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Jūnijs 14., 2009
23:32 - alliteration
Pārlasot biļetes uzskrēju aliterācijai un atcerējos šo lielisko fragmentu no The Wrong Boy, kas sevī ietver gan trīs aliterācijas (nekad iepriekš vēl neesmu jūsmojusi par šo.. phonetic stylistic device) pirmajā teikumā, gan arī ironiju pēdējā teikumā:
I looked down the hill towards the plethora of pizza parlours, privately owned pebble-dashed prefabs and all the various vulgarised Victoriana.
‘This is Halifax,’ the driver proudly announced.
‘Thanks for telling us,’ I said. ‘I might have just mistaken it for Paris!’
Ak, kad es reiz beigšu atsaukties uz to grāmatu? :D
Garastāvoklis:: valoda valodiņa
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Marts 4., 2009
19:34
ZoooooooooooooMG!!! zomgzomgzomg! āāāāā! okok, miers. āsāāāāāā''ās';az!! mieeeeeers. miers. es tikko dabūju grāmatu, par kuru es sapņoju jau aptuveni pusotru gadu. The Perks of Being a Wallflower. By Stephen Chbosky. Ah, es jau rudenī 2007 jūsmoju par šo vārdu - wallflower.
"In social situations, a wallflower is a slang term used to describe shy or unpopular individuals who do not socialize or participate in activities at social events. It is most often used to describe someone who stays close to a wall and out of the main area of social activity.
The term originated from ballroom dances, where the people who did not wish to dance (or had no partner) remained close to the walls of the dance hall, blending in with flowers on the wallpaper."
Nocācu līdz šai grāmatai, šķiet, caut kaut kādu referenci uz The Smiths. Un ņemot vērā to, ka grāmata ir rakstīta vēstuļu/dienasgrāmatas ierakstu veidā, tad tā mani uzreiz uzrunāja, jo The Wrong Boy (by Willy Russell), ko jau vairākus gadus dēvēju par savu mīļāko grāmatu, ir būvēta tieši tāpat. Tagad gan tas viss šķiet tāds.. 'man bija piecpadsmit'. Tagad es vairs nespētu ar paceltu galvu teikt: "Most of the time I'm quite happy being miserable in my bedroom." Lai gan arī tie nebūtu meli. Ja viss būtu nedaudz savādāk, tad tas pat būtu pavisam trāpīgi. Šobrīd vienkārši nevar tā atļauties. Eh.. nu tā kā sazin pie kādām atklāsmēm šis literārais darbs mani novedīs.
Garastāvoklis:: zooooooooooooooomg
Mūzika: The Smiths
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Decembris 8., 2007
18:09 - Morisejs dvēselē.
Es pēkšņi sajutos tik Smitīgi, ka man sagribējās uztaisīt tādu 'Fuck the world! WE are listening, Morrissey!' vakaru. Bet, ak, no kā gan tas sastāvētu.. no manis.. Smitu video.. manis.. un tomātiem, kuriem noteikti nav stāvējis blakus neviens nelaimīgs dzīvnieks. Ar kjūrismu bija tik vienkārši: visi klausījās The Cure. Un arī tagad visi klausās The Cure. Vairāk vai mazāk. Kjūriem noteikti ir arī vairāk jauno klausītāju, nekā Smitiem. Protams, tie 'man patīk Friday I'm in Love un Lovesong. tās ir viņu visforšākās dziesmas!' mani īpaši gan nesajūsmina, bet, ak, sākums visiem ir tieši tāds. Cik no viņiem aiziet tālāk, tas jau ir cits jautājums..
And then he said, 'How come you're going all the way over there to find work?'
I thought about it. And then I said, 'Because of Morrissey.'
'Morris who?' he said.
'Morrissey,' I told him, 'not Morris who. Morrissey, the greatest living lyricist. He used to be with The Smiths.'
'Oh,' he said, 'that boring twat!'
(Willy Russel, "The Wrong Boy")
Ak, bet tas būtu tik jauki.. kaut daži cilvēki, ar narcisēm un gladiolām nokrāvušies (ziemas variantā tie varētu būt jebkuri zari. galvenā ir doma.), sēž un izjusti kauc līdzi 'I Know It's Over'.. daļēji gan tas jau ir piedzīvots. Vismaz tā sēdēšana un kaukšana līdzi 'I Know It's Over'. Jaungada naktī. :D Tas bija viens no visabsurdākajiem un arī jaukākajiem mirkļiem manā dzīvē. No vienas puses.. wtf, kāds vispār pašlaik apzinās šis dziesmas jēgu? Bet no otras puses - mēs esam trīs! To jau var nosaukt par masveida Morisejismu! Ak, laime!
Un es pat nezinu, vai varu cerēt uz ko tādu vēlreiz. Visdrīzāk jau, ka nē.
Garastāvoklis:: morisejs dvēselē
Mūzika: zi smic
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Oktobris 7., 2007
18:11 - Psycho The Rapist
We sat there in his room, me in front of his desk and my Mam sat on a chair behind me. And he wasn't a bit nice. He wasn't nice at all, like my Mam had said he was. He had a bald head and a big bushy beard so it looked as though his head was on upside down. And the first thing he said to me was, 'So, Raymond, do you know who I am?'
I just nodded. It was a stupid question. I didn't even answer it. I knew who he was and he must have known who he was so what was the point in answering him?
'So,' he said, like he was starting to get impatient with me and we'd only been there two minutes, 'who am I then?'
My Mam nudged me. And I didn't like her nudging me and I didn't like him. I said, 'Psycho The Rapist!'
When I said that he looked at me like he was all shocked and surprised and my Mam put her hand to her mouth and whispered, 'Oh my God!'
'Psycho The Rapist?' he said, frowning at me as if I'd just said something really stupid. 'What could possibly lead you to believe that I'm called Psycho The Rapist?'
I pointed at the card that was stood on his desk and I said, 'Because that's what it says on there!'
He lifted the card up then and turned it round and looked at it. Then he turned it back so it was facing me and he pointed at the word with his finger like he was an infants teacher teaching 'A' for Apple and 'B' for Ball.
'Raymond, this word,' he said, 'it says, "psycho...therapist". "Psychotherapist". You say it. You try it, "psychotherapist".'
(Willy Russel, "The Wrong Boy")
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Īstenībā es jau sen gribēju kaut ko pacitēt no šī lielā, baltā, man mīļā kluča ar nosaukumu "The Wrong Boy". Gan jau vēl kādreiz kaut ko atcerēšos.
Mūzika: Sparks
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