8.31.2008

Music: Midnight Resistance - Remote

Oh, if you're into synthpop you're going to love this. It's been some time where a new release came along, and I've listen to the whole thing through without hitting "frwd" button. Midnight Resistance offered such a lovely spoiler this season, it made me want to run to my closet and get all my club wear out that's been collecting dust (guilty) for some time. Ah, the album is amazing, there's none of that corniness. They have found this unique sound however, it is reminiscent of all those tracks we so love to love from and one, apoptygma berzerk, camouflage, etc.. Germans have done it again! Kudos!!

Midnight Resistance official website
"Remote" on amazon.com

8.24.2008

one art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-Elizabeth Bishop

8.23.2008

Candles and Diamonds

from writings of Rav Ashlag


Long ago, there was a poor candle maker named Jacob. He heard of a mysterious island where diamonds were as common as ordinary pebbles. So Jacob left his home and set out for the nearest seaport. There he learned the the island of diamonds really did exists, but he would have to hurry. A boat sailed to the island only once every seven years, and it was leaving immediately! So Jacob rushed aboard.


When he arrived on the island, he found that what he'd heard was all true! Diamonds were everywhere, like sand on the seashore. Falling to his knees, Jacob began filling his bags with the glittering gems, dreaming of how rich he was going to be back home.


Just then, however, one of the inhabitants of the island approached him. "You're wasting your time filling your bags with those worthless pebbles, " said the newcomer. "Since you're going to be here for seven years, you'd better have a way to support yourself. Do you have a trade?"


"Why, I'm a candlemaker, " said Jacob.


"Very well. Then you'd better start making candles."


That is exactly what Jacob did, and very soon he had a thriving business. In fact, since there were no other candlemakers to compete with, he became the most important man on the island. Almost before Jacob knew it, seven years had passed - and one day the boat arrived.


So Jacob hurriedly packed up all his possessions and jumped on board. When he returned home his family eagerly looked at his suitcases and then stared at Jacob in amazement. "Where is all the treasure?" asked his wife and children. "You were gone for seven years, and all you've brought back is a bunch of candles!"


Jacob just laughed. Didn't they understand? Candles had made him an important man on the island! But as he opened his mouth to speak, the truth suddenly dawned on him. He had forgotten the purpose for which he's gone to the island - and now he had nothing more valuable than when he left.

8.21.2008

Over the hill




Intervention. Divine. Film. Music. Intraconnection. Truffaut. Moreau. Monika. The hill. Over the hill. Franz. An ape's way out. The academy. A report to it. Movies as novels. Novels as songs. Harmonic-black&white-chapters.


Why? Tell me, why?

You don't call me anymore

Don't you want me anymore?


All she ever wanted was a way out. She never wanted freedom.


Jim: Either it's raining, or I'm dreaming.

Catherine: Maybe it's both.


Black, It's all black

It's the colour of my heart

It's the colour of my eyes


She never meant this great feeling of freedom on all sides. She never demanded freedom.


Jim: l always thought she was like Napoleon, she claims the world is rich and one can sometimes cheat a bit, but she first asks God for forgiveness sure that she'll get it


But I'm here, Yes I'm here

Everybody seems to mean so much

Everybody seems to think I'm fine


People all too often are deceived by freedom. And since freedom is reckoned among the most sublime feelings, the corresponding disappointment is also among the most sublime.


Catherine's plunge into the river so astonished Jim that he drew it the next day, though he didn't usually draw. Admiration for Catherine welled up in him and he sent her a kiss in his mind.


Late, It's too late

I am punishing myself

By admitting it's too late

Laugh, You may laugh

You can laugh at me for days

You may spit me if you want


No, she didn’t want freedom. Only a way out—to the right or left or anywhere at all. She made no other demands, even if the way out should be only an illusion.


Catherine: You said, "I love you," I said, "Wait." I was going to say, "Take me," you said, "Go away."


'Cause I'm here, I'm still here

Everybody seems to mean so much

Everybody seems to think I'm fine


The demand was small; the disappointment would not be any greater—to move on further, to move on further!


Jim: We played with life and lost.


Look at me, There were more to see

There were more to be proud of...


Only not to stand still with arms raised, pressed again a crate wall.


Catherine: Watch us well, Jules!



Song: Over the Hill by Monika
Video: Jules et Jim (1962) by Francois Truffaut
Text: A report to the Academy by Franz Kafka

8.12.2008

Orwell, a writer, a journalist ....a blogger??

"All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others".

Perhaps one of his most famous quotations.... Orwell's writing is timeless despite the fact that many claim that his works are dated by expired regimes. But as of today Gorge Orwell is listed in the ranks of the bloggers. The Orwell Prize has started a blogroll of his diaries to mark their 70th anniversary. The entries are added starting from August 9th. The only difference is really while the YYYY field should read 1938, it will be 2008.