Clear Bubble On My Cheek

The Myth of Rejection Death is a Lonely Business

What makes me who I am? Am I just an idea, a possibility ...?

Rodrigo Pardo Machine

less nervous and I remember two books I read about the same time: red grass Boris Vian and The Invention of Morel of Bioy Casares. At about that time my literary enthusiasms focused on the machines as a representation not only of reality but of all literature. Think The Invention of Morel in the machine, such as literature, and the time machine red grass as the ability to erase all that exists from literature or from the language.

The machine (García Lorca 2006/Teatro Award from the University of Granada), Rodrigo Pardo has given me back to that reality mechanized language, or consciousness, or awareness of language. In any case the relationship between man and machine (dark cliche of our era), that the book is between woman and machine (also female), constitutes a conflict tragically doctor (without the melodrama of TV series) : The work of the machine is kept alive Lucia, and, of course, the conflict between the two is around questions about the depersonalization ("dehumanization?) of life. A woman talks to a mechanized machine Humanized / feminized.

And suddenly I'm thinking about our online communication: we speak with a screen that ultimately is nothing but a reflection of our absence, the projection of a labeled by the empty loneliness: not a literary vacuum, but virtual. Like this:

MACHINE: You should say, I am a machine. A set of circuits and connections, scheduled to accompany, to protect, and now worried about staying alive. [...] I started running when I lit, when I spoke to you and the world, or rather, what remains of it, inert ...

LUCIA: ... I found a mirror of my own absences. It seems that I have nothing except food, talk to you, sleep, feed back, and so for ever and ever.