Sunday, November 26, 2006

chez moi? ou est chez moi?

fenotipos vemos, genotipos no sabemos... niemand kennt niemand...

se me olvidó tomar fotos en la fiesta de la conz... too much tequila... but this space was supposed to hold thos photos so I'll kind of describe them:

1) a long long curvy road towards that far place where Sn Jeronimo is no more... check the lights at night!

2) The basement, where conz puts her corpses. Brian got caught in it and you can see him with half his body directly into the floor...

3) Luisa... Brian brought her and I really tried hard not to bite her... even tough she DID bit me. Y' owe me one, brian!

4) I guess conz in pink sweater and me smiling with two glasses of tequila. each. This should always be bad photos, but always worth uploading.

5) Susana sleeping in the bedroom with a scotch skirt on her back. I love this dog but she despises me.

6) The VERY beautiful friend of conz... forgot her name, but she's modelling besides her photos. That lottery sequence is great. Specially the old lady in "The Poor"

7) Brian with a scarf... drunk and coughin'

8) And conz and me pouring the ponche... nice colors!

and the deep part of nothing... take it as homework for the next post, since I'll be leaving to morelia tomorrow:

If you reach out for more,
you'll find nothing but sorrow.
'Cause knowledge is hollow.
And pride is hard to swallow.

thanks jimenoix!

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

De Mezcales y Votrexes magnéticos...

Amazing. Released today, magnetic vortex cores get hot with short burst of alternating fields. In nature. And some pervert induces its polarization out of plane. And somehow, it can be used to magnetically store data. Ask no more. I'm just amazed by the size of my ignorance and the limitations of my comprehension.

Por otra parte, la logia de los mezcólatras celebra su decimoprima sesión de saboreo de tres mezcales sorpresa en la Taberna Red Fly (Orizaba 145, en la Roma). Yo no podré ir, pues me encontraré constatando la ignorancia (la ajena y la propia) en frío en un congreso en Morelia. Espero encontrar mis propios mezcales y producir algunos cambios de polaridad fuera del plano también. Sin intenciones de guardar datos. Pero vayan los que puedan. $70 pesitos. Confirmen asistencia a Y salúdenme al Tío Corne.

Y para todos aquellos que sentimos más frío en la ciudad cuando nos sentamos solos a ver pelis en la cineteca:

Para todo mal...
y para todo bien...

... después de varios mezcales la enológica epifanía se manifestó clara: el vero acto de extrañar es un acto que veramente no existe. y recuerden... el gusano es a discreción...

Saturday, November 18, 2006

Passé réfléchi...

Um... otro sábado más... o menos. Mondes Possibles à mélangé mon esprit. Beaucoup.

Morelia is coming nigh again, but not for ecology. I'd like to become a vampire there, just not this time already. Not ready yet. Should be working on my presentation... who knows what the end of november shall bring?

¡Te extraño un chingo y mira lo que me encontré!

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Blessed are the forgetful…

...for they get the better even of their blunders.

I am starting to think I did went to the empire’s capital to get my mind wiped out. They were there as well. Lacuna Inc was on Grand St., Rockville Centre. I’ve seen the movie twice, but never before noticed it, perhaps because Rockville didn’t meant a shit to me back then. Hell, I even bought the copy in Rockville! I must confess there was something about it (the real one) that reminded me of that movie (often). It just lacked the snow. Not that I actually missed it.

It was just too coincidental. It was right there where I erased my eternal feminine. Lucky me, since it had become a ruthless monstruosity. Yeah, just take a couple of long, unsuccesful and significant relationships and overcook them. Let them marinate overnight in their own outcome and address them with the sour drops of unconsummated relationships. Put some of the nice girls you didn’t even talked to and voila! Please serve cold. I always thought this reassembly would have the fine need of puking. But it didn’t.

As in Kauffman’s script, it took me to meet an uncommon girl to find my mind getting shattered again, and then rebuilt. Always a girl. And then I noticed. That movie is a hoax. Because we always perform self-lobotomies after a breakup! At least when the real breakup finally comes. A friend once told me to go back to the places holding dear memories and to breath the memories away. To regain the energy left there. It was Tai-chi. Or Reiki. Can’t recall. I don’t know if it works, I never actually did it. I used to call it “to wipe the astral cochambre from the mind”. Going to those places again and again ‘till the memory was gone. Or the feeling, to be more accurate. It didn’t worked… completely. I would’ve needed another eight years some six times to get it done. It’s just my life reeked of her. Of them, actually. Each and every physical and metaphysical corner of my mind had their scents. Individually or mixed. It was helplessly, maddening, hopelessly, despairingly desperate. It was that or get totally rid out of my life… my own life! Then it came Rockville. I was taken out of context to somewhere without family, lovers, friends, colleagues… without past. To a place where, in average, you’re not liked. At last you find yourself face to face with that very person you love the most and dislike the most. Or at least fear a bit. You. And in my case, it made me cry.

However, there was a main difference: at the end, I didn’t ended up missing to death all I have lost (or everything I never did), but actually remembered. After that incomplete and unsuccessful lobotomy, I remembered what I was (not who). What I had lost somewhere between the warm sheets of shared beds, between the cushions of those films in the cinema, along those wet and windy paths in the university, amongst the fallen leaves on autumm streets and most of all, between the two pairs of lips of all unaccomplished kisses. And fuck it worked! I don’t think I’m any better than before, I haven’t been enlighted. My epiphany is still waiting to be found. I’m just happier. Happy to be back in some track. My own. It’s more than enough to keep up with the living. And to consummate all those pending lips closures.

Thanks to all who where there and those who weren’t. It’s always helpful to be left alone. Specially to those two from abroad whom gave me hope. And I correct: everyone should visit Rockville. Rockville Centre. To get your heart wiped out and stitched back.

How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot?
The world forgetting by the world forgot
Eternal sunshine of a spotless mind
Each pray'r accepted and each wish resign'd
Labour and rest, that equal periods keep;
"Obedient slumbers that can wake and weep"
Desires compos'd, affections ever ev'n,
Tears that delight, andsighs that waft to Heav'n.
Grace shines around her with serenest beams,
And whisp'ring angels prompt her golden dreams.
For her th' unfading rose of Eden blooms,
For her the Spouse prepares the bridal ring,
For her white virgins hymeneals sing,
To sounds of heav'nly harps she dies away,
And melts in visions of eternal day.

-- AP, "Eloise to Abelard"

Thursday, November 09, 2006

¡Se casa Quena!

Yo sólo se que no se nada...
... ¡y menos de regalos de bodas!

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

La UNAM no tiene citas

¡ora resulta!

En la entrada "UNAM: ¿triunfalismo justificado?" del blog Ideas al Vuelo del autodenominado anaĺista político Ricardo Medina Macias, hace lo que en el lab se considera "cuchareo refriteado" de las estadísticas publicadas por el Times. Y sí, señooores, el destacado analista le entra a la estadística para descubrir que en diez años la investigación de la máxima (casa de estudios, UNAM, claro esta) ha recibido "cero" citas en publicaciones extranjeras.

Algunos de estos investigadores sin citas en una década (todos ellos miembros del IBT, incluído Carlos Arias) le ponen una réplica en el mismo destacadísimo periódico con múltiples citas nacionales e internacionales y de auténtico color: El Economista. Los links para las publicaciones originales se encuentran aquí:

[o sea pica aquí pa desplegar el link o de plano visita la página del IBT]

por favor, enchílense harto pero canalícenlo bien: analicen ustedes mismos el reporte, platíquelo con sus allegados y si, como yo, llegan a la ineludible necesidad de mentarle la madre, pues visiten su blog. [por cierto: para ver la entrada y los comentarios, tienen que revisar los archivos de octubre del 2006, porque cuando uno tiene "ideas al vuelo", pues publica harto]

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Primero de Noviembre

ofrenda personal al clima y los vegetales

Día de Muertos

November the 1st... Día de Muertos!!!!

Definitively my favourite day... even with everything that's happening in Oaxaca and the remote image of a baseball stadium and a protest altar enriched by nameless benefactors overnight...

A brief description for the uninitiated: an altar is set so your deads come visit you and have some food to gather some energy in their long journey to the land of the dead. You usually cook some special food (your dead's favourite, usually mole, tamales, yolk bread, chocolate), candies and fruits (pumpkin candy, orange, sugarcane, tejocotes, guava candy) and drinks (mainly glasses with water, but also beer, tequila and mezcal)... salt for purification, copal to cleanse the room out of evil spirits, a petate where your dead can rest overnight, a path made of cempasúchil's flowers to guide the dead to the altar, a dog toy (itzcuintli) to guide your dead through the path of deads, and leave it overnight on november 1st and 2nd... You also put your dead's personal belongings and portraits (cigars, pipes, clocks, glasses) and mirrors. And the most important component: the tzompantli (a symbol of victory, where the heads of defeated enemies were put) depicted by sugar skulls (with the names of your deads and yourself on their forefront) and dead's bread (sugar bread with bone shapes).

And remember, it's a party! mourn, honor, remember and share with your defuncts!!!

These photos are from UNAM's megaaltar... this year it was quite weird... altars were thematic with asia and africa. As usual, the best altars were from Facultad de Ciencias and Escuela Nacional Preparatoria.