28 október 2009

Ein skýr skilaboð

Þetta finnst mér æðislegt. Tekið af sfgate.com: Ríkisstjórinn Arnold neitar að skrifa undir einhvern hlut og sendir þetta skeyti tilbaka:



...

-b.

21 október 2009

Fín stutt grein um Vonnegut

Among many other things, "Slaughterhouse-Five" is a book about the difficulties of trying to write "Slaughterhouse-Five." Vonnegut, being Vonnegut, was determined to make the result as easy as eating ice cream. He was always on the reader's side, a stance that, as his career went along through many books, some excellent ("Breakfast of Champions," "Galapagos"), others fractured and not-so-good ("Deadeye Dick," "Timequake"), made him easy meat for critics while being admired and adopted by the many practicing writers who have proclaimed his influence, among them Irving, Jonathan Safran-Foer and Haruki Murakami.

Kján



Af einhverjum myndakorki á Cracked.

13 október 2009

Props

___________

Mr. Ward Cleaver
485 Mapleton Drive
Mayfield, State

My Dear Mr. Cleaver:

This paragraph has absolutely nothing to do with anything.
It is here merely to fill up space. Still, it is words,
rather than repeated letters, since the latter might not
give the proper appearance, namely, that of an actual note.

For that matter, all of this is nonsense, and the only
part of this that is to be read is the last paragraph,
which part is the inspired creation of the producers of
this very fine series.

Another paragraph of stuff. Now is the time for all good
men to come to the aid of their party. The quick brown
fox jumps over the lazy dog. My typing is lousy, but the
typewriter isn’t so hot either. After all, why should I
take the blame for these mechanical imperfections, with
which all of us must contend. Lew Burdette just hit a
home run and Milwaukee leads seven to one in the series.
This is the last line of the filler material of the note.
No, my mistake, that was only the next to last. This is last.

I hope you can find a suitable explanation for Theodore’s
unusual conduct.

Yours truly,

(Signed)

Cornelia Rayburn


_________________

Tekið héðan, bloggið Letters of Note.

-b.

08 október 2009

Aðeins úr sink vídjó dagsins



Ég held ég hafi aldrei heyrt síðasta lagið á disknum fyrren fyrst núna um daginn. Journey! Nemahvað?

-b.

Haninn og hneggið

Ritstjóri Morgunblaðsins gerir grín að bloggurum, sem rífast og skammast yfir engu en hafa sem betur fer engin alvöru áhrif á almenna umræðu eða lífið í landinu. Það er semsé fyrri helmingur pistilsins. Seinni helmingurinn er þessi klisjuhlaðna grein um skemmtikrafta sem öllum er sama um, sem er svo banal og bitlaus að hún gæti eins hafa runnið úr máðu lyklaborði Stefáns Friðriks Stefánssonar, erkimyndar hins skoðanalausa bloggara. Sjá:

Spaugstofumenn sjónvarpsins eru snillingsmenni sem létta mönnum lund vikulega á vetrum, þegar þörfin er mest, líka þeim sem helst verða fyrir barðinu á þeim. Ómar Ragnarsson er sem skemmtikraftur óborganlegur og úthaldið, þrekið og „nefið“ fyrir hinu spaugilega engu líkt. Laddi á sjötugsaldri er afburðaeintak og það er rétt hjá „Magnúsi“ að það er náttúrlega bilun að hann skuli ekki fyrir löngu orðinn heimsfrægur. Söngfuglinn Ragnar Bjarnason er nýorðinn 75 ára og hefur í meira en hálfa öld átt hvert það bein þjóðarlíkamans, sem getur dillað sér. Það er ótrúlegt hverju sá maður kemur í verk með hangandi hendi. Þessir menn eru eingöngu valdir af handahófi úr hópi gleðigjafanna góðu. En síðastur skal nefndur maður, sem Morgunblaðið sagði frá á dögunum að væri að koma heim aftur með nýtt hjarta, Jóhannes eftirherma Kristjánsson. Öll sætin á sagaklass hefðu ekki dugað fyrir þær persónur sem sá maður getur brugðið sér í. Við þökkum gleðigjöfunum, nefndum og ónefndum, og teljum við hæfi að segja að við fögnum hjartanlega heimkomu Jóhannesar Kristjánssonar og allra hans fjölmörgu fylginauta.

- Leiðari Moggans, sunnudaginn 4. október sl.

Það er líklega ekkert öruggara fyrir gamlan og þreyttan álitsgjafa en að mæla með grínistum, sem eru sjálfir orðnir svo gamlir og þreyttir að enginn nennir að mæla gegn þeim lengur. En það er eitthvað pínu sorglegt við að sjá þennan sama gamla mann farinn að herma eftir páfagaukunum sínum, inná milli þess sem hann æpir og skammast yfir því hvað þeir hafa hátt.

-b.

The sharp Mitchum ear..



Surprised that Robert Mitchum sings Calypso? It would be stranger if he couldn't. Fact is, he was learning the fascinating language of Calypso long before it became the rage in the U.S.A. And he was learning it in its true home, Trinidad.

Deep down, Robert Mitchum is a wanderer, and he probably would have got to Trinidad anyway, but actually it was Hollywood that sent him there, "on location" for two feature films... to Port of Spain, a colorful and sunlit place where people have come from many corners of the earth, mingling accents and spilling out their hearts in a unique musical idiom called Calypso.

In Trinidad, the sharp Mitchum ear was quick to hear the subtle coloration of word and melody that gives this native song its special sound. And, expert mimic that he is, he was quick to give it voice, in every characteristic detail.

For ten months of the kind he likes best, Mitchum followed his Calypso trail, listening acutely to local champions like Lord Melody and Mighty Sparrow, memorizing newer and more intricate lyrics in some small native bistro, absorbing the rhythmic excitement of such festivities as the great annual Jump Up Carnival.

Returning to the States, he was happy enough merely to spread the gospel of the Calypso style among the entertainment fraternity. But show-wise listeners soon recognized the quality of the Mitchum demonstrations, and insisted Bob record the songs himself.

The result: this album.

Not all the songs he sings here are absolutely as he first heard them (the censor wouldn't stand for it). A couple of the tunes are already well known; a couple are even newly written for the occasion. But every one has the authentic flavor, the beat and the vitality of the real Caribbean thing. All are products of great talent and great enthusiasm. Calypso, Robert Mitchum says with considerable authority, is like so...