Wednesday, December 29, 2010

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AGENDA NO matter what we do

"There are certain things that fate intends stubbornly. Nothing will stand in reason and virtue, duty and all that is holy, something has to happen to him it looks good, and that we are not; and thus eventually arise without reference, whatever we do. "

About two months since I started reading the novel affinities elective (1809), JW Goethe (in translation of José María Valverde), whose chapter XIV of the second part belongs to the fragment above. The circumstances of everyday life, coupled with a growing inclination to laziness, have contributed to this slow progress through its pages, with interruptions, sometimes spanning weeks. I admit, despite being a classic, I've gone through soporific sites for black and white scenes that would have made it a favorite of Hollywood adaptation decorated in a false and dramatic melodies with echoes, rather, melodramatic, which have also earned the blessing of any Oscar. But I have also met with memorable insights and quotes from two or three lines, highlighted by my hand, which fill the first requirement applicable to any type highlighted in a novel universal that serve your readers, your only reader, to reconcile himself in a visceral, as if those words are combined there were written exclusively for one and would have had to wait many years to certify the accuracy of your message. Thus, for whom I am today, the fragment transcribed.

Friday, December 17, 2010

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CRISIS, FOOD COMPANY indigestion and

The place is suitable, one of those so-called "business lunch" where each guest know in advance that the waste will come out for about forty-five dollars sitting, plus gratuity euros then you feel like eating standing with his elbow on the bar or foot on the track. The issue, expected: the economic crisis that we have been suffering and that, as large numbers of large calculators, that was never the same since 1929, many of us study for an exam forgotten in the history books of the institute.
After paying the waste secular or religiously-Champagne or sparkling wine, including leftovers, "and having gone to several bars where you can breathe at night and smoke and hear the speaker himself, and throwing up the surfeit of incoming and Several dishes and desserts wildly in the cup that nobody was apetecerá place your urine ... After all, you go and ask which is exactly why in the first world economic crisis call, and what they think of this diagnosis apocalyptic those ancestors of ours who lost two days of train to reach its destination as sheep in the French wine harvest, and what shade will today, the exact time, the look of an African child who knows that his chances of surviving hunger are not higher than those of their parents or grandparents.
In these times, I can not imagine a more selfish and nasty world that the satisfied expression of who complains about the crisis with his mouth full.

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

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JORGE MARTÍNEZ DE PACO: THOUGHTS UNPUBLISHED

nine years ago today that left the world of the living the same day and almost at the same time that I read my doctoral thesis before a faculty quintet bulging eyes. I heard about the strange coincidence a few weeks later, refusing to judge the awkward irony of fate. Then, the generosity of his sister Mariola handed me his notebooks, old papers, was letting loose notes here and there this man makings of a writer, or vice versa. The book I edited that still-unpublished editorial contempt is a device that more than one that I know will explode in the face when the legacy will see the light, graduating, and is titled, The true artist . Today, beating the ninth anniversary Jorge's death, I wanted to remember it here and highlight their talent with a bunch of pansies sought in the bazaar of his words. Helos:

From now on he will not talk about authors, but works. Blessed

unpublished poets, because there are non-despotic view of the living and rest on the faith of a higher truth.

The first thing to an artist's exile, and second, immediately, do not forget their origins.

The contradiction is the daughter of intuition and the mother of truth.

of plenty who runs the risk of drowning in their misery.

learns to write by writing: to honor the infinitive is to grovel before the gerund.

His anger was shared so long and so mutual that they no longer had time to "rencorciliarse" .

Post a pseudonym must be like being born again.

A suicide is the height of arrogance.

No artist is not fully embody and consume generous pride, the humility of the artisan sovereign.

more rebellious spirits are also the more permissive. Why?

If you eat the world, as you say, end up alone and no one to tell, cornered by indigestion or vomiting.

If poetry is humility, the greatest enemy of poetry is the same as the poet says.

Beware the wit of a sentence if the horizon hides complex discourse, and those trees that destroy the beauty proud solidarity of the forest.

Is lawful self-citation, or de-legitimized and born in original sin?

In art, it is not compete, but to get there: only mediocrity is reduced to the competition.

attribute "Perfect" should always put it in quotes. Edit

is a concession, perhaps weak, almost defeat.

After reading my poems called me clever. Witty said, not great. Here too the language is just and cruel, and conclusive.

Is there pride in the continuing vindication of the substantive value of humility as an artist?

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

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Plagued by the memory of the man he killed, almost on the verge of despair, the protagonist is lost in the various passages of his own nightmare. When his eyes finally opened, just in time to see the same face under the same wide-brimmed hat, the same stench of rotten cigar less than an inch of their noses, the same gun pointed at his forehead and staring at her cold steel ring. He already knows he is dead when the other flexes the index and you hear a click coming from far away.

Friday, November 5, 2010

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READ YESTERDAY'S VISIT

"What argument here? What need help here? Do you think I am in the world to give advice, that's the dumbest occupation can be undertaken. Let each one give advice to other same and do what you can not stop doing. If he goes well, be glad your wisdom and your luck, if it goes wrong, then I'm on hand. Who wants to get rid of an evil, always knows what she wants, who wants something better than it is as blind. Yes, yes, I can smile!, Playing blind man's buff, and probably hits the mark, but what? Do what you want: the same thing! I've seen things go wrong more reasonable, and work out the wildest. Do not break your head, and although in one way or another goes wrong, it is not broken ".

JW Goethe, Elective Affinities (Chapter II)

Saturday, October 30, 2010

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few days ago I awoke from its long night my lettera olivetti-32, not a gloomy start, but because I wanted to give the appearance typing a rough draft poems to frame along with some photos. I pulled the zipper of the case, I ordered the relic on a table and watched with rapture house for a few minutes. It's the typewriter that I wanted for me some day I can feel remote Reyes, the same keyboard that struggled under the literary enthusiasm of my fingers for more than three decades, the same structure that was neglected and almost forgotten when I reached the wonderful spell of the new technology. I wondered whether the mechanism would have stalled for lack of use if the tape would have dried ink. I pushed a sheet of paper roll, repeating the movement with the skill of so many times, and returned to hit each letter to complete, random, several words. It worked!: There was the unmistakable pop of the keys, the unique feeling in the fingertips, the thrill of my poetry recovered adolescents and the wake of its fall sadder. I kept typing and suddenly sprang the heads of my two children aged twelve and nine, who had heard the wit and could not imagine what that noise. Of course, they were willing and I let them try, I explained that we had to give dry panache to the button and remove the finger, I revealed how the paper was marked by the intercession of the tape and ink.
Once I heard late Nobel Prize, at a conference, the story of some friends who came from the United States to his country house, the offspring of those friends was surprised at how advanced they were here, because to turn the light at the shelter there was no pressing any key that would cause the electric current, but just enough to light a match with one's hand and bring it immediately to the lamp to be the miracle. I remembered the story while my children played the typewriter, wondering, in his innocence very latest computers and printers, from the obvious mechanism, and I believe that at least for a few minutes with his father shared the excitement anachronistic to attend each letter printed on paper, after the outbreak of the key dry.

Friday, October 15, 2010

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was yesterday morning over a cup where there was coffee, and accompanied him and two friends with whom she chats about the good work of director Clint Eastwood on those years in that remote we had television in our house, about a strange movie whose title no one remembered but that passed in Mongolia and the Amazon jungle and on the African savanna about the final of a World Cup, to what can two boobs that overflow of a newspaper photo on the poetic wisdom in the lyrics of Sabina, the contradictions and controversies of Nobelísimo Vargas Llosa and many more things that can not be written on a public blog. Suddenly I said, almost without thinking:
"If I was able to write a best seller, leave literature.
And friend, circumspect: "That phrase
have to write it down somewhere.
So bring it here, obedient and a bit stunned, so that vent from the remnants of this scrip.

Friday, October 8, 2010

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WORD OF NOBEL

"Literature does not buy happiness, but it makes us more able to live with unhappiness." Mario Vargas Llosa


(* The quotation is not literal, but as I remember, he has time, with due respect source, rather quote by approximation).

Thursday, September 16, 2010

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"like seagulls on the beach" Pablo Neruda


Assuming that the syntax is a faculty of the soul, as he wrote, I think, Paul Valery, "I wonder if there is life beyond analysis and dissection of an improper final adverbial subordinate clause. I wonder now that we return to the classroom and that teachers of language and literature review ESO and Bachillerato outdated schedules for their departments and are revised targets and percentage rates to harass the new batch of teenagers who lurk in the centers school. And I wonder if I will have fallen I also trap the years-and more than three decades, and if I've lost sight of what a privilege it is to convey how little you know and how little one is for those who look at you with incredulous eyes from immediacy of his desk. I note that something as simple and as beautiful as the English language and literature that is reduced gradually dignified, for many of my colleagues, too many of my colleagues, a methodical wasteland where the jargon thrown their frustration to complement and direct and indirect anaphora and hyperbole and other blessings satisfied to justify the horizon of their knowledge. Since there are few that give test that Garcilaso sonnet or can down no fuss a page Quixote. Thus, the best students of the next generations, the others have already drawn his yawn-made endless parsing and crossword solver on a towel on the sand, without appreciating the sound of the sea in a poem by Neruda.

Monday, April 19, 2010

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REFLECTION OF OUR LOVE OF THE FLIGHT OF LOVE OUR BEACH


Although silence is made eminent
not change the thoughts and caresses
become strange things
not be the same again ...
We left when things do not go as we
and flee from reality as entities
terrified and we were cynically
when everything is rosy,
selfishness is present
and of no use what the other thinks.

Monday, March 8, 2010

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(for my love-Edugo)

beachfront
a sea of \u200b\u200buncontrollable passions
the sun to be half
and my thundering beat
eager to take your thin body.

Your look unusual
bubbling chest
an insatiable desire for pleasure,
your lips I kiss with passion,
phone warm hands touch me without repression,
your naked body on mine
moistened with strokes of love
my skin burning with rave
in your heart.

Your soft voice calling me,
silent wind
that proclaims the love song
I sing whenever I say how much I love them.
And the joy of having you,
to know you're with me,
sparkling joy
harmonizing our day
the distance each increasingly broad
between loneliness and me
the moon flashing school
its dim light between the sheets
and envelops us and ferociously sweet
between rage and love
of our souls.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

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CRYING IN THE SAND TODAY


Poetic frenzy complexed
these red lips without being kissed;
soil mocks my tears
and wind rush is
stops and passes a thousand distances to
not be smeared
no return crying, pain
hindered,
my bearskin shaved.

Where the dead must be
that since his departure
were lost in a shipwreck of wild passions,
this is the cycle of martyrdom,
the psalm without divine mantle,
a popular science article
to see if a poet reads.

The bitterness of being a
thinking without words or spitting,
of who remains silent out of compassion
and trapping
uncertainty in pollen extract
to try to fertilize
made glass sand.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

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Y. Experience See RCN me back

This post is a response to a comment from my friend Julio Ramirez on Theory X and Y. A while ago I tried to write about my experiences, but was a long post longer than this, especially the memories of my school they give for a separate post, I really want to be more objective.

Only once agrees to work in a school, teaching at 10 and 11, and as there was a program I decided to implement a different system, a system and, in my system had no notes, only small projects, it was not necessary attend classes, but had to move forward on projects, on the other side was the content, the course was about mathematics modern number theory, topology, applied mathematics (some projects involving Bernoulli numbers, game theory, Euler characteristic, graph theory, applied mathematics studied in some digital systems), at the beginning some students tried to sabotage the class recocha engage in, these students were interesting - I noticed that when the break did not eat breakfast, so I started to invite them for breakfast every day and stop to talk to them in the end were the most committed, a moral, with no hunger motivation.

Everything was moving very well, began to emerge very good ideas were discovering concepts, suggesting ideas and had a total order in the classroom, breathed a spirit of hard work and commitment that impressed me a lot, in fact some of these students were more creative than my college students. I expected a total failure and I met a great success, of course had a few students were, but wanted to learn, and they were always asking questions and went, that was important.

class occasionally became a physics class or economy, taking interesting and unexpected directions. But problems arose, the director had a long series of complaints, I had to follow a program according to ministry, which was asking to use the book as the school had a commitment to the editorial, could not take breaks (the class was 3 hours straight) and could not eat breakfast with students, or rather with the students, it was frowned upon , which was to take list and exams, and my job was to coordinate with the other teacher because she was terrified of my methods, it was teaching them things that even she knew.

Well I agreed on some things, like making a program, make a clear partial disqualification and make the break in the classroom, it was usually a place to talk about movies, TV and criticize the Colombian but could not force anyone to buy a book that was very bad, "if there were 70,000 students who had no breakfast, I imagine that with an expenditure of these your family should be deprived of some basic need-so di the option of using any books or make photocopies, and clear conflict with the director, I accuse myself of sloth (not to make assessments) and not be committed to the institution (to lose money they do not follow the book) and that after a couple of months called me, raised me easily, or do what you say or is fired, so I quit. Apparently delayed enough to re-implement the system and failed to get regular students buy the book, they complained all year, asking that my system will be implemented in all areas.

My conclusions from this experience is that in that school only interested in money and not students, in fact, some teachers were treated as if they were delayed, the owners and teachers were treated as if they were delayed starving a saturated market are easily replaceable parts, so I better shut up and do your job, your job is behind many, that was the philosophy. The worst thing is that 99% of schools are in that style.

On one hand I realized that all have interests and work if you move. Even the best of the class was a student in other courses considered him mentally ill. We must make education more humane, that does not mean drinking beer with the students, but if you understand a little about your environment and be flexible in some situations, and more if it is difficult socio-economic backgrounds. That education should not be in the hands of administrators (bad managers) should be in the hands of people who care about education and people, not only to maximize profits and maintain discipline.

On the other hand I think the standards of education are really mediocre things really can be taught interest in secondary education. Middle school books suck. The salaries of middle school teachers are a pittance, are to maintain depressed. Secondary education is perfect for producing cheap labor, with zero self-esteem, zero creativity, and zero social and political criticism, the typical employee of the typical third world companies. (The upper classes of Colombia studying abroad or in schools with foreign educational systems).

Well now we come to the University, my first teaching experience was very interesting, I took some liberties, I remember that in calculus II Univalle teach Fourier series notation Landau, among other things and stop the calculation was applied to study the laws of Maxwell (two students joined a primitive radio) the result was great, the classes were intense and exciting, and my problems circulated and discussed by all parties and some answers really surprised me.

But the boss said ships to the level they are engineers, then I played a course in economics has been the worst experience of my life, people of no interest (there were two exceptions), I remember this class as students they were dead in their chairs, was then more students with less motivation and less motivated colleagues with students, then came massive courses, classes, workshops, standardized super classes in auditoriums, budget problems, public university finally getting worse exponentially, but still made some good research and many brilliant people have opportunities to develop their potential, but if everything goes as it is, it will end.

Icesi
Then I started in, I just simply say that such attempts to propose expanding exhibitions on subjects seen in the course or where they could apply what they learned, the results are grayish. Some students recognize that math is much more than what can be displayed in a course and found items that were of interest also was his first encounter with something similar to an investigation, that was the good part. The downside, some students saw it as an opportunity to get a simple note, presentations and impromptu mediocre (some extremely poor), others made presentations to technical resources and little content (much substantive little verb), it seems that it works other course. Well, some did not go well, but in the effort to understand some things you can do better and acceptable standards are higher than they thought, there is much to learn, and gladly recognize that effort, I know I touch and I hope that they can use to see things with a different tone.

the bitter Well I have not been removed, the only thing that counted was the good faith, but some people behave in an indecent way a note is all that matters, appear in Table of honor and 10 subjects to see the next semester, I that. But the students make a decent stay.

I am now evaluating objectively which has led to this state of things, all this deserves serious reflection and taking action, but perhaps the best start is to ask students to reflect on what they want and how that they do, they are more critical, and try to avoid what can the way that makes them more stupid, this is usually is easier, is to follow all the instructions to the letter without thinking. The universities have what they are to call into question what is stated, science advances thanks to mistrust, not to swallow it whole ... and if Newton was wrong and if Einstein ... it is curious that the systems are always privileged beings with the ability to support themselves. But in general the average is less and less creative and more ready to eat, perfect economic units.

always bored me to write, is because this is basically useless, finally, the moment I'm still trying to offer a creative alternative, to release a little pressure about grades, but not to be lazy, but rather so they can think without pressure, can stop to meditate from time to time.

Although as stated in July, some see freedom as an opportunity to do nothing, make a note without effort, which is a bit disappointing. But some students take it well, and for them it is worth continuing to do things well.

Amid this swing is that I am the best teacher, but try to improve. Not enough to have moments of inspiration, I find ways to give all I can give in the present order of things, but I do not lack the desire. But it's sad know that humanity is what it is, because we we devise ways to pass information from one generation to another, it gave us the advantage as a species, and now all this because every time we go to less information, or meaningless information , or single pass important information to selected groups.

in our country is more sad, teachers are unlikely to be enforced, is intended almost no money for education and research, there is a negative perception of the profession, fewer and fewer people are studying or have undergraduate teacher vocation Some students treat teachers like their maids, good teachers are the obstacles for cardboard, little knowledge is appreciated, and will remain third world (the third is because most teachers have salaries of three), if this does not change.