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Although the fashions of pigs Portnoy and sisters, do not let the opportunity pass to my reading list for 2010: the most significant, in that it is worth recording in its path. Like others, I must clarify that not all were published in 2010, in short, the culture in a third world country run by fascists manifested infamous, among other things, the absence of real books in those dens of bad taste that four cats libraries insist on calling, when in reality they are nothing five shelves filled with the shit of that Coelho & Co., and fools periodejos buy patio with relish.

But better get into the field and, of course, is to start domestic production, and leave quickly:
in narrative material, but were published, and awarded, three to four things, most importantly that could be obtained Fiction heretic was chaste readers (Giovanni Rodriguez) and The Unfinished (Gustavo Campos), two samples of what is occurring in the north as part of a unique cultural process that has already been mapped, including by competent critics as Helen Umaña, Sara Rolla and Hernán Antonio Bermúdez.
Poetry was singularly prolific, but more substantial contributions from visions which derives from the old recipe antipoetry, but through a process of appropriation and reinvention bookish materialized in texts such as Magdiel Midence: Self-Portrait teen clown and veal skin , Natarén Otoniel and one of the most solid and definite proposals in recent years: Lost causes , Jorge Martinez, who finally appeared on handmade edition presented at the end of the year in Costa Rica. And in his line classic, but this time with a decidedly more intimate touch, Marco Antonio Madrid brought us The secret voice water. Special mention should Before the explosion, where Samuel committed Trigueros calling us the "uneasiness of the insurrection."
In the most interesting essay from the pen of Jorge Amaya: History of Reading in 1876-1930 Honduras, who has committed to new writing history based on themes and views most original and less stuffy than they usually choose their peers of the profession, determined to write history that nobody reads, and cumbersome and lack of interest. Beyond
of H, in narrative can not fail to mention after a couple of novels on the essential drug in Mexico (and in the U.S. and Colombia and Honduras, of course), beginning with the magisterial work of Don Winslow: dog power, in an extraordinary edition despite the introduction of Fresán childlike, and his Northern counterpart: Among dogs, Alejandro Almazan. Aira again surprised by The Mysteries of the Rosary, and Iván Thays with A place called Dog Ear was a meaningful experience, but perhaps the best of the year is readings armies and Evelio Rosero the the peasant León Leiva Gallardo The house of the cemetery. A happy experience was the encounter with Auster through Brooklyn Follies.
In poetry I confess that I enjoyed at length with Anne Carson and husband Beauty and the reading of the guys inimitable: Jeta de santo , Mario Santiago, and unknown University of Roberto Bolaño. And I'm still testing immersed in this wonderful proposal Homi Bhabha, Nation and Narration , as well as the many intricacies of the pretentious, but valid, Postpoesía , Fernandez Mallo.

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popular sap revitalizing the Honduran art. Helen Umaña

On Friday December 10 we traveled to Trinidad, Santa Barbara, along with Helen, Rocio and Armando. After the "technical stop" in The Gallops, arrived on the stroke of 9:00 pm and were greeted with warm hospitality triniteca by Delmer Lee, Samuel Triggs, Mega and the beat of La Siembra. All were involved in activities before the day of burning. That night we saw some of the chimneys, but it was until the next morning when we fully appreciate, and also talked with residents, who have identified totally with the activity over the years. No one better than Helen Umaña to describe this wonderful experience on the lines that follow, and you can supplement your reading with the images captured by Armando Garcia, Gustavo Campos and Mario Gallardo clicking here .

popular sap revitalizing the Honduran art. Helen Umaña

The portal at the entrance, with theatrical symbols on the simulated and gray wall, warns us: we entered a region where, for a few hours, imagination and creativity reign . We are in a public space donated by the exiled official boycott the center of the city.
Turtle is huge and well delineated on its shell carries a map of Honduras: "It represents the country because its development is very slow, as the passage of the turtle," explains a child that goes beyond the twelve years.
Another sculpture plays a character known children's television series. The bright yellow sun shines the splendid morning triniteca. The long tail simulates deadly lightning, "This is PicaEneeChú : only forgive the debts of the rich but not those of the poor", says the toddler.
" Juan Pueblo " is read on a high cross. As balance, arm horizontal hang two trays: one stuffed full of gorillas, with their weight dominates, the other contains packages of food and basic grains has gone up. At the foot, shovel, hammer, saw and the grinding stone reminiscent of the precariousness of the weapons with which Juan Pueblo earns its daily battle against hunger. At the base of the faithful-cross, a pedestal. "You can go who wants to" announces a young man. A beautiful woman overcomes fear and challenge. "Stretch your arms", "tilt your head," say some voices. The long hair covers part of his face. Eva crucified, whispers a voice inside me. Sixty years later, the novelist's obsession with pink color appears embody. A vivid picture in the best tradition of the theater of evangelization. Of the blue, drama, had burst causing spontaneous analogy. The cameras, fortunately, caught the beauty of the moment. Playing
the deformed body and skeletal Smeagol, the inhuman character of "The Lord of the Rings, the enormous caricature portrait sculpture is the current ruler burlesque. Big ears and big teeth. Stereotyped smile. Before him, three skulls and crosses for dripping blood. Sitting on the world, their droppings stain the ground. And
lion, I asked the boy who guarded the giant mole. "It's the system," he said with certainty is overwhelming, and there, tiny but brave, a doll representing Morazán and the people, hence carries the flag of Honduras, "he concludes. How many jobs, I ask. "As a thirty or forty. Some were in the afternoon, or evening. " Do they belong to the theater La Siembra? "No, we did with our neighborhood." And so with all the chimneys? "Yes, all are made by those who wish to do so." A feeling of joy overcomes me: Here is emerging art from the deep needs of the people. What this announces to the future is unstoppable, I thought.
The monument to "the press sold" had been made with scrupulous realism. Following closely the design of old presses, like a wheel of death, their innards out, dressed Machiavellian, the front pages of newspapers expert in camouflage and lying. The terrible color of the blood-ese, which is never forgotten, splashed throughout the structure. The monstrous Minotaur
rises above the other sculptures. Maybe six or seven meters. Santabarbarense ground has revived the ancient Greek myth of man-eater. In its jaws and claws shreds hanging the national flag. Allegory of what has made the country one of the last of Latin America: the savage system of exploitation and oppression, the repressive violence, the coup, the agrarian conflict in the Aguán, the maquila ... Tal, polysemic symbol of wealth.
"Blessed Ventura." Dress smart blue suit, his feet, trampling way near your shoes, rest a white book which reads pasta: Status of Teachers. The authority, enemy of the labor victories of the teachers.
A slender flame. His foot crushes the eagle, decorated with the banner of the stars and stripes, lying on the ground. "They made a boy and his mother," explains our cicerone "These are the South American countries who are opposed to imperialism," he concludes. The name of the small fireplace hides a fascinating proposal for action: " The flame that flies."
The spider is the perfect finish. Huge. It covers the entire width of the street. Last night, illuminated, like a sinister monster escaped from a horror movie. Title: "The Black Widow capitalism." That morning, a boy added the final touches of paint. It was a few hours to burn and the pursuit of perfection indicated something basic, this whole discourse of the 'Fair Walk the Stacks Real Giants' great respect for the audience, the sense of dignity with which the people should be treated according to receiver of any message.
The Little Foxes, simply fabulous. Giant among giants. Like Romulus and Remus, their titties, lit with infinite greed, big snakes will suck every last drop of energy, business organizations, the bureaucrats, the coup leaders, the bipartisan ... Name? "Matria in serpents nest." Superb
is the gesture of the imperial eagle. In its talons, a broken body. The head is bleeding on the floor. As terrific forest, thuggish hands rise in demand for devices of death ... Evoking Pedro Magdiel, Ivan Roger, Wendy, Isis Obed, Walter and others, and others like them, and thinking at that moment what is happening in the Aguán, the sinister allegory causes chills. His name: " Ave feeding their gorillas."
" Heading Angel" has a different tone. The graceful woman, butterfly, arms raised to sustain the world, is almost ready to fly. Its relaxing and vertical design suggests a different reality, a land more humane and less evil. "Symbol of men and women who, at the expense of themselves, have fought for a more friendly? Is it comparable to the hope that was in Pandora's box? Did a new kind of looking for the future? The breadth of interpretation is an unmistakable sign of aesthetic achievement of its creators. And the huge
vagina seems to have escaped from a Rabelaisian page or a surrealist movie? Total working mindedness anatomical details. The authors ran the risk of facing the feelings of some prudish. In the end, "The great revelation " was tremendous. An ode to life that begins and renews itself. In the journey that the viewer could make mega within the womb, in the photographs on display, one purpose: to instill respect for the female body. Overall, teaching in human anatomy there is nothing shameful because it is as natural as the flower, tree or bird. Lead to reflection on abortion. Encourage the rejection of domestic violence. The final applause when the fire consumed the innards of the chimney, indicate what was the popular verdict: unanimous acceptance of the conceptual proposal.
If cost much, why burn them?, Why spend money and effort into something that the flames destroyed in seconds?, Say the pragmatists. Because life is not all about money, answer Delmer Lopez, the lead manager of the chimneys. More important than the glitter of gold fatuous is the age-old lesson of the fire, he confirmed, in a hypothetical dialogue, Gaston Bachelard. Burn-purification, as a sacrificial ceremony-everything, personal or collective level, denigrate and trample human dignity. Lesson that, once assimilated and learned, never erased a good conscience.
many lessons detached from the "Feria del Paseo Real the Stacks Giants!" Trinidad, Santa Barbara. Ratification of what was clearly a result of the coup: the emergence of a strong artistic and cultural awakening outside the canonical culture. A movement, a meeting point between artists extraction popular and others who have gone through the academy and art schools. From this interaction, both groups have come to benefit. I checked the majesty of the chimneys in the middle line of the street. Each one, part of a speech cerebrally conceived. Obedient to intelligent design and rigorous execution. This enabled a speech read as comprehensive, coherent and full of suggestions
interpretative point of particular importance is the massive implicit in its drafting (as well as your enjoyment): each stack came from the involvement of partners from different neighborhoods. Infants, housewives, young people ... Everyone contributed what she could (even shot spread at midnight for artists to replenish forces). Overall, according to computation done by my dear friend, the total human cost is equivalent to fourteen months of work. Another detail worth
taken into account: burning fireplaces, in Trinidad, invites artists from different parts of the country. Songwriters, poets, painters, musicians, playwrights, storytellers, photographers ... have made the trip several times. But in the last two editions (2009 and 2010), there was a specific goal: to insert the artistic discourse within the social and political framework emerged following the coup. This corroborates
as outlined in more than one occasion, the magnitude the coup established a watershed moment and crisis, which was screened at all levels. In the intellectual and artistic, not neutral as possible, opened up options for support or rejection of the coup action. For the latter sector, the circumstances demanded the merger with the great movement of popular resistance . The wrongful act against Manuel Zelaya Rosales and repressive violence unleashed demanded a volitional act of rebuilding and rerouting: the beginning of a stage, beating the Ivory Tower, bet all your batteries to the clarification, interpretation and support effort with which the people day by day, with high rates of pain and blood, write your own song worthy .

San Pedro Sula, December 14, 2010

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ABSTRACTION VII

This book is pure geometry. We see an almost flat background but has a soft colors that give a sense of infinite depth of deep space

The highlight is on the top left corner with those whose crown black concentric circles out from the rest of the table is in softer colors.

The concentric circles are repeated over the entire surface of the painting cleverly distributed.

There are other circles that seem to have a shadow projected.

triangles and quadrilaterals are strung in different ways, forming a regular and irregular grids.

are straight lines that appear to be targeted in specific directions that create a tension. There are groups which are semicircles tangent arches supported on a line.

lines are cut by two parallel lines.

There is a wave that is damped in time.

There are some figures that overlap each other and the overlapping area changes color as transparent and mix colors.

There are two converging lines that appear to be the radius of convergence but also arcs are not.

There are lines that go towards creating a dynamic corner

There triangles and angles with the point upward

Whereas Kandinsky makes the parallels between painting and music, I would say that the circles are long notes "round" the largest and most severe acute smaller, the aura is the vibration or sound, the grids are in line, the triangles are acute and penetrating notes short and arcs are semicircles whales that lengthen the note, two parallel lines that cut a line perpendicular or slope is a caesura indicating silent pause, the arches are bonds that unite notes sounded continuously, the angles are crescendo and descrescendo referred to the volume or intensity of sound. Damped wave corresponds to any sound of percussion, including piano, that by giving a shout gradually dampens the sound. The straight lines coils are on hold. The black curved triangle is to the right of the large black ring is the "tail" which adds a note "black" (duration 1 time) to symbolize the "eighth" (½ time period). Two parallel vertical lines located at the top right of the yellow triangle represent the "neutral key" used to the staff of a percussion instrument. To the right of this, a little below is a grid of 5 lines that start parallel with a gray and black squares is the former staff notation that the notes were squares.

A medium height and slightly off-center is a circle or ring in which convergence of three triangles of various colors with a very small angle, very close. This ring is full of percussion, like a drum. At right is a half white half black circle with two rings: one red and one yellow that surrounds it but half is hidden below the triangle in that area is green, these rings are a dish of percussion.

Therefore, this work represents a piece of music and instruments involved.

Antonio Sánchez-Gil http://arteycartelera.es

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Writing Life, according to the Old Indecent

We who write the poetry of life, many of us are very tired, sad and tired and almost defeated (though not all). However, even we know that we do not need God to be divine, we do not need lines of garden to be saved, we do not need the war to be free, we do not need any Creelys to admire, we do not need to crumbling Ginsbergs monsters become vociferous, but maybe all we need Lagrimillas Lovely girls aged, the spilled beer, fights in the front yard for nothing but the intoxication of our sad love. Indeed defend our poetry, we live Lumped generation, indeed defend our poetry and our right to recite, and our right to write. No costume. Without a magazine raided by police as "obscene." Employment without losing their nerve. Do please understand that the do not claim that anything I write is immortal, not claim a special price, but everything is really beautiful: when I wear the shoes only see 2 feet down there. But let's say it: the few men I have taken that as an option, we or talent, we are tired of continuous game of death, we are trying to transcendence through arms and noses and brains and bones and broken lives that little touch of sanity and sun cojonudo: LIVE? Yes, living, that which touches us all, to you and we undead living alive.

C. Bukowski. Fragments of a wine-stained notebook . pp. 89-90

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DFW and the magic of reading literature as Murakami

A work of fiction is a conversation that can deal with the essential loneliness that occurs in the world. Among human beings there is a situation of lack of communication of emotions. Communication between the creator and the reader is extraordinarily mysterious. Good literature provokes an experience that can help to overcome the isolation of a subjective order. I do not know if it will work in English, because it is a term very idiomatic and idiosyncratic, in fact, the expression of a sound. I found after reading Auden and Yeats, I do not remember exactly. It's like an epiphany, in the sense that Joyce gave to the term, a revelation, a sense of harmony and perfection that he feels in the presence of a job well done, the work of art that does the trick. It's like a click, the sound it makes a box that is perfectly crafted to close. The ineffable effect caused by the contact with the work of art. Communication between different minds thinking that derives from the contemplation of poetic beauty. In the act of reading is given a component that is the attempt to establish communication with another consciousness, an interpenetration. What I call the click is the ability to recognize thoughts and feelings that the reader feels as his own, but can not verbalize. I, as a reader, when reading I feel that the author has found the words I need to give expression to my feelings. No way, I have given them, but they are no less than mine, thanks to the poet, the writer, have been transfigured, and expressed in a phrase of great beauty. At that time, the world becomes full, strength, straightness.

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When I write a story, I do not plan to go to hit a Japanese or a Chinese reader. Simply, I have fun doing it. The stories that I pose are natural, I can not explain. They are very intimate, very personal, and when I write I dig in my mind, my soul. That, precisely, why not, you can also global. It may well happen. What we must try to be authentic.

speak to me. I know myself. I'm just saying that every book I go down, more and more. To know better, I turn increasingly to the bottom of the well. Metaphorically. I also like to break walls. Transfer them. Go to the other side and sniffing. Then I go back. That is to write a novel. Go for the dark, what you do not know. If you try, you can do well. If you are able to pass these boundaries, you become someone of interest globally and find common souls in Asia, in Africa. If you have the courage to cross the wall, the border to which you feel alone and unarmed. Go through the wall and can become another. You can be free, too. In my novels I try that happen.

I use language as a tool. A tool I can use with great effectiveness. But no more. That is why critics and writers attack me. I seek originality of its own, away from what they proclaim. Neither their circles I frequent. I do not belong to any group, and Japan are supposed to be part of one. So I left my country a few years.

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Aira: Literature, youth and craft

For many years I thought that I had devoted to literature by elimination, because I could not do what he really wanted: making music, painting, cinema, he had no talent, no chance of none of that. So it was easier to write, something for which no longer required a pencil and pad, and able to write. But eventually, I realized the very long run, that literature is the most difficult of all art, so if I chose to discard, made a bad bargain.

prefer the company of young people. Is natural to go over to drink fresh blood. I like the enthusiasm, the drive of young people, which fades with time. Most of my friends from my generation, my childhood friends have already lost the flame. I try to keep in contact with youth. Most of my friends is now less than 30 years.

A reflux on what were my childhood years, the sixties, seventies, where it was almost mandatory for a juvenile be breaking something, something new, something different. Today there may be more conventional, resigned to do what they want the publishers, who have the obligation to continue publishing books to keep your machine and people are given this material. I think there are enough good books in every library to continue writing novels like the ones already there, however good they are. However well made they are, are more books. Our mission is to give something a bit more mystical, is doing something new, something different, and that there are few people to deal.

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life and literature, as Sergio Pitol

"When I was your age, expected to follow a path similar to my nephew had chosen. Like him, the faculty had studied the specialty of English, with a secret ambition to continue studying literature or perhaps try your hand at journalism, but I lacked the courage to do some of both. Life got in the way-two years in the military, work, marriage, family responsibilities, need to earn more money, all that shit that leaves us stuck where we do not have the guts to fight for what we want, but I never lost interest in books. Reading was my escape, my relief and my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for pleasure, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you ring in your head the words of an author. "

Paul Auster, Brooklyn Follies . p. 21.

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Auster: The language, vocation, the writer

The writer knows his life is in the language, your happiness or misery depends on it. I've been a lover of words, I was his servant, a scanner over his body, a mole digging in his basement, I am also his inquisitor, his lawyer, his executioner. I am the angel of the guard and the malicious serpent, the apple tree and the devil. Babel: everything becomes confusing because the term is almost no literature that different people mean the same thing, and now I tired to continue pondering the dilemma useless sometimes give much importance to whether a young man becomes a writer because the Goddess Literature it has provided or, conversely, does it for normal reasons: their environment, children, the school he goes, his friends and reading and, above all, instinct, which is essentially one who has approached their vocation. Moreover, outside the work nothing else matters.

Sergio Pitol, The Wizard of Vienna, pp. 86-87

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always had painted the sea from outside but this time I am painting from within.

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Todorov: No art would be lost

In principle, the art brings us closer to truth and freedom, but I know many artists who are not free and that makes their lives much harder. "With this forceful expressed Tzvetan Todorov (Sofia, 1939), director of the Center for Research on Language Arts and the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) of France, in this interview.
Considered one of the key thinkers of the Europe of the last two decades, Todorov, Bulgarian by birth and French by adoption, has been awarded the Medal of the Order of Arts and Letters in France and the Prince of Asturias Prize for Social Sciences in 2008. The English jury said, when the granting of that distinction, that this philosopher and historian who taught educational courses at the universities of Paris, Yale, New York, Columbia, Harvard and California, "represents the spirit of unity Europe, East and West, and commitment to the ideals of freedom, equality, inclusion and justice. "

what role art plays in the achievement of those ideals for which he was awarded the Prince of Asturias? He said the musician
German Richard Wagner to the supreme end of man is the end of art, that art is the highest human activity, which ends its existence on Earth, and that true art is the pinnacle of freedom ... Well, they are words that for some may be considered excessive from a great artist who is meant to equate art, freedom and human dignity. Art is now a phenomenon of multiple forms and diverse manifestations. Therein lies its richness. I think art has a negative connotation when viewed from one angle, from a single formula. Art is an important part of society and the individual. Artistic expression us closer to freedom, truth if you will, but it is not synonymous with or otherwise. I know many artists who are not free and not a few who are not in truth his main objective.
From the romantic era art takes leading role, as it is considered that provides a superior knowledge and represents the highest activity to which human beings can engage. He has spent time with all its vagaries and history teaches us that the romantic dream, but infinitely less deadly than political utopia also houses a large portion of disappointment. But no art without artists would be lost. For decades
totalitarianism has been studied in Europe. Do you think it may be extended in the near future and generally anti-democratic attitudes?
One of the characteristics of fascism, and Nazism, is to have a very strong nationalist component. We see that in this sense, in Europe today are developing in a certain behavior and disturbing footage of position could be considered as remnants of the past. I mean, xenophobia and distrust abroad and to the immigrant. This suggests the possibility, however remote I think, that there is a revival of these unacceptable positions totalitarian. Some seem to defend Europe as were a kind of strength that would preserve the "pure" versus the outside.
Communism also may constitute a risk in this regard because this ideology adopts a doctrine of salvation that promises great improvements in terms of equal human beings, although we know and the reality has amply demonstrated its total failure. The fall of the Berlin Wall marked the end, the collapse of communism. Born as a solid then hope for a more harmonious world order. But today, just 20 years later, if we look at the reality we find that this hope was illusory and that certain features of the ultra-liberal democratic project marked disturbing shadows by messianism and totalitarianism. We must be attentive to these signs.
What prompted you to study the forms of totalitarianism and repression?
come from a country that experienced a strong repression. I was born in Bulgaria on the eve of World War II. My country went to the zone of Soviet influence in September 1944. Until I went to France at age 24 I experienced the ordeal of a harsh dictatorship. In Sofia, where I was born and studied Arts, I began to value more and more negative the scheme in which he lived. Only within the family and closest friends could express my opinions. After the terrible repression in Hungary in 1956, Bulgaria dissent and public expression of what you thought was a mere utopia as they ruthlessly repressed by the slightest expression of protest. As I have written in my book The totalitarian experience, at first there was a risk of being expelled from university, work and even the city in which one lived. If relapsed, it was difficult to finish in one of the remote prison camps, they were real colonies of imprisonment and repression that are often not out alive. What moves
dictators and those who abet?
Its purpose is, as Obviously, winning and retaining power and the means by which they use are just beautiful and false ideological constructs. Bottom line, whatever the supposed ideology behind a dictatorship, is to seize power. Naturally, this makes individuals living in a totalitarian country people "no opinion." At the time, society in the countries of Eastern Europe join the communist ideology played a simple ritual. All or many, the claim, but nobody, or almost no one believes it.
Moreover, it is essential to submit unconditionally to the head. Those who assist the dictator, and this applies to any kind of dictatorship, in general are not fanatics, but cynical careerists who do what they do to access a privileged position and secure a better life. The motor of social life in a dictatorship is not the faith and belief in an ideal, but the will to power.
You have remarked that sometimes the intellectuals are tempted by these ideologies ...
Yes, that is, and is a curious phenomenon. When I came to France from a country without freedom, I noticed that there were few who defended the regime that horrified me, I had been deprived of the freedom to express my thoughts and, of course, to act. It was an enigma to me. After I realized that those people, those intellectuals who argued that they did so from a purely ideological and far from reality. The ideas were very attractive, but the reality of undeniable cruelty. I think that the intellectual, as the engine of thought of a community has an obligation not to move only in the world of ideas, but down to reality, check it and then judge, take a stand and act.
What do you think about the recent controversy in France and Italy expulsion of Roma from Romania?
We crashed the lifestyle of these groups, different from the average. Do not live in central cities do not wear a suit and tie, do not bring children to school. That is harvested and used as a throwing against them. As if they were all violent and put the community at risk. But do not forget that they are European citizens and members of the Union. They were expelled to Romania, but they can come back tomorrow. They have their rights as European citizens. That said, everything that has been created around this issue I think is a way to distract the community of more serious problems. There is talk of this and so do not talk about some of the major problems these countries live. From that standpoint I think that what's past is a mockery of citizenship, a masquerade. Does
medications against the risk of sectarianism, both individually and collectively?
I think we should look at reality from an objective. Freedom of information is essential. The function of journalism is of decisive importance. We talked about a free press, no straightjacket. No bound or biased. Education in the broadest sense is a key tool to prevent these hazards. Of course, school education, but also to be exercised by reporters, politicians, etc.. An education based on respect and consideration of the diversity of the world and who in the world live. May we open ourselves to others, to other worlds, and fail to consider us as the only and best.
And the art?
As we mentioned at the beginning of this talk, art and the artistic are essential elements of being human. I wrote four years ago, adventurers of all, a book is very focused on creating and artistically. He recalled in an editorial that text from a magazine that began: "Beauty will save the world. Dostoyesvski phrase has never been present. Because when so many things go wrong around us is the time to talk about the beauty of the planet and human beings who inhabit it. "
Beauty, wrote then, involves not spend your life watching the sunsets or moonlight, nor strive to enrich it with decorative items acquired in a trade. Rather, it refers to the attempt to order it in a way that considers individual consciousness harmonious, so that their various ingredients, social, professional, intimate, material-constitute an intelligible whole. The art in all its expressions and in the sense that it involves creation, clearly contributes to the harmony Logar.

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Pichulita Vargas Llosa or neutered

A brief glance at history reveals that a Nobel prize often marked by nonsense, by the grossest stupidity and manipulation. In a pointed article Oscar Collazos showed that the list of great writers who died without having received it, is of dignity that accompanies the winners.

" I will not talk about Marcel Proust and Nabokov, Joyce and Ezra Pound. I promise to say nothing of Graham Greene or Robert Musil. None of Virginia Wolf and Herman Broch, Marguerite Yourcenar and Robert Graves, who died in Deia, Mallorca, bearing the stigma of being the greatest living poet "important" in English. Each separately, and we in amorphous mass of fans, we know that is easier to endure injustice overcome the ambiguity of success, especially when it is unanimously by the dubious legitimacy of a great prize.
would be preferable to speak of Joao Guimaraes Rosa, Juan Rulfo, Alejo Carpentier, José Lezama Lima and Juan Carlos Onetti, because it is virtually impossible to think that before 1959 the Swedes were aware of the immense work of Alfonso Reyes, as it is likely that , incidentally, had read translations of César Vallejo and Vicente Huidobro . "

So Collazos evaluated at the beginning of his article" The importance of not to wait "the bittersweet theme of Nobel, and we could add more details . For example, it has to do with the fact that the Swedish Academy resists to recognize the young genius, daring and transgressive, however, prefers to capo whose work is universally recognized, the undisputed guru of boom, but at the bottom and does nothing but take off the vest and repeat fleas in high-sounding ditty her recipe, which recognizes the claque and eagerly awaited the latest reincarnation of "female reader." Swedes also distinguishes his inveterate tendency to reward political correctness, descent and most visceral right opportunism, in other words, he emphasizes his predilection for those who know how to live without breaking a plate, those who join prestigious clubs enjoy the advantages of belonging to the International Pen.

Yesterday the Swedish Academy acted consistently with its parameters, their likes and phobias, to reward a Vargas Llosa in full intellectual decline, a writer whose last three novels are far from the brilliance achieved with The green house , City and dogs or Conversation in the Cathedral. The author to reward, in fact, no longer recognized, it is impossible to identify with these works whose common sign is the sharp denunciation of the vices of an atrocious through bold narrative, the structure of communicating vessels was perfect vehicle to question the reality of Latin America individualized characters such as Jaguar, the Poet, Lituma, Wildflower, Zavalita, Ambrose or Key Shit. And if we look at their essays, the reality is even more sad, because despite the insistence of Vargas Llosa to vindicate an alleged democratic affiliation, the fund is unable to hide his fascist vocation, it is impossible to hide when you read her unfortunate "reflections" praising the merciless bombing and the invasion of Iraq, or their stuttering sometimes cloying praise for Bush and Thatcher, who is revealed as a senile object of desire for this miraflorino with airs of a gentleman.

But the issue does not end here, because it is accompanied with a fickle trend, which had already been noticed in the personal history of boom , Jose Donoso, whose page 175 we read: "Mario Super Star", the public exposure and political action. I do not know if it is attracted to power itself. It seems more likely to be a sporting attitude, almost aesthetic dimensions ...". And the public exposure found its natural expression, but also his nemesis in 1990.

But before proceeding it is necessary to return to the year 1967, when Vargas Llosa published one of his most intimate friends: Puppies. Scholars agree saying that in this nouvelle realistic and symbolic elements coexist, immersed in a simple story, almost a collective bildungsroman whose argument runs "through adolescence and youth adjustment problems, fierce society punishes those who do not follow their rules or meet its requirements ...). The novel shows the lack of adaptation brought about by something insurmountable physical castration. This castration may symbolize the lack of machismo in the character (Pichula Cuéllar), a feature that characterizes this society portrayed. Cuellar, however, never rejects this machismo, but it tries to adapt to it, even knowing he can not. "

And its star, Pichula Cuellar has been enmasculado by a dog, Judas, in a scene of violence: "There, shrunken, white tiles, tiles and trickles of water, trembling, heard the barking of Judas, weeping de Cuellar, his cries, and heard screams, jumps, crashes, slips and then only barking and a lot of time after the booming voice of Sister Lucia, the swearing of Leontius, the heck, my God, you were, SAPES, long long, the desperation of the Brothers, their terrible shock. " And the narrator adds: "By that time, not long after the accident, Pichulita began to tell." Cuéllar misfortune to continue to culminate in a denouement announced: his death: "Then Pichula Cuéllar the business again. What a man, Lalo said," ran waves on Easter? And Chingolo: waves not olona five feet, brother, and major neck and "..." had gone to the mountain, Tingo Maria, to grow coffee. "" ... and had returned to Miraflores, crazier than ever, and had already killed, going north, how?, in a crash, where? in the treacherous curves Pasamayo, poor, we said at the funeral, how he suffered what life was, but this final is a fact that was asking for. "

Castration and death, nothing more, nothing less. And society, or Pichulita Friends, continue normally with their lives until his castration, misfortune and death are in the most dull forgetfulness. Many of the fears of Vargas Llosa, many of his inner demons, confessed source of his inspiration, nest on this story, a story revealing the extent which could explain his attitude to the events of 1990, which marked his departure ("castration? ) of political and visceral rejection to any form of recognition of popular sovereignty, an attitude of defiance to the rejection he had his candidacy for president, expressed by 62% of the mass electorate who turned in favor of a quasi- unknown Alberto Fujimori, who was defeated by a wide margin of 24 points (Vargas Llosa won 38%) in the second round held on June 10, 1990. That

June 10, 1990, Vargas Llosa suffered the same fate as the troubled protagonist of Puppies that day the people of Peru, the controlling authority in more than one occasion has been called a blob and ignorant, preferred an obscure Japanese immigrant rather than national literary glory, and that same day Vargas Llosa Pichulita metamorphosed into a gelding and spiteful, unable to comprehend such an affront.

Resentment built up over the years and became a burden heavy Vargas Llosa was determined to exorcise through Pyrrhic victories, as the English citizen in 1993; of celebrations droll, as in 2002, when he hastened to celebrate what it considered the departure of Chavez from power after the coup attempt and Carmona Venezuelan right, or elevated to excited primate, and in August 2009, when he declared in favor of the coup in Honduras, told the media at the service of the oligarchy igonorante catracha crude and have repeated to disgust this 7 October on the occasion of the Nobel.

But there is unmistakably a tinge of sadness in each of their shares, which become pale carbon copy of the deeds Pichula that Cuellar was trying to hide their miserable condition eunuch, waves and surf that runs on your car to reckless speeds, while its creator struggles to accumulate awards and honors. But deep down both are aware of their basic flaws: one Judas ate his genitals, while the other, the Peruvian people will face rubbed in their ancestral contempt forever truncating his closest public exposure. From now on, Vargas Llosa Pichula wander through the world with a bag full of dollars, a full belly, a guilty conscience and the Nobel under his arm, with the secret hope that one day finally stop listening to the threatening bark Judas, who chase him from that sad night of June 10, 1990.

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Nobel for Juan Domingo Torres CRC Press

The death of Juan Domingo Torres, besides the pain of her departure, multiplied reflections from friends and colleagues about his life and work. Helen Umaña, Oscar Amaya, Juan Almendares and Roberto Quesada, among others, have published notes in the list of FIAN which recreate stories and special moments shared with JDT, while in the community of bloggers highlighting the post of Poet's Degree Zero ( Karen Valladares and Jorge Martinez) and the note "Juan Domingo Torres or transfer infinite Fabricio Estrada that the poet has placed in your toddler's Blog.

In this virtual space we express our regret at this irreparable loss for the community of art and culture, because the death of Juan Domingo, undoubtedly diminishes all of us. I can not remember the penultimate time that we met in early September 2008, when invited to lecture on the work of Pablo Zelaya Sierra, seizing the opportunity in that part of his work was exhibited in San Pedro Sula, Central Bank Gallery. That Tuesday September 9, 2008, fifteen people who attended the ten o'clock to gallery witnessed his erudition and his innate talent as a teacher, Juan Domingo led us through a tour of the art history in Honduras, the work on the pretext of Zelaya Sierra. I will always remember standing in front of "Brothers against brothers," as we called attention to some details, he suddenly fell silent and minutes later, perhaps thinking aloud, said: "I hope and will never again go through this barbarism. "

But of all the writings of Juan Domingo, none has been more accurate, more akin to the ethical nature of Juancho, than Sergio Bahr, who dare to play here without your permission. Would not bother, but perhaps more assholes bother you as Sergio says, "will take to convert you wake in a showcase themselves. "And our apologies to Fabricio Estrada for stealing the picture of your blog.

Púchica Juan Domingo

As children we had a tremendous reputation for being my brother and me. No, my sister Karen, who from little girl could not leave any male catracho quietly, why, through a male sort of osmosis, the majority decided, without saying, do not argue with her.

But Liber and I, whom Roberto Sosa provided the genius at the tip of the tongue we had nicknamed "paraniños" or "alias children" as the night, as we managed to be the terror of friends My father, especially if they suffered from the helplessness of drunkenness, and we were enjoying the impunity thus be children. Pull

package fireworks in the middle of a group of Pueta asleep.

Wait behind the door, crouched for hours, to jump back and pull the beard of the painters.

get on the roof and stay lying on the tiles to fall asleep or until spend some unsuspecting writer which could scatter it pumps, whichever came first.

Púchica, Juan Domingo were the one, I think, knew exactly how to deal with terror. During that time, when you stay stay at the house of Miraflores with us, fighting all the single chair opposite the TV and invariably won the dog, Feo (who pulled his length on the cushions and laughed teaching pristine teeth to all who try to take away) games were our co-presenter of laughter, magician, Houdini, man.

As Ugly appropriated from the couch to the rest of us played sitting on the floor watching TV, playing press the button "mute" every time that Nasrallah said something stupid. He pressed a lot, that button. and my father, with fine eye for the nobility, declared that he would go on the road likely to "paint slut" and left Juan Domingo Torres, now titled as babysitter, in charge of us.

You nodded with a nervous smile and then, when adults were gone and we children were left alone with a huge smile of complicity.

Púchica Juan Domingo, I remember when 20-odd years later we find ourselves in a prom rhythm of the pedagogical thinking myself I already big and you always know ourselves as children, and talking helped me to release the records stored in memory.

As the story where my brother and I holed your water bed, than you realize to throw you into a night of much sleep and find it turned into a private lake.

As the story in which a seedling of medicinal properties, lonely decorating the coffee table, ran out of leaves, courtesy of Juana la Loca.

As the story of Houdini trick, magician's so much we talked and eventually controlled the destructive enthusiasm of paraniños .

"Let's play", I said, smiling and smiling Juan Domingo Houdini invented the game. "It works as follows," you said seriously and emerging as the great teacher who always were, while you watched us expectantly, "I'm going to tie each in a chair, and the game is that they have released their own, as Houdini would. "

So we spent happy hours, but with frowning, concentrating on freedom from bondage, while you Juan Domingo exploited to take a nap, eat, watch TV next to the Ugly, carcajearte from time to time from your room.

When finally we managed to let go, exhausted, watching with a critical eye the condition of the chairs, ties. "They want to play again?".

made us laugh so much, and years later when you and I were in Fine Arts, or walking in the center (the two shared the hobby of walking always in a hurry), or the Pedagogical who insisted on still call "the superman "by that of the old and better times, or hanging around an event at the Museum of Man, or stumbling at a party in which neither was quite sure how he came, always, always made me laugh immediately.

Púchica Juan Domingo, no matter how was my day, no matter ghosts, skeletons in the closet, nightmares, severe or small or real or imaginary or hot fucking bitch was doing or that storm was falling or what the hell was happening to our little country, I always shared a hug, a laugh, a fine joke, and you let me in a good mood for the rest of the week. Always appreciated that you asked for my brother, just remembered.

was a little, almost indistinguishable from a tinge of sadness in your eyes.

So today when, later, begin to see these messages that say we will no longer trip anywhere, I fell on the chair, not wanting to do nothing but remind you. I say you are watching in Fine Arts, and bury you tomorrow. I suspect that many and many will take to make your viewing at a display of themselves. Too bad they are so idiots. For my part I think is going to stay small school of painters, musicians and Pueta with so many people go to say goodbye. To outgrow your memory.

is also smaller, but our town and Tegucigalpa, our Honduras. A little less fun, a little bit flatter. As you say, more pads, slightly pendejas. And then laughter.

You will be wrinkling a little heart to my father, Juan Domingo.

I'm not sure I want to go to your funeral. A smile you always gave you those things and after all, Houdini was not just your favorite wizard? Sure you already planned as escape, as mocking as laugh, and emerge triumphant.

But púchica, Juan Domingo, will I miss your laughter and your magic.

Bahr Caballero Sergio Fernando
September 25, 2010

Vibrators Desensituse

lives of North A brutal attack against art and culture in San Pedro Sula (15-Sep)

Given the national and international community, the Regional Cultural Council North "A" civil partnership oriented to the promotion, dissemination and development of art and culture, with local councils undersigned, denounce and condemn the vicious aggression against members of the artistic and intellectual community in the context of acts implemented by repressive police and military on the express orders of the regime of Porfirio Lobo Sosa, in hours of the morning of September 15 in the central park of San Pedro Sula, where he was scheduled to conduct a concert sponsored by Artists in Resistance organization the National Front and the Popular Resistance.

The concert "What independence?" Guancasco Café where the group would share the stage with fellow Ethnic group and singer Mario Mezapa, was scheduled to take place at the end of the patriotic march organized by the People's National Front, but at boot time, and when thousands of people were preparing to sing the national anthem, police and army were thrown Honduras armed with clubs and truncheons against the crowd, while throwing tear gas and sprayed an armored-pressure water jets, indiscriminately, without regard to the presence of young children, women and elderly. At the same time, proceeded to destroy the stage and damaged the expensive equipment audiovisual that had been rented to the German company Euro Sound. The savage attack was spread in a radius of not less than five blocks from downtown San Pedro Sula, and the police even raided illegally in the building where Radio One, inside which fired tear gas, broke doors and windows and threatened staff who live broadcast these events. On the premises had taken refuge sociologist Ernesto Bardales, who was savagely beaten and dragged out of the radio by members of the police. It is worthwhile to note that Radio One is led by a group headed by Arnulfo Aguilar journalist and with the collaboration of writers Helen Umaña Julio Escoto, Armando Garcia and Cesar Lazo, among other known members of the cultural community in the north.

In the statement released by Guancasco Café makes it clear the real dimension of the brutal attack on culture:

"Please note that the September 15, 2010 were brutally repressed by police and army, while offering our concert" What independence? ", along with thousands of people, among whom were children, elders, many things you enjoyed our presentation peacefully. A little less than 10 minutes into the role, repressive bodies directly attacked the space where we stood, firing tear gas onto the stage and entire perimeter where the activity occurs, then sprayed with water and gas all the audio equipment and instruments, launching of the stage and stealing many parts of the .
A member of our band was brutally beaten on the head and hands, the partner is also a Honduran gang member Montuca Sound System and has joined our tour that began with this concert. Guancasco Café fellow left perimeter severely intoxicated and had to be treated medically. Guancasco Café is a musical group part of the People's National Front and this time we carried out together with many local organizations this concert was a gift to the Valley of Sula. "

But the extent of police brutality and military deployed in San Pedro Sula reached unprecedented extremes causing the death of Efraín López, a humble citizen who made a living selling lottery tickets in the vicinity of Central Park. Lopez, who suffered from asthma, suffered tear gas and, according to hospital sources, could not be treated properly as it is known that the police chemicals used in these acts of repression.

Finally, Regional Council of Culture North A expresses solidarity with all the comrades who were victims of repression and brutal climb to the Fascist, demands a thorough and exemplary punishment to those responsible for ordering and executing this fierce assault against our cultural community.

demand in the strongest terms, supranational agencies, particularly the Organization of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), whose Universal Declaration on Cultural Diversity states that " Cultural rights are an integral part of human rights are universal, indivisible and interdependent ... that the development of creative diversity requires the full implementation of cultural rights and that everyone should be able to express, create and disseminate their work ...", and the Organization of Iberoamerican States for Education, Science and Culture (OEI) and, above all, the Joint Creativity and Cultural Identity for Local Development, which are affiliates who make this claim echoed in international forums and decisively accompanying the actions to achieve a conviction against the fascist regime of Porfirio Lobo Sosa of this bestial attack against art and national culture.

San Pedro Sula, at 16 days of September 2010

Regional Council of Culture of the North "A"
Local Council of Culture of San Manuel, Cortés
Local Culture Council Guild, Cortes
Local Council Culture of La Lima, Cortes
Local Culture Council Masca, Cortés
Local Cultural Council of El Progreso, Yoro Local Council
Pinalejo Culture, Santa Barbara
Local Culture Council Macuelizo, Santa Barbara

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Hotel Postmodern

"Postmodern Hotel" is a band of literature that supports the collective writing and testing and pollution. Have published two novels ("Hotel Postmodern" (ed. Inéditor, 2008) and "De La Habana a boat" (ed. Language of Cloth, 2010) and an interactive digital storytelling ( http://www.suicidame.es/ ).

The post of this blog belong to the gestation of the group's first novel, which was written entirely in it, signing all authors with the same nickname in order to lose the author and do not ever know who wrote, erased , varied, each text going over .... The common thread was the space: a hotel, and homogenized style recipe from a literary and a common imagery (books, movies, advertising ...) previously agreed.

not forget to visit the blog to see how it goes.

Essentialist Differences

Henri Marie Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa Tapié of Celeyran, Count of Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfa , known simply as Toulouse Lautrec ( Hôtel du Bosc , Albi November 10 1864 , 9 September 1901 ) was a painter and poster French noted for his portrayal of the Parisian nightlife of the late twentieth century will be part of the generation of postimpressionism .

Castle was born in Albi in the heart of a family of nobility. In his family, as was customary in many sagas of the great aristocratic marriages were performed between relatives to avoid territorial divisions and the dispersion of wealth. This was the case of the parents of Henri, Count Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec-Monfay Adele Tapie de Celeyran were first cousins. The inbreeding had to determine the health of the artist. Henri was the firstborn and when he was four, his brother Richard was born Constantine, who died a year later. For disagreements, his parents separated in 1868 and Toulouse-Lautrec came under the care of his mother.

His childhood was happy until, as a result of inbreeding their parents, Toulouse-Lautrec suffered from a disease affecting bone development and began to move him in 1874. His constitution was weak bone and between May 1878 and August 1879 suffered two fractures in femurs of both legs, which prevented him grow, reaching a height of 1.52 m .

The work of Toulouse-Lautrec is known for his photographic style, which under the spontaneity and the ability to capture movement in her scenes and characters, with his very distinctive style. This is compounded by the originality of his framing influence of Japanese art, which manifests itself in the diagonal compositional lines and the sudden cut figures by the edges. He had a photographic memory and painted very quickly. However, his first influence was the impressionist painting, and above all, the figure of Degas, who went away from urban issues interpreting landscapes Monet or Renoir. It was the vanguard of modernism and Art Nouveau.

addition to oil painting Henri used other techniques and other media in his work, emphasizing the production of posters. Used especially pastel on brown paper wrapping.

His technique with the oil was mixing the colors with turpentine to get a similar effect in watercolor and resolved on the canvas with long strokes as parallel or intersecting lines or forming a network, thick or thin as the case.

The posters used flat colors and the design is characterized by its tendency to caricature where at least portrayed the character traits and personality of the character.