los gases son comprensibles: cine en series

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It may be the coldest day of the year

Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.

Frank O'Hara

Y sí, me he lanzado a la odisea de Mad men.

Que las sirenas y sus cantos me acompañen:

entre el desprecio y la oración

Aquí hay una buena crítica. Devota, eso sí. Yo también pertenezco a esa cofradía.

deprecación

Del lat. deprecatio, -ōnis.

1. f. Ruego, súplica, petición.

Sin.:

imprecación, ruego, súplica, petición.

2. f. Ret. Ruego o súplica ferviente que se dirige a alguien.

Sin embargo:

deprecation n desprecio, menosprecio

beef

It’s a rare delicacy.

Pues sí, sí lo es. Aquí está la chavala del Guardian que lo explica bien. Fascinante lo de Corea -del Sur-. Esos días, hace ya unos meses, cuando la vi, leí bastante sobre ella, su gestación, sus implicados. Y todo encajaba para que se pariera esta inusual exquisitez. Con A24 detrás...

la narrativa manda

Olivia is a screw-up, she always will be, that’s the narrative that suits Bernie the best. It lets him focus on making bad movies and his idiot son.

non cuique datum est habere nasum

Como mínimo, un superlativo placer estético en blanco y negro, del Boweri de los 60 a aquella Italia. Brutal.

Y no, a no todo el mundo le es dado tener nariz. Parece el motto de la serie.

trying hard against

Con veinte años, quizás alguno más, compusieron esto. No sé, no lo entiendo. Las fotos de Alex que encuentro me trasmiten que está en otro lugar, lejos, tormentoso, difícil. Chris también está lejos, mucho, pero me parece menos complicado su lugar; paradójicamente fue el primer en abandonar nuestro planeta cuando yo tenía diez años. De los cuatro del grupo solo uno ha llegado a una edad respetable: tampoco me extraña.

Respecto a la letra, foros hay para investigar de qué habla. A mí, de manera intuitiva, no me ofrece mucha duda.

El tema aparece en Sex education.

Muy apropiado para un día como hoy.

I do. I do understand

Todo, absolutamente todo es inusitadamente brillante en esta comedia por momentos desgarradora:

Liam : I'm gonna jump!
Otis Milburn : Stop, Liam, don't. Don't do this.
Liam : Oh. Hi Otis.
Otis Milburn : You don't wanna jump.
Liam : No. I think I do.
Otis Milburn : You don't. Look... sometimes, the people we like don't like us back, and it's painful, but there's nothing we can do about it.
Liam : You don't understand.
Otis Milburn : I do. I do understand. I know what it's like when someone doesn't feel the same way about you. It's... someone you can't stop thinking about. It hurts. But you can't make people like you.
Liam : I don't like her - I love her!

I'm so tired of being aloneI'm so tired of on-my-ownWon't you help me girlJust as soon as you can

People say that I've found a wayTo make you say that you love meHey baby, you didn't go for thatIt's a natural factThat I wanna come backShow me where it's at, baby

I'm so tired of being aloneI'm so tired of on-my-ownWon't you help me girlSoon as you can

I guess you know that I, uh, I love you soEven though you don't want me no moreHey, hey, hey, hey, I'm cryin' tearsAll through the yearsI'll tell ya like it isHoney, please love me if you will

Yeah babyTired of being alone here by myself, nowI tell ya, I'm tired babyI'm tired of being all wrapped up late at nightIn my dreams, nobody but you, baby

Sometimes I wonderIf you love me like you say you doYou see baby, I, I, I been thinkin' about it, yeahI been, I been wantin' to get next to you babyYou see, sometimes I fold my arms, I say, mmh-hmm-mmhOh yeahOh babyMeeting you has proven to meTo be my greatest dream, yeah

I'm so tired of being alone (Tired, baby)So tired of being alone (Yeah, you don't know what I'm talkin' about)So tired of being aloneSometimes late at night I get to wonderin' about you babyI'm so tired of being alone (Oh baby, baby)So tired of being aloneSo tired of being alone

I'm so tired of being alone (Oh baby)So tired of being alone (You're my heart's desire)So tired of being alone

lecciones de química

De estos polvos se generaban aquellos lodos. Investigaré más y producirá más entradas, seguro.

early pregnancy diagnosis

Si alguien tiene interés, aquí hay un buen artículo. Esta entrada enlazará con otra más adelante, pero eso está por venir.

stay open

Stay open. Stay open. If your defenses come up, you’re fucked. But two vulnerable people will always find a way to connect.

postmen like doctors

AUBADE

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain-edges will grow light.
Till then I see what’s really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.
The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
— The good not done, the love not given, time
Torn off unused — nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never;
But at the total emptiness for ever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.
This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says No rational being
Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear — no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.
And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace-fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.
Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can’t escape,
Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

Philip Larkin

Aquí hay un buen artículo al respecto con una dignísima adaptación a nuestra lengua. Otras que he hallado no me convencen.

Y aquí, el bueno de Oliver Tearle nos ofrece una inusual combinación de conocimiento, ausencia de presunción y capacidad expositiva. Valga como muestra este botón:

‘Aubade’ is a depressing poem, although – as Stephen Fry has said in conversation with Jonathan Bate – it remains a popular poem because it reminds us that out of dark and depressing thoughts, great art can come. There is something consolatory about it, for all its bleakness. Christopher Ricks is fond of quoting Frank Kermode on the limitations of some art which is ‘too consolatory to console’, the implication being that we sometimes like our art to face uncomfortable truths and to transmute horrifying realities into great poetry. ‘Aubade’ is one such example. We may not feel consoled by the message – we’re not meant to – but we can take heart from the fact that, out of such melancholy meditation (and it was very real to Larkin, as was the getting half-drunk at night as a way of coping with it) can come a great poem like ‘Aubade’.

La de Jaime, leída aquí abajo, ya la abordé hace más de siete años aquí.

Y el origen de que yo supiera de esta Aubade es esta marcianada que terminé hace unos días:

Kim

Durísima, seca, fría, húmeda, Báltica. Por desgracia, cuando la noticia saltó, en 2017, lo vi venir.

Aquí está Kim, con nosotros.

cena de viernes de enero

Esta noche ceno con ellas dos y él. No se me ocurre mejor plan.

(A la primera hay que verla en Youtube, pinchando en el enlace de abajo).

no one can dress cooler than you, Stan

Fino, descarnado y sin ofrecerte un asidero. Por momentos insoportable. Pero no todo el mundo opina lo mismo.

Las diferencias con la serie son palpables. En este caso no había cojones a llevar el papel a la pantalla tal cual. Pero algo se gana: el impagable Stanley, del cual estoy enamorado (el actor está destinado a la excelencia por imperativo asquenazí, entre otros).

Cómo me gustaría viajar y conocer el líquido amniótico que gesta y alimenta a este tipo de individuos.

Por cierto, el jersey de ella en la escena absolutamente delicioisa de la giant ass jellyfish lo tuve durante años, por mor de Dustin H. en Tootsie y servidor con 14 años en un Madrid canicular: mitos, estéticas y esas cosas.

best theater in town

De la misma pasta. Pasta excelsa:

- Hey. Do you wanna go to the football game?

- Absolutely not.

- Surprised you even come to this stuff. It's so lame.

- It's the opposite of lame, Syd. It's theater. It's live theater.

Westinghouse Memorial High School on a Friday night.

Bring it in! What could be more tragic?

More Shakespearean?

Think about it.

The moment the lights come up on Hamlet, you know it's not gonna end well.

Take, uh... Mr. Bradley Lewis.

His best case scenario is, what, managing some regional insurance sales company?

Where he gets to, I don't know, call the shots on Employee of the Month?

I mean, these are the people that will actually attend the five, ten, 20-year reunion, because, aside from this, nothing else all that noteworthy is gonna happen.

This is as good as it gets for them.

And I like watching 'em, like Hamlet, when everything goes to shit in the end... and everyone dies.

It's the best theater in town.

if it don't

Kiss me each morning for a million years
Hold me each evening by your side
Tell me you love me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye
Sweeten my coffee with a morning kiss
Soften my dreams with your sigh
After you've loved me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye
If you must go I won't grieve
If you just wait a life-time before you leave
If you must go I won't say "no"
Just so we can say that we tried
Tell me you love me for a million years
Then if it don't work out
Then if it don't work out
Then you can tell me goodbye

casual

Me encanta leer estas críticas: me enseñan, me abren lo ojos y me hacen sentir un ignorante. En cualquier caso, yo me lo he pasado bomba viéndola, apludiendo, llorando, buscando mil veces las referencias culturales que utiliza. Y empatizando con todas las miserias y virtudes que muestran los personajes, que creo que es uno de los objetivos de la serie.

Yo diría que es claramente heredera de Six feet under, pero hay quien opina que es algo más que herencia. Aquí y aquí.

los gases son comprensibles