Thursday, 16 March 2017


As an undergraduate at Cornell I was a chemistry major because my brother was a big-shot chemist. Critics feel that a person cannot be a serious artist and also have had a technical education, which I had. I know that customarily English departments in universities, without knowing what they’re doing, teach dread of the engineering department, the physics department, and the chemistry department. And this fear, I think, is carried over into criticism. Most of our critics are products of English departments and are very suspicious of anyone who takes an interest in technology. So, anyway, I was a chemistry major, but I’m always winding up as a teacher in English departments, so I’ve brought scientific thinking to literature. There’s been very little gratitude for this.

Kurt says he studied Chemistry because his brother was already a big-shot chemist. This is a big deal. I don´t know whether eldest brothers are aware of their responsibility when they choose a degree. I am not sure if they know how they can influence on their siblings. How many soft, but genuine vocations have been destroyed by the big brothers influence?
Regarding the fear mentioned in the text, we have said several times that this dread is reciprocal between scientists and men of letters and that we try to make this dread as soft as possible. It is been accepted that the man of letters thinks all scientists are brutes and, on the other hand, scientists think men of letters are damsels. This is unbearable.
With thi­s text we want to express our gratitude to Kurt Vonnegut for the incorporation of the scientific thought to literature, even if we don´t believe in this thought or scientific method so much.
(looking at Vonnegut’s picture, he looks like Fogwill, the way that Cortazar believed that Baudelaire and Poe were actually the same person)

Thursday, 2 March 2017


Well it's, yes of course that's what happens isn't it, he said as though again called on to explain, pursuing it as he had the house itself, welcoming facts proof against fine phrases that didn't mean anything with —all those glorious colours the leaves turn when the chlorophyll breaks down in the fall, when the proteins that are tied to the chlorophyll molecules break down into their amino acids that go down into the stems and the roots. That may be what happens to people when they get old too, these proteins breaking down faster than they can be replaced and then, yes well and then of course, since proteins are the essential elements in all living cells the whole system begins to disinteg..

It seems there are similarities between the animal and the vegetal aging, apart from the exchangable adjetives: glum, overripe… whithered! much harder.
Insane, whithered or dead” were the three possibilities, terrible possibilities, for women, according to a Mexican poet.
The Fisiology assesor of this blog told me that the text says the truth about the chlorophyll, but not so much about the animal proteins, from a scientific view. Maybe you, like I, have the feeling that the text should have more commas, I guess the author has made it in this way on purpose.

Monday, 27 February 2017


In 1906, the anatomist Robert Bennett Bean claimed that the corpus callosum—the neural fibers that bind the two halves of the brain together—were bigger in men than in women and hypothesized that the “exceptional size of the corpus callosum may mean exceptional intellectual activity.” Big thoughts = Big CC.

The corpus callosum is a controversial topic, not only from a feminist point of view. Back in those days, some scientists also tried to find differences between the corpus callosum of several races. Nowadays nobody thinks this is true. For me, it is not only diffcult to believe those differences exist, but also that this disgusting cauliflower is, as some claim, able to do anything except getting to know itself. This last thing would be, according to David Hubel, “like getting up from the floor by pulling up your own shoelaces”

Monday, 20 February 2017


One of those disgraces best dealt with by putting off thinking about it. Once you’d moved on in time a little bit—making an analogy here between time and distance, though I’m not sure you can—it would be back in the past and therefore smaller. The law of perspective, as in Jon Nagy’s Television Art Book. Like an A-bomb blast, which seared you less the farther away you stood, in a featureless Jon Nagy landscape. I’m not explaining this right.

At the end he doesn´t explain it properly, like he admits, but I like the analogy. If in Modern Physics you can talk about the continuous spacetime, you can also talk about the spacetime perspective. When you do something embarrasing you don´t need to run away, it is enough to stay motionless and think (like in The King´s Ring tale): “this too shall pass”. The people who are able to discern how they will laugh in the future at the failure occured in the present, can be very happy

Monday, 13 February 2017


Once started, the music swept along of its own momentum, carrying Bunny with it. He was helpless. So was Robert and so was his mother. The only opposition came from the room itself. What the green walls threw back, the fire caught at and sent up the chimney. What the fire could not reach, the ringed candelabrum turned nervously into light, ring upon ring.

Sonic waves are tridimensional waves that propagate from their source. Its area would be the area of a sphere with radius R, where R is the distance to the sonic source. According to Huygens Principle, each obstacle that the waves face should become a secondary source of spheric waves, similar to the ones described by William Maxwell in this room. With the candelabrum, there is a more complicated interaction between light and sonic waves.

Monday, 30 January 2017


I, therefore, invite you to consider, as a suggestive analogy, the action which takes place when a bit of finely filiated platinum is introduced into a chamber containing oxygen and sulphur dioxide.
The analogy was that of the catalyst. When the two gases previously mentioned are mixed in the presence of a filament of platinum, they form sulphurous acid. This combination takes place only if the platinum is present; nevertheless the newly formed acid contains no trace of platinum, and the platinum itself is apparently unaffected; has remained inert, neutral, and unchanged. The mind of the poet is the shred of platinum. It may partly or exclusively operate upon the experience of the man himself; but, the more perfect the artist, the more completely separate in him will be the man who suffers and the mind which creates; the more perfectly will the mind digest and transmute the passions which are its material. 

The text it self explains the analogy very well, there is not much one could add. The catalysts, indeed, remain intact at the end of the reaction; they only make it possible for the reaction to runs in a more favorable, faster way..
There is another quote by Eliot about poets that I like. He said about bad poets: In fact, the bad poet is usually unconscious where he ought to be conscious, and conscious where he ought to be unconscious”. I used this sentence, conversely, to praise the last Kiko Veneno albums

Wednesday, 25 January 2017


There was much ado about this in the literary world. We decided to give a banquet to tribute Araquistain so as to collect signatures for supporting him. My ultraist friends were aware that I was acquaintance with Cajal from the Natural History Museum, where I would prepare platelets for his microscope in the Entomology section. So, they asked me to get his signature, which would have been the most prestigious of all. So, I did . But Cajal, very old at that time, refused to sign it. He claimed the excuse that the newspaper ABC, where the Audacious Sir collaborated regularly, was going to publish his own memoirs and he was afraid that by signing that, the newspaper terminated the contract.
Although for different reasons, I do always refuse to sign the requests I am given. The sheets of signatures are nothing but a way to calm down your conscience. I know my attitude is arguable. That is why if something happens to me, if I end up in jail, for example, or I disappear, I beg nobody to sign for me.

It´s not the first time that Cajal has appeared in this blog. In the first one, Cajal was told off by Emilia Pardo Bazán, and that must have been serious business.
I had no idea of this collaboration between Buñuel and Cajal before reading this book and it´s not the only amazing thing I´ve discovered. I´ve also found out that Buñuel was about to kill Gala and also that John Wayne led a supporting association for Franco.
But the most practical information of the text is the one dealing with collecting signatures. I think I´m going to use it the next time a girl from an NGO comes up to me and tells me: do you have a second? I´ll say no moving my finger, while speeding up my pace and saying: “I know my attitude is arguable”