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Eight in the morning, the day is cloudy, cold, rain, drizzle, slight, imperceptible, but gets very wet, plus the cold as if they penetrate the skin and bones run cold, so light drizzle and fog water are mixed, I shuddered cold, the leather jacket did not help much, as if that buttoned my body does not feel cold more than anything else was a reflex. The street is desolate, far away apperceive barely two cars moving in the opposite lane. I opened the gate that faces the street and crossing through space that leads to the door that leads directly to the offices, to finish up the stairs is the office door, which I share with a partner, opened and cold blast, wet gave me full in the face, I would question How cold if it was not carpeted? I turned on the computer to check my emails.

As this loaded all the files, I went to the bathroom, in the right hand carried a toothbrush with toothpaste, I pushed the door, I went to the bathroom and opened the key, I let the water run for a few seconds and proceeded to brush my mouth, once completed, I took the tolla was in front of me to dry my hands and it was then, to turn around, I discovered that the mirror was not in Instead, no hanging on the wall, only looked at the head of the nail from which this depended, was notorious, had a space, something was missing, but who it off?, for what reason or because it removed?, "on Saturday was still in place?," will be broken and thrown away?, I looked on the floor hoping to find some pieces of broken glass, but was So much for my search, I lifted the lid of the trash, hoping to find something there, there was nothing that looked like a broken mirror, that unusual, it was the first to disappear.

On Saturday I went almost seven in the evening and the mirror was in place, I remember well as before leaving, I went to my hair, I remember perfectly well today and I am the first to arrive, will someone come to work yesterday and accidentally broke it and asked the secretary, and clear also asked my office mate maybe they can tell me some things.

Secretary arrived on time for your check-in:

-Clarita, a question

"Tell me lic.

-Note that is not in the bathroom wall mirror, what perhaps broke?

- Lic No I do not think I saw him still on Friday

- it can not find it.

Clarita "It's funny with this are three mirrors that disappear.

-Lic. Surely it is ghost who takes them.

- hehehehe, if true

was true, all the lawyers knew that the building was circulating a shadow, several of them claimed that when they were alone heard her reach , his footsteps ascending the stairs and stopped in the waiting room, I never heard him open any office, but it was unclear where it was the lawyers looked like something very familiar, the sister of my friend even told me that when she was alone in the office, listening as he touched the door, or you were turning the knob, as if someone wanted come, even got up and went to ask if anyone had touched Clarita door, and always received a negative.

one day reach the street at about one and fifteen minutes, my partner's sister Rosa was ordering books:

- Hello how are you

- Well you Mr. and account

- Vengo heated

- What are you doing?

-Lic Ordering books, but, ghost will not let me

- What ghost?

-Lic. before you arrived, where I am, turn the look out of the office and I could see black pants.

- And that is a woman or man

-Lic. for me a man by the pants and shoes.

If I had gone un espejo, no causaría extrañeza ¿Pero tres, en un lapso de un mes y medio?.  Alguien se había llevado tres espejos y ninguno de los abogados afirmaba haberlo tomado o que se hubiera roto.

Porque robarse un espejo, cuando se pudieron robar una computadora, los expedientes de los clientes, en fin cualquier otra cosa de valor, ¡pero unos espejos ¡ ¡no eran de oro¡.

Curiosamente, en el mismo lapso en que desaparecieron los espejos, en la calle en la que se encuentra ubicado el despacho se había sucedido el  asesinato de un homosexual.

The day she disappeared on the third mirror, the red note daily, read: "Gay was found dead on Avenida Lazaro Cardenas' name is unknown, person of about twenty years old, the facts were on the corner of Justin Sarmiento avenues and Lazaro Cardenas, the victim has signs of struggle, was slain, and believed to have been killed by a sharp, pointed weapon.

The photograph of the victim, remember that I was known in most lawyers was more than coincidence that homosexual was a woman, her dress, her makeup, her clothes, including his body and his features were very feminine, all that was his voice betrayed him.

They found slain in a street in the office I began busily searching the Internet on the pages of gay homicide detective, surprise the three murders had happened a few blocks from office in these had used a sharp, pointed weapon.

That finding me dio, temor, ¿Que pasaba? ¿Eran coincidencias? ¿O existía la posibilidad que los espejos que habían desaparecido fueran el arma con las que se le habían quitado la vida a estas personas. O tal vez, sólo tal vez,  el asesino no soporto ver su cara en los espejos; luego entonces, ¡ él  conocía el despacho¡.

Jlara.

Septiembre 26 de 2009

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are thinking is what I have seen how I look, and makes fun of me, I know you think I'm crazy (fools do not know that I know are crazy.)

Admittedly, I like to go out in the sun and raising his arms heavenward, thanking the creator, and stay a few minutes (until they no longer feel my arms), see as the sun shines on my face, like air caresses my bare chest, other times I put my blanket, the black with white hat I put on my black jeans and I do the same, and because of that I'm crazy. Quesque shooting at night because all the water of the pond, but if I do it to wash very dirty courtyard, say they also speak only as if thinking aloud was a symptom of madness.

I can look at them and noticed how they laugh at me as a whisper, deluded believe (that I am not quite sure, as are crazy), I can fool , they are all deschavetados. Now that I look at things in my family have always been different people think we're crazy, but my wife and my children who are crazy. At night when I pretend to sleep, rather than hear them say I'm crazy, you should stay in the hospital, though it is me who it is they who are wrong, and if I do what I do, is ask God to raise them, but I have to understand, the bad is that nobody wants to help me, sometimes I stand outside and call people to help me with them, but I ignored them fear that they may do something . Yes they are crazy, my two daughters all day locked in their rooms with their daughters and never leave, no I see them only at night when they think I am asleep and come together to talk about me I can see them, sometimes play to their I open doors, so the other day I took an ax and gave her to the door but iron as I could not open until I stopped.

Just last night I heard plotting, say, the night last night, I spend destroying the bed, crazy, bed was full of scorpions, and spiders, I had to smash the tablets of the bed to kill them, were an amount, ran everywhere, even through the walls of the house, 'fools, and I accuse me protect.

The holes I made in the floor of the house, I can explain, is not this crazy, no, I swear, what happens is that an angel told me that there somewhere in the house is a hidden treasure, twenty barrels of gold coins, so I dig it that I find, but they do not understand as they are but I removed the irons with which remove soil.

agreed yesterday, called police and locked me why I'm here, say the very evil that stoned the house of my neighbor, if the stone him, but they did not look a snake trying to enter her home, as they are crazy, things do not understand is why they brought the cops handcuffed me, I kicked, mocked I screamed my fool, you know you're mad, you're going to take to the hospital to inject you and you remove the dazed, cold water baths are you going to write. They locked me in this room, the windows have a very large bars, here is very cold will not let me out. They're coming, no, where I have, I do not want to go, I'm not crazy, I swear.

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THE CRAZY MOMENTS GRANDMOTHER

The evening is cold, cloudy,

the wind blows,

people rushing over,

faced, looking a taxi.

Rain falls, lunges

over rooftops,

slips

quickly and hurried away down the street.

People were surprised eagerly looking

a place where

shelter.

cars

coalesce

slows his pace,

cars and people

resemble the ants in the same way.

The water is still running,

urges him away from where they fell

Why fleeing in a way so giddy?

The sooner you away, just as return,

but probably will never be the same.

smells like coffee Within

the aroma is mixed with

smell of wet bodies.

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Its silhouette reflected on the grass and coffee, made her look skinny, long, as if the ghost really was her, candle in his left hand, threatened to shut down, and sometimes languished flame grew, as the plaintive cries of the police car to and my children, cries that were lost in the vastness of the forest and the hills, screaming that the dogs, made them curl the hair of the back, releasing a great howl, if not fear pain or distress, auuuuuuu, she just stood still , still, listening to the shouts of the police car to chase her.

The night was cold that cold that pierces to the bone, getting down in among the clothes, which slides into the tissues of any coat, any clothing and feel like hugging you with frozen hands and arms, the moon in the sky, the starry sky, all combine to make this a night of terror, even the crickets had stopped fearing singing, the frogs had preferred to keep their songs, the silence was absolute.

Agustina was not any woman, had created the most rigid discipline of housework and field, had grown up among the mountains, on the slope of that hill, including coffee, jinicuil, orange, running free, like wind, climbing orange trees, this had been his school, helping with housework, had not had time to play with dolls, girls go to school, to go with youth to dances, that life had never known, his life was work, by friends, dogs, pigs, squirrels, armadillos. Its rustic stone house in the middle of the slope of that hill that gave everything to live, food, water, corn, animals, fruits, that more could I ask, life was simple. Your date of birth was uncertain, his birth certificate was lost in the absence of vital record, kept a piece of foil lined, torn from any notebook in which his brother had written the date of birth, in 1900 six, his life started with the century.

already

young when his father cut oranges, or any other product, had to accompany to sell, no buses, up walking the trails of the mountain, the stone staircase, holding fast to where you could, with a canvas lie down, moving slowly, reaching the top of the hill and to reach Banderilla sell your products, rest and relaxation, I could not help admiring the beauty of these areas, the air stuck on his face, filling your lungs with the clean air, many times the view was not entirely pleasant, if not a tree hung a swinging body with air, which lay hanged him, sometimes the bodies lay on the path of the gunman dead product of that era, which had among other objectives to get the land or the wife of the dead, and the height of that hill you could see to see the front pair to Naolinco.

That had been his childhood and adolescence, it had grown that way, tall, thin, strong physical and character, travel light, quick, quick, agile as any animal the inhabitants that hill.

had witnessed the bloody battles between Carrancistas Villistas and how at some point in their lives, these mountains have lost their peace, tranquility, the songs of finches, sparrows, primrose, had been replaced and dry sounds, explosions, guns, had witnessed as first one and then others had come to his house to beg for food, driving to all animals in the house, chickens, pigs, and no one could say a word some, forcing her and her family eat tortillas made with banana club made tender, had witnessed how the generals, in the afternoon sent invitations to single women living in these houses scattered through the mountains to the dance they organized for fun and light candles and wind music, where the guitar and violin were the hosts is the party, those poor parents who refuse to take their daughters to the dance, the punishment did not expect to whip lashes on the bare back, others were hanged, they were some of the punishments, even to the execution of arbitrary, like everything happening in this regard was arbitrary.

As an adult, I had to get up very early, when everyone was asleep to bring the nixtamal to the mill, to be ground and to make tortillas, I had to prepare themselves and once the Bastimento was ready to go to reach the men of the house, his brothers and his father to the field, took his machete and hoe, coming to work like them pace, until the day falling out, one after the other day, they were forging the iron will that strong character, that body not only of sun tanning, but also the land of breath, as the roots of trees and of the mountains where she lived, her brown arms were long skinny, which could be seen in his veins, the blood flow to that life force that had acquired many years of work, blood that resembled rivers and streams bathed the slopes of the hill, making a fertile black soil, brown arms, strong, reveals its enormous vitality.

stop there in the vastness of the night and the mountains would not have been possible if not for the life developed, such as believing that a woman, and forties, a widow, was at night, accompanied by their dogs and illuminated as provided by the dim light of a candle, the shadow cast made it more lean, but still retains the physical strength and spirit, there was, not some armadillo hunting, or other animal, no, it was Moaning hunting. She was accustomed to dealing with death, he always said, so sad and so proud, he had buried his parents, brothers, even her husband, " If things go well, I'll also bury Chavela", she was her younger sister and only survivor of that family. Another of her memories, so close to death, was when she went down to fetch water from a spring that was like a mile away from home and in the evening, almost dark, when upon his head a can filled with water, perceived as almost the last two hundred meters to his house a matching shade with her foot, used to say "Once you cross the old farm yard, the shadow began to walk with me, a few yards, could hear their steps in the dry leaves. I had to hurry, for not allowing the shadow that I won to reach the top where he was home. Can filled with water on my head had to hasten my walk. " It was a struggle between life and death, for that life had prepared him to withstand the weight upon his head, for that was his strong legs " if you had let me win to reach the top surely it would have taken "said very smug.

Another of his proximity to death, had taken place, when Caritina sister, was pregnant with her, her sister and her children were picking coffee on a farm near his home in that place there were some large stones, his sister, tired sat down to rest in a cave too near large bushes of coffee, that was, when you hear a groan, then another and another, which made Caritina get up hastily, seized by fear, Grandma came to feel for the place-no bother, nobody will take anything, "another whine-only was rested. Those were his encounters with death, very friendly, she would say, beware of the living. Years later, farm owners, aware of this incident was asked to dig in that place and removed the treasure they would help him and give him a portion of the proceeds, he never accepted, his life was simple did not need the money their aspirations were very simple.

Her husband had been killed very common, as it was in those times, treason and shot dead while working your day, his murderer was someone he knew, because in the crime scene were placed in their footsteps so that victim and perpetrator were in front, two piles of shell Peanut, one side of each pair of traces of sandals, but the murderer was frightened face, wait until you turned around and reached down to continue clearing brush from the earth with his hoe to kill the back, making several shots on her body, her husband still had time to turn around and lay hold of his machete, over longer had the strength to defend themselves, there was leaning against a stone. Surely the murderer left him and pretending to go away. She never remarried, leaving a widow with two children.

I was tired of hearing all night at the police car with its plaintive song, his children were still young and got scared, could not sleep at night and the day I was afraid to go to school, because to reach this had to cross many farms planted with shrubs coffee, and although there were three children who were accompanied to school, they had the same strength So she had been created. His only daughter, one day back in terror, because that, that day on the way to school he realized, a tree full of worms jonote red, black and yellow, which covered a large portion of the tree, snake resembling a giant multicolored and that night armed with his lantern and his dogs were given the task of waiting for the police car there in the middle of those mountains.

wore between his clothes kept a bottle with holy water, plus several crosses made of palm blessed, so I was quiet, like cat stalking its prey, the moonlight reflected the silhouette of the police car and every cry of her grandmother, was and driving a Cross, previously sprinkled with holy water. He had begun this ritual, in the courtyard of the house and around it, continued to pile where they washed clothes, and the first cry of my child to and the followed, was wearing the was watching, his dogs came back full of fear and dread, others were still lying with his head between his hands, came up the stairs was the last stone cross set into the ground, if even be heard the cries of weeping but now they were more distant, fainter, their cries of woe my children could be heard rolling down the slopes, a stone downhill, had thrown the mountains but not if from near his home.

Occasionally who live around here we have listened to their cries, some dare to say they had had meetings with her, leaving terrified, but none had the courage to face it, middle of the night as did the grandmother.

.

Jlara. December 2008.

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Democracy in Mexico

The title sounds too ambitious, not spiro such, in any case this text should be a real study of that topic in our country. The theme is bring up the recent local elections in the state of Veracruz, which was elected governor, Congress and municipalities

In this connection I call attention to the title the book by Norberto Bobbio "The future of democracy [1] " which he defines as a set of rules and procedures to be promoted who is authorized to make collective decisions.

The word democracy derives etymologically from the ancient Greece and its original meaning was "People power" (demo = people, kratos = power), to be precise was coined in the city of Athens where you applied a form of government in which citizens had a major role the authorities directly represent the people with most of them chosen by lot and the rest who were the most important vote is designated by popular acclaim in this way all the people actively involved in key decisions regarding the functioning of the city .

Seeing these two definitions Length paint the meaning of democracy, I refer to the meaning assigned to Bobbio. The title of his book "The Future of Democracy", me a question arises, is there a future of democracy in Mexico? federal elections held in 2006, to elect the President of the Republic were the most contested in the history of Mexico, not to mention the context in which they are developed and the subsequent inauguration of winning candidate who had to enter through the back door of the legislative chamber and peaceful social resistance waged by Andrés Manuel López Obrador.

The recent elections in the State of Veracruz, on July 4 this year, were accompanied by a series of previous remarks , mentioning that the IEV body to carry out a local election was biased in favor of the PRI candidate, there were some actions which it seemed that it was possible to agree with those questioned this, the claim that was exceeded campaign stops, the audio scandal, vote buying, both red and blue team, induced surveys, operations designed to manipulate the will of the electorate, the night before the election and during the same election day was possible to realize the carrying of voters, supposedly invited to a breakfast, others say they came to offer 1500 dollars for his vote, the use and abuse of both federal and state registers of beneficiaries of various programs (welfare) social. As Miguel Angel Yunes, and Duarte say they are winners.

In these terms, the concept of democracy by Bobbio, as the classical concept used in ancient Greece have been exceeded and in this sense is one that applies the question asked " democracy has a future? ". Before attempting to answer, I refer to those reported by Lorenzo Córdoba he does this form of government , Kelsen mentions that addresses the concept of democracy from axiological point of view the concept value of political freedom as the ability to self-determination, which this author is an intrinsic value to humans [2] .

and as someone probably organize the elections and there is (at least) a set of rules to carry out democracy exist, but from my point of view in terms pointed out by Kelsen, we must observe to what extent this concept of freedom of choice has been restricted. Democracy has been prostituted, it is possible to observe a series of actions which seeks preference for a particular candidate, get the vote of a city, ranging from subliminal messages by radio or television until the dirty war either these media or forms, surveys made by way of those who request them, buying votes with cash or in kind, where intimidation and harassment to eliminate the federal or state standards for recipients of social assistance programs, spoofing results theft of ballot boxes, domed agreements between the leaders of political parties, the interference of governments in managing the campaign of a particular candidate (s), system crash be held responsible for storing the results in a Election Day, I am not finding the black thread that exists is possible to appreciate, that happens to us as a society we allow this to happen, it is paradoxical that those who should represent the different levels of government in order to win our sympathy, has to resort to such actions, which is that once they achieve their goal they forget they were elevated to the status of representatives of the people and not act in benefit of this and it happens otherwise represent themselves or representing the group which brought him to power, but if all we know this, because we allow it, we need to stop exercising democracy clearly flawed.


If we continue on this path will have to ask whether Will democracy have a future?, live in a form of government in a sham democracy, the reality today is different from the concepts outlined above. On July 2nd year 2000 even with the aforementioned evils Mexican society succeeded in changing a political system that had been perpetuated in power for a long time in that memorable date to today, we made choices with all these vices, we can see that despite political transition in our country this is far from democratic elections that guarantees freedom of suffrage with the natural consequence that the rulers in turn often lack a large percentage of legitimacy.

---

[1] BOBBIO. Norberto. The Future of Democracy. 2nd ed. Edit. FCE. Mexico City 1996.

[2] VIANELLO CORDOBA, Lorenzo. Law and Power. 1 st ed. Edit. FCE-UNAM.Mèxico.2005.P