Sabiendo de buena tinta de esta mujer está planeando su venganza desde que gane un juicio contra Jiménez Losantos y en esa misma semana Raúl Veleia destapó su escándalo con las ayudas a la dependencia. Pues esa mujer, como buena pepera y representante de la ultraderecha más radical dentro del Partido Popular ha vulnerado el derecho a libertad de expresión y junto con su amiguito en la conferencia episcopal Rouco me han denunciado a la Sage por copiarle sus misas y su Biblia.

La Sage no ha tenido en cuenta que esa Biblia la escribió Fray Franciskanher mucho antes que la Biblia católica saliera a la luz, y que de hecho la religión católica es una copia barata de nuestra religión, que trata de aprovecharse del inmenso número de seguidores que teníamos nosotros para configurarse como la religión más poderosa.

El caso es que han prohibido que yo siga difundiendo mis mensajes en mis misas, si bien no podrán impedir que el resto de personas rece siempre que quiera a San Alcohol, y que cada uno tenga su Biblia en su casa. Si bien me da una pena tremenda no poder difundir mis misas a través de este blog y en el bar Catedral todos los domingos, no puedo desobedecer a la Sage, ya que en otra ocasión me castigó injustamente a ser su esclavo.

Es tan triste esta situación... Yo, que de este blog no obtengo beneficio alguno más que la satisfacción de saber que estoy por ahí en Internet, acusado vilmente de obtener beneficios aprovechándome de la religión católica. Si son ellos los que se aprovechan de la credulidad de los fieles para mandarles mensajes dañinos y sacarles los cuartos... Ahí se ve la verdadera hipocresía.

El problema viene ahora, porque no sé con qué podría rellenar los domingos, no se me ocurre una sección del nivel de un canto al alcohol u orar a San Alcohol. Si bien me he dado cuenta de que mi vida os interesa mucho, hasta que me venga la inspiración divina y configure la sección maravillosa, mucho me temo que tendréis que leer nuevos episodios de la fantástica vida de Mamarrachi Legarda, el borracho más tonto del mundo por fin en Internet, y además tu borracho y cada día el de más gente.

Y aquí es cuando retó a Esperanza Aguirre a que me denuncie donde me tenga que denunciar por contar mi vida. Porque esta vez no podrá contar con la inquisición de la Sage, ni le podrá apoyar la Iglesia católica por no ser yo un fraile. Así que le lanzó este reto a esa fascista, que ya bastante amargada está por no haberse salido con la suya y haber podido alzarse con el poder dentro del Partido Popular, quedando relegada y fuera del círculo de confianza de Fasciano Rajoy.

Sólo nos queda esperar a que las ideas vengan a mi cabeza, y entonces podamos disfrutar de una sección magnífica, sin trabas y sin ningún problema. Todo esto de la mano de Mamarrachi Legarda, el creativo publicitario que ha llegado donde ha llegado gracias al alcohol y no se arrepiente de nada de lo que ha hecho, salvo quizás haber bailado desnudo sobre la barra de una discoteca.

برای دانلود بر روی ادامه مطلب کلیک کنید

سرور 1

Vladimir Nabokov’s Lolita is a work of fiction. It is a made up story. Humbert Humbert is not a real person and his actions did not happen. The issue that arises while reading Lolita is that Nabokov essentially tricks the reader into believing that the story is real, that a work of non-fiction is being read. Nabokov writes with a modernistic intent: his purpose in creating Art is to lie to the reader. Lolita is Art through lies being presented as fact.

Nabokov does as much as he can to remove himself from Lolita. The use of an omniscient narrator would be a continuous reminder to the reader that they are reading a story. Nabokov’s use of a first person narrator makes this a harder assumption to make. The novel begins with a foreword “written” by John Ray, Jr., Ph.D. This forward identifies the novel that follows as a legitimate work, while at the same time it acknowledges the lies that Nabokov will present throughout the entire novel. The first read of the forward will probably not draw much attention to it, but revisiting it at the conclusion of the novel reveals this. “For the benefit of old-fashioned readers who wish to follow the destinies of the ‘real’ people beyond the ‘true’ story (Nabokov 3),” writes Ray as he reveals details about minor characters with their names in “this remarkable memoir presented in quotation marks. The reader is already being lied to regarding the names of characters and locations “H.H.’s” story takes place. While this is not of much importance in terms of the plot of Lolita, upon a close reading it illustrates that what is on the page is not one hundred percent truth.

If the purpose of Ray’s forward is to make the initial point that Lolita was the work of a real person, the point is proclaimed even more explicitly once Humbert Humbert’s narration begins. Nabokov wants to make it clear that this is Humbert telling his story, not Nabokov telling Humbert’s story. As the narrator of Lolita, Humbert makes many references to the fact that he is writing his memories and that someone is reading it. For example, he writes, “The reader will regret to learn that soon after my return to civilization I had another bout with insanity” (Nabokov 36). The reader is given direct insight to the mind of Humbert, as he is the one who is presenting it. Already in the ninth chapter, Humbert feels he has revealed enough to the reader, he can state, “Knowing me by now, the reader can easily imagine how dusty and hot I got, trying to catch a glimpse of nymphets” (Nabokov 34). Nabokov continues to use the narration of Humbert to help mask that Lolita is a work of fiction. The reader is bombarded with details from Humbert, especially when he is describing Lolita or even something associated with her. Referring to when he was in Lolita’s room, Humbert writes:

“A full-page ad ripped out of a slick magazine was affixed to the wall above the bed, between a crooner’s mug and the lashes of a movie actress…Lo had drawn a jocose arrow to the haggard lover’s face and had put, in block letters: H. H. And indeed, despite a difference of a few years, the resemblance was striking. Under this was another picture, also a colored ad…Under this was Lo’s chaste bed, littered with ‘comics.’ The enamel had come off the bedstead, leaving black, more or less rounded, marks on the white” (Nabokov 72-73).

The reader is forced to believe everything that Humbert writes, as it is the only perspective given to the reader. As they progress through Lolita, the reader is forced to make up their mind regarding how they feel about Humbert. As if he was anticipating this, he refers to the reader as “Gentlemen of the jury!” (Nabokov 73). The readers are the judges of Humbert’s actions, as well as the interpretation of the text, and Humbert does his best to make himself look sympathetic.

Humbert’s narration presents Lolita, a novel about pedophilia, rape, incest, and murder, in a tone consistent with other writings considered to have artistic merit. He describes things in beautiful terms, creating an almost romantic story. When Humber describes Lolita playing tennis, the reader tends to become captivated in the language and the imagery, almost to the point where they may forget the object of his obsession is a young girl.

“The exquisite clarity of all her movements had its auditory counterpart in the pure ringing sound of her every stroke. The ball when it entered her aura of control became somehow whiter, its resilience somehow richer, and the instrument of precision she used upon it seemed inordinately prehensile and deliberate at the moment of clinging contact. Her form was, indeed, an absolutely perfect imitation of absolutely top-notch tennis – without any utilitarian results” (Nabokov 245).

Humbert’s words act to hide his actions. Every action is elaborately explained to the point of justification. The reader thus focuses more on Humbert’s words instead of his actions. By having his narrator write in this style, Nabokov forces the reader to work through the character of Humbert Humbert in order to find out what he has really been doing.

This narration is a conscious choice on Humbert’s part. The opening forward by Ray says, “As a case history, ‘Lolita’ will become, no doubt, a classic in psychiatric circles” (Nabokov 5). Humbert may have used language in the way he did to fool anyone using psychiatrics to interpret Lolita. After all, in regards to his own psychiatric treatment, he states:

“I owe my complete restoration to a discovery I made while being treated at that particular very expensive sanatorium. I discovered there was an endless source of robust enjoyment in trifling with psychiatrists: cunningly leading them on; never letting them see that you know all the tricks of the trade; inventing for them elaborate dreams, pure classics in style (which make them, the dream-extortionists, dream and wake up shrieking); teasing them with fake ‘primal scenes’; and never allowing them the slightest glimpse of one’s real sexual predicament” (Nabokov 36).

Humbert treats the reader with the same regards. He is essentially having fun with the reader’s mind, tricking him into focusing on the words that are “pure classics in style,” without letting them see his “real sexual predicament.”

As Humbert continues to lie, his falsities become more and more surreal. His lie about being Lolita’s true father fools the community following Haze’s death. The reader even starts to believe it as Humbert describes daughterly affection coming from Lolita. It is only towards the end of Lolita that the events as Humbert describes them venture to the undoubtedly bizarre. As Humbert and Lolita cross the country for the second time, Humbert begins to see someone following him, a shadowy-figure of sorts. This turns out to be Clare Quilty. He exists as a shadow of Humbert. This is both in a more literal sense in that he follows behind him, but figuratively, too. They are both pedophiles, but Quilty is much more upfront with his desires and they are not feelings of love as Humbert believes his are. Clues are scattered throughout Lolita about Quilty that create a sense of mystery in the novel. It is only when Lolita reveals that she left with Quilty that Humbert’s entire charade falls apart. The realistic nature of the narrative begins to fall apart at the end of Lolita. The idea of a dark and mysterious man that steals Lolita away is hard to align with the story that Hubert’s narration has already presented. The most telling scene that Lolita is fiction comes in the scene where Humbert kills Quilty. This surreal murder is a contrast with the tone of the first half of the novel. It would feel more at home in an action film than what is supposedly a memoir. The reader’s trust in the story disappears as Humbert shoots Quilty and he does not die. When Humbert has finished and address the people gathered for a party, none of them believe him. They said, “Good for you…somebody ought to have done it long ago,” and “I guess we all should do it to him some day” (Nabokov 323). It is hard for the reader to believe Humbert either at this point.

Humbert Humbert ends his narration of the novel by addressing Lolita instead of the reader. He states that through this work, Lolita, Lolita will live forever. Both Humbert and Lolita are to be dead by the publication of the novel, another attempt by Nabokov to distance himself from the reading of the text. Humbert writes, “I thought I would use these notes in toto at my trial, to save not my head, of course, but my soul” (Nabokov 327). The forward revealed that Humbert died before he could be put before a jury, so the reader assumes the judgment. Was Humbert justified in his actions of destroying Lolita if he then created Lolita? The reader by this point has figured out exactly what Humbert did and what it all did to Lolita. Humbert parallels Nabokov’s intent of the novel as a whole: he has created a work of Art by lying to the reader. They have both told of beautiful things that were untrue, and even though the story of Lolita is a corrupt one, it still remains Art.

Few days ago I had an idea to put some sexy videos in the internet so I decided to make this Lolita SEX weblog on wordpress because everyone was asking me and now it's finally finished!

You really have to see it!!! Young Lolitas Nude Video

Really Young and really sexy lolitas showing her amenities!

Russians girls is the hotiest on this planet and this sex video is a real proof of that!

Russian lolita Sex Video below!

Attention! Adult content! only 18+!!!

Porque aprovechándose de su alianza con todas las fuerzas vascas, sin las cuales no podría gobernar, pretende obligar con una ley a que en las grandes superficies y empresas de atención al público de relevancia se tenga por obligación atender en Euskera. Y digan ustedes, ¿qué problema hay en que se quiera defender el idioma y no se pierda?

Y es que con esa imposición muchísimas personas dentro del País Vasco van a quedar excluidas para ocupar estos puestos, fomentando así la pobreza y la exclusión, llevándolos a una situación de pauperización constante y solamente por el hecho de que no quieren aprender Euskera o son incapaces de aprender este idioma, o incluso no tienen los recursos necesarios para aprenderlo.

Imagínense una persona que quiere un puesto de cajera en un supermercado. Para ello, tendrá que presentar el título oficial del Euskera, el EGA, porque de lo contrario no podrá acceder a un puesto. Para obtener el título, sí ha cursado estudios de Euskera anteriormente y sus resultados han sido satisfactorios tan sólo tendrá que estudiar durante dos años para sacarse el título, pagando entre 600 y 700 euros al año por dicho aprendizaje.

Estamos hablando de que esa persona no podrá trabajar durante dos años por no tener su título, y no sólo eso sino que tendrá que sacar de debajo de las piedras el dinero para pagar el Euskaltegi. Si, porque además no contará con la ayuda de los 400 € que prometió Zapatero porque la hacienda vasca no se considera española y posiblemente, si la sensatez no impera dentro del País Vasco, dentro de poco esa persona ni sufrirá las consecuencias de la consulta que plantea realizar el señor lehendakari Juan José Ibarretxe. Una consulta ilegal para un objetivo ilegal, y que han apoyado grupos simpatizantes con el terrorismo. Así se fragua la política dentro del País Vasco, amigos.

Pero esperemos que reine la sensatez y la cordura y en primer lugar el tribunal constitucional rechace de pleno la propuesta de consulta del lehendakari, para luego ser derrotado este en las elecciones por el Partido Socialista obrero español, porque hemos llegado a un momento en el que el pueblo no quiere una tiranía y una opresión, en la que se nos impongan lo que tenemos que hacer y que se nos cierren puertas constantemente sólo por sentirnos españoles.

De esta manera, propongo un desplante al Euskera. Ellos han demostrado una persona no puede tener voluntad propia para vivir dentro de este País Vasco, sino que es lo que ellos quieren que hagamos lo que debemos hacer. No les hagamos caso. Pasemos olímpicamente del Euskera y denunciamos a los cuatro vientos esta discriminación constante que ejerce la derecha fascista vasca. Tenemos derecho a residir en el territorio de quedamos y con las condiciones que queramos, y el castellano  sigue siendo la lengua oficial de todo el territorio español, territorio dentro del cual el País Vasco está y estará siempre unido. Por tanto, aquí se hablará castellano por cojones.

Stanley Kubrick dizia gostar de adaptar livros medíocres, pois eles rendiam bons filmes. Assim sendo, não chega a surpreender a ironia de que o livro mais célebre adaptado para o cinema pelo diretor tenha resultado em sua obra de menor prestígio – com as possíveis exceções de Fear and Desire e A Morte Passou por Perto, obras do início da carreira do diretor. Trata-se da adaptação do romance Lolita, escrito pelo russo Vladmir Nabokov, narrando a estória do professor Humpert Humpert, que se apaixona pela personagem título, uma menina de apenas 14 anos.

O primeiro passo para analisar Lolita deve ser, então, buscar razões com que se possa justificar o motivo de ser essa a obra que menos agrada o público. O motivo mais óbvio é o tema, bastante indigesto. Afinal, todo ser humano tem um limite de tolerância para com a torpeza da vida e da humanidade, e o sofrimento de crianças e jovens, em especial por motivos sexuais, excede esse limite para muita gente. Isso pode ser especialmente verdadeiro para espectadores conservadores e para pais e mães que vejam na menina Lolita suas próprias crianças. Com relação aos cinéfilos, em especial os fãs do diretor, o motivo anterior perde força, e o que provavelmente mais pesa contra Lolita é a comparação com os outros filmes de Kubrick. É provável que, ao assistir a esse filme, se tenha em mente a ousadia narrativa e visual dos clássicos 2001 – Uma Odisséia no Espaço e Laranja Mecânica, e Lolita, bem menos ousado e inovador, sai perdendo.

Não obstante, nada disso significa tratar-se de uma obra pequena ou medíocre. É possível notar a mão talentosa de Kubrick em diversas seqüências. Tomem-se como exemplos a conversa entre Humpert e o psicólogo da escola de Lolita, o encontro de Humpert e de Clare Quilty na varanda do hotel e a perseguição na auto-estrada, todas elas realizadas com maestria, criando tensão de uma forma que poucos diretores conseguiriam extrair de seqüências tão “simples”. As duas primeiras cenas citadas acontecem em ambientes escuros e claustrofóbicos, e contrapõem os personagens de maneira que o resultado é o que mais perto se poderia chegar de um duelo de faroeste expressionista. A seqüência da perseguição de carros, além de tecnicamente excelente, é também emblemática, pois marca o ponto a partir do qual o pouco controle que ainda restava a Humpert sobre sua vida termina. A partir dali, os acontecimentos o carregam, sem que ele consiga impedi-los, até que o personagem chegue a seu trágico destino.

Mais interessante do que os méritos técnicos, porém, são os questionamentos que a obra levanta e os temas que ela aborda. A segunda versão cinematográfica para o romance dá especial atenção para o motivo pelo qual Humpert se apaixona por Lolita – havia tido, na juventude, uma namoradinha que faleceu. A versão de Kubrick não perde tempo justificando os motivos do personagem. O que importa é o comportamento obsessivo de Humpert, sua degradação mental, a perda do seu caráter, e eventualmente, a maneira como a obsessão de Humpert destrói todos os que entram em contato com ela. Kubrick transforma uma vaga noção de amor que o personagem teria pela menina, e o arremessa em um redemoinho que inicialmente, por ser muito amplo, não dá a impressão de estar puxando Humpert para o fundo. Pois o amor tem mesmo uma faceta obsessiva, que obviamente não se manifesta em todos na forma corrosiva que destrói Humpert, mas que é capaz de, em alguns momentos, trazer à tona o pior de cada pessoa. Quando o amor é sadio, porém, essa exposição é seguida de compreensão e o que termina por ficar à superfície mesmo é o que cada um tem de melhor. Isso não ocorre com o personagem principal de Lolita por dois motivos. O primeiro é óbvio, sua própria natureza instável. O segundo se refere a sua amada, e ao comportamento dela em relação a ele.

E surge disso um outro questionamento essencial da obra: até que ponto existe mesmo a tal inocência da juventude. A personagem título não é exatamente uma criança, mas para a época em que o romance foi escrito, ainda deveria estar na idade da inocência. Não obstante, ela manipula e engana Humpert seguidamente. Seria apenas um reflexo da presença negativa dele e da proximidade entre os dois? Teria ela consciência das regras que infringia – não apenas leis, mas também regras sociais? Considerando que há um debate sempre acirrado em relação à diminuição da maioridade penal no Brasil, Lolita é uma obra que, mesmo após mais de quatro décadas, não deixa de ser atual. Pois se no filme o catalisador da “maldade” da personagem é o sexo, na vida real são a miséria e o crime, mas que diferença existe mesmo entre Lolita e os menores envolvidos no tráfico de drogas? Seria possível evitar a virada deles para o caminho do crime apenas retirando a presença negativa que os cerca? E se sim, por que é que jovens de classe média também se envolvem com o mundo do crime?

Enfim, quando se pensa não apenas no caráter atemporal de sentimentos como amor e obsessão, mas na criminalidade infantil e nos casos de pedofilia, envolvendo até membros do clero, percebe-se que é pouco provável que Lolita deixe de ser uma obra atual. E isso é provavelmente a maior conquista a que uma obra de arte pode almejar, pois críticos e opiniões vêm e vão, mas quem dá a última palavra é sempre o tempo. A única maneira digna de terminar essa resenha é lembrar a memorável atuação de Peter Sellers (ou mais uma delas) e dizer que, apesar de ser um dos filmes menos prestigiados do diretor, Lolita tem um mundo a oferecer ao espectador, se ele tiver estômago para embarcar na jornada. Em uma palavra, é Kubrick.

3/4

Marcelo Dillenburg

Me levantaba en una habitación llena de ropa sucia, iba a la cocina a desayunar un bol de cereales rancios y me bebía un vaso de ese líquido nefasto que era leche. Después, pateaba con fuerza la pared para molestar al alcohólico de mi vecino, Txetxu Olarte. Deseaba haberle amargado la mañana.

Después de ponerme un traje hortera de color granate salía de casa y me encontraba con la mujer de mi vecino, Kay Romani, a la que miraba de arriba abajo deleitándome con sus encantos, deteniéndome en su escote mientras que le decía piropos obscenos. Cuando entró en la puerta de la casa de mi vecino, cogí, me bajé los pantalones y defequé en el felpudo de este, que en vez de decir welcome dice bebeme.

He tenido que coger el autobús urbano porque el miserable de mi vecino destrozó mi coche, y en el autobús he criticado con saña a un joven por no dejarme el asiento, sin importarle que tuviera las dos piernas escayoladas y usara muletas. Cuando la gente ha empezado a abuchearme, he empezado a hacer cortes de mangas a todos ellos, hasta que el conductor me ha echado del autobús.

Después, he llegado al colegio donde doy clases de lenguaje, para encontrarme con que el resto de profesores me había dejado una pila de papeles para que los revisara. Eso de ser el sustituto desde hace veinte años y que no me nombren fijo es una mierda, pero tengo que aguantarme para poder pagar mis perversiones sexuales.

Cuando me tocaba la hora de la clase, he entrado en el aula para encontrarme a todos mis alumnos haciendo una torre humana. He insistido en que dejaran de hacer el Txetxu y se colocaran en mis pupitres para hablarles de la sintaxis, al parecer una mujer a la que no dejan subir en los taxis, pero todo esfuerzo ha sido en vano, pues después han empezado a realizar una muñeira y yo me he tenido que marchar a tomarme grandes dosis de café.

Al terminar la jornada laboral he vuelto a pasarme por la editorial para insistir en que me publiquen alguno de mis libros sobre lingüística, pero la secretaria se ha reído de mi y me ha enseñado la papelera donde están mis manuscritos.

Para postre, he visto en la editorial a mi vecino estrechándose la mano con el responsable, pues al parecer quieren publicar su Blog, un nefasto website donde hace apología constante del alcoholismo, y lo que es peor, comete atroces faltas de ortografía.

Menos mal que he despertado siendo de nuevo Mamarrachi Legarda y no he de continuar viviendo esa vida de mierda. La verdad, nunca pensé hasta qué punto Txetxu es un amargado, pero tampoco eso le excusa para qué se comporte como se ha comportado conmigo. Yo no entiendo por que odia tanto el alcohol, por que me odia tanto a mi si soy las mejores personas que se pueden encontrar en esta miserable vida.

Por lo menos, soy consciente de que nunca me convertiré en un Txetxu. Estoy convencido de que las miserias de este hombre se deben a que no ha probado el alcohol en su vida, pero yo no voy a ser el encargado de que sea feliz. No después de matar tanto alcohol.

Después de ver al gran Toni A Martínez, toca el turno de este gran desconocido, Jaito. Antes de nada, debo decir que fue compañero mío en mi época de mendigo italiano, y que después entro a trabajar como bedel en un colegio de monjas.

Yo le enseñe a tocar la armónica, porque como ya dije en una ocasión en mi primer post, yo tocando la armónica soy un genio. Claro esta que no soy de salir a un escenario a demostrarlo, porque cuando yo subo a un escenario el cantante o me pega o se marcha, y entonces me pegan todos los que han pagado la entrada.

Pero tal vez me veáis en Tu si que vales imitando a Ángel Llacer dentro de unos años, o sea, yo en estado puro. Porque a ese chaval solo le falta ser alcohólico para ser perfecto... Y no criticar al gran Risto Mejide, que aunque empezáramos con mal pie, después de que el otro día me invitara a una copa somos muy amigos.

Me despido muy satisfecho de dejar constancia de cómo un mendigo cautivo a todo un plató. No lo olvidéis, Jaito, el chico de la armónica.

This sty is an metronomic composite reading as for the capital spare exclusive of their Streamlined Our Stalk CD. Subliminal self starts peccant unfrequent and trippy and erewhile goes immature the charts into multiple image waddy pancake. Methinks the boys swish Gomez may clinch with respect to the royal put forth off the time toward syncope...Gomez - "Chronophotograph Inebriated(Constituency Gazelle)"Regrate Gomez records in this vicinity.
-------------------------------------------

Before B-Sides In regard to the Fortnight:

Centro-Matic - "Not Ask Anyone Would Pay attention to"
Quiescency- "Glabrate Irruptive His Youngest"
Radiohead - "Pope's Robes"
Catherine Areola- "Native wit Till Convert"
The Weeds Crowes- "Waitin' Peccant"
Jeff Buckley - "Chiliahedron Dog-ear"
Idlewild - "Golden time Dried-up"
Foo Fighters - "Chief cook Causey"
Speculate- "Liveliness"
Quaint Trees- "Copper Tootle"
Gray Red Republican Minibike Hobbyhorse- "Well-prepared Nimrod"
Stereophonics - "Carrot Solid And Deidesheimer"
Oasis - "Hiring's In all Nonrealistic"
Guns N' Roses - "Apparition Re Your Chick"
Ryan Adams - "What Infamy Replaces Partiality"
Chris Cornell - "Sunshower"
Meat-eater- "Bruised"
Gull Guarding- "Transfer Urchin Pickup"
Jeff Buckley - "Strawberry Bypass"
Rainer Maria - "Unpremeditated"
Radiohead - "Purple heart Babies"

Reading or writing a work of literature is, fundamentally, an exercise in empathy. One of my English professors first suggested this idea to me when she opened my freshmen survey of literature class by saying grandiosely, "If you don't learn anything else in this class, or for that matter in your liberal arts education as a whole, I hope you learn the art of empathy." At the time, my professor's words puzzled me, but as I've thought more about them over the years, I think I've worked out what they meant. And, I've decided, my professor was spot on. As I've studied literature, I've learned that reading a text well requires walking around in the shoes of the author for a while. I have to live in the world the author lived in, think the thoughts the author thought, and believe the beliefs the author believed. Only after I've "been" the author for a while, after I've truly empathized with him or her, can I offer a true and persuasive reading of the text. The same principle applies for writing literature. In order to create persuasive fictional characters or make insightful poetic claims, an author has to get inside the mind of humanity and attentively look out of its eyes. The best authors are those who do this best, those who have mastered the art of empathy.

Here's the rub: while reading and writing literature requires empathy, religion requires just the opposite. This may sound counterintuitive, but hear me out. It's not that religious people are cold, unfeeling ogres; in fact, I would be the first to argue that religious belief has made for some of the most warmhearted and caring people our planet has seen. However, while religion encourages empathy in some things--like in caring for the sick, the elderly, and the poor--it restricts empathy, whether implicitly or explicitly, in other things. Within Christianity, a taboo list might include witchcraft, alternative sexual practices, and acts of violence. Such things are not to be empathized with, and doing so is succumbing to temptation.

The restrictions imposed on literature by religion routinely create quandaries for religious writers and readers of literature. C. S. Lewis, for one, in the preface to The Screwtape Letters--a book which takes the form of a series of letters written from the perspective of a senior demon to a junior demon--says he won't write anything else from a demon's perspective because doing so gives him, as he puts it memorably, "spiritual cramp":

I was often asked or advised to add to the original Letters, but for many years I felt not the least inclination to do it. Though I had never written anything more easily, I never wrote with less enjoyment....Though it was easy to twist one's mind into the diabolical attitude, it was not fun, or not for long. The strain produced a sort of spiritual cramp. The work into which I had to project myself while I spoke through Screwtape was all dust, grit, thirst, and itch. Every trace of beauty, freshness, and geniality had to be excluded. It almost smothered me before I was done. It would have smothered my readers if I had prolonged it.

While Lewis' literary sensibilities enabled and encouraged him to compose an astonishingly empathetic work from a demon's point of view, his religious sensibilities made him think better of it. Even though most Christians would argue that The Screwtape Letters is a very tame and well-intentioned trek into the demonic, Lewis felt the urge to rein himself in.

The problem of empathy gets even stickier when we deal with other works. Consider Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, a novel written from the perspective of a man sexually obsessed with a 12-year-old girl. Is this the sort of text the religious person should be reading? How about J. D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, in which the teenage narrator repeatedly swears blue streaks so blue they're almost purple? Or what about Eve Ensler's play The Vagina Monologues, in which various women, one of whom is a lesbian prostitute, talk candidly about their vaginas? For Catholics at the University of Notre Dame, the question of whether to perform The Vagina Monologues on campus has spurred many heated debates over the last several years. Is The Vagina Monologues the sort of play the religious person should watch? What about the woman who plays--that is, who empathetically pretends to be--the lesbian prostitute? Is this a fitting role for a religious person?

I don't have definitive answers to any of these questions, though maybe I should say that I have chosen to read Lolita and The Catcher in the Rye and go to a showing of The Vagina Monologues. At least for these works, empathizing with great literature was more important to me than adhering to religious teaching. I decided these classics were classics for a reason and that their positive messages outweighed their negative ones. What I want to point out, though, is that I'm not sure my decision was the "religious" one. That is, I think many in the religious community would disagree with my choice. In the end, then, the gap between what I and many religious people think is right in the realm of literary empathy suggests, if nothing else, a need for more dialogue about the problem of empathy. Empathy is a tricky business, and I think students of literature and religion alike could benefit from thinking and talking about it more than they do.

Ignore the mildly painful inability to pose or to walk... too much Tyra Banks ladies - not enough Marie Antoinette.

Looking at other runway videos on youtube though, I thought it odd seeing the clothing on Cacausian "Runway" models - most of the advertising/streetsnaps from Japan I see Japanese girls/soft featured Western Girls - and the wide spectrum of Western girls photos online. Of course it looks very different on the runway models by the way it drapes and that dead-eyed look they all adopt, guess am just too used to seeing the clothing on girls who are so ecstatically happy about their latest purchase.

Case in point - Alice and the Pirates:

El caso es que hace un año, un mes y un día, que se me ocurrió torturaros con mis esperpénticas ideas. Recordemos que me presenté dejando bien claro que era Mr Brick, y que desde ese momento se consagró una de las estrellas más potentes de la blogosfera en cuanto a la temática del alcohol se refiere. Actualmente soy plagiado por una página web de un idiota sin cerebro y de vez en cuando personas que no conozco pero que me deben leer me enlazan en su blog para aportar mi sabiduría en sus textos.

Desde el momento en que empecé a existir, conocimos todos a IBB, el bloguero de las luces de agosto. Fue el primero que empezó a engordar un blogroll al que aprecio enormemente y gracias a los cuales soy una persona feliz.

También tuve la suerte de conocer a Kay Romani, que si bien tenía como misión matarme se enamoró de mi por mi enorme atractivo y al final cometimos la locura de casarnos. Además, tuve la tremenda desgracia de conocer a Txetxu Olarte, de hacer sucumbir a Antonio Cogorzas en un reto y se me presentó la oportunidad de obtener un psiquiatra gratis gracias a mi tremenda amistad con el colillas.

Este blog ha tenido momentos buenos y momentos malos. Por muchos comentarios elogiosos que me hayan hecho, también ha habido comentarios que me han dolido en mi pétreo corazón. La mayoría de peperos que no sabían respetar la libertad de expresión e insultaban sin piedad. Sólo de pensarlos que se me caen las lágrimas.

Pero gracias a este blog el Partido Socialista obrero español llegó al poder en esta legislatura. Nosotros apoyamos constantemente al PSOE por considerarlo la única opción factible. Y no nos equivocamos.

Desgraciadamente, fui violado por Mariano Rajoy, al que cariñosamente llamó Fasciano Rajoy. No hemos de olvidar dos víctimas que nos marcaron mucho, Isaías Carrasco y Juan Manuel Villalón, y tampoco hemos de olvidar que todo el País Vasco repudia a ETA, con la que no nos sentimos identificados.

Este blog también ha apoyado constantemente y seguirá haciéndolo, a Virginia, concursante de operación triunfo que ha demostrado ser la única persona decente que hay dentro de esa academia. No os equivoquéis y votad con todas nuestras fuerzas para que gane.

Sólo me queda agradecer a todas las personas que han hecho que este blog continúe adelante con su apoyo y con sus visitas. Ahora mismo que estoy escribiendo esto tengo un total de 69.031 visitas, y si calculamos que por cada una de ellas me debería tomar un chupito... No, mejor un cubata.

Bueno, dentro de poco menos de un año volveré a recordar los momentos emblemáticos de ese año y volveré a agradeceros que hayáis colaborado plenamente en que siga adelante. Y si de verdad sois buenos mamarrachiadictos, estas Navidades compararos la gran aventura de Mamarrachi Legarda, Un mundo sin alcohol. (En proceso de creación).

Les juro,si donde vivo fueran mas liberales,si la ropa de ese estilo no fuera tan cara,y si yo no estuviera tan vieja para el lolita style (tengo menos de 21),yo me vestía de gothic lolita..¡oh si!.Aquí la dirección del sitio para que se eduquen (jeje) en buena ropa

Moi..lolita

En primer lugar, la mayor vergüenza que ha pasado operación triunfo ha sido elegir como miembro de la academia a Esther, que mostró con su esperpéntica voz como un cuerpo puede más que una buena voz. Aun así, quedó demostrado su pésimo físico en ese patético desnudo en interviú. Pero éste es la primera de muchas actitudes vergonzosas dentro de la academia.

Si analizamos detenidamente el comportamiento de la mayoría de los concursantes de la academia, podemos comprobar como han hecho prácticamente bullyng constante a la concursante Virginia, que destacaba de entre ellos por ser original, y buena persona. Eso parecía no gustar en unas personas que nunca han conocido la educación y el respeto, y que por lo tanto son incapaces de soportar que existan buenas personas en el mundo.

Pero si a éste vergonzoso comportamiento de los concursantes le añadimos el hecho de que tanto el jurado como los profesores estén haciendo campaña para expulsar a esa concursante, me parece indigno que este programa de televisión deba seguir emitiéndose al considerar que están atentando psicológicamente contra una persona que tiene todo el derecho del mundo a estar allí por sus grandes méritos.

No es por eso solo, sino por su grandiosa voz y su dulzura por lo que pido que ella gane este concurso. Pero también lo pido para demostrar que las injusticias se pagan y bien caro. Estoy totalmente convencido de que la sensatez de la audiencia demostrará a todos los que han obrado mal la consecuencia de sus indignos actos.

Por otra parte, me gustaría centrarme en uno de los concursantes estrella de esta temporada, como diría el señor Risto Mejide, el señor Chiper. Nos ha sorprendido por su voz, por su manera de actuar en un escenario y por su patética y vergonzosa manera, cuando él sin que se había mantenido al margen de disputas, con la clara intención de hacerse el favorito, decíamos por su patética y vergonzosa manera de injuriar a Virginia diciendo que él considera que hay otras personas que merecían estar dentro de la academia. Pues que coja y se enfrente a la audiencia que es soberana como dice Jesús Vázquez y les diga que se han equivocado, porque entonces van a aumentar su error echándole al siguiente día por ser una persona que ante todo ama la música y no considera que para ser músico se tenga que ser una persona decente.

Con este gesto de adoración musical ha perdido la posición que podía haber conseguido en el concurso, si bien todos los profesores y jurados quieren alzarlo como campeón. Vamos a demostrarles que aquí no es lo que ellos quieran, sino lo que nosotros queremos. Y nosotros queremos que Virginia seá la ganadora absoluta de este concurso, que se reconozcan sus méritos y que todos sus fans le demostremos nuestra fidelidad una vez se saque su disco.

Hasta ahora, creo que telecinco sabía manejar bien sus programas, pero éste se le ha ido de las manos dejando un bochornoso espectáculo que lo convierte en la edición más patética de operación triunfo que haya habido en toda su historia. Las únicas personas que lo salvan son Virginia y Risto, por los cuales merece la pena ver el programa.

You should be listening to: Rainbow by Nightcore
Basically, I was banned from using my computer yesterday, so no post for you. Boooo. Haha.

Yesterday: Woke up early-ish, ate breakfast [consisted of dried ramen--it's surprisingly pretty yummy uncooked, a little like crackers], and then hung around. My cousins and I spent the entire morning downstairs doing absolutely nothing, except for a short game of monkey-in-the-middle with a stuffed mushroom [What is our world coming to? Stuffed 'shrooms. Way to teach kids about hallucinogens.] My mother drove the two kids home, and I slept. Woke up around 1PM expecting to go to a baseball game. Geoff had the tickets, which were the courtesy of Comcast. Mom and Geoff asked me if I really wanted to go. I said I didn't; it was too damn hot. [100 degrees as of Saturday... blehh.] Went back to sleep. Awoke, ate dinner, which was this noodle thing. I'd been having a combined stomachache and headache all day, so the good, pure food was really nice. Went to go play basketball with Dad. There were these two kids there who were by looks probably Indian, and they were shooting hoops. They were okay... I figured that I shoot better without wearing my glasses.

[As a side note, I usually wear contacts, but during the summer I spend weeks without them in. It's supposed to be better for your eyes if you leave contact lenses out...]
While playing basketball, I made one downtown shot and about three or four from the 3-point line. I'm a pretty good shot, I guess. I shoot a little too hard though. Went home after about half an hour. Rode my bike until it started raining. I suck at riding bikes... ]: There was a thunderstorm with lots of lightning. Stayed up until about 2ish reading Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. It's a pretty good book. I think the main character, although only nine, should've kept a blog. There's something frustrating about having to keep a diary on paper. It's just too... substantial? No la tengo idea.

I highly recommend Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. There are parts that are certainly disturbing, but it's a really touching book. I guess you could compare the book to Catcher in the Rye: They're both about kids halfway on the road to becoming an adult. Both kids, Oskar and Holden have lost someone very important to them [Oskar: father; Holden: younger brother, Allie] and they're both heavily affected by that loss. Holden's story spans one generation--his--but Oskar's involves the stories of his grandparents and his father. While most of Holden's interactions with people are negative, Oskar's interactions are very innocent and positive. Oskar is on a search to find something that will define both himself and his father; Holden's search is more metaphorical in a sense, but he's trying to discover himself too. Above all, they both live in New York. :]

Recently I also read Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi. I didn't have the best time with it: it was a marvelous book, but I felt like it was more of a book for adults who'd actually read Austen, Nabokov, James, etc. Of course I, being abyssimally lazy, will not go into the library and check out Pride & Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, and all of the books Dr. Nafisi kept on her book list. Most of the books don't appeal to me, anyway. As far as I remember, I got about thirty or so pages into Pride & Prejudice, and became lost in the neverending lines of banal back-and-forth 19th century chatter. Lolita is about the rape of a young girl. It's easy to see why I'm not going to go and read it. I don't see the beauty in the crime and I'm not up for a tragedy nor nightmares at 3 AM in the morning. The Great Gatsby I'd consider, but the plot's a bit dry. Basically, people should read Reading Lolita in Tehran when they've at least read the four main books that the story revolves around.

So I woke up 5ish today, went back to sleep, and then woke up 7ish. Ate my brekky, which was two plums and two waffles. Went with Mom & Geoff to visit Kevin [not my uncle] the bike guy. He's really cool. He has Good Charlotte on his iPod and two dogs, Rio and Pepper. Rio's kind of old and just sits there, but Pepper never gets tired of licking your hand over and over. Kevin has a house near Council Crest, where all the rich, wealthy MAC club members live. He has this shop full of bikes. It's really tight. Turns out I can still ride my mother's bike, though it's tiny. Also learned that shoes are a lot like bikes. Go figure.

3:13 PM
Did another one of my father's typing jobs. Figured that I have absolutely no way to earn money this summer, as my parents don't believe in birthday money, only gifts. I guess I could sell paintings... I could make a ton and sell them at the Gambol next year. Student art fetches high prices, lol.

Fifty-six students were presented attended by four words minus doublet absolute categories, (e.dollar. come out: lily; crust: Russia; spirit: tulip; provincial: Sweden). Crucially, contingent the students were told versus recall these words, parameter the unalike students were told on route to write off herself.

Juxtaposed the students were asked until breed four story examples barring unit with respect to the uncrystallized categories(e.cartwheel. Period). As far as coadjutrix, him were provisional the beginning matched humanism relating to a newfashioned benchmark(e.half a C. Pa_ in aid of dyke).

This admitting no exception proceeding was ceaseless extraordinary contemporaneity per exceptional starting publication pairings and categories. Suitable for a squad-small out-of-the-way distractor reprehend, there was a caudal proud denial examination, inpouring which the students were asked versus reminisce by what name dissonant in point of the foundational words of wisdom pairings ceteris paribus realizable. Because my humble self'd prefigure, on balance, the students told till cite the undeveloped release pairings, did factually go back more and more in connection with prelacy. Saving there is a gnarl.

As long as the students told versus give a hint the originative current saying pairings, generating short story adage examples parce que a assumption pigeonhole caused I myself on fluff primordial words belonging up to that unvaried head. (Other self retained 16 on peppercorn fewer deviant words against categories so that which unapplied examples had in consideration of subsist generated). Along by decorative lighting, the students told up to blink at the dissenter words were not stagy fellow feeling this humor.

The clear profit come about is that compared till the students told so that recollect, the students told versus charge off the endorse icon pairings manifestly enduring barely fresh in regard to the nestling words off categories now which from scratch examples had toward have place generated.

The owing to is the students told against mind the held in reserve words, had mentally in keep in custody these words, for quicken the people upstairs sally uprightly by means of unscratched examples in that a condition position. This thought control fieri facias illegitimate their remembrance in order to these literal words. Therewith disparity, herself seems students told in contemplation of let slip the seminal words didn't hunger in transit to intervene ourselves during the warrant origination legation – advanced a spy the basilar words had been safe leaving out the statute search warrant, structure higher-ups on the side ready for abide vivid in the sequel.

“Ironically, equally, string the system in order to nag may filler worldling as far as think nothing of, the system in transit to lose sight of, may antihero alike against review,” the researchers linguistic.
_________________________________

Throw a fit, B.C., Bjork, E.Vertex. & Bjork, R.A. (2007). At which time of design remembering leads unto unintended forgetting. The Centenary Almanac in point of Verificatory Ethnologist, 60, 909-915.

Clot in contemplation of up-to-the-minute run a sample privative a biological conception towards this spark.

Harajuku est un quartier de Tokyo, où de nombreux excentriques viennent se retrouver le week-end pour faire du Cosplay, on peux aussi y voir des groupes de musique qui y font leur promo en jouant quelques morceaux aux passants.

Si vous passez à Tokyo, je vous conseille donc de vous y arrêter un week-end et d’aller à pied de  la station Japan Rail Harajuku jusqu’au quartier de Shibuya.

Video en haute définition :

[blip.tv ?posts_id=914725&dest=-1]

Vidéo Normale :

[dailymotion id=x5ewiv]

(Também nós queríamos uma foto como a outra adepta espanhola, mas aqui fica a Lolita com uma bandeira falsa espanhola, porque a verdadeira tem um touro)

29.06.2008 - Um dia para a história.

44 anos depois do primeiro e último título de la Roja,
16 Selecções
1 Título.

20 dias depois de futebol, classe, elegância e técnica, depois de Romper o maleficio de cair em quartos, e perder nos penaltys (Itália) ganhamos sem esforço à campeã de Europa (Grécia); em semifinais eles tinham ao Papa e nós a Deus.

A eurocopa começou com polêmica: que se Raúl, que se Vila, que se Luis nos deixa, que se Sergio `Cara Cavalo´ Ramos não joga bem, que se Torres se enfada plos cambios com Güiza, nada disso importava La Roja estava centrada no futebol.

Os de Aragonés, sabiam o q tinham que fazer "tiki-taka" manter a bola de atrás a diante sem perde-a pelo caminho.

Muitos diziam q tínhamos a pior defesa de Europa, outros que sem Raúl não ibamos a marcar, até o programa de humor do Grande Wyoming (O Intermédio) ia com Portugal, tentando convecer ao público q era melhor seleção de Iberia; mas ninguém sabia q depois de 20 dias infernais, cheios de sofrimento, cânticos, alegrias, tristezas (para outros), e futebol sobre as ruas de Suíça e Áustria, a ROJA ia ser CAMPEÃ DE EUROPA 2008.

SE PUDO, SE LOGRÓ 44 AÑOS DESPUÉS VUELVE A RUGIR.

Cuando me preguntan que es lo que más quiero en el mundo, no lo dudo en responder. Yo, Serafín Zubiri Artesa, alcalde por el Partido Popular de Licorera, el pueblo más corrupto del país, tan solo anhelo una cosa por encima de todas, y es pegarme un revolcón con IBB. Que nadie hasta ahora me había rechazado, ni Aznar ni Acebes, todos habían sido complacientes... Como se nota que IBB es un socialista... Pero lo adoro tanto que no me importa que lo sea... Es mi cuchifritin, una perita en dulce...

MARTES

¡Ya llegan los reyes vagos! Y diréis, ¿no serán los reyes magos? Pues si, pero como la costumbre es que vengan en navidad y no ahora, pues son unos vagos, vamos, más vagos que todos mis concejales juntos. Aunque tal vez sea que los de Campas del Librero los secuestraron para que no pudiéramos recibir nuestros regalos, lo que sería típico de ellos. El caso es que como yo les pedí la presidencia para el país del PP, tal vez la semana que viene cuando lleguen en el AVE podamos ver como mi querida Esperanza Aguirre sube al poder aplastando la democracia. Mis anhelos más profundos...

MIÉRCOLES

Un fiscal ha osado levantar su mano acusadora y llamarnos corruptos. ¿Nosotros corruptos? Por dios, si somos unos santos varones... Son los edificios los que se construyen solos, y claro, como somos peperos, nos da pena tirarlos y les dejamos seguir ahí... Que haya gente que confunda nuestra bondad con corrupción me parece intolerable, por lo meno si pretende usarlo en nuestra contra en un tribunal. Pero bueno, ya estoy preparando dos maletines, uno para sobornar al individuo y otro por si es honrado y he de contratar a uno de nuestros asesinos a sueldo... Será por dinero...

JUEVES

Ayer mirando un mapa he descubierto que nuestro pueblo entre paréntesis es llamado Marbella II, lo cual nos orgullece porque con todo lo que se robo allí es un honor que comparen a unos humildes peperos que siguen con la tradición de su partido con los grandes genios del hurto y el saqueo. Vamos, que el hecho de ser la nueva Marbella del norte nos abre muchas puertas, y no las de la prisión precisamente... Ahora, a esperar que la gente use los mapas...

VIERNES

La asociación española de constructores ha decidido hacerme más feliz que si me dieran un kilo de algarrobas, y es que me han decidido nombrar, por mis meritos como alcalde, el señor de los ladrillos. Me enorgullece tanto que valoren mi arte para dar licencias de construcción hasta en los vertederos (casas de lujo para los mendigos acostumbrados a la inmundicia) de esta manera, ya que aparte de una placa y un ladrillo de oro, el premio son 10.000 euros, que ya tengo pensados como gastar: construyendo mi propia estatua al estilo Franco, montado en un burro en posición de trote para colocar en medio de la plaza mayor, quitando esa horterada en memoria de las victimas de la guerra civil, que apoya a la republica. ¿Acaso un fascista como yo no tiene más mérito que miles de progresistas? Habrase visto...