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Mostrando las entradas de 2009

We trap God

Photo by @brianphone We trap God, hang Him in stained glass, entrance Him by organ music and chorus We bind Him by ritual, tickle Him by prayers and train Him to become our pet. And we freely make Him take off our guilt of exploiting too much, Of having too much, of wasting too much, of living too comfortably Once the desert God, jealous and wild; now an amulet on a charm bracelet. —Yorifumi Yagucchi   Sapporo, Japan. Taken from the book "Living more with less" by Doris Janzen Longacre.

Yet another blog of mine

As if I didn't have enough blogs... Here comes Blogpil . Health pills from Honduras... . What happened with my abandoned blogs? Well. This I abandoned for son long. But still, it can serve me as a metablog: for comenting my other blogs. The philosophical ones... I abandoned them because they don't pay. Philosophy is not profitable for me. These days I am more practical. I am comited to offer value to my readers. Who really cares about my stupid opinions? Everyone has an opinion. Opinions are cheap. Anarchism, in my blog Contraeconomia doesn't pay off. I love utopias, but utopias are not practical. Critique of atheism, in my blog Reason Prostituted , didn't pay me at all. But my Sangre de Cristo blog (Blood of Christ), is better. Lately I've been exploring the issue of metaphysical prayers . My blog about promos and services of cellphone companies turned out to be very profitable. That one I'll keep up updating. The one about Honduras , in Englis

I won't forgive my father

Kurtwood Smith is Red in That '70s Show. Photo taken from Wikimedia . Being a good parent is not easy, but I had higher expectations from you, and you let me down. I expected, as a son, words of wisdom and warm words of approval, affection and understanding. I craved to be understood, but you never understood me. I thank you for all the material things you gave me, but material things are not enough. You are a failure as a parent. Instead of words of wisdom you always tried to push your silly ideas in my head, you still keep trying to manipulate me in order to make me think exactly like you do. But I guess the alcohol you drank when you were younger damaged your brain and temper. And I guess you were fucked up by your parents too, as I am by you. It's a pitiful loop of bad causes and effects. Insane people raising insane children, 'cause you didn't know how to do better, living in an insane world of greed and violence. Being out of touch with reality, out of