In this town, we call home, everyone hail to the pumpkin song....

Gold Clothes.

Athena no Seinto

Pues que les dire.

Me encanta Nightwish. Canciones como "Sleeping Sun", "Wishmaster", "Nemo" "Over the Hills and Far Away" y su cover de "The Phantom of the Opera" tienen una calidad interpretativa que deleita mis oidos cada vez que las escucho. Parte de esa calidad proviene, creo yo, de la sinergia que existia entre la composición, la ejecución del grupo y la interpretación de su anterior vocalista, Tarja Turunen. Sin embargo, como muy a menudo sucede en los grupos, la vocalista deja la banda y decide emprender su camino como solista... en un género algo alejado de lo que manejaba (hasta cierto punto obvio, si deja el grupo es para un cambio). Que hace el grupo: busca una nueva vocalista y la encuentra. Aquí esta una muestra de su nuevo trabajo, la canción "Amaranth":




Y aquí, Nightwish con su anterior vocalista, interpretando "The Phantom of the Opera"



¿Qué puedo decir? NO HAY PUNTO DE COMPARACIÓN. Es una lástima que se hayan separado. Esto no significa que la nueva vocalista sea una mala cantante o que su interpretación lo sea, sino que en mi opinión, su voz no es tan fuerte, tan llena de matices y a la vez con una tesitura similar a la de la anterior vocalista. En fin, a ver como les va, tal vez solo sea cuestión de que se acoplen. Por otra parte, el video y la canción son buenos, no lo niego, pero no los disfruto, pensando en como se escucharía con el viejo Nightwish...

Wicked Little Town.

De la película y musical "Hedwig and the Angry Inch"




You know, the sun is in your eyes
And hurricanes and rains
Blacken cloudy skies

You're running up and down that hill
You turn it on and off at will
There's nothing here to thrill or bring you down
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

Oh Lady Luck has led you here
And they're so twisted up
They'll twist you up, I fear

They're pious, hateful, and devout
You're turning tricks 'til you're turned out
The wind so cold it burns
You're burning out and blowing 'round
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

The fates are vicious and they're cruel
You learn too late you've used
Two wishes
Like a fool

And then you're someone you are not
And Junction City ain't the spot
Remember Mrs. Lot and when she turned around
And if you've got no other choice
You know you can follow my voice
Through the dark turns and noise
Of this wicked little town

Is it any wonder

¡¡¡¡MUNDO VIDIOS!!!!!

Buena música. Buena letra.

Blog Action Day.

Interesante iniciativa a la cual me he decidido sumar. Aun para comunicar a mis 4 o 5 lectores algo que probablemente ya sepan, pero igual, he ya hice mi elección. Curiosamente, estos días se entrego el premio Nobel de la Paz y el acreedor a este fue el exvicepresidente de los Estados Unidos, Al Gore. A pesar de la polémica que ha surgido en torno al calentamiento global y el cambio climático, sobre si es cierto o no, hay  un punto muy importante. La contaminación daña al planeta. Al planeta como sistema y todos sus subsistemas, clima, procesos biológicos, seres vivientes. Independientemente del hecho de que se discuta o no el cambio climático, es un hecho que los procesos de contaminación conllevan a una degradación progresiva de la que nadie se salva. O mejor dicho, de la que nadie nos salvamos. Porque invariablemente, cualquier afectación a los sistemas y subsistemas de la naturaleza, independientemente de su magnitud aparente, terminará por afectarnos a nosotros como individuos y especies. ¿O es que acaso, los que vivimos en el hemisferio norte, no es hora ya de que empiece el frío de otoño que aún hace pocos años sentíamos?.

Nosotros, como únicos seres concientes y capaces de modificar el entorno, somos entonces, bajo esa definición, los únicos seres capaces de protegerlo y de restaurar en la medida de lo posible el daño hecho. Y no es necesario que vayamos a atarnos a un árbol a la selva del amazonas. Tampoco es necesarío ir a manifestarnos al polo norte. No, el gran poder que poseemos radica en acciones tan sencillas como apagar las luces que no necesitamos, utilizar hojas de papel reciclado, o reciclar nosotros mismos.

Acciones como estas son determinantes y bien podríamos recordar el famoso proverbio chino que siempre es mencionado cuando se hace referencia a la teoría del caos: "el aleteo de las alas de una mariposa se puede sentir al otro lado del mundo". Tal vez estas pequeñas acciones sean así, aleteos de mariposa...

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Extraño.

Estas fotos demuestran una de las situaciones por las que creo que por muchos simulacros que se realicen, siempre será, en momentos extremos, el miedo el que de la pauta. ¿Por qué lo digo? Basta mirar esto:


No me explico como es que su avión acaba de desplomarse sobre el mar o sobre un cuerpo de agua y la señora tiene toda la propiedad y decoro a la hora de sentarse (nunca hay que perder el glamour), permanecer sentada, ponerse el chaleco salvavidas y ponerselo al chilpayate, que ademas de todo parece que estuviera sedado y no se diera cuenta de que estan a punto de morir.





Y que tal esta imagen: caen las mascarillas para oxígeno en caso de despresurización del citado artefacto:
















"Ay hijito no podemos respirar, es por eso que tranquilamente tomo la mascarilla y me la coloco, se me hace que en casa tampoco te voy a dar oxígeno, parece que solo así estas calmado y sereno, ese oxígeno estímula demasiado".

Creo que estas indicaciones de seguridad deberían ser mas acordes a la realidad, tal vez así:

11 de Octubre

Dia 11 de Octubre...

Dos Años de sueño

Sueño del mapache.... Setecientos treinta dias y ciento cincuenta y un entradas hasta hoy...

Vaya contrastes....

And this also....

Because....25 five years of my life and still..
And also, because I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed...



25 years of my life and still
I'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
for a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
that the world was made up of this brotherhood of man
for whatever that means

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed
to get it all out what's in my head then I
I am feeling a little peculiar
And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
and I take deep breath
and I get real high
then I scream from the top of my lungs
what's goin' on

and I say hey... hey...
I say hey, what's goin' on
and I say hey... hey...
I said hey, what's goin' on

Oh, oooh...
Oh, oooh...

and I try, oh my God do I try
I try all the time
in this institution
and I pray, oh my God do I pray
I pray every single day
for a revolution

and so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in my bed
just to get it all out what's in my head then I
I am feeling a little peculiar
and so I wake in the morning and I step outside
and I take a deep breath then I get real high
then I scream from the top of my lungs
what's goin' on

and I say hey... hey...
I say hey, what's goin' on
and I say hey... hey...
I said hey, what's goin' on

and I say hey... hey...
I say hey, what's goin' on
and I say hey... hey...
I said hey, what's goin' on

Oh, oooh, oooh...

25 years of my life and still
I'm trying to get up that great big hill of hope
for a destination

Vidios y Vidios.

Primero este, que me recuerda situaciones, me encanta su música y me pone a pensar.




Dedicated to all the people that I can lend a hand in return for the grace that you gave me....for all the hope you brought me. For all of you that made my horrible days...a beautiful day...

Beautiful Day - U2

The heart is a bloom
Shoots up through the stony ground
There's no room
No space to rent in this town

You're out of luck
And the reason that you had to care
The traffic is stuck
And you're not moving anywhere

You thought you'd found a friend
To take you out of this place
Someone you could lend a hand
In return for grace

It's a beautiful day
Sky falls, you feel like
It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away

You're on the road
But you've got no destination
You're in the mud
In the maze of her imagination

You love this town
Even if that doesn't ring true
You've been all over
And it's been all over you

It's a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
It's a beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Teach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

See the world in green and blue
See China right in front of you
See the canyons broken by cloud
See the tuna fleets clearing the sea out
See the Bedouin fires at night
See the oil fields at first light
And see the bird with a leaf in her mouth
After the flood all the colors came out

It was a beautiful day
Don't let it get away
Beautiful day

Touch me
Take me to that other place
Reach me
I know I'm not a hopeless case

What you don't have you don't need it now
What you don't know you can feel it somehow
What you don't have you don't need it now
Don't need it now
Was a beautiful day

Another picture.

Fitting even more in the archetypic "tormented artist"

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Another song...

Phoenicoperus showed it and now, I write it down.


A veces llega un momento en que
te haces viejo de repente
sin arrugas en la frente
pero con ganas de morir
paseando por las calles
todo tiene igual color
siento que algo hecho en falta
no se si será el amor

Me despierto por la noches
entre una gran confusión
es tal la melancolía
que está acabando conmigo
siento que me vuelvo loco
y me sumerjo en el alcohol
las estrellas por la noche
han perdido su esplendor

He buscado en los desiertos
de la tierra del dolor
y no he hallado mas respuesta
que espejismos de ilusión
he hablado con las montañas
de la desesperación
y su respuesta era solo
el eco sordo de mi voz

Deep anger.

Deep anger and hate is what I feel. And it is extending to everything. Yes, I hate pretty much everything. And just as always. I am alone and by myself. I might need to stop worrying about other people. Because at the end, it's just me. Even the people I loved left me eventually. And fool of me, I am always there. Go to hell everybody then. And also, the good boy of me is over.

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Sigur Ros

Como mencioné en esta entrada, he aqui algo de este grupo islandés Sigur Ros.

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Nightfall

No sign of life did flicker
In floods of tears she cried
"All hope's lost it can't be undone
They're wasted and gone"

"Save me your speeches
I know (They blinded us all)
What you want
You will take it away from me
Take it and I know for sure
The light she once brought in
Is gone forevermore"

Like sorrowful seaguls they sang
"(We're) lost in the deep shades
The misty cloud brought
(A wailing when beauty was gone
Come take a look at the sky)
Monstrous it covered the shore
Fearful into the unknown"
Quietly it crept in new horror
Insanity reigned
And spilled the first blood
When the old king was slain

chorus:
Nightfall
Quietly crept in and changed us all
Nightfall
Quietly crept in and changed us all
Nightfall
Immortal land lies down in agony

"How long shall we
Mourn in the dark
the bliss and the beauty
Will not return
Say farewell to sadness and grief
Though long and hard the road may be"
But even in silence I heard the words
"An oath we shall swear
By the name of the one
Until the world's end
It can't be broken"

Just wondering how
I can still hear these voices inside

The doom of the Noldor drew near

The words of a banished king
"I swear revenge"
Filled with anger aflamed our hearts
Full of hate full of pride
We screamed for revenge

chorus

"Vala he is that's what you said
Then your oath's been sworn in vain
(But) freely you came and
You freely shall depart
(So) never trust the northern winds
Never turn your back on friends"

"Oh I'm heir of the high lord!"
"You better don't trust him"
The enemy of mine
Isn't he of your kind and
Finally you may follow me
Farewell
He said

chorus

Back to where it all began

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Definitions.

Weary:

feeling or showing tiredness, esp. as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep : he gave a long, weary sigh. See note at tired . • reluctant to see or experience any more of; tired of : she was weary of their constant arguments | [in combination ] war-weary Americans. • calling for a great amount of energy or endurance; tiring and tedious : the weary journey began again.

Sorrow:

a feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or other misfortune suffered by oneself or others : he understood the sorrow and discontent underlying his brother's sigh. • an event or circumstance that causes such a feeling : it was a great sorrow to her when they separated. • the outward expression of grief; lamentation.

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The Origin of Love....

When the earth was still flat,
And the clouds made of fire,
And mountains stretched up to the sky,
Sometimes higher,
Folks roamed the earth
Like big rolling kegs.
They had two sets of arms.
They had two sets of legs.
They had two faces peering
Out of one giant head
So they could watch all around them
As they talked; while they read.
And they never knew nothing of love.
It was before the origin of love.

The origin of love

And there were three sexes then,
One that looked like two men
Glued up back to back,
Called the children of the sun.
And similar in shape and girth
Were the children of the earth.
They looked like two girls
Rolled up in one.
And the children of the moon
Were like a fork shoved on a spoon.
They were part sun, part earth
Part daughter, part son.

The origin of love

Now the gods grew quite scared
Of our strength and defiance
And Thor said,
"I'm gonna kill them all
With my hammer,
Like I killed the giants."
And Zeus said, "No,
You better let me
Use my lightening, like scissors,
Like I cut the legs off the whales
And dinosaurs into lizards."
Then he grabbed up some bolts
And he let out a laugh,
Said, "I'll split them right down the middle.
Gonna cut them right up in half."
And then storm clouds gathered above
Into great balls of fire

And then fire shot down
From the sky in bolts
Like shining blades
Of a knife.
And it ripped
Right through the flesh
Of the children of the sun
And the moon
And the earth.
And some Indian god
Sewed the wound up into a hole,
Pulled it round to our belly
To remind us of the price we pay.
And Osiris and the gods of the Nile
Gathered up a big storm
To blow a hurricane,
To scatter us away,
In a flood of wind and rain,
And a sea of tidal waves,
To wash us all away,
And if we don't behave
They'll cut us down again
And we'll be hopping round on one foot
And looking through one eye.

Last time I saw you
We had just split in two.
You were looking at me.
I was looking at you.
You had a way so familiar,
But I could not recognize,
Cause you had blood on your face;
I had blood in my eyes.
But I could swear by your expression
That the pain down in your soul
Was the same as the one down in mine.
That's the pain,
Cuts a straight line
Down through the heart;
We called it love.
So we wrapped our arms around each other,
Trying to shove ourselves back together.
We were making love,
Making love.
It was a cold dark evening,
Such a long time ago,
When by the mighty hand of Jove,
It was the sad story
How we became
Lonely two-legged creatures,
It's the story of
The origin of love.
That's the origin of love.

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