Journal II: God

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, October 31, 2010


Chére Simone,

Timely speaking, I just got back from another journey, cet fois, we went to God. Relax, I'm not a renewed man with a purpose and a cleansed mind. But for technicalities I can say I encountered God in my trip.

Being that said, and just to prolong the hype, I shall give you some context first. The voyage's main intention was having the voyageurs encounter themselves, and if possible, their raison d'être. To their bad chance, they were dealing with a penguin who spends too much time with himself, talking and discussing with all of his other selves. As for the raison d'être... well, that's a subject for a longer trip, I thought at least. (A trip i've been living and postponing at the same time, all the time)

Anyway, I knew I still had to found something, something lower than deep, that perhaps didn't lie at the bottom de moi même. Maybe, like most things that construct me, first I had to think it, then make it exist, so to finally feel it. Plus, I was willing to make an effort, those days I had too much of a gray sky above my head and a disgust for everything.

So, like I always do, I did things ma façon. Silence may be fine for those who can't almost hear the voices in their heads, but mine are bitching loud and clear. So, I spoke to them. I asked for advise and deep analysis of what was really wrong with me. What was I doing about life, and from that which aspects were the one failing? Anyway, the WhitePenguin, the ComfrontationPenguin and the CarePenguin had an agitated discussion of what was going on.

Given the confidentiality of the rendez-vous, I can't really get into detail, but know that their agreements were able to heal I'mthePenguin.

Having that done, now we had to find God, his amour infini, and how it affects us. You know my relationship with God has become better with time, but we weren't in those terms, neither did we planned to be. But again, for the exercise's sake I made an effort.

First I had to define why the concept of "the infinite love of God giving me strength" gave me the jivies. And it had something to do with the fact that I related it directly to the image of a mythological god that is almighty and creator. And let me tell you something, that's precisely the face of God I've had a very hard time dealing with, I dislike it not only because it is without logic, but it also defies rational thinking, as well as it gives people excuse for doing the most stupid things for the longest time. (if offended, close this blog and go read some more ancestral gibberish, fundamentalist).

Anyway, what needed to be done was to make a clear delimitation of the things I accepted about God, and the things I didn't. While I'm fully aware that it all comes in the same package, I think it's rather stupid to dismiss it all just because part of its content (and fallacious).

My definition of God was that it was a collective concept, inserted in the intangible strings of culture, and thus impregnated in any person connected to such network. This concept is so global and powerful that it really doesn't matter is such Universal entity as "GOD" exists, if it has such a power within society and the bases of culture, then it is as real as it gets because, and only because, all we ever do as humans nowadays are social constructions.

So, this huge construction plays a main role in all aspects of human history and relations. And most of the doctrines that study it, include a message of love, and ultimately achieving peace. Peace and love, I can relate to and accept, thus I can coexist with this dens fabric of cumulative anecdotes and ideas, called God.

And so, because of my definition of God, it can't have any power or scope outside the fabric of society, thus it is not a creator, it has no infinite power, and can certainly not end the world with a blink of an eye. So I had to make a partition of the mythic God and the spiritual-loving God. One is confined to myths, stories, and the most reactionary of moral systems. While the other is an ever changing stream of hope and benevolence to humans. (Still doubting the point of my partition?)

Anyway, this was what I already thought. The people guiding this journey to Godville were religious, and I associate them with the spiritual God. So, when imposed with the task of thinking of the "infinite love given to you by God" it was a clash of concepts. Why? Because no fabric of social constructions can possibly become tangent strength, or make you feel loved if it is a collective, yet independent collection of personal believes. Or at least so I thought.

Then they came to me, the various times when people confess giving up, and finding strength in prayer, and in the love of God. And also the huge efforts people do to give love and praise to an invisible entity, to feel a purpose, or something else. And so I thought, that this God network is not only present in the ideas of people, but also in their affections. (naturally their affections are within their ideas, but I didn't though the relation was so close.) People feel safe with this network of love, because it is there.

Now, I don't mean that A's prayers and love to God will transfer trough the air particles to B, because B feels lonely and sad. What I mean is that B has to develop a sort of "self-esteem" system for when B needs it. And this "self-esteem", meaning the love the person feels from God, can only be made with the assurance of this love network; which is normally constructed by the rituals and traditions suggested by various doctrines.

And so it made sense, and at last I was able to make peace with the religious aspect of the journey. It was at that moment when I found God, wandering the forests.


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , , | Posted on Saturday, October 30, 2010


This is somehow as we imagine it... but how?

Evolution through natural selection seemed so obvious, so understandable, clear and awesome. I even made (make) a strong judgment and criticism towards those who don't believe in evolution (don't ever let my philosophy prof. ever see I used the word believe, but you get my drill). I was told in class that evolution is a fact, as clear as that the earth spins around the sun, and I don’t argue that. I do believe in Dobzhansky’s statement “Nothing in Biology makes sense except in the light of evolution.” But the ‘How?’ is the one currently intriguing me deeply.

I find it both uncomfortable and beautiful that I’m having these types of questions whose answers are not to be found in textbooks, and that when I google them, I find parts of the answer in the latest issue of Science or Nature. I like talking to my friends about the confusion, the new ideas, the classes, etc. and doing our political speeches defending the existence of a class that we want to take (and are supposed to take) in 7th semester.

And I think about Darwin, Lamarck, Molecular Biology research, Epigenetics, Science and Nature, and science and nature. And I smile. :)

Autumn time

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, October 29, 2010


Sitting in an autumn bench, they observed the manipulated paper while chatting about the entities forming the universe. He talked about the 4th dimension and how we can perceive it in one only direction. She added that almost all social constructions are based on that fact: we only see time as a forward vector.

But to know physics, is to know that time is in "both" of the directions. Or at least that's what the normal science has told us so far. And so back to them, in their natural surrounding of dead leaves and blank stares, they proposed how would the world (by world meaning human existence) be if we could perceive time in both directions. Assuming of course uncertainty would have developed into humans in this hypothetical case.

"We'd see our birth and dead at the same time, and everything in between would be a group of independent events without memory, determined solely by chance"

"It would have to work as a perpetual infancy if we were supposed to live for some time, we'd be unconscious entities"

"Maybe we'd be kids at first... and when we finally became conscious... and grew up, in that same moment

"we would die" they both said at the same time looking at the realization in the face with fright. and curiosity.

Them they remained silent for an instant. Thinking, if maybe, we're delusional about not being able to percieve time in both directions. Maybe it's just an instant, in less than a second, and then it's gone.

Or is it all an independent event with no memory, but fake identities and sorrows?

Capturing something captured

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , , | Posted on Thursday, October 28, 2010


Does taking bad [i know 'bad' makes no difference, but i'm appealing to pity] pictures from videos count as photograph?

Dark rooms

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, October 27, 2010


Again, thinking about science and knowledge, and the philosophy behind it.

I'll be honest: I'm no philosopher. You caught me, clever fox. If I were maybe I could precise my thoughts about it, and maybe I'd know the book where all these ideas converge and I'd just tell you what to read.

But that's too hypothetical.
So, instead this:

Science, as the method of questioning and creating knowledge based on evidence, has been like finding strange objects in a dark room. Except many people would think that once you know an answer the whole room lights up, it doesn't. When you find an answer, and form a convincing theory of what is in that room, you only have that, a theory.

Then others will proceed to test such knowledge. If nobody finds an inconsistency, then the knowledge stays. But it doesn't mean that it is actually describing the whole phenomenon, or in this case object in the dark room; it only means nobody has yet found a different or more complete explanation.

Something like being blindfolded in an already dark room, and touching around stuff. There are some fluffy things, viscously rough walls, a vibrating wave of air and an tangible feeling you are going to fall any second. There, then you find the technique of semiotics and the resolution that everything is just a network of common thoughts, that or just the string theory. Who knows?
Actually it would be more like making some first assumptions, making inferences and making up the rest to explain you are in a cheap restaurant.

And here comes the importance of making a difference between covering a "map" of the whole room and all the findings and just turning on the lights. The maps may be accurate, but there's always something you probably missed. Now, I'm using light because we are a society based on visual references, but it is rather a silly metaphor for being able to look at the answers of everything with certainty.

It's not just for science, (although the way I see it is all science), in general we're all just feeling unknown entities in a dark room, trying to make sense of it.

Until someone finds an inconsistency.

A toast

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Tuesday, October 26, 2010


A toast: [inspired by La vie boheme lyric, and life]

Go with the flow,
fight for the unknown,
and cheers!
Dance as if no one were watching,
sing as if no one were listening,
and live every day as if it were your last.
To days of inspiration,
making something out of nothing,
to going insane, going mad.
To no absoultes, to Absoult
to choice.
To being an 'us' for once,
insted of a 'them'.
To apathy, to entropy,
to empathy, ecstasy

To life!

Let's not forget what is it all about

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Monday, October 25, 2010


" Finally, when we examine the normal science, we would like to describe this investigation like a tenacious and fervent attempt to force nature to enter into the conceptual frames provided by professional education"(T.S Khun 1962)

Should we see science as a cumulative compilation of knowledge that has grown through history? If so, wouldn't we be conceptualizing science as an entity build by history, with a sole destiny from the start? Would that be going against the very definition of science - ask, work and get rid of paradigms-?

In such case that we would only see past discoveries as myths believed by the undeveloped, we'd be discrediting observations and results that, in their time, were well structured science. Plus, by that same line of thought, we'd have to assume much of what we know today are still myths, for much more explanation to the universe and the entities that conform it is needed.

So, what's left?

Observing the periods of time in which some certain school of thought was believed in its own context, while intertwined with future investigation, stood on its own, as well made science. Only in that way could we learn properly about the history of science, and see it as an everlasting project that hasn't reached a limit or peak at this time.

Formal (normal) education insists on lecturing and describing this process as a cumulative sequence that has led to what we know today, when in reality science is not about an accumulation of knowledge, but a process of reasoning, asking questions and working to get reasonable answers, even if these defy established knowledge.

So, lately I've been reading T. S. Khun

Come on sister

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, October 24, 2010


And it's fun, thinking of you
Like a movie star
And it's dumb, thinking of you
Like the way that you were

You could love
After all that's what you're looking for
You can love
It's a currency unspoken of

Belle and Sebastian is back! :D
Come on sister, :D

La ciudá

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, October 23, 2010


La ciudá

El fulgor monstruoso de la ciudad...
Las luces que nunca mueren, los ruidos que vuelan libres
los colosos de concreto que se devoran ancho, largo y alto para todos lados, dando un falso sentido de suelo.
A veces habría que preguntarse si el cielo es el cielo o un ducto de ventilación.

Hermosos colores naturales de imprenta que rodean la ciudad de primavera
(temporada de compras)
arte urbano que amenaza con volverse violencia, fuera de contexto
violencia que amenaza con volverse artesanía, fuera de contexto
Y sueños empeñados para comprar una tele o dos, plasma de preferencia.

Si me preguntaran de los colores y matices de la ciudad respondería con un impavido: -gris.
Y esque no es solo el concreto, entre tanta gente y tanta no gente, ya no hay polos de lo que este bien o mal,
el sacaerdote? que porque es pederasta
el ladron? que porque hay desempelo y debe antener a su familia
el empresario? que porque crea más pobreza y desigualdad
o el estudiante? porque planea largarse a la fregada en cuanto pueda.

Y vamos, que no es solo un gris conceptual
Vea usted nada más a los bichos, todos son grises, negros, defenestrados o de nómica pública.
Y no es por sonar costumbrista, que eso me parece del siglo pasado y de mal gusto,
pero en el campo los bichos si parecen bichos, rojos, verdes, amarillos, brillantes y de ojos saltones.
En el campo el cielo es cielo y el suelo es tierra.
Pero bueno, el campo es campo y la ciudad ciudad. O eso dicen por ahí.

tampoco es de darselas de puro y natural al campo
que almenos la ciudad se sabe invasora, se sabe agena y por eso tiene identidad fraccionada
.O bueno, la identidad la tendrá la gente, y la no gente también.
Una identidad primitiva de lucha por el poder, supremacía del más gandalla y cabrón.
Aventuras del hominido que sabía vestirse (y a veces hablar) .

Pero en fin, que es la ciudad si no una salsa? de las sobras de la semana claro está.
Mezclas contrastantes y olores fumigantes, con sabor a sucio
a pero que buen sazon le da la mugrita ¿o no?


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, October 22, 2010


I've been sitting by the computer for two days, by my cell phone and even by the broken house phone.
The last conversation we had lasted 4 minutes, and in those 4 minutes you managed to do this to me.
And so I wait, and I ask myself things. I regret falling in love with a guy who hates computers and is therefore absent in all the facebook interaction, and I remember what you told me the other day: "Somehow I just can't text you, there's something wrong with your cell phone company." and I curse the cell phone company, and I also curse the phone company, because the phone has been broken for about a week, and aahh..!
And even thought you told me to call you, I can't. I'm afraid.
But above all, I'm trying to imagine what are you doing, and if perhaps you're also wating by your cell phone.
And I say to myself what I said last time I was drunk... "Pinche inseguridad..."


Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, October 21, 2010


It opens and I see my mind.

There I make an observation of my perception against others'. (my perception of others' perception). And I realize, I live my life trough my own narrator and commenting. As if the outside was just a narrative element to guide my thoughts, a mere decoration. I kind of realized that is what makes me not be able to live "at the moment".

Then I start thinking about shutting down that looking glass and living reality.

I get distracted by another thought.

My fantasies have changed with time. They used to be epic stories about ancient wizards who fought complicated evil beings who became more redeemable and real with time. Until they were just wizards having complex lives. Then it became more about imaginary scenarios for a real universe, but fictitious lives, full of love, hate, adventure and wonder.

Then the characters started having romantic interests. And everything went downhill. No more complex stories, no more strong independent characters, only whimpy romantics who would be tore apart by some ridiculous urban poem. P a t h e t i c.

Knowing I was living life trough imagination and having found the transfiguration suffered by my imagination disgusted me.

Then for some reason I can't really explain...>.> I had some sort of epiphany.
I don't belong, and actually I will never belong to some broken social scene of post-modern indie decadence. The sole fact I give it nomenclature makes me an unlikely candidate. I will never belong either to the post-punk creative scene, I lack the cool and the guts. And I won't be part of the stereotypic circus fauna. So where will I belong? Where can a 4-deviation individual belong?

"You look like you don't like it here"
"I admit here's not my endemic niche"
"Where then?"
"Good question"

Is it like that in the future?

Nerds with a strange charm

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , , | Posted on Wednesday, October 20, 2010


So effin nerd, that I think I can spare the explanation. xD

I think you would get it more than anyone. :)

Exquisite corpse: Corpse of a sickening song

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, October 19, 2010


Corpse of a sickening song (The iTunes experience)

I'm in a crisis, I need help
Come on mood shift, shift back to good again.
Feeling the comfort of eyes is your sole intention
We all want to be understood unconditionally.

Some days aren't yours at all,
They come and go
Just one more time
let me drown with you.
He told me a heart can't smile
if it's filled with tears.

If she weren't writing in blood
She'd bring him her jokes
You know my darling I can't stand to sleep alone
no sweetheart in the dark to call my own.

Look at the hottie in the tight jeans
Look at the pipe dreams
Lay me down.
Lay me down.
Don't give in

Don't give in.

Do you think everything, everyone, is going mental
It seems to me that it's spiraling out of control and it's inevitable.
Oh caught in a bad romance,
I want your everything as long as it's free.
I want you
I want you so bad.

I shoul've known that this would happen from the start
This kind of function's gonna have to fall apart.
She doesn't look, she doesn't see
Opens up for nobody.

My lover, I've been donating time to review
all the misinterpretations that define me and you.
Here they come, we panic, scream and run.
And please beware, they'll kill without care


(Any biased seeming content is mere uncertainty seen with a significant relation to a seemingly independent event, or in other words, coincidence.)

No, I don't listen to emo music...>.>

Lack of belief

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Monday, October 18, 2010


QualiaSoup again,

In philosophy class we talked about theism, atheism and agnostician...
and I didn't agree with the perspective taken in class, and it was due mainly to definitions...

Stumbled II

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, October 17, 2010


Taking my last post as a platform for self-redemption, I will do a post old style, showing you the wonders of StumbleUpon:

Don't Be Fooled

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Saturday, October 16, 2010


Because I love Grey's Anatomy, because I love music, and because I thought you would really love this song... here it is: :)

Don't be fooled by Walking Sleep

About creation and copying

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, October 15, 2010


The other day while in leisure, or should I say procrastination, I found out that the first blog was a journal of a man's journey into the wonders of the Internet. His incredible findings were left recorded in a website, for anyone to watch.

While he was not creating content per se, he was collecting pieces of his daily life and putting them together. The blog was a filter of all what he saw presented in a maybe unprecedented collection, he was showing the world the internet trough his little looking glass.

That got e thinking. Wasn't Einstein who said creativity was hiding well your sources? This meaning that all new creations were inspired, copied, cut, remade and recycled from previously existing ideas. To seem authentic we can only hope for people never find all the little pieces that made our final work.

But in the long run that's creating isn't it? Picking the little parts you see, choosing the ones you find appealing and giving them your own twist, your own insight. Isn't art just a projection of all of our observations put together and filtered trough our own little looking glasses?

Just a thought.

[But don't think for a second, Dearest Kite, that my mockery towards sub-rented creation will stop, what kind of insensitive prick would I be otherwise?]


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, October 14, 2010


this is just genius

[via: wickedpaedia ]

Lower than deep

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in , | Posted on Wednesday, October 13, 2010


Today's special feature



Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, October 12, 2010


I woke up today wanting to dance tango.
Like really dance tango, as in going to a class and everything. Although I don't really imagine myself dancing tango (if I saw my life as an expectator) I do want to feel like I'm dancing.
And I did what any normal girl would've done...
I saw some videos on youtube and convinced myself I could learn...
So, I don't know if I'll go to classes, but I want to.

Now more than ever I feel as a very strange poly-shake of tons of different things, which has turned up to be fun as hell, and hell. :)

Send my regards to grace and virtue!

Porcupine's dilemma

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Monday, October 11, 2010


The porcupine dilemma is an analogy about the challenges of human intimacy. It describes a situation in which a group of hedgehogs all seek to become close to one another in order to share their heat during cold weather. However, once accomplished, they cannot avoid hurting one another with their sharp quills. They must step away from one another. Though they all share the intention of a close reciprocal relationship, this may not occur for reasons which they cannot avoid.


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Sunday, October 10, 2010


Los títulos universitarios dan ingresos privilegiados cuando permiten excluir. Pierden esa "ventajea competitiva" cuando se multiplican los graduados. Para mantenerla, hay la tendencia a no quedarse en la licenciatura: sacar una maestría; y no quedarse en la maestría: sacar un doctorado; y no quedarse en el doctorado: hacer estudios posfoctorales. La esprial sin fin se genera por una contradicción insuperable. No se puede privilegiar a todos sin hacer que el privilegio deje de ser un privilegio. [...]Si el 100% de la población tuviera educación superior, todos tendrían esa ventaja: nadie la tendría.

ZAID, Gabriel; "La canasta costosa"; Letras Libres Agosto 2010

I read this, and, ouch. But it gave me a lot to think about....

Future dreams

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, October 09, 2010


Talking about growing up again my dearest Kite?

You got me thinking, about plans and futures. And naturally, uncertainty.

Two years ago the future looked like this:
College, important contacts, some causes, some friends, foreign exchange, masters application. Canada/Europe/Australia, bigger contacts, bigger causes, partners, partners, career. UNEP New York, big leagues. Big success. Life of glamour (sustainable glamour) in a big city, intellectual social circles with the obvious required snobs. Fulfillment, achievements, art. Books, back to universities and old age.

While not step by step, you get the general idea.

But then...
Then you find out what the world is really like. It's not the TV you watch, it is not the economic idea of AN "American Dream" which I'd rather call a "Neoliberalist dream". You realize there's perhaps no such thing as sustainable glamour, you notice that intentions alone won't do anything, nor important meetings in big buildings and suits. At least nos as they should.

You realize that your dreams, as well as the society who shaped them, has lost ground. And so you fall.

Now the future looks like this:

Perhaps someday I'll succeed in fooling myself into believing my -in the process of- forgotten dreams.

Maybe some day I'll be rich and have a big (green) house and give conferences, like Al Gore. Or maybe I won't succeed into such brainwash. Or maybe I'm just trough a phase... (it never is, should I know...)

Am I becoming one of those people I despised and mocked? Will I be one of those globalophobics? Is this the real face of decadent youth with lost causes?

I just know that now, I have to break the few left paradigms inside my social construction. I'm not sure what will be left, but you're invited to watch if you want.

Thanks aunt beer.
F* you


Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Friday, October 08, 2010


Sólo lanzo las palabras
Sólo lanzo las palabras, las palabras
Sólo pensé que somos nuestra historia y al revés
Tengo la arroba atragantada
Ya ves, son llaves
Y si crezco me convierto en Peter Punk
Si no me entiendes, no te entiendo, y al revés
A volar a volar Peter Punk
A. Sanz

Now, more than before, I think about growing up.
Are we up?
I remember talking about plans for the future, school activities about writing letter to your future self, and I now realize, perhaps, that I am now my future self from then.
Or maybe not.

I don't feel too different. Of course some things have changed a lot, but in the end I'm still that freshman naïve girl talking about revolution. Maybe more than a year ago.

That also got me thinking, in my nerdyness, that it is perhaps a trigonometric-periodical behaviour. Maybe being college freshman is not as different than being a highschool freshman, or at least I don't feel it that way.

So, well see... I'll try not to forget about this experiment, for once.

Puesta en escena

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, October 07, 2010


Tal vez era el olor a tráfico vespertino, o algo en el retumbar constante del esfalto, solo se que algo en ese puente se sentía extraño. No, más bien familiar. Se sentía como uno de esos lugares donde puedes tirarte al suelo, acurrucarte en una esquina y dejar la mente ir, uno de esos escondites que en la infancia llamaba hogar. No, hogar no es la palabra, pero no se me ocurre ninguna mejor. Lo que sucede es que en verdad no hay nadie, los pasajeros del puente peatonal son efímeros, son... pasajeros. Es uno de esos escondites a la vista de todos, ya que nadie nunca está en un puente, solo se pasa.

-Los puentes peatonales son lugares muy solos ¿no? Nunca nadie está de verdad aquí, solo se pasa- dijo mi voz mientras yo sostenía cables y unos audifonos

-Sube el volúmen para el efecto del tráfico- dijo el director sin soltar la cámara

-Pero los puentes te sirven para ir de un punto a otro, para avanzar- dijo iluminación volteando con todo y pantalla a la escena pero dirigiendose a mí, tratando de sonar tan casualmente profunda como mi altanero comentario; sin lograr más que sonar como Osho para la vida, o algo similar.

-Pero... no deja de estar solo- dijo producción mientras continuaba los planos de las siguientes tomas.

No pude evitar más que remitirme a lo que son los puentes y la vida. Uno solo pasa, su viaje es efímero, y pocas veces nos paramos a ver el tráfico de hoy, o el cielo, o los graffitis locales, o las ganas de saltar y salir de la jaula. Somos pasajeros, y estamos solos...

-Luces, audio, cámara... ACCIÓN-

Schrodinger, Heisenberg and hybridization

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, October 06, 2010


Thank you, fuck you.
Because I'm listening to awful music, to stupid lovely romatic songs.
and this... i mean this --> :3 can't be good!

I think, a part of me is so godamn happy, and another part is anxious, sad and something else... mixed with some salt for taste.

And we're talking about Schrodinger, Heisenberg and hybridization.
and I want to talk about cats, uncertainty and getting together.

and it's so... *sigh*

Of economy and environment

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, October 05, 2010


So, like, there's some poor people in the world.
Okay, more like a lot.
Like... almost half of it.

But anyway, because of economy and a simple principle of scarcity, there have always been people who have less, then came along economic systems like feudalism, monarchy, neoclassic, neoliberalism, and such ideas, which made inequity clear and very visible.

That being stated.
In time, after the second world war, the entire world changed. In every way possible, but let's focus on the economy: countries were bankrrupt. So, in order to help with the crisis the (new) UN made two organizations dedicated to avoid huge crisis like the great depression again, those were the World Bank (WB) and the International Monetary Fund (IMF).

The WB would help countries in their monetary policies and economic structures to make sure they were not going towards a depression or else that would cause the world some trouble (like wars, famine and such). The IMF was design as a "savings" account to lend money to those countries who needed it to recover from crisis or to have economic supremacy.
Sounds like a good idea right?

It was. Back in the 60s-70s the IMF was run by a league of humanitarian economists who were widely aware of the social costs of economic decisions, and so they acted upon that, and helped. (please notice how I'm being biased and only depicting this period as good so the turning point is dramatic, for straight facts consult further) But then the 80s kicked in with the neoliberalist fervor, and Reagan and Tatcher. And so the IMF was changed and filled with neoliberalists.

What happened? Well first of all, their main goal was to open all markets in the world, and those who were not free, make them so, however the cost. Now, let's remember that a free market doesn't always mean free and happy people, actually it meant the opposite for many countries. The previously communist countries were "forced" into open and liberal economies. It worked for east Asia, because they made it their own way. But for Russia, who was advised by the international organisms... well, it didn't went all that good.

Soon, the IMF became an international "bully" of the open market, forcing developing countries into them. How?
Developping countries needed money, the IMF and the WB had money. But you wouldn't see a penny from the IMF without having to follow every single of its instructions into an open market. Worst part of it was that no structural bases were made to assure safety nets for these countries, they were just thrown into the competition against the gigants (US and Europe), obviously the national industry could not compete against the international markets, which made them poor.

The last blow was the "hypocrecy" with which rich countries acted, because not only had they a greater infrastructure, but they still had subsides for their national markets, making it impossible for the developping countries to export or compete in that "open" market.

These actions made poor countries poorer and rich richer.
Just to make it clear.

In such terms of globalization what are the odds of ever reaching equity? Do we have a system to back us up?

Sadly, the answer is: not really.

Neoliberalism is a system based on a neoclassic system of economy, this means that economy is seen as a closed cycle. Labor market produces for industries and gets paid, Industries produce for the product market and gets paid by consumers, consumers are the base of the labor market. In this perfect scenario there are no limits for economic growth and expansion.
Infinite wealth, what could go wrong?

Just the tiny fact that these conditions don't see that it is not a closed cycle, they disregard the intake of resources from nature, the overexploitation. Neither they see the outtake of wastes and emissions into the environment that affects the resource source as well.

This system is completely over viewing the social and environmental costs, in a world with finite resources and where economy is USED to SERVE society to manage resources.

Anyway, I'd love to give a killer conclusion, but truth is that this is not an essay, but a purge of what I've been reading lately. Hence the lack of idea organization, don't think I've became so bad at wtirtnnig.

I might need some shocks...

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , , | Posted on Monday, October 04, 2010


Los locos somos otro cosmos.
Oscar de la Borbolla

Otto colocó los shocks. Rodolfo mostró los ojos con horror: dos globos rojos, torvos, con poco fósforo como bolsos fofos; combó los hombros, sollozó: "No doctor, no... loco no..." Sor Socorro lo frotó con yodo: "Pon flojos los codos -rogó-, ponlos como yo. Nosotros no somos ogros." Sor Flor tomó los mohosos polos color corcho ocroso; con gozo comprobó los shocks con los focos: los tronó, brotó polvo con ozono. Rodolfo oró, lloró con dolor: "No doctor Otto, shocks no..." Sor Socorro con monótono rostro colocó los pomos: ocho con formol, dos con bromo, otros con cloro. Rodolfo los nombró doctos, colosos, con dolorosos tonos los honró. Como no los colmó, los provocó: "Son sólo orcos, zorros, lobos. ¡Monos roñosos!" Sor Flor, con frondoso dorso, lo tomó por los hombros; sor Socorro lo coronó como robot con hosco gorro con plomos. Rodolfo con fogoso horror dobló los codos, forzó todos los poros, chocó con los pomos, los volcó; soltó tosco trompón, sor Socorro rodó como tronco. "¡Pronto, doctor Otto! -convocó sor Flor-. ¡Pronto con cloroformo! ¡Yo lo cojo!..." Rodolfo, lloroso con mocos, los confrontó como toro bronco; tomó rojo pomo, gordo como porrón. Sor Flor sonó como gong, rodó como trompo, zozobró.

Otto, solo con Rodolfo, rogó como follón, rogó con dolo: "Rodolfo... don Rodolfo, yo lo conozco... como doctor no gozo con los shocks; son lo forzoso. Los propongo con hondo dolor... Yo lloro por todos los locos, con shocks los compongo...

-No, doctor. No -sopló ronco Rodolfo-. Los shocks no son modos. Los locos no somos pollos. Los shocks son como hornos; son potros con motor, sonoros como coros o como cornos... No, doctor Otto, los shocks no son forzosos, son sólo poco costosos, son lo cómodo, lo no moroso, lo pronto... Doctor, los locos sólo somos otro cosmos, con otros otoños, con otro sol. No somos lo morboso; sólo somos lo otro, lo no ortodoxo. Otro horóscopo nos tocó, otro polvo nos formó los ojos, como formó los olmos o los osos o los chopos o los hongos. Todos somos colonos, sólo colonos. Nosotros somos los locos, otros son loros, otros, topos o zoólogos o, como vosotros, ontólogos. Yo no los compongo con shocks, no los troncho, no los rompo, no los normo...

Rodolfo monologó con honroso modo: probó, comprobó, cómo los locos sólo son lo otro. Otto, sordo como todo ortodoxo, no lo oyó, lo tomó por tonto; trocó todos los pros, los borró; sólo lo soportó por follón: obró con dolo. Rodolfo no lo notó. Otto rondó los pomos, tomó dos con cloroformo, como molotovs los botó. Rodolfo con los ojos rotos mostró los rojos hombros; notó poco dolor, borrosos los contornos, gordos los codos; flotó. Con horroroso torzón rodó con hondo sopor. Rodolfo soñó. Soñó con rocs, con blondos gnomos, con pomposos tronos, con pozos con oro, con foros boscosos con olorosos lotos. Todo lo tocó: los olmos con cocos, los conos con oporto rojo, los bongós con tonos como Fox Trot.

Otto lo forró con tosco cordón, lo sofocó. Rodolfo sólo roncó. Sor Socorro tornó con poco color. Sor Flor con bochorno tomó ron: "Oh, doctor -lloró-, oh, oh, nos dobló con sonoro trompón." Otto contó cómo lo controló.

-Otto, pospón los shocks -rogó sor Socorro.

-No, no los pospongo. Loco o no, yo lo jodo. No soporto los rollos... Pronto, ponlo con gorro.
-¿Cómo, doctor -notó sor Flor-, ocho volts?

-No, no sólo ocho. ¡Todos los volts! Yo no sólo drogo, yo domo... Lo domo o lo corrompo como bonzo.

-¡Oh no, doctor Otto!, como bonzo no.

-¡Cómo no, sor Socorro! Nosotros no somos tórtolos o mocosos; somos los doctos... ¡Ojo, sor Socorro! No soporto los complots...

Otto con morbo soltó todos los volts, los prolongó con gozo. Sor Socorro con sonrojo sollozó. Sor Flor oró por Rodolfo. Rodolfo roló como mono, tronó como mosco. Otto lo nombró: "Don gorgojo", "loco roñoso", "golfo". Rodolfo zozobró con sonso momo. Otto cortó los shocks.

[via: mexiqueculture]

Needed to ramble

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, October 03, 2010


More than a commentary post, or anything with actual content, this one's for when I look back and want to know how things were back then (now).

This ship has sailed, it is going places, but I don't know where. A world citizen once told me that there is no way of getting lost if you have no destiny. That's what keeps me from saying I'm lost. I don't know where I'm heading to, if it is the same crap, a great perhaps or god knows what. I only know it is not the same place I was.

I feel some strings breaking. I can see the downfall, but I can't seem to figure out the restructure.

The same old condition/situation/problem is... the same old thing. It makes you lonely, isolated and kind of a sham. Being so different makes life interesting I guess, but being so apart from everyone else gets you to a point where it is hard to relate to anyone. I guess I have much luck having found some weirdos in my path. I just wish there were more.


It is so ridiculous that I get sad about this crap, that I even think about it. Life's short and absurd. I should get out and conquer the world, or something. But my -for people- face is just so... insecure, so stupid and time wasting. It is ridiculous that I can see all these things, I can dissect all these phenomenons to their very core; I understand them. But I'm still just some insecure kid. Life's ridiculous, I should be living the decadent adventures of youth.

But I'm not shallow. To be me I must be... complicated. I don't do simple, I don't do easy going.

I could blame an inherited story of drama and such. But you know, I'm just rambling, not telling you about my entire life. Though, somehow I do.

I dream of the day when someone discovers these posts and elaborates a complex plan to get my attention and use this information to get closer. But I suppose that's the sickest thing I could say when rambling.

El doctorado no te quita lo pendejo, ni mucho menos el hábito de usar reglas de tres.

El departamento de diseño ignoró por completo mis silenciosas y discretas solicitudes de admisión, vamos que basicamente fue como si nunca me hubiera plantado ahí por una hora.



Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in , | Posted on Saturday, October 02, 2010


I'm sorry world,
but humanityis not using a tuxedo

might seem random, but it has an intresting story behind...

Youth's manifesto

Posted by I'm the penguin | Posted in | Posted on Friday, October 01, 2010


The youth's manifesto by I'm the penguin

We're all going to die tomorrow, or some other day.

We will fight to our deaths for the ideas and passions in our heads.

We see that which surrounds us and realize how it is viced, disorganized, the structure is rotten. With our words and steps we shall try to destroy the ancient monsters that assault our present, and with art, work and love we shall ignite our souls and change the world. or at least try to.

We don't owe anything to the system (yet) and from the ideological independence we shall rise from above the unidimensional structures and flood the world with revolutions, and voices and will.

We don't need food, we feed from beauty.
We don't need shelter, we are protected by our youth and energy.

We are an ever streaming force that can't be bought, robbed or polluted; and either as promise or threat, we conjure today that we shall be contained never more.

And so we prepare armies of dreams, new intentions and lost causes.
They can cut every flower, but they will never stop the spring

We are never to be hopeless, for we can't be irreparably broken.

I just hope, that in 20 years, I am not part of that which I fight against today