Saturday, May 21, 2011

Lewis Electron Dot Structure Clf2

Count


. Although social networks such mega-cool, I want, I try, I intend to keep this blog. Although in Facebook (I do not clarify with the mentioned Twitter and I do not think I ever will clarify : P ) there is an interaction almost immediately and I preferred it over MSN to communicate with my friends, there are many issues I consider more "propitious" for the blog. So, if time permits, lol, I will continue to war in these parts. The next July 1 will mark the sixth anniversary


xD. A couple of weeks ago I published the beginning of the novel Dracula Stoker commemorating the dates chosen to give comienzo a su historia :) Sólo por el gusto de hacerlo. No hubo ningún otro motivo. Aunque en el camino redescubrí que un 26 de mayo de 1897 se puso a la venta la primera edición de Drácula. También me enteré que hace poco tiempo se subastó uno de estos ejemplares con el plus de que estaba firmado por el mismísimo Bram Stoker. Pinchar aquí y morir de envidia, hahahaha.


. La próxima semana se emitirá el penúltimo capítulo de la adaptación a tele de La Reina del Sur , la novela de Arturo Pérez-Reverte, en Antena 3. En este lado del mundo condensaron la telenovela (con todas sus letras) a formato serie moderna y de 70 capítulos rose to 13 original: P had not said anything in hopes of trying to digest the adaptation. Moreover, just a boat soon, and much convinced me the choice of casting and how well they had it on Telemundo currado no expense spared to film on both sides of the Atlantic. Kate del Castillo had psyched pretty well and was the hit of Teresa Mendoza. But he painted so well at first, it was becoming an almost unspeakable adaptation. Not good, nor bad. Rather ... rare : /

And while Perez-Reverte had been agreed and all had made it clear that no sequels, that history would not allow he himself, the "elements" that were added here and there the writers, left a strange aftertaste. And it's not "my" Teresa, I figured reading the novel, was almost untouchable or as perfect, but in the TV adaptation is not noticeable progress not only within the world of drug trafficking, but the staff, the most important I think. No notice is the guts to move forward alone. In the adaptation always seem to "support" someone to either move forward to stay in the destination that you chose.

Vale, in the novel there is a narrator onmisciente and perhaps to reflect what goes on Teresa's head would have to resort to monologues. But, example, I "block" to forge unity with the girls in the brothel where one of them becomes its virtual soul sister. Nor that have created almost shoehorn, the kind of crush the bastard lawyer uses only. The change is so fundamental that at every point and every point of the novel, both inside and outside, in the TV adaptation is only shown with a change in makeup and costume : / insist, is note that for once in his career, Kate del Castillo has worked to make it believable performance, but "his" Teresa Mendoza is static. Not evolve.

Patty Bravo Bravissimo by O'Farrell (Cristina Urgel) for Pot Galvez (Dagoberto Gama) and Santiago Finisterre (Iván Sánchez), best of all the casting, because even Humberto Zurita is saved as the boss of bosses : P "Skip" a lot of that left northern imposed to Epigmenio Vargas and only reminds us of any comic. I find it pathetic how he plays or plays the mobster Oleg ruski Yasikov (Alberto Jiménez). Does not fit anywhere in the description in the novel. Me on the alleged special agent Guadalupe Romero (Sara Maldonado) ending to the hilt in love with Lieutenant O'Farrell. And I miss those details so curious (and most suitable for readers geeks, hehehehe) the principle of adaptation which transfers the dialogues and expressions of the novel.

It was a good effort, may mark a precedent in the world of soap operas, but it is not to throw rockets happiness: P At first I just thought it was a curious detail, but at this stage of the issue, I do not understand adaptation which was cut to thirteen episodes for broadcast in Spain. Not that filmed two versions: simple and easy to edit almost clean machete: P tried to be faithful to the novel, including the vocabulary, which at the side of the world has given them confidence to be meat, all Otherwise this problem which is issued without whatsoever. And yet in Spain decided to broadcast it in serial format. I do not know how bad feeling as I was announcing telenovela.


. I've seen all three seasons of Sons of Anarchy xD premiere in September quarter and die for her. Much convinced me the story and how to present the stories. There are plenty of things that only mean those who have known or living within the biker world and that is very attractive to newcomers but also possible, that is little identification with the average viewer. Codes in the locker room, in the form of action, in relationships. Some well displayed and other exaggerated : P Maybe that does the series have the same amount of fans than detractors. Curious that the same show with full, try to avoid it as the attempt to mount a Hamlet in the biker scene :)

I was surprised by the performance of Katey Sagal as the matriarch of this large family biker. It will only remember her as the tacky Married With Children : P But now, with more than fifty years, has finally found a role that has given up her first Emmy and revealed a beautiful voice. Big Ron Pearlman, like all the roles she has played throughout his career. Charlie Hunnam, with the air that sometimes gives the deceased Heath Ledger, making the "Prince" Jax, is also compelling and almost surprising. In itself, I find more successes than failures, than any, Hayles, lol. There is also an excellent choice of both songs on the soundtrack of each chapter and in the header.


. I have fond Castle, The Mentalist and Bones . Series that are not flower of a day and marked its particular character. Achieve a balance between drama and comedy and strive to bring cases "studied." Charismatic characters with lives outside the police stations. And there's chemistry between the three main characters. Me surprised and very, David Boreanaz that after passing through his role in Buffy and Angel, I thought it would make life difficult for another character so radically different. It has also been a success the casting of the voices that bend the three series. Do not sound like "old acquaintances" as if there were only a handful of actors to bend all TV series and all movies. Moreover, who doubled to Patrick Jane, The Mentalist series of the same name, gives a special touch to your tone of voice. I know not what :)



***

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Win And Win Archery Catalog

Eyes open!



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuLPJg2gwjQ

"eyes" - Oomph


Cornerstone, cornerstone - Everything must be hidden

Again, I lie in wait
Because we play our game
Again I wait at the wall
again, I am just before the target

And I hear your breath And I smell your fear

I no longer can wait
because I know what you want

Cornerstone, cornerstone - Everything must be hidden

1,2,3,4,5,6 , 7,8,9,10
eyes open - I'm coming!
not show yourself!

I constantly call your name I'm always looking for your face

When I finally have you
Play truth or dare we

Cornerstone, cornerstone - Everything must be hidden 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10


eyes open - I'm coming!
not show yourself!
hiding up

eyes on me .... come!
eyes open - I'm coming!
eyes open - I'm coming!
eyes open - I'm coming!
Look out - here I come!
not show yourself!


***

Cornerstone, cornerstone, everything has to be hidden

Again, I couch
For we are playing our game
Again, I wait at the wall
Again, I'm just in front of the goal

And I hear your breath And I smell your fear

I can not wait anylonger
For I know what you claim

Cornerstone, cornerstone - everything has to be hidden

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10
Eyes open - I'm coming!
Don't show yourself!
Hide yourself

All along, I'm calling your name
All along, I'm looking for your face
When I finally get you
We play truth or dare

Cornerstone, cornerstone - everything has to be hidden

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10
Eyes open - I'm coming!
Don't show yourself!
Hide yourself

Eyes open, I'm... coming!
Eyes open - I'm coming!
Eyes open - I'm coming!
Eyes open - I'm coming!
Look out - I'm coming!
Do not show yourself!




the album "Wahrheit oder Pflicht" (2004) *******




Because the evil spirit does not belong to adults ;-)



***

Sunday, May 15, 2011

How To Shrink Too Big Wool Sweater

200 years ago, the Albuera


story I have not one of those stories of voyages and war stories that I like to remember from time to time. He also spent years without mentioning the mother of perfidious Albion, which as you know the veterans of this page, it was always my favorite historical enemy. If as a reader I enjoy books that have episodes sea or land, I enjoy much more when those palms are British. As English-born everyone he can, not where you want, I am sick of all historians and British novelists, sweeping back home, describing the sailors and soldiers here as incompetent and cowardly mob that smelled of garlic. So when I have occasion to remember a set where the subjects of Her Gracious broke their horns, I enjoy such as suckling pig in carrot patch. Others like football.

This week, of Albuera makes it easy for me. On Monday, May 16 marks the bicentennial exactly when, during the war of Independence, 34,000 English, English and Portuguese fought there for five hours with 23,000 French who were to relieve Badajoz, rejecting. Two British brigades were nearly annihilated the English troops, registering even the cartridge from the dead, held the line against French raids, and in the field was killed or wounded one in five soldiers. The Albuera was one of the bloodiest battles of the war in Spain. And of course from British historians of the period, Napier, Londonderry, Oman, until now, all agree in attributing to his troops the weight of the battle, leaving the English, as did the Battle of Chiclana, aseadito a modest background. These spaniards poor boys, you know. Simple employees and such.

However, the reality was different. Letters and eyewitness accounts, English included, can now establish what really happened in the Albuera. And was that the right flank corresponding to the English troops, situated on a hill in front of only 600 meters wide, there walked into the main French attack. Maintaining their position under fire recruits horrific-4 Guards Battalion fell in the same place where they were, without breaking the formation, "the English attacks rejected two gringos. To already be out of ammo when starting the third, the British brigade Colborne was a step to get in front line and support the third assault. But instead of staying on the hill, the British, eager to prove that for them, and really chulito always fought very well in the war of Spain advanced toward the enemy troops without realizing that imperial cavalry was stationed nearby. The British brigade was destroyed, as well as another that was about. Taking a tactical error that caliber, two brigades of His Majesty passed through the meat grinder blade, it was hard to swallow for Wellington. And when he read the part where the general Beresford told what happened, he demanded another where you omitted the disastrous maneuver, and the fact that resisted English alone the first two rounds. I wanted something that sounded more English tenacious and heroic resistance. And that second version, adapted to British national pride, was published by the press and officially adopted in the history books.

One of the most detailed current English military historians, José Manuel Guerrero Acosta, has taken in recent years the work of dusting all those parts of war, proving what I have just told. With great irritation, by the way, as the distinguished British colleagues Charles Esdaile, that during a recent conference in Warsaw rose, angry, to say that this review of what happened in the Albuera "offends the memory of British troops who fought in Spain. " Curious statement, indeed, a historian who does not seem to offend the memory of hundreds of English women raped when British troops entered Badajoz, Ciudad Rodrigo and San Sebastian, and his fellow historians and novelists who have two hundred years making sure that, in Peninsular War, Napoleon's troops were defeated only by Wellington, sometimes, yes, with the grudging cooperation, of course, English for the miserable mob, in the glorious and heroic battles always English, merely take the jug.


Arturo Perez-Reverte
XL Semanal
15 de mayo de 2011




***

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Will Olive Oil Cause Diherra In Dogs

Tonight, I'll die in black and white



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIwAe5Cv67Q

"Hitchcock Starlet" - Horrorpops


the moon, on a blackened sky
here i wait, by the light tower
a pair of lights, comes closer down the road on a thunderful night
he drives to meet me here

tonight, i'll die in black and white
just like a hitchcock star
thrown in his arms tonight
i'll die in hitchock light

the wind plays with my hair
as he touched my cheek
to catch a red tear
HIS chin feels rough when he
Whispers in my ear "tonight you will, which, as a Hitchcock Starlet"

tonight, I'll in black and white
just like a Hitchcock star
Thrown in HIS arms tonight I'll
in Hitchcock light

tonight, I'll in black and white
just like a Hitchcock star
Thrown In His arms tonight I'll
in Hitchcock

I'll light in
Hitchcock in Hitchcock star



Del album "Kiss Kiss Kill Kill" (2008)




***

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Indian Frequency Channels

Leave a bit of happiness that brings


Cuando les vi desaparecer en la blackness, I felt a strange chill and I felt a sense of loneliness, but the driver gave me a cloak over his shoulders and a blanket over his knees, and said in excellent German:

"The night is cold, mein Herr and my master the Count has ordered me to take care of you. There is a bottle of slivovitz (plum brandy of the country) underneath the seat, if you like.

not tried it but it was a comfort to know he was there, anyway. I felt a little strange, and quite scared. I think you have had any other choice, I would have used, instead of continuing this night journey did not know where. the carriage ran at full speed, then gave a full turn and veered down a narrow road. I thought we crossed over and over again the same places, so I took a few salient reference and found that it was. I would have liked to ask the driver what this all meant, but I dared not, for he thought, however, little would have earned my protests if he had decided to delay. Later, however, was curious to know how much time had passed, struck a match and looked at my watch the glow of the flame was a few minutes to twelve. This gave me a kind of shock, as recent experiences, I had become particularly sensitive about the general superstition about that time. I waited with an anxious sense of uncertainty.

At that moment, in some distant farm dog began to howl: it was a cry of anguish, time, such as fear. To this was added another dog, then another and another, until swept away by the wind now blew gently esfiladero eld, there was a chorus of howls that seemed to come from throughout the region, as impressed by the imagination in the blackness of night. The horses reared the first howl. The driver spoke to them gently, calmed down, but shivered and sweated and after a reckless. Then in the distance, and from lasmontañas of UNOY other hand, heard a howling, the strongest of wolves, which affected us the horses and me equally, because I wanted to jump from the buggy and run, whilst they reared again and bucked wildly, so that the driver had to make use of all forces to prevent the bolt. A few minutes later, however, my ears had become accustomed to the howls and the horses had died down, so the driver could descend and approach them. Caressed and soothed, whispering in her ear as do the trainers, which had an extraordinary effect, as after their caresses became manageable again, though still trembling. The driver again took his seat and shook the reins, rode off at speed. This time, to reach the other end of the gorge suddenly got a narrow road that twisted sharply to the right.

Shortly after we enter a place full of trees, which in some places were arch over the road, giving the impression that ran through a tunnel, and once again we were escorted by large and menacing cliffs that rose to both sides. Although the land was protected, I heard wind was rising, it moaned and whistled through the rocks, and rattled tree branches as we passed. The cold grew at times and snow began to fall a fine powder form, so that soon covered in white around us. The biting wind, but grew weaker amedida we went, trailing even the barking of dogs. The howls of wolves could be heard getting closer, as if we were surrounded on all sides. I was terribly frightened, and the horses shared my fear, but not altered elcochero least. From time to time turned his head left and right, although I could not see anything in the dark.

suddenly left, I saw the distant flicker of a flame flickering bluish. The driver saw it at the same time as me, held the horses immediately after they landed, he disappeared into the darkness. I do not know what to do and less with the howling of wolves ever closer, but while he hesitated, the driver reappeared, took his seat without saying a word, resume their march. I think I should fall asleep and dream the same incident, and now, to think of it, strikes me as a horrible nightmare.

Finally, the driver made a new stop and left more than other times, during his absence the horses began to shake violently and puffing and snorting of terror. I could not find the cause, but at that moment, and between black clouds, the moon emerged from behind the jagged crest of a rocky hill of pines, and found that we were surrounded by a circle of white wolves fangs red tongues hanging, long and sinewy legs and hair disheveled. There were a hundred times more terrible in the grim silence when howling. I was paralyzed with terror. Only when man comes face to face with these terrors is the time to understand its true importance.

Suddenly, the wolves began to howl again as the moon s had exercised a strange influence on them. The horses reared, looking around so pitiful, but the terror of living fence around them everywhere and they were forced to remain within it. Shouted the driver to return, I found that our salvation was elc erco and help break up. I screamed and hit the side of the carriage, hoping to ward off wolves towards that side and give it the opportunity to come to the door. I do not know how he did it, but the fact is that I heard him raise his voice in a tone of authority, and looking in that direction onmóvil saw him in the middle of the road. He waved his arms like an obstacle sweeping impalpable and wolves were receding more and more. Just then crossed in front of the moon a dense cloud, and again sank everything in darkness.

When I got to distinguish the things again, the driver was climbing into the carriage and the wolves had disappeared. All this was so strange and mysterious that I felt overwhelmed, and I dared not speak or move. The time seemed interminable as we ran, now almost in complete darkness, as the restless clouds had obscured the moon. We kept going up. although occasionally a sudden came down, our journey was uphill. I suddenly realized that the driver drove the horses into the courtyard of a vast ruined castle, whose high and dark windows will not see a single flash and whose pared crumbling battlements jagged silhouette against the moonlit sky.

II


Journal of Jonathan Harker (Continued)


May 5

I should fall asleep, as if it had been fully awake I would have realized that we were approaching this extraordinary place. In the darkness, the courtyard looked large, but as he departs for several hits under their arches, perhaps gave me the impression that it was greater than in reality. I have not seen daylight.

Stopping the buggy, the driver jumped the ground and held out his hand to help me lose. Again I had the opportunity to see his prodigious strength. His hand seemed truly a steel mechanism able to squeeze mine if I wanted. Then he took my luggage and put it on the floor beside me, before a huge door, old and studded with large nails, under a projecting stone portico. I could see, even in the dim light, the stone was carved in a stunning, but its sculptured ornaments seemed badly eroded by rain and time. The driver, meanwhile, jumped back into his seat and shook the reins, pulled the horses and the car disappeared down one of the dark arches.

I was quiet where he was, and he did not know what to do. There was no sign of knocker or bell, it was unlikely that my voice managed to go through these walls, these windows severe and in darkness. Seemed endless waiting and I was struck a pile of doubts and fears. What kind of place he had come, and among what kind of people were? What sinister adventure I had embarked? Was it a regular event in the life of a trainee lawyer, who sent him to explain to a foreigner the negotiations on the purchase of a property in London? Intern lawyer! Mina would not have liked. Advocate ... Because just before leaving London I learned that he had passed the exam, I am now attorney with all of the law! I started to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if he was awake. All this seemed like a horrible nightmare, and suddenly wake up and expect to be home with daylight filtering through the windows, as sometimes happened to me after a day of overwork. But my flesh answered the pinching test, and my eyes were not mistaken. I was actually awake, and in the Carpathians. All I could do now was to be patient and wait for daylight.

Just when I came to this conclusion on the other side I heard heavy footsteps approaching the door, and through your cracks I saw the glow of a light approaching alike. Then came a sound of heavy chains and locks to be rolled back. He turned a key to the creaking sound made by a long disuse, and opened the door.

Inside was a tall old man, shaven face, but with a big white mustache, and dressed in black from head to foot, without a single note of color throughout. In his hand he held an antique silver lamp, which burned a flame, no tube or balloon to protect her, which cast long shadows trembling hesitation in the flow of the open door. The old man made a gesture of courtesy to the right hand and said in excellent English, albeit with a strange accent:

- Welcome to my home! Enter freely and of their own volition!

He made no gesture out to greet me, but stayed where he was like a statue, as though his gesture of welcome would have petrified. However, at the moment I crossed the threshold impulsively moved towards me and reaching out, I took mine with such force that I could not suppress a wince, a gesture that does not mitigate the fact that the cold had as ice ... so much so that I found it the hand of a dead one alive. Repeated,

"Welcome to my home. Among freely. Spend without fear. And leave it a little bit of happiness it brings!

The force with which I had shaken hands were so parecidaa of the driver, whose face he did that for a moment I thought if I was talking to the same person, so that, to make sure I said inquiringly:

- Count Dracula?

He nodded and said,

"I am Dracula. I welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house. Spend the night air is cold, and probably need to eat and rest.




Dracula Bram Stoker
Translation
Francisco Torres Oliver
Alianza Editorial, 1981


***


Wednesday, May 4, 2011

How Long Until Anorexia Shows

For the dead travel fast


May 4


I learned that the owner of the hotel had received a letter from the Count with instructions that you reserve the best seat in the diligence but when asked certain details, was somewhat reticent, and pretended not to understand my German. Could not be true, because until that point I had understood to perfection, at least he answered my questions as if I understood well. He and his wife. the elderly woman who had received me, looked scared. He murmured that he had received the money along with a letter, and that was all he knew. Asked if he knew Count Dracula, and if he could tell me about his castle, both crossed themselves, and after telling me that they knew nothing at all, refused to continue talking. So little was missing for a start, he had no time to ask anyone else, but it was all very mysterious and very little tranqulizador.

Shortly before leaving, the lady came to my room and cried, almost on the verge of hysteria:

- Do you have to go? Oh young Herr , does that go?

was so excited I seemed to have lost command of German he knew and was jumbled with another language completely unknown to me. I was only able to continue his speech on the basis of him many questions. When I said I was leaving soon, and that was on an important issue, I asked

- Do you know what day is today?

I replied that it was May 4. She shook her head, and exclaimed:

- Oh, yeah! I know, I know!, But you know what day it is? "And the answer I did not understand, he continued:" It is the eve of St. George. Did you know that tonight, when the clock strikes twelve, all evil beings walk freely around the world? Do you know where you are going and what goes? He showed

so evident distress that I tried to reassure her, but to no avail. Finally, he fell to his knees and implored me not away, to wait at least a day or two before you go. It was a ridiculous scene, but it made me feel uncomfortable. However, it was a matter to be resolved and could not consent to nothing obstructed. So I tried to lift it, and I said, as gravely as I could, which was grateful, but my duty did not admit delay, and had no choice but to go. Then he got up and wiped his eyes and taking off the neck a crucifix, he offered me. I did not know what to do because as a member of the Anglican Church have taught me idolatrous consider these things, and at the same time I felt a lack of courtesy to make a slight to an old lady so well intentioned and in such a mood. I guess he saw the doubt in my face, because I wore the rosary around her neck and said:

- for his mother.

and left the room. This part of the day I'm writing while I wait for the diligence, which of course has already late, and still carry the crucifix long around the neck. I do not know if they will be the fears of this lady, but I have no mood calm as before. If this book came to Mina before I do, take you my last goodbye. Here comes the coach!




May 5. The castle


The gray of the morning has dissipated, and the sun is very high compared to the distant horizon, which seems jagged, because I do not know if the trees or the hills, are so far things big merge with smaller ones. I'm awake, so as I get to bed until the time you want, I write to entertain a sleepy feeling. I have many strange things to score, and for that read them do not think I ate too much before leaving Bistritz consignaré here was exactly what the menu. I took what they call "robber steak" pieces bacon, onion and beef, all seasoned with pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted in a fire, the simple style of horse meat is sold on the streets of London! The wine was a Mediasch gold, and produces a strange itch in the language, however, is not unpleasant. Only took a couple of glasses and nothing else.

when I got on the coach, the coachman hbía not yet taken his seat, I saw him chatting with the lady of the inn. Obviously, talking about me, because when he glanced in my direction, and some people sitting on a bench near the door, which they call with a name that means "tavern" - had come to listen and turned to face me, almost all with a look of pity. I heard frequently repeated certain words, strange words, as there were people of all nationalities from the meeting, so I took my bag quietly multilingual dictionary and looked it up. I confess that I was filled with animation, since among other found Ordog, Satan Pokol, hell stregoica , witch and Vrolok vlkoslak, also mean (a Slav and one in Serbian ) something like a werewolf or vampire ( Mem, ask Count about these superstitions.)

When we started, the crowd congregations in the door of the inn, which at that time had increased significantly, made the señla of the cross and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty, I managed to ask another passenger to explain to me what it meant, at first refused to answer, but knowing that I was English, he said it was a spell or protection from the evil eye. This did not seem very nice about me, who was leaving for an unknown region to meet a man she had never seen, but all were so ebnévolos and so afflicted, and amnifestaron such compassion that I could not but feel moved. I will never forget the last image of the inn, with that many people in picturesque attire, all crossing themselves, under the arch, cut out against a background of abundant planting oleanders and orange trees in green tubs clustered in the center of the courtyard. Then, our driver, whose wide linen drawers, which they call here Gotz - covered almost entirely on the box, blew his huge whip over the four horses, they went to a time and set off.

Soon they left behind the fears spectral forgotten the beauty of the scenery through which we traveled, though, had I known the language-or While the language-speaking my colleagues, I would perhaps not so easily dispelled. Before us lay an undulating land, full of planted forests and steep hills crowned by groups of trees or houses, with white nastiales glued to the road. Everywhere were staggering amounts of blossoming fruit: apple, plum, pear and cherry trees, to be closer, we see that the grass growing underneath was dotted with fallen petals. In amongst these green hills of what they call the Mittel Land ran the road, losing to describe a curve, or to hide the vague boundary of a pine forest, which when then down the slopes like a tongue of fire. The road was uneven, peroparecía we flew by it to feverish speed. I did not understand why such a hurry, but the driver was evidently determined not to lose time to reach the Borgo Pound. I was told that this road was excellent in the spring, but had not yet settled after the winter snows. In Eset sense, is different from the roads in the Carpathians in general, as there is an old tradition that should not keep them in too good condition. Since time immemorial, the hospodars (Slavic word meaning "love" or "lord") do not want to fix them for fear that the Turks believe that the foreign troops prepare to move and move quickly to provoke war, in fact, is always about to explode.

While running for the endless road, the sun fell increasingly behind us and the afternoon shadows began to grow around us. This effect is further accentuated as the setting sun was illuminating the snowy peaks that seemed to cast a rosy glow and cold sensitive. From time to time we passed with some Czechs and Slovaks, all in costume. Along the road there were many crosses, and when we went fast with them, my traveling companions crossed themselves. sometimes saw to any farmer or peasant kneeling in front of a chapel and even turned the pass Nostro, but seemed devoted to a devotion that had no eyes and ears for the outside world. By late afternoon began to cool and dusk haze seemed to plunge into a dark gloom of the trees, oak, beech and pine trees, "though in the valleys ran deep between the spurs of the mountains, when we climbed into the gorge, black firs stood against a backdrop of freshly fallen snow. Sometimes when the road passed through the pine forests in the darkness seemed to close upon us, the masses of gray, which spilled here and there trees spectral effect produced singularly solemn and favoring the gloomy thoughts and imaginings that suggested the sunset when the evening sun highlighted the strange ghostly clouds slid steadily between the valleys of the Carpathians. Sometimes the hills are so steep that, despite the driver's haste, the horses were forced to keep up. I wanted to get out and walk with them, as we do in my country, but the driver would not consent.

- No, no, "he said, you can not walk down here, the dogs are too fierce" and added, so obviously wanted to be a sinister joke, then turned to make a smile approvingly of others-and you have enough before bedtime tonight.

The only time he stopped was to light the lanterns.

When darkness fell, the passengers were nervous and, one after another, began to say things to the coachman, and urging him to be quicker. He mercilessly harassed horses with his great whip, and encouraged them to take more with angry shouts of encouragement. Then, amid the darkness, I made a kind of gray clearly before us, as if it were a crack between the hills. The nervousness of passengers increased, the local swayed diligence on the main spring leather and heeling like a ship buffeted by a stormy sea. I had to grab me. The road became more level and it seemed we were flying. Then, the mountains were close to one to the other side, ciñiéndose threatening to us: we were entering the Borgo Pass. Several passengers offered me gifts, insisting that a veheencia accept that brooked no negative, were more varied and strange, but each gave it to me in simple good faith with a kind word and a blessing, and that strange mix fearful gestures had already observed Bistritz front of the hotel, the sign of the cross and protection against the evil eye. Then, as we ran, the driver leaned hacia delante y los pasajeros, asomándose a uno y a otro lado dle coche, escrutaron ansiosamente la oscuridad. Era evidente que esperaban o temían que sucediera algo muy emocionante, pero aunque pregunté a cada uno de los pasajeros, ninguno quiso darme la más ligera explicación. en ese estado de nerviosismo se prolongó durante un rato; por fin, vimos abrirse el desfiladero hacia oriente. El cielo estaba poblado de nubes oscuras e inquietas, y en el aire flotaba una sensación densa y opresiva de tormenta. Parecía como si la cordillera hubiese dividido la atmósfera en dos y entráramos ahora en la parte tormentosa. Yo mismo me asomé, tratando de divisar el vehículo que debía llevarme hasta el conde. Esperaba, pero everything was dark. The only light we perceived were the flickering rays of our lantern, which made visible the vapor given off by our exhausted horses, in the form of white cloud. Now we could distinguish the sandy road in front of us, but there was no sign of another vehicle. The passengers were sprawled with a sigh of relief that seemed a mockery of my disappointment. I had been thinking about what to do now, when the driver, looking at his watch, told others what I heard with difficulty, and he said it quietly, I think was: "One hour ahead." Then, turning to me, "he added in German worse than mine:

- No carriage. Do not expect Herr. So you will have to come to Bucovina and return rmañana last year, better past.

As he spoke, the horses began to whinny and plunge wildly, so that the driver had to hold them. Then, while the peasants he did exclaim in chorus and crossed themselves, we reached a carriage with four horses and stood next to the coach. In the glow of our lanterns noticed that the horses were a splendid animal, black as coal. The guiding a tall man with long brown beard and a large black hat that hid his face. I only saw the flash of a pair very bright-eyed and red in time to turn towards us. He told the driver: "Come

before the time tonight, friend.

The man stammered

"The English Herr hurry.

To which the stranger replied:

"Therefore, I suppose, is what led you to Bucovina. You can not fool me, man, I know too much and my horses are very fast.

smiled when talking, and our lanterns illuminated a hard mouth, very red lips and sharp teeth white as ivory. One of my companions whispered to another verse Lenore, Burger:


Denn die Toten
Reiten schnell (For the dead travel fast)


The unknown driver evidently heard the comment, because he raised his eyes glowing smile. The passenger looked away while crossing herself with two fingers.

"Give me the Herr's luggage said that of the carriage.

I tended my travel bag with amazing and he quickly settled into his carriage. Then I descended from the diligence, the gig was located very near the door and the stranger helped me, holding my arm with an iron hand, should you have a prodigious force. Without saying a word, shook the reins, the horses were turn and we plunged into the darkness of the gorge. Looking back I saw the steam of the horses of the coach in the light of lanterns and cut on it, the figures of my former companions crossing themselves. Then the driver cracked his whip over his horses and reconvene its quick trip to Bucovina.



(continued)




***

Metal Core Green And Black Wheels

Requiem for



Journal of Jonathan Harker (Edited shorthand)


May 3, Bistritz


I left Munich
on 1 May at 20.35 pm, and came to Vienna the next morning, should have arrived at 6.46, but train was an hour late. Budapest seems a wonderful city, so I watched from the train and the little that I could walk the streets. I dared not move away from the station as we had arrived late and would come out as possible according to schedule. The impression I got was that we left we went into West and East, the most western of splendid bridges over the Danube, which here takes on a noble width and depth, took us to the traditions of Turkish domination. We went

good time, and we Klausenburgh after dark. Here, I stopped to stay overnight at the Hotel Royale. I had dinner chicken seasoned with red pepper, very good, but was very thirsty ( Mem., Get recipe for Mina.) I asked the waiter, and said called hendl paprika, which is the national dish, so it could take anywhere along the Carpathians. Here I have proved my rudimentary German course, I do not understand how it could have without them.

In London, I took a few hours I had free to go to the British Museum to consult books and maps bibliotecareferentes to Transylvania, I thought it would be helpful to have the advance some idea of \u200b\u200bthe country, before meeting a nobleman there. I found that the region which is referred to at the end of the territory, just on the borders of three states, Transylvania, Moldavia and Bukovina, in the midst of the Carpathian Mountains, and is one of the most remote and least known Europe. I did not get discover in any book or map the exact location of Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country comparable to our Ordnance Survey maps, but found out that Bistritz, the city where Count Dracula was said to dismount, was well known . Consignaré are some things to help me remember when you talk to Mina trip.

Transylvania's population consists of four distinct nationalities: Saxons in the south, and mixed with them, the Vlachs, who are descendants of the Dacians, the Magyars to the west, and Székely east and north. I am among the latter, who claim to be descendants of Attila the Hun. It may be, for when the Magyars conquered the country in the eleventh century they found the Huns settled in it. I read that in the horseshoe of the Carpathians gather all the superstitions of the world as if it were the center of a sort of swirl of the imagination, and if so my stay is going to be interesting ( Mem ., Asking to count on this.)

did not sleep well, but the bed was quite comfortable, I had all sorts of weird dreams. A dog howling all night at the foot of my window, maybe that was why, or maybe it was because of the paprika, because I drank all the water in the jar, and I was still thirsty. I slept when the morning dawned, and I woke up the repeated calls to my door, so I guess I should stay asleep. I made breakfast more paprika, and a kind of porridge made with cornmeal here called mamaliga and stuffed eggplant, delicious dish called impletata ( Mem ., Demand also recipe). I had breakfast quickly because the train started a little before eight, or rather should leave at that time, because after running to get to the station at 7.30 am I sat in the car for over an hour, to boot. I get the feeling that the further east we go, the less specific with trains. How will they be in China?

employ the whole day to traverse a region full of natural beauties of all kinds. Sometimes we could see small villages and castles on top of jutting mountains, as seen in the ancient murals, others ran along rivers and streams that, judging by its broad, stony margins on either side, seem to suffer major floods. It takes a lot of water, and run hard, so that the water will sweep its shores. In all seasons there were groups of Grente, sometimes crowded, with all kinds of ornaments. Some men were just igualq ue farmers of my country, or as I've seen across France and Germany, with short jackets, their hats and pants round home-made, others however, were very picturesque. Women seem nice, if not see them up close, but have very wide waist. They wear long white sleeves of various kinds, and most are restricted a wide belts with a lot of tapes that move around as a ballet dress, although, naturally, carry lower skirts. The strangest figures we saw were the Slovaks, more barbarian than the rest, with big cowboy hats, baggy pants and light colored, white linen shirts and a huge leather belts, nearly a foot wide, studded with nails brass. They wore boots, pants embutín in them, and had long hair and thick mustache and black. They are very picturesque, but not attractive. In the theater they immediately recognize the role of other eastern band of outlaws. However, I am told, are harmless, and they lack natural assumption.

When it was evening, we Bistritz, which is an old city and very interesting. Since it is practically on the border-for the Borgo Pass leads from there to Bukovina-has had an eventful existence, and certainly shows signs of it. Fifty years ago, there was a series of fires that caused terrible disasters on five separate occasions. Very beginning of the sixteenth century, suffered a three-week siege, which killed thirteen thousand people because of the war and ensuing famine and disease.

Count Dracula had directed me to my accommodation at the Golden Krone Hotel, which proved to be very old, much to my delight, because, of course, quero see how ueda on usage. Obviously I expected, because when you reach the door I got an old lady, cheerful expression, dressed in peasant garb ahbitual-white skirt and apron double front and back, colored cloth, too tight for modesty. Once at his side, greeted me with a nod, and said

- Does Herr English?

- Yes, I said, I'm Jonathan Harker.

smiled, and gave directions to an old man in shirt sleeves, who had followed her to the door. That man disappeared, and returned immediately with a letter


Dear friend:

Welcome to the Carpathians. We look forward to. Rest tonight. Tomorrow at the three exit the diligence to Bucovina, I booked it for you. My car will be waiting at the Borgo Pass to bring up here. I hope you had a nice trip from London, and that you enjoy your stay in my beautiful country.

His friend. DRACULA





Bram Stoker's Dracula

Francisco Torres Oliver Translation
Alianza Editorial



1981 ***

Monday, May 2, 2011

I Put Milk In My Keurig

Starting typewriter


The news has caused me deep grief, such as causing the death of an old friend with whom contact was lost long ago and had forgotten. Closed the last company that manufactured typewriters and definitely off the mechanistic metallic sound as it approached closing time thundered in newspaper newsrooms.

has had to close to find out that the only one who resisted was India's Godrej & Boyce, which was first built in the 50's and has finally succumbed to the lack of orders. Its general manager, Milind Dukla, tells the Daily Mail until 2009, followed by manufacturing between 10,000 and 12,000 machines each year they bought, apparently, defense agencies, courts and government offices. I read the news in the IPAD and, hours later, I smiled after reading the tablet touch CNN blog with the denial of a New Jersey company, which claims continue to manufacture typewriters China factories , Japan and Indonesia, but who want comfort? They are talking about electronic machines and memory banks that just keep some resemblance to my beloved Olivetti.

is best to get the idea. The typewriter died long ago and had not even held a funeral, elated with our new electronic companions, not only in black and white set our ideas, but also the interrelated and submitted to the speed of light to form part of a network infinite, a new universe under which to describe the old machine was buried many pages back.

Personally, I do not remember the last day I used it, although I keep very old stories that I shared with several colleagues today. Paloma Gómez Borrero, with the same tenacity that the plant at Bombay, has continued using it until she was arrested on suspicion of terrorism several international airports that followed the Pope. For some, fashion is still an object, as James Bobin, of Rolling Stone , who is seeking a. Rafaela strongly recommended that hoary recycle museum piece to leave at home from our parents and a friend on Facebook you recommend me follower of this blog which shows that there is life beyond the front door of a machine shop writing. Nostalgia? No way! I undertake not to sell on E-Bay collector pieces left in my family, even if prices rise after death, but that's it.

Rosalia Sanchez

Blog Chronicles from Europe

World April 26, 2011 *******




I do not know but I have some speed typing typing thanks to a little girl fingered the typewriter one of my guys:) I think it was a Smith-Corona almost metallic gray. A purchase of second hand now do not know where you ended up ... a shame: P Not long after, another guy gave me my dear Olivetti Lettera 32 :) faithful companion and working like few others. Even in 2002 still used it and was mocked director of the magazine where I worked last ¬ ¬ had to deliver an item and without pc own and no time to go to a cybercafe, I pulled out my portable machine. The director of the mentioned magazine, I asked why he was still living in the caves : /

Eye, also had a power, but over time, I had many problems with the roll after he was hooked a tag labeled. I took a technician, I was returned in good condition, but soon began to fail and it was not so simple or cheap to find the reels of tape he used. Years it is a "decorative motif" more than my home desktop in Mexico : P




***

Denise Milani New Arrivals

giving way. Or Beltane



One of the things we are getting from all the confusion all in terms of political correctness. The bombing of stupidity mixed with noble causes and pollution of them, the accomplices who sign up by what people say, people of good will disoriented by the gulfs, and bays, we make peer-to-business all subsidized, lack training to survive the tsunami in imbeciles that overwhelms us, sweeps and asphyxia has managed to wander around the rock, not knowing what to expect. Not daring to step naturally, expressing an opinion, even make certain gestures or movements, for fear of unintended consequences, critical raves, social sanctions, including fines and administrative proceedings, is suddenly back against one and they do steaks.

I will give two examples warm. One is the friend a week ago, to make way for a woman here would be inaccurate to say to a lady at the entrance to a building, he found to his surprise, that the individual not only stopped, refusing to happen first, but also angry, spat in the face word "Macho." So imagine the amazement of my friend, his face Linnet keeping the door open, not knowing what to do. Wondering if in case of a man, who also gives way to simple reflection of good education, would call "feminist." Aggravated by the fact that, given the possibility that the man was homosexual-course in that case, maybe I should go ahead, "or Mrs. were gay, maybe she should hold the door for him, should have guessed, intuit or guess before establishing whether it was right to go first or not. Or whether, in any case, to rush to be first, and close the door on the other, whoever he was, would resolve the dilemma or trilemma tetralemma so satisfactory to all.

But my drama does not end there, my friend commented. Because from that day, he added, can not stop spinning. What if I am in a door with a Mayan Indian, a Moor of the Moors or a dark-skinned sub-Saharan Africa, formerly black synthetically? "I'll turn over or not I give it? If you step forward, "call me a racist? If you hold the door to pass, do not look like a paternalistic and neo-colonial gesture? "It contravenes the Equal Treatment Act or Trick? What if a woman, feminist and also afrosaharianasubnegra? How do I organize myself? Should I try to move on both at once, even if the gate is narrow and does not fit? ... Yet there may be worse. What if this is a decreased or diminished physical or physical? "Give way or pass it will not, in the eyes of yours or third party evidence so humiliating an alleged inequality, contrary to the equality exquisite compels me dura lex sed lex, Duralex? Should I take a run and pass in time so that the door is closed again when the other and a fag, sorry, elegetebé last? ... On the other hand, if I suddenly start to run, is interpreted as a provocation Paralympic fascist? Should I pretend not to see the wheelchair? ... So, is anyone able to tie these flies by the tail? Well

. If we face such insomnia adults, who supposedly have references and common sense to look for life, calculated what is happening to the children, submitted by a party to the stupid brainwashed adult and facing it with implacable logic and honest, yet unpolluted crap, its a few years. The penultimate event a teacher referred me. A four-year-old had made a prank in class, teasing peers, and to be rebuked before the other, a little fly, he asked who had betrayed him. "Fulanita, for example," said the teacher pointing to a blonde girl with blue eyes, "says you are very naughty and not let her work quietly." Then the creature-four years, insist slowly turned to look at girls and said softly, but audibly, "Well, I'm going from the mouth, snitch." Appalled, the teacher intended the child disfigured, saying among other things that girls should not ever hit them, and so on. That's the worst thing, the most vile, cowardly and evil. And then the dwarf goat, after pondering a moment, very calm and logical, he replied: "Why? Do not match the children? ".


Arturo Perez-Reverte
XL Semanal
May 1, 2011





***

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Why Do Only Some Spots Burst





http://www.youtube.com/watch? v = H43204V0p04

"Beltaine" - Beltaine


Beltane, May 1, ancient Celtic ritual to say goodbye to the dark days of winter and welcome the season warm and bright. Fertility rites to promote good harvests and fires to attract the heat of the fire. All flowers, there is life in the environment.

Beltane is an anglicized derived from the Irish Gaelic Bealtaine or Scottish Gaelic means Bealtuinn Bel-fire, the fire of the Celtic god of light: Bel, Beli or Belinus. Other names for this festival which is also known as Mayday : Cetsamhain , the opposite of Samhain and Walpurgisnacht or Walpurgis in Germany. ***



Friday, April 29, 2011

How Much Does Nipple Piercing Hurt



Photo: AFP


13:32 (approximately) I love that Katherine has chosen to sign for your dress Alexander McQueen Wedding:) And I was moved, what the hell ... Both fought McQueen while it was upstream, the son of a single driver. So good that was and is and irreparable loss to not exceed the death of his mother ...

This was updating my Facebook status. It goes without saying that I was referring to the royal wedding of Prince William and his fiancée Kate or now, Catherine. I liked the line of dress and veil simple and short. Although there are opinions that "destroy" literally the decision of a young woman while not the most classic that has been, not wearing a strident style. In addition, met the standard of showing a long tail, but not excessive. Probably because of sheer convenience.

And'm a little embarrassed designers and others who have English specialty was to minimize the election or who have swallowed the control of Alexander McQueen's style is just bizarre and extravagant. I have read your opinions on The World and yet, in El Pais, published an article that explains everything an informed decision that includes the design of the house McQueen, particularly in the case, of course, of the British royal :


Kate returns Icarus wings

How to save a secret ? Lying, of course. Despite repeated denials by the spokespersons of the firm Alexander McQueen Sarah Burton himself was responsible for designing the wedding dress of Catherine Middleton. A decision fraught with meaning, drama and history leading to abundant literature in the coming days.

"Miss Middleton chose the British firm Alexander McQueen for the beauty of his craft, his respect for tradition and the technical construction of clothing. He wanted his clothes combine tradition and modernity and artistic vision that characterizes the work of Alexander McQueen, "said the statement issued by Clarence House in Middleton set foot outside the car.

Sarah Burton, 36, was Alexander McQueen's right hand for 12 years and charged happen after his death in February 2010. committed suicide at age 40 , unable to deal with his demons. Always obsessed with birds, like Icarus, embarked on a final flight to escape a world that did not fit. Catherine now has her wings back.

The choice of one of the most gifted designers, tortured inventive and contemporary fashion is bold. But it makes sense and great epic. In 2008, McQueen designed a collection that mixed references to Queen Victoria, India and the Duke of Wellington. It was one of the most beautiful of his career. "I have an elm tree of 600 years in my garden" then explained. "I imagined the story of a girl who lives in it and out of the darkness, she meets a prince and become queen." Middleton is not exactly out of darkness, but the image fits into this story like that of Cenicenta shoe.

is speculated that she was the director of British Vogue who advised Middleton who chose McQueen. Among other things, because the workshop is billing itself as an haute couture atelier. Burton's latest collection for the firm (the next fall / winter) was inspired by the "ice queen" and included appalling dress like a costume with a tail made with 500 meters of chiffon. Throughout his career, McQueen the failed exhibited a particular (albeit controversial) sensitivity to the history and royalty. Since graduating in Saint Martins in 1994 showed gestures rebels and anarchists. Declared "anarchist, atheist and anti-monarchist, but accepted an award from Queen Elizabeth II in 2003, who appointed him Commander of the British Empire (CBE):" I just picked it up because my parents gave them hope. "

course, a few weeks must have been intense for Sarah Burton. Sunday opens at the Metropolitan Museum in New York a retrospective on the career of designer entitled Savage Beauty.

exposure is the main flavor of the year, organized by the powerful Anna Wintour. A year after his death, Alexander McQueen achieved notoriety, recognition and popularity that the late designer probably never could have imagined in their most fevered dreams. The match is a true orgy for the economic interests of the company, owned by Gucci Group (the third of the global luxury sector.)

economic interest is not just for the company that makes the dress: it is hoped to be a boost to the British clothing industry. Therefore, the four pages of text Clarence House emphasize the British nature of the whole matter and provide full details. For example, the fit of the body wall and the skirt was made by the Royal School of Needlework (Royal School of Sewing). The technique used is called Carrickmacross and originated in Ireland in 1820. The intricate lace engineering was monitored by Burton and his team. Workers washed their hands every 30 minutes to keep the pristine fabric. The dress pays homage to the tradition of Arts and Crafts and Romanticism. Of course, all materials are UK suppliers.

Other details: the tail is 2.70 meters and body sharp padded waist and hips is a nod to the Victorian tradition, as well as one of the hallmarks of McQueen. In the back, there are 58 covered buttons gazar and organza. The veil has also been hand embroidered by the artisans themselves. Is held by Halo Tiara, Cartier, that George VI in 1936 gave the Queen Mother. This, in turn, gave it to her daughter (Queen Elizabeth II) for his 18 birthday. Diamond earrings, Robinson Pelham, have been a wedding gift from the bride's parents. Alexander McQueen

firm also dress her sister, Phillippa. The train of the bride with a big coordination. The maid of honor in his suit has the same buttons and trims of lace on the bride's. Girls are dressed by Nicki Macfarlane and Charlotte and their outfits were made with the same materials as the dress of Middleton.


Eugenia de la Torriente
The Country
April 29, 2011




***





Monday, April 25, 2011

Where Is My Camera Cannot Find My Camera

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Thursday, April 21, 2011

Danger Of Bluetooth Earpiece

God Save McQueen And this time I'm Not Leaving Without You



http:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=2HSex-i6z4w

"You and I" - Lady Gaga


It's Been a Long Time Since I Came around
It's Been Along time but I'm back in town
But this time I'm Not Leaving Without you

You taste like whiskey when you kiss me oooh
I’ll give up anything again to be your baby doll
Yeah this time I’m not leaving without you

You said sit back down where you belong
In the corner of my bar with your high heels on
Sit back down on the couch where we
Made love for the first time
And you said to me

There’s something, something about this place
Something about lonely nights and my lipstick on your face
Something something about my cool Nebraska guy
Yeah something about
Baby you and I

Been two years since I let you go,
I could’ve listened to a joke for rock n roll
And muscle cars drove a truck right through my heart

You taste like whiskey when you kiss me oooh
I’ll give up anything again to be your baby doll
Yeah this time I’m not leaving without you

You said sit back down where you belong
In the corner of my bar with your high heels on
Sit back down on the couch where we
Made love for the first time and you said to me,

There’s something, something about this place
Something about lonely nights and my lipstick on your face
Something something about my cool Nebraska guy

Yeah something about, baby you and I
You and I
You, you and I
You, you and I
You you and I
You and I
You you and I
You you and I

[piano solo]

You said sit back down where you belong
In the corner of my bar with your high heels on
Yeah you like the red ones
Sit back down on the couch where we Made love for the first time and you said to me,

There’s something, something about this place
Something about lonely nights and my lipstick on your face
Something something about my cool Nebraska guy
Yeah something about
Baby you and I

You and I
You and I
You you and I
You you and I
You and I

You you and I
You you and I
You you and I

Been along time since I came around
Its Been Along time but I'm back in town
And this time I'm Not Leaving Without You



first version of which is included on the album "Born this way" (2011)



** *****

Because this time I will not let go. Because we will not be separated.

xD ready in July




***

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Trowel Sizes To Use For Tiling

Kings of 'Glam'


Forty years after its peak, the most scandalous of musical movements is vindicated by the likes of the ubiquitous Lady Gaga . A recent book reveals that countless groups and artists tried to jump on the bandwagon of 'glam rock'.


The world has followed with amazement the ascension of Lady Gaga: a monster appears out of nowhere, but even the monsters have roots, influences, models: the impossible costumes, the theatrical sense and sexual ambiguity Stefani Angelina Joanne Germanotta us back to a unique moment in pop music. The glam rock, sometimes known as glitter rock, dominated the UK charts between 1971 and 1974, radiating to the rest of the planet.

Dave Thompson, the most prolific rock biographers, he prefers to extend that period. Just published a detailed catalog Children of the revolution, which covers every month from 1970 to 1975. There was a mass movement. Beneath the Stars - T. Rex, Slade, Sweet, Bowie ...- displayed hundreds of groups and soloists who simplified their music and turned to mascara. The theatrical release of Elton John and Freddie Mercury only be understood in the climate of tolerance generated by the glam rock, simplified in Spain and gay rock.

Until 1970, the popular music world homosexuality was the great taboo. British pop industry in the sixties was controlled in part by sodomites very cautious, not tolerating their wards to make the slightest concession. Not a chance! That would have been fatal to your career, assured: a minor incident had torpedoed the Johnnie Ray.

happened in 1970 that succeeded with Kinks Lola , the smiling story of a Soho innocent visit, he met a transvestite and discover happiness. Testimony to the ability of its leader, Ray Davies, is the fact that the BBC did not put stick to that argument ... Only forced to change a reference to Coca-Cola, recognized as surreptitious advertising. That same year, the hirsute Marc Bolan left the hippies, the group, Tyrannosaurus Rex, was transformed into T. Rex, while rock turned into a sticky, marked by the voice of sheep.

The formula took off. Bolan had discovered a huge hole. The music was marked by the progressive rock, elitist and difficult to hum, the prog rock was heard by a public university could hardly appeal to teenagers. For the gap T. Rex slipped strange animals, exhibiting tight pants, satin fabrics, platform boots, jewelry, makeup brazen glitter. Music was screaming, wet underwear, photos covering the walls of the bedroom. In short: the fans.

An explosion of fantasy and challenge a generation robbed. Many remember the impact of seeing David Bowie on TV beautiful as a god and exotic as an alien. Like Bolan, Bowie was standing on all sides possible: there was mod, hippy, folky, underground. But sexually experienced woman dressed languid for the 1971 LP, The man who sold the world. The following year was recycled in prototype rock star Ziggy Stardust . Cemented his reputation on stage as he knelt before Mick Ronson, guitarist, simulating fellatio through Gibson. Until then, Bowie confessed, had treated him "like a dumb blonde." Outposting

Bolan and Bowie can be misleading: they had a personal artistic vision. But most of the glam rock era music producers and composers. The team Nicky Chinn, Mike Chapman drew up hits for Sweet, Mud, Smokey and the rocker Suzi Quatro . The music was sticky and squeaky, sometimes with tribal rhythms based on mutations of rock and roll of the fifties. That allowed veterans such as Paul Raven and Shane Fenton reap success in the seventies, after renamed respectively as Gary Glitter and Alvin Stardust . In fact, this is a movement defined by its aesthetics than sound. had little to do with Roxy Music Slade . Some were cazurros who had tried everything before finding the formula sound, with titles making fun of English orthography. The other musicians representing more cultured.

glam letters tended to celebrate aggression, adolescent exuberance. Although adults are the work of composers, suggested the specter of a warlike youth and hormones. Among British biempensante society awakened a palpable fear, as Stanley Kubrick proved, after appearing imitators of Clockwork Orange violence. To silence criticism and threats, vetoed the exhibition of the film in the UK, a ban that lasted until his death.
The glam rock
cut the insurrectionary desire sixties. The closest thing to an anthem that had the glam was All the young dudes, David Bowie song of the group transferred in 1972 Mott the Hoople, who made explicit the generation gap: "My brother is at home / with his Beatles and his Stones / never inspired me the story of the revolution / what roll, too many complications. "

What was revolutionary about the glam rock would be found in the sexual liberation. The image of the groups could serve as a lever, as Sweet found his visit to the Franco TVE. When the musicians left their dressing rooms painted doors, someone decided they were too much for the viewer, although they were advertised on a program of the second string: "They're queer!". However, they were heterosexual.

If something catches the attention of the glam rock of the seventies is precisely its normal letters on the erotic. The only hit song is really explicit Walk in the wild side, describing the crowd polysexuality orbiting around Andy Warhol. Its author, Lou Reed, was grouped with the troops briefly glam, due to its creative relationship with Bowie and some minimal concessions to the gay bohemian New York. Clearly

apolitical, glam rock did not produce a single singer can claim homosexuality. It was not until 1977, when, taking advantage of the changing of the guard caused by the punk-appeared Tom Robinson, an artist identified with the Gay Liberation Front. That was taken as a pose. London boutiques abundant clothing and footwear provided for those who were playing bold misleading, as Mick Jagger or Rod Stewart.

In the United States had it harder. Identified with the glam rock groups in anything apart from conventional sexuality, as Alice Cooper or Kiss . Although the guidance of Dave Thompson rescue forgotten glam sound American groups from Milk 'N' Cookies up Hollywood Brats, most striking contribution was U.S. Jobriath, a Bowie impersonator who got an advance then astronomical-half million dollars in return for joining the Elektra label. It was a pitch full of whims: Jobriath's agent gave the interviews, rather than the singer: "He has so much talent that behaves like Greta Garbo." Very

film, although there is a crowd to make films about the glam, after the failure of Velvet Goldmine in 1998, a story written and directed by Todd Haynes, based on the legend of Ziggy Stardust, with biographical elements borrowed from Iggy Pop, Marc Bolan and Lou Reed. The character disappeared after a concert was magnificent and a journalist investigating the mystery.

The glam rock did not end so dramatically. Was the starting point for intelligent artists, but it was the end for minor talents. As a music for mass audiences, was reduced to formulas chicleteras as those used by the Rubettes or Bay City Rollers . His brave listeners spent making music with such popular bands as the Smiths. Their lead singer, Morrissey, evoked the hurricane: "As a kid I wanted to be anything but ordinary. Until the seventies, the pop charts containing music could like your parents and even your grandparents. People suddenly appeared as subversive as Marc Bolan. Now they can be accepted, but then considered that corrupted the morals of youth. I thought it was fantastic, I wanted to be corrupted. "Lady Gaga could understand.


Diego A. Manrique
The Country
April 17, 2011






http://www. youtube.com / watch? v = _h_uSbsUSSM




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Friday, April 15, 2011

Label The Parts Of The House.





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vNrBh8wHyA

"Cold" - Static-X


We kiss
the stars.
We writhe.
We are

your name
desire,
your flesh.
We are

cold, we're so cold.
We are
so cold, we're so cold.
[x2]

Your mouth,
these words,
silence.
It turns
humming.
We laugh.
My head
falls back.

Cold, we're so cold.
We are
so cold, we're so cold.
[x4]


Del soundtrack de la película "The Queen of the Damned" (2002)


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No tiene una deep lyrics and perhaps the pace is too repetitive. Nor is it a band that excites me : P But it's something I like, that moves me and that many fibers despite belonging to the soundtrack of a movie so bad, was used at a "summit", hahahaha, as one where Stuart Townsend playing Lestat reveals himself to a couple of groupies, climbing the walls and ceiling, literally xD



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Sunday, April 10, 2011

Tom Et Lola En Streaming

We kiss the stars "The new mafia no codes" Thief of Your Heart

Andrea Camilleri (ABC )


Andrea Camilleri (Porto Empedocle, Sicily, 1925) has eighty-five years and smokes like a chimney. During the time of our discussion, it aired about ten cigarettes. By smell that I took office, as a tailored suit, leaving his house Roman snuff should be black, very black, like the novels of his series on the Commissioner Montalbano, who has become famous in all world and deserving, at eighty-five, a fan club that if they wanted the teen idols, not to mention other writers of literary stem brainy up Camilleri himself when he gets serious and turns in the other author who in hand, a cult favorite among the culteranismo Italian or Sicilian. Seek website ( www.vigata.org ) Or typed his name on Twitter and start reading comments like this: "Yesterday, sniff, I read the last thing I had to Montalbano. I hope you do not hesitate to publish something new, and I feel it is like saying goodbye to an old friend. I enjoyed his books, which are certainly not the best of the genre, but the truth is that you engage your stories and characters "or" For committed, like me, Montalbano, March goes on sale the latest novel translated , the potter's field. I'm looking forward to Buy it ", or close to despair," A friend who works at a bookstore told me yesterday that there is no news of the last of Camilleri, he understood that coming out in June not I can / want to wait !!!». Do not expect more, it is already here. Camilleri and crime as Montalbano, his alter ego in police matters.

The police thriller or enjoying the congratulations of the public, living an eternal 'boom', but their protagonists are removed, to the chagrin of his thousands of followers. The Swede Henning Mankell has retired from disease at super famous Wallander. Does your Montalbano you will also bid farewell?

I do not think there is a desire to proclaim an end. There is rather a weariness of the character. Fatigue that he attributes to age, although it is not really consistent. Born in 1950, which today would be 61 years. If we were in the nineteenth century would be a very old man, but in our time remains an intelligent man, valid. Tired of your job, the stupidity of the crime, stupidity dominant.

"In the end, an inevitable tendency toward skepticism, the only and last refuge?

I've tried to make a character who does not remain unchanged over time, to mature over the years. But Montalbano have certain characteristics. For example, bad weather puts a bad mood. It's misogynistic (Note: Do not be a misanthrope?: /). No company likes others. If he collects all these elements and adds asocial having to deal daily with a material that essentially repugnant, homicide, it is clear that the only thing you can do is defend with some cynicism false pretense or irony. But then suffers, does not remain indifferent to the horror, the killing, lack of piety.

Speaking of classic European detective novels, is seems Montalbano other commissioners and inspectors say the example of Maigret?

Yes that is indebted to Maigret, Simenon . In Italy, a private detective would not have freedom of maneuver that has a police commissioner and that, I decided to write the first detective story, I immediately in a commissioner, not a detective. The commissioners of police in Italy are very ordinary people, good bourgeois, and then makes a comparison with Maigret, but we must try to differentiate. Maigret is married, and Montalbano, no. Maigret is eternal, everything happens around the Germans conquered France and then France is liberated. A Maigret does not care what happens in the world around you instead of my character cares about the world around him. In common with a taste for good food: a Maigret, brasserie or what prepares you Mrs. Maigret; say Montalbano's girlfriend did not even know how to cook. With respect to research method Simenon, nothing owed. The research method is to put Maigret from the dead, to study the environment, the method is much more rational Montalbano.

What Camilleri Montalbano's personality?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Is an imaginary character. Well, actually, is not imaginary, but of course, nothing is mine. After the fourth novel Montalbano wife said: "You realize that you're doing a long Montalbano portrait of your father?". I reflected and I finally agree with him, so all of mine who is in Montalbano is that I am not the father of Montalbano, if anything, I've given Montalbano traits of my father.

The mob is the source of the crimes that occur in his novels. But, like Montalbano has changed over the years, the Mafia of today is not the same as before, or at least that seems to make him understand. "Any time spent, even for the crime, was better?

the Mafia's past has never been good, but there is a difference between the old and the new mafia mafia. Indeed, Montalbano, when you have relations with the mafia, the mafia has to very old, their partners were the chiefs and elders, of course, no young heads Today's mafia. The former bosses had a code, as we may seem crazy, but that was respected by them. However, the Mafia is the Mafia came after the massacres, of Totò Riina, Bernardo Provenzano, Leoluca Pagliarella. A mob killings, it does not look to the face. The new mafia knows no rules and no codes. This is the fundamental difference. In both cases they are murderers, but to me an old mafioso said: "Every time we were forced to kill someone, we did it by necessity, and we considered a defeat, because we had not managed to persuade him otherwise '. The old Mafia was an enormous respect for lawmen were intact. I am inclined to think that almost real mafia, the former one, had not killed Falcone and Borsellino, or, if he did, the mob boss in person would have pulled the trigger, man to man, not committed to a killers.

Montalbano is a commissioner who uses books and reading to solve cases. An educated man. In the last title published in Spain, "The potter's field", uses one of his works, Camilleri itself, towards the end of the frame. Did you need to become a self-homage? Do not you just all that you want the public?

[ With irony :] From an author who is called Camilleri ... It is a self-homage, yes. As many readers write to me: "I had never read a book, but I began to read Montalbano and fascinated me. Now that I'm done with Montalbano, what books I read? ". Then I would write: "Read the books you read Montalbano, because reading gives good advice."

I think her novels, rather than police, are customs.

Exactly. It is an attempt to smuggle a picture of today's Italian society through crime novels. The importance of the detective novel is precisely the Mediterranean. The authors of today, Lucarelli and I in Italy, others in France or Spain, we intend to have the society of today catching the hook readers of the novel.

Camilleri Montalbano not only a long series of novels featuring him is also a writer of worship and cultic. How do you reconcile the two sides?, Are looking face to face or sideways?

be reconciled in me from the time I write one and the other. If given to readers if not reconciled, I recognize more in the works that are no Montalbano. For example, the language of a novel as Il re di Girgenti or other historical works, is more complicated, more difficult to deal with for someone who is not Sicilian. In I prefer detective novels greatly simplify my language.

In a conversation with the deceased Vazquez Montalban, whose name comes Montalbano, says: "Sometimes I feel like I've become a buzzword of idiots." Do you still think the same?

No, as if they were idiots, no. I do not get that far, but I like that one of my children, one of my novels so successful around the world, not only in Italy. Although sometimes they do not understand. For example, I have received eight contracts to publish Korean Montalbano there. However, forgive me: but do you see the Koreans? Then there is the fact that Montalbano fans are also his harshest critics. A reader has come to write: "You can not pay your political ideas Montalbano, because Montalbano and not yours. Montalbano now is ours. "

Ultimately, we deny the words and opinions. However, at present in Italian society, what role can the intellectuals and writers?

There is no standard, each one does what you think. I believe that the role of intellectual interest as well, and above all, by the society in which he lives, and historical moments in their lives intersect. I do not think that the role of intellectuals and writers are staying absent or distant. If anyone wants to stay in his room looking at his navel and offers us a masterpiece of literature, it does not matter. There is no obligation depends on the consciousness of everyone.

I suppose you are tired of being asked by Berlusconi, but as is the courtyard in Italy, I have no choice.

I'm not bored, because it is good that everyone knows who is Berlusconi. There is freedom to express it. The writers and intellectuals are not under a dictatorship, we are under a distortion of democracy. I can speak ill of Berlusconi without ending up in jail, which would not happen if instead of Berlusconi was Mussolini or Franco in Spain. So we are not at that level, we are in the most insidious corruption of democracy, and while we talk, talk. Then explain to me

surrealism in which is immersed Italy.

Berlusconi has been elected with a majority, helped by an electoral law that allowed hard to explain that if you had one more vote, I corresponded over 50 members. And this is a degeneration of democracy. Gradually, it has been revealed the true face of Berlusconi, but was revealed when the Italians were disillusioned him. For a couple of years, Italians have begun to understand that the Government has only made laws in their favor, to avoid dealing with trial courts. Now Italy has produced a strong reaction against it: there have been spontaneous demonstrations, with millions of people. But there is a real split between the House, ie members elected for two years and the country's current reality. The current situation does not reflect that of the deputies elected in the House. Parliament continues to function as if nothing had changed since two years ago, but much has changed. If elections were held today, Berlusconi would be at great risk of not being chosen. We have reached the absurd. The question I pose to the Italians is this: "To a man accused four times of being a pederast and awaiting trial, would offer the possibility of a new reform of the law on child abuse?

Spain is not to teach many lessons, but the image offered his country's sometimes a comedy slash style Dino Risi.

The Italian reality is difficult to understand, I understand perfectly that you can make a comedy, a tragicomedy that is only because the public debt rises to terrifying levels, and joblessness as well, three out of four young people are unemployed; the low-income families every day, two of every three families do not make ends meet. Berlusconi says it is the fault of the global crisis. Since then, the global crisis has influenced, but the total inaction of our government has done that today we are a country on the brink of an abyss, from the standpoint of employment, labor force, quality of production, exports, from the point of view of quality of life we \u200b\u200blose. This man continually promises hope and any future was stolen from the Italians. The problem is not Berlusconi, but how to recover Italy from the tsunami represented by Berlusconi when they discover the state it is in Italy, and how it can provide a standard when it has lost any sense of morality. Let

page. Still writing every day?

Yes, I am writing another book. I write every day. I get up at six o'clock and wonderful work for four hours before starting the calls. I am an employee of writing.


The potter's field, Andrea Camilleri, Salamandra 221 pages, 14 euros

Laura Revuelta
ABC
April 1, 2011





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