viernes, 30 de octubre de 2009


After this Preface he gave me a particular Account of the Struldbruggs among them. He said they commonly acted like Mortals, till about thirty Years old, after which by degrees they grew melancholy and dejected, encreasing in both till they came to four-score. This he learned from their own Confession; for otherwise there not being above two or three of that Species born in an Age, they were too few to form a general Observation by. When they came to four-score Years, which is reckoned the Extremity of living in this Country, they had not only all the Follies and Infirmities of other old Men, but many more which arose from the dreadful Prospect of never dying. They were not only Opinionative, Peevish, Covetous, Morose, Vain, Talkative, but uncapable of Friendship, and dead to all natural Affection, which never descended below their Grand-children. Envy and impotent Desires are their prevailing Passions. But those Objects against which their Envy principally directed, are the Vices of the younger sort, and the Deaths of the old. By reflecting on the former, they find themselves cut off from all possibility of Pleasure; and whenever they see a Funeral, they lament and repine that others have gone to a Harbour of Rest, to which they themselves never can hope to arrive. They have no Remembrance of anything but what they learned and observed in their Youth and middle Age, and even that is very imperfect. And for the Truth or Particulars of any Fact, it is safer to depend on common Traditions than upon their best Recollections. The least miserable among them appear to be those who turn to Dotage, and entirely lose their Memories; these meet with more Pity and Assistance, because they want many bad Qualities which abound in others.

If a Struldbrugg happen to marry one of his own kind, the Marriage is dissolved of course by the Courtesy of the Kingdom, as soon as the younger of the two come to be four-score. For the Law thinks it a reasonable Indulgence, that those who are condemned without any Fault of their own to a perpetual Continuance in the World, should not have their Misery doubled by the Load of a Wife.

As soon as they have compleated the Term of eighty Years, they are look'd on as dead in Law; their Heirs immediately succeed to their Estates, only a small Pittance is reserved for their Support, and the poor ones are maintained at the publick Charge. After that Period they are held incapable of any Employment of Trust or Profit, they cannot purchase Lands or take Leases, neither are they allowed to be Witnesses in any Cause, either Civil or Criminal, not even for the Decision of Meers and Bounds.

At Ninety they lose their Teeth and Hair, they have at that age no Distinction of Taste, but eat and drink whatever they can get, without Relish or Appetite. The Diseases they were subject to still continuing without encreasing or diminishing. In talking they forgot the common Appellation of Things, and the Names of Persons, even of those who are their nearest Friends and Relations. For the same Reason they never can amuse themselves with reading, because their Memory will not serve to carry them from the beginning of a Sentence to the end; and by this Defect they are deprived of the only entertainment whereof they might otherwise be capable.

The Language of this Country being always upon the Flux, the Struldbruggs of one Age do not understand those of another, neither are they able after two hundred Years to hold any Conversation (farther than by a few general Words) with their Neighbours the Mortals; and thus they lye under the Disadvantage of living like Foreigners in their own Country.

This was the Account given me of the Struldbruggs, as near as I can remember. I afterwards saw five or six of different Ages, the youngest not above two hundred Years old, who were brought me at several Times by some of my Friends; but although they were told that I was a great Traveller, and had seen all the World, they had not the least Curiosity to ask me a Question; only desired I would give them Slumskudask, or a Token of Remembrance, which is a modest way of begging, to avoid the Law that strictly forbids it, because they are provided for by the Publick, although indeed with a very scanty Allowance.

They are despised and hated by all sort of People; when one of them is born, it is reckoned ominous, and their Birth is recorded very particularly; so that you may know their Age by consulting the Registry, which however hath not been kept above a thousand Years past, or at least hath been destroyed by Time or publick Disturbances. But the usual way of computing how old they are is by asking them what Kings or great Persons they can remember, and then consulting History, for infallibly the last Prince, in their Mind, did not begin his Reign after they were four-score Years old.

They were the most mortifying Sight I ever beheld, and the Women more horrible than the Men. Besides the usual Deformities in extreme old age, they acquired an additional Ghastliness in Proportion to their Number of Years, which is not to be described, and among half a Dozen I soon distinguished which was the eldest, although there were not above a Century or two between them.

The Reader will easily believe, that from what I had heard and seen, my keen Appetite for Perpetuity of Life was much abated. I grew heartily ashamed of the pleasing Visions I had formed, and thought no Tyrant could invent a Death into which I would not run with Pleasure from such a Life. The King heard of all that had passed between me and my Friends upon this Occasion, and rallied me very pleasantly, wishing I would send a couple of Struldbruggs to my own Country, to arm our People against the Fear of Death; but this it seems is forbidden by the fundamental Laws of the Kingdom, or else I should have been well content with the Trouble and Expense of transporting them.

I could not but agree that the Laws of this Kingdom relating to the Struldbruggs, were founded upon the strongest Reasons, and such as any other Country would be under the Necessity of enacting in the like Circumstances. Otherwise, as Avarice is the necessary Consequent of old Age, those Immortals would in Time become Proprietors of the whole Nation, and engross the Civil Power, which, for want of Abilities to manage, must End in the Ruin of the Publick.

Extracto do capítulo X do Libro III dos Gulliver's Travels, de Jonathan Swift.

jueves, 29 de octubre de 2009

Iso, glosas.

Parafraseando ao Leo no título, e despois dunha conversa co Iago quero facer unha enquisa filologada con dous puntos:

Un: como lle chamades á pranta que en galego RAG é coñecida como fieito.

Dous: como diríades o adxectivo derivado do verbo laiar.

Tres: de onde sodes? o voso galego viuse afectado pola estadía noutra zona?

martes, 27 de octubre de 2009

Deathlists, 2º impacto

Entrada breve para dicir que hoxe morreu a Condesa de Fenosa, polo que Oink! anota o seu segundo punto.

Durante o próximo mes sairán as bases do Morte_e_destrución'10.


sábado, 17 de octubre de 2009

Unha historia contada noutra Lingua...


Lingoa proletaria do meu pobo,

eu fáloa porque sí, porque me gosta,

porque me peta e quero e dame a gaña;

porque me sai de dentro, alá do fondo

dunha tristura aceda que me abrangue

ao ver tantos patufos desleigados,

pequenos mequetrefes sin raíces

que ao pór a garabata xa nan saben

afirmarse no amor dos devanceiros,

falar a fala nai,

a fala dos abós que temos mortos,

e ser, co rostro erguido,

mariñeiros, labregos do lingoaxe,

remo i arado, proa e rella sempre.

Eu fáloa porque sí, porque me gosta

e quero estar cos meus, coa xente miña,

perto dos homes bos que sofren longo

unha historia contada noutra lingoa.

Non falo pra os soberbios,

non falo pra os ruis e poderosos,

non falo pra os finchados,

non falo pra os valeiros,

non falo pra os estúpidos,

que falo pra os que agoantan rexamente

mentiras e inxusticias de cotío;

pra os que súan e choran

un pranto cotidián de volvoretas,

de lume e vento sobre os ollos núos.

Eu non podo arredar as miñas verbas

de tódolos que sofren neste mundo.

E ti vives no mundo, terra miña,

berce da miña estirpe,

Galicia, dóce mágoa das Españas,

deitada rente ao mar, ise camiño...

Vémonos mañá en Compostela.

domingo, 11 de octubre de 2009


"Son o home máis perseguido pola xudicatura de todos os tempos, en toda a historia da humanidade, en todo o mundo, porque fun sometido a máis de 2500 xuízos e teño a sorte (tendo traballado ben no pasado e acumulado unha riqueza importante) de ter sido quen de gastar máis de 200 millóns de € en conselleiros e XUICES, perdón, en conselleiros e avogados"

Silvio Berlusconi (Home máis perseguido da historia e mártir)

miércoles, 7 de octubre de 2009

A ciencia galega tampouco necesita tesoiras

Nesta semana levase a cabo unha iniciativa impulsada polo blogger Aldea Irreductible denunciando que a maior redución nos orzamentos do estado recae no Ministerio de Ciencia.

Este redución é, obviamente, un sinsentido. Se algo lles debería ter ensinado a recente crise económica aos señores gobernantes, empresarios e especuladores é a absoluta necedade de pretender cimentar un crecemento económico nos alicerces da construción. A decembro de 2005 (datos máis recentes, que coa crise seguro que se viron aumentados) había 3.350.000 vivendas vacías no conxunto do Estado. A pesar diso, síguese construíndo, síguese gastando diñeiro na construción, e síguese dando diñeiro a un ministerio, o de vivenda, cuxas competencias teóricas están transferidas ás CC.AA. Por que se mantén este gasto? Supoño que en boa medida pola incapacidade do goberno de recolocar estes traballadores, e que por iso o goberno aprobou o tan famoso Plan-E. Mais iso, que non se enganen os gobernantes, non son máis que remendos.

Un sistema económico serio non pode estar baseado no ladrillo. Deberá estar baseado na innovación, na investigación, no desenvolvemento tecnolóxico e, agora, co cambio climático, na industria non contaminante ou incluso paliadora da contaminación.
Mentres outros gobernos reaccionan pagando plans de recolocación de obreiros da construción a obreiros da industria das eólicas ou das solares, por exemplo, o que permite dunha soa vez baixar o paro, baixar a importancia da construción na economía e evitar o uso de combustibles fósiles para a produción de enerxia... o goberno español recorta un 13'57% o orzamento do CSIC. Non hai innovación, non hai investigación... o único que hai son ganas de volver tropezar coa mesma pedra do crecemento económico especulativo e altamente contaminante.

Quen me teña lido o blogue saberá do meu posicionamento político-económico roxo-verde. Creo que a crise económica era unha oportunidade para que o goberno do estado abrise os ollos e puidese adoptar unha política decidida de crecemento económico produtivo e de superación das industrias contaminantes... e non fixo nin unha cousa nin outra. Unha oportunidade perdida. Outra máis.

Porén, moito peor é a situación da ciencia galega. Cun goberno galego que predica austeridade, os investigadores galegos deberían comezar a aforrar. A situación dos investigadores galegos, salvo excepcións, é penosa. Pasan máis tempo dedicados á burocracia que á investigación, tentando asegurar os poucos cartos do seu grupiño de investigación, e a facer curriculum antes que a descubrir algo novidoso.

Se nos centramos na financiación, hai que ter en conta que a investigación galega fóra das Universidades é mínima, e que a Consellería de Educación ten ás Universidades afogadas económicamente mentres que destina os cartos do seu departamento a loitar contra unha suposta imposición lingüística inexistente, nun exercicio da maior paranoia esquizofrenoide do centralismo galegófobo que lles levará a escoitar a voz da rúa por segunda vez o vindeiro día 18. Ao mesmo tempo, a Xunta gasta billóns en obras faraónicas sen sentido como a cidade da cultura e fomenta a división localista facendo que os alcaldes se pelexen por aeroportos e facultades de medicina.

Os galegos necesitamos unha capacidade investigadora decente de cara a abandonar os modelos económicos insostibles, especulativos e perniciosos para o medio. Non máis hidroeléctricas no Sil, non máis piscifactorías en Touriñán, non máis eólicas especulativas: diñeiro para investigación e desenvolvemento, economía verde, produtiva, e que revirta nos galegos facendo avanzar á sociedade.

Menos formigón e máis microscopios.

sábado, 3 de octubre de 2009


Hoxe puiden sentir un deses placeres dos sentidos que probablemente non valoramos o suficiente. Foi o olor, o placer para o olfato, o máis esquecido dos sentidos, que supón a primeira choiva caída despois do verán. Ese olor que inaugura o outono e que augura novas sensacións, magostos, caída das follas...

Este olor tan característico ten nome: chámase petricor, do grego Petros (pedra) e Ikhor (o fluído que corre a través das venas dos deuses).

O petricor fórmase a partir de aceites vexetais exudados polas plantas durante os períodos de sequía, que quedan pegados ás rochas e só se liberan ao aire coa chegada das primeiras choivas despois do verán.
Esta web apoia á iniciativa dun dominio galego propio (.gal) en Internet