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add a comment Wikipedia is changing its appearance. Help us find problems and complete the interface translations. His convalescence is long and he has a problem in his legs that would accompany him the rest of his life. In 1909, he joined the newspaper La Prensa, first as a drawer and then as a linotipist's assistant. In 1919 he created the newspaper La Razón, from where he supported university reform and workers' struggles. He traveled through Europe thanks to a scholarship that was given to him by the government of Leguía as a covert form of deportation. According to his analysis, the victory of fascism is the price that a country must pay for the contradictions of the left. On March 17, 1923, he returned to Lima. In 1924, due to an old injury, his leg had to be amputated and in 1926 he founded the magazine Amauta. He was placed in prison in 1927 during the trial against the Communists, but was then given house arrest. He dies on April 16, almost on the eve of his expected trip. The Conquest not only set fire to the history of Peru, but also burned the economy. Before the arrival of the Spaniards there existed an indigenous communist economy, which was quite solid. There was a material well-being thanks to the collectivist organization of the Inca society. This organization had enervated the individual impulse and at the same time had developed the habit of obedience to social duty. The Conquest thus established an economy of feudal character. They did not seek to develop a solid economy but only the exploitation of natural resources. That is to say, the Spaniards did not form as a colonizing force, but constituted themselves as a small court, a bureaucracy. This system ended up determining the republican economy. The economic policy of the Spanish Crown prevented the emergence of a bourgeoisie in the colonies. They saw the need for independence to ensure their development. Independence is then decided by the needs of capitalist development, in that sense, England played a key role in supporting the nascent American nations. For Mariátegui, the gamonal inevitably invalidates any law or ordinance protecting the indigenous or peasant. Against the authority of the landowner sustained by the environment and habit, the written law is impotent. The gamonal is a piece in the structure of centralized administration: it is the local leader of one of the nationally influential political parties and is the fundamental link in the chain of one of the many clienteles of the political system. The central power rewards the gamonal by allowing him to enjoy innumerable contracts and alcabalas and currently, by leaving in his hands the royalties produced by the exploitation of natural resources by the multinationals and innumerable contracts to complement them. Under these conditions, any decentralization ends with the essential result of an increase in the power of gamonalism. The guano and saltpeter played a fundamental role in the development of the Peruvian economy. This wealth was squandered by the Peruvian State. But it allowed the appearance of commercial and banking capital. It began to constitute a capitalist class, but whose origin was in the old Peruvian aristocracy. These products also allowed the consolidation of the power of the coast, since until then, the mining had configured the Peruvian economy a mountain character. In short, guano and nitrate allowed the transformation of the Peruvian economy from a feudal system to a capitalist system. The new nations sought to develop trade. Latin America sold its natural resources and bought manufactured products from Europe, generating a system that mainly benefited European nations. But this war also meant the paralysis of all national production and trade, as well as the loss of foreign credit. Power temporarily fell into the hands of the military, but the Lima bourgeoisie soon regained its function. The Grace Contract was raised as a measure to get out of the crisis. This contract consolidated the British predominance in Peru, by granting the railways concession for a period of 99 years. For his part, he showed how fascism was not an Italian "exception" or a "cataclysm", but an international phenomenon "possible within the logic of history", the development of monopolies in imperialism and its need to defeat the struggle of the proletariat. Mariátegui saw how the triumph of fascism was inevitably destined to exasperate the European and world crisis. The contemporary scene, Complete works, Vol. 7 essays of interpretation of the Peruvian reality, Complete works, Vol. The morning soul and other stations of the man of today, Complete works, Vol. Defense of Marxism, Complete works, Vol. Analysis of the Contemporary literary thought, Complete works, Vol. Conferences delivered in 1923. Ideology and politics, Complete works, Vol. Subjects of education, Complete works, Vol. Figures and aspects of world life. Volumes 1, 2 and 3 Complete works, Vol. In 7 essays 50 years in history. Lima: Amauta Library, 1987, pgs. In Mariátegui and the origins of Latin American Marxism. In The literary theory: romanticism, Krausism and modernism in the face of industrial globalization. Help us find problems and complete the interface translations. Sermon of barbarism: these papers; esdrújulo withdrawal: this skin. I want to write, but I feel puma; I want to praise me, but I enameled it. There is no spoken toz, that does not come to haze, there is no god or son of god, without development. I almost touched the part of my everything and I held back with a shot in the tongue behind my word. Today I feel my chin in retreat and in these momentary pants I tell myself: So much life and never! That it is true that I suffered in that hospital that is next door and it is good and it is bad to have looked down from my body. In 1923 he gave the press his first narrative work: Melographed scales, collection of prints and stories, some already avant-garde. That same year he left for Europe, never to return to his homeland. Until his death he lived mostly in Paris, with some brief stays in Madrid and other European cities where he was passing. He lived from journalism complemented with translation and teaching works. In this last stage of his life he did not publish books of poetry, although he wrote a series of poems that would be published posthumously. He published instead prose books: the proletarian or indigenist novel The Tungsten and the book of chronicles Russia in 1931. At that time he also wrote his most famous story, "Paco Yunque", which was published years after his death. The poetry gathered in these last poems is of a social nature, with sporadic, deeply human ideological positions. For many critics, the "human poems" constitute the best of his poetic production, which has earned him the qualification of "universal poet". César was the youngest of eleven brothers. His mestizo appearance was due to the fact that his grandmothers were Indians and their grandparents were Galician priests. His parents wanted to dedicate him to the priesthood, which he in his early childhood accepted very willingly; hence, there are so many biblical and liturgical references in his first verses. He gets a job as a tutor for the children of a wealthy landowner in Acobamba, where he stays for seven months. In 1913 he returned to Trujillo with the purpose of resuming his university studies in Literature. On September 22, 1915 he graduated with a bachelor's degree in Literature with his thesis Romanticism in Spanish poetry. Vallejo is the fourth of the seated, from left to right. In 1917 he meets "Mirtho", a fifteen-year-old girl with whom he has a passionate and short romance. Apparently, Vallejo tries to commit suicide because of the disappointment. He embarks in the Ucayali steamer, and arrives in Lima on December 30, 1917. Meet the most select of the Lima intelligentsia. He meets Clemente Palma, who had been a furious detractor of his poetic work, but who this time shows him respect. In 1918 he went to work at the Barrós de Lima school. When the director and founder of that school dies in September of that year, Vallejo obtains the position of director of the school. She becomes entangled in another stormy love affair, this time with Otilia Villanueva, a 15-year-old girl, sister-in-law of one of her colleagues. Due to this he loses his teaching position. Otilia will be the inspiration for several of her poems of "Trilce". That same year sees the light of his first collection of poems The Black Heralds, which still show the traces of modernism in its structure, although some very peculiar characteristics in the poetic language are already glimpsed. Relatively few copies circulated, but the book was generally well received by critics. His mother had died in 1918. The family nostalgia pushes him, in May of 1920, to return to Santiago de Chuco. He hides but is discovered, imprisoned and thrown in a dungeon in Trujillo where he will remain for 112 days. After leaving on conditional freedom, he returns to Lima, where his story "Beyond life and death" was awarded in a literary contest. The amount of the prize is used to finance other literary publications. Trilce anticipated much of the avant-garde that would develop in the 1920s and '30s. In this book Vallejo takes the Spanish language to unsuspected limits: he invents words, forces syntax, uses automatic writing and other techniques used by the "dada" and "surrealist" movements. He is admitted again as a teacher at the Guadalupe School, a post in which he will not last long, after being declared unemployed. Weary of local mediocrity, he had his sights set on the Old World. Travel on the Oroya steamer on June 17, 1923, with a coin of five hundred soles. His income - always insufficient - came from journalism, although he also worked as a translator. His first two years in Paris were very economic, to the point that he often had to sleep outside. At the beginning of 1924 he receives the news of the death of his father. In October he is hospitalized in a public charity hospital, as a result of an intestinal hemorrhage. He was operated and could be restored. He also begins to collaborate for the Lima magazine Mundial. That year the Spanish government granted him a modest scholarship so that he could continue his law studies in Spain. In the following two years he will periodically and briefly visit Madrid in order to collect the amount of the scholarship for a fixed term, although he will not study; in October of 1927 he will renounce said scholarship. He never got a doctorate in Letters or Law. Both publications had ephemeral life. Start sending collaborations for the Lima magazine Variedades. Deepen your studies on Marxism. In April 1928, she became seriously ill again, but recovered within a few months. Henriette was still with him. He begins to be more interested in political-social issues. That same year he made his first trip to Russia. In 1929 he began to live with Georgette and together with her made a second trip to Russia. The reason for this lack of literary creations was because he was more absorbed in producing articles and chronicles for newspapers and magazines. Returns to Paris but soon after is expelled, accused of making communist propaganda. Together with Georgette he returns to Madrid. He also published his proletarian novel The Tungsten, and his book of chronicles and essays Russia in 1931, a work that became a best seller, having three editions in only four months. They deny him, however, the publication of his story "Paco Yunque", for being a story "very sad". The main reason: for being works of character markedly Marxist and revolutionary. By this time also begins to write a series of poems that posthumously would be compiled and published with the title of human Poems. In 1932 he decided to return to Paris, when the previous entry restriction was lifted. That year Georgette is hospitalized for an illness caused by the continuous induced abortions; but he recovers. During this time he wanders through Parisian hotels and pensions in the midst of great economic anguish. César Vallejo in Nice, in 1929. In 1934 he marries civilly with Georgette. They also reject another book of essays that he wanted to give to the press: Against professional secrecy. Pablo Neruda accompanies him in this work. On March 24, he is hospitalized for an unknown illness and enters into a crisis on April 7 and 8. He dies on April 15, '38, on a Good Friday with a drizzle in Paris, but not on a Thursday, as he is believed to have predicted in his poem. He is embalmed. His funeral eulogy was in charge of the French poet Louis Aragon. It should also mention his copious journalistic work. Cover of the prince edition of The Black Heralds. It is commonly accepted that the lyric is where Vallejo reaches its true expression and its highest levels. It consists of three stages: Modernist stage. It constitutes the beginning of the poet's search for an expressive differentiation, which will be consolidated throughout his work. For Vallejo it was necessary to found a poetic language different from the traditional one. According to Mariátegui "in these verses the Peruvian poetry begins, in the indigenist sense". Indeed, the poet speaks of the native. There are the profound experiences of daily events, family and village life, the tender and eglological landscape, but still expressed with the modernist taste and the metrical and strophic forms of classical poetry. The first poem in the series gives title to the book and refers to the moments when death, or the simple passage of time, give us an anguished, shaken signal. It includes the poetry collection Trilce, one of the greatest poetry books of the post-war vanguard worldwide. The poems are born in a very special context for the poet. These experiences forged in him that feeling of being a prisoner of existence or of society and were the origin of the tear of the poet, of the infinite pain that each poem contains, and of its density and hermeticism. The name of the poems is a neologism invented by Vallejo, whose meaning so far is uncertain. According to the most widespread version, it would derive from "three", since the change of the name of the book was quoted by the printer in three pounds. At the moment of appearing he fell into the greatest void, for people were still accustomed to romantic and modernist verses. I take full responsibility for their aesthetics. Today more than ever perhaps, I feel gravitate on me, a hitherto unknown sacred obligation, of man and artist. If I do not have to be free today, I will never be free. I feel that the bow of my forehead wins its most imperative force of heroism. I give myself in the freest way I can and this is my best artistic harvest. " Trilce meant the creation of a very personal language, which in itself implied a huge feat. It was a break with the tendency of the literary past and with respect to traditional expressive norms. It is enough for him not to leave the basic privileges of the language. The poet can even change, in a certain way, the literal and phonetic structure of the same word according to the cases. " It goes through all the levels of the language. It has high degrees of ungrammaticality. Violent graphic representation of words. The ambiguity of this statement has led various critics and editors to consider this imposition arbitrary. Other editors have not agreed with this division and have preferred to keep in one body all the posthumous poems of Vallejo, with the exception of Spain, apart from me this chalice. Although these poems deal with some recurrent themes of the author, they show clear differences with respect to his previous poetic work. In this new phase of his poetics his language is thus more accessible to the common reader. The poet sought precisely to get closer to the people. It is considered that one of the factors that most influenced this change of direction of his poetry was his adherence to Marxism, a thought that coincided with some of the concerns that had accompanied him throughout his life. Although the reiterative note in these poems continues to be the poet's dissatisfaction with life and the persistent pain of living; however, this time brings a note of hope. She would be rooted in her faith in the unity of all men. In human poems, the poet abandons himself with seriousness or pathos exacerbated to human pain and forces us to think of the anguish and hopes of all those who, with an empty stomach, do not even have a stone to sit on. The work is full of parallels and oppositions. Use the language of everyday conversation, so it seems that the poetic self talks to a friend or a worker. There are strong exclamations in the linguistic structure, he wants to dramatize his poetry. It presents an essential humanism, social and revolutionary literature. The vision of Spain combatant had moved Vallejo, so his poetics was at the service of the cause. It consists of 15 poems and is considered the poetic testament of Vallejo. In the poem that gives name to the poems, a premonitory proof of his love for Spain and his fear for the defeat of what he considered the just cause is manifested. Vallejo's narrative also shows his ideological progression. Scales melografiadas is a book that groups twelve stories, divided into two sections: six lyric-narrative pictures and six stories or psychopathological stories. Some of them are of a surprising avant-garde, little cultivated then. Fabla salvaje is a psychological novel that deals with the madness of a peasant from the Andes. Towards the kingdom of the Sciris is a historical nouvelle of Inca theme, still linked to modernism. Around 1930, influenced by Marxism, he began to write stories more imbued with social problems and circumscribed in the so-called "socialist realism". Tungsten is an unequal novel about a conflict in a mine in the Andes. Published in Spain, it was very popular in the 1930s, that of the world economic depression. Finally it was published in 1951. This drama deals with the conflict of a husband with his mother-in-law and it is supposed that the author destroyed the original. It is about a labor conflict in a metallurgical factory. Between the two banks runs the river, a drama that was the product of a long and difficult process. Colacho Brothers or presidents of America. A satire that exposes Peruvian democracy as a bourgeois farce under diplomatic pressure and transnational corporations. The tired stone, drama of poetic tone set in the Inca period and influenced by Greek tragedies. Vallejo published a book of chronicles entitled Russia in 1931. Reflections at the foot of the Kremlin and prepared for the presses another similar title entitled Russia before the second five-year plan. No publisher in Spain wanted to publish these books because of their Marxist and revolutionary character. Retrieved on April 23, 2009. Retrieved on April 23, 2009. Originally published in Cuadernos Hispanoamericanos. 1822 - 1933, Eighth Edition, corrected and enlarged. Mariátegui, José Carlos: 7 essays on the interpretation of Peruvian reality. In: "The process of literature". Literary biography aimed at children. The literary vanguards in Latin America. Manifestos, proclamations and other writings. Born into a family of writers and artists. In 1949, the spouses leave for France. In 1954, they traveled to Florence, to return to Peru a year later. He has also collaborated in numerous magazines from Peru and abroad. Blanca Varela is a poet who does not take pleasure in her findings or get drunk with her singing. With the instinct of the true poet he knows how to shut up in time. His poetry does not explain or reason. And, also, an exploration of one's conscience. In her first poems, too proud to speak in her own name, the poet's self is a masculine, abstract self. As she goes inside herself-and, also, as she penetrates the outside world-the woman reveals herself and takes over her being. Contained but explosive poetry, poetry of rebellion: "The numbers burn. Each number has a plume of smoke, each number shrieks like a poisoned rat... ". And in another passage: "The town is happy because it has been promised that the day will last 25 hours. Help us find problems and complete the interface translations. Unlike other writers, Blanca Varela was not used to giving interviews and her appearances in public are rather scarce and discreet. He died on March 12, 2009 in Lima, at the age of 82. 1959 Daylight 1963 Waltzes and other false confessions. This is his anthology from 1949 to 1988. Where everything ends opens the wings. He started a new behind, which did not end, which began with the novel La danza inmóvil. A mysterious printer puts the word sadness on the front page of all newspapers. Oh, one day walking we understand that we are in a prison of walls that move away... And it is impossible to return. I answer: everywhere we heard crying, everywhere we were surrounded by a wall of black waves. Was poetry going to be a lonely column of dew? It had to be a perpetual lightning. Let's kill sadness with a stick. There are higher things than crying the love of lost afternoons: the rumor of a people that wakes up, that is more beautiful than the dew. The shining metal of his anger, that's more beautiful than the moon. A truly free man, that is more beautiful than the diamond. Like a shy door, for you to enter, my heart opens up. But you do not come, you do not fly any more over the fields. You pass by long, as if the wind blows only there. The morning passes and the afternoon does not come. And my heart closes, like a hand with no one, my heart closes. You were afraid that the wind would disrupt your heart of ash. Grandfather: life seemed like a pit of bad dreams. When you thought of your grandmother, you would be burned by a fire without light. And John the blacksmith, and Peter the sower, also believed that life is a confused dream. When Liberty opens its wings on my desperate country, I will return. I will return with all the grandchildren of the world in the spring, and grandmother and Maria and Paloma, every day we will come to water the plot of dawn that will touch us. We were going to die any death together. I do not know if you know what you want to say goodbye. Goodbye means never to look at yourself again, to live among other people laugh at other things, to die of other sorrows. Different stars shine on different nights. The rain that wet you leaves me dry. Against the wind the poet can not. When the good-byes leave, the poet can only ask the swallows to fly without Caesar about your dream. Help us find problems and complete the interface translations. The hermeticism and the disturbing quality of his vision contributed to turning him into a legend in the intellectual milieu of Lima, but, unfortunately, not to spread his poetry. His first books are influenced by the spirit of the avant-garde and show an unusual talent and culture for the few years of its author. His short novel of children's literature, La casa de cartón, is a small masterpiece of irony, refinement of observation and verbal invention. It is the poetry of a soul submerged in deep questioning of God, man and the relationship of the world with them; Calling him a metaphysical poet, it might be appropriate to not fit well on any of the usual letterheads of his time. I wrote on napkins or pieces of paper with a calligraphy trembling The protection of a few friends saved part of this heterogeneous and sometimes incoherent material. Journal of poet records a painful and torn monologue in the proximity of death. His lyric has been compiled in Poetic Work. From the baroque in Peru, his university thesis presented in 1938 is an unusual example of neo-Gongorian prose. It is considered, in addition, as one of the great representatives of Latin American avant-garde literature. As time passed, he lived with increasing economic hardship and suffering from a strong alcoholism. Much of his last years were spent in sanatoriums, until his death in 1985. Allen Ginsberg was interested in his work and in his person. It was one of the best works of the Peruvian narrative of that time and noted for its evocation of the spa of Barranco, with a plot just outlined, which takes place through pictures of the experiences and reflections of a young man. Because of its thematic and innovative narrative structure, this novel can be considered a precursor of the Latin American Boom. The rest of his work is formed by his poetry. He mixed in his poems a novel use of language with the cultivation of traditional poetic forms such as the sonnet. The theme of reality and identity is also common in his poetry. With his poetic work he intended to achieve a total creation and affirm the divine and omnipotent power of the poet by creating realities. Leave aside all your bohemia or turn it in full in what you write me and... tell me about yourself. Member of the Peruvian Academy. Awards: National Literature. Despair is a beach, know it, recondite, high stone. Despair is with you Like your skin or the honey of the bee. Despair is a sky OR a female or a stone or a ivy. Despair has no other limit than your blind invocation. Among rock waves, I arrived, Dead and alive, with grass shroud. His hermetic verses, full of symbols, conjugate a daring use of the language with traditional poetic forms. The issues of reality and identity are frequent. He wanted to reach absolute poetry and create realities that underlined the role of creator of the poet. I only know of my step, Of my weight, Of my sadness and of my shoe. for that they are the dream and the word. I am my what, ineffable and innumerable Figure and soul of anger. No, that was the end... and it was at the beginning, Before where the beginning begins. I am a body of spirit of fury Seated and of straight irony. I'm not the one who seeks The poem, not even life... put an animal harassed by its being That is a truth and a lie. This is my full day, Until the last afternoon. The Other, the Neighbor, is a ghost. And I did not reach the fury of the divine, nor the sympathy of the human. I am and I do not feel it nor do I feel that way. It's on every wall of the City, accomplice, disguising itself. I throw myself or I dare, without ceasing I am my.impedimento and my create myself. If it were not, nothing would be real, the same. Everything was yesterday, but I live; And sometimes I believe, and La Vez breastfeeds me. Because there is no body that supports so much unknown light. To what extent today, u today at night, we are able to relativize a memory. Of panic, of fruition, or of happiness. I suspect, however, that I was not very capable of thinking. Thinking is forget differences, is generalize, to abstract. In the crowded world of Funes there were only details, almost immediate. "3 It is still a complete surprise for me to suffer from a mental illness such as paramnesia or par excellence, to remember everything. This has led me to try to understand this phenomenon of experience assumed through the reality that I have found, in constant struggle, with the reality in which I have arrived. Which by nature, unanimous or random, porto. The direct contact of my body with the other bodies. This is called concrete experience. But what about the unreal, abstract, mental experience, the precise key and symbolic translation. I think that through this capacity of experience you can live much more. Also, it is known that all bodily function is channeled cerebrally. And it is not the fact that a work is translated in infinite ways, but that we can perceive through any of the two forms of experience, experiences and unique memories. That at the most we can expose as reality or unreality by consensus. By similarity or by similarities in our experiences. This quality of apprehending reality or unreality as a concrete experience, real, is what particularizes all the work of Martín Adán. Not evolve or improve, but only change to be the other unexpected or to be the only one. What better than to seduce the woman, her own, the unfolded, that the muse is still a woman. All revelation is the moment of origin rescued. Just as all 'true' originality is rejected. Because there is no fullness in accepted genius. Love: analogy of opposites. That he is never aware of his own promiscuous and segmented circular unreality. Because the similar painting of the house is an interpreted thing. And as beauty is not perennial in time. The one that dies is the pampered rose. The delicious and beautiful Peruvian mestizo woman. Propincuo to a cranial deformation by nobility or by caprice. It gives exactly the same if it succeeds. Proving that the limits of symbolism are, precisely, no limits. Find the demon-possessed angel who lives under your roof. Transculturation of the New World. A strange balance of light and cross. before the disappearance of César, his brother, who made him humanly sprout in a poem, he revived14. The one that complicates today, the select one, the one that clarifies tomorrow, the limpid one. The one that migrates but that is always ubiquitous and iniquitous. There is no living being more cerebrally dissatisfied and restless than man. And beauty is definitely a kinetic test of limits and limitations. The beauty that abounds becomes unknown. And the beauty that is absent is like a monism, metamorphosed, that is constantly remembered. You have to see the two-headed monster or the Hydra, or the way to attack that the transnationals make with the advertisements and games or changes they make in their icons or logos. But today one of the many surprising features of these cultures is definitely their great beauty, their resource and ability to be art and even in constant connection with contemporary art. I prevent that here I am not distorting the possible reality but on the contrary, I am opening myself to a superior culture. I do not seek to awaken learned phobias. What I want is to awaken minds. As possible as the enormous mental rose of Martín Adán. Come to admire symbols, to interpret glances, to read tragic stories. The one of the mind, the one of the death, the one of chance or life that is the death. Hellish proverbs: "In times of sowing he learns, in the harvest he teaches and in the winter he enjoys. I have saved myself the sin of wishing it were mine. I'm almost a virtuous man, almost a mystic. I like the colors of the sky because it is sure that they are not German tints. I like to walk the streets something dog, something machine, almost nothing man. I am not very convinced of my humanity; I do not want to be like the others. I do not want to be happy with the permission of the police. Now there is a little sun in the streets.25 Similar to a previous experiment, we will say that poetry is like poetry. And that's why I've tried to enkindle myself in it. All blessed poetry is homicidal. Because there is no body that supports so much unknown light. The poetry that I leave you is the old rag of divine light when it contradicts or annoys the beginning of life. 9 From Sonnets to the Rose, Lima, 1941. In the article, Not everything will die: The poets know that we can already know eternity. 11The exact words of the poet of the Generation of '27 are: «The highest love poet in Spanish literature. I say the highest and not the most fertile, or the most varied or the most brilliantly vital. Yes, I know that this is not usually said. It would suffice the famous sonnet of the shocking final dust will be, but dust in love, to prove it ». 12 Transcendental painter from Arequipa. I read to you: Life is beginning, the world is beginning; The game is already beginning. Cuadernos de Cocodrilo, Lima, 1939. 18 From the Periódico de poesía: Odumodneurtse. 20 From Sonnets to the Rose, Lima, 1941. In the literature magazine, Casa de citas. 26 Both poems have been extracted from Poetic Work. Currently, he directs the poetry magazine Transparencia. There will be no ray that destroys the spike of my singing or mountain that stops the river of my passion. Granite of my love - heart seed when you will give your harvest when your first flower. My Camucha, so stubborn, wants to flee with another one by slaying my love. If now he denies loving me why he did not deny him that night in the grass. He drinks his own aroma and gets drunk. Do not get caught, doctor, in telling me even if they were mortal. He loves you as I do with infinite eyes and as I would also like to strip you of autumn. The most recent reached popular reach with a circulation of forty thousand copies of the newspaper Página Libre. Graduated as a bachelor in education, he moves to work in Cerro de Pasco and it is there, watching closely the poverty of the miners, who begins his intense political life that leads him to know the prison and exile. Freedom was shaped in the embryo that brought you, took you, formed you. Your word has no price, it has no bribe, it has no silence. I touched your birth when I met you. The dawn of your thought was impregnated as the cry of a newborn, testing its first resistances in an unknown world. And of your being what I can mention, perhaps, that they are all races that do not allow themselves to bend, not even by the dream when it disappears before our own eyes. To be in your poetry, is to meet with the human reality, is to dig in the tombs and give name to what you do not have. It is to be in your words, it is to sob along with the dead who are at the side of their bodies scattered in a meaningless story. Because when suffering is imposed, it is war to the birth, it is massacre to the beautiful. It is total servitude and rogue. The memory of life and its adventure never ceases. The one who orders him to close his mouth is already a coward or an informer and traitor of his own paradise. Each one brings with him a beginning, a human Eden that begins where the other designates how everything began. Curiosity begins, ignorance of God. Love seems a leafy tree waiting to embrace the shadows of lovers who promise to eternity not to forget, not to be extinct, to be nothing. Not be the corpse of the earth. Here death does not fit, it is so distant, impossible, so spaceless in the almost perfect union of a you and a me. Only the feeling has its weight, its shape, its symbol. The experience based on desires that do not wear out, those that leave a trace without logical definition, that which humanizes us. That ties us with the filial link of time, which turns us with an exact day to arrive and depart. Rotate on the steps with the compass placed on the map where the horizon is planted, where "it is based on immortal planes", where "love is the force that sets pillars of dawn". It is to give that one the homage and recognition of the significant for the universe of my world in the inevitable reality where day to day is made. Above the man to the pentagram of his present. The punctual garúa of the memories skin the nocturnal silhouette that rises in the nostalgia of "a punctual dreamer" that lets hear its voice in the enclosure of "the perfect illusion". Aspiring to meet the beloved who never left his gaze, more departed. It seems that this is the job that nobody can replace. Individual task that to get rid of life or death? They can put an end to the desire that oscillates between the early, the punctual and the unpunctual. He has never been alone, nothing of the beloved was lost, it faded with shadow and life. The absence was pursued and followed until she "has come to see me". The unexpected melancholy dances within the amphora that emerges as a beloved and fearful little thing. carmen váscones 21 272003 -------- "The worst slavery is freedom without a rudder". His rebellious nature shows him as a committed writer and as the last champion of healthy Peruvian politics. Your beloved shadow is the one that produces fruits and invites the birds of all yearnings to come to dinner. In the creative process of the great writers, corrections and changes are discovered mainly in the contexts of poetry. This scriptural change that responds to age periods was also Darío's experiment, although he only wanted to go from the difficult to the simple. It is not true, I reconsider, that you have been absent from the pores of antara forever. Breathe and breathe in my blood an agile hope. It is to her that I reach the saudades that I procreate. It is not true, I reconsider, that you have absent yourself by expatriating atoms. Puffs and snorts the hope coming from your cheekbones and this is how I reach the saudades that I procreate. It is not true, I think, that you have absent expatriate atoms and genomes. Blows and snorts the hope of kissing your cheekbones, and that's how the saudades I procreate reach you. In this fragment of two stanzas chosen at random, we notice that it has been modified from the title of the poem to its architecture, without this meaning substantive change because the verbal expertise maintains the stylistics in the soliloquy. The writer transforms all his verses and still reconsiders the strophic structure: suppresses, substitutes and adds in search of greater precision. And this being so, we already have a direct, loose, colloquial and peculiar style in lyrical singing. Present the social fighters weapons. Present agrarian and students weapons! Genaro Ledesma Izquieta has taken seriously his destiny as a writer and has lost his fear since he was little. He is one of the most illustrious representatives of the parnassian and Latin American parnassus. Freedom was shaped in the embryo that brought you, took you, formed you. Your word has no price, it has no bribe, it has no silence. I touched your birth when I met you. The dawn of your thought was impregnated as the cry of a newborn, testing its first resistances in an unknown world. And of your being what I can mention, perhaps, that they are all races that do not allow themselves to bend, not even by the dream when it disappears before our own eyes. To be in your poetry, is to meet with the human reality, is to dig in the tombs and give name to what you do not have. It is to be in your words, it is to sob along with the dead who are at the side of their bodies scattered in a meaningless story. Because when suffering is imposed, it is war to the birth, it is massacre to the beautiful. It is total servitude and rogue. The memory of life and its adventure never ceases. The one who orders him to close his mouth is already a coward or an informer and traitor of his own paradise. Each one brings with him a beginning, a human Eden that begins where the other designates how everything began. Curiosity begins, ignorance of God. Love seems a leafy tree waiting to embrace the shadows of lovers who promise to eternity not to forget, not to be extinct, to be nothing. Not be the corpse of the earth. Here death does not fit, it is so distant, impossible, so spaceless in the almost perfect union of a you and a me. Only the feeling has its weight, its shape, its symbol. The experience based on desires that do not wear out, those that leave a trace without logical definition, that which humanizes us. That ties us with the filial link of time, which turns us with an exact day to arrive and depart. Rotate on the steps with the compass placed on the map where the horizon is planted, where "it is supported on immortal planes", where "love is the force that puts pillars of dawn". It is to give that one the homage and recognition of the significant for the universe of my world in the inevitable reality where day to day is made. Above the man to the pentagram of his present. The punctual garúa of the memories skin the nocturnal silhouette that rises in the nostalgia of "a punctual dreamer" that lets hear its voice in the enclosure of "the perfect illusion". Aspiring to meet the beloved who never left his gaze, more departed. It seems that this is the job that nobody can replace. Individual task that to get rid of life or death? They can put an end to the desire that oscillates between the early, the punctual and the unpunctual. He has never been alone, nothing of the beloved was lost, he disappeared with shadow and life. The absence was pursued and followed until she "has come to see me". The unexpected melancholy dances within the amphora that emerges as a beloved and fearful little thing. Certainly, we are flesh and blood born of love. Fridge aside, I bake in my own fire I am a woodcutter. Those who are and not at the crossroads of breath and silence. Clean water, water gets dirty. Bebe says, so that your life does not dry up. You have to read this brave book. Humanizing sower, floods with his fertility the thoughts of the earth sprouting in the "origin of time". His and her: timeless gamete of the insurgent sting that navigates in the blood and in the sense of lovers. Justified war, is the opposite of the lover's lawsuit without planned attacks. When it comes to threats, attacks and warnings, we are talking about entries to irreparable acts that threaten and detonate in entire towns and even in future generations. The poet troubadour justice denounces the horror that grows like fire and plague. Love and war are extremes of the genesis of civilization and of all times. Both are capable of devastating and causing buildings on the ruins. In love two are chosen, more in the war the provocation to the other brings its trap and disadvantage. The death of the stories pulls the root of the genealogy. Loneliness along with orphanage wander between losses and devoured childhoods. Let's see what happens to the lover of life that offers his destiny. It seems that the epicenter and the axis of movement as a reference is the female body as a metaphor for the world. An all-embracing woman of dreams of pregnancy, pregnancy of myths and legends. Incarnated and emaciated nature of pain, verses, and delights. He leaves his mark, his wound, his mark, his gate of flesh and words free from the dungeon of time and space. Although the beloved appears as a captive hero or defeated by nonexistent victories, she is the decisive face of beginnings and endings. It is the beloved who remembers returns and games. Mother and death within a woman where the world begins and the universe of grace and misfortune. Divine lair, olympus of trenches, altar shelters, cultivated field. Split the search of the pilgrim. It digs its end in the memory of the seed that lies in the belly of the moon, conceals its pregnancy with modesty and prevention, it moves away from the ruthless hands of the insensitive guardian who lost his soul when the mother word left him without any explanation. The poet is about to break the shell, to pierce it with verses, to give back some feeling that lies hostage in the cloudy childhood of the warble. The poet is to bring the feminine that breastfeeds and plays with their bipedal forms. Victory is a tie or tie-break. It is a triumph, a truce, an armistice. It is also a tomb of memories and utensils with bodies that loved each other and left their signs and inscriptions on the earth, in the wind. In children who will live their own. Born to live always in honor of the truth "The violence between love and war is the worst human disagreement. It is the hunger of the beloved and the beloved in the uninterested incompatible of the unjust and voracious monopoly of existence. The history of loves and desamors are not the same as those of weapons, although both have male and female roots. The poet lives an indomitable "poetry in action", which knows the secrets of life and death, which is capable of creating its own and unique commandment: "You never overthrow the brother of man". And do not load anything or anyone. They let open the bars of memory, scratch the bricks of memory. What will that be of I am in everyone? The guardian of life, lets arrive at their pesamientos. His ninety and peaks of years testify to a man who does not give up or boast of anything. His gypsy father and his dark mother resgistered him in the act of love, faith and passion. She knew that the letters were in her hands. The gypsy in love with the beautiful. Death took him when leoncio hardly uttered his first words of "love of life". The image of the child running within reach of the hug that does not arrive. Life went on without drenching him with curses. And he is respected as the man who has managed to be and leave what he could alone and with others who are no longer. The youth respects this man who still works with the truth to costs. The creation alleviates the anguish with finitude. It is a century in which movement and speed become a substantial part of our lives, where the rhythm of the production of goods increases qualitatively, and all those forms of consumption change the life, the customs and the character of people. Under the regime of feudal economy born of the Conquest, some living remnants of the indigenous communist economy still exist in the sierra. He also criticized the principle of free competition and later communism. Elected member of the National Convention, I try to establish a social reform for workers through mutualism. Later, as a practical agitator and a revolutionary, he will continue to influence the labor and trade union movement and will found different revolutionary anarchist cells, especially around the Mediterranean Sea. 3.- Political evolution of a revolutionary poet. Here the working day was twelve hours, and more, and no one had the right to protest, and dreams about trade union rights were unrealistic for young people. " Also remember, as once to that hacienda came some anarcho-syndicalist leaders to organize the first union cells and train and shake them to conquer the eight-hour day. An important advance of this Group was its permanent contact with other Peruvian poets, already consecrated by critics and also belonging to other social strata, who were invited for readings or for conversations. Another important aspect of this group is the intellectual literary production, either as magazines, such as "Singing and Singing" or in the creations of personal works. 5.- About the object of poetic work in proletarian poetry a) The object of literary works will be directed against the "semi-feudal" and capitalist relations of exploitation of social wealth. The object-literary subject, receives new names, mutates in the form and becomes varied. And this already mutated literary object-subject receives or reproduces itself in other expressions and in new twists and words. These books give us an x-ray of what is Peru in one of its edges, and drives the aspirations of the classes that produce wealth. Also from the hands of this mechanic-artificer and self-taught, verses made symphonies form canvases vertically or horizontally according to their emotions. 2) Proletarian literature, even from its embryonic state, already assumes a social responsibility towards Peruvian society. Its content is not courting the taste of the landlords and the bourgeoisie, but questioning property, to the relations of exploitation and wage slavery and tries to put before these realities, another world of justice and emancipation. This literature has a roots and is parallel in the tradition of the Andean culture and has many common things that resemble it with indigenist literature. Moreover, the affluent classes have always opposed not integrating it into books for teaching in Peruvian schools or colleges. 7) Neopositivist, metaphysical or functional or scientistic analysis method, is still the most usual for the analysis of literature. These reductionist and anti-historical methods operate more on the forms than on the content. The nature of these analyzes still dislocates the Peruvian reality as a whole within the process to integrate the own, the alien and the diverse, and for that reason, only presents this reality in a partial or reduced form. Within the framework of these representations arrived from so far away, he was given the medals that identify him as such. A minute of applause from the great Assembly standing up, corroborated his adhesion. The laureate collected the medals, with a gold medal, on behalf of his family, his wife and children and the Directory that accompanies him for so many years. The generosity of the grantors overwhelms me, he said, and I confirm that dedicating oneself to cultural promotion is like throwing a handful of petals into a deep well and waiting for it to sound. After more than 25 years, this sound ignites my heart and overflows my hopes for a better world, "said Vargas Rodríguez, moved. The cultural event of the year was called to this act, for being an old Peruvian cultural promoter, so obviated by the official promotion. In the end we will include beautiful accessions of cultural institutions of the world. 4- Commentator of literature in newspapers and magazines. 6- Editor with 81 published books - Author of 24 anthologies and national, regional and international selections. Attached editorial description. 8- Cultural journalist in the newspaper "El Callao". In this last 2002, 16 nations from all over the world attended. Intergovernmental Entity, with the right to a bag and diplomatic passport. Ayacucho, 2002, and delivered in academic act in December 2005, in Huamanga. National with 90 years, for the Enc. International and national anthology for the Enc. International in Ica, 1996, Lima. Anthology with 57 Lambayecan poets, Lima, 1996. Mini selection with six national poetesses, Lima, 1996. Chile-Peru bi-national anthology. International Anthology of the Enc. Summary of a poetic cycle with 112 vates occurred in Lima. Lima 1998 * 12-Like Angels that sing from within. Sample of poets from Córdoba, Argentina, 1999. Anthology of 44 contemporary chalacos poets, Lima 1998. International and national anthology with 145 poets, Lima 1999. Anthology with 35 contemporary ayacuchan vates, Lima 2000. 2001 * 17-The Women that I love. Sample with eleven contemporary Ecuadorian poetesses, Lima 2002. Anthology with 141 vates of the world, on the occasion of the V Enc. 85 Peruvian vates.2003; 419 pp. 22 Poets from Jalisco, Guadalajara. In co-authorship with the Mexican Emma Rueda. The poet feels the flame that remains imperfect and unapproachable in some way. The nostalgia of the ash mixed with the water covers the sky with sleeplessness. It seeks to find what remains stuck in the memory. The chimera doubt in front of the pride that lies fragile and invulnerable in front of the uninhabited that was believed for always. The sting of the hemlock hurts on the skin of the beloved who tastes the bitterness of the same pleasure but without return. The words give other readings. The same writing however different. Who is the love that attacks the emptiness and calms the loneliness for a moment. Cry and interrogate poetry to the inhabitants of the world. The poet redeems himself and responds. She is a treadmill and it is memory "How? As pain was a status quo in the fall. There the Gravity is proof of endurance as an alpinist hanging in the abyss. Who endures the hangover and submerges letting himself feel in otherness. It seems that the voice of the poet leaves us with the concern that love does not have to remain in "perpetual glaciers", nor overflow in "premature thaws". The extremes lead to catastrophe How to make a balance? Sometimes disasters between two are inevitable, no one likes to be buried in the avalanche of oblivion and contempt. And is not love all that and something else? Already the cry warns the tightrope where the poem tenses another side. Who recycles love recycles death and resists life as an ally. It also borders the dawn of the bodies that fenecen the pleasure without fear to be with barbed wires; and this is another provocation where birth is excluded from the origin. Germination has no chance because the battle mutilates the corners of the word spun in the childhood of the earth. The light chiseled the way as mountaineer doing maroon to always the same boredom. The poet chooses the pendulum movement of his imagination, pluralizes it in the trickle of memories. The refuge is a path of dreams. The light encandelilla and blinded, to avoid burning the cornea must look elsewhere to rest the prism that distills its multicolored dew. The breastplate with its human and bestial footprint. Place without substitute "where the word can fit with all its consonants". From 1976 to 1989, studies of the German language, philosophy and candidacy to obtain the title of doctor of philosophy in Leipzig and Berlin. Translations of poetry by the German poet Elisabeht Hackel, pages. And the secret of the poet is in uttering what was hidden, which belonged to the region of the not yet expressed. Who knows, maybe this book will help us see, how far can the interest in demonstrating the hidden face of the moon. " I feel the same as the restlessness that the brave sea produces as the affirmation of life that is rooted in the dreams and desires of the poet. This inspires me to investigate outside the comfort of everyday life. From that navigation by the sea of the word arises his poetry "..." This is the poetry for the author: a scene in whose window the reader appears, in which "monologues of the body are written with absence". There is not in his life the culture of escapism of contemporary society, always with his face in the sun to avoid looking at the shadows... Poet of nostalgia hermetism. And the secret of the poet is in uttering what was hidden, which belonged to the region of the not yet expressed. Who knows, maybe this book will help us see, how far can the interest in demonstrating the hidden face of the moon. " I feel the same as the restlessness that the brave sea produces as the affirmation of life that is rooted in the dreams and desires of the poet. This inspires me to investigate outside the comfort of everyday life. From that navigation by the sea of the word arises his poetry "..." This is the poetry for the author: a scene in whose window the reader appears, in which "monologues of the body are written with absence". There is not in his life the culture of escapism of contemporary society, always with his face in the sun to avoid looking at the shadows... Poet of nostalgia hermetism. Carmen Váscones and Ecuadorian writers think. In my work of compiling criteria I integrate with another recognizing myself in the labyrinth of verse allied to the truth that struggles in its avatar to exist and unmask the lie. The verse tries to be non-corruptible, but what corrodes human thoughts and acts so as not to give up and give false words, empty and lost from the poetic act? and it scares me to think of so many other losses that are part of it. Well, it's possible, too. A group of readers-writers that somehow we met and started the walk, the one of running between words. Actually it gladdens my heart to know that the letters are expanding, I always knew that there is that other world, in front of ours which we look at differently. The inevitable talks and coffee are always a good omen, which is never despicable. The rest is already printed, and although we dance with the ugliest, we always have poetry left. Since this generation does not protect in parricide because it has no parents. It is also a generation recovered from the clichés that revolutionary writers had and that they kept until well into the 80s. There is an oxygenation of abstract and painful thought of the "black" West of dictatorships. It is a poetics more committed to language than to men and women of the world. A poetry that is consistent with the world that witnesses and witnesses, but that is subversive in politics. Remember Paz: tradition is the rupture. The poetry of the tenth century has been filled with elements and tools is to adopt a discourse of its own. It is opposed to a purist discourse; and the dispute is long in this sense. I do not know, but in the contradictions and in the subversion that we talked about above, there is high poetry. As never before, the current poet knows that the virtualities of the language are many, and makes his work reside in the suggestive power of its elements. The condition of the newest can not only be displayed by young people, they can also possess authors who are nona genarios, writing incredibly young. Age is not a sine qua non condition for making new poetry. I think that a large part of the Guayaquil poets are inclined to the approach of conceptual brooding, conversationally poetic common come and go of deep verses, full of innovation. Another great part of the Quiteños poets are bolder in experimentation, in rhetorical games and cultists. His texts are immediate without necessarily looking for a sequence that leads the entire text. Metric freedom and formal consonant rhyme disappear in the twentieth century as a generalized tendency. The free elongation of the verse and the inner rhymes are imposed. This transformation that some call "free verse" seems to have been caused by the translation of metric and rhymed poems into languages different from those in which they were written. The impossibility of pulling equivalent words with the same sound and endings forces the translator to stick to literality, to use words that in the new language no longer rhyme and obviously the metric mismatch also occurs. The strange thing about them is that in spite of their great formal freedom because they are of beginnings, they already lay the foundations of the metrification and rhyme that would dominate the poetic panorama during the next four centuries. André Bretón calls it surrealist. Each trend or group of writers seems to want to strengthen their proposal by hiding in the safety of the school by conferring on their work titles that refer to temporary or generational issues or to ways and means of approaching their work. It uses surreal elements, fuses, intervenes as a mechanism of poetic subversion, and also incorporates and installs itself in other branches of art. If I had to give advice to young people I would say write without knowing what, that is, delusion, to destroy all conscious repression and motivate the creative act. Not everything that is written in verses today is poetry. And of course not everything that was written yesterday in verse was not poetry either. The verse is only the vehicle of poetry. That's where the verbal astonishment that comes from the hand of a certain rhythm and some resources of styles comes from. The poetry that young people do now takes some beneficial statements such as: the synthesis as a response to a society full of hurry, since the technical advances are limiting the spaces for the enjoyment of reading. Then we find a concern for the use of language. The poets of yesterday were no less sensitive to the value of words than the current ones, instead if they were to the meaning. The current poetry is inseparable from the criticism of language, which in turn the most radical and violent way of criticizing reality. That is why, at the same time, destruction and creation of language. Another nuance of the current poetry, is the absence of tropological language and the regular or classic stanzas. In the women of lubricious overflow, as a form of liberation rather than the subconscious of social prejudices. The valid thing we think that in that edge of the verse is not what is said but as it is said. At last we believe that the orientation towards social or political problems is no longer their point of view but the very configuration of the world in which they live. They are then more universal by projection and more interrelated with other poets from other latitudes. In fi, the current poetry production is not a fashion, modeling, or model with clothes designers to think or feel the soul or social reality with their problems. Nobody, because, there will always be makers of verses and poems. Previously, there was talk of vanguards, today the term is "brand new". Poetry does not accept parties, or ballot boxes or governments in their state of creation. Only part towards life, your budget is real or fictitious coexistence between your world and the worlds of events, events and perspectives. That they face and resist the memory, the history and the legacies of humanity. He approaches those who want to make known their sufferings, their unbearable secrets. To those who want to unearth their dead with just words. Embrace beings who love existence, who want to live and live in shipwrecks of hopelessness, gives them the hand to arrive at their own footprints and shores. Above all things in the world, there is one's own life that sustains its shadow, its presence and duration of passing as an untransferable treasure. Promotes self-defense and community without flags or pamphlets or slogans. The voice of the poet is a space of expression and reception, a link and bridge. It is an inescapable commitment to denouncing everyday reality, injustice, discrimination. It is a song of human sexuality, love, and the "discovery of the self with its own rhythms and accents". The poetry does not have a public bought or hired, has no recipes, nor menu or "control" or opinion of sabetodólogos. Protect the being without alms, without pity, without compassion, without guilt. It plunges into the source of the contamination of power to detect the mines of corruption that attempt hidden between things and human relationships. It also welcomes amateurs, dreamers and enthusiasts to follow. He approaches the suicide and calms it by cradling chaos and emptiness in the word. Enter the horizon to fall in new awakenings. It is discovered, the I that I am not of the I that I am and I do not know of him. Remove the I from the world of silence. Poetry passes through the prism of the senses, thoughts and imagination of the poet, seeks to make known the inhuman. The brutal within the experiences. Also the beautiful of the anguish when wrapping us with the eroticism and the sensual, or the struggle of the being for not being reduced to a puddle of putrefied words. Then, "The idea of modernism, new or new in poetry, what is it? And also run the risk of promoting or highlighting what is fashionable in the commercial market. Transform, propose, raise. The writer's life can not ignore the artery of desire. The poetic spirit is not afraid of emptiness or nothing, nor of dictatorship disguised in faces, classes and governments dressed in democracy. He does not allow himself to be fooled by the tinsel of seduction and sensationalism. Bear the glory of the word as a reality of magic installed and conceived in spaces of present times, lasting and created. 26 9 2004 Posted by carmenmvascones in Uncategorized. Mario Montalbetti is one of the most renowned Latin American poets of his generation, with a work that goes from the conversational and simple to the long and linguistically complex verse. At the end of the seventies he founded the review and creation magazine Hueso Húmero. He has reflected, also, in different colloquia and for different publications, on photography and contemporary art. In both books it is argued in favor of the thesis that the novel, as a genre, is the container of the ethical sediment of an epoch. Giusti sees in this a modern but anti-Cartesian gesture, I find a link with the dreams of human beings as positive ambitions of the species. I want to say that I agree with them. I think that the prevailing genres in a society indicate something about the way in which said society thinks about its relations with reality and with itself. The Greeks favored tragedy at some point, the Chinese of the Tang dynasty the octaves, the modern Westerners the novel. One could be even more specific and suggest-as I think Zizek has done-that the favorite way for Americans to think is not just the novel but the black serial detective novel, in which the detective ends up involved with the girl in an anti-Holmesian turn. That formal concolón that we find digging the sediment funds of our novels goes hand in hand with a certain notion of ethics. It is in this sense that novels end up being serious objects, objects that say important things about ourselves and our relationship with the world. A somewhat more perverse idea is that, since the novel is a serious object, so are the novelists by extension. All this I say by contrast with poetry and poets. The common perception is that poetry is not something serious; in any case, it is not in the sense in which the novel is serious. Neither Giusti nor Cueto says this, of course, but it is something for which we have ample evidence. It was a novelist who was commissioned to chair a commission to investigate the events of Uchuraccay. They are novelists who have regular columns in the newspapers. A novelist is not required to know extra, that's enough for him, writing novels. This deformation is the added value of the ethicity of the novel. The novel is a knowledge and its authors, therefore, should know. On the contrary, it is not clear that the poem is a knowledge; in any case it is an ornamental accessory and therefore the poets run the same fate, that of being more or less pleasant and more or less uncomfortable guests in the cocktail parties of the usual embassies. And when I say that this is the 'common perception' I am being generous, because I really believe that it is the universal perception. That is to be serious, to have a place in the series. And this de-serialized character is exactly what excludes it from any ethical consideration. And, by extension, excludes any poet from the serious series. I want to talk about this then. And I want to defend this non-seriousness of the poem. But I want to be more specific because the poem is not the non-serious object but rather the non-serious object is the verse. But since the verses usually come packaged in poems, then they inherit the perversions of the verse. I want to defend this non-seriousness from two sides. First, I want to talk about the essentially aberrant character of the poetic signifier. Then, I want to criticize the notion of unity and to do so I will return to the nature of the gap that opens between verse and poem on the one hand and between poem and novel on the other. In the first pages of 3 Essays Freud proposes that "both with respect to the object and at the end there are multiple deviations". As Freud himself warns, this vulgar knowledge comes from the Platonic idea "of the division of the human being into two halves - man and woman - that tend to meet in love". The best way to understand the 'deviations' of which Freud speaks is to assume that "no natural data links the drive to the object" as explained by Masotta; nor the drive to its end, we can add. The first chapter of 3 Essays deals with sexual aberrations. But, unlike Freud, Saussure was not interested in deviations but in emphasizing Platonic vulgar knowledge. And Saussure saw no other end of the drive than the sign. The love of the sign brings together two halves that Saussure understood as complementary. For Saussure then, the yearning and persecution of the whole is called Sign. His only radical gesture was to establish a certain lability in the object of the drive: "the bond that binds the signifier to the meaning is arbitrary". When Saussure explains this concept he indicates that the signifier "does not keep in reality any natural link" with the meaning-a formulation that seems to echo Masotta in his Freudian elucidation cited. It is here that Lacan makes the Saussurean thesis of arbitrariness be taken in its most radical direction, that is, understanding it as an indetermination of both the object and the end of the langue drive. The result is the theory of metaphor and metonymy as the two fundamental operations of language as structure, which, as we know, organize the human unconscious. From now on, metaphor and metonymy must then be seen as the two main 'aberrations' of the linguistic drive. In metonymy, a Signifier does not find the object of the drive in one meaning but in another Signifier, a kind of homolinguisticity in the field of langue. In effect, the end of metonymy is not the Sign but the displacement. So to speak, there is no intercourse, nor its natural fruit, the Sign. But Lacanian metonymy always moves on the rail of signification; that is, it always supposes "a meaning below" that ends up stabilizing it and then fossilizing it in a Sign. Undoubtedly, extreme examples of metonymic postponement such as religious discourse approach the simulacrum, if it were not for that faith in the existence of a final meaning-that distinguishes them from it. What we commonly call representation is molded on the basis of the repressive structure of every metaphor, especially that representation that, in another context, I have called open representation. But in the case of art, the representation is such that there is only art if the representative and the represented can not be exchanged without rest. It is impossible to say of an art object that represents x and then give effectively x. If possible, such an object would lose its aesthetic imprint. Pierce's definition of representation that I have just given is instructive because it is built on a tretapod: a representative, something represented, a Subject and a sense. Well seen, the image Pierce gives us of the representation looks like a medieval bed of torture in which each limb is pulled in the opposite direction to the opposite. This sense ends up being the most valuable of the whole scheme. A sense, that is, an address. An address towards which a representative points without ever reaching it; but in its deployment it orders a certain significant set, gives it direction, and prevents its members from disbanding in a puerile metastasis of forms. The meaning is possible only if Sign is not formed. But the Subject is nothing other than what the Sign wants to form. And all this points, in turn, to the vitality of certain resistance to form Sign. More precisely, to the vitality of a certain resistance to form Sign understood as the natural end of the langue drive. The Sign destroys the meaning to fossilize the meaning; that is, it domesticates a chain of signifiers attributing to them the security of a meaning. But thus seen, there is no better, or more beautiful, example of the death drive than the Sign. I return with this to the initial topic. The poem is a signifying aberration in the sense that I have just outlined. I can define poem then as the resistance to make Sign. Of course, there are many ways to not sign. There are two known ways to understand linguistic arbitrariness. The first is the one established by Saussure when pointing out that the signifier does not keep any natural link with the meaning. The second is the Lacanian arbitrariness by which the object of the langue drive of a Signifier can be as much another Significant as a meaning. This, in turn, gives rise to the ability to arbitrarily stop the significant chain to make a darning and therefore generate a meaning. But there is a third possible arbitrariness, given the previous two, which is the arbitrariness of the meaning itself. By qualifying them as contributions, I want to suggest that both lines are not out there but that they are cognitive contributions of the human being each time he participates in each of these fields respectively. In other words, the texts that we consider art, do not come with the horizon line or meaning bar. Vallejo's immediate trap is to take refuge in the fact that the word "golpe" is well written. By extension, if I mentally correct "Vusco" and write "I seek" what I am pursuing is the form that corresponds to a known meaning. Again, the will to make a sign appears. But that assumes that the word "blow" is fine because I know what a blow is. What I am suggesting here is a more radical arbitrariness than the original Saussurean and different from that proposed by Lacan. And that the predicate "poem" becomes effective when we impose a distinction with the one that does not come. The "poem" materializes as such, then, not in the arbitrary meaning we give it but in the one we give it to. This is possible because the poem, in resisting making a sign, comes without meaning, but not without meaning. Let us remember first the old dispute about the difference between a poetic text and a prose text, between a poem and a novel. Several stratagems have been tried to solve the question, from the graphic layout, the different layout, to the idea of telling a story. None solves the question properly. I propose a very simple one that can be formulated in the following way: in a poem the parts are always more than the whole. In a novel the whole is always more than the parts. This is not the time to argue the thesis thoroughly, but I place it as a backdrop to be able to say what follows. Both relationships are very different in nature and every poet knows it. The first are horizontal, the second vertical. In the verse, relationships are electric, less predictable, less predictable. Between verses, the force of what we call "the construction of a poem" takes on an enormous gravitational weight and directs the verses towards the attainment of a certain meaning, towards a certain unity. The horizontal relationships within a verse are more explorative, more adventurous, open up unusual paths. The relationships between verses resemble those shepherd dogs that run around the flock so that the sheep do not escape. It is clear then that relationships are different, serve different purposes, are there to do different things. The poem tries to make-one with the verses that it submits to its title. On the other hand, the verses abhor the unit, are essentially autonomous, independent and do not respond very well to the harassment of the shepherd dogs. On the contrary, they constantly rebel against them. In psychoanalytic terms one could say that in verse the mirror does not return anything. The verses that we completely understand disappoint us. The verses, which the poem submits to make them express a unitary content, rebel. And I maintain it because I half understand it, because it has a rest that I can not close and that is why it remains alive, reluctant to the servitude of a meaning imposed from outside. Personally, I like this idea. The horror of the rhyme was engraved on me forever since then - and it gave me a lot I'm glad to learn that the Greeks understood me for centuries. What I find at the center of this poem ideal is the deceptive and illusory notion of unity, of closed totality. But that is exactly what we also find at the center of the nation-state notion. And that is also exactly what we find at the center of the notion of language, of the same language. Maybe this is why these three categories usually go hand in hand. Well, at least languages are not like that. What we call "Castilian" is but a generalization as arbitrary as it is useful to designate, among other things, what I am talking about at this moment and that my son Elisha also speaks at the end of "moridos" and "escribidos" and "trajidos" " However, there are the Language Academies ready to preserve what they call "the unity of the language". My son does not speak Spanish, they say, he is learning it. In the same way in which a Quechua-speaking native of Ancash will never speak Castilian but Castilian-Andean. I'm afraid to ask the Academy if what I speak is Castilian or some unofficial variety and I'm afraid to sit down and wait for them to tell me. If the neo-Buddhists aspire to be one with the world, the Academies aspire to be one with the language. Let us ask ourselves something that seems unheard of: Why is the unity of Castilian desirable? Or something that is even more so: for who is it? I want to pick up a very fertile idea of conceptual artist Joseph Kosuth. Kosuth says: "art is what you do, culture is what you do". Extrapolating, without much grace I admit, I will say that verse is what you do, poem is what they do to you. And in case this is already being understood in the wrong way I want to express that doing all these imaginary ones is not bad. Human beings will always attack with nobility the crutch of meaning. But what I would like to remember is that it is not the artist's job to make culture but art. I then return, to conclude, to the poem as a non-serious object. Because the final and most surprising enigma is that almost always the poet is on the side of the poem and not the verse. As good Lacanian subjects that we are, we aspire to a whole that makes us one. But I think that writing against that imaginary weakness constitutes the ethics of the current verse. Professor and director of his thesis was Noam Chomsky, a famous linguist well known also for his radical political positions. In the first issue of this magazine he published one of his most important poems, Quasar. In 1995 he published his second book, highly experimental, entitled End Desert. On the linguistic level he is a disciple of Noam Chomsky. In football he declares himself a Sport Boys fan. An inescapable test is, for example, his most recent poetry book Five seconds of horizon, published in a precious edition by the Album of the bacterial universe. This is the full version of the edited that appeared in the newspaper Correo. That is, it is devastating to see how Peruvians in general do not develop verbal thinking on many levels. The first debates of the new Congress are about a dog, about the salary and about the offices. And every time there is a possibility that there is a debate about something serious, such as that raised by Congressmen Uribe and Supa about Quechua, it is considered simply an inconvenience. Apparently it is resolved by saying "bring a translator". But we are unable to reflect on issues that are much more serious. In that sense, yes, I think that in the book there is a reflection on the poverty of verbal thought among us. Distinction that many people do not and tends to publish everything they write. I write constantly, not only poetry, but also criticism and linguistics. Poetry I do not write so much; I have not written a verse for a year. Which does not worry me, it will come when it should come. In linguistics I try to prove that language does not exist and in poetry I try to prove that I am wrong. MM: If we distinguish, as I do not know who distinguished, what culture It is what you do and art is what you do. The Ministry of Culture is something that they are going to do to you, it is not going to help you to make art. If the Ministry of Culture is dedicated to preserving the archaeological and non-archaeological heritage of this country, well, it can be. I'm not very enthusiastic about the idea, and I'm obviously in disagreement with a Ministry of Art, for example, because those things do not go around. I think the country has more acute problems than discussing if we need a Ministry of Culture. And second, that there is no discussion about what it is going to serve, why it will be there. A network of bureaucratization of what we already have, is not very interesting, in that sense. Let's do an exercise of reflection: in the last 50 years what verbal ideas have been produced by Peruvians. There is no practice of discussion or criticism. I leave aside journalism, which in reality is almost totally irrelevant to what is happening in culture at this time. It occurred to someone to say, I do not know why, that it was the first time that there is a national agreement regarding our gastronomy. A totally Lima idea, I think. There is no discussion about what is happening with gastronomy, why it starts to be a topic of discussion. They forgot about that, now it's just a discomfort. We have an ability to, whenever we have an important issue, put it under the carpet or make it disappear. And we do discuss if this office is mine or yours. It is probably one of the most important documents that has been produced in this country in the last 50 years. Of course, we prefer to discuss other things. MM: His intellectual importance has two aspects. And the other side is the political side, where you have a series of ideas about what is happening in the world. But perhaps the most important thing about Chomsky is not only the ideas that he has, with which one may or may not agree, but the seriousness of his thought to examine the events that are taking place, the critical and analytical nature of his mind. Everyone feels more or less confident in the idea of pigeon-holeding Chomsky as a radical leftist, anti-Zionist, in short, all these letterheads that put him. And I think that the most interesting part of Chomsky, besides his ideas, is the way he comes to his ideas. It's not that Chomsky is uncriticable. The other possibility is without networks: we are many, we are diverse, but if we put all this together, we form some kind of one? That is the diversity that interests me. The poem "Far from me tell you comrades" is a kind of poetic art that increses, that seeks to awaken a critical will regarding the use of language in poetry. I believe that there is a rejoicing in certain findings that are reiterated. In my poetry, especially in this book, meaning manifests itself as a direction, as a path that opens but does not show its end. That is, a poetry that listens to the mechanisms of verbal representation and not those of experience. Much of what we call reality is nothing but a construction of language. Piera Alaugnier is a French analyst who says that the first violence a child suffers happens when he can not understand what the mother says. And I think that violence is what the poet reproduces in some way. Like other famous cases regarding the graphic use of a poem, this book demands a special attention to its components. Thus a more open rhetoric is established thanks to the blank spaces, the loose punctuation marks, the enlargement or reduction of the sizes to mark different emphases, or the stretched words until their letters are separated. It is not, then, a flat desert, but one that hides numerous waves. Other threads are intertwined to increase the semantic density of End Desierto, which is not limited to an abstract or oneiric story, because the subject speaks from its precariousness, from its prosaic everydayness and rabid. At times the desert can also become a table prepared for the offering, as well as for eroticism and sacrifice, but its values are reversed: "This is the verse in which blood becomes wine". Obviously, the language of huayno estetriste is affected in its capacity to reconstruct the real and is involved in the same vertigo of the Altiplano height. These words transformed into tombs of themselves, open tombs whose remains have been lost, confirm that the visual option of this book is not a mere caprice, but a way to represent dispersion. It is understood, therefore, that in addition to circumscribing this or that geographical desert, it is also intended to account for its modulation in a similar internal state. This will is not closed with Deserted End. As Llantos elíseos, Five seconds of horizon shows the persistence of this project, citing, mixing and contradicting some of its sentences. In one of his verses, it is indicated: "I hope the end of the desert". But a few pages later he decides: "The goal is to continue". There is a word drifting buried between storms. There is an intoxicated bird sleeping on the abyss and there is an abyss after another immensely invisible. There is a certain science that old people deploy while they seek the key to their visions. The word has been broken and the sum of all its fragments is now destruction. You are a poet, but your work is more linked to linguistics. He has never dictated a poetry workshop, for example... Being a linguist allows me not to be a professional poet. Do not teach people why certain verses are better than others. It's a luxury that linguistics gives me. My job is linguistic and the other I do because I like it, because it seems important to me. We did a kind of recount of part of the poetry that had come out after the year 2000, made by very young people, and it is excellent, of first quality. In prose, the same can not be said. There seems to be something as interesting as what happens in poetry. The excellence of Peruvian poetry, among other things, is due to the fact that there is a great middle class of Peruvian poetry. In other words, there is a great middle class of people who write well enough, they are not geniuses or tacos, they write very well. This kind of bed or mattress, I believe, allows poets to exist who not only write well enough, but who are really good. That phenomenon is not so clear in the case of prose. But now many novels and stories are published. When you have an editorial contract you are forced to write a novel. Nobody writes a novel a year, Dickens and Dostoevsky were exceptions. If you live of this, you are hired, you are an employee of a publishing house and you depend on it. Probably yes; it does not determine them, but it does influence. It is written a lot on request... I do not know. It seems so because of the amount of publications that exist. I think something begins to fade when you publish excessively. For example, one of the best writers of recent years is undoubtedly Mario Bellatin. But that condensation that was in the first novelitas of Bellatín begins to dilute a little. It's not that it's bad, because he's a good writer, but he lacks the edge he had at the beginning. There are people who publish and there are people who write. There are people who publish to sell in Wong and buy a house, write off a car. And there are people who write because they have something to say. Then, if differences between the writers and the publishers, you more or less understand the motivations of each one. Making the distinction again, I think nobody writes poems to buy a house. Nor should we say that in literature anything goes, that is another story that is related to the hypertrophy of the market. Yes you can say it: there are bad novels. Literally I do not think the debate is very interesting, psychologically or sociologically perhaps. It is so difficult to distinguish if someone is Creole or Andean, if he is regal or funny. Maybe issues of another order are being solved, which do not have much to do with literature. There was an incipient polemic about poetry that I participated in conversations with Mirko Lauer, but then the debate disappeared. It is not part of the debate in poetry, I think because there is a conscience a little better in poetry and because it is not hypertrophied by the market. The poet Pablo Guevara spoke to us, in our previous issue, of the trends, links and affinities in contemporary Peruvian poetry. As part of this continuing tradition, where would you place your poetics? As they say, Cisneros gave him the grandparents of the wolf to Peruvian poetry. I imagine that for the young people of the seventies, in the Catholic, they were our source. Now, there was another group more vitalist, but in which I did not participate: Reunited Station. They were more Spanish; on the other hand, more discursive. Although Hernández had the everyday and the sarcastic, which is also in my poetry, I have not taken it from him. In your poetry there is a lot of irony and explicit humor, especially in your last book... Yes, but also rhetorical humor. In the official culture, or more or less official, I think that Peruvian poetry has no weight. People have no idea what is happening in Peruvian poetry last. So, what would be the contribution of Peruvian poetry for criticism? The contribution is measured in decades or centuries; It is something continuous that goes from Vallejo to us. But a contribution of the poetry of the 80 or 90 is too minimal. Cartographies of Contemporary Poetry It is said that contemporary Peruvian poetry has given voice to those who did not. Peruvian poetry has never given voice to anyone. Rather, the computer and the Internet have given them a voice. There are always people who have written poetry, but the publication has always been restricted. You were friends with a publisher; Then, you published. Instead, now you can draw your own edition. That is to say, that difference between writing and publishing poetry is no longer respected; and new technologies have contributed to that. Today, there are no barriers to publishing, but there is no criticism either. On the contrary, it is worse than before; Everyone says something and nobody knows where the thing is going. The attempt of Mirko Lauer and mine, to read what was published recently, was to "map" a bit: where are the poets you like. I think the poetry that is made lately in Peru is of a very good level. Very young people, between 22 and 30 years old, write with an exceptional command of the language. It is really exciting to read the latest poetic production. My impression is that everyone reads Peruvian poetry. One of the characteristics of this is that they are all part of that tradition. Even when Hora Zero appeared, they also integrate that tradition. As I have said more than once: they all write with Vallejo blowing on the neck. Peruvian poets, in general, know a lot about Peruvian poetry; and that explains why we have good poetry. Beyond the compadrazgo - "this is my friend, then I will promote it" - I think that does not happen in Peru. There is a kind of natural disenchantment among poets; therefore, they are engaged in criticism. Many times the interview supplants criticism, because there is simply no criticism. Recently, in an interview they asked me: do you use many metaphors when writing poems? Later they publish: "Montalbetti uses metaphors to write poems". I think that tradition begins when you liberate yourself from Spanish and open yourself to French. However, the Spanish background continues; that is to say, the Peruvian poet who writes in Spanish suffers the gravitational weight of the sonnet. Even if you do not know the sonnet formula, there is something, in the "spirit of the language", that goes from the endecasílabo to the structure of the rhyme. There is a background of the Spanish language against which you write. Then, there are other influences that accommodate this whole process. The house of being You speak of language forms and we must refer, necessarily, to your training as a linguist. We remember the articles you wrote about the Sphinx and the "being in the language". In my poetry there is a lot of metalinguistics, which is the language for writing poetry; but the sign is totally different. When I do linguistics, I try to prove that language does not exist. They have said that I am a poet of language... I should not say it, but the beginning of a poem is a linguistic experience. There are certain constructions that seem surprising to me and I follow them; I believe that the development of a poem begins to be nourished by experience. I mean, I was scared by a dog and I wrote about a dog; do not. The development of a poem is produced from linguistic constructions that are nourished by those vital contents. I have a thesis that establishes the difference between prose and poetry. In the background, the poem wants a kind of shepherd dog that tries to make sure that the sheep - the verses - of the herd do not escape. In this book I was interested in working the verse and that the poem was not a unit. For that reason, in each one of the poems it is indicated how many verses it contains to emphasize that, in fact, it is a set of verses. If they are loose verses, that do not try to be a poem, how can a poems result? Therefore, the poems are arranged in alphabetical order. That is, its armed has been random. With a bonus track: Letter to Fliess, which does not appear even in the index. I myself have attempted against the unity of the book. Actually, any poem could have been that bonus. One does not know if it is part of Eight quatrains... Thus I emphasize the idea of not unity, of not everything. For example, for a matter of the publisher, the writer's name does not appear in any of his object-books because they believe that they are more important than the author. I share this spirit, and I think the fundamental thing is that good verses are written and not who wrote them. However, he does want the final verse or verses to be impressive. But I did not want to abuse that resource in this book precisely because there is not a whole that is being darned as a unit. I admit that there have been delays, but they were involuntary. All verses should have the same weight. And this depends on the reader, not the poem. In one of his verses he says that Castilian is a dead language. It could even be more radical and say that Castilian does not exist. To say that he died implies recognizing that he was born. Spanish is a generalization of linguists to talk about what people say in certain areas. People only talk and there is no unity; in any case, this is superficial. The only thing that both share is the vocation to break the notion of unity and depth of their raw material. He said he likes poets who write knives in hand. I like poets who write against the language, despite the language. I do not like comfortable writers. In one of his verses he asks poets to be less tolerant. Yes, less tolerant with the comfort of meaning, with the feeling that we communicate, that we all make a unity. In short, that we are more critical. Yes, but, eye, to the Vallejo of The Black Heralds. With Trilce's I would not get involved. That is, ours is fundamentally the commentary of the concepts that both authors and consecrated poets handle and exchange in their conversation about recent Peruvian poetry. Finally, where a poet from 60 and another from 75? Put another way, what is the new poetry, say from 2000 to here? Consequently, those who have best dealt with the "feminine" theme in Peru are male poets. It is not that they are not there, I am sure they are, but I think they no longer emphasize the geographical aspect of their identity. Obviously, this is the effect of the Internet and the very process of globalization. This must be the first generation after the 50's that requires a dictionary at hand. Except Piñeiro, the rest uses it for domestic-erotic themes. Almost in the line of Catullus, Marcial; sometimes with irony or erotic stripe, but others that seems to be the weapon with which they investigate seriously the everyday. Cratilo brings to the paroxysm the Heraclitean doctrine of panta rei and comes with a linguistic appendix: if reality is in permanent flux, any language that tries to apprehend the essences of things with words is a farce. In this sense, the poetry of Hernandez is still alive now, but without the Vallejo who inhabits him in a sly manner. That is, he was a member of the 900 generation that preceded him. In contrast to that, our current poets can only be epigonal or foundational. This, apart from assessing Lauer that the young poet would practice a hybrid writing which, as we have already pointed out, is another typical feature of postmodernity. In other words, what this critic says: "the rich broth of documentary" would be taken by Montalbetti with rubber gloves and very reluctantly. If you have not read it, you should do it. I think this book should be the best one I've read so far. Difficult to extract from it a sample that does justice to the whole. But as soon as I point it out I realize the injustice. Abelardo offers me one for this afternoon, when I return to Lima. Now I go to see your arguments, which seem to me above all comments to the creative passion. But if we had to look for a recognizable paradigm of excellence, I say, then we would have to keep the remote influence of conversational poetry. New Peruvian poetry "this is not the case; that is, the confusion of languages is only apparent. This is the insipid marinade that right now both partners try to continue selling to the -between clueless, cunning or well-intentioned- new Peruvian poets. One way, he made a contrasentido, his adolescence stamped a provocation. His book "Yo mujer", published in 1971, produced a tremor in the emotions constricted or contained under the skirts of the imaginary line. Adolescence is rebellious, whether you like it or not, it disallows the bosses, disregards innocence, discovers a body that does not want to be mute. The two faces of the world, life and death, prelude to the word, dreams and every bet we conjugate in the chance of time. And from 2006 to 2009, he had an unstoppable whirlwind. This is: the culmination of its resurgence. To that "predatory" criticism the santera, as she called herself, ignored her with silence for a long moment. The enigma of emptiness sends us to a desire that we lack or causes us to fail with pleasures: the pain and the joy of existing once and for all in that irreplaceable body chullo and witness of the chronicles of the act. He cried, laughed and surrounded the firmament under his shaman dances. Fecundó to the fire in its uterus, it broke the water in its lacrimal. The sea lay on the rock while she bathed the waves in flowers. Worthy of his dream and his voice caught the wind on mobile phones. He braided the stars while his sandals were spent in the passion of the mud. The network of his memory a place for nothing and the feast of fantasies. The celebration of myth in the footprint that follows you. The word: the cave to camp the testimony of the being that is the network or the trap of desire. The writer, is the woman who played with the scandal, who mocked and ironized about herself. His style: rites of fasting in snake vessels revealing the belly of memory. The link of his enigma is his poetry. He undressed to the life of silence. He nursed Oedipus and consoled him for his misfortune. He told him-play as long as you can with innocence, the rest will be the accident of an angry opponent in the oracle. Diluted the "ephemeral happiness" in salt. Cooked in time in jars of bitter tea. It became object and subject of the sight. The look is steeped but silent. Morality is the eye of the overlap, the toilet returns the fault of guilt. The mouth of the ideology throws the dice in the perverse humor very linked with melancholy: the gallows of the word. She came out undefeated in the fight with the rogue. The breakdown of the feminine and masculine trembles in the alibi of pleasure. Displeasure brings the body back so that no one abandons himself in mirages of satisfactions inside the jail of the earth: the barred and entangled bodies in the I do not know of the totem and taboo that he submits always challenge. Knowledge is not enough to approach the limits with mortal matter. Living demands against death, provoking it until it is shameless. Stigma, restraint and compliance or desacato according to... Included and excluded from itself is self-determined in its own footprint: half covered, half discovered. Half silence, half scandal. Divine half, mortal half of you. Half of me for whom in the essence of his poetry. Half nascent of the word that names you. In the middle of the memory the story ends without half. She says, "I never did anything or I was nothing, because what I always wanted is to be a poet". Against himself, he was known before and after death. His word from the beginning was controversial. He took refuge and lived in and out of chaos. His thought a darn dauntless. Between maya and solitude he wove the voice in the loom. Rediscover little by little the illusion of once again taking up that passion: creation. Exit "and be able to erase the image in which I had stuck, and stay at zero." He made dolls of mirrors, of threads, of paper. He wove bellies where he deposited reality with his magic and nightmares, hung them on his shoulder and went for a walk in the parks without anyone noticing that they contained their secrets. His dream moments put them on canvas, embroidered his imagination in phosphorescent tapestries. In the attempt to be the plot of his life hooked the verb with all its defects and virtues. Behold, what would have been the one that is in his I am that prevailed in spite of everything. Her genuine desire caused her to be engendered in the life-giving letter. The woman who prevailed and was not amputated from reality. Like or dislike her poetics, she transcended it, leaving her in a place where death does not dare with life. The spiral existence of the time of the blood "from life to life and to my life". The rewriting and correction of the imperative verb, be the return of the word whenever it is not. The poet invokes the imagination, flesh of her projection of the "I will be". It assumes its destiny as a mandate from the past and the future. It goes into the present of the only other: it is itself and it is not. You let us summon the sound of the source water: the first music of childhood. You sing to the moon asleep in your body while the fog is hidden in the mountain. In the source of the matrix the rainbow is born. You trample nothing in the flicker of doubt. The understanding is incompatible with the ideology of the image and the mask. Being refutes the self in that I am not, maybe it is, lest I be, I do not know. And so it goes from dazed and dazed to an instant to cool off with happiness without mental or real tortures. He takes his time writing that disarms any adaptation to the regulation that is fulfilled or coims. She: the epicenter of the interdict plays and cites with life to verify it. Luck is in your naughty hands that defied undressing all enigma. Disarms childhood with their vulnerability, makes you descend as a shooting star in the dizziness of the night, face the solitude of the first breath, sigh and death breath. You soften with bells, water with petals, incenses and tunic waiting for the moment. You illuminate the little one according to you "unknown in your belly". The dream is not the act although the germ of all illusion is there, at a point where we close and open our eyes and fix memories, forgetfulness and frights. That's where you call, you call me, I call you, my name is me. And without forgetting to mention you there, you express yourself with a resounding "you spied on my childish mirrors and in a very remote memory I look at myself and my blurred gesture is on my face". The pure image of to be returned to that little body that does not know of the restlessness of chaos, of the disorder of emptiness in lust, annihilation and the force of gravity in the body. Attentive to the plot conjugates the we with being and feeling. The poetry is left to read, its creator lets itself know, the woman does not know what to do with the hiding place. A naked body looks into its own eyes. The poet agrees with her words. He struggles with thoughts that look like claws on broken strings. She hangs up her thoughts in nature, spells a song more or less like that, "let nothing lull you daughter of the wind and the heir smoke like the mother of mystery and freedom". It embraces the Soledad and the Maya of all being in the nest of your heart forever. Makes wait for the verb between juggling, games and pranks "what will be, what will be." Round the question, the last is broken, childhood is not a rag toy. Childhood has mouth, origin, a body sometimes intractable, unknown. He demands without knowing what, perhaps life takes over him... Poetry and childhood are contacts with approved and forbidden games. Whoever finds seeks, whoever seeks finds himself. Whoever unravels dares to turn around in nonsense. The poet looks at herself, becomes exhausted, falls out of love, wants to defeat and tame the beast. He knows forever that "the rite of dying is an action of solitaires." Skin the turbulent and exhausted skin. In those experiences that built and destroyed it, there the drama or the comedy of his basting in his self: "in my indefatigable decision to experience everything or to evolve..." "in this barely comprehensible vortex that is my life". The bohemian feminine and masculine of the unknown or known in doubt then what. He consumed eros in the theater of his senses. The chronicle of his Eden and pilgrimage moved away from the seduction of nothingness, since that was like playing Russian roulette, who shoots at whom in that suicidal pleasure? Or as she deciphers "suicidal orgasm." And to the captivity of a voracious eros that would shoot with him, that launched the dart until he found it to surrender it. At the crossroads of pain light was made in its feminine power, life was given without retaliation or removed from there. The droplet of dew fell at the root of the authentic love still. They were two in one half of their other half, within themselves the lack of presence and absence. I would say three times with her word that led her to defy fate without reservation with just enough to follow you, with one now you follow me and you will know about me. With his radical: I do not renounce myself, in the only thing he has, his fidelity to return. The poetics of his life, dilemmas and scriptural proposal. The passion that lived was "like a sword attached to my being". In the solitude of her body she descended to chaos, the network of maya cushioned not to fall into the abyss, she offered herself to emptiness to fill it with poetry, she was naked of nothing so as not to fall prey to the useless pain of an omen without peace for anyone. Sheyla discovers herself, covers herself, dawns watching the moon sleeping, wants to settle accounts. He took refuge in the accompanying solitude to learn to listen. Between pencil, pen and erasers was the guardian who watched and caught the impasses of irreconcilable life and death. The lucidity of this woman uncovered the ravings of emptiness in the body of a mirror where there is nothing to look at. Melancholy of paper the fable of the awakening and that of going out of loves that are not such in the "litigation with the lady death". It is due to poetry, poetry completes it, speaks to it, returns it to itself. Cry "absolve me of the consequences of my ignorance". She light and darkness of the ghost in her "who I am". Stories interspersed with tinos and blunders. Pleasure time outside and inside the emptiness. Between the extremes "the word has changed face". The extremes do not touch, they do not compete with distance. Worldly and sublime joys are not contradictory between them. Love a meat in the process of decompositions and compositions. There, the young word inquires, soaks the voice. The word is searched in the footprint. Fantasy: a feast of loneliness. The thought a mystery for the other, between what is said and not, the acts that do not give up. The memory accompanies although it is not wanted sometimes. Who can silence these women who undressed paradise, who ovulated their own inventions. They speak what they feel without worrying about the veto of censorship. It is said that poetry does not have sex. The feminine tightens the identity. Too much beauty causes fear. Death is not emptiness or absence. It is anticipation of being inside the I am not. The limit with the mundane in the eye of the forbidden and | clandestine, who is not? However, the poet Patricia Noriega says "life gets stuck in my courage". Disrupt the word, "I was seduced by your ways... of woman and man". Opípara hallucination of Eros consummating sensations. Narcissistic adoration imbedded in the intimacy of the "birth of the word". This Voice of Eros is a debate and a provocation of what is and is not poetry. The anthologist or compiler confesses without prejudice to a text that proposes and expresses, does not put the machete in the head of the authors to indicate which is in the major or minor leagues, it is not about comparisons or promoting or undermining to others. This book is felt as a sample of voices that express their word without self-exclusion, and without asking permission from anyone. Sheila only loves poetry and serves him. With this book he tries to "fill the emptiness of feminine poetry". Its thematic axis in this approach is the erotic, each in its essential difference. History and poetry unravel the ball of the occult. The poetic proposal is in the arena of life and death. The absence and the word contact. The human erotic is a desire to be. Not to be reduced to the bite of instinct. Not to be crushed by a pleasure that is chaotic with limits. The debauchery falls by its own weight. Only the human sublimates and creates and therefore poetizes. It suffers and enjoys existence. Being illiterate of your self names you. Dialogue with the word that runs between their bodies to not remain captive in the hunt for emotions. The voices of this voice of eros collects and shows the paths of the poetics of the women of Ecuador. The first one is a compilation of erotic poetry of 110 women who put their ideas through the word for two centuries. On this occasion the House of Culture presents its second edition. According to words expressed by Bravo, in the prologue of the first edition of 'La voz de eros', this compilation was made with the purpose of showing the participation of women in the literary world. Artist of multiple tendencies and tireless Cultural Promoter. Two centuries of erotic poetry of Ecuadorian women. Unauthorized Chronicles of Eden. The voice of Eros, Erotic poetry of 110 Ecuadorian women. Second edition corrected and augmented. It has five poems that are about to be published, as well as several stories and novels for children. A book of stories of spiritual fiction and a porno-erotic novel. A book of magical recipes and others of culinary recipes. He is writing the self-biographical attempt "I, the myth, character with texts". He encouraged the nightlife of the city, at a time when the capital was going to bed early and the cold was the only inhabitant of the night. He encouraged poetry, when he dared to reveal the nudity and eroticity that was also part of the literary work of the Ecuadorians, when he published the first anthology of women's erotic poetry. She was also a woman of solidarity and attached to the causes of others, especially women. Bullanguera and radical, always with some cultural initiative under his arm. Always dreaming, especially the impossible. Always loving, with abandon and lust, as it should be. It is not about confirming the rule; that there is no bad death. Sheyla was, in essence, a dreamer who enjoyed provoking and breaking molds, especially those full of mold and dandruff. He was Minister of Culture of Felipe González and he left us a great lesson: he never gave up questioning or his ideas. And as Joaquin Hernandez says, he had the courage never to have fallen into the power games. Sheyla also leaves us several unpublished books, poetry, children's novels, ancestral and even esoteric recipes. But also his autobiography, which was already assumed as a myth and character. So was Sheyla, transgressor. That is why his departure hurts, even though, as the great Cholo Vallejo said, death always arrives with a disgusting punctuality. Sheila was a cheerful and boisterous girl, involved in everything and everyone and I want to remember her like that, with that orbit of sympathy and fascinated interrogation that always haunted her. Please, let me use a slightly too familiar expression to refer to this poet girl: I liked her. If you ask me why, it is more than likely that I do not know how to answer them. It is possible that it was for the joy of living, the clearing and that carefree way of carrying out the existence. Also for that talented mischief that he displayed as an alpinist's flag, for that lighthearted joy but without being too loud, but not contained either. Because it was important, like almost every artist. After all, she was not only spoiled at home but also as the only poetess lady in the Workshop. And she made no effort to admit that she liked that situation of being a vehicle of admiration for both male poet or not in the literary workshop. I request understanding so that they also accept that I use the expression girl poet for her. I will never stop being a poet girl for me. I hope that in the legendary profile of Sheila is imprinted this fixation to the best obsessive but real. Sheila in a modest setting was a true legend. At the beginning of the decade of the eighties of the last century, the fingers of one hand were left over to tell the women who were giving little steps in what they now call - I think with too much emphasis - female liberation. I think that Sheila broke many schemes, since she became engrossed with her famous literature teacher - or hers - until when old money greens made a show of supposedly being with her, if only by repeating what they would say about artistic circles. I do not know if the love of his life was the musketeer of the brush, Ramiro Jácome, but it seemed to me when he worked to rescue his memory of him by presenting a retrospective of his work and perhaps a little earlier. With his eyes of eternal and raw mischief I studied my reactions when he announced the preparation for the printing of a book of biographical gossip of the most renowned literary men who went through his life, whether or not they are from La Pedrada Zurda. He told me that he was little less than not leaving a puppet with a head on the plane of libido and social relations. I definitely liked Sheila. See you soon Sheila Bravo, we'll see you soon. It is still valid in poetry although it does not leave the house anymore. That's why for the poetess Sheyla Bravo it was difficult to attend an interview from the bed in which she now lives due to illness. However, and faithful to her style, this woman does not flinch from the fact of spending her days in the "haven of jade" as she describes the place from which she now writes and remembers. After 40 years of literary and pictorial work, his experience surprises and delights in equal measure. Since she was an adolescent, she was an expert in provocations, which generated incomprehension of professors and nuns. At age 15 she was definitively expelled from the school and never returned to the classrooms; at 17 he had already published his first book of poems; Before 20 he knew life as a couple and other experiences. She confessed herself as a lascivious, ardent and vital woman in her lit texts. He deciphered with the precision of a blog the beauty of the sexual encounter between her, another body and all the bodies. He dared to read his work in public in universities and theaters, to the displeasure of moralists and bitter. He never played in a group, he discarded vanguards and workshops: he had self-exclusion as a guideline. Lonely or in company he stayed afloat, loving. More "than poet I consider myself poetic," he says from his bed, with that voice capable of drawing back the curtains of his temporary room. Large handkerchiefs and fabrics concentrate the aromas of camphor and cologne in the small room. He has not lost his strength and although he has trouble taking a pen, he still writes by hand. Then, her texts are transcribed to a computer and she re-filled them with annotations, tachons and marks in a tortuous process. He edits a book of stories and his autobiography that already has a title: "I, the myth". In the same promises revelations and dozens of secret episodes. Details that would give name and surname to several of his previous creations. He attended the ceremony in a wheelchair. The award ceremony will be held on Tuesday, December 1 at 6:00 pm in the City Hall. Sheyla Bravo Velásquez is an artist of multiple tendencies and cultural promoter. Let's forget for a moment the etymologies, the canons, the easy squares and let's go into these pages. Two centuries of erotic poetry of Ecuadorian women. 2006 has been a special year for poetry in Ecuador. An extensive anthology, whose virtue is to have recovered a vast universe of poems of conceptual, generational and philosophical wealth, which show what Ecuador is in literature. His intention was to contribute to the dissemination of poetry written by women, hence the criterion that predominated was quantity, rather than quality. 106 poets make up this book that makes visible the multiple voices of women who speak of the erotic universe and its beyond. But never, never poetry leaves anyone indifferent. Let's forget for a moment the etymologies, the canons, the easy squares and let's go into these pages. It is better to remember that imagination, like the blue bird of Maeterlink, changes color when it is caged. After all, the negative gloom that expands in our country, fuels the death drive we all have on our heels. The body and its joys have always imposed their power on the human being no matter how much ideologies and religions have come to pass, with the intention of regularizing and submitting them. The very repeated assertion that the instinct is only irrepressible in animals is not valid for our humanity, when we find that such natural force impels to procreate. Eroticism does not seek reproduction, it refreshes life with an applied creativity of pleasure, in the discovery of carnal jubilation. History is full of anecdotes of persecution and condemnation of those who were explorers of bodies and broke social conventions. I believe that two facts fundamentally explain that attitude: the fear of concrete desires and an exercise of power that enters the bedrooms. Each society put explicit and implicit rules, to the pursuit of enjoyment. And one of many rules was that women should not talk about that issue. Either it was indecent or it was in bad taste. Therefore, the loving expression of the writers remained in the limbo of "the most expensive affections of the heart," as some of them said, among which maternal affections were paramount. The great social transformations of the early twentieth century also released thought and pen about it. But that statement neglects that only now are the poets free to express themselves erotically. And they have prolonged the now with a frequency that does border on the exhaustion of images and literary resources. Worth this opportunity, no more, to remember and exalt the joys of the body. Stories interspersed with tinos and blunders. Pleasure time outside and in a vacuum. Between the extremes "the word has changed face". The extremes do not touch, they do not compete with distance. Worldly and sublime joys are not contradictory between them. Love a flesh in the process of decompositions and compositions. There, the young word inquires, soaks the voice. The word is searched in the footprint. Fantasy: a feast of loneliness. The thought a mystery for the other, between what is said and not, the acts that do not give up. The memory accompanies although it is not wanted sometimes. Who can silence these women who undressed paradise, who ovulated their own inventions. They speak what they feel without worrying about the veto of censorship. It is said that poetry does not have sex. The feminine tightens the identity. Too much beauty causes fear. Death is not emptiness or absence. It is anticipation of being inside the I am not. The limit with the mundane in the eye of the forbidden and | clandestine, who is not? However, the poet Patricia Noriega says "life gets stuck in my courage". Disrupt the word, "I was seduced by your ways... of woman and man". Opípara hallucination of Eros consummating sensations. Narcissistic adoration imbedded in the intimacy of the "birth of the word". This Voice of Eros is a debate and a provocation of what is and is not poetry. The anthologist or compiler confesses without prejudice to a text that proposes and expresses, does not put the machete in the head of the authors to indicate which is in the major or minor leagues, it is not about comparisons or promoting or undermining to others. This book is felt as a sample of voices that express their word without self-exclusion, and without asking permission from anyone. Sheila only loves poetry and serves him. With this book he tries to "fill the emptiness of feminine poetry". Its thematic axis in this approach is the erotic, each in its essential difference. History and poetry unravel the ball of the occult. The poetic proposal is in the arena of life and death. The absence and the word contact. Not to be reduced to the bite of instinct. Not to be crushed by a pleasure that is chaotic with limits. The debauchery falls by its own weight. Only the human sublimates and creates and therefore poetizes. It suffers and enjoys existence. Being illiterate of your self names you. Dialogue with the word that runs between their bodies to not remain captive in the hunt for emotions. The voices of this voice of eros collects and shows the paths of the poetics of the women of Ecuador. Sheyla Bravo, throughout her life contributed to the national culture, not only as an artist but also as a cultural manager. Sheyla Bravo was a visual artist, writer and cultural animator. He also published an anthology of erotic poetry of Ecuadorian women, whose two editions sold out quickly. Manthra editores published, in 2010, his complete poetic work. He also leaves two unpublished novels and his autobiography I, the myth: character with texts. He also participated in several exhibitions, individual and collective, with his tapestries and plastic work. Sheyla was also an expert in magical arts, healing and gastronomy, and leaves two unpublished books: Recipes to feed my beloved and ancestral recipes and magic secrets. She was a permanent cultural animator through the production of meetings, festivals and artistic recitals. I am scared and cold I know that I am completely alone in this terrifying trance and that no one but myself will help me Oh cruel sister and painful executioner let me know your mystery in peace Help me to accept it now that I am about to undertake this long maybe eternal journey. Let's forget for a moment the etymologies, the canons, the easy squares and let's go into these pages. It is better to remember that imagination, like the blue bird of Maeterlink, changes color when it is caged. Artist of multiple tendencies and Cultural Promoter. It has five poems that are about to be published, as well as several stories and novels for children. A book of stories of spiritual fiction and a porno-erotic novel. A book of magical recipes and others of culinary recipes. He is writing the self-biographical attempt "I, the myth, character with texts". Self-taught artist of multiple talents, he cultivates handicrafts and plastic arts, with which he has participated in some individual and collective exhibitions. The anthologist or compiler confesses without prejudice to a text that proposes and expresses, does not put the machete in the head of the authors to indicate which is in the major or minor leagues, it is not about comparisons or promoting or undermining to others. This book is felt as a sample of voices that express their word without self-exclusion, and without asking permission from anyone. Seyla only loves poetry and serves him. With this book he tries to "fill the emptiness of feminine poetry". Its thematic axis in this approach is the erotic, each in its essential difference. History and poetry unravel the ball of the occult. The poetic proposal is in the arena of life and death. The absence and the word contact, The human erotic is a desire to be. Not to be reduced to the bite of instinct. Not to be crushed by a pleasure that is chaotiza with the limits. The debauchery falls by its own weight. Only the human sublimates and creates and therefore poetess. The possession of the asatos to eros. The memory refutes oblivion in the rear. The lapse of the word and a desire seeking its place on the scene. Finding faith in a one that does not exterminate or dynamite the twilight of memory. To uncover the word is to discover its smells, its flavors, its slippery world in the intricate webs of the devastating labyrinth of a power that smells like a pit when its position is forgotten or ignored. Absolute control is the agony of anguish. We must take back the senselessness of being, ask ourselves the question, for what are we born? That was his registration in Buchenwald, the German concentration camp in which he lived deported between 20 and 22 years. With it disappears a bad memory of the twentieth century, the extermination. Well, each generation has a twilight of those characteristics. But now it's playing live to me. There are still older people than me who have gone through the experience of the fields. But not all are writers, of course. In the twilight the memory becomes more tense, but it is also more subject to deformations. Then there is something... Do you know what is the most important thing about having gone through a field? For these circumstances, precisely, literature. I have inside my head, alive, the most important smell of a concentration camp. And that smell is going to go with me as it has already gone with others. " His dilemma since leaving Buchenwald was writing about the past or living the present. It was necessary to wait until 1994 for the narrator to dive to the bottom of that wound. The result was a mythical title today: Writing or life. Many years ago in just 10 minutes of black and white filming I contemplated "the look" for the first time. After this first impact I have tried to find answers in the stories of the deported survivors of the camps. I wanted to know more, and I walked among the desolate barracks of Birkenau; I tried to find those answers. The problem is that there were not any. Nor words to describe the horror. Today I know it's because of the depth of this story. This is a hard and essential journey. Curiosity, being healthy and knowing German; everything else is random. Semprún recalls that in fact he met all these conditions and also his vital resistance during the time he remained in Buchenwald, and yet, after liberation, he is unable to project himself in the future. But there could be no life without memories and not with them because they directly addressed the experience of death. Around this election and what that decision meant throughout his life is built this test. All temporal ellipses, jumps, and associations. The writer faces the radical evil of Kant ─das radikal böse─ without details, without excesses, without gimmicky recreations. Subtle insinuations are enough. The absence of the song of the birds suffices him. It is enough for him to evoke the snow of his memories, of his dreams. The eternal smoke of Ettersberg's hill crematory. The intensity of the chanting of the Kaddish prayer. Moments as sublime as the surprising outcome. Through the numerous poetic literary references, in French and German mostly, our writer literally leads to awe in certain scenes. I have to make life with so much death. And the best way to achieve it is writing. The first full of memories and episodes of his life before his arrest and the moments immediately after his release from the field. In the second burst life and happiness always fragile, which contributed women who brought him back to life, music and the strength of literature. Politics was in those years the therapy of oblivion, because it offered the possibility of a future, it projected to come. And finally a third phase: writing. In 1963, coinciding with his break with the Communist Party and the abandonment of politics, Semprún began his journey through literary creation and broke the silence he had maintained for many years. The decision to write this book arises on April 11, 1987, the same day that Primo Levi took his life. The same day that forty-two years before Buchenwald was released. You are responsible, though not guilty. "The reader may feel a certain reluctance to immerse himself in so much pain and discover the darkest corners of the human soul. However, it is necessary to travel this path for a very simple reason: because we must not forget. It seems that Semprún contains in the background the desire to pass the baton to others. Let them read the unspeakable, and try to imagine even from a distance what that should have been, what it supposed. By sharing their pain, being able to understand it. Stand by his side, and look with his eyes. That's what other stories are for. Semprún pretends to offer an overall vision, not a "relief of facts". Nebulous meanders, to top. " When Semprún seems to fall apart when he remembers, it is as if his own memory tries to escape. The power of literature is what can save this memory of death, even more than the history books themselves. When I walked behind the answers I stood in front of the entrance to the great extermination complex that was Auschwitz-Birkenau. There was a sentence heading an absolutely endless list of deportees and the sad history of that place, read the following: "Those people who forget their history are condemned to repeat it." I very much agree with that maxim. This writer and sublime intellectual of intense and committed life and extraordinary culture sacrifices part of his life to give us memory. This is the story of an election. This work is a reflection on that decision. The reader can choose between opening the eyes or closing them. Two approached him and repeated: "Do not leave us! He was surrounded by millions of individuals, with a common plea: "Stay brother!" But the corpse, alas! Until 2003, all his fiction had been written in French, using only Spanish for some of his biographical books. In that year, the first novel of Semprún written originally in Castilian, Twenty years and one day is published. He is also the author of the play Gurs, a European tragedy, concerning the refugee camp of this name and a version of The Trojan Women. 1969.- The second death of Ramón Mercader. 1977.- Autobiography of Federico Sánchez. 1993.- Federico Sánchez says goodbye to you. 1994.- Writing or life. 2001.- I will live with his name, he will die with mine. 2005.- The European man, together with Dominique de Villepin. 1966.- The war is over from Alain Resnais. 1970.- The confession of Costa-Gavras. 1972.- The attack of Yves Boisset. 1974.- The two memories, script and direction. 1974.- Stavisky by Alain Resnais. 1975.- Section spéciale de Costa-Gavras. 1978.- The southern routes of Joseph Losey. 1983.- The disasters of Mario Camus's war. 1964.- Formentor Award for The Long Journey. The two memories, in Cartaphilus. But this interview is also a tour of the work of a great of our letters, of whom this month Tusquets will publish his new novel, Twenty years and one day. That freedom, perhaps the most gratifying, was the least deep and the most casual. Every Sunday, after passing the list and finishing the morning's work, from about three o'clock in the afternoon until the time of the "fire cover" in which you had to return to the barracks, you could do what you wanted. what I wanted Most of the deportees were going to the barracks to sleep, to recover their strength. Which is logical and understandable. Those who had political affinities met to talk about the political reality and the march of the war, and to exchange all kinds of information. From time to time we even organize small cultural events, recitation of poetry, very small and simple things that served to encourage us. There were other groups that did not meet for political reasons, but for religious reasons. This would be the shallow classification of the talks on Sundays and that space of freedom. On another scale, the same happened in the latrines, where the SS guards did not usually enter. A kind of responsibility of the witness, to say "This can not be the testimony that remains of the fields", is not it? In the same 45, or 46, I tried to write about my experience in the field, put it in order and structure it through writing. I was twenty years old, and I thought that it was not essential to keep me in that memory... This reflection is just the plot of writing or life. It was better to look forward and choose life, which at that time was the life of the refugee, with the hope of ending Franco's dictatorship, the active struggle. But when I stopped writing that story I did not write anything. I wanted to be a writer since childhood, but it would have seemed indecent to write a love story or an epic of resistance. Not being able to narrate this experience of the fields cut me off from being a writer. For me, in that sense, politics was ideal. Above all that is intended, believes or revolutionary self-proclaimed, because it is always in the future. You do not need the personal analysis of the past at all, or at least you think so. Everything is in the morning, although the term is indefinite: tomorrow we finish with Franco, tomorrow we will do this or that... So politics was for me a great therapy of life. It is no coincidence that when this vital engine is over, because I am already strongly disagreeing with the line of the Communist Party, the literary possibility returns. My disagreement with the party certainly began before, but I continued for some time for fidelity to the comrades of the underground and because at the time of Franco's dictatorship, however wrong and very Stalinized, it was useful. But there came a moment when I realized that useful as it was, it could not be the party of transition or post-Francoism, because it was not a democratic party. And I thought: "But who can understand and understand what was happening in that field with such a story? This has to be structured ", and that is the origin of the attempt to write and the immediate verification that what was impossible seventeen years earlier was very easy for me. First forgetting was therapy, now memory was therapy. I keep the original manuscript, the first hundred pages, and it is perfectly clear that it is written in Madrid, because the typewriter I work with does not have accents in French. I think the reason is that I lived the experience in French, as a resistance, and that the book came out in the vital language of the event. And despite living in a concentration camp, with the most unimaginable daily horrors and the greatest suffering, the history of Auschwitz seems implausible, it is hard for them to even believe that such a camp exists. Within the concentration camp system there were graduations. Exterminations and genocides have always been in history, but one of the novelties that makes the extermination of the Jewish people so unique is the industrialized aspect that it has. Industrial modernity applies to this purpose: how trains arrive, how their arrivals are scheduled, how gas chambers should work. That is, the very fact that a whole population is systematically chosen is unique in history and is, of course, the fundamental fact. It is a rationalized madness, a very strange and peculiar madness. The extermination camps are all concentrated in Poland, because it is far away. In addition, it is a safe area from the point of view of the Nazi dictatorship, and that is why the chain of crematories and gas chambers is established, which do not exist in the other camps. There was, then, the global idea that they were terrible fields. I do not know so much the history of other countries and its relationship with the story of their surviving Jews. Society did not want to remember that, since it forced collective self-criticism. In other countries this percentage is lower and even much lower, but always in a heroic and individual or almost individual way. It was, then, a matter that was not talked about in France because it would have demanded a very strong self-criticism from the Vichy regime, a process that has been very slow. In a very different circumstance, the war in Algeria has not been talked about, and the atrocities of war and the authorized use of torture have taken decades to come to light. For its part, the Jewish community did not speak either. She was ashamed, it seemed to her that they had been deported from second class, what was called in France "racial deportees". What I want to say is that they did not rebel collectively and that embarrassed them. I'm not saying there was not someone who spoke before, but it was a voice in the desert. That community, which has suffered the greatest punishment in the history of humanity, needed to regain dignity in order to speak. This is both exciting and perverse. And after its liberation, being inside the zone of Soviet occupation, the perverse thing is that it becomes again a camp of prisoners. As if the present that you lived, despite all its uniqueness, was only an instant of a much broader and more terrible history. I think it is important to underline it, so that it is known. In this field there are, at first, small Nazi leaders locked up. Then, as time goes by, opponents of the Soviet occupation regime begin to enter the field. I keep two letters from two imprisoned women who explained to me how the Soviet camp worked. They also build a museum within the field, but totally sectarian. A new museum has been made, and another has been built for the Stalinist camp. I think it's an emblematic place in Europe. In several books he has referred to his identity as Spanish. When I get there I am twenty years old, and I am totally Frenchified from the cultural point of view, controversial term in Spain that I say without complexes. In Buchenwald, the Spanish language returns to me, and with it my condition of Spanish. Why I'm going to write in a language where I'm banned, when everyone here is wanting to publish books of mine in French, including Gallimard, the publisher of the highest post. But Spanish is not only my mother tongue, but also as the fundamental language. If it were not for the countryside, it would probably have been integrated into French culture, perhaps with a romantic touch of Spanish memory. Nobody knew exactly what was I in terms of official documentation. In all his autobiographical books his passion for poetry appears. As a form of knowledge and a pillar of its formation in youth, as a space of intimate and shared resistance in the countryside, poetry is at the center of its vital discourse. When I was a kid and started writing, I started writing poetry, because deep down I wanted to be a poet. Poetry seems to me an extraordinarily strong and lively form of literary expression. From her you can say everything and do everything. I have that love with poetry, but I also have a terrible problem with it, and that is that I was a young religiously communist poet. If I do not publish it in that book, nobody knows. I thought I had no right to criticize anyone in their communist faith without first making my own criticism. I publish them at the moment when I renounce communism, so that it is known where one comes from and what was the need for that adhesion. Because of that period I have completely abandoned poetry. I have never written poems again; Actually, I exaggerate: I have never published or made known to anyone a single poem. That's why I've never been able to write poetry. My ode to Stalin ended my poetry. Neruda could survive his, I could not. I keep reading poetry, and I try to keep up with German, Spanish and French poetry. The only thing I do today poetically, in a totally private way, that nobody will ever see, are translation exercises. For the curiosity of knowing what universe is that, Kafkaesque, complicated, with laws not written but absurdly imperative. Curiosity is the condition of survival that Primo Levi emphasizes so much. I can not resist asking for an anthropological definition of evil. Evil is one of the possibilities that man gives to being free, it is a byproduct of human freedom. As long as man is free, he will also be free to do evil. Both, with being serious, do not stop being everyday or family aspects that are not going to change the face of the world. It is not about saying, as atheists think, that God does not exist. Let's be finer philosophically: God is not but exists. While there are men, there will be God. That is the meaning of Marx's phrase of the opium of the peoples. It does not mean to end God, but to discover that man needs God and will continue to need him as long as he exists. It is impossible to create a society where there are no bankruptcies, dislikes, existential gaps, deficiencies that God perfectly comes to fulfill and fulfill. And I've seen more often than not to do the latter. The social conditions of evil and good also exist. There is education and families that lead on one side and others on the other. There is a metaphysical postulate and then its exercise in certain social circumstances. But let us never think that a society can be educated or re-educated in such a way that evil disappears. The new man of Soviet society is a totalitarian dream. Another affirmation of his, controversial and suggestive, is that life is not the supreme value. In a first level of the discussion, it is evident that life is the supreme value. Without life there is nothing: neither this conversation, nor a debate about the future of the world, or anything. Without life there is no consciousness and therefore there is nothing. I do believe that there are values for which life has to be given, and freedom is one of them. And if we do not risk our lives for freedom we will be slaves. There are just wars that assure you a just peace. Memory is always preferable between forgetfulness and memory, but what kind of memory? From classical Greece there is this dialectic between memory and oblivion. Of course it is better to remember not to do it, but there are cases in which silence is also positive. First we must calm the memory in order to close a reconciliation and a national cohesion. A period of forgetting, programmed and defined, is perfectly legal and understandable. In the Spanish case There has not been a prohibition as such, much less a law. There has been a transition process, implicitly based on amnesty and amnesia. I think that this was positive, since, in a civil war like the Spanish one, if we started demanding accounts and demanding, we did not get away from that. You can argue if there has been no delay, but it is logical that there is a certain delay and even a reluctance to return to the past. You see it in the plot of the movies, and in many other things. It has something positive that suddenly arises that demand, if it becomes a spirit of justice, although it can be negative if it becomes a spirit of revenge. Ideally, history should be as transparent as possible, since concord is established on the basis of knowledge and not on ignorance. It seems logical and beautiful. I will answer you with a concrete example. A comparison like this does not help us: we do not understand better what Franco was, nor do we understand what Aznarism is today. This comparison trivializes the hardness of the Franco regime and discourages the complete analysis of Aznarism. Learning from the past is necessary and you can and must learn a lot, but not about the use of mechanical analogy. That is the propaganda hose. Milosevich is a product of communism, let's start with that. It is not a product of Hitlerism or Nazism, nor of post-facism. He is a former head of communism. That in his doctrine springs again things like ethnic cleansing means that the racist drives are above the parties, which is more serious. So no analogies, because they do not help to understand either the past or the present. The communist faith is erased from history, but manifests itself in rebirths and behaviors that may have their origin in that faith. For example, in the anti-globalization or anti-globalization movement we have outbreaks of Leninism. Of course if you question them they will tell you that they do not think like that. Capitalism can survive imperialism and find new ways and acquire new faces. That is exactly what we are experiencing now. It regenerates and reappears in new ideas and other ways to extract surplus value, and even for this it appropriates historical flags of the left. We are not, then, in the supreme and final phase of the capitalist system and in the face of its decomposition. And this is in the anti-globalist discourse. Another Leninist concept, the idea that one day may be the day of the revolution, of the qualitative leap, remains messianic in many of the anti-globalization movements. Although this is also evolving, it is fair to say, and even the title of the movement has changed from anti to that of alterglobalizers, a semantic change that can be fundamental. In many of the theories of the critique of current capitalism there is the horror of the market economy, the "tyranny of the market". The movement of Bové in France says that "the world is not a commodity". You can not end the market. Nobody will end up with the market any more than the Bolsheviks did: they did end the market and so it was. Let's think it over, let's learn from the past and understand our time. We must not forget, of course, that there can be a market economy and no freedom, as under the Pinochet dictatorship in Chile. That is why I would say that it is a necessary but not sufficient condition, and this is something that has not reached the left. Until 2003, all his fiction had been written in French, using only Spanish for some of his biographical books. In that year, the first novel of Semprún written originally in Castilian, Twenty years and one day is published. He is also the author of the play Gurs, a European tragedy, concerning the refugee camp of this name and a version of The Trojan Women. Birds of contempt flew And bombers were howling in the night. I was Sergius Stepan, and I dreamed of going back to the sea. In the trenches the day with corn butterflies, with doves of notebooks and dreams. On the night of howitzers, I did not want to kill. I answered only: "return of the night". And I cried as before for the loss of the angora cat, For the breakage of the mechanical toy In our celestial house of colony. I cried for the death of the father, a thousand years ago, On the snail river. For the kite that broke me up at school. Win to write ridiculous crying trades: "Very dear sir: I renounce being a soldier". Dear Sirs: Sink into the bottom of the fucking night. " Crying Throw overboard the steel yataghan, Officer's uniform and star. I returned to the simple works of living To love and to be a man. He was only four years old when an achile almost ends his life with a kick in the head. I worked from the early hours of the night until dawn. And coincidentally, that same night the famous Revolution broke out. On his return he returned to work at El Universo and rejoined the Vincentian classrooms. The generous literary friendships of then. And it ran through illuminated images and hieratic symbols, with enormous grandeur. Then he had to make a living in jobs outside his specialty. From October 1951 to July 1966, he worked as an employee of Cía. So he worked simultaneously during the day and night, almost twelve hours to complete a meager monthly budget. Writer who lives and acts in order to understand and feel the human... irony in response to contradictions and paradoxes of human living. The short verse collects the fleeting impressions of the traveler. Work continues on the development of a language that adapts the ancient splendours of the song to the chronicle of a false, dislocated, absurd today. About this book, one hundred pages, wrote Rodriguez Castelo:... tempts a lyric of more direct communication. Matters of the man in the street, in lyrical language that touches the man in the street. In the ceremony of possession he stressed that he had accepted the functions so that the Nucleus would return "... to the hands of the civilians who created it". His last poems of 1986, is No. His height is low, brown, courteous manners, talk serene and with power of conviction. He has never joined any political party, although he is frankly leftist. He criticizes the ability of those who have held the Chair of Literature for more than thirty years. He is one of the poets of the highest quality and had the breath of the country, at the same time as the narrator of excellent texts. Maiden returns to the tab returns to the bird that does not know how to mop and put again the entrails of love in the site because you do not want to die forever of the painted bird. You know, my friend: something goes bankrupt, and you put the most electric disc of the Merry Vallenatos the coolest charanga and only nothing sounds to hollow the heart. Things of the bandoneon... you forgive! They gave you a true god but you reduced it to stamps and signs. They gave you father, mother, love me and family, but you turned them into friendships, passing knowledge, greetings and cards. When it was time for love, you said: time is for visits birthday time now is the time to have a drink amen. Little god, you were nevertheless full of love. You put borders and barbed wire. You were full of jumps and joys. You placed doctorates and titles and faces without traces and differences for your peers. You carried it inside, and yet you were still looking for it as a small god, a little bird singer, wizard whistler who insisted on not knowing how to whistle. One day you discovered that the light was coming by opening the words door after door, then one by one you were killing everyone so as not to be happy. You saw from dawn the round, damp light of the star and you closed the suicidal window of the man you are. He put in clean the mustache of memories he took shine to the box of resignations smoothed the sternum and the clavicle and to finally die he cried alive! Already solved to die. Long live the parrot! He said, and live the dog and its little flea and the fifteen girls smelling of hidden flowers and that the ninety girls live. and man never died again. I say that the man with the right to die should be imprisoned and hungry with the right to the dogmas of the church. The woman with the right to privacy on sidewalks and in hospitals. Policemen and soldiers, confident prelates and officers: live the blue boot and the golden coat of the parties. Long live the shiny metal teeth with which you chew the home, the private bed and the silent stove, live our respect for the one who never quite died. Shout it in the difficult tenderness of the hippies with electric manes with blouses of oranges and strawberries and aggressive bluyes tattooed on the legs. Sing it, but then the police dogs hunters and hooded and marines say love to the rhythm of Vietnam and atomic bombs. And I need to know that you are close, that your lamp watches, punctually, near me. I need your glass for the bad shadow of nightmares, your walnut staff for the descent of absurd dreams, your disenchanted smile and your hands on my hair. Desolate, from the bad night, I break my fists in infinite doors and knock, and no one opens me. Poet, narrator, university professor and editorialist of the newspaper El Universo. Novel: The faces of fear; The prisoners of the night. Tags: carmen vascones, Tuesday, February 22, 2011 Art and culture. Collaborator of newspapers and magazines at national and international level, his cultural journalism was characterized by being suitable, inspiring and destined to the integration of the universal culture. His name and work are included in important anthologies made in the country and abroad; He gave recitals in different cities of America and, likewise, lectures on topics of universal literature. The heart does not tremble the brain without lamps is populated with infinite ambiguous deaths. The sea unstoppable and banished. Your brown eyes, your golden arms, the glow of your statue, my undressed heart loving them. No pretentious streets to know their names. There are proletarian routes where it goes, sleepwalking and perennial, life... Yesterday I saw the heart of deserted caves. I saw clothes that do not cover even the shadow of a sex, hanging on shoes and black strings; the tanned face of a naked boy sleeping under the snow laurel of his chest. to the President... But the stones, suburbanly, laughed in sorrow. And the air laughed more than them. Here also the lee of my watches: the fecal depression of a faith that is extinguished, of a love that does not fit in my abandonment. Understand me, O You, conservative of that den that is the world where only money sows and reaps. Take this fatigue that runs in my veins with a final contempt as pure as crying. I do not want to know how much I loved, from whom I achieved my faith as a "friend" or emblem for whom I raised my fight like a blinded titan. Take instead this scorching light: my only faith in the shit of your days, my demon proud to feel that I'm Alone! With a Valium 10 your being could excite the angel of anguish and turn that wizened smile into a rattle of panic joy. With a Valium 10, just one... And launch yourself in a rocket towards the moon after a sleepless night like this. The belly is a streetcar with daggers. The street: a gloomy and anarchist bridge of tears. When she was ten years old, she wrote verses and flipped through the didactic books she found, imitating her in everything and even doing it when she corrected the thesis. Thirteen years old he suffered the pain of losing his father. My mother called her on the phone and the next afternoon I showed up in the garden of her villa with my booklet of poems. Also from that time are some of his historical sonnets. Ileana was a very intelligent young girl, active and of great personality. Since then I think that between the intellectual and the rest of the population there is a very large cultural vacuum that keeps them separated. The edition of 1,500 copies was given to me and as I sold to S. 50 each copy, it was my great help. It was the first time I was earning big money with my poetry. In 1959 "The luminous statue" appeared. The part of Ileana called "It would seem that I sing", "with new hardships and tears of anguish and pain, ominous or sordid words, the development of sardonic soils". There he commented, he made bibliographical criticism and selected poetic productions. On any Saturday in 1965, the following event happened to him, which, by absurdity, is worth mentioning as a literary anecdote. The Panchos sang "If loving you is sin" and other songs more. She, with a lot of grace, followed the rope reminding him that he was married, but the poet answered that it did not have the slightest importance and addressing Ileana added, "Tell me that you accept me and I will immediately divorce." Such output caused the hilarity of those present, especially Ileana, who considered his great admirer and colleague very much. Finally the matter was taken to the joke and ended with a well-loaded cup of coffee, which dissipated the romantic-morning outbursts of the famous Fakir. Rodríguez Castelo has said that once again, the sonnet is a dam for that bitter hangover. 2,000 monthly salary, and entered "Culture and Fraternity". Selection of his best previous poems and other unpublished ones, among these last ones, the one that gave name to the poems. The 70 passed very ill with discomfort to the liver and the tonsils and retired of all activity for two years. He left, then, the newspaper and the Editorial del Nucleo, was secluded. On the 79th his "Selected Poems" came out in the No. From then on his mother's health began to decline. Ileana took charge of the domestic chores and became a full-time nurse over the months, with a truly admirable dedication. They were years of continuous sacrifices and inner religiosity, because he accepted his mission with joy, coming from God. Ileana was very stunned and moved to Huancavilca and the Tenth, where she was reunited through books and music. The Universe called her back to her ranks, to write biweekly on issues related to women and culture. I limit myself to chatting alone for a moment with the melted honey. His average height, white face, gray black hair, wore glasses and for some time he suffered from the thyroid and swollen. He read, he read a lot, he liked to listen to good music, enjoying the quiet of his home. In 1997 she underwent surgery for cancer to the tissue lining the stomach and did not want to undergo any further treatment. In 2000, some of his productions were published in Spain, but at the end of the year he relapsed into his ailments. I just talk alone for a moment. " Keeping that tone alive is an undeniable requirement. The criticism of the passing times has always tried to approach the sense of loneliness that Ileana presents as a characteristic of her aesthetic personality. That "I do not return" and that "conversing alone" is not refuge or absence. It is a permanent search for transcendence, in which poetry gives lightness to all meanings, so that they do not go deep just because of their weight and penetrate into intimacy by original purity, by authenticity. Ileana, you do not ignore infinity. She died shortly after surrounded by her numerous friends, handing out a few jewels. His work "dresses in an elementary but sober and magnificent way in which a rare talent is noticed, a predisposition to the perfect, with message, meaning and aesthetic background. The ingenious combination of words and clauses give rise to a brilliant sardonism within contemporary poetics, anticipating this trend. It also has a proportion in the tropes ". For all this she has been described as "the first of the serious and consistent poetesses of the last generation, for having undertaken a new poetics with a personal art that goes from the classic sonnet to the free stanza of anarchistic tendency ". He was going through a moment of religiosity and inner peace. Certainly, we are flesh and blood born of love. Fridge aside, I bake in my own fire I am a woodcutter. Those who are and not at the crossroads of breath and silence. Clean water, water gets dirty. Bebe says, so that your life does not dry up. You have to read this brave book. They let open the bars of memory, scratch the bricks of memory. What will that be of I am in everyone? The guardian of life, lets arrive at their pesamientos. His ninety and peaks of years testify to a man who does not give up or boast of anything. His gypsy father and his dark mother resgistered him in the act of love, faith and passion. She knew that the letters were in her hands. The gypsy in love with the beautiful. Death took him when leoncio hardly uttered his first words of "love of life". The image of the child running within reach of the hug that does not arrive. Life went on without drenching him with curses. And he is respected as the man who has managed to be and leave what he could alone and with others who are no longer. The youth respects this man who still works with the truth to costs. The creation alleviates the anguish with finitude. It is a century in which movement and speed become a substantial part of our lives, where the rhythm of the production of goods increases qualitatively, and all those forms of consumption change the life, the customs and the character of people. Under the regime of feudal economy born of the Conquest, some living remnants of the indigenous communist economy still exist in the sierra. He also criticized the principle of free competition and later communism. Elected member of the National Convention, I try to establish a social reform for workers through mutualism. Later, as a practical agitator and a revolutionary, he will continue to influence the labor and trade union movement and will found different revolutionary anarchist cells, especially around the Mediterranean Sea. 3.- Political evolution of a revolutionary poet. Here the working day was twelve hours, and more, and no one had the right to protest, and dreams about trade union rights were unrealistic for young people. " Also remember, as once to that hacienda came some anarcho-syndicalist leaders to organize the first union cells and train and shake them to conquer the eight-hour day. An important advance of this Group was its permanent contact with other Peruvian poets, already consecrated by critics and also belonging to other social strata, who were invited for readings or for conversations. Another important aspect of this group is the intellectual literary production, either as magazines, such as "Singing and Singing" or in the creations of personal works. 5.- About the object of poetic work in proletarian poetry a) The object of literary works will be directed against the "semi-feudal" and capitalist relations of exploitation of social wealth. The object-literary subject, receives new names, mutates in the form and becomes varied. And this already mutated literary object-subject receives or reproduces itself in other expressions and in new twists and words. These books give us an x-ray of what is Peru in one of its edges, and drives the aspirations of the classes that produce wealth. Also from the hands of this mechanic-artificer and self-taught, verses made symphonies form canvases vertically or horizontally according to their emotions. 2) Proletarian literature, even from its embryonic state, already assumes a social responsibility towards Peruvian society. Its content is not courting the taste of the landlords and the bourgeoisie, but questioning property, exploitation and wage slavery relationships and trying to put these realities before another world of justice and emancipation. This literature has a roots and is parallel in the tradition of the Andean culture and has many common things that resemble it with indigenist literature. Moreover, the affluent classes have always opposed not integrating it into books for teaching in Peruvian schools or colleges. 7) Neopositivist, metaphysical or functional or scientistic analysis method, is still the most usual for the analysis of literature. These reductionist and anti-historical methods operate more on the forms than on the content. The nature of these analyzes still dislocates the Peruvian reality as a whole within the process to integrate the own, the alien and the diverse, and for that reason, only presents this reality in a partial or reduced form. The poetic world that inhabits me has been a drainage to the verb. interview by mariuxi lion to carmen váscones to disappear then wrapped in the stark solitude of an absolute merciless: the passion of the one that was another in the decentered word of his body.
The result was solid, reserved for the most qualified, with a magnificent general and labor bachelor, a formidable professional training and a selective university education. And some very hard tests of access to the different levels. Until 1970, at the end of the Regime, the first changes were not introduced in the wake of the push of pedagogy and the psychology of education as miraculous specialties able to establish the famous 'learning without effort'. The demonization of the revalidation. The demonization of the humanities. The general approval or the disappearance of 0 as a note. The devaluation of: The effort, merit and capacity of both students and teachers. The over dimension of: A canon of values based on consumer capacity and public success. Let each one add or eliminate symptoms, to their good knowledge and understanding. Of the linguistic immersion already written here of continuous, so better not overwhelm them in this occasion. The one of the Spanish State, not the one that can be arbitrarily dispensed by religious congregations ». Today, less than a century later, students do not fall down run over but lie paralyzed in an inert dream in the arms of an educational system designed by the religious congregations of constructivism and official pedagogy. His role as Affect Theology has disguised the new function of the public school as the lay salvation of pure souls: containing bags of idle subjects at pre-employment age. The transmission of technical and academic knowledge ceased to be objective objective of the institution. Reached the economic and demographic recovery, the massification of education went from being the solution to be the problem. The number of graduates increased to constitute a surplus that caused certain adjustments. We resorted to formal universal literacy. The model was legitimated by Pedagogy. So the loss of prestige of knowledge and, by extension, of the teacher who refuses to be a mere monitor of obligatory and subsidized leisure and regulated entertainment, is an inexorable consequence. The schools are part-time and entertainment centers. The teacher must be an actor on a daily basis and play a specific role with a teaching function for the intellectual and academic good of his students. In parallel, politics requires action and a certain degree of theatricality. But when the foundations on which the role of the professor and that of the politician are based suffer a traumatic shock for economic, technological or demographic reasons, paper demands to be modified. In this critical stage, overreaction opens the door. The resulting pedagogical populism precedes populism in success political. And it enjoys a better image, perhaps because it is invisible, because it transversally pervades almost all electoral options. The victims of a reduced education to fun à la carte are students in general and, especially, those who can not access private education. A public school that does not select causes the economy, or other factors, to do so. Populism, whose gestation takes place as a rupture with workerism, is classist and fatal for the less privileged. An obvious example is that of the University, which stopped being selective for what was unfeasible without becoming a face for the students. It operates as a superstructural, hollow and effective screen, and as a rhetorical justification for a squalid school of content and saturated with hormones and immediate happiness. It is typical of opulent societies given to a psychologistic individualism, to a consumerist and electoral narcissism, which favors autists absorbed by mobile devices. The junk school is not a dysfunction or an anomaly. It is a necessary consequence of the academic emptying of the institution when assuming a reception function. The state school of the nation states gives its last breath despite the resistance that still persists. With a flabbergasted palaver and such angelic slogans that few dare to argue, offering a class egalitarianism, illusory freedoms and a universality that only guarantees mediocrity, the degradation of the school has been consummated. And under the neon lights of progressive topics, the achievement of condemning students with fewer resources, unstructured families and immigrants to academic, intellectual, economic and labor indigence has been fulfilled. This destruction of education occurred with a large investment. To more economic means, more personnel and better infrastructures, worse education. A more formal political freedoms more widespread material ignorance. The phenomenon seems irreversible. If the juridical and ideological bases of this devastation are not discarded, nothing else will be achieved but to enquer its inertia. And, while the negotiation does not discuss the ideological postulates of the triumphant Pedagogy and do not impose purely technical principles, it will be impossible to stop that free fall. Nothing suggests that the result of the alleged educational agreement is alien to ideology or strategic calculations. It is possible to suggest technical measures that contain the debacle, far from the partisan and theatrical fights. Any pact that renounces to rebuild that institution endowing it with its own function will perpetuate its decadence, hidden in the screens by the televised pose. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. Nor, no matter how much the militants shout, Podemos will be what it once was. And when they find out what is happening in Spain they throw their hands in their heads. And in that cowardice and lack of determination continue. El Correo, 200218 Puigdemont and the trial in absence. It is daring that such an infectious replication of the original cell can be considered a patrimony of humanity. Among the first decisions of brothers and friends, when children, is to give a secret code that others do not understand. The only sense that languages have in this still puerile stage of humanity. The unfortunate linguistic proliferation, and all the sentimental sentimental lies that it entails, must be approached in political terms in a realistic way. It does not seem sensible a regime of linguistic fines for speaking languages, as others establish by not speaking them. But proliferation should not continue to enjoy prestige. Every time a language dies, register it and celebrate it with a beautiful roaring onomatopoeia. But if there were, I would give you the miserable interest it would have. The only error of the Esperantists was to add another language to the lethal stock. Unlike the myth of Icarus in the one of Babel, sin is not the main thing, but punishment. Is awesome that the chaplains have managed to pass it off as virtue. There is a great definition about linguism in the dictionary of the language, experts: "Sexual deviation that consists of fixing some part of the human body or some garment related to it as an object of excitement and desire". So it is undoubted that the proposal of Cs to reduce vernacular requirements to merit is a very small step, although in the right direction, which is that of extinction. The animals exhibit banners and good manners demanding the masculinization of their names. I remember this joke that Isabel, his widow, has spread now through social networks. The Academy must sanction what has been extended in popular speech, in addition to fix, clean, give splendor and maintain the unity of the language that in 24 nations speak more than 500 million people as their mother tongue. After English, Spanish is the second international language in the world. Today, in most of the Spanish-speaking nations, basketball, volleyball or handball are common terms. But almost nobody uses football. So the Academy rectified and included in the Dictionary the term imposed by popular use: football. Some macho expressions can and should be deleted from the Dictionary. Employed by writers of relief throughout the centuries, the reader must find its meaning in the Dictionary. On the other hand, the language is not sexist. However, few professions that end in a masculinized in o. In the Cortes, deputy feminizes deputy, senator in senator, but congressman does not masculinize in congress. Hence, Spanish citizens living in autonomous communities with their own language can be privileged if they become bilingual. Therefore, everything that is done in this sense should be praised and encouraged, provided that a specific language policy does not mean in the long run the submission of one language to the other, thus undermining the objective of bilingualism. It was precisely this condemnable orientation that prevailed during the previous regime, where that stupid slogan "speaks the language of the Empire" was in force. Reasoning that is outlined and more specifically in article 3. And other articles also refer, directly or indirectly, to the use of the different Spanish languages. Well, in this context it is in which we must propose the solution to the conflict between Spanish and Catalan that, as a continuation of a series of protests, has just been raised by the Supreme Court. That is, the purpose of this policy is to carry out an unbalanced bilingualism in favor of the preponderance of Catalan, based above all on the teaching in this language of all subjects. In the first place, the Constitution establishes unambiguously that all Spaniards have a duty to know Spanish, whereas it is only a right to use the other Spanish languages within the autonomous community itself. And the basic homologation in education is precisely that it is done in the official language of the State, which does not imply, far from it, that the proper language of the different communities is not taught. Certainly, the teaching of Catalan is a constitutional right, but not teaching in Catalan. Such reasoning is what the Constitutional has been up to now, with some obvious mistake, as we shall see. Subsequently, the TC in other judgments indicates that "in accordance with arts. Finally, two more sentences do not recognize the two appeals of amparo in which the right of parents to claim that their children receive education in the language of their preference, in this case, the Valencian. The previous text is literally the same as an article that I published here on February 28, 1994, that is, 24 years ago. Consequently, leaving the current crisis will only be possible through a great revulsive political. But that is another matter. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. The reality is very different from what was exposed as an official discourse. It has no waste: Book third. Affiliates, participation, transparency and internal control. From the census of affiliates and affiliates. Transfers and changes in the form of affiliation Article 445. From the step of affiliate to direct aa militant - Article 446. From the step of sympathizer to militant or affiliate to direct to - Article 447. From the step of militant to affiliate to direct to - Article 448 From the passing of militants or affiliate to direct to sympathizer. That is, a whole series of steps as in Easter, but in crossword. Take the great trouble of trying to read even one of the aforementioned articles. But do not let the partridge get dizzy, tempting you to immerse yourself in the hieroglyphic pages. That is, it ends the internal control bodies and intervenes in the federations of the party that suits him. Because they do not miss, on the other hand, the territorial nomenclature applied to the internal structure of their federations, which are differentiated between 'regional' and 'nationality'. All underlined the sanchist folly of sponsoring a nonexistent 'plurinationality', with first and second autonomy. As he continues like this, he will achieve that in the next elections he will be voted only by his staunchest militants and not the rest of the traditional voters of Spanish socialism. The militancy, what are you c'est? What with a certain bombast was called in the socialist family "the maximum organ of the party enters congresses" has been laminated between two instances: the general secretary and militancy. The first is the condensation of power; the second, an entelechy. The Socialist Party has never been a party of militants, but of affiliates. The new rules, say Ferraz, "build a stronger hierarchical order: The higher body will have the capacity to decide and control over the lower one". It will be the militants or affiliates who will define the government agreements or how the socialist deputies will vote in the inauguration of candidates from outside the party. His most distant antecedent was in 'All Power for the Soviets', about whose practical applications it is not necessary that we extend here. Iceta said that "this makes a better match, more in the hands of the militants, who are their true co-owners." Lambán, more classic, opined that the owners are not the militants, but the citizens. The previous time that members thought they were members was in May 1979, at the 28th Congress. Four months of manager Carvajal and the affiliates surrendered to Felipe. There was no militancy, but they had a leader. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. It is, then, terrible the story of the collective cowardice policy in the current Spanish democratic stage of these 40 years. Without elapsing week without bleeding examples. Or of the Note of the Catalan prelates against the preventive detention of the Catalan coup plotters and in favor of the "moral legitimacy" of separatism. In short, works are loves and not good reasons. Santiago González in sublo, 180218 La militancia, qu'est-ce que c'est? El Mundo, 170218 Without privacy, there is no freedom. Project Syndicate, 170218 How scary to keep the law! Note of the prelates, 160218. Roures is a Marxist who knows little of Marxism. He knows how to do business and money with the show. A long line shrunk under black umbrellas waited with impatient devotion in front of the sentry box. It was already night and they could not distinguish their faces or their age or their sex. I thought: they are the corpses of the Arctic Gulag, freed from their ice tomb. And I was happy to see them fill the auditorium, protagonists as readers of something more than an editorial success. They are many copies of a fat, dense, academic and also moving book because of its delicate biographical background and its raw social utility. Federico not only guides the tender Spaniards of the instagram generation through the cellars of the totalitarian century. The phrase was used by Truman Capote to write a wild, sexy and unfinished novel; but it is not exact. Today in Spain it is the neglected prayers that cause the most damage. And those that explain a phenomenon that is beginning to spread: the spontaneous mobilization of citizens and their search for answers outside the political parties. The success of Federico's book is an example. And a phrase of his serves as a link. However, the political and media crust follows its own and the greña. What they all did in a chorus - included editorialists - is to be congratulated that Justice works well. Imperiofobia and black legend, the essay that has turned a Malagasy high school teacher into a star lecturer. Elvira Roca's books are not sold, they are ingested. Prozac for depressed Spaniards. Or rather tired of the litany about the corrupt, fanatical and fachita Spain. The one that hoots not only the old enemies of Spain, external and internal, but also referents of the good democratic society. Sectarianism is the gasoline of domestic hispanophobia. Fourth example, in front a genius. And the atmosphere was warm, complicit, human. Albert - humor at the service of reason - made a big policy without the pasty language of politicians. Against the xenophobia of differential features. Against the indoctrination turned into dressage. And especially for the closure of TV3 and an education in freedom. Of the second we stay for the moment in the box of exit. The government babbled yesterday that it "will guarantee" the right to choose the vehicular language in education in Catalonia. A succession of sublime scenes, of the intertwined dance of the young ladies of Avignon to the rite of coronation of the graffiti artists, achieves the cultural miracle of Picasso's demystification. Aware of its impact, pending the viral, Planet has closed this week the purchase of rights in Spanish. Until now, no Spanish party has had the courage but the strategic intelligence to fight the new collectivist tyranny that seeks to impose itself under the untouchable label -puritan! - of feminism. Sooner or later they will have to do it. And if you do not see how far the tide has come. Next March 8 there will be "women's strike". The conveners-a red, red fan-do not just pretend that women do not go to work. They also demand a consumer strike of feminine products: come girls, all cuperas, gabrielas and primitives. A care strike: let the old woman deal with her Alzheimer's. And we need to know if a strike of zeal. It is not a pro-woman strike but anti-human. Communism killed the individual. One hundred years, one hundred million dead. Many of those corpses had a double death: that of communism and that of nationalism. The Spanish elites, so postmodern, have forgotten the lesson. But something moves beneath the surface. No to the identity dictatorship of any kind. And yes to the freedom and responsibility that sustains it. They have decided to attend to their own prayers. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. El Gallo travels the country singing in bars, houses and the street itself, meeting old friends and meeting many others with whom he shares songs of all genres that Cuba has sheltered. On the roads and paths, on the roads and trains, and in the backyards of the crowded streets, music becomes part of his uprooted life and El Gallo turns magical moments into songs that he knows by heart. El Gallo travels the country singing in bars, houses and the street itself, meeting old friends and meeting many others with whom he shares songs of all genres that Cuba has sheltered. In his journey aimlessly our singer meets a family of musicians who receive him as a brother and accompany him on his way. With the human contact this man, whose only luggage is a guitar case and that is completely separated from the conventional social structure, opens and transforms. El Gallo discovers the laughter in the music, in the dance and in the improvisation and the emotion of the trumpets and the simple songs hummed by his friends. But little by little the lonely singer returns to reality. Life is not as fun as in songs nor as sweet as mystical songs. He has traveled all over Cuba but at the end of the dream he discovers that he has returned to the starting point, with the cigar hanging from his lips. Like oxidized dreams, freighters come and go in the port of Havana. Miguel del Morales - Unhappy 3. I wanted to get behind the scenes and discover all that was behind the clichés of this musical genre. And little by little I discovered that Cuban music consists of an attitude, a specific way of seeing life. Many times it is synonymous with partying but above all it is the brilliant reflection of the rebellious and original soul of its people. I instinctively sought to uncover its mysteries and observed its strength and vitality in order to reach the essence and thus better understand the magic that drives Cuban musicians, composers and performers. I went to Cuba without preconceptions, with nothing to prove. I simply let myself go, fascinated by the power of sound and the Cuban bolero. It was only when I saw the final version of the film that I understood what the painter Err meant by the phrase "What I do teaches me what I'm looking for". The Objective I wanted to direct a true cinematographic work with the same aspirations as my fiction films: to capture the moment, moments of harmony and environment, appearance and emotions. In short, I wanted to create a two-way street between what I saw and what they heard. I wanted to have the maximum availability to be present in magical moments and to be able to follow them and create continuous sequences, punctuated by life itself. Light luggage We are a team of the most basic. We shot with a handheld camera and a single microphone in a giraffe. I noticed that little by little my perspective of the film was confused with that of El Gallo. The main character is a physical presence and also a perspective. It was my debut behind a camera. It was like writing in the first person. But at the same time it seemed full of expectations and in the middle of an old struggle. We made the decision to accept him as he was, without thinking about the consequences. El Gallo had no one or nobody to wear or anything to wear. He imposed himself softly on the film while becoming a "Happy Cuba" traveler, a traveler who lets himself be carried by the current of life. For a time he was as lost as we were. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. Enjoy the goodness of Clint. "Score: ★★. Altapeli "is a stimulating film, almost a fiction essay, worthy of more attention than the one provoked by a ghostly premiere, surrounded by rumors. Is the author who has not wanted to show it to the press? Read movies "and it is there where the film is satisfactory because on the one hand it criticizes the militia bureaucracy and the dogmatic rigidity of religious education, and on the other it builds a pleasant and adult semblance about sacrifice as a humanistic vocation." So go ahead, say that your new movie has hardly anything of value, because Clint will continue doing what he wants. And I will go to see him at the cinema enchanted. "AtomS8. From the built-in soundtrack "Dark Day". Composed and interpreted by Iration. Composed and performed by Imagine Dragons. YouTube + • Trailer in English with subtitles in Spanish. It is not time for masterpieces anymore. In a way, it's another step in the farewell stage that perhaps started with Sully, another unexpected heroicity. In my opinion it is a challenge with all the sense and the interpretive result fits as a ring to the finger: another way of saying, yes, anyone can star something infinitely more complex and meritorious than a movie. By the way, the debate about the ways of educating and instructing in the discipline is intentionally secondary when it manages to inculcate the social group the importance of its defense, as a collective and as a culture. I stay, therefore, with that minimalist and simple cinema, which defends its naked narrative of all artifice regardless of its epoch-like reality. In Eastwood's words, also of "how normal people do extraordinary things". Enrique de Dinamarca dies, the prince who did not want to be a vase. El Mundo, 150218 Portavoza, friar, grief and penis. Speaker, friar, grief and penis. A large number of men face serious consequences for "not giving in" to the requests of their ex-partners in the divorce proceedings. It was an axiom that allowed us to face the main problem of feminism, which is to speak on behalf of all women. If the woman was a social class, women could not stop being feminists. And if some plague had only been, as in the case of workers and communists, for the lack of class consciousness. Another important clarification of Falcon's proposal affected power. If women were a class, they had to take power, in the manner of the bourgeoisie or the working class. Falcón had the merit of raising this indissolubility between feminism and power that today allows us to understand the movements of conventional feminism. This is good news, because it exemplifies better than nothing the real equality of the sexes in the West. But it also requires a critical evaluation of the methods that feminism employs in this already open, declared and legitimate struggle. The struggle for power supposes foul play. Some women are to shield themselves from any suspicion by invoking the name of the class enemy. The woman says macho as the worker said bourgeois. There is no day without an example, more or less crude, of that will. The replica of Cifuentes was the expected: the accusations had "a tremendously macho component." Up to now, this type of reactions has been appropriate to ventilate them, alluding to their implicit stupidity. Cifuentes' response is not the "apples I bring" type. He is anacoluto, without a doubt, but above all moral. Mrs. Cifuentes protects herself with the feminist bullet detente and still takes advantage of the fact that the left feminists took a few minutes to describe Granados as macho. Corruption in Spain is frightening, frightening. Immediately, more than a hundred women - artists and intellectuals, but not only - agreed to sign the text, including Catherine Deneuve. In the following days, the main newspapers around the world asked us for interviews. Suddenly other voices began to be heard besides the only one that was rising until then, which claimed to "denounce your pig" and fed the #metoo tsunami. The book, published in 2001, had a huge national and international success. During the controversy caused by the publication of our manifesto, I have been reproached several times for a statement of mine in the sense that I almost regret not having suffered a violation, to demonstrate by my example that it is possible to overcome the trauma. That's why it does not hurt to remember its content. I have had many couples; some of them have been friends of mine for years, others were unknown and have continued to be so, men who I met by chance and whom I barely caught sight of. From that way of living I keep the memory of exciting, happy, happy moments. Of course, once the sexual relationship began, some couple was disappointing or unpleasant and even disgusting. In those cases, the man only had access to my body, because my spirit was kept apart and did not retain any trace that could torment him. I even have a little theory about it: I think the woman who He receives the penetration he has that faculty more than the one who penetrates. If I had been brutally forced to have a sexual relationship with an aggressor or several aggressors, I would not have opposed resistance, thinking that the satisfaction of the impulse would appease the violent instinct. It also says that those who "kill the body can not kill the soul". Then it goes further and even supposes that, "victim of an irresistible violence", Lucrecia maybe "let herself be carried away by pleasure". He also gave the reason to another sentence of Lahaie: that "body and spirit do not always coincide". They say that it is common for rape victims to delay in reporting aggression for shame. This dissociation could help them overcome it. Our rostrum aspired only to remember that not all women react in the same way to male aggressions. We can not be reduced to one body, and I am surprised that the word resilience has been used so little in recent debates. Resilience is the ability of the human being to recover after a trauma. Rape trials are often long and very difficult for victims because, until justice is done, they are forced to remove their most painful memories. That is why it seems so important to me to say and repeat that there are other models apart from those that tie the psyche and the body, and that these models can help women locked in their suffering. Our manifesto gathered numerous signatures, many of them accompanied by spontaneous testimonies of women who had suffered sexual aggressions but who are glad of having been able to overcome them, sometimes even forget them, to live today a balanced love and sexual life. These women are a worthy example to follow. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. Consequently, the Convention entered into force, in Spain, this past February 1, 2018. Surgical interventions whose purpose is to modify the appearance of a pet or achieve other non-curative purposes and, in particular: a. The cut of the tail. c. The section of the vocal cords d. the removal of nails and teeth. Spain, then, has not made such a reservation, not even for the tail. And then we will complain if the animalists end up carrying the Fiesta de los Toros or the bulls in the street. Which will imply, impepinably, the gradual disappearance of countless dog breeds, as they cease to awaken the citizen interest that previously founded their survival. Great hunting dog, for swampy land. The approval of a law that develops the agreement is still lacking, but the first step has already been taken. These rules, in force in several European countries since 1987, consider the importance of companion animals "for their contribution to the quality of life" and the "moral obligation" of man to respect all creatures. In addition, it puts the accent on the "unconsciousness" of some people in the attitudes they have toward pets. Spain has adopted these premises, although it must develop them through a law, which is intended to be organic, to establish the corresponding penalties for those who fail to comply with the agreement. Rebound of abandonments However, although breach of the agreement is not yet officially punished by law, the effects of the adoption of the agreement are beginning to be noticed. These are young animals with some amputated limbs that are appearing, in large part, on the shoulders of roads. According to they explain, the fear has spread in the owners of dogs to which a member has been amputated, before the imminence of a regulation that punishes these practices. Adventure, also, that they are animals purchased during the holidays. Most are puppies that appear blindfolded or have difficulty moving their tails, a sign that they have been cut a few weeks ago. These practices are carried out when the animal is very young, with days of life in the case of the tail and with a month or two of age in the case of the ears. Some communities The increase of the abandonments is not taking place in all Spain, but in the autonomous communities that still do not punish the amputation in pet animals. For example, Madrid has not experienced this increase, to this day. After the change of government in 2011, there was a parliamentary vacuum on the matter until the government agreed to adhere to the agreement in 2015. However, the institutional blockade after the December 20 elections delayed again the progress of the proposal in Congress. Something that broke within a few days of being consummated, without really curdling. Only there is missing, therefore, a law that develops it. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. Needless to say, these high officials never ceased to repeat that where there is no can not be removed. For example: the cohesion of the State and the regenerative update of its model. The recomposition of the pension framework. Return the parents' authority to minors and attribute responsibility for their actions. The isolation of nationalism through pacts between the constitutional parties. The informative defense of the national symbols. The implementation of a constitutional educational model. Of a uniform and interrelated sanity. Of an austere, efficient public Administration. Who does not understand at this moment the importance of a model and a clear idea of Spain will be out of the game. For Wittgenstein "the correct linguistic expression of the miracle of the existence of the world is the existence of language itself". All electoral systems offer dilemmas and are a matter of degree. Feminist groups will denounce the judges who do not treat victims of abuse "with guarantees". There are jurists who disagree with the approach. It is not only that under the sweet rule of the 155 the Rajoy Government can dissolve the camera and call new elections, if it considers it convenient. It's been more than five years that the calendar does not run. It's that, actually, the calendar has not run for more than a decade. It was then when the crisis exploded against the Spanish autonomic regime. The situation, drastically considered, is that the autonomies have cloistered 80 percent of their budget in the current expenditure on education and health. And that the rest of the items are destined to the financing of the dependence, to the maintenance of the infrastructures, to other current expenses and to the service to the debt. The autonomies have become mutuals of service: their possibilities of doing politics are null. Among the reasons excavated to explain the Catalan pro-independence process are the economic ones, although only to underline the alleged Catalan discrimination. And it is likely that the economy has influenced the Process in a more subtly devastating way: eliminating the possibility of doing politics... running. The rise of the independence movement could be read as a desperate way to return to politics by some elites without occupation or perspective to have it again in a long time. The disappearance of politics is not limited to autonomy. It is likely that the current legislative paralysis shows that parliamentary liveliness does not always suppose the real vitality of politics. But it is impossible to isolate the paralysis of a basic certainty: without money you can not become political either. This widespread misery helps to explain, by a procedure similar to that of the separatism, the baseness of the Spanish political debate, taken by the spokespersons and their cozas. And it explains, finally, the relative importance of being without budgets or without government. The automatic pilot of the policy is perfectly explained by the impossibility of opening new routes. On the elite's agenda of what was essentially a club in rich Europe, interests had prevailed nationals coinciding at that time. It was therefore an illusion to conceive that such circumstances at origin could be projected indefinitely into the future, and insist on their manifest destiny of continuous expansion. Judt, so clairvoyant, anticipated that the seams of the corset around the myth of Europe would end up jumping in an enlarged Union, with unequal economic levels and divergent interests. To achieve the close union of the peoples of Europe would be "impossible in practice" and "imprudent" to continue to promise it as a panacea. The EU, like all human collective projects, is historically contingent. Nor is the profile of much of the political leaders and elites in Member States and institutions. The current European leader and decision-maker is utilitarian, more conditioned than ever by the immediate agenda and short-term interests - to build a long-term view as a chimera - and by the very Byzantine logic of the EU. Beyond cases like the British or Poland, there is great skepticism with the benefits of acting in a common European framework that is seen as less legitimate; In that perception, they are often sacrifices that do not always compensate for the advantages of going as far as possible. Also, although the digital transformation should have a European dimension, we do not know how the national democracies or Europe as a whole will come out of the changes we are experiencing. Thucydides' logic of the primacy of the strong over the weak reigns. But it is also that we are not strong enough to compete individually. Thus, continuing to bet machaconamente for "more" or "better Europe" may be necessary to re-legitimize a questioned project, but it is not enough. Nor is it enough the dynamics of self-pilot and gradualism that has governed for years, saving the most urgent moments of the crisis. George Santayana defines fanaticism as redoubling efforts when you have forgotten your goal. Something similar happens to part of the Europeanist discourse. We can not wait for the advent of a great tomorrow that may never happen. And yet the myth of Europe has worked, if not in the absolute way that is often said. In the EU, this has been the case when the interests have been converging. Utopia has overcome the material confines of a UE absorbed by its inertia and problems. For this reason, we Europeans have to ask us again questions and listen to Judt, preventing Europe from being an obstacle to solving problems and addressing the underlying dilemmas. Issues such as security will require, yes, more Europe, without prejudice to national strategic autonomy and new alliances with other actors. Others, such as the democratic crisis, require the reinforcement of democratic discourse and collective mechanisms in the face of abuses of populist majoritarianism. But we must also bet on large constitutional political consensus and national projects, as in Spain. In short, the tensions between interests and values will continue and Europe will always be diverse and problematic. A space with substantive ties with neighbors like Tunisia. A flexible and modernized network of nodes, which would include an EU with nuclei of greater political integration under rigorous criteria, which does not exclude other Europeans who fulfill their commitments. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. So, his accurate answers about the current lack of ethics and morals I share them as long as he considers them attributable to that bipartisan complicity. And it will not be because nobody is strange is dizzying and massive abandonment of the principles that have shaped, essentially, our western democratic model of society. And, do not doubt it, also because the one-eyed man is the king in a country of the blind; exactly the same reason that explained the arrival of the Mariano155. This Canadian clinical psychologist has become a cult figure among 'millennials', especially male. Your recent book, 'Twelve rules for life', is a treatise of responsibility against the culture of victimhood. You also compare men with locusts. The postmodern left and its feminist warriors have managed to impose the idea that the hierarchy is a social construction of the evil and corrupt Western patriarchy. They bury biology under their ideology. They deny nature to blame the man. Their ideas have no factual basis whatsoever. Evolutionary Biology and Neuroscience show that hierarchies are incredibly old. For a lobster, a dinosaur is a new rich that arrived and, poof, disappeared. Already 350 million years ago the lobsters lived in hierarchies. Their nervous system makes them aspire to a high status. The males try to control the territory and the females seduce the strongest and most successful males. It is an intelligent strategy, used by females of different species, including humans. We are soft on the outside and hard on the inside... Are the locusts chauvinist? There is a thread of continuity between the social structures of animals and humans. Our brain has a mechanism that operates on the basis of serotonin: the higher our position in the group, the more positive emotions. Lobsters have the same mechanism. In part, from the thought of the Enlightenment. Many intellectuals and philosophers have difficulty taking the lessons of evolutionary biology: discover how much we have in common with animals, that not everything is culture or reason... It shocks them deeply. The revelation that an antidepressant works along the evolutionary chain shakes our vision of man. You point mostly to the left. The left in general considers that hierarchies are bad. It's normal: hierarchies produce winners and losers. And being a loser or coexisting with losers - people who struggle but still lives - is existentially painful. It is also shown that the excess of inequality generates unstable societies. The left has the right to worry. To which he has no right - because it is scientifically false - is to blame inequality on capitalism, on the West or on presumed patriarchy. They say: it is unfair that wealth is distributed disproportionately and that few people accumulate most of it. It is a phenomenon rooted in nature: those who have more, more accumulate. It looks at the size of cities. Now there are some gentlemen who call themselves "ecophysical". They study Economics from the laws of Physics. And they have discovered fascinating things: the same laws that govern the distribution of gas in a vacuum govern the distribution of money in the economy. The problem of inequality does not have a simple explanation. And the left must assume that complexity and, from there, initiate a profound intellectual renovation. Today's left is so predictable. The verification of the failure of communism, of its structural criminality, was a shock for the left. Gulag Archipelago is your bedside book. A cheating and brilliant maneuver. They replaced the focus of the debate: from the class struggle to the struggle of identities. The premise of the postmodernists was correct: the world is subject to an infinite number of interpretations. But variety does not denote viability. You will see hundreds of skeletons of mammals exposed. They are all incredibly similar. The extremities vary in length, but the basic plan of the body has not changed. It takes tens of millions of years because there are not so many configurations that work. And when one works, it is preserved. The same goes for the hierarchy: it is the evolutionary solution to the problem that many elements of the same type of thing coexist in the same place. And so far we have not found an alternative. If postmodernists were right, there would be hundreds of different ways to organize socially. Postmodernists are stubbornly ideological: they fix an axiom, which can be valid, and then apply it indiscriminately to invalidate it. Foucault, for example: everything explains in terms of power. But I insist: why deny biology? In the end, the obsession of postmodernism with power and relations of dominance reflects their desire for power and their desire for domination. They deny biology because biology belies their idea that people are plasticine. And they want plasticine to be able to mold them. The existence of nature makes social engineering impossible. We can not perceive the world without an ethical hierarchy. Psychology and Biology demonstrate it, and even atheists know it. Without order the ethical and moral vacuum is imposed. His videos and lectures sweep between adolescents and millennials, especially males. There is a crisis of masculinity. The "toxic masculinity", say the feminists. Children receive a devastating and paralyzing message from modern society. Then they are told that society is a corrupt phallocentric tyranny of which they, of course, are guilty of origin by the mere fact of being men. And finally they are warned: "Do not think about trying to prosper or move forward, because then, besides being guilty, you will be active accomplices of the femicide tyranny." The result is that many men, especially young people, have morals on the floor. You insist on the difference between power and competence. The worst thing that postmodernists have done is to spread the confusion between power and competence, aptitude, ability. Hierarchies are not domination but competition. Read the luminous work of Frans de Waal. Tyrannical chimpanzees end badly: smashed to pieces. The most successful chimps - also sexually - are the ones that interact best. Those who make friends and treat the females well. Competition is more effective than pure and hard power. Journalist Andrew Sullivan says that gay relationships are as "aggressive" as heterosexual relationships. Denies that there is a will of specific domain of man over women and warns against the idea of war of the sexes as false and dangerous. Only weak men try to dominate women. The lesson is obvious: only the losers resort to the power to obtain more sex than they can, if they need it. For that there is monogamy, which is rooted in biology and reaffirmed culturally. To prevent rejected men from developing antisocial behaviors. In Parental relationships, the pattern of Pareto distribution also works: few men capture a large part of sexual opportunities. This is bad for guys who do not tie, of course. But it's not good for girls either. It is seen in the most progressive American university campuses, where in recent years there has been a notable drop in the number of male students precisely because of the ideological pressure. The odds that a girl has of locking something similar to a stable relationship are tiny. Someone will think: "What luck for the boys, the dream of every adolescent!" False. Because relationships become an infinite sequence of ligues of a night without continuity or perspective or utility in the medium or long term. It is a degenerative game, which devalues participants from both sides. You denounce the "attempt to feminize men". And that does not suit either sex. Women have as much interest as men in ending the crisis of masculinity. A sensible woman does not want a toddler as a couple. And if she is smart and competent, she wants a man who is even smarter and more competent than her. I see the radical feminists tearing their robes. Radical feminists are wrong, radically! They do not distinguish between a competent man and a despot. His panic at any display of male skill is revealing of a very bad personal experience. They say: "Let's start the men with their claws and his fangs! And it is also a serious strategic error. Because when you annul a man, you increase his bitterness and resentment. You turn him into an inept, tormented, meaningless being. And meaningless lives are miserable. And then it becomes aggressive. The despotism of the weak is much more dangerous than the despotism of the strong. You link the crisis of masculinity with the rise of the extreme right. When the only social virtues are the flabby and harmless, hardness and domination become fascinating. Look at the phenomenon of Fifty Shades of Gray. Six months I was laughing when it was published. The whole culture burns in demands for man to sheathe weapons and the best-selling book in history is a sadomasochistic fantasy. Freud would be both horrified and exultant. I do not know if he found out about the scandal caused by my opposition to the C-16 law. The law imposes the use of neutral pronouns for transsexuals. Instead of him, she or them, words like ze, hir or zir. I said, and I repeat, that I will not use those terms. First, because the imposition of words by law is unacceptable and unprecedented. And, second, because they are neologisms created by neo-Marxists to control the semantic terrain. And you should never give up the semantic terrain because if you do, you have lost. Now, imagine that we had already given way. The oppressor-oppressed narrative would have been imposed. And right-wing radicals would say: "Okay, let's play the game on the left. Of course, we are not going to be the losers guilty. We're going to be hyper-aggressive and we're going to win. " And then we would enter into an identity struggle. The left believes that it can win by throwing tons of guilt on the presumed oppressors. Maybe I'll get it, but I would not bet my money. At age 19, women put their careers before the family. It is a reality that nobody talks about. Except for some women from 37 to 40 years who have missed the window of reproductive opportunity and feel unhappy. It would be enough for men to help more with children. Men are less well configured than women for the care of children under two years of age. They do it because they want, not because nobody imposes it on them. And that decision leads them to take another, prior. Each child demands about three years of intense dedication. And for a mother, objective cause of vulnerability. They practice hypergamy: they look for a partner at the same or higher level of competence than they do. Let's speak clearly: of equal or more socioeconomic capacity than them. This happens in all cultures. It is one of the most remarkable revelations of Evolutionary Biology and Psychology. And in the case of hypercompetent women, it's a problem. The higher a woman's IQ, the lower the likelihood that she will find a stable partner. Men do not dare...... nor invite them to leave. I have worked for decades with highly qualified lawyers. They hired me to improve their work productivity and their affective relationships. They had it very hard to find a partner. In the last 15 years, the interest of women for marriage has gone up a lot. On the other hand, that of men has collapsed. I want to ask about the salary gap between men and women. For starters, it is smaller than they say. Those who make statistics tend to confuse the mean and the median. And the average is disfigured by the existence of a tiny segment of billionaires, who are mostly men. What does not exist is what they call the "gender" wage gap. That is, a gap resulting from a macho prejudice. For the feminist argument to work, one would have to assume that global business is masochistic, dumb, suicidal: "Aha! We pay them less and we also hire them less. " The reality is that the salary difference has about 20 causes, of which only one would be attributable to prejudice. Personality is another, very important. And the the interests are more important. A countercurrent data: single women under 30 earn more than men in that same age range. The personality: nice people charge less than unpleasant people. It costs more to ask for a raise. And it turns out that, on average, women are nicer than men. This produces a slight bias in favor of men, which is not the result of any macho prejudice; if it is an injustice with the kind people of the sex that they are. Dutch women work the most part-time. And that despite an intense policy of incentives to do it full time. Even for women who do not have children or want to have them. It refers to the liberal and conservative sectors. They dare not say anything that contravenes the feminist story in panic to be lynched by the mob. In Spain, the President of the Government opposed intervention in companies to impose wage equality. They called him macho and he retracted. It would be necessary to create a monstrous bureaucratic structure. The free market exists precisely because it is impossible to put into practice the formula "to equal work, equal salary". It was already tried under the Soviet Union. I have a friend who ran one of the leading technology companies in Canada. He did not take vacations in 20 years. And they were not eight-hour days, half on the yacht. To live like that, you have to be configured in a very particular way. Paternity losses: there is an offer but there is no demand. When you have a business that your family depends on, you do not get four months off. The same happens in very competitive professions. Law firms, for example. The majority of the partners are men. They do their best to sign and keep the best. The problem is that, after a certain age, women leave or reduce their level of commitment. Again, it is a legitimate choice. And notice the last big surprise. The Scandinavian countries have done everything possible to impose formal equality between men and women. From the cradle to the grave, they have eliminated all the cultural elements that could condition or accentuate gender differences. Even toys are neutral. Exactly the opposite of what was expected: the differences in personality between men and women have been accentuated! It is an impressive scientific discovery: if you eradicate cultural differences, you maximize biological differences. In every individual there is a very high capacity to do evil. The question is: why are these ideas spread about men? 95% of crimes are committed by 5% of the population. Most of those criminals act once or twice. But there is a small segment that acts in a serial way. Psychopaths that leave a trail of victims. From there, anyone can turn all men into predators by manipulating the definition of "sexual violence." Because there is not a man on the planet who has not ever made an unrequited sexual advance. Partly because of clumsiness or lack of sophistication. Partly because I did not know what the answer was going to be. Today that is enough to force the resignation of a minister or liquidate the career of an actor. The postmodern left demands unlimited sexual expression, of any taste or color - there is Gay Pride - and absolute sexual security. Let's see how they fit that circle. His last occurrence is a marvel: affirmative consent. Each step and stage of a love or sexual encounter must be duly recorded to avoid misunderstandings. Only a poor naive of 13 years can consider that this is no longer positive, but viable. Sometimes it gives the impression that our culture has been taken by people with serious personality disorders. There is a phenomenon that I have seen in my practice... Let's see, this could cause me a problem... Some women do not know how to say no. They are women vulnerable or damaged, which are exposed again and again. They have anomalous relationships, not only with men. And he ends up having a sexual relationship with him that he did not know how to avoid and that at the moment he regrets badly. It is a phenomenon more frequent than it seems and in the universities it is aggravated by the consumption of alcohol. A is not always a resounding no. But sometimes it can be a maybe. I would not dare say that. If you said that on the typical American progre campus it would be reported to a discrimination committee, subjected to an investigation, lynched and dismissed. I think it was Mike Pence who said he would not meet alone with a woman behind closed doors. I have been advised the same thing hundreds of times. I pass, because I find it offensive, for me and certainly for women. For that, let's put a camera in each office. Or better yet: we impose the obligation that every sexual encounter be recorded and posted on YouTube, so that no one can have the slightest doubt that each phase of the act was conducted in a perfectly cordial, civilized and consensual way. Distinguishes between sexual harassment and the right to molest. The right to importunate is elementary. I told the interviewer on Channel 4 that I had a discussion, let's say, intense. There is no right to think without the right to offend. Because nothing that I can say will be universally accepted and assumed. At least one of them will be offended. You limit yourself to saying noises: "this floor would seem to be gray." With an aggravating factor: when the debate ends, the row begins. What we need in the media is few superintelligent people willing to tell the truth. What we have are hordes of second-rate columnists possessed by fear and ideology. And soon they will stop being read and heard. His book is a treaty of responsibility against the culture of overprotection. Another legacy of the progresía: a generation of spoiled and complaining, zero prepared to face life. Those Oedipal fathers, who make a pact with their child: "You will never leave us and in return we will do everything for you". Pure selfishness wrapped in mimes. The result is that children grow up without maturing. They have no sense of responsibility. They become useless and end up resentful. My message to young people is simple. Stop complaining and blaming others. Be honest, upright and disciplined. Assume your responsibility. Do like the locusts: walk upright with your shoulders back. Because the world has too many children. What you need are adult men. In others only when so indicated with a blue color. This blog was created on February 2, 2006 in lacoctelera.com and in September 2014 all your entries, visits and comments were imported. 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no, you can see it in my oldest articles about the bonds of freemasonry and the creation of the "free" nation. They have Charges and duties all serving the common good of the order. Trying to get away from real knowledge and dirtying your spirit, morals and thoughts, why do you think nobody believes in anything? Why do you think there is so much difference and division? I think we can begin to see and develop the definition of what the Illuminati are and what their real purpose is. always respecting the great pyramid. Do you know that the Vatican had a bank? Banco Ambrosiano, which was syndicated as the corrupt arm of the Vatican, for which they had shares in a pharmaceutical company that produced pills abortive, and listed on the stock exchange supporting weapons factories. The most awake or those who have spent more time in research we ask certain questions that are not revealed in this article. I would ask you a question, in your environment you have not encountered problems when commenting on these realities that are happening? in God we find many things and believe me that it is not a lie this is true! It is idiocy to be an illuminati, in the end your final destiny is the same, and you can not change it. The truth has many faces and not all are pleasant, those who manipulate the truth or hide it only gain time for the inevitable. I feel blessed that the king of kings has removed that blindfold from me. Today I am increasingly clear about how they manipulate us and try to change our thoughts by imposed lake. This is one of the questions and your answer. The King has the manuscript of this essay and the work finally edited, because one of the main objectives of the Illuminati, is to eliminate the monarchical system throughout Europe. This is the case of David Rockefeller, a prominent eugenicist and owner of important banks and rating agencies... directly or indirectly involved in the current financial crisis. American family of German origin, patriarch of the well-known Rockefeller family. David Rockefeller since 1954 has been a constant assistant and member of the steering committee, in charge of preparing the list of guests for each annual meeting. Rockefeller says that Bilderberg's role is not focused on resolving disputes, but that participants are "free to report what they have heard from their heads of government." To reality and imagination, to what comes with man that is faith and the need of a god. A weak and not punishing god, who loves and who forgives dying people in this way. Get out of mediocrity, study and investigate, do not fear something you have not seen. Do not feel something that is imaginary. Hahahaha, if it were not for those liturgies of Illuminati, there would not be so much war, so much poverty, so much violence, they will handle the world at will as they are given the ghana! They do not care if they are big or small they experiment with children animals they have destroyed our world!! Mule who defends them is defending his own misfortune! Why there are iluminatis! God has all the power to finish us if he wanted to. It does not matter if you have money or belong to a sect of the many that exist. That does not work at the time of your death and with your way of thinking we would all be lost and lost are those who serve other gods that are not. And everything that happens on Earth is due to the evil that people have. The really bad thing is going to come when each of all the hypocrites who believe they have power die. After the world order comes Jesus Millennial has to impose his kingdom on earth. They do not have to believe me just investigate and the truth will make them free. I do not know maybe from nothing, how was the human race created? the human race was created from the boiling of the monkey. In theory it is impossible for one man to create the whole world, the earth was undergoing changes together with us until we reach what we are today. nothing is done from one day to the next, everything must comply with its development. That the human race was created from nothing? And then the human race was created by the "boiling" of the monkey? That the human race was created from nothing? And then the human race was created by the "boiling" of the monkey? But it is also true that within the church there are true bishops, cardinals. Let us continue to fight against these sons of satan. MY war against them is to bring peace. Save many lives that they are killing, and that induce them to commit suicide. God is part of us is that feeling is what makes us feel good. Why do you want to change our mind? We all know that the Vatican is the mecca of world power, corruption, symbolism and paganism. Another fanatic who has all the information, the concomiendo and the data to show that YOUR truth is the only truth. Obejtivo: power, test your ability to control the universe. Interference in the wave of probabilities peculiar to each body as the voice, and common in information as the phonem. That's why twins are more likely to do so. As he does not succeed, he takes him to the cross to try again there. Also get submission and taming. Maybe it's even a trick of yours because they've been mocked. And you are right they handle everything and have woven all kinds of alliances and social networks. And if so, does it mean that we have always been mentally controlled for a long time about how to see the world? I would also like to make clear that, if the church is part of said organization because it believes in a book with scriptures in which, simply, I believe, they contain an erroneous ideology of life? they created an Antithesis from remote times and now they are going or are executing the Synthesis. I do not know where in the world you live. I do not know if you are a Christian, an Islamic, a Buddhist, a Judaist. and they want and they are ruling this planet not for the one who is to come, but for the one who is already here. Does God exist among us Christians? Or is it a creation of them to manipulate us??? In Illuminati we believe that we were born in paradise and no member should fight in this world. Therefore all of our new members are given rewards of money, once they come together in order to improve their lifestyle; I find it incredible that some of its members have not regretted belonging to this circle and have denounced them. I do not believe that someone has God in their hearts if they do not even respect their family or their neighbors. It is not that I am stingy, but I do not need what the world offers me to enjoy the gift of living. When was the last time you bathed naked at night in a lake? and the most important question: how much does it cost me to do all this? Do not believe in what I write, just listen to your heart and create your own truthfulness. If it serves as something, do not fight for monetary wealth because that means making the powerful richer, on the contrary you have rich in love and together you can give love. Clean your heart so that you recover the instinct that was taken from us as children. With much respect, and twice as much Love. Could it be from the bunkers, from the smallest city in the world? I suffer from slavery to the spirits of this world and I am still good even though I do not know for how long. Know that your social networks are aware of telepathy. They know what you think, and they will use it to try to go crazy. However, they can induce thoughts simulating your inner voice, I know this from my mother, who is not able to understand the situation that her subconscious is manipulated. Soon I will try to make my book known with all the answers, its distribution will only be done via internet and if the number of orders is enough. Vulnerating your own laws is crazy. It is necessary to vindicate the basic principle that one's freedom ends where the other's begins. For this, knowing the situation we must use the necessary technology. The possibility that this comes from remote times, is not so improbable, because my orphan grandfather already saved his life by following the vision of his mother, and he was not a Catholic. What of the auditory implant I discard it for the images. Perhaps seeing that her mother was manipulated, as you can not imagine, she thought that she freed her like a vampire. And many movies, because 30 years ago they told me, look what happened to Kubrik who can not leave his house. Keep in mind that some dreams were at 10 years old. That is, within each neuron there is a quantum microtubule computer that has created the synapses in its own way. There is no use writing to the authorities. That prevents the attack from above, of your neighbors. On the other hand, combining it with a vibrating percussion massage device helps keep you in a less vulnerable mental state, since we are talking about resonance, whether electromagnetic or acoustic. This means that your consciousness consists of the joint activity of the microtubules in your brain, which send the signal to the mechanism of your soul so that it modifies that vibration or not. Think of the universe as a pond, where the fluid is spacetime. So the horizontal displacement, or space, is that holographic plate of the present slows down your time, as the relativity of Einstein says. Actually the submarine of my soul is descending at the same speed as everything, carried by the current of temporary probability waves. This is so because if not, when traveling and returning to high speed should be higher in the pond, and that does not happen. I could well imagine that within my soul there is a reproduction of the universe, and what happens above but only in my interior happens, but it is not necessary because I can also imagine a pendulum that will detect horizontal displacement and change my density. So, whether I am conscious or not, I grow old according to those laws, therefore what I have inside of me will only affect the interferences that occur with other eddies. Causality is not violated, but the light of now influences the environment, and this influences itself, its environment. Like a liquid that heats up in the hearth and starts to move. Thus, the heat is distributed from hot cold, but the movement generates feedback. So the past influences the future and vice versa. It is not the same past given the principle of action reaction and the light of the stove. There are no parallel universes, only one and eternal, that could have a large number of conscious presents. The abysmal ending will be that since the order uses the temperature, there will not be enough to maintain it. In addition, this will explain quantum entanglement as a context without the need for phantom transmission. Both times after a strong vibration I lost consciousness and left my body. In the first, the anguish that lasted a few minutes of resistance ceased suddenly and I saw myself lying on the floor, without my soul seeing the ones that surrounded my body. That would make him feel like being out of my whirlpool, with the intensity of a very vivid dream. The second I also felt that experience, but they guided me through the universe until I came to a door of intense light. That light radiated an indescribable attractive well-being, as when in the first experience the beings of light appeared after my ghostly confusion, to tell me to return to fulfill my mission. I hallucinated because I would swear it was my grandmother and it could not be, since it had not died yet. Therefore, we can navigate in space time once we get rid of the swirl of our body. In addition, there is a border, which I suppose will be from where the light that descends in our time eternal space emanates, which could be the sky. However, we must not renounce human pleasures, since these can be combined with spiritual ones. That's why I hallucinate with these people, who consider themselves good for not sinning or fornicating, and they are torturers. That is the part of the dream that recomposes our body and in which we turn off and do not remember. In the phase that we remember we mix both things, the totality with particularity of the hologram, and there we are vulnerable to the attacks of these iluminati. Maybe they caused me to faint and deceived me during that subconscious, but logic tells me that that border of heaven can exist, and that there must be an observer who captures these interferences. Not to mention how they are manipulating my life, love, friendships, etc. I told this to a friend, and I saw it in my father. Where do you think Freddy's film is from, and I guess they just changed the electrical installation of my house, possibly to emit more power. The dream induced was in a rare weird club, dancing and I noticed a woman somewhat older than me. She insinuates herself inviting me to go to her mansion. I even tried to climb a bell tower but that's where they came. They wanted to induce hatred towards me, 20 years before I knew her. Once we met and I played it, came the second attack in dreams, to try to direct my destiny, where she attacked me. She denies that but the mydriasis of her pupils gives her away. They control the monopoly of sex, that's why they've banned me in spalumi, and they got rid of the fucking madness. I have visited deservings on a few occasions, one of them 20 years ago and it also crossed my mind saying that I liked it, on the street. And since we do not know if the other has a soul, no one should interfere between what two people agree on a mutual agreement, only a God who knows the whole universe could judge. Chance, which is the inverse of the same probability mechanism, through a single quantum gate of Hammard. Everywhere, anyone can say, whistle whistle gorgorito without knowing derivatives. One of them approached me to ask me if they should be punished, and I replied that if I had the power I would not need to pay them with their currency. Justice is not anger, it is restitution. And regarding the dreams, imagine a Xavier Xavier teacher consciously imagining your nightmare. Your mental waves are read and changed carrier for you to receive them. They could even be mixed with holographic virtuality computer. The most unpredictable chance is that which comes from the totality of the universe, inimitable by us, that occurs in the physical experiments of particles. This process is called Hammard gate, which is what causes the quantum superposition, but it is not that it is on two sides at the same time, there are no parallel universes. That is to say, chance does not really exist, it is a consequence of the eddies of each being, or those of the universe as a whole. You should also review what is in your head, and know that by distracting attention, as when receiving a call when you drive can physically manipulate you. Search it in Google, it would serve for mental manipulation, I have to inform myself well. Grafts of nanochips on the sides and in front. We have only one life in this world, not you. The difference between this and mobile applications is that mobile phones detect the magnetic field and mine the electric field. This is because they read magnetism, and the earth has a magnetic field between 20 and 50 microteslas, and it seems that our organism is in resonance with that field. Perhaps for that reason in addition to having physical properties per percursión, the masajeador alleviates interfering with the magnetic field that they use to disturb the health. Anyway, I'm going to make another circuit to detect the magnetic field so there will be no doubt. The "Arduino Uno" microcontroller will also be used to make a gas detector and if I find sensors or the invention of ultra and infrasound. Magnetism is associated with cancer, leukemia. Imagine space as a sea in which magnetic currents can go in three axes x, y, z. You are running away from the sender or changing your poetry may carry associated information, which could affect our brain. Because it could be that these were invented the roll to mock or mislead. In this case we are interested in the first, which draws energy from the emitter to the receiver. If it is continuous, the receiver will heat up, and if it is to blast, it can cause explosions of the magnitude of nuclear without radiation. In this case, it is emitted with two dipoles, which are two antennas changed phase. Thus when they cross in space, like the cone of two lantern lights that are joined, energy is transmitted from the emitter to the receiver without there being any magnetic or electric field in that area of union. The next thing is to perfect the program and circuit to locate the possible nanoimplant that They say they monitor the carbon nanofiber cables that are in our brain, introduced into the air and water. I have now realized that I have been there for many years, and this is the greatest crime against humanity ever committed. He also had a Cuban acquaintance, almost familiar, who when changing partners to a wealthy woman, began to suffocate to die soon of lung cancer. Also when I get to jog I hear the TV chef say "the bastard of jogging is making it difficult". After being involved with him for seven years, he left me, I did everything possible to bring him back, but everything was in vain. I was so happy and surprised. Since then, I have made a promise that everyone I know will never have a relationship problem, that I am going to refer to the spellcaster to help them. You always have nightmares. To be promoted in your office Do you want a child? They want to keep their husband wife to be theirs forever. So your lover or husband back 2. Spiritual bulletproof 3. Money spell 5. Spell Long life 6. Prosperity spell 7. Spell Protection 8. Get a job spell 9. Become a spell manager 10. Get a huge loan without having to pay any spell quota 11. Freedom 15. spell love spell 16, disappearing spell 17. Invisible human spell 18. Marriage spell 20. spell Avenging 21. popularity spell 22. Supernatural spell power 25. House free loan spell spell 27. spell 29. Tuberculosis spell 30. loose weight and body spell. Why did they ban street prostitution recently? To have a moral excuse about the hidden inquisition they performed. Now you can fuck your life, work, health with your moral right, superior to the legal. As long as there is an extensive aggressive social group with privileges over the minds of others, and all the silent organisms, including the church, politics is a story. Now I understand what my lifeguard friend was referring to when he told me 25 years ago that the aunts had put cameras in the men's changing rooms. But they are not only them, because at that time another friend warned me that a framework similar to the movie "the wave" was forming. I know that they read my thoughts, both of them, and that they play to make them a reality as in the movie of the sphere. Not to mention that life will bother you in a thousand ways. Thus the Illuminati are servants of satan. Thus the Illuminati are servants of satan. Ai people who awaken at an early age to others who do not open their eyes even with a whole life. I only tell that beast and that group that has created that his reign will not last forever, many of us are aware of your evil trick. I do not have a grudge or anything like that for what we did but the new era will come where you will have to give an account to the creator who one day banished you to this world..
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