dimecres, 6 de febrer de 2019

The sound of that knife

Simco was out of the hole. He was back and everybody was aware of it. Anybody else might have gone unnoticed, but not Simco. He was a coldblooded killer.
It wasn't that he invited anybody's notice, he didn't. He was quite, polite, and if you didn't know better you'd swear he was recently graduated from some Ivy League college, maybe Yale, and then you might guess he'd gone on to serve his country for a few years, maybe as a fighter pilot. Clean-cut, handsome, with a good smooth jaw, you might want to introduce him to your daughter, do a little match-making, for he must have great genes. And he had those eyes, calm, non-offensive. Might be a marine, no, not enough fire in those eyes. The calm before the storm? Maybe. A cat ready to pounce? Absolutely not, for he was too relaxed, too sure of himself to bother with such aggressive games.
But then when took his shirt off and you saw his smooth skin and slim, hard-packed waist and hard muscled body, well, something didn't add up.
He had killed his punk. I don't know why, I'm just telling you what I know. He killed his punk, his sissy, whatever you wan to call him. He killed him in cold blood down in the shower room with a guard looking straight at him. He stood over his punk and calmly watched him die while the guard threw a roll of toilet paper at him from a distance trying to break it up. That's the truth. Threw a roll of toilet paper at him, which as far as I'm concerned was a brave act, for I wouldn't even have done that. I'd have got the hell out of there as soon as I heard the sound of that knife thudding into flesh. The killing thrust of a knife is not silent. It has a distinct thud, and if you ever heard it you'll remember it forever. Simco killed his punk right there in broad daylight in front of a guard who committed the brave acte beyond the call of duty of throwing a roll of toilet paper at him.
And then Simco calmly and voluntarily allowed them –for in short order there were a whole gang of guards present, all out of breath and none willing to get close to that bloody knife –Simco allowed them to take him to the hole where he remained for many months until he went to court over in San Francisco and was found not guilty by a jury, not guilty of anything because the jury of ordinary people couldn't believe for one minute that such a nice, clean-cut boy imprisoned at Alcatraz with all those monsters could possibly be guilty of murder and if he was he must have done it in self-defense to keep from being raped or mutilaed or maybe even eaten alive.


William G. Baker, Alcatraz #1259.

dimecres, 30 de gener de 2019

Els millors llibres de l'Iceberg 2018

 


 
Iceberg d'Or: Maximum city, de Suketu Mehta.

Iceberg de Plata: The Courtier and the Heretic, de Matthew Stewart.

Iceberg de bronze: A supposedly fun thing I'll never do again, de David Foster Wallace.
+.+.+

4. Les possessions, de Llucia Ramis.

5. Zinc, de David van Reybrouck.

diumenge, 27 de gener de 2019

The founding virtues of the new world order

In the closing sections of his Tractatus, Spinoza sketches the outlines of a radical and quintessentially modern political theory. His fundamental aim is to replace the reigning, theocratic conception of the state with one founded on secular principles. According to the theocrats, the state is the temporal representative of a divine order. The purpose of the state, in other words, is to serve God; and the role of the ecclesiastics is to tell the people just what it is that God wants. Spinoza says, in a nutshell, that the purpose of the state is to serve humankind; and it is up to the people to tell the state what they want.

Spinoza, like most modern theorists, grounds the legitimacy of political authority in the self-interest of individuals. He argues not only that everyone, and every thing, for that matter, is driven by self-interest but that they ought to be as well. "The more every man endeavors and is able to seek his own advantage, the more he is endowed with virtue," he says in the Ethics. "To act in absolute conformity with virtue is nothing else in us but to act, to live, to preserve one's own being (these three mean the same) under the guidance of reason on the basis of seeking one's own advantage."

It turns out, of course, that self-interested human beings have much to gain from cooperation. Spinoza stresses that human beings in the absence of an ordered society live in miserable circumstances. Like Thomas Hobbes before him, he envisions something like a "social contract," according to which individuals cede their rights to a sovereign collective in order to acquire the benefits of living under the rule of law. The function of the state, in this view, is to provide the peace and security that enable naturally free individuals to cooperate with one another and thereby fulfill themselves. Spinoza, with the pithiness so characteristic of his work, condenses it all into a lapidary formula: "the purpose of the state is freedom."

Unlike Hobbes, however, Spinoza does not present this social contract as a one-off, absolutely binding surrender of all rights by the individual to the state. Rather, Spinoza says, the contract is constantly up for renewal; and should the state fail to live up to its end of the bargain, the citizenry has a right to revoke the agreement. Furthermore, he maintains, there are some rights that no one is able to cede-such as the right to think and hold one's own opinions, or what he calls "the freedom of conscience." Finally, whereas Hobbes concludes that the terms of the original contract are best realized in an absolute monarchy, Spinoza concludes (albeit with a number of caveats) that justice is most fully realized in a democracy, for a democracy is most apt to express the collective will that legitimizes the state in the first place.

Spinoza's advocacy of democracy on the basis of individual rights was extraordinarily bold for its time, and it qualifies him as the first truly modern political philosopher. He was indisputably the forerunner of the theorists who would later underwrite the Constitution of the United States, the French Revolution, and the rest of the secular, liberal, and democratic order of today.

Spinoza did not invent the idea of a secular state founded on self-interest; rather, he observed it clearly for the first time. In the late seventeenth century, the bewildering diversity of religious creeds that grew out of the Reformation, the variety of human experience on display in public life brought about by economic development and urbanization, and the manifestly secular quality of allegedly divine rulers who emerged at the top of national administrations –in other words, the same combination of developments that made Spinoza's own life as a double exile possible– had already rendered the old theocratic ideals de facto obsolete. The "problem of authority"–that is, the source of the legitimacy of political power– had already become the subject of intense concern among thinkers such as Hobbes and Machiavelli. The defining move of Spinoza's political philosophy was to affirm this new world of secular self-interest. He embraced modernity as the foundation of a new kind of ideal-the ideal of a free republic. The very features of modernity that were then and are still regarded by many as its signature evils –the social fragmentation, the secularity, and the triumph of self-interest– he enshrined as the founding virtues of the new world order. His political philosophy was, in essence, an active response to the challenges of modernity.


Matthew Stewart, The Courtier and the Heretic.

dilluns, 21 de gener de 2019

The 2018 Best Iceberg movies




Golden Iceberg: Roma, de Alfonso Cuarón.

Silver Iceberg: Mauvais sang, de Léos Carax.

Bronze Iceberg: Wild, wild country, Maclain and Chapman Way.

+.+.+


4th: Wadjda, Haifaa al Mansour.

5th: Le souffle au coeur, Louis Malle.

divendres, 11 de gener de 2019

The 2018 best music of the Iceberg





Golden Iceberg: Kaltes klares Wasser, Malaria!.

Silver Iceberg: King kunta, Kendrick Lamar.

Bronze Iceberg: Oh Jesús!, Vainica Doble.

+.+.+


4th, A galopar, Niños mutantes.

5th, Tristis est anima mea, Carlo Gesualdo.

diumenge, 30 de desembre de 2018

La magia de mi melena




Bueno, mujeres de Torre del Mar, soy Rober Martín Rodríguez, de aquí de la provincia de Torre del Mar, Vélez, Málaga, y esto es un vídeo para promocionarme entre mujeres de unos... de unos 30 hasta... hasta 54 años. Tengo 42 años de edad y, nada, soy nacido el [ininteligible] de 1976 y nada, pues elijo mujeres, o 12 años más grande o 12 años más pequeñas y... ¿vale? Apenas tengo contacto con las drogas. Practico la inteligencia, la cultura, la filosofía, la sabiduría, el saber estar, la educación, y tengo un buen puesto de trabajo, en un futuro tendré buen puesto de trabajo. Practico varios deportes, soy deportista; apenas tengo contacto con los estupefacientes, no me gustan porque debilitan, y yo intento mejorar mentalmente, físicamente. Y nada, elijo mujeres de unos 30 años. Mirad la magia de mi melena.
Soy de raza blanca. En julio, agosto, septiembre pues me bronceo un poco pero no mucho, en invierno soy de raza blanca, ¿vale? Mirad la magia de mi melena. Negro azabache, y nada, pues dedico todo el vídeo a todas las mujeres de unos 30 años hasta 40 y pico, corto o largo, que me eligieron Míster, Míster Coco de la zona de marcha aquí en Torre del Mar, que me acuerdo de vosotras, he estado con 104 de todas vosotras, espero estar con alguna más, alguna de vosotras, mujeres que he tenido contacto sexual con ellas, o físico, soy femimista, busco mujeres solteras y sin novio. Mirad la magia de mi melena.
He podido tener varios pinitos en el mundo de la moda. En el año 98, cuando me eligieron Míster, hubo ojeadores, y si ojeáis algún vídeo, algún canal de moda, por el pelo, por los dientes, por la cara o por el aspecto extranjero. Pues aquí estoy, mi facebook Roberto Martín Rodríguez, Torre del Mar, Málaga, míradme.
Y yo elijo, pues hacer amigas, o buscar hacer amigas de unos 30 años hacia adelante, unos 12 años abajo unos 12 años arriba. No me gustan las veinteañeras; mirad, observad la magia de mi melena.
Esta melena va directa a la moda, el diseño. Yo elijo mujeres de mi etnia, no elijo pijas. Elijo mujeres de mi etnia, no me gusta para nada la gente de dinero, soy de clase media. ¿Vale? ¿Ok? Miradme. Observad la magia de mi melena.
Y nada, intento cuidar mi aspecto físico, mental, mis dientes, mi cultura, mi intelecto, mi mentalidad. Todo va por etapas, esta es una etapa nueva. Y nada, pues si me tengo que relacionar, me gusta la madurez con varones, no me gusta para nada el risoteo ni el colegueo. Soy formal, serio para una mujer, feminista. Se puede sacar conversaciones conmigo. Tiro para la mujer, siempre he tirado para la mujer. Nada más hay que ver la melena, que es melena de mujer. ¿Vale? ¿Ok? Con esto quiero decir que atraiga al sexo opuesto de mí. ¿Ok? Miradme.
Pues lo dicho, estoy abierto a mujeres de 30 años también, hasta 52. No me gustan mucho las mujeres más mayores que yo. Mi estándar son, pues, las de mi edad. Me eligieron Míster mujeres 3, 4, 5, 6 años más pequeñas. Esto se me queda en mi cara, en mi melena, en mis dientes, en mi intelecto, en mi sexología, en todo ello, ¿vale? Miradme.
Mi facebook es Robero Martín Rodríguez, edad 42 años, por si tenéis inconveniente si... 42 años. Mirad la marcha de mi melena, observad la marcha de mi melena.
Para que veáis que soy blanco.
Mirad que este soy yo de modelo.
Mirad como me brilla mi melena, pues un beso y un saludo.


Roberto Martín Rodríguez, Torre del Mar, Málaga

dilluns, 24 de desembre de 2018

And the worms will come for you




Drift all you like
From ocean to ocean
Search the whole world
But drunken confessions
And hijacked affairs
Will just make you more alone.
When you come home
I'll bake you a cake
Made of all their eyes
I wish you could see me
Dressed for the kill
You're my man of war.

And the worms will come for you,
Big Boots.

So unplug the phones,
Stop all the taps,
It all comes flooding back.
From poisoned clouds
To poisoned dwarf
You're my man of war.

And the worms will come for you,
Big Boots.

Yeah the worms will come for you,
Big Boots.
For you,
Big Boots.


Radiohead, Man of war.

divendres, 21 de desembre de 2018

La república no existeix, idiota!



–Mosso: Tu ets funcionari com jo o què?
–Agent forestal: Sí.
–M: Pues defensa'm a mi i no a aquests fills de puta.
–AF: Jo defenso la república!
–M: Què república ni què collons! Què república ni què república... La república no existeix, idiota!


21 de desembre del 2018,  protestes dels CDR contra la reunió del Consell de Ministres.

dissabte, 8 de desembre de 2018

Nosotros somos españoles



Porque nosotros celebramos la Navidad, ponemos el belén, ponemos el árbol, celebramos nuestras tradiciones, nuestra Semana Santa y nos sentimos orgullosos, y al que no le guste, ¡que se aguante! ¡Porque nosotros somos españoles! ¡Y celebramos la Navidad, y la Semana Santa, y nos sentimos orgullosos de nuestros agricultores! ¡Y defendemos la caza, y defendemos al que quiera ir a los toros, que vaya, y al que no le guste, que no vaya! ¡Pero que no se prohibe nada! ¡Ya está bien! ¡Ya está bien!


Teodoro García Ejea, secretario general del Partido Popular.

dissabte, 1 de desembre de 2018

El dibbuq



Per què, per què
l'ànima cau dels cims més elevats
als abismes més pregons?
La caiguda porta
en si mateixa l'ascensió
[...]

Un cop l'any, a una hora determinada, les quatre santedats supremes del món es reunien. Això passava el dia de l'expiació quan el gran sacerdot entrava al lloc santíssim i pronunciava el nom inefable de Déu. Aquest moment era infinitament sagrat i terrible, i alhora perillosíssim, tant per al gran sacerdot com per a tot el poble d'Israel; ja que un sol pensament impur o capritxós del gran sacerdot –Déu nos en guard– hauria posat fi al món. Cada indret on un home es planta per alçar la vista cap al cel és el lloc santíssim. Cada persona creada a imatge i semblança de Déu és un gran sacerdot; cada dia en la vida d'un home és el dia de l'expiació, i cada paraula que una persona profereix amb sinceritat és el nom de Déu. Per això cada pecat i cada falta que un home comet porta a la destrucció del món. Així com l'infant cerca el pit de la seva mare, les ànimes humanes, després de molt de dolor i patiment i de nombroses encarnacions retornen al seu origen, el tron celestial. A vegades, però, quan l'ànima assoleix el nivell més alt de puresa, és assetjada per les forces malignes –que Déu ens empari–, i llavors ensopega i cau. I com més s'ha enlairat, més gran és la caiguda. I quan cau una ànima així, s'ensorra tot un món, els palaus s'entenebren i les deu esferes planyen la pèrdua.


An-Ski, Entre dos mons: El dibbuq.