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sábado, febrero 04, 2006

Bye, bye birdie


(Yes, almost a week late, but we haven't forgotten, have we? How long are news new, anyway?)

So what is in a name? All the newspapers, of course, took advantage of the pun. The bull Pajarito tried to fly away and escape its inevitable destiny. Unfortunately, beyond the world he was destined for --el ruedo-- was surrounded and guarded by scores and scores of... I don't mean to insult anyone, but, scores of ENEMIES. Gathered there for the "art" of watching him die. (Of course, his death was meant to be graceful, beautiful, passionate, aesthetic...) He refused, and went where no bull has gone before. A hero, a flying Zeus-bull similar to the one who carried Europa on her back. But how far can a bull really fly? Ultimately, his name didn't give him wings large enough to bear away the 500 kilos that were him to some sort of taurine paradise where bulls smell flowers in the fields (that, I believe, is only reserved for two-dimensional, enormous bulls that can be seen when driving on the highway, with Magno printed on them, or in a Disney cartoon).

I wonder if other bulls admire him. I wonder if his death was better, as it was faster. I wonder if he thought he had a chance. I wonder if he and the Thames whale are somehow in touch with each other, maybe soulmates. I wonder why people concentrate so much on themselves that what matters is that his attempt to run away hurt them...

I wonder if his death can be considered heroic.

Well, not really. I don't wonder about his heroism at all, because, as the Norsemen knew, heroism is completely unrelated to success:

" ... heroism depends on lost causes. The hero can prove what he is only by dying. The power of good is shown not by triumphantly conquering evil, but by continuing to resist evil while facing certain defeat.... Although the Norse hero was doomed if he did not yield, he could choose between yielding or dying. The decision was in his own hands. Even more than that. A heroic death, like a martyr's death, is not a defeat, but a triumph. The hero in one of the Norse stories who laught aloud while his foes cut his heart out of his living flesh shows himself superior to his conquerors. He says to them, in effect, You can do nothing to me because I do not care what you do. They kill him, but he dies undefeated..." (Edith Hamilton, Mythology)

I wonder if he laughed.

Comments:
So beautiful it made me cry, B.
 
No, su muerte no fue heroica, fue patetica y muy triste.
Siempre la muerte de un toro es triste, no importa cuántos argumetnos existan para reivindicar un asesinato público, simpre es lamentable que de la muerte de un toro se piense que el torero es valiente, y no patético, aunque lo sea.
Si miras otra vez la foto, hay algo interesante: la dignidad existe en el animal y no en los cobardes que lo circundan. Todos, sin excepción, huyen, el toro no, está allí como estaría en el ruedo: sin saber qué carambas hace allí, sin saber por qué tiene que morir en esa tarde y a esa hora.
 

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