Soy argentino? Soy americano? Soy latinoamericano? Soy los tres!
Por qué el argentino tiene vergüenza de ser latinoamericano? Es el argentino más que un peruano o mexicano? Tiene algún gen mejor?
Ni lo uno ni lo otro.
Gabriel García Márquez me mostró Macondo; Isabel Allende me hizo sentir a Paula; Shakira y las caderas; Bioy y Morel con sus fotogramas; Chespirito y sus sonrisas; el Machu Pichu y sus misterios; la salsa y el merengue; el tango y el candombe; Ricky Martin y Gardel; Borges, Neruda, Vargas Llosa, Benedetti y Alfonsina; Maradona, Pelé, Sena y Woods; Susana y Ophra; Xuxa, Odisea Burbujas, Disney y la magia; Quinquela y Warhol; Verónica, Thalia, Andrea y Luisa; JFK, Evita y Luther King; Pancho Villa, el Ché Guevara y Fidel Castro; Cantinflas, San Martín y Bolívar; Frida Khalo y tantos más…
Soy argentino, sí; pero orgulloso de la tierra americana. Feliz día a las tres Américas; feliz día América; o como decía la Reina, FELIZ DIA AMERICA TOTAL...
Llevo en mi el sueño
De ver caer el sol
Y no hallar durmiendo en las veredas
Niños sin amor,
Que todo el pueblo americano
Desea ver el fin
De este miedo de ser hermanos
Pues solamente así...
Toda América
Será América
América total
Una América
Más América
Que norte, sur, central
Mi América, nuestra América
América integral
Oh América!
Se América
De todos por igual
América total!
El águila y el cóndor
Renuncien a ser dos
Con sus alas cubrirán
Todo alrededor
No precisa nadie fronteras
Para ser mas feliz
Y esta tierra de mil maneras
Comparte la raíz
En fin pasan los años
Mas nunca pasará
Este sueño americano
De ser una unidad
Donde el miedo, el frío, el hambre
Y el vicio tendrán fin
Esta América de tantos nombres
Es una sola en mi
El día que esto vaya a suceder
Sabrás que es por mi,
Por ti, por tu fe
Y entonces gritarás, yo gritaré
Con esto soñé! Con esto soñé!
Monday, 18 October 2010
Monday, 27 September 2010
Eat, pray, love. Live
There are impossible things that sometimes you achieve without knowing how…
The miracle of having someone next to us is just that, a miracle.
How many people do we know that stay all their life next to someone without really knowing him/her? Social conventions, the fact that we get used to someone like we get used to an object, the loneliness within most people fear of, in short, the solitude.
Isn’t it more precarious to be with someone and not to be able to speak the true words? I went yesterday to see Eat, Pray and Love, the latest of Julia Roberts’ film. It’s not an iconic one, accepted; however, for those who don’t mind taking a step aside of the vulgarity and tediousness social pre-conceptions tie us, it will have sense.
We’re all in a journey most of us call life: it starts alone; it ends alone. In the meantime it seems we need to get someone to get hold of, to fasten ourselves to his/her belt and not let them go.
When children, we all dreamt of flying. What do we do with our wings when we grow up? Do we loose strength? Do our strengths change into weakness? Why do we seek for someone to complete us? And the happily ever after?
We can’t complete anyone if we’re not complete ourselves first. Do we need a trip to Bali to have the balance? Go to Bali, but enjoy the view and its people, the smells and fragrances, the beauty of being simple. The more you seek for balance, the less you’ll find it. Life is to be lived (mistakes included). Him/her who doesn’t dare to challenge destiny or faith in any way deserves to be called mediocre. And I don’t imply mediocre has a negative aura. It only has a neutral one.
Life is to be lived in full colours, high definition if possible. Black and white images are smart, look neat and go well in a still frame. I don’t want that. Do you? Try something spicy, try something different, try something risky, try something others say it’s stupid, be childish, let you be yourself; be unpredictable not to others, but to yourself.
What are you going to wait for? Your next life? Your next journey? Unfortunately, theories and religions apart, I have only one life that almost lost when I was a child. Since then and till now I live. I do make mistakes, sure; it may hurt, absolutely… so? I’m alive, are you?
Have the highest dreams you can possibly have, dare to dream and create a vision; risk and go for the vision. Scared? Obviously, you’re human, you may fail. So? Fail one and twenty times. Your life will be rich in experiences. After all, those are the things you’ll remember. As Garcia Marquez said, “vivir para contarla” so live and tell your story. If no-one listen, who cares, it’s your only and unique story and you’re the main character, executive producer, writer and director. You decide when, who, how, what; you stop and start; you choose.
Seek for love, seek for adventure, seek for passion, seek for taste, seek for simplicity. Don’t harm anyone, that’s the only limit. If it does happen, ask for an apology, we all can be wrong. Don’t be stubborn but be confident, don’t be excessively proud but don’t let others walk over you.
Eat plenty, tasty and big; pray for those who love and care for you; love till it hurts. Live to enjoy so much living you may choose to live again.
The miracle of having someone next to us is just that, a miracle.
How many people do we know that stay all their life next to someone without really knowing him/her? Social conventions, the fact that we get used to someone like we get used to an object, the loneliness within most people fear of, in short, the solitude.
Isn’t it more precarious to be with someone and not to be able to speak the true words? I went yesterday to see Eat, Pray and Love, the latest of Julia Roberts’ film. It’s not an iconic one, accepted; however, for those who don’t mind taking a step aside of the vulgarity and tediousness social pre-conceptions tie us, it will have sense.
We’re all in a journey most of us call life: it starts alone; it ends alone. In the meantime it seems we need to get someone to get hold of, to fasten ourselves to his/her belt and not let them go.
When children, we all dreamt of flying. What do we do with our wings when we grow up? Do we loose strength? Do our strengths change into weakness? Why do we seek for someone to complete us? And the happily ever after?
We can’t complete anyone if we’re not complete ourselves first. Do we need a trip to Bali to have the balance? Go to Bali, but enjoy the view and its people, the smells and fragrances, the beauty of being simple. The more you seek for balance, the less you’ll find it. Life is to be lived (mistakes included). Him/her who doesn’t dare to challenge destiny or faith in any way deserves to be called mediocre. And I don’t imply mediocre has a negative aura. It only has a neutral one.
Life is to be lived in full colours, high definition if possible. Black and white images are smart, look neat and go well in a still frame. I don’t want that. Do you? Try something spicy, try something different, try something risky, try something others say it’s stupid, be childish, let you be yourself; be unpredictable not to others, but to yourself.
What are you going to wait for? Your next life? Your next journey? Unfortunately, theories and religions apart, I have only one life that almost lost when I was a child. Since then and till now I live. I do make mistakes, sure; it may hurt, absolutely… so? I’m alive, are you?
Have the highest dreams you can possibly have, dare to dream and create a vision; risk and go for the vision. Scared? Obviously, you’re human, you may fail. So? Fail one and twenty times. Your life will be rich in experiences. After all, those are the things you’ll remember. As Garcia Marquez said, “vivir para contarla” so live and tell your story. If no-one listen, who cares, it’s your only and unique story and you’re the main character, executive producer, writer and director. You decide when, who, how, what; you stop and start; you choose.
Seek for love, seek for adventure, seek for passion, seek for taste, seek for simplicity. Don’t harm anyone, that’s the only limit. If it does happen, ask for an apology, we all can be wrong. Don’t be stubborn but be confident, don’t be excessively proud but don’t let others walk over you.
Eat plenty, tasty and big; pray for those who love and care for you; love till it hurts. Live to enjoy so much living you may choose to live again.
Monday, 13 September 2010
Manchester Posgraduate Research Conference 2010
The University of Manchester
School of Law
POSTGRADUATE RESEARCH CONFERENCE 2010
Alan Turing Building, Friday 17 September 2010
ABSTRACTS
SESSION 2: 11.30am – 1.00pm
Panel: Issues of national sovereignty
Jorge Nunez
Shared sovereignty: Falklands
From Chaucer women’s sovereignty through Bodin’s modern notion and to Nietzsche’s sovereign individual, the word sovereignty has had several meanings. In this investigation I aim to examine only one of them: State sovereignty. The paradigm I propose, although using the same elements from classical notions, twists their reciprocal relation. Many names or labels can be given to the model I intend to accomplish: bi-polar, shared, dual, double sovereignty. It is a necessary requirement then for the proposed model to have at least two sovereign States that somehow have (or intend to have) at the same time the same legal prerogatives over the same population and territory. We are used to seeing and accepting as a fact that in one territory there is one population governed by a single ultimate authority with a common legal bond or system of norms. What would it happen if that same territory and population had two ultimate and equal (legally speaking) sovereigns and two valid set of norms? There are several actual examples within the real context that show this is both a theoretical and a practical dilemma. Would it be possible, for example, that Israel and Palestine had sovereign authority at the same time over Jerusalem? Would it be plausible that Argentina and the United Kingdom could be at one time sovereign over the territory and population of the Falkland/Malvinas islands? If the answer were positive, what would be the consequences in terms of territory, population and law?
School of Law
POSTGRADUATE RESEARCH CONFERENCE 2010
Alan Turing Building, Friday 17 September 2010
ABSTRACTS
SESSION 2: 11.30am – 1.00pm
Panel: Issues of national sovereignty
Jorge Nunez
Shared sovereignty: Falklands
From Chaucer women’s sovereignty through Bodin’s modern notion and to Nietzsche’s sovereign individual, the word sovereignty has had several meanings. In this investigation I aim to examine only one of them: State sovereignty. The paradigm I propose, although using the same elements from classical notions, twists their reciprocal relation. Many names or labels can be given to the model I intend to accomplish: bi-polar, shared, dual, double sovereignty. It is a necessary requirement then for the proposed model to have at least two sovereign States that somehow have (or intend to have) at the same time the same legal prerogatives over the same population and territory. We are used to seeing and accepting as a fact that in one territory there is one population governed by a single ultimate authority with a common legal bond or system of norms. What would it happen if that same territory and population had two ultimate and equal (legally speaking) sovereigns and two valid set of norms? There are several actual examples within the real context that show this is both a theoretical and a practical dilemma. Would it be possible, for example, that Israel and Palestine had sovereign authority at the same time over Jerusalem? Would it be plausible that Argentina and the United Kingdom could be at one time sovereign over the territory and population of the Falkland/Malvinas islands? If the answer were positive, what would be the consequences in terms of territory, population and law?
Thursday, 8 July 2010
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry 110 años/years
El Principito (y mi capítulo preferido)
The Little Prince (and my favourite chapter)
Capítulo 21
Entonces apareció el zorro:
-¡Buenos días! -dijo el zorro.
-¡Buenos días! -respondió cortésmente el principito que se
volvió pero no vío nada.
-Estoy aquí, bajo el manzano -díjo la voz.
-¿Quién eres tú? -preguntó el principito-. ¡Qué bonito eres!
-Soy un zorro -dijo el zorro.
-Ven a jugar conmigo -le propuso el principito-, ¡estoy tan triste!
-No puedo jugar contigo -dijo el zorro-, no estoy domesticado.
-¡Ah, perdón! -dijo el principito.
Pero después de una breve reflexión, añadió:
-¿Qué significa "domesticar"?
-Tú no eres de aquí -dijo el zorro- ¿qué buscas?
-Busco a los hombres -le respondió el principito-. ¿Qué significa "domesticar"?
-Los hombres -dijo el zorro- tienen escopetas y cazan. ¡Es muy molesto! Pero también crían gallinas. Es lo único
que les interesa. ¿Tú buscas gallinas?
-No -díjo el principito-. Busco amigos. ¿Qué significa "domesticar"? -volvió a preguntar el principito.
-Es una cosa ya olvidada -dijo el zorro-, significa "crear vínculos... "
-¿Crear vínculos?
-Efectivamente, verás -dijo el zorro-. Tú no eres para mí todavía más que un muchachito igual a otros cien mil
muchachitos y no te necesito para nada. Tampoco tú tienes necesidad de mí y no soy para ti más que un zorro
entre otros cien mil zorros semejantes. Pero si tú me domesticas, entonces tendremos necesidad el uno del
otro. Tú serás para mí único en el mundo, yo seré para ti único en el mundo...
-Comienzo a comprender -dijo el principito-. Hay una flor... creo que ella me ha domesticado...
-Es posible -concedió el zorro-, en la Tierra se ven todo tipo de cosas.
-¡Oh, no es en la Tierra! -exclamó el principito.
El zorro pareció intrigado:
-¿En otro planeta?
-Sí.
-¿Hay cazadores en ese planeta?
-No.
-¡Qué interesante! ¿Y gallinas?
-No.
-Nada es perfecto -suspiró el zorro.
Y después volviendo a su idea:
-Mi vida es muy monótona. Cazo gallinas y los hombres me cazan a mí. Todas las gallinas se parecen y todos
los hombres son iguales; por consiguiente me aburro un poco. Si tú me domesticas, mi vida estará llena de sól.
Conoceré el rumor de unos pasos diferentes a todos los demás. Los otros pasos me hacen esconder bajo la
tierra; los tuyos me llamarán fuera de la madriguera como una música. Y además, ¡mira! ¿Ves allá abajo los
campos de trigo? Yo no como pan y por lo tanto el trigo es para mí algo inútil. Los campos de trigo no me
recuerdan nada y eso me pone triste. ¡Pero tú tienes los cabellos dorados y será algo maravilloso cuando me
domestiques! El trigo, que es dorado también, será un recuerdo de ti. Y amaré el ruido del viento en el trigo.
El zorro se calló y miró un buen rato al principito:
-Por favor... domestícame -le dijo.
-Bien quisiera -le respondió el principito pero no tengo mucho tiempo. He de buscar amigos y conocer muchas
cosas.
-Sólo se conocen bien las cosas que se domestican -dijo el zorro-. Los hombres ya no fienen tiempo de conocer
nada. Lo compran todo hecho en las tiendas. Y como no hay tiendas donde vendan amigos, Ios hombres no
tienen ya amigos. ¡Si quieres un amigo, domestícame!
-¿Qué debo hacer? -preguntó el príncipito.
-Debes tener mucha paciencia -respondió el zorro-. Te sentarás al principio ún poco lejos de mí, así, en el suelo;
yo te miraré con el rabillo del ojo y tú no me dirás nada. El lenguaje es fuente de malos entendidos. Pero cada
día podrás sentarte un poco más cerca...
El principito volvió al día siguiente.
-Hubiera sido mejor -dijo el zorro- que vinieras a la misma hora. Si
vienes, por ejempló, a las cuatro de la tarde; desde las tres yo
empezaría a ser dichoso. Cuanto más avance la hora, más feliz
me sentiré. A las cuatro me sentiré agitado e inquieto, descubriré
así lo que vale la feliçidad. Pero si tú vienes a cualquier hora,
nunça sabré cuándo preparar mi corazón... Los ritos son
necesarios.
-¿Qué es un rito? -inquirió el principito.
-Es también algo demasiado olvidado -dijo el zorro-. Es lo que
hace que un día no se parezca a otro día y que una hora sea
diferente a otra.
Entre los cazadores, por ejemplo, hay un rito. Los jueves bailan con las muchachas del pueblo. Los jueves
entonces son días maravillosos en los que puedo ir de paseo hasta la viña. Si los cazadores no bailaran en día
fijo, todos los días se parecerían y yo no tendría vacaciones.
De esta manera el principito domesticó al zorro. Y cuando se fue acercando eI día de la partida:
-¡Ah! -dijo el zorro-, lloraré.
-Tuya es la culpa -le dijo el principito-, yo no quería hacerte daño, pero tú has querido que te domestique...
-Ciertamente -dijo el zorro.
- Y vas a llorar!, -dijo él principito.
-¡Seguro!
-No ganas nada.
-Gano -dijo el zoro- he ganado a causa del color del trigo.
Y luego añadió:
-Vete a ver las rosas; comprenderás que la tuya es única en el mundo. Volverás a decirme adiós y yo te regalaré
un secreto.
El principito se fue a ver las rosas a las que dijo:
-No son nada, ni en nada se parecen a mi rosa. Nadie las ha domesticado ni ustedes han domesticado a nadie.
Son como el zorro era antes, que en nada se diferenciaba de otros cien mil zorros. Pero yo le hice mi amigo y
ahora es único en el mundo.
Las rosas se sentían molestas oyendo al principito, que continuó diciéndoles:
-Son muy bellas, pero están vacías y nadie daría la vida por ustedes. Cualquiera que las vea podrá creer
indudablemente que mí rosa es igual que cualquiera de ustedes. Pero ella se sabe más importante que todas,
porque yo la he regado, porque ha sido a ella a la que abrigué con el fanal, porque yo le maté los gusanos (salvo
dos o tres que se hicieron mariposas ) y es a ella a la que yo he oído quejarse, alabarse y algunas veces hasta
callarse. Porque es mi rosa, en fin.
Y volvió con el zorro.
-Adiós -le dijo.
-Adiós -dijo el zorro-. He aquí mi secreto, que no puede ser más simple : sólo con el corazón se puede ver bien;
lo esencial es invisible para los ojos.
-Lo esencial es invisible para los ojos -repitió el principito para acordarse.
-Lo que hace más importante a tu rosa, es el tiempo que tú has perdido con ella.
-Es el tiempo que yo he perdido con ella... -repitió el principito para recordarlo.
-Los hombres han olvidado esta verdad -dijo el zorro-, pero tú no debes olvidarla. Eres responsable para siempre
de lo que has domesticado. Tú eres responsable de tu rosa...
-Yo soy responsable de mi rosa... -repitió el principito a fin de recordarlo
Chapter 21
It was then that the fox appeared.
"Good morning," said the fox.
"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.
"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."
"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."
"I am a fox," said the fox.
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.
But, after some thought, he added:
"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"
"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."
"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."
"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.
The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.
"On another planet?"
"Yes."
"Are there hunters on this planet?"
"No."
"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"
"No."
"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please-- tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."
The next day the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."
"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
The Little Prince (and my favourite chapter)
Capítulo 21
Entonces apareció el zorro:
-¡Buenos días! -dijo el zorro.
-¡Buenos días! -respondió cortésmente el principito que se
volvió pero no vío nada.
-Estoy aquí, bajo el manzano -díjo la voz.
-¿Quién eres tú? -preguntó el principito-. ¡Qué bonito eres!
-Soy un zorro -dijo el zorro.
-Ven a jugar conmigo -le propuso el principito-, ¡estoy tan triste!
-No puedo jugar contigo -dijo el zorro-, no estoy domesticado.
-¡Ah, perdón! -dijo el principito.
Pero después de una breve reflexión, añadió:
-¿Qué significa "domesticar"?
-Tú no eres de aquí -dijo el zorro- ¿qué buscas?
-Busco a los hombres -le respondió el principito-. ¿Qué significa "domesticar"?
-Los hombres -dijo el zorro- tienen escopetas y cazan. ¡Es muy molesto! Pero también crían gallinas. Es lo único
que les interesa. ¿Tú buscas gallinas?
-No -díjo el principito-. Busco amigos. ¿Qué significa "domesticar"? -volvió a preguntar el principito.
-Es una cosa ya olvidada -dijo el zorro-, significa "crear vínculos... "
-¿Crear vínculos?
-Efectivamente, verás -dijo el zorro-. Tú no eres para mí todavía más que un muchachito igual a otros cien mil
muchachitos y no te necesito para nada. Tampoco tú tienes necesidad de mí y no soy para ti más que un zorro
entre otros cien mil zorros semejantes. Pero si tú me domesticas, entonces tendremos necesidad el uno del
otro. Tú serás para mí único en el mundo, yo seré para ti único en el mundo...
-Comienzo a comprender -dijo el principito-. Hay una flor... creo que ella me ha domesticado...
-Es posible -concedió el zorro-, en la Tierra se ven todo tipo de cosas.
-¡Oh, no es en la Tierra! -exclamó el principito.
El zorro pareció intrigado:
-¿En otro planeta?
-Sí.
-¿Hay cazadores en ese planeta?
-No.
-¡Qué interesante! ¿Y gallinas?
-No.
-Nada es perfecto -suspiró el zorro.
Y después volviendo a su idea:
-Mi vida es muy monótona. Cazo gallinas y los hombres me cazan a mí. Todas las gallinas se parecen y todos
los hombres son iguales; por consiguiente me aburro un poco. Si tú me domesticas, mi vida estará llena de sól.
Conoceré el rumor de unos pasos diferentes a todos los demás. Los otros pasos me hacen esconder bajo la
tierra; los tuyos me llamarán fuera de la madriguera como una música. Y además, ¡mira! ¿Ves allá abajo los
campos de trigo? Yo no como pan y por lo tanto el trigo es para mí algo inútil. Los campos de trigo no me
recuerdan nada y eso me pone triste. ¡Pero tú tienes los cabellos dorados y será algo maravilloso cuando me
domestiques! El trigo, que es dorado también, será un recuerdo de ti. Y amaré el ruido del viento en el trigo.
El zorro se calló y miró un buen rato al principito:
-Por favor... domestícame -le dijo.
-Bien quisiera -le respondió el principito pero no tengo mucho tiempo. He de buscar amigos y conocer muchas
cosas.
-Sólo se conocen bien las cosas que se domestican -dijo el zorro-. Los hombres ya no fienen tiempo de conocer
nada. Lo compran todo hecho en las tiendas. Y como no hay tiendas donde vendan amigos, Ios hombres no
tienen ya amigos. ¡Si quieres un amigo, domestícame!
-¿Qué debo hacer? -preguntó el príncipito.
-Debes tener mucha paciencia -respondió el zorro-. Te sentarás al principio ún poco lejos de mí, así, en el suelo;
yo te miraré con el rabillo del ojo y tú no me dirás nada. El lenguaje es fuente de malos entendidos. Pero cada
día podrás sentarte un poco más cerca...
El principito volvió al día siguiente.
-Hubiera sido mejor -dijo el zorro- que vinieras a la misma hora. Si
vienes, por ejempló, a las cuatro de la tarde; desde las tres yo
empezaría a ser dichoso. Cuanto más avance la hora, más feliz
me sentiré. A las cuatro me sentiré agitado e inquieto, descubriré
así lo que vale la feliçidad. Pero si tú vienes a cualquier hora,
nunça sabré cuándo preparar mi corazón... Los ritos son
necesarios.
-¿Qué es un rito? -inquirió el principito.
-Es también algo demasiado olvidado -dijo el zorro-. Es lo que
hace que un día no se parezca a otro día y que una hora sea
diferente a otra.
Entre los cazadores, por ejemplo, hay un rito. Los jueves bailan con las muchachas del pueblo. Los jueves
entonces son días maravillosos en los que puedo ir de paseo hasta la viña. Si los cazadores no bailaran en día
fijo, todos los días se parecerían y yo no tendría vacaciones.
De esta manera el principito domesticó al zorro. Y cuando se fue acercando eI día de la partida:
-¡Ah! -dijo el zorro-, lloraré.
-Tuya es la culpa -le dijo el principito-, yo no quería hacerte daño, pero tú has querido que te domestique...
-Ciertamente -dijo el zorro.
- Y vas a llorar!, -dijo él principito.
-¡Seguro!
-No ganas nada.
-Gano -dijo el zoro- he ganado a causa del color del trigo.
Y luego añadió:
-Vete a ver las rosas; comprenderás que la tuya es única en el mundo. Volverás a decirme adiós y yo te regalaré
un secreto.
El principito se fue a ver las rosas a las que dijo:
-No son nada, ni en nada se parecen a mi rosa. Nadie las ha domesticado ni ustedes han domesticado a nadie.
Son como el zorro era antes, que en nada se diferenciaba de otros cien mil zorros. Pero yo le hice mi amigo y
ahora es único en el mundo.
Las rosas se sentían molestas oyendo al principito, que continuó diciéndoles:
-Son muy bellas, pero están vacías y nadie daría la vida por ustedes. Cualquiera que las vea podrá creer
indudablemente que mí rosa es igual que cualquiera de ustedes. Pero ella se sabe más importante que todas,
porque yo la he regado, porque ha sido a ella a la que abrigué con el fanal, porque yo le maté los gusanos (salvo
dos o tres que se hicieron mariposas ) y es a ella a la que yo he oído quejarse, alabarse y algunas veces hasta
callarse. Porque es mi rosa, en fin.
Y volvió con el zorro.
-Adiós -le dijo.
-Adiós -dijo el zorro-. He aquí mi secreto, que no puede ser más simple : sólo con el corazón se puede ver bien;
lo esencial es invisible para los ojos.
-Lo esencial es invisible para los ojos -repitió el principito para acordarse.
-Lo que hace más importante a tu rosa, es el tiempo que tú has perdido con ella.
-Es el tiempo que yo he perdido con ella... -repitió el principito para recordarlo.
-Los hombres han olvidado esta verdad -dijo el zorro-, pero tú no debes olvidarla. Eres responsable para siempre
de lo que has domesticado. Tú eres responsable de tu rosa...
-Yo soy responsable de mi rosa... -repitió el principito a fin de recordarlo
Chapter 21
It was then that the fox appeared.
"Good morning," said the fox.
"Good morning," the little prince responded politely, although when he turned around he saw nothing.
"I am right here," the voice said, "under the apple tree."
"Who are you?" asked the little prince, and added, "You are very pretty to look at."
"I am a fox," said the fox.
"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."
"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince.
But, after some thought, he added:
"What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"You do not live here," said the fox. "What is it that you are looking for?"
"I am looking for men," said the little prince. "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."
"It is possible," said the fox. "On the Earth one sees all sorts of things."
"Oh, but this is not on the Earth!" said the little prince.
The fox seemed perplexed, and very curious.
"On another planet?"
"Yes."
"Are there hunters on this planet?"
"No."
"Ah, that is interesting! Are there chickens?"
"No."
"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox.
But he came back to his idea.
"My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life. I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."
The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time.
"Please-- tame me!" he said.
"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."
"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."
"What must I do, to tame you?" asked the little prince.
"You must be very patient," replied the fox. "First you will sit down at a little distance from me-- like that-- in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day..."
The next day the little prince came back.
"It would have been better to come back at the same hour," said the fox. "If, for example, you come at four o'clock in the afternoon, then at three o'clock I shall begin to be happy. I shall feel happier and happier as the hour advances. At four o'clock, I shall already be worrying and jumping about. I shall show you how happy I am! But if you come at just any time, I shall never know at what hour my heart is to be ready to greet you... One must observe the proper rites..."
"What is a rite?" asked the little prince.
"Those also are actions too often neglected," said the fox. "They are what make one day different from other days, one hour from other hours. There is a rite, for example, among my hunters. Every Thursday they dance with the village girls. So Thursday is a wonderful day for me! I can take a walk as far as the vineyards. But if the hunters danced at just any time, every day would be like every other day, and I should never have any vacation at all."
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you-- the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars (except the two or three that we saved to become butterflies); because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye," he said.
"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."
"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--" said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.
"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."
"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.
Friday, 25 June 2010
La belleza. The Beauty.
La belleza.
Concepto abstracto y a la vez real, una de esas nociones con modo dual. Podemos recurrir a una definición de diccionario y en cualquier lengua todos coincidirán que se refiere al aspecto físico de una persona y la reunión de ciertas características.
Es cierto a primera vista. La belleza se refiere a aquellas características que percibimos en alguien desde los sentidos, siendo el principal en este campo la vista.
Sin embargo, no todos poseemos los mismos cánones, estándares, patrones respecto de esta noción. Para algunos será bello aquello que para otros puede simplemente no serlo y viceversa.
Sucede que la belleza es un valor y como todo valor depende de la apreciación de quien realice esa valoración. Si bien podemos hablar en términos teóricos de una valoración objetiva, lo cierto es que con vocablos valorativos como belleza es imposible deslindar la subjetividad.
Distinto es el caso si estamos de acuerdo en llamar bello a aquello que reúna una serie de requisitos pre determinados o acordados. Pero, en este caso, la valoración no será objetiva in se sino menos subjetiva por cuanto de todas maneras los elementos necesarios para llamar a algo bello han sido pre acordados por varios sujetos (varias subjetividades en un acuerdo).
Así, en determinada cultura puede considerarse bello el hecho de poseer ojos de color claro (occidente por ejemplo) mientras que en otras puede ser incluso símbolo de mala suerte (Pakistán).
De la misma forma que los rasgos físicos pueden ser valorados positiva o negativamente por distintas personas en diversas situaciones, lo son también las características intrínsecas (personalidad, sentido del humor, actitud respecto de otros, etc.).
Incluso, alguien considerado intrínsecamente bello por otro individuo puede ser considerado completamente lo contrario en el aspecto externo (también a la inversa). Parece obvio pero es dable subrayar que la belleza interna y la externa pueden tener relación mas no es ésta una relación necesaria por lo que bello intrínseco no implica necesariamente bello extrínseco y viceversa.
Ahora bien, hasta aquí el término belleza aplicado a la relación intersubjetiva (entre sujetos, seres humanos). Exactamente el mismo análisis puede hacerse respecto de objetos, acciones, omisiones, circunstancias, etc.
De suyo, un paisaje puede ser bello en un momento dado para una pareja de recién casados (valoración subjetiva de común acuerdo entre dos sujetos) mas años después ese mismo pasaje puede ser estimado disvalioso por uno o ambos integrantes de esa misma pareja que ahora está separada. En el caso ejemplificado, una circunstancia externa produjo el cambio en la valoración; pero esta circunstancia es de ninguna manera necesaria; la pareja podría perfectamente aun estar felizmente unida y sin embargo considerar ese mismo paisaje de forma disvaliosa. Como se adelantara, el mismo principio es aplicable a todo aquello que nos rodea, conocido o desconocido, tangible o intangible, desde un puro pensamiento hasta una obra de arte, desde una galaxia lejana hasta una ameba siempre y cuando estemos realizando un juicio valorativo y el valor en cuestión sea la belleza.
Ideal de belleza: Todos y cada uno tenemos un ideal de belleza en lo intrínseco y en lo exterior, en lo que hace a nosotros mismos, nuestra pareja, pares, sociedad, objetos, actitudes, etc. Asimismo, al encontrarnos viviendo en sociedad la comunidad poseerá valoraciones comunes respecto del aspecto físico, personalidad, interrelación con los demás, lugares, objetos, etc. En nuestra individualidad podemos o no ser influidos por los juicios de valor colectivo. De poco importa a los fines de este ensayo. Lo destacable nuevamente es el hecho que el ideal de belleza será tan subjetivo como cada uno de los juicios valorativos que hagamos en relación a este valor. Y ese estándar podrá permanecer intangible en la comunidad o en la individualidad por tiempo indeterminado (casi efímero o acompañarnos por el resto de nuestros días terrenos).
Lo fundamental es el carácter de subjetivo que en definitiva posee un valor como el de la belleza. Sin embargo, considero que en especiales circunstancias se dan casos paradigmáticos donde la comunidad o humanidad toda puede coincidir en valorar como bella una persona, actitud, objeto, lugar, hecho, acto o circunstancia. Es entonces que estamos en presencia de héroes, íconos, momentos y/o personalidades que dejan su huella en la historia.
The beauty
Abstract concept and the real time one of these concepts with dual mode. We can use a dictionary definition and in any language will agree that refers to a person's physical appearance and the meeting of certain features.
Certainly at first sight. Beauty refers to those characteristics we see in someone from the senses, the main view in this field.
However, not all have the same fees, standards, patterns on this notion. For some that will be beautiful for others it may simply not be and vice versa.
It turns out that beauty is a value as any value depends on the discretion of those who make such an assessment. While we speak in theoretical terms of an objective assessment, the truth is that evaluative words like beauty is impossible to separate the subjectivity.
Unlike the case if we agree to call beautiful that which meets a set of predetermined requirements or agreed. But in this case, the ratings are not objective but less subjective in it anyway because the elements necessary to call something beautiful have been pre agreed upon by several individuals (multiple subjectivities in an agreement).
Thus, in a given culture can be considered the possession of beautiful eye color (the West for example) while others may even be a symbol of bad luck (Pakistan).
In the same way that physical traits can be evaluated positively or negatively by different people in different situations, so too are the intrinsic characteristics (personality, sense of humor, attitude towards others, etc..).
Even someone considered inherently beautiful in another individual can be considered quite the opposite in outward appearance (also reversed). It seems obvious but it can be noted that the inner and outer beauty may be related but this is not a necessary relationship so beautiful beautiful does not necessarily intrinsic extrinsic and vice versa.
But here the term beauty applied to the intersubjective relationship (between subjects, humans). Exactly the same analysis can be done about objects, actions, omissions, conditions, etc..
In itself, a landscape can be beautiful at any given time for a newlywed couple (subjective assessment of agreement between two subjects) plus years later that disvalioso passage can be estimated by one or both members of that couple is now separately. In the case illustrated, an external circumstance produced the change in the valuation, but this circumstance is in no way necessary, the couple might well still be happily together and yet take the same form disvaliosa landscape. As advanced, the same principle applies to everything around us, known or unknown, tangible or intangible, from a pure thought into a work of art, from a distant galaxy to an amoeba long as we're making a value judgments and the value in question is the beauty.
Ideal Beauty: Every one we have an ideal of beauty in the intrinsic and external, in regard to ourselves, our spouses, peers, society, objects, attitudes. Also, find ourselves living in society the community will own joint assessments on physical appearance, personality, interaction with other people, places, objects, etc. In our individuality we may or may not be influenced by the collective value judgments. Of little importance for the purposes of this essay. The remarkable thing again is the fact that the ideal of beauty is so subjective as each of us to make value judgments in relation to this value. And that standard may remain untouchable in the community or individuality indefinitely (almost ephemeral or join us for the rest of our days on earth).
The key is the subjective nature ultimately has a value such as beauty. However, consider that special circumstances exist in typical cases where the community or humanity as a whole can agree on fair value as a person, attitude, object, place, event, act or circumstance. It is then that we are in the presence of heroes, icons, time and / or persons who leave their mark on history.
(translated using Google translate)
Concepto abstracto y a la vez real, una de esas nociones con modo dual. Podemos recurrir a una definición de diccionario y en cualquier lengua todos coincidirán que se refiere al aspecto físico de una persona y la reunión de ciertas características.
Es cierto a primera vista. La belleza se refiere a aquellas características que percibimos en alguien desde los sentidos, siendo el principal en este campo la vista.
Sin embargo, no todos poseemos los mismos cánones, estándares, patrones respecto de esta noción. Para algunos será bello aquello que para otros puede simplemente no serlo y viceversa.
Sucede que la belleza es un valor y como todo valor depende de la apreciación de quien realice esa valoración. Si bien podemos hablar en términos teóricos de una valoración objetiva, lo cierto es que con vocablos valorativos como belleza es imposible deslindar la subjetividad.
Distinto es el caso si estamos de acuerdo en llamar bello a aquello que reúna una serie de requisitos pre determinados o acordados. Pero, en este caso, la valoración no será objetiva in se sino menos subjetiva por cuanto de todas maneras los elementos necesarios para llamar a algo bello han sido pre acordados por varios sujetos (varias subjetividades en un acuerdo).
Así, en determinada cultura puede considerarse bello el hecho de poseer ojos de color claro (occidente por ejemplo) mientras que en otras puede ser incluso símbolo de mala suerte (Pakistán).
De la misma forma que los rasgos físicos pueden ser valorados positiva o negativamente por distintas personas en diversas situaciones, lo son también las características intrínsecas (personalidad, sentido del humor, actitud respecto de otros, etc.).
Incluso, alguien considerado intrínsecamente bello por otro individuo puede ser considerado completamente lo contrario en el aspecto externo (también a la inversa). Parece obvio pero es dable subrayar que la belleza interna y la externa pueden tener relación mas no es ésta una relación necesaria por lo que bello intrínseco no implica necesariamente bello extrínseco y viceversa.
Ahora bien, hasta aquí el término belleza aplicado a la relación intersubjetiva (entre sujetos, seres humanos). Exactamente el mismo análisis puede hacerse respecto de objetos, acciones, omisiones, circunstancias, etc.
De suyo, un paisaje puede ser bello en un momento dado para una pareja de recién casados (valoración subjetiva de común acuerdo entre dos sujetos) mas años después ese mismo pasaje puede ser estimado disvalioso por uno o ambos integrantes de esa misma pareja que ahora está separada. En el caso ejemplificado, una circunstancia externa produjo el cambio en la valoración; pero esta circunstancia es de ninguna manera necesaria; la pareja podría perfectamente aun estar felizmente unida y sin embargo considerar ese mismo paisaje de forma disvaliosa. Como se adelantara, el mismo principio es aplicable a todo aquello que nos rodea, conocido o desconocido, tangible o intangible, desde un puro pensamiento hasta una obra de arte, desde una galaxia lejana hasta una ameba siempre y cuando estemos realizando un juicio valorativo y el valor en cuestión sea la belleza.
Ideal de belleza: Todos y cada uno tenemos un ideal de belleza en lo intrínseco y en lo exterior, en lo que hace a nosotros mismos, nuestra pareja, pares, sociedad, objetos, actitudes, etc. Asimismo, al encontrarnos viviendo en sociedad la comunidad poseerá valoraciones comunes respecto del aspecto físico, personalidad, interrelación con los demás, lugares, objetos, etc. En nuestra individualidad podemos o no ser influidos por los juicios de valor colectivo. De poco importa a los fines de este ensayo. Lo destacable nuevamente es el hecho que el ideal de belleza será tan subjetivo como cada uno de los juicios valorativos que hagamos en relación a este valor. Y ese estándar podrá permanecer intangible en la comunidad o en la individualidad por tiempo indeterminado (casi efímero o acompañarnos por el resto de nuestros días terrenos).
Lo fundamental es el carácter de subjetivo que en definitiva posee un valor como el de la belleza. Sin embargo, considero que en especiales circunstancias se dan casos paradigmáticos donde la comunidad o humanidad toda puede coincidir en valorar como bella una persona, actitud, objeto, lugar, hecho, acto o circunstancia. Es entonces que estamos en presencia de héroes, íconos, momentos y/o personalidades que dejan su huella en la historia.
The beauty
Abstract concept and the real time one of these concepts with dual mode. We can use a dictionary definition and in any language will agree that refers to a person's physical appearance and the meeting of certain features.
Certainly at first sight. Beauty refers to those characteristics we see in someone from the senses, the main view in this field.
However, not all have the same fees, standards, patterns on this notion. For some that will be beautiful for others it may simply not be and vice versa.
It turns out that beauty is a value as any value depends on the discretion of those who make such an assessment. While we speak in theoretical terms of an objective assessment, the truth is that evaluative words like beauty is impossible to separate the subjectivity.
Unlike the case if we agree to call beautiful that which meets a set of predetermined requirements or agreed. But in this case, the ratings are not objective but less subjective in it anyway because the elements necessary to call something beautiful have been pre agreed upon by several individuals (multiple subjectivities in an agreement).
Thus, in a given culture can be considered the possession of beautiful eye color (the West for example) while others may even be a symbol of bad luck (Pakistan).
In the same way that physical traits can be evaluated positively or negatively by different people in different situations, so too are the intrinsic characteristics (personality, sense of humor, attitude towards others, etc..).
Even someone considered inherently beautiful in another individual can be considered quite the opposite in outward appearance (also reversed). It seems obvious but it can be noted that the inner and outer beauty may be related but this is not a necessary relationship so beautiful beautiful does not necessarily intrinsic extrinsic and vice versa.
But here the term beauty applied to the intersubjective relationship (between subjects, humans). Exactly the same analysis can be done about objects, actions, omissions, conditions, etc..
In itself, a landscape can be beautiful at any given time for a newlywed couple (subjective assessment of agreement between two subjects) plus years later that disvalioso passage can be estimated by one or both members of that couple is now separately. In the case illustrated, an external circumstance produced the change in the valuation, but this circumstance is in no way necessary, the couple might well still be happily together and yet take the same form disvaliosa landscape. As advanced, the same principle applies to everything around us, known or unknown, tangible or intangible, from a pure thought into a work of art, from a distant galaxy to an amoeba long as we're making a value judgments and the value in question is the beauty.
Ideal Beauty: Every one we have an ideal of beauty in the intrinsic and external, in regard to ourselves, our spouses, peers, society, objects, attitudes. Also, find ourselves living in society the community will own joint assessments on physical appearance, personality, interaction with other people, places, objects, etc. In our individuality we may or may not be influenced by the collective value judgments. Of little importance for the purposes of this essay. The remarkable thing again is the fact that the ideal of beauty is so subjective as each of us to make value judgments in relation to this value. And that standard may remain untouchable in the community or individuality indefinitely (almost ephemeral or join us for the rest of our days on earth).
The key is the subjective nature ultimately has a value such as beauty. However, consider that special circumstances exist in typical cases where the community or humanity as a whole can agree on fair value as a person, attitude, object, place, event, act or circumstance. It is then that we are in the presence of heroes, icons, time and / or persons who leave their mark on history.
(translated using Google translate)
Thursday, 24 June 2010
A Mamá... To Mum...
A Mamá,
Entre Amaia y Sandro encuentro las palabras que siempre te quiero decir.
Que lo disfrutes.
Te amo,
Jorge
To Mum,
Between Sandro and Amaia I find the words I always want to tell you.
Enjoy.
I love you,
Jorge
Entre Amaia y Sandro encuentro las palabras que siempre te quiero decir.
Que lo disfrutes.
Te amo,
Jorge
To Mum,
Between Sandro and Amaia I find the words I always want to tell you.
Enjoy.
I love you,
Jorge
Saturday, 29 May 2010
Tuesday, 25 May 2010
A mi hermano Juan, "el Gordo"
A mi hermano Juan, “el Gordo”,
Hoy llega uno más de tus días; sí, a tu cumpleaños me refiero. Se me dio por escribirte. Lo he hecho antes, lo hago ahora, pero esta vez distinto. Me dejo llevar por alguna fuerza que me dice que lo haga…
Siempre fuimos, siempre somos, siempre seremos tres: Jorge, Emiliano y Juan para todos; pero, entre nosotros, solamente entre nosotros, Jorge, Emi y el Gordo.
Desde chicos siempre juntos… como sabes, mi memoria no es buena, Sin embargo recuerdo esas noches de fines de semana cuando Papá de iba a Pergamino y dormíamos todos en una cama encerrados en la pieza de arriba (con la Tía Raquel abajo… me pregunto ahora que hubiese pasado con ella si alguien hubiese entrado?).
Los mate de leche desde chicos con ella y con Tita. Aunque Emi siempre se las arreglaba para caerles mejor jugando a las cartas.
Los rastis, los pedazos de madera, las carátulas de colores del Juzgado que cortábamos en rectángulos… tantas cosas.
Te acordás como agarrabas a Bixú (o Biyú o como quieras) de la cadena y la hacías volar por el aire mientras girabas con ella? A otro lo hubiera matado, pero a vos no. Y cuándo te agarró por comer tierra? O cuando te enojabas esas veces que apuntábamos a esa foto de jardín de infantes en la que se te asoma la cabeza desde una polera o pullover con cuello alto? Te acordás cómo te decíamos Emi y yo?
Y el juaringoso???
Me sonrío porque escribiendo esto me vienen mil y una cosas a la memoria.
Trajiste a mi vida a la Rubia Xuxa con una canción de colores y yo te mostré en Italia a Picard y toda la trouppe del Enterprise. Me hiciste querer tanto a Michael Jackson que cada vez que lo escucho en algún rincón del mundo te haces presente. Y pensar que era Emi el que bailaba Thriller o Billi Jean (o algo así) siguiendo los pasos de Anteojito.
Tu equipo y tus oídos aguantaron a Xuxa, a Thalia, a tanta otra música (es cierto, si se puede llamar así!) que e gusta a tu hermano más grande; aguantaste a mis amigos que invadían la casa cuando armaba las reuniones del pueblo, me aguantaste en la depresión del ’97, estuviste en cada momento, seguirás estando.
Sos la persona que creo más se me parece (nada más que más parco, o mejor, más directo). Creo que en eso también Emi se me parece, en lo de ser algunas veces más político que real. Pero bueno, también es cierto que soy unos años más grande.
Los veranos en el Mar de Ajó de nunca me gustó y que hoy extraño, de nuevo los tres, de nuevo los cinco.
No estuve en tu casamiento, el proyecto que era el sueño que hoy vivo me llevó lejos; a pesar de eso, te sentí ese día, sé que de alguna manera estuve, así como estuve para Emi. Tu unión está bendecida como la de él.
Sos especial, y no lo sos porque sos mi hermano, el más chico de los tres, sino porque tenés la magia que compartimos los cinco… te acordás del alfajor dividido en 5 pedazos iguales? Seguro que sí.
Y Bruja, y la Gorda, y Manchester, Gimnasia, Mandiyú, Estudiantes, el Goyco y Susana, Diego y Miguel Jackson, el Chila y las carreras de Fórmula 1, Star Trek (nunca Star Wars!) y tantas cosas más.
He conocido un sinnúmero de personas de todos y cada uno de los rincones del mundo… dicen que un amigo es un hermano que se elige y un hermano es un amigo que la vida te da… vos como Emi son los dos.
Cuatro personas tienen en mi existencia el privilegio, derecho y prioridad de pedir lo que quieran. Vos sos una de ellas.
Sos especial, sos fuerte (más de lo que pensás), sos inteligente (una de las personas más intuitivas y racionales que conozco), sos mi hermano y estoy orgulloso de tenerte y tenerlo a Emi al lado mío.
Agradezco a Mamá y Papá, al destino, a Dios (como quieras) el haber compartido, compartir y seguir compartiendo este triunvirato de pura, simple, profunda, sincera y real hermandad.
Gracias por la magia de estos años, gracias por los momentos que vivimos, gracias por estar conmigo en este camino, gracias por ser mi hermano todos los días.
Que tus sueños más infantiles se hagan presente y te colmen de felicidad; que los que estén cerca de ti sean capaz de ver la luz que irradias; que si no la ven, que tengas la sabiduría de iluminarlos; que seas pleno de dicha.
Y tené por seguro que en esta existencia y en cuantas más hayan pasado y estén por venir, estoy, estuve y estaré para apoyarte, para abrazarte, para contenerte, para levantarte, para destruir aquéllo y aquéllos que te hieran o siquiera te molesten, para hablarte, para escucharte.
Por hoy nada más… por escribir me refiero… a vos toda la felicidad.
Te quiere, te respeta, se enorgullece, te lleva en el pecho, te ama,
Tu hermano,
Siempre,
Jorge
Hoy llega uno más de tus días; sí, a tu cumpleaños me refiero. Se me dio por escribirte. Lo he hecho antes, lo hago ahora, pero esta vez distinto. Me dejo llevar por alguna fuerza que me dice que lo haga…
Siempre fuimos, siempre somos, siempre seremos tres: Jorge, Emiliano y Juan para todos; pero, entre nosotros, solamente entre nosotros, Jorge, Emi y el Gordo.
Desde chicos siempre juntos… como sabes, mi memoria no es buena, Sin embargo recuerdo esas noches de fines de semana cuando Papá de iba a Pergamino y dormíamos todos en una cama encerrados en la pieza de arriba (con la Tía Raquel abajo… me pregunto ahora que hubiese pasado con ella si alguien hubiese entrado?).
Los mate de leche desde chicos con ella y con Tita. Aunque Emi siempre se las arreglaba para caerles mejor jugando a las cartas.
Los rastis, los pedazos de madera, las carátulas de colores del Juzgado que cortábamos en rectángulos… tantas cosas.
Te acordás como agarrabas a Bixú (o Biyú o como quieras) de la cadena y la hacías volar por el aire mientras girabas con ella? A otro lo hubiera matado, pero a vos no. Y cuándo te agarró por comer tierra? O cuando te enojabas esas veces que apuntábamos a esa foto de jardín de infantes en la que se te asoma la cabeza desde una polera o pullover con cuello alto? Te acordás cómo te decíamos Emi y yo?
Y el juaringoso???
Me sonrío porque escribiendo esto me vienen mil y una cosas a la memoria.
Trajiste a mi vida a la Rubia Xuxa con una canción de colores y yo te mostré en Italia a Picard y toda la trouppe del Enterprise. Me hiciste querer tanto a Michael Jackson que cada vez que lo escucho en algún rincón del mundo te haces presente. Y pensar que era Emi el que bailaba Thriller o Billi Jean (o algo así) siguiendo los pasos de Anteojito.
Tu equipo y tus oídos aguantaron a Xuxa, a Thalia, a tanta otra música (es cierto, si se puede llamar así!) que e gusta a tu hermano más grande; aguantaste a mis amigos que invadían la casa cuando armaba las reuniones del pueblo, me aguantaste en la depresión del ’97, estuviste en cada momento, seguirás estando.
Sos la persona que creo más se me parece (nada más que más parco, o mejor, más directo). Creo que en eso también Emi se me parece, en lo de ser algunas veces más político que real. Pero bueno, también es cierto que soy unos años más grande.
Los veranos en el Mar de Ajó de nunca me gustó y que hoy extraño, de nuevo los tres, de nuevo los cinco.
No estuve en tu casamiento, el proyecto que era el sueño que hoy vivo me llevó lejos; a pesar de eso, te sentí ese día, sé que de alguna manera estuve, así como estuve para Emi. Tu unión está bendecida como la de él.
Sos especial, y no lo sos porque sos mi hermano, el más chico de los tres, sino porque tenés la magia que compartimos los cinco… te acordás del alfajor dividido en 5 pedazos iguales? Seguro que sí.
Y Bruja, y la Gorda, y Manchester, Gimnasia, Mandiyú, Estudiantes, el Goyco y Susana, Diego y Miguel Jackson, el Chila y las carreras de Fórmula 1, Star Trek (nunca Star Wars!) y tantas cosas más.
He conocido un sinnúmero de personas de todos y cada uno de los rincones del mundo… dicen que un amigo es un hermano que se elige y un hermano es un amigo que la vida te da… vos como Emi son los dos.
Cuatro personas tienen en mi existencia el privilegio, derecho y prioridad de pedir lo que quieran. Vos sos una de ellas.
Sos especial, sos fuerte (más de lo que pensás), sos inteligente (una de las personas más intuitivas y racionales que conozco), sos mi hermano y estoy orgulloso de tenerte y tenerlo a Emi al lado mío.
Agradezco a Mamá y Papá, al destino, a Dios (como quieras) el haber compartido, compartir y seguir compartiendo este triunvirato de pura, simple, profunda, sincera y real hermandad.
Gracias por la magia de estos años, gracias por los momentos que vivimos, gracias por estar conmigo en este camino, gracias por ser mi hermano todos los días.
Que tus sueños más infantiles se hagan presente y te colmen de felicidad; que los que estén cerca de ti sean capaz de ver la luz que irradias; que si no la ven, que tengas la sabiduría de iluminarlos; que seas pleno de dicha.
Y tené por seguro que en esta existencia y en cuantas más hayan pasado y estén por venir, estoy, estuve y estaré para apoyarte, para abrazarte, para contenerte, para levantarte, para destruir aquéllo y aquéllos que te hieran o siquiera te molesten, para hablarte, para escucharte.
Por hoy nada más… por escribir me refiero… a vos toda la felicidad.
Te quiere, te respeta, se enorgullece, te lleva en el pecho, te ama,
Tu hermano,
Siempre,
Jorge
Sunday, 16 May 2010
Miércoles 18.03.09
Alma compartida entre tantos seres que no son,
o mejor, que quieren ser mas no encuentra el camino.
¿Cuándo, cómo, quién sabe si existe tal razón?
Y sin embargo marchan cual manada a paso cansino.
Creo no ven esa misma realidad estos ojos observan;
convencidos parecen de estar haciendo lo debido.
¿Debido de acuerdo a quién? Y no tienen respuesta cuando a esta pregunta se enfrentan.
¿Será entonces que no les interesa, felices son sus existencias o por simple miedo a hallar real sentido?
Perro, casa, auto, niños, vacaciones anuales y domingos reunidos
Receta simple y efectiva para la felicidad terrena.
¿Cierto? Ustedes digan pues sus caras reflejan llantos contenidos.
Si fue sueño en etapas primeras, hoy la concreción debería llenarlos de gracia plena.
No es crítica o burla lo que inspira la pluma.
Es intentar comprender aquello que ahoga el gozo
de transformar deseos en aparente suma.
¿O será (como dudo) el pálido rostro de la soledad desmigaja el todo en pútridos trozos?
o mejor, que quieren ser mas no encuentra el camino.
¿Cuándo, cómo, quién sabe si existe tal razón?
Y sin embargo marchan cual manada a paso cansino.
Creo no ven esa misma realidad estos ojos observan;
convencidos parecen de estar haciendo lo debido.
¿Debido de acuerdo a quién? Y no tienen respuesta cuando a esta pregunta se enfrentan.
¿Será entonces que no les interesa, felices son sus existencias o por simple miedo a hallar real sentido?
Perro, casa, auto, niños, vacaciones anuales y domingos reunidos
Receta simple y efectiva para la felicidad terrena.
¿Cierto? Ustedes digan pues sus caras reflejan llantos contenidos.
Si fue sueño en etapas primeras, hoy la concreción debería llenarlos de gracia plena.
No es crítica o burla lo que inspira la pluma.
Es intentar comprender aquello que ahoga el gozo
de transformar deseos en aparente suma.
¿O será (como dudo) el pálido rostro de la soledad desmigaja el todo en pútridos trozos?
Receta para lograr un sueño o de cómo alcanzar un sueño. Recipe for a dream or how to achieve a dream.
Receta para lograr un sueño o de cómo alcanzar un sueño.
¿Cómo se alcanza un sueño? Primer ingrediente, tener al menos un sueño. Parece simple, pero he comprobado no lo es. He conocido tanta gente a lo largo de la vida (la mayoría diría) que no posee sueños. Sus planes consisten en levantarse a cierta hora, pensar que les depara el próximo día en el trabajo, quizá que van a llevarse a la boca a la hora del almuerzo o cena, si son un poco aventurados alguna otra actividad antes de volver al hogar (gimnasio, deportes, compras, otras), cena solos o en familia frente a la televisión o en torno a la mesa diaria en silencio o con charlas que siempre giran alrededor de los mismos temas. Y los fines de semana: descansar del cansancio de la semana; rutinas que la casa, el departamento, automóvil necesitan; más compras; alguna visitas a amigos y/o familiares… y vuelta a empezar la rueda de la fortuna el lunes.
Algunos consideran un sueño el estar libres el fin de semana; otros, el llegar a los 60’s con una pensión decorosa y retirarse a dejarse morir de a poco generalmente planteándose: “si volviera a ser joven haría…”; “en la próxima vida voy a trabajar menos y vivir más…”
Pero, ¿qué es un sueño? ¿Necesita ser difícil, improbable, fantástico, único? No lo creo. Sueños son aquellas cosas, acciones, personas, situaciones, etc. que deseamos ser, poseer, vivir. Desde una bicicleta o el cabello de otro color cuando somos jóvenes hasta una casa, autos importados, vueltas al mundo, cuentas bancarias obscenas en la adultez. Cada quien posee los suyos en tamaños, formas y alcances diferentes. Creo que todos estos factores dependen de cuanto uno cree en sí mismo. No pienso estén condicionados por experiencias, lugar en que nacemos, etc., circunstancias todas entiendo aleatorias. A fin de cuentas, los cambios a nuestro alrededor se producen siempre y cuando pongamos en marcha la maquinaria que llamamos universo y que consiste en todo aquello que nos rodea. Si no nos movemos, no caminamos, parpadeamos, respiramos… Por supuesto otros pueden (y de hecho lo hacen) interferir con nuestras conductas. Esa interferencia puede ser positiva (coadyuvando) o negativa (haciendo lento el camino o simplemente oponiendo resistencia a nuestras acciones).
¿Puede la interferencia de otros respecto de nuestra conducta hacernos desistir y finalmente aniquilar un sueño? De ninguna manera. Considero esencial e intrínseco a un sueño su carácter imperturbable y, a fin de cuentas, alcanzable. Si alguien o algo es lo suficientemente fuerte o poderoso para hacernos desistir, es que aquél no era nuestro real sueño; más bien un simple deseo al paso que bien puede hacernos decaer el hecho de no conseguir pero que en definitiva puede ser rápida y fácilmente reemplazado por otro/s nuevo/s deseos.
En cambio, si dejamos (subrayo, DEJAMOS) que otros desangren los sueños que tenemos, estamos permitiendo dar rienda suelta a cualquiera para que juegue a su antojo con nuestra esencia, aquéllo de lo que estamos formados y que nos hace seguir.
Disney una vez expresó: lo único entre uno y un sueño es uno mismo. Coincido completamente. Simple pero de una verdad pretérita.
Aliados de los sueños deben ser la paciencia y la perseverancia. Y cuanto más grandes y complejos los sueños, más de estos dos aliados necesitaremos.
El haber nacido en un contexto latinoamericano y el permitirme la existencia en uno anglosajón han dado un balance sutil del que he siempre tratado de observar lo mejor de ambos mundos.
Del sur vienen las musas, los espíritus, lo trascendental, el contacto con la sangre, madre tierra y naturaleza, el otro y el yo en uno, el uno, el muchos, el todos. Del norte, la calma, el tiempo, lo tangible, el producto, el respeto (por uno, por los demás).
Diría entonces que los sueños se apoderan de nosotros de alguna forma en algún momento de nuestras vidas por tiempos diversos y se encaraman a nuestra alma. Dependiendo de la fuerza de esa amalgama, de la confianza en uno mismo, el fuego interno que sólo algunos tienen, y el hecho que el sueño sea específico, mensurable, alcanzable, realista y temporal, siento y pienso totalmente posible el alcanzar la meta.
Soñar depende de uno y las musas; alcanzar el sueño, de nosotros mismos.
Recipe for a dream or how to achieve a dream.
How to achieve a dream? First ingredient, have at least one dream. It seems simple, but I have not. I met so many people throughout life (most would say) that does not have dreams. His plans are to get up at some time, thinking that lie next day at work, maybe that will be mouthed at lunch or dinner, if you're a bit adventurous some other activity before returning to home ( fitness, sports, shopping, etc.), or in a family dinner in front of the television or daily around the table in silence or with talks that always revolve around the same themes. And the weekends, forget the tiredness of the week; routines house, apartment, car needs, more shopping, some visiting friends and / or family ... and back again the wheel of fortune on Monday.
Some see a dream to be free the weekend, others getting to the 60's with a decent pension and retire himself to death by little usually stated: "If I were young I would ..." "in the next life I to work less and live more ... "
But what is a dream? Need to be difficult, improbable, fantastic, unique? I think not. Dreams are things, actions, persons, situations. we want to be, have, to live. Since a bicycle or hair of another color when we are young to a house, imported cars, trips around the world, bank accounts obscene in adulthood. Everyone has their own sizes, shapes and different scopes. I think all these factors depend on how much one believes in himself. I do not think they are conditioned by experience, place of birth, etc., Understand all random circumstances. After all, the changes occurring around us as long as we set in motion the machinery that we call the universe and that is everything that surrounds us. If we do not move, do not walk, blink, breathe ... Of course others may (and indeed do) interfere with our behaviors. Such interference can be positive (contributing) or negative (by the way, or simply slow resisting our actions).
Can the interference of others for our behavior and ultimately deter us kill a dream? No way. Consider it essential and intrinsic to sleep undisturbed nature, and ultimately, attainable. If someone or something is strong or powerful enough to deter us, is that this was not our real dream, but rather a simple desire to step that may well wane us not achieving but ultimately can be quickly and easily replaced other / s new / s wishes.
However, if we (I emphasize, we leave) that others bleed the dreams we have, we are allowing anyone to vent to play at will with our essence, that what we are trained and that makes us go.
Disney once said, only between one and a dream is you. I agree completely. Simple but a bygone truth.
Allies of dreams must be patience and perseverance. And the largest and most complex dreams, most of these two allies need.
Having been born in a Latin American context and allowing the existence in an Anglo-Saxon gave a subtle balance that I have always tried to observe the best of both worlds.
From the south come the Muses, spirits, the transcendental, contact with blood, mother earth and nature, and I the other one, the one, the many, all. North, calm time, the tangible, product, respect (for one, others).
Then I would say that dreams hold of us in some way at some point in our lives for different times and climb to our soul. Depending on the strength of the amalgam of self-confidence, the inner fire that only a few have, and the fact that sleep is specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time, and I feel totally possible to achieve the goal.
To dream depends on one and the Muses; to achieve the dream of ourselves.
(translated using Google translate)
¿Cómo se alcanza un sueño? Primer ingrediente, tener al menos un sueño. Parece simple, pero he comprobado no lo es. He conocido tanta gente a lo largo de la vida (la mayoría diría) que no posee sueños. Sus planes consisten en levantarse a cierta hora, pensar que les depara el próximo día en el trabajo, quizá que van a llevarse a la boca a la hora del almuerzo o cena, si son un poco aventurados alguna otra actividad antes de volver al hogar (gimnasio, deportes, compras, otras), cena solos o en familia frente a la televisión o en torno a la mesa diaria en silencio o con charlas que siempre giran alrededor de los mismos temas. Y los fines de semana: descansar del cansancio de la semana; rutinas que la casa, el departamento, automóvil necesitan; más compras; alguna visitas a amigos y/o familiares… y vuelta a empezar la rueda de la fortuna el lunes.
Algunos consideran un sueño el estar libres el fin de semana; otros, el llegar a los 60’s con una pensión decorosa y retirarse a dejarse morir de a poco generalmente planteándose: “si volviera a ser joven haría…”; “en la próxima vida voy a trabajar menos y vivir más…”
Pero, ¿qué es un sueño? ¿Necesita ser difícil, improbable, fantástico, único? No lo creo. Sueños son aquellas cosas, acciones, personas, situaciones, etc. que deseamos ser, poseer, vivir. Desde una bicicleta o el cabello de otro color cuando somos jóvenes hasta una casa, autos importados, vueltas al mundo, cuentas bancarias obscenas en la adultez. Cada quien posee los suyos en tamaños, formas y alcances diferentes. Creo que todos estos factores dependen de cuanto uno cree en sí mismo. No pienso estén condicionados por experiencias, lugar en que nacemos, etc., circunstancias todas entiendo aleatorias. A fin de cuentas, los cambios a nuestro alrededor se producen siempre y cuando pongamos en marcha la maquinaria que llamamos universo y que consiste en todo aquello que nos rodea. Si no nos movemos, no caminamos, parpadeamos, respiramos… Por supuesto otros pueden (y de hecho lo hacen) interferir con nuestras conductas. Esa interferencia puede ser positiva (coadyuvando) o negativa (haciendo lento el camino o simplemente oponiendo resistencia a nuestras acciones).
¿Puede la interferencia de otros respecto de nuestra conducta hacernos desistir y finalmente aniquilar un sueño? De ninguna manera. Considero esencial e intrínseco a un sueño su carácter imperturbable y, a fin de cuentas, alcanzable. Si alguien o algo es lo suficientemente fuerte o poderoso para hacernos desistir, es que aquél no era nuestro real sueño; más bien un simple deseo al paso que bien puede hacernos decaer el hecho de no conseguir pero que en definitiva puede ser rápida y fácilmente reemplazado por otro/s nuevo/s deseos.
En cambio, si dejamos (subrayo, DEJAMOS) que otros desangren los sueños que tenemos, estamos permitiendo dar rienda suelta a cualquiera para que juegue a su antojo con nuestra esencia, aquéllo de lo que estamos formados y que nos hace seguir.
Disney una vez expresó: lo único entre uno y un sueño es uno mismo. Coincido completamente. Simple pero de una verdad pretérita.
Aliados de los sueños deben ser la paciencia y la perseverancia. Y cuanto más grandes y complejos los sueños, más de estos dos aliados necesitaremos.
El haber nacido en un contexto latinoamericano y el permitirme la existencia en uno anglosajón han dado un balance sutil del que he siempre tratado de observar lo mejor de ambos mundos.
Del sur vienen las musas, los espíritus, lo trascendental, el contacto con la sangre, madre tierra y naturaleza, el otro y el yo en uno, el uno, el muchos, el todos. Del norte, la calma, el tiempo, lo tangible, el producto, el respeto (por uno, por los demás).
Diría entonces que los sueños se apoderan de nosotros de alguna forma en algún momento de nuestras vidas por tiempos diversos y se encaraman a nuestra alma. Dependiendo de la fuerza de esa amalgama, de la confianza en uno mismo, el fuego interno que sólo algunos tienen, y el hecho que el sueño sea específico, mensurable, alcanzable, realista y temporal, siento y pienso totalmente posible el alcanzar la meta.
Soñar depende de uno y las musas; alcanzar el sueño, de nosotros mismos.
Recipe for a dream or how to achieve a dream.
How to achieve a dream? First ingredient, have at least one dream. It seems simple, but I have not. I met so many people throughout life (most would say) that does not have dreams. His plans are to get up at some time, thinking that lie next day at work, maybe that will be mouthed at lunch or dinner, if you're a bit adventurous some other activity before returning to home ( fitness, sports, shopping, etc.), or in a family dinner in front of the television or daily around the table in silence or with talks that always revolve around the same themes. And the weekends, forget the tiredness of the week; routines house, apartment, car needs, more shopping, some visiting friends and / or family ... and back again the wheel of fortune on Monday.
Some see a dream to be free the weekend, others getting to the 60's with a decent pension and retire himself to death by little usually stated: "If I were young I would ..." "in the next life I to work less and live more ... "
But what is a dream? Need to be difficult, improbable, fantastic, unique? I think not. Dreams are things, actions, persons, situations. we want to be, have, to live. Since a bicycle or hair of another color when we are young to a house, imported cars, trips around the world, bank accounts obscene in adulthood. Everyone has their own sizes, shapes and different scopes. I think all these factors depend on how much one believes in himself. I do not think they are conditioned by experience, place of birth, etc., Understand all random circumstances. After all, the changes occurring around us as long as we set in motion the machinery that we call the universe and that is everything that surrounds us. If we do not move, do not walk, blink, breathe ... Of course others may (and indeed do) interfere with our behaviors. Such interference can be positive (contributing) or negative (by the way, or simply slow resisting our actions).
Can the interference of others for our behavior and ultimately deter us kill a dream? No way. Consider it essential and intrinsic to sleep undisturbed nature, and ultimately, attainable. If someone or something is strong or powerful enough to deter us, is that this was not our real dream, but rather a simple desire to step that may well wane us not achieving but ultimately can be quickly and easily replaced other / s new / s wishes.
However, if we (I emphasize, we leave) that others bleed the dreams we have, we are allowing anyone to vent to play at will with our essence, that what we are trained and that makes us go.
Disney once said, only between one and a dream is you. I agree completely. Simple but a bygone truth.
Allies of dreams must be patience and perseverance. And the largest and most complex dreams, most of these two allies need.
Having been born in a Latin American context and allowing the existence in an Anglo-Saxon gave a subtle balance that I have always tried to observe the best of both worlds.
From the south come the Muses, spirits, the transcendental, contact with blood, mother earth and nature, and I the other one, the one, the many, all. North, calm time, the tangible, product, respect (for one, others).
Then I would say that dreams hold of us in some way at some point in our lives for different times and climb to our soul. Depending on the strength of the amalgam of self-confidence, the inner fire that only a few have, and the fact that sleep is specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time, and I feel totally possible to achieve the goal.
To dream depends on one and the Muses; to achieve the dream of ourselves.
(translated using Google translate)
Friday, 7 May 2010
Ithaca/Ítaca by/de Constantino Cavafis (1863-1933)
Ithaca
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.
Ítaca
Cuando emprendas tu viaje a Itaca
pide que el camino sea largo,
lleno de aventuras, lleno de experiencias.
no temas a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes,
ni al colérico posidón,
seres tales jamás hallarás en tu camino,
si tu pensar es elevado, si selecta
es la emoción que toca tu espíritu y tu cuerpo.
Ni a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes
ni al salvaje Posidón encontrarás,
si no lo llevas dentro de tu alma,
si no los yergue tu alma ante tí.
Pide que el camino sea largo.
Que sean muchas las mañanas de verano
en que llegues -¡con qué placer y alegría!-
a puertos antes nunca vistos.
Detente en los emporios de Fenicia
y hazte con hermosas mercancías,
nacar y coral, ámbar y ébano
y toda suerte de perfumes voluptuosos,
cuantos más abundantes perfumes voluptuosos puedas.
Ve a muchas ciudades egipcias
a aprender de sus sabios.
Ten siempre a Itaca en tu pensamiento.
Tu llegada allí es tu destino.
Mas no apresures nunca el viaje.
mejor que dure muchos años
y atracar, viejo ya, en la isla,
enriquecido de cuanto ganaste en el camino
sin aguardar a que Itaca te enriquezca.
Itaca te brindó tan hermoso viaje.
Sin ella no habrías emprendido el camino.
Pero no tiene ya nada que darte.
Aunque la halles pobre, Itaca no te ha engañado.
Así, sabio como te has vuelto, con tanta experiencia,
entenderás ya qué significan las Itacas.
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.
Ítaca
Cuando emprendas tu viaje a Itaca
pide que el camino sea largo,
lleno de aventuras, lleno de experiencias.
no temas a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes,
ni al colérico posidón,
seres tales jamás hallarás en tu camino,
si tu pensar es elevado, si selecta
es la emoción que toca tu espíritu y tu cuerpo.
Ni a los lestrigones ni a los cíclopes
ni al salvaje Posidón encontrarás,
si no lo llevas dentro de tu alma,
si no los yergue tu alma ante tí.
Pide que el camino sea largo.
Que sean muchas las mañanas de verano
en que llegues -¡con qué placer y alegría!-
a puertos antes nunca vistos.
Detente en los emporios de Fenicia
y hazte con hermosas mercancías,
nacar y coral, ámbar y ébano
y toda suerte de perfumes voluptuosos,
cuantos más abundantes perfumes voluptuosos puedas.
Ve a muchas ciudades egipcias
a aprender de sus sabios.
Ten siempre a Itaca en tu pensamiento.
Tu llegada allí es tu destino.
Mas no apresures nunca el viaje.
mejor que dure muchos años
y atracar, viejo ya, en la isla,
enriquecido de cuanto ganaste en el camino
sin aguardar a que Itaca te enriquezca.
Itaca te brindó tan hermoso viaje.
Sin ella no habrías emprendido el camino.
Pero no tiene ya nada que darte.
Aunque la halles pobre, Itaca no te ha engañado.
Así, sabio como te has vuelto, con tanta experiencia,
entenderás ya qué significan las Itacas.
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
The Queen X Part III (in three parts)
As it was inevitable, her fame spread out from city to city, town to town, village to village, all over the country, and then, around the globe.
She became to be known as the Queen X, the Queen of children or the Queen of hearts. The sun appeared earlier… Every day was full of joy. People were always smiling. She started the miracle…
The general attitude of the inhabitants of the country changed. Everyone was polite to others, letting the rest to express their views and opinions, not being friendly to every person but respecting them all. She loved and was loved by many people. She discovered so many things… but she was missing the beauty of her home planet and the warm hearts of her people and parents.
The news, as easily predictable, reached the King’s ears. He was scared. Although he had never been popular among the crowd, they had always feared him. Now, with X there, they could see there was a possibility of something different, something better without even making more effort: just a change of attitude was needed.
No one in fact thought about overthrowing him; it was just his unconfident personality and that he knew his actions were evil that made him decide to do something about her.
Far from his predecessors or fairy tails, he did not send someone to kidnap, torture, poison or kill X. He just pressed the media to produce bad news against her.
Two days later she was on the news on every newspaper and on TV’s national channel.
“Clarinet”, one of the main newspapers in that period of time, published 13 consecutive issues with X’s news on the front page.
She was called so many things and so many theories were developed around her that we would need a complete book just to detail them.
At the end she was left alone. She did not argue or battle against this machinery. She just kept silent. But she was not completely on her own: Archibald, Gordal and Bixux were always there by her side.
Her skin colour changed though. Now she appeared to be pale, almost transparent. Her image looked even mightier as she was dressed all time in white…
The day finally came as the Gods had predicted. Three years after her departure a light came from the sky. It started as an immense luminous eagle with ample wings. Then, it converted into one single thread, a ray of pure light. It came directly to where X and her companions were. A second later they vanished. Just steam and smoke were left…
Most thought she had died. They still do think so. Although few people believed in her by then, a feeling of deep sadness invaded the whole nation.
Someone whose kindness and beautifulness could not be compared was gone. And they knew no one would ever replace her. They all felt an X was stamped in their hearts, something had changed.
They did not to overthrow the king. He simply passed away. The “Clarinet” went into bankruptcy after the justice found out their business was dirty. The country still exists and with all the same problems. However something is different.
They know something better is possible. Anything can be, it is only a matter of a bit of courage and a lot of faith. There is nothing impossible. No one can harm them again. The love that comes from one’s chest makes any dream come true. And whenever they feel they are loosing that faith, they just need to look at the sky on a clear night for the first star that appears next to the crystal moon. They all know (who knows why?) X is there reigning with her only child. But that is another story …
She became to be known as the Queen X, the Queen of children or the Queen of hearts. The sun appeared earlier… Every day was full of joy. People were always smiling. She started the miracle…
The general attitude of the inhabitants of the country changed. Everyone was polite to others, letting the rest to express their views and opinions, not being friendly to every person but respecting them all. She loved and was loved by many people. She discovered so many things… but she was missing the beauty of her home planet and the warm hearts of her people and parents.
The news, as easily predictable, reached the King’s ears. He was scared. Although he had never been popular among the crowd, they had always feared him. Now, with X there, they could see there was a possibility of something different, something better without even making more effort: just a change of attitude was needed.
No one in fact thought about overthrowing him; it was just his unconfident personality and that he knew his actions were evil that made him decide to do something about her.
Far from his predecessors or fairy tails, he did not send someone to kidnap, torture, poison or kill X. He just pressed the media to produce bad news against her.
Two days later she was on the news on every newspaper and on TV’s national channel.
“Clarinet”, one of the main newspapers in that period of time, published 13 consecutive issues with X’s news on the front page.
She was called so many things and so many theories were developed around her that we would need a complete book just to detail them.
At the end she was left alone. She did not argue or battle against this machinery. She just kept silent. But she was not completely on her own: Archibald, Gordal and Bixux were always there by her side.
Her skin colour changed though. Now she appeared to be pale, almost transparent. Her image looked even mightier as she was dressed all time in white…
The day finally came as the Gods had predicted. Three years after her departure a light came from the sky. It started as an immense luminous eagle with ample wings. Then, it converted into one single thread, a ray of pure light. It came directly to where X and her companions were. A second later they vanished. Just steam and smoke were left…
Most thought she had died. They still do think so. Although few people believed in her by then, a feeling of deep sadness invaded the whole nation.
Someone whose kindness and beautifulness could not be compared was gone. And they knew no one would ever replace her. They all felt an X was stamped in their hearts, something had changed.
They did not to overthrow the king. He simply passed away. The “Clarinet” went into bankruptcy after the justice found out their business was dirty. The country still exists and with all the same problems. However something is different.
They know something better is possible. Anything can be, it is only a matter of a bit of courage and a lot of faith. There is nothing impossible. No one can harm them again. The love that comes from one’s chest makes any dream come true. And whenever they feel they are loosing that faith, they just need to look at the sky on a clear night for the first star that appears next to the crystal moon. They all know (who knows why?) X is there reigning with her only child. But that is another story …
Tuesday, 27 April 2010
The Queen X Part II (in three parts)
Minutes later she was leaving the first galaxy behind, where her home planet was the centre. More planets, asteroids, suns, all with curious orbits and different shapes came after. Some with spiral shapes as she had seen them before; others flat, triangular, rounded, completely dark or brighter than any known star; some very rich in soil and nature but without any kind of population; a few with only one inhabitant who owned a whole planet but did not have anyone else to talk to.
I will not describe each and every encounter X and her companions had as it would take far too long and it is not the intention of this story. But I can assure there will be the opportunity to let you all know about these delightful and at the same time wicked events.
It is worth to mention though some of the phrases she listened to and advices she was given: “be realistic!; sometimes one has to do bad to do good; believe in others but above all, believe in you; the only thing between a dream and you is you; wish upon a star, you never know who is paying attention; aim higher”…
Exactly seven days after she left her home town she saw at the distance a bright light and nine different sized spheres of diverse colours around. The third one from the fired centre was the blue planet she was looking for.
As her ship went close to the planet, it started making circles around the sphere as checking everything was in order in that new world. After three complete circles, it directed its way to the bottom. First white and blue, then clouds and after that brown and blue patches with green spots.
Heavy rain surprised “X” as in her home world they did not have that kind of phenomenon. All the mirror/windows were covered in water. At first she was a bit frightened. All her companions were too. But her curiosity won and she had to open one of the windows to see what was going on. As she opened it, the drops hit heavily her face but she was so delighted with the experience she decided to open all of them to let the rain in.
The rain stopped and the sky became deep blue. That was when she saw something she would never ever forget: her first rainbow over the green and dense vegetation.
The territory where her spacecraft landed was called Argentium. It was a very rich and vast land with very kind people ruled by a tyrant King called Acionte. He was tall and thin as a lamp post; with a very pale face that looked even paler because he was always dressed in dark black from toes to neck. Black, inexpressive, dead eyes finished that spectrum type look.
Although he tried hard to show himself arrogant and strong someone sensitive could realize he was extremely insecure and weak.
The country had everything to be immensely rich (the land, the natural resources, the weather, the people) but it was in a deep crisis both economic and morally.
To this world in such a state X arrived. She was instantly popular among the people. A sort of divine figure from above made flesh by enchantment was the shared feeling.
Wherever she was, crowds of people followed her. Caravans of cars, buses, bikes, anything that could transport someone were always behind her in procession.
She only needed to be there and everyone felt in peace with a profound sensation of fulfilment. She treated everyone the same no matter colour, religion, social background, sexual orientation or anything else. She even taught (without intention, just through her actions) that there were not disabled people since we all had different abilities, from walking or simply chewing a gum to feeling deeper than others. We were just special in our particular and individual way of being.
Her aspect of a woman in her early 30’s with incredibly shaped and toned physic, pink glossy lips, perfect nose, sparkling crystal blue eyes and a head crowned by think golden blond hair mixed with her elegant and soft manners, diplomatically correct attitude and that firm voice of her with sweet and at the same time fiery accent made her irresistible to children and grown ups.
She was a child in a goddess body with the most humble personality someone could have ever seen.
I will not describe each and every encounter X and her companions had as it would take far too long and it is not the intention of this story. But I can assure there will be the opportunity to let you all know about these delightful and at the same time wicked events.
It is worth to mention though some of the phrases she listened to and advices she was given: “be realistic!; sometimes one has to do bad to do good; believe in others but above all, believe in you; the only thing between a dream and you is you; wish upon a star, you never know who is paying attention; aim higher”…
Exactly seven days after she left her home town she saw at the distance a bright light and nine different sized spheres of diverse colours around. The third one from the fired centre was the blue planet she was looking for.
As her ship went close to the planet, it started making circles around the sphere as checking everything was in order in that new world. After three complete circles, it directed its way to the bottom. First white and blue, then clouds and after that brown and blue patches with green spots.
Heavy rain surprised “X” as in her home world they did not have that kind of phenomenon. All the mirror/windows were covered in water. At first she was a bit frightened. All her companions were too. But her curiosity won and she had to open one of the windows to see what was going on. As she opened it, the drops hit heavily her face but she was so delighted with the experience she decided to open all of them to let the rain in.
The rain stopped and the sky became deep blue. That was when she saw something she would never ever forget: her first rainbow over the green and dense vegetation.
The territory where her spacecraft landed was called Argentium. It was a very rich and vast land with very kind people ruled by a tyrant King called Acionte. He was tall and thin as a lamp post; with a very pale face that looked even paler because he was always dressed in dark black from toes to neck. Black, inexpressive, dead eyes finished that spectrum type look.
Although he tried hard to show himself arrogant and strong someone sensitive could realize he was extremely insecure and weak.
The country had everything to be immensely rich (the land, the natural resources, the weather, the people) but it was in a deep crisis both economic and morally.
To this world in such a state X arrived. She was instantly popular among the people. A sort of divine figure from above made flesh by enchantment was the shared feeling.
Wherever she was, crowds of people followed her. Caravans of cars, buses, bikes, anything that could transport someone were always behind her in procession.
She only needed to be there and everyone felt in peace with a profound sensation of fulfilment. She treated everyone the same no matter colour, religion, social background, sexual orientation or anything else. She even taught (without intention, just through her actions) that there were not disabled people since we all had different abilities, from walking or simply chewing a gum to feeling deeper than others. We were just special in our particular and individual way of being.
Her aspect of a woman in her early 30’s with incredibly shaped and toned physic, pink glossy lips, perfect nose, sparkling crystal blue eyes and a head crowned by think golden blond hair mixed with her elegant and soft manners, diplomatically correct attitude and that firm voice of her with sweet and at the same time fiery accent made her irresistible to children and grown ups.
She was a child in a goddess body with the most humble personality someone could have ever seen.
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
The Queen X Part I (in three parts)
Once upon a time... there was a little princess who lived in a far, far planet.
Her hair was as blond and luminous as rays of sun. Her eyes, crystal blue; so deep you could see her lonely but passionate and adventurous soul. Pink glossy lips, small perfect nose and immaculate white skin completed her face.
She was five years old, always dressed in bright colours ranging from yellow to red, white, blue and pink. One detail present in every single outfit’s chest and/or arms: an “X”.
Her parents were the Queen and King of this far kingdom in this far far planet called Brazilo. They could never have babies before so they asked the Three Gods to have a child. In exchange, the Gods informed them that at the age of five their child was going to travel seven galaxies following her destiny. She would come to that world –they explained- to be a Queen in a remote and never ending land where people needed to know what happiness was.
Her parents accepted and that same night the Gods asked them to leave in their master bedroom the balcony windows open so to let the spring breeze come in. And next to the windows, a round wooden table with a yellow rose blossom without water.
The parents reminded the Gods that the flower would need water to survive the night but the Holy Trinity explained water was not necessary if they really believed.
They did what the Gods had asked them to do and went to bed falling almost immediately in a deep but peaceful sleep.
The breeze started blowing stronger and even the table was moving but the blossom stayed there. Suddenly a light appeared from inside and illuminated the whole room. It lasted just a few seconds but left blue tiny stars that filled the air as pixie dust.
When the Queen and King got up the following morning discovered the rose was showing all its beauty and inside, exactly in the middle, a baby the size of a seed was looking at them with her blue sea eyes.
As mystery and destiny, faith and hope surrounded her birth, they decided to name the newborn “X”.
The time went by and “X” blossomed showing brightness wherever she was. When she was around everyone was full of happiness; but not of empty and meaningless happiness. People that met her felt something pure deep inside and had always the necessity of doing something good for others without expecting any reward or recognition. That was her gift: leading people to give the best from them.
Some of you may think this was easy for her since all people in this small planet had everything they needed and could imagine. However, her magic was not due to the place she was born but came from her pure soul…
The day finally came. Her fifth birthday arrived. Exactly a week before, one night of full moon, the Queen and the King were visited by the Gods again.
They asked her parents to order the construction of an intergalactic transport in the shape of a dish. Once finished, it looked as if it had and inverted rounded coffee cup on top (including the handle), followed by two soup plates, all in white. As “legs”, two straws in red and white colours with two big black shoes. And as a periscope it had another bended straw in the same colours as the legs. The unusual object had just below the cup and on top of the first plate a massive multicoloured and luminous letter “X”. Inside, just one big room surrounded by mirrors and only one huge sofa that covered all the outer circle of the floor. Exactly in the middle, one white “X” shaped table and by one side, the control panel. It looked more like a Hollywood’s star mirror with bulbs all around. “What about the engine?” the parents asked the Trinity. “There will not be any engine”, they replied. The ship (as they called it) will move and fly due to simple faith. Its name: Popotito 23.
“X will not travel alone”, the God continued explaining. She was going to have three companions: a duck, Archibald; a cat, Gordal; and a dog, Bixux. “Just three pets?” the parents inquired worried. “Not JUST three pets”, the Trinity went on. Archibald was tempered as a unicorn; Gordal had the wisdom of the dragons; and Bixux, the strength of the lions. All the three represented the essential virtues and combined together under “X” direction would have an interesting and unique effect in the right place and at the right time.
The last piece of the jigsaw: a squared red golden ring. The Holy Trinity made it appear in the middle finger of “X” left hand: a plain, very simple ring of square shape made of red gold. “It represents eternal love”, they said to her. “As love changes shapes but do not alters its true essence with the time, so will you and it will be reflected in your outfit which will be different everyday thanks to the golden ring. Your appearance will change as per your mood or needs but you will always remain with your true virtues”, they explained.
The Queen, the King, “X” and thousands of colourful citizens congregated at the Major Park below the Palace as the Gods asked. The ship was also there in the middle of the crowd. The Trinity started: “You will now ascend with your ship to the sky. Archibald, Gordal and Bixux are already waiting for you inside. You will travel seven galaxies and meet different people and cultures, know what is on the sky and the seas, visit vast and small lands, and will land at last in a blue planet, in an territory which borders are so far apart the four seasons are always present at the same time, with a fertile soil, a vivid nature but a lost population. That place is called Argentium. You will spend three years there and find out the reason they are in such a state having everything they could wish or dream about. You will learn from but you will also teach them. What to teach, what to learn? Only you will find out as we can not tell. Only you can fulfil your destiny. We are here as one of the episodes of your life time travel in this existence but you will be the one who will be choosing her own adventure every time you will be in front of an option. You and only you with the advice of the three virtues will conquest what is waiting beyond…One last thing: you will look to others as if you were 33 years of age although deep inside you will always be your same age now, hence five. Remember that since people will expect you to behave as a grown up. Once again, another choice…”
“X” nodded her head at every comment and once the Trinity finished, she hugged both her parents, waved to the crowd and vanished into the thin air. As she vanished, the ship ascended calm and slowly to the bright blue sky. No one cried. No one was sad. They all knew (without knowing why) she was going to be back in three years time…
Her hair was as blond and luminous as rays of sun. Her eyes, crystal blue; so deep you could see her lonely but passionate and adventurous soul. Pink glossy lips, small perfect nose and immaculate white skin completed her face.
She was five years old, always dressed in bright colours ranging from yellow to red, white, blue and pink. One detail present in every single outfit’s chest and/or arms: an “X”.
Her parents were the Queen and King of this far kingdom in this far far planet called Brazilo. They could never have babies before so they asked the Three Gods to have a child. In exchange, the Gods informed them that at the age of five their child was going to travel seven galaxies following her destiny. She would come to that world –they explained- to be a Queen in a remote and never ending land where people needed to know what happiness was.
Her parents accepted and that same night the Gods asked them to leave in their master bedroom the balcony windows open so to let the spring breeze come in. And next to the windows, a round wooden table with a yellow rose blossom without water.
The parents reminded the Gods that the flower would need water to survive the night but the Holy Trinity explained water was not necessary if they really believed.
They did what the Gods had asked them to do and went to bed falling almost immediately in a deep but peaceful sleep.
The breeze started blowing stronger and even the table was moving but the blossom stayed there. Suddenly a light appeared from inside and illuminated the whole room. It lasted just a few seconds but left blue tiny stars that filled the air as pixie dust.
When the Queen and King got up the following morning discovered the rose was showing all its beauty and inside, exactly in the middle, a baby the size of a seed was looking at them with her blue sea eyes.
As mystery and destiny, faith and hope surrounded her birth, they decided to name the newborn “X”.
The time went by and “X” blossomed showing brightness wherever she was. When she was around everyone was full of happiness; but not of empty and meaningless happiness. People that met her felt something pure deep inside and had always the necessity of doing something good for others without expecting any reward or recognition. That was her gift: leading people to give the best from them.
Some of you may think this was easy for her since all people in this small planet had everything they needed and could imagine. However, her magic was not due to the place she was born but came from her pure soul…
The day finally came. Her fifth birthday arrived. Exactly a week before, one night of full moon, the Queen and the King were visited by the Gods again.
They asked her parents to order the construction of an intergalactic transport in the shape of a dish. Once finished, it looked as if it had and inverted rounded coffee cup on top (including the handle), followed by two soup plates, all in white. As “legs”, two straws in red and white colours with two big black shoes. And as a periscope it had another bended straw in the same colours as the legs. The unusual object had just below the cup and on top of the first plate a massive multicoloured and luminous letter “X”. Inside, just one big room surrounded by mirrors and only one huge sofa that covered all the outer circle of the floor. Exactly in the middle, one white “X” shaped table and by one side, the control panel. It looked more like a Hollywood’s star mirror with bulbs all around. “What about the engine?” the parents asked the Trinity. “There will not be any engine”, they replied. The ship (as they called it) will move and fly due to simple faith. Its name: Popotito 23.
“X will not travel alone”, the God continued explaining. She was going to have three companions: a duck, Archibald; a cat, Gordal; and a dog, Bixux. “Just three pets?” the parents inquired worried. “Not JUST three pets”, the Trinity went on. Archibald was tempered as a unicorn; Gordal had the wisdom of the dragons; and Bixux, the strength of the lions. All the three represented the essential virtues and combined together under “X” direction would have an interesting and unique effect in the right place and at the right time.
The last piece of the jigsaw: a squared red golden ring. The Holy Trinity made it appear in the middle finger of “X” left hand: a plain, very simple ring of square shape made of red gold. “It represents eternal love”, they said to her. “As love changes shapes but do not alters its true essence with the time, so will you and it will be reflected in your outfit which will be different everyday thanks to the golden ring. Your appearance will change as per your mood or needs but you will always remain with your true virtues”, they explained.
The Queen, the King, “X” and thousands of colourful citizens congregated at the Major Park below the Palace as the Gods asked. The ship was also there in the middle of the crowd. The Trinity started: “You will now ascend with your ship to the sky. Archibald, Gordal and Bixux are already waiting for you inside. You will travel seven galaxies and meet different people and cultures, know what is on the sky and the seas, visit vast and small lands, and will land at last in a blue planet, in an territory which borders are so far apart the four seasons are always present at the same time, with a fertile soil, a vivid nature but a lost population. That place is called Argentium. You will spend three years there and find out the reason they are in such a state having everything they could wish or dream about. You will learn from but you will also teach them. What to teach, what to learn? Only you will find out as we can not tell. Only you can fulfil your destiny. We are here as one of the episodes of your life time travel in this existence but you will be the one who will be choosing her own adventure every time you will be in front of an option. You and only you with the advice of the three virtues will conquest what is waiting beyond…One last thing: you will look to others as if you were 33 years of age although deep inside you will always be your same age now, hence five. Remember that since people will expect you to behave as a grown up. Once again, another choice…”
“X” nodded her head at every comment and once the Trinity finished, she hugged both her parents, waved to the crowd and vanished into the thin air. As she vanished, the ship ascended calm and slowly to the bright blue sky. No one cried. No one was sad. They all knew (without knowing why) she was going to be back in three years time…
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Friday, 9 April 2010
Falklands: an Argentinean invention? A British solution? Malvinas: un invento argentino? Una solución británica?
Falklands: an Argentinean invention? A British solution?
In 1982 the Argentinean Military Government tried to recover the Falkland’s Islands from British hands. The official reason: the Britons had taken them illegitimately some time ago.
Leaving at one side the historical discussion about who arrived first to the islands (Spanish or Britons), who moved there, who left them, etc., we shall only focus this essay on the motives that ended up in the 1982 was and its consequences.
On the one hand, Argentina with a Military Government present since 1976. Its popularity was diminishing within the population. In 1978 they tried to obtain major adhesion with the organization of the football world cup. It seems it had the effect they were looking forward to obtaining as some people’s consciousness fall asleep. However, the years went by and the kidnappings, tortures and deaths continued and the economic situation got worse. All these elements contributed to the oxidization of the governmental machinery so they needed a new effect blow to regain unity and adhesion (as television shows seek higher ratings using desperate attempts).
To attack an internal enemy would generate more problems and divisions within since 6 years of confrontation were undermining the civil society. An external enemy common to all was the best solution. And if we added the fact that the national defence, the patriotic pride (or better, simply pride) taking into account an object that was publicly announced as stolen, the result was clear.
It is similar to the case of a family with several children that grow up with the legend of the stolen wealth in a previous generation by another family. No one would challenge or doubt about what the majors have said. And despite the personal interest the children may have, when the opportunity came they would put together all their efforts if they were compelled to defend the family name and recover the pride of the group.
On the other hand, on the other side of the ocean and up in the globe, England with a Prime Minister in a very unpopular situation. With measures that only helped to attack the middle and low classes, cities like Liverpool or Stoke on Trent affected by the massive closures of factories leaving men and women of mid age in an unemployed band difficult to insert in the job market due to the fact they did not have enough formal education, only techniques learnt from generation to generation in the same factories their parents and grandparents did. The unions, dismantled. The State, in debt.
To a society in such a situation it had very little importance the destiny (in fact they did not even remember their existence) of some big stones on a sea at the south of the end of the world. Furthermore, the same British government was planning to give back in the long term that expensive enterprise to the Argentineans (and for this they have precedents such as Hong Kong so it would have not resulted a novelty for their international relations).
But the luck had been already decided. With big drums and trumpets, the islands were taken by the Argentinean forces. We shall not enter into the analysis or narration of the sad events that followed as the youngsters of both States were doing something more that fulfilling their duty: they were defending as their own way what they considered they mother country.
It results interesting to highlight to us the popular level of ingenuity at this point in time: people in the Argentinean south disguising themselves as ghosts so to scare the enemy; collection of letters with candies and other things so to be delivered to the young defenders of the State that were resold in other markets. It is true and this is a good example: in many cases people believe what they want to believe.
At the end of the story, both governments were playing a political chess with a swaying level of popularity in the two States. The United Kingdom won and Margaret Thatcher continued ruling for 10 years becoming the Iron Lady; Argentina was beaten and democratic elections were called the following year.
Could it be said that thanks to the fact that the United Kingdom won the war Argentina recover its democracy? Would the military government in Argentina have continued if they won the war? If so, would Margaret Thatcher have lost the elections? We shall leave these questions to the reader.
What is clear, at least for us, is that even after 2000 years of history the governments continue using the roman “bread and circus” and different societies accept it and live it with joy.
Moreover, almost 30 years after that episode the same phenomenon take place over and over again: every future President in campaign in Argentina promises the islands will be back (however there is no eco in the northern State as reality shows no developments have been made); and up north… nothing, simply nothing; the Britons remember little about a conflict three decades ago in a lost south sea.
Some still insist on selling the theory that the northerners pretend the archipelago because of the vast black treasure hidden beneath the sea. The truth is that there is no study regarding the veracity of this urban legend. And let suppose that in the best of all possible scenarios that a petroliferous mantle bigger than the ones in Middle East or Venezuela took place beneath the South Atlantic Ocean: Argentina does not posses the necessary means for its investigation, perforation and exploitation so the State would be obliged in any case to adjudicate the business to foreign entrepreneurs (the case of YPF).
This essay does not pretend in any way to support one or the other. We want to have a neutral vision of a mere political conflict between two governments over 30 years ago exploited until its ultimate consequences for three decades by one of them and whose starring actors, the people from Argentina and the United Kingdom, no participation have and the inhabitants of the islands have to tolerate.
Malvinas: un invento argentino? Una solución británica?
Allá por 1982 el Gobierno Militar argentino intentó recuperar las Islas Malvinas de manos de los británicos. La razón oficial: éstos las habían tomado de forma ilegitima tiempo atrás.
Dejando de lado la discusión histórica acerca de quienes fueron los primeros en llegar a las islas (españoles o británicos), quienes se asentaron en ellas, quienes las abandonaron, etc., solamente centraremos este ensayo en los motivos que llevaron al enfrentamiento de 1982 y sus consecuencias.
De un lado, Argentina con un Gobierno Militar presente desde 1976. Su popularidad en baja entre la población. En 1978 se intentó lograr mayor adhesión con la llegada del mundial de fútbol que al parecer logró en algunos el efecto de adormilar las conciencias. Mas los años pasaron, los secuestros, torturas y muertes continuaron y la situación económica empeoró. Estos elementos comenzaron por oxidar la maquinaria gubernamental y se necesitaba un nuevo golpe de efecto para lograr unidad y adhesión (a la manera de un programa de televisión que busca rating a manotazos desesperados).
Atacar un enemigo interno generaría más problemas y divisiones puesto que 6 años de enfrentamiento estaban minando la sociedad civil. Un enemigo foráneo común a todos era la mejor solución. Y si sumamos el hecho de la defensa nacional, del orgullo patrio (mejor, orgullo a secas) tomando como objeto algo que se publicitaba como robado, el resultado era claro.
Es similar al caso de una familia con varios hijos que crecen con la leyenda de la riqueza robada en la generación anterior por otra familia. Nadie pone en duda la veracidad de los dichos de los mayores. Y pese a los intereses personales de los hijos, llegada la oportunidad, éstos generalmente aunaran esfuerzos si son conducidos en una gesta por la defensa del apellido en pos de recuperar el orgullo de la casta.
Del otro lado del océano y arriba en el globo, Inglaterra con una Primer Ministro en franca impopularidad. Medidas que no habían hecho más que atacar a las clases media y baja, ciudades como Liverpool o Stoke on Trent afectadas por cierres masivos de fábricas dejando a hombres y mujeres de mediana edad en una franja de desempleo difícil de insertar en el mercado laboral por no contar con estudios suficientes, sólo técnicas aprendidas de generación en generación en las mismas fábricas que sus padres y abuelos lo hicieron. Los gremios desmembrados. El país endeudado.
A una sociedad en esta situación poco importaba el destino (de hecho menos recordaban la existencia) de peñascos en un mar del sur del fin del mundo. De hecho, el mismo gobierno británico estaba planeando devolver a largo plazo tan costosa empresa a los argentinos (y para esto poseen antecedentes como el de Hong Kong por lo que no sería extraño a sus relaciones internacionales).
Pero la suerte estaba echada. Con bombos y platillos, las islas fueron tomadas por las fuerzas argentinas. No entraré en el análisis o narración de los penosos hechos sobrevinientes ya que los jóvenes de ambas naciones estaban haciendo algo que fue más que cumplir con un deber, defender cada uno a su manera la patria. Resulta interesante a quien escribe subrayar ciertos acontecimientos que dan cuenta de la ingenuidad popular del momento: gente en el sur argentino disfrazándose de fantasmas cerca de la costa para ahuyentar al enemigo; colección de cartas con golosinas y demás para ser entregados a los jóvenes defensores del país que eran revendidas en otros mercados. Es cierto y este es un buen ejemplo, en muchos casos la gente cree lo que quiere creer.
A fin de cuentas, ambos gobiernos jugaban un ajedrez político en un tambaleante nivel de popularidad en los dos países. Venció el Reino Unido y Margaret Tatcher continuó 10 años más transformándose en la dama de hierro; Argentina resultó vencida y se debieron convocar elecciones democráticas el año siguiente.
Podría decirse que gracias a que el Reino Unido venció fue que Argentina recuperó la democracia? Hubiese el Gobierno Militar seguido en Argentina de haber ganado la guerra y Margaret Tatcher hubiera perdido las elecciones? Dejo estos interrogantes al lector.
Lo que queda claro, al menos para quien escribe, es que aun luego de 2000 años de historia los gobiernos siguen usando el “pan y circo romano” y sociedades distintas lo aceptan y festejan con beneplácito.
Incluso hoy, a 27 años de la gesta se da el mismo fenómeno: cada futuro presidente en campaña en Argentina promete las islas volverán (mas nunca se encuentra el eco real en el país del norte pues la realidad muestra que no hay gestiones); y arriba … nada, simplemente nada; el pueblo británico poco recuerda acerca de un conflicto bélico sucedido hace tres décadas en un mar perdido al sur.
Algunos incluso siguen intentando vender la teoría que los del norte pretenden el archipiélago por el cuantioso tesoro negro escondido debajo de las aguas. Lo cierto es que no existen estudios acerca de la veracidad de esta leyenda urbana. Y supongamos en el mejor de los casos que un manto petrolífero mayor que cualquiera de Medio Oriente o Venezuela yaciera en las aguas del Atlántico Sur: Argentina no cuenta con los medios para la investigación, perforación y explotación por lo que se vería obligada de todas maneras a adjudicar la plaza a capitales extranjeros (YPF, recuerdan?).
Este ensayo de ninguna manera pretende apoyar a unos o a otros. Se intenta una visión neutral de un conflicto meramente político entre dos gobiernos casi 30 años atrás explotado hasta el hartazgo por tres décadas por uno de ellos y cuyos actores principales, los pueblos argentino y británico, ninguna injerencia poseen y los pobladores de las islas se ven obligados a soportar.
In 1982 the Argentinean Military Government tried to recover the Falkland’s Islands from British hands. The official reason: the Britons had taken them illegitimately some time ago.
Leaving at one side the historical discussion about who arrived first to the islands (Spanish or Britons), who moved there, who left them, etc., we shall only focus this essay on the motives that ended up in the 1982 was and its consequences.
On the one hand, Argentina with a Military Government present since 1976. Its popularity was diminishing within the population. In 1978 they tried to obtain major adhesion with the organization of the football world cup. It seems it had the effect they were looking forward to obtaining as some people’s consciousness fall asleep. However, the years went by and the kidnappings, tortures and deaths continued and the economic situation got worse. All these elements contributed to the oxidization of the governmental machinery so they needed a new effect blow to regain unity and adhesion (as television shows seek higher ratings using desperate attempts).
To attack an internal enemy would generate more problems and divisions within since 6 years of confrontation were undermining the civil society. An external enemy common to all was the best solution. And if we added the fact that the national defence, the patriotic pride (or better, simply pride) taking into account an object that was publicly announced as stolen, the result was clear.
It is similar to the case of a family with several children that grow up with the legend of the stolen wealth in a previous generation by another family. No one would challenge or doubt about what the majors have said. And despite the personal interest the children may have, when the opportunity came they would put together all their efforts if they were compelled to defend the family name and recover the pride of the group.
On the other hand, on the other side of the ocean and up in the globe, England with a Prime Minister in a very unpopular situation. With measures that only helped to attack the middle and low classes, cities like Liverpool or Stoke on Trent affected by the massive closures of factories leaving men and women of mid age in an unemployed band difficult to insert in the job market due to the fact they did not have enough formal education, only techniques learnt from generation to generation in the same factories their parents and grandparents did. The unions, dismantled. The State, in debt.
To a society in such a situation it had very little importance the destiny (in fact they did not even remember their existence) of some big stones on a sea at the south of the end of the world. Furthermore, the same British government was planning to give back in the long term that expensive enterprise to the Argentineans (and for this they have precedents such as Hong Kong so it would have not resulted a novelty for their international relations).
But the luck had been already decided. With big drums and trumpets, the islands were taken by the Argentinean forces. We shall not enter into the analysis or narration of the sad events that followed as the youngsters of both States were doing something more that fulfilling their duty: they were defending as their own way what they considered they mother country.
It results interesting to highlight to us the popular level of ingenuity at this point in time: people in the Argentinean south disguising themselves as ghosts so to scare the enemy; collection of letters with candies and other things so to be delivered to the young defenders of the State that were resold in other markets. It is true and this is a good example: in many cases people believe what they want to believe.
At the end of the story, both governments were playing a political chess with a swaying level of popularity in the two States. The United Kingdom won and Margaret Thatcher continued ruling for 10 years becoming the Iron Lady; Argentina was beaten and democratic elections were called the following year.
Could it be said that thanks to the fact that the United Kingdom won the war Argentina recover its democracy? Would the military government in Argentina have continued if they won the war? If so, would Margaret Thatcher have lost the elections? We shall leave these questions to the reader.
What is clear, at least for us, is that even after 2000 years of history the governments continue using the roman “bread and circus” and different societies accept it and live it with joy.
Moreover, almost 30 years after that episode the same phenomenon take place over and over again: every future President in campaign in Argentina promises the islands will be back (however there is no eco in the northern State as reality shows no developments have been made); and up north… nothing, simply nothing; the Britons remember little about a conflict three decades ago in a lost south sea.
Some still insist on selling the theory that the northerners pretend the archipelago because of the vast black treasure hidden beneath the sea. The truth is that there is no study regarding the veracity of this urban legend. And let suppose that in the best of all possible scenarios that a petroliferous mantle bigger than the ones in Middle East or Venezuela took place beneath the South Atlantic Ocean: Argentina does not posses the necessary means for its investigation, perforation and exploitation so the State would be obliged in any case to adjudicate the business to foreign entrepreneurs (the case of YPF).
This essay does not pretend in any way to support one or the other. We want to have a neutral vision of a mere political conflict between two governments over 30 years ago exploited until its ultimate consequences for three decades by one of them and whose starring actors, the people from Argentina and the United Kingdom, no participation have and the inhabitants of the islands have to tolerate.
Malvinas: un invento argentino? Una solución británica?
Allá por 1982 el Gobierno Militar argentino intentó recuperar las Islas Malvinas de manos de los británicos. La razón oficial: éstos las habían tomado de forma ilegitima tiempo atrás.
Dejando de lado la discusión histórica acerca de quienes fueron los primeros en llegar a las islas (españoles o británicos), quienes se asentaron en ellas, quienes las abandonaron, etc., solamente centraremos este ensayo en los motivos que llevaron al enfrentamiento de 1982 y sus consecuencias.
De un lado, Argentina con un Gobierno Militar presente desde 1976. Su popularidad en baja entre la población. En 1978 se intentó lograr mayor adhesión con la llegada del mundial de fútbol que al parecer logró en algunos el efecto de adormilar las conciencias. Mas los años pasaron, los secuestros, torturas y muertes continuaron y la situación económica empeoró. Estos elementos comenzaron por oxidar la maquinaria gubernamental y se necesitaba un nuevo golpe de efecto para lograr unidad y adhesión (a la manera de un programa de televisión que busca rating a manotazos desesperados).
Atacar un enemigo interno generaría más problemas y divisiones puesto que 6 años de enfrentamiento estaban minando la sociedad civil. Un enemigo foráneo común a todos era la mejor solución. Y si sumamos el hecho de la defensa nacional, del orgullo patrio (mejor, orgullo a secas) tomando como objeto algo que se publicitaba como robado, el resultado era claro.
Es similar al caso de una familia con varios hijos que crecen con la leyenda de la riqueza robada en la generación anterior por otra familia. Nadie pone en duda la veracidad de los dichos de los mayores. Y pese a los intereses personales de los hijos, llegada la oportunidad, éstos generalmente aunaran esfuerzos si son conducidos en una gesta por la defensa del apellido en pos de recuperar el orgullo de la casta.
Del otro lado del océano y arriba en el globo, Inglaterra con una Primer Ministro en franca impopularidad. Medidas que no habían hecho más que atacar a las clases media y baja, ciudades como Liverpool o Stoke on Trent afectadas por cierres masivos de fábricas dejando a hombres y mujeres de mediana edad en una franja de desempleo difícil de insertar en el mercado laboral por no contar con estudios suficientes, sólo técnicas aprendidas de generación en generación en las mismas fábricas que sus padres y abuelos lo hicieron. Los gremios desmembrados. El país endeudado.
A una sociedad en esta situación poco importaba el destino (de hecho menos recordaban la existencia) de peñascos en un mar del sur del fin del mundo. De hecho, el mismo gobierno británico estaba planeando devolver a largo plazo tan costosa empresa a los argentinos (y para esto poseen antecedentes como el de Hong Kong por lo que no sería extraño a sus relaciones internacionales).
Pero la suerte estaba echada. Con bombos y platillos, las islas fueron tomadas por las fuerzas argentinas. No entraré en el análisis o narración de los penosos hechos sobrevinientes ya que los jóvenes de ambas naciones estaban haciendo algo que fue más que cumplir con un deber, defender cada uno a su manera la patria. Resulta interesante a quien escribe subrayar ciertos acontecimientos que dan cuenta de la ingenuidad popular del momento: gente en el sur argentino disfrazándose de fantasmas cerca de la costa para ahuyentar al enemigo; colección de cartas con golosinas y demás para ser entregados a los jóvenes defensores del país que eran revendidas en otros mercados. Es cierto y este es un buen ejemplo, en muchos casos la gente cree lo que quiere creer.
A fin de cuentas, ambos gobiernos jugaban un ajedrez político en un tambaleante nivel de popularidad en los dos países. Venció el Reino Unido y Margaret Tatcher continuó 10 años más transformándose en la dama de hierro; Argentina resultó vencida y se debieron convocar elecciones democráticas el año siguiente.
Podría decirse que gracias a que el Reino Unido venció fue que Argentina recuperó la democracia? Hubiese el Gobierno Militar seguido en Argentina de haber ganado la guerra y Margaret Tatcher hubiera perdido las elecciones? Dejo estos interrogantes al lector.
Lo que queda claro, al menos para quien escribe, es que aun luego de 2000 años de historia los gobiernos siguen usando el “pan y circo romano” y sociedades distintas lo aceptan y festejan con beneplácito.
Incluso hoy, a 27 años de la gesta se da el mismo fenómeno: cada futuro presidente en campaña en Argentina promete las islas volverán (mas nunca se encuentra el eco real en el país del norte pues la realidad muestra que no hay gestiones); y arriba … nada, simplemente nada; el pueblo británico poco recuerda acerca de un conflicto bélico sucedido hace tres décadas en un mar perdido al sur.
Algunos incluso siguen intentando vender la teoría que los del norte pretenden el archipiélago por el cuantioso tesoro negro escondido debajo de las aguas. Lo cierto es que no existen estudios acerca de la veracidad de esta leyenda urbana. Y supongamos en el mejor de los casos que un manto petrolífero mayor que cualquiera de Medio Oriente o Venezuela yaciera en las aguas del Atlántico Sur: Argentina no cuenta con los medios para la investigación, perforación y explotación por lo que se vería obligada de todas maneras a adjudicar la plaza a capitales extranjeros (YPF, recuerdan?).
Este ensayo de ninguna manera pretende apoyar a unos o a otros. Se intenta una visión neutral de un conflicto meramente político entre dos gobiernos casi 30 años atrás explotado hasta el hartazgo por tres décadas por uno de ellos y cuyos actores principales, los pueblos argentino y británico, ninguna injerencia poseen y los pobladores de las islas se ven obligados a soportar.
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