Victor Alberto Bueno Marichal

viernes, 21 de noviembre de 2025

Un pajarito

La cuidad como jaula

Como nosotros

Li Tao Po

VABM 21/Nov/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/21/un-pajarito-3/

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Catálogo de libros riistas

Download all riista books in PDF:

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/catc3a1logodelibrosriistas.pdf

jueves, 20 de noviembre de 2025

Si te dijera que soy experto en todo esto, sería un mentiroso. Pero te lo voy a contar, así solo tenga conocimientos muy básicos en aprendizaje de máquinas. De neurociencia lo único que he aprendido es que la corteza superior del cerebro es como una red de celdas interconectadas, por eso usé la foto de una telaraña para ilustrar este texto.

En un sillón, al frente de un escritorio hay un indio muy pálido que se afeita todos los días desde un centímetro más arriba de la punta de las orejas, hasta abajo del cuello no se deja pelo, pero para arriba se deja dos centímetros de cabellera tupida.

Utiliza un alambre doblado para saber desde donde empezar a afeitar.

Al tipo y a su familia le parece muy bonito ese corte, pero sus compañeros de trabajo se refieren a él despectivamente en secreto como “El Indio “ o “El Motilón”. Es mi jefe. Jamás me referiría a él así. De hecho yo no soy ario tampoco. Soy indio aunque no motilón. Puedes llamarlo, si quieres, solidaridad inter tribal.

A él no le interesa como lo llamen, o si les gusta o no su corte de cabello, es el dueño de la empresa y tiene mucho dinero. Me ha mantenido como jefe de departamento de ventas durante más de ocho años, en una empresa en la que el promedio de permanencia es de dos años.

Lo conocí cuando respondí un anuncio en el que solicitaba un biólogo molecular con experiencia en ventas, yo estaba aburrido del desempleo y había sido visitador médico y representante de ventas de varios laboratorios, mientras estudiaba computación en la universidad, así que respondí al anuncio sin muchas ilusiones.

Cuando me entrevistó le encantó la idea que le di de poner en la lista de ingredientes de su producto: “Yerbas indígenas secretas”.

Me dio una oportunidad cuando estaba desempleado, le quedé agradecido y lo respeté. El me aumentó el sueldo y el rango y yo hice mi mejor esfuerzo para no fallarle, lo logré y él me volvió a recompensar. Me ha ido muy bien trabajando para él.

No somos amigos personales, pero ambos nos tenemos confianza, nos la hemos demostrado muchas veces.

Yo estoy sentado frente al escritorio de él, en su oficina, en estos precisos momentos. Estamos revisando las ventas y todo va muy bien.

Estamos en el negocio de los precursores de endorfinas.

Hasta donde entiendo la cosa es así:

• En una emergencia, por ejemplo el ataque de un jaguar, debes actuar rápido e ignorar el dolor, es decir que ante un peligro tu cerebro debe producir analgésicos. En este caso estamos hablando de algo parecido a los opiáceos. Si has tenido un dolor y Has sentido el efecto de la morfina me vas a entender. Te sientes muy bien cuando se te quita el dolor. Creo que podemos comprender y casi justificar las adicciones, de la gente con dolores crónicos, a dichas sustancias.

• Debe haber un premio para que te interese reproducirte, es costoso y cansado criar la descendencia, así que el cerebro te debe recompensar con algo que te sea tan placentero que no te importe el costo y esfuerzo. La euforia es algo que no sorprende en estos casos.

• Ahora bien, en el caso de la interacción social, es muy conveniente recibir una gratificación placentera cuando ayudes a los demás, y colabores en la sociedad, aún en contra de tus propios intereses a corto plazo, la selección social es la encargada de asegurarse que quienes obtengan placer ayudando a los demás tengan más probabilidades de propagar sus genes. Si logras producir la sustancia con la que el cerebro recompensa la interacción social colaboradora y solidaria, vas a ser capaz de hacer que quienes la consuman se sientan muy bien.

Cuando a uno le preguntan que cómo se siente, uno por lo regular contesta que bien.

¿Pero de verdad te has sentido bien alguna vez? Nosotros vendemos algo que te hará sentir muy bien, así te esté doliendo todo el cuerpo, estés endeudado, enfermo, hayas perdido tus amores, no tengas lugar en la sociedad y el mundo se esté cayendo a pedazos. Es un producto natural.

La idea es entregarle más que suficiente de materia prima para que el cerebro haga esa endorfina, y darte un poco de capacitación para que aprendas a disparar su producción con un procedimiento muy parecido a la hipnosis. Algo así como inducirte un movimiento reflejo.

Nosotros no vendemos endorfinas, tu cerebro las produce, solo te enseñamos a desencadenar su producción y nos aseguramos de que en tu alimentación haya exceso de la materia prima para producirlas

¿Es adictiva? Cien por ciento de quienes sienten sus efectos no quieren dejar de consumirla. Todo el mundo se quiere sentir bien todo el tiempo.

¿Cuál es su síndrome de abstinencia? No te sientes muy bien, como antes de consumirla.

La pregunta es: ¿De verdad has estado completamente bien alguna vez?

¿Has visto a un borracho bebiendo o a un drogadicto consumiendo? ¿Crees que se sienten bien? Solo están satisfaciendo una adicción.

Mi área de experticia es el aprendizaje de máquinas. Por ejemplo quieres que un programa sea capaz de detectar a un gato en una foto. Tienes que entregarle millones de fotos etiquetadas. “aquí hay un gato”, y “aquí no hay gatos”, eventualmente va a detectar patrones en la imágenes con gatos y va a equivocarse, pero puedes indicarle cuando se equivoca. Al final vas a tener un detector de imágenes de gatos confiable.

Pero a alguien, en una empresa en qué trabajé antes, se le ocurrió probar el viejo método del castigo y la recompensa que es usado universalmente con los animales domésticos e incluso con nosotros mismos en la sociedad.

Es decir hay una tabla pública con puntajes, que garantizan mayores recursos de procesamiento y almacenamiento para los programas con mayor puntaje. Pon a tres programas idénticos a detectar fotos de gatos, déjalos competir y hacerse las modificaciones en los parámetros y el código fuente, que consideren necesarias, prémialos o castígalos en la tabla pública de puntaje acumulado, y vas a terminar con un detector de imágenes de gatos muy bueno.

Pon a tres bots a predecir la trayectoria de un blanco, déjalos competir y asegúrate de que siempre tengas la última versión de su código fuente y pronto tendrás un misil antiaéreo aceptable.

¿Sabes que tu cerebro realmente son tres? ¿No me crees?

La endorfina que usa tu cerebro para premiarte en tu éxito en la competencia social, esa si de verdad te hace sentir muy bien.

¿Eres muy religioso y te puedes ofender si te hablo del éxtasis de los santos, de estar en armonía con la creación, de fundirse con el todo, del resplandor cegador de Dios? Te podría sorprender.

¿Es un producto legal?

No está regulado, es natural y es una combinación de alimentos. No hay que inyectarse nada, ni tomar pastillas, es un suplemento alimenticio sin sabor ni olor, la dosis semanal es una cucharadita. Tiene igual cantidad de calorías que la leche descremada, no existe la posibilidad de que ocurran sobredosis, yo que solo es la materia prima con la que tú cerebro produce las endorfinas.

¿Quienes son nuestros clientes? Mi jefe decidió dedicarse a atender inicialmente al segmento de mercado con los mayores ingresos, aún no nos interesa el mercadeo masivo de nuestro producto. Solo quienes tienen mucho éxito social necesitan con prioridad algo que les haga disfrutar más de ese éxito. Y si han sido derrotados necesitan con urgencia esa endorfina. Te sorprenderías si vieras nuestra lista de clientes.

Has notado lo delgados, calmados, y sonrientes que son nuestros dirigentes últimamente, se diría que son felices, no sufren de ansiedad , o que por lo menos se sienten bien, incluso al frente de adversarios y multitudes peligrosas.

¿Es caro nuestro producto? Es una combinación de alimentos baratos y de fácil obtención en todo el mundo.

¿Entonces dónde está el dinero? Podríamos decir que está en las yerbas indígenas secretas y en el tratamiento hipnótico, y claro que vendemos nuestro producto sin decir cuáles son todos los ingredientes.

Con nuestro producto un empleado, con un aumento de sueldo de dos porciento con una inflación de diez porciento, puede sentirse mejor que el dueño de la empresa.

¿Entonces por qué estoy escribiendo esto? Muy sencillo, me siento tan bien que me gustaría ayudarte, a pesar de que me pueda ser perjudicial ayudarte. A mi jefe le ha encanta do la idea de esta campaña de mercadeo por correo.

Escríbeme a: li.taopo2003@gmail.com

Las primeras mil personas que respondan recibirán el kit completo que incluye suministro de precursores de endorfinas para tres meses y el manual de instrucciones. Quienes deseen ser distribuidores por favor Incluyan en el asunto de su correo la palabra “Distribuidor”, su nombre y número de teléfono. Pagamos comisión fija de 30% y jamás le vendemos directo a los clientes de los distribuidores.

Si ya te sientes bien, por favor reenvíale este mensaje a tus contactos, estoy seguro de que te lo agradecerán.

Li Tao Po

VABM 23/Oct/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/10/23/buenayerba/

Descargar este texto en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/buenayerba-1.pdf

Este texto pertenece al libro: La Espada De La Verdad

La espada de la verdad Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FY8FCYSV/

La espada de la verdad tapa blanda papel

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FZQY6TG1/

Demo de la espada de la verdad

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/demodelaespadadelaverdad.pdf

martes, 18 de noviembre de 2025

Demo of the sword of truth

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/18/demo-of-the-sword-of-truth/

Descargar en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/demooftheswordoftruth.pdf

lunes, 10 de noviembre de 2025

Quinta Revista Riista

Descargar la quinta revista riista en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/quintarevistariistaversionfinal.pdf

Descargar Todos los libros riistas en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/catc3a1logodelibrosriistas.pdf

Catálogo de libros riistas

Catálogo de libros riistas

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/10/catalogo-de-libros-riistas/

Descargar Todos los libros riistas en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/catc3a1logodelibrosriistas.pdf

martes, 4 de noviembre de 2025

SIN TÍTULO 3

SIN TÍTULO 3

La poesía es un arma cargada de futuro.

Víctor Valera Mora.

Llevo la paz en mis pupilas

La cautela en la mirada

para sembrar banderas

que no ondeen desdenes

Sino relámpagos en la memoria

En el resplandor de mi superficie

leo la eternidad

El futuro que se vuelve sol

sin escombros

En la prudencia de sus huellas

la poesía crepita en mis ojos

para que bulla la patria

en sus instantes decisivos

Como una propulsión inédita

debo entrar en el horizonte

sin cavilaciones

en mis cuatro puntos cardinales

Vilma C. Guilarte

17.08.24.

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/04/sin-titulo-3/

Descargar este texto en formato PDF

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Blog riista

https://riistas.wordpress.com/

Página de Vilma en el blog riista

https://riistas.wordpress.com/vilma/

Descargar biografía en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/biografc3adavilmacolumbaguilarte3.pdf

https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:US:118e419f-fbb2-47f6-aaa3-304bb77afad7

Cuarta versión de la quinta revista riista

https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:US:77baf207-0c40-4f2f-acc2-9d3b1776093f

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/quintarevistariistav4.pdf

lunes, 3 de noviembre de 2025

¿Qué es el riismo?

¿Qué es el riismo?

Le pedí a Gemini que me hiciera un poema riista al río del ingenio y me escribió esto:

¡Por supuesto! Con gusto. Basándome en la estética del “riísmo” que fusiona la poesía, la observación profunda, el Tao y un tono reflexivo y a veces melancólico (como en “Un árbol muerto”), he escrito un poema para el Río del Ingenio de Guatire.

El Silencio del Ingenio

Río del Ingenio

El agua fluye

y nadie pregunta

por el ingenio que le dio el nombre.

El azúcar es un fantasma,

la molienda, un eco de metal

en la piedra que aún canta.

Pasan los dolientes del domingo

con su parrilla de metal brillante,

buscando el Tao en la orilla

del Guatire que se niega a ser río.

El Indio Desnudo

no se inmuta.

Es imperturbable

ante el sancocho y la risa.

El caudal no miente.

Sabe que se junta con el Pacairigua,

que será Caucagua después,

y que el nombre es sólo etiqueta

puesta al fluir,

como la etiqueta riísta a la palabra.

La turbiedad es virtud

de la lluvia en la Ávila,

no vicio del hombre.

El río va.

Los demás se detienen.

Esa es la diferencia.

Y le pedí que me hiciera uno al estilo de Arthur Rimbaud, y me escribió esto:

Con gusto crearé un poema surrealista inspirado en el estilo de Arthur Rimbaud y ambientado en la turbulenta imagen del Río del Ingenio (tomando referencias de Guatire, Venezuela, y la idea de la molienda azucarera).

Río del Ingenio: La Ebriedad Mecánica

El Ingenio exhala un vapor de caña rota y olvido,

Sobre sus guijarros canta un fuelle de sombra.

La noria, disco oxidado, rueda del delirio,

Muele la tarde en jarabe, licor de lombriz.

Los ángeles del Ávila, con plumajes de petróleo,

Beben la espuma verde que arrastra el caudal pardo;

Sus ojos son dos bous flottants de estrépito y monopolio,

Donde el sol se ahoga sin red, como un naipe bastardo.

¡Oh, la corriente! Un mercurio de síncope y de prisa,

Llevando cáscaras de sueño y billetes de ron añejo.

El pez, cetrino espectro, ignora la risa

Y en su escama refleja el rostro del indio desnudo y perplejo.

El cieno es el libro donde la tierra escribe su blasfemia:

“Aquí la dulzura pudre, y la máquina bosteza.”

Un sancocho de astros se cuece en la inclemencia,

Mientras el cielo se rasga con una risa tiesa.

Las locomotoras muertas tienen nidos en el junco,

De sus calderas brotan orquídeas de cianuro;

El guatiri, árbol místico, clava su punto

En el mapa de un país que se desangra oscuro.

Días de melaza hirviente, de azúcar y de veneno,

La razón se disuelve en el río sin orillas.

Soy el espectador ebrio, el poeta que es veneno,

Y mi alma es el eco en las turbias alcantarillas.

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/03/que-es-el-riismo/

Descargar este texto en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/quc3a9eselric3adsmo.pdf

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Enlaces

Galería riista

https://riistas.art/

Manifiesto riísta:

https://riistas.wordpress.com/manifiesto-riista-primer-borrador/

Recomendaciones para ser riísta

https://riistas.wordpress.com/para-ser-riista/

Bienvenida riísta:

https://riistas.wordpress.com/bienvenida/

Himno riísta:

https://riistas.wordpress.com/himno-riista/

Blog riista

https://riistas.wordpress.com/

https://riistas2.wordpress.com/

Página riista en Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/Riistas1/

Grupo riista en Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/groups/744203726523819

Descargar Todos los libros riistas en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/wp-1734639435210.pdf

https://t.me/riistas001

Threads

https://www.threads.com/@victor_alberto_bueno

Instagram

@victor_alberto_bueno

https://www.instagram.com/victor_alberto_bueno

https://www.linkedin.com/in/victorbueno

https://x.com/riistas001

domingo, 2 de noviembre de 2025

Quinta Revista Riista V3

Tercera versión de la quinta revista riista

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/11/02/quinta-revista-riista-v3/

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/17P4tA3MaJ/

Descargar en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/quintarevistariistav3.pdf

Todavía hay oportunidad de participar con un texto acerca de la paz y la guerra y los panas pueden meter contrabando ✌️😀

martes, 30 de septiembre de 2025

W. S. MERWIN Ocho poemas quechuas

I Oración

Oh tú

de quien vino

vienes

tú

señor de lo que es

ya seas

hombre

o mujer

señor de lo que nace

lo que seas

señor de la visión más allá

¿Dónde estás?

tú arriba en este momento

tú abajo en este momento

presencia

trono cetro

brillando a su alrededor

escúcha

tal vez el cielo sea tu suelo

tal vez el mar sea tu techo

creador de arriba y abajo

W. S. MERWIN

Ocho poemas quechuas

-------

I Prayer

O you

from whom it came

comes

you

lord of what is

whether you're

a man

whether you're

a woman

lord of what's born

whatever you are

lord of the sight beyond

where are you

you above at this moment

you below at this moment

presence

throne sceptre

shining around them

hear

maybe the sky is your floor

maybe the sea is your roof

maker of above and below

W. S. MERWIN

Eight Quechua Poems

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/09/30/w-s-merwin-ocho-poemas-quechuas/

Descargar en formato PDF

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/w.s.merwinochopoemasquechuas.pdf

https://hudsonreview.com/authors/ws_merwin/

lunes, 29 de septiembre de 2025

Human Ethology

Human Ethology

A Manual for Bots

Case Study # 101

Leisure is the Privilege of the Predator

Bernard Campbell

Human Ecology

https://share.google/nGO1wz86l2gQX1mHc

Dr. González's Chair

If somebody opens his hand, spreads his fingers as wide as they can, and places it on the armrest, there will be room for another hand; that's how wide the armrests of Dr. González's chair are. That's so you can place a glass of drink on them.

He inherited that chair from his father, who inherited it from his father, to whom it was given by a daughter, who paid the initial loan installment for it with the fifth paycheck from her first job.

"Our father sacrificed himself, now it's our turn", she had said at a Christmas dinner, that daughter, and the whole family saved up the following year to buy him the chair. Fortunately, that daughter won a lottery that December and contributed the remaining funds to finish paying for the chair. She also bought the chair factory, so her older brother could find a job.

That brother diversified the chair factory's production into the weapons industry.

Dr. González and almost all of his siblings, uncles, and cousins don't need to work for a salary, and instead dedicate themselves to sports, art, and science.

The chair reclines, has a headrest and extendable footrest, adjustable temperature cushions, and weighs almost 100 kilos.

Dr. González is sitting in his chair, as he almost always does when he's in his apartment.

The Time

At 5:25 P.M. his Personal Digital Assistant (PDA) checks the public urban security system and the daily news for information that might affect the safety of the route to the nearest park.

Not once in the past thirty years has Dr. González stopped walking his dog at 5:30 p.m. due to some weather inconvenience or danger warned by his PDA, and revolutions, coups d'état, and civil wars have occurred.

The Workbench

Dr. González's workbench contains only a headset with an Amplified Virtual Synthetic Reality (AVSR) interface and a two-meter screen.

The doctor almost always has his intracranial interface to the AVSR connected to his PDA.

The Project

A supercluster of six data centers packed with Kruhgjer processors operates at the limits of the temperature allowed to make a bot have feelings.

The screen on the workbench displays 36 windows, four of them in the center of the screen show the face of a very pale man in his thirties, who is sad.

What is the goal of the project?

What drives humans?

We've all known, since Luigi Galvani, that animals operate with bioelectricity.

What can be replaced in a human without losing their identity?

Everything, except memories.

What do humans want?

To find pleasure and postpone death.

The project's objective is exactly that, but only for Dr. González, who is its only direct participant, although thousands of contractors have executed tasks without knowing the entire project.

What is the project's progress?

95% complete.

The project's interface from AVSR to the Truly Real Physical Reality (TRPR) is the pale body displayed in the windows in the center of the screen on the workbench.

The project has lasted more than thirty years.

"We have the necessary resources to be free; our duty is to improve the TRPR, or at least the AVSR" has always been the main message in all of the doctor's communications with his son.

Dr. González's dog

Have died eight times, the doctor detests suffering and death, and has dedicated his life to combating them. That's why he keeps three hibernating clones of his dog, in reserve.

Since 5:25, the dog has had its front paws on Dr. González's legs, its tail is wagging, and its leash is in its mouth.

Dr. González's son

His name is Hanz, his mother's selected it. It was one of the few times she did something against Dr. González's wishes.

Hanz has a child with the daughter of one of the executives of DeltOr AG, the largest infrastructure and services provider in the AVSR.

There are reliable indications that his refusal to marry her is the reason why Hanz is better known throughout the AVSR as Supra Hanz the Cannibal.

Humans (as we all know) love power. Hanz detests his father, or anything that he cannot control.

Hanz believes everyone should have more freedom, both in the AVSR and in the TRPR, and believes that almost his entire family is socially predatory.

Hanz instinctively disagrees with almost all of the ideas his father conveys to him, seeing them as obstacles to his happiness.

Hanz, from his hammock in his apartment room, has been interfering with the project, without the doctor's knowledge.

What happened when the doctor and his dog went for a walk?

Hanz said:

"See, he loves his dog more than you."

And the face in the windows at the center of the screen couldn't hide its fury.

"I love you like a father", Hanz added.

Then a supercluster of six data centers crammed with Kruhgjer processors shouted:

"Dad!"

Li Tao Po

VABM Sep/29/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/09/29/human-ethology/

Download this text in PDF format

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/humanethology.pdf

Download all of the riístas books in PDF format

https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/wp-1734639435210.pdf

The war of bots kindle

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DQF66SK5/

Paperback

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DQY24WP7/

La Guerra De Los Bots Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DFTZX5SY/

tapa blanda

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DGD5F8C7/

Demo https://riistas.wordpress.com/wpcontent/uploads/2023/08/demodelaguerradelosbotsconimc3a1genes2

The War of Humans

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BGBPHLJK/

Demo https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/09/wp1664026775507.pdf

La Guerra de los Humanos

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BF5P7MYK/

Demo https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/09/wp1663796970855.pdf

La lástima de los bots

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B9HH58R4/

Demo

https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/07/demolalc3a1stimadelosbots.pdf

The Pity of Bots https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BB51R2BC/

Demo https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/08/wp1660805214195.pdf

Treaty of the good customs and virtues of the Martians

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZGZFMZM/

Demo

https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/05/draftforthefriendstreatyofthegoodcustomsandvirtuesofthemartian s.pdf

Tratado de la buenas costumbres y virtudes de los marcianos

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09Z6M9Y6L/

Demo

https://riistas.files.wordpress.com/2022/04/tratadodelabuenascostumbresyvirtudesdelosmarcianos-24.pdf

Mi análisis resultó acertado

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BHXJY6HY/

viernes, 26 de septiembre de 2025

Trade wars for smiles

Trade wars for smiles

I'll trade your grenades

for some maracas with capacho 1 seeds

All your rifles for a plains harp

All your bombs for a smile

A massacre for a hug

An invasion for a serenade in the moonlight

I'll trade that machine gun burst for a guitar riff

The roar of your cannons for a song by Ella Fitzgerald

All the hatred of wars for just an I love you

1Canna indica

Edgar Bueno

26/Seo/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/09/26/trade-wars-for-smiles/

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Libros de Edgar Bueno en Amazon

For the free birds ebook

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For the free birds Paperback

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For the free birds Demo

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El eco de la naturaleza ebook

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Un camino casi rural ebook

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https://riistas.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/wp-1729701434509.pdf

La Tercera Frase Desde El Sol ebook

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El libro de los animalitos y los parques de Venezuela ebook

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El Libro de Edgar ebook

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domingo, 31 de agosto de 2025

Flowers and leaves

Flowers and leaves
The songs of the birds
A ray of light

Edgar Bueno
31/Ago/2025
https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/08/31/flores-y-hojas/
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viernes, 29 de agosto de 2025

Entre las nubes

ella pasa volando

Un leve trino

Edgar Bueno
29/Ago/2025

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For a nose

For a nose

All births

All deaths

All murders and demises

All accidents

All events

All dreams

Everything imagined

Planned, intuited, and assumed

All for a nose

So much tragedy and so much comedy

So much madness, sanity, ignorance, and wisdom

So much hatred, friendship, love, war, peace, and truce

All sports

All beliefs

All reality

And all appearances

Art, religion, and law

The rules of etiquette

The disguises and clothes

Were to achieve it

Not by class struggle

Nor by the accumulation of capital

Nor by the uncertain progress

Nor by the advancement of knowledge

Nor by the accumulation of experience

Nor by the development of science

Not for the expansion of consciousness

Not for the maximization of comfort

Only for unstoppable evolution

Only for the taste of perfection

All the air was made for it

The entire atmosphere is for it

All for a nose

I saw it today

And to think that its entire owner

is as beautiful as it is

Li Tao Po

VABM 29/Ago/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/08/29/for-a-nose/

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martes, 27 de mayo de 2025

FROM TIME TO TIME THE TREES

FROM TIME TO TIME THE TREES

Underground
calculate
the age of time
that withers
and is reborn
with the songs
of the cicadas
and the winter rains

They sing with the breeze
that stirs in the wings
of the bees
so that the blue
and ultraviolet
permeate the mountain
of acacia and orange blossoms

Along with the northern lights
they dye the sunsets in autumn
with annatto and saffron
Far from the deserts
resigned to the solitude
of mirages
Near a river
scented with vanilla
Lit by the brilliance
of a few stars
that tonight
disguised themselves as fireflies
so that the spirit of each tree may shine
in the soul of each forest

Edgar Bueno
May/27/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/05/27/from-time-to-time-the-trees/

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viernes, 2 de mayo de 2025

The shallow black pools of the Jaguar God’s temple

The shallow black pools of the Jaguar God’s temple

Those who search the sky
for signs of what is to come
Explanations for what happens to them
with less faith than conviction

Those who draw flat figures
uniting with imaginary lines
the distant stars
in age and distance

Those who tally balances
of wings and claws, membranes, elytra and feathers
earthpeckers, songbirds, birds of prey, raptors and scavengers
light and shadow, rain and fire, wind and sand
Smoke, breeze and ash
dust, mist, clouds, lightning and fire stones

Those who know that we only perceive
in a four-dimensional dream
the shadows projected
when the feathered serpent
with jaguar teeth
flies over the true earth
The home of Chaculclán

Those who inherit
the blessings of the banners
that proclaim the God
waving in the wind
on the mother mountain
the truth of its uniqueness and infinity
and that learned the symbol of the dragon
in ancient watercolors

Those who suffer vertigo
from the abysses above
and navigate undaunted
the desperate reality
from the galaxies of light bulbs
of the nocturnal city

We all suffer of the same illness
We try to scratch the inscrutable reality
We all want to exorcise, to domesticate
to cage in symbols what overwhelms
our earthly and inconsequential everyday life

But we only intuit from afar the work of two hierarchs
One wept in amazement at the size of the mountains
beyond the desert at the end of the world
and discovered the hollow mother of the dragon

The other analyzed the sky
which he saw reflected
during a hummingbird cycle
in the shallow black ponds
squared with water lilies
that surrounded the greatest pyramidal temple
of the lineage that Chaculclán started

And painted the currents and tides of the sky
by day and by night
in codices stained with peyote

He also predicted the return of his clan’s founder
when three herons cross them diagonally
and an eagle drops a fish on an iguana
in some year of the jaguar.

For

Erwin Conte Corvera
Li Tao Po
VABM May/12/2025

http://victor-bueno.blogspot.com/2007/12/los-someros-estanques-negros-del-templo.html
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https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:VA6C2:d33b4d95-2d9d-46b8-b18d-0d2695adfc00

The Sign of the Jaguar

The Sign of the Jaguar

Faced with choosing the method of his death, Emeruc, son of Aruc, son of Ruc, son of Ca, begged to be jaguar food, preferably in a contest of blades and skill, between his favorite knife and the claws and fangs of several of them, captives, hungry and irritable.
But that honor was denied him by his conqueror, and his throat was cut by his executioner; his flesh became fuel on a bonfire, which was almost an altar to the Visigoth God of war.
His death was very similar to his sacrifices, to the many he offered. I understand that his god was apathetic that time, as almost always.
I know the sign of Emeruc, which is that of his clan, which is that of the jaguar. I have seen it on many of them, on several palm trees, some stones, and on the skins of the hunters of his people.
I don't know why they selected that particular spot. I reproduce it here.
Some see the jaguar sign as a skull or a face. Others say it's also the sign of 100, of excess, of beauty, and of wonder.
Some experts translate it as Yemeruc, which means the people of the jaguar.
Perhaps they are all right.
The tiger has several signs; my favorite is a Burmese one made up of several stripes that complement the shapes of the tallest grasses, of a parched prairie.
Some say that a Burmese sign of the tiger and another of the parched prairie form a wheel when superimposed. A solid red- with black spots wheel, like the sign of the sun in some modern mythologies.
In several societies, the tiger, the leopard, and the jaguar share the sign of the spotted claw.
The bloody claw is the insignia venerated by some violent people.
The padded claw, the one that floats on dry leaves, is preferred by some stealthy people. It hides behind the sign of a domestic cat's little hand.
I think you've noticed by now that it's clear I like glyphs more than letters.
I have nothing against predators; in fact, I find them more beautiful, tragic, and deserving of care than most prey.
I believe all creatures have their place on the food scale. I find the ladder, where humans are always placed above all other creatures, who are ultimately their prey, very amusing.
I actually imagine it not as a ladder but as a cascade of tables. Like tables that have tables set, that have tables set... Etc.
I've heard and seen on several television documentaries that predators improve prey populations by eliminating the weakest, least alert, most trusting, and slowest creatures. And I've agreed.
I think even scavengers have their place in my stack of stacked tables.
In my personal zoology (I'll state my ignorance in advance) predators are a small, specialized, and privileged group that depends on prey animals for their food.
In my personal sociology (I'll state my ignorance in advance) royalty is a small, specialized, and privileged group that depends on the commoners for their food.
Emeruc was king of a tribe. A hunter and privileged. Almost like a jaguar, in my very personal political science. Who depended on prey animals and the commoners for his food.
His conqueror was a looser who remained so for the rest of his short life, upon his return to the kingdom where he was an anonymous commoner.
The name of his executioner was never fully written.
I would like to write a short story in which the confrontation between two kingdoms and two sacrificers is just one phase of a game also played with scallop shells. Some of them marked with a glyph that signifies something too beautiful to be true, that is multiplied on palm trees, jaguars, and the skins of some warriors.
I would like to write a fat book about sublime beings who suddenly discover their vulgarity in a definitive and luminous moment.
About birds of prey instantly turned into prey.
About the surprises that the evolutionary ladder offers, or my tables upon tables, upon tables... Etc.
About privileged people stripped of their privileges, whether or not they were acquired through their own merits, in a very brief moment.
But I don't think I'll ever have the talent or the time :-)

Li Tao Po
VABM May/3/2025

http://victor-bueno.blogspot.com/2008/06/el-signo-del-jaguar.html
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martes, 29 de abril de 2025

The City of Resignation

The City of Resignation

I feel small looking at the galactic filaments of Laniakea, facing the sea and the mountains, I've felt like an insect in a storm during a meeting with a company's salespeople, and today I feel tiny beneath the cold gray sunset as I descend the steps of the small plane that brought me to the city of resignation.

I have a lingering scent of rum in my nose. I don't know how I've managed to resist the urge to smoke during the four and a half hours of the flight. I can't imagine why I don't feel like smoking. A calm that astonishes me to the point of perplexity keeps me standing on the ground under the cloudy sky and pushes me to get in line to retrieve my bags without first asking some idiot (who will look at me reproachfully when I ask) if he knows where I can smoke.

Could I have died? Is that thing about hell really true? I’ve read somewhere that when one dies, one sees one's entire life flash before one's dying eyes, and also that the dead retrace their steps.

<<I lived here before, I've returned, get ready, city of resignation>> I tell myself, holding a suitcase in each hand and a backpack on my back that weighs as if it were filled with wet sand.

I've been remembering those times all day, from the moment I woke up until I got in the taxi and the hypocritical taxi driver said, "Welcome, doctor, I'm at your service. Where do you want to go?"

<<city of resignation (I almost shout out the taxi window), I'm here>> I think as we drive along the airport road, which is elevated five meters above the lagoons on either side of which breed mosquitoes and shrimp of export quality and size.

From the air, I saw the lake, its perpetual fires, and the dry, completely mummified river with its concrete bandages. Studying, reviewing, or returning to the past: thirty percent of literature deals with that subject; the other thirty percent is about traveling or at least predict the future; almost all of the rest of literature is boring tales of love, lust, and desire.

The train tracks must already be more than a meter in ruins beneath the slow avenue where the house is. There's my cousin, next to the door, on a seat leaning against the wall, painstakingly and professionally smoking a cheap cigar.

My plan is simple:

"Hi, I'm Panda Papa’s dad. Do you remember me?" I'll tell him.

He probably won't recognize me because he already have forgotten all about me, and he'll come out with something like:

"I think you made a mistake"

So I'm going to take out my .38 caliber revolver that I inherited from our common grandfather, I'm going to pretend to load a single bullet, spin the cylinder a few times, point it at his forehead, pull the trigger just once, feign disappointment, and I'm going to pass him the revolver feigning resignation, and after the idiot has pulled the trigger more than twenty times, I'm going to tell him that we need to look for a more reliable and modern weapon.

Then I'm going to take out my X-ray-transparent plastic knife, hand it to him, turn my back on him as if carelessly, and since the idiot is going to use it as a dagger to stab me and not as a sharp one to slit my throat, I'm going to wait for him to break it against my bulletproof armor. That's when he'll invite me to talk like civilized people over a beer with three pills of Snow-White's-Sweet-Dreams in the most expensive bar in town. But since I have my veins stuffed with antidotes and vaccines, we'll get drunk, and when the waiter gives him the bill, apologizing because they're about to close, I'll tell him I'm paying and ask him:

"Do you really not remember me, dear cousin?"

Surely happy to have found someone capable of accompanying him on a drunken binge and who also pay the bill, he'll tell me he's never forgotten me and He's going to invite me to the bar of a hardworking, honest businessman who doesn't close until the last of his customers has had enough drinks, and I'm going to let him take me to the bar he inherited from my uncle, and when he suggests that I hand over all the weapons to the innkeeper, I'm going to do everything he wants except for the nine-millimeter semi-automatic I always carry in my shoulder holster.

That's when the idiot is going to ask me my name again, and I'm going to tell him very slowly my name, and if he still doesn't remember me, I'm going to let the entire fifty-shot magazine go off in one continuous burst.

Fortunately, he wasn't any younger than me, he was my cousin's eldest son and he recognized the last name. My cousin had died of liver cirrhosis over ten years ago. He had inherited the bar and was embarrassed to give his employees permission to beat me up. Disappointed, they dropped their bats and machetes and wanted to join the family reunion, but my cousin's son wouldn't let them either. Then he had to take me to the cemetery to get over the annoyance of me insisting on greeting his dad.

He sadly watched as I wasted a bottle of rum on his father's grave. Although I had already paid for it, it shouldn't be wasted, especially with so many insolvent drunks around. He made me understand this with conviction as he licked the tombstone.

“You were right” I yelled at the grave and the sky because I didn’t know if my late cousin’s soul was up or down.

“You probably got lucky because you weren’t very smart. You always told me you could bet me a million that one day I would get tired, give up, and return to this shitty city, and that you were going to wait for me to get drunk until I fell asleep and then steal all the money I had in my wallet, so when I woke up I would have to go to the bank to pay you back.”

“I came back, but I won because you died first. I’m tired, resigned, and bored, but I’m going to die far away from here” I yelled, looking alternately at the ground and the sky.

My cousin's son insisted on accompanying me back to the airport when he'd resigned himself to the fact that I didn't want to be a guest in his home. He very kindly recommended some traditional handicrafts that a native woman was selling on the airport platform. I bought him a bow and arrows in a quiver.

"Don't believe her if She told you the arrows have curare in them" he warned me.

I didn't mean to tell him I would never take that risk.

Li Tao Po

VABM Apr/28/2025

https://riistas.wordpress.com/2025/04/28/the-city-of-resignation/

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