Sunday, February 27, 2011

Can I Make Brownies With Sweetened Cocoa

"animism or animatism?

the animism is the belief that all living beings and inanimate objects have personalities and influence in life. is to say that everything is vibrant and alive, that elements of nature such as mountains, trees, rivers, clouds, etc.. are, in their uniqueness and all, living creatures. something like that like everything that moves has its own life.
animatism other hand is that belief that gives life, intent, will and feelings similar to those of men to all inanimate objects of nature.
and although nothing to do I include in this set of isms the term animalism as that form of primarily artistic depiction of animals.
more contemporary anthropology distinguishes the first two terms by conceiving of animism as the belief in personalized beings, but disembodied, as souls, spirits or gods, and restricting animatism the attribution of consciousness and human powers, as the act of moving- to inanimate objects.

if there is something I enjoy that side of the philosophy of animism called animatism-because I think it is a form of animism. I move here I, in a sense, and all these things to other lifeless eyes, I give more effort to beat the general says they have. Animism comes from the Latin
soul, soul, and where every element of the natural world is alive.

when I write about some element or some inanimate object as inert as a chair, give him a proper name to call you by name. I beat him by inertia. my inner-conceived from the start that I relate to this "thing" - life and above all, feeling. the legs of a table are ours or those of our pets. I can see them tired, mud-stained, chipped, if you feel sad or nostalgic Saddle a table. trees can be seen from the heights down here especially when it happens, the street corners are filled with memory. the sill of the bed would have so many stories that would surprise us. stones, something as initially conceived as the inanimate object par excellence, is the one that beat it, despite being almost always away from the road. and of course, there is not a single animal that does not de-also inertia-consciousness that humans have. no religion whatsoever in these events. nothing is sacred. or gods. or magic. There is that. inertia. there is no slavery in it, quite the opposite. Open my eyes and I count my words all these elements animate or inanimate conscious and feeling want to tell me. therefore, enriches and broadens my vision, not enslaves

discards its method of Cartesian doubt decomposing complex problems into simpler parts gradually down to its basic elements. said the only thing I can not doubt is that doubt and if I doubt, and if I think I am . so with all my spinning isms, my equation would be this: everything is air and air in Latin is the Spiritus ... therefore, the same air is likewise the spirit of the air itself. and that and no one else, we breathe. therefore everything that comes to me, either through of my lungs, either through my eyes, and I get air, that is, with soul. with Spiritus. I come alive and they describe, vividly.
or maybe this is closer to something that exists and not if he could name himself as avivalismo (of fuel, or give life)

"animistic, animated, animalistic ?

* Photo: animism of the mandrake

Friday, February 25, 2011

What Kind Of Wood For Boat

a streetcar named vicky rock

one of the most memorable phrases was blanche: 've always depended on the kindness of strangers even add that axis where everything seems to turn when says as opposed to the death is the desire, "is more, I even dare to add this one sentence of my own hand and point of view: the sensitivity is a one way ticket to madness.

if we link these three sentences, we found a torn rope laying down the well of the late Blanche future. we are in a tunnel that goes through hard Streetcar Named Desire. we are caught in a car. and within the network of deep blanche, ground and handcuffed by three strands that eventually squandered all his emotions into a pulse of cultures.

yesterday we were in the English theater. we sat in the second row of that vintage tram-gas proposal mario with an always-vicky rock. whole explosion of emotions. Vicky

rock is the wolf lurking in their own forest, full of nocturnal, you scratch the back. the tarantula and conquer your patient waiting inside to put in their mouths for food. the shark near the pool of blood. the runaway horse in which we would climb over and over again. which brings with her emotions hidden our sides. is a be brutal without resorting to brute force. is an impact. is the tram that runs over and takes you forward scattering garbage on the ground we are. is the centripetal force that draws up his abdomen, his own center-all the remaining forces, external.

highly recommend going to see the play. runs through April 14 in the English theater. the last time I saw vicky rock was homebody kabul and produced in me the same strength.

confess that I only had eyes for vicky rock. I should be so emphatic when I lean

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Correct Positoning Of A Cladder Ring

l'homme qui ne marche pas impossible


slaves to our mortal world
wrists tied to what we love death
to slow down the worn
and letting go of earthly bonds

birds traveling with wind beneath its wings
trapped wind just wind


escravos do mundo
com as Nossas Mortais bonecos

tied to or love that slowly morte e não cair
drop to earth as worn

bonds viajam Pássaros you sob vento com as
handles just
vento vento apanhar

poem of the book now that the love I installed
© nuria ruiz
Viñaspre Portuguese translation: © alberto augusto miranda
photo: L'homme qui ne marche pas, 2009, © Elmgreen & Dragset
Galería Helga de Alvear at ARCO 2011 in Madrid

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Putting Toothpicks In Piercing



for me the language is pure mathematics, so the letters are numbers for me. spelling of each letter is a number. points that are supported by others are the first draft of faithful nomenclatures. All this is subject to change tenured, assuming, unrealistic results, or what is, unreal. change the equation and the result is different. each more impossible. a compound sentence is a systematic integral to my hands. and simple sentences, simple axioms. sometimes, when I open the lid, I find comprehensive axioms. intact and integrated equations that express what words mean but impossible.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Lap Band Ohip Coverage

NORMAL PROBABILITY DISTRIBUTION










Descartes probability

probability distributions


Remington 870 Mcs Case

classifications according Szymborska

lust No more thinking. Spread this fling
like weeds in the groove
prepared for the margaritas.


Nothing is sacred for those who think.
is insolent to call things by their name, the vicious
analysis, synthesis lewd
savage and vicious persecution of a naked fact, obscene
the handling of delicate issues,
friction to express opinions, in their heavenly music ears.

the full light of day or night under
together in pairs, triangles and circles.
Here anyone can be sex and age of those who play.
eyes shone, cheeks were burning.
corrupts the friend's friend.
degenerate pervert daughters to their father. A brother pimping
her younger sister.

Others are the fruit of the forbidden wish
tree of knowledge, not the pink
bottom of magazines, such as naive
pornography in the background. Les
fun books that are not illustrated.
only more enjoyable for
special phrases marked with a fingernail or a pencil.

opinion on pornography
of "People on the Bridge" 1986 version of Abel A.
Murcia


Wislawa Szymborska, Poland, 1923

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Monster Energy Bellybutton Rings

pornography in the keyhole

now are in the cycle The keyhole, organized by Drunk Lavarca . Will be on Strike C / zurita 39 - Lavapiés). At 21 h'll talk about the process of writing tables butcher, the pillars of it and the triggers that sparked the beginning and end of the book. Will include a video and a power point that will show you a very brief theatrical proposal butcher tables which opened last May, with images of costumes, rehearsals and opening night themselves (International Theatre Festival and Valladolid Arts Street) ... .. and end by reading a few poems in the book I hope


* poster image: Damien Hirst
* poster designed by lavarcaebria

Monday, February 7, 2011

Meaning On Letterman Jackets

blocks ex-convicts

yesterday, en route to the auditorium of the Queen Sofia went to see a concert that included 10 of Shostakovich quartet-boarded the metro. once in this space that my eyes will always be an unprecedented country, a tall man with his own dirty hair have spent nights on the street or under the roof of a cell, raised his voice to awaken the inner worlds of each of us travelers. We had high intimacy that seemed to walk back. recounted that just out of jail and that was his first night launched the world. under one roof. another sky. I needed some money and it cost much to have to do something to cover your under one roof body warmer than the night sky these days or drawing or graffiti from the ceiling of his cell. travel in particular seats for all of us, the girl in front of us gave him a bag with two blocks. two jingled to rub on that trip when the former inmate giver took them with some offense. to me that the girl's gesture seemed precious. engrossed me thinking about the gesture of this woman, who certainly had not had time to nibble at work that pair of fresh apples, and decided to offer these two sisters to hunger of man, before leaving to rot and die without owner or owner in that country and southern warm your bag. s. and I looked and realized that the gesture was excited too. but s. has a relation to reality much more "real" me. so when we left the subway said out loud what a shame, surely the man pulls the fruit that gave him the girl. often need money to drink and forget, so that any soft or hard drugs stop your life for a few minutes and think about your unfortunate situation.

and in the corridors of the metro, the way out, s. and I had no one ahead or one behind, but suddenly, after these words tossed in the air, s. heard a thud somewhere not far from us but invisible to our eyes. looked at me as saying that his theory and seating had just met. and with that nod having a mother when you tell your child something you see? I told you ...., sped up while watching me and left me behind. turned to the hallway to the right, next to us, "a little later the hall we walked right by," his eyes sank in the first paper he saw and the saddest raised but nothing surprised when I looked at her without understanding what he was looking he said. I told you! behold the fruit. I said that the sound he heard was compact and dry as if the weight of something like an apple would have hit a hard ground. I just dived with sad eyes to the bottom of the sea of \u200b\u200bwaste and there, sleeping alone matched and the two blocks beyond its uncertain future. those two sisters who went together, inseparable, again deserted by the father who had recently adopted. I thought the trip awaiting them in the landfill road. I thought maybe some other street prince or princess cut or elderly, could even rescue on that trip. I thought the ex-con at night under the starry sky. I thought sometimes crushing reality as the hand crushing a mosquito that bothers you in front of the face ....

we sink into the music of Shostakovich. our particular soft drugs to forget that time, leaving the abandoned ...