segunda-feira, 28 de setembro de 2009
I'll be a Marxist, a Communist....
It's all over now, Baby Blue (Bob Dylan)
Not yet Mr. Dylan, you see, we are still very busy in our country…
I've got to save the world, liberate
Eat the food that's on my plate
Recycling is really great
Whatever I can do
To get in bed with you
I'll be a Marxist, a Communist
A pacifict, an anarchist, a Democrat
Red, white, green or blue
Whatever I can do
To get in bed with you
I never knew I gave a damn
Until you told me who I am
And what to do
Whatever I can do
To get in bed with you
'Cause I know war is bad and love is really good
Taking a stand starts in your neighbourhood
I do the best I can just like you say I should
The ones who make a difference are few
So what can I do
To get in bed with you
I'd love to hear your world peace plan
Why don't you tell me in my van
We can discuss Camus
Whatever I can do
To get in bed with you
I've got to change my mind, masticate
Use condoms when I fornicate
Until I hyperventilate
Whatever I can do
Your balls are turning blue
I've got to save the world, liberate
Eat the food that's on my plate
Recycling is really great
Whatever I can do
To get in bed with you
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Alguém me explica porque têm a GNR e a justiça(?) que meter o nariz para saber se quem trabalha na pastelaria lá está dentro ou não?
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Um dos pilares do liberalismo e do mercado livre, é a constatação, colhida da prática, de que a concorrência, a livre formação dos preços, ...
13 comentários:
Talkin' John Birch Paranoid Blues
Bob Dylan
Well, i was feelin' sad an' kind of blue
I didn't know what i was gonna do
The communists were comin' around
They were in the air
They were on the ground
They were all over.
So i ran down must hurriedly
An' joined the John Birch society
I got me a secret membership card
Went back to my backyard
Started lookin' on the sidewalk
‘Neath the rose bush.
Well i was lookin' everywhere
For them gol-darned reds
I got up in the mornin'
Looked under my bed
Looked behind the kitchen
Behind the door
Even torn loose the kitchen floor
Couldn't find any.
I looked beneath the sofa, beneath the chair
Looking for them reds everywhere
I looked way up my chimney hole
Even deep down inside my toilet bowl
They got away
I heard some footsteps by the front porch door
So i grabbed my shotgun from the floor
I snuck around the house with a huff an' a hiss
Sayin', "Hands up!, you communist''
It was the mail man… he punched me out
Well i quit my job so i could work alone
I got a magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes
Followin' some clues from my detective bag
I discovered there was red stripes in the American flag
Did you know about Betsy Ross?
When i was sittin' home alone an' i started to sweat
I figured they was in my televison set
I peeked behind the picture frame
I got a shock from my feet that hit my brain
Them reds did it!
The ones out on Hootenany.
Well i finally started thinkin' straight
When i ran outta things to investigate
I couldn't imagine doin' anythin' else
An' now i'm home investigatin' myself
Hope i don't find out too much
Good god!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4I6Sa4zmoKE&feature=related
Who cares?!
Very nice song Mr. Dylan
I really appreciate
I know you Yankees can overrate
But don’t forget
I’m talkin’ Portugal yet
Not 1964 the United States
But who cares!
Mr. Rosa,
Paranoid blues are for eternity
Here, there and everywhere
All you’ve gotta do
is just set the scenario anew
Never been denied
that you never ask questions when God's on your side
Who really cares?!
Yours sincerely,
Robert Zimmerman
Oh my name it ain't nothin'
My age it means less
The country I come from
Is called the Midwest
I's taught and brought up there
The laws to abide
And that the land that I live in
Has God on its side.
Oh the history books tell it
They tell it so well
The cavalries charged
The Indians fell
The cavalries charged
The Indians died
Oh the country was young
With God on its side.
The Spanish-American
War had its day
And the Civil War too was
Soon laid away
And the names of the heroes
I's made to memorize
With guns in their hands
And God on their side.
The First World War, boys
It came and it went
The reason for fighting
I never did get
But I learned to accept it
Accept it with pride
For you don't count the dead
When God's on your side.
The Second World War
Came to an end
We forgave the Germans
And then we were friends
Though they murdered six million
In the ovens they fried
The Germans now too
Have God on their side.
I've learned to hate the Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
It's them we must fight
To hate them and fear them
To run and to hide
And accept it all bravely
With God on my side.
But now we've got weapons
Of chemical dust
If fire them we're forced to
Then fire them we must
One push of the button
And a shot the world wide
And you never ask questions
When God's on your side.
Through many a dark hour
I've been thinkin' about this
That Jesus Christ
Was betrayed by a kiss
But I can't think for you
You'll have to decide
Whether Judas Iscariot
Had God on his side.
So now as I'm leavin'
I'm weary as Hell
The confusion I'm feelin'
Ain't no tongue can tell
The words fill my head
And fall to the floor
That if God's on our side
He'll stop the next war.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmDVyBceEv4
Mr. Dylan, your voice is divine, your poetry wonderful, but your perception of European history is distorted. I can understand, is too far for you…
If you don’t mind I will recapitulate:
The Second World War
Came to an end
Thanks to the Americans
Who forgave the Germans
And then they were friends
Though they fried the Jew
This is never been a big issue
Because Israel is not on our side
Everybody knows that worldwide
Something to do with religion
At least is what they teach me in Lisbon
But I've learned to love the Russians
All through my whole life
If another war comes
I say goodbye to my wife
Moscow is the place to be
A nice view on the Gulag
And you can read Gorky
With Stalin always on your side!
Oh, Gosh, no, no, please!, not paranoid blues again!
I promise, dear Lord, to travel to Fátima upon my very feet. Upon my knees, if you wish me to.
I’ll be a good father, a good husband and a good Jew, cross my heart.
Faithfully yours,
ever
Robert Zimmerman
And if my thought could be seen
They'd probably put my head in a guillotine
But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only.
He not busy being born
is busy dying.
http://www.bobdylan.com/#/songs/its-alright-ma-im-only-bleeding
"People are crazy and times
are strange,
I'm locked in tight,
I'm out of range,
I used to care,
but things have changed"
Bob Dylan
Go_dot, I real think that Dylan – and not God - is now on our side, don't you?
I real think that Dylan – and not God - is now on our side, don't you?
Não tenha assim tanta certeza, mais depressa teria God como partenaire.
Consta que o Dylan já mudou muitas vezes – ele afirma que não – e que foi judeu, ateu, cristão, de esquerda, de direita, e agora não se sabe o quê.
Tem passado a vida a dizer que não é porta-voz de ninguém nem de nada, mas continua lúcido e muito pouco acomodado ao senso comum. Ainda agora gravou um disco com canções de Natal, lá levantou de novo a poeira e a berraria. E ele, moita carrasco, nem uma palavra de explicação.
Mas não se esqueça, ou talvez não saiba, que essa canção que o Go_dot refere foi escrita expressamente para a banda sonora de um filme, ‘Wonder boys’. E esse filme é, nem mais nem menos, sobre as frustrações de um ex-menino maravilha que não consegue corresponder às expectativas que os outros e ele têm de si próprio, afundando-se na marijuana, em relações pouco gratificantes e em autojustificações penosas. Continua a cantá-la até hoje.
Poderá ser em parte autobiográfico, mas é sobretudo um discurso cáustico sobre a incapacidade e a decadência.
Não me parece que seja um filme com o qual alguém queira identificar-se.
Este disco (‘Slow Train Coming’) continua a ser reeditado, mas não sei se as palavras
All that foreign oil controlling American soil,
Look around you, it's just bound to make you embarrassed.
Sheiks walkin' around like kings, wearing fancy jewels and nose rings,
Deciding America's future from Amsterdam and to Paris
ainda são válidas para o autor. Quanto a isto,
But the enemy I see wears a cloak of decency,
All non-believers and men stealers talkin' in the name of religion
não tenho qq dúvida.
Estamos de novo tão fundos como os submarinos do Portas. Subamos.
ml, já tinha chegado a essa conclusão, que o Bob Dylan – como os Beatles - é pau para toda a colher, por isso a certa altura comecei a fazer os meus próprios poemas. Mas há algo que sempre admirei nele, a sua independência, muito diferente dos nossos cantadores engagées.
Ainda não consegui perceber nada acerca dos submarinos do Portas!
Ainda não consegui perceber nada acerca dos submarinos do Portas!
Oh, não se preocupe, regular business.
Um ministério encomenda material no valor de mil milhões de euros a uma empresa alemã. O contrato obriga a contrapartidas no valor de 34 milhões € a favor de sectores previamente definidos.
Como prova de pagamento desse montante, os alemães apresentam facturas fictícias a favor de empresas que nada tinham a ver com esta guerra.
Estado e sectores a beneficiar ficam a ver navios.
Onde pára a massaroca? Tem aí alguma no seu bolso?
Neste momento há dois processos paralelos. Um a correr contra os que geriram o negócio. Outro em investigação, para tentar apurar em que moldes foi elaborado o contrato. Que, para apimentar ainda mais o enigma das águas profundas, parece que anda extraviado.
Delicioso!
E onde entra aqui o Portas?, pergunta-me.
Era o ministro da Defesa.
Voilà!
Juntando este caso a outros semelhantes que se passaram no tempo dele, podemos dizer que o homem tem um azar do caraças, parece que há aqui abusos continuados da sua boa-fé.
ml, obrigadinho, Começo a perceber. O que seria da gente sem a esquerda?
"que seria da gente sem a esquerda?"
O que espanta é que é a mesmíssima esquerda que, apesar de se indignar contra as negociatas feitas pelas burocracias estatais, entende que a solução está em aumentar as burocracias estatais.
O Estado faz asneira com o nosso dinheiro?
A solução está em mais estado, supostamente desta vez com anjos à frente, em vez de pessoas de carne e osso.
Não é má-fé...é mesmo fé!
Mas que fulgor, prezado, na mouche. Nada se compara a meia dúzia de linhas brilhantes.
A companhia alemã e as empresas beneficiárias que engendraram negociatas burocráticas fraudulentas com as contrapartidas, são estado. E para evitar estas asneiras estatais com o nosso dinheiro, o cliente que decide a qualidade e quantidade de material militar a adquirir, deve ser uma empresazita privada qualquer, assim um BPNSubmarinos, sei lá, que por sua vez assina com o estado convénios de aluguer e assistência do material em stock.
Bem dizia aqui há uns tempos o Carmo da Rosa - por muito que ele não pretenda que se aplique a si - se os hospitais funcionam mal, acabe-se com os hospitais. Se os quartéis acarretam demasiados problemas de gestão, controle e eficácia, acabe-se com os militares. Ou privatizem-se. Ou isso.
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