[The Killing Kind Full Movie In Italian 720p Download
Melvin Amey
The Pulitzer-winning Grapes of Wrath author was there specifically to focus on the grunt. An introductory sidebar that ran in many newspapers with the first of his stories in late June put his mission this way:
Once Steinbeck settled in across the pond, though, he began to intersperse interviews with those observations. One of his first stories reported in England explored the lives of gunners on U.S. Army Air Forces bombers. It concludes:
Steinbeck returned to the U.S. that fall, but his articles continued to appear in newspapers through the end of the year. Back home, he returned to what he knew best and wrote Cannery Row, which was published at the end of 1944.
For six months in 1943, the New York Herald Tribune and a handful of other newspapers across the U.S. carried dispatches from John Steinbeck as he traveled through England, North Africa, Sicily and Italy documenting the fighting man\u2019s life in the struggle against Nazi Germany.
\u201CFor days he has been living with and listening to the average American soldiers. He will continue to do so at the war fronts. Things these soldiers see, hear, laugh at, will be what Steinbeck will write. Plain citizen turned plain soldier \u2026 like the kid down the block \u2026 what he is thinking, doing, and saying \u2014 that\u2019s Steinbeck\u2019s story!\u201D
The 41-year-old\u2019s first piece, datelined \u201CSomewhere in England, June 20\u201D, was almost entirely observational, with no quotes until the final sentence, as Steinbeck described the boarding process on the ship that would take him across the Atlantic.
There are several ways of wearing a hat or cap. A man may express himself in the pitch or tilt of his hat, but not with a helmet. There is only one way to wear a helmet. It won\u2019t go on any other way. It sits level on the head, low over eyes and ears, low on the back of the neck. With your helmet on you are a mushroom in a bed of mushrooms.
\u201CA few days ago I killed my first man,\u201D he says. He takes a big swallow of the scalding coffee. \u201CI\u2019ve been wondering about it. I\u2019m not a killing kind of a man. I don\u2019t get angry that way. I\u2019ve been thinking about that man. I poured my guns into him and he died. I\u2019ve kicked out all the things I\u2019ve been told I ought to think about, like it\u2019s good to kill Germans and all the other things like \u2018thou shalt not kill.\u2019 And when those things are kicked out, I find I don\u2019t think anything about it at all. It\u2019s just something that happened. I\u2019m not glad or sorry. I don\u2019t have any feeling about it at all. Isn\u2019t that funny?\u201D
In that example, Sgt. Crain is something of an exception. Steinbeck routinely described his characters only by their rank, writing pieces as if they were scenes from his fiction. Given that style, it\u2019s fair to presume plenty of the quotes he did use weren\u2019t exactly verbatim, but that was hardly unusual for the era. None of the print correspondents was recording interviews on an iPhone for later word-for-word transcription.
A later dispatch, reported once again over coffee but this time in North Africa, centers on two unnamed Navy officers, a lieutenant commander and a lieutenant (j.g.), and the senior man\u2019s elaborate metaphor for the work at hand:
\u201CI conceive naval warfare to be much like chamber music,\u201D he said. \u201CThirty-caliber machine guns, those are the violins, the fifties are the violas, six-inch guns are perfect cellos.\u201D
He looked a little sad. \u201CI\u2019ve never had sixteen-inch guns to compose with. I have never had any bass.\u201D He leaned back in his chair. \u201CThe composition \u2014 the tactics of chamber music \u2014 are much the same as a well conceived and planned naval engagement. Destroyers out, why that will be the statement of theme, the screening attack, and all preparing for the great statement of battleships.\u201D
He leaned back farther and tipped his chair against the wall and hooked his heels over the lower rung. A lieutenant (j.g.) laughed. \u201CHe always talks like that. If he didn\u2019t know so much about mines we would think he was crazy.\u201D
Naturally, this story doesn't begin with that bowl of soup. No, it begins as all truly terrifying horror stories do: with unchecked patriarchy. Because in 1633 Italy, the unlimited power afforded to men meant that women of those times often suffered untold abuse. They had no standing in society and few opportunities to better their situations. They could marry and hope that their husband treated them decently, they could remain single and rely on sex work to survive, or they could become a widow.
And no one was more skilled at crafting and packaging deadly poisons for Italian ladies in the 17th century than Giulia Tofana. Giulia was born in Palermo in the year 1620. Her mother was the infamous Thofania d'Amado, who was executed for murdering her own husband in 1633. It's been rumored that d'Amado passed down the recipe for her best-performing poison to her daughter, but even if that wasn't the case, Giulia herself was skilled in brewing all kinds of tinctures.
She moved from Sicily to Naples to Rome, expanding her black-market trade. Harboring a soft spot for women trapped in loveless, suffocating relationships, she started selling toxins to help them escape. With the help of her daughter, a group of trusted associates, and possibly a priest, Giulia launched an underground ring of criminals from her apothecary shop. To those not in the know, her business was cosmetics. She sold powders and liquids to enhance women's beauty.
She was careful to only sell products to ladies that she knew, or women who had been vetted by past clients. Unfortunately, one customer, a young woman who procured Aqua Tofana planning her husband's demise, got cold feet.
After mixing a few drops of the deadly liquid into her husband's soup, she panicked, begging him not to eat it and inadvertently revealing the criminal activities of Giulia and her accomplices. The husband forced his wife to give up Tofana and the rest of her network of poisoners and he soon got the police involved.
Giulia was beloved by the people, especially the women, both powerful and poor, who she helped. She got word of her warrant before the authorities came knocking and was granted sanctuary by a local church until a rumor began to spread that she had poisoned the city's water supply and the government took action, apprehending her and subjecting her to horrific torture.
Giulia confessed to killing over 600 men from 1633-1651 in Rome alone, though that number could be lower (or higher) given that her confession came under duress. It's believed that Tofana was executed in Campo de' Fiori in Rome in 1659, along with her daughter and a few of her most reliable associates. Dozens of lower-class women were executed after it was revealed they had been customers of Tofana, while many of the upper-class ladies were imprisoned or banished for their involvement in the scheme.
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