…the clocks were striking thirteen
September 12th, 2007 por Alf
“Si hemos decidido que el debate no existe, pues entonces no hay debate”
Con estas palabras se ha despachado Zaplana cuando le preguntaban por las listas electorales del PP. Lo he escuchado en la radio volviendo a casa hoy, aunque no encuentro un link apropiado.
“O’Brien held up the fingers of his left hand, with the thumb concealed.
‘There are five fingers there. Do you see five fingers?’
‘Yes.’
And he did see them, for a fleeting instant, before the scenery of his mind changed. He saw five fingers, and there was no deformity. Then everything was normal again, and the old fear, the hatred, and the bewilderment came crowding back again. But there had been a moment—he did not know how long, thirty seconds, perhaps—of luminous certainty, when each new suggestion of O’Brien’s had filled up a patch of emptiness and become absolute truth, and when two and two could have been three as easily as five, if that were what was needed. It had faded but before O’Brien had dropped his hand; but though he could not recapture it, he could remember it, as one remembers a vivid experience at some period of one’s life when one was in effect a different person.”
Una respuesta a “…the clocks were striking thirteen”

“O’Brien held up the fingers of his left hand, with the thumb concealed.
Es curioso, siempre en la misma rueda.
Viendo los reflejos diferentes de un mismo prisma, uno llega a pensar si la vida no es un eterno deja-vu en el que la originalidad de ideas, pensamientos e incluso emociones son una función que tiende a cero… antes del infinito.
jag