viernes, 30 de septiembre de 2011

I would rather be a dishwasher




“I could see the road ahead of me. I was poor and I was going to stay poor. But I didn’t particularly want money. I didn’t know what I wanted. Yes, I did. I wanted someplace to hide out, someplace where one didn’t have to do anything. The thought of being something didn’t only appall me, it sickened me . . . To do things, to be part of family picnics, Christmas, the 4th of July, Labor Day, Mother’s Day . . . was a man born just to endure those things and then die? I would rather be a dishwasher, return alone to a tiny room and drink myself to sleep.”


Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye.


The night is darkening round me




The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow ;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below ;
But nothing drear can move me :
I will not, cannot go.

Emily Brontë

domingo, 18 de septiembre de 2011

El Error del Pavo Inglés




"Si quieres saber cual es la relación que existe entre las orcas y la sacarina, esta es tu charla, y si no quieres saberlo, también lo es."

Antonio J. Osuna Mascaró




El Error del Pavo Inglés ("Blogs y Ciencia" 2010) from Antonio J. Osuna Mascaró on Vimeo.

loneliness





l(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness


E. E. Cummings


s (una
ho
ja
ca
e)
ole
d
dad

En resumidas cuentas










"Lady L., además, no había llegado nunca a considerar el bien y el mal en el comportamiento sexual de las personas. No creía que la moral se aplicara en ese nivel. Las pintadas fálicas que veía en las paredes desde la más tierna edad le parecían, aún hoy, infinitamente menos obscenas que los campos de batalla supuestamente gloriosos; la pornografía no estaba para ella en la descripción de lo que los humanos podían hacer con sus esfínteres, sino en los extremismos políticos, cuyos jugueteos ensangrentaban la tierra; las exigencias que un cliente imponía a una prostituta eran inocentes y cándidas comparadas con el sadismo de los regímenes policiales; la desinhibición de las ideas, y las perversiones eróticas eran de literatura rosa comparadas con las perversiones de los fanáticos de las ideas que llevaban al extremo sus obsesiones. En resumidas cuentas, la humanidad llegaba más fácilmente al deshonor con la cabeza que con el culo."


 Romain Gary, Lady L.


Real Duck Rabbit Illusion






What's you name, man?










"Yoyo: What's you name, man?
Helmut Grokenberger: Helmut Grokenberger.
[pointing to his cab license]
Helmut Grokenberger: Here, you can read it. That's me.
Yoyo: Helmet?
Helmut Grokenberger: Helmut.
Yoyo: That's your name?
Helmut Grokenberger: Yeah.
Yoyo: Ha ha ha ha ha. That's a fucked up name to be namin' your kid! Helmet! See, 'cause in English, a helmet would be like, you know, like something you would wear on your head, you know? You a... a helmet! Ha ha ha! In English, that would be like callin' your kid, uh, "Lampshade" or some shit like that: 'Hey, Lampshade! Come here and clean up your room!' Ha ha ha ha ha!
Helmut Grokenberger: So, what's your name?
Yoyo: Yoyo.
Helmut Grokenberger: What?
Yoyo: Yoyo. That's my name.
Helmut Grokenberger: ...is Ihr Name?
Yoyo: What? Yoyo.
Helmut Grokenberger: Yoyo. Yoyo.
[laughing]
Helmut Grokenberger: Yoyo. Yoyo, das ist Spielzeug für Kinder.
Yoyo: It ain't got nothin' to do with that. It's my name. Yoyo.
Helmut Grokenberger: It's a toy for kids, Yoyo.
Yoyo: Ain't got nothin' to do with that, man.
Helmut Grokenberger: Okay. Your name Yoyo, my name Helmut. Yoyo, Helmut. It's good."


sábado, 17 de septiembre de 2011

Lo último que seré es funambulista









"Más tarde quizá haga otra cosa. Cuando termine de ser poeta. Antes o después me quedaré sin palabras, ¿comprende? Todo el mundo tiene solamente cierto número de palabras dentro. Y, entonces, ¿dónde estaré? Creo que después me gustaría ser bombero. Y después medico. Da igual. Lo último que seré es funambulista. Cuando sea muy viejo y al fin haya aprendido a andar como las demás personas. Entonces bailaré en la cuerda floja y la gente se quedará asombrada. Incluso los niños pequeños. Eso es lo que me gustaría. Bailar en la cuerda floja hasta que me muera."

Paul Auster, La trilogía de Nueva York.


sábado, 10 de septiembre de 2011

The Quantum World



[Morgan Freeman]
So, what are we really made of?
Dig deep inside the atom
and you'll find tiny particles
Held together by invisible forces

Everything is made up
Of tiny packets of energy
Born in cosmic furnaces

[Frank Close]
The atoms that we're made of have
Negatively charged electrons
Whirling around a big bulky nucleus

[Michio Kaku]
The Quantum Theory
Offers a very different explanation
Of our world

[Brian Cox]
The universe is made of
Twelve particles of matter
Four forces of nature

That's a wonderful and significant story

[Richard Feynman]
Suppose that little things
Behaved very differently
Than anything big

Nothing's really as it seems
It's so wonderfully different
Than anything big

The world is a dynamic mess
Of jiggling things
It's hard to believe

[Kaku]
The quantum theory
Is so strange and bizarre
Even Einstein couldn't get his head around it

[Cox]
In the quantum world
The world of particles
Nothing is certain
It's a world of probabilities

[Feynman]
It's very hard to imagine
All the crazy things
That things really are like

Electrons act like waves
No they don't exactly
They act like particles
No they don't exactly

[Stephen Hawking]
We need a theory of everything
Which is still just beyond our grasp
We need a theory of everything, perhaps
The ultimate triumph of science

[Feynman]
I gotta stop somewhere
I'll leave you something to imagine


viernes, 2 de septiembre de 2011

The Art Of Clean Up


















Vía: Fubiz