot from above. NdDaron) in long shot for me, all alone. Sound effects: the wind and the chirping of a cricket. Cepuglio a dry, rolling in and out of frame.

And now that I know what they are ...? But above all I'll do it for real ... the creative?


Continue .