ElGuero

Jeremiah Lopez (CoT OtB)
Barcelona, Spain

Member Since: Jan 24, 2008
Last Login: May 11, 2009
Profile Views: 4198
Points: 990
Status:   Dead computer.. be back eventually (4 months ago)

Birthday: Jun 19, 1987

Occupation: Interpreter/Student/Musician

About Me:
I'm half Irish, half Mexican, born in Mexico, lived in Ireland, Mexico, and Puerto Rico, and Ohio. Now I live in Barcelona, Spain. They call me "El Güero" ("Whiteboy") because a guy with light skin and blue eyes is somewhat of a rarity in Mexico and Puerto Rico. The Wu-Tang Clan got me into chess. I love nearly every form of music. I've been playing guitar for 10 years, bass for 6, and drums for 4. I've been singing pretty much since I could talk. I speak Spanish, English, Irish Gaelic, French, German, and a bit of Icelandic. Let's chat. As white, my favorite openings are the Queen's Gambit and the Catalan. As black, I like the Semi-Slav, Sicilian Najdorf, Sicilian Dragon, Nimzo-Indian, and King's Indian. My style: Swift and efficient. I'm always looking to trick you, to sneak in behind your back and capture your king. I strive to be an assassin of the 64 squares. Favorite players: Kasparov, Tal, Carlsen, Waitzkin, RZA And now, a poem: "La guitarra" — Federico García Lorca Empieza el llanto de la guitarra. Se rompen las copas de la madrugada. Empieza el llanto de la guitarra. Es inútil callarla. Es imposible callarla. Llora monótona como llora el agua, como llora el viento sobre la nevada. Es imposible callarla. Llora por cosas lejanas. Arena del Sur caliente que pide camelias blancas. Llora flecha sin blanco, la tarde sin mañana, y el primer pájaro muerto sobre la rama. ¡Oh guitarra! Corazón malherido por cinco espadas. "The Guitar" — Federico García Lorca The crying of the guitar begins. The cups of the dawn are broken. The crying of the guitar begins. It is useless to silence it. It is impossible to silence it. It weeps, monotonous as the water cries, as the wind weeps in the snowstorm. It is impossible to silence it. It weeps for far-away things. Hot sand of the south that pleads for white camellias. It cries, arrow without a target, evening without a morning, and the first dead bird upon the branch. Oh, guitar! Heart badly wounded by five swords.

ElGuero's Recent ActivityViewsCommentsDate
Calling all Hip-Hop fans! 351 3 12/3/2008
Tattoo 297 10 11/1/2008
Loyalty 84 7 10/31/2008
Scribes 17 1 10/30/2008
Éirinn go brách! 318 6 5/21/2008
Blitz vs. Long 588 9 3/18/2008
Where did I go wrong? 579 9 2/20/2008
Center Counter 480 3 2/13/2008
Fun Game Against French Defense 623 10 2/13/2008
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