Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
Como muchos sabréis el periódico El País está en pleno proceso de ERE y 149 trabajadores se verán pronto engrosando los ya bien gruesos números del paro en España. Y esta vez en vez de tomar medidas de protesta que van en contra de la gente que no tiene la culpa y que sufre sus consecuencias (ejem, transporte) han decidido hacer lo siguiente (a partir del minuto 6:45)
Contar hasta 149 y compartirlo en las redes sociales, así de fácil y así de efectivo para transmitir lo que les está pasando.
Y mientras tanto la dirección del periódico que tan en contra estaba de la reforma laboral y de los cambios en la contraprestación por despido les ofrece lo mínimo que esta ley que criticaban les permite. Creo haber oído que en el ERE de Intereconomía no fue así. En fin, mi apoyo y solidaridad para ellos.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
Hace algún tiempo hablaba de lo caro que es vivir en Suiza, por tanto la pregunta lógica que surge de ese post es… ¿pero se compensa con los sueldos? ¿Merece la pena?
Adivina la respuesta, ….depende, aunque en general sí. Los salarios en suiza son altos, especialmente para profesionales altamente cualificados y técnicos. Los sectores de la banca y el de la industria farmacéutica son los que más pagan de media, y por regiones Zurich es la zona con sueldos más altos (y vida más cara) mientras que en Ticino pagan menos de media pero se vive bien con menos dinero.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
No sé si conocéis la plataforma gratuita de cursos onlineCoursera, si no deberíais echarle un vistazo. Hay cursos de todo tipo, desde programación a arte, historia, esta es la lista (hay unos 200 a día de hoy). Es un web site con cursos, vaya novedad ¿no?
En realidad lo que merece la pena de este sitio es la calidad de los cursos y quien los imparte y los soporta. Aquí tenéis la lista de universidades que proveen cursos entre las que están Princeton, Berklee, Georgia Tech, Stanford… y gratis.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
He visto en varios sitios (léase Facebook y cadenas de email) el siguiente decálogo sobre cómo se habla en Salamanca. No es que esté yo por la labor de proclamar el Charro como idioma y acto seguido pedir la independencia de España, que no está el horno para hornazos, pero siempre me ha parecido curioso el deje salmantino y ahora que no oigo tan a menudo me resulta entrañable recordarlo:
Decálogo del idioma charro
El charro no es un lenguaje hablado, sino cantado. Así, cual elfo del bosque, el salmantino habla cantando.
El charro no va para acá o para allá. El charro va ‘pallí’, ‘paquí’ o ‘pahí’.
Si no entiendes algo no preguntarás ¿qué? o ¿cómo?, como un vulgar pucelano. En su lugar preguntarás ¿lo qué?
Si quisiéramos preguntar la razón de algo no diríamos ¿porqué?, sino ¿porque?, poniendo el acento en la o.
Un charro elonga la última sílaba de sus “question tag” hasta el infinito, Ej. -Vengo mañana, -¿vieneeeees?
Existe un verbo muy útil en la jerga charra: armar. ¿Qué haces? Paquí armando. ¿Cómo te has hecho eso?, Bah!, armando.
El charro ama la complejidad verbal, no come, corre o canta, ha comido, ha corrido, ha saltado. Los pasados simples no nos van.
Un charro saluda, ¿qué pasa majo?, y se queda tan ancho.
Un charro no sueña, se sueña. “Ayer me soñé con hornazo”.
Un charro compensa en apócopes lo que despilfarra en tiempos verbales ‘Tó, pues lo que yo decía.’
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
A Gaspar Llamazarses se le ha ido la pinza. No me refiero al nuevo partido, Izquierda Abierta, que acaba de fundar con Almudena Grandes y otros destacados líderes de la izquierda no del todo contentos con el rumbo que tomaba cierta parte de Izquierda Unida, me refiero a Twitter.
Hace escasamente unos minutos ha dejado el siguiente mensaje:
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
No nos engañemos, el principal uso de Internet es perder el tiempo. Lo del sexo no es un uso, es simplemente su razón de existir. Si a nuestras ganas de perder el tiempo le sumamos la particular manera de entender la posteridad que tienen los americanos y su amor por la Familia, con mayúsculas, nos encontramos con un cóctel más explosivo que el Molotov.
Alguno se imagina eso de quedar un domingo para hacer la típica foto de familia americana y acabar con esto:
Pues los chicos de awkwardfamilyphotos.com no sólo lo imaginan sino que lo celebarn, lo publican, lo comentan y lo catalogan.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
Vamos al lío. ¿Cuánto se gana en Suiza? ¿Cuánto cuesta vivir allí? ¿Es realmente Suiza un sitio de ricos y para ricos? La respuesta a las tres preguntas es un rotundo… depende.
La vida en Suiza es cara, mucho. Más adelante en esta serie hablaremos de trabajo, vivienda, seguros y demás, pero en general el coste de la vida de una familia media es, según mis propios cálculos basados en la regla ya explicada de la objetividad subjetiva, entre un 30% y un 50% más cara que en España.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
¿Merece la pena gastar dinero en Marte con la que está cayendo en la Tierra?
Hoy ha aterrizado con éxito la MSL (Mars Science Lab), un proyecto que va a costar 2500 millones de dólares americanos repartidos en 7 años. ¿Es ético gastarse este dinero de los contribuyentes estadounidenses mientras allí también hay crisis y problemas para poner en marcha un sistema sanitario público?
La misión del MSL consiste en lanzar un rover del tamaño de un coche y una tonelada de peso, hacerle recorrer 600 millones de kilómetros para intentar acertar en una elipse de unos pocos kilómetros. Para ello se le decelera contra la atmósfera llegando a más de 1000C, se le frena con un paracaídas supersónico y finalmente se le cuelga de una especie de grúa-jetpack, todo esto de forma completamente automática por el retardo de la señal. Y la NASA lo ha conseguido.
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
Después de exactamente 3 meses de pausa y en el día de la fiesta nacional de la Confederación Helvética vuelvo al blog.
Y vuelvo como corresponsal de decabo.com en Suiza y para contaros cómo se vive por aquí en estos tiempos en los que los españoles cada vez tienen que estar más por el mundo. Intentaremos que os valga para que tengáis información relevante (o no) de la vida helvética y de paso nos echemos unas risas (sin que me echen de país a ser posible).
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - never mind how long precisely - having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen, and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off - then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.
Como mi despedida de esta temporada os traigo un clásico del cine (español, dando pistas)
Y las preguntas son:
1. ¿Cómo se llama la película a la que pertenece este fotograma?
2. ¿Qué es lo que hay debajo de los pies de esta imagen? (me refiero al lugar, no me vale decir “una barandilla”, que os conozco)
3. La peli es un dramón que conmocionó a un país entero. Un año después otro drama nacional (en una serie de TV esta vez) comparte el director y uno de los actores. El actor es el protagonista del drama con el que acaba esta serie mítica. ¿A qué drama me refiero y quién es este actor?
4. El dueño de los pies que están en la barandilla hizo otra película con el mismo director y basada en una novela de un autor sobre el que yo he escrito en este blog. ¿Quién es este escritor y cómo se llama la novela?
Tenéis hasta el próximo lunes día 23 de Abril a las 22:00 para contestar, habrá punto extra para el más rápido.
