Podcasts about Leopoldo

Episode 313 is part 3 of the mini-series covering Sylvia Odio. In our last episode, we traced Sylvia Odio's fall from Cuban aristocracy—wealthy, U.S.-educated, and immersed in high society—to a destitute exile after her parents, Amador and Sarah, funneled their fortune into the anti-Castro underground. Their arrest and imprisonment by Fidel Castro in October 1961 devastated the family and set Sylvia on a path of heartbreak.Today we follow her survival in the aftermath. Abandoned by her husband in Puerto Rico, Sylvia suffered a shattering emotional breakdown and terrifying fainting spells. With help from her sisters in Dallas and a generous local benefactor, Lucille Connell, she relocated in March 1963 and found psychiatric care under Dr. Burton Einspruch, who later called her truthful, cooperative, and brilliant under oath.This episode builds the critical backdrop for one of the most important pre-assassination sightings of Lee Harvey Oswald. We examine Sylvia's fragile mental state, her complicated new life in Dallas, the people around her, and we travel bacl to  the exact apartment where history was about to knock. Finally we find ourselves  right there when  the knock on the door occurs. Three strangers stood in Sylvia Odio's lighted vestibule. Two Cubans calling themselves Leopoldo and Angelo claimed to be members of JURE, the anti-Castro group her own parents had helped build. With them was a quiet, pale American they introduced as “Leon Oswald.” They knew intimate details about Sylvia's imprisoned father and asked her to help raise money for arms. She turned them down. As they drove away in a red car, Sylvia was left uneasy—but she had no idea how deeply this brief encounter was about to haunt her.

With the advent of the Sylvia Odio series, we are  pivoting  back to (finally) finishing off the Mexico series. In the Odio story, we tell  something tangential to Mexico City  but vastly important overall.  The story of Sylvia Odio is rarely explored in more detail and we do it here. And no,...it's not time yet for Sylvia Duran...that is coming next, but we're going to cover Sylvia Odio first.In the fourth episode of this  mini-series , we continue to  lay the groundwork for what has become known as the most explosive Oswald sightings of the Kennedy assassination. On November 22, 1963, the world changed forever. Sylvia Odio was returning from lunch at her Dallas office when radios blared the news: President Kennedy had been shot. In an instant her mind flashed back to the two Cuban men and the quiet American they called “Leon” who had stood in her apartment just weeks earlier—An image that came to mind  before Oswald's name or face had been released to the public.Sylvia collapsed in the company warehouse, overwhelmed by the connection. Across town her seventeen-year-old sister Annie saw Oswald's photograph on television and felt a chilling jolt of recognition. Rushed to the hospital where Sylvia had been taken, the sisters stared at each other in horror. “Do you remember those three guys who came to the house?” Sylvia whispered. The pieces came together. “Leon did it!” Sylvia  cried.Terrified for their parents—still political prisoners in Castro's Cuba—and fearing the entire exile community would be blamed, Sylvia and Annie swore a pact of silence. Yet a secret this explosive could not stay hidden. Through a chain of phone calls, a classroom conversation, and the son of FBI Agent James Hosty, the story reached the authorities, pulling Sylvia Odio into one of the most fiercely debated episodes of the Warren Commission investigation.Next time: How the FBI and the Commission tried—and failed—to bury the mother of all Oswald sightings

Hello friends and listeners! Well I am back at it.  And today, we pivot back to (finally) finishing off the Mexico series, I tell the story of something tangential to Mexico but vastly important overall.  It's the story of Sylvia Odio. No...it's not time yet for Sylvia Duran...that is coming next. But let's get Sylvia Odio out of the way first.  In this  gripping mini-series premiere, we lay the groundwork for what has become known as the most explosive Oswald sighting of the Kennedy assassination. We journey from the aristocratic circles of pre-Castro Cuba to a modest garden-style apartment in Dallas, Texas, following the tragic trajectory of Sylvia Odio. As a young, recently divorced mother of four, Sylvia's world had already been shattered by the political imprisonment of her parents in Fidel Castro's dungeons, including her father's imprisonment  on the  infamous Isle of Pines. Struggling with the emotional toll of her exile and sudden poverty, she sought only a quiet life—unaware that the darkest mystery of the 20th century was about to walk right up to her front door.This prelude sets the stage for a chilling late-September evening in 1963 that would forever alter American history. We explore the shadowy world of the anti-Castro underground to understand the terrifying context of a sudden knock at Sylvia's door on Magellan Circle. Waiting in her vestibule were two militant Latin operatives using the underground "war names" Leopoldo and Angelo, accompanied by a pale, quiet American. The American was introduced to Sylvia by a name that would soon echo across the globe: "Leon Oswald". And what happened next goes directly to the assassination question itself. Join us as we begin to unravel the Odio incident, an enduring paradox that completely shatters the official narrative but also adds as many questions as it answers.  

Hoy hay otra Carlota de Gales en Gran Bretaña, pero en este episodio vamos a hablar de la primera de ellas, aquella Carlota que murió muy joven y cuya muerte inició un proceso que acabó haciendo reina a la jovencísima Victoria.Tiene una vida muy interesante, desde su anómala infancia a los varios hombres de los que se enamoró hasta que logró que la dejaran casarse con uno de ellos, Leopoldo. En el episodio os contamos también qué tiene que ver Carlota (y su nombre) con la emperatriz Carlota de México, que ya pasó por aquí.

Escuche el episodio del 23 de febrero. En La Luciérnaga, mezcla extraña de realidad y ficción, hablamos del cruce entre Petro y el Procurador por el proceso electoral, el incidente entre un helicóptero de la FAC y un avión de Latam, y la entrevista Sin Anestesia con Lucho Garzón.

◉ Búscanos en todas las redes sociales como abejorromedia 

En este episodio nos acompañan Alejandro Baca, Nayeli Salazar, Tonatiuh Enciso, Diego Valenciano del comité de jóvenes OLAJ, como invitado especial el Dr. Leopoldo de AUSTAR.Este grupo de jóvenes, en compañía de nuestro invitado especial el Dr. Leopoldo nos hablan de la mejora del suelo para cultivo a costa de una baja de rendimiento y que oportunidades existen para poder mejorar los cultivos de una manera más equilibrada.

Entrevista Leopoldo Maldonado

Lo Que Nos Cuenta El Cuento - El Duo de la Tos, Leopoldo Alas (Clarín) by Radiotelevisión de Veracruz

Il y a 6 ans, et 156 épisodes, j'enregistrais un premier podcast avec Leopoldo Celi.S'il revient aujourd'hui à mon micro, c'est pour raconter la suite de son histoire… et surtout pour nous présenter un nouveau projet ambitieux : la relance d'une marque centenaire.Fils d'un ingénieur et d'une professeure d'histoire de l'art, Leopoldo revient sur son parcours avec une grande lucidité. De la création de Fugue, sa première marque, à ses passages chez Audemars Piguet puis Girard-Perregaux, il explique comment ces expériences, et surtout les rencontres qui les ont accompagnées, ont façonné sa vision.C'est ce cheminement, cette maturation progressive, qui l'a conduit à se lancer dans un projet aussi exigeant que la renaissance de Niton. Une aventure qui mêle héritage, création et responsabilité.Un épisode qui parle de temps long, de cohérence, et de cette envie profonde de bâtir quelque chose qui ait du sens.Si tu veux nous poser une question ou simplement discuter, ça se passe ici, sur ▶️ Instagram ◀️Si tu veux partager le podcast à un ami, tu peux utiliser ce lien : MERCI DU PARTAGEHébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Escuche esta y más noticias de LA PATRIA Radio de lunes a viernes por los 1540 AM de Radio Cóndor en Manizales y en www.lapatria.com, encuentre videos de las transmisiones en nuestro Facebook Live: www.facebook.com/lapatria.manizales/videos

Al cabo de una intensa andadura por innumerables agrupaciones habaneras, iniciada en la frontera de los años 30 a los 40, donde destacaron la orquesta "Bellamar" de Armando Romeu y la orquesta de René Touzet, el trombonista, arreglista y compositor guantanamero Leopoldo "Pucho" Escalante logró canalizar su pasión por la improvisación y la descarga con la fundación del llamado "Noneto Cubano de Jazz" en el mismo centro de la convulsa década del 60. La aparición del noneto hacia febrero de 1964, bajo la batuta de este destacado músico, con una sonoridad y rítmica enmarcadas básicamente en la corriente del swing, aportó una mayor consistencia a la categoría del jazz en el espectro discográfico cubano. Así recordamos al trombonista Pucho Escalante, uno de los grandes pioneros del jazz que es imprescindible tener en cuenta. A punto de arribar a los 102 años falleció en Nueva York el 17 de octubre de 2021. Había nacido en Yateras, Guantánamo, el 14 de diciembre de 1919. Unos minutos en la criollisima compañía de María Cervantes. Notable pianista, compositora e intérprete, su incesante paso por la radio, las salas teatrales, clubes y cabarets, entre otros escenarios, dejó una impronta de auténtica cubanía. De su padre, el ilustre Ignacio Cervantes, recibió las primeras clases de piano, así como todo un universo melódico que, aparejado al respeto a la música y al público, le acompañó hasta el final de sus días. Gracias a las grabaciones discograficas que registró para la etiqueta Columbia, a partir de los años 20, su arte comenzó a trascender nuestras costas. María abrió un singular camino que tuvo en Bola de Nieve el más alto exponente. Nació en La Habana el 30 de noviembre de 1885. Falleció a los 95 años el 8 de febrero de 1981. Y a propósito de María Cervantes llega a nuestra memoria el Bola. Combinó de manera genial sus grandes cualidades al piano con una originalidad interpretativa aún rara de encontrar en estos tiempos. Con absoluta humildad, siempre fiel a su arte, con mucho sentimiento, hizo suya la canción. Desde el Hotel Internacional de Varadero, como parte del Festival de la Canción del año 1970, llega el inigualable piano man. Probablemente una de sus últimas presentaciones, teniendo en cuenta que fallecería en México un año más tarde, el 2 de octubre de 1971 Casi en la despedida revisitamos el panteón de los pioneros del jazz cubano. La antigua señal de la CMQ de Monte y Prado de finales de 1945, nos recuerda el estilo de Dandy Crawford. Como elemento indispensable en el elenco que proponía el show "El club del Swing", Dandy llamaba la atención con el apoyo de la orquesta CMQ bajo las conducciones de los maestros Alfredo Brito, Armando Romeu y Félix Guerrero. Por entonces el swing y el be bop cautivaban a músicos y bailadores.

On today's episode, we welcome two very special guests! Leopoldo Larcher and Emily Guincho are a father–daughter duo here to share their Italian Mormon story as the first family to join the LDS Church in Italy.Leopoldo details his experience of quickly being placed into leadership roles and bearing the responsibility of helping establish the structure of the Church in Italy. Over the years, he worked with many LDS Church leaders, from Ezra Taft Benson to Spencer W. Kimball.His daughter, Emily, joins us to share her own perspective on what it was like for her and her siblings to grow up in an environment dominated by church service and the immense pressure to represent Mormonism in their community.Together, Emily and Leopoldo reflect on what it meant to be Mormon pioneers in Italy, how their dedicated service affected their family life, and where they stand with the Church today. They also discuss what the LDS community looks like in Italy within a predominantly Catholic culture, and the challenges the Church faces as it attempts to establish a uniquely American institution in Europe.___________________YouTubeAt Mormon Stories we explore, celebrate, and challenge Mormon culture through in-depth stories told by members and former members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as well as scholars, authors, LDS apologists, and other professionals.  Our overall mission is to: 1. Facilitate informed consent amongst LDS Church members, investigators, and non-members regarding Mormon history, doctrine, and theology2. Support Mormons (and members of other high-demand religions) who are experiencing a religious faith crisis3. Promote healing, growth and community for those who choose to leave the LDS Church or other high demand religions

LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle"  Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

LEOPOLDO'S SECRET LIBRARYSome people are strange — they like to spend their evenings reading books.Others are even stranger — they believe in the magic found between pages, in fantastical adventures, in stories of impossible love, in ghosts that walk among the living, and they think that everything that doesn't exist — maybe does after all.In short, this story is for those who are a little strange, like you and me — you know, for those who.So… listen.If you take the road up the hill from the center of town, you'll find an old and noble villa, one that has been there for a very long time. It must be about 350 years now that it has stood there in silence, watching and breathing softly beneath the Tuscan sky.Enormous rooms filled with history, endless corridors, and windows as large as dreams — but now, instead of porcelain plates and figurines, it gives us stories on paper for those who wish to read them.Yes, now it's the town library — a bit out of the way, but so beautiful. Well, you can't have everything.Now, on a summer night, wrapped in a blanket of stars and the soft glow of delicate lanterns, the villa had filled with voices, music, smiles, and so many stories told and heard, spoken aloud or whispered, intertwining in the embrace of the celebration.A special evening already, no doubt, but pay attention, because something even more unusual was about to happen.Yes, because Elisa was there too. Eyes as wide as the sky, hair as dark as the night, and a book in her hand — as always.Despite everything happening around her, Elisa preferred to read.She was there, in the main corridor: between the garden and the inner courtyard, halfway between the certain and the perhaps, sitting in an armchair a little too big for her, lost in a mysterious and captivating story — in a world all her own.She turns a page, then another, adjusts her yellow glasses, and turns another page…When slowly, the echo of piano music reached her ears.She didn't pay much attention. Thinking it came from the courtyard, she turned another page — and then another.But before long she realized that the notes she heard were not coming from the villa's courtyard but from one of its corridors — carried by a gentle breeze, from faraway places outside of time.Without thinking too much, Elisa rose silently, tucked her book under her arm, and followed the music.She crossed ancient corridors and rooms with shelves full of volumes of every size and color imaginable — rainbows of thoughts and words lined up one by one that seemed to never end.As the music grew stronger, the light faded, the rooms she passed through began to appear forgotten, the stone stairs she climbed and descended worn by time, the side corridors were now dark passages lit only by torches on the walls, appearing and disappearing in the darkness like breaths.A staircase, a wooden door left ajar, another passage, another staircase, and still more rooms and shelves and books without end.Then, suddenly, a mist covered the floor like a gentle tide, and there, before her, a heavy curtain — half open.A little light showed through, and a few small wooden steps.She climbed them, those little stairs, and the music wrapped around her like an embrace.On the stage, candles floated in the air like fireflies on a timeless night. And there, at the center, seated before a tiny piano, was a mouse.But not just any mouse.Leopoldo wore a dark green tweed jacket, brown trousers pressed with care, and on his little snout, golden spectacles that gleamed with ancient and gentle wisdom.His fingers danced on the keys as if they were telling a secret."Welcome, Elisa," he said, without stopping his playing. "I've been waiting for you."Elisa blinked, enchanted. "How do you know my name?""Ah," Leopoldo smiled, letting the last note fade softly into the air, "those who love stories always recognize those who seek them."He stood, adjusted his jacket with an elegant gesture, and looked at her with eyes full of stars."Do you know where you are?""In the town library," Elisa answered, but her voice trembled a little, as if she knew the answer was something else."That one everyone knows," said Leopoldo, stepping down slowly from the stage. "Every town has one that everyone knows. But every town also has another — one that almost no one finds."He paused, his eyes gleaming."You have found the second."Leopoldo led her toward a large wooden door that Elisa could have sworn wasn't there a moment before. It opened slowly, without a sound, like a sigh held too long.And what she saw took her breath away.Endless shelves climbed upward, descended downward, stretched in every direction like spirals of galaxies made of paper and dreams. Candles floated everywhere, illuminating books that seemed to breathe, to pulse softly, like sleeping hearts."What is this place?" Elisa whispered."This," said Leopoldo, walking among the shelves, "is the library of books never written."Elisa followed, confused. "Books never written? But how can they exist?"Leopoldo stopped, turned, and looked at her with infinite gentleness."Every story ever dreamed exists, Elisa. Every adventure imagined before sleep. Every tale thought but never put to paper. They all live here, at the border between the world and the dream, waiting."They stopped before a shelf.Leopoldo pointed to a small book, bound in blue like a summer sky."Touch it," he said softly.Elisa reached out, hesitant, and brushed the cover.A gentle warmth passed through her fingers. And for an instant — just an instant — she heard a child's laughter, saw a dragon made of clouds, and a castle built of pillows and blankets."This," said Leopoldo, "was the dream of a six-year-old boy. A story he told his teddy bear every night. He never wrote it down. But it exists. You see? It exists."Elisa smiled, her heart light.They walked on, through corridors of silent stories, until Leopoldo stopped before another book.This one was different. Larger, bound in dark leather, with golden letters that seemed to tremble."And this one?" asked Elisa, quietly."This one," said Leopoldo, and his voice grew soft as a caress, "belonged to a grandmother."Elisa touched it.And she felt something different.Not laughter, this time. But a warm, distant voice, telling of a brave little girl who crossed an enchanted forest to bring light to a forgotten village."It was the story she wanted to leave her grandchildren," Leopoldo explained. "But time… time sometimes runs faster than dreams. She didn't have time to write it."Elisa felt her eyes sting."But it's here," she whispered."It's here," Leopoldo confirmed. "Forever."They continued walking, in silence, until they reached a shelf unlike the others.It was nearly empty. Only a few books, spaced apart, and so many open spaces, waiting.At the center, a book without a title.The cover was white, clean, like freshly fallen snow, like a page waiting for its first mark."May I?" asked Elisa.Leopoldo nodded.She touched it.Nothing. No warmth. No voice. Only silence. But a full silence, like a breath held."This book is empty," said Elisa, surprised."Not yet written," Leopoldo corrected. "Not even dreamed. Not yet. It waits for someone to find the courage to imagine it."He turned toward her, and his eyes shone like the candles floating around them."Perhaps it waits for you. Perhaps it waits for someone else. But it waits."Elisa stood still, looking at that white book.And she understood.She understood that every story she had ever imagined, every adventure invented before sleep, every dream she thought lost upon waking, existed somewhere.And she understood something else.That you don't have to be afraid to write.Because stories already exist — in the heart, in the mind, in dreams. Putting them on paper is not creating them from nothing. It is only opening a door and letting them out."I have to go, don't I?" said Elisa, softly.Leopoldo smiled. "Your world awaits you. But now you know this place exists. And you know that every story you dream will always have a place here, whether you write it or not."He paused."But if you do write it," he added with a sly smile, "it can live out there too. And that, my dear, is another kind of magic."Elisa found herself back in the villa's corridor, sitting in the armchair a little too big for her, the book still under her arm.The celebration went on, voices and music and laughter, as if no time had passed at all.But something had changed.She had changed.She opened the book she had been reading, looked at the pages, and smiled.Then she closed it.Because now she knew that the most beautiful stories are not only the ones we read.They are the ones we carry inside, the ones we dream with our eyes open, and the ones that one day, with a little courage, we dare to tell.— This story was written by Marco Ciappelli for "Storie Sotto Le Stelle"  Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

LA BIBLIOTECA SEGRETA DI LEOPOLDO Certa gente è strana,gli piace passare le serate a leggere libri. Altri sono ancora più strani —credono alla magia che si trova tra le pagine,alle avventure fantastiche,alle storie di amori impossibili,ai fantasmi che girano fra i vivie pensano che tutto ciò che non esiste —forse invece sì. In breve, questa storia è per quelli un po' stranicome me e te —insomma, per quelli che. Allora… ascolta bene. Se dal centro del paese prendi la via per il monte,trovi una villa vecchia e nobile,che è lì da tanto tempo.Saranno sì e no 350 anniche sta lì in silenzio,osservando e respirando pianosotto il cielo toscano. Stanze enormi piene di storia,corridoi senza finee finestre grandi come sogni,ma adesso, invece di piatti e statuine di porcellana,sforna storie su carta per chi le vuole leggere. Sì, ora è la biblioteca del paese —un po' fuori mano ma tanto bella.Beh, non si può avere tutto. Insomma, fatto sta che,in una notte d'estate,avvolta da un manto di stellee la luce soffusa di lanterne delicate,la villa si era riempita di voci, musica, sorrisie tante storie raccontate e ascoltate,a voce alta o sussurrate,che si intrecciavano nell'abbraccio della festa. Indubbiamente una serata già speciale,ma fate attenzioneperché qualcosa di ancora più insolito stava per avvenire. Sì, perché anche Elisa era lì.Occhi grandi come il cielo,capelli scuri come la nottee un libro in mano — come sempre. Nonostante tutto quello che le accadeva intorno,Elisa preferiva leggere. Era lì, nel corridoio principale:fra il giardino e la corte interna,a mezza strada fra il sicuro e il forse,seduta su una poltrona un po' troppo grande per lei,immersa in una storia misteriosa e avvincente —in un mondo tutto suo. Gira una pagina, poi un'altra,si accomoda gli occhiali giallie gira un'altra pagina… Quando lentamentel'eco di una musica di pianoforteraggiunse le sue orecchie. Non ci fece tanto attenzione.Credendo che provenisse dal cortilevoltò un'altra pagina — e poi un'altra. Ma in breve tempo si rese contoche le note che sentivanon venivano dal cortile della villama da uno dei suoi corridoi —portate da un vento leggero,da luoghi lontani e senza tempo. Senza pensarci troppo,Elisa si alzò silenziosamente,si mise il libro sotto il braccioe inseguì la musica. Attraversò antichi corridoie stanze con scaffali pieni di volumidi ogni dimensione e colori immaginabili —arcobaleni di pensieri e parole in fila per unoche sembravano non finire mai. Mentre la musica diventava più marcatala luce diminuiva,le stanze che attraversavacominciarono ad apparire dimenticate,le scale di pietra che saliva e scendevaconsumate dal tempo,i corridoi laterali erano ora passaggi scuriilluminati solamente da torce alle pareti,che apparivano e scomparivano nel buiocome respiri. Una scala,una porta di legno socchiusa,un altro passaggio,un'altra scalae ancora stanze e scaffali e libri a non finire. Poi, all'improvviso,una foschia coprì il pavimentocome una marea gentilee davanti a lei una grande tenda pesante —socchiusa. Si intravedeva un po' di lucee poche scalette di legno. Le salì, quelle piccole scale,e la musica la avvolse come un abbraccio. Sul palco, candele fluttuavano nell'ariacome lucciole in una notte senza tempo.E lì, al centro,seduto davanti a un pianoforte piccolo piccolo,c'era un topo. Ma non un topo qualunque. Leopoldo indossava una giacca di tweed verde scuro,pantaloni marroni stirati con cura,e sul musetto, occhiali doratiche brillavano di una saggezza antica e gentile. Le sue dita danzavano sui tasticome se stessero raccontando un segreto. «Benvenuta, Elisa» disse, senza smettere di suonare.«Ti stavo aspettando.» Elisa sbatté gli occhi, incantata.«Come sai il mio nome?» «Ah,» sorrise Leopoldo, lasciando che l'ultima notasi spegnesse dolcemente nell'aria,«chi ama le storie riconosce sempre chi le cerca.» Si alzò, si aggiustò la giacca con un gesto elegante,e la guardò con occhi pieni di stelle. «Sai dove sei?» «Nella biblioteca del paese,» rispose Elisa,ma la sua voce tremava un po',come se sapesse che la risposta era un'altra. «Quella la conoscono tutti,» disse Leopoldo,scendendo piano dal palco.«Ogni paese ne ha una che tutti conoscono.Ma ogni paese ne ha anche un'altra —una che quasi nessuno trova.» Fece una pausa, gli occhi che brillavano. «Tu hai trovato la seconda.» --- Leopoldo la guidò verso una grande porta di legnoche Elisa avrebbe giurato non esserci un attimo prima.Si aprì lentamente, senza rumore,come un sospiro trattenuto troppo a lungo. E quello che vide le tolse il fiato. Scaffali infiniti si arrampicavano verso l'alto,scendevano verso il basso,si estendevano in ogni direzionecome spirali di galassie fatte di carta e sogni.Candele galleggiavano ovunque,illuminando libri che sembravano respirare,pulsare piano,come cuori addormentati. «Che posto è questo?» sussurrò Elisa. «Questa,» disse Leopoldo camminando tra gli scaffali,«è la biblioteca dei libri mai scritti.» Elisa lo seguì, confusa.«Libri mai scritti? Ma come possono esistere?» Leopoldo si fermò, si voltò,e la guardò con dolcezza infinita. «Ogni storia sognata esiste, Elisa.Ogni avventura immaginata prima di dormire.Ogni racconto pensato ma mai messo su carta.Vivono tutti qui,al confine tra il mondo e il sogno,aspettando.» --- Si fermarono davanti a uno scaffale. Leopoldo indicò un libro piccolo,rilegato in blu come un cielo d'estate. «Toccalo,» disse piano. Elisa allungò la mano, esitante,e sfiorò la copertina. Un calore gentile le attraversò le dita.E per un istante — solo un istante —sentì una risata di bambino,vide un drago fatto di nuvole,e un castello costruito con cuscini e coperte. «Questo,» disse Leopoldo,«era il sogno di un bambino di sei anni.Una storia che raccontava ogni sera al suo orsacchiotto.Non l'ha mai scritta.Ma esiste. Vedi? Esiste.» Elisa sorrise, il cuore leggero. --- Camminarono ancora,tra corridoi di storie silenziose,finché Leopoldo si fermò davanti a un altro libro. Questo era diverso.Più grande, rilegato in pelle scura,con lettere dorate che sembravano tremare. «E questo?» chiese Elisa, piano. «Questo,» disse Leopoldo,e la sua voce si fece morbida come una carezza,«apparteneva a una nonna.» Elisa lo toccò. E sentì qualcosa di diverso. Non una risata, questa volta.Ma una voce calda, lontana,che raccontava di una bambina coraggiosache attraversava un bosco incantatoper portare la luce a un villaggio dimenticato. «Era la storia che voleva lasciare ai suoi nipoti,»spiegò Leopoldo.«Ma il tempo... il tempo a volte corre più veloce dei sogni.Non ha fatto in tempo a scriverla.» Elisa sentì gli occhi pizzicare. «Ma è qui,» sussurrò. «È qui,» confermò Leopoldo.«Per sempre.» --- Continuarono a camminare, in silenzio,finché arrivarono a uno scaffale diverso dagli altri. Era quasi vuoto.Solo pochi libri, distanziati,e tanti spazi aperti, in attesa. Al centro, un libro senza titolo. La copertina era bianca, pulita,come neve appena caduta,come una pagina che aspetta il primo segno. «Posso?» chiese Elisa. Leopoldo annuì. Lo toccò. Niente.Nessun calore. Nessuna voce.Solo silenzio.Ma un silenzio pieno,come un respiro trattenuto. «Questo libro è vuoto,» disse Elisa, sorpresa. «Non ancora scritto,» corresse Leopoldo.«Nemmeno sognato. Non ancora.Aspetta qualcuno che trovi il coraggiodi immaginarlo.» Si voltò verso di lei,e i suoi occhi brillaronocome le candele che fluttuavano intorno. «Forse aspetta te.Forse aspetta qualcun altro.Ma aspetta.» --- Elisa rimase ferma,a guardare quel libro bianco. E capì. Capì che ogni storia che aveva immaginato,ogni avventura inventata prima di dormire,ogni sogno che credeva perso al risveglio,esisteva da qualche parte. E capì qualcos'altro. Che non bisogna avere paura di scrivere. Perché le storie esistono già —nel cuore, nella mente, nei sogni.Metterle su cartanon è crearle dal nulla.È solo aprire una portae lasciarle uscire. --- «Devo andare, vero?» disse Elisa, piano. Leopoldo sorrise.«Il tuo mondo ti aspetta.Ma ora sai che questo posto esiste.E sai che ogni storia che sogneraiavrà sempre un posto qui,che tu la scriva o no.» Fece una pausa. «Ma se la scrivi,» aggiunse con un sorriso furbo,«potrà vivere anche là fuori.E quella, mia cara, è un'altra magia ancora.» --- Elisa si ritrovò nel corridoio della villa,seduta sulla poltrona un po' troppo grande per lei,il libro ancora sotto il braccio. La festa continuava,voci e musica e risate,come se il tempo non fosse mai passato. Ma qualcosa era cambiato. Lei era cambiata. Aprì il libro che stava leggendo,guardò le pagine,e sorrise. Poi lo chiuse. Perché adesso sapevache le storie più bellenon sono solo quelle che leggiamo. Sono quelle che portiamo dentro,quelle che sogniamo ad occhi aperti,e quelle che un giorno,con un po' di coraggio,osiamo raccontare. --- *— Scritta da Marco Ciappelli*   Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

LA BIBLIOTECA SECRETA DE LEOPOLDOHay gente extraña —les gusta pasar las noches leyendo libros.Otros son aún más extraños —creen en la magia que se esconde entre las páginas,en aventuras fantásticas,en historias de amores imposibles,en fantasmas que caminan entre los vivos,y piensan que todo lo que no existe —quizás sí existe.En fin, esta historia es para los que son un poco extraños,como tú y como yo —ya sabes, para los que.Entonces… escucha.Si desde el centro del pueblo tomas el camino hacia el monte,encontrarás una villa vieja y noble,que lleva ahí mucho tiempo.Serán unos 350 añosque está ahí en silencio,observando y respirando despaciobajo el cielo toscano.Salones enormes llenos de historia,pasillos sin fin,y ventanas grandes como sueños —pero ahora, en lugar de platos y figuritas de porcelana,nos regala historias en papel para quien quiera leerlas.Sí, ahora es la biblioteca del pueblo —un poco apartada, pero tan hermosa.Bueno, no se puede tener todo.Pues bien, sucedió que,en una noche de verano,envuelta en un manto de estrellasy la luz suave de faroles delicados,la villa se había llenado de voces, música, sonrisas,y tantas historias contadas y escuchadas,en voz alta o susurradas,que se entrelazaban en el abrazo de la fiesta.Sin duda una noche ya especial,pero presta atención,porque algo aún más inusual estaba por suceder.Sí, porque Elisa también estaba allí.Ojos grandes como el cielo,cabello oscuro como la noche,y un libro en la mano — como siempre.A pesar de todo lo que pasaba a su alrededor,Elisa prefería leer.Estaba allí, en el pasillo principal:entre el jardín y el patio interior,a medio camino entre lo seguro y el quizás,sentada en un sillón un poco grande para ella,sumergida en una historia misteriosa y cautivadora —en un mundo todo suyo.Pasa una página, luego otra,se acomoda los lentes amarillos,y pasa otra página…Cuando lentamenteel eco de una música de pianollegó a sus oídos.No le prestó mucha atención.Creyendo que venía del patio,pasó otra página — y luego otra.Pero pronto se dio cuentade que las notas que escuchabano venían del patio de la villa,sino de uno de sus pasillos —traídas por una brisa suave,desde lugares lejanos y sin tiempo.Sin pensarlo mucho,Elisa se levantó en silencio,se puso el libro bajo el brazo,y siguió la música.Atravesó antiguos pasillosy salas con estantes llenos de librosde todos los tamaños y colores imaginables —arcoíris de pensamientos y palabras en filaque parecían no terminar nunca.Mientras la música se hacía más fuerte,la luz disminuía,las salas que atravesabacomenzaban a parecer olvidadas,las escaleras de piedra que subía y bajabagastadas por el tiempo,los pasillos laterales eran ahora pasajes oscurosiluminados solo por antorchas en las paredes,que aparecían y desaparecían en la oscuridadcomo respiraciones.Una escalera,una puerta de madera entreabierta,otro pasaje,otra escalera,y más salas y estantes y libros sin fin.Luego, de pronto,una neblina cubrió el suelocomo una marea gentil,y frente a ella una gran cortina pesada —entreabierta.Se veía un poco de luzy unas pequeñas escaleras de madera.Las subió, esas pequeñas escaleras,y la música la envolvió como un abrazo.En el escenario, velas flotaban en el airecomo luciérnagas en una noche sin tiempo.Y allí, en el centro,sentado frente a un piano pequeñito,había un ratón.Pero no un ratón cualquiera.Leopoldo llevaba una chaqueta de tweed verde oscuro,pantalones marrones planchados con cuidado,y en su hociquito, unos lentes doradosque brillaban con una sabiduría antigua y gentil.Sus dedos danzaban sobre las teclascomo si estuvieran contando un secreto.«Bienvenida, Elisa», dijo, sin dejar de tocar.«Te estaba esperando.»Elisa parpadeó, encantada.«¿Cómo sabes mi nombre?»«Ah», sonrió Leopoldo, dejando que la última notase apagara suavemente en el aire,«quien ama las historias siempre reconoce a quien las busca.»Se levantó, se ajustó la chaqueta con un gesto elegante,y la miró con ojos llenos de estrellas.«¿Sabes dónde estás?»«En la biblioteca del pueblo», respondió Elisa,pero su voz temblaba un poco,como si supiera que la respuesta era otra.«Esa la conocen todos», dijo Leopoldo,bajando despacio del escenario.«Cada pueblo tiene una que todos conocen.Pero cada pueblo también tiene otra —una que casi nadie encuentra.»Hizo una pausa, los ojos brillando.«Tú has encontrado la segunda.»• • •Leopoldo la guió hacia una gran puerta de maderaque Elisa habría jurado que no estaba ahí un momento antes.Se abrió lentamente, sin ruido,como un suspiro contenido demasiado tiempo.Y lo que vio le quitó el aliento.Estantes infinitos trepaban hacia arriba,descendían hacia abajo,se extendían en todas direccionescomo espirales de galaxias hechas de papel y sueños.Velas flotaban por todas partes,iluminando libros que parecían respirar,latir despacio,como corazones dormidos.«¿Qué lugar es este?», susurró Elisa.«Esta», dijo Leopoldo caminando entre los estantes,«es la biblioteca de los libros nunca escritos.»Elisa lo siguió, confundida.«¿Libros nunca escritos? ¿Pero cómo pueden existir?»Leopoldo se detuvo, se volvió,y la miró con dulzura infinita.«Cada historia soñada existe, Elisa.Cada aventura imaginada antes de dormir.Cada cuento pensado pero nunca puesto en papel.Todos viven aquí,en la frontera entre el mundo y el sueño,esperando.»• • •Se detuvieron frente a un estante.Leopoldo señaló un libro pequeño,encuadernado en azul como un cielo de verano.«Tócalo», dijo suavemente.Elisa extendió la mano, vacilante,y rozó la portada.Un calor gentil le atravesó los dedos.Y por un instante — solo un instante —escuchó la risa de un niño,vio un dragón hecho de nubes,y un castillo construido con almohadas y mantas.«Este», dijo Leopoldo,«era el sueño de un niño de seis años.Una historia que le contaba cada noche a su osito de peluche.Nunca la escribió.Pero existe. ¿Ves? Existe.»Elisa sonrió, el corazón ligero.• • •Caminaron más,por pasillos de historias silenciosas,hasta que Leopoldo se detuvo frente a otro libro.Este era diferente.Más grande, encuadernado en cuero oscuro,con letras doradas que parecían temblar.«¿Y este?», preguntó Elisa, bajito.«Este», dijo Leopoldo,y su voz se hizo suave como una caricia,«pertenecía a una abuela.»Elisa lo tocó.Y sintió algo diferente.No una risa, esta vez.Sino una voz cálida, lejana,que contaba de una niña valienteque atravesaba un bosque encantadopara llevar la luz a un pueblo olvidado.«Era la historia que quería dejarles a sus nietos»,explicó Leopoldo.«Pero el tiempo… el tiempo a veces corre más rápido que los sueños.No le alcanzó el tiempo para escribirla.»Elisa sintió que le ardían los ojos.«Pero está aquí», susurró.«Está aquí», confirmó Leopoldo.«Para siempre.»• • •Siguieron caminando, en silencio,hasta que llegaron a un estante diferente a los demás.Estaba casi vacío.Solo unos pocos libros, espaciados,y tantos espacios abiertos, esperando.En el centro, un libro sin título.La portada era blanca, limpia,como nieve recién caída,como una página esperando su primera marca.«¿Puedo?», preguntó Elisa.Leopoldo asintió.Lo tocó.Nada.Ningún calor. Ninguna voz.Solo silencio.Pero un silencio lleno,como un aliento contenido.«Este libro está vacío», dijo Elisa, sorprendida.«Aún no escrito», corrigió Leopoldo.«Ni siquiera soñado. Todavía no.Espera a alguien que encuentre el corajede imaginarlo.»Se volvió hacia ella,y sus ojos brillaroncomo las velas que flotaban alrededor.«Quizás te espera a ti.Quizás espera a alguien más.Pero espera.»• • •Elisa se quedó quieta,mirando aquel libro blanco.Y comprendió.Comprendió que cada historia que había imaginado,cada aventura inventada antes de dormir,cada sueño que creía perdido al despertar,existía en algún lugar.Y comprendió algo más.Que no hay que tener miedo de escribir.Porque las historias ya existen —en el corazón, en la mente, en los sueños.Ponerlas en papelno es crearlas de la nada.Es solo abrir una puertay dejarlas salir.• • •«Tengo que irme, ¿verdad?», dijo Elisa, bajito.Leopoldo sonrió.«Tu mundo te espera.Pero ahora sabes que este lugar existe.Y sabes que cada historia que sueñessiempre tendrá un lugar aquí,la escribas o no.»Hizo una pausa.«Pero si la escribes», añadió con una sonrisa pícara,«podrá vivir también allá afuera.Y esa, mi querida, es otra magia todavía.»• • •Elisa se encontró de nuevo en el pasillo de la villa,sentada en el sillón un poco grande para ella,el libro todavía bajo el brazo.La fiesta continuaba,voces y música y risas,como si el tiempo nunca hubiera pasado.Pero algo había cambiado.Ella había cambiado.Abrió el libro que estaba leyendo,miró las páginas,y sonrió.Luego lo cerró.Porque ahora sabíaque las historias más bellasno son solo las que leemos.Son las que llevamos dentro,las que soñamos con los ojos abiertos,y las que un día,con un poco de coraje,nos atrevemos a contar.— Esta historia fue escrita por Marco Ciappelli para "Storie Sotto Le Stelle" Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Mireya Hernández nos presenta Veo el mundo como una gran sinfonía (Ed. Pepitas), libro inclasificable en el que conecta, a la manera de los hipervínculos de internet, sucesos de los siglos XIX y XX para ofrecernos la partitura de nuestro tiempo.Luego, Javier Lostalé recuerda el legado de Leopoldo de Luis, voz fundamental de nuestra poesía social de posguerra, ahora que se cumplen veinticinco años de su muerte. Su obra está disponible en los catálogos de las editoriales Visor y Renacimiento.En su sección, Ignacio Elguero se detiene hoy en un solo título: La belleza y el dolor (Ed. Visor), iniciativa solidaria que reúne poemas inéditos de más de una cincuentena de autores españoles con el fin de recaudar fondos para la investigación de enfermedades raras.En Peligro en La estación nuestro colaborador Sergio C. Fanjul nos pone tras la pista de Izumi Suzuki, escritora japonesa de culto con una vida muy azarosa de la que se acaba de publicar por primera vez en español una obra suya, Aburridísima (Ed. Consonni), colección de inquietantes relatos de ciencia ficción escritos en los ochenta.Terminamos Desmontando el poema junto a Mariano Peyrou, que nos hace una recomendación entusiasta: Pábilun (Ed. Ultramarinos), un poemario bilingüe en español y asturiano de Xaime Martínez que subyuga por su capacidad para integrar referencias y registros de todo tipo.Escuchar audio

It's a Fireside Chat with the Rev. Dr. Leopoldo Sanchez (Professor of Systematic Theology, Werner R.H. Krause and Elizabeth Ringger Krause Professor of Hispanic Ministries, Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, MO) who joins us to talk about the Holy Spirit's work in the Christmas story. As you grab your morning coffee (and pastry, let's be honest), join hosts Andy Bates and Sarah Gulseth as they bring you stories of the intersection of Lutheran life and a secular world. Catch real-life stories of mercy work of the LCMS and partners, updates from missionaries across the ocean, and practical talk about how to live boldly Lutheran. Have a topic you'd like to hear about on The Coffee Hour? Contact us at: listener@kfuo.org.

María Corina Machado ya no es "diferente". En este video desmontamos la narrativa de “ahora sí es distinto”, luego de que apareciera en Oslo rodeada de los mismos personajes de la falsa oposición que tanto daño le han hecho al país: Leopoldo López, Antonio Ledezma, David Smolansky, Miguel Pizarro, entre otros.¿No era que ellos eran la casta corrupta? ¿No era que estaban vetados de su proyecto político? Hoy vemos cómo se abrazan y se felicitan en un mismo evento, confirmando que todo esto ha sido una gran simulación. Además, analizamos cómo María Corina ha pasado a formar parte de la diáspora, mientras ahora habla por los venezolanos desde el extranjero. ¿No decían que si estabas afuera no tenías derecho a opinar? ¿O eso solo aplica cuando no estás alineado con la narrativa del momento?Este video es una reflexión directa sobre las incoherencias, las pugnas internas dentro de su equipo y cómo los mismos de siempre terminan reapareciendo. ¿María Corina es la esperanza o solo un nuevo rostro del mismo poder?

Luis Herrero analiza junto a Luca Costantini y Maite Loureiro las novedades judiciales que implican al PSOE.

Por primera vez en la historia de la democracia reciente, un diputado en activo ha entrado en prisión. José Luis Ábalos, exministro de Transportes y quien fuera mano derecha de Pedro Sánchez, ha ingresado tan solo 8 días después de que Santos Cerdán, su sucesor en la Secretaría de Organización, saliera de Soto del Real.Ábalos, hombre fuerte del Gobierno de Sánchez y quien pronunció el discurso de la moción de censura que le llevó al poder, entra en la cárcel el mismo día que su asesor, Koldo García. Ambos habían sido muy críticos con el Gobierno apenas 24 horas antes de ingresar en prisión.Ábalos cargó en X contra Pedro Sánchez y Yolanda Díaz, mientras que Koldo concedió una entrevista a OK Diario en la que asegura que escuchó al presidente decir que su suegro aportaba 100.000 euros para las primarias. Con los dos en prisión, ¿tirarán de la manta? En el capítulo de hoy, con la ayuda de Fernando Garea, adjunto al director de EL ESPAÑOL, analizamos este jueves negro para Moncloa: Aldama en la Audiencia Nacional apuntando a Ángel Víctor Torres; un exministro en prisión; y en el Congreso ha caído la senda de déficit —el paso previo a la aprobación de los Presupuestos—, todo ello en plena escalada judicial.

Descrizione per il sito: Una storia che intreccia quella vera, con la S maiuscola, e che parte da lontano: la Rivolta Carmignani, fondata in provincia di Monza nel 1867, da oltre 150 anni produce biancheria, tovaglie e lenzuola per la casa, per alberghi e per ristoranti di lusso. Un tempo fornitrice delle case delle grandi monarchie europee e di storici transatlantici oltre che dei primi grand hotel, l'azienda ha attraversato la crisi del '29, le due guerre mondiali e ogni epoca fino ad oggi mantenendo intatta la qualità e l'abilità sartoriale, in Italia e nel mondo. Ci guida in questo lungo viaggio Matteo Rivolta, Ceo della Rivolta Carmignani che rappresenta la quinta generazione, in continuità con il trisnonno Leopoldo che a fine '800 da allevatore di bachi da seta decise di dedicarsi alla tessitura.

RESUMEN INFORMATIVO 

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RESUMEN INFORMATIVO 

Resumen informativo con las noticias más destacadas de Colombia del jueves 20 de noviembre de 2025 a las cinco de la tarde.

Descubre la mágica historia de Navidad en este cuento infantil, perfecto para escuchar en familia. Acompaña a Samuel y Janette mientras visitan a su abuelo Leopoldo y descubren la increíble aventura de Gus, el elfo de Santa Claus. Este podcast para niños está lleno de magia navideña, aventuras infantiles y valores familiares, ideal para vivir la emoción de la temporada y fomentar la imaginación de los pequeños.Bienvenidos a Había una vez, un podcast de cuentos para niños y niñas donde podrás escuchar cuentos cortos y divertidos. Nuestros cuentos infantiles están hechos para educar, entretener y divertir a los peques, si amas los cuentos para dormir, llegaste el lugar indicado. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Editorial | El legado imperecedero de Leopoldo Díaz

BuffStampede.com reporter Oliver Hayes and Sko Buffs Sports reporter Leopoldo Rivera break down CU's trip to Kansas City.

Las reformas al Código Fiscal de la Federación podrían poner en riesgo la privacidad y libertad en internet

For the ad-free version of this episode, subscribe to Politicology+ at https://politicology.com/plus In this episode Ron talks to Leopoldo Lopez (Venezuelan opposition leader and co-founder and general secretary of the World Liberty Congress) about his journey fighting for freedom against the Maduro regime. They discuss the collapse of democracy in Venezuela, the importance of grassroots movements, and the role of Bitcoin as a revolutionary tool for freedom.  They also touch on the human toll of autocracy, the power of music and identity, and the need for open-source technologies and philanthropy to support democracy and the fight against autocracy.  They discuss: (2:50) Bitcoin as a tool for freedom  (5:56) Leopolodo's journey  (8:49) The collapse of democracy in Venezuela  (14:44) The fight against Maduro's regime  (20:57) The human toll of autocracy  (23:52) The power of music and identity  (27:07) Bitcoin and the future of freedom  (30:00) Decentralized resistance and global movements  (32:33) The role of philanthropy in democracy  (35:12) The future of money and values  (41:24) The importance of open source technologies  (44:11) The potential of Bitcoin in Venezuela  (47:02) Creating a new economic paradigm  (50:00) The crisis of trust in institutions  (53:07) The role of citizens in democracy  (56:03) The future of autocracies and democracies  (58:49) The path forward for freedom  This episode features a sample of the song “Free Venezuela” by Alejandro Preschel with permission from the artist: https://open.spotify.com/track/3n8Ik5DLU1ql6BixMGmq9q?si=636cb6290ea44e6a Lean more about the World Liberty Congress here: https://worldlibertycongress.org/  Find our sponsor links and promo codes here: https://bit.ly/44uAGZ8 Get 15% off OneSkin with the code RON at  https://www.oneskin.co/ #oneskinpod Send your questions and ideas to podcast@politicology.com or leave a voicemail at ‪(703) 239-3068‬ Follow Ron and Leopoldo  on X: https://twitter.com/RonSteslow https://x.com/leopoldolopez Email your questions to podcast@politicology.com or leave us a voicemail at ‪‪(703) 239-3068‬ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

La Universidad Nacional de Colombia, la institución de educación superior pública más importante del país, atraviesa un momento de profunda incertidumbre y agitación, con dos rectores en disputa y un fallo del Consejo de Estado que ha avivado el debate sobre la autonomía universitaria y la democracia académica.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Conversamos com Leopoldo Nakata sobre sua carreira e trajetória na montagem de longas e séries nacionais.ApresentaçãoRafa Costa: instagram.com/rafacostaeditorMarcelo Porto: instagram.com/porto.softConvidadosLeopoldo Nakata: instagram.com/nakatajoeArtesDaniel Brito: instagram.com/dbritoSala VIPhttps://apoia.se/saladeedicaoSeja você também um apoiador do Sala VIP, ganhe benefícios exclusivos e faça parte do nosso grupo do Telegram!Canal do Telegramhttps://t.me/saladeedicaoSiga o canal do Sala de Edição e fique por dentro das promoções, descontos dos patrocinadores, pesquisas e novidades sobre o podcast.Canais:www.saladeedicao.com.brinstagram.com/saladeedicaoyoutube.com/@saladeedicaoTelegram: t.me/saladeedicao

We interview Leopoldo Cabassa and Dani Adams about implementation sciences' role in Psychedelic Assisted Therapy. We talk about the evidence for psychedelic assisted therapy, its implementation barriers and facilitators, the role of implementation science in moving psychedelic assited therapy from the clinic to the field, and we'll get them started on some excellent rants about implementation science. Discussed during the show: Trickett, E. J. (2011). From “water boiling in a Peruvian town” to “letting them die”: Culture, community intervention, and the metabolic balance between patience and zeal. American Journal of Community Psychology, 47, 58-68. Raghavan, R., Bright, C. L., & Shadoin, A. L. (2008). Toward a policy ecology of implementation of evidence-based practices in public mental health settings. Implementation Science, 3, 1-9. Palinkas, L. A., Allred, C. A., & Landsverk, J. A. (2005). Models of research-operational collaboration for behavioral health in space. Aviation, space, and environmental medicine, 76(6), B52-B60. https://socialwork.columbia.edu/directory/heidi-l-allen https://sites.wustl.edu/centerforpsychedelics/ @daniadams  

O convidado do programa Pânico dessa terça-feira (22) é Paulo Mathias.Paulo Mathias iniciou sua trajetória no rádio como analista do programa Jornal da Manhã, da Jovem Pan. Em 2020, assumiu o comando do 3em1, substituindo Vitor Brown, que migrou para o Os Pingos nos Is. Logo depois, passou a apresentar o Morning Show, após a saída de Edgar Picoli, que se desligou da emissora.Em 2024, Paulo Mathias pediu demissão da Jovem Pan e foi anunciado como um dos apresentadores do Chega Mais, no SBT, ao lado de Michelle Barros e Regina Volpato. O matinal passou a disputar audiência com o Mais Você da Globo e o Hoje em Dia, da Record. Sua contratação aconteceu graças à insistência de Leon Abravanel Jr., telespectador da Jovem Pan, que desejava levar alguém do canal para a grade do SBT.Durante uma edição ao vivo, em 22 de março, Mathias passou por um exame de imagem para mostrar ao público como funciona o procedimento e acabou descobrindo, diante das câmeras, um nódulo na tireoide. Em maio do mesmo ano, enquanto cobria a situação de um abrigo superlotado em São Leopoldo, no Rio Grande do Sul, durante as enchentes, um cachorro o abraçou no meio da reportagem. Ele acabou adotando o animal, que havia perdido seu dono e foi batizado de “Leopoldo”. Pouco tempo depois, viralizou ao se arriscar na “Dança da Quicada” ao lado de Regina Volpato.Redes Sociais:Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/paulomathias/Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@CanalDoPauloMathias

En entrevista con Daniel Guerra en ausencia de Ana Francisca Vega para MVS noticias, Leopoldo Maldonado de Articulo 19 explicó que existen denuncias contra periodistas cada tres semanas en México y advirtió que litigios buscan restringir libertad de expresión.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Redes Sociales:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Instagram⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Facebook⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Twitter (X)⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠

¿Puede un aristócrata alemán del siglo XVIII ser travesti, fan de Napoleón, autor de la primera novela gay moderna… y antepasado directo de la reina Victoria? En este episodio de Grandes Maricas de la Historia, viajamos al ducado de Sajonia-Gotha-Altemburgo para conocer a Augusto, un duque que se hacía llamar “Emilie” entre sus amistades, prefería los vestidos de seda a los uniformes militares y escribió "Un año en Arcadia", una novela en la que los pastores se enamoran entre ellos… y nadie muere al final. ¿Estamos ante una figura trans avant la lettre? ¿O ante un homosexual romántico que encontró en la Grecia clásica el único lugar donde su deseo podía florecer sin castigo? A través de cartas, historias y habitaciones decoradas con soles napoleónicos y lunas con su propia cara, descubrimos a un hombre que fue demasiado libre para su época… y demasiado incómodo para su dinastía. Un episodio lleno de sutileza, escándalo y lirismo queer, donde la literatura se convierte en refugio y resistencia. Las músicas las podéis encontrar aquí: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/04KJH170U1WRU1No9PnrxV?si=9dcef52744494180

United States v. Leopoldo Rivera-Valdes

United States v. Leopoldo Rivera-Valdes

La Oveja, la Moneda y el Hijo - Pastor Leopoldo Perales by Iglesia Bautista Bíblica de Long Beach

Conversé con Leopoldo Maldonado, director de Artículo 19, sobre la realidad brutal del periodismo en México.Los números son escalofriantes, con 3,408 agresiones documentadas y un incremento del 50% en violencia comparado con el sexenio anterior, México lidera también en periodistas desaparecidos.El diagnóstico es claro: la impunidad del 98% protege a los autores intelectuales de los ataques a periodistas, mientras hay campañas de desprestigio desde el poder, considerando las agresiones en las conferencias mañaneras de la Presidencia. "Estamos sobre informados pero desinformados": entre la destrucción institucional y la normalización de la violencia, los periodistas que ayudaron a AMLO llegar al poder ahora enfrentan su aniquilamiento moral.Esta es una conversación urgente sobre democracia, verdad y la necesidad de nuevas formas de lucha.Suscríbete a mi canal: https://www.youtube.com/@saskiandrSígueme y conversemos:https://instagram.com/saskianino https://tiktok.com/@saskianino https://x.com/saskianino

Conversé con Leopoldo Maldonado, director de Artículo 19, sobre la realidad brutal del periodismo en México. Los números son escalofriantes, con 3,408 agresiones documentadas y un incremento del 50% en violencia comparado con el sexenio anterior, México lidera también en periodistas desaparecidos. El diagnóstico es claro: la impunidad del 98% protege a los autores intelectuales de los ataques a periodistas, mientras hay campañas de desprestigio desde el poder, considerando las agresiones en las conferencias mañaneras de la Presidencia. "Estamos sobre informados pero desinformados": entre la destrucción institucional y la normalización de la violencia, los periodistas que ayudaron a AMLO llegar al poder ahora enfrentan su aniquilamiento moral. Esta es una conversación urgente sobre democracia, verdad y la necesidad de nuevas formas de lucha. Suscríbete a mi canal: https://www.youtube.com/@saskiandr Sígueme y conversemos: https://instagram.com/saskianino https://tiktok.com/@saskianino https://x.com/saskianino Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A pesar de ser su madrastra, el emperador Leopoldo I siempre la trató como "madre" y tuvieron una relación muy cercana. No en vano Leopoldo era un niño cuando su padre, dos veces viudo, se casó con Leonor, que era la nieta de Margarita de Saboya de la que hablábamos en el episodio anterior.En una Corte en la que no había emperatriz, Leonor se erigió como la mujer más influyente del Hofburg y provocó una italianización de la misma, que fue lo que se encontró la infanta Margarita cuando llegó a Viena.Hoy la conocemos.

Dr. Leopoldo Sánchez, professor of systematic theology and Dr. Jeff Oschwald, professor of exegetical theology, discuss the role of the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of Luke. “You've got to ‘land the dove,' listening to what the Spirit was doing in the life of Jesus and in our lives,” said Sánchez. “The presence of God is in Jesus in a completely unique way, and yet he draws us into that by the gift of his Spirit to us,” said Oschwald. Join this discussion about Spirit Christology and its impact in our daily lives.

A primeira colônia alemã fundada no Rio Grande do Sul, em São Leopoldo, no ano de 1824, foi palco de um movimento denominado Mucker, que começou a se formar em 1868. Colonos se reuniram em torno da liderança de Jacobina Mentz Maurer e João Jorge Maurer na região do Ferrabraz, hoje parte do município de Sapiranga.  A influência de Jacobina, considerada uma profetisa, atraiu seguidores que acreditavam em sua capacidade de curar e de guiá-los espiritualmente, o que logo despertou desconfiança e resistência entre as autoridades e outros colonos da região do Vale do Rio dos Sinos.  Esse movimento, que misturava religião e resistência social, evoluiu para um confronto violento conhecido como a Revolta dos Muckers. A Revolta envolveu o grupo liderado por Jacobina e as autoridades locais, que viam o movimento como uma ameaça à ordem estabelecida. As tensões aumentaram devido ao isolamento religioso dos muckers e suas críticas às instituições locais, como a igreja e a medicina convencional. A comunidade ao redor começou a enxergá-los como fanáticos perigosos, o que levou a conflitos armados.  É sobre a líder Jacobina Mentz e a Revolta dos Muckers que Andrei Fernandes, Rafael Jacaúna e Tupá Guerra abordarão no Mundo Freak Confidencial. Para mais informações sobre os cursos da ALURA na Black Friday, clique aqui   Confira peças essenciais da INSIDER nessa Black Friday aqui Cupom Insider: MUNDOFREAKBF