I will
probably never run with the bulls in Pamplona. I'm too old, and my knees
and ankles tend to give out when I run. I'm more of hiker, “a
mountain goat” as my wife puts it.
This
being the 21st century, I'm a virtual bull runner. The
Information Age has made bullfighting a global activity, and the
FIesta de San Fermín hasn't had such a boost since the publication
of Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises.
I can go online and wallow in interweb coverage.
And
I have in years past. Here are links to my San Fermín blogging:
I'll be
writing more on the subject, too, but this year is going to be
different: I'm doing research for my bullfighting novel. There's
going to be a San Fermín sequence – maybe more than one.
Just as
Las Vegas has developed far beyond Hunter S. Thompson's wildest
hallucinations, San Fermín has now made what Hemingway shocked the
world with look like a quiet tea party. Straight reportage of it
comes off like far-out dystopian satire.
If you
don't believe it, check out SanFermin.com, for multimedia coverage
of not just the runs, but all the other craziness – for those of
you who prefer to “watch the real
beasts perform,” as Thompson said about the Kentucky Derby.
Those
of you who prefer more artistic and reverent coverage can go to SanFerminEncerrio.com.
And the
bullfights can be seen on Ferias Taurinas Online.
It'll be
weird. I will be inspired.
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