Sunday, October 22, 2006

How Do I Add Cheats To My Itouch Pokemon

Congress on inbreeding and harassment at the University

This post has been removed from this blog, but can be read here .

Monday, October 16, 2006

Ohio License, Holigram

be like coming home

could have also titled this post "L'enfer c'est nous "(Hell's us). Hell does not exist, at least as conceived by the Catholic dogma: the place of punishment where the souls of sinners are condemned to death, to eternal torment and suffering. In another post talk, maybe (or maybe not), the history of the concept of Hell in the West, because it is a curious invention of some parents of the Catholic Church, with counterfeiting and shameless manipulation of the biblical texts.

But now I want to dwell on a philosophical and literary topics: the assumption that there is Hell, yes, but not underground or anywhere after the death of men but here (on earth) and now (while living). We are the ones that we forge our own Hell ( L'enfer, c'est nous ), encouraging attitudes, thoughts and feelings that make us suffer, and also built the Hell for others, when we make them puñeta (and thus I said Jean Paul Sartre : L'enfer, c'est les autres ). In the novel

The Impatient Alchemist (2000), Lorenzo Silva of , researchers are questioning an individual, Clench Ochaita, suspected of murder. Ochaita actually innocent of the murder he is charged, and is also suffering a disease in its terminal stage (as in the novel dies shortly after this dialog):


"Look, Sergeant Ochaita spoke again, still face. I do not know how much I have left. I do not know if they will be fifteen days, or ten, or two. I have not had a bad life been good, I come with mine many times and I was able to see that many never get whims. But now it blows me [...] Moreover, if you had killed someone, now give me the pleasure to confess. Not that I do not believe in hell. Go do believe: I lived there. So I do not care what I expected. After all, this is like coming home .

What is the pedigree of this design classic ? Lucretius in Rome sought to disseminate Epicurean philosophy, under the guise of didactic poetry: he wrote a beautiful poem De rerum natura , on which we have mentioned more than once in this blog . One of the tenets of Epicurean philosophy is that Hell does not exist, among other reasons, because the souls of men did not survive the death of people. In a long passage in Book III (lines 978-1023), Lucretius argues that conventional punishment of Hell (those Tántalo, Ticio, las Dánaides) en realidad son metáforas de los sufrimientos que experimentamos en vida, fruto de nuestros vicios morales. He aquí algunos versos (978-983, 992-997):


Atque ea ni mirum quae cumque Acherunte profundo
prodita sunt esse, in vita sunt omnia nobis.
nec miser inpendens magnum timet aëre saxum
Tantalus, ut famast, cassa formidine torpens;
sed magis in vita divom metus urget inanis
mortalis casumque timent quem cuique ferat fors. [...]

sed Tityos nobis hic est, in amore iacentem
quem volucres lacerant atque exest anxius angor
aut alia quavis scindunt cuppedine curae.
Sisyphus in vita quoque nobis ante oculos est, qui petere a populo
saevasque fasces et semper Secures
imbibit tristisque recedit Victus.

And few doubt that the deep Acheron
punishment conveys the legend, all are in life. Tantalus
There is unfortunate that the huge rock theme
suspended in the air, as told, nothing paralyzed by terror;
but in life, the vain fear overwhelms
gods to mortals, and fear the perils to which each, will send you the chance.

Actually, for us Tityus is he who, overcome by love,
lacerate the vultures and recommend an anxious distress,
or we tear the troubles of any other passion. Sisyphus
there too, but in life and before our eyes:
is get the people who crave the beams and superb axes,
always defeated and withdrawn and sulky. Lope de Vega

held on the same topic in Sonnet 54 of his book human Rhymes (1609). Clearly following Lucretius, Lope compares legendary convicted of Hell (Danaides, Tantalus, Ixion, Sisyphus, Prometheus) with the intimate suffering caused by the jealousy of love


That forty-nine forever seeking to drain the lake
Averno;
Tantalus water and young tree
never try glass or apples;

suffered during the axle of your wheel moves
Ixion, for eternal time;
Sisyphus, crying in hell,
the hard edge of the mountain bears;

to pay the crazy warning
Prometheus being a thief of divine calling,
in the Caucasus, their arms linked;

terrible penalties are, but suddenly
see another lover in the arms of his mistress,
if they are older, who saw the tell.

Quevedo also believes that it is suffering in life, Hell of love in his heart: "My heart is a realm of terror."


EXAGGERATION Persevere in
YOUR LOVE AND AFFECTION IN EXCESS OF HIS SUFFERING

In the cloisters of the soul lies quiet
wound, but hungry
consume life in my veins feeds
widespread calls for the marrow. Bebe

hydropic my life burning, ash
already emaciated and loving, beautiful fire
body, holds its light
in smoke and darkness.

flee people, and am horrified by the day;
extend in long black voices crying, silent sea
that my burning pain sends.

A voice cries I gave the song,
l'confusion floods my soul: my heart is
reign of terror.

I have even a hypothesis about where particular read Lope de Vega and Quevedo the text of Lucretius: surely in one of the anthologies or miscellanies of Latin texts that were so successful during the sixteenth century, in which the extracts were encompassed under headings that represent topics and motives. The topics, in turn, were organized in alphabetical order. A likely candidate would be the book Illustrium poetarum flowers, Mirándula Octavian. He met many issues. A jewel of my library is a copy of this book, in 1553, whose cover is this:




And the text of Lucretius (one serving) is reproduced on page 347, under the topic "From Inferno" and heading "An Inferni poena sit aliquo & quod non sit, secundum quorundam insulsam opinionem" (If there is any punishment in Hell, and what is not, as the foolish opinion of some):




So, you know there is nothing to fear: If we accept the view of Lucretius, Hell does not exist, we create it ourselves, in life. And if Hell existed, there is no doubt that when we get there ... be like coming home . Well, it takes as much as possible ...

Technorati tags: Epicureanism , literary topoi, hell, Lucretius, Lope de Vega , Quevedo, Lorenzo Silva , Classical Tradition

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

How Give Yourself Enema No Equipment

Contigo pan y cebolla (o. .. can live love and fresh water?)

The term "you, bread and onions" is much more than a trite proverb. It reflects a reality of human nature and resume, on the other hand, the contents of a literary topic. When the infatuation

invades a subject (a love intense, recent), the lover's body triggers a neurophysiological response, including the release in the brain of a natural drug, produced by the body: the phenylethylamine. This substance has the pharmacological properties of amphetamine cause "symptoms of love" such as insomnia and appetite, and suppresses the feeling of fatigue. The lover, doped by this drug of love, feeling brave and immune to the dangers. I appeal now to the experience and memories of my readers, have not we experienced when we are in love and accompany the bride to the house at night, the feeling of being immune to street risks: for example, being assaulted by thugs?

But what was, phenylethylamine induce the subject to feel also resistant to fatigue, thirst and hunger. That is why the "feel" literally if you're in the company of the beloved, do not need material resources to sustain themselves (food, drink). Hence the saying Castilian: Contigo pan y cebolla . The French expressed the same conviction more poetically: "vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche (live on love and fresh water) *.

That feeling, that conviction is also a literary topic with classical roots. As I said in another post, about the apathy that causes love, in this case also the former are limited to development as a topical literary description of a neurophysiological state. Thus, the Latin elegiac poets repeatedly proclaim that they prefer the love of riches . More concretamente, a veces especifican que, con tal de estar con la mujer amada, no les importa vivir en la penuria de medios materiales (pseudo-Tibulo 3.3.23-24, 29-32):

Sit mihi paupertas tecum iucunda, Neaera,
At sine te regum munera nulla volo. [...]

Nec me regna iuvant nec Lydius aurifer amnis
Nec quas terrarum sustinet orbis opes.
Haec alii cupiant, liceat mihi paupere cultu
Securo cara coniuge posse frui.

¡Viva yo contigo, Neera, en feliz pobreza,
pero sin ti no quiero ni los regalos de los reyes! [...]

No me complacen los reinos, ni el río lidio, rico en oro,
ni cuantas riquezas contiene el orbe terráqueo.
Let others crave it, I wish I may, with poor support,
difrutar without grief of my beloved wife.

modern times, the French poet Jacques Prévert (who I quoted another poem here) produces a fantasy or erotic dream , with a dreamlike atmosphere and surreal feel able to live in absolute poverty, naked and desert, with his love, and subsisted only in this love ... and fresh water (I worry about where you plan to find fresh water in the desert, unless cerquita imagine an oasis, but the dreams, of course, are free and can afford to be inconsistent):

What did you dream? Dressed

then coated
what did you dream
naked

I let my mink in the cloakroom
and we went into the desert
We lived with love and fresh water
we loved in our misery
we ate our dirty linen in
famine and the slick black sand
dishes tinkled sun
We lived with love and fresh water
I bare your property.

¿Con qué
SONABA?

Vestida y vuelta has to invest, ¿con qué
SONABA
you undressed?

I left my
mink in the closet and we left the desert
lived with love and fresh water
loved us in our distress
we ate our clothes dirty, hungry and on the tablecloth
black sand
rattled the Sun dishes
lived with love and fresh water
I was your naked

property

And songwriter Joaquín Sabina takes the expression "bread and onions" to characterize a relationship, in his song "Eva taking the sun ", belonging to the disk The man in the gray suit (1988). The song can be heard here (5 MB MP3 file), and the first part of the letter says:

all began when the serpent
brought me an apple and said, "test"
I called Adam, surely
your name is Eve.

squatters lived in an apartment abandoned
Moratalaz,
if you have not been there have not seen
the Earthly Paradise.

We took a mattress in a trash
two chairs and a table with three legs, while I smudged sheet

you fry the potatoes.


Ketama hemp seeds planted and we grew up with the pot
window with a tree branch
science of good and evil.

Eva
liked being dark and he lay down every afternoon in the sun,
nobody ever saw a mermaid
so naked on a balcony.

Soon every window there was a
husband when they sat on the show my girl, but the TV would
deferred
Real Madrid Benfica.

One day the snake in a trance
Mezzanine his consort surprised
formed a stir and phoned
zero and ninety two.

And we did not have surnames,
or grape leaves, or an uncle councilman,
or
Cupid God but to no avail protest.

Eva sunbathing
blessed lack of control,
kisses, onion and bread ...
what more do you want Adam?

* Thanks to Monica M. Martinez for having reminded the French expression, for having made known poem by J. Prévert and, ultimately, for suggesting the topic of this post .

Technorati tags: , Tibullus , love poetry, Jacques Prévert , Joaquín Sabina , literary topoi, Classical Tradition