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Archive for the ‘This blog and its crew’ Category

En attendant je suis en France, j’ai eu le temps pour lire un livre sur la IIème Guerre Mondiale, écrit par Curzio Malaparte, de titre Kaputt.

Je vous laisse ici la déscription d’une pièce du compositeur romantique Aleksandr Borodin qui, comme toute l’aristocratie et bourgeoisie russes, parlait français (ou je crois ça, quand même).

 

(Pardon pour mon térrible français!)

 

Dans les régions désertiques de l’Asie centrale retentit un chant russe. On entend se rapprocher le pas des chevaux et des chameaux ainsi que la mélodie d’une chanson orientale. Une caravane traverse l’immensité de la steppe, escortée par un détachement de soldats russes. Son long parcours s’effectuera en toute sécurité. La caravane s’éloigne peu à peu. Les chants s’unissent en une seule harmonie dont les échos retentissent longtemps dans l’immensité de la steppe avant de mourir dans le lointain.

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A girl from Copenhagen.

The last day of our stay there, we got lost when we were going to the central station. We noticed that when we went out of an alley where there is, with that typical red brick, the best board games’ shop I’ve ever seen. There, in a big boulevard, we had to decide if we were going to the left or to the right.

And then we saw her, pale black-haired Danish, black clothes, white aura. She was doing jogging elegantly, walking fast, running slowly over the continental drift, but not feeling the vértigo she made me feel. We asked her where we had to go, and she said “to the right”, I said “oh”, and she said bye. She began running on that direction.

Then she turned and smiled at me.

I looked at her back.

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When, in 1899, Rudyard Kipling wrote The white man’s burden, the United States had just invaded in the Philippine Islands, then -no longer- a Spanish colony. The poem was considered, at the beginning, as an exhortation to imperialism, a literary justification of violent colonisation. This has been, also, the official interpretation of that poem.

But it still remains a theory according to which Kipling was not such a racist, ethnocentric writer -like all the people in his time.  Perhaps, the man who deleted the swastika on all his signatures after Hitler’s triumph, the lover of Indian culture, the tireless defender of lower classes wrote just a satire, an exalted poem which exalted people didn’t understand.

Anyway, that’s the Kipling I’ll remember, the writer of  The Jungle Book and that beautiful poem, If–. That’s the writer whose texts I read with such pleasure when I was just a little boy. And this is the sense in which the name of this blog, far from ethnocentrism, has been thought (also, I must say that I’m a defender of Human Rights, though if they are a Western imposition or not).

Let me finish with the last strophe of the poem which I’ve mentioned, If–.

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

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This blog is born to share some of my deep, uncategorized, non vinculant, non coherent, non cohesionate thoughts. They’ll probably have no rigueur, and I can swear that I’ll make a lot of neologism words, not necessarily by vocation.

My last blog [http://nodesperteisalosmuertos.blogspot.com], written in Spanish, covered my Secondary and High School experiences, but I feel that I must finish it before it finishes me.

In addition, I write this blog inspired by this [http://gunkies.org/blog/?p=91], a sensible, bright and clever exposition of which could never be sensible, bright or clever. I condemn with my whole soul those attacks in the city of Oslo, and if I write this in English is because I want to share my thoughts with as many people as possible, and I’m in an internationalist way. So this could be, also, a way to thank the author.

I’ll finish this presentation with his words, showing his point of view -and mine-:

I want to end this with a request to everyone who reads this, echoing a statement I read by one of my good friends and comrades: Please, don’t let me see any messages of hatred, wishes for the death penalty, anything like that. If anyone should be of the belief that anything will improve by murdering this sad little person, they would be profoundly wrong. All attention now should be plowed into caring for those victims and their relatives who did not share my luck, and not giving an audience to a perpetrator who wants one.

-Tore Sinding Bekkedal

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