<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-758972234045278847</id><updated>2011-07-08T07:16:24.811-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nuevos Atletas</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nuevosatletas.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/758972234045278847/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nuevosatletas.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>nuevosatletas@gmail.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09504664878988928275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-758972234045278847.post-3278691142528258121</id><published>2009-09-16T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T13:32:03.694-07:00</updated><title type='text'>E.N.A.</title><content type='html'>El 15 de Enero de 1888, un año antes del periodo conocido&lt;br /&gt;como su euforia en Turín, Nietzche escribe en una carta a su&lt;br /&gt;amigo H. Közeliz: “La Vida sin Música es simplemante un&lt;br /&gt;error, un aburrimiento, un exilio”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lo que se presenta hoy en nuestras manos, es una brecha&lt;br /&gt;abierta, entre las palabras y las cosas, por donde estos autores&lt;br /&gt;hacen emerger lo más puro del fuego estoico, inundando&lt;br /&gt;estas páginas con la más intensa musicalidad que subsiste&lt;br /&gt;bajo la superficie del signo.&lt;br /&gt;Es la Vida misma transformada en Literatura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V.G.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/758972234045278847-3278691142528258121?l=nuevosatletas.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nuevosatletas.blogspot.com/feeds/3278691142528258121/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nuevosatletas.blogspot.com/2009/09/ena.html#comment-form' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/758972234045278847/posts/default/3278691142528258121'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/758972234045278847/posts/default/3278691142528258121'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nuevosatletas.blogspot.com/2009/09/ena.html' title='E.N.A.'/><author><name>nuevosatletas@gmail.com</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09504664878988928275</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
