Six months ago, a political group in Spain made a big fuss and noise when the Government of Venezuela closed down the anti-chavist RCTV TV station, and waved the flag of freedom of speech, called the democratically elected government a “regime”, and called their president a “dictator”.

On Sunday night, these very same people, following orders from the leaders of the Valencian government —or should I say regime—, drove up to the top of the Carrasqueta peak in Xixona, in the South of the Valencian Country, and protected by the winter's darkness, proceeded to force open two locks, broke into ACPV's property and unplugged and precincted the equipment which had been broadcasting the signal of TV3 and the rest of the public Catalan TV channels to the South of our land, for the last 21 years.

Although this wasn't unexpected it is probably one of the biggest attacks to freedom of speech, choice and plurality since democracy was restored in the state. The political benefit PP is planning to obtain from this attack is clear: pleasing the regional right-wing cavemen who think we have nothing to do with the Catalan culture just 2 months away from some very decisive elections will probably give them a handful of extra votes. There are also economical interests involved, like having right-wing media groups control even more digital TV channels that they already do, but that's really anecdotic now.

Two nights ago, it was the South. In a matter of days, the antennas in the Bartolo, in the North of the Valencian territory, will also be unplugged, blackening the screens of thousands of Valencians who think they have the right to watch decent quality TV in their mother tongue. Thank you, fascists.

1:00 AM. València celebrates with big fireworks, and drivers sound their horns along Blasco Ibánez. People are happy; we will have our urban F1 circuit after all. Our city will continue growing and becoming the very best of Europe. Our land will continue to be developed, and finally becoming the new Côte d'Azur, for the great benefit of a few.

The slow but unstoppable process of degrading a culture to something that can be admired by tourists during Fallas just reached a new milestone.

Welcome to my ex-country. The land of golf, sailing and open-wheel racing.

València clearly leaves no room for mistakes when it comes to bicycles, I just got reminded of this the hard way today.

Last night I came out of the institute just 15 minutes before the closing of the supermarket, and I wanted to buy some stuff for dinner. I rushed back home, and decided I had no time to go up to drop my backpack and bicycle before they would close, so I just tied it to a street lamp outside the supermarket door. I ended up buying a few heavy things like milk so when I went out I then realised I wouldn't be able to carry the four bags, plus the backpack, plus the bicycle up, and the easiest would be to drop the stuff at home and then go down again for the bicycle. Great plan, except after placing the food in the cabinets, I totally forgot about the bike and did the usual cooking-laundry-computer-bed ritual.

Only when I was ready to go to work today I realised the bike was not up in the flat, and I suddenly realised about my fuckup. A quick glance from the balcony revealed what I suspected: the bike was no longer there.

This is quite annoying because there are at least three bikes that sleep outside on the street every single day, although they look “old” and value-less. Ironically, I value old bikes more than any new mountain-bike like mine, which I got for free from my bank, and was pretty crappy, even if at first glance it appeared to be quite ok Orbea (the gears were crappy Shimano, the back wheel was deformed, and a long etc. of quirks).

As I feel quite impaired without a bike, I'll try to get my mother's Orbea Laida, fixed ASAP, something I should have done 7 months ago. For now, I'll just run home/to work; I really need it anyway.

People tell me I should just get one from the stolen bicycle market in València, and I get mad at them. These people are the reason there's such a big offer for stolen bikes, and they get stolen nearly professionally in València. Sigh.

Turning 29 means I'm really near the age of 30, becoming grumpy and watching how the 40's keep getting closer and closer. Oh no!

On the more positive side, it also means I've been getting calls from the people who love me all day long, and I'll celebrate with my friends tonight, at Terra. Thanks everyone!

Tomorrow at 9 in the morning some officers from the Valencian regional Government will drive up to the mountains of the Bartolo, Serra Perentxissa, Montdúver and Carrasqueta to power off the set of antennas which have broadcasted the signal of TV3, the Catalan public television, during the last 20 years for the entire Valencian territory. These news have been responded with protests from most of the Valencian cultural collectives. You can sign a petition, or send an e-mail, which will be swiftly ignored by the people in charge.

Behind the official reasoning for this attack to our freedom of choice -the broadcast is illegal- there is a set of good reasons for the usual suspects, the Valencian Partido Popular to do this. The biggest one is that two months before the local and regional elections, the right-wing are doing their math and it may not be working out too well for them. They need to scrape as many votes as they can, and an easy granary is attracting the extreme right-wing, which is a bit active but fragmented in the region, and mostly in the city of València. This social group is greatly virulent against anything which sounds like “Catalan”, especially the people known as “blaveros”, who claim our culture and language has no common root and has nothing to do with the culture and language from the North. Fortunately, the ISO 639 standard and the entire scientific community agree that they are nuts.

But back to my rant. So, how can the PP try to get a handful of votes from the right-wing? Easy, start an anti-TV3 show on the media and start scalating it until the final act -tomorrow-, where milions of citizens are deprived of one of the best channels available in our TV sets. This will surely be sold as a major victory against the “Catalan invasion” or as the end of an "alegal situation", although there are like 30 other channels in the same situation in the city of València, and the PP-controlled Canal 9 channel is broadcasted in the Balear Islands (also controled by PP) in the same legal situation.

In a time when watching Middle-East or American channels is trivial using a satellite set, some people think the best thing they can do is to end a service paid and provided for free by Acció Cultural del País Valencià, an important cultural entity, during the last 20 years, ending the right to choose one of the only channels with all the programs in our language for milions of Valencians. Their right to do it is also challenged in court, but there is no doubt that tomorrow they'll go ahead and shut it off.

We could have a reasonable government who would maybe want to accept the Catalan TV and radio channels in our territory, if the Catalan government would also accept our (crappy) channels in theirs, but they refuse this as well, because they now “feel insulted”. All in all, I had enough of PP long ago, and am hoping I am not the only one. In less than a month, Valencians will celebrate the 300^th anniversary of the Batalla d'Almansa on the 25th of April of 1707, although we seem to be fighting a new battle now in 2007.

The Batalla d'Almansa meant the end of the War of the Spanish Succession in Spain, but also the start of tough times for our culture, language, and people, when Felipe V abolished the Valencian furs. But this story can make a blog post of its own next month.

Quan el mal ve d'Almansa, a tots alcança...

Last weekend I had great fun during my first calçotada with my friends in Picamoixons, very near Valls in Tarragona. While it's already a tradition for my friends, this was the first time I went there, after having missed many other opportunities probably due to my overcommitment to triathlon training a few years ago.

So on Friday we drove up North to Catalunya, and arrived quite late to Frago's house in the center of Valls, where we slept in two packed rooms and the terrace after getting some beers in Dune. Early next morning we met Frago's friends and bought the necessary vegetables and wine for our great lunch, and soon after we were in the middle of some olive field outside Picamoixons, where we prepared a big fire and the calçots.

A calçot is a special type of onion which grows in the area, which ends up being very long and thin. After cutting part of the green leaves, they are cooked over the flames, which carbonises the first few layers of the onion, but leaves the inner part ready for consumption. After this, you just need to pull from the inner leaves to get rid of the burnt stuff and eat the rest with a delicious and typical sauce for calçots. So far, so good.

What if your group of friends has extended the tradition, allowing for extra fun bits? In our calçotades, after you've peeled the calçot, you keep the carbonised stuff. It's valuable ammo, which will soon be thrown at others' faces. Trying to remain clean is futile, you soon are covered by sauce and black stuff all over your head and clothes. This was real fun!

After eating part of the group went up a mountain to visit an arab tower, which helped me not to get totally drunk before the night. When it got dark, we were all back to our positions around the fire, chatting and listening to varied music, while we waited for the lunar eclipse.

The eclipse was impressive, seen from the country side, with absolutely no luminic contamination. My friend Jordi carefully prepared his camera to do a good photograph series of the event, and the results were impressive. When the eclipse was about to be full, it was great to see a miriad of stars appear in the sky, previously hidden by the perfect full moonlight. We were just too lucky that the weather fixed up just on time to have a completely clear sky.

The lunar eclipse, as seen from the Catalan countryside. Pics by Jordi Jover.

Many were quite tired by 3 or so, so we started setting up tents and went to sleep by 4. Sunday was a slow day, dedicated to cleaning up our stuff and eating leftovers cooked on a new fire. We were back in València at 8PM or so and even after showering and cleaning my hair with shampoo, my head still smelled like smoke. Actually, I think it might still smell a tiny bit today.

In short, a lovely weekend, which I hope to repeat next year. Too bad the lunar eclipse bit will be missing for quite a few more years. :)

Two Fridays ago, on the 15th of December, I finished my support contract with Canonical. Last Wednesday, or just 5 days after leaving Canonical, was my last day working for LliureX, the Valencian Debian-based educational distro which is being developed by the Conselleria de Cultura, Educació i Esport. Definitely an intense week...

In both cases, terminating the contract was my decision. I was working for Canonical for a small amount of hours per month, and I enjoyed doing it as it allowed me to work along with the great people who are developing Launchpad in a unique company like Canonical, but at some point my stress started to pile up and freeing time for myself seemed a good thing to do. I also had been working at LliureX for 2.5 years and I was starting to feel I had to move on, as the project has changed a bit since I joined it and because I think I need to see new things and explore new challenges.

And the challenge is called ITI, a CS research institute in the Universitat Politècnica de València, where I'll start working in a pair of weeks thanks to ex-lliurex co-worker Sergio. My main task will be sysadmin work, but the ITI gets many interesting contracts every few months, and I suspect I'll be working with Debian and Ubuntu at work very soon.

The new job is pretty close to my house and the idea is that being in the University campus and having some more free time will allow me to retake a few activities like completing my studies, resuming some of my triathlon training (you've gotta see the awesome athletics ring and olympic swimming pool just 100 metres away from the institute!) and other stuff I have been neglecting for way too long.

I leave behind quite a few friends and many good people, and getting used to the idea of not speaking or chatting to them on a daily basis isn't that easy. To compensate, I'm sure I'll meet lots of cool people next year.

Bones festes!

There were more shocking news for me when I got back home yesterday.

Via Toni Hermoso, I learned that Toni Cucarella, a Valencian writer I recently discovered, just announced that he has abandoned his writing activities, just a little bit after announcing he wouldn't further update his blog.

I learned about Toni Cucarella's literature aproximately one year ago, when I heard about a new novel, Quina lenta agonia, la dels ametlers perduts, on the radio, which sounded interesting. The book fascinated me as soon as I started reading. Describing the life of a group of children in the outskirts of Xàtiva, a small city south of València, in the late 1960s, Cucarella managed to transmit some feelings about my childhood during the summers of the early 80s around my town in the inner province of Castelló.

It wasn't anything in particular what did this, but the way the book was written, which managed to describe how these kids lived happily and in freedom around their houses, regardless their economic status and the difficulties their families went through. All of this reminded me of my sister, cousins and friends running around the streets and fields, away from our parents or any adults, in a time when nobody thought this was dangerous or irresponsible. The only two sins were to play on the road or to get back home a lot after the sunset.

Toni Cucarella has been very vocal against the Language Authorities in València regarding the unity of the Catalan language, and specifically against the Acadèmia Valenciana de la Llengua, a recently created institution which now has competence over the "Valencian language", something that was previously in the hands of a scientific institution like the Universitat de València. He has finally burned out, not only due to the bad situation Catalan literature is in the Valencian Country, but also because leaving aside two very prominent exceptions, Valencian authors are basically ignored in Catalunya, making their subsistence quite difficult.

I hope Toni can build some new motivations after some time and the public can enjoy new novels written by him in the future, as well as more of those very interesting blog entries we had got used to reading every few days.

In the meanwhile, thanks for your writings, Toni, and good luck with your new activities!

Last night, when we got home after the long weekend up around the awesome Terres de l'Ebre, first thing I learned from the news is that Augusto Pinochet had finally died while we were driving back. It is too bad that once again he managed to avoid a trial that would have made him officially guilty of all the horrible happenings of Chile during his military coup and his bloody dictatorship.

But he's gone now, and this will be a great relief for the thousands of Chileans who survived his regime, and for those who lost family members or friends just because they defended some ideals. The world will associate his surname to torture, murder and corruption; he surely won't be remembered for the image of the old, calm man surrounded by family members that an ever-shrinking minority tried to transmit.

Last night, I raised my cup to celebrate Pinochet's death. ¡Viva Chile!

Today I went to the hospital to visit the opthalmologist. The good news: as expected, what happened the other day was just a case of optical migraine, which needs no treatment and I shouldn't worry about. Thanks to everyone who mailed me or commented in the blog giving advice or wishing me luck!

The doctor examined my retina, and found nothing wrong with them that would cause “lights” or total blindness. He did find what he described as “the start of retinal folding”, which might be congenite, but I should keep an eye on in case it becomes a real problem. Apparently I should be vigilant to objects appearing with deformed shapes, etc.

So I came back earlier that expected to office, but I really can't do anything here due to the pupil dilation. Everything is blurry, light is extremely annoying, and I'm writing this using a ridiculously big terminal font.

The “get decent sleep” plan continues, and I've been sleeping the expected amount of hours since last Tuesday.

The other day I had an “incident” involving my vision. It has nothing to do with the vision problems many people had the other day, when someone posted some pr0n on various Planets.

For some time already, maybe two or three years, I've had this weird vision problem at times, when I'd start seeing some black stains with some flashing “lights“, even with my eyes closed. These symptoms would go away after a few minutes, and washing my eyes with a good amount of water also helped. It happened a lot during mornings, and I somehow connected it to showering with too hot water, using a certain brand of shampoo (Say no to Revlon!) and shower vapour. When I described the symptoms to my mother, the reaction was the expected in a house of doctors and nurses: indiference. En casa del herrero, cuchillo de palo, for those who understand it.

On Sunday I stayed up helping Belén with her DEA paper until 5AM. I woke up at 7:30AM, and stayed at work like a zombie, until I had a chance to have a needed nap at 6PM. The problem was my nap was a bit longer than I wanted, and woke up at 9:15PM, still tired but no longer sleepy. I wasn't sleepy until 4AM, and next morning I accidentally overslept, and rushed out of the bed to get to work as soon as possible.

While preparing, I suddenly noticed my vision went a bit blurry and strange. I thought it just was one of those ”stains”, until I closed my right eye to rub it and all I saw was darkness.

I totally freaked out. “OMFG, I'm fucking BLIND”. I wanted to phone someone, but wireless had broken down and I didn't have my mobile phone with me, so I tried looking at a text file I have in the laptop with some numbers on, when it ran out of battery. I grabbed my old mobile and failed to introduce the correct PIN three times.

I went to the bathroom, covered my right eye, and yeah, there was darkness. If I waved my hand over my blind eye, I would barely notice some movement on the left side, but that was all. Still very frightened, I washed my eye thoroughly and to my relief, I was able to see the upper part of my field of vision. After some more, I had recovered all my sight. Whew.

I managed to speak to Raül on the phone, who told me this probably wasn't too bad, just the optic nerve being tired due to stress and so on. My mother also asked an opthalmologist at her hospital the day after, who confirmed this. It's probably caused by my recent whacky sleeping habits (basically non-existing), general stress, and long exposures to computer monitors. The doctor asked her if I had a headache, which I didn't the day before, but I had one the day after, when she asked. “How do you know?”, I replied.

Last night I went to bed at 00:05 and managed to sleep eight hours for the first time in many months. I'm really going to make an effort to fix my sleeping habits, because they were quite fucked up lately, not catching up sleep even during weekends. On Monday I'll visit the doctor anyway, just to confirm all of this.

Coincidentally, Russel Coker also had similar symptoms this week, and also blogged about it.