It's Just Nothing. It's Just I

Once again, MacBeth keeps bringing up interesting topics to be thought about. The plenty of parallelisms and contradictions in MacBeth's speech leads, according to experts, to ponder all possibilities of non-existence of matter and subjects. This, therefore, can't help but relate to some human issues --at least I can't-- but under another light. It, somehow, seems to be a treaty on emptiness.

Void, according to most definitions, does not possibly exist, since it can't be grasped by human senses. What's the point, then, of naming something that does not even exist? The void, indeed, does exist. Just because it can't be seen does not mean that it is not: God doesn't physically come when someone prays for something (life unfortunately is not a Monty Python movie!) and many people, yet, believe in him. People perhaps believe in this mute promise of a better afterlife for they have just realized that both destiny and earthly circumstances will not be merciful to them;I find myself among them now and then, so that I can't blame them any longer. Put simply, sometimes we prefer the milder less ominous no-thing to the fateful earthliness of matter.

Resignation, however, is one of the most perfect ways to embrace the void, or maybe the other way around, rather. This calmness becomes achievable when this antimatter lies deeply in one's heart or mind. It paradoxically turns into a coherent substance that can almost be grabbed. Void also becomes a smelly barrier that the others detect from miles away, thence feelings of isolation break in, since ordinary people mostly scorn those wretches who drag behind them void and its side-effects. Yet, some of us gladly cling to it due to the lack of a better choice and find it better than reality, as I have previously stated. As for me, I have been in love with void for fifteen months and I don't seem I will get rid of this infatuation in the short term. Why do I like to stick to it, I don't know, maybe because this void had once female form I dare not to forget. Why am I still in love with her, if I only saw her just once and, yet, stupidly let her go, I know even the less. I just know that I embrace this void plenty of times per day without regrets, even if the daily process becomes more painful as days go by. Nevertheless, it is I who, without intention, caused this heart-shaped vortex that will someday suck everything close to it. Once this happens I will embrace the void, return to it, and maybe I'll finally be by her side, as it should have physically happened since fifteen months ago. I shall not feel myself empty anymore.

My Lucky Number's 23

As I type this I am aware that St George's Day took place three days ago, since it is a national holiday in many countries, such as Catalonia, England, some provinces of Northern Italy, and a plenty of East European countries --when I saw this Saint's image on the coat of arms of Moscow City, I was quite amazed, indeed. Never thought that such holy knight would have had such a widespread fame.

On such a day I decided to kind of celebrate it, though I did not have any idea of how I should've done it, since I've never been so fond of my ancestry's heritage. Just for a change I went to see Anton Corbijn's Control, which I was long since looking forward to see. It's flawless photography and memorable soundtrack, however, did not amount to make it the most amazing picture ever. Though I don't mean it is a bad film, quite the opposite, but it could have been far better, indeed. This movie, nevertheless, is a "must" for everyone who brags of being a Rock connoiseur. Its commercial success in this zone, unfortunately, did not seem to go beyond the "alternative" taste, so that only few cinemas played it for only a few weeks. I'm glad I managed to see it before its deadline.

Yet, it is no wonder that certain coincidences came out during such a day, even if they primarily sound quite shallow: April 23rd is one of England's scant national holidays (Protestants don't worship any kind of saint, though.) Even more interesting strikes the fact that St. George has, not so long since, been removed from Catholic calendar, since there is no evidence whatsoever that may prove St. George's existence on earth. The tradition, yet, still abides. One interesting fact is that legendary frontman Ian Curtis performed his finale aged 23. Corbijn shows both respect and refinement enough by describing it through a series of camera shots and sound effects and, therefore, he must be given his due. Plus the cathartic emotional waterfall that unleashes the wonderful "Atmosphere," Joy Division's best track ever. As the film was over I started to ponder on number 23 due to the special date and Curtis's age, since I will turn 23 on September 23rd. These facts taken all together keep reminding me that I should do something worth remembering before something else happens.

Unfortunately I forgot to buy red roses for the ladies I know...

"The World Is Growing Loud"

Die Welt Wird Immer Laut (DE)

Die Welt wird immer laut
Für uns ist es Zeit,
Zum Grau zu Werden
Ich wünsche mir, sie liessen uns herbleiben

Die Lichter werden ausgeschaltet
Wir wussten, wir sollten eines Tages
Weggehen
Ich wünsche mir, sie nähmen uns an

Der Himmel stürzt ein
Für uns ist es zu spät, unsere Meinungen
Zu wechseln
Ich wünsche mir, sie hielten uns in Sicherheit

Die Zeit vergeht schnell
Wir wussten, wir würden nicht so lang
Bestehen bleiben
Ich hoffe, sie würden den Rhythmus weiterhalten

Die Welt wird immer laut
Für uns ist es Zeit,
Zu verschwinden
Ich wünsche mir, sie liessen uns herbleiben

(Lyrics by Eskil Simonsson and Joakim Montelius, members of Swedish Electronica band Covenant. Translation to German by Jordi "Johannes Fortelius" González)

Finding someone is not easy. It's just a big lie that movies have long since fed us on.

Control

Control heisst der neue Film von niederländischem Regieseur Anton Corbijn (es muss "Corbein" ausgesprochen werden). Was für ein Eigentum könnte dieser Film haben? Er geht um die letzten Tagen des mythologischen Sängers Ian Curtis, wer auch Frontman der wundervoll englischen Post-Punk Band Joy Division war. Trotzdem habe ich früher gehört, dass der Film nicht so gut ist. Doch es geht um Joy Division! Dieser Film sollte von allen gesehen werden. Ich habe zwar den zu sehen versucht, aber er wird in zu wenige Kinos gespielt. Leider konnte ich den heute nicht sehen, weil das Kinoprogramm in der Zeitung falsch war. Dass der Film um 17.20 Uhr gespielt würde, habe ich notiert. Aber, als ich am Schalter des Kinos war, hat mir der Kartenverkaufer gesagt, dass der Film nur um 22.40 Uhr gespielt würde. Ich habe kein Auto, deswegen konnte ich nicht dort bleiben. Ich muss diesen Film irgendwie sehen.

Dusk Hours

I long for sleep.
I long for dreams
that bring me back to you,
or the other way around.

In my dreams I'd conceive
the ability to recall dreams.
Probably I'd finally get back
the capacity to beget them, maybe.

In my dreams, therefore, both fate and life
would smile at me now and then, perhaps more often.
There I wouldn't have to beg for hope or force, since
I would never lack them.

I could wait forever...

In my dreams you'd never disappear,
I could listen to your voice in the middle of
the loudness of the world. Your face would never fade
to gray; shadows of loss and distance would never touch it.

I could find you once again but never
let you go away from me, never again.
Your eyes would light my way back to you.
I'd never go astray and lose myself in vain mazes.

I would find in your arms
the safest place to dream, finally.
I'd gladly lock my heart
in them, you'd put it right beside yours.

You would keep it by yourself, it's brand new...

You'd possess my time, you and I would spend it
and never notice how it would
run out. You'd easily compress it,
it would be all yours, with no regrets.

Surrender would embody certainty,
just to make you realize that no one,
but you, had ever managed to drive my will
to hand myself.

In my dreams I would always stand by you.
My will would efface my weaknesses.
I'd rise from the lowest point
to carry your world, our world.

You would lie next to me and stop my every-day collapse.

Ähnliche Leute oder Brüder

Mi hermana fue quien me dio esta graciosísima idea. Es ella quien merece todo el crédito, pues el parecido es innegable.

Y con este gag celebro el haber cumplido con las 480 horas reglamentarias de Servicio Social, aunque creo que voy a extrañarlo, pues la pasé muy bien. La computadora que tenía ahí es mil veces mejor que la mía, gracias a ella pude descargar música que no encotraba en ninguna parte.

¡Hasta siempre, Notimex! La pasé muy bien mientras duró.

Song

Chequen este link:

http://www.goear.com/listen.php?v=3b5d389

P.D.¿Alguien habla turco? Ayuda por favor. Gracias.

The Most Amazing Story Ever Written

Los niveles de preparación para un exámen internacional de cualquier idioma consisten, por lo general, en repasos monótonos, pues no aprendes nada nuevo. No obstante, si no quieres hacer el ridículo frente a los cónsules o maestros tienes que estudiar todo de nuevo (en mi caso, si no paso el jodido Zertifikat Deutsch, adiós a nivel 6 en el CELE).

Como ejercicio para aprender a usar correctamente los Verben mit Präpositionalergänzung escribimos en equipo una historia corta que , aparentemente, tuvo muy buena recepción. Sin embargo, no todos la han leído --para eso tendrían que ir hasta el salon 204 del edificio B del CELE en CU. Dado que Internet hace más cómoda nuestras vidas, algunos me sugirieron reproducir la misma historia en este medio. Los Verben mit Präpositionalergänzung y derivados aparecen en negritas.

Tal vez me vea obligado a pedir disculpas de antemano por algunos aspectos y cabos sueltos que pueden surgir pero, puesto que es un ejercicio, me atrevo a insistir en que es un trabajo experimental. Sin más preámbulos , he aquí la historia (agradezco la colaboración de Bianca y Fernando).

Die Welt Gegen die "Emos"

Es war einmal, in einer sehr weiten Galaxie, seltsame Wesen, die sich "Emos" nannten. Diese "Wesen" konnten sich niemals auf etwas freuen, weil sie immer zu enge Hosen trugen. Jede Stunde dachten sie an sich selbst und sie weinten den ganzen Tag. Sie hatten keinen Mut weder zum Leben noch zum Selbstmord.
Eines Tages wurden die "Emos" von anderen Wesen, den Punks, angegriffen. Während dem Angriff zweifelten sie daran, ob sie wegfliehen sollten oder nur stehen bleiben, um zu weinen. Nach drei Minuten rotteten die Punks fast alle diese blöde Kinder aus. Da diese "Wesen" geschlechtlos waren, konnten sie sich nur durch Zweiteilung fortpflanzen. Doch sie hatten Angst auch davor. Von 3 Milliarden "Emos" überlebten nur 200.
Nach zwei Wochen organisierten diese Überlebenden eine "Emo-stration", in der sie gegen Vernichtung protestierten. Dort zeigten sie ihren Stolz auf ihre Frisuren. Trotzdem lachten die anderen Leuten über die. Als die "Emos" das bemerkt hatten, weinten sie immer mehr, zogen ihre Taschenmesser aus, sie schnitten sich ihre Venen, und sie fielen tot. Und es gab keine "Emos" mehr.
Und es ward schliesslich Frieden im Weltall.
FIN

The Aftermath of the Loss of Dreams

narcolepsy (plural narcolepsies)

1. (pathology) A disorder characterized by sudden and uncontrollable attacks of deep sleep, often brief, sometimes accompanied by paralysis and hallucinations

(Taken from Wiktionary)

En Macbeth (sílaba tónica en "-beth") el espectador puede conocer la abismal diferencia entre dormir y soñar. Si bien es normal pensar que ambas cosas van de la mano, esta creencia es errónea. Uno puede dormir y descansar, pero hay una enorme distancia entre el descanso y el sueño y, si no lo creen, soy el mejor ejemplo: la última vez que soñé fue hace tres años. Dicho sueño no es ahora mas que una imagen sorda cuyo tema se vuelve con el tiempo más difuso. Desafortunadamente, no sé cómo traducir la expresión "fade to gray", pues sería de gran ayuda en este momento.

Algunos especialistas dicen que todo el mundo sueña, aunque no recuerden al despertar. No obstante , esta conclusión no deja de ser más que una simple conjetura para mí, la cual, con los días , se vuelve cada vez más cuestionable. Uno puede reponerse del agotamiento físico con tiempo suficiente, pero la falta de sueños quizá provoque cansancio permanente.

Quizá la narcolepsia sería la mejor opción para soñar con más frecuencia.

"April is the cruelest month..."

Demonios!! El Sr. T.S. Eliot jamás se equivocaba, a pesar de escribir poesía basada en fragmentos --¡viva el pastiche!, a partir del siglo anterior, el arte consiste ahora en destruir un todo y reconstruirlo con sus propios pedazos; es como el synthpop que todos adoramos--.

Sí, abril es el mes más hijo de puta, aunque en este país no existe el cambio de estaciones como en otros más decentes. Quizá la única forma de saberlo es cuando hace más calor (primavera y verano) y cuando hace menos (quizá en invierno, aunque la diferencia es casi imperceptible). Sin embargo, una posible explicación es aquella aclaración que hizo el Sr. Colin White, pues México SÍ es un país tropical --todo aquél país que se encuentre entre el Trópico de Cancer y el de Capricornio... no creo tener que ser más claro. No obstante, hay mucha gente que dice que "diciembre es el mes más cruel, porque hace frío".

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