:p

Bonus post generated by confusion

:)

A letter to the World Vegetarians

It is absolutely normal for an intelligent person to be distressed by the idea of killing and devouring an animal--we experience the same discomfort about it. One can have very fruitful relations with most animals we eat and it does feel deranged to feast upon them.

Furthermore, and notwithstanding this personal relation, a sensitive Man can still sympathize with the animal’s primal urge--that we also feel--to simply be alive. We can understand that.

Nevertheless, if we confront these feelings with daily life, we will learn that eating meat, in moderation, is a perfectly healthy, natural behavior shared by many species; It is not a perversion of any sort.

If the idea of killing and eating an animal is really so hostile and deranged to you--if you find yourself utterly disgusted by the presence of a dead cow inside a supermarket--our immediate wonder is: “Why do you not feel the same way about vegetables?”

Plants are alive too, you know... Even if you have never spent time enough among them to feel it in your conscience, you most certainly have learned this in school. There is no discussion: Vegetables are alive, just like we are; They are living beings, like the animals you refuse to swallow.

However, in complete discordance with this simple piece of common knowledge, we still consider (in the back of our minds) that these beautiful entities are outcasts--pagans!--probably only because they have no eyes, no voice... No immediate connection to awaken our senses out of the stupid denying of life to the vegetal world.

To say that a plan cannot feel, because it has no nervous central system, is like saying that bats cannot see, because they perceive no light. We are not the center of the world, as the book of Genesis (and the entire bible, really, with its human-like God) suggests. If a living being cannot feel the world through the same tools we humans do, it does not mean they cannot feel at all.

If a plant is damaged, it releases hormones to make it more difficult to eat and actually slightly poisonous. How can you deny their suffering? This is no casual observation, but a scientific fact. When plants are hurt, they try to protect themselves. Only because they cannot bleed, or cry, or scream, will you pretend it is alright?

Though we cannot relate ourselves to a banana the same way we could do it with a dog (unless you are a pervert, of course, which would not surprise me) the fact remains that vegetables are living beings and that we rip them out of the ground and eat them.

And we--horrible hungry Men--are not the only ones doing it. Cute bunnies do it too.

#

Absolutely everything--everything--that can be fit into biology is nothing but the history of vegetables and their parasites. There is no way around it. We are bloody fucking parasites and we eat the living so that we will survive; kill yourself, or get over it.

We must put ourselves in the position of a little kid who is averse to needles and needs to take an injection. We are not perfect, and some times it is wise to admit our feelings are wrong. So, despite our personal disposition towards this subject, we encourage ourselves, in moderation, to kill and eat fellow sentient beings--animals or plants, indistinctly--not only as a necessity to survive, but also as a path to enlightenment; For the pure act of eating, if properly understood and imbued with the right meaning, will help deteriorating ignorant illusions blocking our way to reality, freedom and true peace.

#

It is also common knowledge that many among your group became vegetarians not for the mere repulsion to eat meat, but as a passive attack against companies that cruelly mistreat the animals destined to become food.

“We cannot support this industry”, we have heard for a long time, from many different mouths. This is also a desire we can admire. We are against animal abuse too but, unfortunately, a passive resistance as simple as not buying meat does not appear, in reality, to have any influence over the Machine.

If the majority of the population suddenly did the same, then maybe your plan would have a chance--maybe! But, as discussed previously, eating meat is a natural behavior and it will continue. You cannot trust a plan to save the whole planet if this plan only works after 80% of the population starts an anomalous food program. The Beast says “Fit!”, and most are not eager to be an anomaly. There are few of us out there who are willing to fight. Our individual economical power is not significant enough to make the Machine bleed. So let us think of another individual power that can work like a knife and help us in our fight: Knowledge.

#

Real knowledge begins with Socrates. Not to have read Socrates dialogues is like being an analphabet. In those books, one can find the very Guiding Manual of Being a Man.

Concerning the topic of this letter, a basic analysis of Plato’s Republic will clearly demonstrate that when Men group themselves together in a city--and divide the different jobs among different people--the removal of garbage from the streets will depend much more on the character of the garbage-man than on the character of anyone else.

Any given city can be entirely populated by recycling-freaks environmentalists who never miss a trash can and still be completely filthy if the garbage-man, for example, is a drunk pedophile fucker who never works and can only think about collecting public fees and sniffing powder with underaged prostitutes.

Through the same process, a city filled with the lamest teenagers in the world would still shine clean if taken care by a real version of the super heroes we see in toothpaste commercials.

If you are worried about garbage on the streets, creating sophisticated means to deal with your own trash and stimulating it between your neighbors will change nothing. You must aim at the garbage-man. You must attack him and take his place, or force him to work properly.

Boycotting meat, or any product sold in a large scale, is pretty similar to praying--It makes you feel better, and it changes nothing.

We need to attack--that is what we do. And as we already have a solid plan, now all we need is power to sink the knife in.

We need more soldiers by our side and for that reason we want your group to dissolve. Demons are those who deprive a society of its fighting energy. Fiends! Your whole ideology is no better than a bible with crucified broccolis in the place of Jesus. Your World Vegetarians disseminate words of a false salvation and leads people into the belief that meaningless selfishness and vanity acts resume their social obligations.

If you teach a warrior he is doing enough by simply buying selected products while the enemy burn our houses and rape our women you are evil and you must perish--this is why we have kidnapped your leader.

#

A minor boycott will never cause the food industry to collapse. Even at the impossible perfect scenario of your deceiving plan, if you had magically convinced the whole world population to stop eating the animals, you could not simply stop to eat at all.

The big companies are not a bunch of balls inertly falling. They are not commanded by gravity or any other unmollifiable law; It adapts! And even now, as the percentage of non-meat-eaters is ludicrously small, these companies already make a gravy train over your silly utopia of breaking them.

All they need to do is change a logo and dive at the pool of any other market; Suddenly you are feeding them again, giving your money away for those nice soy products--and if you are infuriated about the animals, do not dare thinking they treat those grains any better.

#

In forests all over the world, where many of us were raised, there are indians who feel they must excuse themselves to a three before cutting it down. They ask the trees for their permission and then they apologize.

We have spent most of our lives among plants and we know they are alive.

When you look at all the vegetables we eat, you should also realize they did not come from a beautiful hilltop, where they had the best cozy sun every morning and the fairly undisputed floor from which to suck different dishes from time to time. They are not given the joy of the refreshing surprise of the rain. Most of the vegetables you eat never felt the rain, or even natural sunlight. These plants did not have a normal wild life where they could get some kind of affective relation with other elements of Nature.

Plants can also sense things and communicate, in some levels, with whatever surrounds them, be it a Man, a passing fox, a bird nesting upon them, or even just another plant living nearby.

The vegetables we eat lived confined and planted in series, artificially lighten and fed and abnormally grown with chemicals to please our tastes and commercial conveniences--just like the pigs, ducks and cows you say you are willing to fight for.

#

Do not fool yourself. Our food industry is perverse, but that is only a small part of this huge industrial evil that took hold of our society.

The garbage-man is a hooker and the actual hookers became role models! The mayor is greedy, the police is blood thirsty and the workers are drugged; The doctor is sick, the teacher is crazy, the layer is guilty and the list goes on and on forever...

You can not change all of that with a fucking diet! There are few of us willing to fight, and you collect these golden seeds for what? Fiends! You guide them into your infantile playground, where they are taught that all we need to do in order to save the planet is wasting our blessed time in futile forgoings, such as longing for a roast beef.

#

Leading people into the belief that boycotting meat will solve things is preposterous. It is criminal! Reducing people’s capacity to fight by giving them a social religion that turns recycling into prayer and donation into tithing is wrong. You cannot make people feel ok about themselves as the world around us burn. Just look around! The rivers are poisoned, the smoke rises and the buildings fall. People must fight!

People must get mad, first, so they will be eager to do the things that really matters--and that is what we do. We take action.

You, members of the World Vegetarians organization, take away from the individuals their desire for revolution and their ability to engage combat. You canalize these feelings into a bunch of useless, fairytale crap--the same way religion exploits the good intentions of a population, turning them into a bunch of humble, humiliated slaves.

You teach this people that by staging insignificant personal behaviors they are actually doing what is necessary and that, after becoming vegetarians, they do not need to think about revolting any longer. Your organization has been considered harmful, and the kidnapping of your leader is actually a good deed by your own standards.

We are not open to negotiation and we do not ask for a ransom. We simply want your group to dismember. It will not be a great loss.

You are nothing more than silly dreamers and amateurs--there is no point in keeping a conglomerate of these.

We are true revolutionaries. Actually, not revolutionaries; this word has already lost its monster-like significance. They ripped it out of its true meaning, so that old fighters could have their stamp sold as another market-related, harmless products to satisfy people’s rebellion desire.

The proper word to describe our potential is not revolution, but terrorism. This is what the Machine reports to be fighting against, so that is exactly who we are.

We will not seat upon your asses and read nutritional information out of colored packs--suspecting soups and risotto, insanely looking of any traces of Rennet or gelatin, as if they were the true enemies--while the whole world collapses at our feet.

We act and we fight, and we have a wise knife.

#

We want those among you who share our honest rage against the Machine o join our cause. And we know they will eventually come to us, as soon as we release them from the clutches of these deceiving fantasies you create. We need these soldiers, and we do understand that simply dismembering your group will not help. They could simply join any other (or none) and keep this vegetarian nonsense till their dying day; and that is why we needed your leader. We are prepared to create a counterpoint which will release our brothers.

#

Our organization has planned in silence for many years. We do not want to call attention to ourselves. We do not want special products or any other type of insecurity driven social self-imposed status.

We waited patiently. During these long, productive years we have done much and said nothing.

Concerning particularly this vegetarian problem, it is time for you all to know that we have infiltrated strategic targets of your food industry.

In the specific cell under my supervision, the youngest generation of our silent warriors spent almost their whole lifes among plants. I, myself, and my two immediate managers come from so deep in Brazilian forests that the simple fact of living in a modern city--in order to finally set our candles on fire--feels immoral and oppressive. We are not afraid to sacrifice our very lives; none of us!

And by now we have huge farms; we have gigantic crops and we know everything about them.

Needless to say that this ability to sacrifice and this knowledge about what we do granted us a top position among the vegan/vegetarian market. In a way that (through your own reasoning) as long as you keep this foolish lifestyle, maybe you are no longer supporting the farmers who abuse animals--but you are supporting us!

You have funded the very kidnapping of your leader and many other revolutionary acts that will be developed in order to force the potentially active population out of their alienating contention cells.

We are rising and you will help us, one way or the other.

Please, do not be too sensitive about it. We live in a harsh world--you must understand that. If you see a snake ready to bite you, will you not kill it? To live in a harsh world, but as free, enlightened Men!

Your leader, it feels appropriate to say, is being treated with great hospitality and he even gained some weight.

He does not know it yet, but he is destined to provide us with further enlightenment, as he is about to find the same end of all our vegan/vegetarian strategic targets:

We will eat him.

RAGTFTP|JPNRDC

(Red Alert Group--Through Freedom we will have True Peace!

Jonathan Pearce, Neal Richman and Douglas Cassady)

:)

ehh....

ya ninguno va a escribir mas aca????

yo no tengo reflexiones improtantes, ni novedades confirmadas, ni nada de eso. tampoco quiero decir nada relevante (como siempre) pero queria dejar constancia de mi existencia y de las ganas que tengo de volver a ver cosas copadas en este blogg del orrrrrto.

....sino, tendre que proceder a mearlos.

Helartista
(artista extremo)
(artista enfermo)

MASS MEDIA

De los medios de comunicación
en este mundo tan codificado
con internet y otras navegaciones
yo sigo prefiriendo
el viejo beso artesanal
que desde siempre comunica tanto

Lo escribió Benedetti y lo posteo yo para compartirlo con vosotros..
Hay que besarse más!
Ya lo dijo Galán!
Sinchán

Me fui

Después de largos 3 años, el día miércoles 26 ,a las 16hs (y si mi recambio llega en horario) se romperá el maleficio, se abrirá el tapper, me caeré de la cama, me arremangaré, respiraré pronfundo y me iré del Paraiso rumbo a lo desconocido.

Aunque quisiera festejar con todos ustedes (sin guiris de por medio), esa misma noche me voy a Madrid porque me mola hacer trámites, pero el sábado ya estaré de vuelta y pretendo hacer una movida recepcionalmente única, donde no se borre ningun garca, ni ningún turno ni nungún hostal sea excluido (que trabajen los jefes,coño!), ni que sea muy caro porque todavía no encontre trabajo, en donde en armonia, opdamos celebrar el simple hecho de CAMBIAR.

Vayamos viendo que hongo y ya veremos que surje.

Helartista
(En pleno subidón 100%)

José

- Hola, ¿puedo pasar?
- ¿Tienes reserva?
- No, quería preguntar algo sobre el hostal
- Estamos completos, hasta después de Semana Santa -dije como para poner fin a una típica conversación de portero eléctrico.
- ¿Eres Nicolás? Tú me conoces, quiero saludarte.
- ¿Quién eres?
- José
- ...
- José, estuve aquí con Karen, hace unos meses
- Ahhh, José, pasa

No había pensado en José en mucho tiempo. Tampoco en Karen, pero su nombre resultó inmediata contraseña para que decidiera abrir la puerta. José y Karen habían estado hospedados en el hostal unos cinco o seis meses antes. Su reserva era sólo por un par de noches, y luego agregaron otra y otra. Querían instalarse en Barcelona. En esos días, yo los había ayudado en la búsqueda de piso y les había dado algunos consejos útiles sobre la vida en la ciudad.
Una tarde, mientras Karen leía sus mails, me fumé un cigarro con José en el patio del hostel. Aunque lo disimulaba bastante bien, él estaba lleno de miedos e incertidumbres. Temía a lo desconocido, a la dolorora posibilidad del fracaso, a esta aventura en la que se había metido, hoy sospecho que auspiciada por ella, a costa de dejar una vida relativamente cómoda en Méjico. Él era informático, o diseñador gráfico, y trabajaba para un empresa de San Diego, en California. Tenía las cosas muy fáciles el cabrón, podía seguir currando desde Barcelona, París o Tokyo, lo mismo daba. Pero aunque se repetía una y otra vez que de última, si las cosas no salían como lo esperaban, podían pegar un avión y volver a Méjico, creo que en el fondo sentía que esa vuelta sería un poco con el rabo entre las piernas y la orejitas tiradas hacia atrás, casi pidiendo perdón por su locura fallida. Esa tarde, entre calada y calada, traté de quitarle sus miedos. Le dije que si de verdad era lo que querían, no tenían por qué temer, que les iba a salir bien, que las cosas se les iban a ir presentando casi sin llamarlas. Le dije que no era fácil, pero que el riesgo de intentarlo valía la pena, sea cual fuera el resultado. Nuestra conversación duró unos cinco minutos, y terminó con la última calada.
No recuerdo la profesión de Karen. Tengo la vaga idea de que era profesora de algo, pero aquí pensaba trabajar de lo que encontrara. Le sugerí que dejara sus datos en el hostel, podía ser una buena recepcionista. No era una loba despampanante, su punto no iba por ahí, pero era pacíficamente atractiva. Recuerdo especialmente su nariz, no sé por qué.
Eran una linda pareja, se los veía bien juntos. Yo los miraba y, ya casi un axioma de mis dos años en Barcelona, encontraba a ella mejor parada que a él. He conocido muchas parejas en este tiempo, y ahora mismo puedo nombrar a una sola en la que ella no me deslumbrara más que él, la de Nati y Fede. Ellos si están equilibrados.
Unos días después de que dejaran el hostel, recibí un mail de José. Me agradecía por mi ayuda y me decía que estaban bien, y que habían encontrado un piso. Yo le contesté, alegrándome por las buenas noticias, y desde entonces hasta hoy no supe nada más de ellos.

José entró al hostal acompañado por tres amigos, más enérgico y verborrágico de lo que lo recordaba. Estaba borracho. Me dio la mano con firmeza, mirándome a los ojos, y después intercambió algunas bromas con unos norteamericanos que bebían animadamente en la sala. -Nicolás, he venido hasta aquí para saludarte, para decirte que Karen y yo estamos muy bien, y para agradecerte todo lo que has hecho por nosotros. Lo miré con cierta cautela, y le pregunté cómo iba su vida en Barcelona. Me dijo que estaban felices, que él seguía trabajando para la empresa de San Diego y que Karen había encontrado un curro.
-Y gracias a tí, que me diste ánimo cuando más lo necesitaba, ¿te acuerdas?. Este güey -dijo dirigiéndose a sus amigos- me dijo que no me preocupara, que todo iba a salir bien.
- Me alegro mucho, José.
- Porque ellos -siguió, refiriéndose a los tres que lo acompañaban en silencio- no saben lo que es esto. Pero tú sí, porque tú también lo hiciste. El güey llegó hace dos años con su novia a Londres, a Londres! -le dijo al mayor de sus amigos, un tío que rondaba los cuarenta- y cuando les quedaban treinta libras decidieron quedarse allí, y lo hicieron, buscaron un trabajo y se quedaron.
Todo era cierto, hasta la cantidad exacta, pero yo ni recordaba haberle contado esa historia en la tarde del cigarro. -Me alegro, José, qué bueno saber que todo les vaya bien. ¿Cómo está Karen?. Mis preguntas y comentarios, breves, apenas lograban convertir ese monólogo de gratitud en un diálogo de dos.
- Ella está muy bien, y yo también. Gracias Nicolás, tu eres un gran amigo, porque me ayudaste cuando más lo necesitaba, y por eso vine hoy, para agradecértelo. Y para agradecerte también que me hayas contestado el mail.
Aunque condimentadas por el alcohol, sus palabras eran sinceras. Y su mano, que estrechaba sólidamente la mía, me transmitió un afecto del que no dudé ni un momento.
-Es un buen perro -intervino por primera y única vez el mejicano de cuarenta- Un buen perro, muy emocional.
-Está bueno que me digas esto, José, muchas veces uno hace cosas sin saber lo que pueden generar en los demás.
José enfocó sus ojos vidriosos hacía mí y, como si no pudiera resistir más la emoción, me dio una palmada y giró su cara, escondiendo la primera lágrima. -Ya está, vamos, vamos -dijo a sus compañeros. Y abrazando al cuarentón, sin mirar atrás, caminó hacia la salida. Recordé eso de que el perro es el mejor amigo del hombre. "Y viceversa", pensé. Miré por última vez a José, antes de seguir trabajando. Su aventura iba bien y sus miedos casi ausentes. Me pareció que movía el rabo, de lado a lado, en señal de alegría. Pero las orejas, ay, cómo evitarlo, llevaba las orejas tiraditas hacia atrás, así, casi pidiendo perdón.

Yiniyán

Diferentes puntos de vista

Name: Meghan Gallagher
Customer ID: 8927991
email: meghan_gallagher@mac.com
Arrival Date:: 2008-02-27
Booked: 2008-01-21 11:14:57
Source: HOSTELWORLD

Hostel Review

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Comments - ACTIVE
The girl working at the desk on the morning of the 29th was incredibly rude and unwilling to help. Everything was a problem for her even though all we needed was to stow our luggage away. She felt it necessary to whine about how she had to eat her breakfast first and that it would be a huge problem to store our luggage because other people would put theirs on top of ours and we would have trouble getting it out at the end of the day. wtf?


Helartista