Fire Coming Out of the Monkey’s Head by Gorillaz (traduzione)

One of my favorite songs by Gorillaz. Prophetic maybe. I hope not.
I’m probably a bit romantic toward nature, I know myself, but it fascinates me and I’m happy every time I’m surrounded by it. In my opinion, as I see it, human beings are “more human” when are in the nature, or in a kind of way are different. Simpler. Honest. Sincere.
P.S. the voice you hear, is the great Dennis Hopper.

(thanks to azlyrics.com for the original lyric)
Once upon a time at the foot of a great mountain,
there was a town where the people known as Happyfolk lived,
their very existence a mystery to the rest of the world,
obscured as it was by great clouds.
Here they played out their peaceful lives,
innocent of the litany of excess and violence that was growing in the world below.
To live in harmony with the spirit of the mountain called Monkey was enough.
Then one day Strangefolk arrived in the town.
They came in camouflage, hidden behind dark glasses, but no one noticed them: they only saw shadows.
You see, without the Truth of the Eyes, the Happyfolk were blind.

Falling out of aeroplanes and hiding out in holes
Waiting for the sunset to come, people going home
Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head
Now everybody dancing the dance of the dead,
the dance of the dead,
the dance of the dead

In time, Strangefolk found their way into the higher reaches of the mountain,
and it was there that they found the caves of unimaginable Sincerity and Beauty.
By chance, they stumbled upon the Place Where All Good Souls Come to Rest.
The Strangefolk, they coveted the jewels in these caves above all things,
and soon they began to mine the mountain, its rich seam fueling the chaos of their own world.
Meanwhile, down in the town, the Happyfolk slept restlessly,
their dreams invaded by shadowy figures digging away at their souls.
Every day, people would wake and stare at the mountain.
Why was it bringing darkness into their lives?
And as the Strangefolk mined deeper and deeper into the mountain,
holes began to appear, bringing with them a cold and bitter wind that chilled the very soul of the monkey.
For the first time, the Happyfolk felt fearful for they knew that soon the Monkey would stir from its deep sleep.
And then came a sound. Distant first, it grew into castrophany so immense it could be heard far away in space.
There were no screams. There was no time.
The mountain called Monkey had spoken.
There was only fire.
And then, nothing.

O little town in U.S.A, your time has come to see
There’s nothing you believe you want
But where were you when it all came down on me?
Did you call me now?

 

C’era una volta ai piedi di una grande montagna
un paese dove gli abitanti, noti come Gentefelice, vivevano.
La loro stessa esistenza era un mistero per il resto del mondo,
oscurata com’era da grosse nuvole.
Qui svolgevano le loro vite, ignari della litania riguardo eccesso e violenza che stava crescendo nel mondo sottostante.
Vivere in armonia con lo spirito della montagna chiamato Scimmia bastava.
Ma un giorno Gentesconosciuta arrivò al paese.
Arrivarono in mimetica, nascosti dietro occhiali neri, ma nessuno si accorse di loro: notarono soltanto delle ombre.
Vedi, senza la Verità degli Occhi, la Gentefelice era cieca.

Cadendo da aeroplani e nascondendosi in buchi
Aspettando che giunga il tramonto, che le persone se ne vadano a casa
Saltando fuori alle loro spalle e sparandogli in testa
Ora tutti danzano la danza del morto,
la danza del morto,
la danza del morto.

Al tempo, la Gentesconosciuta trovò una via attraverso i più alti tratti della montagna,
e fu lì che scoprì le caverne dell’inimmaginabile Sincerità e Bellezza.
Per caso, inciampò sopra il Posto Dove Tutte Le Buone Anime Arrivano Per Riposare.
La Gentesconosciuta bramò i gioielli di queste caverne più di ogni altra cosa,
e presto cominciarono a scavare la montagna, il suo ricco giacimento, alimentando ulteriormente il caos del loro stesso mondo.
Nel frattempo, giù al paese, la Gentefelice dormiva irrequieta, i loro sogni erano invasi da figure oscure che scavavano via alle loro anime.
Ogni giorno, le persone si svegliavano e fissavano la montagna.
Perché gli stava portando oscurità nelle loro vite?
E non appena la Gentesconosciuta estrasse più e più in profondità nella montagna,
dei solchi cominciarono ad apparire, portando con essi un vento freddo e amaro che congelò l’anima stessa della Scimmia.
Per la prima volta, la Gentefelice si sentì impaurita perché sapeva che ben presto la Scimmia si sarebbe svegliata dal suo profondo sonno.
E all’improvviso giunse un suono. All’inizio distante, poi crebbe fino a diventare di così catastrofiche dimensioni che si sarebbe potuto sentire perfino lontano nello spazio.
Non ci fu alcun urlo. Non ci fu tempo.
La montagna chiamata Scimmia aveva parlato.
Ci fu solamente fuoco.
E poi, nient’altro.

O piccola città negli Stati Uniti, è giunto il tempo di aprire gli occhi
Non c’è niente che tu creda di volere
Ma dov’eri, tu, quando tutto si rovesciò su di me?
Mi hai chiamato solamente ora?

You think it will never happen to you, that it cannot happen to you, that you are the only person in the world to whom none of these things will ever happen, and then, one by one, they all begin to happen to you, in the same way they happen to everyone else.

Paul Auster, Winter Journal

(i’ve been all over the place, mostly mentally, for a few months – i hope you’re all dreaming and growing and learning through the world around you. a few days ago i found this book in my mailbox, a beautiful person from a city far far away sent it to me. there are thinks that meet you at the corner of the street right when you need them the most. maybe this book is one of those things. some things happen, and you can never guess. you think you belong to a different dimension altogether, and then some silly little situations claw at your limb and you are incredulous about how human you actually turn out to be etc. my guess is that there is an impossibly big amount of surrealism in what we call reality, though. life happens and keeps happening, and all lives kinda have the same face, and it’s on us to make it a warm, kind, somehow wondrous face. good night.)

Films watched in 2014

JANUARY: Spring Breakers; Il vedovo; Walk the Line; Totò, Peppino e… la malafemmina (Totò, Peppino, and the Hussy); American Hustle; Matrimonio all’italiana (Marriage italian style); On the Waterfront; Let’s Get Lost; Bin-jip (3-Iron); All the President’s Men; Nebraska; The Man who Wasn’t There; 21 Grams; Her; The Iron Lady; Inside Llewyn Davis; Dont Look Back; The Wolf of Wall Street.

18 films, 0.580 per day

FEBRUARY: Non ci resta che piangere (Nothing Else to Do but Cry); Al di là delle nuvole (Beyond the Clouds); Platoon; Everest-50 years on the Mountain; Rashōmon; Lord of the Flies [1963]; Panic Room; Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse.

8 films, 0.285 per day

MARCH: The Last Emperor; Comizi d’amore (Love Meetings); Modigliani; Dreams; Hiroshima mon mmour; Marley; Pietà; Dallas Buyers Club; Blue Velvet; Kill your Darlings; Natural Born Killers; An Education; Der Untergang (Downfall); Neil Young Journeys; Mulholland Dr.

15 films, 0.483 per day

APRIL: Le conseguenze dell’amore (The Consequences of Love); Der Himmel über Berlin (Wings of Desire);  The Grand Budapest Hotel; State buoni se potete; Pink Floyd The Wall.

5 films, 0.166 per day

MAY: After Hours; Adius, Piero Ciampi e altre storie; Stoker; Todo sobre mi madre (All About My Mother); Good Morning, Vietnam; Il caso Mattei (The Mattei Affair); No; The U.S. vs. John Lennon; The Place Beyond the Pines; Fatal Attraction; All Is Lost; Modern Times; L’avventura.

13 films, 0.419 per day

JUNE: Pull my Daisy; A Hard Day’s Night; Una vita difficile (A Difficult Life); Senso; Quando c’era Berlinguer; Young Frankenstein; Donnie Darko [Director’s cut].

7 films, 0.233 per day

JULY: The Third Man; I due fiumi; Alexis Zorba; Saturday Night’s Fever; Fandango; Rush; Gangs of New York; Rescue Dawn.

8 films, 0.285 per day

AUGUST: The Sessions; Nymphomaniac: Vol. I; Dawn of the Planet of the Apes; Mamma Roma; Le notti bianche (White Nights); Il Gattopardo (The leopard); The Great Escape; Un prophète (A prophet); Children of men.

9 films, 0.290 per day

SEPTEMBER: 24 Hour Party People; 25th Hour; Cassandra’s Dream; Ed Wood; The Artist; Il giardino dei Finzi-Contini (The Garden of the Finzi-Continis); Cool Hand Luke; Cinderella Man; Kaze Tachinu (The Wind Rises); Adams Æbler (Adam’s Apples); Signore & signori (The Birds, the Bees, and the Italians).

11 films, 0.366 per day

OCTOBER: Kış Uykusu (Winter Sleep); Rupan Sansei – Kariosutoro no shiro (The Castel of Cagliostro); Kaze no Tani no Naushika (Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind); Majo no Takkyūbin (Kiki’s Delivery Service); Captain Phillips; Prisoners; Das weiße Band – Eine deutsche Kindergeschichte (The White Ribbon); Germania anno zero (Germany, Year Zero); Aguirre, der Zorn Gottes (Aguirre, the Wrath of God); Escape from Alcatraz; Boyhood.

11 films, 0.290 per day

NOVEMBER: The Bling Ring; Che strano chiamarsi Federico; Interstellar; Quel maledetto treno blindato (The Inglorious Bastards); Dead Man; The Departed; Goodbye Bafana; Wadjda; Il medico della mutua (Be Sick… It’s Free); Before Sunrise; The Salt of the Earth.

11 films, 0.366 per day

DECEMBER: A Skin Too Few: The Days of Nick Drake; Mimi o sumaseba (Whisper of the Heart); Ovosodo; La Vénus à la fourrure (Venus in Fur); The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies.

5 films, 0.161 per day

121 films in 365 days. I have to admit I was a bit lazy about films in 2014. Forgive me.

 

Last year I also watched my first TV serie, Twin Peaks (30 episodes, divided in two seasons), created by David Lynch and Mark Frost. And then came the turn of Breaking Bad (62 episodes divided in 5 seasons), created and produced by Vince Gilligan.

Happy New Year to everyone who still beat.

laugh

I laugh to

the unknowing unconsciousness

of the people

who stand all around me

who waste life

thoughts

tears

faster heartbeats

words

for nothing

at all.

Franz Kafka on books

 “Ich glaube, man sollte überhaupt nur solche Bücher lesen, die einen beißen und stechen. Wenn das Buch, das wir lesen, uns nicht mit einem Faustschlag auf den Schädel weckt, wozu lesen wir dann das Buch? Damit es uns glücklich macht, wie Du schreibst? Mein Gott, glücklich wären wir eben auch, wenn wir keine Bücher hätten, und solche Bücher, die uns glücklich machen, könnten wir zur Not selber schreiben. Wir brauchen aber die Bücher, die auf uns wirken wie ein Unglück, das uns sehr schmerzt, wie der Tod eines, den wir lieber hatten als uns, wie wenn wir in Wälder verstoßen würden, von allen Menschen weg, wie ein Selbstmord, ein Buch muß die Axt sein für das gefrorene Meer in uns. Das glaube ich.”


“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound and stab us. If the book we’re reading doesn’t wake us up with a blow on the head, what are we reading it for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea inside us. That is my belief.”



Franz Kafka in a letter to Oskar Pollak, 27th of January 1904

(This is probably my favourite thing anyone has ever said about literature and I wanted to share it with you, dearest readers! The weather has turned cold and sad here where I am living, it is the ideal day to curl up on a warm chair with a cup of whatever yr favourite drink is and a book that makes you grow like a tree.)

hey, Old Man

«Anybody here? Hey, Old Man. You home tonight? Can You spare a minute. It’s about time we had a little talk. I know I’m a pretty evil fellow… killed people in the war and got drunk… and chewed up municipal property and the like. I know I got no call to ask for much… but even so, You’ve got to admit You ain’t dealt me no cards in a long time. It’s beginning to look like You got things fixed so I can’t never win out. Inside, outside, all of them… rules and regulations and bosses. You made me like I am. Now just where am I supposed to fit in? Old Man, I gotta tell You. I started out pretty strong and fast. But it’s beginning to get to me. When does it end? What do You got in mind for me? What do I do now? Right. All right. [Gets on knees, closes eyes and begins to pray] On my knees, asking. [pause] Yeah, that’s what I thought. I guess I’m pretty tough to deal with, huh? A hard case. Yeah. I guess I gotta find my own way.»

from Cool Hand Luke (1967), by Stuart Rosenberg, with Paul Newman and George Kennedy