Every love story is a ghost story

"Every love story is a ghost story"

(David Foster Wallace)

Harlequin and his Companion (Les deux saltimbanques) - 1901

New Sensations (live at Farm Aid 1985)

...They was arguing about football as I waved and went outside
and I headed for those mountains feeling all warm inside
I love that Harley Davidson so much, you know that I could kiss her...

I don’t like guilt be it stoned or stupid drunk and disorderly I ain’t no cupid
Two years ago today I was arrested on Christmas Eve
I don’t want pain, I want to walk not be carried
I don’t want to give it up, I want to stay married
I ain’t no dog tied to a parked car
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, new sensations
Talkin’ ‘bout some new sensations
Talkin’ ‘bout some new sensations
I want the principles of a timeless muse
I want to eradicate my negative views
And get rid of those people who are always on a down
It’s easy enough to say what is wrong
but that’s not what I want to hear all night long
Some people they are just like human Tuinals
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations
Talkin’ ‘bout some new sensations
Talkin’ a new sensations
I took my Harley Sportster out for a ride
the engine felt good between my thighs
The air was cool, it was forty degrees outside
I rode to Pennsylvania by the Delaware Gap
sometimes I got lost and had to check the map
I stopped at a roadside diner for a burger and a coke
There were some country folk and some locals inside
somebody got themselves married and somebody died
I went to the juke box and I played myself a hillbilly song
They was arguing about football as I waved and went outside
and I headed for those mountains feeling all warm inside
I love that Harley Davidson so much, you know that I could kiss her
Ooohhh, new sensations
Ooohhh, ooohhh, new sensations

la faziosità è ovunque!

fazióso agg. e s. m. (f. -a) [dal lat. factiosus, der. di factio -onis «fazione»]. – Seguace di una fazione politica, o, più spesso, amante delle fazioni, della divisione di un popolo (o di qualsiasi altra compagine) in fazioni: uomo prepotente e f.; gente f.; per estens.: intrighi, discorsi f.; atteggiamento f., ecc. Con sign. più generico, nell’uso moderno, di persona che subordina tutto alla propria ideologia assumendo consapevolmente atteggiamenti privi di obiettività e quindi settarî: dirigenti politici f.; è un gregge di pecore che si lascia guidare ciecamente da quattro faziosi. ◆ Avv. faziosaménte, con faziosità: tenere faziosamente il potere. 
(treccani.it)

 

June 20, 1980

It’s 106 miles to Chicago, we’ve got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark and we’re wearing sunglasses.Hit it!

Animali.

Ogni vita è sacra, la morte di un uomo che ha scelto di essere un torero è sicuramente e senza ombra di dubbio, una tragedia. La vittima merita rispetto.

Sono personalmente contrario alla corrida così come sono contrario a qualsiasi tortura/trattamento inferti agli animali non umani per creare spettacolo o celebrare fantomatiche, millenarie tradizioni.

Ho la mia etica personale, la tengo per me, chi mi conosce sa. Non sopporto nè i nazivegani nè gli anti-nazivegani. Posizioni estreme e sbagliate per questioni molto complesse. 

Voglio scrivere su questo muro una sola cosa: ho il voltastomaco leggendo le affermazioni di chi giustifica l'uccisione dei tori durante questi macabri spettacoli, adducendo il fatto che quotidianamente vengono comunque abbattuti milioni di capi di bestiame. Mi stavo per lanciare in una lunga spiegazione ma ho cancellato tutto, non credo sia necessaria! 

Ci sarebbe solo bisogno di riflettere.

Spesso dietro una persona che all'apparenza splende, si cela l'ombra di un miserabile!

(non mi riferisco al torero)

The Big Sleep - Il Grande Sonno

dodo - good things come in small packages

Heart Of A Dog - Laurie Anderson

Turning Time Around (Riavere Indietro Il Tempo) - Lou Reed

She says 'What do you call love?'
well I call it Harry
Oh, please I’m being serious what do you call love
Well I don’t call it family, and I don’t call it lust
and as we all know marriage isn’t a must
And I suppose in the end it’s a matter of trust
if I had to I’d call love time
She says, What do you call love? Can’t you be more specific
What do you call love? Is it more than the heart’s hieroglyphic
Well for me time has no meaning
no future, no past
and when you’re in love you don’t have to ask
There’s never enough time to hold love in your grasp
turning time around
Turning time around – that is what love is
Turning time around – yes, that is what love is
My time is your time when you’re in love
and time is what you never have enough of
You can’t see or hold it it’s exactly like love
Turning time around
turning time around
Turning time around
turning time around
Turning time around
well I gotta have it
I gotta-gotta-gotta have it
Turning, turning time around
gotta have it, turning time around
Turning, turning time around
turning time around

Brixia

Being but men - Dylan Thomas

Being but men, we walked into the trees
Afraid, letting our syllables be soft
For fear of waking the rooks,
For fear of coming
Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries.

If we were children we might climb,
Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig,
And, after the soft ascent,
Thrust out our heads above the branches
To wonder at the unfailing stars.

Out of confusion, as the way is,
And the wonder, that man knows,
Out of the chaos would come bliss.

That, then, is loveliness, we said,
Children in wonder watching the stars,
Is the aim and the end.

Being but men, we walked into the trees.