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March 28 A riesgo de ser tíldado de cursiEsta es,a mi modesto juicio, una de las más hermosas y potentes canciones de amor de todos los tiempos, y ahora que la tengo, simplemente no puedo dejar de escucharla. Margarita (Ricardo Cocciante)
Yo no puedo estar parado, con las manos tan vacías tantas cosas debo hacer, antes que venga el alba y si ella está durmiendo, yo no puedo descansar haré de forma que al despertar, no me pueda ya olvidar Y para que esta larga noche ya no sea más oscura Y para hacerle cantar la canción que aprendió Y corramos por las calles y bailemos con la gente Recojamos muchas flores que nos dió la primavera Porque Margarita es dulce, porque Margarita vive, Porque Margarita es todo y ella es mi locura Needle in the Hay
A man on tennis clothe is in front of a mirror when the song start. Richie Tenenbaum (Luke Wilson) is cutting his hair and the beard. His eyes and face are full of pain and disappointment. He want to change or dissapear. Suddenly he watch himself on the mirror and say “I’m going to kill myself tomorrow”, then two arms are bleeding in a dirty bathroom sink and Richie fall down while the guitar still play.
That’s maybe one of the best scenes of “The Royal Tenenbaums” movie, from Wes Anderson (yes, I know I talk about his movies a lot). The composition of all is excellent, but one of the best things about Anderson’s movies are the soundtrack. The song chosen for that part was very worrying, and I wanted to get that song and know more about the singer.
The song “Needle in the Hay” was from an american musician called Elliot Smith. By means of that song I started to know him, but a little bit later, because he died some years ago (2003), two years after the premiere of the movie. Officially he committed suicide. That’s the most remarkable paradox in that story, because Anderson used that dark song to create the perfect atmosphere for a suicide attempt. Unfortunately the circumstances about his death are not totally clear. Smith had a lot of problems about drugs abuse and depression during his life, but some facts suggest that maybe he could have been killed by his own girlfriend.
Smith had a close relationship with movies, because he gave some of his music for some films like “Good Will Hunting” and American Beauty. Even, he was nominated for best song by Academy Award in 1998 for his song “Miss Misery” (saddly that year won Celine Dion... saddly)
Some people like Elliot Smith had very short and intense lives, with a lot of sorrow and pain. That evolved in some creative way to show us some little parts about that side of life. Because of that I want to share that new gift with all the people who can value it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elliott_Smith
March 20 About nothingThe first thing in my mind when I see a white page is to think about the different ways. To have a single and clear idea and start to develop that, or just let my fingers dance in the keyboard (second is easy if you are listening some music at the same time).
Now I'm listening and dancing. I don't have any idea how to finish that... the story of my life.
Maybe I can write something about chilean policy, but this can be very boring (even if you are chilean). Maybe I can write something about international policy, but I don't want to be so arrogant to do that... come on! a poor sudaka talking about so far away problems, very snob, the perfect talk with some friends drinking wine.
Maybe I have to write about how hard is to try to write in another language, but I talk very often about that with my foreigners friends, all in some kind of cage made it of words.
So... what about I have to write? some people will think "you have to write? you HAVE?" Why I write?
Some people have different way to express themselves. I don't want to express myself being a terrorist, asking for the eyes of the world killing people. I don't have enough talent to be a writer, poet, musician, actor... etc.
I don't want to wait for the next beer to start to talk about something interesting only for me. Because of that I write, and I have to warning you, I have a keyboard and I will use. Be prepared.
March 15 Crónicas SudakasTry to imagine you are living near the center of your city, very close but not in the center, maybe in some part with nothing interesting, a little bit poor, but not so. Now you are a little exotic, be case you were part of another town, maybe you were part of 2 different towns. Now you belong to another, but you have the past in your soul, because the past is part of your roots.
Now, the rest of the people, the people who live in the most important part of the city will consider you as a member of the community, but at the the same time... not.
Some people will have strange ideas about your costumes, and will put you together with all the strange and exotic people from everywhere. You will eat dogs, monkeys, snakes. You will have more brown, black, white aspects. Your house will be the same house near you.
Imagine you have to speak a strange language to be able to talk with people. Even, you have to write in that language. And then, you feel like an idiot trying to say something intelligent, but you can't. So, a lot of people will start to thing you and your family are idiots.
Then somebody will think your house need some rules, even a new goverment because in your home all are very stupids, ignorants, inmatures for rule yourself.
Of course, you will try to live in another part, but the fact is, never you'll be part of nothing. You will never feel part of nothing because you are made of parts of everything, some kind of cultural Frankenstein, belonging and not. Near and faraway.
Wellcome to Southamerica. Wellcome to Chile... Mamitas! March 11 Puntapié inicialNada, que ahora creo que es tiempo de acabar con los pendientes, y uno de ellos era comenzar esto. Entre lo torpe que soy para escribir y la lata posterior que me produce el revisar mis errores (que penca debe ser la pega del corrector), había puesto en algún oscuro rincón del alma o del cerebro (elija según su creencia... o la falta de ella) la necesidad de "empelotarme" virtualmente de nuevo.
Alguna vez atrás, en la prehistoria de mi exibicionismo computacional, mantuve un blog que me produjo más de una satisfacción, modesta satisfacción. Hoy el deafío es tratar de llevar ese problema siquiátrico a nuevos niveles de estupidez y autoreferencia, porque claro, a nadie más le importa mi jodida, y a veces podridamente fome existencia salvo a mi y a mis valientes contactos, que no son muchos tampoco (a veces ni yo me aguanto).
Una de las cosas a las que le estuve dando vueltas era la posibilidad de hacer de este espacio uno bilingüe... las guevadas que se me pasan por la cabeza! con qué ropa? si nadié sabe hablar sumerio hoy en día! Asi que, encadenado a mis escuálidos balbuceos en la lengua de Shakespeare, y más bien pareciendo cantante de reggaeton (you know mamita, I'm your papi tonight), trataré de involucrarme de vez en cuando en la posibilidad de hacer de esto algo entendible para el resto del mundo, cause we are the world, we are the children...
Eso sería, bienvenidos. podrán encontrar mascaras y audífones, fell free to use. |
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