Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Nyong Kong, the child who survived the vulture
Last days I readed the news about the child who survived the vulture, and the photographer, Kevin Karter... And i rescue something that i wrote some day...
In the XXI century still trying to define good and evil, right and wrong, ultimately, the ethical and unethical. Millions of years of evolution haven´t helped us to learn what parameters should govern our existence. And on that subject is ultimately both work and life of Kevin Carter. A choice between living doing good, but not our work, or continue with our fate, though this evil is stronger than others.
Like everything else, depends on your point of view from which you look, life have more than two colors, is full of nuances that radically change any parameter. Is a photographer guilty of letting a child die doing their job? Or perhaps we are all guilty of letting it die?
That is the issue, blaming the need for third parties as we know it's really our fault. Try to leave our conscience in exchange for life stigmatize those around us.
Kevin Carter's life was like any of us who live in wealthy countries, we have everything we need, those who do not care about if I have to eat tomorrow or if it is possible to die of hunger. Something as basic as food is no longer a concern. We believe that a person can not die from simple starvation, and it is hard to realize that people die in large numbers as well, simply because they have nothing to eat. And the pain inherent to our existence, knowing that we are fortunate and others are not, makes us avoid what we do not like, just so that we avoid touching something hot because we know it hurts, we are not stupid, not we play, and therefore we prefer to look the other way on certain issues.
The consciences of people were affected with a picture of Kevin Carter in the war in Chad, most of the U.S. population was not aware of that country, perhaps not even feel pleasure or satisfaction to learn that this place existed. But what if pain is felt at the sight of a vulture stalking to finish devouring a dying child, such as those around us in the parks, which protect, cherish, in short, a more than us. Perhaps thinking that we could be ourselves, to one of our children could be such a creature trying to rise to live, but had no chance, saw its extreme thinness, weakness, face of death.
And that's what is surely appreciated the jury that awarded the Pulitzer Prize photographer, how to capture a global sense of humanity. Nobody stopped to assess the real significance of the picture, what really happened. It was not ready, was the fact it was a little girl was already dead, that when given the award he had already been eaten, however hard it may seem, as have so many critters in the area.
Kevin knew he had seen death many times in all armed conflicts covered. It had become a tough guy, separating what was his life's work, even a paradox, since it is possible that the fall in the drug world had to do with trying to escape the pain in the first person who suffered a daily.
He knew what he was photographing the dead, what was the pain, what they had conflicts of ideas, was killed men, women and children, beating until the last breath of his countrymen, but there came a time when everything passed. So he took his life could not continue tormenting the facts daily living, could not overcome the consciences of those who appreciated his work one day end up carrying on his. And to tell this, one must begin from the end to tell the origin.
Death. That's the word that governed the end of his days as a summary of what had been a big part of his life. His last moments were devoted to write a note to friends and family expressing his great love for others and the distress of his person. I could not live longer, should not live longer.
The reviews were greedy, how it was possible that death had left the girl in Chad? But the question that did not was if I could save her, if she had actually saved or opened wounds in the population. If, thanks to that picture to him, this girl will never know his name others were saved. Maybe that girl is a hero, a martyr of the twentieth century, and he, the connecting link between pain and the world's population.
Dozens of interviews had revealed what was said on the street, what people felt, the guilt they placed in it, hypocrites. Absurd population with abnormal values, preferring not to look to themselves knowing that they really were just as guilty Kevin, you and me.
The Pulitzer Prize value to the life of any reporter, photographer or person in general. Famous, desired. An excellent work rewarded with the best prizes, a cloud of happiness, the rest does not matter, you have a Pulitzer, what more do you want? Your life will change, you will work with the best, you're the best. Would be pleased to know that someone remembered for delivery to the poor girl, miserable little person missing to the delight of an award, a jury and a society, but as it is better not to burn, it is preferable not know if anyone thought of her .
But talk of a Pulitzer, whatever. Good dress, good food, luxury. I'm not dying of hunger, otherwise I do not care.
Kevin as a journalist had covered a great many conflicts, ideological wars, etc, but his trip to Chad was the beginning of the end of his career and his life. In this region of the world, the poorest, nothing has changed. People are dying massively and 15 years after the work of this great photographer is still looking the other way. Not interested in the background and even less so now.
Work and ethics sometimes collide. A job is ethical or not? A job is nothing more than fulfill the work that we commissioned. And that's what Kevin did. Shoot what the Times had commissioned images of a country falling apart, of a population suffering, trying to open the eyes of people with their images.
Did his work, was awarded for her. So obviously we think that the destructive criticism which accumulated in recent years made no sense. You criticize the fact in particular, but not the person.
A journalist captures information on any of its forms and variables, their work refers only to that. No more, and that is what is not understood. All his work was accomplished, made journalism. No more.
Different issue is whether we if we had the same attitude. But the context of each moment is vital.
Did the right thing? Would you do the same? Different answers, different people, different context. Let us look more to ourselves to improve what has been done, and criticize less the work of others.
decadence
That the advertising world, money money money, must be funny in the rich man's world. Money makes the world go round, no more. Savage capitalism in all areas of our lives, people converted to target, one goal. Not anymore. The third world war being waged in thousands of advertising impacts, missiles that break our brains. I look at my account, money degrades me, capitalism destroys us, we know, but the ambition is our drug... And what fun it´s to have power... adrenaline powerful class... our class...
The advertising created false needs, we draw on the mass, we investigated their habits, know the details, I wonder what they want, and they became figures of purchase... And let them! Although the product is crap, a little decoration, the illusion of having something that differentiates them from the rest, and repeat the operation next season, they always want what you don´t have... Yeah! More benefits... silly humans... We changed the steps of Maslow's Pyramid at will, but don´t deceive, that never, report only sweetened. And you believe it.
Separate issue is the charges of causing mental illness, do we?, Show beauty, if you become bulimic is your fault, yours unlucky not to have been born perfect... Cynicism is well known. And the feedlot's account tops the agency with which they impose on society. We're ahead, we are on top. And who criticize us? fat and hairy feminists would want to be really pretty and slender, four boring... I laugh in your face and repeat the next season it should be perfect...
Crossing the line is funny feelings, saying that a product is cheaper than another boring, we prefer to play with you, cause absolute desire, to see how you doing queues to buy shoes by Jimmy Choo pathetic that only you will have the dough, you can never choose to which we buy... We managed to wipe out sales of BMW for the mere echo of teach you to take a hand out the window... really do you think? hahaha
In the advertising world have to be bad, very bad, we'll have time to redeem our sins, the devil whispering in your ear is much more enjoyable than the boring life of blessed who claim to have. Awaken envy and like, a few sins escape, Devil's Party is our day to day, of course, red is the color of success, how I had not happened before, demons overwhelming success...
I like when the businessman believe that have the power, stupid, are a puppet more... if my agency doesn´t work with them will do it other, but they always need us... have no imagination, are other puppets of our market. Our persuasion makes us powerful... Is able to move, we have the key to economic power, we have politicians in our own way and we are the center of every business decision... power, power... cocaine to the
gold nose.
Advertising is the fuel of the economy. Need us, like it or not. Do not know how to live without us, denying him if you will, is evident.
But not all apply for this, you need two things, being extremely intelligent and have no scruples whatsoever. Realize that the world is like you want to be, and that the work of years has managed to alienate many, and encourage you to consume all your dictation.
Don´t think, enjoy, live the moment, let us worry about you ...
As Aristotle and Diogenes taught me, creators of the school of the Cynics, the freeman was no better than the slave, since none had any value in itself. And the slaves are fewer problems. Do you understand? You're a slave century, slave consumption. And I am your master.
________
Menudo mundo el publicitario, money money money, must be funny in the rich´s man world. El dinero hace girar el mundo, no hay más. El capitalismo salvaje en todos los ámbitos de nuestra vida, las personas convertidas en target, un objetivo. No más. La tercera guerra mundial librándose en miles de impactos publicitarios, misiles que revientan nuestras neuronas. Miro mi cuenta, el dinero me envilece, el capitalismo nos destruye, lo sabemos, pero la ambición nos puede... Y lo divertido que es tener poder... la adrenalina de la clase poderosa... de nuestra clase...
Los publicitarios creamos falsas necesidades, nos nutrimos de la masa, investigamos sus hábitos, conocemos sus detalles, les preguntamos que quieren, y les convertimos en cifras de compra... ¡Y se dejan! Aunque el producto sea una mierda, un poco de decoración, la ilusión de tener algo que les diferencie del resto, y la próxima temporada repetimos la operación, siempre quieren lo que no tienen... ¡Yeah! Más beneficios... Que especie tan tonta la humana... Cambiamos los escalones de la Pirámide de Maslow a nuestro antojo, pero no engañamos, eso nunca, sólo informamos edulcoradamente. Y tu te lo crees.
Tema aparte son las acusaciones de provocar enfermedades mentales, ¿nosotros?, mostramos belleza, si te vuelves bulímica es tu culpa, mala suerte la tuya el no haber nacido perfecta... Que bien sabe el cinismo. Y cuanto engorda la cuenta de la agencia con las tops que les imponemos a la sociedad. Estamos por delante, estamos encima. ¿Y quién nos critica? las feministas gordas y peludas que realmente querrían ser guapas y esbeltas, cuatro aburridas... me rio en su cara y en la próxima campaña reitero lo perfectas que deberían ser...
Cruzar la línea de los sentimientos es divertida, decir que un producto es más barato que otro aburre, preferimos jugar contigo, provocar el deseo absoluto, ver como haceis colas para comprar unos zapatos patéticos de Jimmy Choo que sólo tendreis la masa, jamás podreis optar a los que nosotros compramos... Conseguimos arrasar con las ventas de BMW por el mero echo de enseñaros a sacar una mano por la ventanilla... realmente ¿pensais? jajaja
En el mundo publicitario hay que ser malo, malísimo, ya tendrémos tiempo de redimir nuestros pecados, el demonio susurrándonos en la oreja es mucho más placentero que la vida aburrida de beata que pretenden que tengamos. Despertamos envídia y nos gusta, de pocos pecados escapamos, Devil´s Party es nuestro día a día, claro, el rojo es el color del éxito, cómo no se me había ocurrido antes, demonios de éxito abrumador...
Me gusta cuando los empresarios se creen que tienen el poder, imbéciles, son una marioneta más... si mi agencia no trabaja con ellos lo hará otra, pero siempre nos necesitarán... no tienen imaginación, son otros títeres de nuestro mercado. Nuestra persuasión nos hace poderosos... Es el poder circular, poseemos la llave del poder económico, tenemos a los políticos a nuestro antojo y somos el centro de toda decisión comercial... poder, poder... cocaína para las narices de oro.
La publicidad es la gasolina de la economía, sin nosotros como mucho te surtirías de alimentos y cuatro trapos con los que tapar tus vergüenzas. Nos necesitais, te guste o no. No sabes vivir sin nosotros, niegalo si quieres, es evidente.
Pero no todos valen para esto, necesitas dos cosas, ser extremadamente inteligente y no tener escrúpulos de ningún tipo. Darte cuenta de que el mundo es como tu quieres que sea, y que la labor de tantos años ha conseguido alienaros, y alentaros a consumir todo lo que os dictemos.
No pienses, disfruta la vida, vive el momento, déjanos a nosotros preocuparnos por ti...
Como me enseñó Aristóteles y Diógenes, creadores de la escuela de los cínicos, el hombre libre no era mejor que el esclavo ya que ninguno tenía ningún valor en sí mismo. Y los esclavos dan menos problemas. ¿Lo entiendes? Eres un esclavo del siglo XXI, esclavo del consumo. Y yo tu amo.
you´re the leader
The advertising created false needs, we draw on the mass, we investigated their habits, know the details, I wonder what they want, and they became figures of purchase... And let them! Although the product is crap, a little decoration, the illusion of having something that differentiates them from the rest, and repeat the operation next season, they always want what you don´t have... Yeah! More benefits... silly humans... We changed the steps of Maslow's Pyramid at will, but don´t deceive, that never, report only sweetened. And you believe it.
Separate issue is the charges of causing mental illness, do we?, Show beauty, if you become bulimic is your fault, yours unlucky not to have been born perfect... Cynicism is well known. And the feedlot's account tops the agency with which they impose on society. We're ahead, we are on top. And who criticize us? fat and hairy feminists would want to be really pretty and slender, four boring... I laugh in your face and repeat the next season it should be perfect...
Crossing the line is funny feelings, saying that a product is cheaper than another boring, we prefer to play with you, cause absolute desire, to see how you doing queues to buy shoes by Jimmy Choo pathetic that only you will have the dough, you can never choose to which we buy... We managed to wipe out sales of BMW for the mere echo of teach you to take a hand out the window... really do you think? hahaha
In the advertising world have to be bad, very bad, we'll have time to redeem our sins, the devil whispering in your ear is much more enjoyable than the boring life of blessed who claim to have. Awaken envy and like, a few sins escape, Devil's Party is our day to day, of course, red is the color of success, how I had not happened before, demons overwhelming success...
I like when the businessman believe that have the power, stupid, are a puppet more... if my agency doesn´t work with them will do it other, but they always need us... have no imagination, are other puppets of our market. Our persuasion makes us powerful... Is able to move, we have the key to economic power, we have politicians in our own way and we are the center of every business decision... power, power... cocaine to the
gold nose.
Advertising is the fuel of the economy. Need us, like it or not. Do not know how to live without us, denying him if you will, is evident.
But not all apply for this, you need two things, being extremely intelligent and have no scruples whatsoever. Realize that the world is like you want to be, and that the work of years has managed to alienate many, and encourage you to consume all your dictation.
Don´t think, enjoy, live the moment, let us worry about you ...
As Aristotle and Diogenes taught me, creators of the school of the Cynics, the freeman was no better than the slave, since none had any value in itself. And the slaves are fewer problems. Do you understand? You're a slave century, slave consumption. And I am your master.
________
Menudo mundo el publicitario, money money money, must be funny in the rich´s man world. El dinero hace girar el mundo, no hay más. El capitalismo salvaje en todos los ámbitos de nuestra vida, las personas convertidas en target, un objetivo. No más. La tercera guerra mundial librándose en miles de impactos publicitarios, misiles que revientan nuestras neuronas. Miro mi cuenta, el dinero me envilece, el capitalismo nos destruye, lo sabemos, pero la ambición nos puede... Y lo divertido que es tener poder... la adrenalina de la clase poderosa... de nuestra clase...
Los publicitarios creamos falsas necesidades, nos nutrimos de la masa, investigamos sus hábitos, conocemos sus detalles, les preguntamos que quieren, y les convertimos en cifras de compra... ¡Y se dejan! Aunque el producto sea una mierda, un poco de decoración, la ilusión de tener algo que les diferencie del resto, y la próxima temporada repetimos la operación, siempre quieren lo que no tienen... ¡Yeah! Más beneficios... Que especie tan tonta la humana... Cambiamos los escalones de la Pirámide de Maslow a nuestro antojo, pero no engañamos, eso nunca, sólo informamos edulcoradamente. Y tu te lo crees.
Tema aparte son las acusaciones de provocar enfermedades mentales, ¿nosotros?, mostramos belleza, si te vuelves bulímica es tu culpa, mala suerte la tuya el no haber nacido perfecta... Que bien sabe el cinismo. Y cuanto engorda la cuenta de la agencia con las tops que les imponemos a la sociedad. Estamos por delante, estamos encima. ¿Y quién nos critica? las feministas gordas y peludas que realmente querrían ser guapas y esbeltas, cuatro aburridas... me rio en su cara y en la próxima campaña reitero lo perfectas que deberían ser...
Cruzar la línea de los sentimientos es divertida, decir que un producto es más barato que otro aburre, preferimos jugar contigo, provocar el deseo absoluto, ver como haceis colas para comprar unos zapatos patéticos de Jimmy Choo que sólo tendreis la masa, jamás podreis optar a los que nosotros compramos... Conseguimos arrasar con las ventas de BMW por el mero echo de enseñaros a sacar una mano por la ventanilla... realmente ¿pensais? jajaja
En el mundo publicitario hay que ser malo, malísimo, ya tendrémos tiempo de redimir nuestros pecados, el demonio susurrándonos en la oreja es mucho más placentero que la vida aburrida de beata que pretenden que tengamos. Despertamos envídia y nos gusta, de pocos pecados escapamos, Devil´s Party es nuestro día a día, claro, el rojo es el color del éxito, cómo no se me había ocurrido antes, demonios de éxito abrumador...
Me gusta cuando los empresarios se creen que tienen el poder, imbéciles, son una marioneta más... si mi agencia no trabaja con ellos lo hará otra, pero siempre nos necesitarán... no tienen imaginación, son otros títeres de nuestro mercado. Nuestra persuasión nos hace poderosos... Es el poder circular, poseemos la llave del poder económico, tenemos a los políticos a nuestro antojo y somos el centro de toda decisión comercial... poder, poder... cocaína para las narices de oro.
La publicidad es la gasolina de la economía, sin nosotros como mucho te surtirías de alimentos y cuatro trapos con los que tapar tus vergüenzas. Nos necesitais, te guste o no. No sabes vivir sin nosotros, niegalo si quieres, es evidente.
Pero no todos valen para esto, necesitas dos cosas, ser extremadamente inteligente y no tener escrúpulos de ningún tipo. Darte cuenta de que el mundo es como tu quieres que sea, y que la labor de tantos años ha conseguido alienaros, y alentaros a consumir todo lo que os dictemos.
No pienses, disfruta la vida, vive el momento, déjanos a nosotros preocuparnos por ti...
Como me enseñó Aristóteles y Diógenes, creadores de la escuela de los cínicos, el hombre libre no era mejor que el esclavo ya que ninguno tenía ningún valor en sí mismo. Y los esclavos dan menos problemas. ¿Lo entiendes? Eres un esclavo del siglo XXI, esclavo del consumo. Y yo tu amo.
you´re the leader
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
One of the good things of the crisis (which some have, but I'll leave for another day) is the returning to the heyday of high society... the music starts back, the taste for exquisite luxury for a few people... interwar... Côte d'Azur, skiing in Gsstad, furs, jazz, casinos and private parties only for the finest circles ...
People ran out tacky, nouveau riche of the brick, have finally returned to their site... exquisite dream of a lifetime. Diamonds, gold, haute couture, only for those who have always had... there are classes and class... is clear.
Dreaming of holidays in Monaco ... Caro Emerald music... Dream a night like this...
__________________
Una de las cosas buena de la crisis (que algunas tiene, aunque las dejaré para otro día) es que se está volviendo a la época dorada de la alta sociedad... la música vuelve atrás, el gusto por un lujo exquisito para unas pocas personas... época de entreguerras... sufrimiento para unos muchos, costa azul, esquí en Gsstad, pieles, jazz, casinos y fiestas privadas sólo para los circulos más exquisitos...
se acabó la gente hortera, los nuevos ricos del ladrillo, por fin han vuelto a su sitio... sueño de una vida exquisita. Diamantes, oro, alta costura, sólo para los que siempre lo han tenido... hay clases y clases... está claro.
Soñando con las vacaciones en mónaco... con la música de Caro Emerald... Dream a night like this
People ran out tacky, nouveau riche of the brick, have finally returned to their site... exquisite dream of a lifetime. Diamonds, gold, haute couture, only for those who have always had... there are classes and class... is clear.
Dreaming of holidays in Monaco ... Caro Emerald music... Dream a night like this...
__________________
Una de las cosas buena de la crisis (que algunas tiene, aunque las dejaré para otro día) es que se está volviendo a la época dorada de la alta sociedad... la música vuelve atrás, el gusto por un lujo exquisito para unas pocas personas... época de entreguerras... sufrimiento para unos muchos, costa azul, esquí en Gsstad, pieles, jazz, casinos y fiestas privadas sólo para los circulos más exquisitos...
se acabó la gente hortera, los nuevos ricos del ladrillo, por fin han vuelto a su sitio... sueño de una vida exquisita. Diamantes, oro, alta costura, sólo para los que siempre lo han tenido... hay clases y clases... está claro.
Soñando con las vacaciones en mónaco... con la música de Caro Emerald... Dream a night like this
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)