Pinches gringos no mamen

Pinches gringos, qué: otra vez armándola de pedo.

No hay derecho. No dejan ni tantito relax.

A ver quién los entiende pinche bola de güerevers.

Güereve, guarever, vamos a beber, guaro de caña, papá.

Lo traje de Costa Rica y ahora lo toman en todos lados.

Vas a ver lo que es sabor, cabrón.

No te quites el sombrero.

Me gustabas más cuando llevabas máscara.

Pinche gringo bien culero.

A este que lo eduque su mamá.

Ay, mamá, dónde estás.

Ya, mamá, nunca te ví.

Me hisciste tanta falta.

La nana es más mamá.

Ya no hay bronca, nada.

Ya no hace falta nada.

Ya nada está bien.

Ya me acostumbraste.

Ignorame lo justo.

Yo te lo resintiré.

Por mi culpa.

Por mi culpa.

Por mi gran culpa.

Por eso estamos a la par.

En paz.

Y unión.

Y amor.

Y tú, némesis amado.

Aliviana el pedo, pendej@.

Checa lo incluyente que soy.

Que son unos pendejos.

Pero algo habrá que hacer.

Para bajarle de huevos a los que aman las armas.

Pues las armas les son amos.

Su experiencia les lleva a la fraternidad de la hermandad de los ejércitos.

Como herederos de las glorias de los bélicos.

Como si se midieran las guerras con morteros.

Si nos medimos la polla con las armas que hemos creado.

Y la pasta que hemos hecho.

Y el daño que han causado.

Oh, Dios de las Armas.

Que a todos los devotos iluminas.

Con balas perdidas en los entrenamientos de tiros.

Para el día en que haya que usarlas.

Stand by.

Why.

Is there a rebelion in the air?

Qué será esto para los jueces españoles?

¿Si salen dos com armas en Paris?

¿Quién tiene las armas?

¿Quién tiene el control?

¿Quién hace negocio?

¿Quién lo ve?

¿Quién los sabe?

¿Quién lo ejecuta?

¿El secreto de estado que permite?

¿La transparencia opaca del pasado político?

Destapemos todos los expedientes.

Pinches americos vespucios.

Ya lávense el prepucio.

Pinches americos vespucios.

Ya lávense el prepucio.

Pinches américos vespucios.

Ya lávense el prepucio.


Fin de poema.


El día después de Golman Elizondo Pacheco.

Bienvenidos al #futbolarte.


Actualidad política mundial: flash informativo

Los gringos han votado. ¿Y qué creen? Perdió el pinche Trump. Poor Donald.

Hay que esperar a que cuenten todos los votos.

Se trata de las reglas de la democracia.

Los que creen en la democracia entienden la necesidad de la campana.

El simbolismo americano y el realismo mágico de Trump.

Los ríos de tinta que se escribirán de estos días de la historia.

La voz de la pataleta más letal ante nuestras narices.

¿El sistema americano se puede autoaniquiliar?

Lo permitirá en pueblo americano.

¿Hasta dónde mándan más la armas?

Esa pregunta ya la perdió el estado vecino del sur.

Supongamos que hagamos un ejercicio de espejos.

Ustedes arreglan nuestro pedo.

Y nosotros el suyo.

¿Quién tiene las de ganar?

¿Quién tiene las de perder?

Hagámos rápido otras elecciones. Yo me presento a su pueblo con una solución. Y usted se presenta al suyo. Y así vemos a ver qué tanto podemos influir desde afuero. Esta vez buscado. Intervención internacional abierta. No como sus pinches secretos, ¿qué se creen? ¿Qué no sabemos? Gracias a lo que entendimos gracias a Julian Assange y a Snowden y Chelsea Manning habríamos seguido sin darnos cuenta. Business as usual. Azul o rojo. La misma mierda. El conglomerado no se para. Por eso los proud boys serán contenidos. Porque los que mandan no quieren provocar un desorden en el sistema que bloquee su sistema de explotación de los vicios sociales de nuestra cultura militarizada en función de lo que destinamos del dinero público a las armas. ¿Cuáles son nuestros outputs deseados? ¿Cómo lo estamos midiendo? ¿Cómo no se nos está yendo la cabeza con la producción armas? ¿Quién avispa el fuego de la demanda? ¿De verdad? ¿Nos creeis idiotas? Lo sabemos. Pero tranquilos. Vuestra insignificacia tiene un sentido de supervivencia que puede ser que podamos llegar a un acuerdo social más amplio al que yace detrás de la alternativa de vivir constantemente con el miedo de que vienen los rojos a darnos por el culo. A quitarnos lo que es nuestro. Ay, que miedo, que nos come la polla un rojo. Ay, que miedo, maricón. Ay, qué miedo, maricón. No me comas la polla, uy. No me la comas por favor. No me comas la polla, uy. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ay, no pares por favor. Ahí, ahí, ahí, sí, sí, sí, ahí, ahí, ahí, sí, sí, sí, ahí, ahí, ahí, sí, sí, sí, ahí, ahí, ahí, sí, sí, sí, Trump ya no está aquí. Sí, sí, sí, Trumpayanoestaquí. Sííííí, Trumpyanoestaki. Síílííííííí, Trumpayanoestaquí. Sííííííííííííí, Trumpayanoestaki.

Atención: alto a la tensión.

Soy su nuevo presidente.

Ya bájenle de huevos.

Metan a los violentos a las cárceles.

Allá dentro están sus brothers.

Allá están los pobres diablos.

Mientras los hombres blancos enseñan sus colecciones privadas. Todos las teníamos. Una casa sin protección en América. Wuz. Así lo piensan. El viejo oeste, viejo. No entiendes nada.

Llegó una víctima de Waco a hablar con Dios y le contó un chiste sobre su último día. Dios Padre se enojó mucho. No me hizo gracia, hija. Uh, I guess you had to be there.

No es mi chiste. Me lo robé de por ahí. Pero le di mi toque. Dios está dibujado según mis estándares de cómo se ve en apariencia Dios Padre, por contrario a la versión manejada por los hombres blancos de europa en el renacimiento de Miguel Ángel. ¿Por qué creer el idiolio de las imágenes de ese cabrón? ¿Por qué querer ir al cielo cuando queremos escoger la revoución que se preguntaban en las escuelas de surrealistas y los movimiento de arquitectura Bahaus con sus revoluciones de chicos burgueses apreciando el mal a la cara y saliendo a la calle a quemar contenedores. Reveldes de campo de futubol. Alborotadores del descontrol. Caos. Caos. Caos. Oh, caos, oh, caos. Vamo, vamo, lindo caos, te invoco y me revolvo con vos, me volvés loco, no parés por favor, esto que me hacés, me voló la cabeza, otra vez vos, cómo sos, divina, dale, me tenés en tu cabeza, y soltame por favor, no me comas los labios, espera, de verdad, que te ha picado, linda, muérdeme, tantito, hacéme eso que vos hacés, no parés, dale, vos sabés. No te inhibás. Sabés que estamos en confianza. Vos y yo. Qué querés que te recuerde. ¿Querés? ¿Quéres que te recuerde, otra ves? Decime que yo voy. Vamos que nos vamos. Amarte es mi exigencia con mi ser, de promulgar esa ceremonia compartia, ese enlace entre los cuerpos, vos y yo en ese gesto, ese abrazo, ese pasito, esa piernita aquí pegadita, esa tensión así en su sitio, un poco aquí, uno tanto allá, no te han dicho lo linda que sos, sosteneme este momento, hablame lo que querrás, pero al oído, no digas nada que no quieras, no te vayas arrepentir, vos ya sabés a dónde fuímos, la última vez que vos y yo, jugábamos a este idilio de amor acostumbrado, a volver al lecho cada vez es buena, olvidalo, dejemos esto para otra ocasión, y vámonos directo al vacilón. Dejálo ya pronto por favor, que la cuestión ya está aprobada en comité. Es por placer, olvida el mío. Yo por vos te como el coño. Oh, virgen santa, santo orgasmo. Por fin los dos aquí otra vez. Fundimos es este último alarido. Que ya yo llego aquí también. Siente esta eternidad, cariño mío, pues esto es toda la razón, que nuestro amor ya no haya sufrido de aquella estúpida moral que sostuvo en un tiempo anterior nuestro destino, que a partir de un derrotamos. Metiéndonos en patio ajeno, no libre Dios que hemos pecado. Diciendo en nombre de Dios millones de plegarias, detrás de un ejercicio, un bomardeo. No entiendes brother, no lo entiendes. El mal acecha y nos blindamos o Armageddon. Nos tienes a nostros en control de la misión. Así es la vida. Este es el juego. Les gusta amigos, somos 6 grandes productores. El 7 y el 8 pelean por aparecer. Sacar tajada del negocio. Estamble es esta cima para nuestro sector. La estrategia militar es de pueblos nobles. Productores y navieros. Seguridad. Alarmas. Metales. Minerales. Combustibles. Automóviles. Bancos. Seguros. Finanzas. Consultoría. Moda. Cine. Arte. Diamantes. Enervantes. Armas. Monedas. Mercados. Innovación. Sostenibilidad. Ambientalismo. Entretenimiento. Revolución digital. Apúntate a mi parida. Ayuda a hacer crecer nuestro potencial futuro. Olvida tu desgracia. Pinche gringo, no mamar. Levanta la cara. Recoge las migajas de vuestro último show. Dejen de odiarse a lo pendejo. Hagamos de esto una lección. Azul, rojo, que más da. Vecinos, no mamen. Chingen a su madre. Y váyanse a la verga. No se pongan así. Si saben cómo me pongo para qué me invitan. Ahí se ven.


Fin del comunidado

The military complex first horse loss

The flexitibility of the markets appreciates the dignitiy of the rest of the sectors who trust this country to feel closer to what de Democrats hope to achieve. Worldwide. What makes América cool. Not great, we know. Trust us. We know how much you suck. How low you get. In your greatest moments of glory. With your ignoring the other ignorance. To spell you faith in the 10 golden rules written by the profet HIMSELF, with a fearher from a Quetzal the white man first son stole in one of his hunting trips. We love our guns. Gives us our guns. Proud boys carry guns. Let’s chop somebody from the Democrat party like the Saudi’s do.

How much of this is bullshit?

The American young right wing poets are thinking that in their misserable status quo Stockholm syndrome. Oh, God, how dare you! Oh, God, oh NO. Oh, merry Mary, why, I prayed to you and then with her. Killing me softly with her song. Oh, cat, oh dear. Oh, God. Listen to her go. The truth, the lie, that comes out like that. Inside a church. The holy teachings. The way we adapt the civil ways of acting upon the mirror of our creed. Shouldn’t we provide a place to hold your new beliefs. Oh, start from scratched. There’s nothing sacred. Every joke is valid. Look carefully you are not shooting at the urarmed children or taking justice in your hands. Remember Abu Graib? I do. Do you remember Abu Graib? I do.

Please, stop the music. I can’t hear my voice. I’ve cried and cried. Affraid we’d die.

Venezuela is here to win. The commies are in the house. Call the ghostbusters, please. I’m affraid. Please bring back the Matador. As we want bulls to have it all: our stinking patriarchy declining. The decay of the Alpha Male. Diminished by rules of true democracies. In the votes of the people we believe. We said if first. Freedom shines more here. We are the center of the universe. And fly higher than the sun. In fact is she who follows our light. Our rays project into ther how great we are. Do you think the Sun reckons our existence. Forget God Father: ask the Sun!

Ask the sun, this is my song.

Come along, don’t get burnt

It ain’t right so much delight

The living life at last relax

Flat on my back with sand as bed.

Think not I’m here this is existance

To know and feel and love and be

So great today as life can be.

Cause just now just now

This is how I know

That I enjoy now or never will

As this is the only chance I have.

To say and feel and fly and cry

To be this high for sure transforms

As I know for sure that life is this

greates feeling or believing

as one goes in and then stays clear

For one is this and that other

The fate I take to be who I believe

to be in the quest of being real

real surreal as a king A as surrealy real

real surreal as a king A is surrealy real

real surreal ass king A as an ass is real surrealy real

No, your honor. I did not call that ass names.

This wouldn’t go unnoticed with a female judge. But she would deliver justice much better that them majority males. Except when you choose one of them conservative judge who believe in the morals of the lord according to the white anglican cultural legacy. That’s how far our criticism can take us as a white anglican in whichever county. Either I flee to another state, or else, I’ll be as white on rice as one can be. I ain’t rice, nor white, just brown, as you like to call me. I’m from accross the south wall one. Not the one down south. All the way down to Chiapas | Guatemala. The central american exodus. Do you read the bible? Do you read the pentateucus? Do you follow the tales from the old testament. The adventures of our super heroes? The invention of the codes of conduct. The new angles for understanding. The new roles we are here to play. The game is on. This is our own.

Let’s start tonight.

Let’s have a vote.

Anyone can vote:

God Father bless América!

God son bless the Mexicans!

Virgen de Guadalupe; ora por nosotros.

San Juan Diego; méntales la madre.

Reconcilialos, oh, Padre. Ayúdate del demonio. Te hará falta su perspectiva. Tus morales se quedaron obsoletas. Provocas el fascismo en ciertas personas. La resolución al rito de las armas. No se ha ido ni un minuto del tablero. Este juego de risk es muy aburrido. Se vienen vientos de cambio. Encontramos la resilencia en la comunión de los perdones. Bájenle de huevos, ya les dije. Ya les advertí, pinche blancos babosos. No se me alevresten, tan sólo les venimos a dar un manita. Mira. Huevos.

U-eeeeeeeee-vooosss

Fin del tocarle los huevos al vecino

Oh, qué placer. Qué tranquilo me quedé. Los deleites de los némesis. Al ver el sol caer.

Golman Elizondo Pacheco (tal día como hoy)

What’s with the world?

Here we are, paying attention one more time to the election for the quest of the empire. The United States of América, one more time inside our current estate of affairs. Is it really that important to see the crumbling monster fall into the ground? Maybe. As the system stands tall in the basis of the not so hidden agenda of this one narrative of the good. We know who they think evil is, even if its face changes more often than the némesis of James Bond. Or the James Bonds themselves. The character outlives the actors who depict the epic quest of a spy on the right side of history.

That’s the narrative of good and evil from the pages of history. The antagonizing need to have evil acting on the quest against the good willing people of the earth. It’s a matter of easy choices. We want to be on the right side of the story, and therefore, we want to be on the wider strokes that paints the picture of our time. This is how superheroes make things work. By acting upon the evils of society, clearly depict with the multiple faces of evil. Better if the picture described has a single face to deal with, and not those exotic nemesis that we fall in love with because we feel the attraction of the devil calling for our basic instincts to join a revolution that destroys the act of God, Himself. That would kill God. And we, the humble servants and worshipers, may not allow such thing to happen, as if the supreme leaders of the underworld would need the action of us, virus, to heal the wounds from the head to head at the higher ends of the pyramid.

Just chill, bro. The military’s got our back. You hear the laughs that have been recorded from the videos in Abu Ghraib. Oh, oh, oh… wait a minute. It’s a trap. Everybody, down. We have been ambushed. Semper-fi, semper-fi,… brothers, brothers,… where art thou?

You will not play with the pilars of our faith.

It’s too sensible.

Nobody fucks with that.

Nobody.

And we are supposed to think that’s reasonable. Because we have a set of values that shape who I am. Because those values were introduced into my life by my cultural trainers. My parents. My school teachers. My friends. The government. The news. The journalists. The newspapers. The publishers. The authors. The people society praises. The influencers of our time.

Let’s assume everything went down the drain. We’ve been flushed out. We’ve got fired by the people. Sort of what Trump is feeling right now. But he can’t stand to loose. He wants to take action. Stand by proud boys. It’s our time for militia. Now they’ll know. This kind of back up from straight up fighters for a higher good: our own. Our personal view of the really really good. The good «I» represent. The good that takes the hand of God and delivers the challenge of our day: to make the system fall.

América will crumble to the ground. And the entire world will watch in awe what they were expecting for so long: the fall of the empire. The crumbling of the Death Star. By this group of rebels, with guns and shit, taking down the road for the deliverance of their quest: salvation. Or some sort of paranoia. One of them conspiracies in their one online book: face.

They want to be a part of history that takes place in worlds that are closer to the superheroes they praise as real. The entertainment they love to fall for. Like Trump’s tv shows. Like being in part of his legacy. That’s what it feels like to them. They are following the lead of a lunatic that has made a brand of himself, and mirrored a lost country in itself. That’s me/you, he said. And the found «US». The you es. Ese.

Batos from Mexico voting for Trump. They know what’s happening down south, they say. They’ve seen the violence in their communities take over. A sort of thing, that somehow, does not show its face in the communities where they’ve landed a «life». It’s been illegal for some time. But now, after years of struggle, they are in. They are part of this final frontier. The place where everybody wants to be. The bar at Cheers. They are sitting within the sitcome that represents their improved life. Join them, they feel. It’s only fair I think for our own sake. They, the others, that resemble you I was, are now, as I’ve learned to believe, are the evil comming to mess up our fairy land.

Some crooked way to think, but yet the populist have established the line of what’s the complete story you must believe in order to be called one of us. Are you with «US» or with «them»? So these people, are led to believe that they will win some points by joining the counter argumentative place where they belong. Just because they feel like they don’t belong to the high paced good hearted way of being from here. They are mainly brushed by a sense of something else, that their fellow country men are missing out on. And they just like to call them one name: dumb.

This is part of where the situation gets to a quick quarrel against the others. They started to call me names. Now I’m just defending myself. But they are not right. They use fallacies to convey a story that’s clearly fake news. It’s been like that that they have introduced lies in the agenda of our once great country. But we want to make it great again. And we are not going to let fraud take this from us. Proud boys, are you ready?

Obviously the proud boys are standing by. And what will be of the military when the militas take the stands where they are supposed to be protecting the institutions they’ve sweare to defend. Rebelion is on the table. As so happens, those proud boys are also the military. Oh… whaaaaaaaat….

Wait, you didn’t see that one coming? Really. It’s, the least, surprising. But let me go on with this literary excersise of the shit hitting the fan. Tongue licks lips; first the top one, then, the bottom one, and then moving back in. Darkness is bright these days. It’s the pilars of a new system figuring out where to built either havoc or grace. But grace had been shadowed by the new ways of the family in power. Much like a tyranny of cynycal one. The cynycal ones. It’s a spiral of deceit. The glow of gloom. The dust comming in.

Trump or Biden

That’s a choice in the USA. Wow. Those people.

Trump’s a hack. And also a virus. And a russian spy.

Biden is not Trump.

That would be all you need to know to make a choice.

Choice matters.

We(you) get to pick.

Dicotomy: a simple choice.

Democracy has led us here: blue or red.

Like the pill we ought to take.

It’s all in the gender dilema.

It’s all in the bible: evil or good?

It’s a simple «Américan» story.

A new nation, says the oldest.

The uttermost respect for the origins.

Except for those who wondered this land.

As we come, in pilgrimage, to a land that shall be Europe.

Eurocentrism travelled across the world.

Far far away in an epic ethernal return to Alexander.

As any white male would portray his quest: warrior-king.

A queen is comming.

She’s 15.

The ruling of another girl, like that catholic one that established morality law.

The king is well prepared to fly a plane, a submarine or a drone.

Let’s compare the dick structure of our noble men.

Line them up in terms of succesory rights: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,….

Somewhere in that list: Floiran.

Como Ledezma, un rebelde con la cause abierta y la sandre brotando a borbotones.

Palabras sofisticadas para una mente pueril.

El tío Jacobo me regaló un libro.

O una editorial.

Pero no leo letra pequeña.

A penas interpreto mis sueños… despierto.

No tengo vocación para atender a mi llamado.

Soy un lacayo de mi amo, asilvestrado y mentecato.

No visto así para gustarte.

¿Acaso yo me gusto así?

Los de aquí, los de antaño, los nuestros.

La falacia más sublime de nuestra subnormalidad prescrita.

La vida es nación y naciones sueños son.

La unicidad vence ante las cabezas demoniacas de nuestro perturbado acosador.

Venezuela y Rusia mueven ficha para derrocar al reino elegido por Dios Padre.

Dios hijo hablaba español en la intimidad, salvo con los Pujol.

El azar unió varios capos en una fiesta de primera comunión.

La diversión, el baile, las mujeres, las armas en los coches, y los cantos de sirenas.

El poder emborrachado avalentonado como un giro de guion inesperado.

Las balas de Villa en el imaginario de quién desde abajo representa la toma de Columbia.

Forajidos por el sur penetrando nuestro muro.

Pagado por nosotros y nosotras.

Las armas no se venden solas.

Las drogas no se esnifan solas.

Ya nomás faltaría que la demanda sea imaginada.

Que no exista nada detrás.

Que las almas sin pena se crucifican al compás de la música angelical de cima del poder.

El dj es un presidente que no requere la verdad, ni la razón, ni la voluntad, ni la palabra.

Los consejos de Eipstein sirvieron para congregar las compañías requeridas para la fiesta.

Las elecciones se ganan como la entrada a una fiesta de Eipstein en la que Weinstein baila.

El poder de los titanes se contagia entre los grandes totems sociales del cinismo.

El silencio de los transeuntes que se enfilan a las urnas silenciosos, esta vez para sacarlo.

La otra vez se vieron abocados a un ritual de deseperación y autocomplacencia.

El riesgo de la América blanca que siente el latir café y amarillo de los otros colores.

El negro está en nuestro pecado original, y ya supimos cómo «asimilarlo».

Pero los nuevos otros…

Terrible nuestro destino abotargado en una infinita persecusión de nuestros némesis.

El colapso de nuestro entender anónimo más allá de los slogans.

El marketing es nuestro pastor, todo nos apetecerá.

No falta nada, pero tengo acceso a un capricho más.

Me permito la vívida concepción de un delirio enquistado en la memoria.

El volcán respira hondo en su último anhelo de bondad.

La ciudadanía de la metrópolis se dirige por los senderos de abismos bifurcados.

El espejismos está ahí, y hemos ayudado a alimentar el sentido del bienestar.

Los socios nos siguen atónitos a nuestra penúltima comedia.

Las estrellas de otros tiempos se liman las uñas en el contexto reconstruido de su fama.

La elección es un indicio de fatiga existencial que nos abrirá finalmente la gran puerta.

El desperatar de los pueblos contrapuestos en la elección de lo binario.

Lo que queda excluido es la noción martirizada de la tracción de unos valores revestidos.

Lo que es y la apariencia de serlo.

El sueño americano finalmente se proyecta en cada pantalla de nuestra distopia.

La actividad frenética de los mercados.

La bolsa fluctua.

Los dólares se mueven.

La economía teje dentro de cada ciudadano una especie de país singular hipercapitalista.

La felicidad está en el desprecio por todo lo que no sea el individuo.

El egoismo se vive al máximo al acceder a los niveles más palapables del privilegio.

La pirámide se hace cada vez más exclusiva sin lugar para todos los contendientes.

La vida resurge como un lucha tenaz en la que sólo vale subir.

Y la competencia me permite aplastar a mi rival más próximo.

A la que puedo apoyar mi bota sobre la cabeza del que me sirve de escalera…

Subo, y subo, y no paro de ganar.

Mi despegue es mi porvenir.

El anhelo de la cima.

El suspiro de ganar.

Hasta la victoria.

Siempre…

ALLS

44

Some days you find yourself turning the page. Life is full of days, and that should be enough. We only have a few and we don’t ever listen. Not even to ourselves. Life’s about to end. And still, life is just a walk outside your place, somewhere, where you’ll encounter… life. Other people’s life. Full of circumstances, vices and hopes. Life’s what comes out of todays journey. Wherever we go. However we choose to go about it. Life is beginning new projects, even when it seems out of the norm. Specially then. I never know if specially goes with a letter e at the beginning, or if that’s just me being latino all over again.

What am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to be? Still no answer. Still wondering about something else rather than what I must. I do this unconciously, or maybe, purposedly. I don’t have an answer for that either. I am more of a question guy, I guess.

I have limited time. Sometimes you have to remind yourself. Sometimes you need to hammer the head that’s avoiding to pay attention to your inner «Pepito Grillo» to come to those senses intended to be your landing spot. Why should I go there? Why should there be a place in which by my own deliverance I shake up the world that surrounds what I am supposed to be at the moment? Why would anyone, including me, care?

I don’t… know. I do care. I think.

Life is but a game. This illusion has been there forever. I might be dying inside, as we all are, and there must be a way to accept to take part in this new thing comming up. Today. I turn the page again around the sun. I’ve turned 44 years old. It’s the 20th birthday I celebrate in Barcelona. This city has evolved into something else. The place is ready to give back 1992 and enter right into the 80’s back again. Bring back the wall as we need this new decade facing backwards inside the room. Who’s in the back of the class? Why are they there? What is it they want? That’s where innovation is taking place within the social disruption scene. And in the front rows might be the scientists. They want change to. They have skills, several degrees, a method and a topic they know all about. In the middle, people caught between the poles of the class. Or the classes going about their own path to fulfillment. They are all in the same room. As we are. We belong to the front of the class as much as to the back of it. Only, as Woody Allen played it early on, he only had a chance to go to the back of the class and choose from the options in that side of the board. Who’s making a living out of their own wit? Artists? People creating new narratives. People pushing the boundaries. The Charlie Chaplins. Cinema is entertaining and feeding people with stories that go out of bounce. The gameplay is being leveled by those outsiders. And we, in the middle, get to watch.

Scientists go about the way they got there: excellence. And studying. And observing. And asking the right questions. And making science. All the time. All the time. Until the impact factor hits the roof. Then they’ve made it. If not before, when they have already stablished a role within a lab. Making a difference from the lab bench. Finding new ways to push through the limits of their own view of the world, through the microcrospe. Through their practice.

We are called to make a stand to risk everything in order to be a part of a bigger process. This insurgency meets the needs of a society that is full of resentment towards the other, and where conspiracies are thrown at each other to debunk the fundamental issues that hold each others arguments. But it’s not like fight. It’s not war. We are taken to scenarios of violence because that’s been the case all over history. It’s the norm in our history, according to our storytellers. And we have found it normal. Customary. Was is just around the corner. Again.

New tensions in the middle east. The old commies vs uncle Sam. Nazis taking over. North Korea pushing the button. Trump playing war games. Drones flying to get you. A bullet your way. Paramilitares taking on environmental activists. Minning, the old fashion way. The land being taken from it’s local communities. Deforestation. Devastation. No jobs. No movement. No social non violent uprising. Who’s next? What’s next? Why now?

It seems like life is taking a spin. Pandemia has shown us a way of coping with our priorities. And somehow, we have all noticed how screwed we are/were. But it’s not on us. We avoid to fall into the place where society is being judged. We are coping with illnesses as we go about a dayly routine back to the old days. The new days have no shape yet. They are only real in our imagination. And sometimes, we forsee a bright and prosperous future. Some others, we are gloomed into despair by the blindness of our own.

How to change ? Why change? Why now? Against who? People are choosing to take sides. And two poles are always there colliding. No atraction/repulsion is taking more than two poles. Unless we create a new electromagnetic field. Complexity then play it’s own balancing game. Structural entrophy. Balance. Stability. Or ultimately, a bomb.

We’ve all taken a blow at the head. Sad news have come our ways as we have experience a new way to be caged. The caged bird still sung. And there, within that unfair imprisonment, freedom was casted with the spirit of heirs of dinosaurs. Not a small heritage on their tiny little shoulders. Sing bird. An eagle’s scream. A dove’s coo. I know why the caged bird sings. Freedom.

Are we there yet, mom?

I don’t need another coffee

I’m fine just like this.

I’m not complying.

Nor complaining.

Hope not mansplaining.

I’m just cruising.

Hopelessly wondering.

I’v come to terms.

And this world is there.

As is, fine and troubled.

Not fine, more trouble.

Fierce and spears.

Tears and gasses.

Opression and slavery.

Hopes down, this is the law.

My knee will show you: God.

God chokes but doesn’t kill.

Cops is another a deal.

Guns give power to the people.

It’s that first amendment deal.

The new deal must add that.

To leave things the way they are.

As we are far from right.

Yet the far right is here.

Right here pointing at you.

It’s gonna bite you in the ass.

Or shame you through that hat.

It’s burnning crosses in your heart.

And confederacy flags and dunces.

As if this great continent was once ours.

Yet the narrative is forgiving and white.

We must aknowledge what was once.

And then let go and keep on our flight.

This struggle is still our fight.

But fate will have us taking another road.

As we must follow and untold fall.

We all find it hard to part and let go.

Yet, as we are, we will behold.

For chances are straight up we must aim.

To fly away from this place.

And land another time and space.

Yet, the statue is still there.

We have not move far from here.

Again we’ll discover in the way.

To move away today in pain.

To leave behind this fine realm.

As it’s not real, nor there.

It’s all inside your head.

A poets wits in threads.

To cluster posters of succes.

A vision largely unseen.

A new way to begin.

A final trace for this ordeal.

As we are glancing at our fears.

Yet power still displays its paws.

To make a stand upon desire.

To clear the throat of virus spread.

To keep the fear still within your skin.

To cancel leaps and strikes and hopes.

To conceal the anger within at once.

As it must not break out of control.

The one thing this system wants.

To keep things ancient and untouched.

To kill revolt as no other world is due.

Because HE said so then and now.

It’s in the scriptures and the sermons.

It’s our faith in infinite growth.

No matter if our Earth can’t breath.

No matter if the climate changes.

No matter if the infamous cinics rule.

It’s all within the scope of affairs.

To leave the masses at the edge.

To feel the joy of goals and gossip.

As you don’t care enough.

It’s not on you.

Keep on.

Still.

Within.

Ill.

Alas.

I…

die…

The fire this time: Race at boiling point

UCLA zoom scholary discussion regarding racist white América.

The following is going to be a transcription of the main things said in this talk, mixed with my inputs on the matter. It comes from a high end debate from local experts on the matter, and the community connected to listen what’s to be said from a University institution regarding the issues that pop up again after George Floyd’s murder.

Breath, breathing. Impact of COVID-19 on black community. Constricted air in a knee on the neck. Stress of parents and grandparents in overcrowded and underresource conditions. Or families separated in segregation camps where inmigrants are separated from their children.

What’s going on?

Economics, environment, Covid-19, racism, comming together.

A conversation. University of Missouri. Athethles became involved. Many of the students were extremely depressed. They’ve lost the intensity of the moment. Thinking deeply about the meaning of protest. Demostration being rehearsals for revolution. This very intense moment will not last. It will be over sooner than later. What helps to create such a moment and how we act after that moment. Important for activists. Who are deppresed because the lack of attention to the work they are doing. Sometimes it takes 9 years for the consequences of that work to create a junckure. Keep both the past and the future in how we might image the aftermath. The intellectual work we need to keep pushing.

Longevity. Thanks for the long term struggle. Those who are fired. Whatever hits them. Ungoing boicot. June 5th. 4th aniversary, Cedric Robison. Racist Capitalism. African struggle. Facism. Ending the war on black people. Peace divident. Covid-19 pandemic lays bear this ongoing war on black people. The devastating impact of the pandemic on the existing condition of caged, low waged jobs, … acceleration of boarder crossing. Elimination of labor laws. Struggle to keep the jobs. Getting infected. Meat packing industry. Indian country: epicenter of coronavirus. Centurys of neglec disposesion and enclosure. Racism on asians. Things happening before the pandemic. Shift to authoritarian regimes. Racist nationalism. The catastrophe we were fighting. The most recent set of murders, like Floyd’s. Lay bare the intensity of the struggle. Possibilities on the struggle.

Young people. Courage and risk. Frustration and anger. Militarization of the boarder. Rehersal of what we are seeing right now. Mexicans first. Now inside.

Imagine a new world. Thanks for all the people who have work on that. Thanks to that we have something to look for in the future. Hundreds of years of pandemic racisms. The grief laid bare by these public linching. Criminalization of the unprotected. Calculus of human worths: life and dreams. Young people are teaching us to get across based on our humanity. Just because we breath. Deserve to be here. Ongoing struggle. The power of what Cedric Robinson brought to us. Promise of liberation. Always have the lessons to be freed. Concerning and hopeful and powerful. So proud to be a part of these communities. People who don’t have these conversations. The people who keep having this talks. Still on. Protesting. Black lives matters. Brown, Black, trans… skepticism. The burden of our humanity. Ongoing struggle: resource for us to learn from.

The border. Everyone in these panel have been teachers. Militarization of the Mexico boarder. Surveilance and security industrial complex. The converged effort to create a culture of inclosure and containment. The border complex has increased its presence. Border patrol in 92 was used as part of the work of LAPD to deport latinos. Homeland security integrated in national policing. It’s the same now. Linking what’s happening with Mexico border and antiinmigrant actions. Supreme court rules on DAKA. Solidarity movements. Pride is next week. On the border front Richard Mistrac, fotographing the militarization of the US/Mexico border. Rocks and canions. Southwester. White supremacist messages. KKK mesages. Profecy on how thes linked system of hate and terror. All there written on the environment. A network of networks of solidarity with the same level of convergence.

Miopic. International community. What about? Insight from support and aliances from around the world. The kinds of struggles and resistances on other places. Obviously the response of the linching has been felt all over the world. Racism is not a domestic problem. We are facing racist capitalism. We are very thankful of racial capitalism. The system is responsible for a range of problems we are facing in this society. In the state of Amazonas activist are having police violence. In Brazil 4000 people were killed by the police. Militarization of the police. The danger of the military police. The burning of the forest. An intersectional approach: racisms, sexism and misoginy, transfobia, Maria de Franco, a black trans women killed. A global problem. Adama Traore in Paris. Killed four years ago. His sister, Asa Traoure has been very active. In UK a march took place to Grimble Tower that was burn down in 2017. All the connections and the responses of the globlal responses of the killing in the US. The limitations of the nation state. The militarization of the border is very relevant here. This is a moment where it’s becoming clear that the nation state as we know it is no longer possible. A broad internation perspective helps us in what kind of future we want. Abolish prisions. Abolish police. We move beyond the capitalist notion of the nation state.

Halowing out. Placement of neoliberal market space. Make it in the world on your own. Environmental degradation. The lack of certain kind of liberal state government. A different interconnected understanding. Hollowing out of the nation state. Regulatory turning the estate into a corporate capital governance. The nation estate as we know it is unsustainable. Such a dedicated commitment of nationalistic estates to bring it up. Capital is global for a couple of centuries. The authoritarian regimes mantein a liberal order, they want to remove all barriers to capital movement, but create a barrier against labor power, or regulated life and environment rules. Police power. Military power. Liberal estate has a short history. Social democratic estate starts in the reconstruction. A vision of the estate that could actually help people. Extends then to Europe and elsewere. Social liberal estate. XIX liberal estate is diferent form the XX neoliberal estate. Facism then fucks it up. Vision of internationalism. The beginin of a global vision that focus on the condion of the least of us. Conditions of life for the working people in the entire world. The movement now is deeply international. It builds on previous movement. A decade of BLM. It moves beyond Occupy movement. This internationalism explotes not especifically environment, or color blind, it’s state violence. A very exciting time to see what the future looks like.

Racial capitalims. Connected discrete struggles. Escalation of authoritarian regimes. White supremacist fragility. A lot of people are recognizing to be made to feel that this is a unitetly american problem. We’ve already feeling isolated. It’s not just an American thing. Everybody is hurting. The only thing that has change is that we’ve had enough. Internationalism is mutual recognition that the nation state doesn’t hold anymore. It’s not a time that can be determine what freedom is. Fleamsy fence in the white house. The narrative of how fences are not going to keep anybody in or out. A permeable fence around the white house. You are not welcome here. Women and trans in the front line. There are other histories. Infuriated to Bolsonaro, Trump. It says what you are doing is a lie. We have a diferent set of imagination that you don’e even get.

The narrative.

The dispute of truth and facts. The journalism struggle. Cellphone and camares. A different kind of achive. The powerful role of the miniutarization of the camara. A diferent kind of telling. And a diferent kind of visualization. Due Jordan, activist. This is what poets do. Wory words. The greates possible beauty. Tell the truth. Profound troubling of the truth. The nature of the thruth of linching. Antiblack violence. Public ciclical murders. We would not be talking about it without cellphones. To bear witness. To get to prosecute. No doubt from Fergusson. Brutal beating of Rotney King. The recording of portable devices. The potential impossibility of retribution or gettion close to some kind of justice. Elisa Richardson: bearing wittnnes white black. Citizen journalism. Documenting terror. Harder to ignore. Harder to not see. A piece on the Conversation. Cellphone videos can become a kind of explotation. Get’s distributed in ways that desinziting and numbnes of black deaths. Media: you are not alone. We are here. Recording.

What to do?

What does policy look like.

Care.

The question of care. The kind of care that we see in the streets. Confort. Care and movilization and protest. A care of different way. Collective care.

Recognize the feminist dimention of these new movements. A kind of genealogy that comes back to the emergence of black lives matter. Collective leadership from women perspective. Selfcare. Who does the care? Who is responsible for care work? Who is responsible for labor? The healthcare industry has expanded in the various ways in which it’s been privitized. Something about the witnessing of George Floyd’s last breath. Has become a collective fenomena. We’ve all seen the last nine minutes of this brother’s life. The emotional connection has been lacking in our movement prior to this recent era. We all feel diferent because we’ve witness this. The collective witnessing could render one inmune, but it’s important in which so much has come together from this. Trully and conjunturate moment. This virus could lead us to something new.

Black feminist leadership. Making all lives matter. Black feminist movement. Alicia Garza talking about acertions of what the movement needs a male leader. That’s dying. All these amazing young people caring about each other. They are there to defend their right. Scenes of caring. Strage dicotomy of police. In their own militarism can get all the resources they need. Healthcare workers who can’t get basic necesities to protect themselves. Riana Taylor was murder as a result of a home invation. Social domestic space. Black women of all ages are killed on their private space. We need to pay attention in the way in which black women are killed. At the forefront of the struggle are women. Around the world.

A couple of question.

Small steps individuals can take/ large steps institutions need to take.

I’ve been doing a lot of conversations. Lot of folks are asking what can I do. People want to go to work. It’s really important to remember in the institutions as they are setup right now. One change in policy. A fundamental shift in which we pattern ourselves where we go next. A fundamental introspection of the commitment we are ready to make and the people who are ready to step in. That’s both an institutional question. How quickly no SAT was required. This doesn’t work for our communities. It changed in a second. We have to not be affraind to unpattern ourselves. Where we want to go. What magic we can bring to the show. A personal transformation.

Multiracial coalitions organizing and protesting. How to attact white supremacy in this moment around this kind of challenge.

There is so many latinas organizations. Discovering antiindigeity. People doing this work. Power collective. People used social media. On small and big levels. This work is being done.

Coment on the economy of the violence. Massive distribution of wealth. And how it affects the poor.

A moment of enlightment. I am impressed of how structural racism and institutional racism infiltrated the mainstream. Elected oficial and media talking about it. Work that we’ve been doing for a long time. It’s reacing a fruition. When the governor of Minessota says as a white man I undestand my priviledge. The narratives that it’s generating. Black lives matter. The negative responses that first occur in the context of the Ferguson protest. So many people white are saying; all lives matter. One of the presidential candidates said it. People are beginning to get it. All lives will not matter until black lives matter. The wall that went up around the white house. Workers painting black lives matter painted in the street that goes directly to the white house. We have to saviour this moment. There’s so much hope in this moment. The promises will last. We have to hold on to those promisses. So that we can move on the direction of a better future.

Capital accumulation. Worth noting that there’s a kind of concept of progressive taxes. Privatization of healthcare. Cuomo protectig CEO’s of healthcare hospitals for being sued. Defunding the police. Moving it to transform the healthcare system that doesn’t become the cash of corporate system. Prisions should be abolished. Encarcelation became an investment. The posiblities of this being dismantled. Encarcelation is caging people. There is no shortage of plan to move to the future. Ideas are now being taking seriously. Corporate facism is coming.

Accumulation conversation. One aspect is the role of corporations and creative industries have been playing in the last month. Way more than in 2014: corporative care. One of the things is that corporations are caring. Instagram is corporate advertizmente of black lives matter. Longitudinal movements get compressed in a week that increases the brand power of individual brands, and not the movement. The music industries donating and giving visibilities. Unfair contracts. Profiting of black music to built music empieres without black people. This has been growing.

Do you belive that there are two diferent timelines of freedom. Independence. But still some african americans don’t have it.

I can see that on two timelines. The freedom in France or the USA were depending on the slavement of black or indigenous people. Even for lives who’s freedom depends on the freedom of others. The levels of our own sudjugation depending on the freedom of others.

Projects in the future we can imagine. Possibilities. Hope. Future.

The role of culture imagination. Music. Confinement. The slow time of covid. I wonder if you think culture is a repository for this kind of hope. A way forward. Culture workers. Freedom workers know the power of visual art, and sonic music. Music as part of freedom struggles. Sounds that signal to a past that is an inside story. A bigger story that we can participate. A strengh that is used in organizing how we go in to give speeches. People waiting for contractors. Activist come with music. This is were the leadership is. Part of the sountrack of freedom. Messages that not explicity about freedom. A soundtrack of what we experience together. What’s going to be the soundtrack of our triumph.

One of the reasons white peole are drawn to the US struggle is the power of black music. With that music comes the strugle of black resistance. So much solidarity to black struggle in the US, but not nearly the same level of solidarity for Palestinians of Kurdish people. I think with impact of black music comes responsability. Not only with black people, but with the people of the world. A tendency of black people that we’ve suffered so long, so hard, that we have no space for anything else. I think that the music have opened up new spaces. Black people has been able to use this to open space for solidarities in other countries. Black solidarities in Palestinaians when Ferguson. Open up. Instead of closing up with the world. With Rajava. Kurdish people. Also trying to abolish the police. Radical feminist notions to reconstruct their society. When it doesn’t look like we can get a better future, music gives us hope.

We find a way to come together. 15.000 people that join in 15m. Because the music is good.

On the music note. Black music as a language of solidarity. Kpop fans. Online resistance army. Used their army to use their opposition to policing. They flodded the social media of police.

Two organizations in LA. Envelon. Graphics artist. Someeverthing. Her new organization. Community center. Visual artist and fantasy architect. Future possibilities. Urban gardens for the former encarcerated. New gardens of community. Community food organizations. Putting food in the center.

Poetry. Ross Gay: a small meatfull fact. Is that Eric Gardenr. With his very large hands he put gently into the earth some plants that continued to grow, like converting light into food, making us able to breath. Putting our hands in the earth making sure that we can breathe.

Terry Lyn Carrington. Social Science group. Sountrack of this moment. Music and art allows us to get it. Cecile McLoren. The most amazing jazz singer.

All of us have a relationship of UCLA to the humanities Institute. The larger community. UCHIR.