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Lewis and Clark never learned to pronounce his name, but thanks to her, crossed the American West to the Pacific. His death, knew not at all true. Currently, the coins minted in his honor mysteriously disappear, while the bottom of the river that bears his name is tinged with gold.

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Refining

my goal and my hands, a copy of Zoom is expected to be dissected.

hundred-odd stories I read, a hundred-odd images that look a hundred-odd realities to imagine, a hundred-odd pieces that are making their mark in my mind.

Manuel, knight with a sword and a camera, shows microstories hundred or framing. Gems that deserve to be reread again and again. Melomania
, the lighthouse keeper and siren, Meetings, The Hangman, Asylum, Metaphor ... are just some of the titles that decorate this beauty. Madrid
unusual, the demo, Scrolls, The other world, Zoofilia, The age, Dixeslia, Duel ... catch you on your network.
love and sex, at the door of the courtroom, conference recognition, tragicomedy in two acts, The Drink, Fuel, The Rape of the shade, scraps ... you are left with their mouths open and drool on the verge of slipping.
not miss the chance. Zoom
waiting for you to make you change your world view so far had. About you and you away, you close and you away, playing, selecting, focusing.
And if you want more, this one's blog, http://manuespada.blogspot.com/

will surprise you.

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castles when they saw a wave destroyed the children of sand.

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I remember (Part 2 )

older I remember how I looked like I was fifteen or eighteen you the story and gave me chills the thirties. Now I bow my worst fears.

I remember the father Cyril, their science classes, her candy and her smile of satisfaction, he left his darkroom.

I remember, I forget. I remember, I remember ... One day, leafing a margarita and my mind went blank.

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"The metaphor of the bug" - BY Ronal Perez Diaz - WEEKLY "EXPRESSION" (10 February 2011)

Very few writers have managed to stay ahead of his time so singular and extraordinary as did Franz Kafka with their fantasies and hallucinations terrible about "The Metamorphosis", one of his most important works.

disenchanted existence, away from happiness and harmony (apparently family) of a man like Kafka (Prague 1883 - Vienna 1924) ending in the inner desires to escape his reality, run like the cannonball and end become a bridge or a monkey with infinite freedom aspirations (Report to an Academy). But resigned to his fate, oppressed by unknown forces, in short, at the extreme end of a room, concluded to be a Gregor Samsa, who, after a night of endless slumber, sees the day and takes cognizance of which is a giant insect, miserable, monstrous, in response to a world automated and without any sense of values: society more prone to violence than to peace and solidarity.

"One morning, after a restless sleep, Gregor Samsa awoke into a monstrous insect ... numerous legs, painfully thin when compared with the normal thickness of his legs, shook free concert ... "Obviously

Gregorio transformation manifests as a stance of non-acceptance of the schemes and parameters of family and social coexistence.
way, the renowned Peruvian writer Mario Vargas Llosa, believes that the rebellious and nonconformist attitude of being turned into a bug "is a clever way of seeking redress for the imposition of unfair that life forces us to be always the same, when we would be many "(A world without novels). Indeed, it is a replica of how tired, upset and concerned that their profession was being "Traveling Salesman" and bad relationships that maintained: insincere friendships based on interests or any other desire, except in the effects of pure feeling.

"How tired is this profession I've chosen! "He said to always travel ... relationships are constantly changing, never become truly cordial and where feelings have no place. "

Given this desperate situation, forced by compelling and incomprehensible attitudes: first her father and other oppressive boss , greatly suspicious, Samsa expressed his anger, his weariness and rebellion, all the horror to work and irregular way of life, articulating understandable, in his capacity as an animal, the following:

"To hell with everything! ... I'm stunned to wake up early so ... I do not sleep enough. "

happens that, after the confusion and emotional outburst by Gregory, noted in its interior two fighting forces: on the one hand, his sense of duty and responsibility to force him to return to work, on the other hand, since insect current perspective of useful object can not let you continue using them. "(Luis Quintana Tejera: Critical considerations on Kafka and The Metamorphosis). In contrast, family reactions are diverse, they also made a metamorphosis that leads from an initial stance of acceptance to a hostile attitude of total rejection. The mother does not understand what happens, submissive, worried about her son but unable to help effectively. However, his sister, Grete, it is more condescending, worried about the brother speaks softly, treats him with tenderness. The rejection, intolerance by the head, while his father, in an adverse position, threatens him with his fist, all generated at the first exit Samsa in his room, showing how a person who rebels openly and without shame against the organized world they represent.

is another place worthy of rescue, the second appearance of his father Gregorio "unleashing a series of manzanazos and one of them has to be embedded in its shell, leading to a disease because of putrefaction the fruit and ultimately result: death. We note

therefore an authoritarian father and a type equivalent to the pattern of repression at work, socially, and that is now generated within the family. However, Grete, in the first part of the story, as already stated, we show kindness, representing, in some way, solidarity with the marginalized, however, at the end of the book change your way of being by indifference absolute, his back to his brother. The mother, weak woman, responds to the traditional models of submission, so are confused with the new way for your child's behavior.

Finally, the gruesome Kafka nightmare tells us, can be read as a metaphor or a projection of his feelings: fear, conflict and depression, all generated by the monotony of life, or as an allegory of the horrors that awaited that terrible flood, the two world wars, totalitarianism and the terrible, depraved Nazi genocide, leading to the idea that their monstrous conclusively proved a reality ahead of hallucinations, a distressing prophecy that still reaches the present day.

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I remember (Part I) has 140 Finalist

I remember the future forget the past, live the present.

I remember the first time I went the story and scared the child to read. Much has changed things. Now I'm just afraid that a wolf is hiding behind every tree.

I remember how my father taught me to play tennis, take the racquet and hit the ball correctly with the right effect. I remember well when my turn now trying to explain what a racket or ball. Even what is tennis. And all while I clean the drool.

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Six Mafia play poker when Cupid interrupts the room. In his quiver carries six arrows. All but one are blank.

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Valentine Change of plans

I return my novel, coming as the outcome. Mojo the ink from my pen and when you are about to touch the paper, the protagonist of the same stops me and I start screaming. What disparity

! I have:

- "Now and here in this line of this page in this chapter, I propose a change of plans! I'm tired of make me spend so many hardships that drive me as you please and I finally go to banish Leuret, a French village and spooky unknown. You gave me the chance to say goodbye or Mariona, my wife through the window of the cafe in Barcelona. So I demand a change of plans, let me choose my future while you dedicate yourself to see the junk programs on television. "

Scared, loose the book. In the fall, is carried ahead of the bedside lamp ending shattered on the floor. And the room in total darkness.
Plugging the ceiling light and look to the book, I see that has formed next to him, a large alphabet soup of black on the red highlighting a disturbing CAMBIODEPLANES .

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The architecture student

While caressing my body reviews the lesson in whispers. Capitals, friezes and cornices seem terms that dominates with ease. Is more surprised about the emerging view that Ionic column hide between my legs.

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2 mikes at No. 13, the Atticus Journal

Bipolarity and smoke, have been incorporated into the No 13 Atticus Magazine.

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say that I share page again, with Daniel Sanchez de microstories to weight, an honor.

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While stroking the hair of his wife, who had been happily married for three years, suddenly thought of Martha, his ex, and how he had reacted when told he had met another woman. And she felt guilty about her tears, as never before.
Without saying anything, he continued playing with her hair, and she remembered now a faculty colleague, who had a short courtship, and how he had said he had to leave because he was going to finish school abroad and the distance was not good for a relationship. She also felt guilty, like never before.
Without noticing his wife anything, continued with the mind in the past, thinking this time, what would have happened if he had gone to live with the friend of the girlfriend of his best friend. He did with the excuse that he was not ready, and felt guilty for having done so.
It was also agreed Sarah, the waitress at the bar where he went with his friends when he was about sixteen years, from the nearby home of his parents, the girl who spent summers on the beach and the girl's nursery gave her candy as she smiled.

She felt guilty for everything but continued playing with the hair of his wife.

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hair, cut like biting ears and necks. The smell of blood arouses her true identity.

a client in the salon waiting patiently for a turn that never will come. The very naive not assumed to be bald for years.
parents
In hairdressers, the little Johnny caught his attention by his matted hair. And it is already known in the house of a blacksmith, a wooden knife.

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The bullet in the right temple and left not a righty, is a factor to consider my dear Watson. A priori, lead us to believe that it is no coincidence, especially to check that the body has the revolver seized in the hand. But we must not get carried away by the elemental, a murderer could be cognizant of this theory, they have been so willing to deceive. Look
now in the thoracic cavity, the heart is missing, stolen, which is a testament of what happened my dear Watson gave pumpkins and crazy.

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Need stubbornness

The bullet in the temple and the victim on the floor. And are ten this afternoon. The worst thing is that until you miss will not stop. Since I told my son the legend of William Tell has endeavored to emulate, but in western version. Instead of apples, bottles of whiskey instead of bow and arrows, Colt 45 revolver.
began rehearsing with his friends and as he had many, yet none, it was time for the family. After the last shot, his dog and I, trembling, we looked. Who will be next?

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"Pablo Neruda: The verse of destruction" - by Ronald Perez Diaz - WEEKLY "expression" (27 January 2011)

Already a constant deep lyricism in the poetry of Chilean Nobel (1904-1973), We can now appreciate the poems of "Residence on Earth" an attempt to copy intense expression has, in turn, as the core central point total of existence.

Movement is life hereafter. All movement is translated into action. All action is vital energy expenditure, progressive deterioration of the executing agency. We can therefore affirm that man and everything that surrounds it is intended, of course, the destructive course of existence. Thus life is a continuous end. It is as if the sentence from Genesis "you are dust and to dust you shall return" catch us in its cloak endless night, in its passing degenerative forms in which it is ostensibly life.

Pablo Neruda (1904-1973) understood this process very thoroughly, for, if we delve into the analysis of his poetic glimpse at its coherent imaginative vision "Residence on Earth", what we are expounding. Dead Gallop's poem is already an attempt to assert the following: all that is in motion tends to be exterminated. There he can see what the poet sings superbly: the disintegration of all that exists, the total collapse of matter: "Like ashes, like seas village / in the submerged slowly, as the report (...) / confusing , weighing, turning to dust / in the same mill of ways too far, or remembered or not seen, / And the perfume of plums rolling land / rot in time, endlessly green. "(Gallop Dead).

The elements on which it is possible to verify the disintegration of matter are: the ash and dust in a lifetime determined by time.

According Jaime Concha, literary translator, there are two forms of destruction in Nerudian poetic system, the first is "corruption of things": "(...) confusing, weighing, and turning to dust ...", the second, "the flight of the experience over time": "(...) in the same mill shapes too far, or remembered or not seen ... "

All destructive process is done" in the same mill "in fate, destiny. The flight is like a get out of themselves, to go to the past for memories, for those moving images while static, but elusive and incomprehensible to the understanding, is a flight: "That's all so fast, so living / But still, like a pulley itself ... "(Gallop Dead).

the day, "the sound" comes to be the length of time which is sensitive and expresses life in all its glory: "From the numbers out loud, / numbers and numbers dying with manure, (...) / A soul resonance the wheel / falling from dreams (...) / From resonance comes the day / gain and grade. .. "(One day is out).

as the day is where "emerging issues" and that's where it provides the breakdown of things, every day, as a process of slow death, "drawn to sound the death ..." (death only) .

Then "the day, despite the light that is, is the realm of destruction, the habitat of aging and death" (Jaime Concha, "Interpretation Residence on Earth "). "(...)

tissue of the day, his canvas weak, / is for a band of sick, / (...) is the color you just want to replace / cover, swallow, overcome, make distances. "(Weak dawn).

Behold, the day is the Last Supper of destruction, is the home where life and death everyday living. It is the dome that traps us with their cry of spider. It is in its stratum, which verifies the complete collapse of the forms, the loss of identity, the rapture of the monad by the destination to re-integrate the primitive origin, chaos oceanic to the eternal night where life is forged quietly and with infinite hope become clear, tangible.

"But what is it made, that surge of pigeons / that between night and time, like a moist ravine?" (Gallop Dead). "You keep the stream of light, broken beings ..." [Alliance (Sonata)].

is the night, as the poet's lucid perception of the cosmos, the carrier of life. It is, in its dark light, where the seed germinates for the expression of a new existence. In short, "Residence on Earth," is presented as an obsessive and pathetic search the strata creators of being "(Jaime Concha:" Interpretation of Residence on Earth "). The night is the mother, her life and she comes back to reside in her womb of the eternal feminine. The night, in short, becomes for the poet, in a piece of time where you are looking for the origins of being and therefore it comes as a man and artist, to find the remains creative, regal art nature and centuries.

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"Epigoni of literary aesthetics of change" - BY Harold Castillo - WEEKLY "expression" (16 December 2010)

On September 18 of 2010 will remain etched in the memories of people associated with the literary work of Lambayeque, it was within that community where converge renovated twelve brand new group members SIGNS for our presentation. Despite the physical absence of three of our members (for reasons of distance and time), had its spiritual presence, with its moral and ideological support through his writings and poems.

The goal was to make ourselves known to society as a serious group of mature ideal for the present and the future of the letters in each of the regions and / or countries to which we belong. Now that all is silence and passivity among young intellectuals, include the tenor of our proposal, because, in short, we advocate a far-reaching renewal of literary processes in our nations. After the Vanguards and the Latin American Boom, there have been few notable phenomena in the world of letters, as if literature had entered a period of senescence. In sum, the consumer system and frivolous in the last fifteen years has been dealing with such important aspects to bury man's development, including: values, education, ideology, language proficiency, interest in reading (literary or scientific), the value of life, culture, etc.

We have lost the compass, and we are sailing aimlessly, lives a dull and conformist. New technology has made life easier. The system has satisfied us with news that fills our expectations, ignoring our own humanity. State policies (especially in education and development), do not deal now to form the new citizens (those who are parents in the future) to assume responsibility for managing the good which gives us the modern and scientific advances and technology.

is important therefore that we fight to preserve the basic conditions needed for life to have a consistent directionality. We as a literary group, we, therefore, the desire to project even beyond the merely aesthetic. The literature also a social product and the process takes place in society.

What else can highlight, therefore, our presentation night is the fact of having formed a unit called SIGNS. When we want to contradict history and strives to make us look like a statistical error. Since the last decades, Latin America, there have been no integration paradigms dedicated to literature for the formation of collective action. A literary group is not (or at least should not be) a simple circle reading youth.

This last part can be done simply anecdotal, youth. But beyond experience what we have. When there are no ideals or goals in common, when we are generationally not able to respond to the expectations of our own society. Signs Now

is not only a literary group interregional (Lambayeque, Piura, Cajamarca, San Martin and Lima). Signs Now is also an international literary group (Peru, Mexico and Argentina), and capital have a responsibility towards the literary revolution, humanistic, and dogmas which we are massively over the nascent decade.

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"cultural revolution, spiritual and be through literature" - BY Hazzel Yen - WEEKLY "expression" (16 December 2010)

A time like no other emerges in Latin America and in the world, a desire energetic exchange. This outbreak is already the literature itself. Perceive between our peoples a great disagreement with regard to social situations through which they pass. Each one of us would like to improve the world. Made us feel that this is impossible, immersing us in a passive indifference, lethargy.

In SIGNS think and feel that make the world better is possible. We believe in the man in the power of words and beauty to reform the spirit. We propose the term as a force illuminating. For this we recognize the new communication technologies as a means of amalgamating the ideas through literature. Although some being apart, we feel that the miles and dividing each country's borders have ceased to exist. Testing the barriers are breaking SIGNS: young writers from diverse areas who have come together to express ourselves. We love literature in all its manifestations. This conviction has brought us together, forming a bridge between Mexico, Peru and Argentina, a bridge of words. SIGNS

is that literature shows us brothers, because through it we shared our feelings, ideas, voices, and we realized that we are not far from each other. No white man or darker, larger or smaller, when a heart beats, blood from the heart is our desire for change, our faith in the word. Arteries by circulating the blood are our feathers.

Latin America is many things: our dialects, the warmth of our temperament, our literature, cultural expressions as rich and diverse, our majestic and mysterious past (later desecrated, enslaved and beaten until today), but more than anything is union, strains that through the centuries have struggled, but still standing and are not afraid; fight.

The word comes from the heart is always young and impetuous revolutionary, because being young, primarily, is knowing renew and renewed, for believing in revolutionizing better. This idea has been constant and have been the revolutions that have allowed us to evolve at all times, plain and simple: it does not move is dead.

To use the word revolution, without being misunderstood, I will depart from its etymology: the word "revolution" comes from the Latin verb scramble, "re-spin." If we consider that the world stops turning, then we are in a constant revolution, a process that is always happening in our lives, as natural and inevitable as the movement.

tend to think that revolutions are bad, they have left armed revolutions in its wake a large number of deaths, abuse, and misery. But not all have to be so. What we propose can be called an "armed revolution", if you want to call "weapons" to the power of words, reason and brotherhood, weapons to wage battle against our own internal barriers, prejudices, boundaries that oppress the being and thought.

In the information age (where we live), the boundaries have been broken, the distances have disappeared and ideas travel at the speed of light. This we must address it to the union, fraternity.

global union for a long time was just an ideal, now it is possible here. Every time we get closer, the only thing that divides us now is ourselves, the barrier of thinking that we impose, examples are: discrimination, prejudice, intolerance, among others.

must change constantly to stay alive, to realize that the boundaries of thought and are broken, and this is causing the change, every time we see more signs of this change.