Monday, February 28, 2011


I JUST posted something in Spanish for a change of pace, in one of my blogs, with some acceptance from locals and foreigners, or  the people, (
2011/02/en-el-viejo-san-juan.html).  A little bit rare, but when checking the local offer, blog wise, one should not be surprised.

There is a wide, wild readers market out there. Some, many, are looking for a difference, not necessarily views like their own, at least that is how I see it.  The others, the feisbuk tribe, go for friends, acceptance, networking and reassurance, tribe, peer pressure sheep.

I discovered a photography blog from an expat with the last name of one of those  USA generals who lost the silly war in Vietnam to Vo Nguyen Giap, the general that is.  Who had previously kicked some French butt in Dien Bien Phu.  Laugh if you will, all this to push you to figure the photographer's last name with 12 letters. First letter is W, last is d.

At any rate, my intense displeasure arrived when looking at his pretty pictures. While reading an article about Parque Luis Munhoz Rivera, a shitty dump with maimed, sick, dead trees all over, he described it as "well kept".  I know he sells his photos and must keep some looking the other way attitude, but I can not forgive it.  Honesty, should not stop a good photographer from selling a quality product.


My gardening days have changed somewhat. At least in terms of history. My Guaiacum officinale has bloomed after 7 years, for a first time on 25 February 2011..  I remember when it was four inches in a two inches wide pot, now seven feet tall. It was a present from Luis, the house negro in Parque Donha Ines,  a diseased branch of the Luis Munoz Marin Plantation, or foundation ( if you prefer. Click on the four pictures from POINSETTIA, going up, for recent posts links on these totally useless and costly institutions.

This money laundering institution is going to spend 5.5. million bucks from public/private monies for a new concrete box, in a new visitors center in a country practically bankrupt, Puerto Rico.  Add the 8 million wasted in  Parque Donha Ines (still without a web page showing what they do or a botanical inventory)  and you get 13 million dollars laundered in a useless archive/history full of dusty papers with fungi like institution in nine years, since 2002.  It is a dream, as  if Luis Munhoz Marin and/or his legacy  was in the same league as those original patriots/writers/thinkers/politicians  like Kennedy or Gandhi to name two.

At any rate, forgive me for painting the whole picture, regarding my Guaiacum, it will not happen again. Luis the house negro (still works there) took the tree from the nursery since phd Alberto Areces Mallea,( kicked out from Cuba) and his Mex-Olmec, Gabriela Ocampo, would not give anything from THEIR nursery to any juan. except to their CLOSE friends.

In other departments, the  Plumeria glabra, como el Guayacan, is in the same blooming mood.  I relocated and divided some orange Hemerocallis  and Pedilanthus tuberose. This last plant is hanging, in the north garden. It is a folk artsie pot, made of an empty soda crackers tin can.

I now have three of this historical pots hanging as a tribute to Lilliana Ramos Collado from Museo de Arte Moderno, another useless institution.  It is also a way to demonstrate that one does not need nurseries at all.  Our mothers and grandmothers did not, a hundred years ago.


What do you see when looking at the picture? Plastic pots? Green and white?
Poinsettias passing away?

Well all that is correct, but
is also wasted money, between forty and sixty dollars. It depends on where you buy them.

The big  ones are ninety days old,
soon to become organic waste.
I will probably recycle that soil with my own and a few pots.

The small Poinsettia, looking good is as old as those from the nursery, it is growing, alive and kicking instead of dying.  Propagated by your humble servant, a present from Rengui, horticultural collaborator.

 Multiply that amount 40/50 dollars by the millions of people buying Poinsettias from nurseries during Christmas to throw away a while later.  These plants are genetically designed to pass away. That way, next season you go and buy some again and so on.  I am afraid too many species from nurseries are in the same bag.

 I  reiterate. I have no use for nurseries.  Some bloggers in connection with/working for nurseries paint a pretty picture of flowers/plants accessories and juatever.   Antigonum the sage, believes one should buy some rooting hormones for nine bucks and propagate your own..Do not be a follower, set your own trends.

Now it is time to go.


Remember, only you can prevent forest fires. 

Click on the pictures to your left.  Check these variations on a theme. Parque Donha Ines and Luis Munhoz Marin Plantation, environmental, criminal money scam, artists/gangsters during  the last decade. Contact them, write, wonder if you may...

apaga i vamonoh.

Puerto Rico's landscape/hardscape history will be written in
BEFORE Antigonum Cajan or BAC and 
AFTER or AAC from now on.

I rest me case.

Friday, February 25, 2011


THIS wood vine is certainly one of the most attractive in any collection or garden installation.

Native from South America, Brazil
Peru and Argentina.
Louis Antoine de Bouganville a French Navy admiral
classified it in 1768.

There are four in our collection in the west, north and east gardens.
All varieties of the pink spectrum.  The first was a present from aunty Suncha, the rest propagated by yours truly.

Bouganvilleas are resistant to salt breeze, heat, drought and rarely attacked by pests.  In my case, the chewing kind, only a minimal aesthetic issue.  They prefer sandy, well drained soils.  Not tolerant to wet foot.

Pithelobium dulce is definitely my ALL time favorite tree in the monumental department. On top of its majestic architecture, 
the sweet pods are a source of food for birds and  insects.  That explains the last name, dulce.

My Bouganvilleas look and grow different since I do not trim/prune as the masses.  I allow the branches to do their thing, if there is friction, I cut from the base, never the tips.  That is why mine have more flowers than others all the time.

The one in the corner, shown at left was planted for security reasons also. It belongs to a very exclusive group of plants providing aesthetics and  home security thanks to the effective thorns.

In terms of propagation, with rooting hormones or not, it is not easy.
Of every four attempts, one survived.   It is time to go...You could find anything worth knowing in Wikipedia, or any place in the web.

apaga i vamonoh... 

The Ficus Post
and juatever
may be
worthy of 

Wednesday, February 23, 2011


 IN Puerto Rico, USA, and apparently the whole wild world, there seems to be an arbitrary, discriminating preference toward canines versus felines of the stray persuasion.  Yours truly, an exemplary citizen of the anarchic kind
tells it like it is.

The dogs' volunteer lobby pundits in the concrete/asphalt, have counted and declared to the news media 150,000 dogs are abandoned in this pathetic, always  looking to the other side or sweeping under the carpet cliche mood,  isle. I (me) writes, if that is TRUE statistically, with some margin of error,
then, half a million cats are in the same bag.

I know because I WALK the four cardinal points of  Santurce's urban frontiers, and I notice them.  Some philanthropists feed them, but do not take them to be neutered. This makes making a bad situation worse.  A vicious octagon. Farrukito, me pimp looking neighbor, next door to Tito Collazo, is one of them modersuckers.

Endemic iguanas, (check for the botanical, if in the mood), have disappeared in my street. The amount of birds, those visiting to hang out in our bird feeders, have also decreased. Thanks to these cats.

There is nothing to be done. The jack asses refuse to drink the water, once I, YOU, anyjuan takes them to drink.

In the end, what matters is acting and preaching. Antigonum shoots only at the bulls eye, hitting the mark more often than not.

Diva and Dalila are happy mixed breed dogs  Boxer/dober/Boxer Greatdane.

There are two pure boxers in our street.  Max totally depressed,  in San Agustin street and another in Ron's house, right across the street in Bouret.

Diva the seven decades, old brown, belongs to your hyper humble servant. Dalila to Tito Collazo, a neighbor and graphic artist. Two happy dogs with defined Boxer character traits: playful, mischievous, demanding attention, friendly, quiet, agile dogs. 

When I decide to play my wooden bongos, moved by some Cuban beat, in our music room, Diva the senior, will run to grab any of her favorite toys, seconds later.  I oblige with my left, keeping the beat with my right..

That is that. 
Isaber Caballer, cagate en tu mare,
will you? 


Sunday, February 20, 2011


THE difference between yours truly and other isle characters, the monitor concerned environmental lobby, or edible gardens,  is pretty simple. I practice what I preach.

If you never heard the guerrilla concept, go to, also known as pimping whatever. It simply means that you plant anything at hand in public or private places without permission.  That is what in my anarchist view on life makes it fun. 

However, the way it is practiced in Europe does not work here, for reasons
you may infer from my constant criticism to the natives and their treatment of all nature and creatures or flora and fauna ways.  Check the site, perhaps you could start something in your country or vicinity on your own, as I do, or with some disciples.

I chose this Pandanus for two reasons.
The razor thorn edges and its size.  I can not keep at home any longer, it is about three feet  wide.

The edges do not bother me, but they will make very difficult, believe me, to 
 anyone attempting to take it home as it happened previously with a beautiful cactus, planted in the other guerrilla snenario in the former San Carlos Hospital and stolen two days later.

The attack took place, it is located at the corner of Ponce de Leon avenue and Fidalgo Diaz street.  All was simple and easy. The whole procedure as seen in the pictures took less than forty five minutes from beginning to end.

The most difficult, as always, was digging a hole in construction debris, mostly rocks and clay. Hard as hell.  I used the gardener pick to initiate it, with  shovel and hands to finish, and finally planted it as seen to your left.

The spot selection was based on three reasons. No possibility of weed whacker attacks, aesthetic perspective and being able to observe it from our car, while passing through.

Now it is time to go.
apaga i vamonoh.


Rengui's Zammia 
and DK hanging.
My favorite Pleomeles.
The assymetric  growth
makes it wonderful.

Saturday, February 19, 2011


I JUST watched the film with the tittle twenty one years later on Turner Movie Classics, again.  I will not get into the merits of the film, if any, because it is not the time.

Let the record show this film is just a preachy, schematic attempt to present a negro view of life in New York, among 4 dominant ethnic groups. That is why it fails, life is not like an electrical system plan.

Ideologically it fails on two relevant issues.  One, the demands on one customer to the owner of a pizzeria to hang up pictures of negros besides the famous  Italians, covering the walls of the Brooklyn establishment.

Two. The absurd, pathetic scene between
Spike Lee and somejuan else in front of a writing on a brick wall: "Tawana told the truth".  Miss Brawley, a negro, accused some red necks of kidnapping and torture, not for money, but spite, not in the story, but real life.

Even reverend Al Sharpton, fell for it.  Later the victim was accussed of fabricating the whole scam, the crackers reputation in shambles...Why did Miss Brawley brought up the story? For the hell of it.

Meanwhile, back home, while visiting some fellow bloggers of the Minga/Petraca News Guild written in Spanish, I found a reaction from The Confussed Cuckold, the name of the blog, believe it or not, to my irritated reaction to the use of the word senda/sendo.  I have no use, not for slang, but incorrect usage in meaning of words or concepts in any media, even if I have heard/seen it wrongly used for forty years.  Composition, style and such in writing on the other hand, are irrelevant on this prairie.. Give me substance or give me death...By the way, to die blogging is to live forever, according to Flako Olivieri.

He in turn reacted as if I, the humble one, a legend spanning the globe, was unable to laugh, to feel humor deeply.  Defending his much better approach to philosophy or way of life. I believe his blog is for amusement only, or entertainment, but there is nothing wrong with that. I declare that his ability to laugh at himself and others is cool, but I doubt very much he could say one  word about any of my over 500 posts.

Prometeo,(imagine a blog with such a humble nick), and fellow members of the GUILD or PACK, as in wolves or jackals, took his shot at Antigonum, with epithets like comemierda and intellectual, in an indirect, as in hiding by a wall, not to be shot back fashion.

I tell this probably pure aboriginal TAINO, that I saw the term 'comer mierda' for the first time in El Cid, a Xll century epic poem that he certainly knows well.  Intellectual? I?
Not at all.  

This blog is about architecture in trees or buildings, maintenance as in roads or gardens, films, music and anything that provokes the hyper humble author, as the chief of the Minga/Petraca Guild  has written as a commandment in her good blog intro.

Do the right thing, not like the film. Look inside, if there is any introspection, something I seriously doubt.  Life is not the game some play with their blogs, posing constantly, as in a Feisbuk mode.

Religion, education, philosophy, life coaching, in my opinion is pure crap. The environment is not. Water, air, soil, a roof, food, my garden mean something, even with the eventual death of the blog, as endemismo. My ideas, your ideas all will become water and salt.

Some take themselves and their original, despues de ver los huevos, es perro, analysis on life, issues AFTER the facts,
or reading the newspapers, watching television they criticize so much.

I write to provoque. I do not give a flying fart about recognition, something apparently craved among the GUILD. 

I say more, to extent that riff raff,  mass, populace embrace  your so original  ideas, about sex, shit and human interaction, the faster and deeper in the quicksands of the insular concrete/asphalt, noisy, dirty, overcrowded chaos they will fall. 

All I see is baile, botella i baraja, among the sad people dying of nothing/nothingness.. amen...

apaga i vamonoh


Thursday, February 17, 2011


ITS HAS  been a while since the last appearance. I have been pondering about my new dash/photographer career, not the pretty cool, flower kind, but architecture, structures and trees.

I have known, visited  these city walls during forty five years.  They are kept and maintained by National Parks, a USA agency. They also take care of EL YUNQUE, a rainforest and eco/ pet/symbol of the native environmental blind fools, particularly the Sierra Club and its cult like followers.

These blindfolded fools believe the only environment worth saving is their precious pet: Corredor Ecologico del Noreste.   Antigonum your humble servant believes that urban scapes demand/require similar infatuation, after all, most natives live in concrete/asphalted urban contexts.

USA has screwed up many things in Puerto Rico, but too many people forget that they have also preserved others that considering the pictures that I will share in the photoarchives of  endemismotrasnochado, do not matter at all to the native authorities in charge.

If anyjuan is wondering about the garden, here is the latest update.

A new inductee is Taro. An edible tuber from the Alocasia family. The Carica papaya at home is blooming along the grafted Citrus aurantifolia.  The rebel Hibiscus of the yellow kind, has decided to offer some flowers for fans and pollinators.
Recently  propagated  with rooting hormones, Ocimun basilicum and Capsicum florescens, are alive and kicking.

That is that if you like this, you know what to do.

that is that

Friday, February 11, 2011


I went to Gurabo City, to deliver some gardening merchandise yesterday.  The residence is one of those over a quarter of a million bucks, built less than ten years ago in a thousand square meters.

It is a classical access controlled vicinity, with golf like lawns, acres of it. 

However, the housing project came with trees that have been removed by owners at their expense since roots embrace all pipes with precious liquid. Question: would you take the developer to court for imbecility?  Why should you pay in metallic for someone else ignorance?

This project has no fences dividing one property from the next. Owners plant Ficus, Rain Joe or whatever inadequate, incorrect vegetation is available in Home Depot or cookie mold nursery to plant 'hedges', to create an ineffective enclosure. 

I will not get into what these nice couple have planted since all is wrong and it is described as the essence of this blog. 

Is one thing is to kick in the sphincter, to be blunt with the fools responsible for the stupidity and making profits. Another, to offer pro bono one views.

There is a spot in their garden with poor drainage.  Humidity, acidity create the perfect condition for weeds and moss.  The solution is a French drain, cheap and easy to perform.

The lady of the house uses Roundup,  not realizing that at $25 a pop, it is a rip off versus Ortho for $9.  The difference in content is 5 percent of Glyphosate in one and 41 in the second.  The Roundup solution is not only like useless water, it also sprays your skin leaking around the trigger.

Let the record show that some pale supremacist gardeners club members had a debate about the Round product recently.  These members in the Olympic gardening heights,  jerks,  are rather stuck up and ignorant. NONE of these cultural standard bearers of the pale gardening segment of USA, mentioned the main ingredient, Glyphosate as if the brand and chemical were interchangeable.  Just like Pampers.

Back to the studio.

In brief these nice couple in Gurabo City, spend gas, oil, money, effort and time with a lame, common place, sterile garden.  When the owner can not perform the shores, a gardener for hire is added expense.

Hedges require a lot of time, demand a firm pulse, create a lot of organic waste.
Lawns, like hedges demand a cut and blow, since no body rakes any more, every 10/15 days.  Since 9 out of 10 people are ignorant, they cut it so short you can see dirt, thinking way the mowing activity will be less frequent.

Another BIG issue is noise. The worst kind of noises:  trimmers, blowers, lawnmowers.

Why would you buy a house in the prairies, with birds, flowers, love is in the air and such?  To have a bunch of jerks disturbing the peace every day when you want to rest, enjoy the scenery?

Time to go.
Having performed boy scout wise my duty, responsibility and above all, future bragging rights.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


IT has been a shock. Our shared provincialism, continental and islander as stated by Desert Dweller.  But I am certain that over there, people are capable of covering a hole in a main street correctly.  Down here, some may interpret the comment out of context, as our right to become a state of the union since: " Misery loves companion".  But since I read his out of the ordinary blog, I know what he means.

Yesterday, I went by one of the most quiet indoor places down here, the Christian Science, reading room, a  library like space.

Unlike USA and other regions of the world, in Puerto Rico, there are no public libraries, it is not part of the culture, except in universities and some schools where people behave as one would do in a  picnic or  a park in terms of quiet and reading for that matter.  


16 April 2007
pages 8-9

Here in Australia, we are seeing a sobering evidence of climate change.  Satellite images reveal an alarming depletion of the South Pole sea ice.  An increase in sea water temperature is causing the rapid bleaching ans slow demise of the world-famous colored coral of the Great Barrier Reef. Continuing extremes in weather, severe drought, and dwindling water supplies throughout the country, combined with what is happening elsewhere in the world, give rise to this question:
Shouldn't we pay attention to what scientists are saying?

In considering the answer, I have been thinking about the Bible prophets of Old Testament time.  The wise people of that era often voiced concern about the needs of the day and the consequences of not taking corrective actions.  Sadly, history shows that their warnings of the danger ahead sometimes went unheeded.

In praying for the future safety of this planet, including everyone and everything that depends on it for life, I have been seeking direction.  Are those speaking out about the global effects of climate change acting as wise prophets of today? Is Antigonum Cajan among them?  Are they alerting us to the need for action?  Are these warnings an inspired directive from divine wisdom?  In helping me to determine the answers, I have been pondering this thought-provoking statement made by Mary Baker Eddy in her book Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures. "It is the prerogative of the ever present, divine Mind, and of thought which is in rapport with this mind, to know the past, the present, and the future."

I can not put with this anymore. 

What is relevant, is that four years ago, in Australia and the world,  it was drought and recently, they got more rain than those forty days and nights with what we know what.

Praying will certainly 
resolve the matter.

As a culturally prone Catholic, I have no use for the Bible or any religion of the monotheist persuasion.
Thanks to their views on procreation the Earth has been destroyed, no turning back allowed. 

that is that.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011


WE began with the conviction that the role of man was not only  to be in the world, but to engage in relations with the world--that through acts of creation and re-invention man makes cultural reality and thereby adds to the natural world, which he did not make. We were certain that man's relation to reality, expressed as a Subject to an object, results in knowledge, which man could express through language.

This relation as is already clear, is carried out by men
whether or not they are literate.  It is sufficient to be a
person to perceive the data of reality, to be capable of knowing, even if this knowledge is mere opinion.  There is no such thing as absolute ignorance or absolute wisdom.  But men do not perceive those data in a pure form.  As they apprehend a phenomenon or a problem, they also apprehend its causal links.  The more accurately men grasp true causality, the more critical their understanding of reality will be.  Their understanding will be magical to the degree that they fail to grasp causality.  Further, critical consciousness
always submits that causality to analysis; what is true today may not be so tomorrow.  Native consciousness sees causality as a static, established fact, and thus is deceived in its perception.
Critical consciousness represents "things and facts as they exist empirically, in their causal and circumstantial correlations....naive consciousness considers itself superior to facts, in control of facts, and thus free to understand them as it pleases.  

Magic consciousness in contrast, simply apprehends facts and attributes to them a superior power by which it is controlled and to which it must therefore submit.  Magic consciousness is characterized by fatalism, which leads men to fold their arms, resigned to the impossibility of resisting the power of facts.

Critical consciousness is integrated with reality; naive consciousness superimposes itself on reality; and fanatical consciousness, whose pathological naivete leads to the irrational, adapts to reality.

It so happens that to every understanding, sooner or later an action corresponds.  Once man perceives a challenge, understands it, and recognizes the possibilities of response, he acts.  The nature of that action corresponds to the nature of his understanding.
Critical understanding leads to critical action; magic understanding to magic response.

Education for Critical Consciousness
Paulo Freire 1973

Once upon a time, circa 1969-1974, I studied to be a teacher, got a license, taught for 3 seasons.  I was in love with History, objects, teaching procedures and measuring them skills.  Teachers suck!

Down here some have blogs.  Their blog writing shows as  in a classroom, with a captive, obedient, docile audience.  My beef with teachers is that, besides the family,  they impose their silly, personal, narrow views on anything at hand in addition to the curriculum.  Rarely showing a once in a while spark of originality.

Tradition, Spanish language, customs, culture, flag, patriotism, seems to be their motto.  No wonder we have become a cave of thieves.  No impulse, support for those
looking at this pathetic reality differently, through another lens.

To all of them with/without blogs, but particularly to my favorites: Minga/Petraca Blog Guild, they bring you the news after tv/newspapers with their archaic plantation like views.  As if reality is just what they believe morally it to be, and therefore should be and become.

The article above is from some old, yellowish photocopies of better times.  When I thought the world would be a better place. The future, what a big lie. The future is now. And it seems to be more hopeless and fucked up than ever.

But do not despair...Keep on propagating, planting and or setting trends...

Monday, February 7, 2011


ONE of my earliest memories outside our wooden house in Savarona, when the ocean was new, since we lived far and had no car, was the park in the tittle, facing the Atlantic.

This 27.2 acre space goes back to 1919. The powder house built by Spaniards in 1769 is still around, (background Fig and Wig photo) even though is not opened to the public.

It was designed by Benett, Parsons and Frost in 1924.  "Restored" by Otto Reyes Casanova in 1990 and Andres Mignucci 13 years later.

I dare write the original hidden, beauty of this miniature park, is impressive after a decade short of a century, indifference and mismanagement. Paths, trellises, benches, trees, bushes and vines.  This is the only park, designed by people who knew what they were doing, in Puerto Rico, at least in the metro zone, there is nothing else.

Miniature when compared with legendary 843 acre New York's Central Park. Frederick Law Olmstead and Carlvert Vaux, designers  1857.

Unfortunately, being this isle what it is, with corrupt officials, inept public employees, ignorant fools as leaders, the park reflects all that is wrong with the culture, society, government agencies and its people, regarding the environment, flora, fauna, public spaces, architecture and non existent botanical inventories with systematic maintenance and monitoring.

In Puerto Rico, USA, dead trees standing and/or amputees is the rule. You will notice this when driving or walking around even if wearing blindfolds horse like. Dead and mutilated trees are permanently present in: back yards, highway medians, malls, plazas, museums, hospitals, schools, sidewalks and parks like Luis Munhoz Rivera. A reminder of the Roman Empire.  They used to impale them Christians by the road side for everyone to witness their rotting.

Check the pictures, be the judge. What seems to be the difficulty with eliminating dead trees and stumps? After all, there is no qualm to uproot, kill them, when alive and perfectly healthy. 

This is just the beginning. I will have to split it. All is wrong with this park has not been covered.  There is much more to share with fans/foes.  After visiting this run down park, we walked to the marble plastered Capitol area, with the the company of the mighty Atlantic to our right.  The next episode: A DAY BY THE PARK, will continue in the photoarchives, my other blog. Check it out, if you love or hated this. Sooner than you may expect.

that is that.


Saturday, February 5, 2011


Some  or none may have wondered juat the hell is going on with dis blog?  All the ugly 'art' , crumbling buildings, streets and sidewalks. Why do I write in English if it is not my primary language inquires one special education reader and fellow blogger.

Could it be knowing the phobia my compatriots feel towards this language
would limit the possibility of overcrowding? At any rate...

At any thing is clearer, cliche crystal. If the people, top to bottom from any country, can not repair correctly a hole in the middle of a street, the sentence is evident.  

No pride within in one's job or as a person. Complacency, mediocrity, lack of concern is the rule. A cave of thieves.
Puerto Rico, USA.

On the other hand, I had to relocate a Malpighia glabra in the south garden today.  It was not looking its best. It could have been a result of excessive shade, since the Passiflora edulis  on top of it and the two story abandoned house next door cast a shadow after twelve.

In the past, I would have taken some pictures of the 3' tall bush, the hole with added compost with earthworms, the irrigation and all the works. But who cares?  

All garden blogs are about photos, flowers, snow, tomatoes, and such. Very, very few are really into the deep.
Thank god for those.  They are stimulating and moving.

Following up in the Carica papayas department, I declare mine is doing pretty good, however, the one next door got some vascular disease.  The fruits showing at right fell on the ground. The top leaves have shrunk.  In the past, I would have provided some pictures, but now that I think of it, why should I?

If those gardeners interested are willing to find out what is wrong, ( is not the first time I see this papaya problem), will go to search and discover it.

Last night, around 9PM, having noticed Coccoloba uvifera leaves damaged on the borders while daily monitoring,  I went flash light in left hand, Antigonum's secret formula insect spray in right, to attack them brown beetles.

I sprayed, left, returning two minutes later. Well juat do you know? One went flying away the other two were somewhat stoned, but alive. Antigonum, your peace lover humble servant, had no choice but violence.  Squashed them creatures of god with  ill sensations of bad karma. But my people will understand, I am sick and tire of them bugs, eating them leaves.

Juats up with dis unnecessary them dis and dat? I like that southern USA, guay.
It must be Mark Twain influence. At any rate, now that you reader, see I am back to the garden, rest assure. 

The Caribbean still  has the best private residential collection in the urban context, a blog with a hyper humble
keyboardist and star propagator.

 If you like this
or hate it
remember only you can 
prevent forest fires.

later check at will
a tribute to depuertoricopalmundo/sinmordazas
endemismotrasnochadophoto archives
caribbean botanical review
click on PROFILE.

That is that.
apagad e iros. 

Thursday, February 3, 2011


T he relationship between Puerto Rico and USA, has created some ill conceived,
sickening view, demeanor as to our virtues.  The flag is always present. Islanders have to watch it constantly to feel a sense of belonging, silly, infantile pride.  To remember their place of birth.

When I questioned Esmeralda Santiago  author of "Cuando era Puertorrikenha", in my traditional humble ways, about lacking this national identity urge when I lived in USA, she had the courtesy to respond that, 'mine were different'.
I will leave this for the future.  It presents a juicy opportunity to kick some virtual and real ass, since I feel no blind love for USA, either.

Let it suffice, that every time I leave the house I find something to criticize, not for sport, joy, but duty. Me cago en la madre que los pario.

Check the footer.  This was the repair I mentioned before. They covered the hole, not before making it four times bigger, but failed to compact and cover it with asphalt.

Let the people know this is not one neck in the woods vicinity. The average house between Barbe and Sagrado Corazon streets, east and west of the University Sagrado Corazon are over 200  thousand bucks range.  Mind you these houses are over fifty years old.

If you like this, imagine what I have left under my sleeve.  I would like to invite all, to follow up in puertorrikenhadasinmostaza, where It feels more comfortable to discuss ways in which all Puertorican matters in business, culture, building and socialissues, to name a few are resolved: in a half assed, trivial, incompetent and superficial fashion.

Sure, depuertorricopalmundo, look the other way, tell us about the astronaut, the tennis player, el maraton and the fellow in the snow...Puerto Rico does it better?

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


When I started this path to sainthood five years ago, I never thought it would be so abundant with so many blessings, left and right, everywhere I look, or imagine, or remember.

Three characters mentioned in previous features were helpful with feedback and technical suggestions.  In those early days the writing was done in Spanish.

I developed a chronic allergy towards those blogs about the personal, life, poetry, really bad poetry and  our family
in this department.

I reiterate, the worst possible blogs are is those pretending to be a tv news broadcast or newspaper. Their modus operandi, down here, is to watch tv news, read the newspapers, often copying their photos, and offering their reading fans opinions, educated or not of the issue in question.

Always, from my view, in those blogs, the essence of our problems is being a colony or the lack of moral values.

Never, ever, the plastering of the isle with concrete/asphalt, 24/7: traffic jams, noise, crowds, architectural barriers for the blind, two wheeled people, craters in every street, road, highway and sidewalks, fraud, money laundering, tax evaders and the impossibility to stop millions of daily drivers to use public transportation now or later, since there is none, to name a bundle.

The Dead Blogs Society theme is something I dreamed about, last night.
It germinated after looking for one of me exceptionally rare plants, at least in Puerto Rico: Dipteracanthus prostratus.  Not so in India.

one of the blogs in the tittle, was/is in a few with the pertinent botanical names where I learned a few things, like the name of the above  mentioned, even with a big mistake: dipterantus vs dipteracanthus. 

The was/is above, means that a good blog never dies completely. If it goes beyond the personal, with some information, references that could be helpful while researching or just curiosity to even one reader.

without any redue
morisonhando 2
Amilcar garcia's Weblog 2
Elritmosinusual 2
frito verde 1
ursula 1
momentos solo momentos 10
endemismotrasnochado 9 
inartliesmyheart 8
yo soy mia 7

Units above 2 are months, else years., the account was killed by a hacker requesting money in my behalf, after a virtual accident in England.

I could not access the account after that. The last post was memorable.

One satisfaction left from those days, nine months ago, is that over  1,200 visitors from 108 countries have dropped by.

From this list of dead blogs or road kills, most stunk, RIP.  Only two will probably remain, resurrected after 24 hours.

To keep a blog is not coconut skin if you get me drift.  The subject is part of it, searching, being alert, no sleeping, no laurels.

that is that.


Tuesday, February 1, 2011


ONE would believe that covering a hole, any kind, size and diameter would not require much difficulty, education or skills. Except the one in the photos, as thousands if not millions, in Puerto Rico does it better.

Or the concrete/asphalt platform in the Caribbean, to my regulars, fans and foes.  I have taken this hole as a metaphor to ruminate as I do once in a blue moon or always, as some dissenters may think.

Before getting there I tell any reader that may venture to this feud, I am an a confessed anarchist, misanthropist of the critical horticulture persuasion. I have no use for the state, family and church. Those non Christians and/or non Catholics as a figure of speech. 

If people require this, instead of these as ELF, an islander jerk noticed recently, this error for which I should be shot according to jerks infatuated with English composition, style and such, believe ME, I know. But I do not care.

I appreciate the time to read, to find the many mistakes, but I confess: Me importa un pepino angolo, o un peo de puerca, Cabrones/as.

However, my appreciation would be remarkable if, besides, the grammar and spelling worries of the constipated, mentally dead, brainwashed in school and college, about correction, some thoughts, ideas, concepts sharing or contradicting my views will be APPRECIATED.  Otherwise, screw that uptight, square stress on form, screw you too. I care about substance, If I can not write according to your expectations, click, there are over one hundred blogs to pick from.

On the subject of why do I write in English if it not my vernacular, that shows your inherent stupidity, since many real writers like Nabokov, Juan Marse and many others, did the same thing, sure, with much better results, and certainly better grammar/style, but this is a BLOG.  Not a literary, university, academic useless mean of expression.

And the hole? Well, every time I see, watch single mothers, I wonder on the stupidity of it. Motherhood.  Actually, allow me to rephrase that. Motherhood has to be the most stupid of endeavors. Thanks to the act of penetrating an orifice spraying it with sperm, the earth has reached a point of no return.  Millions of children in every continent, abandoned, sold, kidnapped for body parts, prostitution, and slave workers. 

That is the wide scope. Close by, I watch , these (see ELF?) invader ones, illegal or not, or the natives creating, producing nothing, fed by the state. They carry cellular phones, have cars, cable and such. What have they done? To have children?  Patch and pray.

Like the hole in the first paragraph, the single motherhood repair is not showing any type of craftsmanship. Stupidity should not be awarded prizes. Philanthropy should BE a church activity, not the state.  After all, it is against abortion, the education of the populace on this issue. 

The islander patriots make me sick. Always preaching about dance, drinking and eating, the borricua, happiness and hospitality of their minds. JERKS.  Take that pride so often shoved like castor oil among the  unwilling, innocent and keep it to yourself.

I better go know. But let the record show that MANY countries in the third and not so third, show the same skill.

It is a lack of scope, planning for the long run. Patch the physical hole shown in the footer as I will show in a couple of days, the  
PUERTO RICO DOES IT BETTER , way, so it will grow like a cancer.

Patch everything for the moment, take a sit, pray and  watch juat jappens..

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