Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

And so let’s take a last look-around, and say Farewell to all
Events that gave the last decade, which this New Year
Brings to its close, a special pathos. Let us fill
One final fiery glass and quickly drink to the ‘Pre-War’
Before we greet ‘the Forties’, whose unseen sphinx-face
Is staring fixedly upon us from behind its veil;
Drink farewell quickly, ere the Future smash the glass.

David Gascoyne, «Farewell Chorus»
Ano Novo de 1940

Jazzanova + Ben Westbeech = Perfect Match

E haverá melhor forma de acabar musicalmente 2008?

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Oratio for the Day After

Well, so that is that. Now we must dismantle the tree,
Putting the decorations back into their cardboard boxes -
Some have got broken - and carrying them up to the attic.
The holly and the mistletoe must be taken down and burnt,
And the children got ready for school. There are enough
Left-overs to do, warmed-up, for the rest of the week -
Not that we have much appetite, having drunk such a lot,
Stayed up so late, attempted - quite unsuccessfully -
To love all of our relatives, and in general
Grossly overestimated our powers. Once again
As in previous years we have seen the actual Vision and failed
To do more than entertain it as an agreeable
Possibility, once again we have sent Him away,
Begging though to remain His disobedient servant,
The promising child who cannot keep His word for long.
The Christmas Feast is already a fading memory,
And already the mind begins to be vaguely aware
Of an unpleasant whiff of apprehension at the thought
Of Lent and Good Friday which cannot, after all, now
Be very far off. But, for the time being, here we all are,
Back in the moderate Aristotelian city
Of darning and the Eight-Fifteen, where Euclid's geometry
And Newton's mechanics would account for our experience,
And the kitchen table exists because I scrub it.
It seems to have shrunk during the holidays. The streets
Are much narrower than we remembered; we had forgotten
The office was as depressing as this. To those who have seen
The Child, however dimly, however incredulously,
The Time Being is, in a sense, the most trying time of all.
For the innocent children who whispered so excitedly
Outside the locked door where they knew the presents to be
Grew up when it opened. Now, recollecting that moment
We can repress the joy, but the guilt remains conscious;
Remembering the stable where for once in our lives
Everything became a You and nothing was an It.
And craving the sensation but ignoring the cause,
We look round for something, no matter what, to inhibit
Our self-reflection, and the obvious thing for that purpose
Would be some great suffering. So, once we have met the Son,
We are tempted ever after to pray to the Father;
"Lead us into temptation and evil for our sake."
They will come, all right, don't worry; probably in a form
That we do not expect, and certainly with a force
More dreadful than we can imagine. In the meantime
There are bills to be paid, machines to keep in repair,
Irregular verbs to learn, the Time Being to redeem
From insignificance. The happy morning is over,
The night of agony still to come; the time is noon:
When the Spirit must practice his scales of rejoicing
Without even a hostile audience, and the Soul endure
A silence that is neither for nor against her faith
That God's Will will be done, That, in spite of her prayers,
God will cheat no one, not even the world of its triumph.

«Christmas Oratio» by W. H. Auden
(who else could it be?)

This Year, Non-Stop Playing @ Christmas

Darlene Love - All Alone on Christmas
Found at

Darlene Love

Disco da Semana

Parties Fines:
A voluptuous journey through 70s French Erotic Cinema

Selected by Monsieur Clouseau & Lord Library

Friday, December 19, 2008

Caos Calmo, Música Improvável

Caos Calmo, dir. Antonello Grimaldi

Rufus Wainwright - Cigarettes And Chocolate Milk (Reprise)
Found at

Friday, December 12, 2008

Le Weekend



Thursday, December 11, 2008

Manoel de Oliveira, Sem Anos

Douro, Faina Fluvial (1931; 1934)

«O que dele vi, porém, seria suficientíssimo para um largo estudo, — tanto o Douro é uma audácia e uma surpresa no escasso cinema português. Secundado pela admirável fotografia de António Mendes, Manuel de Oliveira conseguiu qualquer coisa de absolutamente novo em Portugal: O seu documentário é, sim, um documentário: Da ponte à foz, toda a vida do Douro aí se documenta. Mas além disso, é uma poderosa visão de poeta. […] Isso que pretenderam alguns pintores futuristas — colocar o espectador no próprio centro do quadro — consegue-o Manuel de Oliveira com o seu filme. Indefeso e surpreso, o espectador é arrastado pelo ritmo vertiginoso daqueles quadros e semiquadros que continuamente se completam e desenvolvem...».

José Régio, presença, 33, Julho-Outubro de 1931

«Assim o Douro é que é, até hoje, o nosso melhor filme, e um óptimo documentário em qualquer lugar ou tempo. E porquê? Por uma simples e poderosa razão: Porque o seu realizador é um artista que se exprime através do cinema. […] Com um mínimo de condições favoráveis, Manuel de Oliveira realizou o que outros não realizam com um máximo. A moderna poesia do ferro e do aço […]. Manuel de Oliveira é artista e poeta, no alto sentido em que, afinal, estas duas palavras são sinónimas. […]
E eis, entre nós, a grande novidade do Douro: Ser uma obra de arte».

José Régio, presença, 43, Dezembro de 1934

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

Fairy Tale

Debaixo do colchão tenho guardado

o coração mais limpo desta terra

como um peixe lavado pela água

da chuva que me alaga interiormente

Acordo cada dia com um corpo

que não aquele com que me deitei

e nunca sei ao certo se sou hoje

o projecto ou memória do que fui

Abraço os braços fortes mas exactos

que à noite me levaram onde estou

e, bebendo café, leio nas folhas

das árvores do parque o tempo que fará

Depois irei ali além das pontes

vender, comprar, trocar, a vida toda acesa;

mas com cuidado, para não ferir

as minhas mãos astutas de princesa.

António Franco Alexandre