<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217</id><updated>2009-10-12T17:45:26.454-07:00</updated><title type='text'>el espino y la mata</title><subtitle type='html'>blog donde se cuenta lo que ahi se dice, y algunas cosas mas</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>19</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-1241227575977555619</id><published>2009-05-11T01:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T01:50:26.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>La palabra, el puño y el puñal</title><content type='html'>La fatwa que pesa sobre el escritor inglés Salman Rushdie cumplió 20 años el mes de febrero. En numerosos diarios en el mundo la conmemoración fue motivo para reiterar el repudio al barbarismo fundamentalista y celebrar el respeto liberal por el intercambio desinhibido de opiniones. Fue también pasto para el ejercicio retórico: a pesar del asedio del fanatismo religioso, se dijo, los fundamentos de la libertad de expresión permanecen incólumes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Es una pena que el paisaje del fundamentalismo musulmán y sus excesos se haya convertido en el trasfondo de la apología de la palabra. El contraste entre los dos mundos (el radicalismo islámico y el paraíso liberal) tiende a producir defensas alicortas y poco imaginativas, que al final terminan asentadas en dogmas. “La libertad de expresión es valiosa porque la alternativa es la tiranía teológica o la igualmente tirana corrección política”. Ésa parece ser la moneda corriente en un sector de la opinión pública internacional, incluida la mexicana, lo cual entraña una notable paradoja: una libertad cuyas apologías más lúcidas subrayan el poder del libre discurso para quebrar los caparazones dogmáticos termina parapetada tras una muralla de dogmas grandilocuentes pero huecos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texto completo: http://www.nexos.com.mx/?P=leerarticulo&amp;Article=379&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-1241227575977555619?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/1241227575977555619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=1241227575977555619' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1241227575977555619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1241227575977555619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2009/05/la-palabra-el-puno-y-el-punal.html' title='La palabra, el puño y el puñal'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-6771280342442612612</id><published>2008-03-10T15:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:54.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>por la censura</title><content type='html'>un futuro sin musulmanes ni extranjeros: alemania para los alemanes. &lt;br /&gt;que alguien le extienda inmunidad "pseudoliberal" a la publicidad del movimiento ciudadano por munich. yo la quemaria toda, sin cargo liberal de conciencia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R9W2Y9e5R1I/AAAAAAAAABM/kII8AFh0eS0/s1600-h/imgESP5025_foto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R9W2Y9e5R1I/AAAAAAAAABM/kII8AFh0eS0/s400/imgESP5025_foto.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176243886669514578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-6771280342442612612?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/6771280342442612612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=6771280342442612612' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6771280342442612612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6771280342442612612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2008/03/por-la-censura.html' title='por la censura'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R9W2Y9e5R1I/AAAAAAAAABM/kII8AFh0eS0/s72-c/imgESP5025_foto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-6329352613278365939</id><published>2008-02-25T16:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:54.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'>como vivir bajo el techo (ma)(pa)terno sin privaciones sexuales</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R8NhOklJbSI/AAAAAAAAABE/bZjO7-JqJv8/s1600-h/0,1020,1106367,00.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R8NhOklJbSI/AAAAAAAAABE/bZjO7-JqJv8/s400/0,1020,1106367,00.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171083700117007650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-6329352613278365939?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/6329352613278365939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=6329352613278365939' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6329352613278365939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6329352613278365939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2008/02/como-vivir-bajo-el-techo-mapaterno-sin.html' title='como vivir bajo el techo (ma)(pa)terno sin privaciones sexuales'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R8NhOklJbSI/AAAAAAAAABE/bZjO7-JqJv8/s72-c/0,1020,1106367,00.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-6308266360608791806</id><published>2007-11-14T16:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:54.781-08:00</updated><title type='text'>las dos gibas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R0oeTzwKUAI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nJ4bjh_BZNs/s1600-h/camello.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R0oeTzwKUAI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nJ4bjh_BZNs/s400/camello.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136951650628030466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;los camellos son animales enigmaticos. yo nunca he podido clasificarlos. no se decir si son creaturas confiables o desleales; mansas e inofensivas o broncas y peligrosas; bobas o taimadas; arrogantes y algo soberbias o humildes y hasta depresivas; misticas o pedestres.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dos referencias literarias contribuyen a iluminar un par de los rasgos fundamentales de la personalidad de nuestro merodeador desertico: su proclividad a la depresion y su celo apocaliptico. esas son las dos gibas temperamentales del camello.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cortazar cuenta la historia de guk, rumiante inolvidable, victima del asedio social que lo declara "indeseable". el perfil de guk nos revela la hondura y la complejidad de la psique del camello, depresivo por naturaleza y vocacion. las propiedades de la "camellidad" son dificiles de discernir, pero la depresion es sin dudad una de ellas. Por eso lo ultimo que hay que decirle a un camello es que es un animal non grato, so peligro de causarle gran pena y posteriormente la muerte. que el consejo no caiga en oidos sordos: todos, a fin de cuentas, llevamos un camello dentro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;escribe cortazar:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aceptan todas las solicitudes de paso de frontera, pero Guk, camello, inesperadamente declarado indeseable. Acude Guk a la central de policía donde le dicen nada que hacer, vuélvete a tu oasis, declarado indeseable inútil tramitar solicitud. Tristeza de Guk, retorno a las tierras de infancia. Y los camellos de familia, y los amigos, rodeándolo y que te pasa, y no es posible, por que precisamente tú. Entonces una delegación al Ministerio de Tránsito a apelar por Guk, con escándalo de funcionarios de carrera: esto no se ha visto jamas, ustedes se vuelven inmediatamente al oasis, se hará un sumario.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guk en el oasis come pasto un día, pasto otro día. Todos los camellos han pasado la frontera, Guk sigue esperando. Así se van el verano, el otoño. Luego Guk de vuelta a la ciudad, parado en una plaza vacía. Muy fotografiado por turistas, contestando reportajes. Vago prestigio de Guk en la plaza. Aprovechando busca salir, en la puerta todo cambia: declarado indeseable. Guk baja la cabeza, busca los ralos pastitos de la plaza. Un día lo llaman por el altavoz y entra feliz en la central. Allí es declarado indeseable. Guk vuelve al oasis y se acuesta. Come un poco de pasto, y después apoya el hocico en la arena. Va cerrando los ojos mientras se pone el sol. De su nariz brota una burbuja que dura un segundo mas que él."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;¿y que del halito apocaliptico que rodea al camello? digamos lo que dice mark strand, quien captura el animo (&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the animus?&lt;/span&gt;) de este mamifero inefable --heraldo de malas noticias, aguador de fiestas, mensajero ominoso-- de la siguiente manera. strand:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"On the eve of my fortieth birthday&lt;br /&gt;I sat on the porch having a smoke&lt;br /&gt;when out of the blue a man and a camel&lt;br /&gt;happened by. Neither uttered a sound&lt;br /&gt;at first, but as they drifted up the street&lt;br /&gt;and out of town the two of them began to sing.&lt;br /&gt;Yet what they sang is still a mystery to me—&lt;br /&gt;the words were indistinct and the tune&lt;br /&gt;too ornamental to recall. Into the desert&lt;br /&gt;they went and as they went their voices&lt;br /&gt;rose as one above the sifting sound&lt;br /&gt;of windblown sand. The wonder of their singing,&lt;br /&gt;its elusive blend of man and camel, seemed&lt;br /&gt;an ideal image for all uncommon couples.&lt;br /&gt;Was this the night that I had waited for&lt;br /&gt;so long? I wanted to believe it was,&lt;br /&gt;but just as they were vanishing, the man&lt;br /&gt;and camel ceased to sing, and galloped&lt;br /&gt;back to town. They stood before my porch,&lt;br /&gt;staring up at me with beady eyes, and said:&lt;br /&gt;“You ruined it. You ruined it forever.”"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ruines camellos que anuncian la ruina en que convertimos nuestra vida por una creencia. runas cuadrupedas que anticipan ruidosamente la fatalidad humana.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-6308266360608791806?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/6308266360608791806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=6308266360608791806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6308266360608791806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6308266360608791806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/11/las-dos-gibas.html' title='las dos gibas'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/R0oeTzwKUAI/AAAAAAAAAA0/nJ4bjh_BZNs/s72-c/camello.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-1554677318696999761</id><published>2007-11-09T08:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:51:27.635-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"only words"</title><content type='html'>free speech 'absolutists' -those who argue that no restriction on speech at all is justified- are absolutely stupid. Their stupidity surfaces in all its pettiness when they argue against anti-pornography regulations. "Do not censor any idea, no matter how contemptible and disgusting you find it -they say- for ideas can do you no harm". Contempt and disgust is what most feminist theorists feel when they are confronted with these arguments, and their retort to them is that it is disingenuous to assert that words of sexual abuse, such as those that are typical in pornographic material, are harmless. Catharine MacKinnon: "As incantations while sexual abuse is occurring, they carry that world with them... sexual terms [do not merely] reference a reality [...] they reaccess and restimulate body memory of it for both aggressor and victim [...] 'Being offended' is the closest the First Amendment tradition comes to grasping this effect." In the eyes of most 'absolutists', pornography is conceived in terms of what it &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;says&lt;/span&gt;, not in terms of what it &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;does&lt;/span&gt;. In this view, forms of communication cannot do anything bad but offend. But offense is all in the head, the argument goes.  It is assumed that words have only “referential relation to reality”. Thus pornography is defended as "only words".  &lt;br /&gt;This view, MacKinnon argues, is problematic because it conveniently disregard the fact that social inequality is created and enforced –done— through words and images. Social hierarchy cannot and does not exist without being embodied in meaning and expressed in communications. (“Whites Only”, “Juden nicht erwuenscht”, “fuck me or you’re fired”, and so on). “Elevation and denigration are all accomplished through meaningful symbols and communicative acts in which saying it is doing it”. That is why it is better to understand pornography in constructing and performative terms, than in referential and connotative ones. Absolutism notwithstanding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-1554677318696999761?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/1554677318696999761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=1554677318696999761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1554677318696999761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1554677318696999761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/11/only-words.html' title='&quot;only words&quot;'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-7284051193291398407</id><published>2007-11-07T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T20:51:50.312-08:00</updated><title type='text'>shame</title><content type='html'>Shame has a bad reputation in modern ethical and political thought because it threatens to fly directly in the face of self-respect of individuals. Your actions (or your failure to act), your failings (or you zealotry) or your defects can earn you the contempt, the derision or the avoidance of others. You then feel ashamed, you blush, you descend a step in the scale of self-respect, you become less respectable in the eyes of others. Next you wish to hide or, better yet, to disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But shame is not only demeaning; it is also enslaving. It robs you of the possibility of becoming a moral agent, an autonomous being capable of legislating for yourself. Shame is a drive, a source of heteronomy. Shame, or fear thereof, has a grip on the knob of the door to autonomy. It means the death of the self-legislating individual, who thus ignores the voice of her reason coming from within and pays head to the shrill of others coming from without. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is there a way to view shame under a more favorable light?   Bernard Williams believes that there are resources in a seemingly unexpected place, Greek thought, which would readily allow us to acknowledge shame’s more positive role.  He argues that if the attempt to retrieve a favorable version of shame from a supposedly “primitive” tradition of moral thought such as the Greek appears to you as a stretch –it might even strike you as a perilous idea—that is probably because you have an erroneous understanding of the way in which shame worked in Homeric society.  It is a mistake to think that shame in the world of Homer “involves merely adjustment to the prejudices of the community” or that shame has “as its object only the competitive success or failures of the individual.” Shame, Williams argues, is in that society a source of normativity--it helps agents to discern between good and bad deeds, between and moral course of action and an immoral one. Williams:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; “An agent will be motivated by prospective shame in the face of people who would be angered by conduct that, in turn, they would avoid for those same reasons. […] These reciprocal attitudes have a content: some kinds of behavior are admired, others accepted, others despised, and it is those attitudes that are internalised, not simply the prospect of hostile reactions. If that were not so, there would be, once more, no shame culture, no shared ethical attitudes at all. […] The other may be identified in ethical terms. He […] is conceived as one whose reactions I would respect; equally, he is conceived as someone who would respect those same reactions if they were appropriately directed to him.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-7284051193291398407?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/7284051193291398407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=7284051193291398407' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7284051193291398407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7284051193291398407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/11/shame.html' title='shame'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-7864520678573329232</id><published>2007-11-05T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T23:41:16.707-08:00</updated><title type='text'>pessoa</title><content type='html'>confundir la necesidad y el deseo. ese es el problema del romanticismo segun pessoa:&lt;br /&gt;"Todos --dice-- necesitamos de las cosas indispensables para vivir, para conservar y prolongar la vida: todos deseamos una vida mas perfecta, una felicidad absoluta, la realidad de nuestros sueños y []&lt;br /&gt;Es humano querer lo que necesitamos, es humano desear lo que no necesitamos pero nos resulta deseable. Lo que es ya una enfermedad es desear con igual intensidad lo que es necesario y lo que es deseable, y sufrir por no ser perfectos como si se sufriera por no tener pan. El mal del romanticismo es este: es querer la luna como si hubiera alguna manera de obtenerla."&lt;br /&gt;hay muchas maneras de sufrir, y una de ellas es la perfeccion, idiotez bañada en oropel. hay que sufrir para merecer. tambien hay que ser idiota.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-7864520678573329232?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/7864520678573329232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=7864520678573329232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7864520678573329232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7864520678573329232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/11/pessoa.html' title='pessoa'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-3092727361053223878</id><published>2007-10-18T23:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T00:02:39.102-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a note on humboldt</title><content type='html'>Liberalism abounds in arguments against state intervention in social life.  A popular Lockean line among liberals, for instance, is that too meddlesome a state might threaten the life, liberty, and property of individuals. Another concern is that the intruding hand of the state can twist the invisible hand of the market by obstructing the interplay of economic agents. Yet another fear is that the hand of the state is not only intrusive but also awkward (i.e. inefficient, complicated, burdensome, and the like). Wilhelm von Humboldt too opposes freewheeling state interference, and he even decries in a similar liberal key the state’s inefficient, intruding and (at least in potency) despotic character. But his main contention with regards to the state has a romantic flavor: he draws his attention to the obnoxious consequences for the inner self of the individual (that is, human nature) of state outgrowth. The crux of his argument is that when the state does more than providing to individuals security from the encroachment of others (what Humboldt calls “negative liberty”) and engages in any activities alien to individual security (“positive welfare”, again in Humboldtian terms), it hinders the development of human potentialities.  A state that oversteps those boundaries, even if its aim is to bring about ease, comfort, and tranquility to society, deprives the individual from her energies and stunts her originality; isolates her from the rest of her fellow societaires; turns her away from public affairs; flattens her intellect and character; thwarts her spontaneity; plunges the society as a whole into uniformity; and so continues this romantic manifesto. Humboldt is not simply a romantic under a liberal cloak, but his political thought certainly harmonizes liberal and romantic commitments to portrait what he believes is the appropriate sphere of state action.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-3092727361053223878?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/3092727361053223878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=3092727361053223878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/3092727361053223878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/3092727361053223878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/10/note-on-humboldt.html' title='a note on humboldt'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-1717640098059537132</id><published>2007-09-26T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:55.076-08:00</updated><title type='text'>vida contemplativa</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RvpzyOYdQhI/AAAAAAAAAAk/G_insxOLcsU/s1600-h/monjes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RvpzyOYdQhI/AAAAAAAAAAk/G_insxOLcsU/s400/monjes.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114527633523950098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no todo en la vida es meditacion. hasta los monjes lo saben.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-1717640098059537132?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/1717640098059537132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=1717640098059537132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1717640098059537132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1717640098059537132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/09/vida-contemplativa.html' title='vida contemplativa'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RvpzyOYdQhI/AAAAAAAAAAk/G_insxOLcsU/s72-c/monjes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-8278157580661411445</id><published>2007-08-01T10:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:55.244-08:00</updated><title type='text'>una epopeya cumbiera: una nota de y sobre el acordeon del diablo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RrDF0-ZEp0I/AAAAAAAAAAc/2XEh0fr9jMs/s1600-h/2_presse_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RrDF0-ZEp0I/AAAAAAAAAAc/2XEh0fr9jMs/s400/2_presse_2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093788692448061250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/JUANES%7E1/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;Escribo con una dolencia honda, muy honda. En los aciagos dias que corren, la salsa y el tango (sobre todo el boludo tango) reinan en los salones y escuelas de baile de la capital alemana. En cambio la cumbia es un ritmo marginado y marginal. Es el hijo impopular e incomprendido de la musica latinoamericana y, asi es el mundo, nadie le presta atencion al patito feo. O casi nadie.&lt;br /&gt;“El acordeon del diablo” es un documental de factura teutona, cuyo heroicismo estriba en su afan por valorar lo que el resto de la nacion germana tiene en poca estima o de plano desprecia. “El acordeon...” narra algunos de los episodios estelares de la historia cumbiera, y en particular de la vida de unos de los personajes centrales del folclor musical colombiano: pacho rado, el hijo dilecto y predilecto de “el dificil” (colombia), trovador cumbiero y uno de los fundadores del vallenato.&lt;br /&gt;No voy a reseñar el documental, pues el rodaje escapa a los afanes recapitulatorios. “El acordeon del diablo” hay que verlo, y que cada quien saque sus conclusiones reposadas y prudentes sobre la cumbia y su desafortunada e injustificada suerte en comparacion con el tango y la salsa, en Alemania y en el resto del mundo. Solo quiero colgar en este perchero el retrato de pacho (lo cual ha quedado hecho ya) y anotar una breve apostilla sobre el despostillado acordeon de don rado.&lt;br /&gt;Como las naciones y las organizaciones, los movimientos musicales han formado con el paso de los anos un mito fundador. La cumbia no es la excepcion. Dice un episodio de la epopeya cumbiera que un buen dia pacho rado se enfrasco en un duelo con un forastero de origen desconocido. Se lo habia topado en la selva, y ahi mismo habia comenzado la contienda; no una vulgar pelea con navajas o pistolas, sino un combate acordeonico de magnitudes epicas.  Rado se presumia hombre invencible cada vez que enfundaba su acordeon. Por eso adivino una presencia supra, sobre, meta y contra humana cuando se soprendio practicamente postrado ante la musica luciferina de su adversario. Quien tocaba el acordeon para y contra nuestro heroe no era otro que el propio diablo, quien seguramente (digo yo, no la mitologia cumbiera) estaria tocando una milonga. Pero rado no se arredro, sino que arremetio con rabia herculea e ingenio cumbiero hasta dar con la clave melodica de la victoria: tocar sus cumbias al reves, que ya sabemos que con el diablo hay que jugar en su terreno, el terreno del simbolismo sacro invertido (el de las cruces y los santos puestos de cabeza). Rado triunfo, y con eso salvo su alma y la dignidad de la cumbia. Asi sucedera algun dia en Berlin, que espera por su deutcher rado. La salsa y el tango, rosas infernales, feneceran en las calles de Hackescher Markt y floreceran en su lugar las amapolas de la cumbia, flores que nunca se marchitan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-8278157580661411445?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/8278157580661411445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=8278157580661411445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/8278157580661411445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/8278157580661411445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/08/una-epopeya-cumbiera-una-nota-de-y.html' title='una epopeya cumbiera: una nota de y sobre el acordeon del diablo'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/RrDF0-ZEp0I/AAAAAAAAAAc/2XEh0fr9jMs/s72-c/2_presse_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-2011538251342560846</id><published>2007-07-27T08:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T08:25:55.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>on brecht</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/Rq5kEuZEpzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/MEiYNU4Ju38/s1600-h/berlin+2007+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/Rq5kEuZEpzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/MEiYNU4Ju38/s400/berlin+2007+018.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093118260938057522" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;German poetry is too complicated for me because my German is meager, &lt;br /&gt;not to say poor. Usually I will not understand poems &lt;br /&gt;written in that language, and, no matter how eager &lt;br /&gt;I am, I hardly ever get anything out of them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is one exception, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read a poem by Bertolt Brecht the other day, &lt;br /&gt;called „Der Radwechsel“:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ich sitze am Strassenrand&lt;br /&gt;Der Fahrer wechselt das Rad.&lt;br /&gt;Ich bin nicht gerne, wo ich herkomme.&lt;br /&gt;Ich bin nicht gerne, wo ich hinfahre.&lt;br /&gt;Warum sehe ich den Radwechsel &lt;br /&gt;Mit Ungeduld? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Brecht, I am happy to discover, is not only the poet of the masses,&lt;br /&gt;he is also the poet of students of German as a second language)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I read him, Brecht is simply saying this: I do not feel at ease where I am going to; I do not feel at ease where I am coming from. And yet, sitting by the roadside, I impatiently look at the driver, as he changes the wheel of the car that drives me to (but also away from) the place where I am never in peace with myself. I do not have reasons to be impatient, I am not looking forward to get there "wo ich hinfare", but I wouldn't care much to go back to the place "wo ich herkomme". Why would I feel this Ungeduld?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy to understand the German in the poem.&lt;br /&gt;I was sad to understand the poem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-2011538251342560846?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/2011538251342560846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=2011538251342560846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/2011538251342560846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/2011538251342560846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/07/on-brecht.html' title='on brecht'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KGGJ3nviig8/Rq5kEuZEpzI/AAAAAAAAAAU/MEiYNU4Ju38/s72-c/berlin+2007+018.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-6636690259928469675</id><published>2007-06-29T03:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T12:12:47.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>recuerdos ahogados: un ejercicio de desahogo</title><content type='html'>Hay recuerdos que son como naufragios: barcos que encallan en los arrecifes de nuestra memoria, que navegan un mar que calla, que talla su silencio y cierra sus labios para esconder el ramo de corales que prepara el inevitable hundimiento.&lt;br /&gt;Otros recuerdos flotan en el desamparo: como barcos atracados en un puerto abandonado, como veleros atascados en un lago sin olas, desolado, como naves despojadas hasta de la oscura luz de un faro en ruinas.&lt;br /&gt;A la postre en eso se convierten los recuerdos: en retazos del pasado que la marea escupe en la playa del presente, con una indiferencia, una frialdad que produce vertigo, que marea. &lt;br /&gt;El tiempo, dicen algunos poetas, es como un rio, porque como el rio, fluye: es un devenir constante, un fluir apremiante, que circula no obstante las piedras que se encuentra en su camino.&lt;br /&gt;Pero la metafora hace aguas (se hunde entre las aguas del rio al cual pretende capturar en una imagen). El tiempo no fluye. Fluye el presento y fluira (probablemente) el futuro, pero el pasado esta estancado. Y un rio nunca nace de un cuerpo inmovil de agua. Lo sucedido ayer es como un lago cuyo reposo nada ni nadie ha alterado jamas: ni el viento, ni el curso de los anos. Basta remover su corteza (la que cubre al lago) para que su fetidez se desprenda, como se desprende el aroma de una costra que se quiebra. ¿Que puede concluirse a partir de estos pensamientos un poco inconexos? Al menos esto: que algunos recuerdos hay que dejarlos en el pasado. Se les puede mirar a la distancia, pero es mejor no tocar las aguas que los cubren.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-6636690259928469675?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/6636690259928469675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=6636690259928469675' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6636690259928469675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/6636690259928469675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/06/recuerdos-ahogados-un-ejercicio-de.html' title='recuerdos ahogados: un ejercicio de desahogo'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-510666152840062019</id><published>2007-06-25T01:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T01:19:04.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>de "entre la piedra y la flor" (o. paz)</title><content type='html'>Entre el primer silencio y el postrero,&lt;br /&gt;entre la piedra y la flor,&lt;br /&gt;tú caminas. Te ciñe un pulso aéreo,&lt;br /&gt;un silencio flotante,&lt;br /&gt;como fuga de sangre, como humo,&lt;br /&gt;como agua que olvida.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Llamas petrificadas te sostienen.&lt;br /&gt;Caminas entre espadas,&lt;br /&gt;casi invisible&lt;br /&gt;bajo el temblor del cielo liso,&lt;br /&gt;con un paso, un solo paso tierno,&lt;br /&gt;un leve paso de animal que huye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tú caminas. Tú duermes. Tú fornicas.&lt;br /&gt;Tú danzas, bebes, sueñas.&lt;br /&gt;Sueñas en otros labios que prolonguen tu sueño.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alguien te sueña, solo.&lt;br /&gt;Tu nombre, polvo, piedra,&lt;br /&gt;en el polvo sediento precipita su ruina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas no es el ritmo oscuro del planeta,&lt;br /&gt;el renacer de cada día,&lt;br /&gt;el remorir de cada noche,&lt;br /&gt;lo que te mueve por la tierra.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-510666152840062019?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/510666152840062019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=510666152840062019' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/510666152840062019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/510666152840062019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/06/de-entre-la-piedra-y-la-flor-o-paz.html' title='de &quot;entre la piedra y la flor&quot; (o. paz)'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-7985739336874181533</id><published>2007-05-28T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T07:33:14.389-07:00</updated><title type='text'>too burdensome</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Religion is not a blessing, but a curse. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Voltaire believed that religion was the breeding ground for superstition. Rousseau thought religion (or Catholicism at least) engendered social strife. Hume was certain that religion amounted to transcendental and obnoxious nonsense. Marx famously argued that religion was the opium of the people. And the string of invectives could go on.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know –I don’t really care-- if Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, and Marx were right that religion is detrimental to individuals from a social point of view. I am more interested in personal perspectives.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Religion is supposed to be a practice of inclusion. The problem is that inclusion is the flip-side of exclusion. For every person that has been included, another five have been excluded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sn&lt;/span&gt;’t there something absurd about an institution that rivets the possibility of an emotional attachment to the harsh and inflexible surface of a religious identity? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Isn&lt;/span&gt;’t there something unwise about a practice that conditions sentimental choices on a profession of faith?&lt;/p&gt;religion just sounds too burdensome for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-7985739336874181533?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/7985739336874181533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=7985739336874181533' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7985739336874181533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7985739336874181533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/05/too-burdensome.html' title='too burdensome'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-1736445688713548345</id><published>2007-05-14T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T16:04:42.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>only the commencement</title><content type='html'>beware of graduations! some say they are only about academic honors, but that is not true. i can see through all the regalia, and i know something else hides beneath the gowns and the hoods. graduations are ceremonies of rebirth and rebaptism.&lt;br /&gt;i recently graduated from a u.s.american university. and alas: in the process I turned into someone else. inadvertently, perhaps unconsciously, I forsook my latin self and assumed an anglo-saxon identity. i left juan behind and thus became "master jVan".    &lt;br /&gt;i'm sure this is only the commencement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.arachneweb.net/Gradfoto/Options.cfm?PhotoID=26200536_00005_0058"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.arachneweb.net/Gradfoto/Options.cfm?PhotoID=26200536_00005_0058"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;!--[if gte vml 1]&gt;&lt;v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75" coordsize="21600,21600" spt="75" preferrelative="t" path="m@4@5l@4@11@9@11@9@5xe" filled="f" stroked="f"&gt;  &lt;v:stroke joinstyle="miter"&gt;  &lt;v:formulas&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="if lineDrawn pixelLineWidth 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 1 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum 0 0 @1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @2 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @3 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @0 0 1"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @6 1 2"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelWidth"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @8 21600 0"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="prod @7 21600 pixelHeight"&gt;   &lt;v:f eqn="sum @10 21600 0"&gt;  &lt;/v:formulas&gt;  &lt;v:path extrusionok="f" gradientshapeok="t" connecttype="rect"&gt;  &lt;o:lock ext="edit" aspectratio="t"&gt; &lt;/v:shapetype&gt;&lt;v:shape id="_x0000_i1025" type="#_x0000_t75" alt="(26200536-00005-0058)" href="http://www.arachneweb.net/Gradfoto/Options.cfm?PhotoID=26200536_00005_0058" style="'width:108pt;height:141.75pt'" button="t"&gt;  &lt;v:imagedata src="file:///C:\DOCUME~1\JUANES~1\LOCALS~1\Temp\msohtml1\01\clip_image001.jpg" href="http://www.arachneweb.net/Gradfoto/Photos/26200536/00005/0058.jpg"&gt; &lt;/v:shape&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if !vml]--&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.arachneweb.net/Gradfoto/Options.cfm?PhotoID=26200536_00005_0058"&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-1736445688713548345?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/1736445688713548345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=1736445688713548345' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1736445688713548345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/1736445688713548345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/05/only-commencement.html' title='only the commencement'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-2834853790535661684</id><published>2007-05-12T13:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T07:44:38.890-07:00</updated><title type='text'>la hueva</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-MX"&gt;El problema de la hueva es su intangibilidad. La hueva esta ahi, uno lo sabe, uno la siente, uno la padece, pero nadie puede, nadie ha podido tocarla jamas. La fatiga se nota en las ojeras, la felicidad se anuncia en la boca, la tristeza se adivina en los ojos. ¿Pero donde radica la hueva? ¿Donde y como se instala en el cuerpo?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quisiera pensar que la hueva es un humor intrascendente, un malestar animico de poca monta, pero yo seria el ultimo en creerlo con sinceridad. ¿Puede alguno de nosotros negar que a la hueva le hemos entregado nuestros mejores momentos, que hemos sacrificado ante su altar todos los libros y articulos que nunca escribimos, las sonatas que nunca compusimos, las canciones que nunca cantamos, las amistades que ya no cultivamos? &lt;br /&gt;La hueva es inasible, pero estamos entre sus garras. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-2834853790535661684?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/2834853790535661684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=2834853790535661684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/2834853790535661684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/2834853790535661684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/05/la-hueva.html' title='la hueva'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-7774384687044730634</id><published>2007-05-03T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-03T08:20:17.448-07:00</updated><title type='text'>¿el imperio de la legalidad?</title><content type='html'>hay quienes dicen que en estados unidos siempre ha imperado el estado de derecho; que el usamericano sacraliza la ley y por lo tanto la obedece con fervor casi religioso; que a diferencia del latinoamericano, el ciudadano angloamericano respeta el imperio de la legalidad. puede ser. de tocqueville, cuyas opiniones yo seria  el ultimo en tomar a la ligera, ya habia registrado el dato en &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;la democracia en america&lt;/span&gt; de 1835.&lt;br /&gt;pero si uno mira la historia reciente de estados unidos, por ejemplo el derrotero de las relaciones raciales durante el siglo pasado, la fe usamericana en el imperio de la ley parece en entredicho. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;brown vs.  board of  education&lt;/span&gt;,  la decision de la suprema corte de justicia que dio al traste con uno de los pilares fundamentales del sistema de segregacion racial que imperaba entonces en  el pais, tuvo lugar en 1954. diez años despues el apartheid usamericano seguia en pie, mas vivo que nunca. de jure habia dejado de existir, de facto se mantenia incolume. ¿el motivo? casi nadie respeto la decision judicial de acabar con las leyes de segregacion en escuelas, parques, autobuses, etc. la ideologia racial en boga prevalecio sobre el espiritu legalista. en particular en el sur, pero tambien en el norte del pais, jueces, gobernadores, ciudadanos: una parte sustancial de ellos, animada por un instinto racista, echo la legalidad por la borda y se aferro a sus prejuicios raciales. yo pago mis impuestos a tiempo, obedezco las reglas de transito, respeto las propiedades del projimo, pero que mi hijo, de acuerdo con &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;brown&lt;/span&gt;, comparta el pupitre con un negro&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;get outta here&lt;/span&gt;! ¿imperio de la legalidad? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my ass&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-7774384687044730634?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/7774384687044730634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=7774384687044730634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7774384687044730634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/7774384687044730634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/05/el-imperio-de-la-legalidad.html' title='¿el imperio de la legalidad?'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-667494620141998651</id><published>2007-04-21T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-21T15:09:22.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>una ocurrencia sobre el aborto</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-MX"&gt;Una de las dicotomias mas trilladas de la filosofia politica occidental es la que contrapone la libertad a&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;la igualdad. Se supone que son dos valores antiteticos e irreconcibles y, &lt;i style=""&gt;pace&lt;/i&gt; Rawls, armomizarlos es segun algunos una empresa ilusa o incluso ilusoria. Hay un apice de verdad en esa creencia. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Pocos dudan, por ejemplo, que la libertad politica conduce a la postre, de manera irremediable, a la desigualdad economica (y Marx lo sabia bien).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-MX"&gt;Desde otro punto de vista, sin embargo, la disyuntiva entre la libertad o igualdad es falsa. Hay multiples instancias en las que la libertad y la igualdad son dos caras de la misma moneda. El derecho al aborto, por ejemplo, es un tema en el que los imperativos de la libertad y la igualdad parecen confluir y reforzarse mutuamente. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-MX"&gt;Que razones podermos ofrecer para justificar ese derecho? Una posibilidad, arraigada en la idea de libertad, consiste en postular eso que hemos dado en llamar “el derecho a la privacidad”, y luego en afirmar que el derecho al aborto es uno de sus corolarios. En este razonamiento esta asentado, por ejemplo, &lt;i style=""&gt;Roe v. Wade&lt;/i&gt;, que legaliza el derecho al aborto dentro de los primeros tres meses del embarazo en EU.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="ES-MX"&gt;Otra posible justificacion del derecho al aborto parte del concepto de igualdad. La idea basica es que prohibir a una mujer la posibilidad de abortar equivale a arrebatarle el control de sus funciones reproductivas para colocarlo en las manos de otros, hombres en su mayoria; equivale, en una palabra, a colonizar el cuerpo femenino. Desde esta perspectiva, el derecho al aborto se vuelve un imperativo en nombre de la igualdad entre hombres y mujeres. Negarle la posibilidad de abortar a una mujer que no desea ejercer la maternidad es contribuir a encadenarla a la esfera domestica. El problema no solo es que esto suceda en contra de su voluntad; el problema mayor, desde este mirador igualitario, tiene que ver con el hecho de que la desigualdad entre generos nace precisamente del confinamiento de la mujer al ambito domestico. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-667494620141998651?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/667494620141998651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=667494620141998651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/667494620141998651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/667494620141998651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/04/una-ocurrencia-sobre-el-aborto.html' title='una ocurrencia sobre el aborto'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6229410660797412217.post-277552685842962137</id><published>2007-04-17T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T10:36:12.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'>tristezas</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="ES-MX" style="font-family:Garamond;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Hay muchos ejemplos de la pobreza de la lengua para retratar los sentimientos; para recoger, codificar y apresar en fonemas o vocablos los datos de la vida sentimental. El caso mas claro es de la tristeza. La tristeza es variopinta, y la palabra “tristeza” no refleja sus colores ni sirve para descomponer los pigmentos constitutivos de ese sentimiento. La tristeza tiene tambien muchas sonoridades, y el sonido “tristeza” no ofrece al oido texturas musicales ni tonalidades variadas. Hoy, por ejemplo, yo estoy triste. Si no digo mas, es probable que nadie me entienda. Porque mi tristeza, como todas las demas, es de una naturaleza peculiar. No es negra y disonante. No es una tristeza que desgarra y lastima. Es mas bien una tristeza de color pardo y resonancias gimnopedicas. Una tristeza que estultifica e idiotiza. Una tristeza arbitraria y volatil. Una tristeza que no es bienvenida (ciertas tristezas pueden serlo) pero si mal nacida: una tristeza ilegitima y sin arraigo. Una tristeza insidiosa y odiosa, que se filtra con sigilo y sin advertencia. Una tristeza como la brisa: impredecible, inasible y, en dias como estos, irascible. Una tristeza arrogante, que se instala sin rendir cuentas, sin rendirse y sin que yo pueda siquiera darme cuenta. Eso es lo bueno de la tristeza: son tantas sus variedades que uno jamas se cansa de ella.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6229410660797412217-277552685842962137?l=elespinoylamata.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/feeds/277552685842962137/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6229410660797412217&amp;postID=277552685842962137' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/277552685842962137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6229410660797412217/posts/default/277552685842962137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://elespinoylamata.blogspot.com/2007/04/tristezas.html' title='tristezas'/><author><name>pisito</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00708555025541583168</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01850356791659707415'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>