"She is wearing rags and feathers
From Salvation Army counters,
And the sun pours down like honey
On our lady of the harbour;
And she shows you where to look
Among the garbage and the flowers"
L.Cohen
semi-daily quote:
"rubatele pure i soldi rubatele anche i ricordi
ma lasciatele sempre la sua dolce curiosità
ditele che l'ho perduta quando l'ho capita
ditele che la perdono per averla tradita"
De Gregori
sul comodino:
Stranger in a strange land (Heinlein)
Fight Club (Palahniuk)
in playlist:
Lou Reed
Fionn Regan
Grateful Dead
things to do:
sopravvivere all'Erasmus - perdere 10 chili - imparare il tedesco - prendere la patente - imparare a suonare la chitarra - laurearmi (specialistica)
Buongiorno! il nuovo blog è completo (ma quanto sono brava :-P), spero vi piaccia, e spero soprattutto che dopo una prima visita tornerete a "leggermi". Forse conoscete già il mio sito, Quattrostracci. Stavolta gli stracci vengono da Cohen, dalla misteriosa Suzanne. Spero, nel mio piccolo, di potervi indicare anch'io "where to look, among the garbage and the flowers". Se poi non vi annoierete, sarà già un successo :-)
Kisses
la webmaestra
p.s. il sito è ottimizzato per una visualizzazione a 1024x768.
Come dicevo, basta dare valori simbolico-feticistici alle cose: ho la camera piena di simboli! E come è noto i simboli sono per lo più inutili e ingombranti.
Cedonsi:
carta da regalo, rotolo plastificato per rilegare libri, bruciaessenze con candeline, katane di plastica, Nunchaku di plastica, Gurzo di pelouche fatto a mano, cubo di rubik intero ma molto usato, gioco Wari, shampoo antiforfora Fructis
... si tenne, poi si tenne ...As I was saying, enough with symbolical-fetish values to all kinds of objects: my room is packed with symbols! And symbols are well-known to be useless and huge.
I'm giving away:
wrapping paper, plastified paper, incense-burner with small candles, plastic katanas, plastic Nunchaku, a home-made Gurzo puppet, rubik cube, still working but too old, Wari game, anti-dandruff shampoo
Ciao a tutti, siete tornati? Io sono tornata. Tutto bene? Sì tutto bene.
Vi racconterei del Ferrara Buskers Festival, ma c'è poco da raccontare a voce, più che altro ci sarebbe da riprodurre i colori, ma soprattutto i suoni e i rumori del Festival. Ci provo con queste foto e questi video.
Mi raccomando, quando parti per le vacanze porta con te il tuo Busker, non abbandonarlo sull'autostrada. Il Busker è il migliore amico dell'uomo.Hello everybody, are you back? I am. Everything's fine? Yes, it is.
I'd like to tell you something about Ferrara Buskers Festival, but there's not that much to tell with words, I should rather tell you about the colors, the sound, the music, but they're not easy to report. I'll try with some pics and clips.
Important: when you go on holiday, bring your Busker with you, don't leave it stranded on a highway. Buskers are a man's best friends.
I used to have a crazy grandma
she used to breed rag kittens
she used to live on a terrace
she used to sleep in a tub
in a tub just by the seashore
she used to eat just mussles
which had been raised in black water
and she would never have cholera
not even plague, not even sickness
what a crazy grandma!
She used to tell so many tales
crazy stories all over the place
she used to make up a real mess
witches riding a frog
evil dwarves under the sea
She used to eat just crazy mushrooms
with the poisoned top
she used to eat them in a salad
and she would never be sick
what a crazy grandma!
"once upon a time" she would tell me
"there was a bad boy, his name was Pinocchio
but since he was so bad
people called him Little Red Riding Hood..."
but granma, this is not true!
"you just shut up!"
"Little Red Riding Hood, aka "the shooting one"
would always carry a rifle
a rifle with bullets
and he would shoot every butterfly"
but granma, this is not true!
"you just shut up!"
"He used to smash tomatoes with a tractor
and to poison rivers with cyanide
he used to uncork the oil tankers
to pollute sea with oil"
but granma, this is not true!
"you just shut up!"
"there was a wolf in the woods,
he was sweet and gentle, and well-mannered,
he used to play chasing elicopters
which were flying just above the date fruits"
but granma, this is not true!
"you just shut up!"
"One day Little Red Riding Hood attacked a wolf
that, out of breath, would scream "Help! help!"
Then he would capture him with a sack
and ask the wolf grandma for a big ransom"
but granma, this is not true!
"you just shut up!"
"But luckily enough there was a hunter going by
he was hunting Little Red Riding Hoods, and.. PAM!
he shot one and Little Red Riding Hood was dead
the wolf had been rescued, but he had pissed himself"
"The charm was broken by the fear
the wolf suddently turns into
a beautiful witch, with a lot of teeths
and a lot of suitors arrived:
3 ogres, 3 toads and 3 snakes.
and they lived happily ever after!"
but granma, this is not possible, this is not true!
"you just shut up! you just shut up! or I won't tell you fairy tales anymore!"
E fummo disarcionati, io e mio padre, a pochi metri da casa, grazie all'uso creativo della freccia da parte di una ben nutrita donna al volante. Illesi tutti, tranne qualche centimetro quadrato di pelle del mio fianco e della mia spalla sinistra, che è stato artisticamente scartavetrato dall'asfalto. E ora ho dei rognosissimi bendaggi. Uno scampa alle meduse, si protegge dalle scottature solari, e poi si sminchia l'abbronzatura in questo modo... We ended up being bucked off, my dad and I, just a few meters away from home, thanks to the creativity of a driving lady in her use of the indicator. Not even a scratch for anybody, a part from a few square centimetres of skin on my left hip and shoulder, which have been nicely sanded away by the street pave. Now I've got to deal with rather annoying patches and bendages. You manage to escape the jellyfish, you avoid sunburns, and you end up screwing up your tan in such a way...
I performativi sono dei verbi particolari. Sono quei verbi che realizzano il loro stesso significato nel momento in cui li pronunci. Come "ti giuro che": tu dici "giuro", e mentre lo dici stai giurando proprio perché lo dici. Giuro, prometto, condanno, maledico, dichiaro marito e moglie, scomunico. Sono delle piccole parole magiche, appena lo dici, lo fai. In alcune culture anche "guarisco" è un performativo: se lo dice lo sciamano nello stesso tempo, per quella cultura, ti sta guarendo.
Purtroppo però, almeno nella nostra cultura, ci sono tanti verbi che performativi non sono. Ti sono vicino, ti abbraccio, ti sostengo, ti faccio ridere, ti consolo. Non puoi dirli (o scriverli) e "farli" nello stesso tempo. Ma a volte vorrei che lo fossero.Performatives are peculiar verbs. They are those verbs which realize their meaning in the very same moment you pronounce them. Take "to swear": you say "I swear you that", and in that very same moment you're swearing just by saying it. To swear, to promise, to condemn, to curse, to pronounce man and wife, to excommunicate. They're like small magic words, as soon as you say it, you're doing it. In some cultures also "to heal" is a performative verb: if it's the shaman to say it, in the very same moment, to that culture, he's healing you.
Unfortunately tough, at least in our culture, there are so many verbs that are not performatives. I'm with you, I hug you, I support you, I make you laugh, I console you. You can't just pronounce them (or write them) and "do" them in the very same moment. But sometimes I wish they were.
"C'est gros comme un rôti de famille...
Rouge viande tout comme...
Saucissonné dans l'épaisse couenne de ses langes...
C'est luisant...
C'est replet de partout...
C'est un bébé.
C'est l'innocence.
Mais gaffe?
Quand ça roupille, paupières et poings serrés,
c'est dans le seul but de se réveiller et de le faire savoir.
Et quand ça se réveille?
C'est Verdun!
C'est la mémoire du monde!
Toutes les boucheries de l'homme en une seule bataille!"
(Daniel Pennac)
Elenco delle ninnananne che mio nipote ha "subito" negli ultimi giorni (e non a bassa voce, ma a gole spiegate, e ugole più o meno concordi e armoniche):
- La canzone del sole
- Per i morti di Reggio Emilia
- Eskimo
- Fischia il vento
- Addio Lugano bella
- Dimmi bel giovane
(cosa penseranno i vicini?)
genitore 1: "ma con te il cognome non si tramanda... 'ste figlie femmine"
genitore 2: "in caso ci pensa l'altra, le facciamo fare la ragazza madre"
E così via. Il bimbo ha solo 2 mesi, ma deve avere una ben strana idea della sua famiglia. Forse è per questo che strilla...This baby is being risen up with curious lullabuies, like old hymns against the fascism, or old communist and anarchist song
So I'm wondering what the neighbors will think about us, and also what the baby will think about his family. Maybe that's the reason why he cries so much...
one of my parents: "well, too bad this baby will not have our surname.. that's the result of having two daughters"
the other one: "it'll be the other one to do that.. we'll make a unmarried mother out of her"
- Your Guitar always has time for you.
- Your Guitar never complains if you put on a few pounds.
- Your Guitar never finishes before you do.
- Your Guitar never spends a "night out with the Guitars" and comes home with a strange rash on its fretboard.
- Guitars don't abandon you at gatherings for more interesting players.
- Guitars never put you down, yet you can put them down whenever you wish.
- You don't have to explain to a Guitar if you don't feel like playing tonight
- Second-hand Guitars don't go to see previous owners when you're out of town.
(da http://www.guitarsite.com)Ho suonato spesso la chitarra negli ultimi giorni, e non (solo) per i motivi sopra elencati. Non è certo per voglia di autodisciplina (il mio Hanon ha le ragnatele, ormai), probabilmente solo perché fa passare il tempo più velocemente. E per la prima volta in vita mia sento il bisogno di tagliare corte le unghie della mano sinistra e lasciare crescere quelle della destra, ma continuo a trovarla un'asimmetria decisamente antiestetica (tipo "n'ascella sì, 'n'ascella no").I've been playing the guitar quite often in the past few days, and not just for these reasons. It's not because I want some sort of self-discipline (my Hanon book of exercises it's covered with spider webs), but maybe it's because it makes time go faster. And for the first time in my life I feel like cutting my left hand nails short and letting the right hand ones grow, but I still find it so unelegant and asymmetric.
i tentativi, ripetuti negli ultimi 2 mesi, di mettere un telefono fisso in questa casa sono stati inutili
prima, il passaggio del cavo, che si perdeva tra i muri di casa senza arrivare alla presa.
poi, l'acquisto del telefono,
abbiamo già il numero, l'attesa dell'attivazione
"domani avremo il modem, almeno il 56k"
c'era da scommetterci: la linea non viene attivata
inizia il balletto del call-center, le lamentele
il resoconto dei problemi
il ping-pong tra gli uffici A: "le passo B", B: "le passo C", C: "le passo A"
e A, B e C, concordi: "la richiameremo"
pochi giorni dopo, nessuna notizia
il telefono non piange neanche, è proprio muto
ricomincia il ritornello, la musichetta di cortesia, persino i jingle sembrano una beffa
"prova la nostra offerta ADSL-flat"
e anche l'operatore si unisce al coro: "nel frattempo, posso proporle queste nuove offerte?"
il ferragosto si avvicina, come una condanna
parlare con gli operatori è sempre più difficile
la corsa a ostacoli dei messaggi registrati porta a una nuova voce umana
su cui viene riversata tutta l'esasperazione della vicenda, che i call-center sappiano
che si minaccia di passare alla concorrenza
"le manderemo qualcuno per risolvere il problema nei prossimi due giorni"
le scadenze e le proroge arrivano al giro di boa del ferragosto
un nuovo responso dall'oracolo:
"il suo numero non esiste più, non posso fare niente per lei"you try for 2 months to fix telephone and connection for the house, but in vain
first, there are problems with the cable, it gets lost through the house walls without getting where it should
finally you manage, and you buy a telephone
you've got your number, you just have to wait for it to be on
"tomorrow we're going to have a modem, at least 56k"
you could have bet on it: the day after, it won't work
you'll start calling the call centre, complaining
you'll report on your problems
like a table-tennis game, A tells you to talk with B, B to talk with C, and C to talk with A
and A, B and C do agree: "we'll call you back"
a few days later, no news, the phone is mute
the usual chorus, the jingle music and even commercial ads sound to be laughing at you
"try our new ADSL offer"
and the customers care guy joins the chorus: "while we wait, may I talk to you about our new offers?"
the 15th of august (it's holiday here) is getting nearer, like a curse
it gets harder to get to talk with someone on the call centre
the obstacle race leads you to talk to another guy
you'll lay on him all your frustration, let them now
you're threatening them to switch to another company
"we'll send someone there to solve your problems in the next two days"
the deadlines and their extensions arrive to the 15th
and then the oracle answers
"your phone number doesn't exist, I can't help you"
Come al solito, qualcuno ha dato fuoco alla riserva naturale. L'ironica tragicità delle cose siciliane prevede che a dar fuoco ai boschi siano gli stessi che avrebbero il compito di proteggerli dalle fiamme. Storie di contratti rinnovati, di mafie grandi e piccole, danno fuoco ai boschi con scientificità, calcolando bene la direzione e la forza del vento.
E allora io e la mia famiglia eravamo sugli scogli, a guardare il mare, e sulle nostre teste scendevano in picchiata due elicotteri e un canadair a prendere acqua dal mare, per tornare in fretta all'incendio, volando bassi.
E noi a guardarli, e chiederci quanti pesci sarebbero andati a morire nel bosco.As always, someone set fire to the wildlife reserve. Thanks to some kind of ironic tragedy, embodied by everything that happens in Sicily, the ones who set fire to the woods are the same one who are supposed to protect them from fire. It's part of some contract struggle, of smaller and bigger mafias, they're so precise and scientific when setting fire to the woods, after calculating the wind's direction and strength.
And so there's me and my family, on the rocky beach, staring at the sea, while above our heads there's two elicopters and a canadair nosediving to fetch water from the sea, and hurrying back to the fire, flying low.
And we were just watching them, wondering how many fishes would have gone and die in the woods.
"She is wearing rags and feathers
