No Surprises

Radiohead, OK Computer (Parlophone, 1997).


We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Rushmore

Wes Anderson (American Empirical Pictures, 1998).

Right?

Dias Úteis

s/titulo (marta sentada) 2008 por Catarina Botelho.

Hoje mandei-te uma mensagem às 15:25 que tinha a ver com isto.

the timid proud one

Ben Pier.

Tenho um ódio especial reservado para estes que fazem tudo parecer fácil. Porque deles é o reino dos céus.

Les Feuilles Mortes

Yves Montand, via William Hereford. Cozinhar o jantar é importante, segundo me dizem.

Suspended Sculptures

Damian Ortega via Kitsune Noir.

the points of intersection between architecture, sculpture, and spatial analysis.

Pink Steam

Sonic Youth, Rather Ripped (Geffen/Interscope, 2006).

Gorgeously windswept and violently romantic.

Candidate

Joy Division, Unknown Pleasures (Factory, 1979), via Control de Anton Corbijn. Hipnótico.

André Zucca

André Zucca was a French photographer who worked for the German photomag, Signal, in occupied Paris during World War II.

Não faço ideia que película se usava na altura, mas era ávida de vermelho.


via O Jansenista.

Maya Alleruzzo

Maya Alleruzzo is currently based in Baghdad, Iraq for the Associated Press. Previously, she worked for The Washington Times for seven years, covering daily life, national politics and their impact. A California native, she studied journalism at San Francisco State University. Since 2003, she has focused on covering the war in Iraq and its impact at home.

Foto via The Big Picture, Recent scenes from Iraq.

O desejado túmulo

Numa azinhaga escura de arrabalde
haveis de sepultar-me. Que o meu túmulo
seja o lugar escuso para encontros.
Que o jovem desesperado e solitário
vagueando venha masturbar-se ali;
que o namorado sem um quarto aonde
leve ao castigo a namorada, a traga
e a force e a viole sobre a minha tumba;
que o invertido venha ajoelhar-se
à beira dela ante quem esperma vende,
ou deite abaixo as calças e se entregue,
as mãos buscando apoio nessa pedra.
Que bandos de malandros ali tragam
a rapariga que raptaram, e
a deixem lá estendida a escorrer sangue.
Que as prostitutas reles, piolhosas,
na lage pinguem corrimentos quando
a pobres velhos se venderem lá.
E que as crianças que brincando venham
jogar à minha volta, sem pisar nos cantos
a trampa mais cheirosa do que a morte
e que é memória humana de azinhagas,
ali descubram, mal adivinhando,
as nódoas secas do que foi violência,
ou foi desejo ou o que se chama vício
e as lavem rindo com seu mijo quente
a rechinar na pedra que me cobre
(e regressem um dia a repeti-las).

Jorge de Sena

Via Plomb du Cantal.


Senhor Luís? Bom dia. Vamos ter de o picar.

Double

Fotografias de Andrew Volk.

Evidently Chicken Town

the fucking cops are fucking keen
to fucking keep it fucking clean
the fucking chief's a fucking swine
who fucking draws a fucking line
at fucking fun and fucking games
the fucking kids he fucking blames
are nowehere to be fucking found
anywhere in chicken town

the fucking scene is fucking sad
the fucking news is fucking bad
the fucking weed is fucking turf
the fucking speed is fucking surf
the fucking folks are fucking daft
don't make me fucking laugh
it fucking hurts to look around
everywhere in chicken town

the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

the fucking view is fucking vile
for fucking miles and fucking miles
the fucking babies fucking cry
the fucking flowers fucking die
the fucking food is fucking muck
the fucking drains are fucking fucked
the colour scheme is fucking brown
everywhere in chicken town

the fucking pubs are fucking dull
the fucking clubs are fucking full
of fucking girls and fucking guys
with fucking murder in their eyes
a fucking bloke is fucking stabbed
waiting for a fucking cab
you fucking stay at fucking home
the fucking neighbors fucking moan
keep the fucking racket down
this is fucking chicken town

the fucking train is fucking late
you fucking wait you fucking wait
you're fucking lost and fucking found
stuck in fucking chicken town

the fucking pies are fucking old
the fucking chips are fucking cold
the fucking beer is fucking flat
the fucking flats have fucking rats
the fucking clocks are fucking wrong
the fucking days are fucking long
it fucking gets you fucking down
evidently chicken town

John Cooper Clarke

don't make me fucking laugh

Pelo menos uma hora

De uma pausa no corredor, antes do elevador. "És terrível". Desistir nunca me pareceu uma opção.

Quando eu tive 17 anos

Volcanos,

Damien Rice, O (Vector/14th Floor, 2002).

O has a thick canvas cover and impressive art-book packaging; its liner notes are crammed with drawings, paintings, and curiously superimposed poems. It seems instantly unfair that the record housed inside doesn't get the same kind of boundary-breaking treatment, but relies instead on all the whiny, sad-eyed clichés of a genre in desperate need of a fresh approach.

Robert Harper

robert harper is a fashion photographer from North London. So there...

Rid Of Me

PJ Harvey, Rid Of Me (Island, 1993).

See.

TOURIST Magazine

We think spelling errors can be kind of charming and we try very hard not to take ourself too seriously.

Eu hoje estou assim

Aphex Twin, Avril 14th (druqks - Warp, 2001).

Drukqs speaks a familiar tongue, instead of inviting us to learn new languages; it gives us the answers before asking the riddles. In this sense, it defies every expectation we had of Richard D. James. But in hindsight, it seems to show that some conventions are worth following.

Some conventions are worth following.

Sofia Coppola

Christopher Wahl is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada.
He lives in Toronto.

(P.S.: Vê estas).

Have a Seat

Fidelistas take over the Hilton Hotel and get their first rest after living in the field for months, 1959, Havana (© Burt Glinn / Magnum Photos).