Initiation Ideas For Societies

The House of Fear

Jacek Yerka

The darkness of the night went on like a hungry predator, looking for every glimmer of light that was to devour the last rays of sunlight.
The darkness made his way down the street from Red
Column ... I dreaded the night because the stars always accompanied my steps towards my home, and the moon lit up the sky with a silvery light. What made me feel uncomfortable, was passed by the old house that was hidden at the end of the street. A Victorian styled house is guarded behind a rusty gate.
had a sinister aspect, neglected and abandoned, however, the gloomy house seemed to be inhabited, as there was always light somewhere in windows.
That night, in the darkness began to be especially intense, I tried to leave behind the old building as fast as I could, but a strange vision stopped my rapid pace.
In the garden, next to an old stone fountain, two honey-colored cat eyes watching me like a dam. I got chills, because the cat's eyes seemed to grow ever larger. And then, just behind the Pussycat, I saw the silhouette of a man who was standing, his body tense but completely immobile. My heart sank when he suddenly started running towards me with open arms as if to hug ...
Maybe it was just a trick of my mind, a distorted by fear, but the fact is that since that night, I did not go near the mansion.
I changed the route, along the Red Clumn street, which made me lose more than fifteen minutes, but I fought the anxiety he felt was the Victorian house.
However, fate would soon after, I had no choice but to tread the same pavement on which settles the sinister abode.
was seven o'clock in the afternoon, and as usual in winter, night had fallen over the people.
Across the street, stumbled over a stone untimely made me fall flat on the ground. Fortunately, there was no one to rejoice in my stupidity, so spare me the embarrassment usual in these situations.
checked the ankle hurt too much, I had a sprain, and could hardly walk without feeling die trying.
events could not be worse: my mobile had run out of battery, which meant not being able to call someone to come looking for me, so I could only curse my luck and try to get home on my own .
Of course, I was not raised around the streets of Red Column, and much to my regret I went into their dark sidewalks while limping like a wounded dog.
The route of the street seemed to me endless, and the highest part of the Victorian house, which he could see from afar, seemed to expect down the road with a suggestive threat. Using
bite the bullet, go around the gate to the house of horrors trying not looking up from the ground, fearing to find a ghostly shadow in the garden.
But my ankle could no longer resist the torture he was undergoing, and give it up, I fell to the ground again, this time was less noisy.
I was sitting on the sidewalk next to the entrance of the Victorian home, unable to move the foot to escape from there ... My luck could not be worse ...
While thinking what to do, and to wait for someone to pass was not a good idea, a noise behind me made me hold your breath ...
It was a creaking old door opening ... A ...
With a heavy heart , I confronted my gaze to the house and saw the door slowly opened, letting out a glimmer of light from the interior of that house left.
could not control my breathing ...
Suddenly the door opened suddenly ended, and it came a young man, about his early thirties, wearing a black suit and pale as the moon.
- God holy! - Shouted at me on the floor - Are you okay? - And ran nimbly to the gate to open it, not without some difficulty because of oxidation.
- Me ... me ... I have damaged an ankle - still frightened whisper.
The man came to me and held out his hand with a look of concern on his face.
- Please enter the house. We serve a hot tea.
vision the other day made me panic and doubt the offer of the stranger, but the fact is he did not have much choice, and certainly could be called by telephone from his home.
- ... Do you live here? - I asked unable to hide what he was horrified.
- Of course. - He replied without elaborating.
Entering the garden, dried flowers and weeds threatening, I was too dark, as if a nightmare had come true, but the truth was that my options were no better than that.
For my money, the ghost of outstretched arms seemed to be there ...
The interior of the house was abandoned just as the garden: half broken chairs, lights flashing, damp smell ... It seemed impossible to imagine how anyone could live among those
ruin ... He behaved like a gentleman to the rescue of a damsel in distress. I prepared hot tea, I examined the injured ankle and even improvised a simple dressing, however, gave me a phone call, as I had thought ...
When I said I wanted to phone someone to come and get me, the man's brow brow and looked at me very seriously.
- Elena - whispered - You do not, you're at home.
latirme The heart was very strong. How did this stranger know my name? Why did he say that he was at home? I started to get scared.
The man took my hand very gently and looked at me with concern.
- Please, Elena, do not start this again time. Every night I wait in the garden to keep you go.
not understand anything, do not know what he was talking, but by saying that, I knew that he was the shadow of the open arms ... My body shook and tried to wriggle out of his warm hands.
had to get out of there, because this man was disturbed.
- This might not let you go - he said with determination - can spend anything if you keep walking around your own.
- Let me out, or call the police - while I threatened pulled the phone from my pocket.
- Come on, this phone is a toy, you know. Please let me help ...
Instinctively look at the mobile in my hand and an exclamation of surprise came from my lips when I saw that indeed it was holding a toy ... What was happening?
Stunned, I dropped the phone down and began to feel a terrible sickness.
- Elena, I'm James, I'm your husband and both live here. You have to remember ...
- What?! - I cried in terror - I do not live here! I live in ...
Suddenly, my mind went blank. Was unable to recall where he lived.
tried to mentally trace the path that made every day to get home, but I could not remember beyond the sidewalk of the Victorian home where I was ... Why? What I was doing this man?
- Lost memory in an accident, and since then every day you run away. You relapse, and completely forget everything. But do not worry, you'll recover soon. I take care of you ...
As ghostly shadow of the garden, James approached me with open arms and a dark smile on his face.
I felt that there was no escape and nausea over me completely.
I closed my eyes and pray to wake from that nightmare, but what if it was a dream? What if it was real? What if it was true that he had lost memory? ...

When I opened my eyes again, I was in the street. It was getting dark and the stars began to peek shyly in the night sky. I felt cold on my skin and found it made me better.
I started to walk, was not sure where, but I stopped short when I discovered that, once again, I was across the street from Red Column, and later, as a living shadow that lurked in the darkness I was the old Victorian house ...

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My sisters


feminist groups and associations are protesting the disappearance of the Ministry of Equality and the words that the mayor of Valladolid has been devoted to the minister Pajin. With reason. However, I miss their voices of protest against this chilling story which appeared in the press recently, related to the arrest of several citizens Basques suspected militants Ekin:

Barrenetxea was stripped of her clothes in the same way to Madrid, having been moved naked from the waist up and with insults, beating and fondling her breasts. A policeman came to tear the pants while forced to opened his legs and kept another hit in the head. Bilbo's neighbor claims that she was forced to stay all interrogations in panties and threatened with rape by more than one occasion. In one of the interrogation indicates that "I sat at a table and forced me to support the upper body against the cabinet, as I wrapped the back with a rope and threw cold water on the crotch. In this position did not fail to threaten to rape. "

¿Por qué no se han oído las voces indignadas de estos colectivos? Es algo que, como feminista, me duele; y no paro de darle vueltas.

¿Será porque es vasca? No puedo creerlo, cuando en España se denuncia la lapidación de "adúlteras", la ablación del clítoris o el burka en estados islámicos.

¿El manual que sigue todo terrorista para denunciar torturas? También se dice a menudo que las mujeres que denuncian una violación la habían provocado; o que hay denuncias de malos tratos para alejar a los padres de their children and take out good money. Given these statements (sometimes by judges) we rebel feminists and denounced as a ploy to create a view in society that when a woman is attacked is that "something must be done" and impunity for perpetrators. Why in this case we must believe what they tell the police on duty without even asking for an investigation? "This woman has no credibility? Do the police themselves, since he has never been a case of having abused, beaten, raped or killed a woman?

Or perhaps the reason is that there is a taboo to the Basque issue, torture and everything that has to do with the Ministry of Interior. I hope that is not because they would probably denounce it could only suspect, marginalization and loss of subsidies.

Feminist women have given an example, throughout its history, courage, boldness, critical sense and dignity. I would like this move called reflection.

A hug.

Brownish Discharge And Smelly

feminist Spanish State was once a circus


Basques we have many faults, but I think we've always been a people who have managed to maintain their dignity. What is happening to us now to be governed by these three characters into the room, frustrated learners Richelieu and Machiavelli, clumsy and cunning?

The show they are giving about the approval of budgets in Madrid and is pending transfers, at least, embarrassing.

Zapatero (yes, he rules in this part of Euskal Herria, make no mistake) reluctantly complying with the law, after thirty years, changing transfers sticker votes as if the selection is involved. Everything to stay in power. Not hesitating to betray and leave the most terrible of ridiculous his faithful treacherous governor in the provinces that has served him well so far.

Francisco López swallowing their humiliation between trips, entering ETB by the back door and I imagine that with the i-pod always in the ear not hear the jokes of colleagues, incapable of anything consegur of his boss which is supposed to have direct line to prove that what he offered graciously gives them his political enemies.

And NIP notables such transfers to make buying gas light, and Patxi reoccupy Ajuria Enea, in a time when everyone who is considered pro-independence in this country is talking about self-determination and independence. Do we want to fool with a broken toy and bad when we have to hand the possibility of achieving independence for our people? And these are themselves "nationalists"? And how is that for thirty years in government have failed so far achieved in one month being in the opposition? Do we take for morons?

And by the way, regardless of the sticker changed How good are their budgets? I fear that only for banking.

say that every people has the government it deserves. Maybe. In our defense we must remember that we have not chosen, there has been a massive rigging, which are divided between them the results rigged. But from now if we keep playing them at will with the rights of these people are going to be right.

Vital Signs Head Injuries

Red Column

The Scream, Munch

Fear is a human body's physical reaction to a dangerous situation ... So, why do we fear if it is safe?

Diana, sitting on a cold bench adorned a neglected park, wondering why she was afraid. It was not the first time that question you had in mind, it has spent years trying to figure out what the source of an absurd Panic not allowed to live at home.
In the park, enough clothes trees whose leaves traveled winding paths, Diana felt better, more secure. Perhaps because the solitude of that moment, he looked like a warm blanket to cling. Sumida
in the depths of his mind, he had not realized that a kind-looking old man sat beside her, to look to the horizon with eyes tired. And
spent nearly ten minutes, in which the silence was the only thing that prevailed in the cold metal bench.
- Looks like rain - were encouraged to tell the old man with a raspy voice.
Diana said nothing. Just looked at him and nodded slightly.
- When the weather changes often hurting his knee Do you know? And now it's killing me, so it must be about to drop a good shower -
The old man accompanied his words with a funny laugh, trying to gloss over his aching knee. Diana
drawing on his face a forced smile. Do not talk to anyone, because people also frightened her, but that gentleman was not to blame for the anguish of the young, and that did not seem rude.
It was another time in which the silence returned to seize the bank, but this time, Diana was raised with the intention of leaving.
- Wait. You dropped this! - He exclaimed when she was beginning to pull away.
Diana turned just in time to see how the man crouched awkwardly to pick up a crumpled paper from the floor.
- Thanks - replied as he walked back to retrieve the paper.
I knew what I had written, but still, it read:
What are you afraid?
Diana had written in the hope of giving a response to itself, and clear the source of their anxieties.
- What are you afraid? - Repeated the old man reading the paper over his shoulder.
Diana instinctively look at him and said,
- To life.
He was thoughtful, and that their response had taken shape in his mouth without even realizing it.
- Funny - whispered the old man - I fear death.
The girl, whom we know by Diana, but in reality, it could be any of us, was reflected in the weary eyes of the stranger, and realized that a gap of age and experience separated them.
- But I do not fear death to me, nor life you fear you. They continue their journey - the old man kept saying. - Life brings us many good things and bad ... not always so bad. Depends on how you want to see it. Do not be afraid, because the life you build it yourself ... And I, who fear death, I wonder Why fear something that does not exist? As the end of the day, while living, death shall not, and when I die, I will not be -
Grumbling to himself, the old man walked slowly, lost among the leafless winter trees. Meanwhile, Diana, stood still, with the piece of paper in his hand and with an eye on the elderly man, who was slowly disappearing, going into a distant horizon.

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Citizenship Education: Lessons from the October 12 open letter to Kirmen


The Minister of Education, Government Vascongado has attended the parade of the English armed forces on Columbus Day. Counselor, head of the education of our youth, says firmly committed to an education in values, education for peace, pluralism and inclusiveness.

That's why he attended a party celebrating the beginning of the dispossession and genocide of the American people. A party that is based on the exaltation of the army, weapons and violence against sovereign nations, including Afghanistan, or as a guarantor of the English unit sacrosanct even against the will of the subject peoples, such as Catalonia or Euskal Herria. A party headed by the heir to Franco military uniform as supreme chief of the Armed Forces. So our young people understand what is democracy, respect for people and peoples of the world, the value of words and the futility of violence to achieve political ends.

why it has come as a member of the Basque Government in which cheating is not represented the majority of the citizenry. So the youth will learn what is honesty and fair play.

has come to honor the victims of a war in which Spain is occupying force while the Government pursues the families of victims of Franco as Txiki, humiliated in their own cemetery. Young people to learn as soon as they are only victims worthy of the honor of the winning side.

mosques because they were paraded Venezuela.

Quizá la cabra aprendió la lección.

Bbw Nadine Jansen Tied Up

La Mirada

Samuel Beckett

desolate look disjointed notes on a staff I have shaped absurd meaningless, unreadable ... Highlighted eager to be touched, eager to be represented in the deafening sound of my old grand piano that adorns so many years ago my living room, plus your melody and not enough to be heard anywhere. Just dust your surface strokes crude attempt to make it visible.
I am sitting in my longed sidewalk years ago has accompanied me on many tunes, so many creations ... Then I was inspired, full of ideas and feelings that raced through countless scores that sounded like sirens in my piano inseparable. However, now that time has passed, the muse of inspiration seems to have abandoned me no kind of resentment. I can not create anything that has a modicum of consistency, harmony, heart. I am only a mediocre, tired of being so, tired of notes and scores that do not fill an empty life around.
I get frustrated after two hours walking around with hollow eyes and inscrutable staves. I turn shot at the door of my house and open it to escape a world that is not mine, that has ceased to belong to a control escaping believed to possess.
I go out and inspire the aroma of noise every day decorating the big city where, not if, fortunately or unfortunately, I grew up.
I see a sea of \u200b\u200bhuman bodies that run from side to side looking for something that never meet. In search of a dream that does not want to dream ...
I go out and repair the first thing my eyes is a vagabond who clings desperately to a small plastic bowl inside which there is only a single penny. Rest sitting on the sidewalk with a frayed blanket as sole provider for protection from uncomfortable cold that hits the streets in winter.
I approached him and watch it. Their eyes look tired of living rise and land on mine. My heart skips a beat, my pulse speed up seeing for the first time in my life, a look like that. A penetrating look at which one can distinguish the abandonment of a life full of suffering and pain, disappointment and bitterness, and yet I'm surprised to discover in those eyes transparent sincerity, a glimmer of happiness, joy, hope.
I go further, perhaps with the intention of giving a coin, and shelter in a small cardboard hanging from his neck which can be read, not without some difficulty, the word grace. Currency deposits in the dirty plastic bowl, still captivated by that look that seems to have seen it all, unable to contain my curiosity absurd ask
- Excuse me ... Why has the sign around your neck? Would not it be more comfortable leaving it in the ground?
Man whose age is unexpected, I nailed his powerful eyes and answered in a voice as strong as safe:
- You see, sir. It's in my neck because every day I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful to see a sunset colored by the sun, and one night wrapped up in the most beautiful stars. If I leave it on the floor, no one will see how much I appreciate your stepping on a land that many can not.
back to my house look absolutely entranced by the wisest and most moving I have ever seen, I could never perceive.
I sit at my piano y. .. My God, the notes start to come alone, they begin to flow in an unstoppable cascade of inspiration. The melody is perfect, the chords are sublime, the work is my great work, my piano again have life, and sound travels every corner of my house.
The title of this splendid harmony for so many years had resisted, could not be another: THANK YOU.