Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The Spanish Ministry of Defense?
Wow! This sitemeter stuff is really cool! Apparently someone from the Spanish Ministry of Defense just visited my blog. Maybe to check that i'm not a security risk?
Monday, October 30, 2006
Slippery slope
I saw two people slipping on the ice today. Came very close to being number three a couple of times, too. Buying a pair of those rubber things with spikes to attach to shoes seems a necessity here.
On the other hand, i was waiting for the bus today and noticed that the whole area around the bus stop, including a stretch of sidewalk up and down from it, are not only free of ice but totally dry. Same thing on the other side of the road. I bent down to touch the ground, and yes, it's warm. Heating elements under the pavement, i suppose.
Now that i think of it, i've seen such dry patches around the city, particularly downtown. One more factor that underlies Norway's high energy consumption, no doubt. Of course, it is either spend on that, or on mending broken bones and dislocated joints.
On the other hand, i was waiting for the bus today and noticed that the whole area around the bus stop, including a stretch of sidewalk up and down from it, are not only free of ice but totally dry. Same thing on the other side of the road. I bent down to touch the ground, and yes, it's warm. Heating elements under the pavement, i suppose.
Now that i think of it, i've seen such dry patches around the city, particularly downtown. One more factor that underlies Norway's high energy consumption, no doubt. Of course, it is either spend on that, or on mending broken bones and dislocated joints.
On cosmetics, again
Back to the topic of people's obsession with beauty products, M. sent me the following link yesterday (it's in danish, but if you took norwegian ab initio, you should be able to get the gist of it. If you don't, be thankful):
A special kind of facial cream
I didn't know they were doing this kind of research at this egregious alma mater of mine, and it's hard to believe someone would buy such a product. Although, on the other hand, people have been buying creams with collagen for years now, and they get that compound from placentas.
Hey, wanna make some money? Sells us your placenta after your baby's born! S/he doesn't need it anymore, and it can help smooth some wrinkles off somebody's face somewhere.
A special kind of facial cream
I didn't know they were doing this kind of research at this egregious alma mater of mine, and it's hard to believe someone would buy such a product. Although, on the other hand, people have been buying creams with collagen for years now, and they get that compound from placentas.
Hey, wanna make some money? Sells us your placenta after your baby's born! S/he doesn't need it anymore, and it can help smooth some wrinkles off somebody's face somewhere.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Night storm
It's still snowing, and very windy. Under the cones of light cast by street lights the snow passes fast, thick, torn from roofs and treetops, as if the world is crumbling into dust. Most of it feels gone, already, turned into a haze that makes the dark air syrupy. Eddies form on the downwind side of buildings; a snowplough driver has taken a break and is having a smoke outside, protected by the bulk of the machine. She seems content, in a thoughtful mood, but satisfied.
Just went out
Just went out to get lunch. As i was arriving back, it stopped snowing. This is what the facade of my student residence looks like today:
A 250 ton monster
"Candidate (20e) wins when DEP is dominated by the others", "LIN ranks higher than MAX, thus the violations that do occur are not fatal" and "This discussion also serves to introduce evidence of a conspiracy between substitution and deletion"... Fragments from a yellow mystery? A sumo match commentary? An article about sexual abuse in the military? Hardly. Just excerpts from a couple of articles i'm reading for my phonology class. I'm expected to produce their abstracts and present them in class.
Apparently, phonologists love to personify their study subjects. Yet, considering that what phonology studies is how different sound features interact in human speech, it is disorienting to think authors would go to the bother of giving human traits to processes that are so inmaterial. Plus, why complicate things with metaphores? Isn't this stuff unintelligible enough already? Granted, drawing comparisons can be helpful sometimes, but in this case i just find them distracting.
"Candidate (20e) ended up leading the mission because of his interpersonal skills. He proved to be the only one able to get the other finalists to act in a coordinated manner, and since such coordination was the only way in which the cruel DEP could be defeated, everybody accepted his dominance. Massing 250 tons and towering over the city's skyscrapers, DEP was created to test that those citizens aspiring to replace the mayor would really risk their life for the welfare of their hometown."
That's more like it! But i'm sure this is not the kind of abstract they are after.
Apparently, phonologists love to personify their study subjects. Yet, considering that what phonology studies is how different sound features interact in human speech, it is disorienting to think authors would go to the bother of giving human traits to processes that are so inmaterial. Plus, why complicate things with metaphores? Isn't this stuff unintelligible enough already? Granted, drawing comparisons can be helpful sometimes, but in this case i just find them distracting.
"Candidate (20e) ended up leading the mission because of his interpersonal skills. He proved to be the only one able to get the other finalists to act in a coordinated manner, and since such coordination was the only way in which the cruel DEP could be defeated, everybody accepted his dominance. Massing 250 tons and towering over the city's skyscrapers, DEP was created to test that those citizens aspiring to replace the mayor would really risk their life for the welfare of their hometown."
That's more like it! But i'm sure this is not the kind of abstract they are after.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Reflections
I enjoy looking at reflections. I agree with Borges: mirrors make you believe they are gateways to other universes. Windowpanes even more so, as you can see both what lies behind them and, superimposed on that, another place, ghostly, both there and not there. Mannequins with paralytic smiles modelling the season's latest, and at the same time buses and cars and people scurrying in all directions; the warm bustle of a university entrance hall and likewise an open, gray sky, leaves falling from tree branches and a dot in the distance that turns out to be a helicopter.
And then, if you focus, you meet your own eyes, your choices. Perfect imitators, those others, but each different.
Two realities coincide on the reflective surface, and for a few seconds or minutes they are both cordinated. But as soon as we move out of the frame our paths diverge, and while i bend down to tie my shoelace, he's done something totally unexpected, like bumped into a rhinoceros or adjusted his breathing pack in order to take a walk on the surface of his planet.
Maybe he gives me the finger, too, and i just can't see him doing it.
And then, if you focus, you meet your own eyes, your choices. Perfect imitators, those others, but each different.
Two realities coincide on the reflective surface, and for a few seconds or minutes they are both cordinated. But as soon as we move out of the frame our paths diverge, and while i bend down to tie my shoelace, he's done something totally unexpected, like bumped into a rhinoceros or adjusted his breathing pack in order to take a walk on the surface of his planet.
Maybe he gives me the finger, too, and i just can't see him doing it.
Mining
Meridian Gold is a multinational company with base in Canada, interested in exploiting an open air, gold and silver mine in Esquel, Argentina. It promised employment for 300 workers, but a group of neighbors started a campaign to bar operations. Since the separation of gold and silver from their ores requires the use of cyanide and arsenic respectively, people were worried about the possible contamination of rivers and ground water. They formed a neighbor assembly, organized peaceful protests and finally convinced the communal authorities to call for a plebiscite. The voting options: yes to the mine, no to the mine.
In turn, Meridian Gold organized "information events" designed to convince the constituency of the supposed safety of their intended enterprise. Barbecue, training shoes and other gifts were offered to those attending, a strategy that has been common in the political past ("past"?) of Argentina.
In any case, people ate the barbecue, accepted the shoes and other gifts and in march 2003 went to vote. 75% of the municipality's voters showed up, a record high. Of all ballots, 81% went to "No to the mine". This should have been the end of the matter.
"A people who do not sell themselves cannot be bought", said an inhabitant of Esquel on TV. But there is always a but, and money has its weight, particularly when there is a lot of it to go around among politicians and corrupt union workers. You may not want to be bought, but you might still be sold. Of course, again, one may wonder why ethically enlightened nations allow unethical companies based on their soil to conduct such unethical business with such unethical partners.
In any case, and since we are talking about corruption, consider the following facts:
1) Meridian Gold's work plan would mean an extraction of gold from the Esquel mine equivalent to 2.5 billion dollars in 10 years. Silver production is not included in these calculations.
2) Law 25.161 states that the argentinean nation may only receive a maximal 3% in commissions from any company exploiting mineral deposits within its borders. These commissions will be calculated on the value of the mineral as it is extracted from the mine, which is always much lower than after refinement. Incidentally, the same laws say that the argentinean state can exploit mineral deposits only through private companies (it still would have to prove to me that it would do a cleaner job, but at least it'd have more incentives to do so. In any case, this fact does give an idea of the thinking behind such laws. Let's encourage investment by all means, right?).
3) In round numbers, and assuming that the value of the gold, as extracted from the mine, were equivalent 2 billion dollars in 10 years, the part corresponding to the state would be some 60 million dollars. However, since the 3% figure is only a maximum set by national law, Chubut province (where Esquel is) has legislated that 2% should be enough (Provincial Law 004018). We are down to 40 million dollars.
4) Another couple of interesting national laws that help illustrate the situation are 23.018 & 24.490. In order to favor exports from Patagonia, the state will reimburse 5% of the value of such exports to the exporters. This would mean that Meridian Gold would be receiving 125 million additional dollars.
THUS, ARGENTINA WOULD BE PAYING 85 MILLION DOLLARS TO MERIDIAN GOLD SO THAT THEY CAN TAKE 2.5 BILLION DOLLARS AWAY!
And this is without taking into account other "incentives", such as a 100% deduction of prospecting expenses (law 24.196), the promise that taxing will remain constant for 30 years (same law), and a long etc.
Going back to the situation in Esquel, here are the developments after the plebiscite.
The company promised to respect the decision, but started lobbying for exploitation again shortly after. Public resistance continued and, finally, on july 14th of this year the province proclaimed a moratorium on mining in the Esquel area... for a period of three years (hoping that it will be long enough for people to forget?). Then, this month, the argentinean subsidiary of Meridian Gold took six citizens of Esquel to the federal court, accused of making public a recording of a 2003 meeting of CEOs and consultants of the firm. In it one of the executives is clearly heard saying: "the people of Esquel must not know that we intend to bend their will".
You can find more information about all of this on:
www.noalamina.org (Spanish. This is the site created by the Esquel neighbors.)
http://www.anred.org/article.php3?id_article=1786 (Spanish)
http://www.nodirtygold.org/esquel_argentina.cfm (English, but a bit dated: 2003)
If you want to hear the company's side of the story, here is their website:
http://www.meridiangold.com
You can phone them at their headquarters and ask them (phone is the only choice, as the only e-mail they publish on their website is for you to contact them if you want employment):
Meridian Gold Inc.
9670 Gateway Drive, Suite 200
Reno, Nevada 89521
Telephone: +1 775 850 3777
Also, to learn more about mining investment policies in Argentina, you can go to
http://www.inversiones.gov.ar/documentos/mineria.pdf
You can check there that i'm not exaggerating. Again, unfortunately, this is only for Spanish speakers.
Finally, here are some people you can call:
Matilde Lenzano: +54 2945 453713
Lino Pizzolon: +54 2945 453679
Silvia Pérez: +54 2945 454811
Chuni Botto: +54 2945 452521
These are some of the Esquel inhabitants in the neighbor assembly. The one i talked to is Silvia Pérez.
In turn, Meridian Gold organized "information events" designed to convince the constituency of the supposed safety of their intended enterprise. Barbecue, training shoes and other gifts were offered to those attending, a strategy that has been common in the political past ("past"?) of Argentina.
In any case, people ate the barbecue, accepted the shoes and other gifts and in march 2003 went to vote. 75% of the municipality's voters showed up, a record high. Of all ballots, 81% went to "No to the mine". This should have been the end of the matter.
"A people who do not sell themselves cannot be bought", said an inhabitant of Esquel on TV. But there is always a but, and money has its weight, particularly when there is a lot of it to go around among politicians and corrupt union workers. You may not want to be bought, but you might still be sold. Of course, again, one may wonder why ethically enlightened nations allow unethical companies based on their soil to conduct such unethical business with such unethical partners.
In any case, and since we are talking about corruption, consider the following facts:
1) Meridian Gold's work plan would mean an extraction of gold from the Esquel mine equivalent to 2.5 billion dollars in 10 years. Silver production is not included in these calculations.
2) Law 25.161 states that the argentinean nation may only receive a maximal 3% in commissions from any company exploiting mineral deposits within its borders. These commissions will be calculated on the value of the mineral as it is extracted from the mine, which is always much lower than after refinement. Incidentally, the same laws say that the argentinean state can exploit mineral deposits only through private companies (it still would have to prove to me that it would do a cleaner job, but at least it'd have more incentives to do so. In any case, this fact does give an idea of the thinking behind such laws. Let's encourage investment by all means, right?).
3) In round numbers, and assuming that the value of the gold, as extracted from the mine, were equivalent 2 billion dollars in 10 years, the part corresponding to the state would be some 60 million dollars. However, since the 3% figure is only a maximum set by national law, Chubut province (where Esquel is) has legislated that 2% should be enough (Provincial Law 004018). We are down to 40 million dollars.
4) Another couple of interesting national laws that help illustrate the situation are 23.018 & 24.490. In order to favor exports from Patagonia, the state will reimburse 5% of the value of such exports to the exporters. This would mean that Meridian Gold would be receiving 125 million additional dollars.
THUS, ARGENTINA WOULD BE PAYING 85 MILLION DOLLARS TO MERIDIAN GOLD SO THAT THEY CAN TAKE 2.5 BILLION DOLLARS AWAY!
And this is without taking into account other "incentives", such as a 100% deduction of prospecting expenses (law 24.196), the promise that taxing will remain constant for 30 years (same law), and a long etc.
Going back to the situation in Esquel, here are the developments after the plebiscite.
The company promised to respect the decision, but started lobbying for exploitation again shortly after. Public resistance continued and, finally, on july 14th of this year the province proclaimed a moratorium on mining in the Esquel area... for a period of three years (hoping that it will be long enough for people to forget?). Then, this month, the argentinean subsidiary of Meridian Gold took six citizens of Esquel to the federal court, accused of making public a recording of a 2003 meeting of CEOs and consultants of the firm. In it one of the executives is clearly heard saying: "the people of Esquel must not know that we intend to bend their will".
You can find more information about all of this on:
www.noalamina.org (Spanish. This is the site created by the Esquel neighbors.)
http://www.anred.org/article.php3?id_article=1786 (Spanish)
http://www.nodirtygold.org/esquel_argentina.cfm (English, but a bit dated: 2003)
If you want to hear the company's side of the story, here is their website:
http://www.meridiangold.com
You can phone them at their headquarters and ask them (phone is the only choice, as the only e-mail they publish on their website is for you to contact them if you want employment):
Meridian Gold Inc.
9670 Gateway Drive, Suite 200
Reno, Nevada 89521
Telephone: +1 775 850 3777
Also, to learn more about mining investment policies in Argentina, you can go to
http://www.inversiones.gov.ar/documentos/mineria.pdf
You can check there that i'm not exaggerating. Again, unfortunately, this is only for Spanish speakers.
Finally, here are some people you can call:
Matilde Lenzano: +54 2945 453713
Lino Pizzolon: +54 2945 453679
Silvia Pérez: +54 2945 454811
Chuni Botto: +54 2945 452521
These are some of the Esquel inhabitants in the neighbor assembly. The one i talked to is Silvia Pérez.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Huh?
"Although we cannot find that a fundamental right to same-sex marriage exists in this state, the unequal dispensation of rights and benefits to committed same-sex partners can no longer be tolerated under our state Constitution," Justice Barry T. Albin from New Jersey argued, in passing a state court ruling that does... exactly what?
Does he mean find as in when you're looking for something, or find as in "pass judgement"? If the first, duh! Gay marriage is nowhere to be found. At least not in that constitution he refers to towards the end, which is where i supposed he would have looked. If the second, why can he not pass judgement on it being a fundamental right? "The unequal dispensation of rights and benefits to committed same-sex partners can no longer be tolerated", but marriage is one of those rights, isn't it?
Maybe he meant that the constitution must be interpreted to say that denying such rights is inconstitutional, even though it does not expressly allow homosexual marriages. If so, it needs to be changed to include them.
OK, 6-7 for clarity. As for intentions, let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
Does he mean find as in when you're looking for something, or find as in "pass judgement"? If the first, duh! Gay marriage is nowhere to be found. At least not in that constitution he refers to towards the end, which is where i supposed he would have looked. If the second, why can he not pass judgement on it being a fundamental right? "The unequal dispensation of rights and benefits to committed same-sex partners can no longer be tolerated", but marriage is one of those rights, isn't it?
Maybe he meant that the constitution must be interpreted to say that denying such rights is inconstitutional, even though it does not expressly allow homosexual marriages. If so, it needs to be changed to include them.
OK, 6-7 for clarity. As for intentions, let's give him the benefit of the doubt.
Beauty marks and the such
Yesterday i watched "Some like it hot", with Marilyn Monroe. Neat movie, but minds work strangely, and since mine is very weird --as it's been amply shown here-- it started mulling on the beauty mark Marilyn had above her lip. From there it locked on to the words "beauty mark" themselves. Why not simply "mole"? What is it about a mole that creates beauty? Placement? Maybe. I have a mole on my neck, but haven't been asked to star in any movies, so it probably doesn't qualify... Shape? My mole is lumpy and not totally round, with a couple of hairs coming out of it. They do say beauty is in the eye of the beholder though, so if you're interested, remind me to show it to you next time we meet.
Anyway, back to real beauty marks. I've read somewhere that two or three centuries ago they were the rage in France, particularly among the high classes. Except they weren't real beauty marks, but fake ones. Both men and women would glue bits of black taffeta to their faces in the hope of heightening their looks. But isn't a mole, by definition, an imperfection on the smooth surface that the skin is supposed to be? How could fake moles make them more beautiful? What the heck were they thinking?
The french aristocracy of the time has such a bad reputation already (i mean, their heads ended up being chopped off, so they must have been quite nasty) that i'm sure nobody would mind my interpretation: they thought themselves so perfect already, that they wanted to pretend they had imperfections, pretend being the keyword. "Hey, look" they were saying with their bits of black taffeta. "I'm so perfect that even my imperfections are fake."
But, as it turns out, i'm wrong. I got on the net and the story is quite different. Before i go on, and in case you're wondering, i do have much better things to do (i.e. homework) but it's boring.
In any case, the fashion of sticking bits of cloth to the face originated in England in the XVIth century, not in France. In that country and at that time, people would use not only black taffeta, but all kinds of fabric, and even leather, all dyed different colors. They'd plaster themselves with several pieces at a time, cut out in various shapes. It seems that smallpox was rampant, and these patches were supposed to cover the not-so-beautiful marks the sickness left behind. That it later became a fashion even for the unscarred is not so surprising, given the monkey-see-monkey-do monkeys that we are.
Me, if i'd had to choose, i would have worn the carriage and horses. Rather that than making a hole in my nose and hooking a bit of metal through it.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Sunday, October 22, 2006
More
27 hours of continuous snowfall, so far. We're up to 50 cm already. This means no more rain till at least april, i hope.
Friday, October 20, 2006
Faces
Thinking of faces. What are they? When you're a child you draw them as an oval; then you attach eyes, a nose, a mouth. Ears, too, if you're really into details. That's why Mr. Potato head is such a popular toy, i suppose. We're obsessed with faces. We love to attach things to them, to guess their story. If you're shy you avert your eyes, as if looking away from a face made your own disappear.
There is no other part of the body we decorate more: rouge, lipstick, earrings, shaving, waxing, filing away of cheekbones, whitening tooth paste, facial soap, piercings, base, depilation, nose-hair trimming, silicones for the lips, rimmel, glittery dental caps, eye-shadow, mint drops, artificial eyelashes, haircuts, lip balm, wigs, nose jobs, facial scrubs, liftings, anti-wrinkle cream...
Yet we don't consciously think of faces all that much. I guess that as we grow up we become used to them. We learn to see them as a whole. Only sometimes you pull back, and you wonder why a nose is where it is. You're taken aback, your analytical mind hits static.
The mouth, smooth and red, tiny vertical lines on lips, and where the lips meet, an angle, as if a hinge. The mouth is not round. Sometimes there is that fuzz that grows above the upper lip, those creases that converge on the toothy gap, fractured as if river canyons that run to an inland sea. The tongue, why wet? The nose, no such thing as a cute one: all grotesque, mountains and caves on a smooth plain. The ears, atrophied things that do not move, misplaced, the wings on Mercury's sandals. The eyes frustrating, not windows of the soul but a reminder that you can never get past them, you can't ever really get in. The forehead that goes on and on, a wasteland, twin to the cheeks.
There is no other part of the body we decorate more: rouge, lipstick, earrings, shaving, waxing, filing away of cheekbones, whitening tooth paste, facial soap, piercings, base, depilation, nose-hair trimming, silicones for the lips, rimmel, glittery dental caps, eye-shadow, mint drops, artificial eyelashes, haircuts, lip balm, wigs, nose jobs, facial scrubs, liftings, anti-wrinkle cream...
Yet we don't consciously think of faces all that much. I guess that as we grow up we become used to them. We learn to see them as a whole. Only sometimes you pull back, and you wonder why a nose is where it is. You're taken aback, your analytical mind hits static.
The mouth, smooth and red, tiny vertical lines on lips, and where the lips meet, an angle, as if a hinge. The mouth is not round. Sometimes there is that fuzz that grows above the upper lip, those creases that converge on the toothy gap, fractured as if river canyons that run to an inland sea. The tongue, why wet? The nose, no such thing as a cute one: all grotesque, mountains and caves on a smooth plain. The ears, atrophied things that do not move, misplaced, the wings on Mercury's sandals. The eyes frustrating, not windows of the soul but a reminder that you can never get past them, you can't ever really get in. The forehead that goes on and on, a wasteland, twin to the cheeks.
A skewed view
Legs: the twin appendages that grow out of the ground till they connect with the hips. Regularly and alternatively uprooted, they may allow the hypothetic wearer a motion of some kind.
Coffee: the perfect drink for the insomniac. It unnaturally extends wakefulness, so that when its effects wear off the organism is truly exhausted and sleep can be easily achieved.
Canned guacamole dip: a paste made of soya oil and maltodextrin designed to taste as nearly unlike avocados and tomatoes as scientifically possible.
the moon: generic name for the luminiscent circles or sickle shapes that are occasionally cut out of the sky when it turns dark.
boredom: the irresistible desire to do nothing.
Coffee: the perfect drink for the insomniac. It unnaturally extends wakefulness, so that when its effects wear off the organism is truly exhausted and sleep can be easily achieved.
Canned guacamole dip: a paste made of soya oil and maltodextrin designed to taste as nearly unlike avocados and tomatoes as scientifically possible.
the moon: generic name for the luminiscent circles or sickle shapes that are occasionally cut out of the sky when it turns dark.
boredom: the irresistible desire to do nothing.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
The prediction
I don't remember the exact circumstances, but when i got to Guangzhou and attempted to buy the train ticket to Hong Kong, they would not take my money. Somehow it wasn't possible for me to get any until i got to the Hong Kong side, but i couldn't get there without it... So, i stood in the platform, smelly clothes and huge backpack on my shoulder, and explained the situation to some passersby: do you speak english? could you please pay for my ticket, and i will give you back the money as soon as we arrive?
Finally this guy stopped, looked me up and down, asked me a few questions about myself, and agreed to help me.
We started chatting on the train. He was cantonese, 40-something, i guessed. He asked me what i was doing in China, what my occupation was, where i lived... Then it was my turn to ask. He said he worked for some kind of organisation, Maharishi something-or-other. As he talked i realized Maharishi was a new age institution or group: he talked about energies, life lines, predestination... I don't exactly remember, either. This was 15 years ago, after all.
He was helping me, and he didn't seem to be proselitizing, so we had an animated conversation. However, when i tried to ask somewhat critical questions about some of the stuff he said, he didn't seem to like it very much; i figured he'd be happier if i just let him talk, so i only asked enough to keep him going. At some point (i don't know how we got there) he was reading my palm, and that part i remember very well.
He said i am the eldest of three brothers --i am--, he said i was born in march --i was-- and he said i would die in a catastrophe at age 34 --i stared at him.
"Really?" i asked after a couple of seconds.
"Well, one can never be completely sure, but as far as i can tell, yes. There will be a big disaster, and you'll be one of the victims" he said.
"And is there any way i can avoid it?"
"No. [Destiny something or other]"
I was remembering this stuff yesterday afternoon, as it was the 34th birthday of a guy at the uni today. Maybe i should have waited to write about it till i turned 35 myself, but what if that catastrophe gets in the way?
Not that i'm very worried, really. He himself said i shouldn't, and that i'd meet the woman who'd be my wife in the following weeks.
Finally this guy stopped, looked me up and down, asked me a few questions about myself, and agreed to help me.
We started chatting on the train. He was cantonese, 40-something, i guessed. He asked me what i was doing in China, what my occupation was, where i lived... Then it was my turn to ask. He said he worked for some kind of organisation, Maharishi something-or-other. As he talked i realized Maharishi was a new age institution or group: he talked about energies, life lines, predestination... I don't exactly remember, either. This was 15 years ago, after all.
He was helping me, and he didn't seem to be proselitizing, so we had an animated conversation. However, when i tried to ask somewhat critical questions about some of the stuff he said, he didn't seem to like it very much; i figured he'd be happier if i just let him talk, so i only asked enough to keep him going. At some point (i don't know how we got there) he was reading my palm, and that part i remember very well.
He said i am the eldest of three brothers --i am--, he said i was born in march --i was-- and he said i would die in a catastrophe at age 34 --i stared at him.
"Really?" i asked after a couple of seconds.
"Well, one can never be completely sure, but as far as i can tell, yes. There will be a big disaster, and you'll be one of the victims" he said.
"And is there any way i can avoid it?"
"No. [Destiny something or other]"
I was remembering this stuff yesterday afternoon, as it was the 34th birthday of a guy at the uni today. Maybe i should have waited to write about it till i turned 35 myself, but what if that catastrophe gets in the way?
Not that i'm very worried, really. He himself said i shouldn't, and that i'd meet the woman who'd be my wife in the following weeks.
Some yummy crumbles of that pie
(by Don McLean)
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And i knew if i had my chance
That i could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while.
Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the bible tells you so?
Now, do you believe in rock 'n roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance
Real slow?
Well, i know you're in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm 'n' blues!
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But i knew that i was out of luck
The day the music died.
A long, long time ago...
I can still remember
How that music used to make me smile.
And i knew if i had my chance
That i could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while.
Did you write the book of love,
And do you have faith in God above,
If the bible tells you so?
Now, do you believe in rock 'n roll?
Can music save your mortal soul?
And can you teach me how to dance
Real slow?
Well, i know you're in love with him
'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym.
You both kicked off your shoes.
Man, I dig those rhythm 'n' blues!
I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But i knew that i was out of luck
The day the music died.
A room with a view
Check out this link out:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3491667610082638914&pr=goog-sl
It is a video that Thomas B. made by splicing together pictures taken from a window in Andresen building. He apparently took them during the same time of day throughout a few weeks in the fall of 2004: this beauty is the result. I came across it in a link on the college's homepage. Hadn't visited in a while, was nice to be back.
Thanks, Thomas.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=3491667610082638914&pr=goog-sl
It is a video that Thomas B. made by splicing together pictures taken from a window in Andresen building. He apparently took them during the same time of day throughout a few weeks in the fall of 2004: this beauty is the result. I came across it in a link on the college's homepage. Hadn't visited in a while, was nice to be back.
Thanks, Thomas.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Aural clues
I'm in my office. I close my eyes and i can know:
how much it's snowed by the almost mute quality of the sounds made by cars in the street outside; that Kwame hasn't peed in a long time because the splashing in the toilet goes on forever; that the air i'm breathing has come to me through tubes, by the whispering of the ventilation system; that my chewing of the gum in my mouth pushes aside the saliva that covers it over and over, by the squelching sounds produced every time i sink my teeth in it; that there is some kind of spring underneath the keys on the computer's keyboard, because i hear them twang faintly when i release them.
how much it's snowed by the almost mute quality of the sounds made by cars in the street outside; that Kwame hasn't peed in a long time because the splashing in the toilet goes on forever; that the air i'm breathing has come to me through tubes, by the whispering of the ventilation system; that my chewing of the gum in my mouth pushes aside the saliva that covers it over and over, by the squelching sounds produced every time i sink my teeth in it; that there is some kind of spring underneath the keys on the computer's keyboard, because i hear them twang faintly when i release them.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Madre de lejos
Que estoy sola me dice mi madre
Sola de mañana y de tarde sola
Y de noche. Que estudio italiano
Que enseño pintura y lavo los platos
Pero las alumnas son viejas cornejas
Y los platos son platos y no les hablo
aún.
Que quiero salir, manejar otra vez
Que desde aquel accidente no lo volví a hacer
Quiero afuera y quiero gente.
Y yo que de lejos la veo
Desde este país para acá del teléfono
Siento que su vida se me achica dentro
La extraño y extraño los años que tuvo y no tuvo
Por pobreza de niña,
Por matrimonio joven,
Por cinco hijos ya a los veintiséis
Por cuidar a su madre
Por quiste en matriz
Por educación de niña que le dice
Que debe sacrificar todas sus perdices
Por sus hijos, por su casa y por todos
Que vos venís última, después
De los otros.
Que salga le digo que valga
Que tenga y que haga
Que merece que necesita
Que debe y que no debe
Y ya estamos otra vez
En una novela de la tele.
Y ella que si, que tanto,
Que lo hará, me dice
Que quiere
Que ya habló con mi padre
Que el año que viene.
La vida de mi madre
se me achica dentro.
Sola de mañana y de tarde sola
Y de noche. Que estudio italiano
Que enseño pintura y lavo los platos
Pero las alumnas son viejas cornejas
Y los platos son platos y no les hablo
aún.
Que quiero salir, manejar otra vez
Que desde aquel accidente no lo volví a hacer
Quiero afuera y quiero gente.
Y yo que de lejos la veo
Desde este país para acá del teléfono
Siento que su vida se me achica dentro
La extraño y extraño los años que tuvo y no tuvo
Por pobreza de niña,
Por matrimonio joven,
Por cinco hijos ya a los veintiséis
Por cuidar a su madre
Por quiste en matriz
Por educación de niña que le dice
Que debe sacrificar todas sus perdices
Por sus hijos, por su casa y por todos
Que vos venís última, después
De los otros.
Que salga le digo que valga
Que tenga y que haga
Que merece que necesita
Que debe y que no debe
Y ya estamos otra vez
En una novela de la tele.
Y ella que si, que tanto,
Que lo hará, me dice
Que quiere
Que ya habló con mi padre
Que el año que viene.
La vida de mi madre
se me achica dentro.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Lost opportunity
I think i may have just missed a job opportunity... It happened like this:
I'm checking my e-mail just now and there's a message from Per, one of the professors at the linguistics department. He says he needs an interpreter who can do italian-english-italian simultaneous translations for all day tomorrow. There's this cook who's arriving from down there, and they need to communicate with him. Someone told Per i speak italian, so if i get the msg today could i please give him a call at such and such number, no matter the hour? I'd be paid, of course...
It's 11:00 pm, sunday night... Am excited about the possibility, but the message was sent in the morning. What if the guy's in bed already? Anyways, i decide to call. He sounds glad i did, but tells me they've already found someone else. Nevertheless, it's good to have my number, he says, in case the other person doesn't show up. He asks about my italian and i honestly admit i'm no native speaker, but that i know i can manage. "Do you know much about cooking, then?", he says.
I don't intend to, but burst out laughing. I mean, in the past two months i haven't used the kitchen for anything other than boiling water, defrosting pizza, and cooking rømme graut (once)! With this thought in my mind, i giggle stupidly for a few seconds longer; silence on the other side. I finally catch my breath: "Well, i can identify ingredients. Don't ask me to put them together, though...".
"Hmmmm, good. Keep your phone with you tomorrow, and we'll give you a call you if we need you, ok? Thanks for answering to my message."
"Thank you for the chance", i say, and we hang up.
Somehow i don't think they'll call me. Seemed like in order to translate cooking, you need to be a cook yourself. Either that, or to sound a little less hysterical on the phone.
I'm checking my e-mail just now and there's a message from Per, one of the professors at the linguistics department. He says he needs an interpreter who can do italian-english-italian simultaneous translations for all day tomorrow. There's this cook who's arriving from down there, and they need to communicate with him. Someone told Per i speak italian, so if i get the msg today could i please give him a call at such and such number, no matter the hour? I'd be paid, of course...
It's 11:00 pm, sunday night... Am excited about the possibility, but the message was sent in the morning. What if the guy's in bed already? Anyways, i decide to call. He sounds glad i did, but tells me they've already found someone else. Nevertheless, it's good to have my number, he says, in case the other person doesn't show up. He asks about my italian and i honestly admit i'm no native speaker, but that i know i can manage. "Do you know much about cooking, then?", he says.
I don't intend to, but burst out laughing. I mean, in the past two months i haven't used the kitchen for anything other than boiling water, defrosting pizza, and cooking rømme graut (once)! With this thought in my mind, i giggle stupidly for a few seconds longer; silence on the other side. I finally catch my breath: "Well, i can identify ingredients. Don't ask me to put them together, though...".
"Hmmmm, good. Keep your phone with you tomorrow, and we'll give you a call you if we need you, ok? Thanks for answering to my message."
"Thank you for the chance", i say, and we hang up.
Somehow i don't think they'll call me. Seemed like in order to translate cooking, you need to be a cook yourself. Either that, or to sound a little less hysterical on the phone.
Allegory
Ian and North Kathy want to start smoking. I want them not to. I smoke myself, so i really have no authority to say anything to them, but i'm big and burly and i could kick the shit outta them. That's my leverage. If anybody asks, i'll say that i'm older, more mature, and that i know how to smoke responsibly, whereas they don't. They could ruin their lungs and those of everybody around them.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Physical bits
We leave behind physical bits of ourselves throughout our lives -- no need to go into details here, but when you think about it, all of it put together probably weighs more than the body does at death. Yet it is that body that we focus on: we either embalm it and/or entomb it in little funereal cities within cities, or we spend a lot of caloric energy to turn it into ashes. Why not lay it underneath a tree, to feed it quickly to life, or recycle it in some other fashion? Fifty or one hundred kilos is a lot of organic matter.
We don't like to think of death. We think it is obscene.
I suppose it is, to some extent, but like so much else, it is also its context.
We don't like to think of death. We think it is obscene.
I suppose it is, to some extent, but like so much else, it is also its context.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Zero
Have you seen the add campaign for Coke Zero? Big bold letters that say something like "REAL TASTE, ZERO SUGAR" and underneath that, different captions: "Then why not action movies with zero romance?" or "Why not a girlfriend with zero headaches?" or (my personal favourite) "Why not two girlfriends with zero jealousy?".
G-E-N-I-U-S! I mean, the way this kind of publicity focuses on us guys! Consider the reasoning behind it: girls are already so freaked about their physical image that they'll always buy low sugar sodas anyway, so you don't have to convince them of anything. They'll buy this Zero stuff even if the add campaign were purposefully trying to alienate them -- which it doesn't really, right? After all, everybody knows that guys hate all that mushy romance crap, and that we'd go out with two or more girls at once if we could. Boys will be boys, ikke sant?
So this campaign is really positive, as it puts the dots on the i's and lets us all know where we stand. Guys like me will feel thankful for the reassurance and sense of belonging provided: that i can't get my mind off my girlfriend's boobies while she's concentrating on the latest chick-flick, or that i want to hump her and her best friend too (possibly together), does not make me a freak... That's what we men do! ("Besides, man, i wouldn't be cheating. I do love them both!"). As a token of our gratitude, boys and men everywhere will buy Coke Zero. Girls and women will chug Zero down, too, while dreaming of becoming slim enough to have the possibility of being two-timed jealouslessly.
Real doo-doo, Zero sense.
G-E-N-I-U-S! I mean, the way this kind of publicity focuses on us guys! Consider the reasoning behind it: girls are already so freaked about their physical image that they'll always buy low sugar sodas anyway, so you don't have to convince them of anything. They'll buy this Zero stuff even if the add campaign were purposefully trying to alienate them -- which it doesn't really, right? After all, everybody knows that guys hate all that mushy romance crap, and that we'd go out with two or more girls at once if we could. Boys will be boys, ikke sant?
So this campaign is really positive, as it puts the dots on the i's and lets us all know where we stand. Guys like me will feel thankful for the reassurance and sense of belonging provided: that i can't get my mind off my girlfriend's boobies while she's concentrating on the latest chick-flick, or that i want to hump her and her best friend too (possibly together), does not make me a freak... That's what we men do! ("Besides, man, i wouldn't be cheating. I do love them both!"). As a token of our gratitude, boys and men everywhere will buy Coke Zero. Girls and women will chug Zero down, too, while dreaming of becoming slim enough to have the possibility of being two-timed jealouslessly.
Real doo-doo, Zero sense.
Friday, October 06, 2006
The attack of latitude on convencional wisdom
The sun rises in the --south-- (if ever) and sets in the --south-- (if ever). At noon the sun is never directly above your head, but most probably at eye-height and blinding you while you're waiting for the bus.
Compuesto y sin novia
de Miguel de Molina
¡Ay! Tuve una novia modista
y un mal amigo me la quitó,
y tuvieron tres churumbeles
con la cabeza como un farol
y el guardia de los padrones
dijo "¡qué espanto! ¡qué atrocidá!
Cabeza de esta familia,
¡qué muchas de ellas!
¿quién lo será?
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del quebraero de tres cabezas
¡yo me he librao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mare, que la mía...
Son muchas complicaciones;
Soltero pa' toa la vía...
Ahí me encuentro yo al matrimonio
tos los domingos en el café,
con las caras 'e avinagraos
porque se aburren como un cipré.
Los niños rompen las tazas
y con la fuerza de un albañí,
le meten a pare y mare
la cucharilla por la narí.
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del tormento de la cuchara
¡yo me he salvao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mamá, que la mía...
Son muchas complicaciones, hombre.
¡Que a mí no me trinca nadie!
¿De dónde voy a atracar yo?
¡Que no me caso, vamos!
¿Les parece poco la muestra?
La casa de mis amigos
es un pellizco de habitación
y por eso duermen de noche
las tres cabezas en el balcón.
La casa se bambolea
con aquel peso fenomenal
y pitan las chimeneas
como los barcos por altamar.
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del terremoto de San Francisco
¡yo me he salvao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mamá, que la mía...
¡Qué monada! ¿Verdad?
¡Soltero pa' toa la vida!
¡Ay! Tuve una novia modista
y un mal amigo me la quitó,
y tuvieron tres churumbeles
con la cabeza como un farol
y el guardia de los padrones
dijo "¡qué espanto! ¡qué atrocidá!
Cabeza de esta familia,
¡qué muchas de ellas!
¿quién lo será?
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del quebraero de tres cabezas
¡yo me he librao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mare, que la mía...
Son muchas complicaciones;
Soltero pa' toa la vía...
Ahí me encuentro yo al matrimonio
tos los domingos en el café,
con las caras 'e avinagraos
porque se aburren como un cipré.
Los niños rompen las tazas
y con la fuerza de un albañí,
le meten a pare y mare
la cucharilla por la narí.
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del tormento de la cuchara
¡yo me he salvao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mamá, que la mía...
Son muchas complicaciones, hombre.
¡Que a mí no me trinca nadie!
¿De dónde voy a atracar yo?
¡Que no me caso, vamos!
¿Les parece poco la muestra?
La casa de mis amigos
es un pellizco de habitación
y por eso duermen de noche
las tres cabezas en el balcón.
La casa se bambolea
con aquel peso fenomenal
y pitan las chimeneas
como los barcos por altamar.
Con la modista
no me he casao
y del terremoto de San Francisco
¡yo me he salvao!
"¿Y por qué no te casas niño?"
dicen por los callejones.
Yo estoy compuesto y sin novia,
porque tengo mis razones...
Esposa, suegra y cuñao,
diez niños, y uno de cría
que la feria, que la gripe,
que tu mamá, que la mía...
¡Qué monada! ¿Verdad?
¡Soltero pa' toa la vida!
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Senryuu
泥棒を doroboo o
捕えてみれば toraete mireba
我が子なり wagako nari
------------------------------(Senryuu Karai)
My dad told me today about a situation in a school in my hometown. Apparently students, while celebrating the beginning of the summer vacations (two months in advance) vandalized school property and caused damages for several thousand dollars. The administration reacted by distributing sanctions, and parents have taken the school to court.
Catching him
You see the robber
Is your own son.
Well, i guess you should let him get on with his business, then.
捕えてみれば toraete mireba
我が子なり wagako nari
------------------------------(Senryuu Karai)
My dad told me today about a situation in a school in my hometown. Apparently students, while celebrating the beginning of the summer vacations (two months in advance) vandalized school property and caused damages for several thousand dollars. The administration reacted by distributing sanctions, and parents have taken the school to court.
Catching him
You see the robber
Is your own son.
Well, i guess you should let him get on with his business, then.
Determiner phrases
This is really cool. We talked about it in the syntax class last week.
Imagine the phrase "The five dead flies". Since this is english, the word order is "determiner >> numeral >> adjective >> noun". No other sequence is possible. "Flies five dead the", for instance, makes no sense at all. You might have something like "Five of these dead flies", but then the meaning is different, and you have that little "of" there, which you didn't have before.
In a language such as spanish, however, the order is different. You have "determiner >> numeral >> noun >> adjective", that is to say, "Estas cinco moscas muertas". "Determiner >> numeral >> adjective >> noun" is also permissible, but is not the 'original' form. It doesn't always sound well. If you want to test this, ask a native speaker to choose between "Estas cinco moscas muertas" and "Estas cinco muertas moscas". You'll see.
Other languages, such as yoruba, have as their order the exact opposite of english: "noun >> adjective >> numeral >> determiner". They say something like "Flies dead five these".
Now, if you tackle the problem from a mathematical point of view, there are 24 possible orders in which you might arrange these 4 elements (4 x 3 x 2 x 1 = 24). Yet --and this is the surprising bit-- among the more than 7000 languages spoken now or in the past by human beings, only 14 of these 24 orders are attested.
Furthermore, there's this guy called Guglielmo Cinque who managed to come up with a system by which, departing from one of these orders, you can derive the other valid 13, but not the 10 'wrong' ones. This method is consistent with the rest of syntactic analysis, requires that one starts always from the same, unique 'underlying' order and, what's more, nobody else has been able to come up with any simpler or clearer system that does the same.
This seems to be telling us that only a certain number of operations are possible in the brain with regard to languages. It suggests that language is indeed something that we can learn, but that it can only exist as defined by certain rules and parameters already present within the human brain.
Neat huh?
Imagine the phrase "The five dead flies". Since this is english, the word order is "determiner >> numeral >> adjective >> noun". No other sequence is possible. "Flies five dead the", for instance, makes no sense at all. You might have something like "Five of these dead flies", but then the meaning is different, and you have that little "of" there, which you didn't have before.
In a language such as spanish, however, the order is different. You have "determiner >> numeral >> noun >> adjective", that is to say, "Estas cinco moscas muertas". "Determiner >> numeral >> adjective >> noun" is also permissible, but is not the 'original' form. It doesn't always sound well. If you want to test this, ask a native speaker to choose between "Estas cinco moscas muertas" and "Estas cinco muertas moscas". You'll see.
Other languages, such as yoruba, have as their order the exact opposite of english: "noun >> adjective >> numeral >> determiner". They say something like "Flies dead five these".
Now, if you tackle the problem from a mathematical point of view, there are 24 possible orders in which you might arrange these 4 elements (4 x 3 x 2 x 1 = 24). Yet --and this is the surprising bit-- among the more than 7000 languages spoken now or in the past by human beings, only 14 of these 24 orders are attested.
Furthermore, there's this guy called Guglielmo Cinque who managed to come up with a system by which, departing from one of these orders, you can derive the other valid 13, but not the 10 'wrong' ones. This method is consistent with the rest of syntactic analysis, requires that one starts always from the same, unique 'underlying' order and, what's more, nobody else has been able to come up with any simpler or clearer system that does the same.
This seems to be telling us that only a certain number of operations are possible in the brain with regard to languages. It suggests that language is indeed something that we can learn, but that it can only exist as defined by certain rules and parameters already present within the human brain.
Neat huh?
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Been reading all morning...
...and i don't understand even half of it. I hope we'll get some good explanations in class today, or i'm fucked.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Lazy... I'm lazy for fee-ling so lazy-y-y-y...
Am supposed to read a pile of articles for tomorrow's classes, but can't get myself to do it. I think i'll just take a shower now, set my alarm clock for 4:00 am, make myself some tea, get in bed and watch a movie.
Surrounded
Diamond Valnøtter, Konica, Leitz, Tine, Sony, Fujitsu Siemens, Bic, Pentel, Weetabix, Cachamai, Nora, Coop, Ricola, Santa Cristina, Dan Sukker, Osram, Lerum, Gillette, Lancaster, Rocío, Nivea, The Body Shop, Vapo, Adidas, Colgate, Idun, Mr. Lee, Royal, Hasat, Seltin, Patak's, Poppeli, Clipper, Twinings, Creative, TDK, Binaca, Johnson & Johnson, Define, Paco, ReaLime, Bialcol, Imsdal, Quechua, Scholl, Penol, Pilot, Lipa Mill, Intex, TinyDrive, Weetos, Toro, Dovre, Aceca Inc., McIlhenny Co., Nitedals, Rollerblade, Milano Uomo, Tee Jays, Tommy Hilfiger, Vitaplex, Ultimo, Fabrizzi, ICA, El Corte Inglés, Christian Dior, Marco Polo, WBÄ, Mares, Jelly Belly, Pasofirme, Thinsulate, Chiruca, Linyi, IKEA, Canon, Philips, Garrity, Duracell, Exide, Citrucel, Spar, Berocca, Glade, First Price, Albus, Bayer, Boots, Luis Trombetta, Inti, Tylenol, Collett, Iodosan, Nico-Hepatocyn, Paramed, Digestan, Roemmers, Weiga, Tarragó, Kleenex, Maxell, Calvin Klein, Ocean, Val Venosta, Santa Maria AB, Coca Cola, Artsana, El Reloj, KAI, Brossa, Wrigley's, ACO HUD AB, Kangaro, Nitedals, Stanley, Tartan, Benchtop, Mitsubishi, Plus, SHF, Post-it, Festo, Masel, Staedtler, La Iride, Tomado, You, Punto de Origen, B & C, Sportyear, Marshall Field's, Sveico, Bantex, Ralph Lauren, Janus, Mack.
All in here with me, within a 2 meter radius. Plus, those brands that sell components to the brands that have sold me the products i've bought, plus those whose brandname i can't see because they didn't put it in (i.e., the company that built the walls around me), plus books, each with their editorial house (they must count as brands), plus other brands i must have missed because no way i'm gonna spend my evening going through all my things just to check out where they're stamped.
The only non-brand things i can see around me are: a hand-made teabox that Yanina's mom gave me, my mate cup, some lychen-covered rocks i put on my windowsill after a mountain hike, my body, a moth on the ceiling, and the darkness outside the aforementioned window. Oh, and some dust on the floor, which i haven't sweeped in a while.
Of these i must probably discard the teabox and the mate cup, because some branded tools were probably employed in their crafting. My body has had so much contact with brands it probably wouldn't be where it is now if it weren't for its relationship with them (i mean, birth in a hospital, a couple of surgical interventions, glasses, reading Penguin Books, planes, blah blah). Some of the dust is also dubious in this way, so only the rocks, the darkness and the lychen are left.
Must get myself some higher-order plants to accompany the lychen, so that i can be more in touch with the un-branded world. I'll go to the forest behind the bolig and dig out a pine sapling -- with my bare fingers, of course. Then i'll chew out the center of a log and plant it there.
Oops! Forgot: can't use my fingers nor my teeth. Dang!
All in here with me, within a 2 meter radius. Plus, those brands that sell components to the brands that have sold me the products i've bought, plus those whose brandname i can't see because they didn't put it in (i.e., the company that built the walls around me), plus books, each with their editorial house (they must count as brands), plus other brands i must have missed because no way i'm gonna spend my evening going through all my things just to check out where they're stamped.
The only non-brand things i can see around me are: a hand-made teabox that Yanina's mom gave me, my mate cup, some lychen-covered rocks i put on my windowsill after a mountain hike, my body, a moth on the ceiling, and the darkness outside the aforementioned window. Oh, and some dust on the floor, which i haven't sweeped in a while.
Of these i must probably discard the teabox and the mate cup, because some branded tools were probably employed in their crafting. My body has had so much contact with brands it probably wouldn't be where it is now if it weren't for its relationship with them (i mean, birth in a hospital, a couple of surgical interventions, glasses, reading Penguin Books, planes, blah blah). Some of the dust is also dubious in this way, so only the rocks, the darkness and the lychen are left.
Must get myself some higher-order plants to accompany the lychen, so that i can be more in touch with the un-branded world. I'll go to the forest behind the bolig and dig out a pine sapling -- with my bare fingers, of course. Then i'll chew out the center of a log and plant it there.
Oops! Forgot: can't use my fingers nor my teeth. Dang!
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Beginning of a novel?
In the end, space exploration payed off: all the research that went into recycling water and oxygen had to be used on Earth. When the surface was no longer livable, we retired to the interior and learned to recycle our breath and our sweat.
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