A few days ago I found a page that was a completely waste of time: a silly flash animation that would change when refreshing. Seems that, just like me, many people got to procrastinate with the dumb site. As an ‘extreme’ challenge, I thought I could use the trivial contents to tell a story (brief one, since so many links can make it annoying). The result is as follows, and I invite bloggers to take the challenge (be it through that site, Google images or whatever) and the readers to… well, to waste some more time…

I was feeling quite [O], about four months ago I ended a relationship of more than thirteen years… actually, it was more like the relationship ended with me, through [O]. I met Mary, my [O], at school. We experienced the sexual wakening together and we stayd a couple since those times of [O]. You get so used to something that ends up being part of you and, when you lose, has to be very similar feeling to someone losing a limb: it’s not there, but you still feel it. I was like [O].

When John [O], we repeated the charade of the few last weekends: “C’mon man, you have to go [O] a bit. You can’t stay like that for the rest of your life, be [O]!”.
Of course I understood him, and it’s not that he was an eternal bachelor needing a wingman, which was true, but he simply wanted to take me out of the well I [O]. But I just wanted [O], anesthetized from existence until [O], and wasn’t ready for [O].
Just to make him stop, I joined him. Well, that’s actually what I told him, but something in me was secretly asking for [O].
We met at the all-time bar, our gang’s… even if that team had almost disolved already through age and compromises. I was on the low side, but that’s what John was there for, the tireless [O]. We had a few mixes and some [O]. By the time we left the pub I had already forgotten who I was, I was filled up with John’s energy, and horny with his [O] stories.
The events following were a bit [O] and I wouldn’t remember anything the day after. I [O] until the evening. What was my [O] when I woke up, actually, when I came back from the loo, and realized the excessive volume of the bed sheet: Mary, fast asleep… Oh my [O]

unfulfilled promises, some with somewhat of a hope to accomplish them…

unfulfilled promises… things that we sometimes say to be nice or sometimes we really believe in, we want them to happen. it is the latter case that ends up being a load in our shoulders, a maybe not too noticeable burden, that builds up with time or with the impossibility of the present, becoming relevant… at least when recalling…
considering that, along our short life we say much more than we do, we all end up carrying that hump… maybe it’s something natural and correct, maybe it’s like the hallway of life, where we put our doors, closed, half open or walked through… unfulfilled promises have this duality, of what will never be or what will be… stays in the middle of nowhere, in the back burner, waiting for life to extinguish and decide…

why am I talking about this? because a friend, that doesn’t speak spanish nor goes surfing too often, is working on an artistic project about unfulfilled promises, and she needs human material… and I, using the blogging powers you’ve granted me with (!) I summon you oh spirits readers to comment here (or by mail, if you prefer), anonimously or not, an unfulfilled promise… one will be enough. think, recall, write… I’ll be thankful of your support and, what’s more interesting, you’ll be part of an artistic experience, and I’d say even more: maybe it’s a relief and/or a push sharing the burden with the world…

on a ‘meme’ level, I’ll ask the oh so powerful web entities of the blogsphere to collaborate, personally and/or distributing this request from your space… I’ll spill half a dark irish pint in your honor! (I promise… the artist as well!)

PS1: the mosaic is a quick sample I made of the ongoing project, we’ll add final contents when it’s done… btw, feel free to illustrate your promises your own way, either with a simple comment, a picture of a hand-written note, a verse, a tatoo (ok, no need to exceed)
PS2: happy Paddy’s day… but be careful: if celebrating outside of Ireland, avoid that brew they tag as Guiness…

after doing the time lapse video (or 1814 moments [not translated]) I started another little experiment… not excessively elaborated (because of lack of time, or patience, in front of the slow laptop) but curious nevertheless…

it’s the definitive solution for those meetings where you have to see a thousand seven hundred and twenty nine pictures (and a half) of uncle Nicolas’ Torremolinos [tiny town of Spain] to Kamtchatka trip…

it’s  about infratemporal osmosis visual impregnation!

it’s about SPAAAAAAAACE LAAAAAAAAPSSSSEE APse Apse apsepse!!!

epileptics avoid this…

oh… images taken with my cameras (video and n82) since august 2007 to a few weeks ago…

oh… the music, from Camarón [Spanish musician, kinda known as the flamenco master]… a song that got me nicely surprised a few years ago, when I still didn’t know the author despite (or maybe because of) his popularity … so go on, surf the time [that's what the lyrics is about]!

and there’s an alternative version in my youtube user (loxa0)… both have the awful quality the tube provides… but not much personal detail needed anyway…

ok… for the ones that don’t know him… wiki it! Rube was a dude that invented absurdly complex machines to achieve a simple objective. There’s still enthusiam in creating those nowadays, there’s a japanese contest about it (those people really have cool, funny and creative contests!), and there’s a classic on computer gaming: The incredible machine, where you can build those machines virtually…  (oh, and some also do that virtual machines with Half-Life engine, taking advantadge of its realistic physics engine)

… anyway… what would a lever ask to a ball that hits it, making the stone roll and fall into a bucket of water, splashing a breaking paper that holds a tin can, that falls right where the ball will fit later? “what a chance, isn’t it?”… destiny or Rube-Goldberg? was it unavoidable that the tin can and the sphere joined their future? did the stone, the paper or the water know what their unavoidable “decisions” would mean?

is destiny an out of control, self-generated, dynamic and eternally moving Rube-Goldberg machine? hum… we could say the latter is a basic simple model, organized and with an objective… while the first is an everything, chaotic and without reason…

Kundera said somewhere that god left a computer, with the software for life, universe and everything turned on… he might have gone for a coffee or to buy cigarrettes and never got back… well… if we accept god as an entity of what can’t be explained and unconscious “source”, then ok… we have the engine of chaos with its eternal movement… and its complex universe to achieve little simple tasks (like the sun shining in the morning… or a child’s first steps)

[source]

where a equals this event, which happened in Grafton street this February (and I missed it, at least I have u-tub)…
b equals the high number of proud scots with kilt that I saw saturday for the 6 nations match due in Dublin
and c… hmmm… c c c… c would be like…
… my own mental alchemy that just got everything together… and brings me this proposal:
what if all the catalans in Dublin, at a certain time and in the same Grafton st. (or Stephen’s green or… ok, it’s open to discussion), had a walk with barretina [traditional catalan hat, check links below] for a few minutes…
ok, it’s what came to my mind… I’m willing to do one of those flashmob thingies… and, being here, I just pick up the catalan comunity and simbolize it in a funny way (dubliners won’t have a clue on what’s going on… and the more confusion the funnier… have you seen NY station?)
ok, so… other proposals are welcome (serious ones… we are serious about jokes here), but, if there’s no better option, I’ll set up this and link it to CAD:

date: March 29nd March 15th

time: 1400

briefing: 13:15 at temple bar’s square

place: Grafton st.

duration: 10mins (or up and down street walk, twice?)

actions: walking with the barretina on (hmmm… and a handshake when we meet another brother in barretina? or to everyone, as an introduction for catalan people?)

resources: barretina

on the last item, as you probably haven’t brought your barretina to this side of the world, each one makes its own with paper (charol, ‘maxé’, sandpaper, whatever… you can get ideas at O’Connell’s Eason, for example)… or cloth… a red patch and a black band… tied with tape, stitch or spits… guess no need for a diagram (an elipsis shape, cut by the middle and attached on the sides + long black rectangle glued on the base)

summon everybody, being 10 is fine, being 40 is even better! foreigners [i.e. non catalans] are welcome, but you’ll need some further info…
[Plan B: no resources, a long dancing chain of people]

PS: stay tuned for updates!

- Manelic standing by my side, his wife, Maria Rosa, sitting nearby.
- the waitress walks away, and I softly and jokingly hit Manelic as a punishment, as he was looking the wrong place [read: the hot waitress]
- “Hey, why did you hit me?”
- “as your wife didn’t notice, someone must apply divine punishment”
- “you think so? that she hasn’t seen me?”

[...]

- “so, the procedure is something like: 1) good looking girl goes by 2) Maria Rosa checks your movements/activity 3) you look the girl 4) arguing and/or fight later on… right?”
- “correct”
- “hum… but if you know you’re being watched and that you’ll be punished… why look other women… some sort of protest, demand or what?!?”
- “yes, that’s it, to claim (the right of every man to apreciate the art in movement of a woman’s body)”

… my hero… he didn’t come to work today… requiescat in pacem?

[source]

- Xai [me] at the supermarket, buy soap, cause it’s about to finish
- Oh, ohffer [sale... but like Oh-Offer] x product+dermoabrasive or something skin care handsoap stuff
- Xai on the way home, proud of the sale, without weird deals nor illegal issues
- Xai organizes and distributes the bought goods, oh, soap and handsoap, tied together through a strong plastic relationship
- Xai picks the first thing he sees to break the link… um… car keys, right on the table…

- Xai, metalic clink on the cheap LeroyMerlin [DIY chain] wood floor, dumb face (even more, dumb and dumber face), plastic wrap unharmed and half car key on the floor…
- Xai, realizing of the situation, half key in hand… other half on floor… just on a stupid thought, he’s without car now… as easy as that… man… the scene took 5 secs, the drama… as long as a japanese movie face shot…
… ouch…

Update: happy ending, the professional key maker solves the story of frustated passions making a copy (two, in fact, there will always be bad people using too strong petrol derivates with so called sales) in half an hour…

[source]

Update: that’s the (RF) key…

(to be continued?)

UPDATE: so it looks like I’m going on for now, as it brings a new concept for my spare time web surfing… more… proactive

Have to say, this blog thing reminds me of a youth movie (“Pump up the volume”), that came to represent this massive individual mediatization, but on radio, and resulting in a mix of voices moved through the ether… all wrapped with a marketing trick for youngsters: we are rebel, what great things we say, how cool we are!

[source]

so… without further ado… here we go!