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verba volant, scripta manent tempus fugit 2008 01 2007 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 2006 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 2005 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 2004 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 2003 12 11 10 09 08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 2002 12 11 10 09   Check me out! audioscrobbler my del.icio.us 
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sexta-feira, novembro 29, 2002
"To regret one´s own experience is to arrest one´s own development. To deny one´s own experience is to put a lie into the lips of one´s own life. It is no less than a denial of the soul". Oscar Wilde, De Profundis. "There are times when Sorrow seems to me to be the only truth. Other things may be illusions of the eye or the appetite, made to blind the one and cloy the other, but out of Sorrow have the worlds been built, at the birth of a child or a star, there is pain." Oscar Wilde, De Profundis. quarta-feira, novembro 27, 2002
A entrevista com os Racionais MCs, exibida pelo Yo! (MTV) semana passada entrou para a História da, digamos, cultura brasileira. Se não fosse pela própria entrevista, coisa rara em se tratando dos Racionais, algumas frases foram simplesmente antológicas, como essas, do Mano Brown: - "Pros pretos, no Brasil, a solução é falar "não". É se impor, não aceitar qualquer coisa. Não entrar no jogo dos caras". - "Eles têm de capitalizar, em forma de dinheiro, o nosso espírito. Eles têm o dom de fazer tudo virar moda. Tudo na mão deles vira moda. A mídia tem esse dom de deixar tão popular que perde a essência". -“O DJ bom pra mim é o que deixa a música rolar e não me atrapalha”. Mas as melhores de todas foram essas; primeiro Ice Blue: - “Os caras ficam que nem cientista maluco, querendo estudar todos os baratos que a gente fala, as entrevistas”. E por fim, Mano Brown... - “Cada favelado é um universo em crise”. ! terça-feira, novembro 26, 2002
..."Fiz de mim o que não soube, E o que podia fazer de mim não o fiz. O dominó que vesti era errado. Conheceram-me logo por quem não era e não desmenti, e perdi-me. Quando quis tirar a máscara, Estava pegada à cara. Quando a tirei e me vi ao espelho, Já tinha envelhecido. Estava bêbado, já não sabia vestir o dominó que não tinha tirado. Deitei fora a máscara e dormi no vestiário Como um cão tolerado pela gerência Por ser inofensivo E vou escrever esta história para provar que sou sublime" ... Álvaro de Campos segunda-feira, novembro 25, 2002
"Há porcos que repugnam a sua própria porcaria, mas se não afastam dela, por aquele mesmo extremo de um sentimento , pelo qual o apavorado se não afasta do perigo. Há porcos de destino, como eu, que se não afastam da banalidade quotidiana por essa mesma atracção da própria impotência. São aves fascinadas pela ausência de serpente; moscas que pairam nos troncos sem ver nada, até chegarem ao alcance viscoso da língua do camaleão. Assim passeio lentamente a minha inconsciência consciente, no meu tronco de árvore do usual. Assim passei o meu destino que anda, pois eu não ando; o meu tempo que segue, pois eu não sigo." Fernando Pessoa sexta-feira, novembro 22, 2002
É de Emma Clarke a voz nas linhas Victoria, Bakerloo e Central, do metrô de Londres. Aqui há uma excelente entrevista com ela. I always have a childish chuckle when you says "the next station is oval". What stations amuse you? (Fuzzbucket) Theydon Bois. My, how we laughed. Actually, you should have heard the multiplicity of ways they made me say ‘Marylebone.’ Mahree-lee-bone. M’ree-labbon. Mary Lob-on. It was bleeding hilarious. Enquanto isso, no trabalho... procrastinação . [Do lat. procrastinatione.] S. f. 1. Ato ou efeito de procrastinar; adiamento, delonga. (Fonte: Aurélio) quinta-feira, novembro 21, 2002
"Sem prazeres, objetivos, atividades e ambições, com a vida à minha frente terminada e com a consciência da dor que causo a meus pais, minha felicidade é muito pequena". Marcel Proust, aos 30 anos. Por mais que eu durma, não parece suficiente. Acordo exausto. Não consigo me levantar. I´m not ready. segunda-feira, novembro 18, 2002
Mellow Doubt Teenage Fanclub It gives me pain, when I think of you And the things together that we'll never do At first it's code, and then it's hot Tried to be someone that I know I'm not I'm in trouble, and I know it How I'm feeling, I can't show it But these feelings, don't go away I remember you, lines on your face. Sharing a moment in the perfect place. I'm deep in your eyes, and inside your head. And I try to reach you, when I'm in my bed. I'm in trouble, and I know it How I'm feeling, I can't show it But these feelings, don't go away There is no choice, in what I must do. Nothing is greater than to be with you. I'm in trouble, and I know it How I'm feeling, I can't show it But these feelings, don't go away I Need Direction Teenage Fanclub I used to feel fine you were to be mine I need direction to take me to you I've asked the sunshine shadowed the skyline I need direction to take me to you I get brainwaves I get visions slow reaction superstition I need the ways and means to get through I need an open heart to look to nobody sees the same way I do I need direction to get through followed the ley lines the faded out road signs I need direction to take me to you I get spellbound I get visions slow advances indecision I need the ways and means to get through I need an open heart to look to nobody sees the same way I do I need direction to get through Honest I'd feel fine if you were to be mine I need direction to take me to you Recebi um panfleto de um restaurante enquanto caminhava pela avenida Ipiranga (centro de São Paulo). Lá, o "comercial" ("arroz, feijão, salada + mistura") custa R$ 2,20. Agora o que me chamou mesmo a atenção no menu foi a parte das, digamos, bebidas. Está lá, exatamente assim: "Pingas/Cafezinhos: 0,30; cerveja 600 ml a partir 1,60; galão de água: 2,50". Waal! Em um mesmo ano, Lula presidente e Palmeiras na segunda divisão... eu realmente nunca imaginei que viveria para ver isso. quinta-feira, novembro 14, 2002
Eu não tenho saudade dos anos 80. ... Mas tenho saudade de sentir o cheiro de LP novinho em folha. Comprado na WOP BOP (que tinha envelopes formidáveis) ou na Bossa Nova, de preferência. Aliás passo frequentemente em frente ao local onde ficava a WOP BOP e nem sempre me dou conta disso. O que foi feito do lugar mesmo?
quarta-feira, novembro 13, 2002
All We Ever Wanted Was Everything Bauhaus All we ever wanted was everything All we ever got was cold Get up, eat jelly Sandwich bars, and barbed wire Squash every week into a day The sound of drums is calling The sound of the drum has called Flash of youth shoot out of darkness Factorytown Oh to be the cream repeat The Sad Punk Black Francis (p) 1991 4-A-D I smell smoke That comes from a gun Named extinction It was so long ago Could have happened to anyone He was struck by a bullet And he melted into fluid Named extinction Named extinction One thousand miles an hour I'm just like anyone I want to feel the road of tar Beneath the wheel Named extinction And evolving from the sea Would not be too much time for me To walk beside you in the sun I read something About a son of a gun Named extinction "Tribute to the Phone Calls" Silver Scooter From Orleans Parish LP/CD (Peek-A-Boo) I don't want to get up, i'm not ready just because my desire to sleep until i'm ready to i don't want to wake up, i'm not able just because my desire to sleep until i'm able to tonight i'm by the phone and i'm listening for your dial tone and you call and i'm caught in a dream it's a struggle to react to your sweet voice on my tape machine so lay back try to relax you'll be mine in the morning time. segunda-feira, novembro 11, 2002
Sick Of Goodbyes Sparklehorse if I could just keep my stupid mind together then my thoughts would cross the land for you to see no one sees you on a vampire planet no one sees you like I do seconds click in which I'm changed to dust whithered roots of knots and hairy rust no one sees you on a vampire planet no one sees you like I do I'm so sick of goodbyes, goodbyes I'm so sick of goodbyes, goodbyes goodbyes the night comes crawling in on all fours sucking up my dreams through the floor I'm so sick I'm so sick of goodbyes I'm so sick of goodbyes, goodbyes I'm so sick of goodbyes, goodbyes I'm so sick, so sick, so sick of goodbyes, goodbyes so, I'm so sick OK, então agora vou tentar suar um pouco pra ver se algum pão (líquido, de preferência) resulta disto. "Sem trabalho, sem horário de serviço, o homem não se sente mais homem, vira animal, desajusta-se por completo". Dostoievski, em "Recordações da Casa dos Mortos". "E a Adão disse: Visto que atendeste a voz de tua mulher e comeste da árvore que eu te ordenara não comesses, maldita é a terra por tua causa; em fadigas obterás dela o sustento durante os dias de tua vida. Ela produzirá também cardos e abrolhos, e tu comerás a erva do campo. No suor do rosto comerás o teu pão, até que tornes à terra, pois dela foste formado; porque tu és pó e ao pó tornarás". (Gênesis. 3:14-19) Nossa chefe acaba de informar a demissão de um dos nossos colegas. Quantos anos de dedicação a esta empresa? Quantos anos desperdiçados nesse cotidiano sem sentido? Talvez algo tenha feito sentido pra ele nisso tudo. Talvez ele tenha se divertido em alguns momentos. Quero crer. Próximo de obter sua aposentadoria, o que ele fará agora? Ainda mais considerando que, imagino, esse trabalho era parte tão fundamental na sua realidade. Eu pediria pra ser demitido, se não estivesse tão endividado e se tivesse alguma outra opção. Na verdade a escolha nobre seria me oferecer, mesmo sem opção alguma. Mas vence meu lado covarde e mesquinho, vence a autopreservação do funcionário de escritório, cotidiano e tributável, que recebe a mensagem e continua cumprindo suas tarefas, pensando nas dívidas pra pagar, esperando a sua vez. Todo dia eu só penso em poder parar Meio-dia só penso em dizer não Então penso na vida pra levar e me calo com a boca de feijão. Agora somos uma equipe de quatro pessoas. O silêncio vai ser ainda maior. Para os que sobreviverem, 2003 vai ser o horror. quinta-feira, novembro 07, 2002
Seu Creysson para a Academia Brasileira de Letras: "Dedíquio esse lívrio a Tia Frávia, minha professoria de nalfabetização. Foi élia qui me nalfabetizou! Quer dizer, eu achio que éria, porque élia só batia o pôntio e ia si emboria pra casia. Mas íssel faz tântio têmpio qui Seu Creysson aindia nem tinha équio"! Prefácio de "Seu Creysson - Vídia i Óbria". Já teve vontade de entrar no escritório com uma serra elétrica detonando tudo e todos que encontra pelo caminho? Conheça Skullkid. quarta-feira, novembro 06, 2002
The meaning of life Why are we here, what is life all about? Is God really real, or is there some doubt? Well tonight we're going to sort it all out, For tonight it's the Meaning of Life. What's the point of all these hoax? Is it the chicken and egg time, are we all just yolks? Or perhaps, we're just one of God's little jokes, Well ca c'est the Meaning of Life. Is life just a game where we make up the rules While we're searching for something to say Or are we just simple spiralling coils Of self-replicating DNA? What is life? What is our fate? Is there Heaven and Hell? Do we reincarnate? Is mankind evolving or is it too late? Well tonight here's the Meaning of Life. For millions this life is a sad vale of tears Sitting round with really nothing to say While scientists say we're just simply spiralling coils Of self-replicating DNA. So just why, why are we here? And just what, what, what, what do we fear? Well ce soir, for a change, it will all be made clear, For this is the Meaning of Life - c'est le sens de la vie - This is the Meaning of Life. terça-feira, novembro 05, 2002
Goodbye Silver Scooter I wanna live in another town Uh-huh And feel the concrete Freshly flowing over my feet Uh-huh 'Cuz I know I'm not original Or even typical And I know I'm not cynical I leave that all by the wayside Bye bye So when I move to the big city Uh-huh I'll feel the concrete Stuck over my feet Mmm-hmm So when I move to the big sky country Uh-huh I'll stop messing around With my feelings And my friends' feelings 'Cuz I know I'm not original Or even typical And I know I'm not cynical I leave that all by the wayside Bye bye Bye bye Goodbye Silver Scooter The Blue Law (Peek-A-Boo) Some bands seem to come out of nowhere as instant superstars, while others linger for years without making the leap beyond their cult confines. For the past several years, Austin's Silver Scooter eked out a fine existence in the latter category, but the band offers such a beguiling brand of pop music that its status as a well-kept secret simply boggles the mind. A guitar act anchored to the same rhythmic base that propelled New Order—in this case, Tom Hudson's machinelike beats, John Hunt's strummed Rickenbacker bass, and new member Shawn Camp on keyboards—Silver Scooter sticks to that band's disarmingly simple formula of somber minor-key anthems buoyed by wonderful little hooks and charmingly lackadaisical vocals. (A recent EP even featured a note-perfect cover of New Order's "Run.") In Silver Scooter's case, singer Scott Garred's lazy drawl keeps the songs down-to-earth, though the band has otherwise pared down its arrangements and polished its sound to a brilliant sheen. "Goodbye," "Albert Hall," and "The Long Way" all carry their melodies on Hunt's bass, while the mellow "Blue Law" tempers its mood with Garred's gee-whiz lyrics about beer. The up-tempo "Black Stars" would fit perfectly on New Order's Technique, though the power ballad (!) "Dirty Little Bar" seems more in line with Peter Hook's New Order-lite side project Monaco. The latter half of The Blue Law is a bit more subtle, with "Remembering" (one of the few tracks with an actual drum machine) and "On The Mark" subtly exhibiting a taste for bar-band country. All throughout, Garred's vocals keep the music from becoming too Britpop precious, though the band probably chose the dramatic synth cheese decorating "Crash" for just that reason. But where Silver Scooter's Orleans Parish seemed satisfied with the modest rules of indie-rock, The Blue Law finds the band busting out a bit. Its accessible style shift might just be the key to its success, as the effortless pop pull of the disc's 10 songs ultimately proves irresistible. —Joshua Klein Supla quase apanha em show punk Jornal da Tarde - Você se considera um punk? Supla - (bravo) O que você conhece do movimento punk? Nada, meu! Quem acha que ser punk é ser um cara f...., desempregado... Mas ser punk é muito mais: é um conceito, uma energia, tem uma parte sexual e me identifico. Minha carreira vai muito bem, obrigado. Lanço meu novo CD em novembro, 'Político e Pirata', nas bancas a R$ 12,90. Além disso, a venda das minhas roupas na Riachuelo vão muito bem. Sou um cara bem-sucedido. yelling yelling yelling yelling yelling yelling All My Life Foo Fighters All my life I've been searching for something Something never comes never leads to nothing Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close Closer to the prize at the end of the rope All night long I dream of the day When it comes around then it's taken away Leaves me with the feeling that I feel the most The feeling comes to life when I see your ghost Come down don't you resist You have such a delicate wrist And if I give it a twist Something to hold when I lose my breath Will I find something in that So give me just what I need Another reason to bleed One by one hidden up my sleeve One by one hidden up my sleeve Hey don't let it go to waste I love it but I hate the taste Weight keeping me down Will I find a believer Another one who believes Another one to deceive Over and over down on my knees If I get any closer And if you open up wide And if you let me inside On and on I've got nothing to hide On and on I've got nothing to hide Hey don't let it go to waste I love it but I hate the taste Weight keeping me down All my life I've been searching for something Something never comes never leads to nothing Nothing satisfies but I'm getting close Closer to the prize at the end of the rope All night long I dream of the day When it comes around then it's taken away Leaves me with the feeling that I feel the most The feeling comes to life when I see your ghost And I'm done, done and I'm under the next one Hey don't let it go to waste I love it but I hate the taste Weight keeping me down Done done and under the next one Done I'm done and I'm under the next segunda-feira, novembro 04, 2002
Festival em Curitiba em 2003 com White Stripes, Strokes, Wilco, Idlewild, Foo Fighters, Hives e Radiohead? Conta outra. Título de texto na Folha sobre o livro de Palomino, em novembro de 1999: "Deus criou a noite e... Erika Palomino criou o 'BABADO FORTE' ". Duh. E o livro do Amaury Jr. saiu pela editora Elevação, que publica obras de José de Paiva Netto, Diretor-Presidente da Legião da Boa Vontade, LBV. Entre elas, "Apocalipse sem medo" e "Cidadania do Espírito". Outro autor a ser destacado é o Dr. Bezerra de Menezes (1831-1900), que escreveu "Fluidos de Paz" e "Fluidos de Luz". Há uma livraria na Rua 24 de maio na qual, há meses, o livro da Erika Palomino, "Babado forte" (ou coisa que o valha) está em promoção. Há uma pilha deles, com mais de 20 exemplares, a R$ 4,90, cada. Na pilha ao lado, "Flash Fora do Ar", de Amaury Jr, pelo mesmo preço. Se tivesse dinheiro compraria ambos. Devem ser engraçados. "I think the enemy of creativity in the world today is that so much thinking is done for you. The environment is so full of television, party political broadcasts and advertising campaigns, you hardly need to do anything". "For most of my working life as a professional, which began over 40 years ago, what kick-started the day was a large scotch and soda". J.G. Ballard, The Observer Magazine. Why he died before he got old Kurt Cobain was adored, addicted and angry - the rest of the rock myth followed from there. Pete Townshend suffers as he plumbs the depths of Cobain's despair in his Journals Novelty Joy Division When the people listen to you don't you know it means a lot 'cos you've got to work so hard for everything you've got Can't rest on your laurels now Not when you've got none You'll find yourself in a gutter Right back where you came from Someone told me being in the know is the main thing We all need the security that belonging brings Can't stand on your own in these times against all the odds You all just fall behind like all the other sods You slap your back and pretend you knew About all the things that we were gonna do What ya gonna do, what ya gonna do when it's over? You're all on your own now, don't you think that's a shame But you're the only one responsible to take the blame So what ya gonna do when the novelty has gone Yeah, what ya gonna do when the novelty has gone You slap your backs and pretend you knew About all the things we were gonna do What ya gonna do, what ya gonna do When it's over? Something must break Joy Division Two ways to choose On a razors edge Remain behind Go straight ahead Room full of people, room for just one If I can't break out now, the time just won't come Two ways to choose Which way to go Decide for me Please let me know Looked in the mirror, saw I was wrong If I could get back to where I belong, where I belong Two ways to choose Which way to go Had thoughts for one Designs for both But we were immortal, we were not there Washed up on the beaches, struggling for air I see your face still in my window Torments yet calms, won't set me free Something must break now This life isn't mine Something must break now Wait for the time Something must break. Passover Joy Division This is a crisis I knew had to come Destroying the balance I'd kept Doubting, unsettling and turning around Wondering what will come next Is this the role that you wanted to live? I was foolish to ask for so much Without the protection and infancy's guard It all falls apart at first touch Watching the reel as it comes to a close Brutally taking its time People who change for no reason at all It's happening all of the time Can I go on with this train of events? Disturbing and purging my mind Back out of my duties, when all's said and done I know that I'll lose every time Moving along in our God given ways Safety is sat by the fire Sanctuary from these feverish smiles Left with a mark on the door Is this the gift that I wanted to give? Forgive and forget's what they teach Or pass through the deserts and wastelands once more And watch as they drop by the beach This is the crisis I knew had to come Destroying the balance I'd kept Turning around to the next set of lives Wondering what will come next. sexta-feira, novembro 01, 2002
"O fenômeno Lula só pode ser bem compreendido por quem o vê na rua. Não me refiro apenas aos comícios, às caminhadas ou aos desfiles em carro aberto, mas também às saídas dos hotéis onde se hospeda, aos saguões dos aeroportos por onde passa e aos restaurantes onde pára para comer. Ou seja: tanto nos eventos oficiais da campanha presidencial como nos encontros fortuitos de Lula com seus eleitores, a mesma intensidade está lá". João Moreira Salles - aqui. |
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