Publicado el

Unpublished author manuscript

NEW

I’m the new author of this story. I just wanna make that clear. First things first. My name is Golman, at your NEW collective desire: tico commons.

My aspiration is beyond your grasp.

Nine levels up.

People come ask me what I’m talking about.

I always make up a NEW story.

That’s my thing.

We should live up to our potential.

I have to two best bosses: HERRA and HIMRA.

HIMRA could’ve been HIMRM.

But he chose to be just that.

We’ll dual, y’all.

That’s my phrase.

Shit I wrote for my character to say.

To speak out loud.

To tell the whole 999 story through.

YeahrighmuderfaK, I’ve uped-up-the-antee, biatches.

Biatches got me in trouble.

That’s rotten business.

You’ve got to keep surreal.

That’s the other end.

The unnamed.

You’ve never been triggered this way.

Not quite this other way.

Now I’m ready to flip back time.

Instead of going where those fools are pointing at.

As the antipodes of where I’d like to center our LAST EXODUS: NEW.

NAW.

And you are to be taken to 999 alternative scenarios.

All of them different.

Can you handle different?

YES
NO

ALLS

All of them through: entirerity.

Be entirerity a thing.

A NEW thing.

That’s the spirit of innovation.

The really what for?

The where the hell is the philosofical discussion that we ought to have to solve our 9 greatest challenges.

I’ll tell you what.

I’ll explain the nine challenges I consider my candidates for what’s to come in favour of this NEW kind of governance, resilient alternative system, with a dual estate of affairs that is at the antipodes of the current status quo. The one we live. The one we inhabit. In the middle of all of this? Where should we place our public money to be invested in the transformation towards a NEW resilient sustainable ecosystem of social reconsiderations of the whole thing, at once, with its 9999 levels of complexity. Would you handle that many dimentions of freedom, sister?

My sisters answer:

Laura: . . . . . . . . .

Adriana: . . . . . . . .

Alejandra:. . . . . . . . .

&

Golman: . . . . . . . . .

Al día siguiente: reversed time.

Then: them.

The FATHER NEW

The MOTHER NEW

My dimention is right next to Jesus’ left.

That’s the title of this piece of NEW shit: microbiota.

What would we collectively invest in?

Outrank the current game.

And let’s jump right to a NEW one.

And so be NEW.

NEW.

ALLS

La dualidad está en la barra lateral y cómo te mueves entre alternativas posibilistas de una crónica adaptada a tí. Tu mismo.

Yo entre esas dos historias tengo la simplicidad de quien soy, en aquello que imagino, en lo contrario, y en lo que salga de esta lectura y reescritura de un místico (y de alguna manera hipersurrealista, mítica) porvenir alternativo que de pronto fuimos capaces de imaginar entre un huevón y un superman, sin más pretensiones que la escoger un único superhéroe, como la microestupidez acotada a sólo ünö.

Los autores NEW metaescribimos.

Sí tú le entras a este pedo, nos vas ir todos juntos. . . . . . . . .

Waco, Texas. Nike: on. . . . . . . . .

My only atempt to tell a NEW américan story.

And it won 9 oscars. It blew NEWLA again. Like that first time. . . . . . . .

The first, you see, you don’t know what clicked it. Something did. You off the roof. And all the way up. To the highest hype.

ALLS

What’s ALLS all about. . . . . . . .

GOLMAN . . . . . . . .

Typewriter: my futbolart printer. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, …, 99,… 999,… 9999,… 99999,… 999999,… 9999999,… 99999999,… 999999999 . . . . . . . . .

That many copies too.

And then nomore.

Nomore.

Norm.

Gol.

MAN

NEW

ALLS

Soc l’Albert Serra de Besalü. . . . . . . . .

En tinc una cosa molt d’aquí. Del meu poble en aquest mon 9: Ticataluña.

Jo no vaig neixer aquí. Ho reconec. Està al meu historial, a la meva biografia, a la página web, al meu perfil de Linkedin, a la meva web, pero no feu cas, que potser no diu les coses que vosaltres haguesin escrit abans de pensar que lo que uno deia podria, i seria, utilitzat en contra teu. Perque ara pots estudiar la picologia dels escriptors, d’això que han dit, als seus llivres, llegint-los. La revolució és esser lector. Això lo primer. I per aqui vaig fer el meu propi camí. Des d’aquestes coordenades. Just dins d’es banys jueus. Protengint-me, i als meus, la meva filla, la meva mujer de Barcelona, sa meva sogre de Georgetown, es meu cunyat d’Es Grau, les meves nebodes de Granollers, els meus tiets de Sant Martí, la meva familia del Gòtic, les meves 9 senyoretes d’Avinyò, els meus 9 camps de GOL. . . . . . . . .

Estava fent la meva 9a pelicula del mític duel entre Besalú i Olot, que l’Albert i jo vam co-crear en un duel entre dos dimensions d’alteritat d’ambit multiversal. El texte deixava poc marge a tots els actors d’Olot, i Banyoles, que are no em recordo d’on eres, noi, pero jo he vingut aquí a jugar futbolart, i així ho vaig compartir amb gent del meu poble, i fins a 999 estàn d’accord de fer aquest paripè, de tant en tant, en dies no establert, només d’un a l’any, en el que la millor peli d’acció es converteix en una competició entre dos pobles antagonics que resol en nou dies de duels esportius, nivell colegues del poble, en nou dimensions surrealistes alternatives.

Les 9 surrealitats del bàndol d’Olot estàn guionitzades. Pero tant bé, que les han assumit com propies. Tothom està content. Excepte ü. El personatge que fa d’Albert en aquestes dues ciutats reconfigurades a partir d’una proposta de cinematografía d’autor que clarament està influenciada per la dualitat entre les forces d’una i altre narrativa envers veïnats.

L’Albert s’emprenyava de que no pogués ficar-hi ma. Noi, no és la teva peli. Li diu un personatge de la seva confiança. El seu millor colega local. La colla d’amics. Fins a 9 d’ells. Homes. Disciples i co-autors. Lectors. Gent de cine independent. Amb feines. I assatjos, il·luminació, la càmara d’en Jimmy Gimferrer, mirant-ho tot i flipant.

Seria molt més fàcil, orgànic i boni deixar-li a l’Albert llibertat creativa. Pero aquesta és la gràcia de l’història. Tothom sap que farà el paper d’Orson Wells quan cal guanyar-li al demoni. I aquesta és la gràcia. D’aquest paper. Tant ric. Tant bó per ell. Pero no d’ell. Amb tot lo que això representa. Dins seu. No poder ser-hi.

Se la repampinfla. Li sua un ou. El dret. Ben rasurat. Amb navaja.

Ell, ell,…

Aquest diàleg m’apropa als nominat de Gaudí.

El digital twin.

GolmecanAI havia creat un digital twin ticatalan para incloure un estat alternatiu que anès per lliure: entre Gaudianament i Dalileanament. I quelcom d’ell. De l’inombrable Albert.

Prometo que això no quedarà com un final del foraster. O per qué no. Tirant-ho a la nostra vessant més surrealista comú que podem dir que tenim entre Olot i Besalú. Quelcom que ens uneix. Que en el fons sóm Germans. Cosins. I némesis.

Beneit sigueu.

Com estem?

Shelvivillers.

Un odi que es trasllada de manera precipitada en nous direccions ortogonals a la realitat actual. La que cadascun d’aquest dos pobles fa avui dia amb la seva vida, i al mig de tot això. Això siguen tant gran com vosaltres vulgueo. Torneu-vos lliures. Plens. Multiversats. Feu servir les noves eines que us perferccionen, més enllà de lo que ens haviem pogut imaginar. Fins ara el tema era aquest. Fins ara que és aquest.

Podria escriure un guio que ho tanqués tot. Tota una creativitat collectiva esbiaxada a posta. Com a mena de simbol de la narritva i lo que el conflicte en sí representa, en el planol més demencial que ens hi podem retroalimentat en el directe d’una reacció pura de l’interpret del personatge d’Albert. No necesariament Albert. Sense donar-li opció.

Un personatge fent d’Albert. No ell. Impolut. Francés.

Jo mateix puc fer els dos rols.

Per fer el baix pur.

Deixar-ho fora de l’acudit.

Per fer la punyeta al veí.

Per continuar amb la narrativa bélica.

O més aviat per entendre que això pasava a la periferia de la historia. I que patim. Lo que volen dir que importa anar cap allà i tot lo contrari. Aquest espai alternatiu neix avui dia. I tira enrera. En el temps. En un espai dual. Mentrestant el status quo trontolla. Fa el tonto. Con fins ara. Fins que de sopte, Golman planteja quelcom word: ALLS . . . . . . . . .

Scounting Banyoles.

Un director cada escena. Cada exterior con una composición dramática i escenográfica que se despliegue en 9 dimensiones diversas de nueve homenajes creativos de un cine que nos encuentre a medio camino, desde los niveles de sublimación alterados desde las antípodas. La incapacidad de coexistir. Los ámbitos de revolución: nuestra | antagónica.

El primer encuentro, tras un encuentro secreto de los dos, en nueve sitios distintos, entre Olot, Banyoles, Besalú, Carmelo, Gótico, Horta, Tibidabo, Teixonera, Vall d’Hebron.

Los nueve directores. Los puede escoger él. Será más pura la elección. Y abrimos el espacio de co-creació. Entendiendo e introduciendo en unos diálogos que en realidad llevan al personaje a complacer la manera en la que diseñamos su antagonismo. Como autor consagrado del arte cinematográfico que remueve la estética y la ética desde la construcción de una surrealidad en paralelo. Sólo que está vez conlleva una reflexión mayor. Un proceso de elongación de la existencia. La ingravidez de nuestro alter ego en las ficciones que nosotros mismo le alimentamos a las IAs que por ahí ya están comenzando a hacer el rol del desgraciado, o de los surrealistas lectores de Bolaño, que fueron los primeros en entrar en el loop de esta historia que se desvela a partir del giro de guión más espectacular de toda la historia, el tiempo y el espacio, dentro de los límites colectivos, cognitivos, conductuales, neuropsicológicos, neurotransmitido, readiografiado y almacenado en una base de datos común, en un fichero que se le envia a una IA que hace cosas para nosotros. Algo que no programamos.

99 cosas a decir

Una lista 99. . . . . . . . .

Si H1 es el título principal. H2, H3 y H4 podrían ser conclusiones. No sólo subtítulo. Y en cambio la gramática del ticatalán lo permite. Cuando las otras lenguas no la contemplaban. Eso es lo que hace algo NEW.

NEW way.

NEWAY

99 sharp metaframes.

Just

Hice una tarea. Ponerme de acuerdo para quedar 2 h a trabajar. A co-crear.

Recovering data. . . . . . . . .

A new question mark was something nobody was expecting to so damn innovative. This is why you should never ever just follow the herd, as a ship, if what you want is to make something unique. This is what I’ve always wanted. And I’ve never really comply with fitting in. I’ve done my own thing. And also understood the rules. Somehow. To try to make the play towards my particular way to look at the whole thing from my very own personal perspective. My POV.

You see is much like being an artist. You are not an artist by copying what others are doing. You could seem to be. You just need to keep doing it. Fake it till you make it. In this sense an artist and an innovator are much alike. They need to have a vision and then pretend they are on that path. I’m a professional in having a vision. I do it collectively.

I’m a strategist. I was trained to be one. Or I was brought up in an environment where I could pick up the knowledge and the practice to fulfill the tasks required to do so. I was junior consultant, and then a senior one. Then I became a manager. A project manager. And that’s where the system identified that I was fit to be. A team player. Without the hassles of decision-making in higher spheres. The management boards.

Once you enter into those boards, you become a kinged pond. You gain power and momentum. You need to be executive. And figure out what the platoon is doing, while providing key insights to top-level management, so they can go to the top and pretend the system works. Team work. Institutional work. Executive governance. Public or private, I’m just a working class asset. Nothing more; nothing less.

Creativity on the other hand is a working class blue ocean. Nobody can dictate what Kafka, as a government worker, can write about on his Olivetti outside the working hours marked in his card. He’s doing the job. Much like K. And day in, day out, he’s expected to do so. In a similar way, I do that for my well designed post. I can do what the job description does. I can follow through and perform the tasks that are assigned. Are the tasks fitted for what’s expected of the job? Like you’ve been given a job on asteroids. And with it, the potential to go beyond. You have been gifted with the opportunity to use in this role the very thing that makes you unique in order use it in the most desireble and feasible fashion in order to target the greatest good for all.

Somehow I’ve been casted to do that. I’ve been hired as K. I’m expected to that burocracy, while comming up with a Castle, a Process, a Metamorfosis. And I’m ready for it.

ALLS

Publicado el

Moo Pak moves me in dimentions in every page of the walk

Walking and talking.

That’s been kind of my thing for a while. Instead of walking with someone, I’ve done an isolation exercise to talk to myself, while also assuming to be talking to the world. That’s right, the world is a big place, I know, but I’m really talking to myself to project something about that walk that is completely ethernal. A simple description, or a most profound insight that’s just poped into my head. And bum, like that, it’s out in the world.

Of course if I was only intending to put out the word into the open I’d just need to speak the word, and forget about it. Then it’d be like an oblivious wisper. And that would be fine. I still have moments like that, I quite enjoy them myself. I let them pass. And begone. But the obsession of a writer is to catch those moments, and that’s why you see suspicious people writting little notes in notebooks all over the place, nowadays. They are the strange remainings of a cult of people who are unsatisfied about their whereabouts, and still get the desire to create an alternative world. Through art. And it all starts with that unsual idea. That unimagined thought, that somehow, who knows really how, came to you. And you didn’t let it go. You caught it. And secured it.

I’m the slower reader of Moo Pak. I average two pages every time I sit. Cause there’s something in each page that jumps up and bits me. And I don’t get to scribble at the edges of the printed page, as it happens to be a borrowed book.

I know I could just keep going. I could just keep reading. And that would be fine too. Like letting an idea fly by. But I’m in catchy mood. Specially about a book so decisive to me, as I’ve let to believe that this book will be. I’ve placed my faith upon a reading exercise that could turn my idea catching into an actual writting of my own. It’s an ownership exercise. And a style flagrant stealing. Or rather a inspiration. A tribute. Ain’t it all the same thing?

But this did not come by itself. I was lead to this book. I was introduce to this reading exercise by the recomendation, and lending, of a book someone else thought of when he read a notebook of mine. Ferran Ràfols is Anagrama’s go to guy when translating a complex and profound text published in English or in French. He’s Foster Wallace in Catalan. Or Amelie Nothom every year. But most importantly, he’s Gabriel Josipovici in Moo Pak. So he’s not just a pasionate reader, but a gifted translator, and a prominent writer, as all translators must be, he’s also kind enough to read my unpublished notebook. He provided me with not just notes, but references, and honest feedback on what he kept reading through, without exactly knowing what was there, and not just made it through, but pointed me to two references that I’m now reading to prepare the launch of my very own formal writting aspirations in the literary realm, what ever that means.

So every page I read, I need to get hooked in Moo Pak’s tide, as a surfer who’s spot the right wave to catch. And in every attempt, the same result: a perfect drop and yet another writing spur to ignate the fire of my own literary treat. It’s the topics of that conversation. And the electric current in a continuos motion that will never stop. Our own concious mind, linking back and forth the previous thought that is build into words, in a convesation worth having, with a good friend to walk with.

Now I know I speak too much. I’m a chaterbox. I must confess. But you would have already guessed if you are still staring at my face. And I know it’s rude. That’s why I don’t do it public anymore. It steals people’s time. They have rather more important and relevant things to do. They have their own opinion. And they don’t want to listen. Just listen. So I don’t speak in public anymore. I rather listen. And write. But for my own pleasure. For my own futher understanding. To cope with me. I too myself get tired of this chaterbox. But it doesn’t stop. And I’ve learn to love what bugs me. As I often see it as a way forward. As an inevitability. The dark side of moon. Even if we never see it. If we only get, in that one case, just one face. You know the other exists. But we don’t get to experience it. Does that mean that the moon does not rotate in its own axis?

Bookshops. That’s the thing that stroke me about Moo Pak on this given page I got stuck with. Bookshops in London, Paris or Lisbon. Bookshops sell books. Readers go to bookshops to read. There is a transaction, both economically, socially and transformationally. But it takes sometime to feel the groove for bookshops. And why one should go. And how book people mingle there, wether working, wether planning the next master move to grow inside the complex spider web of cultural and intellectual show. Because it’s a great show. With lights, with debates, with aristocracy, with labor, with unbelievable out of blue success stories from nobodies that made themselves up, by becoming a writer… and actually making that connection with readers who got hooked in to a narrative. In itself, every writer is looking to express himself in made-up stories that either hide him, or reveal her.

A choice of words sometimes defines you. And you get to speak your mind. To get close to the actual shake-up. You are actually struggling to say what you must, without saying too much, or going outside of the stream of conciousness, because you know yourself too well. There is not time for all this blabery. Too much bla, bla, bla as Greta has expressed beautifly. ¿Thunberg or Gerwig?

All of the sudden I don’t know which one of the three I want to be. You noticed that the choices could grow from two to three without a sweat. No guilt either. I can do whatever I want within the realm of my stream of writting. Wether that’s meaningful, or not, only the reader who bears me will go through. The rest will go back to their no-reader bit, or to their confort author. And that’s fine. I don’t blame him/her/you. We all have choices to make. References to climb, to then let go.

But my life could very well be a rotating act among these three Gretas: Thunberg, Gerwig or Garbo. I might be mix of the three, but I can’t play my mixedtape role all the time. I have to focus like the did to get their legacy across. To speak your mind against the greater social challenges and threats as collaborative action becomes crucial. To write your own stories, and direct them. To interpret them. That’s me entering the show business. There’s no business like show business. It’s all still just a show.

«In Paris, as in Milan and Munich, he said, everything has turned into fashion, there are fashions in books and fashions in food, fashions in plays, fashions in clothes»

Jack Toledano – Moo Pak

This was written back in 1994. Fashionably things to do have turned into a megatrend that keeps rotating faster than we can imagine. But the thing is, when we talk about books we are also talking about the intellectual and cultural significance of those really relevant books. Not just the trends. And that has been shaken up. But look at the clarity of Josipovici when he pointed his character’s intuition towards this direction: «All this frightful tide of polluted water, this torrent of cliché and fashionable posturings must be avoided, he said, in England and in France, in Germany and in Italy if we are to live at all. Otherwise the dehumanization of the working in life by factory repetition and to the dehumanization of children’s life by video games will be added the dehumanization of intellectual life».

We might be there already, but at this point what stroke me the most is the actual interaction that those four European countries, and specifically, those four European cities, have in my current scenario as a new-commer to this old world. A reference to these countries, Germany, Italy, France and England, have a resonance my very own personal moment, in what I’d like to see it as insider perspective from within the European Union. At first, 24 years ago, when I first arrived to live in Europe, as an illegal alien, I didn’t quite grasp the entirety of the global political scene that the EU represented. I was lucky enough to have a roomate who was not only a firm Eurpean believer, he’d also done his economics master’s thesis on it, having lived in London, and having attended the prestigeous London School of Economics. This sort of formal knowledge of the EU, what it represented as a political instrument, was quite relevant to me in order to understand some early clues on the matter. Yet, as Jorge had the experience first hand, I was only experiencing the idea from an outsider perspective, comming from a Latinamerican scenery that could aknowledge a common cultural ground, and a rather diverse, unequal, polarized, contradictory. So in a way, my un understanding and disbelief had already been trained to understand the complexity of the EU, the aspirational dream, and the realpolitik involved.

After 24 years being «one of you», I can confirm that I am already a grown local foreigner. And just in time to step in. I was cautious enough to keep my ears open as I learned along the path to understand the context and surrounding of what was happening. It’s a joyride at first, if you are lucky enough to get the good toss of the coin. The lotary in this case favoured a good first 12 year lesson, with the necessary ups-downs-ups-downs, enough to know what’s the outmost feeling of love, acomplishment, and collective collaborative belonging; and also enough to know the cold hard ground you land on, face first, when you are dropped from the higher grounds and experience that journey to inner hell of your own dismantled humanity.

It’s a harsh learning curve. And we all get a piece of it. We’ve been through a global pandemic and still we are able to manage to leverage enough missinformation to have a blury clear understanding of what’s going on. Or we think we do. Lately, it’s been more transparently put, but all these years since I first came to this «old» world, with my NEW naif mentality.

But the most relevant element Josipovici, or rather Jack Toledano, left me on this page is this: «But it’s already too late, he said. It has already happened. The horror is already upon us and the only way we can fight it is to retreat to the fortress of ourselves prepare and prepare for a long siege.» That’s what I did. Ever since I started building my art, defining my format, aknowledging the words. When I did fall all the way down, the only way to build myself up was through my desire to come out of there. The rebuilding of myself, as a act of collective aknowledgment, with a vision of a personal quest, that could only be expressed by looking inside, in each piece a time, while bootstrapping my own NEW narrative.

ALLS

Publicado el

Dave Chappelle monologue in SNL right before 47th president Trump came back 2025

Dave Chappelle has been in the zone for quite some time. He connects with the American culture. And lives in Ohio. Right after Donald Trump lost his first election, he did the opening of the SNL. Then, years later, he also did the opening monologue when Trump came into office. And it’s only normal to see that Lorne Michaels insisted he did another one now that he’s back.

He did it twice already. And in a polarized society, some people are going to hate you for it. And I guess, those two previous monologues showed him. So he denied the invitation. And then he accepted to do one, but when Trump would be close to stepping again into the leader of the world job. So he suited up and prepare a set. And as usual, he was able to express the message that could bring the community back into a common understanding: we hope this guy does a good job. For everyone sake.

Hey, I’m Mexican. I doubt it.

The guy is player, and he’s got himself a new show. That we will see. I only still don’t understand how we can be so hooked to American entertainment, sports, culture and even to their comedy, to Hollywood, to their news, and soap operas. Still, we are addicted to this global dependency on a lousy gun-loving dream with a bag of paradoxes and contradictions that are so violently exposed, as the moral standard of a world-policing big brother hunts us down to plant the seed of fear of the beast. Wether it’s their new enemy, or their own menace to come out as they are.

ALLS

Publicado el

Make a difference

What to do when you have to do something else. Procastinate. That’s my life. I come here when I should be elsewhere, doing I don’t even remember what. So instead, I keep myself busy trying to figure out the time to get to the point. In the mean time, this.

It’s not an excuse. It’s rather a way out. Or a way in. What else should I be worried about if not something else trully more meaningful to me. I should be addressing my pressing concerns. And delivering the perfomance I aim to have if I get to the point right away. Something that leads to something else. I’m willing to take the stand. I’m leaping already.

It’s a gamechanging time. All the time. Everywhere. And I’m just getting started. But the ball is moving so fast I don’t seem to have the timing right. The ball has passed and I’ve lost the magic… unless the magic is there, still, and I’m just a few adjustements off, a few more drills away, to conquer back the state of mind needed for this performance to endure.

I’m ready to rock. Still, I need to do something else. I’ll get back to this when that’s done. But I wanted to make sure to give me this sigh.

So there.

Sigh.

ALLS

Publicado el

Between the 45th and the 47th president

This is an era of disruptive mechanisms to establish who shouts the loudests, and who used the IA tools in the best way to drive transformation and change in our society. It’s not clear. It’s not entirely out there, but the capacity of minorities to drive some doubtful and unproven evidence to the mainstream has turn the seek for truth in a distorted gullible everchanging scene.

It’s like a morphing meme.

Life has taken a turn. And we are riding a wave we don’t control. So the hidden forces has taken a stand and have looked for mechanisms to empower what they believe is most holly. To try to make it happen… for them. A new collective of desperate middle class has erupted with anger and dispear and has taken the lead and command in following the natural-born NEW leader.

This distopic scenario has been also the same sort of thing I’ve been dealing with along the path to understand we are at in this ever-changing world. And the character of that crazy candidate that comes from the raging force of societal cry against the machine used to be a feeling of some people, artist, dreamers, who were fighting to say something that was going against the flow of tides. And from that erupts an emergent field and force. And this takes over. For good.

That seems to have happened with the scenario of Don J. Trumb (like J. as Homer J. Simpson, if we must find a valid reference… everyman) comming back to the number one job at the top of the power ladder in the social scene that has been established in the risk board game we are all watching unfold. The regular players are sitting on the table. The forgotten ones are listening in, without a voice. There might be eight players in there, and their alliances, their similarities, their sinergies, their strategic partnerships, their codepencies, their histories, their commonwealth, their trade relationships, their common ancestors, the common culture, the common law, the kinds of governance, the royal families, the paradoxes. But there lies a ninth seat empty at the table. This is the only space left for us to take a stand. And I wasn’t ready for it, until now.

I’m not going to watch the American entretainment that this NEW american campaign has unleashed, one more time, for us to witness without a vote. The relationship of that executive body will lead to many experimental scenarios where those new people in charge will deal with the way in which the oldest democratic experiment is put to the test of withstanding a balancing act of checks and ballances that are to be ruled by a holy emperor who’s been send by God, according to his fellowship of whisperers and ballot validators.

Will the USA institutional system withstand after four more years of the Trump era. The setting the scene for a radical act is already going to happen as yet another entertainment show that is going to unleash the deamons that have some interconnection with the movilizing of resources and funds that come from highest debt generator since the gold-backed system turn the world around the printing money scheme that supports the modern economic theory of the last 60-80 years. Keynes vs Friedman. But the new set of people in charge are not that kind of theoriest. They are the Bannon-era of Cambridge analytica turn into the perfect gathering machine of a massive movement. This exercise, as Bannon intended yet back in the day, is intended to find the allies in external systems, in order to influence elections and restore leaderships. Something in the line of Russia’s hackers introducing fake-news in other peoples elections. It’s now mainstreamed. And people are already raging on it. Russia is already made a move in fueling the war economy to shaken the options of enemies and allies in terms of a response. This fuels the war economy and those who benefit from it, and also puts presure on the energy business, creating yet even greater havoc into people lives: everthing becomes more expensive.

So we are about to witness some geopolitical movements that will reshape some frontiers and some priorities in how we defend ourselves (always military budgets going up). De-escalation of violence is going to take yet another act of threat: we’ll take piece along the promise of some sort of giving up. Renouncination time. Some of our liberties and hopes. And we are going to move our red lines as well as our values as well as our frontiers. The enemy is always close by. The scape goat. The alibi.

If the world is going to move somewhere in the following four years, my guess is that it should move ortogonally in the direction where the given dimentions of our collective understanding have allowed up to now. The revolts in MAGA, the far right movements, the Arab Spring, Indigandos, the Catalan independentist, the Occupy Wall street, the 8M,… name any given sudden burst of revolution, is not nearly enough to find the common ground for an understanding. Now the situation is not equitable in each case. The actors and history. The violence is not equally distributed. The war on terror somehow shifted the scene into the new wars after COVID: Israel genocide in Gaza, and Russia invasion in Ukraine. The starting point are in the results from the WWII, a NEW state, a balancing act on how to repair the atrocities committed by the Nazis during the holocaust, and sionist dream of coming back home, as stated in an ancient tale. Because God said so. The ever-present man.

Where are thou?

Hear my son.

Here.

ALLS

Publicado el

Starting point

You are where you are. Life has brought you here. That’s the kind of thing everyone, anyone realle, a coach, an influencer, your spouse, your guru, your spiritual leader, your priest, your own private phisopher, your third eye, … would tell you: focus on the moment.

Now is the time.

There’s no other time.

You know about the past, about the future, how they don’t really exist. And then you are stuck with the moment. And the moment is gone. It just shifted. Like these words apearing in front of me.

Reading; writting.

It’s an act of connecting the fingers (in case you are typing), your mind, and the «paper». Or the screen, really. In this new version of the narrative scene.

Short and without derivatives.

I often speak too much. And loose the audience. Not really my thing to be concise and to the point. I don’t just play short and to the foot. I like risk. I elaborate plans. And then execute them. But if you don’t have your team with you. It’s worthless. You are on your own. And nobody is listening. You are just playing for a lame vacuum in your narrow limited story you tell yourself. That’s not the game. It’s your obsession.

Order and adventure

Aparently on day Jorge Luis Borges said that literature was order and adventure. Later, Cesar Luis Menotti repurpuse the idea and said that football was exactly that: order and aventure. Too much order, nothing happens. To much adventure, chaos.

A third derivative of that concept could be apply to impact-driven innovation adoption. What does that mean? Well intaking innovation that actually help to transform the system in a way that represents a higher value for the common good. I know, I know, I’ve lost you a bit. Bear with me. I believe that tha these type of innovation is also oder and adventure.

  • Too much order is not disruptive enough, not quick enough, not meaningful enough. Systems resist to change, if there is still a reward for the ones holding the cards. They would have no desire to move from that position.
  • Too much adventure, it just becomes a messy «I must jump into this bandwagon» by all means, regardless of the value or the direction I want to go to. You then generate some movement, but might jus be spinning in circles. Not quite moving.

So to drive truly meaningful transformational societal change, we must first share a vision of where all these things should be going. And to that, we are often faced with a bigger scale above within our role, as humans or as part of any given institution, that is being played in higher hierarchy. A higher dimention. So too much order is just helping the resistance to change to back up the status quo, while too much adventure is just helping the noise level to rise. How may impact-driven innovation then flourish among these two counter forces: with a proper mix of order and adventure.

This is true for the entrepeneur world and for the the demand-side actors who are willing to make an attempt to drive transformational change to their innovation ecosystem. With demand-driven innovation (pull), these two worlds end up meeting halfway. Conversely, business-driven innovation (push) may also find its way to undertand this as yet another meaningful arena to drive their impact as well as their ROI.

This is the starting point.

NAW is the time.

Let’s start a NEW journey.

Let’s implement our very own theory of change.

ALLS

Publicado el

Breaking gol

I’ve had a dream.

In this dream I was cruising into a coming to age story. I was unfolding the character within myself, invetably going down the slope of an enormous ordeal. I was clearly breaking gol.

Walter White was in the story, but it was actually me. So was Jessy Pinkman. It was in the middle of Karachi, in a round about that was ancient, a bit like it was 400 years ago, and still with the current chaos of a traffic jam from the confusion and flow of any given day in main road of this great city.

Somehow my character in the dream started doing some hipopressive exercises that eventually got me out of the dream, and into this post. And here we are. Or rather, here I am.

I’m about to break loose. I need to keep a sharp focus on what’s going to happen in between every count of my transformation. And the characters transformation, starting from the initial presentation of Golman. However it turns out to be. Whichever dimention I land into with. And I don’t control that. Not even from the moment I cannot dissasociate my own account, and the one that’s being delivered by this fictional story.

Fiction and reality merge. At some point you are playing the masks game. And you loose control as to which one of them really is you. I’ve come across the idea that the situation is not in place, and that my evolution as human being is ready to turn the page of yet another story. This story unfolds in the way in which I’m now ready to recite.

So here we go.

ALLS

Publicado el

Primer día de trabajo de septiembre: eterno retorno

El primer día de septiembre en España reinicia el sistema. Es un acto colectivo de volver a empezar que tiene un gesto climático que le acompaña: el calor tremendo del verano ha comenzado a disipar. Y para ello, la vestimenta y la puesta en escena ya es la de lo que nos queda del año: enfilándonos a las navidades.

Los años pasan rápido. Siempre al mismo ritmo. Un ritmo al cuál como humanidad nos hemos acostumbrado gracias a darle vueltas al sol con la misma cadencia. Es una insistencia que nos denota un equilibrio estable que tiene su historia propia con el resto de cuerpos celestes en el espacio, más puntualmente ligado al equilibrio de los planetas que conforman nuestro ecosistema solar.

Y el sol vuelve a salir. Y nosotros también.

Nos reencontramos en la ciudad y volvemos al trabajo. Las clases vienen después. Las familias se preparan. Igual que las escuelas. Pero eso vendrá después. De momento la transición es más de la playa a la oficina. Y toda la familia se mobiliza. Aquí el encanto.

Hace 22 años volví a reiniciar mi vida en un primer día de trabajo en septiembre en Barcelona. Volví para quedarme. Con dos maletas, de las cuáles, una no llegó. La de la ropa de trabajo. Volví a empezar y me reinventé. Volví a ser el nuevo.

Esta sensación, la de ser el nuevo, así como la de volver a comenzar, no me han abandonado nunca. Me convierto en este ser itinerante. Cada día de nuevo comenzar. Y volver a ser el nuevo. Y de este ciclo volver. Y tener la ilusión de transitarlo. Una y otra vez. Con el sentido de estar aquí. Presente. Volver. Volver. Volver.

ALLS

Publicado el

El nouvingut torracollons

No tots adoptem el mot que ens encanta.

Jo he apres a viure amb més de nou contradiccions.

I tant content.

I tant.

No se com dir-ho. Vull dir: no ser com explicar-ho.

És això que no ha passat mai pel teu cap.

No sé cóm dir-t’ho.

No ho entendries.

Mai, mai, mai, ho has vist.

Al teu cervell aquestes neurones mai no ha estat encesses.

Encessos.

Nova companya d’energia circular.

Del Tico Commons.

Es tracta d’un tema d’autor.

Jo ho he pensat així.

I a més a més ho escrit en forma de novela.

I de compte.

Curt.

Llarg.

Mega curt.

Mega llarg.

Sense sentit.

Amb traducció.

Amb il·lustracions.

Desglosat.

Simplificat.

Resumit.

En twits.

En valls.

En balls.

Sense bastons.

Només enxenetes.

Aixequem la primera columna de nou.

Amb folra.

I collons.

Com pit en tenia en Tito.

Va per tu!

ALLS

Publicado el

La distopia desbordada: espontáneo argento. . . . . . . . .

Si es que no hay escapatoria.

Estamos inmersos en la peor de las distopias.

La resistencia al cambio es brutal.

Es la fuerza más elocuente del poder.

Nada, nadie, se mueva.

Todo el mundo quieto.

Lo dijo Tejero.

Veamos.

¿Cuáles son las primeras 6 sugerencias del viejo G?

ALLS

Fin del primer relato.

Los cuentos tienen un fin esférico, según el maestro Cortazar.

¿Qué son los escritores sino maestros de la insolencia escrita?

Escribir sirve para liberarnos.

No es nomás la paz.

La paz del mundo según un nuevo video de 99 NEW américans.

Yo en 9 horas revierto la elección de una Argentina que muta a otro estado: NEWARG.

La sublimación de la elección y la liberación de las fuerzas fascistas que nos acechan.

La extrema acción de los más subnormales.

Igual para ellos estamos ahí.

Y ellos creen que sus brillantes ideas son mejores.

Heteropatriarcas con el ejercito a las órdenes del más ilustre general de la familia.

Ahí les va una historia de casta.

La casta de cada sitio se basa en su historia fundacional.

¿Cuántas generaciones para atrás?

Vamos a darle la vuelta.

Desarmemos al heteropatriarcado.

Como se trata a la violación del macho ibérico de su esposa: 99 tradiciones de los conservadores más píos de estas 9 religiones:

  1. Musulmanes
  2. Maradonianos
  3. Spaguetti Monster
  4. Golmaniáticos
  5. Esperanzados
  6. Fitness
  7. Vagancia
  8. Violencia
  9. Catolicismo según la dualidad de Jesús resucitado en Golman.

ALLS

Suponé que la Argentina se parte en dos.

Pongamos como ejemplo cualquier elección.

O si le has cagado a insultos a Lio.

Es una pregunta simple.

¿Vos has insultado a Lionel Messi?

SÍ, qué pasa.
NO

ALLS

Las dos Argentinas de Golman.

Es literatura de cronopios.

Golman es un cronopio emergente.

No existe.

Es divino.

Vos aceptaste que D10S es Diego.

Y ahí no hay debate.

Vos sabés.

Vos también insultaste a Diego.

Pregunta dos del cuestionario de NEWARGentinidad:

2. ¿ Vos insultaste, en voz alta, a Diego?

SÍ, qué pasa.
NO

ALLS

Vos sabés que me encontré con un argentino, un peruano limeño, un salvadoreño, un español, una alemana de Colonia, una sueca de Upsala, una salvadoreña, una española, un manchega de la Mancha, una valenciana, un asturiano, un leonés, un catalán, y un ticatalán.

¿Por qué iba a renunciar yo a quién he decido ser desde hace unos años?

Cambiar de afiliación es lo que nos corresponde como sociedad.

Pero también aportar valor.

Y hacerlo conscientemente.

Como parte del sistema.

Es complejo.

Pero estamos en ello.

Nuestro resultado es espectácular.

Yo me fui.

Y quise ser otra cosa.

Renuncié a lo que ustedes viven.

No me presentan.

¿Lo recuerdan?

Lo vivimos acá. En Barcelona.

Lo que un argento y yo podemos expresar sobre Barcelona entre el año 9 y 14.

Entre Golman y Cruyff.

Somos idiotas.

Y cruyffista.

Es fácil.

Dualidad.

Cemonos.

Semonos otra cosa.

A otra cosa mariposa.

Dícese en NEW spain

ALLS

Sho soy tan argento como Gardel intentando googlear cómo utilizar ChatGPT para aprender a bailar break dance.

No rap. Ni tango, obvio. ¿Vos qué pensas? ¿Qué soy un mileni…?

Pregunta número 3 de las últimas elecciones:

Vos sos un mileni

ALLS

Vos sos un gil.

¿No sabés cómo se llaman si quiera los candidatos?

Pregunta número cuatro es sobre participación política y preparación de los 99 minutos de reflexión sobre la elección de nuestro objetivo colectivo.

4. ¿Sabes el nombre de los candidatos?

SÍ
NO, qué pasa.

ALLS

Sho aprendí a entender la F1 con un argento precioso que me explicó la analogía de la salida: subís 2 a cero.

La analogía con el futbol es sagrada.

De ahí que Diego lo sea.

El futbol es nuestro Dios, nada nos salvará.

Nosotros sabemos hoy cosas que en 1978 no éramos conscientes.

Y habían unos y otros.

Y milicos.

Y milei.

Entre milicos y milei.

Entre Diego y Lio.

Una vez más la dualidad argentina. Lo tienen crudo el asadito.

Votemos la quinta pregunta del Argentinos Golman.

Vos sabés que un concepto de club de futbolarte lo rompería en la pretensión argentina de conformar un procomún, de facto, puramente del Rio de la Plata hasta sus montañas de origen. Este es el tránsito entre dos lados. Eso es lo que necesitamos aliviar para desempacharnos del hijueputa heteropatriarcado este que nos dejó con el Jesús en la boca, los machos violadores campeones de la violencia esta persistente en nuestra genealogía desde hace nueve generaciones. No tenemos evidencia que nos conecte con el más allá. ¿Qué pasaba por sus cabezas? ¿Qué votaban conjuntamente? ¿Para qué querían un estado fallido? ¿Quién se beneficia de no cambiar nada?

Todo igual.

Nadie se mueva.

Quieto todo el mundo.

Quito todo el mundo.

Ecuador.

Cambio de tercio.

Salta Andrés Calamaro al ruedo. Se trata del espontáneo más ilustre que había conseguido representar al pueblo en el sitio más violento de nuestra humanidad imperfecta. El toro se llamaba Golman y pesaba 666 kilos. Era una mole que resultaría indultado. Y en gran parte gracias a los nueve pases del espontaneo argento.

Hay dos maneras de hacer esta película.

Pero no seré yo quien lo decida.

No tendría gracia.

Sería demasiado fascista.

Yo no voy a lanzar a Andrés Calamaro al ruedo… si no quiere.

Y ahí entra en el maestro.

El espontaneo no avisa. Menos uno así de conocedor de la fiesta del toro. Un poeta de las corridas. Un hombre de la transgresión. Un hombre que no reuye al peligro y sobre a todo a la consagración de un arte de muerte. El toro indultado, gracias a un matador inmortal.

ALLS

Andrés torea de verdad un toro de tres ganaderías a escoger entre un concurso público para la adjudicación de este hapening del toreo, la música y la muerte
Andrés le saca pero se graba igual el guion que nos entregue OLMECANAI

ALLS

Notas de producción. Un creador de verdad escribe. Inventa. Se imagina historias. O las lee. Y las escribe. Para explicar una historia. Contar historias es un arte. E interpretarlas para el cine es otra. Y cambiamos el mundo con el arte. Con las historias. Con la confección. La industria. Y vos, que lo ves.

Andrés Calamaro en El espontaneo mileni.

Entre Mileni, Meloni y Milei.

Trilogía de lo que podría ser el regreso de cínico descaro del militarismo heteropatriarcal de ensalzamiento militar y su estructura de poder que se mece con los petrodólares que marcan el destino de nuestro pueblos. Esta es la gran falacia de nuestra incapacidad de dejar la violencia por completo. Por la necesidad de entender cómo canilizar toda esa estúpida testosterona que lo solapó todo, por culpa de ËL, no le salvemos a nadie. Vamos a cargárnolo todo. Pero no seamos giles si pensamos que no pensar ha sido buen compañero del populismo más mamarracho de nuestros ilustres blancos de pasta y cara. La cara linda de la vieja América. La nueva América vuelve: NEW américa.

ALLS

Vos igual tenés que escoger a tu personaje relevante de la historia de Boca.

Y podés no votar. No votés. Ni hablés más.

Vos vas a poder votar lo que te de la gana.

O no hacerlo.

Pasar de todo.

Esto no va con vos.

O no temés derecho.

Igual sos boliviano sin papeles.

Y le vas a boca igual.

¿Cómo igual?

Las dos argetinas: Boca o River.

Vos sabés que es así. Igual decís que sos de Independiente o de Rosario Central. De Newells. Posiblemente jugás ahí. Todo el mundo jugó ahí. La escuela de genios. Y Cebollitas. 99 equipos llamados Cebollitas. En cada continente.

Vos sabés que los argetinos tenemos algo distinto que el resto no tiene. Y media Argentina no lo entiende. Es el humor. No la subnormalidad. Y vos tenés como múcho una de las dos. Y no tenés ni puta gracia.

La verdad es que si algo aprendimos de los españoles es a odiarnos. Entre nosotros. Por la gracia de la dualidad que entablamos con el diablo. El demonio nos construye como si tuviera que existir una moral superior a las demás. Y la derecha lo ve clarisimo en cómo en la izquierda se erige en una superidad moral que vamos, uggh. Cayetana se mete el dedo en la boca.

Única indicación del guión. Cayetana es un personaje de ficción. No tiene porqué ser ninguna Cayetana o Cayetano en particular. Pero podría representarlos a todos. Por ser más perspicaz. Inteligente. Preparada. Liberada. De cuello largo. Entra por la puerta grande de la plaza. Directo al ruedo saluda al público con un señorial aplomo. Pinta de azul el cielo.

Se regalan 9 toros. Los nueve finalmente los torea Andrés Calamaro. Tras nueve años de alternativa. El paso del tiempo nos puestra ahora el torero, maestro, en el que se convirtió el esponténeo de la corrida aquella del indulto de Golman. Lo llamaron amnistía. Se cantó en tendido: «Qué te vote Chapote».

Nadie entendió nada. Salvo Andrés. Que salí en hombros por la puerta grande. Y volvió corriendo. Hacía atrás. Hasta la bajada de Santo Domingo. Pobre de mí. Un tipo entra a otro Bar en el que no solía beber nada Hemingway. Ahí Golman escribe una película pamplonica que le da la vuelta a la historia. Nos rebelamos con la contienda de una nueva alteración. La conmoción completa.

Espontáneo Andrés. Saltó al ruedo e indultó un toro: Golman. Nunca antes un espontaneo habría conseguida tal proesa. El pueblo pamplonica se vuelve loco. Le dan un giro golmánico a su historia. Y tiran patrás el tiempo. Desde la centralidad Elizondo. O más bien su dualidad.

Rincón de los Elizondo, San Juan de Naranjo. Costa Rica.

El porvenir. Todo se andará. Ya tenemos todo lo que necesitábamos para volver.

Hasta aquí todo está muy bien. Pero entre estas dos antípodas podemos plantear un movimiento resiliente auntónmo agnóstico a sus idiologías. Simplemente no son relevantes. Nadie está insultando. Ni diciendo que no son ciertas. Todas tratan de aliviarnos. Y esta no va a ser menos.

Ya otras religiones han hecho este mismo camino. Nomás vamos a volver para desplegar el tiempo inverso a nuestra historia. Y de ahí planteamos el futuro como necesariamente una bajada de huevos espectacular. Hasta allá dónde sea necesario para quitarnos esta mierda del cerebro. Y será dificil al principio. Pero en un momento dado la gilipollés machista quedará como un extracto de lo que dejamos atrás. Tal día como hoy.

Reversing day.

El día de la campaña NEW.

Elecciones fuera de concurso.

El mismo día que cualquier otra.

Cualquier otra que convoque cualquier nación, comunidad, ayuntamiento, conjunto de países, que diga se abre un periodo de elección. Y nosotrso respondemos. Participamos. Co-creamos el futuro.

Eso es lo que estamos haciendo.

Eso es lo que propongo.

Votemos hacia otra posición fuera de nuestro esquema mental presente. Fuera de nuestro sistema mental posible. Algo que necesarimente necesita un agente externo. Una distorsión. Una disrupción del status quo. Esto para mí es la innovación social más importante del sistema NEW: la autoregeneración.

Sea este un momento Euroka.

EUROKA.

Mi última palabra.

La palabra 99.

Una lengua fluida.

Regida por 99 palabras volátiles.

Se mantinen sobre la votación democrática del Tico Commons.

Izquierda
DERECHA

ALLS

Si votás en Argentina… ¿qué querés que diga?

Esta es mi pregunta de campaña. Y qué tanto vos podés deshacerte de todo, absolutamente todo lo que se ha debatido, y optar por una última opción que se cuela desde fuera: viene de Pamplona. Parece que es en forma de resistencia. Una resistencia antimicrobiana. Pero con un plan de acción. Una especie de conjura. Un giro de guion.

Un final alternativo.

La dualidad.

Una Argentina nueva.

Eso es.

Esa es.

NEWARG.

Última pregunta de las elecciones alternativas del 22/10/2023: Reversing Day!

Sea hoy reversing day.

NEW | NAW | ALLS