En fin. En un par de días estoy de vuelta en México, después de casi dos años en Santiago de Chile. Si fuera un escritor famoso, un científico reconocido, una celebridad refugiada por una temporada en algún descampado de este mundo cada vez más idiota, o por lo menos si fuera el yo que dejé de ser hace tiempo (eso siempre sucede) tendría que recurrir, pomposamente, al primer párrafo de "ATale of Two Cities". Así que me apropio del texto:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, I had everything before me, I had nothing before me, I was going directly to Heaven, I was going directly the other way--in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
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