lunes, 16 de marzo de 2009
miércoles, 11 de marzo de 2009
Mr. Death
"All along the watchtower, princes kept the view
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."
Bob Dylan- All along the watchtower
11 de marzo de 2009, los jinetes cabalgan sin miedo en busca de fortuna. Su bandera,la naturaleza del ser humano.
Un joven de 17 años asesina a nueve alumnos y tres profesores en un instituto en alemania. Un hombre acribilla a tiros a tres personas en un centro de salud de Murcia.
Los tiempos están cambiando un día dijo un trobador, hombres con hombres, suicidios, drogas, guerras, dinero. Sí, los tiempos están cambiando.
Niños coreanos trabajan en unos campos de trabajo. En China el abuso de drogas ha crecido de forma exponencial. China es una sociedad desarrollada gracias a los Juegos Olímpicos. Al menos los coreanos tienen sus bailes.
12 de marzo de 2009, jovenes de toda Europa se manifiestan contra los Pactos de Bolonia. No faltarán la marihuana, las anfetaminas, los cócteles molotov, los ipods y las banderas de la república.
19 de marzo de 2009, Valencia arderá, pero el fuego no se la llevará detrás. Se esperan cientos de heridos por quemaduras. Irak arde desde las 7:00 AM, un hombre bomba entró en una guardería.
Los grandes empresarios de la pornografía han pedido ayuda a Barack Obama. Argumentan las ventas de productos pornográficos han decaído. La cocaína sigue siendo boliviana y la mesa de Blackjack está llena.
En Guantánamo un hombre escucha la misma canción durante 25 horas. El terrorismo es una amenaza, la tortura la única solución.
En Darfur un niño de 9 años viola a su propia hermana. Su arma favorita es una kalashnikov del año 1984, aunque prefiere el cuchillo, le gusta el color de la sangre, le recuerda a su superhéroe favorito.
Los mísiles apuntan directamente a Europa.En un enfretamiento entre Oriente y Occidente. Irán y Estados Unidos no lo dudarían, Francia sería la primera en caer.
Todo es una broma pesada y yo soy el comediante.
While all the women came and went, barefoot servants, too.
Outside in the distance a wildcat did growl,
Two riders were approaching, the wind began to howl."
Bob Dylan- All along the watchtower
11 de marzo de 2009, los jinetes cabalgan sin miedo en busca de fortuna. Su bandera,la naturaleza del ser humano.
Un joven de 17 años asesina a nueve alumnos y tres profesores en un instituto en alemania. Un hombre acribilla a tiros a tres personas en un centro de salud de Murcia.
Los tiempos están cambiando un día dijo un trobador, hombres con hombres, suicidios, drogas, guerras, dinero. Sí, los tiempos están cambiando.
Niños coreanos trabajan en unos campos de trabajo. En China el abuso de drogas ha crecido de forma exponencial. China es una sociedad desarrollada gracias a los Juegos Olímpicos. Al menos los coreanos tienen sus bailes.
12 de marzo de 2009, jovenes de toda Europa se manifiestan contra los Pactos de Bolonia. No faltarán la marihuana, las anfetaminas, los cócteles molotov, los ipods y las banderas de la república.
19 de marzo de 2009, Valencia arderá, pero el fuego no se la llevará detrás. Se esperan cientos de heridos por quemaduras. Irak arde desde las 7:00 AM, un hombre bomba entró en una guardería.
Los grandes empresarios de la pornografía han pedido ayuda a Barack Obama. Argumentan las ventas de productos pornográficos han decaído. La cocaína sigue siendo boliviana y la mesa de Blackjack está llena.
En Guantánamo un hombre escucha la misma canción durante 25 horas. El terrorismo es una amenaza, la tortura la única solución.
En Darfur un niño de 9 años viola a su propia hermana. Su arma favorita es una kalashnikov del año 1984, aunque prefiere el cuchillo, le gusta el color de la sangre, le recuerda a su superhéroe favorito.
Los mísiles apuntan directamente a Europa.En un enfretamiento entre Oriente y Occidente. Irán y Estados Unidos no lo dudarían, Francia sería la primera en caer.
Todo es una broma pesada y yo soy el comediante.
domingo, 8 de marzo de 2009
Desolation row
Maravillosa canción de Bob Dylan, donde la letra está por encima de la canción, donde escuchamos a un Dylan clásico, combinando multitud de historias de una forma maravillosa, con ese acento despreocupado, melancólico y sincero que hace deprimir hasta las piedras. Un maestro este tal Dylan.
Esta pieza pertenece al álbum "Highway 61 Revisited", que fue grabado en 1965.
Aquí tenemos una cover de la controvertida banda "My Chemical Romance". Que parece que han dejado de hacer un sonido emo-adolescente que aburre hasta el mísimisimo padre de la filosofía "EMOCORE" para hacer un sonido punk clásico(Es esto protopunk????). La canción pertenece a la banda sonora de la "película" "Watchmen", llevada al cine por un tal Zack Snyder. A decir de esta mierda, que de 10:43 minutos que dura la canción, la han pasado a unos 3:40 minutos, y ya hemos supuesto que Warner Bros music tiene mucho que ver en esto, en fin, ni si quiera respetan la ley de las versiones, "Siempre alargan unos cuantos minutos para hacer extraodinaria" (Vease la cover de frank zappa de "Stairway to heaven").
NOTA PARA ONANISTAS: Fijense en la segunda guitarra que entra en el minuto 2, tocando esos maravillosos acordes del himno estadounidense, se puede pedir algo más?.
Y después de esto,disfruten de la auténtica y maravillosa letra de Dylan:
Desolation row:
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
Esta pieza pertenece al álbum "Highway 61 Revisited", que fue grabado en 1965.
Aquí tenemos una cover de la controvertida banda "My Chemical Romance". Que parece que han dejado de hacer un sonido emo-adolescente que aburre hasta el mísimisimo padre de la filosofía "EMOCORE" para hacer un sonido punk clásico(Es esto protopunk????). La canción pertenece a la banda sonora de la "película" "Watchmen", llevada al cine por un tal Zack Snyder. A decir de esta mierda, que de 10:43 minutos que dura la canción, la han pasado a unos 3:40 minutos, y ya hemos supuesto que Warner Bros music tiene mucho que ver en esto, en fin, ni si quiera respetan la ley de las versiones, "Siempre alargan unos cuantos minutos para hacer extraodinaria" (Vease la cover de frank zappa de "Stairway to heaven").
NOTA PARA ONANISTAS: Fijense en la segunda guitarra que entra en el minuto 2, tocando esos maravillosos acordes del himno estadounidense, se puede pedir algo más?.
Y después de esto,disfruten de la auténtica y maravillosa letra de Dylan:
Desolation row:
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they're restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row
Cinderella, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he's moaning
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, my friend
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row
Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row
Now Ophelia, she's 'neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession's her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah's great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row
Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row
Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They're trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She's in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
"Have Mercy on His Soul"
They all play on penny whistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row
Across the street they've nailed the curtains
They're getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They're spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row"
Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row
Praise be to Nero's Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"Which Side Are You On?"
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain's tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row
Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the door knob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they're quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can't read too good
Don't send me no more letters no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row
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