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Thursday, May 28, 2026

Mircea Eliade

 


April 30, 1997

Mircea Eliade said to Claude-Henri Rocquet:

(Cannibalism in religions)

"Set in the whole of which they are a part, these terrible, grotesque, revolting things recover their original significance, which was to provide a meaning for life that would incorporate the unavoidable fact that any life necessarily implies the death of others --- that one is doomed to kill in order to live.

They express the condition imposed on the human mind and spirit by history, a tragic condition, true, but very creative, too!

Confrontation with the void, with nothingness, with the demonic, the inhuman, the temptation to regress into the animal world --- all those extreme and dramatic experiences are the source of man's greatest spiritual creations.

Because, given those terrifying conditions, man was still able to say yes to life and find a meaning in his existence."

And:

"We don't live in a world of angels or spirits or in a purely animal world, either.  We are "between".

And I believe that confronting the revelation of this mystery always leads to an act of creation.  I believe that the human spirit is at its most creative when faced with great ordeals."

Ordeal by Labyrinth, 124-5.

July 15, 1997 Joseph Campbell (traducido al esp.)

 


Joseph Campbell taught me something important last night.  He clarified what I'm going through, and why it was useless to approach Antonio Skármeta.


...in a small community like Athens, the relationship of the creative artist to the local social leaders would be forthright and direct, they would have known each other since boyhood; whereas in such a community as, say, our modern New York, London or Paris, the artist who would be known has to go to cocktail parties to win commissions, and those who win them are the ones who are not in their studios but at parties, meeting the right people and appearing in the right places. They have not been quite enough engaged in the agony of solitary creative work to press beyond their first acquisitions of marketable styles and techniques.

And the next consequence is "instant art," where some individual with as little formal agony as possible simply renders something unforeseen --- which is then criticized and either advertised or suppressed by either friendly or unfriendly newspaper folk (his language is quaintly dated), who have also had a lot of socializing to attend to and, with insufficient time for extracurricular study or experience, find themselves baffled before anything really complex or significantly new.

................................................................................................
Joseph Campbell me enseñó algo importante anoche. Me ayudó a entender lo que me está pasando y por qué era inútil ponerme en contacto con Antonio Skármeta.

En una comunidad chica como Atenas, la relación entre el artista creador y los líderes sociales del lugar era franca y directa; se conocían desde chicos. En cambio, en una comunidad como, digamos, nuestro Nueva York, Londres o París actual, el artista que quiere hacerse conocido tiene que ir a cócteles para conseguir encargos. Al final, los que se los llevan son los que no están en sus talleres sino en las fiestas, conociendo a la gente adecuada y dejándose ver en los lugares de moda. No le han dedicado el tiempo suficiente a la agonía del trabajo creativo en solitario como para ir más allá de sus primeros estilos y técnicas comerciales.
Y la siguiente consecuencia es el "arte instantáneo", donde cualquiera, ahorrándose toda la agonía formal posible, simplemente arma algo imprevisto. Luego, la gente de los periódicos (el lenguaje de Campbell es simpáticamente anticuado), ya sea por buena o mala onda, critica eso, lo publicita o lo censura. Ellos también tienen que ir a un montón de eventos sociales y, como no tienen tiempo para estudiar o ganar experiencia por su cuenta, se quedan colgados ante cualquier cosa que sea realmente compleja o significativamente nueva.


From my diaries. Volume 11. 27 April to 26 July 1997

 


24 April 1997

Started reading Morris Berman's book and I'm surprised to find that what I aspire to mobilize 
is the 5th body, the Zeitgeist!


21 April 1997

On the bus I started to cry at the thought of my new loss, but I discovered my motherless child self was the source of the pain. The other part of me simply accepts loss, accepts what is, neutrally.

And that is the part of me that I love and that I wish to follow always.

It seems capable of holding me steady on my course.  It's a tower I can lean on, 
it will never let me down.

The words carry me forward, and their inexhaustible source: Meaning.

Oh words, how you've led me to my destiny.

I can only thank you by giving you praise all my life.





Mi padre, Juan Medina Ortega, circa 1965, con sus amigos de San Miguel Brewery.

 


Mi padre fue un señorito mestizo de español.

Era muy sociable, cálido, educado, para nada fanfarrón, mantenía un bajo perfil.

Era vividor.  Amaba las mujeres pero no las trató muy bien tampoco.  Era paliquero.

Me amaba a mí.  Admiraba mi buen inglés.  

Hablaba español pero nunca en casa, solo con aquellos amigos, mestizos como él.

Me acuerdo mucho de ese hombre en el centro, alto, moreno, muy atractivo.

Todos los hombres que trabajan en la Cervecería San Miguel, en el edificio antiguo cerca de Malacañán, eran buenmozos, mestizos de español muchos de ellos.  Filipinos de otra época.

Mi papá peleó contra los japoneses como guerrillero, porque su tío Ángel era un líder y lo salvó a él y a su medio hermano Críspulo, de ser asesinados por los guerrilleros filipinos hijos de puta.

Mi papá no era cobarde. Tenía principios.  Nunca lo observé mentirle a nadie.  

Perdió a su papá cuando él tenía 19 años y su padre, 49.

Yo también lo perdí cuando él tenía 49 años y yo, por cumplir 20.  Le dio un tercer infarto, cuando viajaba a San Francisco, California para reunirse con nosotros.  Colapsó en la fila de la inmigración en Honolulu, Hawái.

Menos mal, alguien lo reconoció y pudieron llamar a mi mamá en San Francisco.

Yo en 1997


                                                      Mi abuelo paterno, Emilio Medina Lazo




Friday, April 24, 2026

Iglesia de la Veracruz, Barrio Lastarria, Santiago de Chile

 


La iglesia del barrio Lastarria que sufrió un grave incendio durante el estallido social es la Iglesia de la Veracruz.
Este templo, declarado Monumento Histórico en 1983, fue incendiado el 12 de noviembre de 2019 por un grupo de encapuchados en medio de las manifestaciones que ocurrían en el sector.
Detalles relevantes sobre el suceso y el estado del templo:
  • Ubicación: Calle José Victorino Lastarria 124, Santiago Centro.
  • Daños: El fuego consumió gran parte de su interior, incluyendo el salón principal, el piano, cuadros históricos, mobiliario, puertas y parte del frontis.
  • Historia: Fue diseñada originalmente por el arquitecto francés Claude Brunet de Baines y terminada por el chileno Fermín Vivaceta a mediados del siglo XIX.
  • Estado actual: Tras permanecer cerrada por varios años, ha pasado por procesos de rehabilitación y se ha mantenido abierta al público en un estado de "ruina abierta" o museo vivo, mostrando las huellas del incendio como parte de su historia reciente. Según reportes de medios como The Clinic y La Tercera, existen proyectos en curso para su restauración definitiva.




Saturday, April 18, 2026

See with your own eyes

 



Just do it.


https://rumble.com/v78ne5g-911-see-with-your-own-eyes.html?e9s=src_v1_eh_us

Wednesday, February 25, 2026

Casas-hacienda en Perú, Filipinas, Chile, Colombia, México, Cuba.

 

                                                             

Hacienda Limatambo
A hacienda house in 19th century Perú.

They superimposed the old photo over the video but you can appreciate
the grandeur of the Hacienda Limatambo.  This was part of it.


Now I understand why the Spanish pooh-poohed the Filipino hacienda house. In comparison it was the poor relation of these European-style estates in Hispanic-America.

Mexico was one of the richest countries of Hispanic America, a Virreino or Viceroyship.
Meaning it was the royal branch (along with Peru).

A very imperial casa-hacienda.




Casa hacienda San José - Chincha, Perú.


HACIENDA - DIÓCESIS DE IMUS (CAVITE, FILIPINAS)

One can see a unifying architectural aesthetic, though adapted to the tropics.




                                                       Also a photo of Hacienda de Imus.


                                         Casa en Santa Cruz? (The last word is hard to read.)

                              The photo caption in English says that this was a farm house owned by
                         the Augustine friars that was destroyed, 1896.  But it doesn't look destroyed.
                         There are other photos where it does.


HACIENDA BUCALEMU, CHILE:




HACIENDA CAFETERA, COLOMBIA


                                     I believe that this hacienda house is in the "Antillian style",
                                 developed in the Caribbean colonies.

                                    According to Google, some characteristics:
                                      
  • Ventilación Cruzada: Uso extensivo de persianas, persianas de madera (persianas) y ventanas amplias que permiten el flujo de aire constante.
  • Diseño: A menudo cuentan con amplios corredores o galerías perimetrales para generar sombra y espacios de descanso.

Casa hacienda Trinidad de Cuba

Declarado también como Patrimonio de la Humanidad, se levanta majestuoso en Trinidad de Cuba el Valle de los Ingenios. El sitio aún conserva las casas haciendas que en el siglo XVIII convirtieron a la villa en uno de los lugares que más producía caña de azúcar, gracias al trabajo esclavo. 


Another beautiful casa-hacienda in Cuba:


                                                      Hacienda Fraternidad


Here it has clearly been renovated.



                                                        We appreciate the setting.





Sunday, February 15, 2026

Video of Rizal done with AI: First (and Last) Visit to the U.S.

 

Of course, he wouldn't have carried his own wooden luggage.
He would have had a bigger trunk, lined with leather, the kind that opened up and 
you could hang clothes in.

Below are examples of traveling trunks in the late 19th century:


                                                        This trunk was made of rattan.





He was able to finance the trip to Japan and the U.S. because he had saved a lot of money during his stay in Calamba from July 1887 to February 1888, treating patients, many of whom could pay him well.

Especially because there were few opthalmologists of his calibre outside or even in Manila.
Rizal was also trained in general medicine before he specialized in opthalmology 
in Dr. Wecker's Paris clinic.

José Rizal in America ... Journey Across the US)

https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?hl=es&shva=1#inbox/QgrcJHsHkJzGgnWdKqghtTcsVBXbhLQbZxb?projector=1


Worth watching.

A longer version could be made that directly quotes from Rizal's diary.  It is true that one of his important themes was racism, which was hardly mentioned in the little we learned about him in our lessons in the 1970s.


This is excellent, I love to see the living, breathing portrayal of Rizal.

Saturday, February 14, 2026

Will Spanish Return?

 



...to Filipinas (or "The Republic of the Philippines")?



It depends.

It should.  Because time is circular and new generations feel the need to connect with the past.  New generations are always dissatisfied with the world that the generation of their elders (parents especially) offers them.  They need roots.  They are not ready to be resigned and blindly accept "what is".



It depends on the consciousness of the new generation of political and cultural leaders, if they also feel that wish to illuminate the past, if they are not mediocre, only interested in filling their pockets or glorifying their names.

Manila outside Intramuros was a city of many canals and vendors circulated on bancas offering their products.  One Spanish visitor said the city had a similarity to Venice.

In my opinion, whether Spanish returns to the Philippines or not is now an obsolete query.  

This is a photograph of the principalía of a provincial town.
Please sense the air of formality, of dignity, refinement.
This is the world that I recreate in my first full-length novel.


If things continue as they are, it will not happen.  Not ever.  Never.

This is a photograph of an important public celebration.  Pay attention to the aesthetic, to the architecture, to the cleanliness and orderly social space, the modern transportation (carromatas, quiles).
One can tell that the people were well-dressed, well-behaved.  There is no sign of a lot of vendors selling food or beverages.  The entire scene is reminiscent of urban scenes in European cities, just that the streets are not paved and there are no European stone buildings.  However, there was urban planning.

Something big has to happen first.

There needs to be a Big Bang of some kind.

Outdoor theater was a very important cultural activity.  The social classes mixed in these presentations.
The themes were, as we know, adapted versions of classical Spanish theater about Christian and Moorish romances and adventures.


Or a Boom.

Something at the same or similar level as José Rizal's Noli me tángere.

The social class to which these young ladies belonged
was Hispanic Filipino.

But all of Filipinas was hispanic for over 300 years.

Just as World War I decimated an entire generation of highly-educated young Englishmen, the Philippine Revolution and the Fil-American war decimated our Hispanic-Filipino cultural elite.

But not just that. Something else that will be so big that the country's entire structure will become so deteriorated that the people will clamor for "the return of the olden days" but in the good sense.



Probably I'll be dead by the time the Double Whammy happens.




However, I like to think that I have been quietly doing some needed work to prepare the way.  Changes that level up a nation's sensibility are not things that happen from one day to the next.  They percolate for a long time first.  Underground.  They get a lot of passive-aggressive resistance.  There will be "cómo si" --- "as if" ---promoters of the Hispanic-Filipino past.  But they won't be reconstructing, they will be praising what is dead and gone and can't challenge them.  They will be the vedettes (showgirls), but they won't be artists, cultural creators.  They will at best be profiting from reflected glory and the rewards from their financiers and protectors.  

However, the regime in power will merely keep demonstrating how hopelessly out of tune it is with the demands of a changed world.  That it does not honor the people, it is only interested in the commerce of power.  Which is creating mounting chaos, disorder and causing the people to feel their abandonment by their so-called government more and more intensely, to the point that one day they must take matters into their own hands for the sake of their children, and for their children's children to have a country of their own.


I like to think that, through my essays, my short stories, my poems, I have somehow shed light on certain dynamics of historical/generational events that caused the future modern generations to take as Gospel truth that Hispanic Philippines never really existed.

In the novel that I will soon finish and find the way to publish (in a number greater than just the 1,000 copies of Rizal According to Retana and the 350 copies of Sampaguitas en la Cordillera), I open a window for modern Filipinos to see what that world might have looked like.  The novel is long and detailed enough to allow my reader to virtually step into that world, and experience it in a way that will be enjoyable, uplifting, revelatory.


A world that unfolded for 333 years deserves to be re-imagined and portrayed with respect, care and color.

That world did not deserve to be shut down, then oversimplified to the extreme of making us believe it was and still is utterly irrelevant to our 20th-century lives.  Even worse: promote the lie that it was pathetic, primitive and boring.

"Indio a caballo": wrong.
"Hispanofilipino a caballo": check.


No, mis respetables damas y caballeros filipinos.

Fue un mundo interesante, curioso, bello, y muy, pero muy filipino.

                      Tan hermoso como mi hija es hermosa.

I don't deceive myself that my novel will even reach up to the ankles of Rizal's Noli me tángere.


       Noli me tángere is the Manila Cathedral of Filipino literature.

(In my opinion, El Filibusterismo would have been as accessible ---popular--- as the Noli had Rizal left out some minor characters and reduced the political pamphleteering.  It's still a great novel, but highbrow, while the Noli is lowbrow. If you follow my meaning.)

(However, this opinion may change, after I read it in Spanish. I also still have to finish reading the Noli in Spanish.)


I will be more than content if my novel can be considered like one of these churches from the old times.  It is in Spanish, it describes the way of life of the people in this photograph as I imagine it, based on my study of our history in Spanish in the following sources:

***  19th and early 20th century historians' and writers' and 
***  travelers' accounts (Jagor, MacMicking, Álvarez, de la Gironniere, etc.)
*** my studies of Latin American literature and history
*** my experiences growing up in Quezon City, Cebu, Manila, Makati.

 I emphasize that my novel is filipinized thanks to the wealth of information on culture, mentality, daily life practices and customs supplied by 
don Pedro Serrano-Laktaw in his magnum opus of lexicography, 
Diccionario Hispano-Tagalog, 1914 edition.


Since it is in Spanish, it will have to be translated into English for most Filipinos to be able to read it.
I had to write it in Spanish because "the medium is the message".

You cannot bring 19th-century Hispanic Philippines back to life 
with a novel written in English!
Not even in Tagalog --- which I could not do either because I was not taught classical Tagalog, I am learning it from don Pedro Serrano-Laktaw, and before that from the Correspondencia Rizalina.

(You see, Tagalog was not persecuted, it was crippled, amputated. The erasure of Spanish caused the inescapable impoverishment, the dumbing-down of Tagalog.)


When I visited my mother in California she was proud that I could speak Spanish.  ;)
We were once in a huge hardware store, lined up at the cashier's.
There was a Latino in line ahead of us and my Mom ordered:
"Talk to him in Spanish!"

Of course, I was too embarrassed to!

¡Ay, mamá!

But I'm sure she is pleased, up there in her special place in Heaven.
And my father?  Uuuuffff, he was fluent in Spanish.
He was proud of me because my English was so good.
But now he's even prouder, because man, it has been difficult for me to learn Spanish.
Even more, to write properly in it. (Not like a carabao!)

¿Papi, estás feliz?
¿Lolo Emilio, tú también?

De seguro.

Y es en honor a mi pueblo, a su pasado.


Mi abuelo feliz.  
¡Te amo, lolo Emilio!  ¡Te amo, lola Librada!



P.D.   15 de mayo de 2026:  la novela está terminada y casi lista la revisión final.