The Plastic Wonderland

That’s the way it is and nothing tells us it will change soon. World is a pit of shit mixed with good smelling flowers. The song here below it’s a pit of contradictions which worked very fine. It seems it was born without any rational intention and after its birth it was touched and retouched here and there according to convenience. Convenience in this world always has a lot do to with power. Power with money…

We could be here talking about women and their strong need of being always at the up most level in beauty contests. Women, in general, are beautiful. This is a very much relative opinion but it is the one I always had and always will. But the song here was not born thinking about mammary implants. We could also be here talking about fashion and the idea of a perfect human body. It could be and it would match the dominant way of being in the western societies. But the world is not only made of western societies. And it seems that this song was not born thinking about deep social concerns at all. Neither love…

I do believe in the power of plastic. I do believe so much in it that I already classify human beings in three types:

  1. the ones made of flesh and bones
  2. the ones made of plastic
  3. the ones in transition to become made of plastic

I guess we could say that “The Power Of Love” has given place to “The Power Of Plastic”. I do not intend to perform a philosophical discussion over this topic. Why not? Because I simply don’t give a damn for it. Plastic women and plastic men do have the right to live and be powerful. Plastically! Let it be, let it be. Meanwhile, we, the ones made of flesh and bones, enjoy such good melodies like the one here below while we try to keep our flesh protected from virus and our bones protected from cracking.

May the gods help the ones in transition to a plastic new life…

In English

Her green plastic watering can
For her fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth
That she bought from a rubber man
In a town full of rubber plans
To get rid of itself

It wears her out, it wears her out
It wears her out, it wears her out

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns
He used to do surgery
For girls in the eighties
But gravity always wins

It wears him out, it wears him out
It wears him out, it wears him out

She looks like the real thing
She tastes like the real thing
My fake plastic love
But I can’t help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run

It wears me out, it wears me out
It wears me out, it wears me out

If I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted all the time

All the time…
All the time…

Em Português

O seu regador de plástico verde
Para a sua planta artifical de borracha chinesa
Em terra artificial de plástico
Que ela comprou de um homem de borracha
Numa cidade cheia de planos de borracha
Para se livrar de si mesma

Isso a desgasta, isso a desgasta
Isso a desgasta, isso a desgasta

Ela vive com um homem falido
Um homem de poliestireno rachado
Que só se esfarela e se queima
Ele costumava fazer cirurgia
Para as meninas nos anos oitenta
Mas a gravidade sempre vence

Isso o desgasta, isso o desgasta
Isso o desgasta, isso o desgasta

Ela aparenta ser verdadeira
Ela sabe a coisa verdadeira
Meu amor artifical de plástico
Mas eu não posso evitar a sensação
Eu poderia explodir através do teto
Se eu simplesmente me virar e correr

Isso me desgasta, isso me desgasta
Isso me desgasta, isso me desgasta

Se eu pudesse ser quem tu querias
Se eu pudesse ser sempre quem tu querias

A todo o momento …
A todo o momento …

by Radiohead
Fake Plastic Trees, in The Bends, © 1995
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.

I Am

I woke up this morning with the huge feeling that millions of people in the world would like me to write an “About me” about me. Because I don’t feel particularly imaginative today, I stole next paragraphs from my Facebook profile.

I was born a while after my parents decided to make it happen and since then I am surviving… I no longer see time ahead enough to become one of the powerful man in the world but that won’t make me get dimmed off! After all these years, as I have not been able to find my soul, I am now pretty sure I won’t live forever…

I believe in God. Exactly in the the same way I believe in Superman, Batman, Wonderwoman, Spiderman and many other comics enjoying the pleasures of fame. May the gods be with all those many still trying to prove that God doesn’t exist or it does but it’s an evil thing!

I have for myself the belief that my favorite famous quotes are:

  • You see things and you say “Why?” but I dream things that never were and I say “Why not?” (Bernard Shaw, Irish writer)
  • I am not young enough to know everything. (Oscar Wilde, Irish writer)

Sometimes I love to classify myself as a classy piece of shit. Other, I love to see myself as an unique thing. Sometimes I love to give others the answer “clear as mud”. Other, I don’t quit without understanding, which makes me fire the question “why?” a lot of times in the same conversation. Sometimes I make no difference between ‘love’ and ‘friendship’. Other, I rather run for ‘friendship’ and give no special value to ‘love’. Sometimes I value the little nothings of life. Other, I pretend to be a man of elaborated thoughts.

I dedicate this post to my latest source of happy feelings, Ms. M ‘The Celtic Woman’. Likewise, I also dedicate this post to my sixteen years old son who loves music from Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Radiohead, Coldplay, Muse and, much surprising, Sigur Rós. May he too, be able to find his source of happy feelings. Wherever. Whenever!

by Sigur Ros
Glósóli[1], in Takk, © 2005
  1. Icelandic word for ‘Glowing Sole’, according to author’s translation. You may see translations made by Sigur Rós for their songs here. Unfortunately, I am not able to translate this to Portuguese.

Panic

You know you ain’t going nowhere
You’re stuck inside while the mind is flying
You said you’d help me in the morning
Twisting on pins into my eyes
And dragging on the ceiling below you
Fixing up the walls with your crooked hands
While you’re miles away, miles away, miles away

I didn’t think it’ll all end up like this
There’s spiders on the wall and they stink of piss
Dead heads lying in the corner
Staring at me making me feel bad
I put my hands up to my eyes
But the holes in my palms let me find a way
To corner you

I can feel my chest crushing inwards
Sucking through my skin into my BRAIN
Oxygen pushing on the window cracks in the glass let
It slip away
I start to cry and I keep on laughing
I close my eyes at what’s left inside
And then I’ll ran away

For all the time this land
For all the time in my hand
Slip around in depth found
Calmness fall once again

Razor blades floating in the warm bath
Air bubbles in your veins turning my hands black
Whispers coming from the next room
Window cleaner keep on SPYING
I put my hands up to my eyes
But the HOLES in my PALMS let me find
A way to corner me

Twelve tonnes hammer for My breakfast
Slipping of the edge in catatonic blood
Multiple decibel inscriptions trying all they
Can in miles an hour… face
Grey and looming downwards
Sniffing all the time for a ounce of silence
Screaming all the way

Numbers counting down inside me
Solar system thoughts circle round my head
False teeth hanging from the ceiling
Feet looking of the goms of the 2nd son
I eat my hands cos my legs are crying
You Broke my neck cause I Snapped my spine
I wish you would Die away

To all the time in this land
And all the time in my hands
Circle Round in depth found
Calmness Fall once again

  1. After a long walk on the Muse world, I am now doing it on Anathema’s. There are days…

Emotional Barrenness

Long time no see! The difference between ‘sentiment’ and ’emotion’ or the ‘sentimental state’ and the ’emotional state’ is very much tenuous. I had some (much) time ago the desire of writing here something about these two states but, for a couple of recent reasons, I have postponed it. I am not very much pro one or the other but in compensation I am very much curious about both.

There was I chatting with somebody about the little nothings of life until that somebody came up with the expression in Portuguese: “estou presentemente em fase de total aridez emocional“. I liked it, mainly the concept of “aridez emocional”[1]. Then I thought “I gotta write something in my blog about this”. My first step? Translate it. I thought quite a lot about the translation because, like I already said here in older posts, my English sucks. But I am a persistent boy and there it is: “I am currently going through a phase of total emotional barrenness“. The keyword here is ‘barrenness’. Then we can jump from emotional to sentimental and backwards according to the moment…

I would say that ’emotional’ is something very physical. Fear, anger, sadness, shame, jealousy, are emotions. Our body is very much sensitive to many external incitements which, depending very much on our inborn chemistry, electricity and magnetism, can cause different reactions on different people. This is obvious! Am I the emotional type guy? This can be a question raised by many people but much more often totally ignored by the majority. Very often we are highly emotional but we really don’t give a damn for how much and when. I, for instance, love football but when my favorite team scores, I never jump out my seat as I had springs under my feet, don’t break a couple of chairs and drink two liters of beer to celebrate the goal. The further I usually go when my team scores is a relatively shy lion shout using the word ‘goal’ which some times causes no more than a temporary hoarse state. Being emotional is pretty good. Being too much emotional is pretty bad. Crossing a phase of emotional barrenness when emotions are related to love? Well, maybe it should make us think about it…

I would say that ‘sentimental’ is something very mental. Love, hate, respect, are sentiments. I would say that first come the emotions. Then our brain processes them and generates the respective sentiment. Finally, that sentiment generates consequent emotions. Easily said, the emotion ‘love’ can generate the sentiment ‘love’ which, on its own, will reinforce the emotion ‘love’. Silly? Too complicated? If it is, you just take ‘sentiment’ and ’emotion’ as synonyms and that’s it. Life will run light and easy! If not, then you may have your own definition or follow mine. Following mine, I would also rather say that crossing a phase of sentimental barrenness, when sentiments are related to relationships with other human beings, should make us think.

What the hell am I talking about emotions and sentiments for? Nothing special. Just because there was I chatting with somebody about the little nothings of life until that somebody came up with the expression “I am currently going through a phase of total emotional barrenness” and I liked it.

May the gods be sentimentally emotional with us…

  1. Literally translated, it could be said ’emotional aridity’ in English.

Michelle, ma belle…

What would I do if I had in front of me such a gorgeous lady like this, looking and smiling at me this way?

I would just fade out while trying my best to hide my embarassment…

Michelle Pfeiffer

May all the gods in heaven and hell be with you…

If It Be Your Will

When one is suffering is when one needs to rise his/her eyes up to the skies and seek a superior being who will be able to save him/her. This is a basic need of human beings when going through spiritual and/or material miserable situations. This is the basement for religion. This is religion.

As part of mankind, we really don’t trust much on our club’s members. When things run well we all are very much each other friendly. When they don’t, we need a god. How glassy we are. How particle sized we are. How chicken we are. How little things we are. Aren’t we? If I were god, I would laugh like hell on humans and would have fun with them. A lot! In my opinion, we would do not deserve any respect from any of the thousand gods we invented, if they’d exist!

I could say “God does not exist” but I won’t. As an atheist, I feel no pleasure at all defending my position as a non believer, if the definition of atheism drives us to the practice of not believing in a particular god. Actually, I have my own gods. Otherwise it would not make any sense to end my many posts here with the phrase “May the gods be with us” or similar. What I never do is rising my eyes to the skies when things go wrong. My gods do not live upstairs. This means that I am an atheist only for those believing that their god lives upstairs. Nevertheless, if theism is to accept the existence of gods, then I am not an atheist. I have created my own gods a couple of years ago and since then I am in peace with them. Barely, I am in peace with humans. My problem, I know…

My gods are comparable with the famous kid’s invisible friend. I talk to them but I don’t pray to them. They talk to me but they do not command me or threaten me. They do not accept to be called when I feel in danger but they don’t mind when I take their name in vain. They love my sentence “May the gods be with you” because they appreciate very much any advertising action where they are included. They let me use them as the hole we all, humans, need to have to stick our head in when we, on our own, get into shitty situations. They do not require I build up golden temples and they would really kill me if by any chance I would run any kind of sacred or holy war. They really are omnipotent and omnipresent. They don’t give a damn when I behave like an atheist and they mock of me when I get lost between the concepts of atheism and agnosticism or between the atheistic and agnostic behavior. Actually, I get very much in an undetermined position between not believing in god and not knowing exactly if I should or should not believe. On other words, I might be sometimes an agnostic atheist, other an agnostic theist, because even my gods sometimes are, sometimes not.

So, what to do, when we are stuck in a shitty situation where nobody can help us, not even ourselves, and we don’t believe in god (or gods)? Its precisely for not finding an answer to a problematic question like this one that every man and woman rather take as unarguable, undebatable, the existence of a God. Comfortable. Easy. Peaceful. When we are very much inline with pretty much everybody around us, we shorten the way to happiness. So, from then on, for the moments in life when around us everything seems to be falling down, we just say “if it be Your will” and it’s done. We don’t even argue about what was the cause and the effect because we simply believe. There is no religion without faith. We believe because we have faith or, if you prefer, we have faith because we believe.

Leonard Cohen is still one of my favorites. The voice, the lyrics, the sound, the attitude, the looking and the thoughts do please me. It does not mean I agree to everything he is or he represents. For instance, the song here below was composed when he was in a shitty situation and is very much “please, God, help me” oriented. The guy singing in this video clip is not Leonard Cohen. He is Antony Hegarty and he represents one of my indestructible life walls: the one that stops me of understanding homosexuality. I don’t believe in homosexuality but I accept its existence. As in many other situations in life, I coexist with things I am not able or I don’t wish to understand. Putting together a weak moment of a gentleman like Leonard Cohen and a strong performance of a man I don’t understand, sounds good to me. For me, religion and homosexuality are a hell of a thing sharing a common point: I don’t waste time arguing with anyone about them.

May the gods be with us on these broken hills…

In English

If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will

If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing

If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well

And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will

If it be your will.

Em Português

Se é o teu desejo
Que eu não fale mais
E minha voz ainda seja
O que era antes
Não mais vou falar
Ficarei mudo até
Me deixares fazê-lo
Se é esse o teu desejo

Se é o teu desejo
Que uma voz seja verdade
Sobre este calvário
Eu cantarei para ti
E deste calvário
Todas as tuas preces se ouvirão
Se é o teu desejo
Deixar-me cantar
E deste calvário
Todas as tuas preces se ouvirão
Se é o teu desejo
Deixar-me cantar

Se for esse o teu desejo
Se houver escolha
Deixa os rios encherem
E as colinas rejubilarem
Deixa a tua misericórdia transbordar
Sobre todos os corações a arder no inferno
Se é o teu desejo
Fazer-nos bem

E chamar-nos para perto
E abraçar-nos com força
Todos os teus filhos aqui
Nos seus trapos resplandecentes
Nos nossos trapos resplandecentes
Todos vestidos para matar
E acabar com esta noite
Se é esse o teu desejo

Se é o teu desejo.

by Leonard Cohen
If It Be Your Will, in Various Positions, © 1984
Free translation to Portuguese by Zé Barbosa.

Jabberwocky

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!”

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.

‘Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll
(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
Used as a jingle for nRP´s program “Celtic, British & Irish Music”.

He & She in the past tense (The Toilet).

SHE – You left the toilet seat in the upright position again.
HE – Have I?
SHE – Yes, I just told you have!
HE – Are you sure it was I?
SHE – Who else could be, can you tell me?
HE – You !!
SHE – Come on, don’t start…
HE – Start what?
SHE – Your usual evasions, it’s what it is.
HE – How come? How couldn’t have been you?
SHE – Maybe because I am a woman?
HE – So what?
SHE – So what??? Come on…
HE – Yes, so what? Can’t women lift a toilet seat too? Huh?
SHE – Poor little boy, so funny he is! Now women stand up to pee…
HE – I didn’t say that, did I?
SHE – Yes you did.
HE – No I didn’t! Now it’s you evading…
SHE – How come? How could have I put the seat up? I need it exactly to be down, damn it.
HE – Hey, hey, don’t start swearing!
SHE – I have not sworn!
HE – Yes you have.
SHE – No, I haven’t. And stop behaving like a child.
HE – Oh, now I am behaving like a child.
SHE – Of course you are, can’t you see?
HE – See, I haven’t. But I heard…
SHE – For Christ sake, you heard what?
HE – You swearing…
SHE – Stop! Stop! Don’t think you’re in the pub talking to your friends…
HE – Ho, ho, hold your horses there !! What the hell do you mean? Are you saying I am drunk?
SHE – No, not today, I guess…
HE – You guess? You guess??? I spent the whole day with you! Did you see me drinking, you holy grace?
SHE – How can I know? I am not watching you all the time, am I?
HE – Yes you are, oh yes if you are…
SHE – What do you mean with “oh yes if you are”?
HE – I mean exactly “oh yes if you are”, that’s what I mean!
SHE – I heard what you said! No need to repeat… I am not deaf!
HE – Well, sometimes you seem to be!
SHE – Now, he started with offenses!!
HE – I am not offending you, lady…
SHE – Yes you are.
HE – No, I am not.
SHE – You said I am deaf.
HE – Yeah? And you said I am a drunk.
SHE – I did not say you’re a drunk.
HE – Yes, you did.
SHE – No, I didn’t! I just told you not to talk to me as you talk to your friends in the pub.
HE – Oh really? And how your majesty can know how I talk to my lads in the pub?
SHE – Easy to know!
HE – Is it, oh mighty goddess? I never saw you there to know how do I chat in the pub!
SHE – I wouldn’t ever go there, even if you’d invite me.
HE – I am not talking about that, am I?
SHE – Yes you are, talking about your favorite subject: pubs!
HE – Oh really? I don’t remember to be the first using the word “pub”, was I?
SHE – Oh, you’re childish! Men never grow up…
HE – Really? Do women? What a grown thing you are, lady! Starting a fight just because you saw the toilet seat up…
SHE – I saw it up because you left it up.
HE – Have I?
SHE – Yes, I just told you have!
HE – Are you sure it was I?
SHE – Who else could be, can you tell me?
HE – You !!
SHE – Come on, don’t start…
HE – Start what?
SHE – damn it! I am sick of this. I am going to my mom’s.
HE – Oh, the mom’s house! So original! Little girl is gonna cry to her mom’s…
SHE – You suck !
HE – Yes, I will be sucking a couple of beers in the pub.
SHE – No wonder…
HE – I will be back here when you have no more tears to drop on your mom’s lap, poor little thing.
SHE – You suck (while she shuts the door behind her).