el dia de hoy

projective_reality

projective reality

apart from his visual blog (created in flash/actionscript), anthony rostvold is exploring what he calls “projective reality.”

some kind of web3.0 version of  j.berger’s ways of seeing…

he defies it being called virtual reality…

it’s not a created reality but a captured reality…

he defines it as,

the transformation of a different place or time of the world or the state of things as they exist, as opposed to an idealistic, virtual, or a notional idea. it is a thing that is actually experienced or seen; and a thing that exists in fact, that has a quality of being lifelike or true.

anthony is simply,

looking at how we see, how we look at an image, what makes an image life like and how can we use it as a communication device…

the idea is simple…somewhat…

…live video, streaming from the internet from a different location…some measuring…all things based on the golden mean, the overall proj distance minus the h of the proj from the dist of the projector to the screen. thats where you find the distance that you need to stand away from the camera…

if you have a chance…view the podcast, vidcast…anthony’s video comes up at the end…apart from his dabblings with the golden mean and the fibonacci wachi stuff, this is good.

it won’t be long before we’ll be having live lectures in our classrooms by someone who is in china, buenos aires, paris…

…live conference meetings with one another while the one anothers are in different continents. shaking hands, exchanging information, sharing drinks. while actually not being there…whatever “not” means…

video conferencing will be so passe in the web3.0 classroom…

what makes winters lonely

someone recently introduced me to what too quickly has become  my  wintermuzik for 2005. too sure it will also be the muzik in my head for the mornings of early 2006. mornings of winter. of birds on window sills. and relentless winds and rainfalls. in the valley, there is no snow, just winds. and rainfalls,  if we're lucky.

when the spring is cold where do robbins go? what makes winters lonely? now at last i know.

astonishment

:: Milton Glaser ::.

astonishment. i hope to god i don't loose it. sometimes, it seems, like it's slipping. it scares me. then somehow,  i'm rescued. by something, by someone, by some sound or some smell.

"why do you teach?" he's asked.

"fundamentally, i teach because it makes me feel good. it's helped me clarify my own objectives. there's nothing more exciting than seeing somebody change from a condition of inertness or inattentiveness into a mind that begins to inquire about meaning."

may god keep me from ever loosing my capacity for astonishment. this world, this life, is too damn good for that.

sister ana

not too long i sat with her and blogged about it  and now she's gone. she's been gone for some time now.

i could've visited her. the way i made myself visit my grandfather today. it was friday night and i was ready to go out and instead, i went to mission. to my old house. i knew he'd be out there. sitting on the patio. it felt good to see him. i call him "capitan" and he does the same to me. what a grip. in his eighties. i wish i would've gotten his size and strength. instead, i'm small and frail.

it's good to see him. he smiles big when he sees me and breaks up everytime right before i leave.

i so wish i would have mustered up the courage (for lack of a better term) to go see sister ana when she was ill. she left me and many others who loved her,  way too fast. she gave so much to all of us.

it took stalina to tell me. many days, perhaps weeks, later. we both laid there, staring up at the ceiling.

lastima

that last post was actually from the end of may/begining of june.

i screwed up something in database files on my last blog and it seems like i may have done some serious damage to those files.

for now, here's my old blog.

i'm comforted down here in south texas by my new sundance channel and ifc. some zurdok en mtv en espa~ol doesn't hurt.

al fin

i arrive.

in mCallen, texas.

such bush country, it's berzerk. peter, that book should be titled, "Whatever happened to South Texas?"

i left houston. slowly and painfully so. i read "paco mentiras" at the open mic on friday night thanks to the invite by my good Salvadoran friend Karlita. i miss her and houston.

i'm now in rural america, if you can call it that. it's amazing how much rural south texas has in common with rural kansas.

aqui se acaban mis palabras por hoy. despite the bush frenzy down here there are some exquisitely beautiful souls. 

najaf

najaf is found to be explosive.

the war continues and hummers hum along.

i missed mass.

ill soon be a godfather.

im trying to learn to write from baldwin. someone writer once wrote that baldwin taught him to write calmly when he's angry.

perhaps ill slowly begin to write again. for the same reason that i gave peter for learning to play the guitar. for my own damn good.

winter ends.easter approaches

winter ends.

the forty days of lent slowly come to an end.

the fifty days of easter slowly approach.

words have been scarce. thats not always bad.

winter begins.the year ends.

...the end of this year

means the end of...

...el dia de hoy...

for now, at least.

it was a good space.

for now, feliz navidad

and a very blessed

new year to you...

peace,
saul.

to teach

....or not to teach.

no longer an undocumented, transient teacher...as lovely as the lifestyle seemed to be...

now, i have papers. the official stuff. after a few observations, a lot of paper work, some classes, deductions from my paycheck, and, of course...a sit down, bubble the dot, timed test with weakly worded questions and...i'm official...not sure what i should make of that quite yet. nonetheless...

my memories of miss acosta and miss rivera (my fourth and fifth grade teachers who seemed quite the quirky couple to most of my friends) seem quite cloudy. like some story i never really lived just got told about by my mom's tio who knew a friend who happened to live right next to their caretaker's primo...

...regardless, i wish they were around. somewhere close by, where i could help miss rivera with that crumpled paper bag full of old books she was carrying one time to the local public library. perhaps she'd let me keep them. perhaps she'd enjoy knowing that i, like her, have fallen in love with old books...

...im too scared, however, to look them up when i go home. for fear that theyll be gone, or something of the sort.

as if my not looking for them will somehow keep them here forever.

and im scared to look for mr. guilliard, my high school english teacher who introduced me to poe, told me once that i wrote well and, most importantly, entertained us with a comical rendition of the crazy couples kissing quickly in the hallways, trying to beat the bell...

now, it's me. attempting to teach and beginning to think it may be for good.

not sure i care too much about the standardized tests my kids have to endure these days. i do, however, care and hope that one day they'll fall in love with old books and have the courage to look me up and tell me about it...

not much more.

bush boys win.america doesn't

the boys come in to class.

"mister, they got lin baden...",

"no, they captured saddam hussein."

"yeah, that one."

porn at the pottery barn?

or the spider hole.

the sadness of it all. the ignorance of an
america

gone blind by bushites and cheney
chums

and how exactly does the pentagon
fight

halliburton

and where the hell is houston if not
here

at a place called home

or someplace so seemingly same

or so seemingly unsane

like enrons and the child left
behind

somewhere close to the place

paige left houston

for d.c.

where he likens

comparing
norm reference tests
and criterion reference tests

to

comparing
bull riding
and sheephearding

didnt quite follow. something about both
involving livestock...and shit, of some sort

(no high school football metaphors

this time.)

while these kids he left behind that he claims
to have helped

keep dropping out

to wash dishes for the

bush boys

he now resides with.

standards?

enron.

bullriding.

halliburton.

sheephearding.

december days

as is evident, my posts are scarce these days. the daily dose of writing i committed to a while back has for more reasons than one, gone the way of dirty piles of laundry and dishes left undone...

just returned from being in the woods for a few days. no internet access. just trees and a lake.

come january, im not sure what this space will look like. not sure i care right now. perhaps more personal, perhaps more political. perhaps neither.

miserable failure

although miserable failure were dick's words, i think i'm going the route of dean...

the lesser evil..for some...

the middle of nowhere, where

is it anyway?

it was a piece

on this american

life last

sunday

the place youve

never heard of..

until you hear about it..

and then, you cant stop

hearing about it...

gore goes dean...

or en

Dorses Dean...

and joes just not

right for the job.

what job?

in other wor(L)ds...

the us is sorry in afghanistan...

and in baghdad, drive by's

are in...

el(los) dia(s) de ayer

three days.

some random thoughts about

jesus saving the lost and how,

somewhere, somehow, i want,

but dont, quite feel

lost.

or at least dont feel the need

to feel found.

three days.

baker and bush do the twist.

more boys die in baghdad.

putin sounds the trumpet.

and all of a sudden,

bush and blair arent

the only ones

claiming victory on

miserably lost causes.

bad ass boys

US army boys are bad asses riding atop their tanks and bradleys. according to the bbc's peter greste, it took them "...two hours and all the weapons they had to fight their way out of the city." according to us reports, 54 were killed . wHo counted?

the UN warns the world isnt doing enough to hold off a chemical or biological attack from al-qaeda...while the us thinks world's aids crisis is out of control. . WHO EXACTLY is THE us AND THE un?? since when did the US become a leading advocate against the aids epidemic? since when did the UN become a wise, intelligent advisor to the world? aren't we ever so grateful for their wisdom and warnings. what would we do without these two world leaders?

in other wor(L)ds,

the lord of the rings finale premieres in nuevo zelandia.

soy mejicano, me thinks

soy mejicano muy materialista. se me van, o se fueron, los dias de protesta. ese ni~o idealista que so~aba en algun dia cambiar el mundo. ahora me siento solo. escuchando a manu chao en mtv en espa~ol en mi nuevo television de flat screen con canales hasta la...

y como escoger...

como llenar mi plato...

saber como parar...

y no tener que

siempre ser, el

ultimo en el bar

manu canta de las calles de barcelona. las calles que muy facil pueden ser las calles del parque del periodista en medellin. o la de la plaza de los sapos en puebla. las calles oscuras de coyoacan. donde el deseo del cigaro siempre sale. salen tantos deseos. las calles y deseos donde,don sabina nos cuenta,habita el olvido. y no solo el olvido.

y esos bares y tabernas donde, como iglesias raras, no predican redencion ni salvacion, solo comunion. y eso siempre lo encontraras. como la taberna italiana con paderes amarillas en la avenida sexta de cali. donde el due~o y el dj eran el mismo. un sudafricacano con abuelos holandeses y uno esposa boliviana. era siempre nuestro lugar preferido.

y ahora me cuenta mi amiga que nuestra taberna y el sudafricano ya no siguen alli. ahora el due~o es de cali. y tocan salsa o vallenato. como si no hubiera suficientes lugares con los sonidos de salsa o vallenato en cali. habia veces cuando a alguien le daba las ganas de escuchar a patsy cline o frank sinatra o quizas una cancion clasica de los beatles. y para eso uno tenia que ir a visitar al sudafricano en la taberna italiana en la avenida sexta de cali. donde por supuesto siempre se escuchaba la voz de manu. pero ahora mi amiga, junto con la taberna, dejo a cali y me cuenta que habita en carolina del norte. donde se conformaria en encontrar solo un lugar donde escuchar y bailar salsa.

the turkey lands

the turkey lands.

something didnt sit so well. delores downstairs was drenched. our bathtub apparently leaked.

kierkegaard spoke of a teleological suspension of the ethical. those were the days. now i merely write of ketchup stains and how much mustard costs. yet i pay. i pay for that damn good spicy mustard. the little, round glass can is always so much more expensive than that big, plastic squirt bottle. but thats the one you want. you always want the smaller one. its just so damn good.

so while the thanksgiving theater is going on, europe is busy building a joint defense. to defend against whom may i ask? the US is not pleased. im not sure who the US is exactly because i was never asked. it means cheney chums and blinded bushites.

el dia de gracias

watching a bit of walter on this dia de gracias. me dice a mi, genesis, que siga con mi poder de conviccion y de persuacion...pero como y cuando pueden ser lo mismo?

bueno dice que reciban todos este y todos los dias--paz y mucha paz pero sobre todo, mucho, mucho AMOR...

in other wor(L)ds,

more troops are sent to iraq y esto va pa largo...

bush beats

hmos, ppos and ieds....bush celebrates.

the paras disarm. or something seemingly close. or, perhaps, not even close. 800 out of 20,000 seems bleak for a process seeking to be completed by 2005.

The demobilised fighters will spend the following three weeks in a government camp, receiving counselling and training.

i wonder if farc or eln kids deciding to disarm would also be offered education scholarships, counseling and job training?

garagos gripes against those attacking his man.

glen campbell sings the blues. or at least, a rendition of rhinestone cowboy to a few drunk jailers...

and where is georgia was rhetorical, or something of the sort

for who the fuck cares...or who can say shevardnaze....

certainly not anyone in baghdad or iowa

in other worlds, not too far away,

harpers hodges juxtaposes the week so beautifully so. once again. apart from bush describing guantanamo prisoners as "illegal noncombatants", taking five chefs to england while us forces get there asses kicked by carts pulled by a bunch of donkeys, the best was this,

The Russian Orthodox Church denounced the Mormons for buying the names of dead Russians so they can baptize their dead souls. "Our ceremony is not rebaptism," said a spokesman for the Nizhni Novgorod Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, "it only gives the soul of the deceased person the freedom of choice to accept our belief or to reject it."

or maybe this,

A German cannibal named Armin Meiwes said he was sorry for killing and eating another man, who supposedly agreed to be eaten and shared a meal of his own penis with his killer. Prosecutors have charged Meiwes with "murder for sexual satisfaction," because cannibalism is not a crime in Germany.

not bad for a day. or a week. or something.

el dia in pictures

the day in pictures. courtesy of the bbc.

star, the turkey is pardoned. bush, however, is not. and should not be. bush spends time pardoning turkeys but cant spend time visiting families of soldiers killed in iraq.

in baghdad, time stands still. or at least pretends.

it's fashion week in china.

where's georgia anyway?

my friend thinks the right is right.

my dog doesnt seem to know how

to sit.

another day gone by.