INDIO GRIS No. 31 Individual Magazine of garbage collection

INDIVIDUAL MAGAZINE OF GARBAGE COLLECTION
Nº 31. YEAR 2000- DECEMBER, THURSDAY 28
FUSIONED - DIRECTED - WRITTEN AND CORRESPONDED BY: MENASSA 2000

WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPEAK BUT WE DO IT IN SEVERAL LANGUAGES
SPANISH, FRENCH, ENGLISH, GERMAN, ARABIAN, PORTUGUESE, ITALIAN, CATALAN

INDIO GRIS, IS A PRODUCT
OF A FUSION
THE BRIGTHENESS OF THE GREY
AND
THE JARAMA INDIAN
THE FUSION WITH MORE FUTURE OF THE
XXI CENTURY

And in reality, I'm writing to you this morning not only to tell you about my splendid success not only of my paper, but also of Cero Group's work this week, but to tell you that the book sold the most in the bookstore of the congress, was “I, a sinner” and even more, they proposed to me to produce the music for the poem Poetic Art.

Poetry is causing devastation, my first intervention after presenting my paper "Family as a Sexual Structure” was: How could I have dared to read such a text in a scientific congress?. After three or four interventions in the same tenor, a social assistant from Huelva got up trembling to say in her tiny voice that what had happened after the reading of the most wonderful text she had ever listened to in her life, showed the level of sexual repression of the participants to the congress. The intervention of a gynaecologist (one of the organisers of the congress) to say that he was impressed by the great poet that my scientific work showed, sealed the hypnotic state of the 240 participants to the events that they had started to experiment with the reading of my work, which I'll send to you in a short time.

The debate had to be halted ( to allow the other lecturer of the behavioural school of Barcelona to speak), and then unanimously, the participants decided not to hold the night plenary session and to replace it by a joint presentation of the members of Cero Group ( present in the auditorium) - Larriera, Kozak, Gonzalez and Menassa.

Next day, declarations such as, family is an ideological model of the state, appeared in four local newspapers, and whereas it transmits not a human idea about life, but a juridical model, empty of human content and many other things.

( Psychoanalysis of the Leader), a book to remember. Now the time for journeys has come for me, in the next months I've been invited to Huelva, San Sebastián, Vitoria, Murcia, Salamanca and Valencia, now I only have to wait and wait, it is pleasant when what is waited for is a desire.

My age has no limits , because my thought has no limits, I'm looking for an encounter with extraterrestrial aliens. I know, I was told, that if one writes to them, they appear. And on the other hand I know, because I'm a writer, that if they don't appear and I continue writing, I'll end up producing them.

And this way man discovered new worlds and right now, if we don't produce a deviation, man will produce his own death.

I'd like to have the courage to send you my last letters, seminars and those things. A sort of current budget of my thought.

A thought that even being unlimited isn't less practical, I mean that when the effects are social, nobody happens to ask about the purity or rationality of the method for the historical developments. I've just happened to think that the Congress ended in a sort of aperitif for all the exponents and participants, where they hanged on the walls of the auditorium, posters with allusive jokes for example, a slogan with propaganda of a specific political party which read "put your vote to work", and it was transformed into "put your sex to work", the one that was destined to me read "Menassa, bud, we want a son of yours". Of course, the group's suggestions during the week were referred to: it was better to fuck than not to fuck. And that after all, people generally ended up liking that.

In some more time I'll be able to invite you for a visit to Spain, I hope that you'll be available to come and visit me. Life is just beginning. Getting together at the beginning of life will make all of us greater. And getting together doesn't mean to transport ourselves from no place to no place.

A 50 years old teacher confessed to me that she had realised that she'd been doing everything wrong till the moment she knew me, and at the same moment she felt it was worth trying everything again.

I bought myself two pairs of trousers, three shirts and a black sport jacket with silvery buttons, I had my hair cut, and from one day to the other I rejuvenated ten years.

Young Argentine psychoanalyst exposes the subtle mechanisms through which the family reproduces the ideology of the state.

And it isn't as one might think that it is the first time in my life that this occurs to me.

Man hasn't yet been. He lacks the gaze upon himself. This century produces this gaze, we, dear sister, are just a small fragment of that big human Guinea pig on which the gaze is made.

And being happy, is not therefore an ignorance, nor happiness taken for granted, but it is having discovered the mechanisms through which history takes possession of the individuals so that their evolution becomes possible as human history.

I want to spend a few days in Buenos Aires and, then I'd be grateful for any idea that would make my dreams come true.

This time I'd like to converse with you in Buenos Aires, this time I'd like us to try the future together.

Now it's time for me to set off in a resplendent trip through the three capitals of horror: Israel, Buenos Aires, Colombia, and that would give me a new vision of what we have been going through during these almost three years in Spain, implying Madrid.

I don't have clear motifs for my trip to Israel, that's why it will be the first I'll make. I'm going to dictate 8 conferences about Psychoanalysis, Poetry and Madness in Cali, in Buenos Aires, to tell you the truth, I want very much to see you, the old man, the old lady, Elsa, Silvia, finally the trip to Buenos Aires is justified because it's a trip of love. Everybody goes through the same thing, it isn't serious to travel for love. Everything that may happen in Buenos Aires, apart from love, will be considered an extraordinary benefit for me like the cure in Psychoanalysis. Anyway, in Buenos Aires I'd like to co-ordinate some group or deliver a class about life and writing and, also, the last versions of some concepts in Psychoanalysis.

I'll write to Dad but I'd want you to inform him about the trip, and also to Mum, as a good thing that will benefit all of us. Thank you.

My trip to Buenos Aires will be in the first days of July, after Pablo's birthday which I want to spend with him.

Before that date I'll be back from Israel. The desert, can you imagine it?: A flow of warm sand against the face and in an instant man's history will be revealed to me in a different way. A sea in the middle of the desert where my body will never sink.

This letter is to tell you that I'm not travelling to Buenos Aires, that for the present time I'm not in the mood to do it and, besides I think it isn't convenient, nor safe for me to travel to Buenos Aires at this moment. The rest is alright.

I've just finished my trip to Israel and in a few days I leave for Cali which finally could be a place to meet each other, there is a dirty war like in Buenos Aires, but it isn't our war and it would be favourable because they haven't prohibited pot yet.

We have sent you by separate mail the N°3 issue of Cero Apocalypses that I hope you will enjoy. As from September we'll be in the street monthly. Olga is doing very well with her pregnancy and the child will be born the first days of October.

I was in Jerusalem and saw what I won't be able to tell you in a long time. There, it seemed to me that I saw at the same time all the past of our humanity and its future. Christ's Sepulchre, The Wailing Wall, Omar's Mosque, three different series of knowledge, (knowledge is in Heaven, knowledge is in the wall, knowledge is inside oneself), three different series of submission (death, crying, nudity), three different series of glory (over there, here, never).

And a fourth element giving life to this union: THE Jordan Market, the most delirious sight I've ever seen, clearly showing that money will eventually equalize all religions, all sexes.

In my next letters I'll try to explain better my decision of not travelling to Buenos Aires, for the time being.

Yesterday was Pablo's birthday and it was very beautiful to celebrate his fifth anniversary.

I'm happy of having loved so much, of having reached the limit of kisses so many times, happy of having embraced each other wrapped in the vapours of silence at night, of having lived the lust of the flesh and the fire, the splendid and crazy passion of words, happy of getting up one morning with my moist pupils stained by love.

It was a century of madness, we grew in all directions, hatred and love became enormous, poverty reached richness, stupidity and beautiful madness inhabited monasteries, the diseases caused by love reached the soul inhabiting silences, in his zeal to die, man invented viruses that fervently attack thought.

It should also be said that this century broke the guitar in the heart of music, the violin of wars was a wail that, flying towards the skies, reached pain. The trumpet became howl and the howl became song, even the saxophone bellowed some piety. There were drums of madness, this century, that exploded sounding like spheres of light.

Today is the thirtieth anniversary of a party. Negra and I gave a wedding party for 300 guests, list of presents, and allusive poems and sobs and farewells and definite encounters, without marrying.

There are celebrations in my life that illuminate all memory. There was a lot of conversation going on in Buenos Aires in 1970. Everybody claimed for proof before getting involved definitively with something, someone. With Negra we decided to live together before marrying as a small test, afterwards if things went well we would marry. We gave a great party to calm relatives and friends and started living.

It was a small test, afterwards we would do everything normally and we kissed each other. We had children, we wrote books, we went into exile, we had children, we wrote other books, death visited us, and 25 years after that kiss we decided that the test was over and married in the registry office of a small town to the East of Madrid.

The funny part of the story is that after five years of marriage we are still living together.

A book written by Miguel Oscar Menassa
To get along with your partner in the Holiday Season
and during some of the working days

“This novel is a monument to desire, not to its satisfaction and desire doesn’t fit in moulds norms”

Leopoldo de Luis

“ Menassa transforms eroticism into a real encyclopaedia of sexual relations”.

Juan-Jacobo Bajarlía