We were told on Friday that we should attend something important, a workshop, on Monday.
Blogs
Apparently this quote, contrary to what I was told when it was included in the Financial Crimes, is genuine:
‘One night, probably in 1880, John Swinton, then the preeminent New York journalist, was the guest of honour at a banquet given him by the leaders of his craft. Someone who knew neither the press nor Swinton offered a toast to the independent press. Swinton outraged his colleagues by replying:
“There is no such thing, at this date of the world’s history, in America, as an independent press. You know it and I know it.
Christians
I have finally found a Christian group in this anarchist mare-magnum…
More news
It’s getting to be a bit of a pain; all the media, tv, radio and newspapers, flooded with the death of a man who, according to one of the nuns at my catholic school, was so Christian and as catholic as I.
News
The Pope has died, Spanish national television announces, at 21,37 today. I look at the clock on the wall and it is 10 past 10. What have then been doing all this time then, I wonder?
Wet soil
When I was little, I only needed to go to the balcony once it had stopped raining to perceive an intense scent of wet soil. But there is no soil any longer. They have asphalted it all, or “developed”, as the construction of blocks of concrete, cement and brick -in that order of importance- is now called.
Friday
Like in smaller towns, men sit at the very end of the church. The women scatter about in the reminder of the church – women have always outnumbered men in churches.
Thursday
In the church, the brothers of the brotherhood, and a sister – one single woman in the place of the privileged, there, next to the priest, to a side of the altar, as it is suitable for the most ever exemplary citizens. It is surely a coincidence that they are all owners of companies or councillors.
Wednesday
The most important celebration for the Christians begins this week. We have come to a town that, unbeknown to its inhabitants, is in the very deep heart of old Castilla, or Castille (the name means “land of castles”). I think I can find more soil, mud and grass in London that here, but people call this place is called town, or village, even though some ancient king gave it the title of city.
Gaite
It is definitely not bad, the library at my university. I took a few books last Friday, and as I passed the foreign languages section I could not resist getting a classic. This time it was “El cuarto de atrás”, by Carmen Martín Gaite (a month ago it was “Si te dicen que caí”, by Juan Marsé).
