Moctezuma Quotes

Over the years I’ve dreamt occasionally about that day and evening at Teotihuacan. It’s always the same: Moctezuma and I sit close together, huddled on stone steps at the bottom of the Pyramid of the Sun. His magnificent iridescent headdress bobs in the twilight as we talk, as he gestures. All is well.

Thank heavens that somewhere deep in all women is a whore

Bullshit is truth, truth bullshit

On August 31, the small Spanish column crossed the frontier of Tlaxcala, a state constantly at war with those parts of Mexico directly controlled by Moctezuma.

Cortés remained in Cholula for several weeks, parleying with the emissaries of Moctezuma and preparing to march to the city on the lake.

The crowd was incensed. It was worse than a Trump rally.

Bullshit is Truth, Truth Beauty

On the sound of handcuffs-- "For me it's the sound of all light and hope crashing down on a minority.

Moctezuma was, indeed, a complex man, intelligent and impressive in appearance. Bernal Díaz del Castillo wrote: “The Great Moctezuma was about forty years old, of good height and well proportioned, slender and spare of flesh . . . He did not wear his hair long, but so as to cover his ears; his scanty beard was well shaped and thin. His face was somewhat long, but cheerful, and he had good eyes and showed in his appearance and manner both tenderness and, when necessary, gravity. He was very neat and clean . . .

Then one morning, a great causeway appeared in the distance. Spreading before them was the broad avenue leading toward Moctezuma’s capital. Years later, Bernal Díaz del Castillo wrote: “We saw so many cities and villages built in the water and other great towns on dry land, and that straight and level causeway going toward Mexico, we were amazed . . . and some of our soldiers even asked whether the things that we saw were not a dream. [We were] seeing things . . . that had never been heard of or seen before, not even dreamed about.

Cortés in his own way helped keep the countryside stirred up by demanding that all of the available gold in the area be brought to Tenochtitlán as tribute. With this tribute, and with other treasure that had belonged to Moctezuma’s father, the Spaniards were kept busy for days just assessing the value of their loot. The small pieces removed from Aztec jewelry alone were valued at 600,000 pesos. Goldsmiths were brought in from a nearby town, and they smelted the gold into slabs. The Spaniards were unable to weigh the treasure accurately, and Cortés suggested that no one take his share until it could be divided more equitably. But the captains and the soldiers had come too far and fought too hard to be put off. They demanded a division of the spoils, and Cortés had to consent.

FUCK IT, I’M BORED.” “Here he comes.” Theo didn’t even look up when Miles rounded the corner and tossed his notebook onto the counter. “I don’t think cursing is going to help,” she told him. “Maybe it fucking will.” Miles seethed. “I hate everyone in that gym. Pick someone.” “No, I don’t want to play.” “It won’t take that long.” “That’s why I don’t want to play.” “Can I do one?” I raised my hand. “It might actually take you more than five questions, too.” Miles quirked his eyebrow. “Oh, you think so?” “If you get this in five, I’ll be thoroughly impressed.” He leaned over the counter, looking eager. Weirdly, weirdly eager. Not like he wanted to rub my face into the floor. Not like he knew he was going to beat me. Just . . . excited. “Okay,” he said. “Are you fictional?” Broad question. He didn’t know me as well as he knew Theo, so it was to be expected. “No,” I said. “Are you still alive?” “No.” “Are you a leader?” “Yes.” “Was your civilization conquered by a European nation?” “Yes.” “Are you . . . a leader of the Olmec?” “How’d you get there?” Theo blurted out, but Miles ignored her. “No,” I said, trying not to let him see how close he’d come. “And the Olmec weren’t conquered by the Europeans. They died out.” Miles frowned. “Mayan?” “No.” “Incan.” “No.” “Aztec.” “Yes.” The corners of his lips twisted up, but he said, “Shouldn’t have taken so many guesses for that one.” Then he said, “Did you found the Tlatocan?” “No.” “Did you reign after 1500?” “No.” Theo watched the conversation like a tennis match. “Are you Ahuitzotl?” “No.” I smiled. This kid knew his history. “Tizoc?” “No.” “Axayacatl?” “No.” “Moctezuma I?” “Nope.” “Itzcoatl?” “No.” “Chimalpopoca?” “No.” “Huitzilihuitl?” “What the hell are you saying?” Theo cried. He’d cut off a chunk of the Aztec emperors and whittled them down until there was only one remaining. But now he had three questions left—two he didn’t need. Why hadn’t he cut it down again? Surely he could have shortened his options and not guessed his way through all the emperors. Was this some kind of test? Or was . . . was he showing off? “You’re Acamapichtli.” There was a fanatical gleam in his eye, another smile playing on his lips. Both were gone as soon as I said, “Almost twenty. Not quite, but I almost had you.” “I’m never playing this game again,” said Theo, sighing and returning to her homework.

Polisi wa kituo cha kati cha Coyoacán kumbe hawakuwa mbali na sehemu zile. Walipoona gari zikifukuzana waliona ujanja ni kuwakatisha Vijana wa Tume katika vichochoro. Haikuchukua muda magari sita ya polisi yalitokeza Vallarta (Barabara ya Vallarta) na kuliona gari la Vijana wa Tume Gómez Farías likipepea kwa mwendo mkali kuelekea Cuauhtémoc, na gari za magaidi kwa nyuma yao. Kwa vile Ferrari ilikuwa mbali kidogo na magari ya magaidi, polisi hawakuitilia maanani sana kwa kudhani yale mawili (ya magaidi) ndiyo yaliyokuwa yakifukuzana. Bila kuchelewa, magari mawili ya polisi yalikamata Hidalgo na kuzunguka mpaka Moctezuma halafu yakasimama ghafla katikati ya Moctezuma na Gómez Farías – katikati ya magari mawili ya magaidi na gari la Vijana wa Tume. Wakati huohuo magari mengine (manne) ya polisi yakitokea Mtaa wa Vallarta nayo yakasimama nyuma ya magari ya magaidi; hivyo kufanya magari ya magaidi yawe katikati ya magari ya polisi, na polisi wakaisahau Ferrari ya Lisa.

escritura automática, cadáveres exquisitos, performances de una sola persona y sin espectadores, contraintes, escritura a dos manos, a tres manos, escritura masturbatoria (con la derecha escribimos, con la izquierda nos masturbamos, o al revés si eres zurdo), madrigales, poemas-novela, sonetos cuya última palabra siempre es la misma, mensajes de sólo tres palabras escritos en las paredes («No puedo más», «Laura, te amo», etc.), diarios desmesurados, mail-poetry, projective verse, poesía conversacional, antipoesía, poesía concreta brasileña (escrita en portugués de diccionario), poemas en prosa policíacos (se cuenta con extrema economía una historia policial, la última frase la dilucida o no), parábolas, fábulas, teatro del absurdo, pop-art, haikús, epigramas (en realidad imitaciones o variaciones de Catulo, casi todas de Moctezuma Rodríguez), poesía-desperada (baladas del Oeste), poesía georgiana, poesía de la experiencia, poesía beat, apócrifos de bp—Nichol, de John Giorno, de John Cage (A Yearfrom Monday), de Ted Berrigan, del hermano Antoninus, de Armand Schwerner (The Tablets), poesía letrista, caligramas, poesía eléctrica (Bulteau, Messagier), poesía sanguinaria (tres muertos como mínimo), poesía pornográfica (variantes heterosexual, homosexual y bisexual, independientemente de la inclinación particular del poeta), poemas apócrifos de los nadaístas colombianos, horazerianos del Perú, catalépticos de Uruguay, tzantzicos de Ecuador, caníbales brasileños, teatro Nó proletario...

Los extranjeros traían «venados» que los soportaban «tan alto como los techos». Por todas partes venían envueltos sus cuerpos, «solamente aparecen sus caras. Son blancas, son como si fueran de cal. Tienen el cabello amarillo, aunque algunos lo tienen negro. Larga su barba es ...»9. Moctezuma creyó que era el dios Quetzalcóatl quien volvía. Ocho presagios habían anunciado, poco antes, su retorno. Los cazadores le habían traído un ave que tenía en la cabeza una diadema redonda con la forma de un espejo, donde se reflejaba el cielo con el sol hacia el poniente. En ese espejo Moctezuma vio marchar sobre México los escuadrones de los guerreros. El dios Quetzalcóatl había venido por el este y por el este se había ido: era blanco y barbudo. También blanco y barbudo era Huiracocha, el dios bisexual de los incas.Y el oriente era la cuna de los antepasados heroicos de los mayas10.

Then, as they crossed over one of the largest bridges, Emperor Moctezuma appeared with his personal retinue. Cortés described the meeting in a letter to King Charles: We were received by Moctezuma with about two hundred chiefs, all barefooted and dressed in a kind of very rich livery. They approached in two processions along the walls of the street, which is very broad and straight and very beautiful. Montezuma came in the middle of the street with two lords, one on each side of him. . . . All were dressed in the same manner except that Montezuma was shod and the other lords were barefooted. As we approached each other I descended from my horse and was about to embrace him, but the two lords in attendance intervened so that I should not touch him, and then they, and he also, made the ceremony of kissing the ground. Having done this, he ordered his brother to take me by the arm, and the other attendant walked a little ahead of us. After he spoke to me, all the other lords who formed the two processions saluted me one after the other and then returned to the procession. As I approached to speak to Montezuma, I took off a collar of pearls and glass diamonds that I wore and put it on his neck. After we had gone through some of the streets, one of his servants came with two collars which were made of colored shells. From each of the collars hung eight golden shrimps executed with great perfection and a span long. He took the collars from the servant and put them on my neck, and we continued on through the streets until we came to a large and handsome house, which he had prepared for our reception.

there was yet another reason for Moctezuma’s apparent confusion. It was because of the legend of the Aztecs’ great god Quetzalcoatl, who was supposed to return one day to revisit his people. Quetzalcoatl, according to legend, was a hero who had been the human leader of the ancient Toltecs as well as an immortal deity. He was fair and bearded, and he taught his obedient people many things - how to plant, how to work metal, and how to construct beautiful buildings. But Quetzalcoatl was driven out by a rival, a king and deity named Tezcatlipoca. And after a long period of wandering, Quetzalcoatl disappeared across the eastern sea, promising to return in the year ce acatl (one reed) - which in the Aztec calendar is the name of a certain year that recurs every fifty-two years.

Cortés had allies in Tlaxcala who were prepared to stand by him in need. For twenty-two days, the captain general and his men rested and recovered from their wounds. During this period, Moctezuma’s successor died of smallpox, and Cuauhtémoc, a young man of about twenty-five and Moctezuma’s nephew, ascended the Aztec throne.

Tampoco los españoles mataron a Moctezuma, sino que lo hicieron sus propias gentes. Es más, Hernán Cortés y él llegaron a ser grandes amigos y a apreciarse sinceramente. Y en las guerras que se sucedieron a su muerte, crueldades las cometieron todos y no siempre las mayores fueron obra de los españoles. A este respecto, se «ignora» la llamada «Noche Triste» o se «olvida» que recientes excavaciones llevadas a cabo en Tecoaque —que significa literalmente «lugar donde se los comieron» (antigua Zultépec)—, a 50 kilómetros al este de Ciudad de México, han demostrado que entre junio de 1520 y marzo de 1521 los mexicas apresaron una caravana que Cortés había dejado en retaguardia con heridos, enfermos, mujeres (españolas y mulatas) y niños que les acompañaban, junto a trescientos aliados tlaxcaltecas. Todos ellos fueron asesinados y sacrificados a los dioses, junto a los animales europeos que formaban parte de la caravana, siendo exhibidos los cráneos como trofeo ante el templo principal (cfr. Itinerario de Hernán Cortés, 2014, pp. 60-61). Nadie osaría hoy en España echar en cara o pedir responsabilidades por tales hechos a los habitantes actuales de México. Lo contrario, no está tan claro.

Sometimes I avoid going to the end of a book, to see with my own eyes its last page. That is my way, my only way, to give a story an instant of eternity. / A veces evito llegar hasta el final de los libros, de ver con mis propios ojos su última hoja. Esa es mi forma, mi única manera, de darle a una historia un instante de eternidad.

In school, it was not the story of Eve and the serpent that captured her imagination, but the story of la serpiente emplumada, Quetzalcoatl, a deity for whom Cortés believed he was mistaken. She always hated that myth, which made Moctezuma out to be gullible and superstitious, deserving of his tragic fate, as Eve deserved her banishment from Eden. She could not conceive what it must have been like for the conquistadors, to believe that wherever you went, you were a god.

Food became one of the primary tests the Spaniards and the Aztecs used on each other to determine if the other side was amigo or foe. Moctezuma

En mi opinión, a ningún hombre se le ha sometido a una humillación mayor que a Moctezuma; ninguna raza ha sido exterminada más despiadadamente que la del indio americano; ninguna tierra ha sido violada de modo execrable e infame como lo fue California por los buscadores de oro. Siento vergüenza al pensar en nuestros orígenes: nuestras manos están empapadas de sangre y crimen.

Th soul! Ah, and did she not too have her savage and traitorous Tlaxcalans, her Cortés and her noches tristes, and, sitting within her innermost citadel in chains, drinking chocolate, her pale Moctezuma?

I love this room, said Moctezuma, you can't imagine how I miss being a priest. Where there were splotches of blood, he saw sprays of flowers. The withered fingers of the hands of great warriors sacrificed during the year's festivals swayed pleasingly like the branches of a small tree to the beat of some music he couldn't place, though in a possible future we would have recognized it. It was T. Rex's "Monolith." The priest was also up to his ears in whatever he had taken to carry out his temple duties, so he bent his magic powers of hearing to the music and caught the sexy crooning of Marc Bolan. He smiled. That's good stuff, he said. Moctezuma swung his hips to the beat. It's nothing I've ever heard before, he replied, but I like it. He pulled his elbows in tight and shimmied, moving his head gravely from side to side, transfixed by pleasure. The priest, swaying his own ass to the beat—he was nearly eighty, but on mushrooms he was a jaguar-said, I was thinking about you, believe it or not; look at this.