DENUNCIA A LA FISCALÍA CONTRA DON ROGELIO TORRENTE

Hace algún tiempo publiqué en otro sitio  un artículo llamado CONSIDERACIONES  SOBRE EL SUELDO DE PUIGDEMONT. En él exponía  mi parecer de que, con arreglo al reglamento del Parlamento de Cataluña, el interesado no debería estar percibiendo importe alguno, y anunciaba que si algún día tenía tiempo y ganas, quizá formulase denuncia ante la Fiscalía. Eso es justo lo que acabo de hacer.

Cualquier ciudadano puede dirigirse al Fiscal para poner en su conocimiento determinados hechos y pedirle que los investigue.  Hacer eso no es formalmente lo mismo que dirigir acusación contra persona determinada. Se trata sólo de averiguar qué ha pasado o está pasando.

Personalmente, tengo mi propia opinión sobre el procés (perdón, no sé si lo he escrito bien). Con extraordinarios respeto a quienes se quieren ir, preferiría que se quedasen y esto no deja de ser una opción personal tan legítima como la contraria.

Durante muchos años profesé una fe en la justicia que la práctica de mi profesión de abogado me ha obligado a dejar atrás . No obstante, incluso así no soporto ni la sumisión ni la pasividad. Antes, cuando un periodista, después de una larga entrevista,  me preguntaba si quería añadir alguna cosa más, siempre contestaba que los derechos ciudadanos hay que ejercerlos o de lo contrario se pudren. Algo parecido  es lo que reintentado hacer.

La denuncia carece de todo contenido político. Estamos en campaña de la renta y por lo tanto pagando al Estado una parte de lo que hemos conseguido ganar con nuestro esfuerzo personal, nuestra disciplina, nuestras privaciones, nuestra falta de sueño y nuestro espíritu cívico.

La cuestión es que no me agrada que el dinero que de buen grado le doy al Estado para que construya carreteras y mantenga hospitales se dedique a pagar los sueldos de una serie de personas que con independencia de sus iniciativas políticas y sus actitudes ante el auto de procesamiento, no pueden o no deberían cobrarlos con arreglo a la norma de aplicación, que viene a ser el reglamento del Parlamento de Cataluña.

Mi confianza en el buen fin de la iniciativa es más que modesta. He tenido dos experiencias de este tipo. Una fue la denuncia contra un cabo primero de la Guardia Civil por un asunto de drogas. Otra, para que se investigasen los sabotajes de geoingenieria llamados popularmente chemtrails. A las dos se las llevó el diablo. En la presente ocasión, el realismo me lleva a reconocer que la Fiscalía depende del Gobierno, y el Gobierno es el que es.

Soy muy, muy consciente de la legión de nuevos enemigos que esta iniciativa me va a proporcionar y con gusto lo acepto porque en los críticos momentos que vivimos ningún ciudadano debería permanecer indiferente.  Opino (aunque puedo estar equivocado) que hay que maldecir menos en el bar y procurar hacer cosas que construyan.

En todo caso, el arte de procurarme más y más enemigos, siempre por no doblegarme, no tiene secretos para mí. Poseo una experiencia dilatada.

 

denuncia rogelio fiscalia limpio

………..

El Sr. Puigdemont y el resto de los fugados que ostentan el carácter de diputados autonómicos, según esto, no tendrían derecho a percibir indemnización por el ejercicio de sus funciones, pues no realizan ninguna. Es decir, que  no debería ninguno de ellos  cobrar un sueldo como diputado autonómico.
 El artículo 23 del mismo reglamento dice que:
1. El diputado proclamado electo accede al pleno ejercicio de la condición de parlamentario una vez cumplidos los dos requisitos siguientes: 
a) Presentar al Registro General del Parlamento la credencial expedida por el órgano correspondiente de la Administración electoral y prometer o jurar respetar la Constitución española y el Estatuto de autonomía de Cataluña
b) Presentar las declaraciones de actividades y de bienes que especifica el artículo 19. 
2. Los derechos del diputado proclamado electo no son efectivos hasta que no ha accedido al pleno ejercicio de la condición de parlamentario, de conformidad con el apartado 1.
Ni el Sr. Puigdemont ni ningún otro de los diputados autonómicos fugados  han accedido al pleno ejercicio de sus funciones de diputados al no haber cumplido los requisitos que se transcriben, y por lo tanto todos ellos carecen de “los derechos del diputado proclamado electo”, en este caso los económicos.
En el caso de que los interesados estén  percibiendo o retribución del Parlamento de Cataluña,  su Presidente podría estar incurriendo con ello en un delito continuado  de malversación de caudales públicos previsto y penado en el artículo 432 del Código Penal.
En su virtud,
SOLICITO A LA FISCALÍA: Que, teniendo por formulada la presente denuncia, la admita y traslade al órgano del Ministerio Público competente por razón del territorio, a fin de que por el mismo se investiguen y comprueben los hechos con formulación, en su caso, de querella contra el Sr. Presidente del Parlamento de Cataluña. 
José Ortega
Abogado
Publicado en literatura | 10 comentarios

MI VIDA CON JOAQUIN BOJ

@abogadodelmar

Tenía que haber escrito este artículo mucho antes pero esa mezcla esterilizaste de ensimismamiento, lucha y cansancio ha dilatado hasta ahora el momento.

Yo no voy de nada ni me las doy de nada, o eso me parece. Sólo en momentos muy recientes he incurrido en la pretenciosidad de firmar mis artículos de la escuela de escritores como José Ortega, escritor.

He considerado que podía hacerlo después de nueve novelas, dos libros de antropología y varios artículos sobre la materia. Si comparásemos el mundo de las letras con la liga de fútbol, yo jugaría en Segunda Regional o algo peor, pero da igual. Ahí estoy.

Sin embargo, probablemente nunca habría podido firmar con el ostentoso apelativo de escritor de no haber mediado en un momento crucial de mi vida un sujeto llamado Joaquin Boj. (Que, dicho sea de paso, escribe como los ángeles).

La cosa es que mi primera novela , Gilgamesh y la muerte, intenté colarla en la Editora Regional de Murcia. Pero yo, aunque nacido en Cartagena ,vivía en Valencia y muy alejado de las redes de amistades y favores que se tejían en torno al mundo murciano de la cultura. Nadie sabía quién diablos era yo ni había oído hablar de mi.

La Editora pasó el manuscrito a informe de un experto cuya identidad nunca supe. Lo que sí supe es que el informe en cuestión no alentaba la publicación de la obra porque, incluso reconociendo sus valores, dudaba que ofreciera alguna aportación novedosa o valiosa. Ése debía haber sido, claro está, el fin de mis limpias ilusiones de adolescente.

Pero todo cambió con la intervención Joaquin Boj, periodista conocido en los ámbitos locales y a la sazón el mayor de todos mis muchos primos por parte de padre.

Joaquín movió los hilos para que se recabase un nuevo informe y lo consiguió. Lo que escribió sobre mi novela el catedrático de literatura Ramón Jiménez Madrid, que no me conocía de nada, bastó para que la Editora Regional cambiara de idea y la publicara. Y ya está.

Ésta es una historia breve pero aleccionadora, y el pago necesario de un tributo de gratitud que llega tarde pero al que creo que no se cargan intereses de demora.

Si Joaquin no hubiera hablado con quien tenía que hablar, yo no habría escrito el resto de las novelas que vinieron después y habría pasado el resto de mi vida cultivando el rencor contra el mundo y alentando el sentimiento tóxico de que la vida me debía algo.

Sin olvidar el agradecimiento a Ramón Jiménez Madrid, quien después de esa aventura me apoyó en otras, quiero pronunciar estas palabras:

Gracias, Joaquin Boj Ortega

José Ortega

http://www.costasmaritimas.es

Publicado en literatura | 3 comentarios

NAFURIA. ENTREVISTA EN CADENA COPE

@abogadodelmar

Publicado en literatura | 4 comentarios

NAFURIA. ENTREVISTA EN CV RADIO

@abogadodelmar

https://www.ivoox.com/puertas-abiertas-jose-ortega-presenta-su-libro-nafuria-audios-mp3_rf_26258033_1.html

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NAFURIA (THE ORIGIN OF GOD)

@abogadodelmar

Thebes, XVIII Dinasty. Pharaoh Amenofis IV (Akenaton) impulses a religious revolution in order to establish de cult of god Aton, characterized by love and goodness. According to the theory of Sigmund Freud, what the book of Exodus relates is just what happened after the Pharaoh´s death and the end of Aton´s cult, when the jews who were working inside Egypt as slaves decided to seek a new land to implement the religion of love. That means that the God of the Ancient Testament was born in the mind of Akenaton. Nafuria is the name given to Amenofis when he was  young, and the novel is the story of these events.

Translated into English by Ana Anstead

Link to Kindle edition in Amazon  (click on the image):

Captura de pantalla 2018-05-19 a las 20.10.10

Link to paperback edition in Amazon (click on the image):

nafuria paperback

……………………………….

INTRODUCTION

When I was reading Archeology and Eastern and Greek History at the University of Murcia, in Spain, my Professor of Prehistory, Ana María Muñoz Amilibia, explained the singular theory by Sigmund Freud that what the book of Exodus in the Bible is actually saying is what happened after the religious reform of Amenhotep IV had collapsed. The worshippers of the god Aton, who had no physical body, was not a tribal or national god like the other gods and who promoted love and fraternity, decided to go into exile to look for a new land in which to be able to worship him. It is not surprising that most of those followers were the many Jews who then lived in Egypt as slaves or were relegated to the hardest jobs. They were the main beneficiaries of the new god’s conciliatory messages. Freud explained his theory in three essays written in 1934.

I conceived the idea of writing a novel about this totally and absolutely singular episode of History as soon as I had finished my first book, “Gilgamesh And Death”, a recreation on the search for immortality described in the Sumerian myth of Gilgamesh. But, at twenty-five, I did not dare confront the immense task of research and documentation necessary to take on such initiative with dignity. It was a good idea for a book but I found it hard to get the story out easily at the time, so I let it be.

Some people say that no one should write a book before the age of thirty, simply because of the lack of life baggage of all kinds. I think it’s true, even when I wrote two before reaching that age. In the case of “Nafuria” I had a few more years to live yet in order to gain the vital experiences accumulated in that time before I actually felt the need to write this story.  As it is my usual, “Nafuria” is a mix of fiction and real facts, but as I often find, the facts I recount  are  touched by a sort of magic which makes them also seems fiction.

The facts taking place in Egypt during the XVIII Dynasty, already contain all the correct characteristics of a great story. So much so that, surprising as it may seem,  it is hard to believe that  no writer had up to now turned it into a novel. Pharaoh Amenhotep III was a sexually obsessive man who had so many women in his harem, including some of his own daughters,  that he lost track of them all. Yet, he also had to take as wife the fourteen year-old of singular beauty Nefertiti, when he was over forty himself, and a sick old man, as life expectation in those days was lower than now.  Upon his death his son Amenhotep IV married the very young widow, but soon after he began to show symptoms of a degenerative neurological disease. The young pharaoh had conceived the idea of a new and only god of love and peace bearing no relation with the traditional gods of Egypt. He then had the unusual initiative to build an entirely new city from scratch in the middle of the desert.  All these are already enough factors to make a good story.

But in this work, as in “Gilgamesh And Death”, I wanted to introduce, along with those historical facts, parallel and complementary elements from the fields of spirituality and ancient magic. I think it is essential that I make special mention of one of the characters in the story completely made up by myself:

My friend Manolo Conesa, a great connoisseur of Philosophy and an excellent conversationalist, spent a few years in Cyprus where he met a holy Sufi master named Mawlana. He was so fascinated by his teachings that he converted to Islam and changed his name to Yusuf. Shortly after, he asked me, as a lawyer, to defend a group of housing tenants in the regional park of Calblanque, in Cartagena, Spain, who were being threatened with collective evictions. Without going into details, this, to me, was the same old story of the weak being oppressed by the powerful, which is for me a constant battle in the exercise of the profession. Another person coordinated these neighbours into one group and he was another young Sufi named Guillermo, whose Arab name is Sayfuddin.

I remember with particular pleasure an afternoon in which the three of us had an extensive conversation about spirituality and the Sufi saints whilst chatting in a bar in Cartagena called El Coyote. Manolo referred to the episode that happened a few years before in Chile, when some miners had been trapped in the bottom of a mine and feared for their survival because  oxygen was running out. Manolo said that suddenly, at the bottom of the pit, the miners saw Mawlana and then they began to breathe air so clean that the one later sent in with a probe seemed poor and rarefied. It is true that this does not fit with Cartesian logic or any other, because Mawlana had not moved from Cyprus. However, the reasonable doubts that may arise as a result of such incredible event will be quickly cleared away if the skeptics search on Google “Mawlana miners of Chile” to verify that after the episode, the miners  traveled to visit the teacher in his island and many of them converted to Islam.

One morning I was in Cartagena preparing a for new court case for eviction that I had to attend at one o’clock in the afternoon. Studying the case in detail, I suddenly realised that my approach to answering the demand had been somewhat lazy and, as they say, I saw it  all black and started to sweat, convinced that the oral hearing  would be a failure. So I told  Guillermo through a WhatsApp message. But within the hour my mind suddenly cleared with a bright idea that allowed me to present the case before the judge with better arguments, which changed everything and the outcome of the case was a success. It was something I had had right in front of my eyes and even then I had not  seen. It was as if someone had removed a veil from my eyes.
After the trial I went to Calblanque to chat with Guillermo. What Diana, his wife, then told me, left me very surprised. Since he works shifts and works all night, he therefore sleeps in the morning, and so it was her who had seen my message. Then she got in touch with Mawlana and he reassured her by telling her not to worry and that everything would be fine. No one can ever take my mind off the conviction that my sudden inspiration was promoted by the master through some spiritual channel unknown to me.
In order to contact Mawlana, Diana had not used a mobile phone, or a landline, or Skype. She transmitted her concern just with her mind. This is already quite impressive, but it becomes magical if I add  that by that time Mawlana had been dead for about two years.

The teacher was also talking to Manolo. Once he told him that it was very easy for me to help against the evictions because I seemed to him to be “docile” (an adjective that I do not normally identify with). After that, and as singular as it may seem, impressions, analysis and advice on how to take the defence continue to come from him. As you can imagine, I feel privileged. Not all lawyers can boast of a team including such a character.
In this novel also appears a very wise old spiritual master. At first I thought of describing him as a Gentile, a very old man who appears in a popular narrative of the Basque Country collected by the great José Manuel de Barandiarán. The story tells he was so old that he lacked the strength to open his eyelids, so they had to help him with sticks. But after the experiences that I have mentioned, I considered it more appropriate to give him not only the physical characteristics of Mawlana himself, but also his name. First, I consulted him through Manolo. He said yes.

Being the Mawlana of my novel the same as the real one, I thought it appropriate to include an episode in the mines of Sinai like the story of the miners trapped in Chile, and that is why my story throbs with magic and with life.

Whenever I hear an author say that his novel has written itself and that he did not know what was going to happen on the next page, I have always found it very pedantic. But, astonishingly, this has been my experience whilst writing “Nafuria”. As I said, the story wanted to be written, but it really built itself,  leaving me no other role than that of  a secretary in charge of taking the minutes.

I have also done quite a bit of cinema. And although I conceived this story as a great spiritual adventure, spiritual facts can not appear on the camera. And so the end result is a great adventure story with a considerably dense spiritual background and some very emotionally charged passages (which I unconsciously call sequences). These passages have come to me as did the rest of the story, of their own accord, and the story played in front of my very eyes like a film, with unexpected cinematographic traits. The star sequence, at the gates of the royal palace of Babylon, is shot at two thirds of the footage and I have seen it again and again projected in my mind as I would see it on the screen of a cinema. When I wrote it, I was unable to hold back tears, and the same thing happened to me with the first and the second review. Such is its intensity. But history does not overflow with this kind of situations appropriate to be watched from a seat at the cinema. It’s not something I intended. It just happened.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I gladly pay tribute to the authors whose work has nourished me to write this story. In Robert Schwartz’s The Plan of Your Soul, I found very valuable revelations about the cycle of reincarnations, particularly the surprising notion that everything that happens in our lives, including accidents and misfortunes, is decided by our own soul before birth, and also the notion that time is not a straight line but a spider’s web, so everything is happening at the same time.
From The Power of Now, written by Eckhart Tolle, I took advantage of the idea that if we stop resisting what the present moment brings to us, whatever that may be, life is on our side and it begins to work for us.
I could not have written this novel without the beautiful work of Philip Vandenberg, Nefertiti, an archaeological biography, which contains a full and interesting account of the events.

I finally  thank my sister Ana for the time she has sacrificed instead of spending it on other  pleasant tasks for her, such as painting, to translate my manuscript into English.

……………………………

Tears roll down my cheeks, but not because of fear or rage, but because my next death is caused only by the love and compassion I have wished to deploy onto all creatures, by my displeasure against abuse and injustice and by my eagerness to close the gap between rich and poor, between free men and slaves and between natives of Kemi and foreigners.
Death comes and I do not have a single friend by my side. No one to accompany or to comfort me, as defending me against  this horde of fanatics would be an impossibility.
My final goodbye does not cause me fear. However, murderers’ blind hatred does disturb me, hurts me and shakes every fibre of my being like a storm.
I know there is still a way to outwit fate. My bedroom has a back exit so I could escape, but I will not. I do not wish to flee from death, but to embrace it.
The door is about to give way under the ax blows.  I finally see its sharp edge peeling through splinters, and every blow sinks forever deeper into my heart. Each beat is like a small death, because what kills me is not the sword, nor the ax but hate, so that before I receive the blow I am already dead.
I will not ask for mercy, I will not retreat nor show the terror that they expect to see. On the contrary, I will defiantly open my  tunic inviting the assassins to do what they have come to do, whilst forgiving them and blessing them. No matter what happens, everything is well and is as it should be.
But above all I am serene because I learned that this horrible way to end my days is not the result of chance, or injustice, it is not even the consequence of my actions. It is rather the decision that I, myself, my own soul, had already taken before being born.
I die today, but the seed is sown. My work lives, will grow and will change the face of the earth.

This is my story.

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NAFURIA (OBSERVANDO Y ESCUCHANDO)

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Publicado en literatura | 2 comentarios

NAFURIA. PRESENTACIÓN EN JUMILLA

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Publicado en literatura | 2 comentarios