Since the beginning of this adventure liberal, over a year now, it says, the date of publication of the first post, a question has been coming alternatively to question every time I worked in the black rock of this blog, albeit friendly, I must thank; a doubt, those that cover a certainty, those who vainly try to hide, there in that place in our minds, where we keep those truths which sidelined because we are afraid. A simple and human dilemma: why write under a pseudonym, not with my original name?
list and could certainly argue a lot of reasons, some understandable and valid, others less so. A legitimate testimony fully justifies the policy or the "splitting" otherwise I, for one, is that concerning the possibility to comment in an "irresponsible" issues are certainly taboo, but blatant hypocrisy in our society. Also, among the uplifting benefits is the opportunity to hell in a very expressive and righteous, to both mother licentious son, without the possibility of facing a charge of criminal, therefore, guarantees you a coat on you protects them from retaliation by spurious strain patriots, and frees you from the terrible consequences of falling into squalid prison, and incidentally, suffer financial misfortune by the large compensation mean that any judge would force you to pay for damages to "honor" of any infamous Badulaque ; rascal who sow in life will understand the true meaning of Honor. And how to forget the opportunity to express almost freely, but much much more than in public life. Of course it also has its disadvantages, I prefer to abstain from point, but that any intelligent person who has wandered minimally by these alternatives will know identifying and challenging.
But despite all these advantages, and affection that I have come to take for my "other self", the heretic Ariel Saul, in spite of the satisfaction I feel when listening to my cry echoes in resonant cavities this cave is often cry, "I'm Saul Ariel!". But from what I feel and am aware that Saul just a virtual character, a figment of my imagination as I, mere mortal, I am truly, or so I believe, and so will, at least for the duration of the dictatorship This trick actually.
Armed with our word, pen or keyboard we strip: deny, we laugh, we doubt, blaspheme, love, betray, we love, we lie, cry, curse, Sentenced, worship, angry and vilified us for the next day contradict with those same feelings and emotions. We fled ourselves through our fictional alter egos, giving as excuse any reason. Attack the victim only to defend the perpetrator. We allow cursing injurious to shred with jeers that narrowly missed the outrages he had to endure the unjust life he lived. Silent accomplice, despite witness the disgrace, only to protect the scourges flatter, models that aspire to reach, sinister characters and saturated vices heinous crimes. Defend abject cause of the patriots who seem to dress neatly behind the hypocritical puritanism nauseating vanity biased. Allow the innocent to be tortured and we do nothing to stop this outrage, just shut up and give back to the cruel reality. We say we are against the brutal torture of innocence and beauty, but to get along with the torturers clarify that we respect your right to torture. We share with human rags seeking to disguise their despicable nature despite publicly sordid lives they lead, because we can take commercial advantage of that meeting.
And so we live, hiding, trying to fight our fears with a fictitious name, an alternate personality, or a haggard face, smiling, insidious or vicious, which would appear to free us from what we are: single men and women, fearful, ignorant and frustrated. But our experiment only escape is in the process. For all that we are there, in our opinions, attitudes and behaviors, in our ex abrupt, prejudice, lies, in those truths which we argue but that conflict with our real condition highlighted the lies we utter in the infamous contents of those paragraphs accomplices or in our actions or inactions that secret shame us, but we hide with a face full of hypocrisy, or our cowardly violence.
and quiet, when we have been put into evidence, and we celebrate when we are right, but not have it. And, knowing the truth, let the brutality and stupidity assault and insult with insolence and cruelty, that which in vain attempts to become a saving beacon in an ocean of baseness and tricks she practices. And we waste time on irrelevant discussions foolishly boasting of intellectuals, correcting trivia, while addicted our environment with the miasma of our vileness. And we make up on us and telling others that we are changing the world, when we all know that this world can not be changed Nor, we can change our supreme will be what we are, therefore, long ago renounced the courage and honesty to recognize, as the cowardice and mendacity, is more consistent with our race and condition.
Should we hide behind a mask of divinity, or have the courage to show man?: This is the dilemma. Maybe it's time to take responsibility, the time to stand up and face our fears. Maybe it's time to free ourselves from the unthinking fear and exorcise the ghosts that haunt us from before we had use of reason. Maybe it's time that Saul is taking care of their cave, barking freely in the lazy and sordid society, which I, Paul, wandering in search of answers as the questions piled one upon another. I am sure that my good friend, pleased wander very free existence in the rugged rocks of shining ebony from which, with its liberal howls, tried on many nights love the lush but elusive moon. Maybe it's time Saul and I, we liberate ourselves mutually suitable time to resume the futile path that became insurmountable weaknesses. Maybe it's time to face and overcome those demons that drove me to create the proper Lobo. There will be cautious and set aside the righteous irresponsible, something that I am willing to accept, you can always resort to creative irony, symbols and parables, and from time to time to voluntary silence. After all, only in the infinity of thought can be truly free.
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