Probabil trebuia sa fac asta acum doua luni cand era la actualitate, dar mai bine mai tarziu decat niciodata.

Oricum, orice manifestare a inculturii romanesti este eterna si te inalta, stiind ca prin asta poate te diferentiezi de turma, daca te diferentiezi. Daca nu, asta e pentru tine.

Voi face un rezumat, pentru ca istoria nu ma pasioneaza.

Antena 1 si 3 a difuzat un spot in timpul alegerilor primarilor de anul acesta. Spotul avea ca slogan "Alege-ti stapanii cu grija" si infatisa o lume artificiala, lipsita de emotie, totalitara, cu un dictator ce urmeaza sa tina un discurs.

Aici e spotul:

Asta e pentru toti cei mai colorati la minte care nu l-au inteles, explicatia pentru gradinita:

Ascultati cu atentie bai!

Si acum, ploaia de "rahat":

Tovarasii de la CNA au interzis spotul. Scurt si la obiect, ce pana mea. Printre motivele enumerate de ei au fost si:

- este spot electoral si nu e difuzat cand trebuie

- este antisocial

- conduce catre ideea ca cel ales este stapanul nostru

- indiferent pe cine am alege, seamana cu cei 4 "in memoriam" de pe perete

- "problema este cea a asumarii. Cui apartine acest clip? Trebuie sa stim cine il realizeaza"

- si o mare problema sunt steagurile de culoare rosie, se pare ca

- ca e fascist

- ca e comunist

- ca e de rahat

Inainte ca sa ma pornesc, tin sa precizez: nu tin partea antenei 1/2/3, sincer nu favorizez televiunea in general. Sunt de parere ca CNA ar trebui sa cenzureze mult mai multe dintre porcariile care ne indobitocesc, si tin sa imi aduc condoleantele domnului Ralu Filip. Se pare ca a fost ultimul om cu cap de acolo.

Si acum, probabil asta e doar parerea mea, si daca e atunci imi pare foarte rau pentru creierele in moarte clinica ce bantuie aceste meleaguri.

Spotul nu este electoral, este politic.

Spotul nu este antisocial, este anti-socialism.

Spotul poate fi difuzat din 5 in 5 minute daca asta ajuta omul sa iasa din bezna in care e.

Spotul nu conduce catre ideea ca cel ales este stapanul nostru, ci spre idee ca CEL ALES SA NU DEVINA STAPANUL NOSTRU. Sincer, cand ma gandesc la stapani, imi vine in minte epoca sclavagismului. E clar un cuvant ales pentru ca sa socheze, sa atraga atentia spre o chestie mai generala a perioadei comuniste si post-comuniste, pe care multi nu o observa inca: oamenii percep presedintii ca si niste stapani. Altfel Basescu cadea la Referendum.

Fac o paranteza: la Referendum am votat impotriva preabunului. Acum, daca facem o suma a tuturor actiunilor preamaritului nost' presedinte, shai ca am avut dreptate? Simtiti-va, daca nu mai cititi un ziar, si apoi...

Indiferent pe cine am alege. Pai nu domnilor, tocmai. Oricine am alege, sa nu semene cu cei de pe perete.

Un pic de istorie: Existau portrete cu Lenin si Stalin, la fel expuse. Lenin - Tatal revolutiei in Rusia. Ce a urmat e direct responsabilitatea existentei acestui Lenin.

Si analog, sunt prezentate acele potrete ca si un premergator al situatiei curente din spot, cea de masa omogena de oameni cu creierele spalate ce venereaza actualul dictator.

Ce au in comun toate acele 4 personaje?

Inafara de terminatia -escu de la numele lor, toate au esuat in a elimina complet comunismul, ba mai mult l-au promovat sau favorizat in unele situatii.

Bunicul meu spunea: comunismul nu e un trecut, ci viitorul - parafrazare.

La care eu spuneam: daaaaaa, o p***!

Incep sa cred ca are dreptate, si nu pentru ca acesti comunism e mai bun, ci e mai puternic in mintile slabe si influente.

"problema este cea a asumarii. Cui apartine acest clip? Trebuie sa stim cine il realizeaza"

Nu domnilor, nu asta e problema. Asta e solutia. Clipul nu este electoral pentru ca nu promoveaza un canditat ci o idee, un argument. Ceva ce exista de obicei intr-o dezbatere politica, dar se pare ca nu suntem familiarizati cu asta. Si atunci: un argument e ashea daraba de cuvinte ce zace sheva pantru a sustine o ipoteza/concluzie. Ma rog, in dex scrie afirmatie.

Care e afirmatia? Alege-ti "stapanii" cu grija. Care e argumentul? Altfel dai de p***. Scurt.

Despre steagurile rosii, nu stiu ce sa zic. Mi se pare imbecil. Ma abtin. Steagul romaniei e 1/3 rosu. Precum si cele de la toreadori.

Acum, spotul nu poate fi si fascist si comunist si antisocial in acelasi timp. Nu? Si nici anti-socialism. Si atunci trebuie sa alegem.

Din moment ce nu exista nici o emblema comunista/fascista, si steagurile rosii erau folosite la amandoua si nu numai. Si din moment ce antisocial nu este, pentru ca nu exprima nimic condamnabil la adresa societatii, ci probabil numai la adresa "stapanilor", parerea mea ramane la anti-socialism. Si sincer, tot respectul.

Apoi, afirmatia ca spotul e de rahat...de rahat e altceva.

Bun, si cum am terminat de parcurs argumente contra, sa va spun de ce mi se pare cel mai tare spot pe care un roman il putea crea.

Pentru ca spre deosebire de toate spoturile cu "votati cutare ca face nushce" asta spune clar: griji pe cine votati pentru ca va ia dracu daca nu. E ca si cu spoturile cu grasimi, sare, zahar, alcool.

Pentru ca pana acum pe multiii deranja, dar foarte putini au spus-o cu voce tare. Traim in comunism si trebuie schimbat. La asta am fost contrazis odata, pentru ca "de la revolutie s-au schimbat multe". Ei bine tocmai pentru ca eu nu am trait in comunism si nu mi-am distrus creierii cu asa ceva, imi permit sa spun ca observ multe din aspectele acestuia in politica actuala. Si ce ma uimeste e ca sunt aspecte puternic ilustrate in diferite descrieri ale comunismului, aspecte evidente. Mici variatii care ar putea disparea, apar in mintile multora ce au trait pe vremea aceea si imi smulge un zambet fiecare la care nu le vad.

Spotul e un apel spre trezirea romanului indoctrinat, romanului obisnuit sa dea cu banul la alegeri si apoi sa se supuna celui ales. Parerea mea este ca referendumul trebuia sa invinga, si Basescu sa fie suspendat, si nu neaparat pentru ca Basescu nu favorizeaza Romania, ci pentru ca asta creea un precedent. Si astfel condusii ar fi avut un control mult mai puternic asupra conducatorului. Ar fi trait cu frica sa nu fie dat jos si poate si-ar fi indeplinit rolul. De aici metafora stapanilor.

Tot parerea mea este ca cei care nu au inteles mesajul, ar trebui trimisi in Siberia sa li se mai limpezeasca creierii. Traim intr-o tara democratica si omul de rand are puterea. Iar cei ce nu inteleg asta, nu au dreptul la portavoce.

Daca ar fi sa duc chestia asta in extreme, atunci as putea ataca cealalta masina neunsa a Romaniei: educatia. Sincer, in loc de prostiile alea de comentarii literare si cartile alea fara nici un duh, ar putea strecura spotul asta printre lectii. Sa faca copii - viitor al Romaniei, un comentariu literar (pentru ca se poate) asupra mesajului dedus din spot si poate, de ce nu, un text argumentativ. Ia sa vedem pana unde ii duce mintea pe copii, si pe profesori in acelasi timp. Probabil ar fi cea mai buna arma impotriva refularii instinctelor comuniste latente dobandite din mediul extrem de poluat al societatii noastre. Nu?

In cele din urma as vrea sa inchei precizand ca, postul meu nu este impotriva CNA, ci a celor ce impartasesc viziunea contrara ideilor mele. Va aduc multe insulte, si o trezire crunta la realitate: cat timp nu va pasa si va carati in strainatate ca sa scapati sau furati ca sa va distingeti de turma, va urez o viata de spalatori de buzi oriunde mergeti. Pentru ca din ast' motiv nu putem trai intr-un mediu social sanatos.

Iar celor ce sunt de acord cu mine, atata timp cat nu intelegeti si sunteti de acord din inertie, va urez acelasi lucru.

Buna dimineata, si o zi bestiala tuturor!

(Aviz!!! cei ce comenteaza contrazicand ce am zis fara o argumentare solida, vor avea comment-ul sters. Nu am chef de mari smecheri ce n-au nimic de zis. De asemenea, puteti injura, daca argumentati.)

PS: Imi cer scuze pentru postul lung, si multumesc tuturor care au ajuns pana aici cu cititul.

Urasc discutiile atat de frecvente in jurul meu despre modul in care trebuie sa facem sau sa intelegem un lucru.

As prefera ca oamenii sa se inteleaga fara sa mai treaca prin argumentatii si contraargumentatii. Nu-mi plac. Prefer sa imi vad de treaba mea decat sa stau de vb pana la dumnezeu.

Imi place filosofeala, dar nu cearta argumentativa.

Prefer sa vb despre valori si idei si convingeri si justificarea lor, sa vb despre lucruri care contribuie la dezvoltarea personala a omului, nu sa vb doar pt a explica niste lucruri pentru cazul oamenilor care gandesc cu rationalizari nu numai diferite dar si "insuficiente".

Eu cred ca oamenii ar tb sa fie mai responsabilizati cu faptul ca tb sa-si dezvolte capacitatea de a rationa, si asta nu pe seama acestor discutii continue despre care Sadoveanu ar zice "locul in care nu se intampla nimic".. le aud tot timpul in jur, toate cuplurile asta fac, isi negociaza termenii de referinta, pentru ca nu suntem inca suficienti de clari cu noi insine ca sa putem rationa cum trebuie. ..

Stii? de aceea occidentalii ne domina, pentru ca ei aceasta claritate este incubata deja, prin educatia si socializarea din tarile lor, si cand ne vad pe noi prostii, inferiorii, ca nu suntem in stare sa gandim logic sau nu suntem in stare sa percepem conotatii si denotatii ale unui lucru, act, sau notiune.. evident ca ei se simt si chiar sunt superiori, prin asta. Si ne domina, pentru ca animalitatea si lupta pt putere e aceeasi peste tot. Noi continuam sa stam sa umplem spatiul din jur argumentand de ce un traseu de metrou e mai scurt decat altul atunci cand vb la telefon cu iubita care ne asteapta acasa, de exemplu... in loc sa vorbim despre asteptare, si despre trairile implicate de aceasta asteptare.

That anti-social term that was coined to me by my newly-adopted-cuz-I-don't-have-a-damned-choice-friend "Miguel" is indeed an overstatement. 

I forgot already how many times he threw the word at me and it's getting into my spastic nerves and makes me wanna puke!  .... that’s a damned serious accusation.....!

Hmmm… okey, what does the term means anyway?

The English Thesaurus gave the word the following meaning: “…unsociable, unfriendly, disagreeable, shy, disruptive, rebellious, harmful, inconsiderable, selfish…” 

..hey, am none of those…not absolutely though. 

Okey, am shy at times, but definitely harmless and positively selfless. There’s no way either that I am unsociable… I would rather say, am cautious or a bit selective for practical and personal reason.

There may be times or as a rule of thumb, I don’t like wasting my time with nonsense talks – unless… am having a heck of a fun - or meeting and discussing topics with people that do not really interest me or I don’t have common ground with the other party, much less joining groups that I find to be having unreasonable causes or f*bleep*ing agenda..

You see Miguel, my dear accidental-friend, If I compel myself in establishing ally with people that I found to be not sharing the same interest or discussing stuff that I don’t really enjoy or me talking about things that they’re not interested in, do you really seriously think that we would click?   Much less, those people I find to be hideous?

Not that I don’t have a genuine interest in people, I do, juz that most of the people around us nowadays aren’t genuine enough to spark an interest. But that doesn’t mean that I am anti-social.  You see, if I am, why the hell am I establishing acquaintances and friendships with people I’m meeting during those tiring “moving-around”  who until now are actively keeping in touch?  Why do some people we know keeps on calling (pestering is the right term) and keeps on hanging around (to my hidden disgust).

I guess, the one thing that makes you feel that I am an anti-social is the visible “borderline” that I always draw on each people and whose size varies from person to person.  It’s what I call “private personal fences” that wards off unwanted entities from invading my private hidden hell.  I guess, most of us have it, juz so happen that mine is very visible.  Like you always say.. “true friends stabs you upfront, fake ones stabs you at your back”.

And juz as my buddy Morissey S. said "...why do I smile to people who I'd much rather kick in the eye...".

But for the record, I have several friends and countless acquaintances - that I would prove to be successful in a networking enterprise if ever I embark into one. And to be honest, I have some other factors that influences my belief about social limitations. 

For one, I want to maintain a certain degree of privacy… am sure Miguelito mi umpukito, that you know some of the reasons. Having said that, I assure you that I am certainly not an antisocial per se. 

You may say – I just have some degree of fussiness at a negligible level and it’s imbedded in my DNA commencing at the time of conception, yet, reasonable at that.

K.A.P.I.S.H

Related: Guess what?  She DOES have idle time enabled after all.  No, this is not paranoia, this is called proving a point.

Tomos 1 a 3 extraviados.

Tomo 4 Folio 232b:

            Sábado de pascua del año 1989, de nuestro señor, 23:38pm, acabé de terminar de ver  ``Porkis``en el súper cine de canal 5 me dispuse a dormir….

Domingo de pascua 9:38 AM, Adriancito!!!!!!, gritó mi madre, me desperté, ella me dice, ``anda de Mathias (elegante panadería de barrio, recomiendo los biscochos de chicharrón los domingos entre las 6 y 7 de la mañana, no antes, no después) lleva este numero que sortean un huevo enorme``, me vestí y me dirigí a la  panadería.

Llegué al lugar, mas de 70 personas esperando el sorteo, tenía el numero 67, me acomodé al lado de una sutil y distinguida señora mayor, vestida de elegante sobretodo beige y con un aroma avainillado, realmente encantador, me miró, me sonrió, y apretó mi cachete en un dulce gesto, le sonreí, por buena educación (odiaba demasiado que me pellizcaran los cachetes). Vi el objeto deseado, un huevo de pascua brillante, con una decoración propia de Marta Minujin, con un peso de 25kg aproximadamente, pensé, ``tengo chocolate para toda una semana…``

Comienza el sorteo, el panadero saca el número 73, segundos de silencio en el salón, la distinguida señora de al lado mió gritó: ``NO ESTA,  SAQUE OTRO!!!`` , pensé, ``como sabe esta señora tan rápido que no esta el dueño de ese número, que raro…``. Saca otro numero, el  31, la misma señora ya sin espera y con varias voces acompañantes gritaron ``NO ESTA!!!!  SAQUE OTRO``, pensé, ``aha ya entendí como es la cosa``. Saca otro ticket con el numero cuarenta y…(no lo dejé terminar) y  grité con mi voz, bastante  aguda en esa época ,``NO ESTA SEÑOR!!! SAQUE OTRO!!!!, de pronto sentí una  mirada de cruel odio sobre mi, era la distinguida dama, había ganado ella, tan enorme premio...,  tenia el 45.

Me retiré,  muy abatido, levanté mis pantalones de las tres tiras, colorado, con el elástico un tanto gastado, busqué una piedrita y la llevé pateando unas cuadras…solo veía mis Niké feraldis y aquella piedra, recordé, que esa tarde jugaba Central contra Español, una alegría para mi, pero también recordé que no jugaba mi ídolo David Carlos Nazareno Bisconti, lesionado,  era algo en los gemelos… y pensé, ``Dios llévame en este momento, que mas me puede pasar hoy!!``

Fin del folio 232b.

Luego de muchos años comprendí, cuanto me ha servido, ese gran aprendizaje, que aquella distinguida señora, dejó en mi.

Gracias por su atención.

Los nombres han sido alterados para seguridad de los protagonistas.

"Yo no soy como todas las minas, no me río de cualquier cosa que decís, yo pienso"
"Yo no soy como todas las minas, no me vas a llevar a la cama con cualquier boludez que me digas, asi que ni te gastes"
"Claro, a los hombres les gustan las ligeras de casco (?), las que no piensan, las boluditas, yo no soy asi"

Bueno, sepan que son como todas las minas, ¿o a caso se creen que alguna mina quiere ser como las otras? No, son todas iguales en querer ser distintas (?)

Igual igual que todas, nada más que más rompebolas....

Más música para casamientoooos.....  cumbia nena (?)

De esta manera justificaba el pago de tan caro aperitivo que valia mas como acto de inclusión social que como tentenpié.-

A todo esto, unos guachos hijos de puta estaban entrando a mi casa para robarme!

Asi es, dos caco mal cagado entraron violentando la puerta del patio y me revolvieron todo... HIJOS DE MIL PUTA!!!

EDDS hace un llamado a la  reflexión y olicita se solidarisen con esta causa...

Durante todo el mes de JULIO estaremos en la esquina de Avellaneda y French pateando la cabeza de cualquier pendejo que tenga pinta de Caco. Súmese ud. tambien![gallery]

Por ahi aparece una foto copada en alguno, de alguna minita que parece como si insinuarse mostrar una teta (?), pero una en millones...

Encima están escritos para el orto, firmados peor aun...

Ciérrenlos a todos..

Hello. Recognise me? No? Well, you see me all the time. You read my books, watch me on the big screen, feast on my art, cheer at my games, use my inventions, vote me into office, follow me into battle, take notes at my lectures, laugh at my jokes, marvel at my successes, admire my appearance, listen to my stories, discuss my politics, enjoy my music, excuse my faults, envy me my blessings. No? Still doesn't ring a bell? Well, you have seen me. Of that I am positive. In fact, if there is one thing I am absolutely sure of, it is that. You have seen me.

Perhaps our paths crossed more privately. Perhaps I am the one who came along and built you up when you were down, employed you when you needed a job, showed the way when you were lost, offered confidence when you were doubting, made you laugh when you were blue, sparked your interest when you were bored, listened to you and understood, saw you for what you really are, felt your pain and found the answers, made you want to be alive. Of course you recognise me. I am your inspiration, your role model, your saviour, your leader, your best friend, the one you aspire to emulate, the one whose favour makes you glow.

But I can also be your worst nightmare. First I build you up because that's what you need. Your skies are blue. Then, out of the blue, I start tearing you down. You let me do it because that's what you are used to. You are dumfounded. But I was wrong to take pity on you. You really ARE incompetent, disrespectful, untrustworthy, immoral, ignorant, inept, egotistical, constrained, disgusting. You are a social embarrassment, an unappreciative partner, an inadequate parent, a disappointment, a sexual flop, a financial liability.

I tell you this to your face. I must. It is my right, because it is. I behave, at home and away, in any way I want to, with total disregard for conventions, mores, or the feelings of others. It is my right, because it is. I lie to your face, without a twitch or a twitter, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. In fact, my lies are not lies at all. They are the truth, my truth. And you believe them, because you do, because they do not sound or feel like lies, because to do otherwise would make you question your own sanity, which you have a tendency to do anyway, because from the very beginning of our relationship you placed your trust and hopes in me, derived your energy, direction, stability, and confidence from me and from your association with me. So what's the problem if the safe haven I provide comes with a price? Surely I am worth it and then some.

Run to our friends. Go. See what that will get you. Ridicule. People believe what they see and what they see is the same wonderful me that you also saw and still do. What they also see is the very mixed up person that you have obviously become. The more you plead for understanding, the more convinced they are that the crazy one is you, the more isolated you feel, and the harder you try to make things right again, not by changing me but by accepting my criticisms and by striving to improve yourself. Could it be that you were wrong about me in the beginning? So wrong as that? How do you think our friends will react if you insist that they are also wrong about me? After all, they know that it really is you who have thwarted my progress, tainted my reputation, and thrown me off course.

I disappoint you? Outrageous! You are the one who have disappointed me. Look at all the frustrations you cause me. Lucky for you, I have an escape from all this, and fortunately my reputation provides enough insulation from the outside world so I can indulge in this escape with impunity. What escape? Why, those eruptions of rage you dread and fear. Ah, it feels so good to rage. It is the expression of and the confirmation of my power over you, my absolute superiority. Lying feels good too, for the same reason, but nothing compares to the pleasure of exploding for no material reason and venting my anger with total abandon, all the time a spectator at my own show and at your helplessness, pain, fear, frustration, and dependence.

In fact my raging is precisely what allows me to stay with you. Go ahead. Tell our friends about it. See if they can imagine what it's like, let alone believe it. The more outrageous the things you say about me, the more convinced they are that it is you who have taken a turn for the worse. And don't expect much more from your therapist either. You may tell him this or that, but what he sees when I visit him is something quite different. So what's the therapist to believe? After all, it was you who came for help. No! That's what this is all about. No! That simple two-letter word that, regardless of how bad I am, you simply cannot say. Who knows? You might even acquire some of my behaviour yourself.

But you know what? This may come as a shock, but I can also be my own worst nightmare. I can and I am. You see, at heart my life is nothing more than illusion-clad confusion. I have no idea why I do what I do, nor do I care to find out. In fact, the mere notion of asking the question is so repulsive to me that I employ all of my resources to repel it. I reconstruct facts, fabricate illusions, act them out, and thus create my own reality. It is a precarious state of existence indeed, so I am careful to include enough demonstrable truth in my illusions to ensure their credibility. And I am forever testing that credibility on you and on the reactions of others.

Fortunately my real attributes and accomplishments are in sufficient abundance to fuel my illusions seemingly forever. And modern society, blessed/cursed modern society, values most what I do best and thus serves as my accomplice. Even I get lost in my own illusions, swept away by my own magic.

So, not to worry if you still do not recognise me. I don't recognise me either. In fact, I am not really sure who I am. That's probably a question you never ask of yourself. Yet I wonder about it all the time. Perhaps I am not too different from everyone else, just better. After all, that's the feedback I get. My admirers certainly wish they were  me. They just don't have the gifts I have, nor the courage I have to express them. That's what the universe is telling me.

Then again THE universe or MY universe? As long as the magic of my illusions works on me too, there really is no need for distinction. All I need is an abundant fan club to stay on top of it all. So I am constantly taking fan club inventory, testing the loyalty of present members with challenges of abuse, writing off defectors with total indifference, and scouting the landscape for new recruits. Do you see my dilemma? I use people who are dependent on me to keep my illusions alive. So really it is I who am dependent on them.

Even the rage, that orgasmic release of pain and anger, works better with an audience. On some level I am aware of my illusions, but to admit that would spoil the magic. And that I couldn't bear. So I proclaim that what I do is of no consequence and no different from what others do, and thus I create an illusion about my creating illusions.

So, no, I don't recognise me any better than you do. I wouldn't dare. Like my fans, I marvel at my own being. Then again, sometimes I wish that I were not the person I am. You find that confusing? How do you think it makes me feel? I need my own magic to stay afloat. Sometimes others like me recruit me into their magic. But that's ok. As long as we feed off of each other, who's the worse for wear? It only confirms my illusion about my illusions: that I am no different from most other people, just a bit better.

But I AM different and we both know it, although neither one of us dares to admit it. Therein lies the root of my hostility. I tear you down because in reality I am envious of you BECAUSE I am different. At some haunting level I see my magic for what it is and realise that people around me function just fine WITHOUT any "magic".

(continued below)

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This terrifies me. Panic stricken, I try all my old tricks: displays of my talents, unnecessary deceptions, self-serving distortions, skilful seductions, ludicrous projections, frightening rages, whatever. Normally, that works. But if it fails, watch out. Like a solar-powered battery in darkness, my fire goes out and I cease to exist. Destitution sets in.

That is the key to understanding me. Most people strive for goals and feel good when they approach them. They move toward something positive. I move in the same direction but my movement is away from something negative. That's why I never stop, am never content, no matter what I achieve. That negative thing seems to follow me around like a shadow. I dowse myself in light and it fades, but that's all it does. Exhausted, I ultimately succumb to it, again and again.

Where did it come from, this negativity? Probably from before I learned to talk. When you were exploring your world for the first time, with the usual little toddler mishaps, your mother kept a careful eye on you, intervened when she saw you heading for danger, and comforted you when you made a mistake, even if you cried.

Well, that's not how it was for me. My mother's expectations of me were much higher. Mistakes were mistakes and crying was not the way to get her approval. That required being perfect, so that's exactly what I became. Not the little awkward toddler that I was, but my mother's model child. Not the brave and curious little person that I really was, but the fearful personification of my mother's ideal.

What you were experiencing through your little mishaps and mistakes were small doses of shame. What you were learning from your quick recoveries was shame repair. At first your mother did most of the repairing. Through repetition, you gradually learned how to do it by yourself. Shame repair brain circuitry was being laid down that would carry you for the rest of your life. I had no such luck. I simply did not acquire that skill when nature had intended my brain to acquire it. No one enjoys shame. But most people can deal with it. Not me. I fear it the way most people fear snakes.

How many others like me are there? More than you might think, and our numbers are increasing. Take twenty people off the street and you will find one whose mind ticks so much like mine that you could consider us clones. Impossible, you say. It is simply not possible for that many people – highly accomplished, respected, and visible people – to be out there replacing reality with illusions, each in the same way and for reasons they know not. It is simply not possible for so many shame-phobic robots of havoc and chaos, as I describe myself, to function daily midst other educated, intelligent, and experienced individuals, and pass for normal. It is simply not possible for such an aberration of human cognition and behaviour to infiltrate and infect the population in such numbers, virtually undetected by the radar of mental health professionals. It is simply not possible for so much visible positive to contain so much concealed negative. It is simply not possible.

But it is. That is the enlightenment of "Narcissism Revisited" by Sam Vaknin. Sam is himself one such clone. What distinguishes him is his uncharacteristic courage to confront, and his uncanny understanding of, that which makes us tick, himself included. Not only does Sam dare ask and then answer the question we clones avoid like the plague, he does so with relentless, laser-like precision. Read his book. Take your seat at the double-headed microscope and let Sam guide you through the dissection.

Like a brain surgeon operating on himself, Sam explores and exposes the alien among us, hoping beyond hope for a resectable tumour but finding instead each and every cell teeming with the same resistant virus. The operation is long and tedious, and at times frightening and hard to believe. Read on. The parts exposed are as they are, despite what may seem hyperbolic or farfetched. Their validity might not hit home until later, when coupled with memories of past events and experiences.

I am, as I said, my own worst nightmare. True, the world is replete with my contributions, and I am lots of fun to be around. And true, most contributions like mine are not the result of troubled souls. But many more than you might want to believe are. And if by chance you get caught in my web, I can make your life a living hell. But remember this. I am in that web too. The difference between you and me is that you can get out. 

Ken Heilbrunn, M.D.

Seattle, Washington, USA

ksbrunn@aol.com

It's not something that's totally unreasonable, though. It's rare that I find someone as into video games as I am. Plus, she's very well educated, which doesn't necessarily translate into intelligence, but it's promising. And she's antisocial, like me. Obviously over the last few posts I've listed quite a few other things that I look for in a mate, and I don't know one way or another if she's a perfect fit, but the things she writes and the way she writes them makes things look like she might.  I'm hopeful, but I need to work on managing my expectations.

Anyway, keep your fingers crossed for me.

Oh, and I think I might have been overreacting yesterday when I thought my bipolar symptoms might be coming back. I haven't had any more flare-ups in the last couple days and I'm feeling good without feeling crazy, so I think it was just some kind of hormonal thing...or maybe too much caffeine.

touch AND(go)

Te encontrás con un amigo que hace un par de años que no ves, y después de contarte alguna que otra boludez (o no) sale la frase, monumento a la hipocresía "che, tenemos que hacer algo, nos tenemos que juntar algún día"....

Frase al pedo como tirar una piedra al río (?). La posta sería "che, que bueno que te encontré, porque me quiero juntar con vos, mirá, el sábado venite para mi casa, avisale a los amigos y vengansé", ponele*

Bueno, los dejo por ahora, y tenemos que hacer algo che, que no se corte (?)

( * )"Ponele" by reina momo

Why?

Half the time Twitter's web page can't log me in, or won't load. Twitterrific times itself out and can't process any more tweets, and Twitbin just freezes in the "loading tweets" mode. Some days my txt tweets don't even make it into my active tweet time line. Twhirl seems to be Twitter's only saving grace right now as far as reliability goes, but I'll get to that in a moment.

So one of my questions this morning was; why Tweet at all if it isn't time accurate and you have to load 3 different clients just to get a Tweet through to your time line? My answer to myself was of course, you don't Tweet, you just occasionally go on and watch everyone else do it. And this, in a round about way, is why I dislike social networking and internet based social groups as a whole.

I spent time this morning reading about different Mac/OSX based apps for Twitter, especially those built on the Adobe Air platform. I was ready and set to install Snitter, Tweetr, and Twhirl (for Mac) until I realized that when each application asked for the "ok" from me, to have their program installed on my computer and I either had to hit the "cancel" or "install" button on the screen where it lists the; Publisher, Application, and System Access, 2 out of 3 of my downloads showed "Unknown Publisher" and "System Access : Unrestricted."

Basically that means that; "the publisher of the application cannot be determined, and that the application may access your file system and the internet: which may put your computer at risk."

Screen shots of each of the "Install" windows for those three Twitter clients:

Twhirl:

Snitter:

Tweetr:

I haven't installed any of the three. Probably because I'm paranoid. It's like the disclaimers that are listed at the beginning of everything now; Do you even take the time to read them? Or do you just hit "I Agree and Accept" and get on with it.

I take the time and read those, and sometimes I do disagree.

Es más, hay tanta plata para repartir que el único conflicto es ese, quien se queda con esa bocha de guita...

O me equivoco?

(bue, prometo que es el último post politizado, al menos por mi parte, me cansé)

Aquél número que supiera colgar orgulloso de la espalda del gran Batigol, de Abel Eduardo Balbo, Mario Alberto Kempes. Hasta aceptaría a un Hernán Jorge Crespo. Hoy brilla por su ausencia. Sí, si, ya se que la lleva Agüero, y mis respetos por ese gran jugador. Pero saben a qué me refiero. Al fútbol se juega con 9 Basile, no podemos ser ofensivos, no podemos meter goles, no podemos ganar sin un 9. Y no me vengas con Cruz, no me hagas inventos que esto es la selección, no es boca, ni racing ni colón.  Acá no se piensa la derrota como posibilidad. Te vamos a ir a buscar basile, y te vamos a enseñar a jugar al fútbol.
Le podes meter el dedo en el orto a mi abuela, pero ni se te ocurra perder con brasil. Sabemos donde vas de trolas viejo putanero, con EDDS no se jode.

This trait should already be developed during the childhood days. What if the said child did not receive enough compassion? Instead he received physical, emotional, verbal neglect and abuse? Would they be able to show compassion when they become adults?

Judging from my experience, NO. I was disappointed time and time again when I tried to express genuine compassion to another human being and at the same time expecting them to reciprocate that which I have given. I had the stupid notion that when I give something that is personal and dear to me, people would give it back to me. Those experiences further killed the little compassion that I have left. Now, it has been replaced with contempt and happiness when another person is suffering.

Power, the only thing that matters to me and the only thing that will matter to me from now on, is the only thing that is keeping me alive and my reason to keep on living. I have learned not to commit to anyone and make decisions based on emotions.

To get compassion from someone is also a powerful way to manipulate someone. I almost fell for that trap but I manage to control myself. I now have realized that anyone can betray you once you give them enough power over you. I managed to scheme something from my beautiful mind and I just waited for the right moment to strike. 10 months of scheming has come to fruit and I manage to do the exact same thing she did to me but at a greater intensity and it was compressed in one single day. In one fell swoop I destroyed any control she had on me, imposed that I was intellectually superior and killed of the any chance of reconciliation. Up to now she is not aware of what really happened.

A week ago, I just saw her account on friendster and she is now suffering loneliness. Instead of being compassionate, I just expressed contempt and I laughed really hard. I was practicing the power plays of history. Because of my thirst for revenge and the small amount of compassion, I managed to pull of a 10 month long revenge plan to get back at someone who betrayed me.

Every time I am rejected and betrayed, I just grow stronger and stronger. Quoting Frederich Neitzche "That which does not kill you make you stronger".

A long time ago, I decided to have a meaningful life instead of choosing a happy life. I have to remember the past and look forward to the future. This presented a problem for me, I would have no happiness. But Frederich Neitzche presented me another quote, "Happiness is the feeling of increasing power and the overcoming of obstacles". I now derive my happiness from power.

Compassion for me is just another tool to manipulate people.

Ella: Edgar, deberías de ampliar tu circulo de amistades…
Yo: ¿Qué?... ¿Aumentar mi circulo de amistades? Ja! (rio)
Ella: “Si, aumentar tu numero de amistades”
Yo: Ilusa... Yo tengo un circulo muy grande de amistades.
Ella: ¿300 personas en linea en tu MSN?
Yo: 46... no a todos los tengo con admición
ella: ...
Yo: Demonios! (pienso)
Ella: Necesitas hacer nuevos amigos, necesitas conocer gente, necesitas platicar con alguien.
Yo: ¿Platicar?.. ¿Platicar?... Yo no platico, al menos no sin conexión al msn. Por algo son soy Antisocial.

Ella: Edgar, no es tan difícil, simplemente presentante con alguien, intenta escuchar todo lo que te digan y responder algo apropiado..

Yo: … ¿Con que fin?

Ella: Mierda Edgar mira que eres el peor pendejo que he conocido. Uno trata de ayudarte y tu simplemente te encierras en tu mundito de computadoras y tecnología.

Yo: ...No es cierto, respondo. También me gusta masturbarme en el baño …
Ella: ¬¬ Enfermo

Yo: ¿Qué?. Ahora que dije?..

Ella: Me voy, Piénsalo bien. O anótalo en tu recordatorio de la pc.

Yo: hija de puta (pienso) me conoce tan bien.
Ok, lo tendré en cuenta (Recorriendo Recordatorio a la papelera de reciclaje)

Ella: Conociéndote, lo borraras y lo mandaras a la papelera
…
Yo: Puta!, puta! Y mas puta!... (vuelvo a pensar) Ok. Carajo lo tomaré en cuenta.

Y como no se otra manera de buscar amigos (Lo cual no lo hago por mi, si no por esa Puta!..)

Le escribo a usted, amable lector:

¿QUIERE SER MI AMIGO DE CARNE Y HUESO?

P.d no se aceptan invitaciones de Sonico ni de Facebook ni mucho menos de Hi5.
en verdad busco un amigo... aun que sea para pasar el rato

El japonés Tohiro Kato es un enfermo homicida en una depresiva. ¿Qué hizo? embistió con su automóvil a un grupo de personas que estaban en la calle en la ciudad de en Akihabara, Tokio. Luego del choque, el atacante se bajó del automóvil y apuñaló a las personas que habían sobrevivido. El japonés anunció, según reportaron en las noticias, desde hace una semana en Internet su intención de matar a gente y explicó la mecánica que utilizaría.

El mundo está realmente jodido. Lo preocupante es que un asesino como estos puede caminar sin problemas por la calle y vivir en sociedad sin que nadie se percate de su locura. Tal parece que la gente se ha olvidado de que hay rasgos de anormalidad que nos indican que hay gente enferma. ¿Es acaso esto un reflejo de la pérdida de lazos en la sociedad? ¿Es un reflejo de una sociedad sumida en la asociabilidad?

Hasta los animales son capaces de distinguir instintivamente cuando una amenaza se aproxima. Este caso es igual al del alemán loco, no puedo aún creer que haya vivido en un área residencial sin que nadie se percatara de su locura.

Tears in my pillows,

Para leer más sobre este caso: ¿por qué ocurrió la matanza de Tokio? - La vanguardia.es

Tengo un billete de 2 y uno de 100, un problemón, no podés hacer una mierda, nadie tiene cambio, mínimo tenes que comprar algo de 30 mangos para que te cambien 100, y con los otros 2 mangos no hacés nada.

Kioskeros, tacheros, almaceneros, diarieros... todos putos (?) busquen cambio, o cierren.

(otra cena con goyo para el primero que comente "ehh.. vos porque tenés plata... yo soy pobre, y no tengo tanta.... " no se hagan los giles, cerdos capitalistas)

The SOB said he was tired of life, but instead of doing the usual "honorable thing" he drove a rental truck into a crowd of pedestrians at the crowded Tokyo shopping street in Akihabara, before walking down the street stabbing people.

"I came to Akihabara to kill people," the attacker as told police. "I am tired of the world. Anyone was OK. I came alone."

Police and ambulance officers conduct an investigation along a street in Tokyo's Akihabara shopping and amusement district June 8, 2008. REUTERS/Issei Kato [Image may be subject to copyright. See Fair use Notice!]

"The man jumped on top of a man he had hit with his vehicle and stabbed him with a knife many times," Kyodo quoted a 19-year-old witness as saying. "Walking toward Akihabara Station, he slashed nearby people at random."

A Tokyo police spokesman said at least seven people had been killed and 12 wounded.

Witnesses said the rampage ended when an armed policeman confronted the man, who was yelling as he slashed the passers by.

"The rampage came on the seventh anniversary of a massacre at a Japanese primary school, when a knife-wielding janitor and former mental patient killed eight schoolchildren. He was later executed for the killings." Reuters reported.

Victims of a Dysfunctional Society?

Related Links:

• Fruits of a Repressed Culture
• A Culture of Bullying

• Time to OBLITERATE the Prefectural Boards of Education?

• The Deliberate Dumbing Down of Japan!
• Prefectural Boards of Education - Part 3
• Japan’s Boards of Education - Part 2

• Learning Japanese: Vasectomy of the Fertile Mind
• Do Not Speak English in Japan!

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2.- que hagan ruido pegandole a una mesa o zapateando. con deseperacion.

3.- que se paren atras de mi mientras trabjo y se pongan como a vigilar.

4.- que me interrumpan cuando estoy hablando.

5.- que siempre crean que saben de lo que uno esta hbalando y se  metan en los temas que no les importa, y que es posible que no sepan tanto como uno.