"come on, come on, come on, baby / te digo con disimulo"
Right, so,
burkean, polymath extraordinaire, found this extraordinarily cool website that lets you keep track of the metros 'pon which you've traveled.
Got at b3co.com!
I'm terrifically pleased with the site, and fairly impressed with the extensiveness of its contents; it was missing a couple, though, so I had to take the liberty of altering them slightly so as to accommodate all of mine, and even now I have a weird feeling that I've forgotten a few. But, that, and Kontroll, make me want to chalk up as many metros as possible, and during the next year I'd definitely like to add a couple eastern European ones to my list [read: Claire, let's go to Budapest].
Speaking of which, I'm also dying to go to Vienna. I'd been panging for it ever since I saw Amadeus, and it only got worse after reading a rather long biography of Marie Antoinette (they went on for ages about her upbringing in Schönbrunn Palace), and this in turn was aggravated by seeing / reading The Third Man and digesting Prater Violet ("minor" Isherwood, hahaha), and finally it's gotten to an all-consuming yearning accentuated after last night's screening of Before Sunset, which was awesome.
Initially, I found Ethan Hawke's character kind of obnoxious, and I absolutely hated how he basically totally ruined the moment in the Ferris Wheel, but afterwards it only kept getting better, and the exposition really changed my opinion, and, wow, by the end I kind of didn't want the movie to end because, egads, it reminded of me of totally similar situations I've had and it made me enormously happy. I thrills my heart and drives it into rapture that I've done what is depicted in that movie before, and that I'll be able to do it in the future, and that European capitals, which should be adored and poured over and studied as if they were the Rosetta Stone...seem to be also perfectly content to serve as only a beautiful backdrop, where the splendors of architecture and history are minimalized to the point of being an enormous soundstage that seems to have been arranged specifically for the convenience of an incredibly good conversation, or a romantic walk, or other more intimate glorious things, and so a city that has seen the acts of belligerent men and pompous politics and epic occurrences for centuries on end can also play witness to the quiet pleasures of intimacy before a window that opens onto an ancient street, and quietly acknowledge and bless events that won't be recorded in any schoolbook but will be present until time unmemorable in the pages of the secret lives of us. I am glad I have had those opportunities, and I am equally glad that I have taken them, when I could have just as easily declined; it is indeed a funny thing that a single word could easily change our collective destinies in remarkably radical ways, and an otherwise memorable experience can become nothing short of unforgettable by the boldness of a single phrase.
Right, so I really enjoyed it, and liked how it reminded me of conversations I've had, and absolutely loved an observation that was made in the pool hall, about which I'll talk another time, because otherwise it will seem like I'm addressing something in particular ;), and yes, I've already sent for Before Sunrise, and hurrah.
And I realize that, theoretically, one should make an effort to be patriotic, and therefore I really should be touting one of my partial-national-affiliations and proclaiming the glory of Spain but, egads, I really don't believe in nationalism, and therefore I have absolutely no problem cursing the name of Juan de la Cierva for having invented the helicopter, because several of those damned things have been whizzing about directly above my house, on account of the fire down the street, and bugger-it-all I really do think that it is an epically idiotic invention though, let's be honest, Spain hasn't really invented anything epically important since the Age of Discovery, I mean, really, in the past century what has the nation come up with? (Whoosh, that was a long sentence.) Two types of submarines and foosball. Not terrifically impressive. And then there's this idiotic machine which, fine, might be useful in some instances, but if that damned fool de la Cierva had not bothered with it I wouldn't still have whizzing in my ears and so, damn him.
Fun fact: I had a huge crush on a descendant of de la Cierva's, who was one of my peers at the University of Navarre the year before last.
Ha. I got an e-mail from Luise this morning, and Karol Leiva just called me. It's like the summer of girls I left behind. How...oddly retrospective.
Quick things, because Madeleine will be flustered if she gets here and I'm in some eclectic state of nudity (as is the norm), and so I must rush and shower and dress:
- I've been painting alot, ALOT, this week, and that's been great, especially because some of it has been during the otherwise long hours of the mid-day, and some of it has been in the latest darkest night, accompanied by the music of the 1920's, which is amusing.
- Work, meanwhile, follows a strict soundtrack of samba, bossa nova, world lounge, acid jazz, acid funk, and some indie rock, and that's all grand as well, and I think I really like Brazilian, but only when it is set to music.
- I've also been watching alot of a really fantastic Australian show called The Chaser's War on Everything, and if you can manage it you should look it up and watch whatever you can see of it (Claire especially).
And two limited, but particularly amusing quotes:
"That, and I ran out of rupees on my cell phone and it cut out on him."
- Nedelman, on the curiosities
surrounding phone break ups
conducted when the people
involved are halfway around
the world from each other.
"Why do I love France? An easy answer to this is "I don't, at all, not even remotely."
- Random blogger I ran into.
"Right, Rocio called and said that Xabi's all set for the flight, you have a letter waiting for you on the desk, I already went ahead and ordered dinner, and I want to go to Vienna. Just throwing that out there."
"Where?"
"Vienna."
"Oh, okay. But wait, and go from Spain, though."
"Well, of course - I didn't mean that I wanted to go right this second."
"Oh, ok. Right. Ok, no problem."
- Conversation avec ma mère, who is awesome.
Woof, kids!