viernes, 31 de julio de 2020

Herederos con peligro - en The Myself Monthly Review

Waiting for the Worms

El género de la sociedad política | Humberto González y Áxel Juárez | TC054





Se hace un poco extraño que no mencionen a Vico, que precisamente dedicó su Ciencia Nueva a explicar la evolución de las sociedades políticas a partir de las sociedades naturales.





—oOo—

Retropost, 2010: Katyn y más horrores

Aplaudidle como focas



https://youtu.be/J9kHM0cS2vk





—oOo—

DESPIERTA | InfoVlogger

El Virus del Apocalipsis

Importación y subvención de Menas Musulmanes

 Recibido por Whatsapp:


‼️ MUY    IMPORTANTE ‼️

El rey Mohamed VI es el hombre más rico de Marruecos y el quinto de todo el continente africano, con una fortuna que supera los 1.800 millones de euros.
Tiene bajo su nombre y dominio 12 palacios reales abiertos, con más de 1.200 funcionarios encargados de su cuidado y mantenimiento, posée 600 coches, viaja continuamente en avión privado a los más lujosos establecimientos de París y al resto de capitales, tiene un reloj con 1.075 diamantes valorado en 1,2 millón doscientos mil euros.
Más del 43% de la población de Marruecos es menor de 24 años, cerca de 14 millones de personas. La tasa de desempleo entre estos jovenes es del 22%.
El "parlamento" de Cataluña acaba de aprobar por UNANIMIDAD (con los votos del PP y Ciudadanos) que la paga de 664€ mensuales que recibe cada MENA (menor extranjero no acompañado) se alargue su cobro hasta los 23 años.
La deuda de la Cataluña ha aumentado en los diez últimos años de 20.825 millones de euros a 78.732 millones de euros, lo que supone una deuda de 10.475 euros por cada catalán y que acabarán pagando el resto de españoles.
El Tribunal de Cuentas acaba de certificar esta semana que la Seguridad Social española está en quiebra, con una deuda de 100 MIL millones de euros. También avisa de que el conjunto del sistema se encuentra en “PATRIMONIO NETO NEGATIVO” y reclama las reformas precisas que resuelvan de forma estable la situación.
NO hay dinero para las pensiones.
NO hay dinero para mantener la Seguridad Social.
La DEUDA PÚBLICA ESPAÑOLA continua creciendo y llega a la cifra record de 1 BILLON 184 MIL millones de euros.
Las "autonomías" continuan aumentando su deuda pública.
Pero aún así, se ofrece una paga de 664€ mensuales a todo extranjero menor de 23 años que llegue a nuestro país y no tenga trabajo.
Teniendo en cuenta que el salario mínimo en Marruecos es de 209€ al mes, el efecto llamada será inevitable.
Si ésto NO ES EL FIN de la España que nuestros antepasados hicieron con sangre, sudor y lágrimas, se le parece mucho y será un FIN aceptado y votado, luego NO nos quejemos.

‼️P Á S A L O,   QUE SE ENTERE TODO EL MUNDO, NO LO BORRES‼️🇪🇸

Refoto

Refoto

Traidores a sueldo en la universidad catalana

EXPEDIENTE ROYUELA. CAROD ROVIRA/ARNALDO OTEGI y el 11-M




Muy bien los reproches de InMatrix a la oposición "calladita", lamentable y tristemente calladita, incluyendo a Jiménez Losantos, César Vidal y Vox .... que es realmente incomprensible que no se hagan eco de los escándalos denunciados en el Expediente Royuela, y se están desacreditando así de la manera más gratuita y estúpida.


—oOo—

jueves, 30 de julio de 2020

Ça Marche (10)

La NASA lanza el Perseverance rumbo a Marte

Perseverance 7







—oOo—

Vóxfobos


Muchas gentes que en otras cosas parecen tener buen criterio, con Vox se ciegan como un toro con un capote, y en lugar de al Vox de Abascal critican al Vox de Sánchez o al Vox de Casado.   Por ejemplo Matthew Bennett:








The Dylan Review

Christopher Rollason on the latest issue of The Dylan Review:

Posted on 30 July 2020 at: https://rollason.wordpress.com/2020/07/30/the-dylan-review-volume-2-1/
THE DYLAN REVIEW, Volume 2.1
Now out is the third issue (Volume 2.1, summer 2020) of the Dylan Review, the open-access online journal launched in 2019 and dedicated to the academic study of Bob Dylan’s work, and of which I am an editorial board member. The new issue is available at:
https://www.dylanreview.org/vol-2-1-summer-2020
(for the earlier issues, see entries on my blog (http://rollason.wordpress.com) for 19 July 2019 and 10 January 2020).
I believe this new issue is of a very high standard. As is only fitting, several articles home in on Dylan's new album, Rough and Rowdy Ways: Charles Hartman offers a review from a musicological perspective; Richard Thomas draws out in fascinating detail the album’s multiple references to the Greco-Roman classics; and Anne Margaret Daniel focuses on the album’s stellar track ‘Murder Most Foul’ and its legion of allusions. Another recent release, ‘Travelin' Thru: The Bootleg Series Vol. 15 1967-1969’, merits an informed review by John and Tim Hunt. Graley Herren enters the long-standing debate on Dylan’s Chronicles Volume One and its status as autobiographical fact or fiction; and there is a fascinating interview with Mark Davidson, librarian of the Bob Dylan Archive in Tulsa, Oklahoma, on the future of Dylan studies in the archive and beyond.
The issue is available as a single .pdf, and the individual pieces can be accessed in both .pdf and webpage form. The quality of the various contributions shows that even with the Never-End Tour put on ice, Dylan studies are not only very much alive, but ever-expanding!
___________________


Reviewing here:




Mirando fotos en La Noche de los Tiempos

El Quilombo / Entrevista al crítico literario Lorenzo Rodríguez sobre la obra de Juan Marsé

Moción de censura contra el Gobierno Sánchez e Iglesias







La estafa del Comité de Expertos


 El Comité Secreto de Expertos que No Debían Sentirse Presionados  NUNCA EXISTIÓ.






ABC. "El gobierno reconoce en una respuesta oficial que nunca existió el comité de expertos para la desescalada." ABC 29 July 2020.*
         2020










—Y mira que ya parecía tarde, en la segunda quincena de marzo, para crear ese comité.








—oOo—



Médicos por la Verdad

Los diez sapos que se tragarán Sánchez e Iglesias con el rescate

miércoles, 29 de julio de 2020

Editorial: Sánchez bate récords: 1.000.000 de parados, 3.000.000 en las puertas del paro

Los presos del procés son devueltos a prisión entre maldiciones contra España

Plandemia

Vox presentará una moción de censura contra Sánchez







El PSOE es una plaga para España—pero el PP es la otra cara de la misma plaga.



—oOo—

Consecuencias económicas de la pandemia


Poco nuevo bajo el sol. En 1826 publica Mary Shelley The Last Man, una novela de anticipación, ambientada a finales del siglo XXI, sobre el fin de la humanidad como consecuencia de una pandemia apocalíptica. Sin que tengamos previsto llegar a tales extremos, sí tienen un aire de familiaridad presente algunas de las escenas de la novela, a medida que la peste se extiende y va destruyendo vidas y haciendas, dejando sentir sus efectos en la economía global aun antes de que llegue la pandemia a una nación. Dejo de muestra unas páginas del capítulo 16 de The Last Man:



What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many that people infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism of our being is subject to merest accident. Day by day we are forced to believe this. He whom a scratch has disorganized, he who disappears from apparent life under the influence of the hostile agency at work around us, had the same powers as I—I am also subject to the same laws. In the face of all this we call ourselves lords of the creation, wielders of the elements, masters of life and death, and we allege in excuse of this arrogance, that though the individual is destroyed, man continues for ever.

Thus, losing our identity, that of which we are chiefly conscious, we glory in the continuity of our species, and learn to regard death without terror. But when any whole nation becomes the victim of the destructive powers of exterior agents, then indeed man shrinks into insignificance, he feels his tenure of life insecure, his inheritance on earth cut off.

I remember, after having witnessed the destructive effects of a fire, I could not even behold a small one in a stove, without a sensation of fear. The mounting flames had curled around the building, as it fell, and was destroyed. They insinuated themselves into the substances about them, and the impediments to their progress yielded at their touch. Could we take integral parts of this power, and not be subject to its operation? Could we domesticate a cub of this wild beast, and not fear its growth and maturity?

Thus we began to feel, with regard to many-visaged death let loose on the chosen districts of our fair habitation, and above all, with regard to the plague. We feared the coming summer. Nations, bordering on the already infected countries, began to enter upon serious plans for the better keeping out of the enemy. We, a commercial people, were obliged to bring such schemes under consideration; and the question of contagion became matter of earnest disquisition.

That the plague was not what is commonly called contagious, like the scarlet fever, or extinct small-pox, was proved. It was called an epidemic. But the grand question was still unsettled of how this epidemic was generated and increased. If infection depended upon the air, the air was subject to infection. As for instance, a typhus fever has been brought by ships to one sea-port town; yet the very people who brought it there, were incapable of communicating it in a town more fortunately situated. But how are we to judge of airs, and pronounce—in such a city plague will die unproductive; in such another, nature has provided for it a plentiful harvest? In the same way, individuals may escape ninety-nine times, and receive the death-blow at the hundredth; because bodies are sometimes in a state to reject the infection of malady, and at others, thirsty to imbibe it. These reflections made our legislators pause, before they could decide on the laws to be put in force. The evil was so wide-spreading, so violent and immedicable, that no care, no prevention could be judged superfluous, which even added a chance to our escape.

These were questions of prudence; there was no immediate necessity for an earnest caution. England was still secure, France, Germany, Italy and Spain, were interposed, walls yet without a breach, between us and the plague. Our vessels truly wre the sports of winds and waves, even as Tulliver was the toy of the Brobdignagians; but we on our stable abode could not be hurt in life or limb by these eruptions of nature. We could not fear—we did not. Yet a feeling of awe, a breathless sentiment of wonder, a painful sense of the degradation of humanity, was introduced into every heart. Nature, our mother, and our friend had turned on us a brow of menace. She shewed us plainly, that, though she permitted us to assign her laws and subdue her apparent powers, yet, if she put forth but a finger, we must quake. She could take our globe, fringed with mountains, girded by the atmosphere, containing the condition of our being, and all that man's mind could invent or his force achieve; she could take the ball in her hand, and cast it into space, where life would be drunk up, and man and all his efforts for ever annihilated.

These speculations were rife among us; yet not the less we proceeded in our daily occupations, and our plans, whose accomplishment demanded the lapse of many years. No voice was heard telling us to hold! When foreign distresses came to be felt by us through the channels of commerce, we set ourselves to apply remedies. Subscriptions were made for the emigrants, and merchants bankrupt by the failure of trade. The English spirit awoke to its full activity, and, as it had ever done, set itself to resist the evil, and to stand in the breach which diseased nature had suffered chaos and death to make in the bounds and banks which had hitherto kept them out.  

At the commencement of summer, we began to feel, that the mischief which had taken place in distant countries was greater than we had at first suspected. Quito was destroyed by an earthquake. Mexico laid waste by the united effects of storm, pestilence and famine. Crowds of emigrants inundated the west of Europe; and our island had become the refuge of thousands. In the mean time Ryland had been chosen Protector. He had sought this office with eagerness, under the idea of turning his whole forces to the suppression of the privileged orders of our community. His measures were thwarted, and his schemes interrupted by this new state of things. Many of the foreigners were utterly destitute; and their increasing numbers at length forbade a recourse to the usual modes of relief. Trade was stopped by the failure of the interchange of cargoes usual between us, and America, India, Egypt and Greece. A sudden break was made in the routine of our lives. In vain our Protector and his partizans sought to conceal this truth; in vain, day after day, he appointed a period for the discussion of the new laws concerning hereditary rank and privilege; in vain he endeavoured to represent the evil as partial and temporary. These disasters came home to so many bosoms, and, though the various channels of commerce, were carried so entirely into every calss and division of the community, that of necessity they became the first question in the state, the chief subjects to which we must turn our attention. Can it be true, each asked the other with wonder and dismay, that whole countries are laid waste, whole nations annihilated, by these disorders in nature? The vast cities of America, the fertile plains of Hindostan, the crowded abodes of the Chinese, are menaced with utter ruin. Where late the busy multitudes assembled for pleasure or profit, now only the sound of wailing and misery is heard. The air is empoisoned, and each human being inhales death, even while in youth and health, their hopes are in the flower. We called to mind the plague of 1348, when it was calculated that a third of mankind had been destroyed. As yet western Europe was uninfected; would it always be so?

O, yes, it would—Countrymen, fear not! in the still uncultivated wilds of America, what wonder that among its other giant destroyers, Plague should be numbered! It is of old a native of the East, sister of the tornado, the earthquake, and the simoom. Child of the sun, and nursling of the tropics, it would expire in these climes. It drinks the dark blood of the inhabitant of the south, but it never feasts on the pale-faced Celt. If perchance some stricken Asiatic come among us, plague dies with him, uncommunicated and innoxious. Let us weep for our brethren, though we can never experience their reverse. Let us lament over and assist the children of the garden of the earth. Late we envied their abodes, their spicy groves, fertile plains, and abundant loveliness. But in this morta life extremes are always matched; the thorn grows with the rose, the poison tree and the cinnamon mingle their boughs. Persia, with its cloth of gold, marble halls, and infinite wealth, is now a tomb. The tent of the Arab is fallen on the sands, and his horse spurns the ground unbridled and unsaddled. The voice of lamentation fills the valley of Cashmere; its dells and woods, its cool fountains, and gardens of roses, are polluted by the dead; in Circassia and Georgia the spirit of beauty weeps over the ruin of its favourite temple—the form of woman.

Our own distresses, though they were occasioned by the fictitious reciprocity of commerce, encreased in due proportion. Bankers, merchants, and manufacturers, whose trade depended on exports and interchange of wealth, became bankrupt. Such things, when they happen singly, affect only the immediate parties; but the prosperity of the nation was now shaken by frequent and extensive losses. Families, bred in opulence and luxury, were reduced to beggary. The very state of peace in which we gloried was injurious; there were no means of employing the idel, or of sending any overplus of population out of the country. Even the source of colonies was dried up, for in New Holland, Van Diemen's Land, and the Cape of Good Hope, plague raged. O, for some medicinal vial to purge unwholesome nature, and bring back the earth to its accustomed health!

Ryland was a man of strong intellects and quick and sound decision in the usual course of things, but he stood aghast at the multitude of evils that gathered round us. Must he tax the landed interest to assist our commercial population? To do this, he must gain the favour of the chief land-holders, the nobility of the country; and these were his vowed enemies—he must conciliate them by abandoning his favourite scheme of equalization; he must confirm them in their manorial rights; he must aim no more at the dear object of his ambition; throwing his arms aside, he must for present ends give up the ultimate object of his endavours. He came to Windsor to consult with us. Every day added to his difficulties; the arrival of fresh vessels with emigrants, the total cessation of commerce, the starving multitude that thronged around the palace of the Protectorate, were circumstances not to be tampered with. The blow was struck; the aristocracy obtained all they wished, and they subscribed to a twelvemonths' bill, which levied twenty percent on all the rent-rolls of the country. 

Calm was now restored to the metropolis, and to the populous cieties, before driven to desperation; and we returned to the consideration of distant calamities, wondering if the future would bring any alleviation to their excess. It was August; so there could be small hope of relief during the heats. On the contrary, the disease gained virulence, while starvation did its accustomed work. Thousands died unlamented; for beside the yet warm corpse the mourner was stretched, made mute by death.

On the eighteenth of this month news arrived in London that the plague was in France and Italy. These tidings were at first whispered about town; but no one dared express aloud the soul-quailing intelligence. When any one met a friend in the street, he only cried as he hurried on, 'You know!'—while the other, with an ejaculation of fear and horror, would answer, —'What will become of us?' At lenght it was mentioned in the newspapers. The paragraph was inserted in and obscure part: 'We regret to state that there can be no longer a doubt of the plague having been introduced at Leghorn, Genoa, and Marseilles.' No word of comment followed; each reader made his own fearful one. We were as a man who hears that his house is burning, and yet hurries through the streets, borne along by a lurking hope of a mistake, till he turns the corner, and sees his sheltering roof enveloped in a flame. Before it had been a rumour; but now in words uneraseable, in definite and undeniable print, the knowledge went forth. Its obscurity of situation rendered it the more conspicuous: the diminutive letters grew gigantic to the bewildered eye of fear: they seemed graven with a pen of iron, impressed by fire, woven in the clouds, stamped on the very front of the universe.




—oOo—





Un millón de parados más

Expediente Royuela y psicosis

The Dramatis Personae of Active Life


From Mary Shelley's The Last Man (Penguin, p. 227-28):

We had lived so long in the vicinity of Eton, that its population of young folks was well known to us. Many of them had been Alfred's playmates, before they became his school-fellows. We now watched this youthful congregation with redoubled interest. We marked the difference of character among the boys, and endeavoured to read the future man in the stripling. There is nothing more lovely, to which the heart more yearns than a free-spirited boy, gentle, brave, and generous. Several of the Etonians had these characteristics; all were distinguished by a sense of honour, and spirit of enterprize; in some, as they verged towards manhood, this degenerated into presumption; but the younger ones, lads a little older than our own, were conspicuous for their gallant and sweet dispositions.

Here were the future governors of England; the men, who, when our ardour was cold, and our projects completed or destroyed for ever, when, our drama acted, we doffed the garb of the hour, and assumed the uniform of age, or of more equalizing death; here were the beings who were to carry on the vast machine of society; here were the lovers, husbands, fathers; here the landlord, the politician, the soldier; some fancied that they were even now ready to appear on the stage, eager to make one among the dramatis personae of active life. It was not long since I was like one of these beardless aspirants; when my boy shall have obtained tha place I now hold, I shall have tottered into a grey-headed, wrinkled old man. Strange system! riddle of the Sphynx, most awe-striking! that thus man remains, while we the individuals pass away. Such is, to borrow the words of an eloquent and philosophical writer, 'the mode of existence decreed to a pemanent body composed of transitory parts; wherein, by the disposition of a stupendous wisdom, moulding together the great mysterious incorporation of the human race, the whole, at one time, is never old, or middle-aged, or young, but, in a condition of unchangeable constancy, moves on through the varied tenour of perpetual decay, fall, renovation, and progression" (Burke's Reflections on the French Revolution).

Willingly do I give place to thee, dear Alfred! Advance, offspring of tender love, child of our hopes; advance a soldier on the road to which I have been the pioneer! I will make way for thee. I have already put off the carelessness of chilhood, the unlined brow, and sprightly gait of early years, that they may adorn thee. Advance; and I will despoil myself still further for thy advantage. Time shall rob me of the graces of maturity, shall take the fire from my eyes, and agility from my limbs, shall steal the better part of life, eager expectation and passionate love, and shower them in double portion on thy dear head. Advance! Avail thyself of the fit, thou and thy comrades; and in the drama you are about to act, do not disgrace those who taught you to enter on the stage, and to pronounce becomingly the parts assigned to you! May your progress be uninterrupted and secure; born during the springtide of the hopes of man, may you lead up the summer to which no winter may succeed!





—oOo—

martes, 28 de julio de 2020

España no desea recuperar Gibraltar

Científico italiano ADVIERTE sobre los PELIGROS de llevar mascarilla

Salto en Arás

Foto de mi hermano a Marco:


Salto en Arás

Javier Negre entrevista a Javier Ortega Smith

Otra demanda de Vox



Me cabe la duda de si los de Vox son realmente almas tan cándidas que le siguen teniendo fe al Tribunal Supremo.  Oigan, por mí que se retraten, los del Supremo, pero es que ya tenemos en este país una galería de retratos hasta el horizonte, y todo da igual.






Entretanto, Vox lleva a los tribunales por desobediencia a la Mesa del Parlamento catalán. Por ellos que no quede. Luego, los jueces, flojitos como poco.

—oOo—





Vox, "radical", "minoritario" e insultable

lunes, 27 de julio de 2020

9,3 MILLONES DE €!!!! - NO ES EL DÍA DE IGLESIAS!!! - LA HORA 2.0

Apestados

Unmasking the Detective-Murderer


Aquí se nos cita y recomienda—en Oxford:


Kemp, Simon. (U of Oxford). "Unmasking the Detective-Murderer in the Novels of Alain Robbe-Grillet." From Exposure: Revealing Bodies, Unveiling Representations. Bern: Peter Lang, 2004. 96-106. Online at Academia.*
         2020


—oOo—

¡TREMENDO! CARLOS CUESTA: Sánchez busca un nuevo confinamiento para llevarnos a una dictadura

Récords míos 7

Récords míos 6

Refoto

Refoto

El golpe de Sánchez









—oOo—

EXPEDIENTE ROYUELA (Siguen ignorándolos)








—oOo—

Inserción de niveles

Sinvergüenza desde la vicepresidencia

domingo, 26 de julio de 2020

Cuando me encontré con mi hermanica en la plaza

Cuando me encontré con mi hermanica en la plaza

El Reconstructor

viernes, 24 de julio de 2020

Donde el delfín

Donde el delfín

El vicepresidente, agente iraní










Before Shakespeare

El resurgir de la Garduña

El resurgir de la Garduña: https://www.facebook.com/JoseAngelGarciaLanda/posts/10157548662340423

Ni un confinamiento más

miércoles, 22 de julio de 2020

La Inmensa Minoría | 21-07-2020

Refoto

Refoto de Flickr

Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico


En este retropost de 2010 hablamos de Miguel de Unamuno y de su doble escepticismo, escepticismo ante la fe y ante el ateísmo. Es un libro desilusionado, San Manuel Bueno, Mártir—desilusionado con las creencias religiosas, y desilusionado con el ateísmo. Una vez perdida la ilusión en redimir a la humanidad en este o en el otro mundo, la novela mantiene sin embargo la ilusión de que vale la pena mantener las ilusiones... en los demás. Y es cierto que, aunque a veces resulta inevitable, suele ser poco elegante el privar a la gente de sus ilusiones.






English abstract: This retro-post from 2010 addresses Miguel de Unamuno and his double skeptic attitude, skepticism towards faith and towards unbelief. The novel San Manuel Bueno, Mártir expresses his disillusion with religious belief and his disillusion with atheism. Once the illusion to redeem humankind in this world or in the other is dispelled, the novel upholds nonetheless the belief that illusions are worth maintaining... in others. And it is true that, while it is sometimes inevitable, dispelling other people's illusions is often lacking in elegance. 

Note: Downloadable document available in Spanish.



Garcia Landa, Jose Angel, Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico (Let Them Dream Themselves Immortal: Unamuno, a Double Skeptic) (2010). Ibercampus (June 4, 2020), Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=3620226





eJournal Classifications
AARN Subject Matter eJournals
    
        
            

PRN Subject Matter eJournals
    
        

PRN Subject Matter eJournals
    
        

PRN Subject Matter eJournals
    










 
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales." In García Landa, Vanity Fea 5 June 2010.*
         2010
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." Ibercampus (Vanity Fea) 4 June 2020.*
         2020
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." Social Science Research Network 30 June 2020.*
         2020
         Anthropology of Religion eJournal 30 June 2020.*
         2020
         Continental Philosophy eJournal 30 June 2020.*
         2020
         Ethics eJournal 30 June 2020.*
         2020
         Philosophy of Religion eJournal 30 June 2020.*
         2020


_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." Academia 26 July 2020.*
         2020
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." ResearchGate 30 July 2020.*
         2020
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." Humanities Commons 9 Aug. 2020.*
         2020
_____. "Que se sueñen inmortales: Unamuno, doblemente escéptico." In García Landa, Vanity Fea 22 July 2020.*
         2020




—oOo—

Paul McCartney & Wings - Mull Of Kintyre








I'm Your Man

El petróleo no remonta

La Caja B de Podemos

Trump ya está en campaña

España rescatada

Docencia 2020-2021



Pasado el último Consejo de departamento, parece que queda así mi docencia para el curso que (se nos) viene.


 
José Ángel García Landa (disp.230h. / cubre 238h.)
En el Grado de Estudios Ingleses:

27820 Literatura inglesa, II Grupo1: t1 (30h.) + t2 (30h.) + t6 (6h.)= 66h
27820 Literatura inglesa, II Grupo 2: t1 (30h.) + t2 (30h.) + t6 (6h.)= 66h

27843 Géneros literarios en la literatura inglesa, I Grupo 1: t1(20h.) + t2 (20h.)= 40h.


En el Grado en Lenguas Modernas:
30432 Introducción a la Literatura Inglesa: t1 (45h.) + t2 (15h.) + t6 (6h.)= 66h.


La gestión del Covid de Torra es una vergüenza,querían las competencias y gestionaron peor que Sánchez

Subvenciones a separatas

Recibido por Whatsapp.

Con frecuencia tengo que darme un pellizco para comprobar que no estoy soñando o que no tengo alucinaciones. Pero en ningún lugar del Orbe terráqueo ni en ningún recoveco de la historia universal se ha dado el caso de que el propio Estado, encabezado por su Gobierno, proteja y subvencione a partidos / organizaciones que están conspirando constantemente para la destrucción de ese mismo estado. No hay NADA que se le pueda igualar.


                                            https://www.europapress.es/nacional/noticia-independentistas-erc-junts-bildu-recibiran-315-millones-subvenciones-escanos-20190429172647.html


—oOo—

Refoto

Refoto

La gramática es racista



Frank, Alex. (Texas Christian U). "Rutgers English Department do De-Emphasize Traditional Grammar 'in solidarity with Black Lives Matter'." The College Fix 20 July 2020.*
         2020


—oOo—



Tenacious Self-Absorption

martes, 21 de julio de 2020

Al menos no se dirá que disimulan


El gobierno de Grande Marlasca quiere quitar el lema patriótico de los cuarteles de la Guardia Civil. Al menos no se dirá que disimulan.






Entrevista a Iván Espinosa de los Monteros: "La influencia de España ha ...

2016, the Year without a Summer

EXPEDIENTE ROYUELA ,ASESINATOS,CORRUPCION,BLANQUEO DE DINERO ,!SILENCIADO !




























El Diestro. "Si
te contaran en alguna televisión todos estos escándalos que se cuentan en
#ExpedienteRoyuela sobre Otegi, Carod Rovira, Marlaska y el 11-M, ¿qué pensarías?
Y con pruebas." El Diestro 21
July 2020.*






         2020


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Godwin, Derrida, la citacionalidad, los roles, y el individuo como efecto estructural


¿Carecemos de sustancia? ¿Somos, vanidad de vanidades, una colección de gestos repetidos y citas ambulantes, sin nada nuevo bajo el sol? Comparemos las ideas al respecto de two musty old fellows, Godwin y Derrida. Empezando por Godwin, que antes de Derrida, antes de Deleuze, fue un filósofo de la diferencia y la repetición.





De William Godwin, "Of Imitation and Invention" (Thoughts on Man, X; 1831):


Yet what is human speech for the most part but mere imitation? In the most obvious sense this stands out on the surface. We learn the same words, we speak the same language, as our elders. Not only our words, but our phrases, are the same. We are like players, who come out as if they were real persons, but only utter what is set down for them. We represent the same drama every day; and, however stale is the eternal repetition, pass it off upon others, and even upon ourselves, as if it were the suggestion of the moment. In reality, in rural or vulgar life, the invention of a new phrase ought to be marked down among the memorable things in the calendar (...)

Our religion, our civil practices, our political creed, are all imitation. How many men are there, that have examined the evidences of their religious belief, and can give a sound "reason of the faith that is in them?" When I was a child, I was taught that there are four religions in the world, the Popish, the Protestant, the Mahometan, the Pagan. It is a phenomenon to find the man, who has held the balance steady, and rendered full and exact justice to the pretensions of each of these. No: tell me the longitude and latitude in which a man is born, and I will tell you his religion.
By education most have been misled;
So they believe, because they so were bred:
The priest continues what the nurse began,
And thus the child imposes on the man.
And, if this happens, where we are told our everlasting salvation is at issue, we may easily judge of the rest.

[Solomon] has observed, "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth for ever". It is a maxim o the English constitution that "the king never dies," and the same may with nearly equal propriety be observed of every private man, especially if he have children. "Death," say the writers of natural history, "is the generator of life:" and what is thus true of animal corruption, may with small variation be affirmed of human mortality. I turn off my footman, and hire another; and he puts on the livery of his predecessor: he thinks himself somebody; but he is only a tenant. The same thing is true, when a country-gentleman, a noble, a bishop, or a king dies. He puts off his garmens, and another puts them on. Every one knows the story of the Tartarian dervvise, who mistook the royal palace for a caravansera, and who proved to his magesty by genealogical deduction, that he was only a lodger. In this sense the mutability, which so eminently characterises everything sublunary, is immutability under another name.

The most calamitous, and the most stupendous scenes are nothing but an eternal and wearisome repetition: executions, murders, plagues, famine and battle. Military execution, the demolition of cities, the conquest of nations, have been acted a hundred times before. The mighty conqueror, who "smote the people in wrath with a continual stroke," who "sat in the seat of God, shewing himself that he was God," and assuredly persuaded himself that he was doing something to be had in everlasting remembrance, only did that which a hundred other vulgar conquerors had done in successive ages of the world, whose very names have long since perished from the records of mankind.

Thus it is that the human species is for ever engaged in laborious idleness. We put our shoulder to the wheel, and raise the vehicle out of the mire in which it was swallowed, and we say, I have done something; but the same feat under the same circumstances has been performed a thousand times before. We make what strikes us as a profound observation; and, when fairly analysed, it turns out to be about as sagacious, as if we told what's o'clock, or whether it is rain or sunsine. Nothing can be more delightfully ludicrous, than the important and emphatical air with which the herd of mankind enunciate the most trifling observations. With much labour we are delivered of what is to us a new thought; and, after a time, we find the same in a musty volume, thrown by in a corner, and covered with cobwebs and dust.

This is pleasantly ridiculed in the well known exclamation,
Deuce take the old fellows who gave utterance to our wit,
before we ever thought of it!









A comparar y cotejar con las ideas desconstructivistas de Jacques Derrida, en su versión ficcionalizada en la novela de Laurent Binet La Septième Fonction du langage (2015). Tal y como aparecen enunciadas en una conferencia "A Sec Solo" que imparte este logrado Derrida en el congreso Shift to Overdrive in the Linguistic Turn (Cornell University, 1980):


Derrida déroule:

"Quelle est l'unité ou l'identité du locuteur? Est-il responsable des speech acts que lui dicte son inconscient? Car j'ai aussi le mien qui peut vouloir faire plaisir à Sarl en tant qu'il veut être critiqué, lui faire de la peine en ne le critiquant pas, lui faire plaisir en ne le critiquant pas et de la peine en le critiquant, lui promettre une menace ou le menacer d'une promesse, m'offir aussi à la critique en prenant plaisir à dire des choses 'obviously false', jouir de ma faiblesse ou aimer l'exhibition par-dessus tout, etc."

Évidemment, tout l'assistence se retroune vers Searle qui, comme s'il avait anticipé ce moment, s'est placé exactement au centre des gradins. L'homme seul au milieu de la foule: on dirait un plan hitchcockien. Son visage impassible ne cille pas ous le poids des regards. C'est bien simple, on dirait qu'il est empaillé.

Et d'ailleurs, lorsque je fais des phrases, est-ce vraiment moi qui parle? Comment quiconque pourrait-il jamais dire quelque chose d'original, de personnel, de propre, quand par définition le langage nous oblige à puiser dans un trésor de mots préexistants (le fameux trésor de la langue)? Quand nous sommes traversés par tellement d'agents extérieurs: notre époque, nos lectures, nos déterminismes socioculturels, nos 'tics' de langage tellement précieux pour nous faire une identité (comme on dirait 'se faire une beauté'), les discours dont nous sommes constamment bombardés, sous toutes les formes possibles et imaginables.

Qui n'a jamais pris en flagrant délit un ami, un parent, un collègue de bureau ou un beau-père en train de répéter quasiment mot pour mot l'argumentaire qu'il aura lu dans un journal ou entendu à la télé, comme si c'était lui qui parlait en son nom propre, comme s'il s'était approprié ce discours, comme s'il en était la source et n'était pas traversé par lui, reprenant les mêmes formules, la même rhétorique, les mêmes présupposés, les mêmes inflexions indigneée, le même air entendu, comme s'il n'était pas le simple médium par lequel la voix différée d'un journal répétant lui-même les propos d'un homme politique qui lui-même avait lu dans un livre dont l'auteur, et ainsi de suite, la voix, disais-je, nomade et sans origine d'un locuteur fantôme s'exprimait, communiquait, au sens où deux lieux communiquent l'un avec l'autre par un passage. 

Répétant ce qu'il a lu dans le journal, dans quelle mesure la conversation de votre beau-père n'est-elle pas une citation? 

Derrida a repris comme si de rien n'était le fil de son propos. Il aborde son autre question centrale: la citationnalité. Ou plutôt l'itérabilité (Simon n'est pas certain d'avoir saisi la différence.)

Pour être entendu, au moins partiellement, par notre interlocuteur, nous devons employer la même langue. Nous devons répéter (réitérer) des mots qui ont déjà été utilisés, sans quoi notre interlocuteur ne pourra pas les comprendre. Nous sommes donc toujours, fatalement, dans une forme de citation. Nous utilisons les mots des autres. Or, comme pour le téléphone arabe, il est plus que probable, il est inéluctable, qu'au fil des répétitions, nous employions les mots des autres, tous autant que nous sommes, dans un sens légèrement différent les uns des autres.
La voix de pied-noir de Derrida se fait plus solennelle et enfle:

"Cela même qui assurera, au-delà de ce moment, le fonctionnement de la marque (psychique, orale, graphique, peu importe), à savoir la possibilité d'être repétée une autre fois, cela même entame, divise, exproprie la plénitude ou la présence à soi "idéales" de l'intention, du vouloir-dire et a fortiori de l'adéquation entre meaning et saying."

Judith, Simon, la jeune femme aux cheveux noirs, Cixous, Guattari, Slimane, toute la salle et même Bayard sont suspendus à ses lèvres quand il dit:

"Limitant cela même qu'elle autorise, transgressant le code ou la loi qu'elle constitue, l'itérabilité inscrit, de façon irréductible, l'altération dans la répétition."

Et il ajoute, impérial:

"L'accident n'est jamais un accident."







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