Kane: Thursday May 14th, 2009Comments Off

(Español) Lo que necesita la ciencia

(Español) Lo que necesita la ciencia
Sorry, this entry is only available in Spanish.
Guille: Thursday April 30th, 2009Comments Off

(Español) David Low, 13 de septiembre de 1945

(Español) David Low, 13 de septiembre de 1945
Sorry, this entry is only available in Spanish.
Kane: Friday April 24th, 20091

Progressivism

Progressivism
Progressivism is nothing less than the sink through which all the left-wing ideas have drained. Progressivism consists in just achieving the reform or a few social aspects, such as same-sex marriages or affirmative action that favors women, while an unfair economic reality is left intact. Julio Anguita (1941-) El Mundo, 31-03-2006
Guille: Monday April 20th, 2009Comments Off

Joseph Lee, December 5th, 1951

Joseph Lee, December 5th, 1951
After finding out that George Orwell was reading the biographies of Tolstoi, Dickens, Joyve and Dalí in the midst of World War II, a few thoughts unavoidably come to my mind: that I have not read anything by the first three authors and can barely understand the lastone's surrealist universe; that, therefore, between the culture of a genius like Orwell and mine there is a deep rift; that this fact makes my interest in reading War and Peace boost; that I need to go beyond The Persistence of Memory: Dalí is much more than a few melting clocks. Like Orwell, as we are discovering with these articles, he is not limited to a dystopia and a world in which the possibility of criticism does not exist. Finally, it has occurred to me some sort of hypothesis: Orwell might have felt identified with Dali's surrealism. After all, the British author found war and its consequences to share a strange component, something between insouciance and reality, between deceit and the darkest cynicism. Moreover, George Orwell was aware, better than anybody, of the importance of the persistence of memory in a society in which everything tends to fade into oblivion. The cartoon is by ...
Syme: Tuesday March 3rd, 2009Comments Off

As I Please, 21 January 1944

As I Please, 21 January 1944
A correspondent reproaches me with being ‘negative’ and ‘always attacking things’. The fact is that we live in a time when causes for rejoicing are not numerous. But I like praising things, when there is anything to praise, and I would like here to write a few lines—they have to be retrospective, unfortunately—in praise of the Woolworth’s Rose. In the good days when nothing in Woolworth’s cost over sixpence, one of their best lines was their rose bushes. They were always very young plants, but they came into bloom in their second year, and I don’t think I ever had one die on me. Their chief interest was that they were never, or very seldom, what they claimed to be on their labels. One that I bought for a Dorothy Perkins turned out to be a beautiful little white rose with a yellow heart, one of the finest ramblers I have ever seen. A polyantha rose labelled yellow turned out to be deep red. Another, bought for an Abertine, was like an Abertine, but more double, and gave astonishing masses of blossom. These roses had all the interest of a surprise packet, and there was always the chance that you might ...
Syme: Tuesday February 24th, 2009Comments Off

As I Please, 14 January 1944

As I Please, 14 January 1944
The old custom of binding up magazines and periodicals in book form seems to have gone out almost entirely, which is a pity, for a year’s issue of even a very stupid magazine is more readable after a lapse of time than the majority of books. I do not believe I ever had a better bargain than the dozen volumes of the Quarterly Review, starting in 1809, which I once picked up for two shillings at a farmhouse auction; but a good sixpennyworth was a year’s issue of the Cornhill when either Trollope or Thackeray, I forget which, was editing it, and another good buy was some odd volumes of the Gentleman’s Magazine of the mid-sixties, at threepence each. I have also had some happy half-hours with Chambers’s Papers for the People, which flourished in the fifties, the Boy’s Own Paper in the days of the Boer War, the Strand in its great Sherlock Holmes days, and—a book I unfortunately only saw and didn’t buy—a bound volume of the Athenæum in the early twenties, when Middleton Murry was editing it, and T. S. Eliot, E. M. Forster and various others were making their first impact on the big public. I ...

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"You don't expect me," he said, "to revolutionise society on this lawn ?". Syme looked straight into his eyes and smiled sweetly. "No, I don't," he said; "but I suppose that if you were serious about your anarchism, that is exactly what you would do."

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