Scaly News

Safety for Mexico City

2012-02-04T11:16:00.000-08:00

So, you are going to visit Mexico City... and that is wonderful. But it is a big city, a huge city, and tourists usually stick out. Either because they do not know how to wade around the city and expect another country and culture to tailor to their own very specific needs or because they look like this:

So, in order to make the most of your visit, I have made a list of Safety Tips to make your stay a pleasant one. I am sure most of you already know this (if you have been to any big city in the world), but here we have, the basics:

Movement

Only get in taxi cabs called from a taxi station (called sitios, they phone a taxi for you), never stop a taxi in the street.
Negotiate ahead of time the fare (unless it is fixed or with a taxímetro), ask “cuánto sale para X”.
Don´t leave the window down. Lock the doors when you are in the car/cab.
Do not pull out maps in the street (even in the car/cab).
Don’t walk in the streets at night (except in Coyoacán, and only in lighted areas).
Don´t walk and talk on the phone.
Ask the hotel if there are any dangerous streets near the hotel, avoid them.
Avoid catcalls, ignore them.

Money

Always carry about 20-50 dollars, if you get mugged give them that immediately, do not look at them.
Never use an ATM on the street, use the ones inside stores or malls.
Do not go into an ATM alone, if someone is there, wait outside. Once inside, lock the door. If you see anyone hanging out outside, do not enter. Leave your companion outside to watch out for you.
Distribute cash among your pockets, do not keep it all in one place (or get a money belt/pouch).
Do not carry huge amounts of cash.
Do not pay with debit card or credit card, it might get cloned. Use cash. (except maybe the hotel)
Pay with pesos, dollars will be taken at the lowest they were that month according to the banks. They will usually never give change in dollars.
Tipping is expected with almost everything, think on average 10 pesos, on food 15-20%.

Passport

Do not carry your passport on you, use the safety deposit box in the hotel. Carry a photocopy.

Yourself

Do not use gold or jewelry, nothing shiny. If you are wearing a stone ring, turn the stone inside.
If you take your rings out when you wash your hands, if someone uses the next sink, move the rings.
Do not wear flashy clothes.
Do not leave purse or backpack out of your sight (do not hang your purse/backpack on the seat, put it in the table).
If you need help, do not ask a policeman, go to the nearest store and ask for help from the people working there.
If a policeman says you did something and is going to fine you, ask for his/her badge and write it down. Then say you are calling the American Embassy, if they continue, call the embassy. Never go with him/her anywhere (s/he might not be a police officer).

Druglords

Do not speak in public or in taxis positively or negatively about the insecurity, violence, criminal activity, etc. Someone might not agree.

TLDR: Don't flash your money around, don't act stupid, do not expect the police to help you. Enjoy yourself!

Madison Fountain

2012-01-29T12:06:00.002-08:00

Madison Fountain

2012-01-29T12:06:00.000-08:00

Myths of the Mayan Calendar

2012-01-09T13:01:00.000-08:00

If you are here it is probably because you are using non-Mayan iconography to talk about the Mayas and some of your very concerned friends (who certainly love you and don’t want to continue seeing you making an idiot of yourself) sent you here.

There are three important aspects of the Mayan Culture that you should know.

1. The Mayas are a culture in Latin America (south of Mexico, north of Guatemala and Belice, El Salvador and Honduras) which started in the year 500 b.C. and continues up to now. And yes, the Mayas are still very much around today. Though because of the conquest (which happened around 1500) they abandoned the great cities and lost most of the traditional scientific research. They did this because the Spaniards were keen on torturing, maiming, raping, enslaving people, pillaging cities and burning books.

A Maya City would have looked like this about 600 years ago

It would be the equivalent of some aliens coming and starting to probing and dismember the members of sororities and frat houses while burning all the libraries and replacing internet with 24 hours of infomercials. The culture in the USA might still survive after this, but the knowledge probably might be dispersed.

Mmm... Rat burgers

2. The Mayas were great astronomers and mathematicians, their calculations about orbits, meteor showers, Sun, Moon and Venus eclipses, and other cosmological phenomena are still more exact than the calendar we use in Western Civilization. And it so happens that the Mayas “predicted” and end of a period to happen in the Winter Solstice 2012, and they talk about it here, in the Stelae 6:

Some interpretations here

3. This, however, is the Sun Stone, from the Aztec civilization.

It was probably used as a table by an Aztec priest

It is not a calendar, though it does contains elements of the Aztec calendar, mythology, and cardinal points.

The Aztecs believed that if you stopped feeding human hearts to the gods, the Sun would stay underground during the night and never come out again.

So if you talk about the Mayan calendar like so:

It would be the same as googling Eiffel Tower and getting this:

Doctors and doctors

2010-12-05T12:56:00.000-08:00

Para español, diagnostique aquí.

Inspired by Gary Larson.
Dedicated to Dr. Lucha.

Birth of (a) Sport

2010-02-21T13:55:00.000-08:00

After hours of viewing the Winter Olympics I couldn´t help but wonder about the origins of certain practiced sports. By watching displays of strength, dexterity and movements, one in particular caught my attention because it definitely reminded me of something:

Mujeres aladas (o mujeres saladas)

2010-02-13T14:09:00.001-08:00

Yeah, right!!!

Ya parece que voy a poner mi cuento favorito
en la red para dominio público.
Lo siento, esto no es wikipedia.
Y por eso, la gente seguirá usando libros con hojas.

.

Traducción de los albures

2010-02-13T09:44:00.000-08:00

Jaime Costecho: Mecos es una palabra utilizada en México para designar al semen. Techo, al verbalizarlo suena a "Te echo". La idea de "Semen te echo" o "te echo semen" tiene un sentido que se refiere a un acto sexual donde el activo ejerce la penetración sobre el pasivo.

Todo el juego del albur mexicano consiste en una competencia verbal sobre el rol en una relación sexual. Siempre uno debe ejercer el rol "activo", el de la penetración.
Por lo tanto, todos los elementos falicos (pene, palo, largo, verga, escoba, chile, plátano, camote, carne, trozo, salchicha, tronco) deben insertarse (darse, meterse, ponerse, encajarse, embarrar).
Durante el producto de la inserción pueden suceder dos cosas, si insertados en el ano el pene puede humedecerse (empapar, mojar) y se sacan (retiran, jalan) elementos parecidos al excremento (chocolate, lodo, frijoles, barro); si insertados en la vagina puede ocurrir un embarazo (engordar, con producto, con relleno). La alusión a la ingestión del semen (mecos, leche, blanco) o de colocar semen en alguien, también es parte de las prestezas del activo.
Cualquier alusión a la pasividad del encuentro sexual debe evitarse. El ofrecer el ano es el tabú mayor, por lo tanto cualquier cosa que aluda al ano (el pedorro, el hoyo, el orificio, el ojo, anillo, nalgas, pompas, culo, ...) debe evitarse. Asímismo se evita también cualquier actividad que exponga el ano (sentarse, ponerse, ofrecer, dar).
Por último, otros tipos de actividad sexual, como el sexo oral, funcionan bajo la misma premisa. Elementos relacionados con la boca (chupar, mascar, morder, succionar, lamer, salivar, mamar) deben de estar alejados de metáforas del pene. Porque implican el elemento de pasividad.

Entonces, el primer punto es el siguiente: se permite el juego sexual siempre y cuando la penetración sea ejercida y no recibida.

El segundo punto es que: no se puede aludir directamente al juego. Todo debe ser velado y parecer parte de una conversación normal. Por lo tanto se usan metáforas, comparaciones y palabras que suenan similares ("pollo" por "hoyo", por ejemplo)

El tercer punto es que: quien no puede responder, pierde.

Así que...
recomienda para una buena cena una carne alzada a la barbilla (osea, carne/pene colocado a la altura de la boca) o los frijoles de api-zaco (sacar excremento, ver arriba). Recuerden, los tacos saben mejor con chile hecho (echar chile/pene) en México. Ahora, préstenme (prestar, alude a entregar el ano) atención con sus consejos; dice que los Chiles en Vinagre se conservan bien en barro (chile/pene embarro) , al igual que los plátanos en cajones (plátano encajar, pene entrar). En cambio el lomo se descompone (poner el lomo) cuando está lloviendo (cuando estallo, o cuando tengo un orgasmo) .

Etcétera.
Espero que les haya sido de provecho.

Plagio Plagio Plagio

2010-02-13T09:28:00.000-08:00

Efficiency

2010-01-08T18:43:00.000-08:00

The man ponders about the size of the one that got away.

We all want to be victims

2009-12-25T16:21:00.000-08:00

This human inability to register that other people can suffer has driven us to define “justice” as the perfect excuse to extinguish the person that looks-at-me-the-wrong-way. From the first baby utterances of the “he did it!” to the “but I was only following orders”, humans have found ways to justify their horrors, massacres and genocides. All under the egotistical vision of “but my intentions were good…” or even worse, “but I am the good guy! I was only defending myself”

The worst part is that people are not essentially evil, it is just that they have their heads so high up in their own asses that they are unable to realize that their stupid good intentions has turned them into ghastly monsters.

Here is a nice historical collection of self proclaimed victims:

Cats on walls

2009-09-03T13:53:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows that cats control human thought.

This is the obvious reason for human activities toward cats: building fine sand boxes which are meticulously cleaned of dung and pee; brushing elusive fine hairs which will be lodged in human nostrils; buying expensive cat toys that will be discarded after 120 seconds; tending on to every possible cat need without any contemplation of own´s safety (have you ever brushed a cat´s teeth?).

There is absolutely no retribution: neither economic, nor emotional (cats do not even recognize their humans), nor physical. In other words, a cat is like an everlasting teenager.

And when this dominance is mixed with creative activity, the product is a cat. This was proven after viewing some graffiti in Bogotá.

meow!

Bad tits

2009-08-15T08:01:00.000-07:00

Sevilla. By trying to escape the sexual advances from a donkey owned by the local government, a cow fell to her death in San Roque. The cow´s owner insisted that the donkey was pursuing the cow with malicious carnal intent and this was the reason the cow plunged to her non-existance.
However, the response from the goverment was that the cow seduced the donkey, who is a healthy strong male, by displaying in an immoral manner her nakedness and her bra-less, jiggly, bare tits.
This could only happen in Spain.

Of the pages fastened along one side and encased between protective covers

2009-08-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

I can understand that not everybody enjoys reading. I appreciate it rationally, I can comprehend that as the same way I can grasp that some individuals like peas, others BBQ sauce, and some just plainly detest texts. Sitting down with a book, opening it, going through the pages, I can see why it would be old fashioned and dreary. Nowadays books have some writing on the back part which summarizes what is inside, that is because most people are not even aware that one must open it for it to function.

I could get the frustration of these people when confronted with a house filled with books: books on the bed, books on the floor, books in the bathroom, books by the door. I can understand one possible option is to throw the books away, since if they are correctly disposed of, they can easily be rescued by people that consider that private property on the floor is public property… that is what my old university did with antique books and that is how I got a 1830 Divine Comedy. On the other extreme we stumble on book burning, and that is quite exaggerated and produces global warming, it also tends to monogram the soul in such way that upon death one is taken directly to hell.

But please, do tell me if it is not justified to cut your partner´s balls off if after arriving home from work, tired, stressed, hungry, and you are met upon the door with a smiling, radiant, joyous significant other that shows you this:

source

Cyborg Generation

2009-08-01T20:14:00.001-07:00

stupid zombies

2009-07-26T17:28:00.000-07:00

Zombies are reanimated corpses. A corpse is a dead human being, if it comes back to life, it is a zombie. Quite simple. Of course, what makes it exciting is that zombies have a terrible desire to eat living human beings, specially brains. The possible interpretation is that of want, they want what they lack, since they are dead living corpses, their brains aren’t working and they want some. However, it might simply be a craving for life and live flesh is what gives them their reanimation.

You see, if they wanted brains because of the lack, then we would not have stupid zombies. And we do have them.

For example, about 2,000 years ago this dim-witted jewish zombie got it wrong. Though he went around scaring people (you know, by doing the zombie stuff: displaying his open wounds, moving with a sluggish, blundering pace, etc.) instead of doing the proper munching up of the populace, he asked for the opposite and started telling everyone to eat him!

It was so scary people are still talking about it.
For more info about this, click here.

Poopart

2009-07-08T19:10:00.001-07:00

Several times, students have asked me how can one recognize “art”. I would tell them that art moves you from inside.

It is this something that pierces into you through your senses, imbues you up completely, twists and twirls your insides you until you are seized with convulsions and then… zaz! Art.

For example, every time I walk into a bookstore (or library) I need only to march up to the literature stand, read the titles and immediately I will be saturated with uncontrollable urges to take a shit. My dear friend MG experiences the same when she goes into a museum, she strolls into a room, sees a sculpture and instantly she feels a spasmodic sensation that is followed by farts and excretions as she darts to the restroom.

And so, artists undergo the same occurrence while creating art, so here, for your pleasure, a small collection:

Andrés Serrano, Piss Christ, 1989. Material: crucifix in piss.

Santiago Sierra, Sierra-Shit,2007, Material: Shit from the lowest caste of India and plastic.
Piero Manzoni, "Artist's (Poo)," 1961, Material: cans and shit.
So if this blog makes you want to puke or shit... now you know.

Myths

2009-07-01T08:40:00.000-07:00

source

I am truly fond of bugs, especially spiders. I just love spiders and their spidery eyes and long furry legs. You see, almost all of them have eight legs, except when they have been pulled off, then they have less.

There are so many myths about spiders. They say that she-spiders bite the male’s head off after copulation. It is also said that the spiderlings devour their devout mothers, and this is done in a routinely fashion, it is also alleged that they slowly munch their defenseless little brothers and sisters and it is because of such reason that the surviving spider is indeed a very savage one, a spider filled with hate and violence, that would match any beastly human. However this pure fiction, a legend, a something that is not, such stories are impossible since spiders do not have a chewing mechanism and therefore do not chew, devour, bite heads off or munch. They must inject an acidic substance and suck the liquefied victim. And everyone knows that no being that lives on a liquid diet can be that evil.
source

Poor misunderstood lovely spiders, attacked mercilessly by ignorant beings who lynch and probe them. Who take hundreds of innocuous tarantulas and light them on fire, that take chaste black widows and squish them, harmless daddy long legs driven off cliffs. So so much cruelty to the poor innocent misconstrued spiders.

And in Cambodia, they fry them up and eat them. Psshhh.

source

The meaning of life, Part II

2009-06-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

I work in order that my things have a good and decent life.

source

Eight hours a day for the car´s good maintenance, so I can change the spark plugs and rotate the tires and verify the belts are ok every 25,000 miles and check the oil level, and change it, and using only higher octane fuel because is good for the engine, and also wax it, polish it, and cover it at night with a tent.

From 9 to 5, so I can get a vacuum cleaner for the carpet and that machine that also washes them with ultra super water pressure power and this gizmo thingy that absorbs bad smells from the fridge and energy conserving lightbulbs and a special cleaner for the wood furniture and another for the glass windows and another for the toilet and another for the sink and another for the plates and another for the cups and another for the floor, but not the carpet, because I only use water for the special carpet cleaner machine.

So I use my hours, instead of writing or reading, or painting, or eating, or going out for a walk in the park, or hanging out with friends or with my wonderful kitty, so my clothes can be washed with the special laundry detergent that is biofriendly organic biodegradable biologically bioethics not tested on animals plants or anything that has ever been alive or ever will be. On that and on a fabric softener that leaves the clothes smelling just like Spring with the essence of clouds. So I can iron it and put it in a box, in a drawer, in a closet, inside the room.

So I got some coat hangers for my pants, so I will not get creases, and some for my skirts so they hang loose and do not loose their fluff, and some for my sleeveless shirts so they don’t stretch and some for my coat, that goes easy on the shoulders, and a dehumidifier for the shoes. I also wanted some wine, a good wine, maybe this Spanish wine I have been thinking about a San Román 2002, but it was a little bit expensive and the beer was on sale, and it is just wine, really, so I got some of that.

Election time!

2009-06-14T09:08:00.001-07:00

It is election time again, where we have the opportunity to submit our vote in Exchange for our obedience. Democracy. The wonderful system where a despotic majority decides over such issues like turning stinky jews into soaps, ban marriage, sterilize the uncouth Indians, allow the hunting down of humans who happen to not be born in the same hospital as them… so many things that are deemed morally acceptable, even good.

Unless of course, the aforementioned majority becomes the stinky minority and then you hear complains about planes dropped on them or druglords gunning them down in their favorite vacation spots. But I do wonder why? If it was all a result of a democratic choice.

It is obvious that in the precise moment that you submit your ballot, you are submitting your will.

In the moment that you choose the lesser of two evils (or three evils, or four...), you are implicitly accepting whatever happens. As the vote is casted all of the personal responsibility that deals with any of the next four to six years is also included. Whatever the majority rules will be the best choice. So this is worse than a tyranny, because in a dictatorship there is at least a mean evil oppressor, but here, in this fake democracies, the silence is autoregulated.

So some believe the best choice is just to annul the vote (as if there would be any difference between winning by two votes or by 40,000). It is just a small band aid used to cover the big gash of the lesser than two evils. Civic duty would be to run for office, or at least create a deadly flu virus that will exterminate all of the swine politicians… oh well…

What I am doing is that I´m just going to vote for Cepillín. At least he admits he is a clown.

Jesus in marmalade

2009-06-06T10:56:00.000-07:00

Jesus has appeared to the humans many times. These images fill the expecting flock with faith and feelings of divine miracles, which are plentiful of mirth, and hope, and (insert favorite emotion here).

However, the interesting thing here is that according to forensic and anthropological studies, the christ´s face would have pretty much looked like this:

But the one showing up looks like this:

It is logical to think that by the time, a face like such would have issued responses such as "here comes the monster", "don´t be afraid of him, he is horrible but sweet" and "the lepers love him, because he is as ugly as them". Therefore, the christ looked like a regular person, since only differences are noted.

(That is why it is impossible that the 9-11 terrorists had been arabs. I know that the most trusted and honest Bush and the totally reliable Al-Qaeda said so. But there is no phone conversation from the victims in the plane hijackings that said "we are being hijacked by some fucking shit arab guy". All say "hijackers", "with red bandanas", "with a knife", etc... in other words, the hijackers looked like them: white and American)

But back to the christ. From the sightings several things are noted:

- The apparitions do not correspond to the original Christ, but to images that people want to be the Christ.
-The image is not really important, it is more so the desire for it to be true.
-The one appearing is not the Christ but some white, european, blue-eyed, bearded dude.
-The bearded dude is possibly a guy who in life kicked puppies and spat at old ladies...

Let´s pray.

Relics, saints and chapels

2009-06-01T20:36:00.000-07:00

It is well documented that christ´s circumcision was performed on the eighth day he was born by a priestess friend of Mary. His Holy Prepuce was stored in nard oil and some of the so called “unauthentic” gospels state that precisely this was the oil used by Mary Magdalene when she anointed him.

Other sources situate the Holy Prepuce in a small chapel in Colombia. Apparently during the failed expedition by Diego de Nicuesa, there was a sailor named Diego de Vergara who was supposed to be the great great great etc great grandson of this rabbi, and who had always kept the Holy Prepuce as a heirloom. There is little known about this expedition and even less about the relic´s authenticity, so this proposal is even more dubious than the first one.

However, they might even seem excesive when compared to what is known about Jesus´s holy diapers and his holy shit. The only reference found is in an arab gospel, which was probably written around the 6th Century, and in it is stated that the son of God´s first diaper was given as a gift to the three wise men. Who in turn tried to burn it, since it stench was driving the camel, the horse and the elephant into a paranoid sexual psychosis that appeared to be harmful to them. However, after the fire burned out the diaper remained intact. After this proof, the wise men had to recognize the child´s divinity, for anything that the baby´s bodily fluids touched turned to immaculate perfection (Actually, there are records that His bath water was greedily sought by the lepers of the sorrounding area).

This aforementioned superpowerful diaper was sent to a small arab town (whose name has been lost to the historical records) to a family that had three extremely beautiful sons whose eyes shone as the moon and two exquisitely superb daughters, and it was said that whomever saw the whole family together could not stand the magnificence and would immediately start bawling. Therefore, close to the family´s dwelling there were green grasses irrigated by the profusely watered fountains created by the tears of the people in the village. So this made the town unbelievably fertile and the family immensely rich. However, during the first crusade this town was in the middle of the way of the recovery of the holy relics and was burnt to the ground and the soil salted.

It is interesting how it finally played out, since the crusaders obtained a diaper which (according to the obscure records of the time) smelt like roses, which in turn made it enough proof for them for the holyness of the shit. But truly, this diaper which is up to this day stored in a small vault in the Vatican, is nothing more than the diaper of one of the youngest daughters of the family.

A Jesuit friend of mine could procure a picture after bribing a guard with a 5 euro note and a small bottle of tequila:

It is well known that the christ´s shit stank like no man´s shit has stunk before, since he was the Son of Man. It is so obvious that even in the aforementioned gospels there are at least 4 cases of demonic possessions whose victims, after putting the diaper close to their nose, would writhe and squirm in anguish while the demons fled their carnal bodies.

There is also a small chapel, remodeled by the cathars during the 11th Century, that claims to be the holy sanctuary of the holy shit of Christ. Apparently the place where Jesus would defecate during his childhood in Judea was found. However, the veracity of the relic has never been proven, though pilgrims from all over the world flock the chapel twice a year (in Good Friday and Christmas) because the relic regains roundness and humidity and stinks. It is said that after one visit during these days, the holy stench will remain in the clothes eternally, forever blessing the wearer with the miracle.

What has indeed been proven that this region is the epicenter for the coined phrase “Holy shit!"

The niece

2009-05-16T17:07:00.000-07:00

After terrible menstrual cramps, that would not end neither with the hot tortilla on the belly, nor with brandy, nor with all of the medical pills that friends recommended, finally they told the princess that she had an inverted womb.

Her goal in life was that of perfect marriage, and according to the prescriptions of the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church, in order to do so she had to be fervently guarding her pearl. So she was not aware of the terrible efforts she would have to face in order to get pregnant, her dreams had only been of marrying dressed in white, perfect Baby Showers, mortgage the house, send her children to the best schools, the whole deal.

But after blowing her boyfriend and swallowing, she was with child. Nine months later she vomited, amidst saliva and a half eaten salbute, a brown, hairy, big eyed girl.
This is the niece of the edigator.

Tomorrow, the edigator will meet her.
yeii

To relieve stress

2009-05-09T23:39:00.000-07:00

Exams to check, no job for the summer, papers due, swine (er... mexican... er... A) flu...
we do have to relax

The REAL reason why dinosaurs got extinct

2009-05-03T19:26:00.000-07:00

In view with recent global happenings, this could not be more appropriate.

Don Quixote, condensed

2009-04-26T00:02:00.000-07:00

The thoughtful edigator understand that not everyone has the time and patience to read the complete version of Don Quixote, but they should. Therefore, the magnanimus has condensed the novel written by Miguel de Cervantes, who found the manuscript composed by Cid Hamete Berengeli and took it to be translated to a semi anonimus arab, all of that... to be read in less than a minute.

El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quijote de la Mancha

In a village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire tocall to mind, there lived not long since one of those gentlemen thatkeep a lance in the lance-rack, an old buckler, a lean hack, and agreyhound for coursing.

Don Quixote: I am a knight, I will go in search of adventures.
Everyone: No, you are not!
Don Quixote: Yes, I am.
Everyone: Ok, lets play along.
Don Quixote dies.

Source
If you want more books... aquí

So stupid

2009-04-18T11:37:00.000-07:00

There is a series of internet pages that document human stupidity.
Sometimes I wonder if in a distant future (considering there will be one), when the archaeologists research daily practices of the xxi century sapiens sapiens animal, they will conclude (accurately) that all human life: that is meanings, objectives, dreams and desires (such as now is said about the mayas were sky watchers or the ancient egyptians were Nile farmers who wore eyeliner and short skirts) was centered in the regulation and description of ways to maim and annihilate the others,

in a obsessive collection of human orifices and things that might be inserted into them,

and a chronology of stupidity.

Interestingly enough, stupidity is closely associated to the viewing of a different outcome as the one predicted or quite simple situations were humans are hurt.

Anyway, I found a wonderful internet page that has become a favorite of mine, a way to lighten up my gray days: Failblog.org.

I leave you with and image and a couple of videos from that site that I have found lovely.

Fail sign!

Fail Ironing!

Fail parking, fail awareness of surroundings, fail good samaritan, fail everything!!

Centaurs, oh my

2009-04-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

Modern humans live surrounded by myths. Though the documented reality provided by TIME magazine does not accept the concept of monsters or anything that is not normal, people keep seeing, listening, photographing, filming and running away from aliens, chupacabras, yetis, hipno toads, and a nice assortment of evil slimy monsters in search of brains and other juicy parts of the body.

But the magnificent edigator is aware that according to psychology and anthropology and sociology and all of those quite exact human sciences, humans are quite simple creatures. They are, to put it simply, symbolic animals that codify fears and desires into complex and absurd situations. Therefore, all monsters have their roots in a particular fear or desire. The abominable snowman finds its origin in the fear to the long cold winter, the windigo to your brother eating your parents (and then you), the chupacabras to the latinamerican patriotism, etc… But centaurs..

Centaurs are these mythological beings, half horse (the bottom half) and half human (upper half). Traditionally (mythically?) these beings are astrological diviners, star gazers, etc… Why would anyone keep believing in them?

Source of both

And then.. epiphany… I understood why… (viewer discretion advised... naked picture coming up... HERE)

Baby Shower Games

2009-04-03T20:20:00.000-07:00

My dear friend Seraqui is having a baby shower for the fruit of her unprotected passion and the edigator was asked for help.
-Oh, great edigator of the sewers, you will be in charge of games. They said.
-Games?!, edigator flabergastedly asked, what kind of games?!
-Oh, you know, games that involve babies, the edigator was told with a smile and a sigh.
So the edigator thunk and thunk and thunk and created the following Three Baby Games:

I. Pin the penis on the baby
Instructions: Grab a penis, wear a blindfold, pin it on the baby.

Then, thunk some more and came with the white trash version (much more fun!)…

I. (version plus) Put out the cigarette on the baby
Instructions: Grab a lighted cigarette and put it out on the baby.
II. Spin the baby
Instructions: Grab a baby by its hind feet. Spin.
10 points for each completed turn.
III. Kick the baby.
Instructions: Place baby in garden. Punt baby. 2 points per 5 yards of flight.

Any more suggestions?

Got Wood?

2009-03-29T16:26:00.001-07:00

With Spring here, everyone is feeling feisty and flirty.

Squirrels chant their love songs as they frolic, while cardinals and ravens chirp and squack as they seduce each other.

There are echoes everywhere ... pant pant wheeze wheeze puf puf aaahhhh!

It is in the air...

cousin vera

2009-03-22T15:31:00.000-07:00

In the last hours of the 20th, snow started falling and it was slowly transformed to watery rain. The past two days it has been warmer and people started undressing in public. A friend said you could hear the birds chirping, but the true sound of spring is when the homeless have fled the shelters and invade the streets, calling, asking, pleading for a coin. Please, don’t look away, a coin because I am hungry, have a nice day.

The sun came out. Oh sí. The edigator is catching some rays.

Migraines

2009-03-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

Migraines are caused by minuscule zombies who rip and devour pieces of the brain they inhabit. Feverish minds, troubled by headaches and hallucinations are able to draw them into horror stories which flock our eyes in the cinema.

Some activities which the host performs wakes the voracious zombies and as the host tries to survive the unsuspected attack on the head, and believes the vomiting, the repulsion to noise and smells, the semi paralysis and shaking, the fear of light, are all caused by something as trivial and normal as blood rushing to the brain or a huge hangover. So then the host growls grr argh, takes enormous quantities of pills, and tries to sleep.

And the zombies munch away...

Mirror mirror

2009-03-07T13:32:00.000-08:00

It does not matter how many fashionable clothes, board meetings, different jobs or excessive money humans have or want, they are still animals. Most of the time, humans try to identify their humanness with non-animal elements. That is, if an animal can do it, the human will negate that and construct s/his identity with the anti-animal notions.

So, if an animal defecates in public, the human will do it hidden in a restroom. If an animal eats another while the delicatessen is still alive; the human will kill, dismember and bake. It does not matter if the second option is more complicated, absurd and requires technicians, engineers, and hours of training in order to achieve it. Any variation turns humans into nasty beasts.

And those cuasi-perfect animals that behave in a non-animalistic way are almost humans: emotional dogs, memorious elephants who suffer painfully when they encounter elephant bones, or parrots that speak.

But when one of these animals behaves as s/his earthbound irremediable nature indicates, humans are astounded. Because they see a mirror of the beast that they are. After so many words... be flabbergasted:

¡Carámbanos!

2009-03-01T13:56:00.000-08:00

I like this word. But in Spanish.

It is pronounced with a hard "K" Kah- ram- bah- nose . It rolls on your tongue and whispers out. Carámbanos.

The thing in English is called an antiseptic "icicle", in French it is a nasal "glaçon", in German a barked "Eizsapfen", even in náhuatl it is a sweet "acectli". Melodic insensible words. They do not convey the idea of the criminal water, which refuses to drip, to be liquid and dares to hang.

But in Spanish you holler ¡Carámbanos! which dangle from the window sills, waiting waiting for a walker who will stand, waiting for him to stop and then they fly, and then they break and crack and drop and kill and become weapons and pikes and then shatered carámbanos, fractured carámbanos, and carámbanos destroyed.

I like them like so.

Zombie Power

2009-02-21T17:00:00.000-08:00

Due to recent post about zombie love, edigator was flooded with unending questions about the emotional nature of the zombie. Do they love? Is s/he driven by pure passion? Is it a spiritual hunger? When s/he wants your brain, is it because of solitude?

So we conducted strenuous zombie research and a series of autopsies (which, if we may say so, were not that easy, with all the biting situation…) and here we have, specially for you, a zombie brain:

So, if you know a zombie, and now with this detailed knowledge of s/his drives and urges, you may now enjoy life (er… death) and just keep away of sharp edges (teeth, hands).

And to conclude, a society which under normal circumstances would have never reached the pinnacle of Western civilization (since they had no blacks or latinos), but did so with the wondrous fortune of the zombie slavery.

Tuesday again!

2009-02-17T08:40:00.000-08:00

From beneath us, the earth opens up to give forth the only monster capable to put up with today´s shit. He survives on dissertations and academic papers, in discussions of the absolute and let me tell you something...
The savior of lost students,

Count Fartula!

Love me tender

2009-02-14T11:35:00.000-08:00

I see tight pink sweaters and red hearts everywhere. People skip and sigh, they covetlously hold sweaty palms and try to pace their walks with the other´s steps. Oh, these public displays of affection and tenderness make me yearn for a bit of cyanide. Butterflies flutter in my belly as I retch and the sweet puppy love stares of devotion seem as exciting as my dentist’s waiting room.

However, for as extensively as I search, I have yet to find that the ardor of all hearts is represented. For example, who has done the marketing for affectionate zombies? They have feelings too! Who sells them chocolate covered brains? Who makes the reservations for a secluded table under the cover of the vultures?

So much wasted passion.

Zombies also need advice for their devotion. For example, here a suggestion for a pick up line.

Fuente

And if you are in the other side, being the object of affection of a devoted zombie, here is a recommended line of action*.

*If you are not positive that the drooling, brainless guy requiring your affection is a zombie, just proceed in the same manner explained.

Those beasts!

2009-02-11T10:52:00.000-08:00

We love to believe that the world makes sense, our sense.

We see animals as these humanified and social beings. We give them personalities and emotions and we think they love us so very much and that they are the only ones that understand us. We place them in spaces where they don’t belong and when the mean evil dog mauls the innocent little kid, everyone is frightened and surprised (but he just loooves children). But the animal keeps being that, and well, we cannot deny these attacks are usually funny.

Today, a beast special: news reporters and animals (you decide which is the beast).

Leaping lizard

Cute kittens

Nasty bugs

Grapes and bats

Valentines

2009-02-07T12:11:00.000-08:00

February 14 is coming, and since the edigator knows nothing of the subject, research and inspiration was required from other sources in order to gain knowledge.

Specially for you: love...

Cindy la Regia

Love is:

This cartoon should not use the force

Caballo negro

*Sigh*

Of the time it was so cold the extremities froze and fell

2009-02-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

The other day, as we were waiting for the very late bus and we endured the marvelous temperature of -38C (which at this level is basically the same in Farenheit), a young man next to me, as he was taking his boarding pass out of his jacket pocket, had the bad fortune to lose a finger.

It is well known by everyone that if you take the severed part and immediately position it to its missing place on the body, the edges will weld without further predicament.

The Quixote even mentions this maxim, “and so when I make it and give it to thee thou hast nothing to do when in some battle thou seest they have cut me in half through the middle of the body- as is wont to happen frequently,- but neatly and with great nicety, ere the blood congeal, to place that portion of the body which shall have fallen to the ground upon the other half which remains in the saddle, taking care to fit it on evenly and exactly.”

However, this young man had the calamity, due perhaps to fear and urgency, that he situated his finger with the fingernail looking down and this has welded so well that from that moment on he became dyslexic.

Tampon maxi art

2009-01-31T13:56:00.000-08:00

Humans are creative and resourceful (ecologists would say, to the point of destroying the Earth). But in the minor scale, for a costume party one can turn that old blanket stolen from the airplane (from the time it was not considered a terrorist act to fly) and turn it into the marvelous cape of Count Dracula. When I was living at Playa del Carmen, two bricks and a plank made a fantastic coffee table and now my desk is comprised of several phone directories and a couple of shelves. Edigator the d.i.y.

However, because of some incomprehensible omission, the effective and wonderful use of hygiene products has been forgotten. I know that generalizations should not be made, for some crafty individuals, like Tamara Zeta Sanowar-Makhan from Ontario, are able to create a complete priest robe out of maxi pads 2(and some stuff about women, and church and the blood of christ… it was banned, of course).

Or a cute dress, made out of tampons and pads. And how it swirls when you take a twirl, like a a magic can can skirt. However, the downside is that if it rains it is ruined… ultra maxi absorbent.
Or some fine slippers, they keep your feet warm and dry…2
Of course, if tailoring is not for you, it is not necessary you desist.
Tampons are ideal for the USB 3(in sizes Regular, Super and Ultra, for the mega storage of data).
Seasonal decorations 1(cheap and recyclable, no more keeping boxes of Christmas ornaments, just wait for your next period and voilà, they are gone!):
Original and sensual jewelry 1(think about it, Valentine´s day is coming):
The Edigator, meanwhile, has crafted her own effigy.

Send us your crafts!

Sources 1, 2, 3

Submarine race

2009-01-27T08:40:00.000-08:00

Source

Here piggy piggy!

2009-01-23T14:21:00.000-08:00

I love beer. I love its taste, its texture, its foam, I love it completely. But I hate beer publicity. And when I say hate, do imagine the hate that has the torches, the picks, the mobs, and is chanting ouside the castle "burn burn burn".
Apparently, the people in charge of promoting its drinking, after careful market analysis and five digit salaries, believe that those who ingest this beverage are basically pigs.
If one studies its target audience it is easily spotted that the companies think the drinkers are brainless, sexist, stupid men whose ultimate desire in life (the loooong quest of existence) is limited to finding the remote for the T.V.
I see these ads and am repulsed (with the eyes rolling back and the foaming at the mouth) but people see them and laugh, and are able to take a joke juar juar juar, and buy and buy even more.
Is the edigator wrong?
Here are four videos from four different countries:
American Pigs.

Danish Pigs.

Mexican Pigs.

Irish Pigs.

Of course, it would not be fair if I did not do it, so... I also give you the opposite case:
Just Pigs.

Lord, help my poor soul

2009-01-18T00:01:00.000-08:00

I can not imagine that 200 years ago, when he was born, his mother could have suspected that 40 years later the comatose body of her babe would be lying life-less on a ditch in front of a tavern. That mangy dogs and scruffy rats would jump over his inert body, but his repulsive smell would impede them make the traditional sniffing performed by such critters. That her precious son´s life, in practical terms, had been pathetic and miserable. And she never knew, for she departed this life when he was 2. A somber existence, it seems to be, an unfortunate marriage to a 13-year old cousin (who died at 15), zero monetary gains, no properties, gambling debts, addicted to various drugs, a complete and total loser… lying in a puddle besides the sidewalk, being soaked in borrowed clothes. His last four days would be spent in a hospital, amidst delirium and hallucinations, refusing even to drink water. And the causes of his death were inconclusive, either because of his abuse of alcohol, or rabies (he was probably bitten by a bat during his long hours of insomnia, or by any of his numerous dogs and cats he kept in his house), or syphilis, or suicide, or murder, or it simply does not matter. Alcoholic, gambler, unwell, pedophile, incestuous, good for nothing, disinherited, just like that, Edgar Allan Poe died.

Perhaps, the parameters we use to measure success are skewed.

Move those balls!

2009-01-17T11:41:00.000-08:00

Use your mouse to start the motion.
Source: Newton´s Cradle

Mating Rituals

2009-01-13T20:55:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine states that human mating behaviour is absurd and should be abolished. Instead of ridiculous courtships one should plainly state "hey, I like you" and the other should simply reply, "you know, I like you too", and then go out to leave a full and satisfactory life as if they were bonobos.

But this utopic idea is impossible to accomplish in this life, that is why we have fiction such as films and books. However, I would like to clarify that human rituals are no less strange than some of our fellow earth creatures.

The cichlid fish, for example, is an interesting critter. The female lays the unfecundated eggs and lovingly picks them up with her mouth. The male, on the other hand, has colorful dots near his special private area. When the female swims by, she (with her fishy tiny brain) sees the dots, believes that she has lost some eggs and proceeds to suck them. The male, then, splashes her in the face, bukkake style, and swims off in the midst of raucous laughter.

In the video you can see how the fishes repeat several times the scene, since they are professional porn actors and the take is not coming out well. It is well known (by wiki) that in order to have a successful heterosexual pornographic film, there must be one at least of these events (96% of them confirm it).

For the flatworms, the ritual is a bit more complex.

They find each other, they like each other, they approach each other, bat their eyelashes and then... since flatworms are hermaphrodites, the next step is to decide who will be the male and who will be the female. Since females must lose their sensual flat figure and remain with the flatworm kids until they are off to college, both want to avoid it. So the decision is made by penis fencing!

They literally pull out their dicks and proceed to clash and clang them until penetration is accomplished by one of them. The winner runs and tells his buddies and the penetrated starts knitting.

For a video of the penis fencing, click here.

And lastly, one of those cases that make you feel good to be human, even if that implies blind dates, having to buy the red expensive convertible or getting a boob job... the porcupine!

The male must be completely sure that the female wants to do the nasty or he will end up with numerous and painful piercings in his wee wee. So he approaches, smells around, rubs himself erotically against rough surfaces (probably trying to get used to the sensation) and then he stands on hind legs and does the macarena.

If the female has not run away by that moment, he will proceed to shower her from head to toe with a long, warm, foamy stream of stinky urine ! If the female does not immediately stab him, then he will continue his approach and let her use him as her prickly sex toy. He will never touch her. When she is done, they smoke a cigarette.

In the following video you can perceive how a redneck couple wrongly mistake a porcupine sex dance performed for their 5-year old daughter for something cute and funny... just seconds before being covered in a golden shower.

So, we can safely agree that our mating rituals, in comparison, are not all that sucky.

Monsters!

2009-01-10T16:37:00.000-08:00

Monsters are those beings which go against the regular order of nature, however the concept of "regular" is yet to be defined. Also, monsters must produce terror, but then, is a monster any person who terrorizes? Are the idiots with the beeping machines in the airport monsters?
Monsters can also be associated to a place, if it is unknown it is frightful and fear brings along the gargantuan kraken, the fire-breathing dragons o the terrible penguins.
Today, we present a small bestiary of some of the lesser known monsters.

The Frankenpussy

"I am evil because I am miserable"

Supercunt
Defender of virtuous and virgin vaginas .

The Vamprick

Comes at night and flies away.

The Octopussy

Acuatic being, which by its actions resembles eight in one.

So long, traditions

2009-01-06T17:07:00.000-08:00

It is chilling to see that now in order to obtain higher market values with industrialization and the mass production, old memorable customs are being lost. Even here, in this green hippy town where I live, it is extremely difficult to find freshly harvested spaghetti (or at least one without pesticides). Spaghetti reaped by a small family, one that had always maintained this practice.

Of course, you might say that the Wisconsin weather does not help the crops and that the dreaded spaghetti weevils are now more resistant to insecticides. However, there is this special zest that hand crafted items have that is invariably lost in Walmart. Maybe I am just excessively nostalgic.

Who would have known that the 1957 documentary of the Switzerland spaghetti harvest would be one of the last films about this honorable and familiar tradition.

Anyway, if things continue as they are, it will be more common to buy dehydrated water than to drink it fresh. At least here, the majority still prefers the old fashioned way.

Storms, pft!

2009-01-02T10:27:00.000-08:00

So, they tell me a storm is coming. Beware, storm! State Warning, Storm! Classes cancelled, Storm! Be prepared, Storm! Someone Save Us, Storm!

My previous experience has prepared me to face a storm: if the storm has a name then you must prepare a survival kit of wine, tequila, beer and rum, cans of tuna and bottles of water. If the storm does not have a name, your survival kit is mostly liquor and crackers. So with this unnamed storm, I sat with my friend MCG to wait for the arrival of the help help storm.

And the hours went by between libation and monologues, I had even forgotten about the help help storm.

When her roommate arrived, covered in snow and hair, looking like a distressed yeti, I asked him has the storm had been postponed until further notice. He said, nay, it has been going on for the last hour or so. So I grabbed my coat and walked home. Snowflakes softly fell, in great proportions they floated down. Sound was muffled. I could hear my boots crunching as I walked, but that was it. No cars on the street, only glittery specks whispering down to earth.

This is definitely NOT a STORM!

Storms are fierce, vicious and brutal, full of sound and fury. They uproot trees, incinerate homes, hurl vehicles and cows through walls of concrete. This tender descent of endearing snow is more like a murmur than a roar.

Ok, for some a visual identification is clearer, STORM:

Not Storm:

So listen well, linguists, if there is no hollering and screaming and broken windows, no violent destruction of valued property… you need to change the name.

Storm, pft.

Religious experiences...Beware!

2008-12-27T13:38:00.000-08:00

During these holidays, people around the world get ready for a religious experience. Religion resolves our query about uncertainty (or not) and explains our place in the world, the meanings of existence, that is, it answers the ultra most important question of them all: Why me? Oh please, why me?

As a result, in December, Muslims prepare for Eid al-Adha, Jews for Hanukah, Christians and Catholics for Christmas, pagans for the Winter Solstice, Budhists for Rohatsu, Zoroastrians for Zarathustra´s death, etc.

Therefore, the prophets of the new millennium (aka the cult of the Scientists) studied the brains of the people during these religious experiences and found that… they stop working! That is correct, the epiphany is brought to you by a decrease of activity in the right parietal lobe (is the one that controls the senses and place in space). More information here and here.

So, if your brain is functioning perfectly and this causes that you are not truly experiencing the fulfilling illuminations and the perfect harmony begotten by these holidays, you can always do what Phineas Gage did (though, try to aim a little bit further back).

Happy New Year!

Happy End of December

2008-12-22T15:39:00.000-08:00

It was until this year that I finally understood what that creepy song about the "White Christmas" talks about.
It is about snow!!! It falls freely from the sky.

Since I have been hearing corny dull repetitive carols I will join the hoardes and offer you my very favorite song of this season. I believe it is the one that best represents the joyous significance of this holiday, that of total binging and family fighting... sigh.

(that is why I will never understand a holiday like ThanksGiving... who has heard of a party without gifts? )

Save the Bipolar Bears

2008-12-21T17:24:00.000-08:00

There are more than 2,240,000 internet pages that are dedicated to saving the Polar Bear.
But, what about the Bipolar Bears? They also need saving, little is known about their possible very near extinction (for more info about them, click here)
Common Name: Bipolar Bear, Ours Bipolaire (Fr); Oso Bipolar (Sp)
Scientific Name: Ursus maritimus dêmentis
Habitat: Arctic

Bipolar Bear, in one of her moods

There is still about 2,000-2,500 Bipolar Bears left in the wild, yet their future is unknown. Though in 1973, Canada, the United States, Denmark, Norway and the former U.S.S.R. signed the International Agreement on the Conservation of Polar Bears, this agreement is not enough to protect the wellbeing of this uncomprehended and unadapted predator.

The Bipolar Bear presents a behaviour which is defined by one or more episodes of abnormally elevated mood referred to as mania, then they also commonly experience depressive episodes or symptoms, or mixed episodes in which features of both mania and depression are present at the same time. In its depression the Bipolar Bear will sit on the ice and refuse to eat, being sometimes object of sexual abuse by sadistic sea lions (basically, all the vicious otariinae family, and their pals).

Here you can witness a video of a Bipolar Bear during a cycle of a typical Britney-Spears-depression :

During the mania cycle, the bipolar bear can kill up to 200 leopard seals (Hydrurga leptonyx), eat the flippers, and colourfully decorate the nest .

These cycles are extremely rapid and their behaviour changes swiftly. These patterns are associated with anxiety and a high suicide risk, for, as it occurs with the lemmings, when observed, the Bipolar Bears have been driven to mass cliff jumping due to the excessive pressure put on them. This, in addition to the thousands of antidepressants left by tourists, and the stress imposed by the high incidence of camera flashes, the Bipolar Bear is rendered helpless in its natural habitat.

Here you can see a Bipolar Bear, Blinky, in an unnatural habitat. Blinky walks rapidly from one side to another unnable to focus and do the "sexy pose".

If you wish to join the campaign in favor of saving the Bipolar Bears, send your contibution to the edigator. Cash and goods accepted.

She will make sure the funds reach their proper destination.

Gato and Cheese

2008-12-18T09:39:00.001-08:00

The edigator has a master (these is how divinity works).
Hir master plays with the edigator´s frail feelings by torturing hir with everlasting shrilling howls and inordinate demands.

In addition, Master has extremely sensitive taste buds which demand palatable morsels of pleasure such as... cheese. However, since the edigator is from a place were cows are thirsty and their tits shrivel and fall off, we came to Wisconsin (aka Gringolandia).

Just for the cheese.

To a place where cows prance happily, filled with mirth and milk.

So, finally, I bought master the much sought after cheese.

This was his outmost noble and sincere reaction to the much expected scrumptious delight:

Conclusion: Wisconsin cheese sucks!

teratomas

2008-12-13T13:45:00.000-08:00

I do not know if you have heard about this... urm... marvels of science called teratomas.

They are these monstrous tumors from hell. They can be lodged in the ovaries, testes, neck, tounge, coccix, brain, they can be anywhere!

The thing that makes them extraordinary, is that these lovely tumors have hair, teeth, eyes, faces, and sometimes even hands. They move. If you try to extirpate them, they hide. If you burn them, they shrivel and tremble (osea... eek!)

The Catholic Church used to consider they should be baptized before being buried, after their removal.

These are some disturbing teratomas I found in the internet:

with teeth:

with hand:
with face:

Anyway, I was reminded of the famous case of this lady with the vagina dentata (or toothed vagina). After several medical studies it was concluded that what was ripping, biting and chewing penises was her teratoma.

el perreo

2008-12-10T19:00:00.000-08:00

The hyper forbidden dance of the perreo, or as it is known in the US, the "booty dancing" was supposedly invented in Puerto Rico (they also wrongly believe that the chupacabras is from there). A brief explanation of this dance is the following: scantly clad girls thrust hips and buttocks as if trying to expel a tapeworm by the mere contraction of their intestines (for more information about the dance, click here).

Since most people need visual images, play at least 30 seconds of the following video:

But, did you know the real origin of this dance? The edigator, together with a team of highly specialized investigators, has found its most recent source 10 years ago in... Mexico.

Oh yes, the chuntaro style is the perreo´s father. Though instead of worms in their guts, they seem to carry a knife and a chain in each hand, do notice carefully the hip and butt movements between couples... it is just as the perreo.
Place special attention to the motions, the line traced from the mid area to the shoulders closely resembles...

El chavo del ocho. Kiko's interpretation is at least 30 years old. His discordant juts of extremities resemble the chuntaro style, take close note of the chest... its lineage is much more ancient ...

500 years ago the matachines were already jumping to the huateque. Follow the steps, the head movements, the peculiar feathers... we can find its beginning....

In the wild turkey's mating dance (Meleagris gallopavo) which is about 28 million years old! (give or take)

Therefore, our study has concluded that the perreo is actually a dance for the elderly whose origin can be traced to fornicating salvage birds, so the correct name should be the guajoloteo or (in English) gobble gobble dancing.

Omaigod

2008-12-06T12:34:00.000-08:00

When the edigator turned 33, she had the realization that her divine character would start to emerge even more and that miracles would start popping like chapulines during the summer. However, under her magnificent critical eye and glorious scientific perspective these happenings were not perceived as such. You see, in this modern era we need irrefutable proof or repetition of the event in order to consider something as true. But, since godliness also brings wisdom (even more so, for her Splendidness), the edigator comprehended the nature of the miraculous.

A miracle is something that happens, but is not replicable. Something like the birth of two faced kitten or the existence of a shark with a virgin mother. The context is the main element in these incidents, that what is improbable is considered miraculous. So, if one knows less of what can be done, more occurrences are considered miracles. That is the reason why miracles can not be exported, since a phenomenon is always probable somewhere else. And also, that is why nowadays in cities we almost have no miracles (yet in little towns, at least two happen each year).
After such epiphany, the fabulous edigator confronted the world to show her followers her mission as an ultra divine being.

First, she walked on water.

Then she transformed bread...
...to fishes.

And lastly, she turned wine...

... into water, ( urm... 95% water).
Prayers to the Divine Edigator will be recieved from six to eight, since her celestial workload is high.

bidé

2008-12-02T22:14:00.000-08:00

We have already had a nice short history lesson (click here)about a particular machine that dwells in european restrooms.

Though, a normal person may wrongly believe that a toilet, a shower and a sink are enough to perform the necessary corporal cleanliness, our first world compadres insist that we actually need a special contrivance just to irrigate... you know... there. Et voilá...The bidet!

In order to dispel doubts I have added a very simple diagram showing how this thing works:

According to the old world, the correct way to position the body over the device is usually the following:

However, if up to now, somehow you have managed to keep your special private area (you know... there) quite spotless, and you plan to invest some money in getting a bidet, think of all the ways you could take advantage of this gadget:

Scrubbing feet! (an ideal way to meet friends)

Actually completing cat washing (no more nasty scratching!)

Storing your beer (especially if you live in a rat hole, I mean, an Efficiency )

Washing your hair (and you don´t even get your clothes wet)

And finally... Bathing babies! (just think about it, if baby falls... no problem!)

Cats galore

2008-11-26T13:38:00.000-08:00

There is basically two kinds of humans: those who love cats and those who have never had a cat.
On this topic, there is this wonderful short movie, -however it is possible that as soon as you press play PETA will knock down your door and spray you with red paint (or flour) or any non denomination Animal Rights Association will place a bomb in your living room.- Hope that does not happen to you, because...here it is!

It is based on a song composed in 1893. (info here)

But if you belong to the second kind of humans, do consider, querid@:

Colorful snow

2008-11-22T13:16:00.000-08:00

See, the thing is that when snow is falling from the sky it floats gently, it is like tranquil rain, like a liquid sigh. It is beautiful and ephemeral. But then it lands on the ground and stays there.
For seven months.
I am delighted by snow in the air. But on the floor… The soil is blanketed with hard concrete that absorbs nothing. And people spit, vomit and pee on it. Then they walk their dogs who do the same. And let´s not forget about the squirrels, rabbits, other rodents and birds. Just in my bus stop there is a mound of crow excrement from two weeks ago. It was dropped, plop, and is still there.
Hence, the streets will be covered with snow and bodily (solid) fluids.

For seven months.

Yet everyone survives, they simply start putting up warnings for the children (and for the edigator):
Cover your ears or you might lose them.
Don´t lick lampposts.
Do NOT eat yellow snow.

A Night at the (not) Opera

2008-11-21T19:05:00.000-08:00

Today they are showing Madama Butterfly in the theatre.
I see the posters, imagine buying a ticket... yet my background experience whispers in my ear: edigator, if you go to the opera you will encounter screaming fat banshees and an orchestra that will receive a standing ovation as soon as they finish tuning their instruments.
I try to explain this to the world, the opera is way too jazzy for me, it is like a bad andrew lloyd weber with worse wardrobe, it is like a pre-school spring festival...
edigator, do you like the opera?
edigator whines, winces a little, bites her lip, no no no.
Maybe this might enlighten you:

2008-11-15T12:55:00.000-08:00

After the previous post, the piñatas called me and demanded me to tell their own version.

According to them, piñatas are exploited. As the layers of brightly colored papier machié are applied nobody indicates that they will be tortured, hung from a rope, surrounded and prodded with sticks. They say that as they overhang looking down they can see how the diminute humans greedily fight over their spilled entrails.

And I must admit the different perspective approach was not moving me to tell the tale, I mean, are we now going to start telling something in order to include all versions? according to the rope? to the stick? Osea, hellow, we have to draw the line somewhere, the edigator is not the UNESCO. But... I must concede that there was one particular piñata with this heart warming story, and then I just knew I had to tell it here.

Viewer discretion advised:

2008-11-14T12:18:00.000-08:00

We could say that childhood is marked by those moments reminiscenced with a sigh, by those nostalgic flashbacks filled with enormous intake of breaths, that are ingrained in our minds so strongly that they have helped produce incredibly wealthy psychiatrists.

Basically, we can say that we spend most of our adult life trying to erase trauma.

In addition to your dead pet turtle, seeing mommy and daddy doing that, school taunting, etc., adult Mexicans have to also erase memories of piñatas.
And just a little know-how of the piñata situation for non-Mexicans:
1. The piñata is the spitting image of the uttermost admired superhero.
2. The piñata is literally torn apart in front of a terrified child who stands aghast.
3. There is always some little snot that steals your candy.
4. And without exception, someone unfailingly gets hurt.

2008-11-11T20:42:00.000-08:00

Recent studies from the New Mexico University at Ruidoso in alliance with the Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Inferiores de Monterrey have announced the discovery that cell phones do not exist. Apparently they have been been nothing but a fictional creation. According to the studies, the effectiveness of the contraption is as real as Grandma´s chicken broth for curing a flu or that walking under a ladder causes a streak of bad luck. I do not mean that the actual physical being of the cell phone is imaginary, but that the belief that they work is wrong. What it is evident, however, is that the population has been under the impression that cell phones are not only effective but necessary.
The pragmatic justification lies in the form of following argument:
I open my cell phone. I call my brother. My brother answers. WE COMMUNICATE. I turn off my cell phone. Conversation ends.

So it is believed (innacurately) that the exchange was actually established through the cell phone. This is wrong.

Meanwhile, scientists have been busy trying to figure out how cell phones work and give not very helpful suggestions which compare them to a transmiting radio, or by explaining that sound is transported magically through invisible waves. In many documented cases, however, phones without a current phone line or battery power have been able to receive messages (or even send them), calls that were not made have been answered, information was exchanged, concrete data about deaths of relatives was known, etc. There are numerous unexplained stories related to personal cell phones (if you want more examples, clic here )

After extensive research, recent findings indicated that cell phones work by activating neurological centers in the brain through the emission of non-ionized magnetic fields and radiation (BTW, this causes cancer of the brain in most people).

The stimulated area is precisely the one that stores emotional knowledge whose link to extrasensory perception has been identified in several occasions.

(An unexpected, but very welcome finding in the research was detecting why a person using a cell phone may demostrate violent behaviour (shouting, being disrespectful, insulting people, etc.), the answer lies in the position of the cell phone. If it is turned to a 45 degree angle, the area which controls inhibitions in the brain is turned off, in other words... rudeness can be cured with a twist from the wrist!).

After all of these investigations, what has been found is that personal cell phones are not used for communication, they are merely activators of telepathic brain cells with ESP potentiality.
In other words, we use cell phones to turn on our telepathic brain.
In addition, suggestion and superstition have helped in waking this considerable percentage of the brain ensuing mind "communication" between individuals. There is faith in cell phones.
To put it in very simple terms, besides having a similar effect created by any blow to the head, open microwave oven or lighting falling on the person, a cell phone is nothing more than a fancy miniature photographic camera and alarm clock.