o fato é que existe um grande número de pessoas no universo que não está apto a realizar tarefas cotidianas como andar de ônibus e falar ao telefone. eles não sabem, gente. podem observar. eles não conseguem. a mulher que ligou para o meu celular agora é um exemplo disso. ela ligou e perguntou:

- vem cá, quem que tá falando????

pra princípio de conversa, vem cá é o meu cu, né? o que aconteceu com o alô? caiu em desuso enquanto eu cochilava das 17:30 às 19? acho que não.
e depois, para mim existe um fato imutável: se é você quem está ligando, você que se identifique. não há negociação quanto a isso.

- com quem a senhora quer falar?
- é que seu número tá no meu celular aqui. tem chamada aqui.

hmmmm. interessante. primeiro que eu nunca havia visto o número na vida. segundo que só uso o celular para falar com duas pessoas: minha mãe e bernardo. minha mãe estava na sala. e bernardo não é um travesti, obrigada senhor.

- olha, não liguei não.
- ligou sim que eu tô vendo aqui. quem é você?
- não, não liguei. eu nem usei o celular hoje.
- então alguém ligou que eu tô vendo aqui que ligou agora. quem é você?
- minha senhora, até 10 minutos atrás eu estava *dormindo*. nao liguei.
- então alguém pegou seu celular enquanto você dormia e ligou. quem que tá falando, hein??????

é isso o que eu chamo de SURTO PROGRESSIVO.

- senhora, eu não liguei, ninguém roubou meu celular, ninguém MEXEU nesse telefone hoje. além do mais, tem outra coisa.
- o quê?

TU  TU  TU  TU  TU

desligo mermo.

mas fiquei curiosa, né? quem é essa maluca que tem meu celular e quer descobrir minha identidade de todas as formas? maluca, identifique-se! queremos saber quem você é!

aí eu acho que vou lançar a campanha dê razão para uma doida reclamar. quem quiser se unir a mim, é só pedir o número nos comentários.

raquel. desde 1982 tentando incutir bom senso na cabeça das pessoas. a golpes de marreta.

Hoy os presento a David J. Skal, un historiador, crítico, guionista, novelista ocasional y productor de documentales especializado en el género de terror. Este señor ha publicado un par de ensayos sobre el género que son de consulta obligada para aficionados de todo pelaje y condición, entre los que un servidor destacaría “Hollywood Gothic” (1990) y “Dark Carnival: The secret world of Tod Browning” (1995) que, incomprensiblemente, continúan inéditos en castellano.

Gracias al excelente criterio editorial de Valdemar, podéis haceros ya con vuestro ejemplar de “Monster Show: Una historia cultural del Horror” (1993), un excelente trabajo de erudición cinéfila y análisis sociológico de más de quinientas páginas, de los que se leen de una sentada y dejan poso de clase magistral. En él, el autor da  un somero repaso a la historia del género a lo largo del siglo XX, al tiempo que se detiene a reflexionar sobre su influencia a través del Arte y el “mass media”, un poco al estilo de Greil Marcus en su indispensable “Rastros de carmín: una historia secreta del siglo XX” (1989), aunque decantándose por un registro más lúdico y anecdótico.

El eje central de su discurso toma como punto de partida el poder metafórico del Terror como representación inconsciente de los traumas y obsesiones de la sociedad, estableciendo interesantísimos paralelismos al respecto. Arranca con la Primera Guerra Mundial y la sensibilidad post-industrial, interrelacionando a Tod Browning, Lon Chaney y Diane Arbus con el apropiacionismo mórbido de los “freak shows” y los “exhibiciones de atrocidades”; el dualismo moral representado por Frankenstein y el Dr. Jekyll y Mr. Hyde, con los monstruos “humanizando” las bajas pasiones y los instintos atávicos en el marco de la Gran Depresión. Skal justifica la proliferación de súcubos y licántropos a raíz de la Segunda Guerra Mundial con la misma convicción con la que solemos asociar las invasiones alienígenas clásicas con el comunismo y la Guerra Fría; incluso apunta hacia la renovada fascinación por el vampirismo en plena era del Sida. Argumentos todos ellos que, por evidentes y sobados que se nos puedan antojar a día de hoy, aborda con innegable acierto y lucidez.

Posiblemente, junto a “Danza macabra” (1981) de Stephen King –también disponible en Valdemar– de lo mejorcito que se ha escrito al respecto. Recomendable es poco.

It's been that way as long as I can remember. Freaky family members attracted other strange people who in turn attracted more weird characters. Birds of a feather really do tend to flock together . And, I take it for granted until somebody points it out. Then, I pause and think and realize that they are absolutely right. And, I take a moment and thank God for each and every psycho, stupid, white trash, or redneck person in my life! I just could not imagine a life without colorful people. Boooorrrrring! Besides, I've have nothing to write about.

Fred is my daughter's neighbor. He reminds me of Rev. Jim on Taxi:

during a written driving test]
"Reverend Jim" Ignatowski: Pssssttt... what does the yellow light mean?
Bobby Wheeler: "Slow down."
"Reverend Jim" Ignatowski: What... does... the... yellow... light... mean?
Bobby Wheeler: "Slow down"!
"Reverend Jim" Ignatowski: Whaaaat... dooooeeees... theeeee... yeeeel-looowwww... liiiiight... meeeeaaan?

Bobby Wheeler: Mental illness or narcotic addiction?
"Reverend Jim" Ignatowski: Now that's a tough choice...

Fred talks slow like that. And, he looks a lot like Jim.....tall and skinny. He has a long poneytail. He is your typical 60's-70's hippie that never left the past. Fred has been diagnosed with severe depression and has been treated with electrical shock treats. Yep, they still do those. But, they will only do it a limited amount of times. Fred has reached his limit. So, Fred has been trying to build his own shock machine and has been trying to enlist the help of friends and neighbors. Hubby is an engineer and was asked by Fred for help. He refused (thank goodness). Whenever I drive past Fred's home, I imagine him sitting in the basement with one of those old metal strainers/collanders on his head. It has many wires coming from it and electrical sparks are shooting all over. Sitting in a chair nearby is Jack Nicholson in character as McMurphy from "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest."McMurphy: [about shock treatments] They was giving me ten thousand watts a day, you know, and I'm hot to trot! The next woman takes me on's gonna light up like a pinball machine and pay off in silver dollars!!"

Saturday, Fred went to visit his elderly father one street over (pay attention, I said ONE street over). He had a friend with him. Upon leaving, he shut and locked his dad's front door. That's when it hit him that he had locked his car keys inside of his dad's house. And, his dad is extremely hard of hearing and cannot hear people ringing the bell or knocking. So, Fred came up with a game plan. He remembered a small window opening into the attic at the top of the house. So, Fred figured that he would shimmy up the front porch by holding onto a trellis, get situated on the roof, and crawl over to the window. Sounded like a good plan to him. He managed most of it.

He got to the very, small window and was trying to slide right in when his plan fell apart. Although, Fred is really skinny and tall, he couldn't quite manage to get more than half of his body thru the window. That's when he got stuck. So, here is was.....half of his body tilted downward toward the floor and half of his body skyward. I can't explain (nor could Fred) how the physics of the situation took control and Fred's lower body half won the contest.

Down, he slid.....from 2 stories. In Fred's own words, he landed with "a sickening thud". Fred's pal called 911 for an ambulance. Poor Fred really got hurt. Broken ribs, bruises, scratches, and bloody places. Fred ended up with a cast, bandages, and crutches.

What's funny about this? Go back to the first part of the story.

"Fred went to visit his elderly father one street over."

He could have walked home and got his wife's keys. He did think of it.....while laying in the ER.

After we were done eating we headed out to walk the park. I thought it was going to be something like Great America, but it was a dump. Food, garbage, and half-broken expensive carnival games were everywhere. I couldn't believe how dirty it was. As we were walking along the street we found the Coney Island Sideshow Freak Show for $5.00 a person, which was the special! George was so excited. I was a little worried it would make fun of people with disabilities so I read what the show would be about before going it. It sounded like it was appropriate because the acts were just people doing weird things with their body, juggling, more circus like things. We ended up going in under pressure from the guy yelling last minute discount. We can admit, we were suckered in, but would it be freakshow if we weren't?

You walk into the place and there was a small stage with an electric chair, human box, knives, etc. The bleachers were made out of wood and the place probably looked the same as it did when it opened. It was basically a five person show, with Donny Vomit as the host. We walked in on Black Scorpion's act, which was horribly boring, none of his jokes were funny. Then came Donny Vomit to juggle for us. George looked at me and said I can't believe we spent $10 on this. I just started laughing, but it actually became the best thing we spent our money on that night.

Next, was Electra who did an electric chair trick. What ever she touched while she was sitting in the chair lit up. George ruined it for me and told me that it was just electricity from the chair being transfered through her body. Donny Vomit came back out and then introduced the next act.

Heather Holiday was another act who could swallow swords. A volunteer even got to pull two swords out of her mouth while bending over. She was quite funny and her second act was sitting in a box while Donny Vomit put blades all through the box every which way. After the blades were set Donny told us we could come see her through the top of the box at a price of a dollar a person. We were suckered in again and did it anyway and she was just in the shape of an L, what a rip off. But again, would it be a real freakshow if they didn't charge after you already paid?

After that, Serpintina (who bared a stunning resemblance to Electra) provocatively danced with a huge yellow snake. You could tell the mom in the front with little boys was a little uncomfortable (Family Show?). I have to say this act was the creepiest of them all.

One of the last acts we saw was done by Donny Vomit and I guess this act is the reason he got his name. First he took a long thick six inch nail and hammered it up his nose. And he would pull it out and do again. Then he took an electric drill just as long as the nail and put it up his nose. When he pulled it out there was blood and buggers all over it. As he licked the drill I began to gag so badly I actually taught I was going to throw up. My stomach didn't feel good by the time we left the show. Overall, we were pleasantly pleased with how the show turned out. It was enjoyable and we'll never forget it.

Next we wanted to go look for the famous roller coaster the Cyclone. Once we found it, we learned it was $8 a person for one ride. I couldn't believe it. The last thing we wanted to do was take a walk on the beach. George preferred the boardwalk, but I made him walk with me on the shoreline anyways. It must have been the dirtiest beach we've ever been on. Imagine a beach full of seashells but instead of seashells they were glass and garbage. We walked for a while until I decided to climb the boulders sticking out on the ocean. I got pretty far out and on my way back I put my hand in a pile of fresh warm bird poo. I started gaging like Melissa would at camp when she had to mix up the ground beef in the kitchen. I usually don't have this horrible of a gag reflex but with the train ride, drill snot, and bird poo my stomach just couldn't handle it.

We headed back towards the train and there were all these little stands along the way of food, games, whatever you could think of. There was even a stand called, "Shoot the Freak" where a high school kid ran around while people were shooting paint balls at him. George said it was just like boys camp except at camp the freak was Paul in the monster suit. The one girl we watched didn't hit him after five shots. Once we got back on the subway we were exhausted.

-Michelle and George the Suckers

Covered in smeared clown make-up, I sat on the roof of a warehouse & watched the sun come up on the first day of summer with a freak show. Drinking beer & telling circus stories (like the time Lobster Girl was bit by a monkey). & they sat around with their violins & flutes & accordions, playing the most creepy & magical music anyone has ever heard. I wondered through the massive co-op that was laid out like a maze & observed others playing with lassoes & silks & practicing their prat-falls. Clown crushes & sea shanty sing alongs & slide of the hand tricks shared.

Take me with you, 999 Eyes....I'm not meant to live in this normie world.

God damn. This website has really fallen into bad shape. I've got months of photos to edit & upload. Maybe about three years of sketchbooks & comissions to scan & put up... Lots of new writing too. It's not a matter of being lazy, I'd just rather run the streets & love me some life.

He's free. He got away with it was proven innocent! In light of this surprise verdict, let me share a new R.Kelly joint with ya'll! "Freak Show" [interesting title non?] was sent to me a while ago, but to be honest, I didn't know if it was totally appropriate to post new music while the man was on trial...

R.Kelly - "Freak Show"

I haven't really been that interested in anything R.Kelly has brought out over the past few years (yes, including "Ignition"!) and so, it's not surprising that this hasn't really got me too excited either. Eh, you Pied Piper fans will enjoy!

Peace, Love & Fuckeries!

SpeakerBox

Much love to CJay Music for this...

Passou-se na ida para a Baixa. Estava muito bem no metro, quando olho para a outra carruagem e vejo um homem agarrado a um daqueles postes que lá estão para nos segurarmos, mas ele não estava propriamente a segurar-se...

Estava ... a fazer uma dança ou alguma coisa do género! A sério! Ele devia pensar que aquilo era um varão e estava lá a dançar!

Mas depois ele saiu e lá se acabou o freak show... :D

(e nada me irrita mais do que pessoas que vão ao show da amy winehouse e ficam putinhas porque ela está louca das calcinhas e se comportando como... amy winehouse. é gostar muito de reclamar. nem eu que sou eu faço isso.) ]]> http://motelbarato.wordpress.com/2008/05/24/14/ Sat, 24 May 2008 17:11:00 +0000 raquel. http://motelbarato.wordpress.com/2008/05/24/14/ sabe aquele post que eu reabsorvi e deixei em formato de rascunho pra não ferir os sentimentos alheios? aquele... ai gente, tô com uma preguiiiissa de explicar, se virem. enfim. botei de novo na roda.

[wpvideo AAACtsvx]

Posted by Todd

o estronho do dia de hoje era aquele tipo que está ficando careca e não se conforma. aí deixa crescer os tufos de cabelo que restam, gerando composições esquisitas e totalmente erradas. essa pessoa tinha um topetinho ondulado crescendo da lateral para o meio da testa e demonstrava um zelo absurdo por aquela meia dúzia de fios. toda vez que o ônibus fazia uma curva ele alisava de maneira compulsiva o tufinho, como se temesse perdê-lo no meio da linha vermelha. toc, sabe? e como eu sou um espírito das trevas, comecei a sentir uma vontade insustentável de assoprar o tufo. se eu conseguisse assoprar aquele tufo seria uma pessoa mais feliz. juro. mas aí o maluco do tufo desembarcou. no centro de tecnologia. com a mão na testa.

me tira tudo e qualquer coisa boa, me impõe um misto de desespero e exaustão...

ao passar do tempo a sensação nauseante vai se dissipanto ficando só o medo, que tem um pingo de piedade, e lentamente vai conduzindo essa tão violentada alma ao sono. os sonhos devido a sua composição não é nenhuma surpresa, a voz não sai, o andar não anda, tudo me empurra e de alguma forma agride. tudo se apaga. doce escuridão.

virando e revirando as poucas horas de sono dão a sensação de serem apenas ralos minutos, o dia se anúncia com os primeiros ruídos que causam pânico, de primeira não abro o olho na vontade de não ser acometido pelas aflições que noites assim nos dão de cortesia, inútil. o pensamento é inundado de solidão. me levanto com mil coisas em mente, na maioria medos que são evitados, trazendo inconvenientes respostas de sopetão, mais uma dose de angústia, as respostas são as mais pessimistas possíveis, encostam o meu rosto no chão e me fazem gritar pinico. realidade distorcida e certeira.

medos, mortes, inseguranças, vaidade, mentiras, verdades... corre porque você tá quase atrasado e tem muito o que aprender e fazer. bom dia (#).

Through personal interviews and video clips from various performances, the episode explored the unique lives of the freak show troupe 999 Eyes, Jennifer Miller The Bearded Lady, and Katzen The Tiger Lady. *999 Eyes is actually the last group of performing artists that uses the term “freak”, which is not surprising since freak shows are currently outlawed in a number of states.**Michigan’s statute, for example, states the following: “Exhibition of deformed human beings, etc.—Any physician or other person, who shall expose or keep on exhibition any deformed human being or human monstrosity, except as used for scientific purposes before members of the medical profession or medical classes, shall be guilty of a misdemeanor.” In light of these regulations, it is interesting that industries such as modeling, which embrace the opposite extreme and exhibit the product of genetic perfection, are quite acceptable. In fact, one of the female members of 999 Eyes stated that she felt her participation in these freak shows caused her to be physically exploited to the same extent as any other person in the performing arts. Essentially, everyone working in the performing arts profession profits from serving as visual entertainment for a curious audience. The following question then arises: is there truly that much of a difference between displaying genetic errors and genetic excellence and if not, why is one allowed but not the other?

Clearly, a major reason for outlawing the exhibition of genetic errors is to avoid unfortunate circumstances like the 69er’s Club in Middlesex. For the members of 999 Eyes, however, the opportunity to travel around the country with people sharing similar life challenges has enabled them to develop both a sense of community and personal strength. For them, displaying their deformities to a crowd of strangers on stage essentially serves as a profitable way to practice being comfortable displaying their deformities in everyday life. While I found this aspect to be inspirational, I still found myself agreeing with Michigan’s statute. It appears that the negative preconceptions associated with the idea of a freak show ultimately override complete freedom of expression in some states. Specifically, the association with the eugenic movement adds to the negative connotation of the freak show. Additionally, events described by the terms ‘freak show’ or ‘sideshow’ imply that human oddities will be exhibited in a disturbing or distasteful manner that emphasize the deformity rather than the talent or unique ability. For example, in the “Sideshow Gals” episode, when advertising for their upcoming performance, 999 Eyes members prefaced every conversation with a potential customer with something similar to the following: there is no vulgarity or nudity in our show, so it is child-friendly. The modern focus on purely strict, clinical curiosity coupled with all of the historical baggage the term ‘freak show’ carries makes the presence of statutes similar to Michigan’s are understandable. Although I am finding difficulty pinpointing the reason that female member of 999 Eyes would not be any more exploited than models or other similar performers, there is still something unsettling about willfully displaying physical proof of genetic errors.

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freak_show

**http://www.legislature.mi.gov/(S(ryz2rv555add5fzmik4owa55))/mileg.aspx?page=getObject&objectName=mcl-750-347

And for those who are interested, this episode airs again during the following times on We TV:

Tuesday, April 15, 11:00 PM ET
Wednesday, April 16, 2:00 AM ET

-Miriah Martin

Il paraît qu'un éléphant, ça trompe énormément. On aurait alors pu croire au désenchantement (le mien, of course). Et puis non.
Au risque de me répéter, je choisis aujourd'hui de vous parler d'un sujet qui m'émoustille et me fait frétiller au plus haut. Sujet moult fois abordé, au risque d'être même un peu lourde parfois... Mais il paraît également que ça a du bon de répéter et ressasser les choses. Que ça les fait entrer dans la caboche. Et j'ai bon espoir d'arriver jusqu'à ton insconscient. Je vise l'insconscient collectif. Parce qu'un soir de festival rock alternatif à l'Olympic de Nantes (voir la photo "comment ne pas se garer"), j'avais souffert de faire partie de la (trop) rare demi-douzaine de fan(e)s - excitées - en furie devant les dieux vivants du rock (si je veux j'exagère, j'expose mon ressenti personnel, ça ne t'engage pas par les liens du mariage à moi - ouf) que sont les Married Monk. Alors depuis d'essaie de faire en sorte que ça n'arrive plus. Et je prie secrètement pour les revoir en concert. Et d'hurler à la lune.

Je ne vais peut-être pas jusqu'à aller vous faire à nouveau la biographie du groupe. L'important, c'est la sortie de ce nouveau CD tant attendu (depuis 4 ans tout de même).
Si vous n'êtes pas satisfaits (vous auriez totalement raison) et avez raté quelques épisodes, je vous propose de compulser frénétiquement les liens suivants : le site officiel du groupe (non actualisé depuis 2006, mais c'est chouette quand même), l'article Wikipédia, et enfin leur MySpace. Si cela ne vous satisfait toujours pas (bande d'insatisfaits), je vous invite à faire une recherche personnelle. Oui. Ou pas.

Maintenant que j'ai bien abusé sur l'introduction, je vais donc vous donner mon sentiment.
Si à une époque j'étais tombée amoureuse de R/O/C/K/Y. Si par la suite j'avais adoré The Belgian Kick puis découvert l'oreille enflammée The Jim Side... Et bien je dois avouer que je suis tombée en pâmoison devant ce dernier album.
Je n'ai malheureusement pas encore eu entre les mains ce dernier bijou, mais mes oreilles ne sont pas gênées et je devrais bientôt être satisfaite puisqu'un colis devrait achever l'attente d'ici quelques semaines.

The Married Monk intervient là où on ne l'attend pas. Dans un décalage qui peut faire sourire parfois, mais d'une efficacité fracassante. Les mélodies sont balancées entre une pop un peu rétro, un rock pétillant jusqu'à l'alternatif, un jazz tempéré... Un peu de tout, mais surtout pas n'importe quoi. [Là forcément si je te dis que Vincent Mc Doom participe à l'album, tu auras des doutes. Et tu aurais tort. Vraiment. Mais je te comprends.]

Et ce nouvel opus a cela d'original qu'il s'agit en fait de tout un concept... (quelques images).

La voix de Christian Quermalet, quasi orgasmique, les paroles franchement acidulées et osées, un univers totalement décomplexé et déjanté qui me ravit au plus haut... En bref, de quoi passer en toute insouciance de longues soirées d'hiver, d'épicer les escapades printanières, promettant de merveilleuses endiablades estivales et une assistance médicale d'automne.

J'aime. J'aime. J'aime !
Pas vous ? Ah bon !

Rechicero, de Terry Pratchet

En première partie, 65 Days of Static, un groupe anglais de post rock noisy à la limite du post core, ça envoie le boulet et ça joue fort. De petits problêmes de son au début du set ne mettent pas en valeur leurs compositions. Ce n'est pas au niveau de Mogwai ou de Godspeed You Black Emperor mais il y a du talent à revendre. Je les rapprocherais plutôt de Cult of Luna, bien que leurs versions studios soient plus calmes qu'en live, Bercy blindé ça vous galvanise une bande de jeunes, normal!!!!

20h30, explosion de joie, le beau Jason Cooper s'installe derrière ses fûts, on peine à reconnaitre Porl tant son nouveau look est comment dire...spécial...puis c'est du délire quand Robert et Simon entrent en scène. Presque aussitôt tintent les clochettes de Plainsong, le public retient religieusement son souffle, l'instant est magique. Robert attaque le chant d'une voix forte et assurée qu'il va garder pendant 3h30 sans faux pas. Il a encore progressé c'est hallucinant le coffre qu'il a ce mec.

La setlist : Plainsong, Prayers For Rain, A Strange Day, alt.end, The Walk, The End of the World, Lovesong, To Wish Impossible Things, Pictures of You, Lullaby, From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea, Kyoto Song, Please Project, Push, How Beautiful You Are, Friday I'm in Love, Inbetween Days, Just Like Heaven, Primary, A Boy I Never Knew, Shake Dog Shake, Never Enough, Wrong Number, One Hundred Years, Disintegration
Rappel 1: At Night, M, Play For Today, A Forest
Rappel 2: The Lovecats, Let's Go to Bed, Freak Show, Close to Me, Why Can't I Be You?
Rappel 3: Three Imaginary Boys, Fire in Cairo, Boys Don't Cry, Jumping Someone Else's Train, Grinding Halt, 10:15 Saturday Night, Killing an Arab
4ème rappel : Faith !!

Bon je ne vais pas refaire le concert ici mais il y a plusieurs éléments importants à signaler :

Le line up actuel de The Cure n'incluait pas de clavier puisque Roger O'Donnell est parti il y a 2 ans et n'a pas été remplacé. Perry Bamonte a été remplacé par Porl Thompson, le vieux pote de Robert (et aussi son beauf !) qui fait des apparitions ponctuelles dans le groupe depuis 78 et l'époque Easy Cure. Le plus ancien guitariste de Cure mais aussi le plus talentueux, moins rock que Perry mais plus fin et inventif. Il a donc assuré les solos brillament et pallié par des lignes de guitares bien senties l'absence des claviers. The Cure sans claviers, c'était la grande inconnue de cette tournée, le challenge est relevé haut la main même si certains "curistes" sont sceptiques sur la version de "Close to me" avec des samples de claviers en boucles bof bof. Mais ça ne fait qu'une chanson, sur 42 réussies! On regrettera peut être aussi la faiblesse du volume sonore de sa guitare mixée en retrait par rapport à la basse de Simon mais au vu du talent de ce dernier, on ne fera pas la fine bouche.

Trois nouveaux morceaux ont été testés, A Boy I never knew ; Please Project; Freak show ; ils augurent bien du nouvel album, le 13ème huh huh. L'influence de Porl s'y fait sentir, on revient probablement au son époque Disintegration-Wish.

Le groupe s'est bien amusé, on a vu un Robert heureux, joueur et toujours très cabot, ça fait plaisir de le voir s'amuser avec le public, réaliser quelques entrechats patauds dont il a le secret, faire des parties de cache cache avec les caméras ou avec Simon. Voila un groupe qui donne et redonne de lui même, 3h30 de live, des nouveautés, des titres réorchestrés, des voix retravaillées et de l'émotion non feinte, chapeau au bout de 30 ans de carrière ! Respect !

Robert est parfois maladroit mais ce soir là, il a bien joué, très peu de déchets dans son jeu de guitare, on le sentait à l'aise, épaulé du Porl de compétition! Quant au chant, il a étonné son public, pourtant connaisseur, sa voix est plus solide, puissante que jamais. Il a gagné en aisance, on sent bien le boulot derrière, là aussi respect, tenir 3h30 à ce niveau, à 49 balais! Pour être impartial, on signalera l'oubli d'un couplet sur Lullaby, eh oui pas de prompteurs chez Robert, ça change des vieilles gloires du rock français ;-) Un ratage également sur son solo de Killing an arab qui lui a, parait-il fait lâcher quelques jurons, faut dire que la version était volcanique tout comme le public.

Autre chose, les enchainements, certains ont été dantesques ! Notamment l'enchainement pop "Friday-In between days-Just like heaven" et surtout la terrifiante combinaison "One Hundred Years-Disintegration" qui restera sans doute"le" grand moment live de ma vie !

Deux pics d'intensité également à signaler, l'excellente version de "At the edge of a deep green sea" et bien évidemment l'inattendu 4ème rappel, le glacial "Faith" dans une ambiance de cathédrale, la grande messe noire qui a scotché tout le monde, conclusion idéale à un live d'anthologie. J'ajoute que contrairement aux dépêches AFP reprises partout et même sur les sites style France2.fr, Faith a déjà été jouée bon nombre de fois sur scène, la preuve dans le dvd Cure Festival 2005...et toc ! Quant à Libé, nous pouvons également les casser sur la vieille photo accompagnant l'article annonçant le concert. Ce Libé du mercredi 12 mars montre en effet l' ancienne formation du groupe pffffff....

Il y aura selon des sources bien informées, un dvd du concert ce que semblaient confirmer les caméras qui virevoltaient partout, cela explique peut être les vitupérations du Bob sur son crash pendant Killing an Arab!

Site officiel : http://www.thecure.com/

Le forum des "curistes" : http://www.apinkdream.org/index.php

Les "Curiosités" : http://www.curiosity.de/

Chain of flowers : http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/chainofflowers/

Allez, une petite nouveauté pour la route, parce que vous vous êtes tapés le plus long post de ce blog ....

"Sir Jeffrey was born in England in 1619."

At eighteen inches tall he was thirty years of age.

His exploits were legendary:

He was baked cold into a pie by the Duke of Buckingham to jump out and surprise Queen Henrietta. He served as Captain of the Horse Charle's the First's court. He was captured by Dutch privateers on a journey to France, but was released.

He fought a turkey and almost died before being saved from its claws. He nearly drowned in a wash basin, but was rescued by someone over eight feet tall. Presumably to give us such a strange scene to imagine. He once challenged a full sized man to a duel, and demanded to be taken seriously. The villain arrived with water pistols. Infuriated, our eighteen inch hero challenged him again and demanded again to be taken seriously. They fought with pistols on horseback, Sir Jeffrey killing him outright.

Imprisoned for murder, he was pardoned by the Queen of England and become her most valiant defender. He was captured by Turks, and sold into slavery. He was ransomed, and returned to England. Suddenly he grew to three feet nine inches.

He lived happily on a pension until he was implicated in a Popish plot, and jailed where he died at 63. Most of all, he served as an inspiration to this mysterious Charles Sutton.

Charles was to become Tom Thumb, or in his full title: General Tom Thumb. He was of course named after the earlier character from literature and folklore, but he walked the earth as you or I. His adventures are even more beguiling, but I know you will pursue them on your own...