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10 November, I am told was a day complex, hard, suffered much crying and concern, as were two girls on their way, two girls while he was ahead and decided to make itself felt before time. Everything was ready to receive them, the only thing that lacked was the position that these small they were.

The first one took responded better than the second. Estella was called, and was larger than the first, but weak and frail, his body did not respond, his senses gave way and the death came.

just spent three days in this small could breathe the air of this world, or the artificial air of a machine trying to fight between life and death with an angel's body dressed slowly of eternity, of persistent memory and reason to believe that life is lived best when you have.

The girls fought, as they could but they did, the first could win, lived, cried and grew up trying to configure the reason for his life, the history that preceded and the sister who accompanied her.

years passed, life went on, new evidence came and now, life, death and struggle are configured to machine new possibilities stand in the midst of chaos, time, the misfortunes and questions that are constantly released into the air to hunt answers.

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Household and amooor Obama!

write from a state of psychic weird combination. From sadness and euphoria. A kind of bipolarity that prompts me to write. Dear bloggers,
, bloggers, readers, voyeurs, and all who pass through this port, if not regularly come to surf here because I went through the bank and told me I should write in a more personal record. And to be more tough on myself. In a note autolapidaria without trolls involved. [The existence truculent blogger, ha or no big deal:)]

have happened facts that when old lady, I'll tell my grandchildren, if anything I have them, how we spent in Peru, years shameful how will history unfolding in the midst of dictatorships open or not, how to conquer democratic spaces how not to forget the disappearances and murders. How to enjoy and cry too.

"New generations will be able to end the corruption that is the biggest impediment to poison and breaking everything that hinders the possibility of building a strong solid country that refuses to be nest expliadores?. Oooh, I'm not someone who aspires to a seat
a chamber of Congress or in any establishment. I'm someone like any of you. Maternal influences may move around more in the introspective look and overview of our country. May also influence the political culture that was developed from a small observer to which my father said: hey my girl, look all around you and do not take everything wrong you see, is normal.

Barack Obama elected in the United States as President. The first black president in a country where a few years ago blacks were on the back seats of buses!. Ghettos for black people. Ghettos ghettos.

Mohamed Ali. Luther King. Angela Davis. Malcolm X. Dear, what would you say to Obama now?. Capital

who financed Obama, let's see ... how Obama will not compromise with those with the power of money? . Alone can not counter the avalanche.
And what's exciting is to see the vast human tide Americans, tired of wars, military interventionism, of everything that America represents. American pride is not blind at the end after all.
The advent of strong challenges arrive. Rationally be confronted. And angry.

This morning I thought about the home. In a previous post saying that I am lucky. I do not unbecoming. But not always we want to stay with us. I think that what remains is to give. Not a note of sacrifice. If no joy. Hell, yes. A powerful joy. Not take away the joy. Falling in love

. Enjoy what you enjoy. The deja vu is something that comes when is impossible not to arrive. But I will not become a fixie sadder. Noooo.

Thanks to a Mexican friend of social networks, a linker wonderful, I loved this video I will now. Thanks to the friend, the video and my affection for this home that is Puerto Asterix, I wrote this post.

Back to Port is one of my vitamin pills for the karma. Eyoleé!.

salutes Huge dear blogosphere, yeeeeaah!.

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Time goes by and says ... The rhythm of tango

a while ago had left the good habit of writing a bit, saying, expressing and recreating a series of ideas of their own, born from experience, life, observation, silence, reading and music.

Back after a series of experiences accompanied by the complexity of time and good lethargy, when they dissipate, we face reality in order to account and verify that stays to be.

The retreat into silence works, it's good to shut up a little and strain to the senses to be encouraged to perceive what is around them, learn to deduct in new ways, learn to speak without the need for cumbersome words adorned with warmth, learning to depart when appropriate and learn to say yes, if they are willing to live facing what the decision will bring.

There is a duality that I see in society, observed that even in my own life, what happens when we are lonely and long for the stability endearing a warm kiss in the morning?, and when that kiss is who crave the solitude of loneliness libertine passing instant of happiness?

We are complex beings, we want more of what we have, but I invite you to learn to live forward from what we have, let us not get tired of the limits and enforcement, it is proven that when you want to go beyond what we can achieve as long as we move the tabs on the game so aware and consistent.

worth building, it off dream, but it's worth not forget us when the possibility of a new company appears to us in life, because they prevent some of these laments late "if I had done, said, acted, said, lived ..." This is the time, that we now live and build, dream and imagine, take a chance to love against all the strange premonitions that are anxious and fearful.

Risk live every day, and if something goes wrong, we must face it, accept it, to rescue and rebuild, not to feel defeated and dedicated to the impossibility to live again an experience that will make us good or bad, the important thing is not to stay with the desire to discover, and discern possibilities exist that do not allow us to test a real situation.

I sense good taste of the time when the experience we have in hand and we can be quiet after saying that life was pleasant, we assume that and we learned from the streams to feel, breathe, live, dream, listen, build, mourn, yearn for love ....

Carolina Moreno.

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not want to leave this port

The other day I began my self-questioning about what I've learned over the years of blogging.
I think I have not used a cap, a series of x reasons. The main one is that I have too much free time and if they persist in the sleepless nights or letting unveiling attack me, I'll have a zombie air will not be at all nice, although they can give me an enigmatic air. But a film be grave. Paso.

Perhaps therefore deserve to have some academic underestimate me in your area, but I do not think that's fair, I am not like him, an academic. The I recognize is that I dispense my time more earnestly, as if it were life to me, as if a molecular revolution broke out and demand my presence. It is with this and enjoy what you learn. What do you think?

This route of self-questioning, I realize that Puerto Asterix, my first blog, has turned into an experience that shows me how my potential had subsided in the 90's. I mean the creative force in those years because I went through as the vast majority of Peruvians, a very hard stage, which the couple were years of friends, wandering paths, discoveries. That is, no I read too but we should consider to read "too" is devoted to reading and what I did is read but does not as a student of literature and when I boarded thinkers, to José Carlos Mariategui, Montaigne, Nietzsche, Foucault until Deleuze, my cranial support was not exactly open up the deeper interstices.

Everywhere I see indifference to discover beyond what they give you educational programs. Or on the other hand I do not delve into what you offer. There is enough material to study. It's a rich universe.

When you know beyond what you do with newspapers and all the established and familiar, have the potential to look much more and if it is true that this world is not a place of flowers and dreams pop, it is also true that you can feel the pleasure from other shores . It's like being born again several times. Yes, I think it is. And depression has no place. Or you can be sad but there is so much to know and live, that sadness does not go away but not kill. You could say I'm contradicting the old Emile * and what I believe is that in no way renounce the pessimism: I assume as pessimism dynamic, proactive.

sometimes wanted to be an astronaut and living in outer space some time, with music reflecting on the radical solitude. Just for a while. But it is necessary for meditation and self-questioning have lived in these years of blogging.

I keep writing here in Puerto Asterix.
I put this template, because I really liked since I saw his film reminiscent static, the air post-rocker and although the letters together and posts are not optimal for reading, I'll leave for the port, I think temporarily as part of an intention, a whole on this blog that I will continue writing, but not post daily.

Did anyone think that I let go of the links? With the new mask of Delicious, the previous linkage I had expired and I apologize if I'm immediately aware of the event (Delicious with new domain, go!). I've updated.
I like the idea of \u200b\u200bthe link. It's like a record of all blogs aquelllos, spacios with which there is a permanent relationship, but do not comment on them. Always be near, to make the click and scroll through them, sharing their rhythms and findings, what is the great community cybernauts who writes blogs.

Tonic blogger!. We see here and there. Major salutes for all Abraxas which are molecules with multiply and bring us closer, siempreeee!



* Emile Cioran.
Illustration taken from Google.

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Now I raise my camera to the sky, a strange, confusing, but delicious box is drawn for my eyes only, or believe themselves good, because maybe there is another person who also boost your look to the sky and dares to raise a number of thoughts that motivated to sit a bit and falling asleep while wallowing in their sweet words and sunset.

Sweet rhythms fused with tantalizing tangos, provocative, tender, bitter, light, dark, are you doing in my effect, I give life, destroy me, trample on me, but then I rebuild, mold me, I feel fine form and force clear, it feels different, new omens, I see that coming a new reason to smile, to fly, strong coloring yellow day, even the most obscure.

I still have to smile, though not all is said, even I have reason to dream, still want to build, even I learn to fly, I still want to learn to dance, even I do like the people around me did not see it, and if they see it, does it matter? even want to sit under a tree branch to read their thoughts, theirs, everyone, mine, my books, those butterflies that are hidden candy to find them and treasure to myself.

They have a continuous flight, demarcate the ways forward, supporting the wings who are behind them, mine, those I'm just starting to build with the firm intention not to be breaking down, not to be robbed by instant sighs of pleasure. These butterflies come out tender, if a sigh escape, but now these are different, they are directed towards them, for them, carry a new art, a presence accomplice dream, you want ....

Dancing to "The Sickness" I am, this is a state that does little to explain with a look and a light flight to a friend recently, the Delirium Tremens, although I know that this time if I stopped at a fixed and stable, concrete, solid enough to move on and write a story in the recipient's company magic words.

A Volar.

Carolina Moreno

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Post tribute to my father and the parents of the world.

Commemorations are usually ways that marketing reaches its maximum effect. Alongside these dates can be and are in many cases, wonderful ways of expressing concentrations much we love our mothers, fathers, sons. To post again, I thought I should be with something important to me and everyone. The father's presence in our lives is key, as the mother, but not all we had from our first breath of life. In my case I just told my father, because my story is just one of those we see in countries like Peru, where the neglect case shows how much distress there is in what is the education of children, parenting, the pace of their experiences that (we) are and make us who we are. The community and everything is globalized peripheral influences our lives being the base, the seed, the first influence of our parents. Or the mother alone, single parent, widowed, separated from the mother of his son (a) or vice versa. The orphanage is a fact strongly palpable in the Third World, whether by poverty, drug addiction, alcoholism or other reasons, the percentage of children orphaned bears witness to that solitude which condemns an infant, lacking the emotional presence of those who bore it. Thus the birth injuries will become scars, marks, which opened up feeling a lack of what most craved: the affection of a parent or that was close. Eternal like orphans, open wounds along their paths. And that is where there is a kind of heroism, when he who raises his son, or one who assumes the paternal or maternal function, enhances their ability to love and gives your child a strong desire to provide it with the highest of human qualities.

In a post I wrote that I'm all that my father would not be but that is not accurate. Inside me is what he basically left me. I have no success in societies like ours prevails, but I have strength, I write, I have my once a son whom I love, I am who I am and I have gone ahead in the middle of avatars, because inside me is what he left me . I think that's why I've been able to discern postponed issues in the political, personal, emotional and social. I know I've been wrong many times and again that I might be wrong, yes I am, imperfect, defective, and while I know much of what works in me to admit, it's my father. Dad, a man who is gone forever, when he was old, after having taken into his life as his daughter against the wind and tide. Dad told me beautiful stories and he planted in me by bringing me a love of reading Batman comics and stories of Hans Cristhian Andersen. After the dolls and other toys, books first, so was Dad obsequious. Dad and his weight for the precise spelling and good to say. Father

dancing a tondero and songs of the Beatles, taking off his hat because he was smart as the gentlemen of the old guard who heard beautiful waltzes and so, although I did not realize since that time, I began to appreciate folk music, the huaynos and yaravíes.
angry parents when there was only angry and needed. Without ever doubting his paternal love, so was Dad. Recio and friendly.

I have been fortunate and perhaps I have not considered now to write this post a tribute here in Puerto Asterix .
Every day I see parents swift to their workplaces, and I know that between contradictions and joys, Father's Day will be an occasion to meet with the family. I know there is a kind of heroism in the lives of millions of men who in many cases frustrate their dreams and devote their energies on building their homes, this small gesture or cells where micro and macro fighting fascism. This post tribute applauds parents who face their limitations and rush with the most powerful they have in their lives, thinking and emotional capacities to undertake every day education of their children.

Hope's Father's Day to all of you are predisposed to join in a celebration where you both want and that is the fortune, sits at its best when the hugs and the looks are reflections of what they are and believe.

Looking for a waltz in honor of his parents found this lovely video where the voice of Cecilia Barraza magnifies the Creole. Luis Abelardo Núñez appears, the composer's heart when he spoke in a memorable performance that I find their uniqueness and because it harmonizes with the sense of post and joy, I welcome that. Huge
salutes parents of the world.

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trance. Best

Outside everything is noise and chaos, no ambulance sirens ringing, whistles of cops who try desperately to keep order in the midst of garbage, both accident, even so many deaths.

Now you must be on a journey, a lunar trip? a trip through time? a musical journey? a journey of wounds and nightmares? a trip to close their eyes and might not see the tears falling in torrents down our cheeks as we remain mired in a pit of

soul?

A trip to memory? a journey to escape from yourself? a journey to experience a nightmarish delirium tremens without end? a journey to get closer to me? a journey to get to the field and begin to cultivate a garden with daisies? a trip to give wings to

repressive mind? a trip to the forced laugh? an acid that breaks out everything? a trip to experience more skin? a trip to apologize to the music? a journey to not feel my feet as they take big leaps? a journey to cross roads and mountains? a trip to

look at the sky? a trip to kiss in the dark eyes of the world? a trip to feel light? a trip to see how everything is diluted while trying to shape? a trip to embody no injuries? a trip to remove the crust of the scars?

a trip to tell me what I want to hear? a trip to tell me what infuriate me? a trip for not thinking about hate? a trip to dream the life that does not have? a trip to excuse the tedious existence every day? a trip to run away without Mom noticing? a trip for anybody see you? a trip to swim in the sea? a trip to hear my laughter? a trip to drink you my tears in glass jars? A trip to taste the sea? a trip to argue the ideas? a trip not to think? to calculate a trip? a trip to inhale the smoke of others breathe? travel to smile without a face? a trip to cry for no reason? a trip to justify everything? a trip to feel that if there are things worth? a journey to steal feelings momentary? a trip to take

lethargy lifeless? a journey to challenge death? a trip to feel death? a trip to overthrow the world? a trip to feel superior? a journey to avail ourselves of the ability of an all-powerful? a journey without end points? lustres travel between thinkers? a trip to feel one of them? a trip to feel crap? a journey to love? a trip to flourish? a journey to confuse? a trip for you breathe? ...

That number of questions which I addressed, which go around the head from which the voice we found ... how much thought since my tears escaped me for a day while searching for excuses that are spelling the name of your trip.

a memory I believe a ghost, I feel, I believe you feel, you feel? you are? that way you make me important and valuable? when you create so much power to be, get and stay in my life? in that time everything flooded delicate strokes between the words? that sentence decided to move in the path of the dream in full

actually touching the soul ?

My trip will be another dream disguise as and excuse to get yourself in the middle of your trance.

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Suicide, life, rebirth supreme

Who has not gone through extreme situations?. Even in the often idealized childhood, there have been moments of terror and distress that may already have forgotten. And in the middle state of existence that is not drowning in conflicts or extreme distress, there are thresholds at which one gets stuck until something, a sign, a paradox, a jolt that takes you out of critical condition. So that desiring machine that is the human body is built on a battlefield or in a kind of hazy stratosphere. Or in a rare oasis where anything can be called happiness. Certain harmony reigns in the oasis (inevitably recall the Canaanites Eleafar , of \u200b\u200bcourse.)

If I have to refer to suicide, I think Silvia Plath, who killed himself after an agony which living death. Depressed and lonely. Or think of Gilles Deleuze that launched through the window of his apartment in Paris, final act of a life full of expansions in what he called rhizomes. Or else there is in the emotional memory, Paul Lafargue, notable unionist and Laura Marx woman dedicated to the pleasures of reading elective, who committed suicide together in a last act of sharing. The letter rejects the decrepitude PL leaves and explains that because of this, he and Laura were in a voluntary self-elimination. There

committed suicide to avoid death at the hands of murderous rakes, as was that of Walter Benjamin. Others providing their suicides afraid to confront a huge judgments for debt and prison. That is, the final redoubt suicide to end a desperation Copador. Or the suicide as an epilogue to a depression rooted internalized to the core. Routes that go nowhere.

could talk endlessly about suicide and if you've ever thought about the possibility of undertaking, here among netizens, for my part, I think that while the body you live and your main operating perceptive powers, the chances of supreme joys do not stop. Jorge Luis Borges, blind and old set up where he could. O but think
lives marked by unusual misfortunes. The random and unpredictable cruelty. Accidents. Violent deaths. And the people Nearby you have to confront the loneliness of solitude different everyday, do not be tempted to disappear? no other subjectivities enhancer, life can be an unbearable hell.

. Imagine

on other side, suicide by a mode of collective psychosis, as happened among adolescents in Japan. Suddenly

hipoerindustrializadas in societies, which recently were children pavimentodesde crash on the eighth floor, in minutes, and are thrown onto the tracks to be Arrol by a train, something that seemed to come as a hurricane. The mode of mass death.
No black sheep there, kill everyone, everyone agreement, all think alike. In all they found nothing more attractive than death, because, because maybe there was nothing in their lives that really excited, but the possibility of the end but all in a fit, on an impulse thanatic sealed by a sinister frivolity.
And in the end he repents, and has no outlet. Anyway, their brains explode. Leatid vowed suicide club.

Can you imagine listening to all sides that it is fashionable to kill?

*

remember an episode of the remarkable television series Inspector Morse, where u boy tells the sorrowful friend of a suicide, that everyone can do what he wants with his body. Sure, that's not always true. In that episode illustrated: a 15 year old girl commits suicide because being drugged feeling that he knew all the sublime and after that, nothing was worth it. It was time to die.
The simplicity of reasoning induced by the euphoria of a drug. The sublime sensations misleading. Hypnotic pleasure that lets you leave no room for anything else.

*

able to live much longer, with the appearance of being changed, many with the beauty of youth lost (unless the cosmetic via plastic surgery provide a false impression of freshness) becomes interesting, revealing, open, only if you learned after unlearn what they taught us in dogma.
What do you think?


From my experience, knowing that the network while globalization may make individuals addicted to cyber banalities, I find in blogging and reading blogs, a rich universe where life dwell and nurtured. Openness to all creation prospects in various fields. Starting
action include: the simple motion to place a song that could not find in record stores. A song can give what you needed. Feedback. The cybermundo free zone.

Here is a cover of Resistiré , a subject of rockers dynamic duo. The Peruvian band Mar de Copas sings it. With it, the endless thank you for giving life to asterix port with your reading and comments. Carpe Diem!.








Note .- Among other references, read a valuable essay on suicide, before writing this post. If you are interested in this neat approach, here it .

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well.

"He died my eternity, and I'm veiling" ...

Cesar Vallejo.

To Juanki-chaco.

Well, if my friend circle all day today to be the idea for my constant source of sadness, I rephrased the question that you previously had made, trying to find a link that allowed me to climb to reach the ideal conclusion to allow us to clarify ideas, or perhaps tears.

Music with an air of rain and soft, slow rhythms was my ideal guide for the analysis of the origin was looking for, your answer to my question, so simple in my eyes but so deep to my soul, I, I I think walking and you grieve, which is what you add in the arms of that lovely feeling passenger station and in many cases to permamente ...

Your look is radiant spark, your soul is restless, but Your fear is that preserved as a treasure of childhood is always better not to disclose, but who accompanies you, is there as your best friend, those who never give up and stay there until we have to watch over them and bury them.

tell you now As night falls, that his silence envelops us, and I better let your soul fly with the sky better in store ... we want

Good flight.

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A song (three years of blogging) is to resist

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I ever heard that only cowards commit suicide and those who persist in living, are brave. A dichotomy that many believe it.
reading
With Depression post on the blog Gobalizado, which binds a fully realized post envisioned that depression is deadly. I wonder how much can be prevented without the shells from cracking and falling crystals to a deep well. Hamlet is dying of grief and rage and finally killed him, having undertaken his revenge. That tragedy expresses more A history of rage. In the caves possibly humans had no time to grieve because they had to survive. As that accompanied the industrial age, physical distance is widened and the road near collapse technology companies argue, are reinvented social economic processes apparently prosperous. While countries like Peru, Ecuador, Bolivia and many more, the violence is confined mainly to criminal and political parameters in other so-called first world, the gap is based on the inhabitants of cities where comfort is more accessible to all or lesser degree. Yet dissatisfaction is deep. For example, in Japan, overdeveloped country, suicides are rising alarmingly.
The desired happiness is sought in religion, in hipersexo in the economic boom in the idealization of love and slips like water through fingers.

Some seek to accumulate knowledge to excel in the field where they work. Trampling on the other, stand in any way possible, passion for this kind of intense adrenaline where the other is merely a reason to feel superior. You know? What happens is that I do not intend to give
recipes or advice. Write to me is more than a relief, a taste, a desire. Everyone has their reasons for seeking a balance within the disequilibrium that is to live in the middle a daily quest for the horror. A horror assimilated, processed, attenuated, faded. Everyone has the right to decide about their life and while not everyone knows what to do with their lives. No minimally. José Martí

When referring to freedom of the individual, depending on their culture, was in the midst of abysmal conditions where the illiteracy rate was dismal. Today when you go eradicating illiteracy, freedom has come. Formally, yes. But we are subject to a machinery of prejudice, war, manipulation. So the radical in terms desaprisionarse never hurts. Illustrated to counter what you imposed as absolute truths and therefore unquestionable you out of your island, you away from your primary emotions, although it may conllevarte to a destabilization of assumed beliefs about school, family, community.
The title of this post is on a conversation with my friend Hamletmaschine about a movie I saw recently, before he removed from the bill of premieres: Halloween, Rob Zombie. Talking to Hamletmaschine, always exciting. Come more ideas or expand you had. This is what happens when there is that emotional boomerang in which you are nurturing, where you realize that while you are selfish, that will not void as a thinking and resources that you have to leave the melancholy or simply broaden your horizons. If anything causes you joy, if you do not laugh, what remains is to consider that you are sick or ill, but certainly are not alone or just do not mind though that now and may even be delayed and as a way of dying, emerge. I do not want to give the impression of encouraging rampant optimism. What I say the words of Andrzej Zulawski, Cultivation is resisting, prompted me to write this post. And what I said this song brings me to pervade most of all that is known to not only learn but to live, to live. Without that spirit that makes you consider yourself conceited exquisite because you know more than others. The power of knowledge free domain of its claims, we will equip you with free and lightness. That lightness in the wombs of our mothers ever feel.

Here is the post Depression, via the blog Globalized.

Lots Of Cm A Week Before Period

Cultivating Diversity Hey

There are situations and people who draw from a better or worse. A radical polarization in one direction or another our eyes, perceptions, everything that makes us as we
. Moral discourse differs from that which is not the pedantic note is subtle or not, to establish a canon, standards immovable: stale orthodoxies.

Based on this recognition, suggest that analyzing the reggaeton defined as located outside his influence, is insufficient. If I had 17 years may yield to its effect. So today, junk food is tasty since you put in front of a hamburger full of mustard with a little bit of lettuce. Is how quickly all you have followers, the food prepared in rolling plates, music discs served short with catchy sounds. In reggaeton, for example, their uniritmos saturated when you do not leave locked up in the routine but it
this as music. The repetition of a sound, as the idea that not large but constricted. The tam tam you dance while singing about how to take to bed the girl you like. And some will say that it is frankly, because that is what has been felt for centuries but has always been covered with the advent of medieval romance.
Sex filling every pore of your body to dance reggaeton. So runs the chaos in its destructive sense permeating the alleged deshinbición note. That is, the boundaries defining what is obscene or not, are blurred.
Paolo de Lima referred in one of his posts, the reggaeton smart. Probably refers to a friend made me listen recently and talked about daily experiences in the street and rebelled against the misery accepted as legitimate, against everything that is resigned to an eternal course there will always be rich and poor is not the same as saying there will always be black, white, mulatto, mestizo, etc.. Fatalism.

So by way of letters is no other way for reggaeton by now. That album showed by my friend, before I wrote about these rhythms will be heard at a subsequent visit. I will have more elements to say that yes, there is a smart reggaeton, do you there?. How? I do not know, but I'll know.

However, I must say that if it comes to fashions that become classics, cumbia is verging on these lands, spread beyond the borders and that its impact is not negligible in comparison to holding the reggaeton. The post written by Paolo de Lima I was clarifying the matter. If we speak of Chicha, we'll be talking about diversification. Chicha I have the hard memories: sounds of fighting, insults via huge parties where talking, aggressive screams are heard and if you're going near the place they came from, you can witness the start of which was stabbed in his fights. In a visceral display and has nothing to do with kitsch imagery, often playing Chicha quasi lumpen violence. We are at the Chicha shouting their grievances folded halfway between the offense for the crime and delirium. Reaching that point, I think the punk scene in England. Guys that out of tune with their guitars as weapons were turned into music. Questioning establisment, cursing the conditions of life in the suburbs. And then by natural association, consider the call of the underground rock movement that was born in Lima, sounds dirty, erratic and powerful. Lima was like other cities in the world, the focus of youth resistance in the midst of the bombings, curfews and extreme violence. These were the tumultuous 80's whose echoes are felt in this century, and whereas the cumbia that later became called chicha burst in the national spectrum, expanding to other countries. And again it is understandable that the country's heartland, with millions of migrants conducive to a musical fusion where huayno sorrow is transformed into Andean cumbia and then chicha, a musical Frankenstein with city signals. Rate

musical expressions saying this is good, it is bad, would be the most comfortable. What happens is that there are ranges, streams, attitudes, circumstances, visions, and in those areas, cumbia and northern Andean roots which is the most popular, preserves a certain freshness in its intensity. There is a decidedly romantic ferrous crosses the cumbia and sealed with emotions that arise superpopulares issues like this:



When you look around people love songs like "Bewitched, you understanding how identity unfolds Peruvians. Similarly you can understand other idiosyncrasies of their deepest rhythms. Those songs that millions of people dance suggest what they mean fashion beyond the constraints of advertising. Personally, I hope
Embrujo dance on occasion. No doubt much will enjoy the moment.

With the merger huayno rock that broke the boom via the Peruvian telenovela The up and down in the 90's in the subject Tricycle Peru, comes the very spirit of insubordination which refuses to be labeled for the benefit of the purely commercial. Brand essential rock records with different derivatives has expanded worldwide as a perennial phenomenon. Mojave, after the People of the neighborhood are the paradigmatic band that going windings and temperate in their routes with the strengthening of their creations convenes youth masses, surprisingly. One of those large gatherings are held at the National Stadium on July 15 last year in a tribute to Nectar, the group Peruvian Music died in a bus crash in Argentina. As happened with Alianza Lima football team perished in a plane crash, causing a terrible though among the fans, in December 1988 and the death of members of Nectar moved to Peru. The National Stadium was the place where dedicated Mojave Trike Peru Nectar Group. In memoriam.



Alma to conquer, heart to love and life to live with you , letters of a Peruvian waltz rocking take on another tone: love is a song unredeemed.



chicha came Chic!, Paolo de Lima post of the blog area for news.

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Music, live music!

When you have to scream


Mergers.

I see myself dancing at a festival this song (and note please the illustrative comments via youtube, regarding racism on which we commented in a previous post)



I listened the other evening a session reaageton radio. I took off the headphones carefully and soaked me reaggetoneros rhythms. The monotony and the lyrics I was exhausted. I thought originally. And after reading and reading I went to the years of Jean Genet Black Panthers when he went with them everywhere and Angela Davis was a living icon. Faced racism and poverty in the slums. Now there is nothing but a sex wave parody note foul. Then I said, come, look, there must be other pockets give you other parameters in the reggaeton music. So I'll start that inquiry soon. I delayed, because I usually remove books and documents when I love it. In this case my interest is on the elucidation and it becomes exciting. We live in times ferocious, more ferocious than ever. And all the ferocity is difrazada and colluding with marketocracy that sticks in the junior circuits.

When I hear or read about the arrival of reggaeton and cumbia / Technocumbia pituca the clubs, as if that was a great achievement, I wonder to what lengths has permeated the popular imagination, the need to join as result in areas where coming out of them-whether they be on a case-clubs do not seem to a foreigner, is ignored. The note of scorn via cyclic racism, transmitted via education. Can tell you that racism is more embarrassing if you are in your life because you went through your early years, remains inoculation as chronic hepatitis in the unconscious and the remainder is injected lucidity. Just that and of course, be a maverick who is not the same as saying that tolerate and do not discriminate against those not like you.

aesthetic By way yet to find anything interesting to reeaggeton. And do not tolerate it, just I have no reason to settle for listening at full volume on the combis in which I travel every day. If I had my car would not be free from his influence. Appears everywhere. I still play down effect. And with radiation poisoning. It's a personal decision.

Maybe tomorrow find its monotonous rhythms, nuanced, fused with other genres so that there is a quality that captivates me. For me and perhaps many more. I rejoice and know that it is not impossible. Meanwhile

humming a song that no one could say that there is paradigmatic in the fusion of rock with huayno. A musical marvel.

is amazing how Simone de Beauvoir remind led me to this song in a really unexpected or rhizome is the most natural, if I ponder the whys. And it was Simone who was born the urge to write this post. Probably evoke the centuries-old charged with vitality and erotic body and mind led me to the territory of the words. Of these words.