Newcomer, Saturday before noon, the first thing I noticed at the beach were the harmful effects of globalization (I raise my right fist to the sky in a salute that can also be fascist and start whistling the "Internationale" or a jingle Mac Donald's ) because of what happens in China (the book of Friedman's flat world was already old in my altar of books to read). It turns out that the excess not covered by the Five-Year Plan demand for raw materials caused by the awakening consumerism (enterrrar ending of communism, sorry, there is another reason most solemn) of over one million Chinese children have caused a severe supply crisis in the industry fashion women's swimwear that shortage of fabrics has decided to reduce heroically back of them, in an effort worthy of all praise for not letting the world completely without supplies of those items. From the Eye Faro I hope that the production crisis is resolved and not have the illustrious patrician fashion industry to start also reduce the amount of material to put on the front of the bottom of swimsuits woman. That was how I saw another fact of life in the twenty-first century: the difference between women who used only one thread rebellious submerged in the back of your bathing suit and those that do not, lies not in the state of the meat and skin of person, much less in age or Dare or disinhibition of the person, but lies in the purchase of the bathing suit and all women on the beach could be divided between who had bought her bathing suit in recent months (coinciding with China's textile crisis) and they had saved more time by his old garment of the attacks of the elements and physical and chemical and retained for several years, were in this lovely beach, a very silent minority. The observation was also used for empirical confirmation of what has been said before: "One of the salient Pop Culture hallmarks of postmodernism is that if before it was more difficult to find the skin in the swimsuit women, now is more work to find the bathing suit from the skin. " Prior to this conclusion Fukuyama came up to say that history had ended, of course it was not over, as Francis had to admit it afterwards, it was only, as the trickle, hidden (in some cave in Afghanistan or the desert Sudan, perhaps, but that's another story.) Only in a corner bar with a name liverpulianas had a marked influence of television, clearly visible from the sidewalk dedicated to the game Alajuelense Instead the crowd was composed of foreign-looking men and two hundred young women engaged in the practice of the second oldest profession in the world (the oldest is not because their customers needed to work on something, ergo: the first-oldest profession so they could hire their services.) In this bar in Jaco Beach girls formed a multinational melange of sex workers of many nationalities, very young Costa Rican, Dominican and mofongo Bemba Colora dry Argentine mate kept the bulb in your bag, Brazilian brunette posing for Dominican and I said "caltela" and "suckling pig" Nicaraguan silent and sad faces. All Twin distinguished by the cult hero who appears in the hundred-dollar bills I do not know what it is now, at last I got Goofy appeared. The main character in the novel "Platform" Houellebecq (can not remember his name, say it was called "Meursault") makes a defense of sexual tourism, according to the position of the character, the workers often come from poor households, prohibit work would then constitute a seizure the only factor of production that they own: their own body. That night the girls came out accompanied by the local to consummate his work forming dynamic fluid confirming the prosperity of the business. The match ended and I left the room, so to speak, actually left the sidewalk where he had spent more than an hour around the time I found a Colombian girls I had seen earlier on the beach, too much competition in the local, or perhaps in the healthiest sense of the term, I was not able to recognize them with clothes, I mean with that outfit and all its lights were forced to peer driven by market demands in the offering, according to the Meursault said of Houellebecq, his own factorcito of production (or not so tiny "corner of paradise" to believe possess). I walked a while by some of the main street and all I found it boring and conventional, as seen: type drugs on the street, street fights, drug addicts out of the ruins facing the sea where entrenched during the day, reckless drivers, staggering drunk. In the corner, about twenty feet from where I was staying, was a skinny girl pretty face with green skirt that seemed to point where they were exiled from the bar the other two hundred, a vicious coughing fit (I could almost see his eczema bronchopulmonary) will stopped answering my question, (bahh, it was nothing important, had asked the time or rate). I went to sleep. Three hours later I woke up the sound of a person coughing and vomiting in the street in front of the car I woke up three hours later, immediately remembered something I learned when I was a resident: Most of those killed by drug overdose die choking on his own vomit , the person was vomiting, I could not sleep and I was glad to have unilaterally renounced the oath of Hippocrates (my fingers crossed in my bag at the time of swearing), the death throes of the unknown person did not cease: Shut up River Phoenix , he yelled, getting up from bed, this is not the "Viper Room " and want to sleep, he sees that I am on duty the next week in the hospital. After a while the noise of the arches were replaced by the first siren of an ambulance and a police patrol later. Impossible to sleep well. I get up, go out into the street. The skinny girl's face of the skirt was still pretty green still.
Eye The Lighthouse Bitacora www.heribertorodriguez.blogspot.com 
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