With mobiles and internet, protesters battle to keep world's eyes on Burma
David Jimenez in Rangoon
Saturday September 29, 2007
The Guardian
The last time Burmese soldiers fired on their own people there were few witnesses, and those who were there had no way of telling the story.
Two decades and a technological revolution later, the protesters challenging the government are ready to risk their lives so the world can hear their story. Armed with mobile phone cameras, they have become the eyes of the "saffron revolution".
No foreign TV crews have been able to enter the country and networks such as the BBC and CNN have been forced to report from neighbouring Thailand. From the point of view of television, the situation is the same as it was in 1988, when the massacre of nearly 3,000 people went unreported by most TV news programmes.
Today, the regime has calculated that it can again win the propaganda battle if it controls the traditional media. It is wrong. The military had forgotten about the internet and the mobile phone, two weapons with which the protesters have managed to grab the world's attention.
Kyaw, 23, a medical student, says he has sent various videos to the BBC and dissident groups based in Thailand, using the camera in his mobile phone and a very slow internet connection.
"It is risk," he says. "The soldiers arrest anyone who takes photos, destroy their phones and beat them up. But we have to show the world what is happening."
Meanwhile, more than 100,000 people have joined a group supporting the uprising on the popular social networking website Facebook. The group, which was started less than a week ago by the US Campaign for Burma, has already helped to organise a series of public demonstrations, vigils and hunger strikes around the world.
Yesterday, the junta finally reacted, closing down the country's principal internet server - one of the many businesses it controls. One official claimed the shutdown was the result of damage suffered by a major supply cable connecting to the internet.
Internet cafes in Rangoon have been closed and their owners threatened with reprisals.
A London-based Burmese blogger, Ko Htike, said the move meant he would not be able to feed in pictures of "the brutality by the brutal Burmese military junta", but vowed to continue pushing information back into the country.
The regime has tried to counter the impact of information smuggled out of the country with monotonous news broadcasts that nobody follows, and surreal official versions that describe the soldiers as victims.
One of the keys to the protesters' success at getting their message out has been the support of well-organised Burmese activists in exile. Videos and photographs received by the dissident groups have been automatically distributed to news agencies and television networks. Dozens of blogs written by students in Rangoon and Mandalay have given daily updates on the democracy movements with eyewitness testimonies.
But all that could be much more complicated now that the government has realised the damage the internet is causing. Without online access, protesters are forced to communicate with outsiders using telephones and text messages, although some telephone lines are also believed to have been cut off.
"I'm scared that if we stop sending photos and video the world will forget about us," says Lynn, who writes and sends low-resolution photos to dissident groups abroad.
The Burmese people know they need to keep international attention on them if they want to succeed. For days they have risked their lives to stand in for the hundreds of journalists banned from Burma by a government that has much to hide.
The world will continue to watch the army's repression, even if has to use methods from the last century. The question is whether this will influence the behaviour of the dictators who for decades have shown no interest in their image.
· David Jimenez is a correspondent for El Mundo
Saturday 29 September 2007
Thursday 27 September 2007
No hay injusticia que dure por siempre
La forma de actuar de la junta militar de Myanmar es extremadamente representativa del temor y la paranoia de los gobiernos intolerantes que sienten que su tiempo se agota. El budismo no es una religion, en el sentido en que comunmente se define; una serie de reglas inflexibles y una subordinacion a una entidad superior. El budismo en un sentido general confia en el camino interno como unica forma de encontrar la divinidad, hay formas pero ellas contribuyen a la armonia en la convivencia y a dar un marco y sentido a la practica. Los monjes budistas viven una vida frugal, dedicada a la meditacion y a la busqueda interna, existe gran respeto por el otro, ellos no se encuentran aislados, se interrelacionan con todo porque saben que a un nivel amplio todos estamos unidos, el karma en este sentido mas que un mandamiento o una ley es un principio universal y tiene un efecto en el todo. La frugalidad y el desapego son caracteristicas del budismo, no se busca tener pertenencias, no porque haya algo malo en ello sino porque su vida devota no necesita mucho mas que un tazon para sus alimentos (que muchas veces reciben del pueblo) y dos tunicas. Es decir, esos monjes budistas que se manifiestan por miles por las calles de la antigua Birmania, no tienen nada que perder. Su vida sencilla les da la claridad para ver que hay algo terriblemente podrido con la junta militar y salen a decirlo. A los tiranos eso los debe de poner inquietos. Este mar marron, esta ahi, gritando la verdad, sin violencia, con modestia, en las calles, de la unica forma posible. La respuesta de los militares abriendo fuego y entrando a los templos habla de una desesperacion y una ceguera, la violencia y la represion como unica forma para seguir en el poder y mintiendo. Un terrible precedente a estas protestas fue la matanza de 3,000 personas entre monjes, estudiantes y ciudadanos en 1988. El aumento en el precio a la gasolina, la miseria en que se encuentra sumida una nacion boyante hasta antes de la segunda guerra mundial, la terrible represion militar ha disparado el descontento. Ecuaciones que podemos ubicar en diversas regiones, Mexico incluido. Un solo cuerpo azafran apoyado por el pueblo, diciendo de frente que la impunidad se ha terminado. Que cobardes quienes reprimen a tantos tan valientes. Pero hay algo con lo que no cuentan; pueden matar, torturar o desaparecer los cuerpos pero no contener el espiritu de los libres porque sin el no hay vida posible para ninguno.
Wednesday 26 September 2007
Fetiches
Fragmentos de una sotana que perteneciera a Juan Pablo II junto con santini que son pequenias tarjetas con oraciones y una imagen estan siendo distribuidas por internet, a cambio se pide una contribucion aunque no se especifica el monto. Segun informan las autoridades del Vaticano comerciar con reliquias es un sacrilegio. Existe incluso una patrulla anti-reliquia (el grupo de Serafin que es una asociacion dispersa compuesta por 200 miembros distribuidos en distintas partes del globo y en que se incluyen desde un arzobispo ruso ortodoxo, hasta sacerdotes catolicos y miembros laicos) que vigila el trafico de reliquias en eBay. Las masas quieren poseer un pedazo de algo que prometa santidad, lo que sea, un calcetin que frotar para sentirse iluminado, un trozo de trapo que colgar en la pared junto a los trofeos. El fetichismo llega a niveles insospechados, como la mujer que traia colgado del cuello un pedazo de hueso que segun pertenecio a Rafael Guizar y Valencia, el regordete patrono de Xalapa. Entre algunas reliquias que se han sido ofertadas en linea se encuentran los huesos de San Esteban o una ala del Espiritu Santo. El Volkswagen Golf que pertenecio al antiguo Cardenal Ratzinger, ahora Papa Benedicto XVI, fue adquirido por un casino online por 190,000 euros, aunque no se sabe que haya hecho milagros como Herbie.
Tuesday 25 September 2007
One minute at a time
*Our Generation has had no Great war, no Great Depression. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.
*People used what they called a telephone because they hated being close together and they were scared of being alone.
*Reality means you live until you die. The real truth is nobody wants reality.
*Sometimes you do something, and you get screwed. Sometimes it's the things you don't do, and you get screwed.
*The answer is there is no answer.
*When did the future switch from being a promise to a threat?
Chuck Palahniuk
*People used what they called a telephone because they hated being close together and they were scared of being alone.
*Reality means you live until you die. The real truth is nobody wants reality.
*Sometimes you do something, and you get screwed. Sometimes it's the things you don't do, and you get screwed.
*The answer is there is no answer.
*When did the future switch from being a promise to a threat?
Chuck Palahniuk
Monday 24 September 2007
Cuadro de honor
Del artículo mencionado en el post anterior
Diez grandes cosas que la generación X ha dado al mundo
1 El iPod
2 El recomocimiento que Japón tiene el mejor gusto en música pop en el planeta
3 Moshing (Slam)
4 Owen Wilson
5 Urban Outfitters
6 Johnny Depp
7 Winona Ryder
8 Indie cinema
9 Café bien hecho
10 Topshop
Y diez no tanto
1 El uso inapropiado y excesivo de la palabra 'whatever' en el uso cotidiano
2 Courtney Love
3 El uso inapropiado y excesivo de la palabra 'like' en el uso cotidiano
4 Los cursos sobre medios y ciencias de la comunicación
5 Ethan Hawke
6 Las crisis de mediados de los veintes
7 Las barbas de candado
8 Body piercings
9 La confianza excesiva en la ironía
10 Los aficionados a teorias sobre conspiraciones
Diez grandes cosas que la generación X ha dado al mundo
1 El iPod
2 El recomocimiento que Japón tiene el mejor gusto en música pop en el planeta
3 Moshing (Slam)
4 Owen Wilson
5 Urban Outfitters
6 Johnny Depp
7 Winona Ryder
8 Indie cinema
9 Café bien hecho
10 Topshop
Y diez no tanto
1 El uso inapropiado y excesivo de la palabra 'whatever' en el uso cotidiano
2 Courtney Love
3 El uso inapropiado y excesivo de la palabra 'like' en el uso cotidiano
4 Los cursos sobre medios y ciencias de la comunicación
5 Ethan Hawke
6 Las crisis de mediados de los veintes
7 Las barbas de candado
8 Body piercings
9 La confianza excesiva en la ironía
10 Los aficionados a teorias sobre conspiraciones
La x marca la generación perdida
Extracto de una nota de Tom Cox, 31, del Sunday Times de Junio 4 del 2006.
Adaptado y traducido
Han sido quince años desde la publicación de Generación X de Douglas Coupland, la novela que encapsulaba el espíritu del disasociado y soñador grupo que siguió a los baby boomers. La cuestión sobre los lapsos de quince años es que tienden a ser periodos de tiempo suficientemente largos para procesar eras y tendencias culturales. Una década no lo es, pero una década y media casi lo logra. Una persona puede aparentemente no envejecer en 10 años pero difícilmente en 15. De la misma forma la personalidad de una década no puede ser clasificada y etiquetada hasta su final. Probablemente no entendimos por completo la frase "muy ochentero" hasta 1995, y los 60's no llegaron a su verdadero cierre hasta 1975. Siguiendo esta lógica, y tomando el año cero de la generación X como 1991 -el año del lanzamiento del Nevermind de Nirvana y de Slacker de Richard Linklater- ya deberíamos de saber lo que implica la generación X. Sin embargo resulta difícil definir que es lo que constituye a un integrante de la generación X, quizás mas complicado ahora que nunca. Algunos jugamos Pac-man, algunos otros tomamos éxtasis un poco tarde, algunos más usamos Doctor Marteens y camisas a cuadros. Algunos escucharon a Wham! y Duran Duran cuando niños (por supuesto mucho antes de tener una idea de ser un X) y a los Smashing Pumkins y a los Lemonheads cuando adolescentes. Cuando un X entra en contacto con adolescentes o veinteañeros de la generación Y facilmente puede quedar sorprendido por el aura de seguridad que despiden y el sentimiento de que el mundo esta ahí para cumplir todos sus caprichos.
Como puede un miembro de la generación X saber si lo es cuando ha sido definido indistintamente entre los nacidos entre; 1961 y 1972 ("Twentysomething" del artículo de la portada del Time Magazine de 1990), 1965 y 1977 (Managing Generation X de Bruce Tulgan Tulgone), 1968 y 1979 (de un estudio del Censo del 2000).
La verdad es que, quizás, estamos bastante felices en nuestra forma de vida sin reconocimiento, aplastados entre décadas. Opuesta a la preocupación de ser olvidados tenemos la callada confianza que viene de saber que somos la última generación que creció sin internet o teléfonos celulares y que tuvimos que adaptar nuestras vidas a ello (nada de las excusas de los boomers "no, yo ya estoy muy viejo para esas cosas"), la última generación en tener una verdadera noción de lo "underground", la última generación en desear la fama por saber hacer algo bien, en lugar de tan sólo saber hacer algo...
Adaptado y traducido
Han sido quince años desde la publicación de Generación X de Douglas Coupland, la novela que encapsulaba el espíritu del disasociado y soñador grupo que siguió a los baby boomers. La cuestión sobre los lapsos de quince años es que tienden a ser periodos de tiempo suficientemente largos para procesar eras y tendencias culturales. Una década no lo es, pero una década y media casi lo logra. Una persona puede aparentemente no envejecer en 10 años pero difícilmente en 15. De la misma forma la personalidad de una década no puede ser clasificada y etiquetada hasta su final. Probablemente no entendimos por completo la frase "muy ochentero" hasta 1995, y los 60's no llegaron a su verdadero cierre hasta 1975. Siguiendo esta lógica, y tomando el año cero de la generación X como 1991 -el año del lanzamiento del Nevermind de Nirvana y de Slacker de Richard Linklater- ya deberíamos de saber lo que implica la generación X. Sin embargo resulta difícil definir que es lo que constituye a un integrante de la generación X, quizás mas complicado ahora que nunca. Algunos jugamos Pac-man, algunos otros tomamos éxtasis un poco tarde, algunos más usamos Doctor Marteens y camisas a cuadros. Algunos escucharon a Wham! y Duran Duran cuando niños (por supuesto mucho antes de tener una idea de ser un X) y a los Smashing Pumkins y a los Lemonheads cuando adolescentes. Cuando un X entra en contacto con adolescentes o veinteañeros de la generación Y facilmente puede quedar sorprendido por el aura de seguridad que despiden y el sentimiento de que el mundo esta ahí para cumplir todos sus caprichos.
Como puede un miembro de la generación X saber si lo es cuando ha sido definido indistintamente entre los nacidos entre; 1961 y 1972 ("Twentysomething" del artículo de la portada del Time Magazine de 1990), 1965 y 1977 (Managing Generation X de Bruce Tulgan Tulgone), 1968 y 1979 (de un estudio del Censo del 2000).
La verdad es que, quizás, estamos bastante felices en nuestra forma de vida sin reconocimiento, aplastados entre décadas. Opuesta a la preocupación de ser olvidados tenemos la callada confianza que viene de saber que somos la última generación que creció sin internet o teléfonos celulares y que tuvimos que adaptar nuestras vidas a ello (nada de las excusas de los boomers "no, yo ya estoy muy viejo para esas cosas"), la última generación en tener una verdadera noción de lo "underground", la última generación en desear la fama por saber hacer algo bien, en lugar de tan sólo saber hacer algo...
Friday 21 September 2007
Cafe 2
Nunca he sido afecto al cafe instantaneo. Sin embargo, en la oficina no hay forma de hacer un cafe decente (o mejor dicho, indecente). Hay agua hervida todo el tiempo, para el te que la mayoria de los companeros toman. Me gusta el te, pero no puedo tomar mas de dos tazas seguidas. Me queda o levantarme media hora mas temprano y hacerlo en casa o tomar instantaneo. El cafe esta lleno de sutilezas, el molido, el tiempo de tostado, la altura de los cafetales, aun la vegetacion a su alrededor. El agua para hacer cafe se recomienda caliente pero nunca hirviendo, el calor excesivo produce que el cafe se queme y tome un sabor alterado.
Resignarme al cafe soluble me parece una forma personal de adaptacion, como usar celular y broad band, puedes hartarte y patalear pero menos desgaste proviene de no resistirlos tanto.
El cafe que ahora bebo que sabe a casi nada, es un placebo, un hermano de todo lo light que existe en el mundo, como lo bajo en colesterol, la leche 2%. Me recuerda a mucha gente en todas partes; descafeinados.
Resignarme al cafe soluble me parece una forma personal de adaptacion, como usar celular y broad band, puedes hartarte y patalear pero menos desgaste proviene de no resistirlos tanto.
El cafe que ahora bebo que sabe a casi nada, es un placebo, un hermano de todo lo light que existe en el mundo, como lo bajo en colesterol, la leche 2%. Me recuerda a mucha gente en todas partes; descafeinados.
Cafe 1
Me encanta el cafe. Por las manianas es la primera motivacion del dia para levantarme. En la misma linea de abrir los ojos, banarme, rasurarme para despertar del todo. El aroma tan misterioso como oscuro el color. Nada como un espresso al medio dia, despues se enfrentan los retos con valentia y coraje. Una cuidadosa seleccion de granos, un buen molido y el tostado exacto aseguran el mejor material.
Hace unos anios mi cuate catador Avelino me invito junto con otras personas a una finca en Xico para que experimentaramos la recoleccion del rojo fruto. La experiencia fue formidable, la manana era un poco nublada con un velo fino de lluvia, en un silencio reverencial cada uno cuidadosamente escogia los frutos mejores, los ya rojos como cerezas y sin defectos. Familias enteras se dedican a recolectar en los alrededores sobre todo Coatepec en donde reciben un peso por kilo, si, un peso por kilo. Nosotros que eramos como diez tan solo recogimos unos 5 kilos, es obvio que las familias por ganar unos pesos mas no ponen tanta atencion en la calidad de lo recolectado, llenando sus bolsas con frutos verdes o picados.
Nos mostraron el proceso y recuerdo la etapa de separacion de granos, en donde de extendian en algo parecido a una alberca y se vertia agua. Los frutos mejores quedaban al fondo y los defectuosos flotaban. Asumimos todos que los granos flotantes eran desechados a lo que Avelino punzante declaro: no, esos que flotan son los que se usan para el consumo interno, del que se hace cafe instantaneo y el del fondo es el que se exporta. Brasil exporta el excedente de su produccion, el mejor cafe se queda en el pais. Aun el Nescafe brasilenio es muy bueno.
Hace unos anios mi cuate catador Avelino me invito junto con otras personas a una finca en Xico para que experimentaramos la recoleccion del rojo fruto. La experiencia fue formidable, la manana era un poco nublada con un velo fino de lluvia, en un silencio reverencial cada uno cuidadosamente escogia los frutos mejores, los ya rojos como cerezas y sin defectos. Familias enteras se dedican a recolectar en los alrededores sobre todo Coatepec en donde reciben un peso por kilo, si, un peso por kilo. Nosotros que eramos como diez tan solo recogimos unos 5 kilos, es obvio que las familias por ganar unos pesos mas no ponen tanta atencion en la calidad de lo recolectado, llenando sus bolsas con frutos verdes o picados.
Nos mostraron el proceso y recuerdo la etapa de separacion de granos, en donde de extendian en algo parecido a una alberca y se vertia agua. Los frutos mejores quedaban al fondo y los defectuosos flotaban. Asumimos todos que los granos flotantes eran desechados a lo que Avelino punzante declaro: no, esos que flotan son los que se usan para el consumo interno, del que se hace cafe instantaneo y el del fondo es el que se exporta. Brasil exporta el excedente de su produccion, el mejor cafe se queda en el pais. Aun el Nescafe brasilenio es muy bueno.
Extracto del guion de Unforgiven
THE WILLIAM MUNNY KILLINGS
Original Screenplay by David Webb Peoples
PRODUCTION DRAFT
April 23, 1984
EXT. HOG PEN - DAY
The hog in the mud, snorting and squealing, ugly as hell and
BILL MUNNY in the mud with him, pushing and shoving, trying
to move the stubborn animal and Munny goes down face first
and comes up more covered with mud than he already was and
the words on the screen say,
WRITTEN WORDS (super)
Some months later, Hodgeman
County, Kansas.
Munny is thirty-five or forty years old, his hair is
thinning and his moustache droops glumly over his stubbled
jaw. If it were not for his eyes he would look like any pig
farmer with his canvas overalls tucked in his boots pushing
on a hog. He is pushing on the hog again, grunting with the
effort, when he hears the voice.
THE KID'S VOICE o.s.
You don't look like no rootin',
tootin', sonofabitchin',
cold-blooded assassin.
MUNNY
(looking up, startled)
Huh?
THE KID is only six feet away, the sun behind him, sitting
on a very big and very ancient Morgan horse. He's wearing
a wide-brimmed Texas hat, a vest, a holstered pistol, and he
is a wiry kid, maybe twenty years old, with scraggly blonde
hair, four of his upper front teeth missing, and a funny,
squinty way of looking out of his watery blue eyes. Most of
all, he doesn't look very prosperous.
THE KID
I seen how you got only three
fingers on your left hand, though,
so I guess you're calling yourself
Mister Bill Munny.
Munny does indeed have three fingers on his left hand and he
doesn't like this conversation at all.
MUNNY
William Munny, yeah.
THE KID
Same one as shot Charlie Pepper in
Lake County?
A VOICE
Paw! Hey, Paw!
The voice belongs to WILL, a skinny ten-year-old who dashes
up with his seven-year-old sister, PENNY, right on his
heels. The kids are ragged and dirty, they don't look well
fed or even very healthy. Even as Will speaks to his
father, Munny, his eyes, and Penny's too, go to The Kid.
They don't see many strangers.
MUNNY
What is it, son?
WILL
Two more hogs got the fever.
Munny winces. The Kid ignores the interruption.
THE KID
You shot Charlie Pepper, didn't
you? And you're the one killed
William Harbey an' robbed the
train over...
MUNNY
(sharply)
Hold on, mister.
(to Will)
Son, this here pig gotta be moved
outta this pen, away from them
others. Penny, you give yer
brother a hand...
PENNY
(emotional)
This one's sick too?
Munny ignores the question, already on his way to the
miserable-looking shack.
MUNNY
Let's talk inside, mister.
INT. SOD HUT - DAY
Munny selects a tin cup from a wash pan of dirty dishes. It
is dark and cool inside his one room sod hut... and poor.
The Kid checks one of the three chairs for stability before
sitting down.
MUNNY
You're Pete Sothow's nephew, huh?
Hell, I thought maybe you was
someone come to kill me...
(he has the cups and
he crosses to the fire)
...for somethin' I done in the
old days.
THE KID
(sitting)
I could of... easy.
MUNNY
Yeah, I guess so.
THE KID
Like I was sayin' you don't look
like no meaner than hell cold-
blooded damn killer.
MUNNY
Maybe I ain't.
THE KID
Well, Uncle Pete said you was the
goddamndest meanest sonofabitch
ever lived an' if I ever wanted a
partner for a killin', you was the
worst one. Meanin' the best. On
account of you're cold as snow an'
don't have no weak nerve nor fear.
Munny serves the coffee gloomily and sits down. It appears
his feelings are hurt but The Kid doesn't notices.
MUNNY
He said that, huh?
THE KID
I'm a damn killer myself, only I
ain't killed so many as you because
of my youth. Schofield Kid, they
call me.
MUNNY
Schofield? You from Schofield?
THE KID
(laying his Smith & Wesson
Schofield .45 on the table)
On account of my Schofield model
Smith and Wesson pistol.
MUNNY
Oh.
THE KID
Well, how about it?
MUNNY
About what?
THE KID
Bein' my partner. I'm headin' North
up around the Niobrara in Nebraska.
Gonna kill a couple of no good cowboys.
MUNNY
What for?
THE KID
For cuttin' up a lady. They cut up
her face an' cut her eyes out, cut
her ears off an' her tits too.
MUNNY
(horrified)
Jesus!
THE KID
(pleased with the
reaction)
Thousand dollars of reward. Five
hundred a piece.
WILL
Paw, I can't move that damn pig.
Will has slipped into the house with Penny in tow and they
are both covered with mud and Will is swearing toshow off
to the stranger.
MUNNY
(embarrassed)
No cussin' now, Will. Go on out
the pump an' clean up some an' I'll
be along. Check them other pens.
The two kids back out the door, eyes on the pistol and the
stranger, and Munny walks over near the beds with his back
to The Kid.
MUNNY
I ain't like that no more, Kid.
Whiskey done it as much as anythin'
I guess.
(turning to The Kid)
I ain't touched a drop in ten years.
My wife, she cured me of it...
cured me of drink an' wickedness.
THE KID
Well... you don't look so prosper-
ous. Hell, you could buy her a new
dress out of your half. We could
kill them two an' you could buy
your wife one of them fancy...
MUNNY
She's passed on, Kid.
THE KID
Huh?
MUNNY
Been gone near three years now.
THE KID
(staring stupidly)
Oh.
EXT. SOD HUT - DAY
Will and Penny in front of the house, looking up at The Kid
who is mounted again and Munny is standing there taking
leave of The Kid.
THE KID
Don't tell nobody about the
reward an' all. Don't need no
other gunmen tryin' to collect.
MUNNY
I don't never see nobody anyhow.
THE KID
(riding away)
If you was to change your mind,
might be you could catch me...
due West to the Western Trail
an' North to Ogallala.
Munny waves at The Kid and for a long moment watches him
trot across the flat, grassy fields. Then he turns back to
his shabby farm and the squealing pigs and the two children
who are looking up at him.
WILL
Who's he?
MUNNY
(turning away)
Best we move that pig.
Original Screenplay by David Webb Peoples
PRODUCTION DRAFT
April 23, 1984
EXT. HOG PEN - DAY
The hog in the mud, snorting and squealing, ugly as hell and
BILL MUNNY in the mud with him, pushing and shoving, trying
to move the stubborn animal and Munny goes down face first
and comes up more covered with mud than he already was and
the words on the screen say,
WRITTEN WORDS (super)
Some months later, Hodgeman
County, Kansas.
Munny is thirty-five or forty years old, his hair is
thinning and his moustache droops glumly over his stubbled
jaw. If it were not for his eyes he would look like any pig
farmer with his canvas overalls tucked in his boots pushing
on a hog. He is pushing on the hog again, grunting with the
effort, when he hears the voice.
THE KID'S VOICE o.s.
You don't look like no rootin',
tootin', sonofabitchin',
cold-blooded assassin.
MUNNY
(looking up, startled)
Huh?
THE KID is only six feet away, the sun behind him, sitting
on a very big and very ancient Morgan horse. He's wearing
a wide-brimmed Texas hat, a vest, a holstered pistol, and he
is a wiry kid, maybe twenty years old, with scraggly blonde
hair, four of his upper front teeth missing, and a funny,
squinty way of looking out of his watery blue eyes. Most of
all, he doesn't look very prosperous.
THE KID
I seen how you got only three
fingers on your left hand, though,
so I guess you're calling yourself
Mister Bill Munny.
Munny does indeed have three fingers on his left hand and he
doesn't like this conversation at all.
MUNNY
William Munny, yeah.
THE KID
Same one as shot Charlie Pepper in
Lake County?
A VOICE
Paw! Hey, Paw!
The voice belongs to WILL, a skinny ten-year-old who dashes
up with his seven-year-old sister, PENNY, right on his
heels. The kids are ragged and dirty, they don't look well
fed or even very healthy. Even as Will speaks to his
father, Munny, his eyes, and Penny's too, go to The Kid.
They don't see many strangers.
MUNNY
What is it, son?
WILL
Two more hogs got the fever.
Munny winces. The Kid ignores the interruption.
THE KID
You shot Charlie Pepper, didn't
you? And you're the one killed
William Harbey an' robbed the
train over...
MUNNY
(sharply)
Hold on, mister.
(to Will)
Son, this here pig gotta be moved
outta this pen, away from them
others. Penny, you give yer
brother a hand...
PENNY
(emotional)
This one's sick too?
Munny ignores the question, already on his way to the
miserable-looking shack.
MUNNY
Let's talk inside, mister.
INT. SOD HUT - DAY
Munny selects a tin cup from a wash pan of dirty dishes. It
is dark and cool inside his one room sod hut... and poor.
The Kid checks one of the three chairs for stability before
sitting down.
MUNNY
You're Pete Sothow's nephew, huh?
Hell, I thought maybe you was
someone come to kill me...
(he has the cups and
he crosses to the fire)
...for somethin' I done in the
old days.
THE KID
(sitting)
I could of... easy.
MUNNY
Yeah, I guess so.
THE KID
Like I was sayin' you don't look
like no meaner than hell cold-
blooded damn killer.
MUNNY
Maybe I ain't.
THE KID
Well, Uncle Pete said you was the
goddamndest meanest sonofabitch
ever lived an' if I ever wanted a
partner for a killin', you was the
worst one. Meanin' the best. On
account of you're cold as snow an'
don't have no weak nerve nor fear.
Munny serves the coffee gloomily and sits down. It appears
his feelings are hurt but The Kid doesn't notices.
MUNNY
He said that, huh?
THE KID
I'm a damn killer myself, only I
ain't killed so many as you because
of my youth. Schofield Kid, they
call me.
MUNNY
Schofield? You from Schofield?
THE KID
(laying his Smith & Wesson
Schofield .45 on the table)
On account of my Schofield model
Smith and Wesson pistol.
MUNNY
Oh.
THE KID
Well, how about it?
MUNNY
About what?
THE KID
Bein' my partner. I'm headin' North
up around the Niobrara in Nebraska.
Gonna kill a couple of no good cowboys.
MUNNY
What for?
THE KID
For cuttin' up a lady. They cut up
her face an' cut her eyes out, cut
her ears off an' her tits too.
MUNNY
(horrified)
Jesus!
THE KID
(pleased with the
reaction)
Thousand dollars of reward. Five
hundred a piece.
WILL
Paw, I can't move that damn pig.
Will has slipped into the house with Penny in tow and they
are both covered with mud and Will is swearing toshow off
to the stranger.
MUNNY
(embarrassed)
No cussin' now, Will. Go on out
the pump an' clean up some an' I'll
be along. Check them other pens.
The two kids back out the door, eyes on the pistol and the
stranger, and Munny walks over near the beds with his back
to The Kid.
MUNNY
I ain't like that no more, Kid.
Whiskey done it as much as anythin'
I guess.
(turning to The Kid)
I ain't touched a drop in ten years.
My wife, she cured me of it...
cured me of drink an' wickedness.
THE KID
Well... you don't look so prosper-
ous. Hell, you could buy her a new
dress out of your half. We could
kill them two an' you could buy
your wife one of them fancy...
MUNNY
She's passed on, Kid.
THE KID
Huh?
MUNNY
Been gone near three years now.
THE KID
(staring stupidly)
Oh.
EXT. SOD HUT - DAY
Will and Penny in front of the house, looking up at The Kid
who is mounted again and Munny is standing there taking
leave of The Kid.
THE KID
Don't tell nobody about the
reward an' all. Don't need no
other gunmen tryin' to collect.
MUNNY
I don't never see nobody anyhow.
THE KID
(riding away)
If you was to change your mind,
might be you could catch me...
due West to the Western Trail
an' North to Ogallala.
Munny waves at The Kid and for a long moment watches him
trot across the flat, grassy fields. Then he turns back to
his shabby farm and the squealing pigs and the two children
who are looking up at him.
WILL
Who's he?
MUNNY
(turning away)
Best we move that pig.
Thursday 20 September 2007
Prolepsis replicante
BLADE RUNNER
Screenplay by
HAMPTON FANCHER and DAVID PEOPLES
android (an'droid) adj. Possessing human features - n.
A synthetic man created from biological materials.
Also called humanoid. (Late Greek androeides,
manlike: ANDR(O) - OID.)
THE AMERICAN HERITAGE
DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH
LANGUAGE (1976)
android (an'droid) n, Gk. humanoid automation. more at
robot./ 1. early version utilized for work too
boring, dangerous or unpleasant for humans.
2. second generation bio-engineered. Electronic
relay units and positronic brains. Used in space
to explore inhospitable environments. 3. third
generation synthogenetic. REPLICANT, constructed
of skin/flesh culture. Selected enogenic transfer
conversion. Capable of self perpetuating thought.
paraphysical abilities. Developed for emigration
program.
WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY
New International (2012)
INT. DECKARD'S CAR - DAY
Deckard is at the wheel, Rachael is beside him.
Deckard smiles at her.
Rachael smiles back tentatively.
Deckard glances back at the road, then at the vid
screen.
A little blip flashes on the screen.
Deckard notices it, his eyes narrow just a little. He
reaches in his pocket, pulls out the unicorn.
Deckard puts the tinfoil unicorn on the dash.
A flicker of a smile crosses his face.
CUT TO:
EXT. WOODS - DAY
Deckard's car bullets through the woods in a fury of
speed and MUSIC.
We BACK OFF IT AND UP, PAST whizzing branches, OVER
the treetops, losing the car as we SOAR over what is
suddenly a vast forest spreading to infinity.
Enormous MUSIC!
Deckard's voice over.
DECKARD (V.O.)
I knew it on the roof that night.
We were brothers, Roy Batty and I!
Combat models of the highest order.
We had fought in wars not yet
dreamed of... in vast nightmares
still unnamed. We were the new
people... Roy and me and Rachael!
We were made for this world. It
was ours!
Trees explode PAST US in a rage of branches as we DIP
and SWERVE and that's when the spinner looms INTO VIEW
zooming RIGHT AT US, then tilting and yawing off in
hot pursuit with Gaff at the controls.
CREDITS ARE ROLLING, God help us all!
FADE OUT.
Screenplay by
HAMPTON FANCHER and DAVID PEOPLES
android (an'droid) adj. Possessing human features - n.
A synthetic man created from biological materials.
Also called humanoid. (Late Greek androeides,
manlike: ANDR(O) - OID.)
THE AMERICAN HERITAGE
DICTIONARY OF THE ENGLISH
LANGUAGE (1976)
android (an'droid) n, Gk. humanoid automation. more at
robot./ 1. early version utilized for work too
boring, dangerous or unpleasant for humans.
2. second generation bio-engineered. Electronic
relay units and positronic brains. Used in space
to explore inhospitable environments. 3. third
generation synthogenetic. REPLICANT, constructed
of skin/flesh culture. Selected enogenic transfer
conversion. Capable of self perpetuating thought.
paraphysical abilities. Developed for emigration
program.
WEBSTER'S DICTIONARY
New International (2012)
INT. DECKARD'S CAR - DAY
Deckard is at the wheel, Rachael is beside him.
Deckard smiles at her.
Rachael smiles back tentatively.
Deckard glances back at the road, then at the vid
screen.
A little blip flashes on the screen.
Deckard notices it, his eyes narrow just a little. He
reaches in his pocket, pulls out the unicorn.
Deckard puts the tinfoil unicorn on the dash.
A flicker of a smile crosses his face.
CUT TO:
EXT. WOODS - DAY
Deckard's car bullets through the woods in a fury of
speed and MUSIC.
We BACK OFF IT AND UP, PAST whizzing branches, OVER
the treetops, losing the car as we SOAR over what is
suddenly a vast forest spreading to infinity.
Enormous MUSIC!
Deckard's voice over.
DECKARD (V.O.)
I knew it on the roof that night.
We were brothers, Roy Batty and I!
Combat models of the highest order.
We had fought in wars not yet
dreamed of... in vast nightmares
still unnamed. We were the new
people... Roy and me and Rachael!
We were made for this world. It
was ours!
Trees explode PAST US in a rage of branches as we DIP
and SWERVE and that's when the spinner looms INTO VIEW
zooming RIGHT AT US, then tilting and yawing off in
hot pursuit with Gaff at the controls.
CREDITS ARE ROLLING, God help us all!
FADE OUT.
Wednesday 19 September 2007
No need to panic over bank crisis
No se a ustedes, pero a mi leer un encabezado asi en un periodico tan alineado como el Times hace que suba mi sospechosismo a niveles alarmantes y un sarcastico simon brote de mi casi sin darme cuenta.
Hace tres dias se podian apreciar largas filas afuera de las sucursales del Northern Rock Bank del Reino Unido. La razon, el anuncio de que el banco no contaba con recursos suficientes para asegurar los fondos de sus ahorradores. La caida del Northern Rock se debe en gran parte en el hecho de recuperar solo tres cuartos del total del dinero que presta, el cual obtiene del mercado de dinero, no de los depositos de sus ahorradores. El dinero con que cuenta el banco esta comprometido con el exterior, y aunque se ha querido minimizar, se encuentra relacionado con el crash del mercado hipotecario en Estados Unidos. Los ahorradores al entererarse salieron a las calles, pasando horas bajo la lluvia para reclamar sus ahorros, en muchos casos los de toda su vida. En un solo dia los ahorradores sacaron 2 billones de libras, el Banco de Inglaterra tuvo que actuar rapidamente e inyectar 24 billones para garantizar la seguridad de los depositos de la gente y obviamente paliar la creciente histeria que rapidamente empezaba a expanderse a las demas instituciones bancarias. Al siguiente dia, en todos los medios se dio a conocer que el Banco de Inglaterra garantizaba los fondos del NR y llamaba a la calma y asi sucedio, para el dia de ayer ya no habia largas filas, la receta de tranquilidad funciono, la gente se siente segura y respaldada. Fue una muy buena jugada del Gobierno que de otra forma hubiera vivido una crisis dificil de controlar. Sin embargo la medida me parece preocupante, estamos hablando de 24 billones de libras, que ya ni siquiera se mencionan. Prueba de una economia fuerte, presume el Primer Ministro.
Lo que me llama la tencion no es el crash financiero que se anuncia desde hace mucho tiempo en la economia global, sino la preocupante candidez de las masas.
El alto nivel de endeudamiento en tarjetas de credito es la norma, todo mundo vive con gran deuda, se gasta mucho mas de lo que se percibe a nivel personal. Los intereses por prestamos hipotecarios han llegado a niveles nunca antes vistos, nada de esto es de extranar. Se acuerdan del corralito? y del efecto tequila?
Me imagino a un gordo gigante bien cebo asi como al Cartens comiendo tacos de carnitas balanceandose sobre nuestras cabezas en un trapecio sostenido de hilos de seda.
Hace tres dias se podian apreciar largas filas afuera de las sucursales del Northern Rock Bank del Reino Unido. La razon, el anuncio de que el banco no contaba con recursos suficientes para asegurar los fondos de sus ahorradores. La caida del Northern Rock se debe en gran parte en el hecho de recuperar solo tres cuartos del total del dinero que presta, el cual obtiene del mercado de dinero, no de los depositos de sus ahorradores. El dinero con que cuenta el banco esta comprometido con el exterior, y aunque se ha querido minimizar, se encuentra relacionado con el crash del mercado hipotecario en Estados Unidos. Los ahorradores al entererarse salieron a las calles, pasando horas bajo la lluvia para reclamar sus ahorros, en muchos casos los de toda su vida. En un solo dia los ahorradores sacaron 2 billones de libras, el Banco de Inglaterra tuvo que actuar rapidamente e inyectar 24 billones para garantizar la seguridad de los depositos de la gente y obviamente paliar la creciente histeria que rapidamente empezaba a expanderse a las demas instituciones bancarias. Al siguiente dia, en todos los medios se dio a conocer que el Banco de Inglaterra garantizaba los fondos del NR y llamaba a la calma y asi sucedio, para el dia de ayer ya no habia largas filas, la receta de tranquilidad funciono, la gente se siente segura y respaldada. Fue una muy buena jugada del Gobierno que de otra forma hubiera vivido una crisis dificil de controlar. Sin embargo la medida me parece preocupante, estamos hablando de 24 billones de libras, que ya ni siquiera se mencionan. Prueba de una economia fuerte, presume el Primer Ministro.
Lo que me llama la tencion no es el crash financiero que se anuncia desde hace mucho tiempo en la economia global, sino la preocupante candidez de las masas.
El alto nivel de endeudamiento en tarjetas de credito es la norma, todo mundo vive con gran deuda, se gasta mucho mas de lo que se percibe a nivel personal. Los intereses por prestamos hipotecarios han llegado a niveles nunca antes vistos, nada de esto es de extranar. Se acuerdan del corralito? y del efecto tequila?
Me imagino a un gordo gigante bien cebo asi como al Cartens comiendo tacos de carnitas balanceandose sobre nuestras cabezas en un trapecio sostenido de hilos de seda.
Tuesday 18 September 2007
Tecnologia chiclera
El departamento de productos nuevos de la Wringleys co. busca sacar nuevos sabores tratando de atraer al mercado latino, aqui las propuestas:
Chicle con sabor a jicama con chile y limon
Chicle con sabor a tacos al pastor (de una vez, digo,para ahorrarte los tacos despues de la peda y quedar con buen aliento)
Chicle de dieta sabor chayote (con fenilananina)
Chicle con sabor a motita de platano
Chicle con sabor a helado (Si el helado de chicle pego, porque no lo opuesto)
Chicle con sabor a jicama con chile y limon
Chicle con sabor a tacos al pastor (de una vez, digo,para ahorrarte los tacos despues de la peda y quedar con buen aliento)
Chicle de dieta sabor chayote (con fenilananina)
Chicle con sabor a motita de platano
Chicle con sabor a helado (Si el helado de chicle pego, porque no lo opuesto)
Monday 17 September 2007
Propuesta
Movido por la inquietud que me ha dejado el leer tantas veces como productos mexicanos se ven vetados del mercado gringo por contener cantidades elevadas de plomo, me apresuro a hacer un llamado a todos los mexicanos para que de una vez por todas en lugar de lloriquear y quejarnos,tomemos al toro por los cuernos y saquemos ventaja de nuestras limitaciones; he aqui una propuesta sobre la vialibilidad del incremento del uso de plomo en la vida diaria de los ciudadanos mexicanos.
Basandose en argumentos tan absurdos como el decir que los ninios mexicanos no crecen mucho debido al elevado contenido de plomo en los pulparindos (la gravedad como elemento achaparrador), los gringos inhiben el disfrute de tan singular golosina en la ninez sajona. Ya basta, digo yo. Si algo positivo se puede decir de los mexicanos es su aguante y adaptacion a nuevos medios, el plomo no hace danio, no, al contrario, esta ayudando a crear una nueva clase de mexicano sobreviviente y mutante al estilo de los X-men. Basta de buscar disminuir el plomo en juguetes y en golosinas en detrimento de su tan delicioso sabor, basta de tratar de agradar cambiando envoltorios e ingredientes, yo propongo en lugar de disminuir el contenido de plomo; incrementarlo. Asi no tendriamos de que preocuparnos que la niniez mexicana se encuentre mal alimentada, sino podemos incrementar el consumo de hierro y minerales en los escuincles, demosles plomo, que de algo ha de servir.
Una alimentacion rica en plomo beneficiaria a nuestras fuerzas armadas y futuros policias al crear humanoides, parte humano parte robot, logrando robocops y soldados que si no altos y mamados si serian chaparros, pesados y bastante resistentes.
Las ollas de barro que no permiten pasar al otro lado si fueran recubiertas con doble plomo podrian convertirse en resistentes cascos lo mismo para represores agentes antimotines, hasta podrian ponerse de moda (sin mencionar que suponiendo el GI Juan se encuentra en mision y necesita calentar unos frijolitos solo necesitara de un fuego ya que su casco haria facilmente las veces de cazuela).
Siguiendo con el uso militar habria que mencionar que los lucas-pelucas facilmente podrian ser usados como municiones en caso de un posible masiosare un extranio enemigo, imaginen ustedes el poder destructivo de esta aparentemente inocente golosina; usados como balas ademas de provocar un boquete enorme vertirian su contenido venenoso y picante provocando un ardor insoportable, peor que las expansivas y el napalm.
Los uniformes de los futuros soldados mexicanos deberian ser tenidos con pintura rica en plomo, en colores amarillo chingamelavista o en vivo rosa mexicano, para crear confusion y toxicidad en el enemigo.
Compatriotas, aprovechemos la ventaja que nos da el tener millones de habitantes en el D.F. cuyos pulmones poseen una mayor resistencia y capacidad de asimilacion al plomo. Pongamos centros de entrenemiento ahi mismo o establezcamos unos nuevos en ciudades con alta contaminacion y contenido de plomo en el aire como Guadalajara, Monterrey y Xalapa. Hagamos del plomo nuestro aliado.
Basandose en argumentos tan absurdos como el decir que los ninios mexicanos no crecen mucho debido al elevado contenido de plomo en los pulparindos (la gravedad como elemento achaparrador), los gringos inhiben el disfrute de tan singular golosina en la ninez sajona. Ya basta, digo yo. Si algo positivo se puede decir de los mexicanos es su aguante y adaptacion a nuevos medios, el plomo no hace danio, no, al contrario, esta ayudando a crear una nueva clase de mexicano sobreviviente y mutante al estilo de los X-men. Basta de buscar disminuir el plomo en juguetes y en golosinas en detrimento de su tan delicioso sabor, basta de tratar de agradar cambiando envoltorios e ingredientes, yo propongo en lugar de disminuir el contenido de plomo; incrementarlo. Asi no tendriamos de que preocuparnos que la niniez mexicana se encuentre mal alimentada, sino podemos incrementar el consumo de hierro y minerales en los escuincles, demosles plomo, que de algo ha de servir.
Una alimentacion rica en plomo beneficiaria a nuestras fuerzas armadas y futuros policias al crear humanoides, parte humano parte robot, logrando robocops y soldados que si no altos y mamados si serian chaparros, pesados y bastante resistentes.
Las ollas de barro que no permiten pasar al otro lado si fueran recubiertas con doble plomo podrian convertirse en resistentes cascos lo mismo para represores agentes antimotines, hasta podrian ponerse de moda (sin mencionar que suponiendo el GI Juan se encuentra en mision y necesita calentar unos frijolitos solo necesitara de un fuego ya que su casco haria facilmente las veces de cazuela).
Siguiendo con el uso militar habria que mencionar que los lucas-pelucas facilmente podrian ser usados como municiones en caso de un posible masiosare un extranio enemigo, imaginen ustedes el poder destructivo de esta aparentemente inocente golosina; usados como balas ademas de provocar un boquete enorme vertirian su contenido venenoso y picante provocando un ardor insoportable, peor que las expansivas y el napalm.
Los uniformes de los futuros soldados mexicanos deberian ser tenidos con pintura rica en plomo, en colores amarillo chingamelavista o en vivo rosa mexicano, para crear confusion y toxicidad en el enemigo.
Compatriotas, aprovechemos la ventaja que nos da el tener millones de habitantes en el D.F. cuyos pulmones poseen una mayor resistencia y capacidad de asimilacion al plomo. Pongamos centros de entrenemiento ahi mismo o establezcamos unos nuevos en ciudades con alta contaminacion y contenido de plomo en el aire como Guadalajara, Monterrey y Xalapa. Hagamos del plomo nuestro aliado.
Sunday 16 September 2007
Decoraciones de navidades pasadas
Algunos recuerdos asi como algunas fotos, van adquiriendo margenes amarillentos. Se van borrando y es preciso si queremos conservalos reinventarlos. Asi es como el viaje escolar, el primer baile van con el paso del tiempo llenandose de inexactitudes y mas y mas mitologia. Es muy comun atribuir hazanas a gente distinta o hacer de dichos de otros como propios.
Un pasado doloroso puede no volverse tanto al paso de los anios, es posible que en un afan de aliviar la pena la mente lo bloquee aislando solo los momentos dichosos. Este mismo efecto puede tener la culpa o la desesperacion. El pasado se ha ido. Si acaso queda en papeles que se amontonan olvidados en cajones, acechando como en la cancion de Serrat, pero no mas. Aferrarse a algo o alguien traera como resultado el desgaste. Afianzarse con todo a lo que no queremos dejar ir puede lastimar, porque todo esta fluyendo y todo cambia a cada instante, te quedas prendado de algo que no existe y lo alimentas con tus propios tintes, van sucediendose los hechos y paralelamente tu imagen mental como un frankenstein se mueve torpe y sin direccion.
Un pasado doloroso puede no volverse tanto al paso de los anios, es posible que en un afan de aliviar la pena la mente lo bloquee aislando solo los momentos dichosos. Este mismo efecto puede tener la culpa o la desesperacion. El pasado se ha ido. Si acaso queda en papeles que se amontonan olvidados en cajones, acechando como en la cancion de Serrat, pero no mas. Aferrarse a algo o alguien traera como resultado el desgaste. Afianzarse con todo a lo que no queremos dejar ir puede lastimar, porque todo esta fluyendo y todo cambia a cada instante, te quedas prendado de algo que no existe y lo alimentas con tus propios tintes, van sucediendose los hechos y paralelamente tu imagen mental como un frankenstein se mueve torpe y sin direccion.
Thursday 13 September 2007
Juguetes tóxicos
Edgarín Mendizábal jugaba pistitas muy tranquilo, trazando carreteras en el patio de su casa con un gis que se voló de la escuela. Se econtraba sumamente concentrado en una curva peligrosa por lo cual mantenía a salvo, apretado entre sus dientes su hot-wheels favorito; un Datsun-Z amarillo canario con flamas en las portezuelas. Edgarín empezó a sentirse chistoso, así como muy eufórico, decidió agregar a la carretera unas montañas de tierrita, uy para que se viera bien padrote. Ya encarrerado sacó unos popotes de tix-tix que le compró a la seño del puestecito de afuera de la escuela y se los pasó uno tras otro dejando caer la azúcar refinada con colorante directamente a su garganta. Después empezó a ver como unas borlas de colores bien chidas que flotaban alrededor suyo y en eso se imaginó que conducía su Datsun a toda velocidad pasando por la escuela y todos sus compañeros se morían de envidia y le decían: Edgarín, Edgarín, llévanos a pasear en tu nave, y el arrogante les contestaba: NEL, y arrancaba a toda velocidad dejando a los escuincles envueltos en una nube de humo de plomo multicolores.
Wednesday 12 September 2007
Extraña
A un beat sincopado se desarrollaron los hechos. La caligrafía tranquila no lo era entonces tanto. Sudando los labios. La tan extraña mujer de zapatillas. Los demás detalles desaparecían. El abrigo largo, la melena despeinada. La inquietud que en la noche se mezclaba. Lugares comúnes todo el tiempo, gente dialogando no tanto, reflejándose mas bien en su celular recién comprado. La miraba a través de las bebidas de colores de quienes se encontraban en la barra. La miraba porque yo estaba sólo y ella no tenía compañía, por distraerme porque iniciar plática no me apetecía. La mujer tomaba martinis de un solo trago, sin comer la aceituna. Fumaba uno de esos cigarros largos delgados que consumen las mujeres fatales. Pidió fuego a un extraño. Pero el cigarrillo permanecía intacto a pesar del fuego aspirado. La mujer extraña en su sitio se fue consumiendo como tabaco.
Tuesday 11 September 2007
Matter-Eater Lad
Hay un superheroe del universo de DC comics que se llama Matter-Eater Lad, lo que se me antoja traducir como el bato-come-materia. Fue creado por Jerry Siegel y John Forte y aparece por primera vez en el numero 303 deAdventure Comics. El superpoder que posee, como es facil adivinar, es la habilidad de hincar el diente y comer cualquier tipo de materia. Lo mismo chicharron duro que una fotocopiadora. Esta habilidad tan chabacana es comun en su planeta natal Bismoll. Lugar del cual, aunque no esta confirmado, se trajo tambien a la tierra el Pepto-Bismol que como bien sabemos es muy util para aliviar la indigestion. Al explicar sus origenes el bato come materia recuerda como todo empezo porque los microbios de su planeta volvieron toda la comida indigerible. Asi que empezaron inocentemente a experimentar con una gomita de borrar, unos gises asi hasta llegar al diurex y ya de plano una suela de zapato como Charlot, y asi. Aunque era miembro de la Legion de Superheroes no habia demasiada oportunidad de mostrar su tan particular habilidad, lo que le preocupaba, hasta que la esperada oportunidad se presento en el Superboy and The Legion of Super-Heroes # 251 cuando salvo al universo zambandose la supuestamente indestructible Miracle Machine, aunque la energia del aparato le dejo secuelas durante varios anios.
Aquaman
Discutiendo el otro dia sobre superheroes y despues de repasar los mas cool, poderosos, daniados llegamos al inevitable tema de los superpoderes mas inutiles. Salto a la mente Aquaman, quien hay que aceptar no posee poca cosa, respirar bajo el agua, comunicarse con los animales acuaticos, nadar muy bien. Lo que sucede es que al compararlo con los demas integrantes de la Liga de la Justicia sus habilidades no parecen tan practicas. Ademas de que no volar (o tener un chingo de dinero para comprarse un avion como Batman) le debe acarrear varios inconvenientes. Si mal no recuerdo cuando una situacion que requeria la ayuda de los Superamigos acontecia Aquaman debia pedirle un aventon a la Mujer Maravilla en su jet invisible (el cual era invisible, no asi los tripulantes que podias ver ridiculamente flotando mientras se transportaban). No tenia muchas ocasiones las cuales mostrar sus dotes, salvo la esporadica aparicion de un monstruo marino. Ademas algunas veces tenia que cargar con los Gemelos Fantasticos y su chango espacial.
Monday 10 September 2007
Espejo
Hay algunas veces en que no nos reconocemos en el espejo. La imagen que este reproduce no tiene similitud con la imagen mental de nosotros mismos. Acaso hayamos cambiado, quiza amanecimos hinchados o crudos lo que da una apariencia distorcionada. Capaz que el que cambio fue el espejo.
Fantasma urbano
Borromeo Gonzalez comenzo a dudar de su solidez fisica al chocar contra individuos por tercera vez saliendo del metro Insurgentes. No habia cruzado palabra en todo el dia hasta que llego a la farmacia para comprarse una pomada para labios resecos. A lo largo del mostrador distintas personas gritaban su pedido y buscaban llamar la atencion de los dependientes; Borromeo nomas no era atendido. Las puertas eran cerradas en su cara, nadie en el trabajo parecia mirarle, asi que decidio regresar a su casa y prepararse un buen desayuno a ver si asi se solidificaba un poco.
Thursday 6 September 2007
Tardecita
El sol se esta poniendo apenas
reposa su panza sobre el horizonte
ya su calor aminora
y la gente que salio a pasear
regresa a casa
reposa su panza sobre el horizonte
ya su calor aminora
y la gente que salio a pasear
regresa a casa
Nota de The Times Magazine
The Music Man
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/02/magazine/02rubin.t.html
Columbia didn’t hire producer Rick Rubin to punch a clock. It wants him to save the company. And just maybe the record business.
By LYNN HIRSCHBERG
Published: September 2, 2007
Rick Rubin is listening. A song by a new band called the Gossip is playing, and he is concentrating. He appears to be in a trance. His eyes are tightly closed and he is swaying back and forth to the beat, trying at once to hear what is right and wrong about the music. Rubin, who resembles a medium-size bear with a long, gray beard, is curled into the corner of a tufted velvet couch in the library of a house he owns but where he no longer lives. This three-story 1923 Spanish villa steeped in music history — Johnny Cash recorded in the basement studio; Jakob Dylan is recording a solo album there now — is used by Rubin for meetings. And ever since May, when he officially became co-head of Columbia Records, Rubin has been having nearly constant meetings. Beginning in 1984, when he started Def Jam Recordings, until his more recent occupation as a career-transforming, chart-topping, Grammy Award-winning producer for dozens of artists, as diverse as the Dixie Chicks, Slayer, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Neil Diamond, Rubin, who is 44, has never gone to an office of any kind. One of his conditions for taking the job at Sony, which owns Columbia, was that he wouldn't be required to have a desk or a phone in any of the corporate outposts. That wasn't a problem: Columbia didn't want Rubin to punch a clock. It wanted him to save the company. And just maybe the record business.
The Cash Phase Rubin worked with Johnny Cash for 10 years and produced five of his albums.
What that means, most of all, is that the company wants him to listen. It is Columbia's belief that Rubin will hear the answers in the music — that he will find the solution to its ever-increasing woes. The mighty music business is in free fall — it has lost control of radio; retail outlets like Tower Records have shut down; MTV rarely broadcasts music videos; and the once lucrative album market has been overshadowed by downloaded singles, which mainly benefits Apple. "The music business, as a whole, has lost its faith in content," David Geffen, the legendary music mogul, told me recently. "Only 10 years ago, companies wanted to make records, presumably good records, and see if they sold. But panic has set in, and now it's no longer about making music, it's all about how to sell music. And there's no clear answer about how to fix that problem. But I still believe that the top priority at any record company has to be coming up with great music. And for that reason, Sony was very smart to hire Rick."
Though Rubin maintains that his intention is simply to hear music with the fresh ears of a true fan, he has built his reputation on the simultaneously mystical and entirely decisive way he listens to a song. As the Gossip, which is fronted by a large, raucous woman named Beth Ditto, shouts to a stop, Rubin opens his eyes and nods yes. This is the first new band signed to Columbia that he has been enthralled by, but he is not yet sure how to organize the Gossip's future. "Let's hear something else," Rubin says to Kevin Kusatsu, who would, at any other record company, be called an A & R executive. (Traditionally, A & R executives spot, woo, recruit and oversee the talent of a record company.) "We don't have any titles at the new Columbia," Rubin explains, as Kusatsu, the first person Rubin hired, slips a disc out of its sleeve. "I don't want to create a new hierarchy to replace the old hierarchy."
Rubin, wearing his usual uniform of loose khaki pants and billowing white T-shirt, his sunglasses in his pocket, his feet bare, fingers a string of lapis lazuli Buddhist prayer beads, believed to bring wisdom to the wearer. Since Rubin's beard and hair nearly cover his face, his voice, which is soft and reassuring, becomes that much more vivid. He seems to be one with the room, which is lined in floor-to-ceiling books, most of which are of a spiritual nature, whether about Buddhism, the Bible or New Age quests for enlightenment. The library and the house are filled with religious iconography mixed with mementos from the world of pop. A massive brass Buddha is flanked by equally enormous speakers; vintage cardboard cutouts of John, Paul, George and Ringo circa "Help!" are placed around a multiarmed statue of Vishnu. On a low table, there are crystals and an old RadioShack cassette recorder that Rubin uses to listen to demo tapes; a framed photo of Jim Morrison stares at a crystal ball. In Rubin's world, music and spirituality collide.
Listen up! Gossip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_oclXxsLS0
http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/02/magazine/02rubin.t.html
Columbia didn’t hire producer Rick Rubin to punch a clock. It wants him to save the company. And just maybe the record business.
By LYNN HIRSCHBERG
Published: September 2, 2007
Rick Rubin is listening. A song by a new band called the Gossip is playing, and he is concentrating. He appears to be in a trance. His eyes are tightly closed and he is swaying back and forth to the beat, trying at once to hear what is right and wrong about the music. Rubin, who resembles a medium-size bear with a long, gray beard, is curled into the corner of a tufted velvet couch in the library of a house he owns but where he no longer lives. This three-story 1923 Spanish villa steeped in music history — Johnny Cash recorded in the basement studio; Jakob Dylan is recording a solo album there now — is used by Rubin for meetings. And ever since May, when he officially became co-head of Columbia Records, Rubin has been having nearly constant meetings. Beginning in 1984, when he started Def Jam Recordings, until his more recent occupation as a career-transforming, chart-topping, Grammy Award-winning producer for dozens of artists, as diverse as the Dixie Chicks, Slayer, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Neil Diamond, Rubin, who is 44, has never gone to an office of any kind. One of his conditions for taking the job at Sony, which owns Columbia, was that he wouldn't be required to have a desk or a phone in any of the corporate outposts. That wasn't a problem: Columbia didn't want Rubin to punch a clock. It wanted him to save the company. And just maybe the record business.
The Cash Phase Rubin worked with Johnny Cash for 10 years and produced five of his albums.
What that means, most of all, is that the company wants him to listen. It is Columbia's belief that Rubin will hear the answers in the music — that he will find the solution to its ever-increasing woes. The mighty music business is in free fall — it has lost control of radio; retail outlets like Tower Records have shut down; MTV rarely broadcasts music videos; and the once lucrative album market has been overshadowed by downloaded singles, which mainly benefits Apple. "The music business, as a whole, has lost its faith in content," David Geffen, the legendary music mogul, told me recently. "Only 10 years ago, companies wanted to make records, presumably good records, and see if they sold. But panic has set in, and now it's no longer about making music, it's all about how to sell music. And there's no clear answer about how to fix that problem. But I still believe that the top priority at any record company has to be coming up with great music. And for that reason, Sony was very smart to hire Rick."
Though Rubin maintains that his intention is simply to hear music with the fresh ears of a true fan, he has built his reputation on the simultaneously mystical and entirely decisive way he listens to a song. As the Gossip, which is fronted by a large, raucous woman named Beth Ditto, shouts to a stop, Rubin opens his eyes and nods yes. This is the first new band signed to Columbia that he has been enthralled by, but he is not yet sure how to organize the Gossip's future. "Let's hear something else," Rubin says to Kevin Kusatsu, who would, at any other record company, be called an A & R executive. (Traditionally, A & R executives spot, woo, recruit and oversee the talent of a record company.) "We don't have any titles at the new Columbia," Rubin explains, as Kusatsu, the first person Rubin hired, slips a disc out of its sleeve. "I don't want to create a new hierarchy to replace the old hierarchy."
Rubin, wearing his usual uniform of loose khaki pants and billowing white T-shirt, his sunglasses in his pocket, his feet bare, fingers a string of lapis lazuli Buddhist prayer beads, believed to bring wisdom to the wearer. Since Rubin's beard and hair nearly cover his face, his voice, which is soft and reassuring, becomes that much more vivid. He seems to be one with the room, which is lined in floor-to-ceiling books, most of which are of a spiritual nature, whether about Buddhism, the Bible or New Age quests for enlightenment. The library and the house are filled with religious iconography mixed with mementos from the world of pop. A massive brass Buddha is flanked by equally enormous speakers; vintage cardboard cutouts of John, Paul, George and Ringo circa "Help!" are placed around a multiarmed statue of Vishnu. On a low table, there are crystals and an old RadioShack cassette recorder that Rubin uses to listen to demo tapes; a framed photo of Jim Morrison stares at a crystal ball. In Rubin's world, music and spirituality collide.
Listen up! Gossip http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b_oclXxsLS0
Wednesday 5 September 2007
Concursos y premiaciones
Los conteos y las premiaciones son un fraude. En raras ocasiones se ocupan de la obra, de lo que se trata es de pavonear el ego. Alguien en posicion de poder juzga y decide quien participa, desde un centro de superioridad se decide quienes entran al circo romano. Que caso tiene descubir al mejor, o a quienes un grupo de gente consideran lo mas destacado, la votacion de la gente que llama, vota, juega? Y es una participacion vacia y poco creativa, en donde todo un set ha sido puesto con actores, luces, maquillaje. Tu no elegiste nada, te estan dando opciones vacias. La estupidez de las masas no puede confiarse, no debe confiarse la voluntad propia a millones de zombies aunque sean millones.
Lo mismo los oscares, el oti, big brother, los grammys, los premios furia musical, el mundial, juguemos a cantar, los arieles, los brit awards, cannes, el teleton, los mtv awards, las votaciones, las olimpiadas, concursos de belleza, records guiness.
Entiendo perfectamente que Woody Allen no se moleste en cancelar su sesion de jazz para asistir a ceremonias anquilosadas.
Lo mismo los oscares, el oti, big brother, los grammys, los premios furia musical, el mundial, juguemos a cantar, los arieles, los brit awards, cannes, el teleton, los mtv awards, las votaciones, las olimpiadas, concursos de belleza, records guiness.
Entiendo perfectamente que Woody Allen no se moleste en cancelar su sesion de jazz para asistir a ceremonias anquilosadas.
Tuesday 4 September 2007
El escritorio de Pilar
A lo que Douglas Coupland se refirio como punto de engorda (como el que se utiliza para el ganado) es un espacio en una oficina, mas bien breve, que tiene la funcion de escritorio y archivero en donde se localiza la computadora y el telefono y se puede tener a la mano los lapiceros, clips, papeleras y demas monadas relativas a la burocracia.
Comunmente podemos encontrar en estos cubiculos alguna forma personal de decoracion. Es en este ultimo aspecto en donde el espacio de labor refleja en forma representativa la particular personalidad del oficinista que lo ocupa.
Pongamos por ejemplo a Pilar Mendez, que tiene colgando de una esquina superior del ordenador el zapatito de su retono. El angelito tiene ya dieciocho anios, el zapatito es ya amarillo y lleno de polvo. Pilaruca ha sido motivada en diversas ocasiones de la manera mas amable a que decline de conservarlo pero por no se que razon demasiado profunda para el minusculo reciocinio de sus companeros el zapatito es lo que caracteriza el escritorio de la pilar y ahi se queda. Nadie se atreveria a sentarse en el escritorio. El zapato marca el territorio, mas que el dulce souvenir de una etapa que se ha ido asemeja una cabeza encogida de los jibaros del Amazonas, una forma de mantener alejados a los curiosos y a los inoportunos que llegan a pedir informacion o a entregar una forma en el momento mas inadecuado, como cuando la pili se esta comiendo sus gordas del desayuno.
Comunmente podemos encontrar en estos cubiculos alguna forma personal de decoracion. Es en este ultimo aspecto en donde el espacio de labor refleja en forma representativa la particular personalidad del oficinista que lo ocupa.
Pongamos por ejemplo a Pilar Mendez, que tiene colgando de una esquina superior del ordenador el zapatito de su retono. El angelito tiene ya dieciocho anios, el zapatito es ya amarillo y lleno de polvo. Pilaruca ha sido motivada en diversas ocasiones de la manera mas amable a que decline de conservarlo pero por no se que razon demasiado profunda para el minusculo reciocinio de sus companeros el zapatito es lo que caracteriza el escritorio de la pilar y ahi se queda. Nadie se atreveria a sentarse en el escritorio. El zapato marca el territorio, mas que el dulce souvenir de una etapa que se ha ido asemeja una cabeza encogida de los jibaros del Amazonas, una forma de mantener alejados a los curiosos y a los inoportunos que llegan a pedir informacion o a entregar una forma en el momento mas inadecuado, como cuando la pili se esta comiendo sus gordas del desayuno.
Nota de The Independent
The night of the unknowns: The Mercury Music Prize
Forget Amy Winehouse and the Arctic Monkeys, some contenders for tonight's Mercury music prize are virtually unknown. Elisa Bray reports
Published: 04 September 2007
Tonight's Nationwide Mercury Prize could see the Arctic Monkeys win the award for the second year running – a first in the Mercury's 16-year history – but newcomer Bat for Lashes is more likely to pick up the £20,000 prize money. The odds are quite close, however, with Jamie T and Amy Winehouse also tipped to win, but – as the 2005 Mercury winner Antony and the Johnsons proved – the bookies don't, traditionally, do very well out of this contest.
Although the 10 judges choose the winner on the basis of only one album, the Mercury Prize has always been associated with new British talent. And two-thirds of this year's short-listed album are debuts.
The director of the Nationwide Mercury Prize, Kevin Milburn, says: "There are more new names on the list. Last year we had Thom Yorke, Scritti Politti and Richard Hawley. This year, Maps, Fionn Regan and Bat for Lashes are all artists just starting out. Dizzee Rascal seems a veteran by comparison."
He continues: "It's quite an intriguing list, spread between urban and rural sounds – there's a contrast between what's going on in London with the Klaxons, New Young Pony Club, Dizzee Rascal and Jamie T, and the different sounds being produced in Ireland with Fionn Regan and in Dundee with The View."
Londoner Jamie T, at 21 years old one of the youngest artists to receive a nomination this year for his debut Panic Prevention, has already beaten off Jarvis Cocker and Yorke to win the Best Solo Artist prize at this year's NME Awards. Signed to Virgin, all four of his singles have been Top 25 chart hits.
A win for Winehouse, who has been dominating headlines for alleged drug and alcohol misuse and gig cancellations, would probably do more for the Mercury Prize than for her as an artist. It would certainly contradict her in-laws' pleas for fans to boycott her music to help discourage the 23-year-old from taking drugs. Nominated for Back to Black, which has been in the charts for 44 weeks and is currently riding high at No 2, Winehouse was also nominated for her debut album Frank in 2004. On whether Winehouse would be attending the awards this evening, Milburn says: "We're hoping she's going to attend. Watch this space."
For Bat for Lashes, however, the nomination is the icing on the cake of a great year. The creation of 27-year-old singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Natasha Khan, Bat for Lashes released their debut album Furs and Gold last September, and have since been signed to Parlophone, appeared on the BBC's The Culture Show, and been shot by fashion photographer Nick Knight for Vogue, alongside Cat Power and Beth Ditto.
This summer, Bat for Lashes played the Latitude and Field Day festivals, as well as Glastonbury. Her haunting, eccentric and dramatic music has gained celebrity fans including Yorke, Devendra Banhart, the Klaxons, CSS and Björk, who personally invited her to support her at Rock En Seine in Paris in August. She could well steal this year's prize.
Bat for Lashes is not the only exciting rising star up for this year's prestigious award. Only this week, Natasha Khan, Regan and Maps jointly recorded "Higher Than the Sun" – from Primal Scream's Screamadelica, the 1992 Mercury Prize winner – for a special Mercury-themed edition of Radio 1's In the Company Of.
Regan may be an outsider in the awards but he is far from being the token folk artist. The troubadour grew up in Bray, near Dublin, and has been compared to Bob Dylan and Nick Drake. He was recently signed to US label Lost Highway, which places him in the highest echelon of folk and country singer-songwriters, alongside Johnny Cash and Lucinda Williams. The intricate folk and engaging poetic storytelling of his debut album The End of History, released in February on Bella Union, was a critical hit, and the Mercury judges described his "moving songs beautifully played and sung".
Maps is another outsider who could surprise the bookies. James Chapman wrote and recorded his We Can Create electronica-indie album – inspired by a period of depression – in his Northampton bedroom on a 16-track recorder. It is both beautiful and atmospheric, in the shoegazing vein of My Bloody Valentine and Spiritualized.
This year's 12-strong list is not a token nod to musical genres; rather, it is a representation of the current trends in music, from the surge in new rave and dance music – represented by Klaxons' debut Myths of the Near Future and New Young Pony Club's Fantastic Playroom – to guitar bands The View and Arctic Monkeys. Last year's award seemingly put an end to the "curse of the Mercury" as the Arctic Monkeys rose to even greater heights and are now nominated for their second album Favourite Worst Nightmare. They are the first band to be nominated two years consecutively.
On whether we should such successful artists should be up for the award, Milburn says: "It's tricky, because we say don't take sales into account, but you can't have that not work both ways and therefore focus on bands not selling as much. That would be inverted snobbery if we only chose records that sold less than a certain number."
Jazz, meanwhile, is represented by Basquiat Strings' Seb Rochford, the drummer from previously nominated band Polar Bear. Lastly, Dizzee Rascal flies the flag for hip-hop.
The Nationwide Mercury Music Prize will be broadcast tonight from 7pm on Radio 1 and from 9pm on BBC4
Mercury short-list: the odds, and The Independent's view
Bat for Lashes 'Fur and Gold' (7-4)
Natasha Khan's music, occupying a position between folk and the avant-garde, offers countless fascinating musical diversions, such as zither, harpsichord and vibes. Fur And Gold inhabits the crossover market niche where elfin folk overlaps into goth.
Amy Winehouse 'Back to Black' (2-1)
For her follow-up to Frank, Winehouse has shifted her emphasis from jazz to soulful R&B. But for all its musical purchase on the past, what sets Winehouse's album apart from those of her peers is its rejection of genre clichés.
Jamie T 'Panic Prevention' (3-1)
While Jamie T is an occasionally nimble wordsmith, there's little depth to Panic Prevention, which offers drearily repetitive rounds of booze, birds, backbiting and beatings, rattled out in Estuary English, over cramped backings fatally restricted by his chosen instrument.
Maps 'We Can Create' (8-1)
Maps' lush, exotic and luminous textures sprawl somewhere between the sonic freefall of My Bloody Valentine, Four Tet's folktronica, Sigur Ros's soundscapes and a hymnal, Spiritualized-ish quality, but always with an eye on melody and subtlety.
Fionn Regan 'The End of History' (12-1)
This folkish singer-songwriter from Dublin ranges boldly in mood, musicality and matter, with his briskly plucked laments and images of urban decline or rustic simplicity, sitting smartly alongside literary references, poetic asides and brightly witty storytelling.
Klaxons 'Myths of the Near Future' (12-1)
The full-on siren sample-groove of "Atlantis to Interzone" recalls The Prodigy and Chemical Brothers. But the band's seemingly incongruent elements of techno, indie guitar rock and catchy close-harmony vocal chants combine with enough appeal to carry the Klaxons beyond any dubious comparisons.
Arctic Monkeys'Favourite Worst Nightmare' (20-1)
They're stretching tentacles into other musical areas, not least the disco-funk-rock groove of "Old Yellow Bricks", the organ-fattened, stop-start "Fluorescent Adolescent", and particularly the ruminative approach of the sole slow number, "Only Ones Who Know".
The View 'Hats Off to the Buskers' (20-1)
The hotly tipped Dundee combo, on the strength of this debut album, are just another group traipsing along meekly in the wake of The Libertines, their only apparent innovation being the cartoonishly over-rolled Scots Rs applied by singer Kyle Falconer to the title hook of "Superstar Tradesman".
New Young Pony Club 'Fantastic Playroom' (40-1)
With spindly new-wave and electro-pop stylings, and unashamedly candid sexual come-ons, NYPC resemble an enticing cross between Talking Heads, New Order and CSS.
The Young Knives 'Voices of Animals and Men' (40-1)
Despite their preference for tweed and brogues, The Young Knives are just another exponent of brittle British new-wave guitar pop with attitude. There are a million ways to combine guitar, bass and drums, but The Young Knives don't seem interested in discovering them.
Basquiat Strings 'Basquiat Strings with Seb Rochford' (40-1)
This debut by cellist Ben Davis's impressive new string quintet is augmented by guest Seb Rochford on drums. When Davis really swings there's rich intensity.
Dizzee Rascal 'Maths + English' (50-1)
"Bubbles", Dizzee's appreciation of his £110 Nike trainers, and "Where's Da G's" are OK, but that "wall of enlightenment" he's seeking to climb seems steeper than anticipated.
Forget Amy Winehouse and the Arctic Monkeys, some contenders for tonight's Mercury music prize are virtually unknown. Elisa Bray reports
Published: 04 September 2007
Tonight's Nationwide Mercury Prize could see the Arctic Monkeys win the award for the second year running – a first in the Mercury's 16-year history – but newcomer Bat for Lashes is more likely to pick up the £20,000 prize money. The odds are quite close, however, with Jamie T and Amy Winehouse also tipped to win, but – as the 2005 Mercury winner Antony and the Johnsons proved – the bookies don't, traditionally, do very well out of this contest.
Although the 10 judges choose the winner on the basis of only one album, the Mercury Prize has always been associated with new British talent. And two-thirds of this year's short-listed album are debuts.
The director of the Nationwide Mercury Prize, Kevin Milburn, says: "There are more new names on the list. Last year we had Thom Yorke, Scritti Politti and Richard Hawley. This year, Maps, Fionn Regan and Bat for Lashes are all artists just starting out. Dizzee Rascal seems a veteran by comparison."
He continues: "It's quite an intriguing list, spread between urban and rural sounds – there's a contrast between what's going on in London with the Klaxons, New Young Pony Club, Dizzee Rascal and Jamie T, and the different sounds being produced in Ireland with Fionn Regan and in Dundee with The View."
Londoner Jamie T, at 21 years old one of the youngest artists to receive a nomination this year for his debut Panic Prevention, has already beaten off Jarvis Cocker and Yorke to win the Best Solo Artist prize at this year's NME Awards. Signed to Virgin, all four of his singles have been Top 25 chart hits.
A win for Winehouse, who has been dominating headlines for alleged drug and alcohol misuse and gig cancellations, would probably do more for the Mercury Prize than for her as an artist. It would certainly contradict her in-laws' pleas for fans to boycott her music to help discourage the 23-year-old from taking drugs. Nominated for Back to Black, which has been in the charts for 44 weeks and is currently riding high at No 2, Winehouse was also nominated for her debut album Frank in 2004. On whether Winehouse would be attending the awards this evening, Milburn says: "We're hoping she's going to attend. Watch this space."
For Bat for Lashes, however, the nomination is the icing on the cake of a great year. The creation of 27-year-old singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Natasha Khan, Bat for Lashes released their debut album Furs and Gold last September, and have since been signed to Parlophone, appeared on the BBC's The Culture Show, and been shot by fashion photographer Nick Knight for Vogue, alongside Cat Power and Beth Ditto.
This summer, Bat for Lashes played the Latitude and Field Day festivals, as well as Glastonbury. Her haunting, eccentric and dramatic music has gained celebrity fans including Yorke, Devendra Banhart, the Klaxons, CSS and Björk, who personally invited her to support her at Rock En Seine in Paris in August. She could well steal this year's prize.
Bat for Lashes is not the only exciting rising star up for this year's prestigious award. Only this week, Natasha Khan, Regan and Maps jointly recorded "Higher Than the Sun" – from Primal Scream's Screamadelica, the 1992 Mercury Prize winner – for a special Mercury-themed edition of Radio 1's In the Company Of.
Regan may be an outsider in the awards but he is far from being the token folk artist. The troubadour grew up in Bray, near Dublin, and has been compared to Bob Dylan and Nick Drake. He was recently signed to US label Lost Highway, which places him in the highest echelon of folk and country singer-songwriters, alongside Johnny Cash and Lucinda Williams. The intricate folk and engaging poetic storytelling of his debut album The End of History, released in February on Bella Union, was a critical hit, and the Mercury judges described his "moving songs beautifully played and sung".
Maps is another outsider who could surprise the bookies. James Chapman wrote and recorded his We Can Create electronica-indie album – inspired by a period of depression – in his Northampton bedroom on a 16-track recorder. It is both beautiful and atmospheric, in the shoegazing vein of My Bloody Valentine and Spiritualized.
This year's 12-strong list is not a token nod to musical genres; rather, it is a representation of the current trends in music, from the surge in new rave and dance music – represented by Klaxons' debut Myths of the Near Future and New Young Pony Club's Fantastic Playroom – to guitar bands The View and Arctic Monkeys. Last year's award seemingly put an end to the "curse of the Mercury" as the Arctic Monkeys rose to even greater heights and are now nominated for their second album Favourite Worst Nightmare. They are the first band to be nominated two years consecutively.
On whether we should such successful artists should be up for the award, Milburn says: "It's tricky, because we say don't take sales into account, but you can't have that not work both ways and therefore focus on bands not selling as much. That would be inverted snobbery if we only chose records that sold less than a certain number."
Jazz, meanwhile, is represented by Basquiat Strings' Seb Rochford, the drummer from previously nominated band Polar Bear. Lastly, Dizzee Rascal flies the flag for hip-hop.
The Nationwide Mercury Music Prize will be broadcast tonight from 7pm on Radio 1 and from 9pm on BBC4
Mercury short-list: the odds, and The Independent's view
Bat for Lashes 'Fur and Gold' (7-4)
Natasha Khan's music, occupying a position between folk and the avant-garde, offers countless fascinating musical diversions, such as zither, harpsichord and vibes. Fur And Gold inhabits the crossover market niche where elfin folk overlaps into goth.
Amy Winehouse 'Back to Black' (2-1)
For her follow-up to Frank, Winehouse has shifted her emphasis from jazz to soulful R&B. But for all its musical purchase on the past, what sets Winehouse's album apart from those of her peers is its rejection of genre clichés.
Jamie T 'Panic Prevention' (3-1)
While Jamie T is an occasionally nimble wordsmith, there's little depth to Panic Prevention, which offers drearily repetitive rounds of booze, birds, backbiting and beatings, rattled out in Estuary English, over cramped backings fatally restricted by his chosen instrument.
Maps 'We Can Create' (8-1)
Maps' lush, exotic and luminous textures sprawl somewhere between the sonic freefall of My Bloody Valentine, Four Tet's folktronica, Sigur Ros's soundscapes and a hymnal, Spiritualized-ish quality, but always with an eye on melody and subtlety.
Fionn Regan 'The End of History' (12-1)
This folkish singer-songwriter from Dublin ranges boldly in mood, musicality and matter, with his briskly plucked laments and images of urban decline or rustic simplicity, sitting smartly alongside literary references, poetic asides and brightly witty storytelling.
Klaxons 'Myths of the Near Future' (12-1)
The full-on siren sample-groove of "Atlantis to Interzone" recalls The Prodigy and Chemical Brothers. But the band's seemingly incongruent elements of techno, indie guitar rock and catchy close-harmony vocal chants combine with enough appeal to carry the Klaxons beyond any dubious comparisons.
Arctic Monkeys'Favourite Worst Nightmare' (20-1)
They're stretching tentacles into other musical areas, not least the disco-funk-rock groove of "Old Yellow Bricks", the organ-fattened, stop-start "Fluorescent Adolescent", and particularly the ruminative approach of the sole slow number, "Only Ones Who Know".
The View 'Hats Off to the Buskers' (20-1)
The hotly tipped Dundee combo, on the strength of this debut album, are just another group traipsing along meekly in the wake of The Libertines, their only apparent innovation being the cartoonishly over-rolled Scots Rs applied by singer Kyle Falconer to the title hook of "Superstar Tradesman".
New Young Pony Club 'Fantastic Playroom' (40-1)
With spindly new-wave and electro-pop stylings, and unashamedly candid sexual come-ons, NYPC resemble an enticing cross between Talking Heads, New Order and CSS.
The Young Knives 'Voices of Animals and Men' (40-1)
Despite their preference for tweed and brogues, The Young Knives are just another exponent of brittle British new-wave guitar pop with attitude. There are a million ways to combine guitar, bass and drums, but The Young Knives don't seem interested in discovering them.
Basquiat Strings 'Basquiat Strings with Seb Rochford' (40-1)
This debut by cellist Ben Davis's impressive new string quintet is augmented by guest Seb Rochford on drums. When Davis really swings there's rich intensity.
Dizzee Rascal 'Maths + English' (50-1)
"Bubbles", Dizzee's appreciation of his £110 Nike trainers, and "Where's Da G's" are OK, but that "wall of enlightenment" he's seeking to climb seems steeper than anticipated.
Monday 3 September 2007
Gratificacion ya!
Las sociedades actuales debido a las prisas de los tiempos, avances tecnologicos y definitivamente la influencia cultural norteamericana se encuentran obsesionadas por la gratificacion instantanea de necesidades. No solo estamos rodeados de productos innecesarios que nos prometen cualquier cantidad de nimiedades basados en nuestros mas superficiales deseos, tenemos tambien la premura por aplacarlos. La fast food puede ser el ejemplo mas inmediato, comida sin sabor y nulos valores nutricionales pero servida con presta eficiencia y cajita feliz. Dietas, carreras universitarias, relaciones, programas de ejercicios, entretenimiento, iluminacion espiritual, todo debe ser instantaneo. Si no hay que invertir mucho y con resultados inmediatos, mejor.
Me considero fan del i-pod sin embargo me encantan los tiempos inutiles como cuando escuchabas musica y se acababa el lado A del acetato, tenias que pararte del sofa o del piso y caminar hasta el estereo y darle vuelta al disco y jalarle la palanquita para que la aguja cayera nuevamente entre los surcos y se hiciera la musica.
Me considero fan del i-pod sin embargo me encantan los tiempos inutiles como cuando escuchabas musica y se acababa el lado A del acetato, tenias que pararte del sofa o del piso y caminar hasta el estereo y darle vuelta al disco y jalarle la palanquita para que la aguja cayera nuevamente entre los surcos y se hiciera la musica.
Sunday 2 September 2007
Ian McCulloch, sobreviviente de los ochentas
Nothing Lasts Forever Lyrics (Echo And The Bunnymen)
Ian McCulloch, William Sergeant, Les Pattinson, Pete de Frietas
Published by Warner Chappell Music Limited
I want it now I want it now
not the promises of what tomorrow brings
I need to live in dreams today
I'm tired of the song that sorrow sings
And I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
I walk to you
through rings of fire
and never let you know the way I feel
Under skin is where I hide
Love that always gets me on my knees
And I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
Nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
I want it now I want it now
don’t tell me that my ship is coming in
Nothing comes to those who wait
time's running out before you're running in
So I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
Nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
Nothing ever lastsforever nothing ever lasts forever
All the shadows and the pain are coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
Ian McCulloch, William Sergeant, Les Pattinson, Pete de Frietas
Published by Warner Chappell Music Limited
I want it now I want it now
not the promises of what tomorrow brings
I need to live in dreams today
I'm tired of the song that sorrow sings
And I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
I walk to you
through rings of fire
and never let you know the way I feel
Under skin is where I hide
Love that always gets me on my knees
And I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
Nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
I want it now I want it now
don’t tell me that my ship is coming in
Nothing comes to those who wait
time's running out before you're running in
So I want more than I can get
just trying to trying to trying to forget
Nothing ever lasts forever nothing ever lasts forever
Nothing ever lastsforever nothing ever lasts forever
All the shadows and the pain are coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
All the shadows and the pain coming to you
Saturday 1 September 2007
Yo tengo un chicle en mi cerebro
Inspirado en Hotwax de Beck, Odelay 1996
Juan Rodriguez fue a hacerse unos examenes porque se andaba sintiendo medio mareado en la oficina. Fue con un doctor que le recomendaron y al hacerle examenes y encontrar todo satisfactorio decidieron mandarlo a hacerse radiografias. Y ahi sale que tiene un chicle en el cerebro. Que hacer? la operacion es muy costosa y peligrosa. Debio haber sido unos de esos chicles motita queste tragaba por accidente.
Juanito decidio siguir viviendo con el chicle de frambuesa adherido a su materia gris, que algunas veces; sigue masticando.
Juan Rodriguez fue a hacerse unos examenes porque se andaba sintiendo medio mareado en la oficina. Fue con un doctor que le recomendaron y al hacerle examenes y encontrar todo satisfactorio decidieron mandarlo a hacerse radiografias. Y ahi sale que tiene un chicle en el cerebro. Que hacer? la operacion es muy costosa y peligrosa. Debio haber sido unos de esos chicles motita queste tragaba por accidente.
Juanito decidio siguir viviendo con el chicle de frambuesa adherido a su materia gris, que algunas veces; sigue masticando.
López Velarde
Ramón López Velarde (1888-1921)
Zozobra [1919]
LA MANCHA DE PÚRPURA
ME IMPONGO la costosa penitencia
de no mirarte en días y días, porque mis ojos,
cuando por fin te miren, se aneguen en tu esencia
como si naufragasen en un golfo de púrpura,
de melodía y de vehemencia.
Pasa el lunes y el martes, y el miércoles... Yo sufro
tu eclipse, i0h creatura solar!, mas en mi duelo
el afán de mirarte se dilata
como una profecía; se descorre cual velo
paulatino; se acendra como miel; se aquilata
como la entraña de las piedras finas;
y se aguza como el llavín
de la celda de amor de un monasterio en ruinas.
Tú no sabes la dicha refinada
que hay en huirte, que hay en el furtivo gozo
de adorarte furtivamente, de cortejarte
más allá de la sombra, de bajarse el embozo
una vez por semana, y exponer las pupilas,
en un minuto fraudulento,
a la mancha de púrpura de tu deslumbramiento.
En el bosque de amor, soy cazador furtivo;
te acecho entre dormidos y tupidos follajes,
como se acecha una ave fúlgida; y de estos viajes
por la espesura, traigo a mi aislamiento
el más fúlgido de los plumajes:
el plumaje de púrpura de tu deslumbramiento.
c. 1916
Zozobra [1919]
LA MANCHA DE PÚRPURA
ME IMPONGO la costosa penitencia
de no mirarte en días y días, porque mis ojos,
cuando por fin te miren, se aneguen en tu esencia
como si naufragasen en un golfo de púrpura,
de melodía y de vehemencia.
Pasa el lunes y el martes, y el miércoles... Yo sufro
tu eclipse, i0h creatura solar!, mas en mi duelo
el afán de mirarte se dilata
como una profecía; se descorre cual velo
paulatino; se acendra como miel; se aquilata
como la entraña de las piedras finas;
y se aguza como el llavín
de la celda de amor de un monasterio en ruinas.
Tú no sabes la dicha refinada
que hay en huirte, que hay en el furtivo gozo
de adorarte furtivamente, de cortejarte
más allá de la sombra, de bajarse el embozo
una vez por semana, y exponer las pupilas,
en un minuto fraudulento,
a la mancha de púrpura de tu deslumbramiento.
En el bosque de amor, soy cazador furtivo;
te acecho entre dormidos y tupidos follajes,
como se acecha una ave fúlgida; y de estos viajes
por la espesura, traigo a mi aislamiento
el más fúlgido de los plumajes:
el plumaje de púrpura de tu deslumbramiento.
c. 1916
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