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OUTBOARD



university classroom, day.
Big gathering full of defendants, lacquers and plasters academics. There are psychiatrists posing
psychiatric from all over Italy and abroad.
The guest of honor is a woman, a shaman in a place inaccessible to the Urals. The take on the platform as a rare piece, but she's decent and still in his hands clasped and eyes close. He streaked hair, a dress of cloth incomprehensible, not his shoes. Someone translate everything that is said in one language a bit 'sharp, with lots of consonants. She sometimes closes her eyes, with a sort of calm brindle.
The theme of the conference is more or less, if there is a healing equal for all. But maybe it was better to ask if there is a disease, the same for everyone.
fact, a shrewd student - many with glasses and prominent front teeth - a question to the shaman. Looks into eyes - as if it could - and says, "But you, you can heal me?". She finally opens
yellow eyes, stares for a moment along a lightning and says slowly: "No, I can heal you. Why you and I do not have the same words."


Dust off that old because I remember now - today, a rather long, in fact, given that it started a few days - I thought of edges and translations.
The board does not exist. It 's a trick of nature to highlight the differences, which are the food of thought.
We invented the contours, the con-texts, the trails of white pebbles (calculations, in fact). The eye, that liar-blind, painted borders where there are only contiguity.

Yet, we move across borders. Each language requires that borders with our translation: it's the roar of the ships (now there's thick fog on the sea), the term of Tigga, post-it left on me from that video, the blog next-door neighbor. We
machine translation: we are all amphibians for semiosphere translating stimuli, and imagining who speak languages \u200b\u200bwith stimuli, and even translate from one language to another. All
to swim close all borders.

Tell your words! I cried when you were a child and trying to learn the words of others, because they train to move through your boundaries and you had to translate them. Talking with your words you do not understand no. Now

lazy to swim the blogosphere, turning constantly, imperceptibly every wrinkle: what gets lost in translation evaporates or sinks, and will be translated by others. The semiospheres are in close contact with each other. Keep talking all day, which translates into one another. An escape of bubbles brings something up, which will be translated, or evaporate.

The point is to have the same words, to be passed along the edge.