who died yesterday, Achilles Fabregat, Uruguay accordingly, was the number three in the journal Humor. Cascioli, Tomás Fabregat Sanz and Achilles, Fabre. It was the poet of the group, dark leg, pulled a diamond out there anywhere and full of fluff up. Thing to know to search. If you are going to be making silly rhymes, you must read to Achilles, not gaffes ever, a type prepared and funny. But I much I can not say that smoked a lot, ok, but better to let his nephew, journalist Eduardo Fabregat, talk about his uncle Achilles as fairly as I wanted to do. Uncle Achilles
By Eduardo Fabregat
Since that infamous night, Eustace
tell the Offset.
I know thousands and thousands of people who considered a so little light between darkness: since 1978, since that first cap with Menotti de Hoz, stating that "World is whatever it takes", the humor was religion, code sharing, ceremony at the newsstand and secret wink in public transport where all very well cared for "darling read it" because, as warned the heads of its pages, it caused untold evils. But this intellectual pride, that pride semi-none of that wording could be very public in the era of the murderers in uniform, was accompanied by a private pride, family: one of the leading newspaper that milestone, that respite from the lead, Achilles was Fabregat. My uncle Achilles.
Born in the Eastern Republic of Uruguay on February 15, 1938, my uncle Achilles died yesterday morning.
is a strange, painful instance. One drink is awful, this writing the obituary of someone so close, that has so much to do and so, well, So one is writing in a journal. The pen of my uncle Achilles inspired me to sit in front of a typewriter, the Olivetti and I still may end up taking me to my own grave. The figure of Achilles, a journalist of the old school, reinvented forms at a time when nothing was reinvented but destroyed, crystallized this vocation, this need for tanning trade. And that person's registration had an extra satisfaction yesterday when the messages began to appear on Facebook and Twitter, words that are as present as if the humor had not stifled menemato almost twenty years. People delivering messages of appreciation, love, sadness and loss and happiness for all time to read with your signature below, by the boxes in tandem with Tabaré, for those mornings radio Fasting and Carlos Jorge Guinzburg Abrevaya .
This page is not because Achilles was my uncle. This page is he who died is one of the great figures of journalism River Plate, the traces left by indelible.
a few inches, incurable music lover, collector of vinyl that tended to the obsession with an intuitive control to the "message" through its advertising experience in Montevideo, with a tremendous capacity to absorb culture, but do not express that knowledge with disdain for the other Achilles fired from his desk in the street Piedras articles that extraordinary irony, play with the language of each text were an adventure, a pleasure always renewed. Meticulously kept books and predictions of alleged seers, oracles and soothsayers, to be a poisonous feast every January or February for reviewing the coven dupes of the previous year. Deschavaba on the trail of the pirates to Buenos Aires infected bolichones that pierced the stomach and the consumer's pocket. Contributed to the collection of the list that always aroused the insufferable new contributions from the readers. And his Olivetti out one of the most effective humor pieces, in which the situation was repeated with slight variations, but it was his language, staging, what became one of the most anticipated tickets of Humor: the Ballads of the tube, the saga of unsuspecting citizens and carefully groomed appearance verba, which ventured into the byways of the suburbs to end always in the hands of those niggers "of two meters similar height and circumference, filthy, with tufts of hair picking his loons like the wire, red eyes and a "BERP!" as laconic reply. Some years later came the version illustrated by Tabaré, but these thirty lines of pure text amounted to break out laughing.
Achilles Achilles Uncle had the dictionary as a bedside book and knew how to make full use of it. No canchera learned the words to, but because for him writing should be a measure of wealth for which they wrote and to read. With such lexical availability, settle for just a handful of terms was Berreta, lazy poor. The words were his treasure, he allowed an artistic juggling with language, an always smart to get into the issue it was. Amen to give material to that in Humor & Games or Crusades, shine as eminent crossword puzzles, provoking laughter again enigmatic definitions or delusional, or squeezing the brain with that Dificilongo with which, as in newspaper articles, required to reader. Reminding that mediocrity is the easiest but not the best thing, which, as so often-cited human intelligence has limits, but stupidity is not.
I live less but more, he once wrote.
From my first articles published, I heard the phrase "What you're Achilles?" Hundreds of times. And never was a nuisance, but the reminder and proud to have as a starter in journalism to an illustrious name, someone who did something indelible in an environment where there have been many things.
In this and in other newsrooms, that thing naturally led to the shortened form that peers often call me Fabre. I always thought it was a nickname given reasonable but because there is only one Fabre. But somehow, from now on every time you hear a "Fabre" Uncle Achilles is a little more alive. This interpretation is not necessary, clear: everything he did, the countless laughter of the tube, the Nothing is lost, the chief rhymes SexHumor Paja Brava, inventiveness and audacity that brought into play to be part of that staff that made him legendary stamina to dictatorship, his name enough to have a presence that can dilute or death.
Goodbye, Uncle Achilles. And thanks for everything.
