I came down too optimistic for the context and depression on Sunday. Ok, I did not get too personal, have I got in bed looking at the bare C5N with interactive pantallita mute, while played on the computer in my country Adagio of Zitarrosa, a kind of poetic license seventy succumbed a few minutes tried to evoke the Great Defeat Great Lost Generation. The truth is that the intimate feeling I have is that what comes is horrible: Cobos, Reutemann, Macri, De Narvaez, awful people, cardboard, with speeches mean, successful people without pathos.
not stand it anymore I think that word came into vogue last year: "consensus." What the hell is that? I listen, I confess, and I come up images of many garcas around a long table, posing for the cameras because everything is cooked now. The consensus is to 2009 what was ethical to 1999. Empty password that are recognized are the worst of this country, and co-opted by the Stockholm syndrome that makes them parade. I can not believe intelligent people argue their political position using those terms, arguing against the "arrogance" and other synonyms that reduces politics to a "pillow fight."
My Trotskyite interior suggests to me that all go to hell, but I'm too short for civilization to speak. Vox Populi Vox Dei, I repeat, while Pino on TV salutes its bohemian geronte beret and speaking to colleagues for the umpteenth time of Barrick Gold. Enough.
not stand it anymore I think that word came into vogue last year: "consensus." What the hell is that? I listen, I confess, and I come up images of many garcas around a long table, posing for the cameras because everything is cooked now. The consensus is to 2009 what was ethical to 1999. Empty password that are recognized are the worst of this country, and co-opted by the Stockholm syndrome that makes them parade. I can not believe intelligent people argue their political position using those terms, arguing against the "arrogance" and other synonyms that reduces politics to a "pillow fight."
My Trotskyite interior suggests to me that all go to hell, but I'm too short for civilization to speak. Vox Populi Vox Dei, I repeat, while Pino on TV salutes its bohemian geronte beret and speaking to colleagues for the umpteenth time of Barrick Gold. Enough.
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