Broken dolls

That night was different, so different that he decided to go out looking for him. He didn't remember how I told him he'd be dressed, just a place and an hour. He took a light shower to take off the sticky sweat from the hot summer night, called for a taxi and waited. While he waited, he thought about what it would be like to be a unknown person who had dared to stay with her the first night and after a brief exchange of words through the computer.

Yes, definitely, she liked to play on the edge of the precipice and feel that feeling, incomprehensible, of vertigo, that no experience made her feel it, but would he like that?

That aspect, in fact, mattered little or nothing to him. She only cared about enjoying that rapturous experience that completely overwhelmed her.

He got up, went to his darkroom where he kept all his toys, took the handcuffs, his black latex suit, the steel clamps, the balls and the short whip. When he grabbed the two-edged knife, a smile was drawn on his lips and a chill went all over his body, then he set out.

Today I would play again with another doll that, surely, at dawn, would end up broken at the bottom of a ravine.

That's how he liked to play her.

Image source: Pixabay

La belleza asoma por cualquier rendija

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La belleza de la naturaleza asoma por cualquier parte, a donde quieras que mires ahí está.

The beauty of nature can be seen everywhere, wherever you look it is.

Espantapájaros

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Los espantapájaros también tienen su peculiaridad.

The narrative structure in your Steemit posts

)

The life is a narrative structure; we are born, we develop and we die, although some think that we are only energy and that we transform ourselves to be part of other universes yet to know, but that is another story.

Here at Steemit, I read all I can and I find many entries that do not have any kind of narrative structure, but are a correlation of words and arguments with some hidden meaning that I do not understand; in fact we are bored because what does not have that narrative structure is not understood.

We human beings are accustomed to being told stories with a certain narrative structure and which is none other than that which is formed by the planning, the knot and the conclusion, because we understand it better and because we see that everything around us has a similar structure.

Aristotle put it many years ago, because he understood that the brain of human beings is structured to understand the world in this way. The world is governed by this structure, no longer narrative but vital. If you look around you will soon realize that this structure is there and we just have to stop and observe it;

In nature nothing begins at the end, as I said before, everything has a beginning, a development and an end.

Focusing on the issue at hand, if you look closely, the messages that try to communicate something, have that structure; news, films, series, advertisements, messages, opinion articles, novels, stories. Everything!

Therefore, when preparing your entries you have to take into account this structure so that what you want to tell is better understood and because many readers will not give you another chance of a second reading.

To do this you have to be very clear about what you want to tell before you start writing. If you're not clear, don't even try, you'll get a bad article and you'll have wasted your precious time.

For example, if you are going to talk about the future of the Steem, you have to make a small introduction (planning) of what the Steem is, then (knot) a short history of how it has gone in recent years, the ups and downs, the problems it has had, etc. and finalize (end) with your prediction about the future of this cryptomonet, because we all expect your final verdict.

Also, I have to say, there are those who play with that structure, starting, for example, at the end. You could start the article by saying:

Dear friends, I am going to give you some bad news: Steem will not exist at the end of 2018.

With this kind of strategy you have to be very careful, because they can stop reading the second paragraph if you are not able to keep the readers' attention.

Therefore, it is necessary to take into account the narrative structure before starting to write and after finishing our entry, give it a review to see if it is inside the structure.

Never forget the narrative structure; your readers, unconsciously, are asking you for it.

Image source: Pixabay

La primavera a la vuelta de la esquina

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Ya se escuchan los pasos de la primavera y los primeros que se escuchan son los de las flores.

It's fucked up to be dead.

The first impression was frightening, because Paco did not want to die and death came to him, suddenly, without knowing how or why. But the truth is, he was deader than a dried squid.

Without knowing very well why, he could see all that was happening on that fateful day.

His body was there, in the Funeral Home El Último Camino, which had more than three thousand square meters with all the best and latest advances for the living because the dead did not care so much about paraphernalia, the day when worms eat you.

Without thinking about it, he decided to take a stroll around the estancia and was surprised to find himself dead, of course, he had never seen himself like this, lying in a coffin made of Finnish pine, perfectly finished and in his best suit, the black one, with grey stripes that always gave him such a formal look, the matching tie and the black shoes. He approached to see himself up close, and how handsome he was! The morticians had done a good job because he, he had to admit, wasn't so handsome, rather throwing away almost attractive.

He continued his round of reconnaissance, and approached his wife, crying in a corner, stopped for a moment to try and kiss her, but he could not, wanted to touch her, but could not either.

It was fucked up about being dead.

He stood in the center of the room, raised his head to see who had come to see him off. But there were so many people, there was little I could do. But this thing of being dead has its advantages, and just thinking about it, it was seen levitating over the heads of all those who were in the room. He recognized his brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins and cousins, friends and girlfriends. In an isolated chair, he saw Renata who had come so far to say goodbye. Ugh, Renata. Could the dead get horny? No, they couldn't.

It sucked to be dead.

Renata, that female, brunette, with a sensual mouth, with a captivating body, tender kisses and a better lover. She had met her five months ago, by sheer coincidence, while fighting with an ill-mannered taxi driver on a rainy day, which left her stranded in the city of a thousand skyscrapers, while the rain and tears made mascara run. And he went out to the rescue, to the best rescue of his life.

He sat in front of her, looking at her for the last time and remembering her kisses, hugs, caresses and purring cat in heat, but her memories were already a nebula that was dissipating. The murmurs and cries interrupted his dreaming. He got up and saw that everything was over because his precious coffin, his best suit, his best shoes, his best memories and even his best memories were going to burn until they were reduced to the finest ashes.

He sat in the front row, beside his wife and brothers, watching as the fire devoured him like a hungry beast, taking away for ever all that had been before. Now, of him, there was nothing left but a few memories in the living. He tried to remember the words of his writer friend, who was still writing against all odds, that life is a fire and begins with the first breath of life. Yeah, his fire was already out. Now another one started, although I didn't know what it would be like.

Image source: Pixabay

Pez globo gigante

No pude resistirme a sacarle una foto a este pez globo gigante que está en un centro comercial de Las Palmas de Gran Canaria.

Your prison

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There is no doubt that we are setting our own limits and our own bars and building our own prisons. It is up to us not to become prisoners of ourselves. That is why we have to work, every day, with our inner self to avoid becoming our jailers.

Fósil vegetal II

Siguiendo con la serie de fósiles vegetales que me encontré en los ladrillos de un centro comercial, aquí les dejo otra fotografía que saqué ayer, en la que se ve, claramente, el dibujo de una planta.

Fósil vegetal en un ladrillo

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Este fósil vegetal me lo encontré en un ladrillo de un centro comercial.

The untouchables and the miserable

For some businessmen and politicians, society is made up of untouchables and miserable people. I can understand that. For them, the untouchables are those who are part of the economic and political power that are above the procedures that are articulated to bring to a successful conclusion the equidistant application of justice.

And the wretched ones, from their particular point of view, are the rest of mortals, who, when they have an account of justice, have no choice but to comply with the injunctions, whatever they may be, and they seriously endure their own sail, navigating, hopelessly, against the wind and tide and, in some cases, the seafood.

These characters, the untouchables, of course, when they are touched by the robes of the Law, move heaven and earth to prevent them from being brought before the judges and always come to the easy, but very Machiavellian way out, to say that they are being persecuted by I do not know what factual powers that only seek their personal, professional and political discredit.

Some have even complained about the treatment and ways in which they have been brought before the Law, and have denounced their situation, using all their media weapons to defend what cannot be defended, arguing that this state of affairs will undoubtedly lead us to economic bankruptcy because investors are fleeing in fear of this scenario.

It should be remembered that when a judge makes the decision to take a person to court, he does not do so because he got up that morning in a certain way, but on the basis of facts and evidence from police investigations, and not on a morning whim.

Even some businessmen and politicians who have been brought before the courts of justice feel annoyed by the forms, arguing that it could have been done in another way. But these businessmen, these politicians and some of those who have expressed their opinion on this issue forget that the courts of law must, above all, ensure compliance with the law. Judicial decisions are considered, assessed and taken into account in many ways. Even, going further and not to hurt susceptibilities, that when they stop people, who are part of the rest of mortals -the miserable ones- they are not less taken into account.

Justice, my lords, is the same for everyone, whether we like it or not, whether we have more or less money or more or less power. If justice were to make distinctions, it would have long ago lost the fabric that covers its face, but thanks to our democracy, it continues to function independently, even if some people try, whether active or passive, to twist this principle.

Image source: Pixabay

Ya tengo tus huesos

Ya tengo tus huesos de pozo y luna oscura,
los olvidados en las crónicas amarillas de los azules,
los enterrados en el silencio de la oscuridad de la barbarie,
los escondidos por las manos asesinas.

Ya tengo tu cráneo,
con dos agujeros negros que se tragaron tu futuro y tu sonrisa,
con dos ojos cerrados para siempre,
con dos orificios de rabia y ceguera,
con dos impactos para callar tu palabra libertaria.

Ya tengo tu recuerdo,
aquel que quedó en las fotografías del blanco y negro,
aquel que me entregaron con palabras eternas,
aquel que construí con el agua de los pozos de esperanza.

Ya tengo un lugar donde enterrarte,
allí, donde siempre crecerán las margaritas silvestres,
alejados de los pozos oscuros, de las simas y de las cunetas,
un lugar para descansar de la sinrazón de los monstruos,
donde esculpirán tu nombre con el cincel de la justicia.

Ya tengo tus huesos; ya se hizo justicia.

Fuente de la imagen: propia

Esperando por mejores tiempos

Siempre esperamos mejores tiempos para navegar.

We always expect better sailing times.

I arrived at the hotel on schedule, after almost ten hours of flight. While I was waiting for my reception, I thought of the meeting that was scheduled for the next day at 10 a. m. and that I had time to rest a little and read the contract documents for the umpteenth time.
Then I saw an orange fish that was in a fishbowl at the reception desk and next to it a small sign saying:

Alone in your room and you want company? Rent a fish. 3,5 €/night.

I spent a few seconds reflecting on what the managers of the hotel chain would be thinking to offer a fish as a companion animal, perhaps because it was aseptic. If I had to choose an animal, I would choose a dog or perhaps a cat or a ferret, but a fish?
Then I thought that, if the renting of the fish was a subliminal message from the hotel chain against prostitution, because it is well known that, in the big Asian cities, where businesses of all kinds are closed, there is a large market, very profitable, connected with prostitution.
I didn't give the matter any more thought and when the receptionist took care of me, after giving him my personal details, I rented the fish. She smiled at me and told me that they would take it along with the suitcases.
Already in the room I took a shower, got dressed and went down to dinner. Already in the room I took a shower, got dressed and went down to dinner. After dinner I went to the hotel bar to drink a 20 year old rum. I deserved it. Without my job, the contract we were going to sign the next morning would never have been closed. While I was drinking the rum, I realized that there was a woman who kept an eye on me and smiled at me. She was dressed like an executive, she was a brunette with very short hair. I continued to enjoy my drink, until the brunette approached me, left the briefcase on the floor and said to me in a tired voice:

"In your room or mine?"

I stayed a few moments without knowing what to answer.
"We have spent more than half an hour with complicit glances and smiles. I am very tired. I've had an exhausting day. I haven't stopped since ten in the morning. One meeting after another and I'd like to relax a little bit. I've been watching you since you walked in and I like you. You want some more explanation?"
"No, I don't want any more explanation. It's just that this is the first time something like this has happened to me. I'm not used to it."
"You are not accustomed to us women being the ones to take the initiative and perhaps you prefer a period of flirtation, but I really do not feel like it. I want to have my last drink and then fuck a little bit and then go to bed. Tomorrow I have an equally or more hard day ahead of me. This is my last proposal. I'll tell you, I don't usually do this. If I remember correctly, this is the second time I've done it. The first one was in Sydney, a few years ago and I liked the experience. What do you say?"
"Well, let's have a few drinks and then we'll see. Okay? All right?"
"Okay, I see you're old school. Shall we go to your room or mine?"
"I don't care."
"For in yours then. Give me about 20 minutes to go to my room and take a shower and drop off my stuff. Which room are you in?2
"721 st."
"Perfect. Order me a gin-tonic with a little slice of lemon."
"Okay. I'll wait for you."
"By the way, my name is Carmen, although everyone knows me as Carmela."
"Nice to meet you, Carmela. My name is Juan Alberto."
"I like your name. See you in a few minutes, Juan Alberto."
I finished my rum, as I watched the brunette get lost in the hotel lounge heading for the elevators.
Then I went upstairs, ordered another rum for myself and a gin and tonic for Carmela. As I waited, I stared for a moment at the fish I had rented and thought that in the end I was not going to spend the night alone with him, but with a magnificent company.
Carmela and I spent a night of scandal, drank and had sex as if there were no tomorrow, until we fell asleep. A wild and unforgettable night.
When I woke up Carmela was gone. He didn't leave me his cell phone number or even a miserable note.
I took a shower, got dressed and before leaving the room I looked at the orange fish that was swimming, placidly, in the thirty square centimetres of its tank. I thought of the €3.5 I had spent on his rent that had been wasted, just to increase the hotel chain's profit and loss account.
However, a month after I was at home, I received my credit card statement and there was a charge I recognized, but it wasn't at all in accordance with the amount.

Rent a fish: 503,50 €.

I thought it was due to a mistake and I knew that my company would not take care of that expense, because it only paid for the room and board.

Without giving him much thought, I called the hotel to ask the reason for this exorbitant figure.

I had to speak with a nice lady who listened attentively to my complaint. Then he told me that this was an extraordinary service offered by the hotel, which not only consisted of renting the fish in question, but that, by renting it, I would accept a flirting game with a lady of company and that I would only be charged to my account, if that flirtation went further, as it did with Carmela.

I told her, outraged, that I remembered that I signed the rental document for the fish, but that nowhere was there any talk of the game she was telling me about. The woman, in a charming tone, told me that I had not read the fine print at the end of the document she had signed. She was absolutely right; I hadn't read it.

When I hung up the phone I was almost determined to denounce the hotel, but I remembered Carmela and that spectacular night. I smiled. I told myself that, in the end, it was the money best spent €503.50 in a very long time and only live once and so I let it run.

Image source: Facebook

Retazos de primavera

Los colores de la primavera ya están aquí.

Este espectacular campo de margaritas es el anuncio de que la primavera casi ya está aquí.

La hermosura de las flores

La naturaleza tiene preciosas manifestaciones, pero las más impresionantes son las flores.

Nature has beautiful manifestations, but the most impressive are the flowers.

I always liked fresh blood

Filthy bug!

That was the scream I heard when I got hit. Then I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I didn't know where he was. I tried to stand up, but I couldn't. I still had the familiar taste of blood in my mouth, that typical taste, which when you savor them you can't stop. I recognize him. I like the taste of blood.
Soon I was able to recover. I was lying on the kitchen table and his words were still ringing in my brain:

Filthy bug!

I heard his voice in the distance, as if he were entertained somewhere in his closet. I'm sure he considered me dead. The hit that hit me was direct and hard, but how wrong I was. I got up again with great difficulty. My legs were shaking and I couldn't see clearly. I sat at the table until I was fully recovered.

Without hesitating for a moment, I headed towards him. I went through the kitchen and into the living room. He was sitting in front of the TV. I was only interested in his neck, because the smell of blood called me. I stealthily approached, trying to make as little noise as possible. The sound always ends up betraying us. I landed near her jugular and sucked her blood again, because we, the tiger mosquitoes, always liked blood, even if we lose our lives because of it. We, like the scorpions, do not control our character.
This time he didn't even notice my presence and I was able to suck his blood to his liking, until I got fed up and flew to find another propitiatory victim.

Image source: Pixabay

Alquila un pez

Llegué al hotel a la hora prevista, después de casi diez horas de vuelo. Mientras esperaba a que me atendieran en la recepción, pensé en la reunión que estaba programada para el siguiente día a las diez de la mañana y que tenía tiempo de descansar un poco y leerme, por enésima vez, los documentos del contrato.
Después me llamó la atención un pez naranja que estaba en una pecera en el mostrador de la recepción y junto a él un pequeño cartel que decía:

¿Solo en tu habitación y quieres compañía? Alquila un pez. 3,5 €/noche.

Me quedé unos segundos reflexionando en qué estarían pensando los gerentes de la cadena hotelera para ofrecer un pez como animal de compañía, quizás porque era de lo más aséptico. Yo, si tuviera que elegir un animal, elegiría un perro o quizás un gato o un hurón, pero ¿un pez?
Después pensé que, si el alquiler del pez era un mensaje subliminar de la cadena hotelera en contra de la prostitución, porque es sabido que, en las grandes ciudades asiáticas, en las que se cierran negocios de toda índole, hay un gran mercado, muy rentable, relacionado con la prostitución, las mal llamadas mujeres de compañía.
No le di más vueltas al asunto y cuando me atendió la recepcionista, después de darle mis datos personales, alquilé el pez. Ella me sonrió y me dijo que me lo llevarían junto con las maletas.
Ya en la habitación me di una ducha, me vestí y bajé a cenar. Después de la cena me fui al bar del hotel a tomarme un ron solo, de veinte años. Me lo merecía. Sin mi trabajo jamás se hubiera cerrado el contrato que íbamos a firmar la mañana siguiente. Mientras me tomaba el ron me percaté de que había una mujer que no me quitaba ojo y que me sonreía. Vestía como una ejecutiva, era morena, con el pelo muy corto. Yo seguí disfrutando de mi bebida, hasta que la morena se me acercó, dejó el maletín en el suelo y me dijo con voz cansada:
—¿En tu habitación o en la mía?
Me quedé unos instantes sin saber qué contestar.
—Llevamos más de media hora con miradas cómplices y sonrisitas. Yo estoy muy cansada. He tenido un día agotador. No he parado desde las diez de la mañana. Una reunión tras otra y me gustaría relajarme un poco. Te llevo observando desde que entraste y me gustas. ¿Quieres alguna explicación más?
—No, no quiero ninguna explicación más. Es que es la primera vez que me pasa algo así. No estoy acostumbrado.
—Ya, es lógico, no estás acostumbrado a que seamos las mujeres las que tomemos la iniciativa y quizás prefieres un periodo de flirteo, pero, la verdad, no tengo ganas. Quiero tomarme la última copa y luego echar un buen polvo para irme a dormir. Mañana me espera un día igual de duro o más. Esta es mi última propuesta. Te diré que esto no lo hago habitualmente. Si mal no recuerdo es la segunda vez que lo hago. La primera fue en Sídney, hace ya algunos años y me gustó la experiencia. ¿Qué dices?
—Bien, nos tomamos unas copas y después veremos. ¿Te parece?
—Me parece bien, ya veo que eres de la vieja escuela. ¿Vamos a tu habitación o la mia?
—Me da igual.
—Pues en la tuya entonces. Dame unos veinte minutos para ir a mi habitación a darme una ducha y dejar mis cosas. ¿En qué habitación estás?
—En la 721.
—Perfecto. Pídeme un gin-tonic sencillo con una rodajita de limón.
—Vale. Te espero.
—Por cierto, me llamo Carmen, aunque todo el mundo me conoce como Carmela.
—Encantado, Carmela. Yo me llamo Juan Alberto.
—Me gusta tu nombre. Nos vemos en unos minutos, Juan Alberto.
Yo me acabé mi ron, mientras veía como la morena se perdía por el salón del hotel con dirección a los ascensores.
Al poco subí, pedí otro ron para mí y un gin-tonic para Carmela. Mientras esperaba me quedé mirando durante un momento al pez que había alquilado y pensé que al final no iba a pasar la noche solo con él, sino con una magnífica compañía.
Carmela y yo pasamos una noche de escándalo, bebimos y nos entregamos al sexo como si no hubiera un mañana, hasta que caímos rendidos en la cama. Una noche salvaje e inolvidable.
Cuando me desperté Carmela ya no estaba. No me dejó el número de su teléfono móvil ni siquiera una mísera nota.
Me duché, me vestí y antes de dejar la habitación detuve la mirada en el pez naranja que nadaba, plácidamente, en los treinta centímetros cuadrados de su pecera. Pensé en los 3,5 € que me había gastado en su alquiler que no habían servido para nada, solo para incrementar la cuenta de resultados de la cadena hotelera.
Sin embargo, al mes de estar en mi casa, recibí el extracto de mi tarjeta de crédito y había un cargo que reconocía, pero que no estaba, en absoluto, de acuerdo con el importe.

Rent a fish: 503,50 €.

Pensé que se debía a un error y sabía que mi empresa no se haría cargo de ese gasto, porque solo pagaba la habitación y las dietas de manutención.
Sin darle muchas vueltas, llamé al hotel para preguntar el porqué de ese apunte tan desorbitado.
Me tocó hablar con una señora simpática y que escuchó con atención mi reclamación. Luego me dijo que ese era un servicio extraordinario que ofrecía el hotel, que no solo consistía en alquilar el pez en cuestión, sino que, al alquilarlo, aceptaba un juego de flirteo con una señorita de compañía y que solo se me pasaba el cargo a mi cuenta, si ese flirteo iba más allá, como así fue.
Le dije, indignado, que recordaba que firmé el documento de alquiler del pez, pero que, en ningún lado, se hablaba del juego que ella me decía. Mi interlocutora, en tono encantador, me dijo que no había leído la letra pequeña que estaba al final del documento que había firmado. Ella tenía toda la razón; no la había leído.
Cuando colgué el teléfono estaba casi decidido a denunciar al hotel, pero recordé a Carmela y aquella noche espectacular. Sonreí. Me dije que, al fin y a la postre, eran los 503,50 € mejor gastados en muchísimo tiempo y que solo se vivía una vez, así que lo dejé correr.

Fuente de la imagen: Facebook

La fuerza del mar a pocos centímetros

Acabo de sacar esta foto en Los Nidillos en Las Palmas de Gran Canaria y como pueden ver la ola estuvo a punto de bañarme.

I just took this picture in Los Nidillos in Las Palmas de Gran Canaria and as you can see the wave was about to bathe.

Being the chrysalis of your change

Wanting to be a butterfly when you are not a chrysalis is complicated, when you are not an insect and you become aware that you are a human being full of limitations, frustrations, mediocrity, phobias, mania, obsessions, outdated egos and unconfessable envy.

One day you realize that you have to change from your inner self and leave behind the masks, those old skins that are no longer useful for you; to be like the snake that renews its skin on the side of the road. To be reborn from your inner self so that your wings come out so that you can leave behind what you were and never wanted to be. A being who, at times, you do not recognize, but who is there, within you, because it is simply part of your being.

However, you are not an insect, you are not a worm, that turns into a butterfly, you are a human being who only wants to leave behind their miseries and frustrations for being what you do not want to be. Then you take the beak and shovel to break, in a thousand pieces, that shell that covers you, to which you have been adding pieces every minute of your life as a faithful and conscientious blacksmith.

There you can see how difficult it is to remove the brass that covers your breastplate and you have no choice but to follow your path with it, releasing the ballast that you can because life does not give you a break, a pause to free yourself from that heavy burden.

Although the path always teaches you that you can change, that one step always leads to the other, that climbing a step, which you have never climbed, has its difficulties. Life teaches you that change begins with the attitude of wanting to change. You just have to do it, not try anymore, just do it.

To start changing the small, the detail, the insignificant and with the passage of time you will realize that you have changed, that you are no longer that chrysalis, but that you already resemble, in something, the butterfly that you dreamed of being.

I'm working on it, I've been trying for two years, walking and breathing, breathing and walking, with my beak and shovel behind my back and, whenever I can, I pull off a piece of tinplate that's no longer good for me.

Image source: Pixabay

Entre piratas

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En el Museo de la Piratería hace ya algún tiempo presentando mi novela Ali El Canario. Un corsario berberisco.

¿Dónde jugarán los niños?

Es un hecho evidente que ya los niños no juegan como lo hacíamos antes. La globalización y la modernización han cambiado para siempre la concepción que se tiene del juego. Está claro que el niño no ha perdido sus ganas de jugar y compartir, muy al contrario, siempre está dispuesto a jugar con cualquier cosa que se le proponga, pero hay que proponérselo.
Los juegos relacionados con la tecnología se han comido de una manera espantosa a los juegos tradicionales que se fundamentaban en la relación personal e interacción personal, creación y la participación, mientras que los juegos tecnológicos se alejan de estos principios básicos. Muchos de estos juegos técnicos son creativos, pero carecen de la participación y la interrelación entre los niños, que son fundamentales para su crecimiento personal y social.
A nadie se le esconde que es muy difícil luchar contra el gigante tecnológico, que nos inunda y nos invade, cual tsunami, y que, poco a poco, se va comiendo nuestros juegos populares y tradicionales y, por ende, nuestra cultura.
Recuerdo, con nostalgia, aquellos momentos cuando era niño, realizando nuestros propios juguetes; aquella cometa, aquel carricoche de cojinetes, aquel columpio, aquellos boliches o aquellos juegos de la calle que tenían distinta denominación en cada barrio o cada pueblo, pero todos tenían un denominador común y que no era otro que la participación y la creación.
Los niños cada día se relacionan menos y juegan menos en las calles, si acaso, lo hacen en los patios de los colegios que son el último reducto de los juegos de los niños. Cada día se juega menos en los barrios, porque simplemente se ha perdido para siempre aquella concepción, y porque ya no quedan espacios para ellos. Los niños se recluyen en las casas con la videoconsola buscando una satisfacción personal estéril.
Aquellos juegos se transmitían de boca a boca, de amigo a amigo, de mayores a menores, era un engranaje perfecto de transmisión oral que permitían jugar y mantener los juegos vivos. Pero un día nefasto, un diente de ese engranaje se rompió para siempre y, sin apenas apreciarlo, se fue imponiendo la modernidad.
Los niños tienen que jugar, interrelacionarse y crecer. Somos nosotros los que tenemos que poner el empeño en buscar los medios para que eso ocurra, exigiendo a nuestros políticos espacios públicos para el juego y programas de recuperación y divulgación de los juegos populares y tradicionales en las escuelas y en los barrios.

Fuente de la imagen: Propia

Unidas para siempre

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Unidas para siempre como dos amantes que no quieren soltarse por muy fuertes que sean los vientos.

United forever as two lovers who do not want to let go no matter how strong the winds.

La revolución tecnológica versus trabajo

Después de ver el documental Un mundo sin trabajo en RTVE te das cuenta de que el mundo cambia muy rápido y sin apenas darnos cuenta o que no queremos darnos cuenta.
Si te detienes un momento a observar los pequeños detalles que están pasando a nuestro alrededor, entonces te percatas que la Revolución tecnológica ya está aquí, que ha venido para quedarse y que cambiará por completo el mundo que hasta ahora conocíamos, una transformación de los medios de producción que nos afectará a todos en gran medida.
La mayoría de los trabajos mecánicos que desarrollan los humanos, por no decir todos, serán sustituidos por máquinas inteligentes. Solo hay que pararse a pensar cuáles son esos trabajos y nos daremos cuenta de que no es cuestión baladí, sino de mucha importancia que se irá produciendo de forma paulatina, casi sin darnos cuenta.
La incorporación masiva de las máquinas al mercado laboral dejará a miles de trabajadores en la calle, sin trabajo y sin ninguna expectativa de volver a conseguirlo.
Los gobiernos saben lo que se les viene encima y ya están estudiando fórmulas para atajar el problema que supondrá tener millones de personas sin trabajo.
Una de esas fórmulas, que se están barajando, es implementar la Renta Básica Universal que hasta bien poco era una propuesta de partidos de izquierda, pero ya está siendo reconocida por los partidos de derecha para evitar las posibles protestas y revoluciones sociales. Ya existen países que están la están implementando, como es el caso de Finlandia con resultados positivos.
Está claro que la Renta Básica Universal tiene sus detractores que la ven como una medida insostenible, aunque algunos estudiosos piensan que no habrá otro remedio de implantarla.
En este artículo Quién ganaría y quién perdería con una renta básica universal se explica con claridad, pero como en todo, tiene sus pros y sus contras.
Está claro que los países la irán implantando en función de su propia idiosincrasia socio-económica, que no será una fórmula mágica, ni mucho menos, pero sí una respuesta válida a las consecuencias sociales de la revolución tecnológica.
Esta revolución nos dará la oportunidad histórica de cambiar el mundo tal y como lo conocemos porque llegará un día que no será necesario trabajar para ganarnos la vida, porque serán las máquinas y los robots los que harán ese trabajo por nosotros.
Sin embargo, ese cambio de paradigma no será una tarea fácil y serán los gobiernos los que tendrán que tomar cartas en el asunto y regular sus sistemas sociales para que la riqueza generada por esa revolución sea repartida de forma equitativa y eficaz, porque habrá muchos intereses económicos en juego.
Con esa nueva sociedad resultante, los humanos nos dedicaríamos a disfrutar de la vida, a dedicarle más tiempo a la familia, a los amigos, en definitiva, a trabajar en lo que nos guste, si lo creemos necesario, sin tener la espada de Damocles del:

Te ganarás el pan con el sudor de tu frente.

Sé que parece un tema de ciencia ficción, pero no lo es, el cambio está aquí, solo tenemos que darnos un paseo por nuestras calles y observar lo que está pasando.

Fuente de información: RTVE, El País, Diario Público y Wikipedia

Fuente de la imagen: Pixabay

Escultura de Renta Básica Universal

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Una escultura con mucho significado, realizada por Etual Ojeda, @elportugal, en la playa de Las Canteras.

Huevos Moles

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Un postre típico de Canarias que ayer me comí después de un buen almuerzo. Aquí pueden ver la receta:

A typical dessert from the Canary Islands that I ate yesterday after a good lunch. Here you can see the recipe:

http://www.elzurrondelospostres.com/2008/09/huevos-mole-postre-canario.html?m=1

The carnival of life

He looked at himself in the full-length mirror of his room. He didn't recognize himself, but he liked himself a lot, too much, he thought to himself. It was carefully observed on both sides. He had done a good job. He deserved that day and because he was looking forward to it, eagerly, all year round. The blonde wig, with those magical curls of natural hair, the very black mascara on the eyelashes, blush blush right on the cheeks, red lipstick, navy blue contact lenses, jet black suit and notched, black fishnet stockings, red garters, matching underwear and eight-centimetre needle shoes with heels.
For a few days he left behind that person who never wanted to be and who, for a few days, kept in the closet, to take out the woman who always carried inside, the woman he wanted to be, but who did not dare to be because that meant breaking, in a thousand pieces, the rigid structure of the world that he knew and that maintained his family.
So she went out into the street, ready to eat the world and anything else that came before her.
Carnival had finally arrived, where everything was possible for a few days.

Image source: Pixabay

El carnaval de la vida

Se miró en el espejo de cuerpo entero de su habitación. No se reconocía, pero se gustaba mucho, demasiado, pensó para sus adentros. Se observó con detenimiento, por un lado y por otro. Había hecho un buen trabajo. Ese día se lo merecía y porque lo esperaba, con ansia, todo el año. La peluca rubia, con aquellos rizos mágicos de pelo natural, el rímel negrísimo en las pestañas, el colorete justo en las mejillas, el carmín rojo, intenso, en los labios, las lentillas azul marino, el traje negro azabache y entallado, las medias negras de rejilla, los ligueros rojos, la ropa interior a juego y los zapatos de aguja de ocho centímetros de tacón.
Por unos días dejaba atrás a esa persona que nunca quiso ser y que guardaba en el armario, para sacar a la mujer que siempre llevaba dentro, la mujer que quería ser, pero que no se atrevía a ser porque eso significaba romper, en mil pedazos, la rígida estructura del mundo que él conocía y que mantenía a su familia.
Así salía a la calle, dispuesta a comerse el mundo y a todo lo que se le pusiera por delante.
Por fin había llegado el carnaval, donde todo era posible por unos días.

Fuente de la imagen: Pixabay

The enemy? At home. The madness of guns in the United States

The permissiveness of carrying firearms in the United States has left 17 dead after a 19-year-old boy indiscriminately shot his classmates in the Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
A statistic that continues to rise year after year and that adds to the already tragic massacre of Las Vegas that left 58 dead in October 2017, not to mention the massacres that have occurred in previous years.
These terrible events put in the spotlight an issue which, year in and year out, also calls into question the regulation of the carrying of arms in the United States, which, under the second amendment, leaves on the table the chilling figure of more than 33,000 deaths per year from firearms, 93 deaths per day due to this cause, not to mention the number of collateral victims.

A figure of deaths that should make any medium-civilized country reflect and I am beginning to have my serious doubts that the United States is. A civilized country should have, as a fundamental pillar, the protection of its citizens' lives and the second amendment to its constitution goes against that fundamental pillar.
We are witnessing how the United States is spending millions of dollars on combating foreign terrorism, putting obstacles in the way of immigrants from supposedly terrorist countries, Libya, Somalia, Syria, Iran, Sudan, Yemen and Iraq, without realizing that terrorists are in their own homes.

Can you imagine that foreign terrorism will kill 33,000 people every year in the United States?

It would be the most serious national problem of all time and every effort would be made to put an end to that tragedy. However, the dead at home from guns are on the streets every day and no one does anything. They just shield themselves in the second amendment and look the other way.
The September 11 attacks, the bloodiest in the United States, left 2,992 dead. I have not made the calculation, but I am sure that in 2001 the number of deaths from firearms in the United States would multiply by five.
By this I mean that the dead are dead, wherever they come from, victims, after all, of the senseless, madness of violence that leaves many families without their loved ones.
Perhaps if they were to do the same as they are doing to combat international terrorism, to regulate and control firearms, that scandalous number of deaths would be considerably reduced. I'm more than sure of that.
I am fortunate to live in a country, Spain, where the possession of arms is very controlled, so much so that in order to have a gun licence, you have to go through very exhaustive controls and, in many cases, they deny it to you.

The fact is that the US has a very serious problem with firearms and it is they, its people, who have to solve it.

What are you waiting for? Another massacre of hundreds of innocent dead?

Sources of information: El País y BBC

Image source: El País y Pixabay

¿El enemigo? En casa. La locura de las armas en Estados Unidos

La permisividad de la portación de armas de fuego en los Estados Unidos ha dejado 17 víctimas mortales más, después de que un joven de 19 años disparara, indiscriminadamente, contra sus compañeros de la escuela secundaria Stoneman Douglas de Parkland de Florida.
Una estadística que no deja de subir año tras año y que se suma a la ya trágica matanza de las Vegas que dejó 58 muertos en octubre de 2017, por no contar con las matanzas que han ocurrido en años anteriores.
Estos acontecimientos terribles ponen en el candelero una cuestión que, año sí, año también, cuestionan la regulación de la portación de armas en los Estados Unidos, que, amparada en la segunda enmienda, deja sobre la mesa la escalofriante cifra de más de 33.000 muertos al año por armas de fuego, 93 muertos diarios por esta causa, sin contar en número de heridos colaterales.

Una cifra de muertos que debería hacer reflexionar a cualquier país medianamente civilizado y ya comienzo a tener mis serias dudas de que los Estados Unidos lo sea. Un país civilizado debería tener, como pilar fundamental, la protección de las vidas de sus ciudadanos y la segunda enmienda de su constitución va contra ese pilar fundamental.
Asistimos como los Estados Unidos se gastan millones de dólares en combatir el terrorismo extranjero, poniendo trabas a los inmigrantes de países supuestamente terroristas, Libia, Somalia, Siria, Irán, Sudán, Yemen e Irak, sin percatarse de que los terroristas están en su propia casa.

¿Se imaginan ustedes que el terrorismo extranjero matase a 33.000 personas cada año en los EEUU?

Sería el problema nacional más grave de todos los tiempos y se pondrían todos los medios disponibles para acabar con esa tragedia. Sin embargo, los muertos de casa por las armas de fuego están sobre las calles cada año y nadie hace nada. Solo se escudan en la segunda enmienda y miran hacia otro lado.
Los atentados del 11 de septiembre, el más sangriento ocurrido en los EEUU, dejó 2.992 muertos. No he hecho el cálculo, pero estoy seguro que en el año 2001 la cifra de muertos por armas de fuego en los EEUU se multiplicaría por cinco.
Con esto quiero decir que los muertos son muertos, vengan de donde vengan, víctimas, al fin y al cabo, de la sinrazón, de la locura de la violencia que deja a muchas familias sin sus seres queridos.
Quizás si pusieran el mismo empeño que ponen para combatir el terrorismo internacional, lo pusieran para regular y controlar las armas de fuego, esa cifra escandalosa de muertes se reduciría de forma considerable. De eso estoy más que seguro.
Tengo la suerte de vivir en un país, España, en que la posesión de armas está muy controlada, tanto, que para tener una licencia de armas, tienes que pasar unos controles muy exhaustivos y, en muchos, casos te la deniegan.

Lo cierto es que los EEUU tiene un problema muy serio con las armas de fuego y son ellos, sus gentes, las que tienen que resolverlo.

¿A qué están esperando? ¿A otra matanza de cientos de muertos inocentes?

Fuentes de información: El País y BBC

Fuente de la imagen: El País y Pixabay