This weekend a lot of things have gone through my mind.
Most of them related to Moore's common sense and his proof of an external world.
I could go on for ages, publish excerpts of my now finished essay, but I will do so when I get some feedback on it. I could alter it for ever. But essays must be finite and imperfect... a bit like me or you, unfortunately.
Ah, next topic: legalization of prostitution. (notice: 1) the blank in my head when I say I must hand this in next week 2) the z in legalization and my pseudo-rejection of British spelling)
I also baked a cake. My ego was therefore raised to a level of great happiness. I know... it sounds like I am training to be a Portuguese housewife or something. I argue differently. I am training to become a human being able to give myself culinary pleasure independently of others. I am also enhancing my ability to give such pleasure to others, increasing not only their well being but also mine, through a generous function called "sharing". Thus my interested in baking the perfect cake.
Music
This weekend I came into "contact", with the help of my laptop, with the complete discography of THE SMITHS.
My father had a couple of tapes with copied music, back from the 80's. When our car only had radio, we used to play them. One of them was "The Queen is Dead" by The Smiths. We used to play it when we went on what seemed never ending trips to my grandmother's . I remember falling asleep with Morrissey's voice, hearing the melody... Last year I came accross the Album, by chance. Hearing the songs again was magic. It made me go back to the time when I was 8 or 9 and realise how I had memorised all the sounds in that tape, made them correspond to the mountains on the way to my grandmother's. The sounds that smelled like my car, that looked like the Portuguese villages we passed through at night. And, even though I did not know anything about the lyrics, I now am certain that I did. When I read them I was not surprised. That was such expressive music that I felt what they meant even without knowing English.
And now I hear the Smiths again. 18 now. Not so small anymore. But still fascinated by Morrissey's voice, by the guittar sounds, the intoxicating ambience of some of those songs. And I close my eyes and I am in my car again, in Portugal again, the tape playing, and all I hear is this....
Take me out tonight
Where theres music and theres people
And theyre young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one
Anymore
Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and I
Want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please dont drop me home
Because its not my home, its their
Home, and Im welcome no more
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine
Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought oh god, my chance has come at last
(but then a strange fear gripped me and i
Just couldnt ask)
Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one ...
Oh, I havent got one
And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine
Oh, there is a light and it never goes out
There is a light and it never goes out
(There is a light that never goes out - The Smiths)
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