FUtbolArte

Menos cinco…

Menos seis…

Menos siete…

Menos ocho…

Menos nueve…

Vean ustedes lo que hace un título efectista para llevarles a hacer click cuando les tire una mamada por aquí.

Y usted en su mano: movil.

Corte B.

Lo típico que dices un término disque muy acá del sector, y la cagas, por inepto, por sentirte con la iluminación de aquél que se deja llevar al límite de posible.

Al más allá.

Veamos hacia allá.

Juntas.

Ya aquí.

En este otro presente.

Yo ya lo hice.

Yo soy escritor.

Y los escritores de hoy solo queremos la última revolución.

Y asumirla.

Referirla.

Llevarala a la sublimación de nuestro tiempo-espacio.

Como si la unicidad de Mario Vargas Llosa en la boca Perez Reverte, que le entra, y ambos, vergas erectas, disfrutan, por primera vez.

Primera vez.

La historia GAY.

El movimiento hacia que todos los anos se penetren.

La irrupción por Detroit.

Ok. Salgamos. de aquí.

Kevin Pollock. 120 movies and under 9 minutes of creen time.

Joey, you are doing a . Your parents aren’t choosie of who touches your pipi. Dennis here. If you knew Bruce. He is not fond of the blacks. Nicky Glacer, like she is jewish. Jewish are funny. She likes it up her ass. You know how brilliant is a mater…ask her. If you wanted to be humiliated just take another album. His manager: cocaine. Cocaine jokes. Americans go hard at it. It’s part of who they are. And some mexican cocaine stories are entering our family members. And coke culture spoke.

He wanted to fuck his own face.

Christopher Walken. Sorry I coundn’t attend your funeral. I was always a fan. Specially 12 monkeys. I wanted to thank you for creating my favoirite restaurant, Planet Hollywood, which is also my favorite planet. Hollywood jokes. Oh, man… I’ve a bunch.

Let me in.

Next roaster, Cyvil Shepard.

She dated Elvis at 19. Cybyl is bigger that just big. She’s a star. Like any women like to see on those fictional stories this great women represent. They open our eyes. Cybyl takes on Golman. The latino who got through the net of Hollywood and erased it with virus that was design in bot of a selfrewarding mechanism that speaks for society in an open vote structural neuro . If your were to represent the nazi part of you in American History X, you’d a job in the White House. The thing democrat fight against the only president who’s not started a war from the war believing part of society: the loving New Américan gun loving fool, you know from our other end of a dual playing field. Two sides, like our continent allows us to balance between the south and the north of our completenes of continent realighned with this one plan that comes from the deep end our our green land. We as all, all things, all creators of the Earth, in a sense of zootropolis and us, you know, forget believing the bullshit they feed you with animals. What are you: a proud capitalist.

You can suck my dick.

And my dick gets sucked.

That’s as good as it gets. Don’t think who’s performing the work that needs to be displayed in order to give pleasure. That spiritual sense of two bodies that enter that space. You know. That way to bed. That hint in your smile. That part of your body against to mine. I am not going to lie you are filling my dick. And we love to fuck. So we are led into you. And we are apalled by love of the mind, through your eyes. Love, let’s find our tongues to meet: hi…

Edward to Bruce. After tonight is back at you. I am fortunate to be here. Suck ups like Levin. I am here to do how a New Jersey bar man became a Hollywood story like Bruce Willis. Middle age. How I crack the mistery of how being like Bruce or Edward, good rewiews from the New Yorkers, but the Oscars don’t bye you Idaho. Can I be the guy who shits on you. Trying to keep a marriage together when 22 is still on the menu. We are done making the movie. Can I act that weird and get away with it. Mexican extras jokes. Liberal hollywood directors came after my next contract, John McLain. Quentin never calls me. I am going to rewrite this piece of shit tonight. Edward to Quentin. Rented the Carnigeie mansion at the side like a boss. Shut the fuck up, that’s a fucking movie star. Fuck streaming. My movies go out exclusively in DVD. I can sell you anything from my Kiosk Rovira.

What good is actor. Strech me roles. The same performance every fucking time. I wanted a better The best Marvel movie against Christopher Nolan’s worst movie event. This face off. He doesn’t have lines, he just boms shit. And you become bald head millionary, like a nice shaved penis like your head, you have a perfect dichead, men and women are both atracted to it, just like I playing you a dickhead in American History X and they gave me an Oscar to make less than your worst movies in first weekend. Bruce sent Edward a letter. You are doing a kind of work I am interested in, so any time you want to do something, put me in the middle. If you ever need me I am in. I love you. Or maybe I am just a really good actor. You wouldn’t know the difference, and that’s the reason I love you.

Ed with tears of joy in his eyes hugs manlynly Bruce.

A moment inside a gay bar in Sunset bullevard still has that Edward Norton acting like a dickhead with swastika tattooed on my chest. And dick is being swalloed. You republican gay oldman.

OLDMAN

I never thought of that fictional name. Until I wrote that last title line.

I sometimes have just the name of the movie.

No script necesary.

If the story must take you down to a final revolution: let her just take form.

Let’s do that: tonight.

And I present myself like a candidate.

This is a surreal story.

Best thing to come out of the Tico Commons strategic alliance with feedbackloopper movement that takes over space and time and delivers a new show. We go live, ladies and gentleman. I am a true soal from our mountains and valleys and rivers and animals along in a healthy way as come back into nature and return into urban soul of a capital of the new understanding. We just need 9 urban souls beating at this glow around a rat race that inspires the movement. As a piece of art.

As a plan.

As a presentation to the Tico Commons to be heard by the feedbacklooper 9 society drill on our social network alliance. As a

The name of a professional prostitue, and the body of an amateur prostitute. A low living

Martha Stewart called him a great budfuck. What an honor.

Fuck I hope I can follow . That’s my younger, she likes cock. She is just like her mother. This man nailed everybody. Starting of Edward Norton: what an arrogant prick he said. That’s my kind of humour. Kill them with wildest edge of their imagination. Like this man with the double papada. He’s got the sense fo the best humour. He nailed Bruce by making fun on how he is so proud of how much cock her youger daugher enjoys. The oldest trick on the macho jokebook. It’s a format movie. A new genre.

If I come to filmmaking, I mean cinematography, I will come in with a story I already write for myself. And for my banda. The way out of pain.

Only comedians laugh.

Not really. It’s fuction.

Fucking Balzac.

Fucking Camus.

Rodman. American History X, … The Planet Hollywood. Dennis get sentimental. He was low. And Bruce was there. And stood by. Like a true Hollywood friend.

Demi Moore on Bruce. I was married up until the first three die hard movies. Our three daughters are fine. Bruce went to Harvey Weinsteins hotel and came back I got the part. The carpet maches grapes. Everywere you look it looks like a dick. Planet Hollywood, campaiging for Dukakis, not acepting Ocean’s Eleven’s movie. Our marriage was like a sixth sense, you were always death. You are one of my top three husbands. Was that alright? The true girl, after the hug. Huging someone you’ve loved. Demi know her feminist way up. The self affirmative girl, like their daughters.

Bruce Willis have been finding terrorist since before they were arabs.

The last time at the aspirations. Cybyl Shepard looks like Bruce Jenner. Little Bro lookes like Bruce from Diferent strokes somhow modified. Bruce wants an Oscar so bad he’s turning into one. You know what I rather fuck the grumpy guy from Two and half men. And she did. And got more than half of the money. Mom won. That’s how the three daughters live the relashionship with their father. That life. What they all shared. The house that’s always there. As long you girls keep growing New Américan. The greates new américan story. Like American History X but without jumping into the nazi trap. The unresolved hate in your heart. Morenazi. The new mexican story telling that gets into the the right desks at nine studies of Hollywood. In every script it was de demolition movie with Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, the dick had fatso who closes every roast. The three girls jump at dad. Bitches my movies the script is always the same: one an half hour beating and then come back to wip your butt. One actor who played me better than me. Jeff always the same roast. You don’t get ahead by doing the same role. I loved Ed in Fight Club, getting beat up 90 minutes into the movie. It’s a movie about how black movies are just about bad behaves at their jobs: the black service. Why would I want to be president if I could just be Bruce Fucking Willis, and then I take out the harmonica and play whatever. I just go out at it for 99 glorious seconds. Blue mangrove.

A Lesbia going to the prom. The next… This guy is funny. He always closes. Jeff something. I am not fast enough to just get the jokes and type them at the same time. Respecting getting the joke right away. As if comedy wasn’t that already. Fast thinking bits with puchlines one after the other.

Roasting David Hasselholf. Seth Mithfartland. Or something like that. I have to go. The creator of family guy. Here to salute the greatest joke. Someone who’s puked all over himself. Waiting room for a The most and least downloaded woman on the Internet. David famous singing. So many diferent talants. I’m David Haselholf. Acting like a terman star. How about a little turbo bus. I’m going to stop hamburguer eating. The hoff. You roast people who are big. Bigger that Brando. David enters singing, his song I guess. I put down a feeling and I won’t believe it, that you are in love with me. That’s not his… is it? Oh, David. You’ve always fooled us. Some people call you just a terrible human being. And then nothing. No sense of reality. You unconcious all the time. You’ll always be Mitch Bucannon to me. It was really good job: to kill boners. Well David is not just a bad actor, he is also a terrible singer. Or Anderson Hooper is waiting to get married. That fucking language at the hamburguer’s videos. The thing we remember from you is Pamela Anderson’s tits. They are right there.

Lisa Lepinelly. Seth McFarland. David. The young and the restless. Balls hitting your exwife’s chin. Hulk Hogan roast. You start roasting the others just to kill everyone in the room. The New Américan will for ALLS.

We needed to believe something else. And kickstart a new social system. A way in which we live a contraction like our own. What already have. That’s the trap. Our best shot is what we got. But not ruled by assholes. Because we point them out, and we bring them into Plaça de Rei, and present them to the king, with this new job in kindom of his mind.

Hulk, I’m calling you a fag.

Where do I hide the hooker? Why don’t you hide them in your movies, they’ll never be seen again.

Hulk Hogan is a fag. Jeffrey Ross. Fat jew back in the phrase fat fucking jew. Jeffrey Ross used to have hair. Now i get his bald face. Guys want to hear some dick jokes. A man of a thousand voices all of the Stewie.

Finally a jew gets to roast a german. The german joke with Ann Frank. The breathalizer says, one by one people.

What are the chances of an alchoholic getting No means no, Michael. Special EMMI for holding your stomach. At the end you had the bigger tits. And you run slow. There she is looking as beautiful as never. Jerry Springer paying a hooker with a personal check. The both made envarasing videos with meat stuck in their mind. Hey i’ve been hoffer a job. They say talent skips a generation: you are probably awesome. Hile Hasselholff. Who then salutes romanly. To answer the nazi joke. A german way of holding back. To be a sport. What germans are.

We need to respect Bayern Munich and talk to Ter Stegen. And say: go for it: you deserve it. His talent is being unrecognized like Keylor’s in Real Madrid.

The crowd calling Jerry. Who’s the slizziest?

Too soon, Hulk. Somebody came in your mouth joke.

Suck it off.

I am not going to finish this. Wait, here comes Pamela. The sexiest woman in the world of long ago. Pamela: this is find. Every roast need a dumb blonde with big tits. How can we do a roast without Jeffrey Ross. I can’t swim. Don’t worry I can’t act. No Pamela, read your lines with more emotions like this. He gave mouth. There are no roles for someone like me in gay porn. Yes they are, he said. Hasselhoff cd cracking in the flames. Overshadow you on a tv show again. Pamela to David. I love you, after a hollywood kiss.

Rupert Gotfree. I don’t knwo half of this people. It’s hard for Seth to do a roast because the Simpson’s hasn’t done it yet. Like all the numbers coming from . The geenie calling Asshalholff. Geenie joke running on the beach. Pamela and David. She get’s slammed twice. About the size of her vagina. It’s definately macho. But it’s a roast. Never been in anything good, except Pamela Anderson. Did you and Pamela… Keith get me out of here. I’m not very good looking but I’m rich as shit. David and I have been in Broadway. David sang more like an actual lawyer.

Is he looking at me. Laughting at a gay muscular guy. You know… muscular guys.

Still. A double jerkoff.

Witney cummings. Fisty guy, with a lot of spunk on her neck. The only diference is that mexicans work. Hulk all the jokes I made to Pamela apply to your daughter.

New Américans have gotten a taste for insolence.

We can dig that.

Roast New Américans.

And globally turn into a new system complete.

ALLS

Comedy central tries to sell you a tv show. Bruce enters in a Harley. We’s still bald.

How do you go at Bruce?

Have you got balls?

Are you ready for this?

What a carreer. A development. The whole nine … twelve monkeys, no Oscars. The sixth sense. Acting against the kid. At the end of the sixth sense Bruce goes back to doing shitty movie. I played Bruce where I was the fast and the furius. Ashtone and Bruce. I don’t give a fuck attitude. One of the three founders of Planet Hollywood. Not the one who won an Oscar nor the one who became the governor of California. Demi is going to be here tonight. And she’s wrote some memories and is selling it right now. So we hear allthree of you. Live.

Speaking of eating pussy, Cibyl. Tight vagina jokes. Clean shaven jokes from a comedian who is funny and a serious Esperanza Aguirre. Kevin Pollock is here. One of the greaters Robin Willis. Cybil. Modern, actor, singer, her resume is impressive, Cybel, you slippy potato. How did you have a strioke in both sides of your head. I just met Denisse trying to sell me incense outside. Eduward Norton is here. You marryied a nice guy and then he became an asshole. Impressive in . I know you as a star who you find … I’ve never seen one of your film. A nuckle from a guy coming in your eye. A lot of people . You are so cool, you hard, your children must be so proud of their father, Ashton Kusher. Or warever.

Los mexicanos entendemos el pinche humor gringo las viejas cagadísimas que nos enseñan las señales de luz hacia el paraiso de los blancos: lo que la derecha latinoaméricana consigue con algo más de son que nuestros blancos congéneres del norte. Vamos a repartirnos el espacio. Vamos a decir que estamos todos en la misma tierra. Los niños lo entienden. Salieron a la calle y lo expresaron juntos. Juntas. Todas las personas.

ALLS

Si yo fuera a presentarme a una elecciones me inventaría un partido político que se llamaría Las ventanas libres. O quizás se acabaría simplificando tras un debate abierto en las redes autoorganizadas determinadas a tomar el control de este puto desmadre. Y nos les digo más groserías porque a mi madre no le gustaría ver cómo a su hijo lo juzgan por ser malhablado. Señoras bien habladas. Aquellas que nunca dicen una palabrota. Si se echan pedos.

La sociedad la podemos dividir en dos. Está comprabado. O al menos aquí pretendo obtener el resultado por la vía del arte que me habría gustado presentar en mi tesis de doctorado en la frontera entre dos dos mundos mundos. Qué tal que necesitáramos nomás más espacio. Uno nuevo que ocupar. Para nosotros. Los nuevos. LN. El partido que gana las elecciones en un nuevo mundo.

NUEVO MUNDO.

Ya. Este. Le voto.

---

Ahí lo acabo. Esa línea me lo permite. Secciones le llaman. O historias coherentes. Los editores buscan historias coherentes. Los autores simplemente suscribímos las órdenes que nuestro cerebro lanza a nuestros dedos. Los que escribimos a máquina. Hay máquinas que escriben con la pura voz.

Máquinas ticatalanas.

Producto.

Soy un emprendedor. Lo dije hace tiempo. Pero pues no salí por circunstancias. Yo dije que había nacido para jugar futbolarte. Así que me fui al lado del arte a completar la obra que tengo que completar en la cancha. Yo pude haber escrito esto hace nueve días que el mercado del futbol tal cual lo conocemos hasta ahora. Ese mercado capitalista. La resolución de nuestra distopia descomunal. La existencia como tal. Si compramos la tesis de ESOS pendejos. Estamos en el hoyo.

Bienvenidos al HOYO.

La tesis de que teníamos que seguir por la vía de la tradición.

Unos matones con armas letales, químicas, de gas, con infantería del siglo diecisiete. Rollo: la astucia de Napoleón. Su instinto killer que los franceses intentan apuntalar dentro de su crónica de gloriosos exploradores militares heteropatriarcales. Sois machos también. Tout le monde. Vous… ici. Ausi.

Je veux quelque chos: je vu aller a … vous savez… vous… et moi.

Je suis d’un autre pais. Mon pais est petit. Tres petit. I tropicale. Nous avons a republique aussi com vous. Nous avez l’admiració de votres culture com une revolution. Com ça… volia. Vous etes com ca, monsieur. Vous nez pouvez venir maintenant ici i parler de je ne sais bien quin histoire d’un autre capital au centre d’Europe: Paris. I vous avez la posibilité d’arrivé ici avec un discurse d’un autre diux. Le monsieur pere, vos savez?

Ça c’est com nous interpretés, monsieur Mohammed: ALLAH est avec nous… mantenaux. Mantenaux c’est ne pa que je ne sé pas votre longe correctament, que ça c’est sure, mais la question c’est tre surrealiste si nous pouveix allez dans la direcció de nostre plus grande insolent. Des insolents. Le neuveulle troup d’astist de sur la montaigne. Le futbolart que nous, Ticatalans, arrive maintenant a presenter vous, pouve de la rue. La RUE. Mon partit politic pour presenté a un autre realité colectif que je pouvez presenter avec Keylor a Pompidú: neuf jour cuantum futbolart.

The exageration of a close compromise in a day deliverance. Nine days only. A window of opportunity…closing.

And we take public space. We are going to kill it anyhow. Tonight. Here. Right here: mark my words.

#hererighthere

I’ve done my writings. Undergound.

#ALLS

Bicentenario.

Me quedan pocos minutos para celebrar este bicentenario como Dios manda.

Porque Dios estuvo ahí. Y ahora. Ahora lo sabemos bien. Existe: sos vos.

Soy yo, menso.

Efectivamente se trata de una palabra disriminatoria para las mensas. No las incluyo. Primero, usé el singular. Y segundo no despelegué la lengua. No me refería a ellas. Piropo feminista.

Pero tapas la realidad con tu argumento sexista. Macho. Que es lo que eres.

Un grupo de mujeres se dan cuenta de lo que otra les susurra: es un macho, es verdad. Yo le creo.

Cayetana pasaba por ahí. Super elegantosa. Muy bien vestida. La misma cara de siempre. La nobleza permite ciertos aires de Buenos Aires.

La vida es continuo cruce con argentos.

Un viacrucis, pues.

¿A qué viene al cuento, justo hoy, España, México, Argentina, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala, Colombia, Chile, Paraguay, Uruguay, Bolivia, Ecuador y Perú?

Ojo con la discriminación al indio. Los dejaron al final. Como en su momento hacen los machistas con las mujeres. Al final. Si eso. Si se acuerdan. Mientras están haciendo su desmadrito homoerótico con sus cuatachos remochos y bien calientotes. Unos hijos de la gran PUTA, con todas sus letras.

El joven, o maduro, de derechas no ve ofensivo utiizar la expresión hijo de puta. No es machista, al tenor de la tradición que nos precede. Es un argumento que ha sabido representar una vez que vio a uno más listo ponerlo sobre la mesa de un debate de bar en el barrio de los Austrias, un lunes 15 de septiembre de 1919.

De pronto ya es 16 de septiembre. Suenan las campanas en la nueva capital: New Barcino. Sus repiques recuerdan que hace 200 años acabaron de repicar las campanas para avisarnos que la guerra había terminado: que éramos finalmente libres.

No es sólo México que celebra. Celebramos toda New América.

Me distraje en una búsqueda en Internet. Podemos ir a internet, a varios sitios, a buscar respuestas a nuestras dudas. Prácticamente todo está descrito en la red. Lo importante es quién filtra. Y qué respuestas ofrece. Un oráculo, como aquellos que la mitología nos ha descrito de varios pueblos ancestrales, y otros más imaginarios, ya está en nuestras manos. Esa herramienta es Internet. Lo que Ralph intentó romper. Pero no le fue posible. Ni subiendo al edificio de Google, como si lo que nos impresionó con el boom industrial neoliberal que construyó torres fantásticas en todo el mundo. Hasta el capitalismo… kaput.

No fue mi intención matar al capitalismo. El capitalismo sufría graves señales de cansancio. Las mismas, con matices, salvo algunas cosas, que el Reino de New Spain.

New Spain consiguió amortiguar lo que estaba matando al resto de los estados: la falta de risa. El machismo de las manadas. Votantes antimorados. Por la gracia de Dios y en defensa cruzada de la unidad de España y de la unicidad de Dios Padre. #fuckjesus

#fuckjesus es un broma.

No vaya venir un fundamentalista a pedirme mi boleto de entrada a la fiesta de San Pedro.

Señores, señoras: yo ya vivo a la izquierda del Padre. Soy el hijo mayor de Dios Padre, Nuestro Señor, por los siglos de los siglos: ALLS.

Papá me mandó a poner orden, bola de zátrapas. Ya está bien, hombre. Al final hay que hacerlo uno todo. Papá, ¿por qué no vas tú? Este lío está muy gordo. Que lo resuelva tu puta madre. Ausencia de afectada. El hueco por el cual me colé por la tangente del feminismo. La madre de Dios padre. Insultada. A recibir, por culpa del «hijo», un gratuito improperio gritado por un Santo Español de toda la vida: San Venancio.

Esa estatua de San Venancio cagándose en la puta madre de Dios Padre fue la última en colocarse en la fachada de la Iglesia de Elizondo.

El evangelio de San Venancio.

De todos los presentes en la época de Jesús, tan sólo 4 escribieron lo que vieron. O bueno, de oidas. Como si tuvieran, durante 99 años, tiempo para recopilar las memorias de una vida de revolucionarios que empezó en otro momento que todavía recordamos en nuestra historia reciente. 1819. 1919. 2019.

El tiempo pasa a la misma velocidad en cada vuelta. Cada giro del planeta parece mantener su cadencia. De no hacerlo perderíamos momentum, y el equilibrio sagrado, por el cuál no colapsamos todos hacia el sol. Eso nos lo enseño Mr. Harmon.

En el año 11 de mi educación Mr. Harmon me enseñó todo lo que se de física. A esa edad ya debes saber de lo que están hablando. Son la cosas que nos unen con los planetas. No necesariamente el Niño de Elche. Aunque también. El despertar de los sentidos de la mente joven que transita a la edad adulta.

Los mexicanos festejan el grito. El inicio de la lucha de independencia. Fue un 15 de septiembre, de 1810. La crónica de la lucha es su metáforma más efectiva para ensalzar el patriotismo que sirve los intereses de la cohesión del pueblo ante símboles de unidad. Despegarse de la historia pasada tanto como convenga, con la dignidad de los franceses y del último pais en consolidarse: New América. Los centroaméricanos festejamos el final de la lucha de independencia. La firma de un arcuerdo con el que cerramos lo que México, de la mano de un cura, como mínimo, consiguió con una sedición y revelión que se llevó varias eucaristías y uno que otro cristiano. La guerra es la consecuenciaa de nuestro juego sucio.

México y Centro América unidos por un día conmemorativo. Pero los mexicanos no celebran el final de la lucha. Sino tan sólo el final. Pero la llegada de España a la celebración pone a todo el mundo en tensión. Este rey no tienen la sabiduría de otros.

Hoy campaña fue campeona del mundo; otra vez. Eso se cosigue llegando a finales. Y ganándola. Con la misma actitud. Con la magia del vestuario cohesionado.

México se proyecta como un par sobre Centroamérica. Y estos dejan de verle como un imperio que coquetea con aplastarles. La lucha común es lo que se queda fuera. Los némesis compartidos. Debates de nuestro pasado común. La vuelta a la Nueva España. Pedirle por favor a España que no se vaya. Que resucite la Nueva España. Aquello que fuimos en ese contexto de Commonwealth de petatiux.

Los sistemas globales requieren de tecnología y narrativa. Aquí tenemos ambas. Y sólo nos falta que nos escuchen usteds, las fmilias, si gustan.

Supercuidadoras concilia familias enemistada por conspiraciones.

Novelas del centro y de la periferia.

How much can we become? That didn’t come out right. Sometimes I don’t express myself the way I am supposed to in terms of clarity. I wonder. I get off. And just keep going. Like the fucking Energizing bunny. I am an advertizing metaphor. Those people have the power to enter your mind and make you do things you don’t want to do. They are playing with your mind. Your weaknessess. Your confidences. And you’ve given facebook and amazon permission to know who you are, what you buy, and google knows what you are up to. Right now. I mean, the fucking chinese handling your phone manufacturing do too. Do you think that the spyware on those mobiles that come from China are then checked by a solid team of entrepeneurs in Silicon Valley? What would do you belong to?

LIfe’s gotten too complex. It’s virtually impossible to disguise in the middle of all this mockery. I’ll just name some of our great world leaders of the time, so that history could nail this for eternity. Hold your hails for the end. We don’t want you nazis getting too fucking tired trying to be roman again. Sit on it for a second, or two… or forever.

Are we bullying the bully?

That’s the sort of question that’s on the table right now. And somehowe the people are getting anxious. Too much good old licor and easy tales flying around to tease us. We need someone who thinks like us. Other wise we are doomed. For eternity. Like purgatory souls wondering what either alternative looks like. Heaven; hell… common. Get your dick out of your asshole.

Life has become a big taboo. Or a fake new scandal featuring you. You are finally at the cover of a multiversal «newspaper». Right. Whatever. I told you: fake.

News. What’s your status? How do you feel? Where is all this taking us? How are keeping surreal?

This is it. For real. I am back in the game. I’ve been forced. I stepped off for a while. Didn’t play ball. I’ve been observing. And now I come back with a surreal proposal. The last thing that this country needed to come out of the lock down mode we’ve all turn into. People, democracy can save us. Just don’t follow the rules. Listen. Argue. Become knowledgable about the other. Their real newspeak. And think you are that for a second. Drop prejudice. For good. You don’t need fear. Of what? Armagedon? Seriously? Life’s gonna end. For all. Lets not let this fuckers macho who translate the alfa animal instinct of our species as our holy grail to get back into the flowing with the vedas game. Let’s start reading the right german philophers right. Let’s start with Nietzsche.

Imagine that in the new public school system. As a project. Early on. Like introducing kids to spirituality. All of it. Life and death. The new rules. The old ones. The new milenium resolution. Something to do with humankind. All of us. At once. Today. Like watching a series. Something anybody can do. From their own room. Or commuting. In your earpods. You stinking posh.

So neoliberal dickhead: here’s my message of comming to age. Fuck your lifelong struggle with communist and your obsesion with Rusia. Or at least, give us a fucking break. We know about Chile. And them Chicago boys. And the advertizing for the masses. Markets work tight. They are selfregulating like a random poem that somebody else recites. We are somehow bonding. Continiously. At awe. Yet we struggle within. And cope.

Learn to cope.

Lessons to live.

Lessons to die.

Lessons to stop your public fights. Forgive your enemies, as they give sense to your opposite view. Without them you are not complete. Let’s give room to all our past deamons instead of wanting the Spanish Inquisitions to kickstart her way back into the scene. The chariot is ready. The manuals have been kept in secret rooms of romanic towers in ancient monasteries. Just bring back the catars. It’s all making sense now. We are mextizo bitches. And we’ve assumed your rapist past. Now it’s your turn.

Golman’s speach in Angish Anonimous left the white folks itching for revolt. The revolt of the 1%. Are we going to forbid their right?

Or isn’t this shitty status quo what they are slipping under our door?

Fuck it. We are read citizens. We even hold an argument or two. And we sure love to pick a fight for just about any stupid excuse. Let’s drop something really dear to us. Like letting Brexit go. As an act of kindness. Something good for the commons. A new commons perhaps. A new everything. A new anything. Like a nation. Or the newest banana republic: Ticataluña. How will the other banana republics recieve in the public arena their last sister banana?

Minionlike.

Life’s already been transformed into a movie. Last resource left is to assume documentalism as the ultimate collective flow to a sudden rise of joy: ALLS.