Monday, September 27, 2010

One Piece Nami And Nico Robin Game

The last page

This is the last page of the notebook, and I want to leave my thanks for letting me into their lives during these few years. I appreciate the opinions, disagreements, books sent to me, my account e-mail, phone calls! Closing this space, but not the virtual abandonment. Are always things to say, and even then could tie me to a site, a process ... I would think that I have left some trace, some incentive to be wary of the rhetoric and posturing ... We will continue talking, discussing elsewhere. I close my notebook, turn off the light, I return to the path ...
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Sunday, September 26, 2010

Racks For Renegade 500

dumb dogs

... and also commissioned for the rover to penetrate the interior, Rodrigo de Jerez and Luis de Torres, who returned six days after the country wondering who had just done. (Pedro Santacilia)

What better refuge: the memory or the landscape? Both perceived distress, so much loss around us that we do not know what passages to retrace back to the starting point. A labyrinthine museum, visitors can not perceive the combination, the tables were no longer to become reference material dreams. Each one weighs his banishment to the scales, strange balance between benefit and shrinkage. How

We won well, looking over her shoulder, believing that we still seek and sustains us something from the past?

spoken speech memory as irrefutable matrix. The site where we were born we impose a vindictive course: our graves must be Hospice murmuring that which we owe the lineage. Just want to vouch for us lighting our death, returned to the clan tradition and changed into a shroud. Returning home we close the circle.

memory are called upon to resist the attacks of that picture. Dreams, pictures, charms. Banished all know redeemed himself by polishing the image that keeps other invulnerability.

memory is better than earth, the attempt to capture its pulse, the weaker the further away from home. We left the cool of the garden fictional, not real fruits or unexpected breaks. The exile feels and evokes the smells of the island, grass and mud, the rain hitting the dust, the fumes spread dark wind. No landscape accommodates

who is comparing what he has with what he learned to withdraw from that list the differences. Each day that passes more disguise ends the schoolyard tree, the tree is transformed into plant concept in mass of unreality that does not serve the purpose of the caregiver. And its fruits, for untouchables, rot.

The old maps are again recognizable. This I know who studies the haze of the picture, who replaced the modern names and original names, always better. When we look at the map of the island, drawn by unsafe hands, we imagine that shaded day, three days of moving into the heart of Zipangu, vegetation covered unfathomable that both intruders and natural.

The tattered map could replace the return trip that we conceive. A trip that we did not return useless white beaches, quiet streams, dumb dogs. And the knowledge gained from that landscape and memory, represented in the brilliance of parchment, vehemently circular supplement.
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What Is Sbi International Debit Card

The price of words

somewhere I wanted to make a poem in my voice, provided that the heirs of tomorrow perhaps few will be curious if all this happens and it appears that the voices tend to become one. Here I read "The price of words, written in 2008.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Male Brazilian Waxing In Missouri

The teacher leaves instructions that his school does not succumb to hypnotic songs sedition

Now they are picking up the networks, not too late,
and counting the empty tin fishing took fortunate
with certainty that any load serves the pleasure of God, I will
warn, Marcial, before you put a painstaking halarlas Sumarto
and get to the chorus, with that voice of yours that desafinaría
up worksongs compounds to accelerate triremes and pyramids. I warn you the recipe
they just lay on your bed,
and ingredients which will improve your vocal combination
to claim a lunetario make to yourself, who squawked
from the battlements to warn of the ram: that mimic
of resonances not even provided by nature, whose credulity
providentially remained deaf, and others: obtuse.

You, Benedict entrusted you a little more introspection
to resolve the usual hesitation to your classmates, which can be
formidable opponents if you do not show strength and passion, whether to follow them
or disappoint.
The domain of logic would save you some generalities
and you may at last justify your appetite so blunt.
could sound credible when he said: "I could care less."
not tremble when your voice will declare: "I assert the contrary."
and burn candles in my memory, without the ritual requires,
to thank my insistence.

I want when I'm gone, Justin, your gentleness
not become slavery, and feel able to dismiss the Cenacle
bland to invite you every week,
which worships the scarecrow as a solitary figure against
ambush the world, and where the initiates are vested with nicknames
whites, not speaking a word of that language
is not as attentive to any suitor.
I would be proud of your rebuttal, and that when seeking to disguise their poverty
, do not miss among those pointing
your name and condemnation in letters of fire.

Now you hear laughing voices among the vines,
and still counting collectors, hopeful and loving, you might as well
, Valerio, move out of a clear field and find comfort
where you get your flock without the reed will shake
between finger, to suspect that every sympathy is a trap that will snatch
song ever serene sunset.
Fear not spit the remains of the fruit they thought
pay you and not waste time explaining: to stay
and writhing rhythms, choke on luscious clusters from
and leave you in peace, without reproach.

I would not, true Albio, your insight is
hindrance between nations or your tongue will come forward to epigram:
will already have their punishment, if his present state is not constituted.
Let them speak and write until it is fed up, and pile up on their shelves
stationery to be his own children who end mudándoles
the court further: the Basement. Beware
of literary divas, midwives plump flabby
displaying their humanity behind black lace;
is making fun of the rhetoricians, whether Nubians or Teutons,
because someone has to entertain or find profit;
not alarmed at the branch, which I despise and fear at a time, always
short of arguments against your irony, subtle and accurate.

Habré take advantage of the indulgence that fosters all
agony and beg, just this once, to keep away from the path of fools,
that let it pass if necessary, so as not to give them visibility;
hypnotic songs that you are deaf, and cultural prostitutes fail to soften
your hearts.
And most of these appeals, the privilege of a job ends here, ask your compassion
end, if the time came to hate
prayers and penance, and seek relief or a supreme miracle,
I pray, my children, not make me return.
.

Low Profile Dust Ruffles

Before

section is not enough known docility that determines all learning: delivery and gratification, invisible contract, union access. Neither the tensions have reached a provision that ends up condemning the door edge debtor to be cutting edge and no incision. Questions will be spent in the investigation of axial seemingly without effect or addition of each equation empty. Who round margins, without support, it must be as hasty note, lost in the fleeting splendor of the lines that pulsate and glorify the copyist of profit, the real enemy. You write

not to simulate the pace that they impose, not to fill in euphony. So you do not absorb the thickening, the enthusiasm. To disguise the corrosive candor that makes you write. Write to not be editable object, not to be intelligible in that format published every morning and complained of a nasty detail.

You write to suffice the crimson words, to blush if you hit on some proposals and not overwhelm you Treats for it.

carefully shut the gate, turn out the wax and manages to yell at the pedestrian from the road, they finally lowered the price of his choral arrangement and hopes to offer at first light. You write

to break the cage that is of discernment. You write with certainty that when the time comes to choose, you can erase everything.
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Friday, September 24, 2010

Dermatitis On My Eyelid

Other notes

I
Since long ago, when the references to literary diaspora were scarce, we instilled the fear of losing the concept that governed our writing. Served as another way to control the impatience, the objections that we expressed and naturally. Should we save as individuals or as writers? Could save as both? And we talked about Padilla and Arenas, who referred to a well thought out compassion as if they were such orphans, or lost. We could learn a lot from them, and almost nothing positive, because our officers were in charge of fixing this myth of the futility of abandoning everything. There were times when we believe no one can make credible literature if you decide to erase or delete the country. I think now, without my own any kind of enthusiasm or disdain, that uprooting them wielded (and even wield), which may in some touch of melancholy or desolation, are a triumph for us, if it really existed. Because it means the failure of the country, maimed and raped in her being, the country that they imagined and they broke his hands. A failure in which they take the most laughable, clinging to a dusty and smelly wasteland, which is not even country or nation or guard against anything.

II
finished reading in public or give lectures, and the invariable question is: How has exile literature? I guess three or four writers on the island, whom I consider exceptional, and I'm not wanting to respond. But it is said, are rare and I doubt that anything make them change their uniqueness. Who knows what to say? I vouch for me. It must also take into account the physical pressure, the peculiar sense with the borders of the island. Just go out and look back and feel the slime rhetoric one hangs everywhere. You have to know detaching, washing. Did I write because we had no other choice? Were we doing literary career or looking for a meaning to our lives? We can be sure that certain writers are simply out of the bubble to recognize the end. And transcribe and no god or pressure can make them territorial. I vouch for me. It may contain the words and caress the arch that looked tense and order. You can choose to imagine the target and shoot at the empty, just the opposite of what I was about to applaud. We write what we can not blend into action. Our literature does not depend on atmospheres, boundaries, rhetorical conveniences. Nobody covers or represents, no one is on their lips to justify an order. We are alone and we are free.
. vinculársele

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Interest Expense For A Bond Formula

literature of exile and a poet, every poet

The poet often too much to its own transfiguration, which clears his calendar to reinvent silhouette on a background of pious equations: book, measurement, image. Quite often we know the poet in person, and it does not interfere in the process of assimilating their perspectives, because subject and fumes complementary. Felt and breathe their own air is another way to read, so to speak, by giving the weight of words to another type of reason incarnate in measurable levels. We browsed and reviewed the book, and when chance brings us to the real person and we know from another time or place. It would appear that his appearance and gestures serve to underline what was already expressed in verse. It rests facilitate such detachment, which can be reciprocal: certain men evade the bodies represented in scriptural, because not everything is given to the trial transcript. It's what you call living in and through poetry, without having to manifest in the visible.

For those who draw a strip between verb and existencia, no siendo por ello menos afortunados, propiciar la corporeidad del Sentido (pujante mensaje que mortifica y consume al heraldo, mensaje hecho letra y ritmo oscuro) viene a convertirse en su carga personal. Y pese a lo estricta que pueda ser esa franja, el poeta denuncia en su físico y sus maneras al hombre que versifica y se preocupa por los alardes lexicales que presupone la lírica. Nótese, sin embargo, que los ensayistas y los narradores consiguen mezclarse, sin atraer sospechas, entre la gente común. Siempre como salvedad, al bardo le corresponde transparentar una porción de lo que tramita en las sombras. Quizás sea porque trabaja con generalidades, con estados que emulan el milagro de lo esférico. Quizás porque metaphor be contagious and not know the body.

Poet, which is all the poets, poetry could have been avoided without great sacrifice. The degree of discomfort to assume that a modulated tone and what the peculiar syntax encoding, prevented him from agreeing with the structures. Time to state what should be, no configuration was useful. And so it was impossible to write poetry, because it must accept the premise that the words never serve to peer beyond certain walls. With such certainty, it was tempting counteroffer: never write, testify in other ways more compelling.

this apprentice found it easy to quiet down any place in the midst of poetry. While his brothers recited and exchanged useful shades, pretending to attend and follow the guidelines, without showing their exercises blotted. Better be silent than to assume a role as practical connotations: poetry was more of a password to the esoteric, as a recipe for survival. Walk the runway with enough weary gesture, a wink, a blush, and the provincial atmosphere would do the rest.

But writing, like any tax, ends up becoming overcrowded (in confidence, page on page) that is necessary to purge or disclose. So the poet, penetrating circles knew departing, recognized voice of others, noted the weakness of the integument rhetoric charmed them, and finally find its uniqueness, its own gradation.

The result will not be discernible in a particular book, or some texts that might provide the anthologist to look distinctive. All his work is marked by the sacrifice of decency, and unusual confession that no reader had asked in advance. No one expects to find similar unveiling in a different context than that promotes literature. It's one of those contradictions of art: poetry as expressive as a letter boasting of relationship stark. Detailing the outrage in a durable, effective.

While we continue checking an oblique argument can serve as a crust for the most hardworking scribes to disguise their poverty: Carthusian armed with bibliographies, melancholy buzzing, epic shelf (except as wheezing), patriotism bureau, the concept of issue. The poetic "I saved your dial and territory, and distributed in books that the Government operates with gentle care. Salable or not legible or not, this verb does not seek to humiliate immune but to improve the sheen of their bearers. Behold

we should pause before the exile, who seems to communicate with the Territory from a distance. And nothing more false. Who study his writings verify how real are the Carthusian and helplessness, so use the flesh as tolls or warning. Her character, always himself, always up, is formed on the belief that writing is giving, externalize the awkwardness, even more isolated.

His poetry exemplifies the beauty of desolation, as a gift or punishment, when you delete the two or three barriers that prevent true take dictation. Free of wires, transfer, almost safe from audits, retracing the axioms of the always strange Sjaeland, the poet carries with it the glazed glass of discernment, and aware that nothing can quench.
.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Lime Green, Black And Sliver Shirts

The game of substitutions

Before leaving the island, no matter what the reason we are encouraged, almost all had to feel a strange resistance in the final days, in the hours that were rattling and attachment (detachment from the usual) that convinced us that certainty discernible only for ourselves: it would be impossible to replace. Who

up, find consolation of that nature, "may not occupy my space." Unsuccessful balm, never close the wound that evidence which was torn, or cut to simulate an insert art. It may be our only motivation, knowing that we are going to the irreversible, the second birth, the first death.

In small towns, the movement worked in any other way. To some, emigration was almost blurred. It was the invisibility and resignation to become a murmur and embers, and then shut down completely. One day we had a neighbor, friendly or moody. The next day we had a ghost. Some

dealing with tabular those absences, and imagine the possible scenarios, not occurred. In my town, someone keeps a list and play spectral speculation: "Now he would be doing this, and live there in the house of the woman he left behind, which was intended to accompany him to the end." Each spectra continues to demarcate the areas claimed by the deputies, intentional or not. Yes, because there are bodies which expand on the inevitable: a man who was not born to swing the ax martial encounters with her, to be wiped off the original recipient, and used to cut logs.

Others are comforted by their poor version of metempsychosis, believing that he was beheaded by the man will be restored by the god will be a reunion as payment of the dispossession.

Someone wrote from there: "Nobody knows that each builds its own paradise. All that you crave and not given to you, and to frame it as possible is your paradise waiting for you. It is not worth believing otherwise, a lounge or a pasture full of cheering parishioners. That would at least the underworld. "

Two parallel worlds, many arguments will continue to evolve in this thesis. Here we speak or sing, knowing that we remain silent at the conjectural. An alternate build pages, rites, small victories that should be ours.

be hard to convince us that we are expendable, and that we have been restored successfully. A place decimated by the plague and war do not deserve, do not be redeemed through our disembodiment, we say today. Devastation can be relaxed, but shall not resurrect others.

The island is a curtain pins, which if shown to the light reveals thousands of tiny holes that shines: our absence.
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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Why Do People Put Boogers On Walls

A closed door that we forget


At first I did not know what to do with such immediacy. Exile, exile, whatever. Diaspora, they said, but at the same time birth. We had the world on a computer. Long distance: redundancy. We waited for those voices that we missed, and also we had never heard. Some digits, a nervous pulse, and the miracle happened. Not to mention the directory that grew in our niche virtual sumábamos desirable addresses and names, including adversaries, allies who had not renewed their covenants, future enemies. It was amazing how quickly the records. They were going all! And every time growing more the notion of a parallel country (the country as possible) to replace our failure mortality. The finger hesitated, but curiosity always won. Sometimes answering a schoolmaster, sometimes the disciples. Phone, email, emissions, radiation. We described the piece of country that we invented to survive, and the matches were quite laughable, in the best sense of the word. The most surprising thing was, again, the immediacy. Before, when we country, was to work together and forge alliances aesthetic. Aesthetic alliance had to be a conspiracy. But now we (the if necessary) to collect signatures and acquire from any corner. However, after we have become accustomed to the idea, invent excuses not to update the directories, indolence appears every morning in the mirror, and return to original exile: the monologue. The idea of \u200b\u200bproximity is asleep in our consciousness. We can say, "tomorrow," without remorse. Communication has become another duty, which we meet once a year: diplomacy, cunning.

II
Before leaving we felt the bag, open it and review it with suspicion. Always remains something: on the table, on the bed. Or, a door without the lock run. When we walk by other cities a start with us inexplicable, it makes us examine luggage and retrace our steps. If you will be exile or banishment, or time travel, something is missing. A few months ago we meet some friends. I hid my joy as I could. The rescue craft terms. "Meeting", for example. A city so vilified, (defending is in bad taste, I say) and that serves as a confluence ... Another contradiction verifiable rhetoric? We had arranged to speak and to evoke, and I concealing my delight, because it found that "meet" was to defeat the fate that before we became interchangeable parts. The board ordered a tyranny. We should be giving testimony in another place, each polishing his monologue, and it was not. That night we laughed from the curse. That date was circumstantial, marked by brevity ... Maybe we pass over the essential things, but I swear that for a couple of hours and gave tyranny was less oppressive. Knowing is not enough time, I left several questions for another time, who knows when. "It's not healthy to exhaust the agenda of the encounter," I dictated the voice of the trial. Following the ritual, we neglect the luggage, we forgot to secure the windows. No matter where we are, we are obliged to leave things pending, as a pretext for unpack, but we are certain that nothing is missing. For a lot of calmness that we hold, we will awaken with a start, thinking he heard the beating of a door, late at night, we forgot to close a door.

(For Felix Luis Viera)
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Aas Vajina Piçtures

The Presence

is as if they had pierced the wall that no one thought crossed, and there throw scraps and leftovers of everyday life. I have stopped proclaiming his tenderness, his hatreds, his effusions. What a piece pointing in secret, they kept for another time, today show the world, lost suspicion. Relate the inevitable continues to be the bait that makes the unbeliever. Surrexit terra autem Saulus : the discovery of the voice. A new genus, a new sign that redefines the variations of correlation. Perhaps the key word: access. I would add another: wings. To ignore that nobody would read a newspaper without thinking invasive of another halo. To neglect the clamping mechanisms, which are bold, the consent, the jaws described in each statement. Freedom of confession, floating in a world that crushes you in appearance, but you add the mechanism of practicality. The traveler is still dropping their cards. Someone to visit and remember to have accepted these new rules: cross the horizon describe the pitfalls and shipwreck, the voices heard without fear mutinous. It's a long journey and spectral. A skylight in the cell to distinguish the sky and the faces that pass poachers. Scrutinize the new space, where the protagonist is initiated into the awkward dance, to learn the steps and the reference. Speaking softly and then finding a speaker under the bed. You are advised not to preach sermons and not accept at once. Wanted nothing more than a corner to tell what frightened him, which invited him to retrace our steps. I've seen from the gate, we study and check their weaknesses, their vanity. We compare with their own guards, who are the locks without enthusiasm. I see in him despite the shadow covering his body racked, and I pity this ambitious consent of enlightening the world. We always look terrified, to see that myself.
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Thursday, September 16, 2010

Rome Total War 1.3 No Prior Installation Of Rome

Blog ... and crossed guitars

two years I've been referring to this Encyclopedia of Christopher Diaz-Ayala, and apart from the information label that contains, I feel so fresh and nice notes like this, on the Set Casino and La Sonora Matancera:

"The Casino had followed an upward path starting popularity as any band, with performances in dance, the next step are the recordings and radio, and when the 40 established Release the movie should have show with live performers, the Casino was a favorite of the public, they had good looks, more moving scene, for example, that the Sonora Matancera and was involved in many more shows than this. The same happened in nightclubs, the Casino provided a more upbeat show. And do not forget also the racial element, except for potatoes, and a musician, the Casino was a group of whites, the Sonora, on the other hand was a group of black with a white musician. On the scene, never had the mobility that the Casino. Not even Celia, now we are surprised at his age, at that time was much more limited in their movement front of the orchestra. Consequently, the advent of television in 1950, the Casino was the Show conveniently located in the South of the CMQ, with a strong audience. La Sonora no such luck.

Sorí In 1951, Mario comes in place of Jose Gundín, and Nico Cevedo is the new pianist. And out Ribot. As I said Alberto Armenteros was because Espí thought the guitar was "crossing" the whole, are going through, musically speaking the discourse of other instruments. The funny thing is that it is quite possible that spies were correct, when you start the Casino, their repertoire is basically boleros and sones guarachas, and that the guitar is very comfortable complementing the work of other instruments, but since 1948, with the insertion of mambo, cha cha and then the other genres, the guitar may not adapt well to these genres. That same problem must have had the Sonora Matancera, only more serious, the guitarist was the director. It would have been insulting to Roger, after having played the guitar, change to the keys, the guiro and maracas. Found another solution: his guitar is, but not heard: it is the only guitar moves the world ... "
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Friday, September 10, 2010

Making Bresaolarecipe

If you come looking for you ... The Quran on fire

reach ninety years like that, without remorse or vainglory, used to linger, to have time. It is possible that death has touched them in a previous time that you no longer keep memories. Perhaps they enjoyed a period of notoriety, now dwarfed by the weight of decades. Its present condition has made them common, if not invisible.

Others had better luck, and die at the right time. In memory of their loved ones will always be young and lucid, and the criticisms made to the Great Enemy will not matter as much as the fortunes of physical damage and save the solution in senile rituals. The beloved of the gods, and have called them rightly.

So, if the opportunity presents our door, why not take advantage? Let it go would be unforgivable, always elusive gift may soon reappear, and our punishment would be permanent, gentle old age, increasingly renouncing what we were doubting our immortality.
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Thursday, September 9, 2010

Poptropica Tech Support



America is fertile place for the emergence of regional visionaries. Almost always they are prophets who have discovered different ways, unusual to read the Bible, and fail to convert and bring together a significant number of the faithful. Their limited perspective, and tough competition from many other elected projected onto them from a larger radius and therefore doxology activities and micro-stories appear as quaint. Like any religion satisfies them, they open a branch itself, and if they notice a shortage of heirs, as they themselves claim to be new Messiah.

The case of Terry Jones of Dove World Outreach Center, is simpler. It is a church pastor who has managed to get into the news for their "Day of Burning Koran", which has angered those who like to burn them other things, mostly American flags and rubber tires. The mentality of the Rev. Jones is not very complicated, it is based on the Southern gospel tradition, seasoned with elemental patriotism and confronting the work of the devil: Islam, homosexuality, liberal life. Perhaps even vegetarianism. His peculiar way of dealing with Muslim teaching, through phrases on t-shirts and posters, and now the pile, are his trademark ideological.

As always, controversial or dangerous books end up getting the wrath of the masses and those who tuck. Among the great biblioclastas of history, Qin Shi Huang remember to Diocletian, Savonarola, the Nazis and the Communists. Castro variant, almost secretly, was converted into pulp. This burning

scheduled for Sept. 11 could get something positive: once again the freedom of expression will be tested, and discussed with emphasis. Who wants to express their stupidity and intolerance lighting a match and burn sheets, should be on your right to do so without fear of reprisal. You may also be an entertaining show, like all orgiastic ritual or ecclesiastical.

If the aim is to anger the Muslims, it is understood that there are many ways to do it. For example: edit the Koran in a toilet roll. Or better yet, make a run multimillion translation into Spanglish.

But is another major offense, and applicable to any human or divine book: reading the newspaper.
. late

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Anti Adipose Tea Reviews

Socialist Realism rotating turbine

From reading I did of The initial land retains two reminiscences: the innate art to tell of Jesus Diaz, and the hatred of its protagonist even inspired me. Because that figure was too familiar to me as the typical portrait of the generation that preceded us: our teachers and neighbors integrated into the process, maybe our own parents, always torn between spontaneity and commitment. Belong to the Party, for example, involved a compliance of rules limiting any individual flash for many privileges endorse the militant. At that time, have a red card prevented them from men and women strictly personal decision, if we speak of loyalty conjugal, fraternal relations, correspondence with family, sexual preferences, religious beliefs. And the physical appearance, especially! Jesus Diaz's character worked as an archetype of that individual collated by the more rigid order and rhetoric that could be conceived.

Interestingly, this order was idealized in the literature by writers suspected of heresy, or the middle of ostracism. Some few novels and stories were in charge of moving the body of the workman sticking his reply Slavic Antilles, to believe it alive and full of contradictions. But the prose was poetry which detailed their exploits and quarrels with the best scents, and no one had to wonder return to the line of hammers and drills, the cattle and crops. The martyrs fell from their frames and sat on the rustic table, to enjoy the bracing gofio am and canned varieties Bulgarkonserv the afternoon. Interestingly, three decades after its emergence, the few writers whose form and behavior they have earned the trust party still awaiting retrospective look. And you have not been reissued by the nostalgia industry that do not stop to relieve the work of those who were not too late in their lives, the official pardon. With what delight those names are pronounced today, Zhdanov, Pavón, Serguera, which mitigates the guilt of their invisible masters, who say they've been so looking for another party!

That literature, which is thought to be eradicated to canned and oil first moved to the cities, clinging to survival instinct, then migrate and explore the world market, knowing that a doomsday scenario was ideal to meet traditional western curiosity. And is that socialist realism, always accepted by the mass of readers, thrives in the eloquence that lead to circumstances, because it seems effortless recount, copying the environment, showing the proximity and simplicity of the daily dilemmas, making the user see his heroes are around and breathe the same air.

When the existential drama of an individual could not be its dependence on the collective (the guild, the community), and their weaknesses and challenges knew remedied, the writer did not suit him to venture into adjacent planes that would prevent the return. His characters not pass through labyrinths, or lost in the unconscious depths, were content with the space of logic and reason were assigned. But once limited immediate needs subsidies to be removed, the characters became less docile and ended up joining the uncertainty of the new atmosphere. The writer did not find it difficult to pursue the same speech, only had to imagine his hero, accustomed to a warm shower and twilight, would have to learn to live with the turbine rotates, permanently. And that learning would make him extremely aggressive, would change the vocabulary and open up "The Doors of Perception." In short, there would have to change the style, but the landscape.

What happened to socialist realism, now that everything becomes unpredictable? If you pay attention, you can find the same basic rhetoric, the endless paradigms to support and gentle questions that makes the middle. Its stylistic and conceptual poverty has managed to find the perfect mask, an adjective replicas does not support "dirty." So what changed into a dirty socialist continues to reflect, to name irrelevant, the same scene and the same characters from Paris, Havana and Miami. And they say that a broken turbine no benefits!
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Thursday, September 2, 2010

Can You Paint Enamel Wood Stove



Today marks the centenary of José Ángel Buesa, the controversial poet Cruces. A note about it on the blog Gaspar Lugareño , and a curious item in the voice of the Lele, which includes parts of the sonnet "I saw the night ..."

Poetry does