Ciudad de México


En esta semana estuve algunos días en la inmensa ciudad de México. No deja de sorprenderme. Sigue cambiando y es la misma. Sus construcciones de finales del siglo XIX y principios del XX están siendo transformadas. Así, una fachada minimalista hace marco a una de piedras labradas.

Sus grandes edificios, moles de acero, concreto y cristal, son magníficos miradores hacia la ciudad. El sur con sus edificaciones altas marcan la trayecotria del la avenida Insurgentes que recorre desde el norte la metropoli. Hacia el norte hay menos visibilidad por la contaminación suspendida.

La ciudad se retrata a si misma. En el Paseo de la Reforma permanece una exposición de calaveras, enormes reproducciones de craneos decorados. Hay otras esculturas, una de ella permite observar la ciudad de cabeza. La ciudad sigue viviendo.

El Ángel en la cuspide de la Columna de la Independencia sigue su vigilia permanente.

A November to (Not) Remember

I know. The Blog Renaissance I promised has hit a lull. A major lull. Let's just call it the November darkness effect. I don't know what Arlo's excuse is, but I, like the rest of you, begin to suspect his "autobiography" may be somewhat slow to materialize on these pages...

Anyway, I was looking at Bill Simmon's latest column, when I came across this sentence, in a piece about taking his daughter to her first NBA game:
She was so delighted by the Clippers dancers that I'm more worried than ever about keeping her off the pole (every father's most important job).
Keeping her off the pole? Dude, that's your daughter you're talking about! What the fuck were you thinking when you wrote that sentence? Even the suggestion of one's daughter as a stripper is completely absurd! I repeat, what the fuck were you thinking?

The Amazing Stephon Marbury


You all could probably guess my favorite quote of all time comes from the always topical "If I Did It" manuscript. Peruse this moment of absolute sublimity:
I was in a lousy mood after the recital. I was exhausted, and not looking forward to getting on another plane, but most of all I was upset about my brief conversation with Ron Fishman. I didn't like what Ron had said about Nicole and the girls: We don't know the half of it. The half I did know about was bad enough, but Ron seemed to think it was worse than either of us imagined. I also thought back to my conversation with Cora, Ron's wife, and felt another twinge of guilt. I'd pretty much given up on Nicole, but she was still the mother of my kids. I had to do something; if not for her, for them.
The best part of this quote is the phrase "We don't know the half of it." In fact, it appears 4 times in the book and acts as a sort key to the Juice's unconscious life. I also like that he tells us "I'd pretty much given up on Nicole... [but] I had to do something...for them." So, you killed Nicole for your kids? Nice gesture!

The whole tome is priceless, well-worth repeated rereading. This ties in quite nicely with this quote I read on ESPN today regarding Stephon Marbury and Zeke Thomas:
"Isiah has to start me," Marbury reportedly said, according to the Daily News. "I've got so much [stuff] on Isiah and he knows it. He thinks he can [get] me. But I'll [get] him first. You have no idea what I know."
Just imagine an "If I Did It" style novelization of this absurdist saga; "You have know idea what I know" would stand in nicely for "We don't know the half of it."

Alas, it appears Stephon's days with the Knicks are numbered. It has been a wild, incredibly successful ride, nevertheless. I, for one, have loved every single minute of it.