News:

CompARTE

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Comisión Sexta del EZLN

Art, Resistance and Rebellion on the Net

ART, RESISTANCE AND REBELLION ON THE NET

Call to join the cybernetic edition of CompArte  “Against Capital and its Walls, All the Arts”

July, 2017

Compañeroas, compañeras and compañeros of the Sixth:

Artist and non-artist sisters and brothers [hermanoas, hermanas and hermanos] of Mexico and the world:

Avatars, screennames, webmasters, bloggers, moderators, gamers, hackers, pirates, buccaneers and streaming castaways, anti-social network users, reality show antipodes, or whatever-you-call each person on the network, the web, the internet, cyberspace, virtual reality, or whatever-it’s-called:

We are convoking you because there are some questions that are nagging at us:

Is another internet, that is to say another network, possible? Can one struggle there? Or is that space without precise geography already occupied, captured, coopted, tied, annulled, etceterized? Could there be resistance and rebellion there? Can one make Art on the net? What is that Art like? Can it rebel? Can Art on the net resist the tyranny of codes, passwords, spam as the default search engine, the MMORPGs [massively multiplayer online role-playing games] of the news on social networks where ignorance and stupidity win by millions of likes? Does Art on, by, and for the net trivialize and banalize the struggle, or does it potentiate it and scale it up, or it is “totally unrelated, my friend, it’s art, not a militant cell”? Can Art on the net claw at the walls of Capital and damage it with a crack, or deepen and persist in those that already exist? Can Art on, by, and for the net resist not only the logic of Capital, but also the logic of “distinguished” Art, “real art”? Is the virtual also virtual in its creations? Is the bit the raw material of its creation? Is it created by an individual? Where is the arrogant tribunal that, on the Net, dictates what is and what is not Art? Does Capital consider Art on, by, and for the net to be cyberterrorism, cyberdelincuency? Is the Net a space of domination, domestication, hegemony and homogeneity? Or is it a space in dispute, in struggle? Can we speak of a digital materialism?

(Continuar leyendo…)

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Enlace Zapatista

(Español) Asiste al CompArte por la Humanidad 2017, del 23 al 29 de julio, Chiapas, México

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

ASISTE al CompArte por la Humanidad 2017
CIDECI-Unitierra del 23 al 27 de julio
Oventik el 28 y 29 de julio
Regístrate en la cuenta:
asistentescomparte2017@ezln.org.mx
Habrá música, danza, artes plásticas, teatro
***TODAS LAS ARTES***
 


Fuente: Enlace Zapatista

radio
Mujeres y la Sexta , Redmyc Zapatista, Grietas en el Muro

(Español) Viajemos Junt@s al CompArte 2017

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

Viajemos Junt@s al CompArte 2017

Viajemos junt@s al CompArte que se llevará a cabo en CIDECI y en el Caracol de Oventik.

¡Saludos Compas!

Nos estamos organizando uupara viajar en colectivo al Festival CompArte por la Humanidad

Si estás interesad@ llama al 5554353824 o escribe a compartegrietasenelmuro@gmail.com

¡Vamos!

Mujeres y la Sexta

Redmyc Zapatista

Grietas en el Muro,Espacio de Coordinación

https://www.facebook.com/events/240130256490669/?ti=icl https://mujeresylasextaorg.wordpress.com/2017/06/24/festival-comparte-por-la-humanidad-viajemos-junts/

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Adherentes a la Sexta

(Español) Adherentes a la Sexta Invitan a “ESLamN de poesía. El muro y la grieta. CompArte tu palabra”

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

El Eslam de poesía, el muro y la grieta- compArte tu palabra, busca reunir a poetas y no poetas a que generen poesía a partir de la premisa “el muro y la grieta”.

El Eslamn consta de tres etapas.

I) -Jueves 6 de julio. Cafetería “La Dosis” 17 Hrs.

Generar un poema o texto que contenga las palabras literales MURO y/o GRIETA.

Posteriormente se abrirá un espacio de compartición de los textos elaborados y finalizara con una reflexión conjunta sobre los mismos.

Los poemas y/o textos elaborados servirán de archivo para la tercera fase en el compArte que se llevará a cabo en CIDECI, San Cristóbal de las Casas.

II) -Miércoles 12 de julio. Cafetería “La Dosis” 17 Hrs.

Elaboración de un poema y/o texto que conceptualize las palabras MURO y/o GRIETA.

Se puede escribir sobre lo que a cada unx nos refieran esas palabras, sobre cómo lo sentimos y/o vivimos.

De igual manera que en la primera fase, al finalizar la escritura se abrirá un espacio de compartición de los textos elaborados y finalizará con una reflexión conjunta sobre los mismos y los poemas y/o textos elaborados servirán de archivo para la tercera fase en el compArte que se llevará a cabo en CIDECI, San Cristóbal de las Casas.

III) -CIDECI, San Cristóbal de las Casas. (Fecha y hora por confirmar)

Con los poemas y textos elaborados en la CDMX (ciudad mounxtro) durante las dos primeras etapas, se abrirá un espacio en el cual se organizará por equipos para que elaboren, reflexionen e intervengan los textos.

Se dará un pequeño espacio para la elaboración de poemas por lxs asistentes al compArte, así como poetas participantes del festival.

Finalmente se presentarán todos los textos/poemas elaborados durante las tres etapas y se dará un espacio para hablar del proceso creativo, los resultados, así como la temática y los mismos textos.

——

**Con los textos/poemas elaborados durante las tres fases se pretende elaborar una memoria impresa del Eslamn, con los mismos textos y fotografías del proceso. **

—–

NO ES NECESARIO ASISTIR A LAS TRES FASES, pero nos sería de mucho valor e importancia por lo menos asistir a las dos de la ciudad para poder ver el cambio en la reflexión del MURO Y LA GRIETA.

——————-

♥ Nuestra visión en este otro Eslamn es la cooperación más que la competencia, habrá poetas invitadxs que fungirán como VOTANES* DE LA PALABRA y ayudaran a la banda asistente no-poetas o que no se le facilite tanto, la creación de su texto/poema.

Dentro de estas fases se aceptarán poemas/textos de personas de otras geografías. Pueden compartirlo en el evento o mandarlo por inbox o correo.

Pueden pedir informes cualquier cosa al correo gatxperrx@gmail.com

 

ESLamN de poesía, Adherentes a la Sexta

radio
EZLN

Registration open for the Festival “CompArte for Humanity” 2017

It has been announced on Enlace Zapatista’s webpage that registration is open for the upcoming Festival “CompArte for Humanity” 2017.

 


“Choose on which side you’re at, that of reason or that of force. Collective work of (self-denominated) art created by insurgent women and men from the EZLN. Greetings to the CNI-CIG.
For the ‘Comparte 17’ “

For the “CompArte for Humanity”, to take place from 23 to 29 July 2017 at the Caracol of Oventik and at CIDECI-UniTierra, you can write to the following emails:

If you want to participate: participantescomparte2017@ezln.org.mx
If you want to attend: asistentescomparte2017@ezln.org.mx

Click here for the pre-registration form for participants

 

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Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés. Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano.

The Walls Above, The Cracks Below (And To The Left)

The Walls Above, The Cracks Below
(And To The Left)

February 2017

The Storm On Our Path

For us, as Zapatista originary peoples, the storm—the war—has been going on for centuries. It arrived to our lands with the lies of the dominant civilization and religion. At that time, the sword and the cross bled our people dry.

Over time, the sword was modernized and the cross was dethroned by the religion of capital, but it continued to demand our blood as an offering to the new god: money.

We resisted, we always resist. Our rebellions were displaced by the dispute between various forces for Power. Those forces, always from above, demanded that we struggle and die to serve them. They demanded obedience and submission under the guise of liberating us. Like those who said and say they fight, they came and come to rule. There were supposed independences and false revolutions, those past and those to come.

Since then, those above have taken turns and continue to take turns in order to govern, badly, or aspire to do so. In past and present calendars, their proposal continues to be the same: that we offer our blood, while they lead or pretend to lead.

Before and now, they forget those of us who do not forget.

And always, yesterday and today, the woman is below, even in the collective that we were and are.

(Continuar leyendo…)

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Radio Zapatista

(Español) Y empezó a girar sobre sí misma. Resonancias desde el epicentro.

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

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Voces, cantos y testimonios de artistas, científicxs y participantxs de los encuentros CompArte (Julio-Agosto 2016), ConCiencias por la Humanidad (Dic ’16-Enero ’17) y V Congreso Nacional indígena (Oct ’16-Enero ’17). México, mero en su abajo y a la izquierda, intentando quizás uno de sus últimos chances para conservar la dignidad y lograr que ella sea el epicentro de un nuevo mundo…

(Descarga aquí)  

 

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Radio Zapatista

(Español) CompARTiendo Arte Zapatista – Obras zapatistas en San Cristóbal de Las Casas

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

CompARTiendo Arte Zapatista
Obras colectivas e individuales de zapatistas de los cinco caracoles

La Galería
Andador del Arco del Carmen
Miguel Hidalgo #3
San Cristóbal de Las Casas

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Subes las escaleras y de repente. De repente… Los puntos suspensivos los llena cada uno, al ritmo de su corazón y de su pensamiento. Pero algo es cierto: imposible no conmoverse. Conmoverse primero por la belleza, porque no hay corazón que resista tanta belleza. Pero conmoverse también porque en esa belleza, en esas pinturas, en esos bordados, en ese mundo de expresión está la lucha, la perseverancia, el oficio incansable de la esperanza.

A muchos quilómetros de distancia, en alguna ciudad de Brasil, en la casa de un artista que es un verdadero poeta del color, se discutía justo anoche la esperanza, que proviene del verbo “esperanzar”, y no de “esperar”. O sea que la esperanza es movimiento, es acción, es lucha, es el oficio minucioso y porfiado de construir otro mundo posible.

Eso mero es lo que dice el Sup Galeano en su misiva a Juan Villoro cuando escribe que son las artes, y no la política, las que “cavan en lo más profundo del ser humano y rescatan su esencia. Como si el mundo siguiera siendo el mismo, pero con ellas y por ellas pudiéramos encontrar la posibilidad humana entre tantos engranajes, tuercas y resortes rechinando con mal humor. A diferencia de la política, el arte entonces no trata de reajustar o arreglar la máquina. Hace, en cambio, algo más subversivo e inquietante: muestra la posibilidad de otro mundo. […] Como si en lugar de re-etiquetar la máquina, embelleciéndola o afinándola, el arte y la ciencia plantaran, sobre la cromada superficie del sistema, un letrero lacónico y definitorio: ‘CADUCO’, ‘Tiempo Transcurrido’, ‘para continuar viviendo deposite otro mundo’”.

Al tiempo en que comienza el encuentro “L@s zapatistas y las ConCIENCIAS por la Humanidad” en San Cristóbal de Las Casas, se presenta también la exposición de las obras zapatistas exhibidas en el encuentro “CompARTE por la Humanidad” el pasado julio y agosto, en La Galería, en el andador del Arco del Carmen, Miguel Hidalgo 3. Para quienes no pudieron asistir al CompARTE, la exposición “CompARTiendo Arte Zapatista – Obras colectivas e individuales de zapatistas de los cinco caracoles” es imperdible.

compartiendo

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Subcomandante Moisés, Subcomandante Galeano

EZLN: One House, Other Worlds

Foto: JORGE UZON/AFP/Getty Images
Foto: JORGE UZON/AFP/Getty Images

One House, Other Worlds

July/August/September, 2016

To whom it may concern:

Subject: Invitation to “CompArte and ConCiencias for Humanity.”

Yes, we know. Days and nights go by in which bitterness is the only thing that appears on the horizon. Our steps drag along in pain, rage, and indignation, stumbling every so often over the impertinent gaze of cynicism and our own disappointment; over the stupidity exalted in government positions and polls; over simulation as a way of life; over the substitution of frivolity for culture, art, and science; over the multiple tiers of disrespect for the different (the problem isn’t that the other exists, but that it shows itself”); and over a wholesale resignation in the political market sphere (“oh well, the only option left is to choose not the lesser evil, but the least scandalous”). Yes, things are hard, harder every day. It is as if the night has become longer. It is as if the day has postponed its stride until no one and nothing is left, until the path is empty. It is as if there was no breath left. The monster lies in wait in every corner, countryside, and city street.

Despite all this, or precisely because of it, we send you this invitation.

It may seem that it is not the moment nor the matter at hand, but we Zapatistas invite you to participate in the festivals “CompArte and ConCiencias for Humanity.” So, respecting etiquette, we have to send an invitation. This should be something that details a calendar and a geography, because we know that you have your own path, your own pace, your own company on that path, and your own destiny. And we don’t want to add another difficulty to those that you already confront. Thus, an invitation must include the when and where.

But you know who we are. You know how we are, that is. And the question that we think an invitation must address is not the when and where, but rather the why. Perhaps that is why this invitation does not comply with the etiquette of the occasion and does not arrive on time, but rather too late or too early. But as you’ll see, it doesn’t matter. That is why this invitation is very other, and why it includes as a crucial element this little story:

One House, Other Worlds

It’s more of a legend than a story. That is, there’s no way to confirm the truthfulness of what is told here. This is partly because it details no specific calendar or geography; it could have happened, or not, in any undefined time or place. It is also because the supposed non-protagonist of this story is dead, deceased, done, defunct. If he was alive, we could just ask if he actually said what it says here that he said. And as he was always tenacious in his wanderings through the tree tops, it is likely that he would go on at length to describe this imprecise calendar.

In any case, since we don’t have the exact date, we’ll just say it was more than two decades ago. The geography? The mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

It was Comandante Tacho who told us the story in the wee hours of the morning at the EZLN headquarters. He was describing the house of the system, the home of capital, the storm, and the ark. We were in our headquarters, the headquarters where what would later become the seedbed/seminar was born. We think we took a coffee break… or that we adjourned the meeting in order to continue the next day… to tell you the truth, we don’t really remember. The point is that we were talking to Tacho and it was he who told us what we’re going to tell you now. There is of course a little bit of finagling involved because we have added to and rearranged Tacho’s original words. We did this not out of bad faith, disrespect, or an attempt to mend faulty memories, but because both of us who are writing now knew the deceased quite well and can reconstruct his words and feelings. Here goes:

This is Comandante Tacho speaking:

I don’t remember very well when it was, but it was when the deceased Sup was not yet deceased. He was just the Sup, staying up all night and smoking his pipe. Yes, chewing on the pipe, as usual. We were in the shelter that was the EZLN headquarters, although it wasn’t a shelter because it wasn’t finished yet. That is, it wasn’t EZLN headquarters yet.  Perhaps it was going to be, but not yet.

We were telling funny stories, things that happened in the communities, in the meetings, in the work of the struggle. The Sup was just listening, sometimes laughing, sometimes asking more about what happened. Before I really knew him I didn’t understand why. Later I realized that these accounts would appear later as stories in the communiques. I think he called them ‘postscripts.’ I asked him once why he called an account of what had really happened just a story. He said, ‘The thing is that they don’t believe the accounts, they think I am making things up or imagining things. So I write it like it’s a story because they are not ready to see the reality.’

Anyway, so there we were.

So then he asked the Sup…”

Yes, Tacho has used the third person singular: “he.” In order to clarify we asked him if by “he” he meant the Sup. “No,” he answered us, annoyed, “he asked the Sup.” We didn’t want to insist because we thought, perhaps mistakenly, that that wasn’t the point of the story, or that it was merely one piece of a puzzle still being sketched out. So Comandante Tacho used the word “he.” Not “she,” not “I,” not “we.” He said “he” in referring to the person who was questioning the Sup.

Hey Sup, how come every time we are building a house, you ask if we are building it according to traditional custom or by scientific method?”

Here Tacho took the time to clarify:

“Every time that we built a house, the deceased SupMarcos would come and stare at the beams and rafters. Then he would always ask:

‘That crossbeam that you’re putting there, are you putting it there because it is necessary for the construction of the house?’ Then I would respond, ‘Yes, if you don’t put it there the roof will fall in.’

‘I see,’ the Sup said, ‘but how do you know that if you don’t put it there that the roof will fall in?’

I just looked at him because I knew that wasn’t the real question. It wasn’t the first time he had asked it. He continued, ‘do you put it there because you know scientifically that if you don’t the roof will fall in, or do you put it there because it is traditional custom to do so?’

‘Because it’s traditional custom,’ I answered him, ‘because that is how I was taught. That is how my father built houses, and he learned from my grandfather, and so on going way back.’ The Sup was not satisfied, and always ended up climbing up onto the central beam before the supports were finished and, balancing as if he were riding a horse, would ask, ‘so if I get up here, is the beam going to fall?’ And boom, he would fall. ‘Ouch!’ was the only thing he’d say. He’d take out his pipe from where he landed on the ground, light it, and with his head resting on the broken beam, gaze up at the roof. We would all laugh of course.

So that’s why he asked the Sup why the Sup was always asking about whether something was done by traditional custom or scientific method.  The thing is that it wasn’t just that one time. Every time that our headquarters had to be moved and I had to oversee the construction of a new structure for the headquarters, that is what happened. The Sup would come, he would ask that question, I would respond, he wouldn’t be satisfied, he would climb up on the beam, it would break, and he would fall to the ground.”

(Note: in discussing this between the two of us, we have concluded that the approximate dates for what Tacho is recounting were the first months of 1995 when there was such heavy governmental persecution against us that we had to continually pick up and move our headquarters, accompanying the community of Guadalupe Tepeyac in exile. End of note and Tacho continues):

“I am telling you this so that you understand why he asked the Sup this question. At other times I had also asked him this question, but he hadn’t responded fully. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to respond, but that always at that moment they called him on the radio, or someone came to talk to him. So I wanted to know the answer too.

The Sup took his pipe out of his mouth and put it to one side. We were sitting on the ground. It was very hot like it always is before a hard rain. I knew the answer would take a while, because when the Sup answered quickly, he didn’t even take the pipe out of his mouth; the words would just come out all chewed up.

So then the Sup said… well really, he asked:

‘Hey Tacho, how big is this house?’
‘3 by 4 [meters],’ I answered quickly, because it wasn’t the first time he asked.

‘And if it were 6 x 8, would it need more rafters for support?’ he asked me.

‘It would indeed,’ I responded.

‘And if were 12 x 16?’

I didn’t respond quickly, so the Sup continued:

‘And if it were 24 x 32? Or 48 x 64? What about 96 x 128?’

Then, to tell you the truth, I laughed. ‘That’s a really big house, I don’t know,’ I answered.

‘Correct,’ he said, ‘houses are made according to one’s own or one’s inherited experience. Traditions and customs, that is. To make a bigger house, one would have to ask or try something different.’

‘But let’s say that no one has ever built a house measuring 192 x 256…’

I laughed right before the Sup finished:

‘kilometers.’

‘Umm, who would want a house that big?’ I asked laughing.

He lit his pipe and said, ‘well, let’s make it easier: what if the house were the size of the world?’

‘Ah no, that’s rough. I don’t think we can imagine a house that big, nor what it would be for,’ I said, more serious now.

‘We can,’ he said. ‘The arts can imagine this house, and can put it into words, sounds, images, figures. The arts can imagine what seems impossible and, in this process of imagination, sew doubt, curiosity, surprise, admiration—that is, they make it possible.

‘Ah, okay,’ I replied, ‘but it’s one thing to imagine and another thing to do. I don’t think a house that big can be made.’

‘It can,’ he said, and put the broken pipe aside.

‘The sciences know how. Even if a house the size of the world has never been made, the sciences can say with certainty how a construction that size would be built. I don’t know what it’s called, but I think it has to do with the strength of the materials, geometry, economics, physics, geography, biology, chemistry, and who the hell knows what else.

But even without previous experience, without traditional customs, science can in fact say how many beams, supports, and rafters are needed to make a house the size of the world. Scientific knowledge can determine how deep the foundation needs to be, how high and how long the walls need to be, what angle the roof should have if it is a pitched roof, where the windows should be given the climate, how many doors there should be and where, what material should be used for each part, and how many beams and supports it must have and where.’”

Was the now-deceased already thinking about the transgression of the law gravity and all of the straight lines linked to it? Did he imagine or already know about the subversion of Euclid’s Fifth Postulate? No, Tacho didn’t ask him. To tell you the truth, the two of us wouldn’t have asked either. It is hard to imagine, in those days of no tomorrow, with warplanes shaking the earth and sky, that there was time to think about art, much less science.

Everyone remained silent, Tacho recalls. Us, too. After a moment of silence and tobacco, he continued:

“The Sup took up his pipe again and saw with sorrow that there was no more tobacco. He looked in his pockets. Smiling, he pulled out a little plastic bag with some black strands. It took him awhile to light the pipe, I think because the tobacco was damp. Then he continued:

‘But I’m not concerned about whether the arts can imagine this house, its colors, its shapes, its sounds, where the day comes in, where the night falls, where the rain falls, where the wind blows, where the earth sits.

Neither am I concerned about whether science can solve the problem of how to make it a reality. Of course it can. It has the knowledge… or it will.

What concerns me is that this house that is a world not be the same as the one we live in. The house must be better, even bigger. It must be so big that it can hold not one world but many, those that already exist and those yet to be born.

Of course, one would have to meet with those who do art and science. That won’t be easy. At first they won’t be willing to help, not because they don’t want to but because they will be skeptical. Because we have a lot going against us. Because we are what we are.

Those who are artists think that we will constrain the subject, form, and pace of their work; that their artistic horizon will hold only males and females (never others), members of the powerful proletariat showing off their muscles and bright shining gazes in images, sounds, dances, and figures; that they could not even insinuate the existence of the other; that if they comply they will receive praise and applause, and if not, seclusion or repudiation. In other words, they think we will command that they not imagine.

Those who do science think that we are going to ask them to create mechanical, electronic, chemical, biological, and interstellar weapons of mass (or individual) destruction. They think that we will force them to create schools for exceptional minds where of course one will find the descendants of those currently in power who have a salary guaranteed before they are ever conceived. They think that what will be recognized is political affiliation and not scientific capacity, and that if they comply they will receive praise and applause, and if not, seclusion or repudiation. In other words, they think that we will command them not to do science.

In addition, because we are indigenous peoples, there are some [un@s and otr@s] here and there who think that what they do is art and culture, and that what we do is folk art and ritual. They think that what for them is analysis and knowledge, for us is belief and superstition.

They are ignorant of the fact that we have produced colors that, hundreds of years later, still challenge calendars. They do not know that when “civilization” still believed that the earth was the center of the universe, we had already discovered celestial bodies and numerical systems. They think that we adore ignorance, that our thinking is simple and conformist, that we prefer to believe rather than to know. They think that we do not want advancement but rather regression.

In other words, they neither see themselves, nor do they see us.

The issue then is going to be to convince them to see themselves as we see them, to make them realize that, for us, they are what they are and also something else: hope. And hope, friends and enemies, cannot be bought, cannot be sold, cannot be coerced, cannot be contained, and cannot be killed.’

He fell silent. I waited to see if he would ask something else of the Sup, but since he didn’t say anything, I asked: ‘so what must we do?’ The Sup just sighed and said:

‘Our job is first of all to know that this house is possible and necessary. Then comes the easier part: to build it. For this task we need knowledge, feeling, imagination—we need the sciences and the arts. We need other hearts. The day will come when we will meet with those who make art and science. On that day we will embrace them and welcome them with one sole question: “And what about you?”’

I wasn’t satisfied with this answer though, and I asked the Sup: ‘And after we meet with these people, what are we going to do?’ The Sup smiled and said:

‘Etcetera.’”

_*_

That is where the story or the legend that Comandante Tacho told us that morning ends.  All of this is relevant at the moment because we want to invite you to come, or to be present in some way, in this earth that we are.

We have this curiosity, you could say, that has been nagging at us over the course of many pages of the calendar and we think that perhaps you will accept this invitation and help us to resolve a particular doubt:

What do we need to build a new house, a house so big that it holds not one but many worlds?

That’s all. Or not, depending on you.

From the mountains of the Mexican Southeast.

In the name of the Zapatista children, elders, women, and men,

Subcomandante Insurgente Moisés

Subcomandante Insurgente Galeano

Mexico, July/August/September of 2016.

radio
Radio Zapatista

(Español) Brasil: Nelson Maca y la Gramática de la Ira

Sorry, this entry is only available in Mexican Spanish. For the sake of viewer convenience, the content is shown below in the alternative language. You may click the link to switch the active language.

maca

El Sarao Bem Black fue uno de los espacios donde se realizó el festival CompARTE por la Humanidad en Salvador, Bahía, Brasil. En el aeropuerto de Salvador, entrevistamos al poeta Nelson Maca, quien nos habló sobre el Sarao Bem Black, encuentro poético del movimiento literario negro que se ha vuelto referencia no sólo en Bahía, sino en Brasil.

Nelson es también el creador del concepto de “literatura divergente” y del manifiesto llamado “Manifestación de la literatura divergente o manifiesto encrucijador de caminos”. En la entrevista, nos habla sobre lo que significa para él la literatura divergente y su relación con la politización de la diferencia.

Finalmente, nos habla sobre su nuevo libro Gramática de la Ira y su relación con la digna rabia.

Escucha la entrevista en portugués aquí: (Descarga aquí)  

Lee la traducción al español abajo.

gramaticadaira

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