Der Untergang

Goebbels
Goering
Himmel
Hitler

Monstruos? Que clase de seres fueron estos? Objetivamente, simplemente personas. Aunque también el peor medio de una nación para canalizar su frustración y revertir una profunda humillación.

El temor al comunismo, la decepción de un gobierno inepto, el deseo de un futuro glorioso. Todo se combinó de modo que se dio la oportunidad de liderar una nación a quien luego sería condenado por la historia como un criminal universal.

Sin embargo la aventura tenía que llegar a un fin. Un fin trágico, violento. Ni siquiera la aniquilación de un imperio del terror puede ser motivo de sonrisas. La locura manda, la razón desaparece, el hombre pierde su carácter de humano.

Quien una vez tuvo el continente en sus manos, ahora tiene que ocultarse en la prisión que el mismo construyó. Día a día la esperanza de salir se va apagando. Uno a uno, aquellos quienes una vez le juraron fidelidad, lo abandonan. Pronto los temibles enemigos están en sus puertas. Finalmente es preferible perforarse el cráneo que soportar un segundo más de encierro en la prisión.

Las últimas horas del III Reich, la decadencia y caída final. Así como se negaron a mostrar piedad ante los subyugados, nadie tuvo piedad de ellos. La Grossdeutschland quedó convertida en un bunker abandonado, en medio de ansiedad, desesperación y confusión.

Protagonizada por Bruno Ganz, Alexandra Maria Laura et al. Dirigida por Oliver Hirschbiegel.

Der Untergang (La Chute)

KV 626

Lacrimosa dies illa
qua resurget ex favilla
judicandus homo reus.
Huic ergo parce, Deus:
pie Jesu, Domine
dona eis requiem. Amen

Seven Reasons, March 73

It's a cheap gimmick. It's easier to identify myself for the purpose of entering gigs, where efficient jobs worths used to refuseme entry - not believing that I was in the group. The lice cross from the left side to the right every evening at exactly 7pm and I can swat them more easily. I like to stand on my head every once in a while and this affords more teal ance. It's an external indication of the spiritual desert which lies within. I've got a subconscious desire to join the Hare Krishna movement. It's the result of a very nasty shaving accident.

Narrow way

Then he sat on the big armchair, just in front of the screen. Hands automatically positioned and one hemisphere concentrating while the other was in honeymoon. His eyes were suddenly replaced by two big pool balls, and it was way too much. He lied on the floor just for a minute. He should keep himself alive, at least keep his mind working. But that minute turned into an hour, and when he realized it, he was upset with himself.

Once again he had failed, and that wasn’t allowed. That wasn’t allowed. Once again his weakness had made him fall. -Such a shame-. It was really never enough; the summit was always so distant. Always so far and away. Anyway, he had to go on, keep on marching, keep on climbing.

When would that stop? Where would he stop? He didn’t know. Today he still doesn’t know, and in fact now we wonders if there’s a way out of the labyrinth.

He thinks he has chosen the narrow way, but it is so narrow indeed, that he wonders if it’s a way at all; or maybe it’s only him tracing his path to a world covered by impenetrable ice.

Closer To The Heart

And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones to start
To mould a new reality
Closer to the heart

The blacksmith and the artist
Reflect it in their art
Forge their creativity
Closer to the heart

Philosophers and ploughmen
Each must know his part
To sow a new mentality
Closer to the heart

You can be the captain
I will draw the chart
Sailing into destiny
Closer to the heart

Just if...

And finally they never saw each other again.

He had imagined the encounter. He could even describe the small details of her smile as she would get closer and closer…

She is there standing among the crowd, but in the precise moment she is performing the most trivial and forgettable movement, he appears.
His eyes are walking right straight to hers, his steps sound decided but his hands tremble. He knows it’s only one shot, and he’s got to take it.
Now her shoulders rise again and her body feels the cold wind for an instant. She has forgotten everything else. She thought it wouldn’t ever happen; but he is here.

Their mouths should discuss it, but it would be such a waste of time. So they let the words flow without a meaning. There is no point in wasting the tongues, and the feelings are unleashed. All those days restrained by a wall of formalisms are over. They can converge and let the wave start.

Suddenly he woke up. 5 O’clock, and he will never know what would have happened.

Awake

Standing on the bridge,
you may think you're daring
but you're only staring

just shouting out loud
with no reason at all
you can't even get a call

Let your smile spread before your steps
Let your eyes see beyond the clouds
Let your star shine again

Stop digging your waste
keep your bag in the past
and pick up your brand new blast

Let your star shine again

Let your hair hang all around me

We may think of it as just an amusement
Maybe even as a way of passing the time

But think of it as a way of living
and dealing with your days

One day arrives, when you realize
not everyone's a friend
And though you've lost your way
the dogs won't give a leg

For just living on memories
some day you'll forget yourself
And your long working road
leads only to an end

Think of it as time flying
and freeing your dying days

The Stranger

It is indeed strange to feel like a stranger.
Careful not to move a finger 'cause you'll harm someone someway.

First you think you're the new birdy in the cage, then you can imagine you're just another rat in lab. But there's a point when you realize it's just another context and people are still people (wherever)

Everywhere you'll find the street-wise, the playboy, the quiet guy, the sweet lady, the grumpy one, and of course the barking people! ( >:< Watcha look'nat? )

Anyway, once you know the social contract and the conventions in your current context, you're ready to help the machine. She's glad to have you back; 'cause no matter where, she always needs you.

The Spirit Of Radio

Luego de la explosión de productos dirigidos al almacenamiento y reproducción de música en formato mp3 y afines, se pensó en la inutilidad de la radio. Para qué puede uno querer escuchar una emisora radial si en lugar de eso tiene la posibilidad de piratear todo lo que quiera. De ese modo se evita escuchar propaganda indeseable, intérpretes indeseables y ritmos indeseables. Entonces porqué no hacerlo ahora mismo? Copiamos toda la piratería de Internet, procedemos a rippear CDs que inundan el escritorio… y ya está.

Luego procedemos a escuchar. Inicialmente existe una satisfacción egoísta. Aquello que creemos que es nuestra mejor selección de tracks responde a nuestro pedido. No existen interrupciones (a menos que así lo deseemos) y nos place. Pero llega un momento en el que se siente algo raro. Por más que tratemos de armar listas y aplicar shuffle por todo lado, al final terminamos escuchando el 10% del repertorio en un orden similar. Hasta podemos asegurar que después de los chillidos insuperables de Geddy Lee, aparecerá el retumbante bajo de Jack Bruce.

Y nuestra libertad de elegir se convierte en monotonía. La sorpresa del riff se convierte en un sonido intrascendente que pasa inadvertido. Y se comete el sacrilegio: el abuso del gusto se convierte en hastío; se desdibujan las imágenes inicialmente perfectas. Lo que era una excentricidad exquisita parece ahora un error de principiante.

Es por eso que retrocedemos, miramos atrás y comprendemos la naturaleza de la radio que por un momento quedó enterrada. Tal vez intentar revivirla sea una pérdida de tiempo, pero aún es posible rescatar su carácter. Siempre espera paciente el momento de atacar y ahogarnos en una nueva experiencia.

Para quienes siguen creyendo que la música consiste en descubrir, el espíritu de la radio aún permanece.

Shh...listen

Listening to music is a really strange experience. Every single human being is somehow attached to music.
Tightly or not? It depends. But music is inherent to people. Some of us just can't live without it, but others can't live bearing their neighbor's favourite tune! And there's the big deal. It doesn't matter how beautiful you may think a song is, but you can undoubtlessly find someone in this world who may consider it simply as crap.

And it doesn't matter how tolerating you think you are, you'll find you just can't stand some rythms. Let's take an example....... how about me? I equally hate The Rasmus (ok, i ignore the spelling), BSpears and Luis Miguel. They're all different, loved (well, at least they've got people in their concerts), people buy their records. Ok. Sorry but i can't.
And those who listen to them would prefer playing frisbee with my LedZep or Rush CD's. Let's face it: music was (and is) made by men and women; therefore at least one man or woman is there to enjoy it. So turn on your radio and play it loud so you won't listen to your neighbor's noise!!!

I'm afraid of americans

And I've got reasons! Now I realize how similar we all are.
I just hope this won't be our final cut...

Mean Pride

Catch the wit!