Mr. Stuart.

This is not Mr. Stuart if not the representation of one of his comrades. Picture from Internet. PS: Not metaphors or secret symbols are hidden on this text.

This is not Mr. Stuart if not the representation of one of his comrades. Picture from Internet.
PS: Not metaphors or secret symbols are hidden on this text.

Mr. Stuart crossed the threshold like a lighting bolt. He lightly stopped a fraction of second to recover his breathe while the door was closing behind him. He continued his fast  run away for all the house until he arrived to the sofa where he found the blanket and he curled himself under it.

He was extremely scared. Someone was stalking him and that sensation, of fear and panic, made him tremble in his burrow in a way that even his moustache was shaking. Without to forget the strange movements of the blanket.

He could not understand it. Why that ruffian is following me? What does he wanted of me, a poor being whom works hard to earn the food each day? Have I done something to that beast without to notice it? Mr. Stuart’s agitation continued under the cloth without to can find any answer or logical explanation to all those questions to which not even himself had an answer. It must be he has had a bad day. He though. After all, I haven’t done anything. But… I’ve seen it! No, no, no, I’m not insane. He has tried to kill me with a lash… He must be out of his mind!

Although, before all of this, maybe it would be more appropriate to tell you a bit more about this poor creature whom suffered from bigger troubles than his own size.

Mr. Stuart was a being quite short for his age but, apart of this peculiarity there was not so many thing which make him stand out. Maybe, his rounded shapes, his short hands and feet or the lightly prologued shape of his nose and moustache would be a bit remarkable but nothing else. Well, thinking about it better, Mr. Stuart had always had a curious way of to move. He has never walked slowly but, sometimes, he has stopped for so long to look around him and when he has smelt that something was wrong he has continued on a fast pace; a walk closer to the desperation of the scared being whom believes he is followed and whom is ready to have a heart attack than a simple mosey.

Something which has always characterised Mr. Stuart it has been his easily frightened behaviour. Anything which you could imagine make him to start to run. That a loud object falls on the middle of the street… Mr. Stuart ran. That someone slams the door… Mr. Stuart ran to hide himself. That the wind blows hard making strange noises… Mr. Stuart ran even faster to see if he could even escape of the wind and of the sounds, of course.

The way Mr. Stuart dressed was not anything remarkable neither. The truth is, it could be said, to what the shy fellow liked was to do not be noticed at all. If there was any occasion of to spot him the outfit was always the same: a brown suit with a front cover of the same tone which was lightly fair.

Mr. Stuart’s job has always being quite routinely too. On the morning, when the sunrise started, he left his house for to walk for the empty streets towards his work place, which was not any prestigious duty: not a doctor, accountant, lawyer or other professions reserved for higher beings.

No. His job was one of the most humble but important which exist on this world. If it was not for this job a lot of creatures in this planet could not eat and, simply, because those same creatures will not have time to do what Mr. Stuart makes each day: collect.

Yes, like you have heard, Mr. Stuart was collector but not of any thing. He did not carried the metals, cardboards, plastics, empty glass bottles or other limited collective items from fancy films. No, my friends, what Mr. Stuart collected was fruit, cereals and seeds. Of any kind, he did not made distinction to any hard working at the field for to get certain loots. If he could give a part of himself collecting for to contribute to the community then he went the round and tiny Stuart to make his duty.

Despite he was quite mousy everybody loved him inside his community. In fact, he was invited to all sort of events and parties in which the fruit, cereals and select cheeses awaited. Because where Mr. Stuart lived everybody loved and respected the cheese and milk like luxury goods.

It was not until few months ago since Mr. Stuart started to change. Well, in real he did not changed, he was just more scared than usual. Soon, he started to say someone was stalking him and the rumours about he was turning insane despite his young age spread quickly around the area.

However, a shadow began to go after the different creatures. So many watched strange things, which they did not liked at all… Everybody became more afraid than usual. Even, so many gave the reason to Mr. Stuart despite they only talked about that inside their houses and not in public. So the poor Mr. Stuart was not really knowing if he was becoming insane or not because no one said a word.

A creepy figure trailed the area. The only one whom had seen it well was Mr. Stuart whom was very scared for to talk about it or even to talk about any thing. What it was clear, it was that being did not had any intention of to steal. He was not interested on fruits, cereals, seeds… Not even in cheese! No, what that presence wanted was to kill. And, it seemed, the fact of to hunt Mr. Stuart awoken on him some sort of primitive satisfactory instinct: a depredator instinct.

Of course, no one could understand why that creature had this strange obsession with the poor Mr. Stuart and not with the rest of members of the place. Although, supposedly, it was given for granted the reason was not other that Mr. Stuart was a bit more bulky than the rest of his fellows.

It is truth his work like collector allowed to him certain privileges that not everybody could have. And… So many times, he ate out of time what he should not eat, but in that consisted to live well and happiness. What else could he expect about to live? If not to enjoy, to keep humble and to leave in peace?

Now, he felt on his whiskers and on the bristly hair of his body that maybe it was not a good idea to have eaten so much for that long time. I should be thin and weak. Thought the poor fellow shaking from under the blanket. If I won’t be worth not even a penny and I’ll be light like a cork that wretched wouldn’t be stalking me. He’s frightening. Only watching his long whiskers, his long nails and his intense feline eyes I can’t stop to tremble. And thanks that I haven’t given to him enough time to see his teeth!

The blanket moved wavily in front of this thoughts like it did the tiny body of Mr. Stuart. Maybe he’s jealous and envy, not for my appearance or round look if not because I can get more fruit and cereals than no one. Yes, it must be that… But, what does he care! I’m not harming no one with my job. I only work hard to help others and, of course, to myself. How if not I was going to buy cheese at the market! He must be insane. There’s not a better option. Maybe he has run away from a house and he is hungry. Maybe for that he comes for me but, why for me?

His frustration increased in a way, that it had made Mr. Stuart had been lost for completely the appetite and the interest about anything. Even the fact that someone approached to him a piece of the good cheese did not interested to him anymore. The time passed and he did not eat, not drink. He did not go to work neither. He was just there: hiding under the blanket at the sofa.

Until it arrived a moment he found inside himself enough courage to make a very brave act: to crawl from under the blanket and to peek for the window. Fact, which make him come back, terrified, to the same spot after to check those awful whiskers kept outside waiting and stalking him for to eat him.

It could not be possible. What have the poor Mr. Stuart done for to deserve that suffering and punishment? Rodents like him only limit themselves to do their jobs, to live well and to look time pass. Which fault had he that no one had slapped well that smelly cat or, that probably, his owner did not feed him right? What does it knows the poor and humble Mr. Stuart of all of this? If, after all, he was only a simple field-mouse whom loved cheese!

Suddenly, and like listened for a bigger voice, the miracle was done. He listened noises. Sounds from the giants whom use weird machines. Shyly, he approached to the window and he let his snout smelt what was happening before to show for the crystal his round eyes. Definitely, it was the big people and for his surprise and happiness they were putting the cat inside a cage to take it away.

I knew he was a fugitive. He though. The real cats from our times are more polite and they are better fed.

The scene of the capture of Mr. Stuart’s stalker awoke in him a huge relief which, like a good mouse, it woken up and immediate effect which cheered his appetite directing him towards the piece of cheese whom someone, probably one of the giant’s cubs of the house, have let there for him.

He took the piece of cheese with his small hands and he approached again to the window to watch the scene of how his nightmare finished. It had been like their own personal terror film and he did not liked to be the main character of it.

He ate the piece of cheese like the giants and big people use to make with the pop corn when they see a film or any show. It’s good. He thought. Finally, it hasn’t been so tragic.

In the end, Mr. Stuart felt peace. He was free. That piece of cheese made wonders. Something  mysterious and fantastic also called: magic.

The Art of to Tell

Viggo Mortensen and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Viggo Mortensen and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

First of all, I would like all of you take a very good look to the pictures which are going to accompany this text. No, I can assure you there is not any hidden metaphor on them. In fact, they have been chosen after to have finished this text yesterday, after to, finally, have found a gap on my crazy writing day routine full of some sort of mysticism and “secret communications” or “punishments”. Life for everybody cannot be seen with the same shade of glasses. I think for that reason, certain folks change them constantly. But, hey, this is an hypothesis. Maybe it is a metaphor too and a vapid mind like me have not had noticed.

Let me tell you a short introduction of how the symbols and metaphors arrived to me. They were there, always, surrounding me and I did not noticed until I arrived to college and they almost kill me with the sudden shock. It is what it has to… Finish to study sciences and to land on what they called a social degree. Because, supposedly, that was what I had to do if I would like to write and to make films. As I have said, mind-blowing.

How many of you have hated, at school, the following physical problem? “Two trains depart each one from a different station on opposite directions. The Train A travels to a X speed meanwhile the Train B travels to a 2X speed. If the distance between the two stations is D. In which point of the route they will cross?” I know, annoying. You only want to know if the train will arrive on time no where it will cross with the other. But you have got the point. You are studying that and suddenly you arrive to Wonderland. Yes, I am not crazy. It is just my world is very different than yours.

On the new study plan it arrives… several fellows and they told you that on that problem that you are tired of to resolve there is not any train. That was all a metaphor created by the writer to hide a deep meaning. Then, you are like Robert Langdon on the wrong film calling Houston to say that the Apollo 13 has a problem. Alright, now you are in antecedents.

Meanwhile those fabulous years on Wonderland passed. The poor Alice felt more lost than the white rabbit outside Matrix. Wait, some of you are new on this. Well another of my quotes for to remember: “Don’t follow white rabbits they can lead you to Wonderland or worst, to Matrix.” Yes, I call myself Yoda for something.

Viggo Mortensen and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Viggo Mortensen and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

The case is I got a job on that times, a very funny one. Basically, my job was what publicists and HHRR use to do in huge companies: to read newspapers. I am not kidding. They are paid for to do that and for to other things too but basically the work is to read the press. This company was quite small but… Let’s say they do not needed that but the needed it for the kind of business they made. I had also studied some months of that degree -my apologise to everybody; I quit when I heard that I was going to pay for to know to which side must be put the cutlery on an official event; also to choose the right colour for the flowers: that is extremely important-. So, it seemed that my presence was the indicate for that job. What do people do on that job position? Well, we use to go to the press stand, to buy the WHOLE PACK of press. We go back to the office. We sat on a chair and we start to read everything from the first page until the last one. Thankfully, we are allowed to enjoy a cup of coffee or tea for to have to suffer this torture. That is the real reason because that brands love so much publicists and they make to us awesome deals. A kiss, from here, if it would not be for you, most of us at the publicity departments will have died on that misery daily press torture. Because if there are several working at the same department you can make turns, except on Mondays. Everybody hates Mondays for a very good reason. You should not only read Monday’s press if not the press from the weekend too with: extra magazines included. Well, lucky the ones whom could make reading turns…

Meanwhile you are reading, the obligation of the department is to look for cues which will talk about your business, company, the sector in which your company is involved… E.g. this company made sport’s shows but you cannot limit yourself to the sport section because maybe the information about a new building or sporting complex is not at the sport section. I am trying to make it easy but this was how it worked on the paper times. Now is easy with Google but a lot of information gets lost or missed  in between.

Each time that there is an important cue. It was obligatory to cut that piece of news, date it and to archive it on an album where all the things keep tracked in chronological order. No one uses to consult that albums except Elisabeth Salander -you have seen the film or to read the books- but they must to keep there. With the rest of the newspaper you can do whatever you want, at less you have a picky boss whom likes to read it after. So, you know… You must iron the newspaper to give the impression it is brand new and when he will open it… It would be some sort of classic Spy film’s scene with a paper with gaps. The bosses, NEVER will consult the album but they like papers ironed.

Viggo Mortensen  on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Viggo Mortensen on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

In other hand, there are times in which no one reclaims the newspaper and here it comes the funny part. Do you want to know how they started that “Anonymous secret letters” on films which were sent to make some sort of demand? The kind of elaborated letters made with letters or words of newspapers which had been cut and glued to other paper… You know what I mean. All of that started somewhere on a publicity department with a fellow bored. Things like: “I have your lunch. Pay me the following coffee or you will never see it.” Those things are part of the publicity department jokes.

Today is more boring with all this digital stuff. Still, I know there are some other Anonymous out there whom like to mess up. But take care with the publicity department folks, we were the ones whom invented the brands, the coffee addiction, the twist and shake and the anonymous letters asking for ransom. Really, have not you see Mad Man? It was not a metaphor.

Still, let’s go back to the main theme here: “how to tell a story” because that is a field in which I am afraid a bunch of kids are a bit confused. In special, with the “metaphor”.

I am shocked. I must confess it. It seems that on these days there are Easter Eggs everywhere and everybody is looking for the Easter bunny. Now, they think everything hides a “secret meaning” and it is their responsibility to open their eyes to the world and to reveal that “mystic meanings” to everybody using the new technologies.

Sadly, I am afraid I must blame for this to the DVD generation. Someone decided to create the Easter Egg to show hidden content about the film and, since then, everybody keeps looking everywhere until points in which people like me, the VHS generation, start to doubt if they are at Wonderland again.

But first, let me explain you what these people understand by “metaphor” because that has changed from my times to now too, and I am feeling terribly old. Nine hundred years or more…

Let’s take a film all of you have watched. And if not you watch it: “It’s an order.” Like it could be… Vertigo by Alfred Hitchcock. No,no, no… Forget about The Dangerous Method. It is only there because we are going to talk about Freud and Jung very soon.

So, you take Vertigo you watch it and you tell me what the film is about. Then, they tell you: “No, it

Keira Knightley and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Keira Knightley and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

is not about that.” And you check back if you were talking about the same film. You are doing it. Then you let the symbotellers explain you what the film is about. And they have a nine hundred pages book which explains it. On short version I am only going to tell you that it is all a metaphor about the weakness of the new hero style whom is slave of his own insecurities and fears until the point that he is put on a double side situation in which he only breaks himself wishing and lusting something which he will never could have: a dream. A dream about Madelaine which was not only the portrait of a ghost if not the metaphorical picture of how a woman can drive inside a man to make him believe what he wants.

On this moment you REALLY start to ask yourself if you have seen the same film than the person whom is giving the explanation to you and the problem is that: indeed, both of you have seen the same film. Which makes everything more creepy and scary that even the fact of to do not understand nothing at all. It is worst than the train problem. And the thing starts to get complicated when you study a new film, and other, and other, and other… Then, they tell you why Funny Games  is fun. And it is not. I swear. They look for explanations and metaphors to everything for to explain things that sometimes does not have explanation like it could be: “sarcasm or jokes” but they look for an Easter Egg on that too. Until the point that one cannot be sure if s/he is going to right or to the left but you know you are not making storytelling at all if not Freud applied to filmmaking.

Do you know a bit about the old pal Freud and Jung, whom followed his previous work? Well, I call symbotellers to these new storytelling version because they do not see the stories like a constant line if not like a bunch of separate shots or symbols to which they must give a full interpretation based on the background of the filmmaker, the title of the film, the dresses… Nothing is excluded of to be interpreted, even if an actor makes a wrong wink or it is not his best scene, that has an explanation an a meaning too. Feelings are not involved at all on this, neither the intention of to create sensations. It is pure basic symbol/ meaning and all are “metaphors” of something small or bigger.

Let’s say that they take “literally” the philosophy of to interpret the dreams applying the Freud techniques and they consider everything must be read like that on some way. I do not want to put myself on waters in which I am not sure at all. Still, I keep wondering if all of this symboteller tendency was born because someone had the idea of to interpret that way. Or, in other hand, because someone heard that old Disney quote about “A dream is a wish your heart makes” then, someone added that films are dreams come truth… And everything got bad mixed and interpreted. Honestly, I do not know. What I know is that I am tired that they do that with my stories but, even that, they do not allow that I explain that is not what the story is about.

Keira Knightley and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Keira Knightley and Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

I mean, it is alright, you can think whatever you want. You can interpret whatever you wish but do not make me believe that what I was trying to write was not what I had in mind if not what you are interpreting that I had in my mind because this is not how it works at all.

Before my Wonderland experience I was for ten years combining the train problems with music. Usually, when someone feels s/he has something to tell it is because there is something which feels closer. Maybe you had a very bad day and you write F* the Police, a problem with a girlfriend and you write Crazy but it is rare to find artist whom write things because “they want to say something”. Not on the personal aspect talking if not like they want to send a “metaphoric” message to see whom are the clever ones whom get it. Or are all of you doing it and I have just discovered today? Oh dear… I am afraid my whole life has been a lie and JJ Abrams will never explain me the secret meaning of the polar bears. *Gollum voice* There was a secret message sent there. Tell me, Gollum. Tell me.// My precious you already know what the secret message means.// We know? // It’s about to remember us to save the planet and the Artic which is very important.// Ahhh *Gollum voice off* I am sure the polar bear was not for that but I am sorry. I had to put my “Save the Planet” message here. And most people already know my personal jokes with the bears, polar ones included.

Still, this is the point which I pretend to arrive. I have taken a simple polar bear and I have twisted the interpretation of its appearance on a whole series to say that it was for to save the planet but what would it happen if I would have said it represent “the dangers of the unknown”. You cannot really know what is going on, isn’t it? It looks very academic and extremely twisted which, immediately, people whom does not understand of storytelling may think that person is more clever than them. But is s/he?

It is like the red coat on Schindler’s list. I have heard so many “metaphors” and interpretations of it as the duration of the film. That if it represents: “life”, “blood”, “the lost of the innocence”, “the cruelty in difficult times”, “the injustice”… It is so abusive the whole pack of different “metaphors” which people wants to see, that I traveled to America to see if someone could taught me how everything worked and, even there, I found a group of annoying people from Europe asking for the metaphorical meaning of the dress colour. I loved the answer: “I just put the colour the director chose. Next time, when you see him, you ask him. He is the one whom knows what all is about.” Sure, like you can find the director so easy… But I got the point, sir. Someone asked me the same question with certain green shot I had to create for a film… That is a very good answer.

However, I think the most shocking of all of this text is going to give you the “academic” explanation that they gave me about why Funny Games is fun. It is because it represent the enjoyment of a society which have found themselves without any feelings, lethargic, to the constant violence which hits their lives, in special television -for this reason the rewind and frame freeze style-, until the point they can find the most everyday diversion on the constant enjoyment of the violence. Oh dear… And I thinking when I saw the film that those lads where insane, wasn’t them? Answer: “No, they aren’t because it is a film and it is a metaphoric representation of another reality.”

Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Michael Fassbender on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Wonderland enough? I have not finished yet. Because there is also a film for which I was scolded without to even have had the opportunity to express my “metaphorical” interpretation. That film is Apocalypses Now and… Dear Hermione, If you had come to my Hogwarts you will not have sit on the first rows. I did, and… After this, I went to the back sits to join Malfoy.

Not need to tell you what Apocalypses Now is about. You all know. If not you must do what they told me: “Which kind of people whom want to learn to make films are YOU! YOU come here and you have not even seen some of the most important films! You should WATCH IT and until you will do it, I DON’T explain anything.” Worst than Snape… Really.

He asked me what did I though of the film and I simply could say: “I think it has a tempo lento…” To that, he raised his voice making an interpretation of my “metaphorical” answer giving for obvious that my “lento” meant “boring”. So I got the most terrible scolding in front of a class for to say that. NOTE: I did not raise my hand to offer voluntary to answer. I was the chosen one.

So, the point here is simple. If you want to have a degree which later it is useless because people does not have idea what you have studied. You must make symbolic films and symbolic television shows. You know, the kind of ones which really have a meaning… If not, well, you will NEVER pass.

For a person like me, whom has been almost all her life writing stupid fairytale stories the brand new news on that times where quite shocking. In special, when people started to look for the “metaphors” to my work too. Still, what I did not understand is how I made it to arrive to America and to find myself on the middle of a huge communications mess in which it seems the fun is to find all the Easter Eggs to my work. I mean, which is your problem folks? That two otters cannot have fun on a text without a secret meaning is involved? Is that I am not explaining the “secret meaning” or the “metaphor” right? Tell me, because I do not understand. I have never been like you. I do the things on a different mind wave format but later, do not come to me complaining because my format arrives more to a lot of people than yours. And you get jealous. It told you which is the format that I use and you told me that I was wrong and you tried to re-instruct me again on the right “symbotellers” path. So what the heck is going on with you?

Viggo Mortensen on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Viggo Mortensen on A Dangerous Method. Picture courtesy Sony Pictures Classics.

Well, like I have assumed that Freud and Jung are going to go after me my whole life on this Storytelling path which I have taken which is going to result A Dangerous Method way of living. I have decided: “I Rebel”. So, yes. I know it does not have so much sense but I am really watching that I am going to have the fault of everything, even of JJ polar bears… So, I will apply the twist and shout and when not I will disappear. And that’s it.

Now, for the ones whom are really interested in creation and real storytelling. I have bad news for you that most of you are not going to like: “One does not choose what s/he wants to be. We simply born this way or with this curse.” Still, if you are really interested on storytelling methods and to train yourselves on the Jedi arts. Please, toss away all you have learnt about symbols/metaphors and all of that. Read Zen and the Art of Writing by Bradbury. He is one whom has taught me more in my life about storytelling than no one else with the exception of Sidney Lumet.

Follow the method and practise a lot. Write so much. You do not have idea of how many words I write at day. I am afraid certain people is even annoyed that I do that and I write so much but it is on me. I cannot do anything about that.

Whatever others tell you, they are simply trying to confuse you with the “independent” and some strange stuff that they use to excuse themselves. Most of them accuse the classical filmmaking/music model of to be commercial and for that reason their “truth symbolic creations” cannot have the same opportunities that the other commercial staff. It seems there is some sort of “conspiracy” also behind all of that. We are working on it. We have decided to make a film about it. Although, personally, I think it is a cheap excuse they use to justify why their work is not understood: as they wish to be understood, and they have the correspondent sells which are not the ones the audience says if not the ones they believe it corresponds to them. It is very complicated.

So, let’s go to basics again. If you feel/want to be writer: write. If you want to make films: go out with a camera and film everything. Just film, do not look for metaphors and hidden meanings. That would be what it will do your fans for you. And when they will have turned you insane enough they will accuse you of to do not have any talent. So, on that moments… Just call Scottie and tell him to beam you up. Disappear in other dimension or galaxy until you think you had enough. Then come back and tell the story of your adventures on the otter space. So simple like that.

Still, before to finish, I want to mention something else. It is addressed to all the Premier organisers but specially to the ones at LA area. Do not lie to us. On California, it is not always warm and sunny. Can you please close the windows and doors of the Hollywood area when there are Premiers involved? Because mine was at the Egyptian Theatre and the dress was very fancy. Everybody wants to take pictures with a bunch of different cameras and you are frozen and you start to think: “but why do not they take one picture and after they share it?” All of that meanwhile you must keep with your perfect pose and to smile. Then people tells you: “I want to talk with you after the event.” And then they disappear and I keep without to have seen them again… I mean, it is not so fancy. Really, it is not.

Well, there is not any “metaphor” hidden on this text. The last paragraph… I just needed to say it. Good luck to everybody trying to find Easter Eggs and metaphors.

EXTRA: On case anyone keeps doubting about what is to find “secret meanings” click here as example. Thank you, for to have revealed me Guillermo del Toro is obsessed with shoes. It has been… Shoeking.

The Chirpywanglers


Some time ago I was quite naive. I had the crazy thought that a good gift for the people whom I most appreciated or I cared about it was to write a story which will inspire them. Sadly, soon I learnt that, for a reason which I unknown, people did not read the story with the classical moral concept or like a teaching if not they liked to put themselves in the story, like if it was a role game. Some, even needed to find on any part of the story a mysterious meaning or a symbolic metaphor which would guide them on their future. No, I am not talking only about readers of my work. I am talking about people with whom I have studied and I passed my time with.

Sadly, most of the things which a real storyteller writes do not have a direct meaning or symbolic representation. I mean: probably a psychoanalyst could read this work and s/he could use techniques to try to give an answer or explanation to what the subconscious creates but that does not mean that the symbols have a direct simile with what it is going to happen with someone in the real world.

In any case, and because this is a long theme to talk about and which I prefer to leave for other occasion, one of the main problems that to write a tale for someone has is that the person whom does not have a tale dedicated becomes jealous. They start: “Oh, why her and not me?” All those kind of things… People start to fight one against the other. I decided to take a Solomonic option: no more dedicated tales for no one. And then, I, ruefully, discovered that the problem is not that I dedicated the tale or the text to anyone if not people insist in to believe or to “see” that my fiction is dedicated to someone or it represents someone. When, most of the times, actually this is not how it works at all.

Maybe for this reason and for a bunch of so many more which has been happening on the past months… Maybe because it is my Birthday around the corner too. I have decided to write this tale to myself but not because I believe I am one of the characters if not because I want this tale will always remember me something. And to my weird way of to see the things, this is the way I like to do the things. Some people will understand my way of thinking. Probably a lot of people will not. In any case, I hope both of you enjoy the fiction tale and if it helps you in anything, like it does with me, you can let me know.

The Chirpywanglers

Do you know that times in life when everything seems to go wrong? Yes, that moments use to happen a lot… To start, you have done your laundry and, without knowing why, you have lost two of your socks. One pair was royal blue meanwhile the other one was red. You are sure you have washed both pairs one by one on your sink rubbing them with your hands. You are so sure of that. So sure like you have squeezed them and you have put both pairs to dry on a clothing line. Once dried, you have taken them from there to deposit them smoothly on their respective assigned drawer on the only one tallboy which you own for to keep all your clothes at your small room at the 21st of Oxford Gardens. Suddenly, they have magically disappeared. It does not matter how much time you invest searching on your room, turning upside down all the drawers and checking if there is something which have fell to other box or to the inner back side. It does not matter that you waste your time because you know that the missing socks are not there and your only option is going to wear mismatched socks until you can earn enough nickels to buy a new matched pair but then, it is going to happen the same again. So, naturally, you begin to forget about common wear laws and aesthetics and you start your own fashion trends. You do not really believe the odd sock trend started because a designer said it, do you? Absolutely not! It was because on the newspaper where I worked everybody had fun of me, Sebastian Canny runner and aspirant to journalist. Without knowing why or how, I found that my mismatching problem was not a problem at all, simply… How did they call it? “A writers eccentricity.” So, I bought it and I did not worried anymore in to have to save a penny to have to wear matched socks.

One day, I will tell you the story of why the socks really disappear but not today because now it is time to start to talk about the bad luck. It does not only starts with the socks, there is a series of different incidents which could happen in your life which determinate the real accuracy of what we call… Well, bad luck. And no! Black cats does not have the fault at all of that series of disastrous events in which it could be involved: since a fall when you are simply walking until that the person that you love gives you pumpkins or that a dog pees your pants, mismatched sock and shoes when you are waiting to cross the road while you are waiting for the change of the traffic light. It really sucks when you cross with that kind of dogs…

Some people believe the origin of all this kind of disgraces is because someone looked bad at you. In other words, what our grannies said: “He has cursed you.” Of course, like if someone with mystical powers has put a jinx on you, you cannot do nothing about it, just to stare stoically under the stormy dark cloud until it will decide to pass. That, or to do a bunch of no sense rituals to keep the bad luck away from you. You all know a bit of them, don’t you? They say you must always start the day stepping with the right foot and they finish saying that you must fill your room with all kind of amulets or stupid ugly things which will prevent that everything “bad” will stay away from you. In some cases, people starts to wear that preventive amulets too but that is also another tale.

What if I told you that your real problems of bad luck are not, in most cases, because someone has cursed you or he has envy of you. Yes, I know, it is mind-blowing but it is the truth. When Mrs. Arnsworth told me the real origin of most of the daily bad luck things, omit the sock issue, I was like: “Is this woman trying to fool me?” But, actually, she was right as she always is. So what I could do it better, as aspirant to journalist, to look for the right proves to demonstrate that what she was telling me was right? And then, to keep the record of it on paper as a real issue of the problem which happens globally and no one had noticed about.

The real problem with the cases of “bad luck” or strange sudden temperament changes of the people whom is around you is not a powerful witch has cursed you. The problem is you have a Chirpywangler pest, probably at your own home or surroundings. You could have several or just one but with one it is more than enough.

It was a Sunday when Mrs. Arsnworth explained to me how those creatures feed themselves of people and of the chaos generated by their bites. We were at her house, like it was usual, enjoying some classical tea afternoon old fashion style. Finally, Worf and I were friends and he did not snarled at me each time I appeared. In fact, the good creature was laying next to my feet and, despite I could not see him, I knew he was sleeping soothing at my feet.

I was telling to Mrs. Arsnworth the strange things which were happening to me since I arrived to London, at least one year ago. I had never had in mind none of that small incidents but since she entered in my life I felt everything on this world had an explanation: a logical one, despite of what some of you could think. I was going to tell her what had happened last Friday on the newspaper when she just said: “Oh, dear…” And without to have the opportunity of to say nothing else, she took my cup of tea and she added some lemon and extra honey to it.

“That’s much better, dear. You must drink it that way for a while. Now, let me see your neck.” She stood up, put her tiny glasses on and, before I even noticed, she was inspecting my neck and ears moving my shirt and sweater without any qualm. After a quick examination she said “Ah ha! Here it is!”

“It’s a mosquito bite. On these days they’re extremely annoying at night.”

“No, it’s not, my dear, that’s what you thought it is, but it’s not at all that.”

She took the lemon slice and she rubbed it on my neck. It really hurt and I protested about that. “Don’t be a child! Look!” She showed me the lemon slice, it had become purple. She throw it directly to he chimney fire and some purplish and green flames devoured the piece of citric. It made a spooky noise. Almost, I am sure I could have heard a languid cunning whisper saying “To the hell with you and with all whom burn me”

“What was that?”

“I’m glad that despite you are visionless you’re not so deaf at all.” said Mrs. Arnsworth sitting back on her armchair and picking up her tea cup with her lady like style. “You should drink yours, my dear. It’s the best medicine about your bad luck problems that you’re going to find.”

I obeyed her instructions. If there was something that I have learnt from that woman on the past months was that she was right. “Could you please, explain me what was that?”

“Indeed” she continued with the following story while both of us enjoyed some sandwiches and extra sweet tea. “The thing that it has been messing around you all this time is a Chirpywangler.”

“A Chirpy, what?”

“Chirpywangler. It’s called like that because it speaks on this kind of whispers or chirps which could not be really classified like tweets of any bird or any other creature alive. Just in the strange way as you’ve heard it.”

“Is that the thing which has been hiding my clothes and eating my food?”

“No” said she blunt “I’m afraid that for some sort of strange reason a bunch of magical creatures are following you. Fact, which I don’t really understand, because it’s normal to find those kind of cases on averaged kids which must be prepared but not in visionless adults like you. Are you completely sure you don’t remember anything strange that it could happened with you when you were a kid?”

“I’ve already told you that I’ve never talked with any sort of imaginary friends, gnomes, pixies or other creatures.”

“Indeed you did. Well, I suppose someone should have to keep record of all of this. So let me explain what a Chirpywangler does. It’s a parasite which feeds of three things. Two are purely physical and the third one is more… How to say it for let you understand? It’s more abstract. Because it cannot even be qualified of a feeling, neither a sensation, it’s, actually, the reaction to a behaviour.”

“I’m afraid I don’t get it. I’m getting lost.”

“But is the tea helping you, my dear? I understand you’re quite old for understand those things.”

“Yes, I feel more comforted. Like more cheerful” answered I, knowing that I should not get offended by Mrs. Arnsworth sharp sentences.

“Good, good. You’ll see, one of the things a Chirpywangler does when it feeds of you it’s bite you. The bite by itself it’s not important. It can be confused with any insect bite. The problem is its tiny teeth contain spellios a poisonous substance which makes people upset and to talk a lot, mostly, of things they should not. In overdose, it can cause madness or it can make the people whom is listening you will think you’re loosing your judgement. I’m afraid that for what you’ve been talking to me, you aren’t the only one which has suffered from the bites of that cunning creature. Probably, your landlord too. That would explain her strange sudden changes of mood. Maybe someone at your office must have a problem with that creature, not the same, of course, that wouldn’t be probable. At least you’re neighbours. Oh dear, I just hope we aren’t having another Chirpywangler pest like the one on 1822…” she took a smoked salmon sandwich and she started to eat it looking towards nowhere without to say a word. I felt worried too but I did not know what to do. So, I simply took another sandwich and I copied her with the same look.

After some undetermined pass of time she continued “You must know, Sebastian, that one of the main things which satisfy a Chripywangler is the chaos. It feeds of that, not only of physical things. For this reason, when they bite anyone they find their food in the reactions that this person, or animal, have with the other people whom surrounds him, her or it.”

“That would explain why that Jack Russell terrier hates me a lot…”

“Indeed, my dear. Indeed“ after a long pause she continued “Have you considered to get out of London and to go back to your Highlands?”

“Absolutely, no! Why should I do that?”

“Because you’ll resolve two problem in one: your life would be totally normal again and you’ll keep as blind as a bat.”

“I’ve already told you I left that place because I want to learn.”

“And I must to give thanks that you’ve just left your kilt back there despite, I can’t say the same of some of your obtuse ways. They make me very hard to explain… What it isn’t common for the normal people: what it belongs to a more wide universe.”

“Do you mean creatures from other planets? Because I believe that.”

“Oh no you closed door locker! How do you have the nerve to say the most foolish thought that it has come to your mind!”

“Aliens and extraterrestrials are very trendy on these days. People at the newspapers doesn’t stop to talk and to write about that.”

Mrs. Arnsworth stared at me with her deep big blue eyes. I am not sure if she was thinking that I was impossible or a lost case. What I was scared was that she, suddenly, took her umbrella from nowhere and she hit my head like she did on the first day. I felt like she was filling herself of well doses of patience before to continue with what we had left behind.

“Let’s focus again in your problem. Shall we?” I nodded speechless with my head. She continued with the fantastic explanation of how those evil parasites affect people and, indirectly, the people or the things which are at their side.

“A Chripywangler has a log viper tong. When you see one of those creatures you cannot really imagine they can have that inside but, still, they have. Their lingua can reach more than seven meters long which can make easily for that things to feed of a lot of beings without to be noticed at all. The teeth that contain the spellios are located on the same tong. In most cases, some of that small denticles keep on the skin of the person of whom they had feed. Just like you’ve checked when I rubbed and tossed the lemon slice to the fire.”

“I see… And why is it possible to heard that chirp if the thing isn’t here? I mean, if it was only some teeth on my neck… How has it been possible to hear a voice when you’ve burned it?”

“One of the things you must learn first is not all the beings are ruled by the common laws that some obtuse people taught you at school. The only one whom had certain approach about how all the real life works was Darwin and some donkey heads which were more close to the Neardenthals than to the Homo Sapiens Sapiens made him change his lines to avoid conflicts with all this kind of religious… things” said she putting her classy blunt tone making emphasis on the “things”.

“Are you telling me that all those religious beliefs aren’t right?”

“Of course not! Each one is free of to believe in what they want. After all, all the beliefs are based on historical events of some sort. The problem is not the belief by its own if not when people uses the belief as excuse to don’t allow other opinions: it does not matter if that opinions are right or wrong.”

“So do you belief in God and in powerful beings which control the universe?”

“Why not. Do you, my dear?”

I was dubitative. I felt like her deep blue eyes were reading something else apart on my mind meanwhile she was looking at me. “I’m not… I mean… It’s not that I don’t…”

She looked at me more inquisitive twisting her head lightly to one side while she was holding her cup of tea and saucer. In other circumstances it would have been the classy lady like look on a small chat. On that moment, it felt like if the Her Majesty herself was sat in front of me doubting about my loyalty to the kingdom on a extremely vital talk for the future of the people and the country. That was the powerful vibrancy that an old woman like Mrs. Arnsworth had. A power to project on the people around her. She was extremely sweet but scary. She kept with her inquisitive look until I found the enough courage to speak again.

“It isn’t that I don’t believe in God. Is just… I don’t think he is present in everything we do. If not, for example, it won’t exist that disgusting creatures.”

“Your intentions are pure but your logic is wrong. It’s necessary that it exist darkness to let the light to shine. Darkness and evil aren’t only for to make people suffer if not they are like trials or challenges that each individual must overcome. We’re here to improve ourselves not for to live without any problem at all. Despite, certain people, must to carry with bigger burdens or responsibilities than most of the rest of the world. Like you, for example, my dear. I am not sure yet, why you and not a younger one with a more open mind. However, be sure that what you are going to experience or to learn it’s just the beginning on a series of events which will feel overwhelming in most than one instance.”

“What do you mean…?”

“Better I don’t spoil the surprise and we keep with this chirpywangler problem. Shall we?” said she tittering slightly to something which I though it was really scary instead of fun. “Not all the creatures live on a physical body. We’ve got that perception of the things because it’s like in part society has taught you. You don’t really have the fault about that, seriously, and don’t put that face, you’re a gentleman not a child.”

“Yes, madam.”

“Some living things can have life in something which technically is not physical, meanwhile other things can live in several parts. Like… Bees, for example, you can consider each one of the insects as an individual but all of them work together for a final purpose or for the own sake of the community and their queen. Do you understand this, my dear?”

“Yes, it’s the same which happens with ants.”

“Exactly, it’s the same. With a Chirpywangler their denticles work exactly like that. They’re the ones which chirp not the Chirpywangler by itself. That’s the reason you’ve heard that. Maybe I should make you a test. Maybe you’re visionless but you can heard…”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure out that other day. When a tooth or several of that parasites is on the skin, most of the people can’t hear the chirps but their brains can. Sadly, they got affected by that. Some people start to think they’re becoming crazy because they’re hearing voices when, in fact, they’re really listening a chirpywangler suggesting bad things which will mess on that fellow poor life.”

“I’ve heard some things when, sometimes, I’ve been quiet on my room but I couldn’t…”

“You couldn’t remember or to say exactly what they told you?” said she completing my sentence.

“Yes! That was exactly what I was going to say!”

“Don’t worry, my dear, it’s exactly what it happens with those things.”

“I don’t know, at the beginning they were quite distracting. I though if I could have some wartspurts living on my ears but then I remembered they weren’t catalogued like a magical creature and that’s a fictional thing.”

“Who has told you that?” asked she severely.

“I’ve just read about it… It was a book. I don’t remember the name of who wrote that… It’s a complicated one.”

“Indeed, my dear. It isn’t a current name at all. On any case, I keep recommending you to have a more open vision, despite you lack of that” sentenced her fatally. I decided to keep quiet and just let her talk. Obviously, I had perpetrated some kind of zoologic classification crime inside the magical world… Or, whatever all this kind of new things are called.

“Before your mouth can say any other incoherent pearl and before you’ll ask any other thing: no, chirpywanglers aren’t like wartspurts at all. They’re neither elves, gnomes, pixies, even less, boggarts. Is that perfectly clear?” I nodded my head silently. “Good! For your unperceptive mind let me add that a chirpywangler can look like an Egyptian cat. It’s not a cat! It’s the disguise the creature uses for the people whom isn’t trained on the Paegnium Art! Anyway, it can look like that but to the real eyes it has a hairless body, bigger head than the rest of its body and extreme long pointed ears which are torn or bitten in several parts. That’s because certain chirpywanglers fight one between others trying to feed themselves even of their own species.”

“May I say something?” said I shyly.

“Pray, do it. But, please, allow me a few breaths first. I need some extra phlegm with people like you.”

I left her to take some deep breaths. To what some people can be thinking, because I must recognise I thought that too, there was nothing on that quirky expression related with the boogers. After what it looked like a time in which she was looking for peace in herself she made me a lightly gesture with her hand as an indication that I could proceed with my, most than certain, dumb doubt.

“I think I’ve seen the creature but I couldn’t be sure if it’s a cat or not” I got her keen attention so quickly that her deep sight made me move unquiet on the sofa where I was having this sort of interview with my strange new companion. “It’s the most ugly thing I’ve seen in my life. It’s my landlord’s pet, actually, and it has both of their ears quite chewed, like if it has had a huge fight. My landlord insist it was the evil dog of the neighbour but, after this I’m not so sure about who is the good or who is the bad.”

Mrs Arnsworth left her back rest on the back of her armchair with her two arms laying on each one of the sides. She stared at me with that powerful energy which made me no other option than to feel like I was a poor cat. “I’ll need to talk with that dog.”


“For what it concerns to you, never mind. Certain creatures, obviously, have more abilities than other ones.”

“Alright, so what should I do then?”

“For the moment nothing, my dear. The only remedy for to solve a problem like this is to find the real origin of it and you aren’t qualified, yet, to do that.”

“And that’s it! Like that! If that thing is really messing around and turning other people mad using a fake disguise we must act!”

“Sometimes it’s better to have a good plan before to send the troops to war. Don’t you think that?”

“Well… I don’t…”

“Yes, obviously, you haven’t lived that times and you neither know about that. There’s only two things you can do, for your own sake: One is, if you see any other insect bite rub lemon on it. Then, burn the citric piece. If it’s a Chirpywangler bite you’ll remove the bad thing of you which will prevent you’ll say more absurd things. Well, it wouldn’t really prevent your lack of quality comments but at least it will prevent the most dangerous behaviours and foolishness for yourself. In other hand, if it’s a common and simple insect bite. The lemon will help as antiseptic so you’ll not have to worry about it”

“Alright, thanks. And which is the second thing?”

“To drink extra honey sweet with lemon juice tea.”

“Is that really a medicine?”

“No. It’s a cure. The best remedy against spellios bites are the ingredients that I’ve mentioned and some good laughs. It’s well known the curative power of to smile on that science called homeopathy.”

“Excuse me, my lady, but I haven’t found this conversation fun at all.”

“That’s, my dear, because you’ve not received any training at all.” She looked at me and she smiled slightly. I noticed the weight of Worf moved, somehow, he was not laying next to my feet anymore. “You can go now. We’ll talk more next week. I think you already know were the door is.”

She just made a gesture with her hands like taking me out of her place. I was starting to familiarise myself with those kind of strange situations and interviews but she had let me worried this time: how could I defend myself of that cunning thing or of the other strange creatures that for a reason which she did not even know were following me. What was that which had been planned for me? Definitely, it was better to do not look back and to continue with whatever that thing was going to be.

I closed her door and I walked outside towards her small backyard which lead directly to the park. I doubted in if to go back to the newspaper to use their typing machines or to go back to my small room. Finally, I decided it was better to go back to my place.

With the time and more conversations with this prodigious woman I discovered a few interesting things like: it seems it was my naive character the one which make her loose her temper and composure, but a few more things about fantastic beings also.

For incredible that it could result to you, a Chirpywangler is not the thing which eats your socks, that is called a Sokten and despite that small troubles which it creates it is quite inoffensive. Chirpywanglers, in other hand, are treacherous, evil and cunning. They are also quite disgusting.

If someone is not well trained or does not have an open vision mind they are easily confused by extreme ugly Egyptian cats. However, that is the natural disguise that a Chirpywangler adopts to start to fool everybody whom it considers its victim.

Chirpywanglers are nothing else than parasites. They feed themselves of any creature: human, dog or cat. They favourite meals: chaos, blood and earwax. They are quite disgusting, in special, when they are upset because they cannot feed themselves of all the chaos and madness that they would like.

They are hairless and their head it is quite bigger than the rest of their body, with long pointed ears which, in some cases, they are crocked or they have several scars or bites. That is because some Chirpywanglers fight between them, they parasite even their own species: their lust and gluttony is insatiable until the points that Lazarus Misplanttcker documented on that famous 1822 pest to have seen Chripywanglers parasitising one to each other until they killed themselves.

Sadly, I needed some Spectatricums glasses to see the true appearance of that things but I can assure you you have not missed any funny thing. However, I am not going to advance how the Chirpywangler problem was resolved. It passed so many stories and tales between that. It would not be fair and real objective as a journalist that I am to annoy the readers telling to them the end. That would not be fair, just like those new modern French films are doing. You are not sure of what is going to happen on the story because they use all kind of new improvised techniques or cuts. Sometimes, it is better to be quite reserved and to do not try to always be “á la vanguarde”.

Why I Love Oscar

Oscar Statuette. Picture courtesy of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences.

Oscar Statuette. Picture courtesy of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences.

Let’s be honest. Who does not love Oscar? Everybody loves him! He is the perfect man! Even tons of men in the world are in love of him. He is the perfect guy, the perfect couple which fits with everybody. Do not believe me? Well, let me tell you a bunch of reasons of why Oscar is so loved and admired.

He is a bit short, but he has a considerable weight on the industry. There is no one working on filmmaking whom does not know who is Oscar and that, causes respect. He is also a very influential fellow. It is well known that once you have met him your live will change. Why? Because he is the perfect man. Maybe he will not cook or will clean the house for you, girls, but have clear one thing: if you leave him on a place he is not going to be the whole day complaining about trivialities like other men does about: meals, neither about how bad that dress fits on you, neither he is going to step on the floor which you just cleaned. BUT, above all, you are not going to hear him at all because he is the most quiet and silent guy. He really deserves his weight on gold AND he is purse size. Never forget that.

I do not think it could be more reasons on this planet to perfectly understand why everybody loves this guy called Oscar. It is truth that, in time to time, there is someone out there whom dares to say bad things about him. Of course, that is so silly like to try to convince the world that Dumbo really existed. We all know Oscar is the perfect man and whom does not know it yet… Well, you can keep trying it or to keep blaming him but take care, or you will have to argue face to face with Bruto Mascarpone. And, let me tell you something: that little fellow is really intimidating; Corleone was just a cartoon of him.

Since some years ago the poor Oscar is being overwhelmed by a series of tribulations and critics. He has not could find from where they come from yet but he is just looking in his perfectly pose to them like if that critics were not really with him. Certainly, because they are quite absurd. Why is he going to move an inch or to react towards people whom say on a fictional virtual world that the Oscars are so white? What is this: the dress talking again to see which colour was the right one? Are you blind? We ALL know Oscar is gold and black. There is no more colours on here. Quite boring outfit after all this years but they are his colours. Still, what are we going to do? Oscar is quite classical on his manners and he does not change so easy and quick like the fashion trends or the rest of the world.

Just in case, because after the past BAFTA it is clear people on the fantastic virtual world have lost the ability of to can read jokes. I am talking about Oscar, not about the nominations. Leave that complicated metaphors for the filmmaking experts.

However, maybe you are wondering why a hillbilly girl like me has this passion with Oscar. It is a long story which makes me come back to my childhood. The youngest of you probably do not remember this things but I remember…

Some time ago, Oscar and I shared the same day as birthday party. It was not a coincidence, I know. We are made one for each other Oscar. We are probably soulmates or something like that. You are my real man and my real one. To share our birthday parties was just a real prove of that.

Although, like I am so evil, perverse and twisted. I want to show you how really I met Oscar and why I fell in love of him at the first watch.

Yes, she has the fault of everything which has happened on my life. I loved her films, I even copied her thumb ring trend when I was a kid and everybody looked at me weird. Then, I wanted to be so funny like her and, somehow, I have finished living my own personal Jumpin’ Jack Flash. Girl, what is that? So, that thing that people use to say about: “Take care with what you wish…” Yes, people were bloody right.

Like I am talking about Whoopy Goldberg I am going to insert here a text which does not really have nothing to do with that 1994 Oscar Ceremony however, I must say this:

Do you know there is a huge marketing and publicist team working behind films, actress… to sell the films to the audience? Do you know that even all the efforts that this people can put most of the times people do not get the point and they accuse this department of to cheat them? I mean the audience accuse the marketing folks saying they have cheated the whole world with their copywriting style. I am just telling this because I went recently to watch Carol. Great film, congratulations to all the cast and crew. However, I was shocked. We were just a few, four or five on the whole theatre and… You know, as my secret work as a spy I use to hear others conversations. Well, it seems the guy whom made Carol’s poster cheated the audience, Cate Blanchett too. On their words: “For to be a Cate Blanchett’s film it hasn’t so much action and that scenes… Well, they were quite inappropriate.” Did anybody worried in to read the synopses?

So, applying the same rule, and because the folks whom make marketing seem to always have the fault of everything. I have a complain about a Whoopy Goldberg’s film. I saw The Color Purple. It was not funny. Hey, I was a kid and Whoopy was on it! It was your fault you sold the film wrong! Thank you, I had to take out of me this trauma from my childhood. We all know how traumatic life at that ages can be.

Anyway, the 66th Oscar Ceremony… I hope this has nothing to do with the Order 66… 1994 was a very good year. For more improvable coincidences that it can happen and they happen. My first film watched at a cinema was on winter of 1993, at a small town theatre screening of Jurassic Park, and look which film was nominated the day of my birthday. Again, Mr. Spielberg, you have also the fault of to awake on me a convulsive obsessive dinosaur obsession which made me collect all kind of texts about certain reptiles which were dead millions of years ago. When I talked about Plesiosaurus, Tylosaurus, Oviraptors… No one understood me. They said I spoke weird. Thanks somebody decided to make the character of Ross at FRIENDS a palaeontologist if not I was doomed.

Ruefully, I did not watch Schindler’s List until 2003. I think you understand why. What am I not sure is if certain people has already found the “secret” meaning of the girl with the red dress? It is not a joke. I do not know which obsession has certain filmmaking community with that red dress. Certainly, it was some sort of metaphor or secret code which it has not could be discovered yet. But, I have a clue: “It was to catch your attention and it worked extremely well.” Thinking about what I have written before? Maybe the question was not in the colour if not in the dress again? Think about it.

Well, as you can guess right, since that day I am following on a way or other the Oscars. It is not a secret at all. However, I did not took well that Oscar decided to change his birthday party one month early. Now, I got it but on that times it felt like if he was cheating on me. After all the time celebrating together in March our parties, then he decided to choose another day… That was not fair but I have overcame that. I have done it. Really. It is not a problem at all… Well, maybe, I DON’T KNOW! *Everybody loves to be dramatic and sensible when talks about their past. Why cannot I?*

Nominees for the 88th Oscars¨ at the Nominees Luncheon at the Beverly Hilton, Monday, February 8, 2016. The 88th Oscars¨, hosted by Chris Rock, will air on Sunday, February 28, live on ABC.

Nominees for the 88th Oscars¨ at the Nominees Luncheon at the Beverly Hilton, Monday, February 8, 2016. The 88th Oscars¨, hosted by Chris Rock, will air on Sunday, February 28, live on ABC.

In any case, I want to make a revelation to all my beloved audience and readers. Certainly, most of you know that all the Oscar Ceremonies have some sort of protocol behind: several parties, meetings, gifts… In special, there is one which is the most popular. It is called the Oscar’s Luncheon and on there the nominees go, talk, they have some pictures, talk more, eat something, keep talking, talk a bit more and finally, they are all invited to group pictures when all of them pose. Those pictures are made for to keep as a “class year” historic portrait and for the rest of the world are a game: a mix between Where is Waldo? and Who is who?

On this year, I have felt so depress because I have not could find Meryl Streep. It feels weird one of this pictures without her BUT, my keen eye has found something which I wanted to share with the world. No, it is not that you ate macaroons and other chocolate frivolities for dessert. It is a mystery. A real mystery.

Now everybody, take the picture and zoom it, forget about the handsome guys and girls which pose and focus on the left corner of the picture, near Sir Ridley Scott. Have you got it? Good. Now, to who does it belongs the brown shoe which shyly shows behind the curtain? Ta da… We can make a whole film with that.

Please, remember Academy Awards are tomorrow on ABC at evening, if you are on America… Do not miss it. Good luck to everybody and have fun. From here, in your behalf, we will keep guessing to whom the shoe belongs, whom was hidden behind the curtain and if it is some sort of conspiracy of any kind. Maybe a metaphor: the dress style.

A Letter To The Revenant

Leonardo DiCaprio on The Revenant. Picture courtesy 20th Century Fox.

Leonardo DiCaprio on The Revenant. Picture courtesy 20th Century Fox.

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING TEXTS CONTAINS SPOILERS. It was also written on private 02/10/2016

Dear DiCaprio,

I am so sorry. Really sorry. But, after what I have seen today I cannot doubt Hollywood is against you and, in special, your worst enemy is a Latino… Shame of that director with just a few directing work and so many Spanish texts filmed…

I have seen how they have made you: climb mountains, let your body be drifted by waters meanwhile you were covered by fur on a swimming bad imitation of an otter. Of course, when you have always arrived to the top they had made you go down: in extreme ways, mostly crushed by a tree or with bigger falls.

However, your will for survive is inspiring. After to try to emulate: Luke Skywalker himself, to crawl miles with a bad foot and without to be able of to sing or to say a word… You have found your way thanks to your dreams which were encouraging you all the time showing fragments of your religion and, the most important: your family.

Although the torture did not finished there. This evil Latino director has obliged you to see how the members of your family died, one by one, several times. He has even done that with your closer friends and the ones whom were helping you on your personal challenges and goals.

You have been obliged to watch, in your worst conditions, how a band of wolves had attacked and threaten the life of an American bison. One of the most magnificent creatures which love to live in peace at its own pace without to disturb or to harm any other species. And how a partner lied in your face without you cannot even move or to do nothing about it.

You have been stalking Tom for that, for miles on the middle of the woods, high mountains and a freezing cold which have left your beard frost. Still, you kept following him as an anxious stalker wolf which only thinks in to find its pray. And you did it just because someone wrote about it on a screenplay!

Hollywood has made you fight with a mama bear and survive just for only make you pass more cold, hungry, suffer and to make you climb more mountains and all for what? For to have finished stabbed by a dirty blade several times, in special at your back.

Yes, it is undeniable: Hollywood has something against you. In special, the Latino whom for sure is a member of the mafia.

Maybe, for that, in a last moment of hope and a call for mercy to all the ones whom had make you suffer, you have showed us a very close up picture of your bright blue eyes looking directly to camera. It is unfair. I know, I understand… But it is what happens when you believe you are The Wolf of Wall Street and you play with ones and others believing you are the f* King.

ALWAYS with love,


The Revenant is on Theatres and it is nominated for 12 Academy Awards.