It's raining.
Not in an undefined timespace continuum.
Right now, as I write this, on Tuesday, June 20th 2007, at 0:28 (Paris Time), it's raining cats and dogs.
I'd say tigers and wolves actually.
The night is dark. Darkness just pierced by the lamp posts. I can hear a neverending drum solo on my roof window. Last time I checked, you could see the rain falling in the dim light of the street, falling in big drops just like in movies.
When the drops hits the road, you can see the hole they make in the layer of water that covers the ground.
And the rains pours just like in a Hollywood movie. Until you see it for real, you think this size of drops is an invention of a crazy techguy.
Somewhere, far away, the thunder rumbles and echoes.
It is late, but I can't help listening to the rain, reminding me of this evening when I strolled under a first wave of water. The same big drops. Each one of them splashing agisnt the floor, coming over your shoes. Water flowing down the street, water falling from the sky, water infiltrating any piece of garment straight to your underwear.
Water everywhere.
2007/06/19
2007/06/18
What is rock 'n' roll ?
Rock 'n' Roll. These words can make you shake your head expectantly or frown with disdain.
It means many things to many people.
Here, I'll try a futile attempt to give my own definition of it. It may not be yours, it may be close to something you feel as well. Anyway, it is my vision. The sense I put behind Rock'n'Roll.
To me, Rock'n'Roll ain't noise pollution. Yeah, AC/DC told the world that before I did, I know.
Yes, Rock (to make it shorter) is music. Music. With a BIG m.
Where Jazz had "the swing", this mysterious thing you couldn't define but that made you move your feet and snap your fingers, Rock has "the groove".
It doesn't make you snap your fingers.
It makes you want to move your head in any direction possible, it makes you want to jump around, it makes you want to kick the air, it makes you want to scream your guts out. It makes you high, somehow.
To me, Rock includes bands like the Doors or even Pink Floyd, even though Pink Floyd is based on another kind of effect, a little more laid back. Yet, when I listen to Pink Floyd, I *do* feel like screaming, and I sure feel kinda high.
But Rock goes as far as Heavy Metal is concerned, it goes through the whole 70's Hard Rock movement with AC/DC or Deep Purple, and takes in its stride some fusion bands like Rage Against The Machine or Red Hot Chili Peppers. It goes as far as some Death Metal, but to me it still needs some "finesse". Take Children of Bodom.
I will not mention all the bands I consider Rock. There's too much, and there are many i just don't know.
But Rock just has to move my guts.
And that is why I have a problem with what they call Rock lately, all these brit-like bands, who sound kinda old.
Most of them just don't make my big toe wiggle. Not even.
Is it just me ? I don't know. But I don't judge. I just express a feeling. And to have the Rock, you need a little magic...
As to the lifestyle involved, there's none. The point with Rock is not how much you display your Rockness. The point with Rock is how much you enjoy the Music. And besides music, how much you enjoy life.
Rock may make you scream your guts out, but you have to love this feeling somehow.
It means many things to many people.
Here, I'll try a futile attempt to give my own definition of it. It may not be yours, it may be close to something you feel as well. Anyway, it is my vision. The sense I put behind Rock'n'Roll.
To me, Rock'n'Roll ain't noise pollution. Yeah, AC/DC told the world that before I did, I know.
Yes, Rock (to make it shorter) is music. Music. With a BIG m.
Where Jazz had "the swing", this mysterious thing you couldn't define but that made you move your feet and snap your fingers, Rock has "the groove".
It doesn't make you snap your fingers.
It makes you want to move your head in any direction possible, it makes you want to jump around, it makes you want to kick the air, it makes you want to scream your guts out. It makes you high, somehow.
To me, Rock includes bands like the Doors or even Pink Floyd, even though Pink Floyd is based on another kind of effect, a little more laid back. Yet, when I listen to Pink Floyd, I *do* feel like screaming, and I sure feel kinda high.
But Rock goes as far as Heavy Metal is concerned, it goes through the whole 70's Hard Rock movement with AC/DC or Deep Purple, and takes in its stride some fusion bands like Rage Against The Machine or Red Hot Chili Peppers. It goes as far as some Death Metal, but to me it still needs some "finesse". Take Children of Bodom.
I will not mention all the bands I consider Rock. There's too much, and there are many i just don't know.
But Rock just has to move my guts.
And that is why I have a problem with what they call Rock lately, all these brit-like bands, who sound kinda old.
Most of them just don't make my big toe wiggle. Not even.
Is it just me ? I don't know. But I don't judge. I just express a feeling. And to have the Rock, you need a little magic...
As to the lifestyle involved, there's none. The point with Rock is not how much you display your Rockness. The point with Rock is how much you enjoy the Music. And besides music, how much you enjoy life.
Rock may make you scream your guts out, but you have to love this feeling somehow.
2007/06/14
Special message
As you all might have realized, dear readers (do I still have any ?), this weblog is updated on quite a random basis.
I have an explanation for that : I live in France, with French people, doing French things, and telling the story of it all seems more relevant in French, for French.
Maybe I am a bit of an ethnocentrist, here. Maybe I am just meek, considering my wicked self unworthy of the interest of the brilliants foreigners who might come across this page.
Or just somewhere in the middle.
Anyway, if I am writing today, it is because I felt like writing about something which is of little concern to my fellow French, and of a little concern for one particular person who at this time cannot read French.
So let's cut the crap and say, or write, what I wanna say from the start :
Happy Birthday, dear Naomi.
Much ado about nothing ? Tell her that !
Disclaimer : I take no responsibility for any damage caused as a consequence of calling my friend Naomi "nothing". I wouldn't do that. I advise you don't. Now, you're a big fella, you know what is right for you. Or so I hope.
I have an explanation for that : I live in France, with French people, doing French things, and telling the story of it all seems more relevant in French, for French.
Maybe I am a bit of an ethnocentrist, here. Maybe I am just meek, considering my wicked self unworthy of the interest of the brilliants foreigners who might come across this page.
Or just somewhere in the middle.
Anyway, if I am writing today, it is because I felt like writing about something which is of little concern to my fellow French, and of a little concern for one particular person who at this time cannot read French.
So let's cut the crap and say, or write, what I wanna say from the start :
Happy Birthday, dear Naomi.
Much ado about nothing ? Tell her that !
Disclaimer : I take no responsibility for any damage caused as a consequence of calling my friend Naomi "nothing". I wouldn't do that. I advise you don't. Now, you're a big fella, you know what is right for you. Or so I hope.
2007/03/19
The Monkey and The Butterfly
This short story is based on an idea we had with my friend Naomi this summer. A starlight sky can inspire a lot of things, eh ?
The Monkey and The Butterfly
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, a very few can dream.
Among these very few are monkeys, similar to the one we know. Among all these monkeys, at this very moment, some are sleeping. And among these sleeping monkeys, one does a very special dream. This monkey is The Monkey.
In its dream, it imagines creatures that would be similar to it. Since it fell asleep, it has seen these monkeys change, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, grow, communicate with a complete language… and end up calling themselves “Humans”.
It has seen these Humans waging war and making peace. It has seen these Humans creating mad things. It has seen these Humans being the worst and the best of creatures.
It has seen these Humans organising sounds and making from them what they have called “Music”. And it has seen Music evolve in its own way to become what they named “Heavy Metal”.
The Monkey, in his sleep, slowly headbangs in rythm with the Music the Humans are playing.
These humans think they live, love and die. But they are merely creatures imagined by The Monkey in his sleep.
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, only one can dream.
This creature is a butterfly. No one knows what this butterfly looks like, for no one ever saw it. This butterfly has many fellow butterflies, but it is the only one which can dream. It is The Butterfly.
One day, he landed on an opium poppy flowering, and drank the nectar from it, as he would on a any flower. Instantly, it began to dream, his feeding tube still linked to the flower, continuously feeding itself with nectar.
And it dreamt of a world where a monkey, The Monkey, dreams of humans while headbanging. It also dreamt that one day, The Monkey would awaken. And that, stimulated by Heavy Metal, it would take two stones and hit them strongly against each other to find this rhythm which got lost when it woke up.
And from these stones would burst some sparks. And The Monkey would create Fire. Then, monkeys would follow it, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, and grow, and communicate, and call themselves Humans…
All this is dreamt of by The Butterfly…
But who dreams of The Butterfly ?
The Monkey and The Butterfly
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, a very few can dream.
Among these very few are monkeys, similar to the one we know. Among all these monkeys, at this very moment, some are sleeping. And among these sleeping monkeys, one does a very special dream. This monkey is The Monkey.
In its dream, it imagines creatures that would be similar to it. Since it fell asleep, it has seen these monkeys change, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, grow, communicate with a complete language… and end up calling themselves “Humans”.
It has seen these Humans waging war and making peace. It has seen these Humans creating mad things. It has seen these Humans being the worst and the best of creatures.
It has seen these Humans organising sounds and making from them what they have called “Music”. And it has seen Music evolve in its own way to become what they named “Heavy Metal”.
The Monkey, in his sleep, slowly headbangs in rythm with the Music the Humans are playing.
These humans think they live, love and die. But they are merely creatures imagined by The Monkey in his sleep.
Everyone knows what the World looks like. A big blue ball lost in the Universe. On this big blue ball, various creatures live together with various degrees of Harmony.
Among all these creatures, only one can dream.
This creature is a butterfly. No one knows what this butterfly looks like, for no one ever saw it. This butterfly has many fellow butterflies, but it is the only one which can dream. It is The Butterfly.
One day, he landed on an opium poppy flowering, and drank the nectar from it, as he would on a any flower. Instantly, it began to dream, his feeding tube still linked to the flower, continuously feeding itself with nectar.
And it dreamt of a world where a monkey, The Monkey, dreams of humans while headbanging. It also dreamt that one day, The Monkey would awaken. And that, stimulated by Heavy Metal, it would take two stones and hit them strongly against each other to find this rhythm which got lost when it woke up.
And from these stones would burst some sparks. And The Monkey would create Fire. Then, monkeys would follow it, lose their hair, stand on their back limbs, and grow, and communicate, and call themselves Humans…
All this is dreamt of by The Butterfly…
But who dreams of The Butterfly ?
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