Month: maart 2009

March 28. Sin titulo
The more alive I feel the more my writing becomes fixed, the more it becomes a token of - death. Mmm, at this point it seems a good idea to let some dogs off the leash to sniff at this paradox. The dogs run towards it, run a few times around it and start to ...
March 27.
Power and thinking. Again, I am going to tell you something from my authority as a writer of an accepted phd. To many ears it will sound like bullshit. To some ears it will be obvious. To your ears it will be like music. I am not going to tell you about the power of ...
March 26. Lobo.
Philosophy should be sprouting from the pain of being. Like a fragile plant. What am I saying here? A plant? Pain of being? I am dwelling in Buenos Aires these days, feel like I have to move on because I already feel too much at home here. It gets a little bit aburrido. But of ...
March 25. Backups.
I have to make backups regularly. Backups are an interesting phenomenon. They can make you feel safe. I mean, right after you made a backup, right after you saved all your work on various usb-sticks, as well as on various servers on different continents so that your work will survive a partial nuclear winter, and ...
March 24. Tango lesson.
A few days from now I will experience some unprobable situation. I was playing dice and had to throw five times the same number. The called it the poker. You have three tries. I threw two ones in the first try and threw another one with the second try. Put the remaining two dices back ...
March 23.
In Argentina, a coffee Jarrito is a medium-sized cup of coffee. It's as good as it gets. I have written in a café that whole day. I have to sit close to the enchufe, the plug. What is there to say? It is like office work, sitting behind a computer and hitting the keys on ...
March 22. Luck.
Luck seems to follow me wherever I go. Even on a normal day when I some work that muse is right behind me. What is the nature of good luck? Getting lucky? I don't mean winning the lottery or living a long and healthy life. I don't know either, you tell me. I feel very ...
March 21. The brewery in our head.
"Mi nombre es Cecilia si necessito cualcosa me llamas..." said the friendly waitress in the café where I write today. Writing in Buenos Aires is optimal. Firstly, it's one of the worlds most literate cities, with an impressive amount of good bookstores. Secondly, the wifi cafés are plenty and affordable. Thirdly, the climate stimulates creativity. ...
March 20. I read it in the guidebook.
Rested. Travel guidebooks use a rhetorically smooth English that I like to call mashed language. The smoothness of the idiom gives me an artificial taste in the mouth, a taste like a wine that is everymen's friend but leaves the connaisseur with a bitter aftertaste. It's the length of the sentences, the range of the ...