Author Archive


The day Vicente was born, Syd Barret overdosed for the fourth time. A bona-fide bookworm (Vicente, that is, Syd Barret barely knew how to growl into a mic), he holds a degree in Psychology, a Masters in Sociology and a Ph.D in Philosophy which have led him to exciting jobs as barman, tour guide, clerk, nanny and kindergarten teacher. His paper, "Mimetic performatives and Speech Acts", was described by French scholars as "being as boring as listening to a chess game on the radio" (Alain Badiou, bathroom talk in La Sorbonne). He has published three novels to date, contributing thus vigorously to what critics have called "the inexorable death of Venezuelan literature due to bad taste and lack of creativity". On the side, he writes a blog in Spanish which absolutely no one reads. He has presented his literary work in France and Spain (much to the distress of the European public) and has collaborated with obscure, unknown artists of every kind. His dream is to start a circus, that's why he holds regular night auditions for the "sword swallower" spot with females of all kind. He has never practiced figure skating.


Megalomaniac capitalists*

Look at me. I got money. I’ve got so much money, you have to admire me. Adore me. Want me. Feel my smell of dough. Envy me. My skin transpires gold. When I walk, you can hear, “ka-ching!”. I’m a success. I’m a winner. Loooook at meeeee…   As far as the race towards decadence […]

Titties and beer

…Literally. When people ask me about Venezuela, the country where I was born and grew up in, they tend to pick one of two subjects: politics or women. Of course, this is just bar talk: some perfunctory expression of hate/love of Latin-American leaders and love/love of Latin-American women. Yes, yes; I know: we’ve won a […]

Free market apologists and the Republican Party

Few people are more annoying than the free market apologist, the guy who interrupts your casual conversation in the middle of a party in order to reduce anything and everything you say to a cold, economic theory. For example, while remarking matter-of-factly that I’m surprised how expensive a little can of Chipotle for our “Fajita […]

Fear and loathing in Ground zero

The immigration slip asks me bluntly, in the best voulez-vous coucher avec moi style, if I intend on killing the President of the United States. The question after that demands that I “swear on my honor” that I didn’t participate in any genocide between 1939 and 1945, something easy to asses by simply glancing at […]

Religion reloaded: An open letter to the modern-day priest

Come on, anti-party people (the priests, preachers and nuns, I mean), it’s time to face the music. Nobody cares about your stories anymore. It’s not that they lack interest -nothing like some good ol’ Jesus-lynching before bedtime to put you to sleep-, it’s that they’ve lost their punch. Your sermons are passé, as they say. […]

Earth to Woody Allen: You’re rich, bitch!

…And there’s nothing wrong with that, you goddamn hippie. So stop being so preachy. Stop shoving “valuable lessons” down our throats. I paid my 10 dollars, now make me laugh for an hour and a half and we’ll call it a day.       I’m talking about your Europeeeean period, pronounced with a snotty […]

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