how do you know if you are a nerd?
when all your closest friends (well just 3 of them) are on their way to the hypest musical festival of the year
and you are going, alone, on a friday night
to the closest borders...
at least is to exchange a birthday gift card
thank god my friends do know i am a geek
and send good presents
books, a record, even a concert ticket
i might be a nerd
but the good kind
Friday, April 28, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
the notorious MSG
with names like
DOWN-LO MEIN (the yello gigolo)
HONG KONG FEVER (the ringleader)
THE HUNAN BOMB (killing machine)
the notorious MSG makes its appearance in this world
these bad kids from China Town New York are here to
rap your steamed buns!
with songs like Dim Sum Girl and Egg Rollin'
they are so funny and they don't care for stereotypes
at all!
of course they are in myspace too
DOWN-LO MEIN (the yello gigolo)
HONG KONG FEVER (the ringleader)
THE HUNAN BOMB (killing machine)
the notorious MSG makes its appearance in this world
these bad kids from China Town New York are here to
rap your steamed buns!
with songs like Dim Sum Girl and Egg Rollin'
they are so funny and they don't care for stereotypes
at all!
of course they are in myspace too
portuguese folk "romerita"
here a little video from the normal heights roots and folk street festival this past weekend
these two handsome men rocked on with their portuguese tunes (this is the only complete song i have, but i have more clips, the festival was a lot of fun, my first one in normal heights)
(unfortunately the video quality from youtube.com is not as great as a movie attached, but hey! they are making a great deal letting one upload such memory suckers as movies are)
what are you waiting for? make your little movies and send them to me, i'll watch...
these two handsome men rocked on with their portuguese tunes (this is the only complete song i have, but i have more clips, the festival was a lot of fun, my first one in normal heights)
(unfortunately the video quality from youtube.com is not as great as a movie attached, but hey! they are making a great deal letting one upload such memory suckers as movies are)
what are you waiting for? make your little movies and send them to me, i'll watch...
gates and hu
on the meeting of bill gates (please check his auto-page at microsoft, hmmm?) with chinese president hu jintao here some old news. and it seems that bill does need the mircrosoft's office clip help (here how to get rid of him, just in case) taken from the daily show of jon stewart, comedy central ha-ha still stupid tv attemptthis was funny though
diseño, señor
design, this tea kettle/tea pot from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
read on the magnificent three tea pots
read on the magnificent three tea pots
Hay máquinas
you know?
Ya hay máquinas
Para todo hay máquinas
Unas para hacer esto
Otras para hacer aquello
hombre
no te rompas la cabeza?
Si puedes quedarte ahí tan fresquesito fresco
Ya hay máquinas, hombre, te dijo, que hacen esto…
Monday, April 24, 2006
morrissey
monday
i don't know what i would be doing without the newest morrissey album
Ringleader of the Tormentors
right on!
have been listening for a week or longer
then dropped on the weekend
and today
monday me BIG
no make up
just waking up
as promised chio here we go!
need my 100 bucks now
funny mind sets
funny freedom strange
no sex no sex wasn't that
would have been easier though
why not? the sex
'cause you are not here, today
lonely prevalence
pleasure just to cure concerns
but
hello! good bye! and farewell
you are there
i am here still today
lunacy, listen to morrissey then
or the smiths for its glorious defect/effect
monday! gracias morrissey
i don't know what i would be doing without the newest morrissey album
Ringleader of the Tormentors
right on!
have been listening for a week or longer
then dropped on the weekend
and today
monday me BIG
no make up
just waking up
as promised chio here we go!
need my 100 bucks now
funny mind sets
funny freedom strange
no sex no sex wasn't that
would have been easier though
why not? the sex
'cause you are not here, today
lonely prevalence
pleasure just to cure concerns
but
hello! good bye! and farewell
you are there
i am here still today
lunacy, listen to morrissey then
or the smiths for its glorious defect/effect
monday! gracias morrissey
Thursday, April 20, 2006
the ghost writer
"... for she felt quite weightless, and might as easily have been floating up as down."
-the ghost writer, john harwood
a lovely very rich book so far
as i finished in julian
in perfect time, another of those strange/astonishing coincidences place-meets-time
murakami's a wild sheep chase
another life-changing story thrown at your feet by mother chance
highly recommended! both
-the ghost writer, john harwood
a lovely very rich book so far
as i finished in julianin perfect time, another of those strange/astonishing coincidences place-meets-time
murakami's a wild sheep chase
another life-changing story thrown at your feet by mother chance
highly recommended! both
Sinuhe copies and pastes
many many years ago i read Sinuhe The Egyptian, a novel by Mika Waltari
today here at work and not sure why
all of a sudden Sinuhe and his descriptive walks on the arid desert
also the battlefields, came to my mind
i think i read it at least 15 years ago... never thought of it until today, right now
but while here at work i am dealing with HTML, stupid Cold Fusion and Fusebox that I don't understand
I ended doing a little process that requires a lot of simple old fashioned
COPY and PASTE
now i feel that for Sinuhe his job of walking those dusty battlefields
was as pasty and boring as my COPY/PASTE
but just his walks, not the rest of his life, no, just the dusty walks
but at least both me and Sinuhe have a job
and a job is sometimes, a lot of boring work
do i need help though? maybe just a chat with old Sinuhe would be fine
too bad i don't have Mycroft's Prose Portal to at least make an attempt...
not related but check this out pictured below, avant-garde experimental 20's precious stuff
today here at work and not sure why
all of a sudden Sinuhe and his descriptive walks on the arid desertalso the battlefields, came to my mind
i think i read it at least 15 years ago... never thought of it until today, right now
but while here at work i am dealing with HTML, stupid Cold Fusion and Fusebox that I don't understand
I ended doing a little process that requires a lot of simple old fashioned
COPY and PASTE
now i feel that for Sinuhe his job of walking those dusty battlefields
was as pasty and boring as my COPY/PASTE
but just his walks, not the rest of his life, no, just the dusty walks
but at least both me and Sinuhe have a job
and a job is sometimes, a lot of boring work
do i need help though? maybe just a chat with old Sinuhe would be fine
too bad i don't have Mycroft's Prose Portal to at least make an attempt...
not related but check this out pictured below, avant-garde experimental 20's precious stuff
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
músculos bajo plumas
y ahorita, así de la nada, me acuerdo. pero el recuerdo está parchado, como si estuviera hecho de pedacitos de tela, de la misma tela de la que se cortan las ilusiones pequeñas y los sueños que tienes cuando estas despierto.
casi atropello a un pájaro, parecía un ganso, y bastante grande, entonces tenía la presencia mas que de un ave, de un animal mas voluminoso, como un perro de cacería o una oveja. el camino que manejaba, nublado y niebla, curvas y a veces al salir de ellas, pequeñitas piedras. todavía no llovía ni estaba mojado de antes. pero en el ambiente se sentía esa fuerza extraña que invade todas las cosas, no solo las materiales sino tambien las etéreas, antes de una tormenta. oficialmente era la tarde, pero de mañana casi todavía. y siempre ha habido algo diferente, casi místico en las tormentas de mediodía, algo de contradicción, de sentimiento eclíptico con sabor a mito, y a paradoja de una muy básica teoría sobre la luminosidad ahora negada con lluvia que corresponde a un típico mediodía, y fundido con el aroma de las lágrimas de melancolía que pronto serán la lluvia misma. el ave cruzó, corría, tuve que frenar en la curva y vi como sus alas ahora cercanas se movían, contemplado por menos de un segundo como los pequeños músculos en acción se tensaban bajo las plumas de textura suave que resplandecían bajo el poco sol filtrado entre densas nubes formando un arcoiris de cientos de tonos de un mismo color café. todo tan rápido, menos de un segundo fué. nos vimos frente a frente, imagen transparente, pero no tanto con los ojos sino más bien con el sentido del sentimiento, y de alguna manera y afortunadamente las dos sabíamos que no había mas peligro, pero también la complicidad unificadora existía, que aunque mas corto que un pequeño instante o que esa mitad de un de un segundo, peligro y de muerte, lo hubo...
extraña, misteriosa, inesperada, y a veces de muchos tonos de café y entre la niebla y al mediodía, en la contradiccion de un nublado incandescente el pájaro y yo supimos, eran tanto la muerte como la vida
y si los arboles de cuyamaca retorcidos quemados hace poco, grandes fuegos forestales fueron no solo nuestra perfecta escenografía, si no también testimonios y eternos testigos de muerte pero antes, de vida
casi atropello a un pájaro, parecía un ganso, y bastante grande, entonces tenía la presencia mas que de un ave, de un animal mas voluminoso, como un perro de cacería o una oveja. el camino que manejaba, nublado y niebla, curvas y a veces al salir de ellas, pequeñitas piedras. todavía no llovía ni estaba mojado de antes. pero en el ambiente se sentía esa fuerza extraña que invade todas las cosas, no solo las materiales sino tambien las etéreas, antes de una tormenta. oficialmente era la tarde, pero de mañana casi todavía. y siempre ha habido algo diferente, casi místico en las tormentas de mediodía, algo de contradicción, de sentimiento eclíptico con sabor a mito, y a paradoja de una muy básica teoría sobre la luminosidad ahora negada con lluvia que corresponde a un típico mediodía, y fundido con el aroma de las lágrimas de melancolía que pronto serán la lluvia misma. el ave cruzó, corría, tuve que frenar en la curva y vi como sus alas ahora cercanas se movían, contemplado por menos de un segundo como los pequeños músculos en acción se tensaban bajo las plumas de textura suave que resplandecían bajo el poco sol filtrado entre densas nubes formando un arcoiris de cientos de tonos de un mismo color café. todo tan rápido, menos de un segundo fué. nos vimos frente a frente, imagen transparente, pero no tanto con los ojos sino más bien con el sentido del sentimiento, y de alguna manera y afortunadamente las dos sabíamos que no había mas peligro, pero también la complicidad unificadora existía, que aunque mas corto que un pequeño instante o que esa mitad de un de un segundo, peligro y de muerte, lo hubo...
extraña, misteriosa, inesperada, y a veces de muchos tonos de café y entre la niebla y al mediodía, en la contradiccion de un nublado incandescente el pájaro y yo supimos, eran tanto la muerte como la vida
y si los arboles de cuyamaca retorcidos quemados hace poco, grandes fuegos forestales fueron no solo nuestra perfecta escenografía, si no también testimonios y eternos testigos de muerte pero antes, de vida
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