Programs With Pantygirdle Scence

(173) August 27, 2007

never have come into the picture because the history of man is like a collage of privileged characters, distinguished. They could never have entered the official story, that which has the dubious exploits of individual heroes. Continue to be shadows in the depths of the earth, in the depths of a cave.
From there came the message of life that rocked the world these days: "We are well on the refuge's 33." The seven words were written in red ink on an old paper. They erupted in Chile and much of the world a thrilling celebration. Those words came to scream to the world that they were alive, that the thirty-three miners trapped in the San José mine, from the afternoon of August 5 that had survived the collapse. A win over the lack of air, little water, no food, darkness, fear and silence. More than two weeks alone in the depths of the mountain, and at the right time when hopes were falling and the job of the police and rescue forces announced chains seemed corralled "They are alive!". A dirty sheet of notebook passed from hand to hand, then was tied neatly by one of the miners to the probe made contact with the shelter as we know now sheltered. We are alive they said, more than 700 meters deep, with only seven words. Vagaries of history also say that there were seven words Jesus said from the cross.
(Although the euphoria of the first few hours you are following a tensísima waiting period and who calculated that rescue operations can take more than four months. A real ordeal.)
"We did not want our colleagues will spend the same as the miners in Mexico," said a worker working in the rescue, referring to the tragedy of a mine in Mexico, where 65 workers died in February 2006, joining the long list of buried in the mountains.
(These losses of life are not for nothing casual or accidental. The all so commercialized, even lives. Nothing has value, everything has a price. What is a man, a worker? The thing comes from a distance: You said it

popular song kills me Though my love to the mine
I

I do not want to die in a hole.
Don Pedro is your master,
he bought you.
We buy things,
men do not.)


A data provided by the mining engineer Omar Gallardo said that the shelters in the mines are made of fire so they have no food rations for more than two days and there is water and oxygen only for a few days. The engineer estimated that the miners were in total darkness, but they have managed their resources to survive the 20 days leading up trapped. Moving from where you look. With fewer resources the essentials to live, survive. Where was the secret of this "miracle"? How could they? Some experts say that this occurred because the mine collapse caused by air pockets that allowed the workers' breathing. We do not know. But nobody can deny that these miners saved word, theirs. That word that connects and says I am, I exist, I'm sorry, I discover. Plural word and solidarity that embraces and creates the meeting. In these times of isolation and individualism, comes from the heart of the earth that the miners poignant message: man is saved if you share, if you can open your life to another, if it feels it is necessary overcome every form of selfishness, if you discover the deeper meaning of the words and what they were made. The word so debased, so groped, bastardized and service to conceal thought and hide the worst of intentions. The word lying, hiding, he condemns. Weaves these ideas
While I can not stop thinking about the role that went hand in hand wrinkled written by the miners. I think about words that could save us, us, I say. Could save many lives, I think, I can think of, if run on time ...
Galeano says that "about 300 thousand years ago, the woman and the man said the first words and believed they could understand.
And there we are, yet we want to be two scared to death, dying of cold, looking for words ... "