Tuesday, July 17, 2018

Traduce alguien Carrier en Castellano


Bueno, cuanto al original, yo refuto a Carrier varias veces en ese blogue:

somewhere else

No es ese el solo, hay otros a quienes refuto en ese blogue, entre otros William Lazarus, y otro tiempo, también Acharya Sanning (ahora pudimos orar por que hiciese quizás un repentido, peró es demasiado tarde para discutir con ella).

Alguien quisiera traducir ese blogue (o postes seleccionados) en Castellano?/HGL

Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Nerva the Narnian in Telmar

Nerva abdicated. He had wanted to do this since the day when he got worried about the isopsephy of Μ. Νερουα and finally did so when the prophet on Patmos had been freed and he had arranged for Jews not to be persecuted.

Where should he go? To Narnia, where he was born? No, he was going to Patmos.

He arrived in a ship, but a storm took the hull. He had to swim to land. When he looked around, he was not on a Greek island, but ashore a lake in a wood, and there was no shipwreck behind him.

He walked ashore, sat down in the beautiful sunshine, and dried his clothes.

A beast, if you will call it that, came walking. A majestic lion.

"Esne leo quem vidit Ioannes?"

"Sum homo, sum leo, sum bos et sum aquila quem vidit."

"Et ille?"

"Non es propheta, non tibi narro historiam alterius."

"Scripsit autem de bestia quaedam cuius numerum isopsephicôs habeo in nomen Graecum."

Marcus Nerva paused.

"Erone bestia?"

"Non ita, hic latine et anglice loquuntur, tibique dabitur uxor quae ambis linguis loquitur. Graece hic non loquitur, non ob id Μαρκε Νερουα tibi timendum est."

"Et ubi eram?"

"Eris ο Μαρκος Νερβας. Et hic latine dicent Nervam, non Nerwam nomen tuum."


"Hoc debeo honori et meo prophetae : non enim sum Apollo, quem hic appellant Tash, non sum deus prophetiarum de quibus nullus exitus metuentibus."

Et Aslan iam non aderat, Marcusque autem Nerva audivit linguas quas non ante audivit. Tres viri aderant, unusque ex his, videns eum Romanum esse dixit "salve".

"Salve et tu," (paene dixisset salwe, sed meminit), "sum Nerva, Narnianus sum, quis es?"

"Pulverulentus Siccus vocor, pirata eram, nunc vivo in pace."

Eiusque filia futura erat uxor Nervae, et ab ea didicit anglice loquere.

And their descendants include one Caspian I, called Caspian the conqueror, and their descendants include King Tirian ...

Monday, September 11, 2017

Year 10 950 ARC (After Rocket Crash)

Conan found himself awakening during the history lesson.

"Some of you might wonder why, on certain occasions last week, the year ten thousand nine hundred fifty After Rocket Crash was not used. Instead you saw one hundred and one thousand nine hundred sixtynine A. D. - Anyone knows what A.D. means?"

Conan had a vague memory, turned his head where his associations went. Right : Harold was lifting up his hand.

"Yes, Harold?"

"A. D. means Anno Domini. It means Year of the Lord."

"And what does that refer to?"

"Year after Our Lord Jesus Christ was born in Bethlehem on Tellus I."

"Correct answer, Harold, but you need not overdo the empathy with those archaic superstitions."

"I don't think they are archaic superstitions, Sir. I think they are tr..."

"SILENCE! ENOUGH! As a punishment you'll go out into the corridor. The hologram TV is switched off, you'll have a boring time. Now, out."

And out went Harold.

The teacher - he was named Bertrand for some reason - went on.

"One hundred thousand years ago, we humans developed rockets on Tellus - you know, the third planet from Sol, also referred to as Tellus I, mentioned in connection with Bethlehem. Or also as Earth, though that is very archaic. The planet where our species evolved. And we developed rockets in the nick of time.

"One thousand years later, Earth blew up and we saved ourselves on rockets - and those who didn't died.

"Our rocket fleet roamed space for some centuries before finding a suitable planet. In fact, if we hadn't learned to make artificial ecosystems, we would have died on the rockets very quickly.

"Then we colonised space. Those on the original planet - the one we found, Tellus II, near Southern Cross - presumably don't know of our success, if they are still there. Ourselves, we know of it, since our own history goes on where we left Tellus II for Tellus III, three thousand years later - we know another crew went off in another direction before that, but we don't know what happened to them. That voyage took our ancestors three thousand years.

"After that ..."

The bell rang.

Conan went out to Harold. They went off to a corner of the schoolyard, while Bertrand was busy quelling a quarrel.

"You are a Christian, right?"


"Don't you guys believe he Universe is going to end, or something?"

"Yes, we do."

"Now we are alrady one hundred one thousand years after your religion was founded," Conan said, generously rounding off to the lower on the remaining nine hundred sixty nine years, "hasn't time disproven your prophecy?"

"Oh, not yet. You see, if it is true that the Universe was thirteen billion years old when He came, the time since then is still too insignificant to disprove it. He still came 'in the last times' and not midway or early in the history of the Universe."

"Wait ... you mean one or two or at least thirteen billion years from now, we won't be around and the Universe won't be around?"

"We'll be around, but the Universe as we know it won't. We'll be around and we will all be either saved or damned and living in eternal bliss or eternal misery. We will all have died and resurrected and we will not die again."

"All? I thought this Judgement stuff you believe in was about your acts, but what about the babies that are made twenty billion years from now? They won't have acted, will they be judged at birth?"

"We won't be making babies any more."

"So you'll have super contraceptives?"

"We won't be having sex any more."

"But you said something about eternal bliss ...?"

"Not that kind of bliss ..."

The bell rang for the next lesson. Conan knew he would be punished for having talked to a Christian who had declared himself so.

And while the bell rang, Conan found he had his eyes closed, was in bed and was waking up. As he did so, he recalled the real conversation with the real Howard.

And the real Howard was a Young Earth Creationist. He believed that Heaven and Earth had been created only seven thousand years ago - some say six, but he goes by a Bible text called Septuagint - and obviously this meant that Doomsday was coming much faster, probably no time to get to "Tellus II" even as per his dream in ... say AD three thousand three hundred and fifty ... and certainly no time to get to "Tellus III" in AD nine thousand three hundred and fifty. If Harold was right, that is.

That was what had bothered him the evening : what would they say of such prophecies one hundred thousand years from now after huge space discoveries had been made. And Harold had answered, with a very cocky, actually a bit nasty self assurance:

"Oh, we aren't there yet!"

Conan tried to get to breakfast after just dressing but was told to get a shower first. While under the waters, he reflected on something else Harold had said.

The stuff about saving mankind to other planets around other stars had, at least at its most basic principle, been tried before - by one Nimrod building a Tower of Babel. And God - some kind of invisible guy these Christians believe in - Harold actually said God had thwarted this, "because it won't work that way."

As he dried his hair with few quick strokes of the towel, took on same clothes and went to breakfast, he thought over and over again "if these Christians are right, there is so much which doesn't make sense."

And at the breakfast table he actually muttered these words a bit audibly, his mother asked:

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Going to school for one."

Here his father lowered the newspaper and asked:


"Well, if these creationists are right, we are taught minute details about a process or more than one which never happened, we are taught elaborate projects about things that won't happen, but nothing about the things that matter most."

"You know what, Conan?"

"No, dad?"

"You ask Harold for some scientific material, we'll go through it and see why it doesn't make sense."

And while the author of this story wishes them an ironic "good luck" with finding that, he also endorses getting the material and looking at it. Even from a Protestant, if it's the scientific stuff on Young Earth.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Lub Putinego?

Kogo? · Lub Putinego?

/  47  040  7
P  80  120  7
U  85  200  12
T  84  280  16
I  73  350  19
N  78  420  27
E  69  480  36
G  71  550  37
O  79  620  46

Friday, August 25, 2017

Meanwhile, What about Rose?

While Susan was in the ferry to Ireland, Rose woke up late in a curious place and whondered for a moment where she was. Ah, yes, the attaic of the empty house ... and in a pirate's den with lots of ginger beer bottles, some candles (there was a box of matches for her use), and something to cover the plaster between the beams : planks, a mat and some more. On an improvised "table" she saw a mark in the dust, where there had been a book.

She had been dusting the corner, but somehow that mark was glued, perhaps in solidified ginger beer. If you have read The Magician's Nephew by C. S. Lewis, you will know it was Polly Plumber who had prepared it. And, as you recall from the beginning of my book, or from the end of C. S. Lewis' The Last Battle, she had died in the railway accident. So had Digory Kirke, whom she had invited there when they were both children and had just become neighbours. But Rose had no idea of this. She was however aware - though there was no kicking yet - of the little life of a very tiny man inside her.

"Dear Eustace this is a curious place we are in, but we could be worse off, you know!"

She was fairly sure, even very sure, it was a boy, and she was thinking of her cousin Jill's friend (they had both died in the railway accident), as you can see.

And she felt hungry. And she saw, just outside where she was, there was some food left by the gipsies. Milk in a bottle, a bar of chocolate, bread, sardines. And there was a chamber pot, though she had no idea as yet where to empty it.

"Well, we've survived this round!"

She felt it was not just her baby, but herself too, who had escaped.

What she did then ... if you have been or known a pregnant woman, you may know. Afterwards she wondered when and where to empty the chamber pot, had no appetite and she drew the curtain to escape some of the smell.

"Afraid? We'll survive this too!" she said, as if thinking the reaction came from fear within her baby. As she calmed down (her stomach feeling better too) she presumed she had succeeded in soothing little Eustace. Perhaps she had.

And exhausted by growth of her offspring and by vomiting, she fell asleep. When she woke again, the chamber pot was no longer smelling. She looked out, there was a new and dry one, happily.

In she went, after a somewhat more humdrum use, took some chocolate, drank just a very little milk to it, woindered if she should like a candle, didn't and went to sleep after telling her boy inside:

"You liked that too, didn't you?"

But it was no real question, she was not in doubt.

Monday, June 19, 2017

On Campus

The black and golden slaves of florid sugar canes
Were flying back and forth and pollinating
And worms were squirming on the cruel hooks
As anglers roughly used them for the baiting.
The water of the lake was blue,
Reflection of the skies so true
And students for exam results were waiting.

Among the girls there (and the boys) most worried was
A girl as beautiful as sweet is honey,
A girl as gentle and as courteous as you wish
A waitress to be, if you give her money
And nurses in the hospital
If ever out of health you fall:
Except to her own self, her mood was sunny.

But thinking of exam results
Was taxing all her better moods
Her heart was down into her shoes
The thoughts like heavy catapults
Were throwing questions like the stones
On mind's defenses (not her bones!)

She worried to have answered wrong
Omitting this and failing that
In triflings (judged by talking at
A bar about it or a song
Retelling all the history),
And yet she feared too great they be.

A fellow student from the course she chanced to see.
A trifler and a dabbler in the study.
Disordered and thus over all the faculty
A story of his own - and was he muddy
In brain and mind and memory?
Pain in the ass of faculty
Except she was to him a kind of buddy.

Like oft before unpacking all the sandwiches
She had prepared at home and also coffee
In thermos bottle, she called out his name
And changed a bit of food for bars of toffee :
First cheese they ate, then sausages,
Then coffee with a toffee tress
Her mood was really better then a little while
But after that a moment came, was stuffy.

- "Oh boy, I think I failed the test."
- "Perhaps you did and so did I,
At least we gave it some good try."
- "You can't have failed, you are the best."
- "No, that is you, though well I do."
- "Your doing well is very true!"

- "O Kay, suppose we fail it all,
Why worry, life has more to give
Than studies, though I like to live
Among the books so classical."
- "And so do I, but right you are
(Though, frankly, you exceed by far

The standard talent for the college course,
You're absent minded like an old professor)"
- "Don't make me pround, I'm haughty as it is
And getting penances for it from my confessor!"
- "Ah yes," she answered then and there:
"You're Catholic, or so I hear!"
- "Indeed, that is a fact you need not guess for!"

Then rang a bell, out their professor came
"Results are here," he said with gusto.
He pinned the list unto a message board
(The solid object you can trust - o!)
A throng of students would be first
To verify the best or worst
But girl and boy no quicker than they must - o!

Their talk went on behind the rest
They wanted to approach it last
And really were at all not fast.
"Come on, you two, you scored the best!"
A comrade shouted to the two,
And so they did, they had to do.

She had no faults and he had one
From negligence, there is no doubt,
They both knew what they were about.
The test was done and it was fun
To get the papers they had wrote
And read each red professor's note.

They gave the papers back to archive them
As these were those that were the most important
Of all the year. Our couple saw the victory
As somewhat of an optimistic portent.
And yet they knew within their heart
That scholarship and even art
Do matter less than matters more important.

The black and golden slaves of florid sugar canes
Were flying back and forth and pollinating
And worms were squirming on the cruel hooks
As anglers roughly used them for more baiting.
The water of the lake was blue,
Reflection of the skies so true
And anglers for more fish were waiting.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Quise aprobar un mensaje en un grupo

Y quise responder. Entonces copié a los objeciones y hice respuestas, en atendando que aprobar el mensaje.

"1 donde a pedro se le llamo papa o vicario de Cristo"

Papa? Mismo Pablo es un poco papa según I Corinthios 4:15.

Vicario de Cristo? Juan 21:17, conferese con Juan 10:11, 14.

"2 cuando pedro fue a Roma"

Antes de murir como martir.

"y se le dio a conocer como jefe del estado"

No lo hizo, es más tarde que los humildes heredieron la tierra.

"3 cuando pedro uso mitra papal"

No importa. Quizás no lo hizo. Mitra es una tradición eclesiastica, no una tradición apostólica, que yo sepa.

"4 cuando pedro promovii el uso de imagenes religuiosas"

Moysés lo hizo: Exodo 25:18. Y el Rey Solomón: III Reyes 6:27 (I Reyes por ellos que llaman a I y II Reyes I y II Samuel).

"5 si es pedro la roca sobre la que esta fundada la iglesia donde el o lo a apostoles lo confirman."

Es el principal apóstol, y otro apóstol, San Pablo confirma eso Ephesios 2:20, que los apóstoles en común mismo son la roca. En unión con Cristo, no sin Ello.

Bueno, no pudí responder eso, ya que ya no pudí aprobar el mensaje. Era ya borrado por otro moderador o por un administrador. O mi parece eso.

Hay otro mensaje, del mismo. Aproví y respondí ayer sobre eso de "Constantino el primer papa", y respondí en primer lugar que es curioso que los papas antes de Constantino, Pedro, Lino, Cleto, Clemente, y otros, considerados como "pastores evangélicos" pudían desaparecer, y luego deció el comentador que esos no existieron. Respondí que sin linea entre el tiempo de Jesús-Cristo y Constantino y esa linea de Cristianos conocidos, y sobretodo si la linea credida por nuestra tradición es una chiste por Constantino, es difícil de probar que no Jesús-Cristo también sea una chiste de Constantino.

Hoy, encuentro ese mensaje - o no. Faltan mis respuestas. Busco, y miro que no es el mismo mensaje, que aprobé ayer, es solo el mismo meme, peró republicado más tarde. Que mirable entonces, que faltan mis respuestas!

Sea parece que el mismo no quiso discutir conmigo, sea que otra persona, otro moderador o un administrador o una administradora borró a la publicación que hube aprobado ayer.

Y de las dos maneras, no me parece tan simpático discutir aquí.

Hans Georg Lundahl
BU de Nanterra
San Pascal OFM de Villa-Real