Speech at USMA
I talked about this last week (sorry guys, too lazy to look up the link to the post, reasons further below) but yesterday Magnus picked me up and took me to his college so that I talk to a pretty-much-packed room of students about myself. I was trained in the arts of public speaking but, just like many things they teach you in institutions you go to after going to high school, they’re worth shit once you’re in the trenches running past bullets and landmines. The crowd was a lot more laidback than I had anticipated; the paranoid in me feared the worst… a relentless, vicious crowd of 20-somethings looking to rip this young lad a new asshole from trying to play “artist.” What I’ve learned is that it’s all about the image you portray, both in appearance and in personality so instead of going the tried-and-true route of going in a buttoned tee and a tie I went Emo (I suppose, even though I don’t particularly feel Emo at all but that’s a whole other editorial in and of itself) and got my jeans, my checkered slip-ons which I love so much, my “I steal music from the Internet” tee and a buttoned shirt underneath, complemented by my always-reliable visor beanie. Off we went: I started my speech as soon as I walked in the door, pretty much, to a crowd that for the most part I managed to keep interested with my insane ramblings. Talked about getting the book out, the problems I had when it came to promotion, other stuff I’ve published and we also showed the “Dislate del Ser” short film I did with Key-K (which by the way I’ll get off my ass and post here soon). After that was a Q-A round; I was asked about the title of the 2004 release “Mada Faká” and I explained that it came from a song by The Illya Kuryaki and the Valderramas called “Ninja Mental.” its lyrics, as evidence:
Supe la habitación vi que estaba congelada otro suicidio del mar que amas tu lágrima selló un escape a la nada encegueciendo nuestro don Cae la promesa del que el cielo sea tu almohada Mientras dormirás aquí la trampa es dulce y febril deja que te cuente ninja mental si no es en el bosque es aquí bajo el puente se encuentra el fin si tu no me amas, mada faká hoy las tormentas rezaran por ti a mi lado Cansado estoy de nadar en esta fauna que me habla quizás nunca fue real besarte el frío es casi mortal sigue hablando de mi alma existirá algún lugar mas limpio cae la promesa de que el cielo sea tu alma Mientras dormirás aquí la trampa es dulce y febril deja que te cuente ninja mental si no es en el bosque es aquí bajo el puente se encuentra el fin si tu no me amas, mada faká Sobre los labios en secreto nace tu estrella ninja mental Mientras dormirás aquí la trampa es dulce y febril deja que te cuente ninja mental si no es en el bosque es aquí bajo el puente se encuentra el fin si tu no me amas, mada faká Cae la promesa de que el cielo envuelva la nada
I identified a great deal with this song at the time I was writing it, since I was getting over a girl. My capacity to forget is practically non-existent so it was a rough patch and it still kind of makes me cringe when the occasion arises that I have to talk about it even though I downright indifferent with her and even tried my particular brand of irreverence with her without remorse, only to see how far I could go. I care for her a great deal though; the sort of thing you wish you didn’t have as a carry-on but you do so what the hell. Anyway, I managed to convince a couple of girls to get the book and pursue poetry as more than a hobby so I can most definitely say “mission accomplished.” The professor seemed rather invested as well, so that’s always a plus. I most definitely whored out my chunk of the Internet as well so if you’re from the class from yesterday, Thursday 27th, greetings. I hope you enjoy the site and come back regularly.
We had some beers at Lum’s, then at the Benni’s tavern with the Canadians. Calle Uruguay at 8PM is almost unrecognizable with the lack of honking, people and cars… I had a burger and an arepa from the cool cats who have a stand on the side of the road right in front of bar Unplugged, one that I swear to all that’s holy it looks like something that came out of Isla Colón in Bocas del Toro. Anyway, I just wanted to post on how it went. The real editorial’s coming down the pipe later today so linger about; there’s cokes and beer in the fridge, chips and dip in the cupboard and the phone’s on top of the book pile next to the PS2. Make yourself at home.
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