Obama fail

What can I say... I'm disappointed. I watched the first presidential debate on Friday and my impression of Obama as an inspiring politician that was ready to change Washington slowly faded away. I won't say he "lost" the debate, because I don't believe an exchange of ideas has to necessarily produce a winner (it's curious how the minute the debate ended American networks were mostly concerned on giving their opinion on who won...as if trying to condition the American public to ignore substance and judge the debate only on the basis of a winner and a loser), but what I saw was a tame and passive Obama.

Maybe my urgency of getting rid of the Republicans caused me to constantly magnify his virtues and idealize him as the true embodiment of change. Or maybe I was just too naïve to expect him to stand up to McCain in live television and boldly denounce the Republican lies and foreign policy disasters. In any case, I perceived an Obama that was not able to differentiate himself "fundamentally" from his Republican rival. He struggled when trying to explain why McCain's policies were flawed and then let the "maverick" score so many namedropping points that, as a viewer, I almost got the impression that McCain was the real expert.

To put it simply, I saw a candidate that was driven into McCain's turf and forced to play his game. And the problem of beating a Republican in his own geopolitical playing field was evident: you can't talk of the current wars without using their languague...their imagery. In other words, the only way of breaking from the eight long years of Bush, of denting the Republican stronghold, is to attack their discourse. The simplistic good/evil binary or the "freedom fighter" rhetoric need to be subverted in order to fully expose the faults in John McCain's worldview. From what I know, the War on Terror as an ideological space is what needs to be challenged...and Obama fell very short of doing just that.

My Brazil

Although the possessive adjective in the title might suggest that I acquired a portion of that country or that I somehow received the power to appropriate national abstractions, this post is simply a "cultural gazette" on a series of Brazilian experiences that I had.

First, I went to the Vancouver Latin American Film Festival (which, I'm proud to say, was organized by a young Mexican) and watched the film Proibido Proibir, which was truly excellent and inspiring. I won't spoil your experience of watching it by discussing the plot here, but the views of Brazilian society provided by the film functioned as a great complement to the notion I had of the favelas and social divisions in that country. Also, the story managed to jerk a tear or two from my face...which is always very much appreciated by your blogger.

Second, I went to the CSS (Cansei De Ser Sexy) concert at the Commodore Ballroom and enjoyed it even more than the first time I saw them at Coachella 2007. The singer was incredibly energetic and the music had me dancing all night long. This automatically led me to rediscover their amazing CSS Suxx album.

Third, I was recently introduced the work of the great Brazilian photojournalist Sebastiao Salgado. It only took an hour of looking at his book "Workers" to fully reinvigorate my belief that photojournalism not only has the power to effectively denounce injustices, but that photojournalists have a responsibility to find and expose those places where abuse and injustice are hidden from everyday discussion.

Lastly, I still haven't forgotten the Vik Muniz expo I saw this summer. In a way, it changed the way I think of perception and has even affected the way I take photographs.

(And yes...there is a Brazilian girl.)

Su Fobaproa de ellos

Curioso que mientras escribo esto, los vecinos del norte estén discutiendo su propio Fobaproa. (Pero antes de presentar tan infame paralelo, lo voy a meditar con mi almohada y mañana les cuento qué opino. Por lo pronto, me parece curioso)

Paling good, Obama bad

The political discourse in the US these past weeks has deteriorated to the point where I'm not sure if I'm listening to political commentators or gossip writers. With major news channels devoting endless hours to showing the banalities of Sarah Palin's life, it's tragic to realize that the strongest critical commentary comes from a comedian, John Stewart.

Thus, adding to the comedy of the elections, I give you a list with the main differences between Obama and his adversaries. (thank you Kim Cathers)

* If you grow up in Hawaii, raised by your grandparents, you're 'exotic, different.'
* If you grow up in Alaska eating moose burgers, you're a quintessential American story.
* If your name is Barack, you're a radical, unpatriotic Muslim.
* If you name your kids Bristol, Willow, Piper, Trig and Track, you're a true Maverick.
* If you graduate from Harvard law School, you are unstable.
* If you attend 5 different small colleges before graduating, you're well grounded.
* If you spend 3 years as a brilliant community organizer, become the first black President of the Harvard Law Review, create a voter registration drive that registers 150,000 new voters, spend 12 years as a Constitutional Law professor, spend 8 years as a State Senator representing a district with over 750,000 people, become chairman of the state Senate's Health and Human Services committee, spend 4 years in the United States Senate representing a state of 13 million people while sponsoring 131 bills and serving on the Foreign Affairs, Environment and Public Works and Veteran's Affairs committees, you don't have any real leadership experience.
* If your total resume is: local weather girl, 4 years on the city council and 6 years as the mayor of a town with less than 7,000 people, 20 months as the governor of a state with only 650,000 people, then you're qualified to become the country's second highest ranking executive.
* If you have been married to the same woman for 19 years while raising 2 beautiful daughters, all within Protestant churches, you're not a real Christian.
* If you cheated on your first wife with a rich heiress, and left your disfigured wife and married the heiress the next month, you're a Christian.
* If you teach responsible, age appropriate sex education, including the proper use of birth control, you are eroding the fiber of society.
* If, while governor, you staunchly advocate abstinence only, with no other option in sex education in your state's school system, while your unwed teen daughter ends up pregnant , you're very responsible.
* If your wife is a Harvard graduate lawyer who gave up a position in a prestigious law firm to work for the betterment of her inner city community, then gave that up to raise a family, your family's values don't represent America's.
* If you're husband is nicknamed 'First Dude', with at least one DWI conviction and no college education, who didn't register to vote until age 25 and once was a member of a group that advocated the secession of Alaska from the USA, your family is extremely admirable.

Harlem

I recently wrote an essay about a poem by Langston Hughes. Although I will not bore my readers to death by pasting my essay here, I want to share the poem, with the hope that it will lead to some introspection.


What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-
And then run?
Does it sting like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Police vs. Photography

I had a rather uncomfortable experience last Friday while I was on assignment for the Ubyssey newspaper. You can read about it here. (for my non Canadian readers, RCMP stands for Royal Canadian Mounted Police.)

The online version of the paper does not show my pictures this time. But my lucky blog readers get special privileges:

y por azar...

...gracias a que mi iTunes se anda portando mal, redescubrí una rola que me puso a cantar instantáneamente. Fue como un rescate de memoria profunda...sentí como si me hubieran sacado una pequeña joya que tenía guardada y empolvada en un cajón obscuro y profundo en la piel debajo de la nalga derecha.

¿Cómo sucedió? Pues puse play en alguna rola de Sigur Ros que sí estaba reconociendo mi iTunes, y cuando se acabó, iTunes se saltó todas las que no reconocía, hasta que se detuvo un segundo y empezó a tocar "Trátame Suavemente":

Alguien me ha dicho que la soledad
se esconde tras tus ojos,
y que tu blusa atora sentimientos, que respiras
tenes que comprender
que no puse tus miedos
donde estan guardados,
y que no podré quitártelos
si al hacerlo me desgarras.

No quiero soñar
mil veces la mismas cosas
ni contemplarlas sabiamente
quiero que me trates suavemente.

Te comportas de acuerdo
con lo que te dicta cada momento
y esta inconstancia, no es algo heróico
es mas bien algo enfermo.

No quiero soñar
mil veces las mismas cosas
ni contemplarlas sabiamente
quiero que me trates suavemente.

I hate iTunes more than Bush

It happened again. My iTunes stopped recognizing my music library. This is the third time in less than two months that I lose all my playlists, lose my play counts, and lose a considerable portion of my music. Arrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhh! (I still don't understand why this happens, but I'd love to take a second here to blame it all on my Lenovo PC...and Bill Gates, of course.)

Vancouver Soapbox Race

Today was the first annual Vancouver Red Bull Soapbox Race and I was sent by the Ubyssey newspaper to take some shots of the event. The clear skies and the heat prompted thousands of Vancouverites to swarm 4th Avenue in their beach attire, taking advantage of the last remnants of summer. It was a day for inventiveness and imagination, as 50 teams of soapbox racers displayed their creations on the pit lane, and then raced them downhill on a course with some fun obstacles.

Star Wars?
Batman
Team Steam
BC's Premier Gordon Campbell.
Here is the online slideshow! . Thanks to the Ubyssey's Photo Editor Goh Iromoto for making it possible!

Funny fact: the painfully 80s band Whitesnake participated with their own soapbox and finished in third place!

Receta para levantar el ánimo

Amaneció el primer viernes de mi último semestre de universidad (!!!) y me pegó una ola inesperada de soledad. Decidí no dejar que se convirtiera en tsunami y me inventé la siguiente receta para levantar el ánimo:

Ingredientes:
- endorfinas (muchos, muchos miligramos)
- pan multigrano (dos rebanadas)
- crema de cacahuate (una cucharadota)
- mermelada de fresa (otra cucharadota)
- playlist de Juan Luis Guerra (que incluya "El Niágara en bicicleta")

Modo de preparación:
1. Se pone uno sus chortzitos de bici y se estira sus piernas. Sale a pedalear a ritmo moderado media hora hasta que el viento le haya limpiado todas las lagañas. En ese momento uno agarra recio el volante y sube el ritmo. Se mantiene así en agitación dos horas.

2. Terminando su ejercicio, se prepara uno su sandwich de crema de cacahuate con jalea de fresa. Es importante que la cantidad de jalea se idéntica a la cantidad de crema de cacahuate, y que ambas se derramen por las orrillas del sandwich.

3. Antes de empezar a comer el sandwich, se le pone "play" a Juan Luis Guerra. La combinación de jalea de fresa por la boca y miel por los oídos tiene un enorme efecto multiplicador.

Una vez completada la receta, me metí a la regadera y mi mente se fue de paseo. Salí, y mientras me razuraba, me vi a los ojos en el espejo y dije, "tranquilo Bobby, tranquilo."

Upon this tidal wave of young blood

After a long absence... I've decided to relaunch the "unplugged Wednesdays". (Although I have yet to buy a decent webcam and an actual microphone.)

Battles en Van

Vengo regresando del concierto de Battles y lo primero que noto es que, aunque me puse mis Hearos, me siguen retumbando los oidos. ¡Qué vatos tan intensos! No puedo decir que me encantó la música - en muchos momentos me sentí más perdido que la primera vez que escuché jazz - pero sin duda me impresionaron. Verlos samplear en vivo, rascando sus guitarras y jalando las teclas de sus sintetizadores, fue cansado hasta para los ojos.

El show duró poco más de una hora, pero al final todos quedamos empapados. Hasta el color de la camisa del guitarrista cambió de color de tanto sudor. Desde la primera rola, quedó claro que Battles se nos iba a meter por los huesos... su sonido era algo inescapable. Tal vez porque no tocan ritmos convencionales, ni estribillos, ni coros, ni algo predecible, su show exige la máxima atención del público. Para mi, la atención se convirtió rápidamente en asombro cuando me di cuenta de la cantidad de cosas que suceden en el escenario a la vez!

El guitarrista principal se la pasa sampleando riffs mínimos, los mezcla con gritos en un micrófono, y luego les graba encima un piano...y todo mientras lleva el ritmo con la mano derecha y dirige al baterista. El baterista vive con la mirada clavada entre sus piernas, en un trance que parece irrompible hasta que se levanta de vez en cuando para pegarle a un platillo que le queda muy elevado. El bajista le agrega finísimas notas de bajo a la mezcla, las samplea, las distorsiona y se la pasa jugando con la velocidad de la grabación. Y la mano del otro guitarrista se la pasa haciendo puente entre dos sintetizadores y las cuerdas de la guitarra. En fin, en vivo son impresionantes.