LUN 15.05.2006
16:21 | Un joven murió luego de ser atropellado en Palermo

Un joven de 18 años, identificado como Manuel Lifchinsky, falleció tras ser atropellado en inmediaciones del monumento de los españoles. El hecho ocurrió el domingo a la madrugada, aunque la muerte del jóven se produjo en las últimas horas, luego de haber sido derivado al Hospital Fernández.

Según se denunció, un Volkswagen Polo Classic de color gris se subió a la vereda frente al monumento de los españoles y se llevó por delante a tres jóvenes que se disponían a cruzar la calle.

Además de Lifchinsky, quien quedó atrapado entre las ruedas del vehículo, resultaron heridos otros dos jóvenes, identificados como Nicolás Gabriel Dieguez y Matías Serrano Guillot.

(Fuente: Télam)

Queremos llevarle tranquilidad a la población: la casa esta en orden!

....Mommy...are they commin´to get me?

En los tiempos que corren tener un amigo que "sepa de computación" es algo tan trascendente como tener un amigo comisario o un amigo médico.

Y la posteo enterea porque la quiero tener aca, porque me parece genial y porque no puedo parar de cantarla. Y además porque dieron un show de putamadre el sábado (la critica esta en el reviewer, con más tiempo haré el link).
Espero que se la aprendan de memoria como La Marcha de San Lorenzo

LOSING MY EDGE - LCD SOUNDSYSTEM

Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from France and from London.
But I was there.

I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the Internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.

To all the kids in Tokyo and Berlin.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties.

But I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge, but I was there.
I was there.
But I was there.

I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1974 at the first Suicide practices in a loft in New York City.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Daft Punk to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.

I used to work in the record store.
I had everything before anyone.
I was there in the Paradise Garage DJ booth with Larry Levan.
I was there in Jamaica during the great sound clashes.
I woke up naked on the beach in Ibiza in 1988.

But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.

I'm losing my edge.

I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody. Every great song by the Beach Boys. All the underground hits. All the Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra record on German import. I heard that you have a white label of every seminal Detroit techno hit - 1985, '86, '87. I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.

I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your computer out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.

I hear that you and your band have sold your guitars and bought turntables.
I hear that you and your band have sold your turntables and bought guitars.

I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.

But have you seen my records? This Heat, Pere Ubu, Outsiders, Nation of Ulysses, Mars, The Trojans, The Black Dice, Todd Terry, the Germs, Section 25, Althea and Donna, Sexual Harrassment, a-ha, Pere Ubu, Dorothy Ashby, PIL, the Fania All-Stars, the Bar-Kays, the Human League, the Normal, Lou Reed, Scott Walker, Monks, Niagra,

Joy Division, Lower 48, the Association, Sun Ra,
Scientists, Royal Trux, 10cc,

Eric B. and Rakim, Index, Basic Channel, Soulsonic Force ("just hit me"!), Juan Atkins, David Axelrod, Electric Prunes, Gil! Scott! Heron!, the Slits, Faust, Mantronix, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, the Swans, the Soft Cell, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.

You don't know what you really want. (x15)

Probablemente, la diferencia que hay entre los Beatles y los Beach Boys sea la misma que hay entre ingleses y yanquis.

Serán los blogs -para esta generación- lo que otrora fueron las canchas de paddle, los parripollos y los maxikioscos?

Sres ejecutivos de cuenta Nike Futbol Argentina:
Tengan a bien considerar que su campaña JOGA TV puede no caer del todo simpática en el público futbolero nacional. Sobretodo cuando sus comerciales nos muestran como se divierten los brasileños jugando a la pelotita o como un inglesito se cree Higuita del 90 y se hace el loco ponehuevos.
Después cuando el combinado de José Nestor quede eliminado en octavos no se muestren sorprendidos por la quema salvaje de su tan coqueta gráfica que cuelga frente al Obelisco.
Muchas Gracias



Y ya que estamos: Ursula Vargués estuvo siempre tan buena y tan ácida? Creo que me estoy enamorando.

Cuando niño, existía un juego de mesa llamado MEMOTEST al cual yo solía jugar mucho. La gracia consistía en mezclar las fichas, ponerlas boca abajo y tratar de recordar dónde habían quedado ubicadas las parejas (las fichas venían de a pares de dibujos iguales). Realmente la tenía atada con este juego y con precisión apabullaba a mis contrincantes adultos en esto de tener memoria para las cosas. Tanto era asi que mi abuela sentenció varias veces: "vos de grande te vas a poder acordar de todo!"

A pocos días de cumplir 26, se me hace dificil saber si la cita con el dentista era mañana o dentro de 15 días, si la factura del celular ya la pagué o si esa historía de problemas en el trabajo me la contó mi primera novia o la última chica que me curtí. (CUR-TÍ... cuántos años tengo?! por dios...)

A veces está bueno ver como se ven a si mismos en otras sociedades. Estó me lo mando mi amigo Nico a colación de su proximo viaje por estas tierras. Se que es un poco largo, pero si yo pude (que soy un disperso total), bien vale la pena el esfuerzo. Que lo disfruten.

(Este es un post de un árabe exiliado en Inglaterra. Lo copio de su blog: http://muttawa.blogspot.com/)

The Work Ethic
When God created Saudi Arabia, he also presented us with three gifts:
- The Holy Mosques at Makkah and Madinah, for our spiritual needs
- The Oilfields, for our material needs
- The Indian Subcontinent, so that we had people to sweep out the former and pump out the latter.
Perhaps as a result of this, we have developed certain fixed ideas about what we will and will not do for a career. Generally, we want to work in:
- the Armed Forces, Police, or Security services. However, you need to be in "the right tribes" to get these jobs.
- Saudi Airlines. As pilots, naturally. Egyptians (men and women) usually work as the cabin staff.
- Banks. (Nice clerical jobs)
- Civil Service (ditto)
- University or School. (teachers are very revered in Islam)
- Mosques (Imams ditto)
- Other professions, or as "Managers". But not salesmen, that's for the pushy Lebanese.
(As an aside, my own profession fits somewhere in the above. But if you think I am being smug and superior, I will point out that while at College I made extra money as a Tyre Mechanic. I actually became quite nifty with the tyre lever (both manual and pneumatic), valve key and "spider". Something that has stood me in good stead on two occasions when getting a flat tyre on a desert road. With a hot and grumpy family being being broiled in temperatures of 130 plus, it is a time for rapid personal action rather than trying to call someone out via a dodgy cellphone connection in the middle of prayer time.)
Anyway, the corollary of these jobs that we will do, is those jobs that we won't do. Usually involving touching things other than guns, airplane joysticks, books, pens or computers.
Now for a long time we have had this program of Saudization, involving taking over certain jobs from the expatriates, so that we become less dependent on foreign labor as the oil gradually runs out. The trouble is, decades of foreign labor means that we associate certain jobs with our darker-skinned brethren, and no self-respecting Saudi is going to do one of those jobs, ever. Like the picture above, the Saudi walks proud, the Indian keeps his eyes on the ground 'cos that's what he's sweeping. And only one of them would like to swap roles.
But Saudization is not catching on, and we're having to backtrack.
Saudization Quotas Eased for Some Job Categories
Labor Minister Ghazi Al-Gosaibi announced yesterday that his ministry was reducing the Saudization rates for certain categories of jobs from 30 to 10 percent after noticing that Saudis rarely apply for such jobs.
So the Labor Ministry has finally "noticed that" Saudis do not like to touch flour, cloth, metal, wood....
"The decision covers jobs at bakeries, tailoring shops, blacksmithy, carpentry, aluminum works, mechanical works, auto workshops, laundries, farms, agricultural and animal projects, land transport, driving trailer trucks and other heavy vehicles, gas stations, pharmacies and optical centers,”
......dirty clothes, animals, animal waste, steering wheels (except their own), gasoline.....
But, as always, there is an exception....
However, the minister insisted that administrative, financial and receptionist jobs at the above workplaces must be filled by Saudis.
Of course! We'll let them do the nice clean jobs! And can you imagine a male Saudi Receptionist? Or a male Saudi Secretary? I don't need to imagine them, I've actually met them, every company has them, but don't get me going on that subject!
So what are we to do with our fastidious and unemployed youth? This is where nice liberal Alhamedi becomes horrible arch-conservative Alhamedi. Because while I believe in democracy and human rights and all that, I don't believe in social security payments to lazy youth who spend all day in bed or watching TV or drinking coffee rather than go out and get some job, any job, that will earn some money for them and for the economy. And I'm surprised that the most pious country in the world can allow at least 25% of its males to live the life of pimps, their "b*tches" being those oil pumps that work tirelessly for them, night and day. So I would cease any payments to them, and their families, until they were starved into going out and get that job. But then, they'd probably rather die of hunger than pick up that Indian's broom.
But the Labor Ministry disagrees. Instead, we import more foreign labor and reduce those quotas. Then we'll whine because the foreigners have the temerity to send their earnings back home and spoil our balance of payments.
So what we do instead is to create more nice government jobs. And where better than in the Passport Department? Because you need a passport to leave the country, and enter it, and an exit / re-entry visa, then a work visa if you're a foreign worker, then visas for your relatives to come and visit, and a visa to nip across to Bahrain, and a visa for Hajj............We can create visas to celebrate every occasion, and they all need clerks to process them. But no Indians need apply. Even the ones with degrees.
So what happened when we created 500 new clerical government vacancies?
10,000 Turn Up for 500 Job Vacancies


An unexpectedly huge crowd of applicants turned up in Riyadh on Wednesday when 500 job vacancies were announced....The applicants, who came from across the Kingdom, had begun to converge in front of the department and in nearby streets since Tuesday morning. Many of them had been sleeping on the sidewalks or in their cars....the youths with no apparent reason at all grew impatient and started to shout and heckle, disregarding instructions to queue up quietly before the counters.

Ah, yes, "queues". Sometimes known as "lines". Like Christianity, something that we are aware of, but do not believe in. There is no such word as "queue" in our language. Why should there be? What is there in the desert to queue for - a McDonalds counter or a portable lavatory?

The Four Rules of Saudi Queueing.

1. Queue is a foreign word, for foreigners. Saudis do not need to queue. If you see a line of people, that indicates that there is something desirable at the front, and it is waiting for you, so just go and get it.

2. If the line is from the Indian subcontinent, they will not dare to stop you from going to the front. Indeed they will be grateful, in their quiet and humble way, that you have honored their line with your presence.

3. If the line contains Westerners, they may object to your going to the front. Affect not to understand their unrefined languages. If some smartass has a smattering of Arabic, pull a face that suggests you can't make head or tail of his silly accent. However if there are no other Saudis around, be careful, as some of them can become extremely threatening and physical. The men can be scary as well.

4. If you meet another Saudi at the head of the queue, precedence goes to the better family or tribe. Unless one of you has a relation behind the window or whatever it is you are queueing for. However if a Bedu from out of the desert turns up, let him go first, because everyone expects him to be pig-ignorant and not understand queues and you just can't be assed trying to explain it to him, and anyway he can't read so he's probably come to the wrong place and he'll bugger off soon enough as it is.

However the problem arises when there are 10, 000 Saudis, and no other nationalities, all after the same thing, and having no word to encapsulate the notion of "queue".

They pushed and kicked, knocking several youths unconscious and injuring others. Officials at the counters could not cope with the waves of applicants scrambling to reach the counter at the northern gate of the department. Overwhelmed by the furious youths, the recruitment officials who were trying their best to complete the formalities of registration after receiving the applicants’ files, had to suspend the process.

They shouted at the officials and accused the officials of dumping their files in a box without recording such details as the weight and height of each applicant. Some of them even attacked the officials at the counter and the officials were forced to stop their work.

Finally, the authorities had no choice but to call in police to control the unruly crowd. In the meantime some officials tried to quell the unrest by announcing on loudspeakers that all the files would be processed only if the applicants waited patiently in the lounges until their names were called out....the situation went out of control despite the best-laid plans because the applicants did not abide by the instructions given to them

"Wait" and "patiently" and "abide by" and "instructions". Again, understandably, missing from our language. If the idea is useless or unpleasant, why bother inventing a word for it?
Any other country, I'd feel sorry for these guys. But it's not as if they don't have a wide choice of jobs anyway, jobs that someone in Cairo or Damascus or Amman would jump at if they were available in their own towns. And there are 1.25 million foreign drivers employed by Saudi households, we could 100% Saudiize those tomorrow, and I bet every single one of those guys can drive, even if he can't do anything else; the only obstacle would be their own vanity.
So the ones who don't get those jobs will continue to waste their youth and their lives. And only the Muttawa will take any interest in their moral welfare.
Young Man Faces Lashing
A Hail court handed down on Wednesday a sentence of 500 lashes and six months in jail to a youth on charges of falling prostrate before a dancer in a musical program held in a rest house (a sort of (usually) alcohol free mens' club / pub out in the suburbs) in Hail seven months ago, Al-Watan newspaper reported yesterday.

The punishment will be given in front of two secondary schools and a mosque in the city. The prostration was recorded by a mobile phone camera and posted on a website. Several visitors to the site demanded the punishment for the youth who prostrated before the dancer.