20091126
20091121
Tu mamá estará orgullosa
Cuando gana tu equipo lo disfrutas tanto que entras en todas las páginas que hablen de ello para revolcarte en tu gozo sabiendo que pocos en el mundo te entienden en esos momentos.
Pero cuando lees algo escrito por un profesional que podría haber sido escrito por un estudiante de primaria se te comen los demonios al recordar que vivimos en un mundo absurdo que funciona gracias a los cuatro genios que tiran de todos nosotros hacia el futuro.
Todos (todos) metemos la pata al escribir a máquina o en el ordenador, pero no a todos nos pagan por ello.
Tuve que dejar de leer.
Pero cuando lees algo escrito por un profesional que podría haber sido escrito por un estudiante de primaria se te comen los demonios al recordar que vivimos en un mundo absurdo que funciona gracias a los cuatro genios que tiran de todos nosotros hacia el futuro.
Todos (todos) metemos la pata al escribir a máquina o en el ordenador, pero no a todos nos pagan por ello.
20091119
El tio más showman de la tele
Así es Arguiñano, que se monta un programita sin tias buenas, fúmbol ni nada de eso y consigue que te quedes mirando emocionado con su sola presencia.
20091109
Ronnie Drew - The band played "Waltzing Matilda"
Hace algo más de un año que Ronnie Drew bajó el telón por última vez para nunca más volver a sorprender al mundo con su voz rota y el rasgueo de su guitarra. Se fue la voz de los Dubliners buscando a una esposa que había perdido unos años antes, desde entonces Ronnie sólo buscó su billete de ida.
Siempre que pongo un disco de los Dubliners me acuerdo de Ronnie Drew y de Luke Kelly, quienes llevaron el concepto de "Irish Rover" más allá de sus límites secando todos los bares de Irlanda y parte del extranjero.
Sirva esto como pequeño homenaje a un gran tipo.
Letra (por si eres de esos que cantan mientras ven los vídeos):
When I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said: Son,
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli
It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
Oh those that were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things than dying
Oh no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
Now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
Siempre que pongo un disco de los Dubliners me acuerdo de Ronnie Drew y de Luke Kelly, quienes llevaron el concepto de "Irish Rover" más allá de sus límites secando todos los bares de Irlanda y parte del extranjero.
Sirva esto como pequeño homenaje a un gran tipo.
Letra (por si eres de esos que cantan mientras ven los vídeos):
When I was a young man I carried me pack
And I lived the free life of the rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915 my country said: Son,
It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When the ship pulled away from the quay
And amid all the tears, flag waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli
It well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets, and he showered us with shell
And in five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
He nearly blew us back home to Australia
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
When we stopped to bury our slain
Well we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again
Oh those that were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head
And when I awoke in me hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
I never knew there was worse things than dying
Oh no more I'll go Waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind and the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And when the ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the Band played Waltzing Matilda
When they carried us down the gangway
Oh nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned all their faces away
Now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Renewing their dreams of past glories
I see the old men all tired, stiff and worn
Those weary old heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer the call
But year after year, their numbers get fewer
Someday, no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
So who'll come a-Waltzing Matilda with me?
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