Nick Cave & Warren Ellis - "Carnival" (The Assassination of Jesse James by the coward Robert Ford)

Shutter Island (2010)

Impressive film. Not because of the story: that's ok, but not shockingly original

Mood grabs you at the throat.

Why do the colours change so suddenly? On purpose? Ode to the old master?

Leonardo DiCaprio plays a wonderful part.

Jan Blokker - VPRO Marathon Interview

Interviewer (Kris Krijne, Chris?) is niet heel sterk. Gaat vaker de fout in met kleine feitjes, laat Jan Blokker vooral het initiatief.

"Zoals op de middelbare school de liefde voor literatuur vrij snel de kop wordt ingedrukt door het moeten lezen van klassiekers, zo gebeurde dat op de universiteit ook. Als je er van houdt, blijf je er van af, zeg ik altijd maar."

Later doet interviewer het beter, laat beter merken dat hij de achtergrond van Blokker kent.

Blokker, filmliefhebber, vindt alle soorten films fantastisch. Ageerde tegen van Domburg, Bertina (?) en de hunnen die met veel dédain naar films keken.

"De Nederlander" is niet geïnteresseerd in nieuws. Het tast de status quo aan, en is daarom eng. We hebben een sterk ontwikkeld gevoel dat er over bepaalde zaken niet geschreven hoort te worden. Blokker begrijpt dat, maar gaat er wel tegenin, bewust wat overdreven ("scheur de vuilniszakken over") maar houdt maat: kijk wat de nieuwswaarde is.

Wat een prachtige stem is dat toch, die de introteksten verzorgt. "Dé stem van de VPRO", werd mij gezegd. *google* Cor Galis.

Cat Power - "Hate"

lonely voice, a wandering guitar

half of it is innocent
the other half is wise
the whole damn thing makes no sense
I wish I could tell you a lie
hey, come here
let me whisper in your ear

Janis Ian - "In the winter"

slow, sad, melancholy

if I get lonely
the sound of other voices
other rooms are near to me, I'm not afraid

[...]

There's always radio
And for a dime I can talk to God

Dail-a-prayer
Are you there?
Do you care?
Are you there?

The Nits - "Adieu, Sweet Bahnhof"

By the changes in my life I pretend
There's a new life waiting there for me
I asked myself what sort of books I'd read
In a train if I ever felt the need
I bought "My life with Picasso"
I think of so many things I like to do
I will go to the Centre Pompidou
There's a still-life part of my life too

Adieu, adieu sweet bahnhof
My train of thoughts is leaving
Tonight

Simon & Garfunkel - "Dangling Conversation"

It's a still life water color,
Of a now late afternoon,
As the sun shines through the curtained lace
And shadows wash the room.
And we sit and drink our coffee
Couched in our indifference,
Like shells upon the shore
You can hear the ocean roar
In the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
The borders of our lives.

And you read your Emily Dickinson,
And I my Robert Frost,
And we note our place with bookmarkers
That measure what we've lost.
Like a poem poorly written
We are verses out of rhythm,
Couplets out of rhyme,
In syncopated time
Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs,
Are the borders of our lives.

Yes, we speak of things that matter,
With words that must be said,
"Can analysis be worthwhile?"
"Is the theater really dead?"
And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow,
I cannot feel your hand,
You're a stranger now unto me
Lost in the dangling conversation.
And the superficial sighs,
In the borders of our lives.

[via Lizzie : http://freshlysqueezedstories.blogspot.com/2010/01/road-not-taken.html ]

Amanda Palmer - "Vegemite (Black Death)"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJhDV0MMPAs

I cannot hold a man so close that spreads this cancer on his toast
It is the vegemite, my darling, or it's me

Ikigami (2008)

A society injects its children in the age of 6 to 8 years old with a nano-device that in one out of a 1000, explodes when they are between 18 and 24 years old. The selecting process is totally random and its purpose is to force the population to realise the importance and value of life itself. The unfortunate people who will die, are notified 24 hours in advance, during which all their expenses are paid by the government and they can have a wonderful final day with their family and beloved.

The protagonist starts working at the agency that serves people their death notice, and during the course of the film, various situations arise: a simple revenge for humiliation during childhood, a brother, bit of a slum but with a heart of gold, who wants his blind sister to get the cornea of his eyes but has to pull a difficult trick to make sure she doesn't know he will die. A politician, once actively against the procedure but with her "wrong thoughts corrected", actively arguing it is a wonderful way to really enjoy life, until her own son dies. A recently discovered star, singing on television during the last minutes of his life...

The "thought correction" reminds of Orwell's 1984, forcefully changing someone's psyche, though the question remains whether no traces are left...

A wonderful film with gripping moments, for example the scene where the brother, in a happy voice but with tears streaming down his face, tells his sister everything's gonna be well after her surgery. Good score too, though it is nothing fancy or special, it perfectly "suits" the film.

The whole film tends to "feel" very Japanese. This sounds silly, it being a Japanese film and all that, but it really feels like it is made by Japanese for Japanese people. Visually, with many angles and shots that reminded me of anime, story-wise, its pace, its style.

By the way, it was originally a (6-episode?) comic and manga.

Desmona

Belgian band, Desmoda, Desmona.Jacques Brel, Tom Waits, Nina Simone

update, much much later: I think I like it.

Maarten van Roozendaal - "Red mij niet"

Leg een steen onder je kussen
Brand voor mijn part een kaars
Slacht een lam
Maar red mij niet

Zet een rare muts op
Duw briefjes in een muur
Voorspel de toekomst
Maar red mij niet

Laat je baard staan
Ach man, laat je baard staan
Red mij niet

Mervyn Peake - Gormenghast Trilogy

Three fantastic books, but the third volume can't compete with the first two. Whether that is due to the fact that it was finished (by using an once-edited transcript sent to the publisher with the author's notes) post mortem or whether its style and story simply does not appeal to me as much as the castle of Gormenghast does, I do not know.

Its style is definitely different from the other two books. Lavish descriptions and comparisons still bloom throughout the story, but they seem less natural, more like a trick. Perhaps that is my fault of reading all three in a row though.

But in general, I loved the story, the characters, the strange atmosphere, the 

"The Doctor (for it was Prunesquallor) showed about as much sign of having a pair of hips as an eel set upon its end, while Irma, in white silk, had gone out of her way, it appeared, to exhibit to their worst advantage (her waist being ridiculously tight) a pair of hips capable of balancing upon their osseous shelves enough bric-a-brac to clutter up a kleptomaniac's cupboard."

"It was as if those faraway days when they were lovers came flooding back, image upon image, shade upon shade, unsolicited, unbidden, each one challenging the strength of the dykes which they had built against one another. For they knew that beyond the dykes heaved the great seas of sentiment on whose bosom they had lost their way."

"He does not listen for an answer, but yawns, his face opening lewly upon regions compared with which nudity becomes a milliner's invention."

The Frivolous Cake

A freckled and frivolous cake there was
That sailed upon a pointless sea,
Or any lugubrious lake there was
In a manner emphatic and free.
How jointlessly, and how jointlessly
The frivolous cake sailed by
On the waves of the ocean that pointlessly
Threw fish to the lilac sky.

Oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
Of a glory beyond compare,
And every conceivable make there was
Was tossed through the lilac air.

Up the smooth billows and over the crests
Of the cumbersome combers flew
The frivolous cake with a knife in the wake
Of herself and her curranty crew.
Like a swordfish grim it would bounce and skim
(This dinner knife fierce and blue])),
And the frivolous cake was filled to the brim
With the fun of her curranty crew.

Oh, plenty and plenty of hake there was
Of a glory beyond compare -
And every conceivable make there was
Was tossed through the lilac air.

Around the shores of the Elegant Isles
Where the cat-fish bask and purr
And lick their paws with adhesive smiles
And wriggle their fins of fur,
They fly and fly 'neath the lilac sky -
The frivolous cake, and the knife
Who winketh his glamorous indigo eye
In the wake of his future wife.

The crumbs blow free down the pointless sea
To the beat of a cakey heard
And the sensitive steel of the knife can feel
That love is a race apart
In the speed of the lingering light are blown
The crumbs to the hake above,
And the tropical air vibrates to the drone
Of a cake in the throes of love.

David Bowie - "Hours" (album)

probably enjoyable.

hell I can't remember. But it's Bowie

Zombieland (2009)

Yes, well, uhm, did I like it?

It's too long ago. Guess it was ok (... or was it)

Damien Rice & Lisa Hannigan - "9 Crimes"

Leave me out with the waste
This is not what I do
It's the wrong kind of place
To be cheating on you
It's the wrong time
She's pulling me through
It's a small crime
And I've got no excuse

Is that alright?
I give my gun away when it's loaded

Dodgem Logic - "volume 1"

completely crazy, anarchistic, "green", anti-alot. Definitely an interesting read, and even though I do not feel the need to go guerilla-gardening myself, the articles and ideas make you wonder.

Ida Gerhardt - "De Gestorvene"

Zeven maal om de aarde te gaan
als het zou moeten op handen en voeten;
zeven maal, om die éne te groeten
die daar lachend te wachten zou staan,
Zeven maal om de aarde te gaan.

Zeven maal over de zeeën te gaan,
schraal in de kleren, wat zou het mij deren,
kon uit de dood ik die éne doen keren,
Zeven maal over de zeeën te gaan -
zeven maal, om met zijn tweeën te staan

Arjen

Lieve Arjen,

Rust in vrede. Ik zoek door mijn boeken naar troostende woorden. Gedichten dan? Maar wie? Frost? Rawie? Reve? American Outlaw Poets.

Ze zijn allen even leeg en even zinnig.

lieve Arjen, godverdomde goede vriend, je vertrek doet me pijn.

Hans

BBC Orchestra - "Blink (suite)"

Remco Campert - "Poëzie"

Van mooie poëzie heb ik nooit zo erg gehouden
tenzij je niet merkte dat ze mooi was
zoals snel het licht
dat schampt langs een spoorrail
of de sneeuwvlok die smelt op de straatsteen
maar verder
heb ik van mooie poëzie nooit zo erg gehouden
tenzij ze heel mooi was
zoals toen je op de tramhalte stond
en ik je zag in het voorbijgaan