ebrio como poeta en día de paga

ebrio como poeta en día de paga

 

-Lindsay Cahill, traducción por Francisco Benavides

Pablo Neruda dijo que la risa es el lenguaje del alma…
Lo sé— conozco la obra de Pablo Neruda,
y como su presidente, exigiría una biblioteca de ciencia ficción
que tenga todo lo mejor de los maestros del género: Asimov, Bester, Clarke…
pero no Ray Bradbury…

es el Club de libros de Lisa Simpson—
Poe, Ginsberg, Kerouac.
éstos son mis únicos amigos—
ñoños adultos como Gore Vidal,
y hasta él ha besado más niños que yo…
pero la soledad no ha matado a nadie:
Emily Dickinson vivía sola
y escribió algunos de los poemas
más bellos que ha conocido el mundo…
luego se volvió loca y se murió.

fue la Sra. Bouvier quien hizo enojar a sus amigas
Zelda Fitzgerald y Sylvia Plath
acaparando la atención de los muchachos;
pero no seas tímida— cuando yo tenía tu edad,
se burlaban de mí porque leía mejor que todos…
odié El burrito y yo
es para retrasados.
es la Escuela Ayn Rand para Nenes
donde la A es A, y la Ayuda es Fútil.
y me gustaría recordarles que el libro
“La lotería” de Shirley Jackson
no tiene consejos para ganar la lotería ̶
es una historia sobre conformismo y ambición…

el pavo está un poco seco
¡el pavo está un poco seco!
¡oh no la maldición sigue!
¡qué demonio de las profundidades del mal te ha creado!

¡la verdad es belleza; la belleza es verdad, señor!
pero la verdad puede ser muy amarga ̶
¿cómo puede ser bello algo así?
maldito Walt Whitman—
¡te odio, maldito Walt Whitman!
¡Hojas de hierba mis polainas!

adiós, Springfield—
os digo adiós
y buen viaje al infierno.

drunk as a poet on payday

-By Lindsay Cahill

Pablo Neruda said that laughter is the language of the soul…
I know— I am familiar with the works of Pablo Neruda,
and as your president, I would demand a science-fiction library
with an A-B-C of the genre: Asimov, Bester, Clarke…
but no Ray Bradbury…

it’s the Lisa Simpson Book Club—
Poe, Ginsberg, Kerouac.
those are my only friends—
grown-up nerds like Gore Vidal,
and even he’s kissed more boys than I ever will…
but solitude never hurt anyone:
Emily Dickinson lived alone,
and she wrote some of the most
beautiful poetry the world has ever known…
then went crazy as a loon.

and it was Mrs. Bouvier, y’know, who drove her friends,
Zelda Fitzgerald and Sylvia Plath, so crazy
with jealousy over her good looks;
but don’t be bashful— when I was your age,
kids made fun of me because I read at the ninth-grade level…
although, I hardly consider A Separate Peace the ninth-grade level.
pssht, more like pre-school.
it’s the Ayn Rand School for Tots
where A is A, and Helping is Futile.
and I’d just like to remind you that Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”
does not contain any hints on how to win the lottery—
it is rather a chilling tale of conformity gone mad:

the turkey’s a little dry?
the turkey’s a little dry!
oh, foe, the cursed teeth!
what demon from the depths of hell created thee?

truth is beauty; beauty, truth, sir!
but the truth can be harsh and disturbing—
how can that be considered beautiful?
oh, damn you, Walt Whitman—
damn-you-Walt-freaking-Whitman!
Leaves of Grass, my ass!

goodbye, Springfield—
from hell’s heart
I stab at thee.

 

More from Lindsay Cahill: http://lindsaycahill.tumblr.com

 

El lugar más krustdivertido de la Tierra

El lugar más krustdivertido de la Tierra
-Lindsay Cahill

Llamada para el señor payaso,
hay Krisis en el Kampo Krusty
¡Maldita sea! ¡al hidroplano!
cállate y come tu pino.
el programa exclusivo de dieta y ridículo.
ah, los esplendores bucólicos
de un muladar abandonado
convertidos en un orfanato dickensiano:
9 de cada 10 huérfanos no notan la diferencia.

Fuerza. Fuerza. Agilidad.

gracias, muñeca, por tus instrumentos de destrucción ̶
un grupo de espartacos escolapios
ha tomado el campo por la fuerza.

arde, Krusty, arde ̶
su autobiografía estaba llena de pretensiones
y omisiones,
pero nos va a traer comida,
y agua,
y va a acabar con los malos.
no había visto tanta anarquía
desde la caída de Saigón.
el esfuerzo de escribir me ha mareado un poco,
así que me despido diciendo ¡Sálvenos!
¡Sálvenos ahora!

Al menos puedes ir a un campo de concentración.

 

-“Traducción” por Francisco Benavides

 

 

The Krustiest Place On Earth

-Lindsay Cahill

Urgent call for Mr. Clown,
there’s a Krisis at Kamp Krusty ̶
oy gevalt! to the hydrofoil!
shut-up ande at your pinecone:
the exclusive program of diet and ridicule.
ah, the bucolic splendours of
an abandoned mule Connery
turned Dickensian workhouse:
9 out of 10 orphans can’t tell the difference.

Size. Strenght. Agility.

much obliged, doll, for your implements of destruction ̶
a group of school-aged Spartacuses
have taken the camp by force.

burn, Krusty, burn-
his autobiography was self-serving
with many glaring omissions,
but he’s gonna bring us food,
and water,
and smite our enemies.
why, I haven’t seen such unfettered
hurly burly since The Fall of Saigon.
now the effort of writing has made me lightheaded,
so I close by saying Save us!
Save us now!

It’s going to be a D-lightful summer.

 

More from Lindsay Cahill on:  http://lindsaycahill.tumblr.com

Sharing The Cat or Who Killed Curiosity

Sharing The Cat or  Who Killed Curiosity

War is peace.
Freedom is slavery.
Ignorance is strenght.

George Orwell, 1984

I. Brain-Washed People : Revelations

It’s a fact that the Internet is a wonderful human invention, a magical tool, an open window and a master key. You can go and take a look at whatever you want with just a click. From Canada to China, from New Zealand to the deep space: your curiosity and thirst of knowledge are the only limits. However, this magical tool is oversaturated with information (true, fake, middle ground) and people tend to splash into it just to look what’s new on social media. Where did the natural curiosity go? Who killed it? We don’t need to think too much —if we still can— to realize how harmful social media can be, and how it has helped to create a new race of brain-washed humans.

As George Orwell and Ray Bradbury feared a society full controlled by the ones in charge and a culture manipulated by lack of information, Aldous Huxley envisaged a dystopian future (unfortunately, our present) of a brain-washed humans unable to think for themselves, as a result of being overfilled (attacked, if you will) by information. As a matter of fact, when the human brain receives large amounts of information with no time enough to proccess it, it can start to feel a strong need to rest. The same happens with our brand new gods we call computers, the difference between us is that our mind resting stage seems to be permanent. TV, Internet and social media have been ruling with plasma fist the minds of humans consumers for a long time, and the control and power they have reached is sadly unmeasurable.

The strategy to follow has been quite simple. The huge amount of information available on media is such impressive that average people prefer to switch to something easier to understand, that’s the key of Twitter’s success: social media users don’t want to read more than a paragraph, it’s easier and funnier to share pictures of cats trying to dominate the world, instead of trying to find out who’s dominating who. Aren’t we Facebook and Twitter slaves? In science fiction books and movies humans fear to be watched by the government, nowadays, we need an e-mail account to be part of the system, and what is worst, we want to be seen and part of it. Why to be part of a system who opresses the poor and destroys the planet we live in? We see murdered people in the news, people starving to death in documentaries and misery and unjustice down the streets and we do nothing against it but scroll down the page. Is everything world’s governments faults? Is it human condition? Well, some say the number of the beast is the number of a man, computed after the usual manner among men…Here is wisdom. He who has understanding, let him calculate it.

II. Be Yourself(ie)

Since you were a child, you were bombarded with all kinds of adds, you’ve watched many TV programs that have showed you a hiperrealistic world that exists only on screen. As a result, you want to be like those botox people, eat plastic food and look at the world like if it was fake. Your reality is unbearable, but you have another life way better: a world where you are the center of everything, where you are an artist, where you’re a model, where you decide what to see, where you add or eliminate your friends with just the power of a right click, a world where nobody can say “I don’t like you”. A Fake New World.

Before you were born, your screen gods were working hard to build up a perfect place for you where you can feel free to buy whatever you want -or whatever you can- and not to worry about anything else. They create your needings and upgrade them everyday, manipulate your thoughts in order to get the perfect living dead consumer. You may think you’re thinking by yourself. You may think you’re free, because other countries are worse than yours.

You have the right to live your own life and satisfy your basic needs such as a new iPad or cellphone. You have the right to share and post as many cats as you want, to take pictures of your food, to tell the world where and who are you with and what are you doing. The snipers are pointing at you, but they’re not going to shoot unless you take a wrong step. That’s the cost of freedom. You signed it. And Google knows it.

III. The Screen is on Fire

Few hours after the attacks in Paris on the night of Friday 13 November, 2015, Facebook “suggested” users to use a filter with the french flag to “support” the attacked country. Many people followed Mr. Zuckerberg’s suggestion and changed their profile pictures even though they had no idea of what was happening, a lot of them from countries that France has invaded, attacked or tried to enslave in recent or ancient times.

Social media showed its power once again: people followed the filter as a fancy trend topic, and showed a very human ephemeral compassion to the victims and zero curiosity about the origin of the conflict. Regarding the powerful, trying to earn a seat by their side, at least, on media.

Few days later, French army bombarded children’s hospitals and schools in Syria. They did it again: they turned people on the side of the evil ones before they were “The evil ones”. Of course Facebook didn’t offer the chance to change your profile picture again and support Syrian people this time. In that case, who would have picked the Syrian filter?

War is about oil, which largest reserves are located in Middle East, and to know it takes just a click, the right click. But when we click, we usually prefer to do it wisely and go to Netflix and watch our favourite characters and superheroes fighting in a world where even the dead and the poor are good-looking.

Anyway, if we want a taste of reality, we can always go on Facebook and that’s it. It takes just a click to be happy. After all nothing is happening to us, everything’s just on the screen, that wonderful space we have to keep on sharing the cat.