Money
Power
Beauty
Intelligence
If you have at least one of those you can make it in this world. If you lack all of them most likely you'll die alone and forgotten... So if you have one or more of those make the most of it and if you don't, try to get one to make it in this life because most likely, it's the only one you'll have in this world.
(Or maybe love could save your existence. Hatred surely won't)
Showing posts with label |[]|. Show all posts
Showing posts with label |[]|. Show all posts
A reflection
Thursday, June 09, 2011
And an apology / Y una disculpa.
"Ben, you are impossible. Your opinions have a slap in them for everyone who differs with you. They have become so expensive that nobody cares for them. Your friends find they enjoy themselves better when you are not around. You know so much that no man can tell you anything. Indeed, no man is going to try, for the effort would lead only to discomfort and hard work. So you are not likely to ever know any more than you do now, which is very little."
/
"Ben, eres imposible. Tus opiniones son como una cachetada para quien difiera contigo. Tan es así, que ya a nadie interesan tus opiniones. Tus amigos van descubriendo que lo pasan mejor cuando no estás con ellos. Sabes tanto, que nadie te puede decir nada. Por cierto que nadie va a intentarlo siquiera, porque ese esfuerzo sólo le produciría incomodidades y trabajos. Por tal razón, es probable que jamás llegues a saber más de lo que sabes ahora, que es muy poco."
------------------
And so, I apologize to my friends, I apologize to you / Y entonces, me disculpo con mis amigos, me disculpo contigo.
"Ben, you are impossible. Your opinions have a slap in them for everyone who differs with you. They have become so expensive that nobody cares for them. Your friends find they enjoy themselves better when you are not around. You know so much that no man can tell you anything. Indeed, no man is going to try, for the effort would lead only to discomfort and hard work. So you are not likely to ever know any more than you do now, which is very little."
/
"Ben, eres imposible. Tus opiniones son como una cachetada para quien difiera contigo. Tan es así, que ya a nadie interesan tus opiniones. Tus amigos van descubriendo que lo pasan mejor cuando no estás con ellos. Sabes tanto, que nadie te puede decir nada. Por cierto que nadie va a intentarlo siquiera, porque ese esfuerzo sólo le produciría incomodidades y trabajos. Por tal razón, es probable que jamás llegues a saber más de lo que sabes ahora, que es muy poco."
------------------
And so, I apologize to my friends, I apologize to you / Y entonces, me disculpo con mis amigos, me disculpo contigo.
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u2 - Una vez más.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Si todo sale bien, el próximo año estare de nuevo en el estadio Azteca viendo y escuchando a u2. La vez anterior fue hace unos 5 años para el Vertigo Tour. En el primer concierto el cual todavía recuerdo como un sueño cumplido (por pequeño que parezca) y una de las mejores noches de mi vida, acompañado de un amigo (y sus amigos), nosotros y unos 90,000 fanaticos más cantamos, escuchamos y vibramos por unas dos horas escuchando a la mejor banda de rock del mundo (a nuestro ver). Antes que ellos por supuesto, los teloneros que fueron "The Secret Machines" y aunque al principio no estábamos muy con ellos porque no los conocíamos, para cuando terminaron su set "¡Somos... las Máquinas Secretas...!" quedamos muy satisfechos y puedo decir que hasta ahora me encanta su música. Pasando nuevamente a u2, no recordaba bien el set (que creo fue también inmejorable) pero parece que ya lo he hallado y sí, me parece que sí es... con todo y Miss Sarajevo y Bono cantando la parte que le toca a Pavarotti y el "Cielito Lindo" y un momento en que Bono se disculpó por no haber regresado antes (gracias a "zedillito" que logró enfurecer tanto a la banda como para que no regresaran en tantos años....) Una noche con emoción más intensa que esa, creo que recuerdo únicamente la de nuestra boda... Y eso es decir mucho. Y como igual se dice desde hace mucho que recordar es volver a vivir, aquí recuerdo lo que esa noche escuchamos...
City Of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
Elevation
Mysterious Ways
Until The End Of The World
New Year's Day
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Beautiful Day (Cielito Lindo)
Norwegian Wood / Original Of The Species
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Love And Peace Or Else
Sunday Bloody Sunday / Bullet The Blue Sky (When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again) / The Hands That Built America
Miss Sarajevo
Pride [In The Name Of Love]
Where The Streets Have No Name
One (Unchained Melody)
--- Encore ---
Zoo Station
The Fly
With Or Without You
All Because Of You
Yahweh
"40"
---------------------------------------------
Ese concierto no hubiera sido posible para mi ni mi amigo (y sus amigos) sin la ayuda de Miriam S. Eriksen, la cual por el momento al parecer no está disponible...
Como decía antes, si todo sale bien...
En aquella ocasión, logré el boleto más caro disponible y considero que un inmejorable lugar. Esta vez, el lugar no será tan bueno pero espero no decepcione. Antes que nada, espero poder lograrlo nuevamente, esta vez en compañía de alguien muy especial en mi vida.
Con un poco más de buena suerte...
City Of Blinding Lights
Vertigo
Elevation
Mysterious Ways
Until The End Of The World
New Year's Day
I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
Beautiful Day (Cielito Lindo)
Norwegian Wood / Original Of The Species
Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own
Love And Peace Or Else
Sunday Bloody Sunday / Bullet The Blue Sky (When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again) / The Hands That Built America
Miss Sarajevo
Pride [In The Name Of Love]
Where The Streets Have No Name
One (Unchained Melody)
--- Encore ---
Zoo Station
The Fly
With Or Without You
All Because Of You
Yahweh
"40"
---------------------------------------------
Ese concierto no hubiera sido posible para mi ni mi amigo (y sus amigos) sin la ayuda de Miriam S. Eriksen, la cual por el momento al parecer no está disponible...
Como decía antes, si todo sale bien...
En aquella ocasión, logré el boleto más caro disponible y considero que un inmejorable lugar. Esta vez, el lugar no será tan bueno pero espero no decepcione. Antes que nada, espero poder lograrlo nuevamente, esta vez en compañía de alguien muy especial en mi vida.
Con un poco más de buena suerte...
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The Empty World
Monday, April 20, 2009
As stiff as toys
And tall as men
And swaying like the wind torn trees
She talked about the empty world
With eyes like poisoned birds
She talked about the armies
That marched inside her head
And how they made her dreams go bad
But oh how happy she was
How proud she was
To be fighting in the war
In the empty world
As stiff as toys
And tall as men
And swaying like the wind torn trees
She talked about the empty world
With eyes like poisoned birds
R.S.
And tall as men
And swaying like the wind torn trees
She talked about the empty world
With eyes like poisoned birds
She talked about the armies
That marched inside her head
And how they made her dreams go bad
But oh how happy she was
How proud she was
To be fighting in the war
In the empty world
As stiff as toys
And tall as men
And swaying like the wind torn trees
She talked about the empty world
With eyes like poisoned birds
R.S.
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About Beauty
Thursday, March 19, 2009
"Que no son despreciables los eximios presentes de los dioses y nadie puede escogerlos a su gusto".
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Between Mind & Heart
Sunday, February 01, 2009
It's hard to find the balance when you are in love. You're lost in the middle because you have to decide between mind & heart. HEART is the engine of your body but BRAIN is the engine of life.
-----
M.C.
-----
M.C.
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"I must"
Monday, November 03, 2008
I feel, as if some heavy object were pressing down on me. My head is covered with something black and fearful. Above, there is no sky, only layer upon layer of some dark and opressive matter. Where does this feeling come from?
At times I feel like a lamp over the gate of a house, lit before sundown. The dim, orange light burns helplessly behind the blue frosted glass, waiting for the dark to give it brightness. Wait passively, that is all I can do. But this light wants desperately to burst into flame and burn everything around it. It does not want to remain so feeble, a prisoner behind the frosted glass. If only a storm would come and smash the glass, and let the flame reach up to the wooden eaves and envelop all in its fiery arms.
I must start working seriously. I live and work as though I were in a tight box, I feel so constrainted. I must learn to feel free, free to do what I want with a sense of purpose and comfort and generosity. I want to walk with a firm step, swinging my arms, not with such timidity and purposelessness as I do now. I mustn't hurry, but I mustn't stop. and I can't be like the feeble light wishfully waiting for the coming of the storm.
I must not seek peace in resignation. I must not throw away anything, I must not give in, I must find peace and satisfaction in having always tried. There is no death for anyone who has done something that is immortal. I do not mean only those in the arts---not any more---but scientists as well. I don't know much about the Curies. But I am sure that no matter what fate befalls them, what they have done for mankind will always give them the strenght to survive, a peace of mind and satisfaction hat no accident can touch. I want to have that peace of mind, that comfort. I want to see what no one else has seen, I want to hear what no one else has heard, I want to feel as no one else has felt.
I do not want to think that the fate that awaits this planet will neccessarily determine the fate of mankind. The other animals do not know what fate will befall our planet. Only man knows, and only man fights against it. And behind his instinctive, insatiable ambition is this blind will to resist his fate. The conscious part of man acknowledges the inevitability of his end. But this blind will in him completely refuses to do so.
Man progressed as earth's condition improved, as it became more congenial to him. And when earth's condition at last begins gradually to worsen, as earth becomes colder and drier, so will man begin to decline; and then, with the death o he very last, solitary human being on earth, our race will come to its end. Not only man, but all other species, too, will become extinct one by one, and all our remains will lie buried under the ice. This is no wild fancy. All living things will as a matter of course meet this dreadful, inescapable fate. But will man---this nervous, struggling creature so committed to progress almost without purpose---ever learn to accept such a fate obediently? Perhaps he will. Perhaps when the condition of this planet has deteriorated and man himself has become a lesser creature, when our descendants gaze without sympathy or understanding upon the strange, useless things that their ancestors had built---at what cost these creatures will never know---perhaps then, man, now without mind or hope, will passively accept his end. But until such time, he will continue his search, perhaps in the name of progress, for a way to forestall his doom.
Women bear children and men do their chosen work. This constitutes human life. In primitive times, all that a man had to do was work for the happiness of his own immediate family or of his village. Then gradually the notion of the tribe was extended until in Japan it came to be the feudal domain. And later this was replaced by the nation, which in turn was extended to include the race, then finally to mankind at large.
Our notion of immortality, too, undergoes a similar process of extension. As children we care only about our own individual, bodily immortality; that is the only kind that has any emotional meaning for us then. (And even now I dread death.) Bu as we grow, our own personal immortality comes to have less and less meaning. We come to have no faith in it. Insead we seek satisfaction in the work we do, hoping that at least will remain, hoping that though we as individuals will die, our own species will continue forever. Perhaps we may eventually reach a point when we are delivered from this hope. There are indeed faiths in which such deliverance is offered. Be that as it may, men instinctively strive for progress no matter what they do. Often, this strife becomes a blind obsession, the end becomes forgotten, and what is reapec in the name of progress is unhappiness for mankind. But no matter what the result may be, the driving force behind this strife is the desire for immortality for the human race, the terrible need to deny the inevitability of its fate. I remember the day when for the first time in Japan an airplane was flown. The pilot's name was Marse. As I watched the plan taxiing along the ground, then suddenly rise into the air, I found myself moved almost to tears. Where did this emotion come from? I suppose the excitement of the crowd around me was partly responsible. But there was something besides that. After all, I have not been equally moved when all alone I have read accounts in the newspaper of great scientific discoveries? And I think that at such times, it is the human will within me, hidden from my consciousness, that is responding.
We all know that mankind will eventually disappear. But this knowledge does not bring despair to our daily lives. Sometimes, it is true, when we contemplate the destiny of the human race, we may feel unbearably forlorn. But this forlornness is the kind we feel when we think about infinity. The strange thing is that while we recognize the inevitability of man's extinction, we ignore it emotionally. And the desperate struggle for progress continues. Is this not because somewhere in us is the hope that man may somehow escape the destiny of this very planet? And is there not some great subconscious will at work in all of us, the will that this hope shall be realized?
Tokitō Kensaku.
At times I feel like a lamp over the gate of a house, lit before sundown. The dim, orange light burns helplessly behind the blue frosted glass, waiting for the dark to give it brightness. Wait passively, that is all I can do. But this light wants desperately to burst into flame and burn everything around it. It does not want to remain so feeble, a prisoner behind the frosted glass. If only a storm would come and smash the glass, and let the flame reach up to the wooden eaves and envelop all in its fiery arms.
I must start working seriously. I live and work as though I were in a tight box, I feel so constrainted. I must learn to feel free, free to do what I want with a sense of purpose and comfort and generosity. I want to walk with a firm step, swinging my arms, not with such timidity and purposelessness as I do now. I mustn't hurry, but I mustn't stop. and I can't be like the feeble light wishfully waiting for the coming of the storm.
I must not seek peace in resignation. I must not throw away anything, I must not give in, I must find peace and satisfaction in having always tried. There is no death for anyone who has done something that is immortal. I do not mean only those in the arts---not any more---but scientists as well. I don't know much about the Curies. But I am sure that no matter what fate befalls them, what they have done for mankind will always give them the strenght to survive, a peace of mind and satisfaction hat no accident can touch. I want to have that peace of mind, that comfort. I want to see what no one else has seen, I want to hear what no one else has heard, I want to feel as no one else has felt.
I do not want to think that the fate that awaits this planet will neccessarily determine the fate of mankind. The other animals do not know what fate will befall our planet. Only man knows, and only man fights against it. And behind his instinctive, insatiable ambition is this blind will to resist his fate. The conscious part of man acknowledges the inevitability of his end. But this blind will in him completely refuses to do so.
Man progressed as earth's condition improved, as it became more congenial to him. And when earth's condition at last begins gradually to worsen, as earth becomes colder and drier, so will man begin to decline; and then, with the death o he very last, solitary human being on earth, our race will come to its end. Not only man, but all other species, too, will become extinct one by one, and all our remains will lie buried under the ice. This is no wild fancy. All living things will as a matter of course meet this dreadful, inescapable fate. But will man---this nervous, struggling creature so committed to progress almost without purpose---ever learn to accept such a fate obediently? Perhaps he will. Perhaps when the condition of this planet has deteriorated and man himself has become a lesser creature, when our descendants gaze without sympathy or understanding upon the strange, useless things that their ancestors had built---at what cost these creatures will never know---perhaps then, man, now without mind or hope, will passively accept his end. But until such time, he will continue his search, perhaps in the name of progress, for a way to forestall his doom.
Women bear children and men do their chosen work. This constitutes human life. In primitive times, all that a man had to do was work for the happiness of his own immediate family or of his village. Then gradually the notion of the tribe was extended until in Japan it came to be the feudal domain. And later this was replaced by the nation, which in turn was extended to include the race, then finally to mankind at large.
Our notion of immortality, too, undergoes a similar process of extension. As children we care only about our own individual, bodily immortality; that is the only kind that has any emotional meaning for us then. (And even now I dread death.) Bu as we grow, our own personal immortality comes to have less and less meaning. We come to have no faith in it. Insead we seek satisfaction in the work we do, hoping that at least will remain, hoping that though we as individuals will die, our own species will continue forever. Perhaps we may eventually reach a point when we are delivered from this hope. There are indeed faiths in which such deliverance is offered. Be that as it may, men instinctively strive for progress no matter what they do. Often, this strife becomes a blind obsession, the end becomes forgotten, and what is reapec in the name of progress is unhappiness for mankind. But no matter what the result may be, the driving force behind this strife is the desire for immortality for the human race, the terrible need to deny the inevitability of its fate. I remember the day when for the first time in Japan an airplane was flown. The pilot's name was Marse. As I watched the plan taxiing along the ground, then suddenly rise into the air, I found myself moved almost to tears. Where did this emotion come from? I suppose the excitement of the crowd around me was partly responsible. But there was something besides that. After all, I have not been equally moved when all alone I have read accounts in the newspaper of great scientific discoveries? And I think that at such times, it is the human will within me, hidden from my consciousness, that is responding.
We all know that mankind will eventually disappear. But this knowledge does not bring despair to our daily lives. Sometimes, it is true, when we contemplate the destiny of the human race, we may feel unbearably forlorn. But this forlornness is the kind we feel when we think about infinity. The strange thing is that while we recognize the inevitability of man's extinction, we ignore it emotionally. And the desperate struggle for progress continues. Is this not because somewhere in us is the hope that man may somehow escape the destiny of this very planet? And is there not some great subconscious will at work in all of us, the will that this hope shall be realized?
Tokitō Kensaku.
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