la tragedia de cuernavaca

Con disculpas al lector, tendré que aprovechar este espacio para decirle al mundo de la triste realidad de mi pueblo Cuernavaca.

Antes le decían el lugar de la eterna primavera. Un nuevo edén. Mi mamá me cuenta de un tiempo en Cuernavaca donde los niños bajaban a la barranca a cortar guayabas. Qué triste que esa realidad se haya acabado, porque con la llegada de miles y miles y miles de personas del otras partes de la república, el nuevo edén se convirtió en otro pueblo más, contaminado y altamente transitado. Ya nadie le importa el lugar donde vive porque ahí no es su casa, no vienen de ahí. Ahí no nacieron. Ahí no es su casa, y creo que Zapata estaría de acuerdo conmigo porque la tierra es de quien la trabaja. Bola de huevones ignorantes.

Ahora es un basurero Cuernavaca, literalmente. Hace un tiempo los dueños del terreno donde el gobierno llevaba la basura impidieron el paso de los camiones de basura. El gobierno dejó de recoger basura pero la gente no dejaba de tirarla. Y como nadie la recogía se amontonaba en las esquinas, en las calles, por todas partes. Y nadie hace nada más quejarse y tirar más basura. Se ha amontonado, hay muros de basura. La sociedad se ha revuelca en la suciedad. Nadie hace nada. Con pena digo que mi pueblo es un basurero y con pena digo que soy de Cuernavaca, de ahí de donde la gente no recoge su basura.

Seguramente se resolverá el problema, pero mientras los mantendré al tanto de los acontecimientos de mi pueblo, de mi lindo basurero, Cuernavaca.

http://diarreaverbal.blogspot.com

de Tiempo is pánico

El lenguaje es la socialización del tiempo. Todo lenguaje, verbal, científico o plástico, es revolucionario; establece la propiedad comunal de sus objetos aún antes de que las formas económicas y políticas lo logren; las anuncia.

-Carlos Fuentes
Tiempo Mexicano

Aftermath

After Philosophy class, I made the decision to change paths to where I've always wanted to walk, (to the left, rather than to the right of the North Gate back entrance), and I did.

I walked through the makeshift tunnel (there's construction going on) and I saw a bunch of signs pointing somewhere. Curious, I walked in. I asked what the event was about. The door-person, I guess, couldn't tell me all the details I wanted to know, but basically, I just wanted to know if it was worth my time. It was.

The photographer, Joel Meyerowitz, had talked his way into Ground Zero. I just needed to know how he did that. The pictures touched me. I almost cried when I remembered the firemen and the good people whowere there at Gound Zero. Joel said it was a spiritual experience, Ground Zero. It was a place where all this humanity emerged.

a mí me impresionó el manhattan bedrock. que está como 6'8 pisos debajo de la tierra.

He said that the police wouldn't let him in because of Chief Fellini's orders. But then when he went away, he went to the firemen and when they sai he could take the pictures, he said that chief feliini told him to, and he pointed the way. he always asked who the chief was, and knew where to point.

he called the city museum and said that he would provide them with an archive if they would write a letter granting him access. he did, but the police still didn't let him in, until his friend gave him passes.

he camouflaged some times.

write on images, always have a magazine and a working pen nearby. new yorker magazine.

he luxuriated in the science of it

Cosas interesantes

Qué es un satélite (en inglés) http://www.boeing.com/defense-space/space/bss/sat101.html

Con un poco más de detalle (en inglés)
http://www.ucsusa.org/global_security/space_weapons/technical-implications-of-space-weapons-and-general-conclusions.html

Porqué estudiamos al sol (en inglés)
http://solarscience.msfc.nasa.gov/whysolar.shtml

Pray for peace in Mexico

I pray for no political violence in Mexico eg. PRI v. PRD v. PAN. (accusations of weapons planting, political arrests, social unrest). It could get really bad if the powers that be allow this to happen. If there isn't any clarity, transperency, and accountability in Mexico's government , then people will demand a change. The only problem will be if the powers that be will allow it. Calderón likes telling people to get to work. There are some people who run their own (small) businesses. He shouldn't just support a few producers. He should support all of them. He shouldn't just tell us what to do, but he should practice what he preaches.

Reasons

Everything has its reasons in politics. Rove and the bunch are trying to hurt the constitution so that when the next group takes power, they'll be too busy trying to fix it while they get away. or move on to the next item on the agenda, whatever it may be.

North Korea and War

Once North Korea has a means of delivering a nuclear warhead to anywhere in the world, they can take a country, like Japan, hostage from a distance. I don't think that North Korea's as stupid as they look. something serious is going on. They tested a nuclear bomb underground, assuming they did. and assuming they did, and it was full yield (and not a dud), then there's a lot of things we don't know what's happening. How deep was the tunnel where they tested it? What's that tunnel made of? Are there any more? Tunnels? Nukes? In this age of satellites and gadgetry, if someone can spy on the pope shining a laser on a window, how can we not hear an entire country? It's a bit of a stretch for me.

But I have to wonder if there are any more underground tunnels between countries. If the Chunnel could be built, then maybe there are tunnels linking China and North Korea, or North Korea and South Korea, for instance. That said, I think if North Korea and other countries have underground bases, then I think the most prudent thing for a military to invest in at this point are diggers, and by that I mean machines that dig holes in the ground.

3 steps to chaos

3-step plot to weaken America:

1) George Bush is not meant to inspire nor to be a great president. Since he doesn't and isn't (and how!). Let's take this a bit further and pretend that that is intentional. It's a part of the plan of that's exactly part of their game. he's meant to be seen as stupid. because that way all the attention is on him and his stupidity can be blamed for “what goes wrong.” The powerful actors behind the scenes go largely ignored.

2) Create a pretext and involve self in military unrest in the Middle East. Basically have a war for the hell of it, but not on our soil, because the pretext of war gives excuse for the chipping away at our constitution, because we're in “a state of war” fighting “the enemy” who are “terrorists”. Since there's no actual war on the soil, people can continue on their daily lives without being directly affected by it. But there's still a war out there that we are involved in. It is important to keep the discourse about war nebulous and not very concrete.

3) Weaken the state financially by spending wastefully (“That's your chance to become rich,” said the old man in the suit), borrowing money heavily from other countries, organizations. Create false indicators of wealth to which all should strive to improve. Distract people with consumption. Social services provided by the government worsen because of decreased funding. Soon for-profit private organizations replace formerly free or low-cost services. The actors in that free market are not held to accountability by any other power.

The Spirit of Truth shines on

Seriously, we got ourselves a problem. we got a stupid president. and i don't feel smart saying that. but light's shining into darkness, and i've seen worse things in front of my eyes, but to discover clear examples of hypocrisy, of greed, and hubris, I feel like I lost something, probably my innocence as a citizen, but most likely its my complacence.

Clinton and Waco

Clinton was the celebrity president. but he squashed a sign of a potential “uprisin” in Waco, Texas. David and his buddies just wanted run things they way wanted to run them, and he got some people to believe his ideas, moved into a compund, they called it, had his party, got the government's attention and died at their hands. I don't know why they thought he was too dangerous. In the past it used to be just the cops that arrested people. I guess Clinton didn't want it so that the religious militias could take power in America. He did it to set an example.

Watch the watchers in primetime

It is not all the Republicans... There's a people within the GOP whose actions are disgracing the party. Clinton comes into this, too. That group that is breaking stuff up. They disgraced the republicans. broke the constitution. And now they are jumping ship. they are going to let the democrats win the november election, then they will move on to sage places where they won't be hurt by what's coming next.

It's not just the President, it's everybody else in power that have to keep our eye on. Those behind the scenes. the congressmen, the senators, the lobbyists, the companies, the judges. There's a face presented to the public, and there's what actually goes on. But knowing is just half the battle. That's why I suggest the following:

Let's put our leaders in Big Brother.

If you're in power and you pretend to serve the people, then let the people keep you in check. if you want to watch us with cameras, then submit yourself to surveillance. if you want to keep track of our money, then show us all of yours. Don't like it? You're kicked out of the show and out of power. For one, if there's going to be any surveillance, everyone has to be watched, in order to make it equal for everyone.

TV

I saw a girl on TV with no legs today. She talked candidly about her accident, but through it, she showed people how her belief in Jesus made her a stronger person after it.

I noticed that there's also a bit of a voyeuristic factor showing the people wheeling to the studio and sitting down on a couch. It would be nice to know if it was the interviewee's choice or just the producers being morbid.

The poor

Churches should operate homeless or women's shelters and hols their services there, instead of making fancy buildings just for the sake of praying. If I were Jesus, I wouldn't build a temple until people are taken care of. That said, I think the only true Christian church at this point is the Roman Catholic Church (and maybe the Eastern Orthodox, but I'm not sure about the last one)

One thing is for sure. Jesus said the poor we shall always have among us. That is why I think that governments shouldn't concern themselves with wealth, but with poverty. I believe that there can be such thing as poverty management. People who are poor should have at least an option of where they can have shelter and food. I'm not sure, and those services should be freely available to them. Social programs and employment opportunities can all help. Money shouldn't just be given to them, like I said before, but you can create a social environment such that there's a way out. The point is to reduce poverty to as much a natural thing as possible, rather than a consequence of our actions.

Even then

President's remarks right after 911. “terrorism will not stand.” I can't believe he started back with this “War on Terror” nonsense right then.

Newspapers and politics

It's truly a shame I can't vote in other people's elections. I feel like I know more about the Foley scandal than I do about local problems, for example. There isn't any newspaper, except the Daily Cal. It's a weak paper because it covers sports more than anything, and I don't really know what's going on anywhere else. I think it's because this is an insulated environment, the I-House (my dorm) doesn't have a newspaper and it itself is a community of 600+ students, plus its workers. There may be some localities (the building I live in that affect me more than other localities (the city of Berkeley). But it is important to maintain a political connection to the outside world. Perhaps that is why I need to start a newspaper. And perhaps I need to start paying attention to local issues and laws. The Daily Kos has really helped me get started in that regard.

Money is not the answer

The worst thing you can possibly do is to throw money at a problem. If you give someone who is angry money, they will go out and buy a gun to kill people. if you give someone who is sad, they might drink. Hungry people need food, not money. Sick people need treatment, not money. Children need a childhood, not money. There are many problems that can be solved without money being the answer.

Poor people for example, need more than just a handout. Assuming the poor become rich through an expedient upward mobility in their economy it becomes easy for them to enthrall themselves among their new acquisition power, and forget about the problems that affected you when you were poor. Having that sense of everyday-battle taken away, some are left without any choice but to consume material goods. In this paradigm, the only choices left are those of which things one desires to consume. But the problem isn't about the buyers. It's about the sellers. It's about what they want and how they are going to get it.

If you can a way to get people to buy a good or a service for their every need, then eventually there will be very few producers with a lot of power.

Since the free market is a social contract, all its disputes should be handled by society, and not the State, which may have its own interests. If companies can make consumers agree to a contract, then consumers should, by the same right, be able to demand that a producer conform to its interests.

Disputes should not be handled by the State. States are prone to corruption by the sellers, since they could bribe or influence officials to pass laws protecting their enterprise. Consolidation of power, between business and government is undesirable because it shows that the State, which is supposed to be the people, can be corrupted by money and power. On the other hand, if a State distributes, not money, but power equally among people and for-profit organizations, then an equilibrium is created, since anyone can become a producer of a product. Initiative is key. Without it, a society becomes complacent, lazy and ignorant. Then, many buyers can be told what to purchase through an increasingly powerful handful of for-profit organizations.

Intervencion divina

Susto del domingo

Manifesto/Prerogative/Declaration of Freedom

I think I want to start a newspaper here at I-House. But I have to separate that from my emotions, which right now are mostly about Linguistics. To me it seems that Linguistics is separated from me, and the real world and it is reactionary. That is, my concept of it, how it plays out in my head, its representations and manifestations, reacts to my decisions. I don't think I want to play that game anymore. In fact, I don't think I want to play any more games like that, especially when it's about something so big, like my college major. I don't know enough or possibly even care enough about linguistics as a field to do things to it. Because when I visualize a field I visualize an environment, some place where I can be free, participate and affect other people. I don't want to feel like I'm only helping out other researchers. I need to stay connected to a lot of people. Academia could be very cushy, but I'm not sure I want to live out, I'm thinking, my mom's idea of what my life should be. I'm not saying it's wrong, it could be right for someone else, but me, I'm not about the money. Everything I've had as far as money goes, God's given to me, and to say that he won't keep helping me out is a lie.

But I need to wait. My prerogative, my very own declaration of independence is still under construction, but I feel it, and I know it that the time will come when it will all be justified, and I will be free. This is a special time in my life, this construction period. And the truths that have been revealed to me, and I attribute them to the Holy Spirit, and I thank him for that, are just nuclear. For example, Christ as the enemy of religion, Christ as liberator, and -this just in- Christ as redeemer. He redeems, like when you go to a store with a coupon and you get it redeemed for the goods, he redeems lives. Like our lives are coupons... oh man... I better align myself to something that will pay off big dividends, but not so that I get rich, but so that others may get rich, and if I get rich, it will only be because God wanted me to. I think journalism's going to do that for me.

There will always be the hunt for another Watergate, but that's not the point of journalism. It's not an easy profession, but it's something I'm happy to work at. I just need to remember when to take a break and how to pace myself. But yeah, it's something I like to do all the time. All the time. All the time. I'm doing it all the time. And I love it. I've made a web page, I visit news blogs, and political blogs. I think I need to specialize in something, though what I'm good at is analyzing things, bringing them together and putting them into focus. Maybe like Thomas Friedman. If it's History I have to learn, I'll learn it. But I have to remember that it's like reading, I can't just study History for it's own sake, but rather to put things into perspective, my perspective. But I have my own personal concept of the world that I'm not sure relates to society as a whole. But if I identify myself as a member of society, either as educate or disabled or Latino or a student, then I might have a better understanding of the world. I'm not an island unto myself, even though my ears might keep me from coming too close to fast-paced or hushed conversational tones. There are many kind of students here at Cal, some are here to party, others are here to churn churn churn away at their major and never see the light of day. But within those two extremes, there is a spectrum of students that relate to things other than classes or midterms. This is the real world, only in a classroom setting. We may not work at a store but we spend time where we think it matters. We may not be right all the time, but some of us care sometimes at least to making the effort. It's like that song Bright Eyes sings, “We're forced to memorize nine numbers and forget we have a soul.” I think I'm on the ride side of things. For once today, I woke up and I didn't fall back asleep. And as I bring this celebration of freedom to a close, no- I'll always be celebrating- as I bring this manifesto to a close, I'll just remember that we are all farmers. I've been entrusted with good works now, I've been entrusted with GOOD, and I know I have it. I'll just ask God for help in how to plant it and seed it so that it grows more bountifully.

pensamientos

idea: getting new hearing aids.
answer- they-re already coming.

life>
i want to start a newspaper. and quit linguistics. because i think it stinks. there's no contact with people. eveyone just goes off and studies there thing. i suppse i'm supposed to start meeting people on purpose.

but i don't know what on purpose means.

just start doing stuff again... live life again and really taste it this time.

is what i'm thinking. when i get too anxious about something i just keep the lord in my head.

and i show him what's around.

i like showing people things. i think they could be a contagious kind of beautiful. ...trippipng out on music....

So this is what God told me to say>

I don't think Jesus meant to create a new religion. I think he meant to end them. In John 4:24 Jesus tells the Samaritan woman: "God is Spirit, and his worshippers must worship in spirit and in truth."

I guess that would make him institutionalized religion's biggest enemy.

Creemos que ahora se dificulta escuchar a Dios. Pero siempre nos ha estado hablando. Y lo que vino Jesús a enseñar es simplemente que creyéramos en él. Y ahí entra la cuestión de la fé. No creo que puedo escribir sobre la fé. Lo he tratado, me conozco. He tratado de comunicarlo a la gente. Lo he comunicado. Pero lo que he aprendido es que para mí la fé más grande viene de la confianza en lo real. Dejemos atrás la pregunta de que si esto es o no realidad o la pregunta de ¿qué es la realidad? No, hay que aceptar que si lo más grande que conocemos es Dios.

Entonces entablamos un tiempo, un espacio una gente una relación entre ellos. Y ahí en ese mundo existe una serie de reglas que se han creado para que todo estuviera en ordern, par aque no hubeira caos. Quien sabe como pasó, pero de ahí el hombre agarró esas reglas para controlarlas, tal vez para que no se sintiera él controlado. Y empezó a controlar a los demás. Y la gente se sintió oprimida. Pero más que eso, es que la gente no estaba conociendo a Dios. Entonces la llegada de Jesús a ese mundo fue como una alerta roja de los zapatistas. Fue una declaración de emergencia porque sus instrucciones fueron facilísimas de seguir, el de creer en él. (En una emergencia uno no va hacer las cosas difíciles para seguir.)
Quiero capturar en palabras lo que significa esto para mí para dárselo a la demás gente, creyendo que eso les cambiará su vida. Pero dijo Jesús que no tiráramos las perlas a los puercos. (¿ahora quien será puerco?).
Entonces llegó, habló y nos liberó de la tiranía de la realidad. Tal vez nuestro cuerpo esté enfermo o debilitado, pero eso no significa que nuestro interior, nuestro espíritu lo sea. Sin entrar a detalles políticos, creo que lo más importante es que seamos libres y que podamos actuar de tal manera, así negociando con los elementos menos deseables de nuestra vida, porque hay que ser honestos, no le vamos a ganar nunca a lo imperfecto. Somos, por naturaleza, así, pero hay que tratar eso usando tanto la razón como el corazón.

God isn't the kind of beautiful you see with your eyes. It wouldn't be fair to the blind. God is a different kind of beautiful.

San Ababís!

One of the finest examples of such confused borrowing occurs in a story told by the American linguist Charles Hockett. During the American occupation of the Philippines, at least one Filipino father named his son Ababís, after the patron saint of the USA. But no such saint exists. So what happened?
Before the American occupation, the Phillipines were a Spanish colony, and Spanish was widely spoken. In Spanish, the word for 'saint' when it occurs in a male saint's name is San - hence all those California place-names like San Francisco, San José, and San Diego. The father had noticed that American soldiers, in moments of stress, tended to call upon their saint by exclaiming San Ababís! - or something like that.

-RL Trask
Historical Linguistics

Somos los pobres

Estados Unidos busca hacer la guerra con su cartera. Le ha servido bien su dinero en el pasado, pero qué va pasar cuando se les acabe la lana? El dinero se tiene que acabar. Nada es para siempre. A mí ya nadie me hizo millonario, entonces, planeo para cuando sea pobre.

Especulacion

Tomando en cuenta la siguiente noticia:

Falling US gas prices boost Bush poll numbers

WASHINGTON (AFP) - Some Americans are suspicious that recent steep declines in gasoline prices might be the result of political manipulation, since the savings at the gas pump come just weeks before critical midterm US elections.

noticia completa: http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20060927/ts_alt_afp/usvotebushenergy_060927151903

Y acordándome de esta:

Document Says Oil Chiefs Met With Cheney Task Force

A White House document shows that executives from big oil companies met with Vice President Cheney's energy task force in 2001 -- something long suspected by environmentalists but denied as recently as last week by industry officials testifying before Congress.

noticia completa: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/11/15/AR2005111501842.html

Deduzco que hubo un arreglo politico-industrial para ayudar al partido republicano en este ciclo de elecciones. Lo incómodo de todo es que no se podrá desmentir la acusación, pero lo feo es que si es cierto ese nexo politico-industrial, trataremos no con una democracia, ni si quiera con una república, sino con un estado fascista.

Pan y circo

Mexico's Calderon Rips Border Wall Plan

MEXICO CITY (AP) -- Mexican President-elect Felipe Calderon on Monday slammed U.S. plans to build more fences on its southern border, saying it would not solve illegal immigration.

http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/M/MEXICO_BORDER_WALL?SITE=WDUN&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

Sabemos que se trata de puro manejo de imágen en esta noticia luego de saber de esta:

Reunión secreta para ''profundizar la integración'' de América del Norte

Tres de los principales asesores del presidente electo, Felipe Calderón, participaron hace menos de dos semanas en un encuentro secreto realizado en Canadá, donde representantes de grandes corporaciones y del estamento militar estadunidense plantearon ''profundizar la integración de América del Norte'' y crear una ''zona segura'' de abasto de petróleo para la economía de Washington.

http://www.jornada.unam.mx/2006/09/25/003n1pol.php

Nos encargaron la patria

¡Chin! Ya se nos fue la oportunidad... como zapatistas, parece que López Obrador nos robó el fuego, aquél creado con una mercadotécnia ingeniosa por medio del Sub Marcos. Algunos zapatistas se quejan por esto. Y se quejan y se quejan.

YA BASTA!

Creo que el zapatismo a estas alturas no tiene porqué esconderse tras los pasamontañas. Ahora, si es un símbolo, ya sea Marcos o los pasamontañas, habremos hablado de un movimiento simbólico. Porque eso es lo que recuerda la gente.

Bis: Nos esforzamos por educar de Atenco, de Acteal, del 2 de Octubre, pero la gente se olvida. Parece haber el insomnio colectivo que sacudió a Macondo durante los cien años de soledad, en nuestro caso de México, los 500 años de la larga noche.

Todavía no amanece, pero por ahí por el horizonte se llegan a ver unos sutiles destellos de luz. Será el sol? ¿O tal vez la esperanza? ¿Cómo llega, pues?, esa sociedad llamada utopía. Sea quien sea el líder del movimiento social emergente que cambiará México, nos debemos unir no bajo etiquetas o colores o eslógans, sino con ideas claras de qué queremos de nuestro México. El país es nuestro, del pueblo. Nos encargaron la patria. Tal vez eso quejarse es bueno, fomenta el diálogo, pero también hay que proponer alternativas: ¿Podríamos trabajar junto con los Lopez Obradoristas? Porque para mí la oportunidad todavía está: si es de "a deveras" este movimiento de López Obrador, la no-participación de los Zapatistas sería negarnos de un presente y por tanto de un futuro. Hay que pensarlo bien.

It's loud

Sometimes there's just too much noise in our lives. And this is coming from a guy who can't hear all that well.

More thoughts

-Entre más niego a Marcos, más poder adquiere, más me voy convirtiendo en él.
-Learning to live with your ego: If you try to destroy it, it will destroy you.

Question

If business in general had a soul, would it sell it to itself?

Aura de Carlos Fuentes

La anciana sonreirá, incluso reirá con su timbre agudo y dirá que le agrada tu buena voluntad y quee la joven te mostrará tu recámara, mientras tú piensas en el sueldo de cuatro mil pesos, el trabajo que puede ser agradable porque a tí te gustan estas tareas meticulosas de investigación, que excluyen el esfuerzo físico, el traslado de un lugar a otro, los encuentros inevitables y molestos con otras personas. Piensas en todo esto al seguir los pasos de la joven - te das cuenta de que no la sigues con la vista, sino con el oído: sigues el susurro de la falda, el crujido de una tafeta - y estás ansiando, ya, mirar esos ojos. Asciendes detrás del ruido, en medio de la oscuridad, sin acostumbrarte aún a las tinieblas: recuerdas que deben ser cerca de las seis de la tarde y te sorprende la inundación de luz de tu recámara, cuando la mano de Aura empuje la puerta -otra puerta sin cerradura- y en seguida se aparte de ella y te diga:
- Aquí es su cuarto. Los esperamos a cenar dentro de una hora.
Y se alejará, con ese ruido de tafeta, sin que hayas podido ver otra vez su rostro.

Todo parece ser una mentira

Me acuerdo mucho de mis tiempos en México. Cuando todo olía a hierba, cuando todo era más libre. Ahora me encuentro en un lugar donde todo es libertad, según, pero nunca me he sentido más abrumado y oprimido, en general, que en este país, en estos tiempos.

Parece que todo ha cambiado y que de alguna manera me he quedado atrás de todos y todo. Me gusta mucho cuando encuentro gente en mi camino pero son muy pocos los que piensan de manera diferente. ¿Cual es la diferencia? Creo que esa es una gran pregunta.

Trato de salir de mi cuerpo. Trato de salir al mundo. Me cuesta siempre esfuerzo, pero lo seguiré haciendo. Trato de conectar mi mente con la de los otros, pero no lo logro por mucho tiempo. He guardado mi corazón. Tengo amor para todos, pero me quiero quedar un poco para mí también.

Siento como si mi cabeza se hubiera todo, junto con mi corazón. Me veo pequeño, asustado pero con ganas de triumfar.

Pienso que es ahora o nunca cuando me debo mostrar decisivo, pero no creo serlo. Me considero osado y contreras. Pero decisivo no.

Busco mi identidad en todas partes. Dios me dio cuerpo de europeo pero mi corazón, es Mexicano.

Ahora que he encontrado mi corazón mexicano, busco amarlo.

Complot

La bacteria que colonizó mi termo se había confiado demasiado. El olor medio dulce que producían no hacía que el agua que tomaba todos los días supiera mal. Pero no había lugar para ellos y les deseaba una ausencia permanente.

En un momento decisivo, justo cuando chancleaba por el pasillo de mi cuarto, comenzó el operativo.
Comenzé con agentes químicos. Pero aquello ya lo había hecho hace tiempo sin ningún resultado favorable, entonces concentré la dosis, los cerqué y agité violentamente al termo. Lo abrí y llevé a cabo la siguiente fase en la tapa. Y los escuché, juro que los escuché gritando órdenes:

¡A los engrañes!
¡A los engrañes!
¡Mantengan sus posiciones!
¡Esto todavía no acaba!

Ahora todo está esterilizado, al parecer. Pero de vez en cuando llego a oler ese mismo aroma dulce. No sé si es mi imaginación.

Lo comprende mi corazón

Por fin lo comprende mi corazón:
escucho un canto,
contemplo una flor...
¡Ojalá no se marchiten!

Nezahualcóyotl

¿A donde iremos?

¿A donde iremos
donde la muerte no existe?
Mas, ¿por esto viviré llorando?
Que tu corazón se enderece:
aquí nadie vivirá para siempre.
Aun los príncipes a morir vinieron,
hay incineramiento de gente.
Que tu corazón se enderece:
aquí nadie vivirá para siempre.

Nezahualcóyotl

Pan y circo

¡Voto por voto!
¡Casilla por casilla!

El resultado de la toma de congreso en San Lázaro por legistadores perredistas fue Fox huyendo con la cola entre sus patas tras entregar su ultimo informe de gobierno.

Los diputados perredistas protestaron la suspensión de derechos civiles en las afueras del recinto donde se había presentado una fuerza policiaca, ésta anticipando una confrontación con los seguidores de Andrés Manuel López Obrador.

Éstos nunca se presentaron.

La policia, como consecuencia, se aburrió.

De nuevo...

Debo recordar unas cosas:

1) Que todo es lenguaje. Todo existe en términos de éste y para la generación y continuidad del mismo. No hablamos para comunicarnos ideas, sino a través de nuestra comunicación somos partícipes de la evolución constante del lenguaje.

2) Es una locura bella este mundo. Y vale mucho la pena, al menos para mí.

3) A veces nos toca escuchar y no hablar. También a veces nos toca observar y no participar.

4) No me conviene la lujuria.

El hotel

Yo no sé cómo es que se manejan los dormitorios universitarios, pero la impresión que tenía era de que eran algo así como departamentos para universitarios.

Pero no.

Hasta ahorita, mi experiencia es de que se maneja como un hotel. Por ejemplo, ni te dicen donde vas a vivir ni con quien hasta que uno llega con todo y maletas a mudarse. En Internet no ponen nada de fotos siquiera para dar una idea de cuanta cosa uno puede traer. Tengo la fortuna de vivir a 20 min. del dormitorio, pero ¿aquellos estudiantes internacionales? ¿Qué hacen los que vienen de China o de Australia? Hoy ví una chava luchando por entrar al elevador con un oso gigante de peluche traído. La chava y el oso de Hong Kong.

Mi ruméit es australiano, pero aún no lo conozco. Igual y corro el riesgo de parecer mamón privilegiado, pero por lo menos el Club Med de Playa Blanca en Jalisco (me acabo de informar de que éste último hotel ya cerró sus puertas) - proveía actividades y eventos después de los cuales todo mundo podía socializar juntos, claro una vez ya todos embriagados. Y bueno, parece que hay peda en dos semanas... pero es raro el gringo en general. Esquizofrénico tal vez. Me confunde el hecho de que casi no se le dice nada al inquilino de donde se va a quedar a dormir (Visite la página y corrígame si me equivoco). Luego, ni siquiera se hace ningún evento para presentar a los nuevos inquilinos con sus nuevos ruméits. ¿Cómo carajos se espera que se negocie el uso del cuarto, por ejemplo? ¿A lo salvaje? ¿Como cada quien vaya llegando? ¡Vaya! Qué cáos, Dios mío. O es una locura o el resultado de una pésima gerencia.

...tengo que hablar con el encargado del lugar no antes de haber preguntado a mis nuevos vecinos de sus experiencias.

The Pursuit of Emptiness by John Perry Barlow

(Post en inglés, medio largo, con tema de la felicidad. Su traducción aparecerá posteriormente en este blog.)

Happiness is the absence of the striving for happiness.
- Chuang-Tzu (350 B.C.)

Chuang-Tzu had it right. No more need be said. But such is human nature that the more succinctly we state the truth, the better we become at ignoring it. So, despite the completeness of the above homily, I'll proceed, hoping that my volume may insinuate into your worldview what Chuang-Tzu's brevity might not.

Here's what I believe. I believe that extolling the pursuit of happiness was a toxic stupidity entirely unworthy of my greatest American hero, Thomas Jefferson. Indeed, it is a poison that sickens our culture more wretchedly every nanosecond. I wish he'd never said it.

It produces a monstrous, insatiable hunger inside our national psyche that encourages us ever more ravenously to devour all the resources of this small planet, crushing liberties, snuffing lives, feeling ourselves ordained by God and Jefferson to do whatever is necessary to make us happy.

And yet the American people are miserable. Or so it would appear.

A bit of anecdotal evidence (of which I could supply a thousand more examples). At the beginning of this year, my lover Lotte and I decided to start counting the number of spontaneous smiles we might observe in the upscale organic supermarket we frequent in San Francisco.

Since then, we've seen thousands of faces, nearly all of them healthy, beautiful, and very expensively groomed. We have so far counted seven smiles appearing on them. In 11 months. Seven smiles. (And at least three of these were insincere.) I am not kidding about this.

I also spend a lot of time in American airports. The same expression of troubled self-absorption has become a nearly universal mask worn by my people. Rarely do I hear laughter in an airport, despite there being plenty in an airport to laugh about, however darkly.

What am I to think of my people, who, during the year 2000, while feeding at the greatest economic pig-trough the world has ever slopped forth, also ate 13.4 billion dollars worth of Prozac and other anti-depressants (up 18% from the preceding year)? Better living through chemistry? I don't think so. Of my legion friends and acquaintances who have become citizens of Prozac Nation. I have never heard any of them claim that these drugs bring them any closer to actual happiness. Rather, they murmur with listless gratitude, anti-depressants have pulled them back from The Abyss. They are not pursuing happiness. They are fleeing suicide.

Actually, it is unfair to single out America in this regard. The pandemic of longing may have started here in the land of infinite possibilities, but it seems to have spread now to every part of the world where industrial economy and the religion of science have taken deep root since Jefferson, Voltaire, Locke, and their other practical colleagues kicked it off a quarter millennium ago.

The smiles per mile rating is only a little higher in Geneva, Brussels, Washington, Paris, or the other capitals of the Rich World than it is in dour San Francisco. But at least the rest of G8 have not declared happiness to be the kind of patriotic obligation it has become in the country literally founded on its pursuit.

Here we suffer the tyranny of fraudulent bonhomie. Big Brother has arrived as the great Smiley Face. I think I probably sensed this early, since I came from a family where nearly everyone drank themselves into oblivion during times like Christmas when happiness was most pathologically pursued.

But not until I turned 30 was it made obvious to me that my wariness of the pursuit of happiness might be a subtle form of treason. Like many of my generation, I hadn't really expected to live to such an age. I really didn't trust anyone over 30 - and remain reluctant to do so even now - but since I was about to be one, I figured I ought to at least take a stab at graceful adulthood. At least it seemed clear that I would no longer be able to excuse my peccadilloes on the basis of youth.

So I spent the night before my 30th Birthday composing a list of advisories to myself that I called "Principles of Adult Behavior." Most of these were blandly inarguable, the sort of platitudes Polonius liked to lay on Hamlet. Stuff like " Expand your sense of the possible." And, "Tolerate ambiguity."

"Avoid the pursuit of happiness. Seek to define your mission and pursue that."

Despite the safely Puritan kicker, this homily actively pissed off the broadest range of folks you can imagine. Whether hippie, cowboy, redneck or debutante, practically everyone who read my list thought there was something threateningly wrong about this. It was... why, it was downright un-American! I even got this from people who were ashamed to be Americans.

Openly agitating against the very pursuit of happiness was considered a sedition of the most insidious hazard. Because nearly everyone feels its weird invisible pressure - driving them to the fatigue that is despair, in order to acquire possessions that possessed them, money that turned their friends monstrous, addictions that turned them monstrous - nearly everyone feels that secret shame of not trying hard enough to be happy.

To have someone tell them they should just stop trying felt like a threat to the oath they'd taken with their lives. They had sworn, sometime during adolescence, that they would pursue happiness, and, by raw will, that they would catch some. When you've sacrificed so much to a creed, having it disappear turns your sacrifices into stolen goods.

So Jefferson's gentle aspiration had become law. The right to do something counter-productive - pursing something that flees in absolute symmetry with your desire, pursuing happiness - had become an obligation, as surely as charity became entitlements. If we were not pursing happiness - whatever the hell that meant to whom-the-hell-ever - we were not part of the Great Work of America.

Yet even as happiness became our American due, the inner sense that we deserve to be happy seems to have generally withered. Kant spoke of "making ourselves worthy of happiness." It seems to me a rare American who behaves as if he has done so.

I don't know where the disease arises, but I think there's an epidemic of self-loathing in this country that is, besides the folly of the pursuit itself, the greatest barrier to contentment in most hearts. I can't count the number of people I've known whose misery amidst plenty seemed to be a suspicion of joy rooted so deeply in their personalities that it had to have been planted during infancy. It's not simply the sensible awareness of cycles - that the natural price of magic is tragedy and that life actually is fair. If only it were that wise.

Rather it seems a sense of one's own unremembered original sin, the hazy belief that by failing some early test in life, the wretch has made himself forever unworthy of any earthly paradise he might accumulate around himself. I've had two friends commit suicide rather than accept their own successes, and I'm sure there are more of their kind out there.

Get over it. No matter how bad you are, you deserve some happiness. Just don't consider it either a right or an obligation.

Let me be clear. I like happiness. Hell, I think I am happy most of the time. (I know. Most Americans, when polled, will tell you the same thing, but I look happy most of the time, which cannot be said of most Americans.)

And when I'm happy, why am I happy?

Never because I pursued it. Rather because I let it pursue me. To me, it seems that the more you ignore it, the more it will come looking. Swami Satchidananda put it better:

"If you run after things, nothing will come to you. Let things run after you. The sea never sends an invitation to the rivers. That's why they run to the sea. The sea is content. It doesn't want anything. That's the secret in life."

I'm not sure what would happen to our economy if everyone took this dictum to heart, but I have a feeling it might come to look like Satchidananda's. But would that be as bad as it sounds? While I'm not ready to move to India, my experiences in Africa make me wonder if I wouldn't be happier moving there.

I've spent a lot of time in Africa over the last several years and, wherever I go in that supposedly dark continent, I am continuously amazed by how happy most people seem to be. Despite living with pandemic AIDS, starvation, filth, disease, and ghoulish little wars where children dismember one another, most Africans grin and wave as I pass through their villages. They seem to mean it, too. They would probably not have a similar experience were they to pass through our suburbs.

The apparent happiness of Africans, against all horror, seems to derive from a sense of connectedness, or as the Zulu put it, "ubunto." This word is often translated to mean community, but one of them gave me what I think is a more accurate definition: "I am because we are; we are because I am."

In other words, their pursuit of happiness seems more successful than ours because it is not a solitary endeavor. African happiness is a joint enterprise, something that can only be created by the whole. I am happy because we are happy. Much contentment arises from a sense of family, community, and connectedness.

Such virtues are in dwindling supply in America. Two thirds of all our first marriages end in divorce. The war between children and parents has never been uglier (since it is now concealed, rather than public as it was in the '60's). We think AOL and the local mall are communities. We think that Disney, the corporation, is a story-teller. And, to the extent, we are connected at all, it is largely by mass media like television, which, as Bertrand Russell pointed out, "allows thousands of people to laugh at the same joke and still remain alone."

Imagine an evening spent peering through the suburban windows of America. Think of the faces you would behold within, lit pale by the flickering blue bath of electrons Big Content blasts out for their "entertainment." Slack-jawed and silent, one hand gripping a Bud, the other in a bag of Fritos, they watch other "people" pass through contrived "ordeals" and imagine themselves pursuing happiness.

But they are not pursuing happiness. They are seeking what I call The Zone, a mental and emotional condition where nothing happens. Nothing can happen except for the most rudimentary necessities of life and manufactured entertainment. When Zoned, they are left alone. They are being granted a twisted kind of peace.

By this I don't mean that The Zone is a halcyon and serene mental condition. It's only correspondence to those states aspired to by Oriental mystics is outward dispassion. It's more like being in an iron lung than any condition you'd achieve by sitting Zazen. Rather than being detached from the illusory world of perceptions, one is painfully separated from a world which seems quite real. Absolutely no one likes being in The Zone. What's peculiar is that not only do we allow it to exist, we encourage it in practically every venue of our lives, whether it be in our workplace cubicles, our commuting cars, our Sisyphean Stair-Masters, our Generican landscaped landscapes.

While Zoned, one is under no obligation to care about anything more enduring than, say, who wins the football game, and it appears that many of us would rather not.

If we can't entertain ourselves into happiness, what about buying it? I skirted the issue earlier, but I suppose that something does need to be said about wealth and happiness. After all, Jefferson's dangerous statement of the essential liberties was preceded by John Locke's "Life, Liberty, and Property." Given the similarity of these two phrases, it's only natural that a certain conflation would take place. And it has.

Almost everyone in America seems to regard wealth and happiness as though they were practically interchangeable. Even the wise Bessie Smith is reported to have said, "I been rich and I been poor, and let me tell you, Honey, rich is better." Maybe. But let's define our terms.

If, as I suspect, she was talking about dirt poor vs. modestly rich, I would agree with her. But most Americans in pursuit of material happiness are attempting to move from modest poverty to filthy riches, and, having watched scores of my friends come down with what Stewart Brand calls "toxic wealth" over the last decade, I wouldn't trade places with any of them. (Not even now, when my own recent wealth has evaporated...) I feel I have enough money to stave off terror, but hardly enough to put me in the grip of paranoid anomie and the paralysis of purpose that seems to have afflicted most of them. And I never have to wonder whether anyone actually loves me for my money.

I suspect that the greatest benefit of the DotBoom and subsequent DotBust will turn out to be that more people have experienced great and ephemeral wealth at an early age than ever before in history. There is now among us a very large number of young people who know the emptiness that can only come from three Porsches in the garage and two bimbos in the bed. There are a lot of smart kids who are now more dedicated to making a difference than making a dollar. At least most of them now know, in a deep way, that money doesn't buy happiness.

Alright then, if you can't pursue happiness, how can you make yourself a fertile place for happiness to grow of its own? Happiness being the most subjective of states, I can only speak for myself. I have found four qualities that I believe naturally enrich the ecology of joy. When I'm capable of sustaining them, they sustain me and continue to do so even in these strange days. They are: a sense of mission, the casual service of others, the solace of little delights, and finally, love for its own sake.

Having a sense of mission has served me extremely well, even better than I thought it would when I wrote Adult Principle Number 15 and bound myself to purpose rather than its by-product. Often I would have been hard-pressed to define mine and it has certainly taken on many different manifestations in the course of my careers, but I have taken a lot of happiness from a sense - often grandiose and sometimes illusory - that I am, by my various actions, helping create a future that will be more free, more tolerant, more open, and more just.

My primary ambition is to be a good ancestor, and though, by definition, I will never know if I've succeeded, I am pleased to believe that I'm giving it my best shot.

Connected to the happiness of mission is another joy that can no more be pursued than grace itself: the gift of creation. I've been blessed by the opportunity to let art pass through me on occasion. Whether songs, or essays, or interestingly designed haystacks, these manifestations of beauty, for which I take no more credit than the faucet should take for the water, have been wonderful gifts.

The sense that one has become the instrument of invention is so satisfying that I find it truly stupefying that anyone one would claim that artists are motivated to create primarily by the money they might get from such miracles. Not to say they shouldn't be paid. Paying them provides them with more time and liberty to channel art. But it's a rare artist who's in it for the money. A real artist creates because he has no choice. He is pressed into the involuntary service of art, and thereby, humanity.

Which brings me to another solace cheaply available to all. Consider the joys of service. As a few leaders, ranging from Jimmy Carter to the Dalai Lama, demonstrate with their lives, we can become happy through the exercise of compassion. But following the training we receive in schools and workplaces, we have come to regard service as self-suppressing obligation rather than a self-fulfilling responsibility. It doesn't have to be that way.

I think a related problem is that we tend to approach service the same way we approach exercise programs, in lunges and spasms of temporary idealism. We raise the initial bar too high. We fail to see that they also serve who, while not quite heading off to Calcutta to comfort dying lepers, merely treat the strangers miscellaneously at hand with a little humor and kindness. You don't have to be Gandhi to be a good guy. There are few things that make me happier than successfully resisting the impulse to snarl at some idle transgressor and elevating myself into an actively benign stance. Such opportunities arise almost hourly. (Not that I always rise to them.) The habit of small kindnesses is immensely rewarding.

Which brings me to another under-appreciated fountain of happiness: the common little joys the universe leaves lying around for the truly casual observer. I think of something Kafka - that noted happiness-hound - wrote:

"It is not necessary that you leave the house. Remain at your table and listen. Do not even listen, only wait. Do not even wait, be wholly still and alone. The world will present itself to you for its unmasking, it can do no other, in ecstasy it will writhe at your feet."

He is not talking about the pursuit of happiness. He's not even talking, as one might easily and incorrectly conclude, about lying in wait for happiness. He's talking about making oneself genuinely available to it. He is talking about opening one's senses to the little delights - the sunsets, the lilac-scented breezes, the hilarious bartender jokes, the quick flash of anonymous smiles, the inside straights, the large purring cats, the click of stiletto heels, the popping of bubble-wrap, the liquid song of the meadowlark, the shrug of a New York cop - the granular texture of unsolicited joy.

There have been many hard times in my life - including the present - when I took refuge in reduced focus, comforting myself with the glorious filigree of immediate existence. Even a man facing a firing squad can appreciate the dawn that also arrays itself before him.

Finally, and always, there is love. By this, I don't mean that economic bargain that often passes for love these days. I don't mean that I will love you if you get good grades, or that I will love you if you'll sleep with me, or that I will love you ifŠanything. I mean what I mean when I say, "I love you." Period. Without expectation, condition, term limit, codicil, or obligation. To say that - and to mean it in that way - makes me happy.

What makes me happiest of all is when someone says "I love you" to me - meaning it as unconditionally as I intend to mean it - and I simply accept it. Learning to accept unconditional love has been the most demanding part of my education. It requires me to love myself as much as I am loved, which is not easy, since I like to pretend that my loathsome short-comings are invisible to all but me.

Still, when I love without goal and accept love without doubt, I am happy. In this, I am not pursuing happiness. I am becoming it.

Faith from my father

Sometimes my dad says some pretty wild things. I guess it's ok. It sounds a bit far-fetched to believe that not one, but two men walked on water. One of them, Paul, began to sink because he saw the winds and began to think.

But I like that. It's nice to know that I have a meta-narrative backing me up all the time.

Liberacion de nuestras facultades cognitivas

¡YA BASTA!

En nuestras cuentas de correo tarda mucho tiempo andarle buscando los botonsitos adecuados y que por cierto algunos son muy pequeñitos. La neta, no uso lentes y no quiero que mi cuenta de Calmail sea motivo por aquello. Además, se ve fea la página.

Por eso se tomará acción.

Se desarrollará un script de Greasemonkey para aquellos que usen Firefox con el fin de que los diseñadores de nuestras cuentas lo implementen a nivel escolar. Esto se logrará mediante diálogos con dichos diseñadores.

Una vez ya hecho el script, éste se difundará en esta página y luego en otras. La liberación de nuestras facultades cognitivas no termina con nosotros los estudiantes zapatistas, sino comienza con nosotros, aquellos que traemos la dignidad rebelde en nuestros corazones, para así difundirlo en nuestro mundo.

Democracia! Libertad! Justicia y Ley!

Hombres sin escrúpulos

Palabras encontradas en mi búsqueda de la verdad de la Biblia. Original en inglés:

"These writers, great creative artists, producing masterpieces of rich variety that are worthy to live as literature, were not concerned with their own undying fame. They were not artists for the sake of art, but men who were filled with a religious purpose, and who were consumed with that purpose. Whether their names lived or died was of no moment. But supremely important was it that they should guide men's feet in the way of God's will, and enrich them with understanding of His purpose."

H.H. Rowley
The Growth of the Old Testament

Traducción mía al español:

"Estos autores, dotados como magnos artistas creadores, producían obras maestras increíblemente variadas las cuales todas son dignas de sus existencias como obras literarias, sin embargo aquellos no se interesaban por obtener fama perpetua. Ellos no eran artistas motivados por arte, sino eran hombres repletos de un propósito religioso, y se consumaban por aquél. Que si sus nombres llegaban a vivír o a morír no tenía valor para ellos. Pero era de suprema importancia el hecho de que guiaran los pies de los hombres hacia la voluntad de Dios y enriquecerlos con el entendimiento de Su propósito."

H.H. Rowley
The Growth of the Old Testament

Café

Son las 3:55 de la madrugada.

De nuez no puedo dormir.

Es porque tomé una taza de café después de cenar. (¡Qué cena! Estuvieron todos mis tíos, algunos de mis padrinos y todos mis primos. Toda la familia, pues, cenamos. Muy rico... ahí con mis tíos hablando de mi encuero en Vancouver, y con las tías acerca del té de Boldo que se vende en la Farmacia del Ahorro en Oakland. )


Bueno, ya se me está cerrando el ojo (¡pero tras cuanto tiempo!).

Todo chido

Le pedí perdón a mi mamá por haberme enojado. No valía la pena seguir enojado. O sea, no puedo cambiar nada con respecto a la situación. Rebelarme sólo trairía malas consecuencias por los siguientes motivos:

1) Me voy a Berkeley a vivir en dos semanas. Ya que esté ahí no voy a manejar porque todo queda cerca.

2) Cuesta $300 el seguro. Bueno, eso es lo que le cuesta al novio de mi jefa porque tiene buen record. A mí me saldría mucho más caro porque soy más jóven.

3) Bueno, suponiendo que me rebelara y manejara mi carro y que el novio de mi jefa me pagara el seguro, las consecuencias de ese acto perjudicarían la relación que tengo con mi mamá y con el novio de mi mamá. Prefiero ahorrarles la pena.

4) De todas formas le hace falta un mantenimiento al carro.

Son dos semanas las que quedan. Si quiero salir, seguro me dan aventón. Además el seguro se va pagar en un mes, creo. Bueno, para entonces, ya no necesitaré el carro.

No vale la pena estar enojado.

Me quitaron el carro

Algo que no tolero es la doble palabra.

Mi mamá me hizo creer que el carro era mío, pero no lo nunca lo fue. Era de su novio. Está a su nombre. Ella quiere hacer las cosas bien, o sea legales, pero bien que maneja toda su vida sin seguro, además de dejarme hacer lo mismo. pero cuando es asunto de su novio, él es intocable.

a la chingada.

The best part

The BEST part of my life is that I'M IN IT

(hey, someone had to do it)

Ellos nos alimentan

Traducido al español:

"...son monstruos que piden vacas y pollos para comer. Cagan carne para su consumo masivo. De vez en cuando piden sacrificios humanos.

Nos sirven mucho, nos dejan más, pero hay que darles lo que piden"

Dudas

¿Cómo es que la Biblia llegó a ser?

¿Cómo es que tantos libros de tantos lugares a través de tanto tiempo llegaron a ser unídos en un tomo?

¿Cual es la verdadera secuencia de hechos recopilados en la Biblia?

¿Cómo se recopilaron esos hechos?

¿Los Cristianos cómo responden?

Corrección para Christians on Campus de UC Berkeley

Lo que sigue en inglés:

Before I begin, I have to remember Matthew 7:1-5.

1. Do not judge so that you will not be judged.
2. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and (B)by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.
3. Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
4. Or how can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' and behold, the log is in your own eye?

So my comment is the following: In your tract, The Mystery of Human Life, under section 2.Man you state "Man was created not merely to contain food in his stomach, or to contain knowledge in his mind, but to contain God in his spirit (Eph.5:18)."

I believe that is a wrongful interpretation of
"Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead be filled with the Spirit."
The word "contain" implies that something finite, like man, can "contain" something infinite, like God, much like a cup "contain" wine. I believe what you meant to say was that God carries your spirit in His, leading to total freedom.

If my interpretation is wrong, please feel free to correct me.

Primera declaración de la selva electrónica

PRIMERA DECLARACIÓN DE LA SELVA ELECTRÓNICA

Lo que sigue son las palabras que enuncian los propósitos de las palabras que aparecerán a partir del conjunto de las palabras enunciadas que siguen:

-Primero, el de utilizar este medio como herramienta para agotar las expresiónes de mi siguiente TEORÍA:

Todo tiene su idioma

-Segundo, el de poner a prueba la supuesta palabra MÁXIMA de Dios. (ojo, no hay falacia. quien supone soy yo y miles de millones de creyentes) . Para eso sirve la lógica, la HISTORIA, el análisis científico y la arqueología. Por supuesto que también la sociología, la antropología y la lingüistica.

-Tercero, el de echar buen desmAdre.

-Cuarto, el de contar algunos cuentos, relatos y/o mariguanadas.


Y bueno, ahí estuvo aquél conjunto de palabras que enunciaba el propósito de las palabras que ahora aparecerán a continuación.

4 recuerdos del concierto de Manu Chao

1) El t.e.r.r.o.r.i.s.t.a. judío/árabe (parecía del medio oriente eso sí) que se lanzó del escenario no sin antes apuntar hacia donde estaba yo parado, sino es que a mí.

2) Éramos el mar de piel con todo y mareas y corrientes.

¡¡Música!!
¡¡Baile!!
¡¡Fiesta!! (abrió con FIESTA Manu Chao)
¡¡¡ALEGRÍA!!!

3) La locura de la burla irónica entre Manú y el público a la hora de tocar las rolas más conocidas. ...que hora son mi corazón... nos engañaron baybaybomBOMBALABOMBALABOMBALA

4) ¡PRESENCIA ZAPATISTA!

deseo

q u i e r o i r m e a me xi co*

sfo -> mex (sí, ¿no? porfas. ándale, no sea malo)

*México significa "Ombligo de la Luna" en Náhuatl. Esta palabra viene de Mexitli que esta compuesta de

metztli (Luna)
xictli (ombligo)
co (lugar)

angustia

son la 1: y 03 de la mañana AM (dice el reloj, ok)
y no tengo s u e ñ o
mis vicios de siempre ya no me tienen efecto
se desmAdran frente a mi ego orgulloso y con buena razón...

Es neta

A veces me caigo gordo.

Es todo, gracias.

De viaje

¿Será que mi vida es un viaje?




¿O tal vez mi viaje es la vida?

Concierto de Manú Chao. ¡Qué locura!

eL HOMbRE viene EL HOmbrE SE va... sIN mAS RAZÓN...

EL HAMbre VIEne EL homBRE SE VA... ¿CUANdo volverá?



por la carretera:::
por la carretera...

Todo tiene su propio idioma.

Todo tiene su propio idioma.
Desde una persona que habla farsi, hasta una escultura de Rodin, todo tiene su propio idioma.
Los que entienden esto, hablan.

Por favor hablen, tambien.

Marte

misc. notes

people like to share it with one another, but the it is really their perspective, their way of being
everything else follows from that
objectivity... ¿donde radica?
estructura más objetiva con la cual nos conocemos viene de nuestra humanidad, de lo pragmático

business built on excess

how to express books when i really like them?

art books for vocab

afrocuban allstars
alberto cortez tangos
babylonian palace = hotel
uv flashlight for a garden

parc 55 paper

<
light pollution-bright eyes
the modern age-peel session
wave-jobim
light my fire
boys don't cry
>

<
did i tell you-yo la tengo
the sheik-bonobo
>

papel amarillo

<
julia
little fluffy clouds
in dark times
pixies
joni mitchell
all we ever wanted was everything
>

metáfora de palabra para describir tecnología
ligar para gente ocupada - servicio
describir un mundo donde hace tanto calor que lo diario se hace en la noche y la gente duerme en el día (cómo serían las discotecs?)

tristes tropiques
p. 122 friendly...
p. 123 but...
p. 124 the...
p. 126 i visited...

notas

hollywood wins bid to buy the presidency ("the presidency is up for sale")

private healthcare with social obligations - regulated by the government

playlist 2

teenage lobotomy
little honda
cross bones style
maps
let's run

transcripción de segundo bloc de apuntes

if it has liberated me, it can liberate others

true religion frees. once christ frees you are never again enslaved. no need to remain broken. therefore when marx said religion is opiate of the masses, a crutch, understand nature of words. marx spoke of the instituional religion that does not liberate but maintains the brokenness. true religion rather, sprituality heals, liberates.

fragmentation of society. journalists have to provide cohesion.

sapienta aedificauit sibi domum venite comedite panem meum et bibite uinum quod miscui vobis

human beings like to change their environment (extension of consciousness -mcluhan) but are bound by agreemnts or commonalities they choose


<
radio insurgencia: música y pensamientos para guerrilleros
dumb-nirvana
afterlife-5th and avenida

mr.natural-country lane

lupita lopez-sonora dinamita
donde estás-pink martini
on the run-pink floyd

dance floors-my morning jacket

steam engine-mymorningjacket
bush-body
>

transcripción de primer bloc de apuntes

heaven run as a business
-dept. that handles magic and occult
-hardest-working department handles marketing, pop culture
-dept. of human resources


god blesses his creation because he wants to, not because he has to

picturing god like a reverse black hole, self-generating good

air force pursuing anti-matter weapons (development of new weapon systems paradigm)
expansion of military into space
space wars

wide wifi (wireless network coverage not provided by terrestrial line of sight but by satellites)

"what's in your head is yours. the seocnd you express it, it is communicated, thus shared"
- joi ito

nanorobots (surveillance)

modern cavemen: who they are

read history of mexico: analyze power struggles: frequency, actors, methodology

commiting crimes to go to jail when fun is outlawed (party in the prisons)

monopoly not a natural state of business

when is it that opulence kicks in? is it the symptom or the disease? is there a gene for excessive spending? is it a reflection of some other trait?

new business models at core are messages

my media shell and the services i offer relay the core out to the people

military can't be coerced by president if there is a mass dissent within

this generation of military not like previous

comes from young vs. old

how are jung's archetypes apply across people? modern archetypes? archetypes across different cultures? how they have changed through time?

man behind desk figure archetype. (the boss = god)
this generation's media archetype (someone)

in dancing wu li masters zukav refers to creation of reality in the sense that the world is the way we look at it (attitude)

media picture of iraqi woman hugging marine's mom = complete perversion of reality (and similar staged media pics, photo ops)

quiero humedecer la tierra = quiero llorar

children's hospital used for potentially lethal purposes (investigate)

can't computers decide based on statistics? human brain integrates with past experiences, but computers, do they store results of memory processes to make selves more efficient?

what if the aztecs invaded spain? what if indigenous had conquered europe?

ownership of culture
-legally-sanctioned culture

bend space-time to travel from one place to the next

djs listen ahead and then bring it back
-the dj metaphor: prometheus

everything (in the western european sense of the word) is already over. tribal utopia already exists, but forces that be, status quo wishes to preserve itself (I HAVE SEEN THE OTHERSIDE)

the psychologist is the priest of the atheist

jesus filled requirements and said what was needed to be said, but in regards to individuals, his fulfilments were to enable the final step, that of faith.
he was innocent, he was pure and he was there. he was what was needed by all of us. he was THE MAN. those who couldn't make the leap for whichever reason were (are) broken.