Cesar Silva, 2009
Pues este es el nuevo libro: El caso de la orquídea dorada. Bilingüe: francés - español.
Aquí el link donde lo pueden localizar en la red. Seguramente estará dispónible en la Cafebrería, en Ciudad Juárez, muy pronto.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
L'affaire de l'Orchidée Dorée
Cesar Silva, 2009
Pues este es el nuevo libro: El caso de la orquídea dorada. Bilingüe: francés - español.
Aquí el link donde lo pueden localizar en la red. Seguramente estará dispónible en la Cafebrería, en Ciudad Juárez, muy pronto.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Pale Ale, Un chaneque anda suelto por tierras xalapeñas
esta es la primera prueba de la Pale Ale que hice (hicimos) en el restaurante de Arael, Mordida de gato.
Es la primera prueba, pero salió sabrosa. buena carbonatación para tener madurando 15 días tan solo. Ya veremos cómo sabe al mes de maduración, el 7 de septiembre, que es lo que uno tiene que esperarse.
Ese mismo día probaremos la segunda tanda, también con 15 días de maduración. Esta será la más cercana a lo que andamos buscando. Será un poquito más clara, perom, a fin de cuentas, será una pale ale.
Salud
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
TIN TAN, El rey del barrio. El rey.
Ricardo Vigueras escribe sobre Tin Tan e su blog.
Hablar de Tin Tan es, quizá, hablar siempre de lo mismo. Pero uno nunca se cansa de hablar de Tin Tan.
Ricardo en alguna parte de su texto (dar click en el fragmento para seguir leyendo) dice lo siguiente:
Nacido en México en 1915 pero criado en Ciudad Juárez desde 1927, esta ciudad tiene en Tin Tan a su más destacado icono del siglo XX. Su fama trascendió fronteras, y durante la década de los 50 su cine era también muy popular en los circuitos de cine hispano de Estados Unidos, así como en España, donde hizo reir a toda la generación de la posguerra. Tin Tan crece en Juárez y pronto comienza a frecuentar a los pachucos de la frontera, con quienes aprende inglés y de quienes adopta el uniforme estrafalario de éstos, que él asumiría como indumentaria cinematográfica en sus primeros films y convertiría en objeto de los ataques de diversos intelectuales, pero en objeto de los halagos de otros muchos. Su natural tendencia a la payasada histriónica, al humor juguetón y gamberro, pero sin maldad, no sólo se convertirían en marcas de su estilo, sino que lo catapultarían al mundo de la farándula por medio de la siguiente anécdota.
Tin Tan, en El rey de barrio nos demuestra lo que es ser un verdadero comediante, se disfraza de maquinista (el rey del barrio), de gánster, que a la vez la hace de un cantaor, "Er niño de pecho", un maestro italiano de música y de un pintor de brocha gorda francés, siempre con la intención de robar, robar, robar. Cinco papeles en uno, no muy lejos de la proeza de interpretar al hijo del Vizconde, al Vinzconde y al Zorrillo, el héroe, en La marca del zorrillo. El cobarde y valiente Tin Tan, aventado y gandalla y justo.
Monday, October 05, 2009
THE HIRE
En Letras libres encontré estos cortos donde el actorazo Clive Owen interpreta a un súper chofer, de esos que uno sueña ser. Dejo el primero, los demás están en YOUTUBE (de ahí mismo lo sacó Letras libres), así que será fácil llegar a ellos.
¿Vieron The Transporter? Algo así, pero este es el orginal.
Hay uno corto donde Madonna interpreta a ¿Madonna? tal vez. Ahí búsquenlo.
Monday, September 21, 2009
El mejor Porno
En el Universal aparecen las mejores diez películas pornográfica de todos los tiempos.
Emmanuelle va en primer lugar, ¿ustedes que piensan?
Deep throat
Gynger Lyn Teaches Stephanie Swift
Behind The Green Door
Casa de los Sueños
La apertura de Misty Beethoven
Sensuales tardes con Pamela Mann
Shock
Tabú I
Tres Hijas
para la nota dar click aquí.
Emmanuelle va en primer lugar, ¿ustedes que piensan?
Deep throat
Gynger Lyn Teaches Stephanie Swift
Behind The Green Door
Casa de los Sueños
La apertura de Misty Beethoven
Sensuales tardes con Pamela Mann
Shock
Tabú I
Tres Hijas
para la nota dar click aquí.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Reservoir Dogs
MR. PINK
Let me tell ya what "Like a Virgin"'s about. It's about some cooze who's a regular fuck machine.
I mean talking morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.
MR. BLUE
How many dicks was that?
MR. WHITE
A lot.
MR. PINK
So then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker, and it's like, whoa baby. I mean this cat is like Charles Bronson in "The Great Escape." He's digging tunnels. Alright now she's gettin this serious dick action, and then she's feelin something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain
It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt. I mean Her pussy should be Bubble-Yum by now. But when this cat fucks her, it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see The pain is a reminder to a fuck machine what is was like to be a virgin. Hence, "Like a Virgin."
Let me tell ya what "Like a Virgin"'s about. It's about some cooze who's a regular fuck machine.
I mean talking morning, day, night, afternoon, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick, dick.
MR. BLUE
How many dicks was that?
MR. WHITE
A lot.
MR. PINK
So then one day she meets this John Holmes motherfucker, and it's like, whoa baby. I mean this cat is like Charles Bronson in "The Great Escape." He's digging tunnels. Alright now she's gettin this serious dick action, and then she's feelin something she ain't felt since forever. Pain. Pain
It hurts. It hurts her. It shouldn't hurt. I mean Her pussy should be Bubble-Yum by now. But when this cat fucks her, it hurts. It hurts just like it did the first time. You see The pain is a reminder to a fuck machine what is was like to be a virgin. Hence, "Like a Virgin."
Friday, September 04, 2009
Una isla sin mar, una vez más
Para los interesados
La cafebrería S&L, en Ciudad Juárez, me dice que va a recibir libros de Una isla sin mar muy pronto.
Les paso el dato por si están interesado en comprar un exemplar.
El teléfono de la cafebrería S&L es: 656-611-6541. Esto es en ciudad Juárez.
Su correo electrónico es: cafebreriasyl@gmail.com
El contacto es, por supuesto, mi amiga: Claudia Soto
La cafebrería S&L, en Ciudad Juárez, me dice que va a recibir libros de Una isla sin mar muy pronto.
Les paso el dato por si están interesado en comprar un exemplar.
El teléfono de la cafebrería S&L es: 656-611-6541. Esto es en ciudad Juárez.
Su correo electrónico es: cafebreriasyl@gmail.com
El contacto es, por supuesto, mi amiga: Claudia Soto
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Esto no es cine
recorriendo mi propio blog me encontré con estos "poemas". Hay varios, pero bueno, dejo estos. Espero que los disfrunten.
3 poema de esos
1. Sin título
cruz
azul
cruz
¡goool!
¿gol?
simon
dame-los
20
varos
varados
2. Yema de huevo presionada
¿dos puntos o un sandwich? húmedo rojo de serpenteo intenso en catsup
estrepitosfera doble sin lechuga,
pared llenada, lúbrica, de Hermes con la cual hace pivotar calor desde su coke light
la ameba soldó linea con línea de araña el tunel sin límite de la garganta al estómago
algo para curvar, zigzag, patata frita
boogie-woogie diagramático una para llevar
Hermes que fluye cuando fue separado de lo que fuera con su cajita feliz
3. poema en inglés original al final, traducción primero
entra
y
sale
¿Salinas?
Sale y vale
Vale de despensa
Dispensa esta madre
Pobre niña
De la periferia
(Inglés, original)
Goes in
And
Goes out
Goes out and is worth it
Worth it for groceries
Excuse this mother
Little girl
From the projects
Esos tiempos...
3 poema de esos
1. Sin título
cruz
azul
cruz
¡goool!
¿gol?
simon
dame-los
20
varos
varados
2. Yema de huevo presionada
¿dos puntos o un sandwich? húmedo rojo de serpenteo intenso en catsup
estrepitosfera doble sin lechuga,
pared llenada, lúbrica, de Hermes con la cual hace pivotar calor desde su coke light
la ameba soldó linea con línea de araña el tunel sin límite de la garganta al estómago
algo para curvar, zigzag, patata frita
boogie-woogie diagramático una para llevar
Hermes que fluye cuando fue separado de lo que fuera con su cajita feliz
3. poema en inglés original al final, traducción primero
entra
y
sale
¿Salinas?
Sale y vale
Vale de despensa
Dispensa esta madre
Pobre niña
De la periferia
(Inglés, original)
Goes in
And
Goes out
Goes out and is worth it
Worth it for groceries
Excuse this mother
Little girl
From the projects
Esos tiempos...
Monday, August 24, 2009
25th hour
MR. BROGAN
Give me the word and I'll take a left turn.
MONTY
Left turn to where?
MR. BROGAN
Wherever you want. Take the GW Bridge and go west. Get you stitched up somewhere and keep going. Find a nice little town
MONTY
Dad.
MR. BROGAN
I'm saying if you want. If that's what you want, I'll do it. We'll drive and keep driving. Head out to the middle of nowhere.
Find a nice little town.
Find a bar, and I'll buy us drinks. I haven't had a drink in nineteen years, but I'll have one with you. And then I'll leave.
I'll tell you don't ever write me, don't ever come visit. I'll tell you I believe in God's Kingdom and I believe I'll be with you again, and your mother. But not in this lifetime.
You get a job somewhere, a job that pays cash, a boss who doesn't ask questions, and you make a new life, and you never come back.
You find the right people and you get yourself papers, a driver's license. And then you wait. People get caught when they come home. But you're never coming
home.
And maybe— and this is dangerous— but maybe after a couple years you send word to Naturelle.
You forget about New York. You can't come back. You can't call, you can't write.
And maybe one day, years from now, long after I'm dead and gone, you gather your whole family together and you tell them the truth. Who you are and where you came from.
You tell them the whole thing. And then you ask them if they know how lucky they are to be there.
.
.
Give me the word and I'll take a left turn.
MONTY
Left turn to where?
MR. BROGAN
Wherever you want. Take the GW Bridge and go west. Get you stitched up somewhere and keep going. Find a nice little town
MONTY
Dad.
MR. BROGAN
I'm saying if you want. If that's what you want, I'll do it. We'll drive and keep driving. Head out to the middle of nowhere.
Find a nice little town.
Find a bar, and I'll buy us drinks. I haven't had a drink in nineteen years, but I'll have one with you. And then I'll leave.
I'll tell you don't ever write me, don't ever come visit. I'll tell you I believe in God's Kingdom and I believe I'll be with you again, and your mother. But not in this lifetime.
You get a job somewhere, a job that pays cash, a boss who doesn't ask questions, and you make a new life, and you never come back.
You find the right people and you get yourself papers, a driver's license. And then you wait. People get caught when they come home. But you're never coming
home.
And maybe— and this is dangerous— but maybe after a couple years you send word to Naturelle.
You forget about New York. You can't come back. You can't call, you can't write.
And maybe one day, years from now, long after I'm dead and gone, you gather your whole family together and you tell them the truth. Who you are and where you came from.
You tell them the whole thing. And then you ask them if they know how lucky they are to be there.
.
.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Wall
PINKY
(When The Tigers Broke Free)
It was just before dawn
One miserable morning in black 'forty four.
When the forward commander
Was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn.
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks held back
The enemy tanks for a while.
And the Anzio bridgehead
Was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives.
And kind old King George
Sent Mother a note
When he heard that father was gone.
It was, I recall,
In the form of a scroll,
With gold leaf and all.
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.
And my eyes still grow damp to remember
His Majesty signed
With his own rubber stamp.
It was dark all around.
There was frost in the ground
When the tigers broke free.
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.
They were all left behind,
Most of them dead,
The rest of them dying.
And that's how the High Command
Took my daddy from me.
(When The Tigers Broke Free)
It was just before dawn
One miserable morning in black 'forty four.
When the forward commander
Was told to sit tight
When he asked that his men be withdrawn.
And the Generals gave thanks
As the other ranks held back
The enemy tanks for a while.
And the Anzio bridgehead
Was held for the price
Of a few hundred ordinary lives.
And kind old King George
Sent Mother a note
When he heard that father was gone.
It was, I recall,
In the form of a scroll,
With gold leaf and all.
And I found it one day
In a drawer of old photographs, hidden away.
And my eyes still grow damp to remember
His Majesty signed
With his own rubber stamp.
It was dark all around.
There was frost in the ground
When the tigers broke free.
And no one survived
From the Royal Fusiliers Company C.
They were all left behind,
Most of them dead,
The rest of them dying.
And that's how the High Command
Took my daddy from me.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Watchmen
RORSCHACH
Rorschach’s journal. October 12th, 1985.
Dog carcass in the alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and politicians will look up and shout “save us!”… and I´ll look down and whisper “no.”
[…]
Paid last respects quietly, without Fuss. Edward Morgan Blake born 1924. forty-five years a comedian, died 1985, buried in the rain. Is what happens to us? A life of conflict with no time for friends… so that when it´s done, only our enemies leave roses. Violent lives, ending violently. Dollar bill, the Silhouette, Captain Metropolis… we never die in bed. Not allowed. Something in our personalities, perhaps? Some animal urge to fight and struggle, making us what we are? Unimportant. We do what we have to do. Others bury their heads between the swollen teats of indulgence and gratification, piglets squirming beneath a sow for shelter… but there is no shelter, and the future is bearing down like an express train. Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, masks trying to hold it together… He saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That´s why he was lonely.
Heard joke once: man goes to the doctor. Says he´s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says “treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man burst into tears. Says “ but doctor... I am Pagliacci.” Good yoke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.
Rorschach’s journal. October 12th, 1985.
Dog carcass in the alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen its true face. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown. The accumulated filth of all their sex and murder will foam up about their waists and politicians will look up and shout “save us!”… and I´ll look down and whisper “no.”
[…]
Paid last respects quietly, without Fuss. Edward Morgan Blake born 1924. forty-five years a comedian, died 1985, buried in the rain. Is what happens to us? A life of conflict with no time for friends… so that when it´s done, only our enemies leave roses. Violent lives, ending violently. Dollar bill, the Silhouette, Captain Metropolis… we never die in bed. Not allowed. Something in our personalities, perhaps? Some animal urge to fight and struggle, making us what we are? Unimportant. We do what we have to do. Others bury their heads between the swollen teats of indulgence and gratification, piglets squirming beneath a sow for shelter… but there is no shelter, and the future is bearing down like an express train. Blake understood. Treated it like a joke, but he understood. He saw the cracks in society, masks trying to hold it together… He saw the true face of the twentieth century and chose to become a reflection, a parody of it. No one else saw the joke. That´s why he was lonely.
Heard joke once: man goes to the doctor. Says he´s depressed. Says life seems harsh and cruel. Says he feels all alone in a threatening world. Where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. Doctor says “treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up.” Man burst into tears. Says “ but doctor... I am Pagliacci.” Good yoke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Airplane! (este es muy bueno)
.
OVEUR
Joey can stay up here for a while if he'd like to.
JOEY
Could I?
ELAINE
Okay, if you don't get in the way.
[…]
JOEY
Wait a minute. I know you. You're Kareem Abdul Jabbar. You play basketball for the Los Angeles Lakers!
MURDOCK
I'm sorry, son, but you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Roger Murdock. I'm the co-pilot.
Ah, Victor, why don't you get the coordinates on the altitude vector and find out the ratio of direct velocity over engine speed?
JOEY
You are Kareem. I've seen you play. My Dad's got season tickets!
MURDOCK
I think you should go back to your seat now, Joey. Right, Clarence?
OVEUR
No, he's not bothering anyone. Let him stay up here.
MURDOCK
All right. But just remember, my name is Roger Murdock.
I'm an airline pilot.
Ah, Clarence, according to my calculations, with this tailwind we ought to be able to make up an additional fifteen minutes over the Rockies.
JOEY
I think you're the greatest. But my Dad says you don't work hard enough on defense.
MURDOCK
Denver Control, this is Flight two-zero-niner intersecting Victor Airway seven-niner-niner.
JOEY
...and that lots of times you don't even run down court.
MURDOCK
We are turning left to a heading of zero-niner-niner.
JOEY
...and that you don't really try, except during the playoffs.
MURDOCK
The hell I don't! I'm out there busting my buns every night.
MURDOCK
Listen, kid, I've been hearing that crap ever since I was at UCLA. Tell your old man to drag Unseld and Lanier up and down the court for forty-eight minutes.
Ah...Denver Control, this is Flight two-zero-niner continuing on a heading two-niner-niner...niner, ah...niner...niner.
OVEUR
Joey can stay up here for a while if he'd like to.
JOEY
Could I?
ELAINE
Okay, if you don't get in the way.
[…]
JOEY
Wait a minute. I know you. You're Kareem Abdul Jabbar. You play basketball for the Los Angeles Lakers!
MURDOCK
I'm sorry, son, but you must have me confused with someone else. My name is Roger Murdock. I'm the co-pilot.
Ah, Victor, why don't you get the coordinates on the altitude vector and find out the ratio of direct velocity over engine speed?
JOEY
You are Kareem. I've seen you play. My Dad's got season tickets!
MURDOCK
I think you should go back to your seat now, Joey. Right, Clarence?
OVEUR
No, he's not bothering anyone. Let him stay up here.
MURDOCK
All right. But just remember, my name is Roger Murdock.
I'm an airline pilot.
Ah, Clarence, according to my calculations, with this tailwind we ought to be able to make up an additional fifteen minutes over the Rockies.
JOEY
I think you're the greatest. But my Dad says you don't work hard enough on defense.
MURDOCK
Denver Control, this is Flight two-zero-niner intersecting Victor Airway seven-niner-niner.
JOEY
...and that lots of times you don't even run down court.
MURDOCK
We are turning left to a heading of zero-niner-niner.
JOEY
...and that you don't really try, except during the playoffs.
MURDOCK
The hell I don't! I'm out there busting my buns every night.
MURDOCK
Listen, kid, I've been hearing that crap ever since I was at UCLA. Tell your old man to drag Unseld and Lanier up and down the court for forty-eight minutes.
Ah...Denver Control, this is Flight two-zero-niner continuing on a heading two-niner-niner...niner, ah...niner...niner.
Airplane!
.
MRS. ELDERLY
Nervous?
STRIKER
Yes.
MRS. ELDERLY
First time?
STRIKER
No. I've been nervous lots of times. I used to be a pilot myself...during the war.
[…]
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Flight two-zero-niner, you are cleared for takeoff.
OVEUR
Roger.
MURDOCK
(Mirando a Oveur)
Huh?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
L.A. departure frequency two-point-niner.
OVEUR
Roger.
MURDOCK
(Mirando a Oveur)
Huh?
BASTA
(a torre de control)
Request vector...over.
OVEUR
(Mirando a Basta)
What?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Flight two-zero-niner, cleared for vector three...two four.
MURDOCK
We have clearance, Clarence.
OVEUR
Roger, Roger. What's our vector, Victor?
EL VUELO 209 DESPEGA
BASTA (v.o.)
Tower radioed clearance, over.
OVEUR (v.o.)
That's Clarence Oveur...over.
BASTA (v.o.)
Roger.
MURDOCK (v.o.)
Huh?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Roger, over.
OVEUR (v.o.)
What?!
MURDOCK (v.o.)
Huh?
.
.
MRS. ELDERLY
Nervous?
STRIKER
Yes.
MRS. ELDERLY
First time?
STRIKER
No. I've been nervous lots of times. I used to be a pilot myself...during the war.
[…]
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Flight two-zero-niner, you are cleared for takeoff.
OVEUR
Roger.
MURDOCK
(Mirando a Oveur)
Huh?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
L.A. departure frequency two-point-niner.
OVEUR
Roger.
MURDOCK
(Mirando a Oveur)
Huh?
BASTA
(a torre de control)
Request vector...over.
OVEUR
(Mirando a Basta)
What?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Flight two-zero-niner, cleared for vector three...two four.
MURDOCK
We have clearance, Clarence.
OVEUR
Roger, Roger. What's our vector, Victor?
EL VUELO 209 DESPEGA
BASTA (v.o.)
Tower radioed clearance, over.
OVEUR (v.o.)
That's Clarence Oveur...over.
BASTA (v.o.)
Roger.
MURDOCK (v.o.)
Huh?
TORRE DE CONTROL (v.o.)
Roger, over.
OVEUR (v.o.)
What?!
MURDOCK (v.o.)
Huh?
.
.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Televisión que supera al cine
En Revista Ñ aparece este artículo
Dar click sobre el párrafo para seguir leyendo
La TV que supera al cine
En los últimos años, la producción televisiva apostó a la revisión de los grandes géneros cinematográficos, al punto de superar en calidad y complejidad narrativa a muchos largometrajes de Hollywood. ¿El resultado? Grandes series como Los Sopranos, Lost y Six feet under y una fiebre de espectadores como no se ve desde los años 60. Aquí, un recorrido por las mejores ficciones de la pantalla chica actual.
Yo voy a empezar la quinta temporada de Los Soprano. Christopher Moltisanti, uno de los mafiosos, explica muy bien en un capítulo de la primera temporada, qué es un ARCO, en cuanto a desarrollo de personajes se refiere. También lo encontrarán recitando un poema DEF en Youtube.
The highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive [...]
Keep your eye on the tiger, man.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Ya sé, ya sé, pero si no soy yo, ¿quién?
Este video lo hizo J. Xavier Velasco como promo para la novela Una isla sin mar.
Thursday, July 09, 2009
El padrino I
.
MICHAEL
She's hysterical -- hysterical.
KAY
Michael, is it true?
MICHAEL
Don't ask me about my business, Kay...
KAY
Is it true?
MICHAEL
Don't ask me about my business...
KAY
No.
MICHAEL
Enough!
…
Alright. This one time -- this one time I'll let you ask me about my affairs...
KAY
Is it true? -- Is it?
MICHAEL
No.
.
.
MICHAEL
She's hysterical -- hysterical.
KAY
Michael, is it true?
MICHAEL
Don't ask me about my business, Kay...
KAY
Is it true?
MICHAEL
Don't ask me about my business...
KAY
No.
MICHAEL
Enough!
…
Alright. This one time -- this one time I'll let you ask me about my affairs...
KAY
Is it true? -- Is it?
MICHAEL
No.
.
.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Transformers 2. La venganza del caído
.
Masticar papel aluminio pudiera considerarse más divertido que esta llamada película.
.
.
Masticar papel aluminio pudiera considerarse más divertido que esta llamada película.
.
.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Leolo
.
.
Porque sueño yo no soy. Porque sueño yo no soy, aquellos que sólo confían en su propia verdad me llaman Leo Lozeau.
[…]
Mi padre era un hombre como muchos otros. Un perro que mordía su vida perra.
El era pequeño, gordo, feliz, con las mejillas rojas. Las arrugas le daban forma a su rostro, pero no revelaban más que la edad que salía del fondo de ellas. En algún lugar entre los buenos días y el adiós, una eterna, intocada luna perforada por una rebanada de tiempo, una frente se alargaba más allá de su barbilla a su cuello y colgaba desesperadamente hasta sus hombros atiborrados.
[…]
Porque sueño, no soy. Porque sueño sueño. Porque en la noche me abandono a mis sueños. Antes de que sea dejo el día. Porque no amo. Porque tenía miedo amar. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño.
.
.
.
Porque sueño yo no soy. Porque sueño yo no soy, aquellos que sólo confían en su propia verdad me llaman Leo Lozeau.
[…]
Mi padre era un hombre como muchos otros. Un perro que mordía su vida perra.
El era pequeño, gordo, feliz, con las mejillas rojas. Las arrugas le daban forma a su rostro, pero no revelaban más que la edad que salía del fondo de ellas. En algún lugar entre los buenos días y el adiós, una eterna, intocada luna perforada por una rebanada de tiempo, una frente se alargaba más allá de su barbilla a su cuello y colgaba desesperadamente hasta sus hombros atiborrados.
[…]
Porque sueño, no soy. Porque sueño sueño. Porque en la noche me abandono a mis sueños. Antes de que sea dejo el día. Porque no amo. Porque tenía miedo amar. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño. Ya no sueño.
.
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Sunday, June 14, 2009
Full Metal Jacket
.
.
HARTMAN
I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your Senior Drill Instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir!" Do you maggots understand that?
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training ... you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day you are pukes! You're the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings! You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit!
Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless! And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps! Do you maggots understand that?
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you!
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
.
.
HARTMAN
I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your Senior Drill Instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to, and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "Sir!" Do you maggots understand that?
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training ... you will be a weapon, you will be a minister of death, praying for war. But until that day you are pukes! You're the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings! You are nothing but unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian shit!
Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair! There is no racial bigotry here! I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless! And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps! Do you maggots understand that?
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you!
RECLUTAS
Sir, yes, sir!
.
Sunday, June 07, 2009
A few good men
.
JESSEP
You want answers?
KAFFEE
I think I'm entitled to them.
JESSEP
You want answers?!
KAFFEE
I want the truth.
JESSEP
You can't handle the truth!
Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.
You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punch line.
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to.
KAFFEE
Did you order the code red?
JESSEP
I did the job you sent me to do.
KAFFEE
Did you order the code red?
JESSEP
You're goddamn right I did.
.
.
JESSEP
You want answers?
KAFFEE
I think I'm entitled to them.
JESSEP
You want answers?!
KAFFEE
I want the truth.
JESSEP
You can't handle the truth!
Son, we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know: That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.
You don't want the truth. Because deep down, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone to a life spent defending something. You use 'em as a punch line.
I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you're entitled to.
KAFFEE
Did you order the code red?
JESSEP
I did the job you sent me to do.
KAFFEE
Did you order the code red?
JESSEP
You're goddamn right I did.
.
.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Unforgiven
.
.
MUNNY
I'm comin' outta... an' any man I see out there, I'm gonna kill him... an' any sonsabitches that takes a shot at me, I ain't just gonna kill him, but I'm gonna kill his wife an' all his friends an' burn his damn house down. Nobody better shoot.
[...]
You better bury Ned right... you better not carve up nor otherwise harm no whores... or I will come back an' kill everyone of you sonsabitches
.
.
.
MUNNY
I'm comin' outta... an' any man I see out there, I'm gonna kill him... an' any sonsabitches that takes a shot at me, I ain't just gonna kill him, but I'm gonna kill his wife an' all his friends an' burn his damn house down. Nobody better shoot.
[...]
You better bury Ned right... you better not carve up nor otherwise harm no whores... or I will come back an' kill everyone of you sonsabitches
.
.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
ya sé, ya sé, esto no es cine, pero es un buen anuncio
.
Este mensaje es para los dos o tres chícaros que viven en Ciudad Juárez y pasan por aquí.
Una isla sin mar ya está a la venta en la Cafebrería S & L
Más información da click AQUI
.
.
Este mensaje es para los dos o tres chícaros que viven en Ciudad Juárez y pasan por aquí.
Una isla sin mar ya está a la venta en la Cafebrería S & L
Más información da click AQUI
.
.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Silence of the lambs
.
HANNIBAL LECTER
You're so ambitious, aren't you? Do you know what you look like, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look Like a rube. A well-scrubbed, hustling rube, with a little taste.
Good nutrition's given you length of bone, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you? And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed: pure West Virginia. What is your Father, dear? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? How quickly the boys found you. All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out, getting anywhere, getting all the way to the FBI.
CLARICE STARLING
You see a lot, Doctor. But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? What about it? Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? Or maybe you're afraid to.
HANNIBAL LECTER
A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. You fly back to school now, little Starling. Fly, fly, fly.
MIGGS
I bit my wrist so I can die. Look at the blood! Got ya!
HANNIBAL LECTER
Miggs, you stupid fuck! I'm gonna kill him! Agent Starling! Come back! Agent Starling! Agent Starling! I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly.
CLARICE STARLING
Then do this test.
HANNIBAL LECTER
No, but I'll give you a chance for what you love most.
CLARICE STARLING
And what is that?
HANNIBAL LECTER
Advancement. Listen carefully. Look deep within yourself, Clarice Starling. Go seek out Miss Mofet, an old patient of mine. M-O-F-E-T.
.
.
HANNIBAL LECTER
You're so ambitious, aren't you? Do you know what you look like, with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look Like a rube. A well-scrubbed, hustling rube, with a little taste.
Good nutrition's given you length of bone, but you're not more than one generation from poor white trash, are you? And that accent you've tried so desperately to shed: pure West Virginia. What is your Father, dear? Is he a coal miner? Does he stink of the lamp? How quickly the boys found you. All those tedious, sticky fumblings in the back seats of cars, while you could only dream of getting out, getting anywhere, getting all the way to the FBI.
CLARICE STARLING
You see a lot, Doctor. But are you strong enough to point that high-powered perception at yourself? What about it? Why don't you look at yourself and write down what you see? Or maybe you're afraid to.
HANNIBAL LECTER
A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti. You fly back to school now, little Starling. Fly, fly, fly.
MIGGS
I bit my wrist so I can die. Look at the blood! Got ya!
HANNIBAL LECTER
Miggs, you stupid fuck! I'm gonna kill him! Agent Starling! Come back! Agent Starling! Agent Starling! I would not have had that happen to you. Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly.
CLARICE STARLING
Then do this test.
HANNIBAL LECTER
No, but I'll give you a chance for what you love most.
CLARICE STARLING
And what is that?
HANNIBAL LECTER
Advancement. Listen carefully. Look deep within yourself, Clarice Starling. Go seek out Miss Mofet, an old patient of mine. M-O-F-E-T.
.
.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Vagina Monologues
.
I WAS THERE WHEN HER VAGINA CHANGED... FROM A SHY, SEXUAL HOLE TO AN ARCHAEOLOGICAL TUNNEL, A SACRED VESSEL, A VENETIAN CANAL, A DEEP WELL WITH A TIN Y STUCK CHILD INSIDE, WAITING TO BE RESCUED. I SAW THE COLORS OF HER VAGINA. THEY CHANGED. SAW THE BRUISED BROKEN BLUE, THE BLISTERING TOMATO RED, THE GRAY-PINK, THE DARK, SAW THE BLOOD-LIKE PERSPIRATION ALONG THE EDGES, SAW THE YELLOW, WHITE LIQUID, THE SHIT, THE CLOTS PUSHING OUT ALL THE HOLES, PUSHING HARDER AND HARDER, SAW THROUGH THE HOLE, THE BABY'S HEAD. SCRATCHES OF BLACK HAIR, SAW IT JUST THERE, BEHIND THE BONE. LIKE A HARD, ROUND MEMORY, AS THE NURSE FROM THE UKRAINE KEPT TURNING AND TURNING HER SLIPPERY HAND.
I WAS THERE WHEN EACH OF US, HER MOTHER AND I, HELD A LEG AND SPREAD HER WIDE, PUSHING WITH ALL OUR STRENGTH AGAINST HER PUSHING, AS HER HUSBAND STERNLY COUNTING, "ONE, TWO, THREE," TELLING HER, "FOCUS, FOCUS HARDER." WE LOOKED INTO HER THEN. WE COULDN'T GET OUR EYES OUT OF THAT PLACE. WE FORGET THE VAGINA, ALL OF US. WHAT ELSE WOULD EXPLAIN OUR LACK OF AWE, OUR LACK OF REVERENCE? I WAS THERE WHEN THE DOCTOR REACHED IN WITH ALICE IN WONDERLAND SPOONS AND THERE AS HER VAGINA BECAME A WIDE, OPERATIC MOUTH SINGING WITH ALL ITS STRENGTH, FIRST THE LITTLE HEAD. THEN THE GRAY FLOPPING ARM… THEN THE FAST, SWIMMING BODY, SWIMMING QUICKLY INTO OUR WEEPING ARMS.
I WAS THERE LATER, WHEN I JUST TURNED I TURNED AND I FACED HER VAGINA. I STOOD AND I LET MYSELF SEE HER, ALL SPREAD, COMPLETELY EXPOSED, MUTILATED, SWOLLEN, TORN, BLEEDING ALL OVER THE DOCTOR'S HANDS, WHO WAS CALMLY SEWING HER THERE. I STOOD... AND AS I STARED, HER VAGINA SUDDENLY BECAME A WIDE, RED, PULSING HEART. THE HEART IS CAPABLE OF SACRIFICE. SO IS THE VAGINA. THE HEART IS ABLE TO FORGIVE AND REPAIR. IT CAN CHANGE ITS SHAPE TO LET US IN IT CAN EXPAND TO LET US OUT. SO CAN THE VAGINA. IT CAN ACHE FOR US AND STRETCH FOR US, AND DIE FOR US. AND BLEED AND BLEED US INTO THIS DIFFICULT... WONDROUS WORLD. SO CAN THE VAGINA. I WAS THERE IN THE ROOM. I REMEMBER.
.
.
I WAS THERE WHEN HER VAGINA CHANGED... FROM A SHY, SEXUAL HOLE TO AN ARCHAEOLOGICAL TUNNEL, A SACRED VESSEL, A VENETIAN CANAL, A DEEP WELL WITH A TIN Y STUCK CHILD INSIDE, WAITING TO BE RESCUED. I SAW THE COLORS OF HER VAGINA. THEY CHANGED. SAW THE BRUISED BROKEN BLUE, THE BLISTERING TOMATO RED, THE GRAY-PINK, THE DARK, SAW THE BLOOD-LIKE PERSPIRATION ALONG THE EDGES, SAW THE YELLOW, WHITE LIQUID, THE SHIT, THE CLOTS PUSHING OUT ALL THE HOLES, PUSHING HARDER AND HARDER, SAW THROUGH THE HOLE, THE BABY'S HEAD. SCRATCHES OF BLACK HAIR, SAW IT JUST THERE, BEHIND THE BONE. LIKE A HARD, ROUND MEMORY, AS THE NURSE FROM THE UKRAINE KEPT TURNING AND TURNING HER SLIPPERY HAND.
I WAS THERE WHEN EACH OF US, HER MOTHER AND I, HELD A LEG AND SPREAD HER WIDE, PUSHING WITH ALL OUR STRENGTH AGAINST HER PUSHING, AS HER HUSBAND STERNLY COUNTING, "ONE, TWO, THREE," TELLING HER, "FOCUS, FOCUS HARDER." WE LOOKED INTO HER THEN. WE COULDN'T GET OUR EYES OUT OF THAT PLACE. WE FORGET THE VAGINA, ALL OF US. WHAT ELSE WOULD EXPLAIN OUR LACK OF AWE, OUR LACK OF REVERENCE? I WAS THERE WHEN THE DOCTOR REACHED IN WITH ALICE IN WONDERLAND SPOONS AND THERE AS HER VAGINA BECAME A WIDE, OPERATIC MOUTH SINGING WITH ALL ITS STRENGTH, FIRST THE LITTLE HEAD. THEN THE GRAY FLOPPING ARM… THEN THE FAST, SWIMMING BODY, SWIMMING QUICKLY INTO OUR WEEPING ARMS.
I WAS THERE LATER, WHEN I JUST TURNED I TURNED AND I FACED HER VAGINA. I STOOD AND I LET MYSELF SEE HER, ALL SPREAD, COMPLETELY EXPOSED, MUTILATED, SWOLLEN, TORN, BLEEDING ALL OVER THE DOCTOR'S HANDS, WHO WAS CALMLY SEWING HER THERE. I STOOD... AND AS I STARED, HER VAGINA SUDDENLY BECAME A WIDE, RED, PULSING HEART. THE HEART IS CAPABLE OF SACRIFICE. SO IS THE VAGINA. THE HEART IS ABLE TO FORGIVE AND REPAIR. IT CAN CHANGE ITS SHAPE TO LET US IN IT CAN EXPAND TO LET US OUT. SO CAN THE VAGINA. IT CAN ACHE FOR US AND STRETCH FOR US, AND DIE FOR US. AND BLEED AND BLEED US INTO THIS DIFFICULT... WONDROUS WORLD. SO CAN THE VAGINA. I WAS THERE IN THE ROOM. I REMEMBER.
.
.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
Short Cuts
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MARIAN
we're just talking, right?
RALPH
Yes, Marian.
MARIAN
We're just talking! You want me to tell you the truth?
RALPH
That's all I've ever asked, Marian.
MARIAN
Okay. He kissed me. Does that satisfy you?
RALPH
Did it satisfy you?
MARIAN
Everybody was pretty far gone, as you may or may not know.
RALPH
Marian, I don't really need all this perspective, just the facts.
MARIAN
All right. All right, Ralph. Okay. Somehow... somehow the two of us were elected to go out and get liquor. We drove to the Foremost, which was closed... and then to Cappy's, which was also closed. In fact, everything was closed. I mean, I was beginning to wonder whether anything would be open... and all I could think of were those all-night supermarkets, and I wondered whether anybody would even be in the mood for a drink... if we had to drive around half the night looking for an open market. He was really drunk. I hadn't even realized how drunk he was until we started driving. And he was driving, he was driving terribly slow. He was all hunched over the wheel, and we were talking. We were talking about a lot of things... A lot of things that didn't make sense... I mean, about, uh, religious images... and about this about this painter, this painter named Larry Rivers. And, uh -And then he started talking about Norman Mailer... and about how Norman Mailer stabbed his wife in the breast. And he said he'd hate it if anybody did that to me. He said he'd like to kiss my breast. And then he pulled the car over to the side of the road, and... then he kissed me.
RALPH
How long?
MARIAN
How long what?
RALPH
How long did he kiss you? Then what?
MARIAN
Then he said, "Do you wanna have a go at it?"
RALPH
Jesus, Marian. "Do you wanna have a go at it?" [...] What does that mean, Marian? […] Did you touch him?
MARIAN
Touch him? Touch him? Okay, Ralph. Ralph, you wanna know what happened? He kissed me, and I kissed him back. And then we did it. We did it right there in the car.
He fucked me right there in the car. I was drunk. It didn't mean anything to me. I wish it hadn't happened, but it did. Is that all? Is that all you wanna know? Is that all?
RALPH
Yes, Marian. That's all.
MARIAN
Ralph, he didn't come in me. I swear to God, he didn't come in me.
RALPH
Okay.
.
.
MARIAN
we're just talking, right?
RALPH
Yes, Marian.
MARIAN
We're just talking! You want me to tell you the truth?
RALPH
That's all I've ever asked, Marian.
MARIAN
Okay. He kissed me. Does that satisfy you?
RALPH
Did it satisfy you?
MARIAN
Everybody was pretty far gone, as you may or may not know.
RALPH
Marian, I don't really need all this perspective, just the facts.
MARIAN
All right. All right, Ralph. Okay. Somehow... somehow the two of us were elected to go out and get liquor. We drove to the Foremost, which was closed... and then to Cappy's, which was also closed. In fact, everything was closed. I mean, I was beginning to wonder whether anything would be open... and all I could think of were those all-night supermarkets, and I wondered whether anybody would even be in the mood for a drink... if we had to drive around half the night looking for an open market. He was really drunk. I hadn't even realized how drunk he was until we started driving. And he was driving, he was driving terribly slow. He was all hunched over the wheel, and we were talking. We were talking about a lot of things... A lot of things that didn't make sense... I mean, about, uh, religious images... and about this about this painter, this painter named Larry Rivers. And, uh -And then he started talking about Norman Mailer... and about how Norman Mailer stabbed his wife in the breast. And he said he'd hate it if anybody did that to me. He said he'd like to kiss my breast. And then he pulled the car over to the side of the road, and... then he kissed me.
RALPH
How long?
MARIAN
How long what?
RALPH
How long did he kiss you? Then what?
MARIAN
Then he said, "Do you wanna have a go at it?"
RALPH
Jesus, Marian. "Do you wanna have a go at it?" [...] What does that mean, Marian? […] Did you touch him?
MARIAN
Touch him? Touch him? Okay, Ralph. Ralph, you wanna know what happened? He kissed me, and I kissed him back. And then we did it. We did it right there in the car.
He fucked me right there in the car. I was drunk. It didn't mean anything to me. I wish it hadn't happened, but it did. Is that all? Is that all you wanna know? Is that all?
RALPH
Yes, Marian. That's all.
MARIAN
Ralph, he didn't come in me. I swear to God, he didn't come in me.
RALPH
Okay.
.
.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Last Tango in Paris
.
PAUL
My father was a... a drunk. Tough. Whore-fucker, bar-fighter. Super-masculine. And he was tough.
My mother was very... Very poetic. And also a drunk. And... one of my memories, when I was a kid, was of her being arrested nude. We lived in this small town. Farming community. We lived on a farm. And I'd come home after school and she'd be gone. In jail... or something.
And... I used to... I used to have to milk a cow every morning and every night and I liked that. I remember... one time I was all dressed up to go out and take this girl to a basketball game. And I started to go out and my father said, "You have to milk the cow." I said, "Would you please milk it for me?" And he said, "No, get your ass out there." So I went out and I was in a hurry and didn't have time to change my shoes. And I had cowshit all over my shoes. And on the way to the basketball game, it smelled in the car.
.
.
PAUL
My father was a... a drunk. Tough. Whore-fucker, bar-fighter. Super-masculine. And he was tough.
My mother was very... Very poetic. And also a drunk. And... one of my memories, when I was a kid, was of her being arrested nude. We lived in this small town. Farming community. We lived on a farm. And I'd come home after school and she'd be gone. In jail... or something.
And... I used to... I used to have to milk a cow every morning and every night and I liked that. I remember... one time I was all dressed up to go out and take this girl to a basketball game. And I started to go out and my father said, "You have to milk the cow." I said, "Would you please milk it for me?" And he said, "No, get your ass out there." So I went out and I was in a hurry and didn't have time to change my shoes. And I had cowshit all over my shoes. And on the way to the basketball game, it smelled in the car.
.
.
The prophecy
.
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
Ah, you look like a Thomas. Hey. Look at me.
THOMAS
You want me to look at you? Huh?
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
You know how you got that dent in your top lip? Way back, before you were born, I told you a secret, then I put my finger there... and I said, "Shh."
[…]
THOMAS
Did you ever notice how in the Bible, whenever God needed to punish someone... or make an example, or whenever God needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? A whole existence spent praising your God, but always with one wing dipped in blood.
Would you ever really want to see an angel?
[…]
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
She won't feel anything, honest. I have to rip her apart, of course.
[…]
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
I'm an angel. I kill firstborns while their mamas watch. I turn cities into salt. I even, when I feel like it, rip the souls from little girls. And from now till kingdom come, the only thing you can count on, in your existence, is never understanding why.
You, give me a kiss.
[...]
SATAN
We must talk.
KATHERINE
Oh, my God.
SATAN
God? God is Love. I don't love you.
KATHERINE
I… I can't. I can't do this.
SATAN
I can lay you out and fill your mouth with your mother's feces. Or we can talk.
KATHERINE
Are you one of them?
SATAN
Them?
KATHERINE
Are you an angel
SATAN
I am the first angel, loved once above all others. A perfect love. […] You see, I'm not here to help you and the little bitch... because I love you or because I care for you, but because two hells is one hell too many... and I can't have that.
[…]
KATHERINE a THOMAS
I saw the devil tonight.
[…]
SATAN
Little Tommy Dagget. How I loved listening to your sweet prayers every night. And then you'd jump in your bed, so afraid I was under there.
And I was.
Do you know what hell really is, Thomas? It's not lakes of burning oil or chains of ice. It's being removed from God's sight, having His Word taken from you.
[…]
THOMAS
If you wanted to prove your side was right, Gabriel, so badly, why didn't you just ask Him? Why didn't you just ask God?
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
Because... He doesn't talk to me anymore.
.
.
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
Ah, you look like a Thomas. Hey. Look at me.
THOMAS
You want me to look at you? Huh?
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
You know how you got that dent in your top lip? Way back, before you were born, I told you a secret, then I put my finger there... and I said, "Shh."
[…]
THOMAS
Did you ever notice how in the Bible, whenever God needed to punish someone... or make an example, or whenever God needed a killing, he sent an angel? Did you ever wonder what a creature like that must be like? A whole existence spent praising your God, but always with one wing dipped in blood.
Would you ever really want to see an angel?
[…]
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
She won't feel anything, honest. I have to rip her apart, of course.
[…]
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
I'm an angel. I kill firstborns while their mamas watch. I turn cities into salt. I even, when I feel like it, rip the souls from little girls. And from now till kingdom come, the only thing you can count on, in your existence, is never understanding why.
You, give me a kiss.
[...]
SATAN
We must talk.
KATHERINE
Oh, my God.
SATAN
God? God is Love. I don't love you.
KATHERINE
I… I can't. I can't do this.
SATAN
I can lay you out and fill your mouth with your mother's feces. Or we can talk.
KATHERINE
Are you one of them?
SATAN
Them?
KATHERINE
Are you an angel
SATAN
I am the first angel, loved once above all others. A perfect love. […] You see, I'm not here to help you and the little bitch... because I love you or because I care for you, but because two hells is one hell too many... and I can't have that.
[…]
KATHERINE a THOMAS
I saw the devil tonight.
[…]
SATAN
Little Tommy Dagget. How I loved listening to your sweet prayers every night. And then you'd jump in your bed, so afraid I was under there.
And I was.
Do you know what hell really is, Thomas? It's not lakes of burning oil or chains of ice. It's being removed from God's sight, having His Word taken from you.
[…]
THOMAS
If you wanted to prove your side was right, Gabriel, so badly, why didn't you just ask Him? Why didn't you just ask God?
ARCANGEL GABRIEL
Because... He doesn't talk to me anymore.
.
.
The dark knight (final)
.
GORDON
The Joker won. Harvey’s prosecution, everything he fought for, everything Rachel died for. Undone. Whatever chance Gotham had for fixing itself... Whatever chance you gave us of fixing our city... dies with Harvey’s reputation. We bet it all on him. The Joker took the best of us and tore him down. People will lose all hope.
BATMAN
No. they won’t. They can never know what he did.
GORDON
Five dead? Two of them cops? We can’t sweep that under…
BATMAN
No. But the Joker cannot win. Gotham needs its true hero.
GORDON
You? You can’t.
BATMAN
Yes, I can. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. I can do those things because I’m not a hero, like Dent. I killed those people. That’s what I can be.
GORDON
No, you can’t! You’re not!
BATMAN
I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be.
[…]
GORDON
They’ll hunt you.
BATMAN
You’ll hunt me. You’ll condemn me, set the dogs on me, because it’s what needs to happen. Because sometimes the truth isn’t good enough. Sometimes, people deserve more.
JAMES
Batman!
Why’s he running, Dad?
GORDON
Because we have to chasse him…
JAMES
He didn’t do anything wrong!
GORDON
Because he’s the hero Gotham deserves… but not he one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero, he’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector… a dark knight.
.
.
GORDON
The Joker won. Harvey’s prosecution, everything he fought for, everything Rachel died for. Undone. Whatever chance Gotham had for fixing itself... Whatever chance you gave us of fixing our city... dies with Harvey’s reputation. We bet it all on him. The Joker took the best of us and tore him down. People will lose all hope.
BATMAN
No. they won’t. They can never know what he did.
GORDON
Five dead? Two of them cops? We can’t sweep that under…
BATMAN
No. But the Joker cannot win. Gotham needs its true hero.
GORDON
You? You can’t.
BATMAN
Yes, I can. You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. I can do those things because I’m not a hero, like Dent. I killed those people. That’s what I can be.
GORDON
No, you can’t! You’re not!
BATMAN
I’m whatever Gotham needs me to be.
[…]
GORDON
They’ll hunt you.
BATMAN
You’ll hunt me. You’ll condemn me, set the dogs on me, because it’s what needs to happen. Because sometimes the truth isn’t good enough. Sometimes, people deserve more.
JAMES
Batman!
Why’s he running, Dad?
GORDON
Because we have to chasse him…
JAMES
He didn’t do anything wrong!
GORDON
Because he’s the hero Gotham deserves… but not he one it needs right now. So we’ll hunt him, because he can take it. Because he’s not our hero, he’s a silent guardian, a watchful protector… a dark knight.
.
.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Shawshank Redemption
.
RED
Get busy living or get busy dying. That is goddamn right. For the second time in my life, I am guilty of committing a crime. Parole violation. I doubt they'll toss up any roadblocks for that. Not for an old crook like me.
I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain...
I hope I can make it across the border.
I hope to see my friend and shake his hand.
I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.
I hope.
.
.
RED
Get busy living or get busy dying. That is goddamn right. For the second time in my life, I am guilty of committing a crime. Parole violation. I doubt they'll toss up any roadblocks for that. Not for an old crook like me.
I find I am so excited I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain...
I hope I can make it across the border.
I hope to see my friend and shake his hand.
I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams.
I hope.
.
.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Friday the 13th (2009)
.
Roger Ebert comenta sobre Viernes 13, el remake del 2009.
So far in the series, he has been drowned, sliced by a machete in the shoulder, hit with an ax in the head, supposedly cremated, aped by a copycat killer, buried, resurrected with a lightning bolt, chained to a boulder and thrown in the lake again, resurrected by telekinesis, drowned again, resurrected by an underwater electrical surge, melted by toxic waste, killed by the FBI, resurrected through the possession of another body, returned to his own body, thrown into hell, used for research, frozen cryogenically, thawed, blown into space, freed to continue his murder spree on Earth 2, returned to the present, faced off against Freddy Krueger of "Nightmare on Elm Street," drowned again with him, and made to emerge from Crystal Lake with Freddy's head, which winks.
.
.
Roger Ebert comenta sobre Viernes 13, el remake del 2009.
So far in the series, he has been drowned, sliced by a machete in the shoulder, hit with an ax in the head, supposedly cremated, aped by a copycat killer, buried, resurrected with a lightning bolt, chained to a boulder and thrown in the lake again, resurrected by telekinesis, drowned again, resurrected by an underwater electrical surge, melted by toxic waste, killed by the FBI, resurrected through the possession of another body, returned to his own body, thrown into hell, used for research, frozen cryogenically, thawed, blown into space, freed to continue his murder spree on Earth 2, returned to the present, faced off against Freddy Krueger of "Nightmare on Elm Street," drowned again with him, and made to emerge from Crystal Lake with Freddy's head, which winks.
.
.
Taxi Driver
.
TRAVIS
Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars…
sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There’s no escape. I’m God’s lonely man.
June.
My life has taken another turn again. The days move along with regularity, over and over. One day indistinguishable from the next.
A long continuous chain. Then suddenly, there is a change.
[…]
Faster than you, you fuckin' son of a… I saw you comin’, you fuckin’ shit-heel.
I’m standin’ here. You make the move. You make the move. It’s your move. Don’t try it, you fuck.
You talkin’ to me?
You talkin’ to me?
You talkin’ to me?
Then who the hell else are you talking… You talking to me?
Well, I’m the only one here.
Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Oh, yeah?
Listen, you fuckers, you screw-heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. Who would not let…
Listen, you fuckers, you screw-heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum… the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit.
Here is someone who stood up.
Here is… You're dead.
.
.
TRAVIS
Loneliness has followed me my whole life, everywhere. In bars, in cars…
sidewalks, stores, everywhere. There’s no escape. I’m God’s lonely man.
June.
My life has taken another turn again. The days move along with regularity, over and over. One day indistinguishable from the next.
A long continuous chain. Then suddenly, there is a change.
[…]
Faster than you, you fuckin' son of a… I saw you comin’, you fuckin’ shit-heel.
I’m standin’ here. You make the move. You make the move. It’s your move. Don’t try it, you fuck.
You talkin’ to me?
You talkin’ to me?
You talkin’ to me?
Then who the hell else are you talking… You talking to me?
Well, I’m the only one here.
Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? Oh, yeah?
Listen, you fuckers, you screw-heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. Who would not let…
Listen, you fuckers, you screw-heads. Here is a man who would not take it anymore. A man who stood up against the scum… the cunts, the dogs, the filth, the shit.
Here is someone who stood up.
Here is… You're dead.
.
.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Clerks
.
RANDAL
You know what else I noticed in Jedi?
[…]
RANDAL
Well, the thing is, the first Death Star was manned by the Imperial army-storm troopers, dignitaries- the only people onboard were Imperials.
DANTE
Basically.
RANDAL
So when they blew it up, no prob. Evil is punished.
DANTE
And the second time around?
RANDAL
The second time around, it wasn't even finished yet. They were still under construction.
DANTE
So?
RANDAL
A construction job of that magnitude would require a helluva lot more manpower than the Imperial army had to offer. I'll bet there were independent contractors working on that thing: plumbers, aluminum siders, roofers.
DANTE
Not just Imperials, is what you're getting at.
RANDAL
Exactly. In order to get it built quickly and quietly they'd hire anybody who could do the job. Do you think the average storm trooper knows how to install a toilet main? All they know is killing and white uniforms.
DANTE
All right, so even if independent contractors are working on the Death Star, why are you uneasy with its destruction?
RANDAL
All those innocent contractors hired to do a job were killed-casualties of a war they had nothing to do with.
All right, look-you're a roofer, and some juicy government contract comes your way; you got the wife and kids and the two-story in suburbia-this is a government contract, which means all sorts of benefits. All of a sudden these left-wing militants blast you with lasers and wipe out everyone within a three-mile radius. You didn't ask for that. You have no personal politics. You're just trying to scrape out a living.
BLUE-COLLAR MAN
Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt, but what were you talking about?
RANDAL
The ending of Return of the Jedi.
.
RANDAL
You know what else I noticed in Jedi?
[…]
RANDAL
Well, the thing is, the first Death Star was manned by the Imperial army-storm troopers, dignitaries- the only people onboard were Imperials.
DANTE
Basically.
RANDAL
So when they blew it up, no prob. Evil is punished.
DANTE
And the second time around?
RANDAL
The second time around, it wasn't even finished yet. They were still under construction.
DANTE
So?
RANDAL
A construction job of that magnitude would require a helluva lot more manpower than the Imperial army had to offer. I'll bet there were independent contractors working on that thing: plumbers, aluminum siders, roofers.
DANTE
Not just Imperials, is what you're getting at.
RANDAL
Exactly. In order to get it built quickly and quietly they'd hire anybody who could do the job. Do you think the average storm trooper knows how to install a toilet main? All they know is killing and white uniforms.
DANTE
All right, so even if independent contractors are working on the Death Star, why are you uneasy with its destruction?
RANDAL
All those innocent contractors hired to do a job were killed-casualties of a war they had nothing to do with.
All right, look-you're a roofer, and some juicy government contract comes your way; you got the wife and kids and the two-story in suburbia-this is a government contract, which means all sorts of benefits. All of a sudden these left-wing militants blast you with lasers and wipe out everyone within a three-mile radius. You didn't ask for that. You have no personal politics. You're just trying to scrape out a living.
BLUE-COLLAR MAN
Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt, but what were you talking about?
RANDAL
The ending of Return of the Jedi.
.
Barton Fink
.
ACTOR
I'm blowin' out of here, blowin' for good. I'm kissin' it all goodbye, these four stinkin' walls, the six flights up, the el that roars by at three A.M. like a castiron wind. Kiss 'em goodbye for me, Maury! I'll miss 'em – like hell I will!
ACTRESS
Dreaming again!
ACTOR
Not this time, Lil! I'm awake now, awake for the first time in years. Uncle Dave said it: Daylight is a dream if you've lived with your eyes closed. Well my eyes are open now! I see that choir, and I know they're dressed in rags! But we're part of that choir, both of us… yeah, and you, Maury, and Uncle Dave too!
MAURY
The sun's coming up, kid. They'll be hawking the fish down on Fulton Street.
ACTOR
Let 'em hawk. Let 'em sing their hearts out.
MAURY
That's it, kid. Take that ruined choir. Make it sing!
ACTOR
So long, Maury.
MAURY
So long.
MAURY
We'll hear from that kid. And I don't mean a postcard.
OLDER MAN
FISH! FRESH FISH!
LILY
Let's spit on our hands and get to work. It's late, Maury.
MAURY
Not any more Lil... It's early.
.
ACTOR
I'm blowin' out of here, blowin' for good. I'm kissin' it all goodbye, these four stinkin' walls, the six flights up, the el that roars by at three A.M. like a castiron wind. Kiss 'em goodbye for me, Maury! I'll miss 'em – like hell I will!
ACTRESS
Dreaming again!
ACTOR
Not this time, Lil! I'm awake now, awake for the first time in years. Uncle Dave said it: Daylight is a dream if you've lived with your eyes closed. Well my eyes are open now! I see that choir, and I know they're dressed in rags! But we're part of that choir, both of us… yeah, and you, Maury, and Uncle Dave too!
MAURY
The sun's coming up, kid. They'll be hawking the fish down on Fulton Street.
ACTOR
Let 'em hawk. Let 'em sing their hearts out.
MAURY
That's it, kid. Take that ruined choir. Make it sing!
ACTOR
So long, Maury.
MAURY
So long.
MAURY
We'll hear from that kid. And I don't mean a postcard.
OLDER MAN
FISH! FRESH FISH!
LILY
Let's spit on our hands and get to work. It's late, Maury.
MAURY
Not any more Lil... It's early.
.
Blade Runner
.
DECKARD
Replicants are like any other machine. They can be a benefit or a hazard. If it's a benefit, it's not my problem.
RACHAEL
May I ask a personal question?
DECKARD
Sure.
RACHAEL
Have you ever retired a human by mistake?
DECKARD
No.
RACHAEL
But in your position that is a risk.
TYRELL
Is this to be an empathy test? Capillary dilation of the so-called blush response… fluctuation of the pupil, involuntary dilation of the iris…
DECKARD
We call it Voight Kampff for short.
RACHAEL
Mr. Deckard. Dr. Eldon Tyrell.
TYRELL
Demonstrate it. I want to see it work.
DECKARD
Where's the subject?
TYRELL
I want to see it work on a person. I want to see a negative before I provide you with a positive.
DECKARD
What's that gonna prove?
TYRELL
Indulge me.
DECKARD
On you?
TYRELL
Try her.
.
.
DECKARD
Replicants are like any other machine. They can be a benefit or a hazard. If it's a benefit, it's not my problem.
RACHAEL
May I ask a personal question?
DECKARD
Sure.
RACHAEL
Have you ever retired a human by mistake?
DECKARD
No.
RACHAEL
But in your position that is a risk.
TYRELL
Is this to be an empathy test? Capillary dilation of the so-called blush response… fluctuation of the pupil, involuntary dilation of the iris…
DECKARD
We call it Voight Kampff for short.
RACHAEL
Mr. Deckard. Dr. Eldon Tyrell.
TYRELL
Demonstrate it. I want to see it work.
DECKARD
Where's the subject?
TYRELL
I want to see it work on a person. I want to see a negative before I provide you with a positive.
DECKARD
What's that gonna prove?
TYRELL
Indulge me.
DECKARD
On you?
TYRELL
Try her.
.
.
Good Fellas
.
HENRY
Funny. You're really funny.
TOMMY
What do you mean?
HENRY
It's funny, you know. It's a good story. You're a funny guy.
TOMMY
You mean the way I talk? What?
HENRY
It's just, you know. You're just funny. You know, the way you tell the story.
TOMMY
Funny how? What's funny about it?
MAN
You got it all wrong.
TOMMY
He's a big boy. He knows what he said. Funny, how?
HENRY
Just, you know. You're funny.
TOMMY
Let me understand this. Maybe I'm a little fucked up. But I'm funny how? Funny like a clown? I amuse you? I'm here to fucking amuse you? What do you mean, funny? How am I funny?
HENRY
You know, how you tell a story.
TOMMY
I don't know. You said it. You said I'm funny. How am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me? Tell me what's funny.
HENRY
Get the fuck out of here, Tommy.
TOMMY
Motherfucker! I almost had him.
.
.
HENRY
Funny. You're really funny.
TOMMY
What do you mean?
HENRY
It's funny, you know. It's a good story. You're a funny guy.
TOMMY
You mean the way I talk? What?
HENRY
It's just, you know. You're just funny. You know, the way you tell the story.
TOMMY
Funny how? What's funny about it?
MAN
You got it all wrong.
TOMMY
He's a big boy. He knows what he said. Funny, how?
HENRY
Just, you know. You're funny.
TOMMY
Let me understand this. Maybe I'm a little fucked up. But I'm funny how? Funny like a clown? I amuse you? I'm here to fucking amuse you? What do you mean, funny? How am I funny?
HENRY
You know, how you tell a story.
TOMMY
I don't know. You said it. You said I'm funny. How am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me? Tell me what's funny.
HENRY
Get the fuck out of here, Tommy.
TOMMY
Motherfucker! I almost had him.
.
.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Citizen Kane
ASSISTANT 1
What's Rosebud?
RAYMOND
That's what he said when he died.
NEWSPAPERMAN 2
Did you ever find out what it means?
THOMPSON
No, I didn't.
PHOTOGRAPHER
What did you find out about him, Jerry?
THOMPSON
Not much, really. We'd better get started.
NEWSPAPERMAN 3
What have you been doing all this time?
THOMPSON
Playing with a jigsaw puzzle.
What's Rosebud?
RAYMOND
That's what he said when he died.
NEWSPAPERMAN 2
Did you ever find out what it means?
THOMPSON
No, I didn't.
PHOTOGRAPHER
What did you find out about him, Jerry?
THOMPSON
Not much, really. We'd better get started.
NEWSPAPERMAN 3
What have you been doing all this time?
THOMPSON
Playing with a jigsaw puzzle.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Noticia: Una isla sin mar
.
.
En preventa en Casa del libro: Una isla sin mar
César Silva Márquez, 2009
Random House Mondadori, Barcelona.
Precio: 21.12€
La portada será otra, aunque seguirá siendo de Manuel Álvarez Bravo. Pronto más información.
.
En preventa en Casa del libro: Una isla sin mar
César Silva Márquez, 2009
Random House Mondadori, Barcelona.
Precio: 21.12€
La portada será otra, aunque seguirá siendo de Manuel Álvarez Bravo. Pronto más información.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
No country for old men
Bell
I don't know. Had dreams.
Loretta
Well you got time for 'em now. Anything interesting?
Bell
Well they always is to the party concerned.
Loretta
Ed Tom, I'll be polite.
Bell
Okay. Two of 'em. Both had my father. It's peculiar. I'm older now'n he ever was by twenty years. So in a sense he's the younger man. Anyway, first one I don't remember so well but it was about money and I think I lost it. The second one, it was like we was both back in older times and I was on horseback goin through the mountains of a night ...Goin through this pass in the mountains. It was cold and snowin, hard ridin. Hard country. He rode past me and kept on goin. Never said nothin goin by. He just rode on past and he had his blanket wrapped around him and his head down... and when he rode past I seen he was carryin fire in a horn the way people used to do and I could see the horn from the light inside of it. About the color of the moon. And in the dream I knew that he was goin on ahead and that he was fixin to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold, and I knew that whenever I got there he would be there. Out there up ahead.
I don't know. Had dreams.
Loretta
Well you got time for 'em now. Anything interesting?
Bell
Well they always is to the party concerned.
Loretta
Ed Tom, I'll be polite.
Bell
Okay. Two of 'em. Both had my father. It's peculiar. I'm older now'n he ever was by twenty years. So in a sense he's the younger man. Anyway, first one I don't remember so well but it was about money and I think I lost it. The second one, it was like we was both back in older times and I was on horseback goin through the mountains of a night ...Goin through this pass in the mountains. It was cold and snowin, hard ridin. Hard country. He rode past me and kept on goin. Never said nothin goin by. He just rode on past and he had his blanket wrapped around him and his head down... and when he rode past I seen he was carryin fire in a horn the way people used to do and I could see the horn from the light inside of it. About the color of the moon. And in the dream I knew that he was goin on ahead and that he was fixin to make a fire somewhere out there in all that dark and all that cold, and I knew that whenever I got there he would be there. Out there up ahead.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Kill Bill
Bill
Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there's the superhero and there's the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn't become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red "S"... that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him.
Those are his clothes. What Kent wears - the glasses, the business suit - that's the costume. That's the costume Superman wears to blend in with us.
Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent?
He's weak... he's unsure of himself... he's a coward.
Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race.
Now, a staple of the superhero mythology is, there's the superhero and there's the alter ego. Batman is actually Bruce Wayne, Spider-Man is actually Peter Parker. When that character wakes up in the morning, he's Peter Parker. He has to put on a costume to become Spider-Man. And it is in that characteristic Superman stands alone. Superman didn't become Superman. Superman was born Superman. When Superman wakes up in the morning, he's Superman. His alter ego is Clark Kent. His outfit with the big red "S"... that's the blanket he was wrapped in as a baby when the Kents found him.
Those are his clothes. What Kent wears - the glasses, the business suit - that's the costume. That's the costume Superman wears to blend in with us.
Clark Kent is how Superman views us. And what are the characteristics of Clark Kent?
He's weak... he's unsure of himself... he's a coward.
Clark Kent is Superman's critique on the whole human race.
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