no comment, just sayin'. [4]

So, there's this guy, right here. His name is Usain Bolt, he's from Jamaica and he is currently the world record holder for the fastest legal time in running 100 metres, 150 metres and 200 metres.

He's also quite the showman, with respect to his conduct in competitions and his declarations, pictures and TV appearances when he's off the track.






This Sunday, during the Athletics World Championship in Daegu, South Korea, the 100 metres final showed many surprises in the blockstarts, as seven of the fastest men on the planet did not enter the final: two were suspended for doping, two were injured, and three failed to qualify (source: The Guardian).

However, three competitors were Jamaican and Usain Bolt was present among them, clearly the favourite for winning this final leg of one of the most spectacular athletics competitions. With fractions of seconds before the referee's pistol went off, Usain Bolt.. well, bolted to a false start. That shouldn't have been a problem, only that the (not-so) new single false start rule of the IAAF (beginning of 2010) states that a competitor is disqualified after a single false start. And so, this year's running track for the 100 metres final in the Athletics World Championships counted just 7 lanes after Usain Bolt got disqualified.

The moment.

In the second immediately following the incident, the only man that realized what had happened was Usain Bolt. Then, the other competitors. Then, the entire stadium. After the shock went away, the fastest man in the world refused to stay on the field and left the stadium.

After this final (won by Yohan Blake, another Jamaican, with 9.92 seconds), tens of thousands of opinions concerning the single false start rule blew up in the written press, on the radio, TV and online. Now, the IAAF is under enormous pressure to reconsider the said rule; a rule that, among other reasons, has a most interesting one for its existence: the televisions. It seems that the televisions requested this rule so that their commercials would not be delayed in any way, because those commercials are paid by the second, with big, big piles of money. Ironically enough, Usain Bolt is one of the main sources of income for sports televisions, TV shows, covers, magazines, companies and commercials.

The athlete's message was spoken out loud for all the sports journalists and photographers that were stepping on each other to take his picture after he got disqualified: "Looking for tears? That's not going to happen."

P.S. Credits for the pictures: click on them and see where they take you. Also, you might want to read this article from Sports Illustrated.

here's to loki!

you know that place we all have, the-dark-room-at-the-end-of-the-corridor-that-is-always-locked-and-the-key-stays-in-your-funeral-tuxedo-pants'-backpocket-and-you-blindfoldedly-keep-throwing-things-inside-the-window-but-you-do-not-even-dare-to-raise-your-eyes-from-the-doormat-when-you-are-near-the-entrance?

yeah, well, i'm well-known for my arson skills.

ssssssssomebody stop me!

pământ solid în deltă.

mergeam lipa-lipa.
era un drum de nisip de la est la vest, un drum care leagă foarte multe chestii pe lumea asta, în special patul meu de locul de unde se cumpără votcă la sticlă de sticlă.
eram în sfântu gheorghe, ăla din deltă.
căutam un magazin unde nu mai fusese nimeni, niciodată.
şi întâlnesc un domn pe care mă hotărăsc să-l întreb de direcţii, părea că mai fusese pe la magazinul ăla. de fapt, părea că tocmai plecase de acolo.
şi, ca să vă daţi seama, sfântu gheorghe e ca manhattan-ul: are multe uliţe perpendiculare pe două-trei bulevarde. tre' să fii uşor orb, surd, mut şi cu urechea internă distrusă ca să te rătăceşti.

- 'mneaţa (nu era chiar dimineaţă, că votca e votcă oricând, da' ştiţi cum salut eu), aveţi idee unde-i magazinul? (unul şi articulat.)

- păi, se întoarce omul în nisip, e aşa.. da' ia haideţi cu mine, că vă duc eu.

fiind puţin surprins să găsesc o a doua persoană plurală în sfântu gheorghe şi nevrând să-l întrerup din muncă (părea că merge undeva important), îi zic:

- nu, nu-i nevoie, doar ziceţi-mi, aşa, a câta la stânga sau la dreapta, măcar aproximativ.

el se uită oblu între ochii mei şi se clatină sincer pe vârful unei dune.

- io-mi bag p*la, mie nu mi-a plăcut cartea. io nu ştiu să explic, că n-am făcut şcoală. deci, vă duc până acolo, dacă vreţi, da' nu mă puneţi să vă zic unde e, că nu ştiu.



am ajuns, totuşi, singur la magazin. de unde am cumpărat apă plată şi pepsi.

hey now, all you children.

i (finally) managed to lose my sunglasses, and i'm really considering not buying new ones. i'm just gonna go clint eastwood for a while.

and this guy (finally) found out about dream theater, and i see he's all proud and cocky about it.
so, dude, here's another one from them you should listen.

dragă băieţi.

după atâtea poze cu foc şi pară, ia să bag şi-o scrisoare.

ieri, citesc asta: Capitalismul mărşăluieşte biruitor prin Europa. am lăsat un răspuns în glumă la ceea ce am crezut eu că e aproape o glumă, dar 1. m-am gândit mai mult şi 2. văd că s-au gândit şi alţii, şi mi-au lăsat şi răspuns. aşadar, azi, aş dori să răspund, dar aici, nu acolo. mă gândesc că vlad petreanu îşi vrea blogul înapoi cât de cât curat.

scrisoare către giulius, zaqk şi nashu_mare.

începem.

FRUSTRÁ, frustrez, vb. I. Tranz. A lipsi pe cineva (în special statul sau o instituție a lui) de un drept sau de un bun; a păgubi; p. ext. a înșela. – Din fr. frustrer, lat. frustrari.

.. ieri am aflat şi eu.

în primul rând, băieţi, nu mai staţi aşa înghesuiţi la fileu. nişte oameni aşa serioşi, amuzanţi şi tăioşi ca voi sigur pot lua loc în tribuna vip, undeva, în lateral, cu bilete de trei ori mai scumpe.

în al doilea rând, asta-nseamnă că tre' să se-ntâmple şi ceva interesant pe scenă, că de-aia aţi venit, să staţi jos. bine. am să încerc să nu mă lungesc prea mult, pentru că-s convins că suntem cu toţii şi bine informaţi, şi suficient de inteligenţi, încât să nu trebuiască să ne luăm de la pa'şopt.

aşa, în două cuvinte, articolul de plecare e tendenţios cât marea mediterană. una e să nesocoteşti backgroundurile complet diferite ale tensiunilor din uk, franţa şi grecia, alta e să le pui pe-acelaşi picior, să scrii un articol şi să zici că hai, poate l-o vede' cineva ca fiind un pamflet.

pe lângă nişte milioane de imigranţi de peste tot, franţa are nişte alte milioane care-s numa' arabi, maghrebieni (3,000,000), berberi (reminder from the comment, thanks), veniţi din maroc, tunisia, alger, sub-sahara.. islamici, da, înlăuntrul ei. acuma, problemele ceva mai serioase cu imigranţii veniţi în franţa s-au născut hăt! de prin anii '60, de când era rost de muncă şi s-au adunat din toate colţurile lumii. şi au tot existat mici explozii periodice de emigrare către franţa de atunci încoace. turnanta de politică socială a lu' sarkozy (care E un dobitoc), în 2005 ministru de interne, care oricum toarnă gaz pe foc în părerea lui despre orientul mijlociu, conflicte interetnice şi alte minuni, nu a făcut decât să dea oleacă-n clocot nişte indivizi care stăpânesc perfect arta manipulării religioase asupra maselor.

grecia = faliment şi corupţie generalizată. şi acolo, "trăgaciul" a fost ceva asemănător cu londra, săptămâna asta: un puştan de 15 ani a fost omorât de poliţie. n-ai ce să vrei acolo. oamenii au ieşit în stradă şi, greci fiind, şi-au adus aminte de formaţiunile de luptă între stadioane.

în uk, dacă mai ţineţi minte, au ieşit şi-n aprilie în stradă. spontan, 500,000 de oameni. să protesteze împotriva măsurilor de austeritate. acum, problema este cu totul alta: un "trăgaci" (oarecum la propriu, totuşi) al unui mic gangster de cartier ucis de poliţie care a reuşit să aprindă o turmă de oameni, mulţi din anturajul său (extra-lărgit), nici ei nefiind străini de conflictele cu poliţia. şi, de-acolo, distracţia! e vorba de un număr (mult mai mic) de oameni care comit infracţiuni "primare", de furt, jaf, distrugere. şi diferenţa o fac, în primul rând, sutele de mii de ceilalţi oameni, tot civili, care acordă suport şi colaborează cu autorităţile (n-aveţi decât să vă uitaţi ceva mai jos, tot pe blogul ăsta, şi să vedeţi despre ce este vorba, dar şi google vă ajută, ca să parafrazez). giulius, vorbeai de petiţia online de 80,000 de oameni? pf. uită-te la zecile de mii de civili care ies în fiecare zi în stradă cu mătura, să cureţe la propriu străzile şi patruleze alături de poliţie. şi care le fac poliţiştilor ceai, cafea, sandwich-uri. şi care stau umăr la umăr cu turcii şi kurzii care au ieşit cu cuţitele-n mână să-şi apere magazinele. sunt organizaţi, sunt într-o proporţie de 300 la 1 contra vandalilor, sunt deştepţi şi paşnici. şi pariez că mulţi dintre ei sunt printre cei 500,000 care au ieşit în aprilie în stradă. e o oarecare diferenţă, aş zice.

punând lucrurile într-un context economic mondial, da, sunt legături generale între ieşirile în stradă din tot felul de ţări. numa' că mă enervează ăia din statele unite, ai dracu', nefăcând parte din europa, au scăpat de revolte. ce dacă-s tăticii capitalismului imperialist sălbatic, au vreo câteva războaie pe rol şi au fost retrogradaţi de la AAA la AA+.

şi acum vine partea aia care îi dă, parţial, dreptate lu' giulius: aceste cazuri (şi toate cazurile de ieşiri în stradă de felul ăsta din istorie) au, într-adevăr, ceva în comun (şi aici îmi pare rău să vă dezamăgesc, dar contextul politic lipseşte cu desăvârşire): antrenează indivizi şi grupuri de indivizi care, la adăpostul manifestaţiilor, lozincilor, scandărilor şi clinciurilor, îşi pun în aplicare nişte gânduri ceva mai telurice: să jefuiască, să fure, să distrugă. ei nu se revoltă social, ei vor haine, biciclete, laptopuri şi televizoare. şi, dacă tot e la liber, îşi iau. nu i-aţi văzut să jefuiască baza piramidei maslowiene (mâncare, adăpost etc. - mai degrabă distrug astfel de magazine), ci trag direct la produse de entertainment şi confirmare socială. ei nu au bannere, feţe descoperite şi strigă pro sau contra ceva, ei poartă glugi şi fulare peste faţă, haine comode şi acţionează pe un calapod infracţional. ei nu-s exponenţii propriei lor societăţi, ci sunt condamnaţi de ea. ei nu reprezintă eşecul capitalismului, ei reprezintă eşecul naturii umane, sub orice fel de variantă politică, economică sau socială. aşa a fost dintotdeauna, doar că acum, când rămân doar ei pe stradă şi se mai şi organizează în felul ăsta, lucrurile stau şi se observă cu totul altfel. iar să vezi chestia asta ca pe o manifestaţie, ca pe o revoltă socială.. ori e vorba de naivitate, ori de romantism, ori de tendenţiozitate. iar giulius le-o fi întruchipând el pe toate trei, dar nu simultan.

iar un simplu "bullshit" nu înseamnă că am ajuns la concluzia că interlocutorul e prost (departe de mine gândul ăsta, dacă-i prost, îi spun neaoş. but a stupid man has some trouble bullshitting other people), ci că doar face oleacă pe nebunul.

p.s. sigur, pot să fiu şi paranoic şi să încep cu teoriile conspiraţiei, ale manipulărilor politice a maselor, ale dezinformării, ale teroriştilor (ţin minte că parcă am avut şi noi o revoluţie şi câteva mineriade). vreţi? s-ar putea să fie mai interesant.

realitatea.

dat fiind că habar n-avem să facem un cover decent (nu ca lumea, nu bun, decent) după ce se-ntâmplă-n marea britanie, tre' să facem oleacă de caz senzaţional cu noi, românii. aşadar, se dă o ştire. asta.

Un român a salvat o tânără care a sărit de la etaj în Londra

citiţi-l. până la capăt.

mai departe. dacă vă uitaţi în link-ul din bară, unde intră, observaţi că e diferit de titlu: se foloseşte nenorocitul ăla de condiţional-optativ la trecut: "ar fi salvat". ei, pe flux a intrat mai tranşant, cu indicativ, perfect compus.

deci.

1. mă sictireşte la culme condiţionalul-optativ la trecut în ştiri. a ajuns marcă de "fiţi atenţi, urmează să vă prostim în faţă".

2. poza din articolul nostru e tăiată. lipsesc detalii importante, prezente într-o altă poză mult mai clară, făcută cu o fracţiune de secundă înainte de acelaşi fotograf, probabil în rafală.

3. iată şi poza mai grăitoare.

şi un citat din articolul de pe realitatea.net:

Din cauza fumului şi confuziei, există relatări contradictorii cu privire la cine a prins-o pe Konczyk. Unii privitori cred că un poliţist a fost cel care a prins-o, dar Adrian a insistat că el este cel care a salvat-o pe tânăra poloneză.

acuma, să privim oleacă poza grăitoare. din ea, grăiesc nişte căşti, viziere de plexiglas, un scut de plexiglas, două mâini întinse de una din acele căşti către o duduie aflată în cădere liberă. those guys are the fuckin' met police and/or the london firefighters. again, vorbim de fracţiuni de secundă - tânăra din imagine nu prea are unde să nimerească decât în mâinile întinse spre ea.

se mai văd, în umbra persoanei care întinde mâinile şi care poartă o cască, în plan ceva mai apropiat, ceea ce par a fi două capete de persoane fără căşti. deşi imaginea e neclară şi habar nu am dacă ăia-s oameni sau orice altceva, să presupunem că sunt, într-adevăr, civili şi să presupunem că unul dintre ei este adrian. but those are pretty big "if"s. la fel cum este şi ideea că tânăra a picat, în aceeaşi secundă, într-o pereche de mâini civile care erau lăsate în jos, la ceva distanţă de ea, în locul mâinilor care o aşteptau.

aşadar, în cazul în care compatriotul adrian nu face parte din poliţia metropolitană sau din corpul britanic de pompieri, dar a salvat-o pe tânăra în cauză, asta-nseamnă că poza asta e făcută la reconstituire, unde adrian probabil n-a mai putut fi prezent din cauza unor complicaţii la serviciu. that, or it's photoshopped by the met police and the journalists, which clearly have nothing better to do these days. clar. it sounds legit, doesn't it.

p.s. căutaţi pe net despre monika konczyk, tânăra salvată - sunt zeci de articole scrise de presa britanică. iar ai noştri, cei de la realitatea, au uitat să pună un link de unde şi-au tradus "articolul": linkul celor de la the daily telegraph.

london's future "rioters".

update: due to some unforeseen weather forecast, the event has been cancelled. but the profiles remain.

this facebook "event" has come to my attention: riot.

just a few pointers:

Time: 08 October · 06:00 - 09:00
Location hanley
Created by: Tom Lee Platz
For - join if u want to see a riot in hanley stoke- on- trent
More info - every one meet by the blue clock and then just kick off start smashing things up and start looting !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is tom lee platz. he's a painter and decorator at power house painting (good luck at keeping your job, fucktard), living in leek (oltenian descent? - romanian joke), stoke-on-trent, uk (i also bet that he's lobotomized enough to have his real location added to his profile). so, as you can see from his facebook profile, he's just a single jock that has, oh well, this profile picture of his:

i'm really laughing.






so. the "riot" is programmed for this OCTOBER. that's about 6 months spare time for the police to track down any moron that would join in. but there are 17 stupid-enough people that are already attending. and i got curious: who are these people? well, here are some of their profiles:

this gentleman is nico taylor. a former violin player, he suffered a freak breakfast accident to his hands, i mean head, and he hasn't been at peace ever since. he's really a very sensitive guy.

 ladies and gentlemen, this is mr. sam griggs. in his spare time, he likes long walks on the beach and taking pictures with young blonde ladies he will never, ever, ever, ever, ever, not in a million lifetimes, no way, shag. if you meet him, you need to speak slowly, because he can't follow you over how awesome he is.

as for the ladies, we have miss louise martin (not sure which one from this picture, but i'm betting the one on the left), a runner-up at "little miss donut shop" last year's regional contest, and with really high hopes for this year's edition. let's all root, i mean riot, for her.

and, of course, miss amber jayy, a devoted mother, daughter and sister (really, i have no idea what to make of that profile picture), who just wishes the best to everyone, as you can clearly see.





these are some of the future stupendous "rioters" you all must fear. not sure if this is a joke or just sheer stupidity (cue that picture of fry from futurama here), but i must tell you, "rioters", i'm not impressed. in romania, we got through miners' huge crimewaves in '90 (february and june), '91 (september) and '99 (january/february), which, in terms of violence against people, were much more brutal than anything you could ever imagine. google it, look it up on youtube. maybe you'll get some real stuff to post on your facebook planks. plus, there are some really fucked-up individuals online, so you better get your shite together, if you want to get old enough to legally drink in your country.

p.s. as i said, i'm from romania and i don't know much about the british education system: when does the school begin over there, guys?

no comment, just sayin'. [3]

.. and to think i just watched v for vendetta last night. again.

pretty much everybody knows how this weekend went in london, and, more recently, the start of the week in birmingham, nottingham, bristol, and liverpool.

but, for the ones who live in nauru, here's a (very) quick and broad update: mark duggan, a 29-year-old man from tottenham, was shot to death last thursday during a police covert operation that went bad (here's an idea of who mark duggan was). from this, a peaceful demonstration in his memory led to violent clashes with the police forces, in various neighbourhoods and boroughs of london, and, later, in birmingham and liverpool. aside from the demonstrations against police brutality and the fact that "there's something terribly wrong with this country", we're talking serious felonies here: arson, vandalism, burglary, theft, grand theft, robbery, street violence, and so on.

from what i gathered, around 334 civilians were arrested and around 45 police officers were injured these last days in what the uk's deputy prime minister, nick clegg, referred to as being "a total, utterly unacceptable pattern of people basically taking matters into their own hands, and inflicting violence, looting, thieving in a way which is completely unrelated to the death of Mr. Duggan last Thursday. It is totally and utterly out of order." the material and financial losses after - actually, still during - this entire thing are yet to be calculated.

and now, for the good sides.

yes, there are two.

first: aside from the already 3,500 police officers that are on duty, 2,500 more volunteered to work overtime (probably meaning 24/7, under the circumstances) to help calming things down and restoring order and peace on the streets. this is from the authorities' side.

0250 zulu update, from The Big Picture (check out the link for some formidable photos):

Facing unending rioting that has spread to other cities, London deployed 16,000 police in the largest show of force in the city's history. British Prime Minister David Cameron cut short a holiday in Italy to return home to deal with the widening crisis. Army units are standing by to help restore order. To date, 563 people have been arrested, and over 100 police officers injured.

second: would you please take a look at this link: it's a community/government-tagged page on facebook and it's called Reclaim London.

here's the description, plain and simple: "Reclaiming our streets from the looters and arsonists!" - right now, 1,997 people are on it. bear in mind that this is just one page that i saw on one of my facebook friends' stream, there are probably dozens more, but you should also bear in mind that there are twitter and facebook streams and updates that the arsonists and thieves used to coordinate and communicate between them.

0139 zulu update: another 5 facebook pages that i just saw on Reclaim London: United Against the London Riots, CROYDON CLEAN UP CREW, Post Riot Clean-up - Let's help clean up London, London Riot Clean-up #riotcleanup - Help Clean Up London (there's a twitter hashtag, as well), and Supporting the Met Police against the London rioters, a page which has no less than 846,784 members, at this very moment.

all these people are there for the same reason those 16,000 police officers work overtime these days: to clean up the streets, to alert and cooperate with the authorities about the felonies, and to put an end to this mayhem. and, from what i see on the streams, it looks like it's working. these people are organized, strong, smart, decided and rising in numbers:

Whilst there is no problem with venting the purpose of the group is to see as a community how we can help people pick themselves up from this madness. Cleaning, support, clothing and being vigilant.

this is great britain. boiling blood, pride, freedom, fights, honour, backbones and intelligence. and, because it's a no comment, just sayin' article (and, by the number of the updates, it tends to transform into a post pentru presă article), i won't write my opinions on how, why, who, what if, politics, accumulated tensions, connections between the global economy, stock markets, jobs, families, and so on.

p.s. this is my first post in which i used the oxford comma. i probably did it wrong.
p.p.s. picture copyrights: press on them and look at their links, except for two, one being a screenshot i took from the Reclaim London facebook page, and the second being taken from this guy.

hectic week-end, i had.

diving, moby, black noise, sunrise, new spot, walking, climbing, sunset, white silence and always on the road.

you could probably use the lyrics, too.

a few lines in a row.

so, i finally got around some of truman capote's short novels slash stories. in chronological order, they were breakfast at tiffany's, house of flowers, a diamond guitar and a christmas memory.

easy riding. for a guy who's never read any of capote's works before (such as me), he has some dna in common with salinger, fitzgerald, segal, kesey and steinbeck, but without a shred of any of those guys' humour.

as for the star of the print, breakfast at tiffany's, well, i think it really shows the author's grief and despair, right around the middle of the damn story, when he bursts out and gives the reader the entire morale, written in plain blunt words, like a machine gun, in about half a page.

Joe Bell disdainfully settled the fresh martinis in front of us.

"Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell," Holly advised him. "That was Doc's mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky."

"She's drunk," Joe Bell informed me.

"Moderately," Holly confessed. "But Doc knew what I meant. I explained it to him very carefully, and it was something he could understand. We shook hands and held on to each other and he wished me luck." She glanced at the clock. "He must be in the Blue Mountains by now."

"What's she talkin' about?" Joe Bell asked me.

Holly lifted her martini. "Let's wish the Doc luck, too," she said, touching her glass against mine. "Good luck: and believe me, dearest Doc - it's better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear."

the problem is, one had figured this part out from the first pages. and, since holly golightly (lulamae barnes) is not really an archetype that can suffer any changes, why strip the meagre pleasure of keeping this conclusion for oneself, after one had stumbled upon it from the very beginning.

and i think i know why. truman, you little bastard, you wrote this book for the women, didn't you. it's your way of telling them in their faces to fuck off, you figured them out, they're as complicated as a dripping olive from a martini. there isn't, actually, and morale to this story, is it. and, aside from the obvious oedipian complex, there's just some slipstream lesbian attraction between holly and her almost twin-named sister, your biological mother, lillie mae faulk. well, there you have it, your brochure for my brochure.

yes, well. next two stories: house of flowers and a diamond guitar - nice stories. human nature caught in a little momentum. truman places his bets on the most probable case scenarios in (his) reality (probably also inspired from his own life, but i'm too lazy to find the connections here), and that's what makes the reading just a tad surprising.

but enough of that. my favourite was, definitely, a christmas memory. that's the story you need to read. because that's where his real mother and friend is depicted, sook. and that's the story that keeps you on your soul's toes to the end and after. you can find the entire text here. i'd recommend copy-pasting it into a word file.

p.s. it's been æons since i last logged into my shelfari profile..

in the next three days.

you know all that bos taurus waste matter with every miracle holding for three days and the holy temple being rebuilt in three days. yeah, well, if you're not, by any chance, planning to use that wisdom to fertilize your crops, just forget about it.

having some very specific people in mind when i say this (hi, guys), for the next three days i want you to go in a place with absolutely no buildings or other such facilities around, just to have the chance to build them yourselves, if you feel like it.

if, upon departure, there is still no rock laid upon rock or stick tied upon stick, well, that means you will have fought, won and got out scott-free from some serious inner ass-kicking. possibly without even being present on the battle field. congratulations.

bowline.

not long ago, people used to call me out on the fact that i was writing in english, under the idiotic assumption that it was a sign of my angst or just being plain nervous.

these days they merely utter their disapproval of their hindered comprehension upon reading my posts. a tad more sincere. a smirk occurred.

alas, it's been quite a while since i had my last ghost being written-off around here. and it's been a little too long, because that's how i manage to keep a shallow, narrow, shaky, slacky lifeline for my bare feet. just like a loose halyard.

i really don't think i need a break. not now. the experiment is going great.

p.s. asta nu-nseamnă că n-am să mai scriu în română. de altfel, taman ieri v-am cadorisit din preaplinul mărinimiei inimii mele, scriind despre un exemplu colectiv de imbecilitate autohtonă. vă place, aţi dat like, Ă.

"alien rock opera".

so, let's get back to my turf.

today, i'd like to bring to your attention a band i first listened at simona's place, some years ago (she's the one that introduced me to this entire zeuhl thing, thank you very much). they're called koenjihyakkei and they're so badass, that all the speed metal death trash black rap core bands can just fuck off and start playing plastic xylophones for the deaf-eared remainder of their sorry lives.

being a newbie listener, there's nothing i could say right now that would do proper justice to this kind of music, so i'll just be a good boy and copy-paste from wikipedia and the band's page:

Zeuhl (pronounced [tsɔɪl]) means celestial in Kobaïan, the constructed language created by Christian Vander. Originally solely applied to the music of Vander's band, Magma, the term zeuhl was eventually used to describe the similar music produced by French bands, beginning in the mid-1970s. Although primarily a French phenomenon, zeuhl has influenced recent avant-garde Japanese bands.

Zeuhl typically blends progressive rock, symphonic rock, fusion, neoclassicism, avant-rock, and vocal elements of African-American spirituals and Western military call and response. Common aspects include dissonance, marching themes, throbbing bass, keyboards including piano, Rhodes piano, or organ, and brass instruments. Zeuhl shares much in common with the Rock in Opposition movement, and many bands have participated in RIO festivals.

a very cool description on what zeuhl sounds like comes from dominique leone, in a review of magma's 2004 album k.a. on pitchfork media:

Zeuhl sounds like, well, about what you'd expect an alien rock opera to sound like: massed, chanted choral motifs, martial, repetitive percussion, sudden bursts of explosive improv and just as unexpected lapses into eerie, minimalist trance-rock.

now, i've listened to many things in my life, including whale songs and macaque mating calls (which proved to be pretty cool), but this is literally awesome, especially if you hear it for the first time; your breath does stop for a couple of moments, under the overwhelming feeling of "what the fuck just happened":

what's there left to say:

I'm probably going out on a limb here, but from my vantage point, this is not only the most brilliant of all of contemporary Japanese bands, but perhaps the greatest group currently operating in the world. - Alternative Press

p.s. i got three albums with these guys. if anyone's interested, hit me up.

bă tâmpiţilor.

colcăie netul de d-astea. sunt nişte micuţi agramaţi plătiţi la negru (sau nu?) de tot felul de firme de social midia năvodari să adune toţi lobotomizaţii şi să facă nişte baze de date pentru clienţi. ştiţi cum au început pe facebook? finuţ, cu un tricou, cu o umbrelă, să vadă cum trage peştele. şi peştele trage, că de-aia e holbat şi are un sistem nervos oleacă mai ridicat de trilobiţi. s-au câştigat până acum milioane de tricouri, de umbrele, de ochelari de soare, de dracu' să vă ia. acuma au început cu iphone-urile.

acuma, serios, cât de bătute în cap tre' să fie mai bine de şaij' (şaizeci, şase zeci, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, fuckin' 60) de mii de dobitoace ca să creadă asemenea bulgăre de neamprostie şi să se-nscrie la "eveniment"?

bă greblelor, un iphone 4 costă vreo 2,500 de lei. înmulţiţi-i pe mac-ul vostru de colecţie cu 200,000 şi vă dă rezultatul de 500,000,000 de lei. lei grei, noi, roni (că voi, analfabeţii vieţii, ştiţi doar de roni)! asta-nseamnă, la cursul de azi, 118,047,029.9367267919539144395127 euro, adică aproape o sută douăzeci de milioane de euro, neuroni de cărămidă ce sunteţi.

păi cine ppppppppppppppchizda mamilor voastre credeţi că dă o sută douăzeci de milioane de euro pentru o turmă de oi placide care privesc nutreţul cu multă poftă, fericit că-l vede-n pixeli?

roxy popescu, marian andreea maria, diana diidy, andreea sacotă, ebrima jarju, vlad iulian, iramira midrigan, alexandru andrei ştefan şi toţi ceilalţi 60,541 de cretini patentaţi: băăăăăîîîî, puneţi, bă, mâna şi-nvăţaţi pentru bac, că data viitoare iar îl picaţi!

ptiu, unde eşti tu, failbook, doamne. cred că am să fac unu-n româneşte. mă umplu de bani. şi de iphone-uri.

p.s. http://www.mediastel.ro/ - asta-i firma care a făcut minunăţia. parte de prezentare: "Oferim solutii complete de concepere, implementare si evaloare a campaniilor publicitare". ce-i drept, dacă e valoare, e.