Curiosas amistades

Ayn Randt (Alisa Rosenbaum), Alain Greespan and Objectivism supporters, The first woman, was born in Russian in the first years of 20 century, (1905, Jewish pogroms- 1917 Russian lost against USSR) and emigrated to US, after her problems in her birth country, indicated the way to drive the World with the hard and wise arm of the Millionaires, magnates and moguls people. She was a screenwriter to Hollywood's movies but at 1932. She wrote: Red Pawn, an Anti-Soviet book.  She indicated the way towards her Objectivism theories. She also propagated her views in her massive novel "Atlas Shrugged", 1957 "Poor People are Lazy Assholes" was one of her funny point of views. She exalts selfishness and excoriates selflessness. This book explained to us that the worker would fight for one dollar more or less and they don't know when they could give and gab; of course a problem that millionaires obviously never haven't. (My bad idea, they always gab money: they sow jobs because they can harvest more money)

She came in the politician's views. Our famous man, Greespan, was in the Kensico cemetery when she was buried, perhaps he also loved his ideas, and years later. we can remind us and know that this man had control  over US' Central Bank  when Bush was president (not government) and those theories grew in an exponential way : not bank and financial control, crazy and eternal increase economic level; Finally we can see the end: the bigger economic World crisis without solutions;
Not problems, another time, they also have new ideas: a bit of fear's philosophy, some news which drive the target against workers or trade unions or civil servants: they are guiltier and "Lazy assholes" and ..Millionaires, now, with their experiences, would find out a new wonderful solution.

But, where are our heads? Where is  my quietness?:

I knew the supporter's questions driven from Media, why I should always answer with hard words when it would be better play with their theories. When Hyena comes in near me, it is silent and weak, I shouldn't be   impolite but their bite are heartbreaking and fatals. Then you cannot react

Without hope?

Have they won another time? it is our question the last times. Worker men accept that it will be necessary to take  drastic measures in these hard moments. We have been able to dream about a nice life but nobody's said to us the prize; but everythings have theirs price and our worry would be not forget it, never.

Now, civil servants, Trade Unions, Politicians must to pay with a measured discredit, driven to helper and vulture chatties. We should wake up, every person has his responsibility: houses, car, journeys had theirs prizes. Bankers, Churches will promise to open new and dreamt ways. Now Churches don't like to pay taxes, they talk us about his social actions (Is it true when they take attention for money or segretate students?); and me? I'll pay taxes because I'm in the World and I haven't arisen water, haven't bought expensive house, haven't unachievable car, haven't spent money without sense. I knows my limits and also the society limits. Why Church shouldn't pay taxes?

Everybody have discovered that talking against Trade Unions give them points but if Trade Unions have mistakes; someone would have able to speak about their purity: me, churches, perhaps also you. Whom suits this situation?.

Who think about my ignorance about their mistakes, their corruption, etc..?

Trade Unions are us; its bornt when worker people take conscience about theirs situations between the high power: economic powers and their helpers: bankers, politicians; an also religious power and the media power that drives the information.

It would be always as imperfect as necessary. They aren't our enemies

Gon on to do

That man didn't go on to do something new. The last car had been his life. Now, this new car also could be his life but this car hadn't life itself; but, the Escort car had driven near river, near unkwon mountain; with five, six, seven, eight or nine kayak on the ceiling; it enjoyed taking all elements around it to discover people, place or why not? women. It was a nice and real car without chains. Sometimes it was sad, it was manipulated but it danced a lot of times listening to Moustaki, Brel, to discover French language, to listen to Nightnoise or another  Ramon Trecet's songs: Eva Cassidy, Paddy Malony and his unkown Chieftains, or Beatles or Van Morrison. A day, it dissappeared for ten days, when it returned, its last years, it played with young and crazy kayak polo's players who enyoyed it and dreamt to travel breaking frontieres. When I rembember speaking with that car, my head hadn't my new limits. We remember travelling to the Nord or Sud. Now, I'm alone, I remember to practise my new skills to write without these problems that I'm hoping to performe step by step but I risk writting without net but I'll learn to know new rules and new ways but its will be so differents!

I've promised to climb every small hill, to read every wonderful book to help me understand but a lot of times not accept old rules

Why I would like to listen to Bob's songs?

It was a rhythm which I loved
it was a voice that I embraced
it was a guitar, that I cryed
it was a sky, that I dreamed

and now, I'm looking for every word
and now, I'm dancing with your girls
and now, I'm visiting those places
and now, I'm writting your new world

Because new Dixons and Griffiths, hate
Because bussines beings, dream slave
Because new girls, embraces her loves
and the life floods between our fingers

Are you, this moment, our bit sky?
Drawn you our spaces withour line?
Casts words to rivers where let's roll
Disturbs the lives resigned.
your songs, times in love

¿Quién puede decirlo?

Estoy aquí sentado, sintiéndome un mamaracho, había estado repartiendo jabón, sabiendo de su insuficiencia y ahora me acusan de no sé que ausencia de aperos para la siembra. Si no fuera porque uno ya está curado de espanto, sentiría la tentación de mandarle a paseo; cuando me ha dicho que repartir tanto jabón tenía la culpa de todo, primero he respirado profundamente, en esta ultima época no lo he hecho; luego he pensado en "Brownsville girl", una perla para intimidad, profundizar y amar; finalmente me he aguantado; y luego pensándolo bien, he llegado a la conclusión que si, que he repartido demasiado jabón y no era el momento, de acuerdo. Pero, compréndalo ustedes, llegó un momento que me vi con tanto aceite en casa que me dije: "para que al final se escape por alguna tubería y vaya por las diferentes cañerías y quedé siempre por encima y tape la podredumbre que existe por abajo, prefiero utilizarlo para jabón". Además tiene unas increíbles propiedades para suavizar cuando algunas cosas no entran bien. Por ejemplo, un juez juega con restos abandonados durante años, con lo que esto significa para una investigación,  y reabre la investigación, clarividente él,  además otros muchos colegas ya han estudiado y sobreseído ese mismo caso. Y esta sociedad tan feliz, ya les han dado tema discutir: sindicatos. No pasa nada, todo correcto, nadie le amonesta, ni nadie parece tener derecho a decirle que con el supuesto estado de derecho no se juega; pero me pregunto ¿no es prevaricar obviar todo lo acontecido? (tema a no tratar, religión usada). Otro juez, siguiendo a corruptos, intenta saber lo que pasa entre estos y sus ayudantes y se le expulsa de la carrera. Si te han estafado a ti, o a ti, cientos de millones que ahora pagas en tu nómina o en tus condiciones laborales; no teníamos derecho a que nos defendiera (¡cuidado de quien hablamos)  ¿Es o no esto para usar un buen jabón?

Descubierto en lo anterior, corrupciones por el equivalente a 1.000 acciones vandálicas de los denominados anti sistema, con estos se despliega medios, dinero, e incluso malas artes y con los primeros les tenemos como estrellas de televisión, ¿admitimos la corrupción como los pajarillos que sólo se creen con derecho a recibir las migajas?. Y vuelvo a preguntar ¿no querrán ustedes más jabón?.

Porque mira que es pesado el tema de los sindicatos, ¿A quién le interesa que estén siempre en cuestión, a nuestros malos empresarios, a asalariados voceros sin escrúpulos, a político adalides ahora de su mesura impuesta? y sin embargo, nos quieren hacer ver demonios cuando los sindicatos están compuestos de seres humanos, que pueden medrar, equivocarse o desvalijar nos, siempre en menor propensión que nuestros anteriores errores y por lo menos en la misma medida de quien ha visto aumentado su patrimonio con sólo poseer tierras de labranza, o quien ha trabajado para tramas corruptas. No seré yo, quien conociendo sus debilidades, les ataque, vergüenza le llamaría.
  Pero amigo, nadie les dice a  la unión de otros seres humanos que está muy mal no pagar impuestos y utilizar los recursos públicos para atacar los principios más básicos de una sociedad que vive en su mayor parte sin ellos: igualdad de sexos, no discriminación en las oportunidades y otras cuantas cosas que yo creo que porque en sí mismas llevaban algo de jabón, pero ¿quién puede decir que el jabón no es necesario en esta sociedad? Mas si oyes a la efigie apoyándose en ellos, como se apoyo en muertos, en tramas, etc.; ¿necesitaría también de mi jabón?

Sobre todo si algunos que te anatemizan enseguida se ven tentados a atacarte, ¿no sería bueno impregnarte de jabón para que te resbalen sus ataques?

Y luego dicen que no esa sustancia no es buena y por eso la tapan con olores, pero que leches, incluso el de esta sustancia no se puede obviar.

Are you an angel?

You're seeing that afternoon
When I was waiting a nice moon
but your face brightens the dusk
and your voice lights my tiredness
I will dance lives from the darkness

If the fear was my stillness, I would find out Ulysses
If the word was my weakness, I would love Steinbeck
If the ideas were my darkness, I would read Platon
If I liked dance those worlds, Could you paint my space?

and you, so far away, say us with your guitar

That the sky is the Cyclope's world
That the windmill is the Tom's ground
That the footlights is the Jose's cave
There, you send us the life's vibration

we'll dream islands
we'll tell sheeps
we'll see cockroaches
we'll discover paintings


Eva's voice and I ride with you,  unbridled rein to itinerary

Helena y Pete

It could be a nice relationship between two persons but it was only a hate's relationship. He told about the Salem's witches and his love about that strange woman. She had found out the opportunity to increase her level in that stupid society that she hated and utilized.

Her right way couldn't stop when that dreamy young sang her, his sweet and old-fashioned songs. Anything stopped her pleasure above them. Her body seethed furiouly that cold night in the mountain or that other spring-like dusk or that summer, on the sand less hot than her feelings. But she had understood that was only small times and she would rather her powerful image.

Peter knew a lot, she looked for subordinated beings. If it was necessary, he would go to the jail, althought her body cry out for a special night