este artículo es alucinante, en texto e imágenes.
un triple proceso de recopilar la casas, la vida y las imágenes fragmentadas por el tiempo y el humano.
el bombardeo --> el montage --> un artículo de CTXT
cemento/bombas, papel/tijeras, ojos/pantalla
por nuestro colega Sebastiaan Faber
muy util para lxs que enseñan cultura visual/historia material en español
La extraña vida póstuma de un inmueble madrileño y otras historias de la Guerra Civil
In lieu of Spain´s increasingly violent police force and recent Security Law (Ley de Seguridad Ciudadana):
Spanish: http://www.eldiario.es/interferencias/Doce-inspiradoras-Ley-Seguridad-Ciudadana_6_204439558.html
English: http://guerrillatranslation.com/2014/01/07/12-inspired-actions-to-outsmart-repressive-situations-and-laws/
As of today adult humans living in Basque Country and earning 15,000 euros or less a year are guaranteed decent housing.
http://www.elpais.com/articulo/sociedad/vascos/pocos/ingresos/podran/exigir/juez/derecho/vivienda/elpepusoc/20110121elpepusoc_4/Tes
What a difference from throwing people out of their homes when they lose their job!
http://warner.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/03/05/the-worst-buddhist-in-the-world/?em
i want to come back to comment on this
ethics, fashion, and economic difference? article in today's nytimes about millionaire fashion companies dressing the poorest in designer clothing in order to take publicity pictures of them. reminds me of when i was in tangier, morroco. we were walking through the narrow dirt streets of a lower-income historic quarter and i watched a group of frat boys in our tour group laugh and impress their friends as they took condoms out of their pockets and tossed them out to local kids who were playing in the streets. what does it come down to? an exposure of an unethical and unsympathetic juxtaposition between two extreme levels of basic needs? ...that would assume a sympathy for the have-nots. OK. but, who are we to determine who are and who aren't the have-nots? and what good does sympathy do if it doesn't... do anything? ...
The British urbanism magazine Monocle set out to find the worlds best metropolises to live in, rating them by:
- quality of life
- crime and delinquency
- nightlife after 1am
- cultural options
- cleanliness
- nature areas
- quality of schools
- social tolerance
- quality and price of public transportation
- communication/information access (internet, phone...)
- hours of sun per year
- average outdoor temperature
- medical care
and in their July 2007 issue, the results were published:
1. MunichShould some other factor have been considered? Maybe "courtesy to strangers"? (Or maybe that fits into "social tolerance"? Although I think they measure social tolerance by the amount of gay bars...) Or perhaps something to do with the price and quality of housing? Maybe that's "quality of life"? I never liked the "quality of life" factor because it's so vague. Bush once said that we can't join the Kyoto pact because it would affect our "quality of life." Anyway, for more info about the city report: http://www.iht.com/articles/2007/06/18/arts/rmon1munich.php
2. Copenhagen
3. Zürich
4. Tokyo
5. Vienna
6. Helsinki
7. Sydney
8. Stockholm
9. Honolulu
10. Madrid
11. Melbourne
12. Montreal
13. Barcelona
14. Kyoto
15. Vancouver
16. Auckland
17. Singapore
18. Hamburg
19. Paris
20. Ginebra
NPR, July 6, 2007: “In the last two months, 125 mexicans died of heat stroke trying to cross the border”
El país, July 5, 2007: “Un alud sepulta un autobús lleno de pasajeros en México”
Charlotte Observer, June 30, 2007: “Monterrey is flooded; at least 20 dead”
waiting
waiting
waiting
Now I know what it must feel like for those cinematic women who waited helplessly for news of their beloveds miles away fighting some war. Looking out the window, fiddling with a hem, rereading the newspaper, mumbling to the maid to recheck to see if the mailman is anywhere near, hoping the sleepy feeling will come soon, staring motionless while the imagination runs wild...
but nowadays war is Voluntary
and Waiting isn't!
...
"Researchers estimated that as a result of the war, about 655,000 people in a country of about 27 million have died above the number expected to have died without war, Bernham said. that means 2.5 percent of the Iraqi population has died because of the invasion and ensuing strife, he said.
At a White House news conference Bush said, "I don't consider it a credible report. Neither does General (George) Casey (top U.S. commander in Iraq) and neither do Iraqi officials."
Casey, at a separate Pentagon briefing, said he had not seen the study but the 650,000 number "seems way, way beyond any number that I have seen. I've not seen a number higher than 50,000. And so I don't give it that much credibility at all."
Bush said, "I do know that a lot of innocent people have died, and that troubles me. And it grieves me." But he called the study's methodology "pretty well discredited." Last December, Bush estimated 30,000 Iraqis had died in the war.
Iraqi government spokesman Ali al-Dabbagh told Reuters, "The report is unbelievable. These numbers are exaggerated and not precise." Iraqi government officials put the total Iraqi death toll since the war started at 40,000."
--"Study sees 655,000 Iraqi war deaths; Bush disputes" (Reuters, 11 October 2006)
A slow conversation between Ferdinand and Marianne in a car. Ferdinand, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, is calmly driving. It is night. We know they're in the city because of the colored lights that repetively flash over the windshield. A line from the radio breaks the silence:
Radio: Garrison massacred by the Viet Cong who lost 115 men.
Marianne: Awful, isn't it? So anonymous...
Fernindand: What is?
Marianne: They say "115 guerrillas" and it doesn't mean a thing to us.
[Pause]
Marianne: Yet each one is a man, and we don't even know who he is. We don't know if he loves his wife, if he has kids, if he prefers movies or plays. We don't know anything. All they say is "115 killed." It's like photographs. They've always fascinated me. You see a snapshot of a guy with a caption underneath. He was a coward maybe, or a nice guy. But at the time when it was taken no one can say exactly when he was thinking about. His wife? His mistress? The past? The future? A basketball game? Nobody will ever know.
Ferdinand: That's life for you.
Marianne: Yes...that's what makes me sad: life is so different from books. I wish it were the same: clear logical organized... Only it isn't.
Ferdinand: Yes it is... a lot more than people think.
Marianne: No, it isn't, Pierrot.
[Pause.]
Ferdinand: My name's Ferdinand.
-- Pierrot le fou, 1965, director Jean-Luc Godard.
The headline of El País read: "Rita turns into the third strongest hurricane in the history of the Caribbean."
A man who learns that another massive hurricane is coming his way and simply does not believe it. How can it possibly be true if people are still waiting on their roofs from the last hurricane?! (Why a man, I don´t know.)
He shuts himself in his one-level American-style home. Alone.
Sits in a chair, in his brown-carpeted living room.
And thinks, and reflects, calmly.
The rain is an incessant and soothing roar coming from some side of the house.
He meditates in denial.
He plays cards with himself on a small wooden table,
he chuckles at his own folly,
gets bored;
tidies up the coffee table,
gets up to turn a record on. (the stereo system belonged to his parents. )
The carpet soaks his white socks.
He sits back down and continues thinking about different things:
Person 1,
meditation techniques,
Person 2,
his youth,
Person 1...
As it becomes darker outside, he doesn't get up to turn the lights on.
Several hours later he is sitting Indian style on top of the china cabinet.
The music is barely audible over the downpour.
His thoughts have now become delusional and aggressive.
He jumps down, finds the table and
BOOM!- BREAKS IT once- and
AGAIN- CRACK!
against the cheap wood wall.
How good it felt, how good it sounded!
Staring down beyond the bobbing legs of his once table, he feels relief, he has reached tranquility, defeated..defeated what?
He takes slow deep breaths, tries to forget about the "what?"
he extends his arms and slowly brings his legs up.
He floats on his back, and the chair splinters tickle him.
His thoughts become calm again;
peaceful,
thick,
Person 1,
posthumous.
This evening 11 million Spaniards (over a quarter of the population) demonstrated solidarity against war and state corruption in the streets.
