Pessoal, é óbvio que nada vai ganhar da literatura nos próximos milênios. Não da para filmar a ira de Aquiles melhor do que foi descrita por Homero, com ou sem Brad Pitt. E também não vai aparecer psicólogo melhor que Machado de Assis do mesmo jeito que não há música que inspire o niilismo do Thomas Bernhard. E por mais que o Alan Moore tente, a paranóia do Thomas Pynchon não é quadrinizável. É só ler "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" e depois ver o filme.
Mas adentrar (invadir, às vezes) a alma é coisa as outras artes fazem com facilidade espantosa. Federer jogando tênis. Sejam elas louvadas por isso.
Por que? Porque meu humor atômico é sucscetível a esses toques, seja Bach, Edward Hopper, Sofia Coppola (WTF?) ou Rolling Stones. Porque Martin Scorcese nos guarda uma surpresa para sexta-feira (espero eu). E porque um dia escreveram: "(...) a conclusão é que o rock tem sim Sympathy for the Devil, mas tem também, e com a mesma banda, Shine a Light."
"Exile On Main St." (1972) devia ser cobrado no vestibular.
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I went out walking
Through streets paved with gold,
Lifted some stones of the skin and bones
Of a city without a soul.
I went out walking
Under an atomic sky,
Where the ground won’t turn and the rain it burns
Like the tears when I said goodbye.
Yeah, I went with nothing
Nothing but the thought of you
I went wandering.
I went drifting
Through the capitals of tin,
Where men can’t walk or freely talk
And sons turn their fathers in.
I stopped outside a church house
Where the citizens lack to sit,
They say they want the kingdom
But they don’t want God in it.
I went out riding
Down that old eight lane,
I passed by a thousand signs
Looking for my own name.
I went with nothing,
But the thought you’d be there too
Looking for you.
I wet out there
In search of experience
To taste and touch and to view as much
As a man can before he redempts.
I went out searching
Looking for one good man
A spirit who would not bend or break
Who would sit at his fathers right hand.
I went walking
With a bible and a gun
The word of God laid heavy on my heart
I was sure I was the one.
Now Jesus, don’t you wait up
Jesus I’ll be coming home soon
I went out for the papers
Told her I’d be back by noon.
Yeah, I left with nothing
But the thought you’d be there too
Looking for you.
Yeah, I left with nothing
Nothing but the thought of you
I went wandering.
(U2 & Johnny Cash)
Through streets paved with gold,
Lifted some stones of the skin and bones
Of a city without a soul.
I went out walking
Under an atomic sky,
Where the ground won’t turn and the rain it burns
Like the tears when I said goodbye.
Yeah, I went with nothing
Nothing but the thought of you
I went wandering.
I went drifting
Through the capitals of tin,
Where men can’t walk or freely talk
And sons turn their fathers in.
I stopped outside a church house
Where the citizens lack to sit,
They say they want the kingdom
But they don’t want God in it.
I went out riding
Down that old eight lane,
I passed by a thousand signs
Looking for my own name.
I went with nothing,
But the thought you’d be there too
Looking for you.
I wet out there
In search of experience
To taste and touch and to view as much
As a man can before he redempts.
I went out searching
Looking for one good man
A spirit who would not bend or break
Who would sit at his fathers right hand.
I went walking
With a bible and a gun
The word of God laid heavy on my heart
I was sure I was the one.
Now Jesus, don’t you wait up
Jesus I’ll be coming home soon
I went out for the papers
Told her I’d be back by noon.
Yeah, I left with nothing
But the thought you’d be there too
Looking for you.
Yeah, I left with nothing
Nothing but the thought of you
I went wandering.
(U2 & Johnny Cash)
Meus Links
Links
- aint talking
- Apostos
- Aurora Borealis
- Becker - Posner Blog
- Blog do Reinaldo Azevedo
- Cereja Ninja
- Dancing With Myself
- Feliz Nova Dieta
- Freakonomics Blog
- Load Failed
- Marrom
- Mises Economics Blog
- MONSTERING
- Pai Al Knows Best
- Períneo
- puragoiaba
- r e p e t e n t e
- Roger's Rules
- Spaceyship.com
- There's no real truce in my fury
- Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others. - Bruno Litio
- Voz do Deserto
- Was ist los?
- Wunderblogs
Um comentário:
Meu sobrinho, four years old, viu a capa. Achou feio e teve medo do cara com as bolas na boca. Aquilo que já era para eu ter feito, fiz naquela hora: quebrei o CD, rasguei a capa e juntos jogamos tudo no lixo. Sou padrinho do moleque, dou o exemplo (ou será que recebo? sou padrinho ou apadrinhado? e o batismo, quem recebeu? eu ou ele?).
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