Savable Pokemon Games Online

(9) 5th Lesson: Statistically

The value of money is a perception. Do you see something you like and buy it, often judging the affordable price even if you have not done a comparison.

Example. Go through the town to buy an item that costs 30 €. The salesman tells you that if you go back tomorrow it will cost 15. You return. Then cross the city again to buy a computer that costs a thousand euro. The seller tells you that if you come back tomorrow it will cost you only 985. Take it away. Yet they are always saved € 15.

And then we go on like this, let the evil


€ 100 bet on heads or tails. Please? Why not, after all you may lose only 100 €!
Probability: 1 out of two (half)

We go to the casino. Are you willing to put 100 euro on a single flight number, now, without thinking twice?
Probability: 1 out of thirty-three (1 / 33)

you remember the old football pools? The one with the 13 games a few years ago. Someone above reasons, someone put the signs at random, 3 marks for 13 results. Have you ever played a fate of 100 €? More or less corresponded to 5 doubles and a triple, ie a board with 96 possible combinations.
odds: 96 out of nearly one million six hundred thousand (1/16.607)

The next Italian astronaut on the shuttle that will be going to throw a pebble on Italy orbit. € 100 wager that the stone will fall within one square kilometer from your home?
Probability: 1 out of about three hundred thousand (1/301.338)

you buy a ticket lottery, one for 100 €?
odds: about one in 18 million and a half (1/18.536.180 tickets sold in 2008)

Let us go back to the casino. Point 20 on the € 17, black, odd. Five times in a row (total, if I lose, € 100). But I want to win all five times! I worked the 100 €?
Probability: 1 out of almost 40 million (1/39.135.393)

In Italy there are about 1.3 phones per capita (Eurostat, 2008). Dial a number at random from among those existing bet 100 euro that I can call you own.
Probability: 1 out of about 78 million (1/78.000.000)

write in case the license plate of a car, considering all those circulating in the world. In fact, I write about two. € 100 bet that between the first and second attempt, the license plate of your guesses?
Odds: 2 to about 900 million (1/450.000.000)

Great European lottery: a name is taken among all the inhabitants. Place 100 € on me? If they are removed we will make them.
Probability: 1 out of nearly 500 million (1/495.000.000)

Okay, I understand, you do not like risk, even when you have a good chance (as in the coin toss), the less what the odds are ridiculous. No problem, € 100 is € 100. So, we go to a coffee bar that I offer. By the way, I would say to take a board of Superenalotto, one of those small, 2 €. In one year, with 3 drawings a week, at the end are about 300 € for a six-hit ... But you are not people who like to take risks, never mind. Or not?
Probability: 1 out of over six hundred million (1/622.614.630, without considering the bonus number)


Once those selling false hope was a con man, is now a private company (privatized), and the State that is one part of campaigns for social utility "Play responsibly" on the other we gain a significant slice on a game that includes a dozen drawings a day (Win4Life). And since you do not understand the numbers, buy false hope that three times a week. Even with a coupon of 1 euro, they are more than 150 euro per year. Most of you spend more. And if the jackpot rises, increasing the bets, as if a higher prize money significantly more likely to win.

Bullshit.

Lesson number five of the manual: every now and then is good to put things in perspective, and feel stupid. Now take the 100 € and taken to a pizzeria your four closest friends. It is money spent bene, anzi spesi meglio .

Community Service Completed Letter To The Court

Stupid (8) 4th Lesson: The Meaning of Mario

(Note: this Lesson cannot be translated in English. It has too much to do with myself, my hometown, and the dumbest of all things, local soccer. It evolves, fundamentally, around the concept that soccer is the most stupid thing mankind invented, and such is the individual that lives for it. So, either you are evolved and do not care about soccer, therefore you can be spared to read, or you are a soccer fan, therefore you are too dumb to understand it.)

"A vent'anni è tutto ancora intero
A vent'anni è tutto chi lo sa
A vent'anni si è stupidi davvero
Quante balle si ha in testa a quell'età"
(Francesco Guccini, "Eskimo")


With the approach of the Christmas show at all allotted the unseemly task of going in search of gifts required. It 's the compeanno of God, after a pity that the gifts never touch the celebrated, in this case, but it is another matter. In fact, this ritual is hateful fate touched me too.

few days ago I was in a cathedral (ie in one of the usual modern shopping malls where you can find everything you need and not at all), with Mario that whistled over my shoulder for being forced to go with me. Armed with a sufficient amount of patience, I got in one of the big shops that plague these places, when I pass in front of a familiar face.

Now, Mario has many flaws, and would not be what it is if it were not so, but he has an innate instinct to recognize approaching an idiot. It 's like a radar. When I felt stiff, blow and swell like a cat at the sight of a tub of salt water, I had to adjust and turn on his heel, pointing to the exit and decided to close it there. But time passes, and because my neurons have long been taken to commit suicide en masse like lemmings, I do not have the quickness and reaction time than a couple of decades ago. Too bad for me.

So crossing the look of the guy, the square, he does not recognize me (and this, in retrospect, was a sign that would suggest to give up, but I'm so, the slave of that soft human side led social incontinence, ie I can not resist, I swear I'm trying to quit, the Grannies curse and insult the sisters, but they are not still came out definitively from the tunnel). I stare at the guy. "You are Andrea (Pinco), I'm Andrea (ball)," I tell him without holding back. Alas, we recognize ourselves.

This is a fellow high school, then we speak of roughly twenty years ago. Never seen again. I remember in high school, the pitch of cement, which could certainly Menara ball like few others, with blue eyes and curly blond rebel who did the crazy classmates. Maybe somewhere over the years we were also classmates. However you get along, we played soccer together, and we fuckin 'good-natured spirit of the tribe according to different likes football (because under 18 is allowed to practice it, watch it and talk about it, and is even allowed to divide in two sub-branches of evolution, pro and pro-Toro-Juve, who then reached the age of reason to deviate the human being itself, or lean inexorably toward the dry branch of 'homo tifosus ).

I also remember at that balenante when we recognize that he was a huge del Toro, but there and then do not blame him: we were young and innocent. Of course, to be fanatical football is in itself a grave offense, and also be del Toro is a further aggravating - not to say sympathy / antipathy personal, but based on an accurate statistics compiled by myself from the newsagent, bar and random in various contexts in which this sub-merged and sports the worst human evolution has produced; take coffee next to three fans del Toro who blather on Monday morning has the same effect that would drink a cup of 'stagnant water sitting in the middle of the sewers of Calcutta. They are annoying like flies. At least those of Juventus are usually quiet and do not infect me with their smart advice from coaches on Sunday of the cock.

But all this does not give weight. Twenty years have passed. We grew up. We got married. We have kids. We, or at least we should have, discovered the important things in life. I am pleased even meet again.

First thing he tells me, again, two decades that even if we do not see here and I heard from him bounce (for example, I know that he is married and has children, I know where he works, Turin is a small city ): "How are you ',' I'm fine," these twenty seconds of the usual platitudes, however, inevitable.

should follow: what do you do in life, have kids, how old they are, all right, what have you done, references to other former classmates or friends in common, have had no news of Tom Dick or ... seems normal. And yet.

Second thing I said - and less than two minutes have passed since I reviewed after two decades: "You're always Juve?.

Rest stunned for a moment, Mario blows like a saber-toothed tiger, my neurons perform a triple jump of the lemmings with the pike, and I have the readiness to give my usual answer to this question and other variants of the existential question stupidest prehistoric times: "What team are you?". My answer is usually "over 18 years I have discovered that continue to give importance to football, as well as children, it's definitely an idiot" [Tim]. In general discontent and to silence the other person, with my good peace and inner satisfaction.

In essence, all this because I have practiced as a sport by decerebration exit from puberty, and later was unfortunately also labor for me, I know not how I want. And between the two factions towns, ostensibly to good taste and quality of mental and intellectual members of the different (and partly due to family inheritance), I like most of the Juventus side. My position is that I do not go to the stadium, I do not watch a game that is a tv, if "my" team wins I'm happy, I sincerely strabatto if he loses, and I do not care the least what the teams are others, will be a bit 'their dicks.

This time, as mentioned, outcome, and lost in the old days at least as taken aback, I stammer something like, "... Well, oh, more or less, yes. " He, I believed that this individual has evolved beyond the larval stage and the maturity of the next 40 years like me, mocking smiles and whispers: "Auf Wiedersehen." Examine for a moment, shocked the abstruse concept. Why say hello to me in German? Mario growled and sank his claws into my shoulder. I see the guy who is clearly having an erection, probably an earth, believed to have been so brilliant that his jokes. Then plug in: Juventus, the day before, he lost a match against Bayern Monaco, undeniably German team.

The guy leaves her prey to hormones (also a bit 'of the bib, could you give pats on the back, rather little is missing hugs and decides to lemon a little' alone). I stand there, dazed. And think.

Initially, the fact that the Taurus (which is also in series B and not exactly in the Champions League) has just lost his turn with the Crotone (or Gallipoli or the Sassuolo, or another league team zeta ), then you have to be fairly stupid, even more than the average of your peers - usually a gazelle a bit 'lame and half-gear does not take the piss out of the lion, if it meets one has the decency to turn off without being note. Then finally beginning to recover and avoid falling into the spiral of football, flapped his wings and mental book me again where the air is (mentally) fresh.

And I think what must have been sad life of a person who chews bitter twenty years, which infuses all his poor sense of self-belief in a football (watch the word "faith" that if we are already in the border of impropriety and blasphemy !!!), which has never given a single, small, miserable satisfaction ... to the point to resist the abyss of depression and unable to enjoy their joys, benefits from the misfortunes of others, that is, in all fields of human knowable a backward step on the scale evolution. I think that fits my lemming, but your brain should not even have disappeared without leaving a note of farewell, a long time ago.

Twenty years I do not see, Twenty . And the second thing that comes to mind is to take the piss not because your team won, but because I lost ... or rather, what you think is mine, because I feel that I have sat on the eighteenth step of life and remained there beside you, dazed by your own idols of cardboard, drowned in my drool as you in your envy, to squeeze the gonads in front of a leather ball ...

... but fuck, idiot. And I tell you with my heart full of Christmas spirit. Not only do I have confirmed that the fanatics of football as you are and will remain a product of my species (and among them those of faith are truly grenade on average more than people of other shit), but I've also mentioned that the old bitch without fail every Monday meeting in newsagents, to yelling with his nasal voice of the cock "Our coach," "Boys do not have a good game," "At least Juve lost" (proving that since the world and world all assholes look alike, nda). "Our faith grenade" and a bunch of other crap that disturb me while I buy or try the new Courier issue of Wired. But for this I thank you. For four years the stand, every Monday. Do not take it anymore. Next week I will send you fuck her as well.

Sorry, there is a real lesson in our manual here. If you do this: there is a limit to what one can prove fools. But if you exceed it, this lesson is also useless. So, to quote Stephen King, "rooting, pork, or crack." Do not much care.

And Merry Christmas.

Sixis Animal Good Fak

The short story (vs: The big story)

to tell the story of the men never ends. Some people trace thousands of years of history in 200 pages around the world and who, by contrast, tells the story of a single day of any unfortunate one in 800 pages.
have the same kind of story? All right! That is called The Greatest Story , this little story The . Both are made up on documents or testimonies (with feedback, if possible).
For now I'll tell you something Loia Sylvester, son of Vincent and Roane Cecilia, born in Sassoferrato (Ancona) 12 March 1884, April 21, 1921 and was a resident of Iron Mountain in the state of Michigan (USA), condition of the workers (from 888 No passport, no corresponding log /, issued by the Royal Consulate of Italy in Chicago "In the Name of His Majesty Vittorio Emanuele III For the Grace of God and will of the nation KING OF ITALY).

Big Story
In 1910 21,200 Italians were counted in No city in the state of Michigan, where is the city of Iron Mountain (capital of Chicago, with no more than 50,000 Italians), and No. 809300 in New York (of which No. 591,100 in the city of New York).
In 1910 U.S. residents were more than 2 million Italians emigrated from Italy in the last decade of the first decade of the 1800 and 1900.
The Unity of Italy had cost him dear Italians in the center and south, and the economic crisis put hunger vulnerable families, especially in rural and mountainous areas as are the Marche. Even more expensive is the period immediately after the unification, both in terms of looting of resources, both in terms of taxes, both in terms of deaths as a result of the roundups and executions of so-called "bandits " by Piedmontese troops of occupation.
It is estimated that about 14 million Italians emigrated to the abroad during the period between 1876 and the beginning of World War I, against a population in 1900 of about 33 trillion people. Argentina, Brazil and USA were the main countries where Italians went in search of fortune, and where today there are about 65 million descendants of Italian immigrants.
In the U.S., during the period between 1880 and 1915 landed 4 million Italians, over 9 million Europeans crossed the Atlantic on a boat like those of figure (half coal and half sailing to reserve).
Figure: Some ships of the period from the ports of Genoa and Naples for America.
L ' emigration Italian in the world has been called " the largest outflow of modern history ( for more ).

Little History of Sylvester Loia
< What do you mean by country, Minister? It is a mass of miserable? We plant corn, but we do not eat white bread. We cultivate the vine, but we do not drink wine. We breed animals, but we do not eat meat. (...) Nevertheless, we recommend you not to leave our homeland? But the country is a land where you can not live of their work? > . Expressed it this way, an anonymous the Italian immigrant to Brazil, to a Minister, he too Italian, at the end of 1800 (from wikipedia , translated from Portuguese ).

had left from Casalvento - Sylvester Loiacono - with the same questions in mind.
...
...

Matryoshka In Winnipeg

Passport for "Merica" \u200b\u200b

This is a full copy of the passport of Loia Sylvester (b. 1884, d. 1935).

How Do You Get Shiny Pokemon In Any Game

Piaggiasecca Roman

It seems strange that a village as Piaggiasecca, today 13 people, including 2 with less than 3 years, may have origins so far. But the proof here it is, the fund un'amfora - say a trifle - but a sure sign. I found rummaging in a moregene (dialect to indicate where the peasants at the bottom of the fields, piling the stones came to the surface during plowing) in the bottom of the Plain of the Little House 25 years ago (see photo ). So I was keen, as now, to make sense of this village, from which the events of the first study and the work then I had moved away long ago. For so many years I believed that he lost this finding important but - you know - but do not hide the house and steals, so after some removal and some restructuring, I found myself in a box.

In the decade between the early 70s and early 80s tried to Piagiasecca elements of the story: at the papal Inventory (maintained by the Chamber of Fabriano ' State Archives, at least until some twenty years ago ) at the Land Registry Disappeared (then there was a section of the provincial Fabriano containing documents dating back to the land registry system that is about 1885), at the Parish of Casalvento (whose parish books of baptisms, marriages and deaths dating back to mid-1600, were transferred from the 70s in the Archives of the Bishop of Fabriano), at the 'Archives of the agrarian community of Casalvento and Piaggiasecca (kept in a box wood at the president, then, was my father) and, of course, place.
Not that there were exceptional documents, but given the lack of attention to a "village" as part of our scholars, I could be sure that whatever we could find was indeed the "original", that is not compromised for purposes hagiographic as was the location for major species at the beginning of 1900, in a kind of run-up to demonstrate noble and ancient origins, as was the case or Arcevia Ostra Vetere.

So I found a map of the Land papal Piaggiasecca of 1812 (State Archives), the dislocation of family property, which was quite a collection zone (the cease Cadastre: the fats to the east, the Bani in the west, Locci the north, in addition to the properties of families today no longer exist), the genealogy of families from mid 1600 until early 1900 (in the parish books, for example: you Scrollini accaso Piaggiasecca in the middle of 1700 coming from Tuscany ), the date of 1208 which was resolved by judicial proceedings for one of the many properties of a mountain ridge The Wedge, in dispute between the two farming communities of Casalvento-Piaggiasecca Rucce still alive and in the recent cut in 2005 that, at least, proves the existence of two communities already by that time (from the box of the President of the Community of Casalvento-Piaggiasecca) and naturally, the physical findings.

I shot the ground floors of buildings Piaggiasecca and found many vaulted ceilings recessed in cut stone, I found the old entrance door with Gothic arch cut stone (as in Gubbio), many clusters of plants isolated in the middle of fields, which originally were to be the case, then abandoned and, finally, I found, turning the fields far and wide, the bottom of jar that you have seen, whose origin is unmistakably Roman, but I also found some fragments of bricks, the quality of the dough, are very likely to ascend to a period where the labor force for the screening of the clay was at a good price (the slaves Romans?) since the stuffing is fine and no calcinelli, as I have found fragments of brick, in contrast, have a much less refined mixture in which there are empty, a sign of mixing hasty, and in abundance calcinelli , indicating that the screening was done with clay cruder methods (evidence of late Roman or early medieval?).

I have not expanded the research to other neighbors in Little House, namely Casalvento, Colmic and San Felice, for which I have no way of reflection, but it is possible that after the fall of Rome, and especially after the defeat of Totila , King of the Ostrogoths, which took place in the plain of Monterosso Station ( at Sassoferrato), roughly in the sec. VI and VII and the arrival of the Lombards in sec. VII, the inhabitants of the plain of the Little House will be scattered Redistributions in neighboring cities, around the time of Charlemagne that is in sec. IX. And
Piaggiasecca Casalvento and it seems that it went well. For
San Felice do not know, since it seems (at least with regard to the church, whose entrance looking west, typical Mode of the Counter-namely the 1600) to be of much later origin.

A separate, then, should be made in language, dialect or rather on those who can find a place in ancient culture. Sanzio Balducci, a professor at the University of Urbino, has admirably traced the border of some phonemes that argues in favor of the membership of Piaggiasecca area north of the Marche (Fabriano while, and it Rucci, belong to the area south ) and that the Roman region of Umbria (by then occupara Gauls ) (see: The dialects , Sergio Anselmi (c.), in The province of Ancona - Story of a territory , Bari, Editori Laterza, 1987, pp. 273-284).

If fate is against us - would say read the subtitle of main blog - it's worse for him. The memory of things far comforts us and gives us encouragement to fight against forgetting even in remote places like this, with the mountains on the border of Marche and Umbria.