Just when I was ... ... got interesting. Interesting in Chinese: "I wish to touch you in interesting times" say that China is a curse. In that sense I say that this talk was interesting so boring, painfully boring, blogs: if newspapers "extimate" or should be journalism, the controversy surrounding the use of first person singular, exhibitionism, Link and theories bloggers and their injuries, the famous autobiographical twist, Link and his blog.
As its name indicates.
The last entry in this blog was December 22, 2007. Do not put or happy holidays or merry christmas and happy new year and remember Luca Vive Cro-Magnon or 20 years after death, or "ford in kiosk around sudden" or anything. I thought I left without saying anything, very happy with my new novella I understand capitalized on years of experience blogger, is a fiction told in diary form "extimate" (I liked that word Lacanian). The narrator is male, so no doubt as to when he says "I" speaks of "him." "He" is Ricardo Rojas, redds alias Dick, professor of the class life English and American Literature at the University I Nazi-onal of Atopy.
People in Atopy living in fiction.
Today I open the Radar
and only now I find that a few days before I attempted defection was the famous Iuso Things like the series "Confessional" Rojas Cultural Center. What happens to my character name is called Red. In the novella I wrote in the winter of 2007 in 2 months. Nabokov's Lolita
was one of his sources of inspiration. I published it
Under the Moon, with a beautiful cover, and went to press just as he left Collapse
Daniel Guebel. They went more or less together, coinciding with the confession of pedophilia in the Red Iuso.
With that I had nothing to do.
sublunary My friends have a wonderful sense of timing
, published my poem "The Fall" just two months before De La Rua Long Rosada by helicopter. I know that does not do it on purpose. Les goes well. There is genius among certain editors, not only among certain artists. (Among those who do not necessarily account Iuso, although I realize that your collages are very good.)
abuse and use. Iuso,
confess yourself.
What's this resurrection EAL's speech? Comes to mind statements of Maria Moreno in your letter of today
Radar. She tries to analyze the causes of the "explosion of privacy" in criticism, art, literature, blogs, etc. That also had been studying the online edition of profi
l, which last week took a Tomas Maximiliano column on the recent Argentine autobiographical novels. Moreno interview with Link, who gives a series of definitions, trying to sort the chaos ...
Or something. And she says she saw it coming long ago.
(Date: 1989.)
It speaks not note María Moreno is why the "phenomenon" saw it coming long ago. And so I reopen this blog, to put it here. What is not discussed is the prohibition that weighed on the first person singular in the last twenty years. From 1987 to 2007, if you wanted to be taken seriously, you could not write in first person singular and ever, and less on poetry. We were all obliged to modesty and decorum of "se" impersonal, or political fighter and "we." Obligation
some do not always deliver.
Until last year, writing "I" was trivial, egotistical, fart, vulgar, fat, evil. Criticism blindly adhered to Bakhtin declared in 1924 that first-person confessional was not literary. Or lyrical Barthes. A critic, poet and journalist, in 1999, I remember, had published a column against the autobiography of former President Menem. What the accused? Using the first person singular. What did you want? "I said. Is the plural of majesty? Another poet had declared Página/12
: "The self is sad." Proponents of the ban are the same as now resurgent yoyoísmo burner compulsive disorder. They dropped the barrier of repression that began and now joining the revolt trying to profit, according to the aphorism: "If you can not beat them, join them."
back to blogging. From this in particular, is said ("you", lol) the idea of \u200b\u200bpublic diary: the blog as a place for the whimsical voice of a subject. It was an idea at the time shocked the bloggers, supporters instead of the blog as simple technical means and preferably use collective ideal tool for achieving alternative journalism ordinary. The blog as a place. The blog newspaper was seen as the future of blogs, such as sound idea. The first-person confessional blog was considered neurotic and banal. I'm talking about a very interesting debate that took place (where else) in the Red, if I remember correctly, in September 2005.
(View Files of this blog.)
What he won was the middle position: the blog as chronic. Funes
memory.
The link from Ñ to know what happened in the Red ... And
link Mariasch Mariana's blog.
Funes, Mariana, they were there.
I must confess that when a famous writer or artist has their secrets, I was bored. If houses go on the field and celebrated the goals of San Lorenzo, is your problem. If Iuso abused his niece, 9 years without penetration ... and confess publicly in the Red ... and believes that the confession is not criminally responsible for being a fictional performance ... Well, at least you can say is that it crashed a limit. It is not beyond the moral to be an artist. Well! Finally realized. This was a boundary that someone would have played sooner.
I liked, when I started reading blogs, reading blogs neighbor's daughters, that is, either. I love anyone to come and tell me your life. I love that an old at the bus stop to tell me his life. If you tell well, listen. It is storytelling in its purest form, no narration literature. Or with a naive idea of \u200b\u200bthe literary. There was a blog of a girl told Buenos Aires that he was going shopping at the mall with his dad, I loved it. Writing about such trivialities wonderful. The worst thing I can say is: "This seems like a novel."
Because then I'm more.
And it does not require the novel, this story. Yes
needs of those stories in the novel.
It feeds them. The vampirizes.
long now I do not read blogs, but I'm reading (besides
Fogwill analyzed texts and of Talks Aira) a book of testimonies of veterans of the Falklands. Words of honor
was compiled by William Clarke and other researchers from the Provincial Historic Archive of La Plata. Follows the methods of oral history: a very faithful transcription of the voice of the testimonial. I can not say that I love because what they have is terrible. But there is something, a quality that autobiographical narratives are not writers, that it falls into the hands of writers who try to do the same thing themselves, is lost. I'm tempted to say "fresh" but did not think it's the right word.
Fogwill in
analyzed texts and Aira in
Talks, however, work the material reality of a very literary. And the result is both excellent. Not intended to pass for real. It is literature that works of literature. Enters reality through the mediation is the autonomy of the artwork. Not posit an absolute degree of autonomy, but one on which refract reality. That's what reality and fiction is much better posed in the new book of Aira. Let's just say Fogwill Malvinas able to talk because
analyzed texts unnamed Malvinas. It tells a fictional story where the Falklands war erupts. Breaks with the full weight of reality.
opposite is the dystopia imagined in
The Seduction Baudrillard :
"real thing grows, the real advances.
One day all will be real and when everything is real,
be the end."
Ed note: because you made me believe again, because it taught me not to stay with what I have but to go and conquer I want, it is worth it, because you're in my life, Happy Day And thanks. 
(image: google.com) 
