Thursday, February 27, 2003

Canta oh Diosa la cólera del pélida Aquiles

cólera funesta que causó infinitas muertes entre los aqueos

Following on vulpecula's approach to the Illiad. I have to say that for me the most interesting character, by far, is that of Achilles and the inner conflict he has:
The whole book protrays the decision he has to take: he has to choose between a long life on his land, with his family, and a short life in the battlefield in exchange for glory, and he chooses the later.
This shows us how, for the greeks, the greatest form of success was "to be the subject of poetry", that is, to be remembered by others, which is what we would call "fame" nowadays.

If the story took place in present time heroes wouldn't be those who seek glory, but those who seek (and find) money, but, would I really chooose a ton of money in exchange of, let's say, a mentally challenging ocupation? I think not

Wednesday, February 19, 2003

Monday, February 17, 2003

Welcome to the Jungle

Today I realized that I have just become what seven year old boys call "a grownup". That is, a person that works at an office. What a terryfying tought. I had always believed that by that time my life should have been figured out, but it is very far from being so.
Following the spirit of a recent Galactus post, I'll do a little recount on my journey:
5:57 Wake up magically three minutes before the alarm clock said it was time.
6:05 Went jogging
6:16 Reached 11th street
6:24 Finished jogging
6:35 Took a shower, hot water for the first time in months, advantages of waking up early
7:19 Took the Transmilenio, to get to the office
7:31 Arrived at Los Heroes station
7:38 Arrived at the office
7:45 Left paperwork for admittance at the correct office
8:02 Met with a guy that was giving courses on a 4G language and started talking with the guy
9:02 The boss is here (should have arrived at 8:00)
9:10 Walk through the office, about 45 names of people I have already forgotten
9:30 Turn on the computer, start reading quality assurance forms
13:30 Went to lunch
14:00 Came back from lunch, the infamous "5 harinas" at $2.500, reading again
15:10 Went to meet some more people, followed by more reading
18:00 Started installing a mysql server in several PCs, fixed a lightbulb
18:40 Went home
19:03 Arrived home
19:05 Went to the store to pick up some clothes
19:30 Arrived home again
20:00 Had dinner
21:20 Checked e-mail, phone, etc
22:00 Wrote blog

Saturday, February 15, 2003

It looks like the hosting's ultimatum was full of BS, the evil ring may still survive on prohosting for a while


These last few days I have been dedicating myself to that useless spending of time known to men as "vueltas". In order to start working I've had to produce an incredible amount of documents, from a 3x4 picture, to a medical examination, to several recomendation letters. That thing of writing recomendation letters is, from my point of view, a useless exercise. Most of the time the people would be willing to endorse the letter, but not willing to spend the time required in making it, so, they ask the demanding party (which in this case was me) to produce the letter so that they can then sign it. This leads the letter-seeker (again, me) to a very stupid exercise of self flattering where one has to say how perfect and nice, and gentle, and good with people and whatever, one is. I don't actually think they would read the letters, or use them for anything. For instance, if I decide to turn evil and run away with money or clients, what can anybody do? blame the person who signed the recommendation letter?
After reading my blog my kinda-shrink (the person that's using me as a Guinea Pig for a psychological project) told me that the psycho part was a joke, but that her diagnosis would be one of "lack of inner reflection" and "fear of failiure". Oh, my God I have seen the light. (Yeah, right)

Tuesday, February 11, 2003


When the peace conversations where about to start, back in 98, when Tirofijo left our beloved (?) president, Mr Patraña standing like the moron he was, alone, one of his messenger boys (I think it was Raul Reyes) read his speech.
In it he justified thirty five years of blood, thirty five years of fighting because back in the beginning of the sixties the army went and stole his chickens. (I'm not lying, his speech did talk about stolen chickens).
No terrorist organization ever has defeated an stablished government, if that government has the support of the people it rules over. We are one of the best examples of that. I still remember with fear those days back in 88-89 or 92-93, when bombs exploded all over. It was bad, but we survived, even Pablo Escobar, with his endless amount of money, wasn't able to defeat the country.
There are two ways of handling this thing: Win the war and then bring the opportunities and development to the rural regions the war started on or, kill the war at it's source, at the lack of opportunities for the poor, and then expect it to end from it's own weight.
I think #2 might have been feasible fifteen years ago, but now it is not. You can not bring progress if you can't get there, and you can get there if armed men control rivers and roads.
So it is war. It is war that has no winners tough. The people that will die will be colombians, every way you look at it. Most of the time it will be 16 or 17 year old boys who had no other choice. I think that a "kill them all" strategy is not only bloodier than any possible bomb threat (we kill more than the people that die on the Twin Towers every year, without a declared war), but futile. We have to attack the means of financing and of obtaining weapons. If they have no money, they can't fight, and soldiers don't have to die.
Tehre is only one business that produces more money than drug traffic: weapon sale. However, this is not as punished and as prosecuted as narcotics for a simple reason: It brings money from third world countries into first world ones, from third world pockets into first world banks. Acting on rage one could say that with just the sheer desire of "killing them all" it would be as good as done (with a little bit of pain and suffering in the middle, but a done deal). It is not true. Angola has been devastating itself on a civil war, even bloodier than ours for 25 years, and it wasn't until the leader of the rebel party, Jonas Savimbi died that the two parts could start discusing the end of the bloodshed. However, such a long bloodshed was only possible because the governement financed itself by exporting petroleum and the rebels did so with diamonds, both had money to throw on russian, european and american weapons to kill each other.
The point is: It is war, but the way of defeating it is not by creating a half a million men army. We have to attack the visible heads, those sons of bitches that appear on the news informing us that "the rich are going to pay" or that "nos vemos el siete a las seis". I think it is time to play it fair: to throw this sons of bithces rights down the drain, like they have thrown ours and to hit them, but hit them on the head, because the rest of the body can reproduce, but headless they are just a group of kids that happen to have a gun.

Monday, February 03, 2003

Was this guy drunk when he posted?

I'm psycho (yeah, right)

Psychotic disorders include severe mental disorders which are characterized by extreme impairment of a person's ability to think clearly, respond emotionally, communicate effectively, understand reality, and behave appropriately.(stolen from here)
Last friday I sort of went to the shrink. A friend of mine, who ahappens to be studying psychology asked me to be her lab rat. I said yes, and so we wound up drinking juguito at Bulevar Niza. One of her conclussions was that I was psychotic (I cannot actually tell when these people are joking and when they are telling the truth, they say it all with a real straight face, that makes it hard to tell). I have to say that, reading the definition, if I understood reality then I would have to become suicidal, but since I don't, and ignorance is bliss, I can stay alive.

I still don't seem to grasp why some twisted mind would like to make a living out of fleshing out everybody elses mind. The thing is that it got me thinking a lot about what we call "normal". Most people would say "normal" is good. I would ask WTF is normal? Is it conforming? is it "sold to the system"? is it "unable to diverge"?, continuing the saga of ignorance being bliss, is normal a state of confortable numbness where you have ceased to interrogate, and trouble yourself with questions?

I have no doubt that the state of confortable numbness is by far easier than restless doubting, but is it convenient? is it desirable just to let doubts, and tought fall asleep for the sake of normality?

If it is I'd rather not be labeled with such a tag