The "jungle" I walk past in my daily commute.             As I start my five-minute walk back home, countless thoughts flourish amid fears of a shrinking end-of-month budget. The light rain falling this evening brings the gentle music one needs to feel happy or sorrowful. Umbrella up, I leap down the watered street, my body reflected on the asphalt mirror like a character from a film noir: Humphrey Bogart, or so. All it lacks is the red-lipped lady looking sneakily from a side porch. Life’s a movie, then; you play your part, sad or thrilling, giving up on a happy ending.          Hiking’s cheap, flying’s much better. So many places to see, you can’t help remembering that song, “So Far Away from Me.” The year was 1979, maybe a little earlier. People rallied in the streets for democracy; there were still military men everywhere, overseeing us, lecturing us on whatever they wished or thought they should. We str...

           Now that we’re heading to a new election, many friends have complained that this country isn’t moving fast enough, that it has been too lazy, inconsistent, and hesitant in its march towards backwardness. This way, they say, we will never get what we have been promised. One century ago, poet Oswald de Andrade claimed that anthropophagy was the way we should undertake to reach civilization right away, but we have evolved since: now autophagy is the thing, our real style. Why should we worry about this national foolishness if we can achieve it much faster than politicians, economists, and the media have suggested?          Crisis is all around; let’s pump up our economic figures! It could just be more chaotic and unplanned than before, but let’s rest in peace. What do these people want? Millions and millions of polluting, noisy, individualistic, disgusting cars, highways, factories, second-rate...

(Imagem: youtube.com)             Se iba Pantaleón al trabajo, cuando se le ocurió de pasar a ver Arnold, no el Scwarzenegger pero sí Jimenes, viejo amigo, propietario de una tienda en la Guernica con la Rambla, justo en la esquina. Lo encontró charlando con la dependienta, una chica de ojos oscuros profundos. Era la semana muerta del comercio, los clientes se habían ido de chopp a la playa, Arnold podia hacer lo que quisiera.             - He pasado por los escombros. ¿A quién los has vendido?             - A los hermanos Arajuès. Van a pagarnos despuès del diez.             Y Arnold cometió el acto fatal:             - Te presento la señorita Mallagana, mi dependienta.    ...

(Imagem: www.palmyre-equimage.blogspot.com)              Emmanuel P. Taitre arrive à la boulangerie:             - Deux saucisses du Rhin pour mon chien et un camembert pour ma souris.             - Vous vous moquez de moi, monsieur, répond une voix féminine de derrière le comptoir.             - Pas du tout. Je suis Jesus Emmanuel P. Taitre, je suis venu au monde pour désennuyer.             - “De” quoi?             - C’est pas “D”, c’est “P”, comme “perroquet”.             - Vous êtes fou, monsieur!             - Je m’en doutais. C’est où, l’hippod...