O amor é uma viagem a Paris

No meu caso, a viagem de sonho não é exactamente a Paris, preferia o meu tour de France pelo sul, mas utilizo a visita a Paris para que a linguagem seja mais universal.
Há muitas maneiras de ir a Paris. Não é de todo impossível. Há quem vá à boleia, aos trambolhões num autocarro, ou em primeira classe. Há quem esteja disposto a dormir na rua, há quem ache que não vale a pena se não for em grande. Depende do grau de exigência do viajante.
E depois é uma questão de sorte. De oportunidade. De imponderáveis que não dependem de outra coisa senão do destino. Nas palavras da canção de Mike Oldfield, há quem nunca chegue a França. Mesmo quando a viagem está planeada, os bilhetes comprados, as camas reservadas. E de repente, puff! C'est fini. Até há quem morra no caminho.
Há quem nunca chegue a Paris.

Eh bien.

Nick Cave

Nick Cave tem um projecto novo chamado Grinderman.
Podem ouvir a canção de que vou falar Aqui.
Este post não é apenas sobre os Grinderman e como eu acho que pela amostra têm potencial para mais uma série de clássicos. Nick Cave está melhor do que nunca.
A música chama-se "no pussy blues" e é mais uma vez Nick Cave a explicar às mulheres a essência do ser masculino, no seu pior e no seu melhor, como só ele pode fazer. (E também os Violent Femmes, nos seus melhores momentos.)
Às vezes, Nick Cave até compreende as mulheres, se bem que ao de leve. Para compreendeer as mulheres eu aconselharia Miranda Sex Garden. Ou a alma gémea de Nick Cave, PJ Harvey.
O que faz de Nick Cave um homem extraordinário é essa capacidade de descrever as suas necessidades ao sexo oposto (geralmente os homens não têm capacidade verbal para tanto) e fazê-lo com poesia!!! Às vezes chocante por ser tão honesto, mas eu gosto de honestidade. Gosto que um homem me diga "eu preciso de sexo" em vez de andar às voltas e voltinhas e a amuar e a arranjar discussões "around the bush", como se diz em americano e não tem nada a ver com o presidente. Como é maravilhosa uma boa dose de honestidade, principalmente se vem com poesia atrás. Palavras para quê? Gosto muito dele.
Ainda me lembro daqueles 50 euros que custaram o concerto dele no CCB, concerto a que eu não pude ir. Há quem precise de sexo, há quem precise de dinheiro. E depois, como nota fora do contexto, quem é que pensa em sexo quando tem a barriga vazia e o gás está caro para tomar banho todos os dias e...

Onde isto foi parar. Parar é a palavra de ordem. Paremos.

Para ler com muita, muita atenção

Repito: para ler com muita, muita atenção, e ter em conta que por vezes o autor está a ser sarcástico. É preciso um grande domínio do inglês para perceber por isso não se fiquem pelas entrelinhas. Leiam mesmo com atenção.

Imagem e texto chegou-me através de alguém a quem chegou através de email e que passou para mim. Não conheço a origem da imagem nem do texto mas penso que são ambos pertinentes para este preciso momento da vida do movimento.

"Regardless of individual artists, neo-folk is now so riddled with Nazi undertones it must not be allowed to slip by unchallenged. (Personally, I have a strict editing policy; send me neo-folk records and they go in the bin.) Genuine artists in the neo scene can move sideways into other scenes and be seen to be blameless. The rest can rot.
Everything to do with Nazis is the complete opposite of Goth, which stands for the soppier side of romantic imagery and on its deeper side it’s the rights and dignity and intelligence of the individual. It isn’t something that follows a Master Plan.
Nazism creeps into scenes every few years, sometimes because Nazis themselves are desperately trying to sow the seeds, still unaware their perverted ideals (sic) represent an extreme of humanity; these ideals will only catch on with the barbarically stupid (ensuring its popularity within the skinhead fraternity), but also with Goths (or participants of other scenes) who think themselves ultra-cool, uber-cred, when in fact they are cowards and deserve to be ostracised.
It belongs to people who are essentially dim but think they’re clever. That is how you tell them apart. They will post on forums or even contribute to certain fanzines with low editorial principles, and always end their efforts about how wearing Nazi insignia has got them into trouble, by saying “I guess censorship still lives, eh?” or when suggesting they are only clothes, “still, it’s an interesting point, no?” as though they have sailed single-handedly into new uncharted waters of morality, making points that people need to consider with great time and consideration.
And when they do post on forums, people dread getting involved. The last time I saw it was on a forum was last year where two complete imbeciles, one in the UK and one in Australia, were trying to defend their actions. One had got into trouble for wearing the swastika in school, and claimed as their defence that they didn’t know what it was. If they’re so stupid that by 16 they don’t know what the swastika represents, there’s no hope for them anyway. Then if they didn’t know, why did they put it on? Maybe they sometimes go in wearing an old man’s underwear on their head. “No idea what this is, but it’s an interesting point, no?”
The other was a wanker in this country who had been in trouble in the streets because of his insignia and shirt. “It’s only clothes,” he protested, giving off heroic overtones about the stance he took for personal liberty.
With clothes, it’s perfectly ludicrous. You’re just play-acting your own fantasies of superiority. You think you’re being shocking and decadent by being the one brave enough to pull on a Nazi shirt and wear your little skull and crossbones badge. You think Death In June are whiter than white (oops!) and you can enter the secretive world of neo-folk without a blemish on your character because you’re an explorer, an adventurer.
You’re a total twat, and friends should evaporate to leave you to your own real self-discovery, that you have no worth in a scene, that you have a contempt for others. The association of Nazi imagery is so strong it isn’t just clothes. It is iconic of the worst hatreds and crimes imaginable, and when you pull on the Nazi clothes you’re agreeing with it.
If not, then why is it that when people mention how cool Nazi outfits look, and that the combination of black, red and white just looks great and has nothing to do with the Nazi ethos, that whenever I point out certain horse artillery units of both the British and Canadian armies used exactly the same colour schemes but without looking like neutered monsters, that nobody seems to want to dash off and buy those outfits from army surplus? Hmmmm? And how come they stop answering threads on forums when their arguments shrivel? People try to defend their sick interests by claiming they’re just clothes when they have only one association, of horror and degradation and genocide. They’re not Just Clothes.
If you wear Nazi gear, in any way, without having the guts to declare you are a Nazi, then you are worse than a Nazi. You empathise with them on an unconscious level, but you haven’t the guts to the full way. Anyone sensible loathes the very idea of these people, but at least with genuine Nazi skinheads you now where you stand. Either on their head, or well out of reach, depending on the situation.
Oh, and one other recent example tried to excuse the wearing of a full SS outfit inside Fetish clubs on the grounds that this is understood roleplay between both parties. This can be dealt with quick and easy. This shows a callous disregard for other people, because before parading themselves in public like that, for their own enjoyment, have they stopped to consider they might genuinely upset someone who lost a family member to the Nazi regime? That is nothing more than monumental arrogance (oh, just like the Nazis!)
It isn’t a big problem in the UK, that’s for sure. We have the far right growing because of the asylum issue running out of control; ours will die down again once the problem is stabilised. This sparked a rise in Germany in the late 80’s, but they’ve always had the problem. Hell, they nurtured it until it exploded, and since the war, the wounds have been constantly licked and allowed to fester once more.
In the States, skinhead gangs had the KKK to rely on as their “noble” tradition, and gleefully welcomed Nazi groups as a form of outreach groups of the brotherhood. But the real problem will always be in Germany and Scandinavia, where the Aryan myth and neo-folk draws from the pagan past and satiates the would-be Nazi with their very own primal scream therapy.
At a Treffen event (was it 2002?) some left-wingers attacked the neo-community at some performance. Ironically, the sound of baseball bats against Nazi bones was probably more rhythmical and melodious than the band involved, but when I had people contacting me to see what I thought, it was again noticeable that when I said I thought this was the perfect answer to the problem, the e-mails stopped. Clearly I was being courted as a potential spokesman! Wankers.
Nazis, particularly Himmler, were so into paganism and occult matters to prove their deluded Aryan theories they even invented a Pagan king of their own and claimed he was buried on German soil. They adopted all things Pagan; this cretinous liberation of legends still permeates the neo-folk scene which is something worth being uneasy about because of the way it has grown in size despite being, for the most part, where the singers who can’t sing go to masturbate. Where the old rightwing punks and the grubby, soulless, friendless, charmless “artistes” go to feel sophisticated.
I feel sorry for the genuine Pagan artists who have only their belief in genuine gentle Earth matters and their deities, and care nothing for the Nazi creed. They would be better off moving clearly into the folk scene. Neo-folk clearly implies it is about something else, and simply has too many dodgy associations. Even during the early 90’s there were Pagan fanzines in Germany using imagery that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a Nuremberg rally, and they dress it up by using Scandinavian touches, which is where their true Aryan visual ideal always lurked, and where you can tell if you’re dealing with a hardline Nazi because they’ll get excited mentioning Odin or oak leaves.
It is common sense to realise something disturbing lays beneath the surface when you find band with no songs, with no charisma, attracting people, and it is not acceptable to ignore the problem. If you see people wearing Nazi insignia at Goth clubs, confront them. If you sense friends who are too naïve to know better are being drawn into something you see as being dubious, tell them about it. It isn’t acceptable in the Goth scene, or any scene. Nazis would have Goths strung up, and you owe it to your self-respect not to let these things go by unchallenged. If you don’t, you’re allowing them to get away with thoughts and deeds and aspirations which are fundamentally ugly, which is probably explained quite easily.
The only reason people wanna flirt with Hitler is because nobody sensible wants to flirt with them."

Música de Hallloween (e não só)

Esta colectânea já vem tarde. Inclui músicas de que tenho falado aqui no blog e que estavam mais actualizadas por altura do Halloween (mas na altura ainda não sabia colar mp3 ;) .

Algumas músicas não estão muito completas e a gravação não é das melhores mas dá para conhecer e apreciar.
Enjoy.

Conteúdo:

??? - Kidneys, Liver, Gallbladder
Adrian Alexis - I want to be a vampire
34 Vampires - Blood In The Mix
Bloody, Dead & Sexy - Bloody Rose
Igor Spectre - Beautiful Dead Little Girl
Zombina and The Skeletones - Nobody Likes You When You're Dead
The Meteors - My Daddy Is A Vampire
New Math - They Walk Among You
Deadbolt - Billy's Dead
Skeletal Family - Trees
45 Grave - Riboflavin Flavored Noncarbonated Polyunsaturated Blood

Link

Última chamada

Tenho andado ausente, a trabalhar num projecto pessoal. Agora quero voltar à vida, se a vida ainda me quiser de volta. (Outro dia dei por mim a pensar se alguns de nós não seremos também demasiado sobrequalificados para esse trabalho em particular, mas essa seria outra história que não para este momento.) Já não tenho muito tempo. Dentro de meia dúzia de anos, estarei morta. Não digo "morta" no sentido literal, porque isso pode ser até mais cedo ou muito mais tarde, mas há uma altura na vida em que o velho cavalo de corrida acusa sinais de ter pela frente a última temporada, e depois, com alguma sorte, pode aspirar a uma vida tranquila de estábulo e manjedoura até ao resto dos seus dias... Mas sejamos francos. Quem nasceu para correr morre quando no dia em que as pernas páram.
Como é que eu vou fazer isto, voltar para a vida? Trago atrás de mim a vergonha como uma sombra... Não foi fácil conformar-me com isso. A maior parte das pessoas finge que quer mesmo tudo o que tem e que está satisfeito. Eu não sou assim. Então como é que se volta para vida com uma sombra de vergonha atrás?
Como é que se volta para a vida quando não se tem a certeza se ainda há lugar... para algo... como eu?

Pergunta ingénua

Quem é que sabe que programa grátis usar para colar vários mp3 num só? Já tenhos os mp3, só queria colá-los.

Obrigada.