The new tide

Everyone's been flooded with information on the attack during patriots day, it's consequences, the hunt, how it all ended. So I guess it's not very useful to write a summary of the events because that can be found pretty much everywhere. I wanted to get a few things out of my chest though, so this is merely a subjective post (I guess all of my posts kind of are anyways):

My new hometown grieved this week; it also carried out a fast and effective hunt of the culprits: Two brothers that had emigrated years ago and were living in Cambridge. When the details on them and their background were released I couldn't be sadder. I'm sad for the younger brother, he's just 19, should be getting into college, going out with girls (or boys) and not blowing up people.

 Last night, after the kid was caught, the bars opened, people went to the streets and celebrated. I'd like to think most were celebrating the fact that they don't need to live in fear. I was happy to be able to get out of my room and breathe some fresh air. I went to the store and got some beer.

In Malden (the suburb where I now live), one day before they shut down the city, a Syrian woman was harassed on the street. A guy screamed at her and called her a terrorist. The story was published on The Boston Globe's website (I just went to check it and they took it out, but it's still on the Facebook page where I originally saw it [I'm printing the screen]).

Malden is an immigrant neighborhood: there's lots of Arabs, Chinese, Indians, Brazilians, etc. I like it here, food is good. I really hope this harassment incident was a one time thing. This is the land of the free after all.

Read about Writing, Write about Reading

It's been a few weeks since my last entry. I resumed my work in Boston, I got my computer fixed, and I noticed how I don't really need it anymore for the most part of my week, but when I do and it's not there I really miss it. Not having my laptop with me meant not being able to write properly a blog entry. It meant not being able to backup the photos I took over the holidays, or upload them to the inter-webs. I kept up to date with the weather, checked my email, and browsed my face-book-news-wall thanks to my phone, but I haven't had the chance to do anything important. Now I have windows 8 (it kind of sucks [although it is quite pretty]), I was able to backup all my files, and have switched to open office. As I wait a few minutes for my most precious electronic belonging to download back into my laptop (my music library), I sip some tea, and write a bit.

One can not really write if one doesn't read. I remember having read a book by Steven King when I was a kid, it was called While I Write. In it he writes quick-tips and rules of thumb he normally follows (I still remember quite a few), and one of them is that he tries to read at least ten times more than what he writes. This seemed quite a lot to me back in the day, but lately I've come to realize it's not that much really: If a writer gets one novel done per year, and he reads about a book a month, he'll be already reading twelve times more than what he writes... Does this mean that Steven King doesn't read enough? It may appear that way.

In his defense, I also remember another rule of thumb (I don't remember anymore where I heard/read it but it's been stuck in my mind for a lot of time so the source must have been credible) that says: one can not read about what one does not know (I think I already talked a bit about this previously). So it's important to have something to say when one writes, and it's easier to write about life and stuff when one spends a good amount of time at living it... and stuff. So I guess we'll give Mr. King the benefit of the doubt and assume he spends a lot of time hunting ghosts and fighting demons.

In the department of reading I've been quite active. I finished Love in the Times of Cholera. I also finished the Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, and the Great Gatsby. I really enjoyed the three of them:

• Garcia Marquez's book was astonishingly simple in form. In essence, I didn't get the whole Magical Realism thing except for a few bits of fantasy (there's an immortal parrot) here and there. The whole story is actually quite similar to that of my grandpa and my grandma, or to stories they used to tell me when I was little, about their friends, about oddities that happened in their little town when they were young.
• Stieg Larsson's book was just as good as the previous two in Froken Salander's trilogy. Though the story is quite predictable (logical maybe?) at certain parts, it is quite witty. The story develops at several depths in quite an intense way. It is a story about society and the authorities, but also one about gender inequalities, about the foundation of democracy, about journalism, and it is also a spy novel.
• Fitzgerald's most famous work was a fun break from big novels with many plots. It's amazing how a tiny story can achieve such greatness. I guess it's all about being American: Americans are concise. On that note, last weekend I saw at the Library (the one on 5^th Avenue and 42^nd Street) an exhibition on NY lunches, and a cool phrase was being displayed: the American is born fast, grows fast, makes up his mind fast, eats fast, gets rich fast, and dies fast.

In keeping up with Latin America, the next book on my list is be Cabaret Místico, by Alejandro Jodorowsky. I can't wait to start reading.

Live! From Babylon

I haven't been really good at maintaining this space. Truth being said, i even have a rough time to stay in touch with most of my friends: never finding the time and/or inspiration to let them know in some cool way that i care about them, i hope they fine, and that they're often in my mind. 2013 just started, and it brings the right time to reflect on quite a few things, i should make a small list of things i should accomplish now that I'm finally about to have enough personal time and peace (now that I'm getting old). Writing a lot more is going to be on that list. What can i write about? Writing to friends helps, i can also write to-do lists, maybe some recipes, ideas as they come, i guess starting small will be ok, and soon greater things will come.

It is a bit hard to get good inspiration here in Boston, at least through my monotonous working bee lens. If i want to find something worth writing about in this civilized soil, I'll have to look away from my cubicle and walks through the malls, I'll have to pay little or no attention to the millions of tv shows everyone else follows (even though some of them are sooooo gooooood). Sure i will make use of my Latin (not roman) point of view, but i don't want to overuse my most notorious trait... Too much spice numbs the tongue i guess.

My trip to Mexico was cool. I could have used a couple more weeks of slacking though. I missed my mates. I missed the beer and the laughs. I missed the ways of my people, where everything is chill and money is scarce, but no one really cares that much (unless you start a family cause then you have to be kind of responsible sometimes).

I started the year in new york. It was cool to walk through the crowds and just take it all in. It didn't look like a hurricane just hit it. The city was working at full speed. The first of January, everything but the museums was open. People of all colors, immigrants and visitors from everywhere all together, shopping, eating burgers, taking pictures. We took quite a few photos as well (and yes we had a burger too, it was good). I really like New York. Being there is like being at the center of the world. True that the US is not what it used to be, but it is still in Wall Street where economy is decided, it is Manhattan (maybe Brooklyn lately) where most of the art comes from. I guess that this late touch of decay only serves to make more evident that The City is the modern Babylon. I will be back to New York in a couple of weeks. I'm looking forward to it for quite a few good reasons (they all have the same name). But for the time being, good old Boston will have to suffice.

Aye.