Vivías en mi casa y no lavabas
platos, vasos, o una cacerola.
Te rascabas todo el día las bolas
y ni siquiera ésas te lavabas.
Cuando tenías ganas me cascabas
y yo, boluda, me quedaba piola.
Te cogiste a mis amigas Pancha y Chola
y a mí hacían años que ni me cagabas.
Encañonado por tu propio chumbo
finalmente te mandé al carajo;
ahora venís y me arrastrás el ala.
Pero aunque si te veo me derrumbo
ya sé ser ciega: si volvés te bajo
de un tiro. Mirá si seré bruja. Y mala.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Monday, January 23, 2006
Sisyphus as a dung beetle
Why not? It could have happened, if the greek gods had been even more sadistic.
Anyway, since we're dwelling in the absurd, consider these thoughts i found on www.geocities.com/sysyphusrock/ :
"As far as I'm concerned there is only one way to have peace on earth. That is through education, conversation and making love. After all, we are only a collection of thoughts, memories and desires. Viva the people, and long may we learn, procreate and think.
Unless, of course you eat a lot of processed food - hot dogs, processed cheeses, cheap bologna, etc - which means that you're mostly made out of lips, hooves, anuses and sawdust."
I must say, i couldn't agree more!!!
Anyway, since we're dwelling in the absurd, consider these thoughts i found on www.geocities.com/sysyphusrock/ :
"As far as I'm concerned there is only one way to have peace on earth. That is through education, conversation and making love. After all, we are only a collection of thoughts, memories and desires. Viva the people, and long may we learn, procreate and think.
Unless, of course you eat a lot of processed food - hot dogs, processed cheeses, cheap bologna, etc - which means that you're mostly made out of lips, hooves, anuses and sawdust."
I must say, i couldn't agree more!!!
Sunday, January 22, 2006
La-dee-da....
I actually feel the opposite of "la-dee-da", but since our deep feelings affect our expression, i'm trying to use a bit of reverse logic: perhaps by acting cheerful, i can also manage to feel more that way.
First there is a cheetah prowling around. These mammals are known for the high speeds they can achieve in short sprints, but this one specimen seems less easily tired. Plus, as cheetahs do, it marks its territory by spraying piss all over the place. Gotta get water-proof boots, an umbrella... and a cattle-prod wouldn't be a bad idea, either.
The cockatoo can't quit cawing, it's throat NOT obstructed like the Danish queen's, by a potato, but hurting nevertheless, obviously (not only its throat, but its whole cockatoo-ness). Colors all bright, hard to look at and listen to. Can't help it. Its pain becomes contagious.
The lion lies low in the bush, paralyzed by fear, cheetah-piss dripping on it. The rest of the fauna take bites off each other. A giraffe nips me in the rump -- jokingly, it says. Still: auch! Sometimes i forget it only appears herbivorous. It takes some tough teeth to try to chew on my ass, though. I hope it learned its lesson, but i doubt it.
The jungle is dry, untended. The rainy season's far and away. Hippo A justifiedly complains about the lack of water, Hippo B tries to deny it, but instead its parched skin cracks, making it all more obvious. I think to myself: "H2O!" (He's 2 Obtuse!).
Then i come across a baboon who announces the end of the world. It's a tragic occasion, as it used to be a very optimistic baboon, but in just 30 years it's turned into a regular Chicken Little. Mood-swings aside, cherry-red buttocks and all, it has amassed, unlike that other silly bird, a great pile of credibility. Now some other animals will attempt to scurry away with chunks of it; Personally i hope they manage (credibility ends better than the world), but if not, maybe the grubs i didn't have are good that way. Not that that'd help the ones i do have.
On the brighter side, the baboon's claim allows me to put our jungle jangle in perspective. Plus i remember the concern in the eyes of the gazelle on hearing the cockatoo: shiny depths, like beetle wing cases, not looking away.
Anyway, gotta get to bed. I have rolled too many dung-balls today.
First there is a cheetah prowling around. These mammals are known for the high speeds they can achieve in short sprints, but this one specimen seems less easily tired. Plus, as cheetahs do, it marks its territory by spraying piss all over the place. Gotta get water-proof boots, an umbrella... and a cattle-prod wouldn't be a bad idea, either.
The cockatoo can't quit cawing, it's throat NOT obstructed like the Danish queen's, by a potato, but hurting nevertheless, obviously (not only its throat, but its whole cockatoo-ness). Colors all bright, hard to look at and listen to. Can't help it. Its pain becomes contagious.
The lion lies low in the bush, paralyzed by fear, cheetah-piss dripping on it. The rest of the fauna take bites off each other. A giraffe nips me in the rump -- jokingly, it says. Still: auch! Sometimes i forget it only appears herbivorous. It takes some tough teeth to try to chew on my ass, though. I hope it learned its lesson, but i doubt it.
The jungle is dry, untended. The rainy season's far and away. Hippo A justifiedly complains about the lack of water, Hippo B tries to deny it, but instead its parched skin cracks, making it all more obvious. I think to myself: "H2O!" (He's 2 Obtuse!).
Then i come across a baboon who announces the end of the world. It's a tragic occasion, as it used to be a very optimistic baboon, but in just 30 years it's turned into a regular Chicken Little. Mood-swings aside, cherry-red buttocks and all, it has amassed, unlike that other silly bird, a great pile of credibility. Now some other animals will attempt to scurry away with chunks of it; Personally i hope they manage (credibility ends better than the world), but if not, maybe the grubs i didn't have are good that way. Not that that'd help the ones i do have.
On the brighter side, the baboon's claim allows me to put our jungle jangle in perspective. Plus i remember the concern in the eyes of the gazelle on hearing the cockatoo: shiny depths, like beetle wing cases, not looking away.
Anyway, gotta get to bed. I have rolled too many dung-balls today.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Updating and the entry of 13/12
Hmmmm...
Today i have been publishing the entries i wrote during my vacation. It seems my entry of december 13th made people uncomfortable. To be true about it, it has also made me a bit uncomfortable.
M & M are correct when they say sexuality should be a private thing, and that my talking about my own so much is awkward. For one thing, this image comes to mind: me, standing on top of a mountain, pointing to myself with both hands and yelling "Look at me, world! I'm gay!!!!"
But i'm not as oblivious as that. When i talk publicly about my sexuality the only thing i make known is my sexual orientation, and that is because i believe homosexuals must be visible if we want to make things better for ourselves in society. I don't know how it is for heterosexual people, but for me as a homosexual man sexuality is in my mind very frequently (mind you, i've written 'sexuality', not 'sex'), because of the impact that societal views on that sexuality have always had in my life.
I truly wish it didn't have to be so. Bourgeois or flock-minded as it may sound, what gay people want is not prominence because of their sexuality, but the opposite -- which is flatness, i suppose: not to stick out, but to be acknowledged and treated as part of the normal sexual spectrum.
Of course, by saying this i realize that, in some eyes, i'm climbing on top of yet another mountain and yelling "Look at me world! Poor, suffering me!!!"
I can't be 100% sure, of course, but i don't think that's my motivation.
Anyway. About M.'s objection on my use of the love (bla bla) argument with the priest, obviously i meant a feeling that is not only mutual, but among people who are able to decide about their lives and in full command of their discernment, so that excludes paedophilia and zoophilia. Of course, it can also be argued that most people are never in full command of their discernment either, so true, there is a point here: heterosexual people shouldn't get married either, nor have their relationships recognised by society (har har har!).
Enough of this. I had a great break and a good beginning of the year, though it's a bit of a downer that the break is over. I hope you're all fine out there, too.
Today i have been publishing the entries i wrote during my vacation. It seems my entry of december 13th made people uncomfortable. To be true about it, it has also made me a bit uncomfortable.
M & M are correct when they say sexuality should be a private thing, and that my talking about my own so much is awkward. For one thing, this image comes to mind: me, standing on top of a mountain, pointing to myself with both hands and yelling "Look at me, world! I'm gay!!!!"
But i'm not as oblivious as that. When i talk publicly about my sexuality the only thing i make known is my sexual orientation, and that is because i believe homosexuals must be visible if we want to make things better for ourselves in society. I don't know how it is for heterosexual people, but for me as a homosexual man sexuality is in my mind very frequently (mind you, i've written 'sexuality', not 'sex'), because of the impact that societal views on that sexuality have always had in my life.
I truly wish it didn't have to be so. Bourgeois or flock-minded as it may sound, what gay people want is not prominence because of their sexuality, but the opposite -- which is flatness, i suppose: not to stick out, but to be acknowledged and treated as part of the normal sexual spectrum.
Of course, by saying this i realize that, in some eyes, i'm climbing on top of yet another mountain and yelling "Look at me world! Poor, suffering me!!!"
I can't be 100% sure, of course, but i don't think that's my motivation.
Anyway. About M.'s objection on my use of the love (bla bla) argument with the priest, obviously i meant a feeling that is not only mutual, but among people who are able to decide about their lives and in full command of their discernment, so that excludes paedophilia and zoophilia. Of course, it can also be argued that most people are never in full command of their discernment either, so true, there is a point here: heterosexual people shouldn't get married either, nor have their relationships recognised by society (har har har!).
Enough of this. I had a great break and a good beginning of the year, though it's a bit of a downer that the break is over. I hope you're all fine out there, too.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Morbid mood
Today i visited the Musei Capitolini, which contain an amazing collection of art and remains from ancient roman times. The pieces they have are described in their website, so i won't go into that here. In their basement, however, there is a tabularium, meaning a display of inscribed stone tablets, mostly funerary stele. This one, from the 2nd century a.C., caught my eye, so i transcribed it:
Dis•Manibus
ALEXANDER•VIXIT•ANNIS•III
MENSIBUS•IV•DIEBUS•XIIX
Quintus•CANVILEVS•ALEXANDER•PATER
ET•CLARINA•MATER•FILO•CARISSIMO
PIENTISSIMO•BENE•Merenti•FECERunt
Hic•Conditus•Est•Te•Rogo•Praeteriens•Dicas:•Sit•Tibi•Terra•Levis.
My knowledge of latin is nil, but i wanted to set it here in the original language to try to transmit some of the impact of seeing such an old pain, set in stone. This is the translation provided by the museum:
Sacred to the Mani gods.
Alexander. Lived 3 years,
4 months and 18 days.
His father Quintus Canuileus Alexander
and his mother Clarina [had this tomb] made
for their very dear, devoted and deserving son.
Here is he buried! I beg you, while you pass [this place] say:
"May the earth weigh not over your remains."
The stone was small, the lettering irregular. A son lost, but a fragment of the suffering of his parents has been dredged from oblivion. For what purpose?
Dis•Manibus
ALEXANDER•VIXIT•ANNIS•III
MENSIBUS•IV•DIEBUS•XIIX
Quintus•CANVILEVS•ALEXANDER•PATER
ET•CLARINA•MATER•FILO•CARISSIMO
PIENTISSIMO•BENE•Merenti•FECERunt
Hic•Conditus•Est•Te•Rogo•Praeteriens•Dicas:•Sit•Tibi•Terra•Levis.
My knowledge of latin is nil, but i wanted to set it here in the original language to try to transmit some of the impact of seeing such an old pain, set in stone. This is the translation provided by the museum:
Sacred to the Mani gods.
Alexander. Lived 3 years,
4 months and 18 days.
His father Quintus Canuileus Alexander
and his mother Clarina [had this tomb] made
for their very dear, devoted and deserving son.
Here is he buried! I beg you, while you pass [this place] say:
"May the earth weigh not over your remains."
The stone was small, the lettering irregular. A son lost, but a fragment of the suffering of his parents has been dredged from oblivion. For what purpose?
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