Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Spanish Beauty
A Spanish highway sounds just like any other. Perhaps another motorocyle or two. But, it's the truckers in this country who know how to eat. If you see a man with dust on his boots, follow him to lunch. I did. Their they put snails in my soup, again. They call it arroz brut, and that it is. For the second time I endured it, and then I realized, remembered, reminisced: this is how tastes are acquired. Yes, I think I like Spain.
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From Professor Simmons:
ReplyDeleteFrom The Revolt of the Masses, By Ortega y Gasset
TAke stock of those around you and you will. . .hear them talk in precie terms about themselves and their surroundings, which would seem to point them as having ideas o the matter. But start to analyse those ideas and you will findthat they hardly reflect in any way the reality to which they appear to refer, and if you go deeper you will discover that there is not eve an attempt to adjust ideas to this reality. Quite the contrary: throuh these notions the individual is trying to cut off any resonable vison of reality, of his own very life. For life is at the start a chaos in which one is lost. The individual suspects this, but he is frightend at finding himself face to face with this terrible reality, and tries to cover it over with a curtain of fantasy, where everything is clear. It does not worry him that his "ideas" are not true, he uses them as trenches for the defense of his existence, as scarecrows to frighten away reality.