Black Cooker Hoods
Warning! We had no definite information on the course of this year. Therefore, the dates are not reliable as calculated according to the review of last year. Before you travel you should contact the Public and / or organizers. Castiglion Fiorentino for Holy Week offers the sacred representation of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ. One of the most beautiful sacred representations counted among the many in Italy. To parade the streets at night several processions throughout the week, made up of three local companies: that of St. Anthony, whose brother parade with their faces covered by white hoods, the company of the Good Death, or Mercy, whose brothers wear black hoods and the Society of Jesus with blue hoods. According to the program every night of the week held an "act": the Tuesday of Holy Week procession with the statue of "Jesus in the Garden", on Wednesday, the procession with the statue of "Christ bound to the column" on Thursday evening , but only in even years, at the Theatre of cypress, the most salient representation of episodes from the Passion of Jesus, culminating in the Crucifixion, charming and full of holiness, with hundreds of people in costume and a silent and attentive audience. On Good Friday, finally, the procession through the streets of the town with all the beautiful wooden statues and ancient past of the processions alongside those of Madonna and the Dead Christ. On the night of Holy Saturday, during the Mass, it depicts the last act, the "Resurrection with the muzzle," which explodes with the joy of the Resurrection of Christ carried the statue "sprint" across the aisle to Central Collegiate in an impressive ceremony, while the lights of the church and rejoice the hearts of the faithful. Warning! We had no definite information on the course of this year. Therefore, the dates are not reliable as calculated according to the review of last year. Before you travel you should contact the Public and / or organizers. The publication of the comments is a tool to support those who visit the site and would like to attend this event. Please do not use this space to send notices (corrections, change requests, etc. . . . ) We do not publish anonymous comments and still no e-mail as "false" (the e-mail address will not be made public and sold to anyone). . . A thousand years ago, because, year over year younger, so we were not living. Or rather, we lived without much trouble and indifference. Not many saw mental to want to be more precise. There was more heart and desire to get things done. A thousand years ago the world had to end. Imagine the scene: almost midnight, people who meet in the streets, ringing of bells that spread to the streets stinky, crazy (?) Who recite the imminent end, scenes of madness and . . . . . . . . . . and a fucking tolls midnight and everyone at home, with the greatest disappointment of the group of suicide / martyrs / saints dressed in black hoods are ready to embrace the angels of the apocalypse. The priests of course those already knew, and had remained at their ease in the company of some kind of whore. The tavern drunk and fuck: tomorrow is another day. Today is not so, we have the new prophets beneinteso (Maria De Filippi? Berlusconi?) That fill the mouth of crap or just pandered to the popular mentality populist and unrealistic dell'assembramento of heterogeneity that we call Italy with impunity, but at least the first c ' was more pathos, more passion even say shit. Imagine the end of the world now, there would be even a scream, a scream, a someone who's tearing his hair. At least before we had people angry or fearful that he behaved like a herd of sheep, we now have people angry or scared that you watch the game. And sticazzi of the end of the world means, not the game. Unfortunately it's all about selfishness and carelessness of a mediocre reality is that while in scatafascio, change the channel. Indeed SCAI lights or digital. We live in everyday life, of aberration, and monotony. A few centuries ago there was alienation for work in factories, now everything is comodomante accessible home for the modest sum of € 39. 99 per month. Complete package. My word. Obviously, in this century we are smarter, more high-tech: we pay for us to say what to think, when you think and how to think. Before the thirty-nine and ninety-nine, spend it on prostitutes or wine, or the game . . . definitely more fun of psychic numbing or satellite (because of the social will speak again, or else give you a slice of liver and do first). Fuck a thousand years ago we saw piles of books on fire, now the books are not seen even more . . . There iutub, fart, and click on upload, your friend falls, breaks his leg around four idiots who laugh, click on upload. The Titian who can not park your car, click on upload. And st'artra famous laugh, and namo. Then, we give a damn, even sodomy-blooded, because the psycho-dwarf goes to the government, but we are too busy to look iutub . . . A thousand years ago, at least there would be a frightened group of rebels who would end up hanged, but at least it would have killed a few bastard supporter of the nano-to-turn. Today, we see people who stir shit for, for parking, because there's a contest at the post office or simply did X or Y of low relevance. But Christ, incazzatevi for what is right, do not break the balls to the next. If you rode your ass, give yourself a nice zest, it's always good I say. Now this rant and this jump stake in branch should be the explanation of the title of the blog if it was not always there iutub: I'll upload my grandmother's fart, sneeze, and a blasphemy pulls everything together so at least capita. . . .
