Composite blog consisting of notes, reflections, weird jokes, trip reports and amusing stories from the death row; some personal, some told and some fabricated, I have to reckon!

BEWARE!! This is neither a porno nor a politically correct site... more probably is a highly misanthropic and overtly cynical terminal account

Ridendo castigat mores, that I freely translate as ”humor improves behavior” , not that I believe, but it sounds nice!

From The Death Row

11
Dec
2017
0
Sticky Post

The Exit

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Biased attitudes, genuine lies, fair sarcasm, and dogmatic insanity will be vigorously at work here any time that some unpleasant truths, most of them are, will have to be ruthlessly and cautiously dished. For sure, with some restraint, Read More

10
Dec
2017
0
Sticky Post

The Happy-End

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In a couple of months, I hope to move officially to DEATH ROW. Will I be asked from above if I have some preference I will say that I would like to join the Read More

11
Mar
2017
0
Sticky Post

Danarel, the Conjurer and the King Stork

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Some who may receive a copy of this letter don’t know who is Danarel. Discreetly, I inform everybody that he is my guardian angel. When it was more or less clear that I should come into being, my mother, the CONJURER, who was also a first rung ESPER (extra sensorial perception), a TRUE BELIEVER and THE LEADER OF THE PEOPLE, did something that had zero chances to succeed. She was desperate. She knew that age and situation, the Second World War was on the way, will not allow her to have more than one child. She also sensate that the package coming, me, will be a quite violent guy, not very easy to raise. Also she felt that things may go after the war from bad to worse. They did, the Nazi left so to say but the Communist regime that came after was not less ferocious. Read More

3
May
2018
0

Ecuador Monogatari, la séptima maleta, Galapagos 2

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Charly and the reptile kings of Galapagos, part two

 

Dear Danarel

When I arrived to Isabela the driver was unable to find  the hotel. I wanted to strangle him but he ran away without asking for the fee.  I found the hotel with local help and compulsive asking. It had another name than on the booking site. I understood that people are not too formalist in the islands, you keep away from iguana and everything will be OK.  The hostel was a kind of Mediterranean, improved, Read More

4
May
2018
0

The Canyon of the Dying Arches, part two

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Dear Danarel,

 

The next day the Rolling Stones team split.  The youngest member, K. expressed vehemently the desire to undertake a thrilling ride upon parts of the canyon from above. It seems that the mighty seven years old knew that a local company (Zip line something),  for a decent retribution, offers these harnessed bullet slide trip from one ridge to another for an amount of time that is ninety percent physical and mental preparation and ten percent actual glide. The issue is harmless with the condition that the parcel, Read More

4
May
2018
0

Ecuador Monogatari, la sexta maleta

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La Nariz del Diablo 

 

Dear Danarel,

children, relatives and precious friends

 

I have a problem. Sure, it is one  of many. But let’s go into the concrete. I took a tour at a place called Nariz del Diablo (the nostril of the devil). I agree that it does not either sounds or smells good. It is evocative of a tourist trap, stupid trap for stupid tourists. Not for me I guess, but I took it. It was an act of outdated interest in Devil. As you know I am not a believer, that being a kind of understatement, but I keenly follow cultural fads and beliefs, just in order, please be discrete, to have a little bit of fun. Now the Devil, once a mighty ectoplasmic contraption and a backbone of the Christian, especially, cultist tradition, leading to some wild sexual intercourse, sometimes of the bestial kind, vicious executions, free torture, mutual excommunication, alliance breaking, political manipulation  and endless temptations, even saints were frequently lured into sin,  fell, out of fashion. Gone are the sharp horns surging from the often black curly mane, the satyr smile, the goatee,  the cleft hooves, the shiny blackish or reddish complexion (you will have trouble to find a lightly coloured one in the rich Christian and not-Christian iconography) and often a quite nervous sometimes well-hidden tail ending in a mighty tuff. Except some weird cultists of the Manson criminal type nobody cares for Devil anymore, people are all LOVE & GOD,  and when they have some atrocities to do, they do not take lessons from ANYBODY.  Read More

6
May
2018
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Ecuador Monogatari, la séptima maleta, Galapagos 3

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Charly and the reptile kings of Galapagos, part three

 

Dear Danarel,

 

As  I already  told,  in the  Santa Cruz market,  Mr. Muscle, alias the mighty seal, does not rule alone. There is company. I am not speaking about people. They are an unavoidable bore. I know, that they are reflecting me like a multiple mirror, which deforms images and it is still very reliable. It tells   that  I am Read More

10
May
2018
0

Peru Monogatari, The Colca Canyon, la octava maleta,  part two

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I am a lion, part 2

Plunge to Sangallo: hope, despair and rescue

 

Dear Danarel,

Then, with some difficulty, I am getting back in time, I decided to go to  the Mirador (a viewing point) near the shabby Plaza de Toros to look to the path plunging to Sangalle and weight my odds. It shocked me mightily that such a miserable village is spending its  last pennies by indulging itself in four days of Read More

17
May
2018
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Back to King Solomon, through Sequoia National Monument

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Instead of obituary

 

Dear Danarel,

With your permission I will do a kind of abstract for the people who are in a hurry. It says that I left my son’s home of  Silicon Valley, the  brain farm for computer scientists and  sleeping quarters (rent at ridiculously high price)  of the Indian and the Israeli Foreign Legion, which is the strike force of the of a dozen fo  HiTech giants looming around. My intention Read More

20
May
2018
0

Aux Caraïbes, sur les genoux de l’Eternité

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Le Cimetière de Morne-à-l’Eau

                                                                                        Reportage dédié à M. Imperator, grand ami et éditeur émérite                                                                                          

Mes chers enfants (parents et amis)

Avant-propos: ce morceau drolatique (il se veut tel) est une vieille histoire, mais son sujet, un cimetière qui est allé au-delà de sa fonction traditionnelle, celle de garder les dépouilles à l’abri des charognards de surface, et éventuellement d’exprimer la détresse (quelquefois la liesse) des familiers,(et pourquoi pas?) gérer une forme de mémoire,  a ajouté une autre dimension a sa raison d’être,  celle d’une recherche esthétique bien définie, spontanée, à la fois abstraite (division op art)  et naïve. Je n’ai pas pu résister à l’appât d’admirer cette Read More