Sebastian Aviña

“…There are, broadly, five (interconnected) areas that allow man to experience the enjoyment of life; productive work, human relationships, recreation, art, and sex.

Productive work is the most fundamental of these: through his work man gains his basic sense of control over existence - his sense of efficacy - which is the necessary foundation of the ability to enjoy any other value. The man whose life lacks direction or purpose, the man who has no creative goal, necessarily feels helpless and out of control; the man who feels helpless and out of control, feels inadequate to and unfit for existence; and the man who feels unfit for existence is incapable of enjoying it.

One of the hallmarks of a man of self-esteem, who regards the universe as open to his effort, is the profound pleasure he experiences in the productive work of his mind; his enjoyment of life is fed by his unceasing concern to grow in knowledge and ability - to think, to achieve, to move forward, to meet new challenges and overcome them - to earn the pride of a constantly expanding efficacy.

A different kind of soul is revealed by the man who, predominantly, takes pleasure in working only at the routine and familiar, who is inclined to enjoy working in a semi-daze. who sees happiness in freedom from challenge or struggle or effort: the soul of a man profoundly deficient in self-esteem, to whom the universe appears as unknowable and vaguely threatening, the man whose central motivating impulse is a longing for safety, not the safety that is won by efficacy, but the safety of a world in which efficacy is not demanded.

Still a different kind of soul is revealed by the man who finds it inconceivable that work - any form of work - can be enjoyable, who regards the effort of earning a living as a necessary evil, who dreams only of the pleasures that begin when the workday ends, the pleasure of drowning his brain in alcohol or television or billiards or women, the pleasure of not being conscious: the soul of a man with scarcely a shred of self-esteem, who never expected the universe to be comprehensible and takes his lethargic dread of it for granted, and whose only form of relief and only notion of enjoyment is the dim flicker of undemanding sensations.

Still another kind of soul is revealed by the main who takes pleasure, not in achievement, but in destruction, whose action is aimed, not at attaining efficacy, but as ruling those who have attained it: the soul of a man so abjectly lacking in self-value, and so overwhelmed by terror of existence, that his sole form of self-fulfillment is to unleash his resentment and hatred against those who do not share his state, those who are able to live - as if, he could convert impotence into efficacy.

A rational, self-confident man is motivated by a love of values and a desire to achieve them. A neurotic is motivated by fear and a desire to escape it. This difference in motivation is reflected, not only in the things each type of man will seek for pleasure, but in the nature of the pleasure they will experience.

The emotional quality of the pleasure experienced by the four men described above, for instance, is not the same. The quality of any pleasure depends on the mental processes that give rise to and attend it, and on the nature of the values involved…”

Pasan los años, uno después de otro, todos llenos de nuevas experiencias y nuevas aventuras, y con cada año que termina, no importa que viva, o que pase, cada vez que me pienso, me doy cuenta que sigo siendo el mismo. Que mis ideas no han cambiado y que mis motivaciones siguen siendo las mismas.

Tal vez los sueños cambian, tal vez las metas y los retos que enfrento día a día, son diferentes. Pero yo sigo siendo el mismo. Sigo queriendo lo mismo de mi, sigo deseando lo mismo y mis valores, mis ideas, permanecen inmutables, inalterables con el paso del tiempo.

Como todas las personas, hay cosas que creo saber y cosas que creo comprender.

Antes, por ejemplo, pensaba que todos nacíamos iguales, tal vez unos altos y otros weros, unos morenos otros blancos, pero todos iguales. Qué somos una libreta en blanco, todos con la misma capacidad, lista para ser desarrollada a su máximo potencial. Listos para desarrollar cuanta habilidad se requiera y vencer cuánto reto se enfrente.

Después, comencé a creer en las capacidades diferentes. Es cierto que hay niños con capacidades especiales, para los cuáles un Teleton es necesario, entonces, ¿por qué no habría un anti tesis de un niño Teleton?. Estoy seguro y estoy convencido que hay gente que nace con una capacidad mayor a la de todos los demás, pero que si a este no se le presentan las oportunidades necesarias, tal vez pudiese tener la capacidad para cualquier cosa, pero sin un ambiente propicio, tal vez termine de albañil. (un extraordinario albañil, seguramente).

Ahora... creo que no solo nacemos con capacidades diferentes, y que nuestro entorno nos hace diferentes... Ademas creo que nacemos predispuestos a ciertas conductas, a ciertas lineas de pensamientos, a ciertas ideas... Y es esa unión de tres factores, lo que nos forma como personas.

Es una idea loca, tal vez descabellada y para muchos, seguramente innecesaria. Por lo que no profundizo en el tema seguido, no tiene caso.

Sin embargo, hay algo en ti que me sacudió un poco, y fue el conocer tú manera de pensar. Tal vez nunca me anime a decírtelo, por no pecar de falta de tacto, pero durante esas contadas y cortas platicas que tuvimos, me pareció encontrar algo en ti que me parecía familiar. Me pareció encontrar ideas mías, y conductas mías, que no suelo encontrar en otras personas.

Realmente me sorprendiste.

Sentía que nos parecíamos mucho, pero aunque me perturbo un poco semejante descubrimiento, un sentimiento de curiosidad por saber más de ti me invadió.

Darme cuenta, que como yo, tienes ese gusto por pensar, tal vez demasiado, las cosas... Dicen que hay cierto placer en la locura, que solo los locos comprenden... y por lo poco que tuve la oportunidad de conocerte, me parece que, como yo, disfrutas mucho esas mal-viajadas, en donde concilias ideas viejas erradas, por nuevas ideas equivocadas.

Ahora que estas a punto de partir a estudiar fuera, me haz hecho recordar un poco sobre las circunstancias que viví cuándo partí a estudiar a Monterrey (irte a estudiar a Torreón, no es gran cosa, realmente), y de como esos años en Monterrey me hicieron cambiar.

La verdad, Janet, me gustaría mucho seguir en contacto contigo, ocasionalmente, y acompañarte en este viaje que estas a punto de aprender, no fue difícil darme cuenta que faltaba un par de semanas para que te fueras a México, y que posiblemente, estaba yo pisando en territorio peligroso... Esa parte, en realidad, me agradaba mucho. Saber que solo nos veríamos de vez en cuándo y siempre para platicarnos cosas nuevas e interesantes...

En alguna ocasión que salimos, dijiste "me hace mucho bien salir contigo". No quise decir lo mismo por temor a que sonara cursi, pero a mi tambien me hacia mucho bien salir contigo.

Besos y abrazos.

So today I decided to delete my Facebook account.

Why do I choose to do so?

My experience with Facebook began on 2006. Those days I used to live with my girlfriend Chelita, I used to surf the web at night before going to bed and I recall one time I was reading a Digg article about something like MySpace, but better.

On those days there was a lot of Buzz around MySpace, and it looked like Geocities reborn: A bunch of bad-looking personal webpages...

Facebook was different: The article explained that the extremely famous high school-yearbook I see so much on US movies and TV Shows was about to die.

Why?: Because facebook was about to kill it.

Puzzled I decided to join Facebook.

I spent a while that night entering my information on FB. On those days the sign up form was quite long, and I remember my girlfriend calling me to bed in the middle of the process.

A year, or two, passed by, I broke up with Chelita and life goes on... Then, one day, everybody in Mexico and all of my friends started to join Facebook, and I started stalking them constantly on the Internet... It all happened so slowly, that I never noticed the terrible habit I was developing until the day I broke up with another girlfriend.

It was late 2008, and I constantly visited her Facebook profile after the break up... I then realized it was not healthy, that it was time to move on, and that It was plain wrong stalcking people... Then I started questioning myself, Why do I need to publish my info to the world to see it?

I managed to block out most of my profile through Facebook security tool.

But the issue continued evolving on my head through a couple months. Turns out that I didn't find any good reason to keep Facebook. Who cares where I live? Which are my favorite movies? Which of my friends partied with me last weekend? I recalled a term I readed on Internet some time ago I think in a Reddit comment... It was about the Ego-Web.

It happens that Web 2.0 it's not about fancy Ajax animations, beautiful gradients, and fancy graphics bouncing here & there... Is about user generated content... But not any kind of content... It's content that people writes hoping everybody sees and approve of it... How many times have I written a Reddit comment just hoping to get upvoted and everybody likes it? What do I get from it?

Maybe it's the illusion of sharing knowledge. Maybe reddit, digg or hacker news are the new place where humans share phylosophical ideas, something like the ancient greek square, where Plato and big philosophers spread out their ideas, listen to new ones, and if everybody knows about them, and judge them, we will end with a better world, with more informated people, with more objective points of view. After all, as Churchill once said: "The biggest argument against democracy is a five minute discussion with the average voter.",

But what really happens is quite dissapointing: The internet has evolved in a Meme-culture, where people use words like "FAIL" as full sentences, and eloquent, smart comments are becoming obsolete. It's all about to make the right joke at the right time...

And it get worst, not only people lose interest in sharing ideas and Thoughts: Now people just want to twit trivial and non-interesting things.

They update their Facebook status with just some random words, and upload photos of their common lifes, hoping everybody sees them and think how cool they are.

The worst part of all? I watch them. And spend my time on it.

All day long, everytime I open a new Chrome tab, there is a Facebook icon inviting me to read non-sense statuses, watch common-life photographs, and stalk almost everybody I know.

Do I really need to know what has happened to every single person I've met on my life?

I don't think so.

I neither think all of them need to know everything about me

So today I decided to delete my Facebook account, and if you want to share a photo with me or know how I am, send me a Wave.

Once upon a time there lived a vain Emperor whose only worry in life was to dress in elegant clothes. He changed clothes almost every hour and loved to show them off to his people.

Word of the Emperor's refined habits spread over his kingdom and beyond. Two scoundrels who had heard of the Emperor's vanity decided to take advantage of it. They introduced themselves at the gates of the palace with a scheme in mind.

"We are two very good tailors and after many years of research we have invented an extraordinary method to weave a cloth so light and fine that it looks invisible. As a matter of fact it is invisible to anyone who is too stupid and incompetent to appreciate its quality."

The chief of the guards heard the scoundrel's strange story and sent for the court chamberlain. The chamberlain notified the prime minister, who ran to the Emperor and disclosed the incredible news. The Emperor's curiosity got the better of him and he decided to see the two scoundrels.

"Besides being invisible, your Highness, this cloth will be woven in colors and patterns created especially for you." The emperor gave the two men a bag of gold coins in exchange for their promise to begin working on the fabric immediately.

"Just tell us what you need to get started and we'll give it to you." The two scoundrels asked for a loom, silk, gold thread and then pretended to begin working. The Emperor thought he had spent his money quite well: in addition to getting a new extraordinary suit, he would discover which of his subjects were ignorant and incompetent. A few days later, he called the old and wise prime minister, who was considered by everyone as a man with common sense.

"Go and see how the work is proceeding," the Emperor told him, "and come back to let me know."

The prime minister was welcomed by the two scoundrels.

"We're almost finished, but we need a lot more gold thread. Here, Excellency! Admire the colors, feel the softness!" The old man bent over the loom and tried to see the fabric that was not there. He felt cold sweat on his forehead.

"I can't see anything," he thought. "If I see nothing, that means I'm stupid! Or, worse, incompetent!" If the prime minister admitted that he didn't see anything, he would be discharged from his office.

"What a marvelous fabric, he said then. "I'll certainly tell the Emperor." The two scoundrels rubbed their hands gleefully. They had almost made it. More thread was requested to finish the work.

Finally, the Emperor received the announcement that the two tailors had come to take all the measurements needed to sew his new suit.

"Come in," the Emperor ordered. Even as they bowed, the two scoundrels pretended to be holding large roll of fabric.

"Here it is your Highness, the result of our labour," the scoundrels said. "We have worked night and day but, at last, the most beautiful fabric in the world is ready for you. Look at the colors and feel how fine it is." Of course the Emperor did not see any colors and could not feel any cloth between his fingers. He panicked and felt like fainting. But luckily the throne was right behind him and he sat down. But when he realized that no one could know that he did not see the fabric, he felt better. Nobody could find out he was stupid and incompetent. And the Emperor didn't know that everybody else around him thought and did the very same thing.

The farce continued as the two scoundrels had foreseen it. Once they had taken the measurements, the two began cutting the air with scissors while sewing with their needles an invisible cloth. "Your Highness, you'll have to take off your clothes to try on your new ones." The two scoundrels draped the new clothes on him and then held up a mirror. The Emperor was embarrassed but since none of his bystanders were, he felt relieved.

"Yes, this is a beautiful suit and it looks very good on me," the Emperor said trying to look comfortable. "You've done a fine job."

"Your Majesty," the prime minister said, "we have a request for you. The people have found out about this extraordinary fabric and they are anxious to see you in your new suit." The Emperor was doubtful showing himself naked to the people, but then he abandoned his fears. After all, no one would know about it except the ignorant and the incompetent.

"All right," he said. "I will grant the people this privilege." He summoned his carriage and the ceremonial parade was formed. A group of dignitaries walked at the very front of the procession and anxiously scrutinized the faces of the people in the street. All the people had gathered in the main square, pushing and shoving to get a better look. An applause welcomed the regal procession. Everyone wanted to know how stupid or incompetent his or her neighbor was but, as the Emperor passed, a strange murmur rose from the crowd.

Everyone said, loud enough for the others to hear: "Look at the Emperor's new clothes. They're beautiful!"

"What a marvellous train!"

"And the colors! The colors of that beautiful fabric! I have never seen anything like it in my life!" They all tried to conceal their disappointment at not being able to see the clothes, and since nobody was willing to admit his own stupidity and incompetence, they all behaved as the two scoundrels had predicted.

A child, however, who had no important job and could only see things as his eyes showed them to him, went up to the carriage.

"The Emperor is naked," he said.

"Fool!" his father reprimanded, running after him. "Don't talk nonsense!" He grabbed his child and took him away. But the boy's remark, which had been heard by the bystanders, was repeated over and over again until everyone cried:

"The boy is right! The Emperor is naked! It's true!"

The Emperor realized that the people were right but could not admit to that. He thought it better to continue the procession under the illusion that anyone who couldn't see his clothes was either stupid or incompetent. And he stood stiffly on his carriage, while behind him a page held his imaginary mantle.

-- Hans Christian Anderson

I wake up at 3am, my dad is coughing loud and often, I go running to his bedroom, and found my mother yelling half hysterical half crazy to him. She doesn't know what's wrong with him, me neither, we are both freaked out, I run to the phone to call to an ambulance, but my dad stops me, he says he is O.k.

My hearth is pumping quickly for the alarm., I'm really freaked out. --Just yesterday I was watching live TV, listening to José Angel Cordova, México's minister of health, he was explaining they delayed the alert because they didn't knew what was happening, they thought it was just a simple seasonal influenza, and then they got suspicious, sent some samples to Denver, and discovered it was not a seasonal influenza, and it was really a new virus, that they don't know when it's going to stop, and what signs will tell us it's stoping, because they don't know anything about this virus, they are working with limited information, and they use the words "remember, it's a new virus, we don't know what's going on" maybe too often. He suddenly stayed quiet for a couple seconds without a reason, I watched him, kind of puzzled for his silence, then he said "Yeah, the last thing we need, it's a earthquake", and almost instantly, at the bottom of the screen, next to CNN's logo, appeared a message "BREAKING: Earthquake on Mexico City". I couldn't believe it, it was like a nightmare, I had this urge to cry, or to laugh. I didn't know. I just felt sad.--

I checked my dad for a couple minutes, we talked a little bit, and after I felt sure he was Ok, I went to sleep again.

I go to bed and for two hours I just stayed quiet listening to the silence, worried for my dad, hoping he don't cough again.

At 5 on the morning I stand up, go downstairs for my breakfast, and turn on the TV. The first thing I see is a rerun of a TV show from yesterday, they are discussing the repercussions on the economy and on society of a general shutdown.

For a minute or two I feel I'm still dreaming, but then I just thinked, thank god this is a rerun and there are no surprise earthquakes at the middle of the show.

I can't believe they are actually thinking on a general shutdown on all the country... After all, all schools, bars, coffees, and recreational centers are closed until May 6, but shutting down the entire industry, that's just so insane.

Just after my coffee and my breakfast, I turned off the the TV and get dressed for the gym, the boys that sell newspapers on the corners are gone, and the sporadic ones, wear a mask.

When I arrive to the gym, I discover, without surprise, that it's closed, I drive home again, thinking on this new disease that appeared just a couple weeks ago and that is driving the full country --maybe the full world-- crazy.

On my way home, I found a lot of cops, and ambulances all over one of the main streets of my city... Just another shooting, as usual, I drive carefully on the remaining lanes, and that's when I remember it's not just a pandemic disease, or a 5.7 earthquake on Mexico City, it's also a global financial crisis, a global food crisis, and also I'm in a country in the middle of a war against drugs where it's no longer a surprise to find out an police operative picking up bodies after a shooting on my city downtown.

Some weeks ago, I was annoyed for all those special programs about the apocalypse on History and Discovery Channel, I just don't care what Nostradamus dreamed 500 years ago, or what the Mayans wrote on a stone, but now, it really feels like the apocalypse.