No name

Today is one of those days. You know; one of those where you think about how fucked up the world is and how many people that have fucked you over that you wish you could shoot in the head. Or then again...maybe you don't know. Anyway. Usually this would mean I'd post an appropriate Manson song, but today, no one says it better than Diamanda Gálas. Althought he song is originally about cheating on someone, the anger of it ort of mirrors what I feel for the world today. And all of you who usually go "you know, it takes more energy to frown than it does to smile" or "it was a long time ago, let it go -forgive and forget": spare me your holier-than-thou Dalai Lama attitude. Thanks.

This is for everyone who have ever called me ugly. Fast forward to 0:25 and enjoy.

Antichrist

I absolutely cannot wait for this movie...the reviews from the film festivals are mostly good so far -some people booed when it was shown and I like where that is going. Means it's most likely provocative, at least to some people. After finding out that Lars Von Trier wrote the script for it after a severe clinical depression that left him physically incapable of levaing his bed for three months where he did nothing but stare into the wall...makes me think this is going to be absolutely friggin amazing. Really dark and psychologically haunting, just the way I like it. Having said that though...the trailer sucks:



The only thing that looks slightly promising and provocative is this:



So I'm just going to decide that they were a bit unlucky with making the trailer and that the movie will be nothing like it. Please God.

Found it ;o)

It's shaky as hell (and not filmed by me) but this is what it looked like.

For the memories...

Exactly one year ago I was outside the luxurious Four Seasons George V hotel in Paris, waiting for...Céline. We had met up Fanny and Darryl a few minutes before as Fanny had said that Céline usually leaves around three in the afternoon on the day of a show. There were already loads of fans there (I'm guessing about a hundred people or so) and people were climbing the trees to get a better look. We were repeatedly told that there was to be no crying or screaming, or she would not come out. And about an hour and a half later...it was time. I saw the police gathering around the car she'd be leaving in and her body guard coming out - a clear sign that she was on the way. She stayed for about five minutes (which feels so long when you actually have her in front of you) and people keptcalling out to get her attention as she smiled and signed things. Unfortunately, someone fainted after she left but she was well looked after so I think she was fine in the end. There was a video on YouTube but I can't find it now...will have a look. I've been listening a lot to "Je Ne Vous Oublie Pas" tonight - "I Will Never Forget You". It was a song written for Céline that describes her love for her francophone fans; her very first ones who were there in the beginning of her career and the ones she has today. The lyrics are really beautiful and I'm really nostalgic right now. And yes...close to crying. I get emotional that way. I'm off for a stroll down Memory Lane. :)



"In my absences, maybe
I could have gone away
As if I had got lost on my road
As If I had changed

So I have some tender words
Just to tell you this:

I don't forget you...no, never
You are deep within me
In my life, in everything I do
My first love, my first dreams
came with you
It's our story of our own

I don't forget you...no, never
You know so much about me
Of my life, of what I do of it
So my happiness and my sorrows;
I share them with you
It's our story of our own
I don't forget you

Because time can encage
all our dreams and wills
I take my decisions and travel
And sometimes I pay the price for it
Life smiles at me or wounds me
But whatever my life is...

I don't forget you...no, never
You are deep within me
In my life, in everything I do
My first love, my first dreams
came with you
It's our love story

Even to the other side of the globe
My story continues with you...


I don't forget you
No, never
You know so much about me
Of my life and what I do about it

So my happiness and my sorrows I share them with you
It's our story of our own
I don't forget you
I don't forget...you

Corporate Invasion

I love spending time at worth1000.com and after browsing through a section titled "Corporate Invasion", I came across the pictures below. The thought behind them is obvious and I thought they state a lot about where we're headed.

Again, religion....

This is an exerpt of a short letter written to the editor of an American newspaper, regarding an article it recently printed:

"Second, the Roman Catholic Church doesn’t now, nor has it ever offered a wafer and wine as Communion. We do offer the body and blood of Jesus Christ, which in John’s gospel he proclaims to be our source of life in Him. To refer to the Eucharist as a wafer and wine is to demean the value of this sacrament, seemingly equating it to an evening snack.

I suggest that Mr. Kush apologize for his lack of respect to Bishop Reilly and the faith of the Roman Catholic Church.

Rev. PAUL M. LaPALME

Millbury "

I see. So the press describing it the Catholic way (saying that every Sunday, people gather together at a fixed location to feast on someone's flesh and drink their blood hence believing they will come to heaven through it) would be better? If I claimed to believe that about consuming anyone in general, I'd get sent to jail and spend the rest of my life in a psychiatric ward. But yet again, everything's excused as long as you do it in the name of religion. Why is it that someone's religion is seen as something that automatically deserves respect from everybody else; more respect than any other matters out there? To us sane people; it is just a wafer.

Also, it seems that yet another woman (why is it always women in their mid-fourties?) has seen God in her breakfast.

Ahh, religion.

The high end of low

"I gave myself 158 scars in one day. It was me trying to prove a point to someone – myself. It wasn’t like my years in the past of self-mutilation; something to be hidden or a type of compulsion. This was more like tattoos, 158 things that happened that day and I wanted to remind myself."

And you wonder why I can't wait for this album. Roll on May 27th.