jueves, 5 de septiembre de 2019

LETTER TO A BLUEBIRD AND EMPTY JOURNALIST. cuba haiti

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LETTER TO A BLUEBIRD AND EMPTY JOURNALIST.

LETTER TO A BLUEBIRD AND EMPTY JOURNALIST.

      Any coincidence with a certain journalist is pure coincidence. Who does not know who was François Mauriac Novel prize of literature there 'for the 50' and who was Catholic, he wrote well but too boring and incoherent:

    At first, the universe was only dark matter but God - which is eternal - a giant gas was sent in its fight with Satan - and created the galaxies and nebulae, including solar system with the earth.

   My aunt Figuera, a good-sized Galician, put a candle in the bathtub on the anniversary of each deceased relative. We children learned the date of each death of the ancestors, because that day we did not bathe and we smelled fried Hot dog all day.
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   My grandmother, the river Guaso, grew up and brought her the house - with grandfather and everything - and she did not spill a tear.

   Communism is an anthropological aberration - said John Paul II in his encyclical Renum Nubaron.

   I do not know if they remember the autobiography of Ricardo Arenas where a Cuban official writer sits on a light bulb. They had to operate and everything. He also does the same but he could not get it out because of that at night it short-circuits and the backlight is illuminated like a firefly.

CARTA A UN PERIODISTA RUISEÑOR Y HUECO

 CARTA A UN PERIODISTA RUISEÑOR Y HUECO.

      Cualquier coincidencia con cierto periodista es pura casualidad. Que no sabe quién fue     François Mauriac premio Novel  de literatura allá ‘por los 50’ y que era católico, escribía bien pero demasiado aburrido e incoherente:  

    Al principio el universo era solo materia oscura pero a Dios- que es eterno- se mandó un gigantesco gas en su lucha con Satán- y se crearon las galaxias y nebulosas, entre ellos sistema solar con la tierra.

   Mi tía Figuera, gallega de buena cepa, le ponía una vela en la bañera en el aniversario de cada familiar fallecido. Nosotros los  niños nos aprendimos la fecha  de cada muerto de los ancestros, pues ese día no nos bañábamos y olíamos a chorizo  frito todo el  día.
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   A mi abuela el río  Guaso crecido le llevó la casa- con abuelo y todo- y no derramó ni una lagrima.

   El comunismo es una aberración antropológica- lo dijo Juan Pablo II en su encíclica Renum Robaron.


   No sé si recuerdan  la autobiografía de Ricardo Arenas donde un escritor oficialista cubano se sienta sobre una bombilla. Lo tuvieron que operar y todo. Este también hace lo mismo pero no pudieron sacársela por eso por las noches hace cortocircuito y el trasero se le alumbra  como a una luciérnaga. 

FROM EDGE. HAITIAN PAINTED WHITE.

Front edge HAITIAN PAINTED WHITE.
Orlando Vicente Álvarez.

    When I was a young doctor in the province of Guantánamo. They sent me to San Antonio del Sur, a municipality adjoining the Caribbean Sea. When a boat full of Haitians ran aground on the reefs, they sent me with an expert assistant in Epidemiology.
    I was not allowed to touch them just examine them in the eye of a good player.There were about 50 Haitians going to Miami. We went down the cliff and forced them to undress - men, women and children - and a fumigator sprayed them with white milk - Difterez - from head to toe.
     They painted them white. The PCC authorities threw banana bouquets from above as if they were infected or were going to eat us alive. Then they forced us to collect all indications of their presence: cans, threadbare clothes and all traces of them and burned them.
   That was communist solidarity. Then came an older Cuban ship and towed them to the high seas to continue on their way. And they forced us to keep the secret. That's why I sometimes say that I'm not Cuban: I'm Haitian.

http://orlandoescritorynovelista.blogspot.com.uy/

viernes, 20 de abril de 2018


Ballerina of a single foot: maternity.

SINGLE FOOTBALL: MATERNITY.
DR Orlando Vicente Álvarez

Last year, when I was in Buenos Aires, I met an old  girl friend.
-You still beautiful. How old are you?
-I'm close to forty. They do not hire me anymore. I'm losing flexibility.
- And a son, is it already when menopause arrives?
- I do not want to have children.
But how. She retained the beauty of early youth, fresh skin, long legs, curly hair down her back ...
-You are still in time for a baby. Your body was prepared millions of years ago for the occasion. Only business executives feel fulfilled without a child and then adopt or remain alone in their old age, surrounded by brothers and nephews who only seek the inheritance.
But you are poor now. You can not freeze your eggs for later. Nor can you adopt.
Nature or God Himself prepared the body of the woman to conceive. The maternal womb will miss a baby's body. The nipples of your breasts yearn for the tender lips of a creature. Your body will bend forward making a cave to cradle the baby and you, all of you, will receive the gift of happiness of having a baby. The oxytocin will work your whole body, your brain and you will be prepared to be a mother.
I had a patient with Down syndrome. The parents told me that it was a blessing from God because of the love they gave her was the love they received. I carried it on my knees and it moved me and a tear rolled down my cheeks.
God told Abram to offer his only son as a burnt offering but it was only to test his faith and he told him: your offspring will be like the stars of the sky or the sand of the beaches.
Children are a blessing from God or from Evolution. Even lesbian couples are inseminated by having one and even gays claim a belly a substitute or adopt.
A few days ago on the beach I saw in the sand playing a family of poor soccer, even the mother played, and seemed so happy that the millionaire Argentines and Brazilians behind their litmus glasses looked at them with envy. They did not want to have children so as not to deform their bodies.
My dear friend listened to all my harangue and said nothing.
It would be like a ballerina with a single foot turning around itself and giving little jumps without reaching anything.
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