Category Archives: Madrid

Louis Armstrong is not the subject

But his music is providing the initial musical backdrop to this post, being written 832 days after my last post. General Lacy is still providing the geographical backdrop, though I now own a GPS device. Sella is closed on Saturdays, so had to buy my pastries and bread in Obrador de Goya. Goya worked as a waiter at the oldest still open restaurant in the world, Botín. I wonder if his visits to the kitchen were inspirational for his dark paintings. I’ve never eaten there, so my

210px-Francisco_de_Goya,_Saturno_devorando_a_su_hijo_(1819-1823)_cropobservation has nothing to do with the quality of the restaurant’s food, and everything to do with the quality of my writing.

The emotional backdrop is one of stasis and αναμονή, “expectation” according to a pop translational engine, though I am not happy with that interpretation. I am on holiday, so you could say that the state of my life’s automaton’s backdrop of writing this post is vacational or holidational, depending on whether you are US-English or British-English configured. Other things that have changed in these last 832 days are: I am reading Infinite Jest (have been reading it for the last 379 days, currently on page 311), we’ve moved to the apartment where: [Road, Number, Esc, Floor, Piso] += [0, 0, 0, 0, 3], my salmorejo phase has been replaced by a gazpacho phase, and Friday nights now mean Equipo de Investigación rather than Callejeros.

The political and geopolitical situation in Greece are irrelevant for this blog post. The geolocational situation is a different story all together. For that I would need to download Greece maps to my GPS device, and also a USB cable that supports the device. I don’t know if the maps are subject to EU sanctions.

Time sits in perpetually relative abstract solitude.


General Lacy goes to the bakery

General Lacy walked up General Lacy, turned right onto Ancora, and went into Sella the bakery. There he asked for a barra of cerealia, a baguette Bretón and eyed up some coconut muffins. “¿las magdalenas de coco son buenas?”, “sí, son buenas”. So he purchased them as well.

Hello World

You gotta run, run, run, run, run

I’m too busy to write anything and since all I would do is post links to articles and videos, just add me to your google reader “people you follow”.

When I have some time I’ll write:

– Bubba takes the high-speed train to Málaga
– Racism in Spain: Who’s the racist?
– Bubba organises the PIPA2010 conference (1st Symposium on Parallel Implementation of Polymorphic Algorithms)

…and other delights…

Goya Burger


Goya Burger, sponsored by Carrefour

Dia de los Reyes in Spain tomorrow. The Kings came from the East today and arrived in Madrid and all over Spain bringing gifts to the children that have been good all year and coal (!) to the nasty ones… It’s a big carnival-like parade in Madrid. Apparently a lot of children cry in awe when they see the kings (the wise men). I hate to tell them: It’s all a damn lie!

Meanwhile, Israel continues bombing the fuck out of the Palestinians.  It’s no lie. It was planned a long time ago.

Going to Lisbon on Wednesday for a few days, then London on Monday for a week. Bubba has a son. His name is Herbie Tribunales Ramirez. Sorry I hadn’t told you earlier, I just recently found out myself.

When Bubba met Juana – Scene 1: Boots of Spanish Leather

Bob Dylan himself was scratching his guitar and croaking away in the corner of this brightly lit bar as she threw the lit butt on the floor and didn’t even step on it with her long boots of Spanish leather. Bubba observed this scene and wondered how often there were fires on the floors of the bars in Spain. What with all that paper, cigarettes and grease… surely it’s a common occurrence? Yet, from what he had heard by the locals, the quality of a bar is dependent on the amount of rubbish on it’s floors. The more rubbish, the more popular the bar, hence the better the place to be. How fitting then, he thought, if there are little fires on floors, in small bars, being put out and set alight again by proud people who like to eat every bit of a pig you can imagine, while discussing life, death and death and … death.


…to be continued…


(tune in next time to be enlightened more about Spain, witness Bubba introduce himself to Juana and her long boots and join us in musing at Tom Waits´s and Camaron’s brief multimedia cameo appearances.)