Collected works

My inbox

Is full of guilt. If you are one of the unlucky on that list, my platitudes to you. Funny how knowing the nature of the issue does not help in solving the problem.


Last weekend was Barcelona's annual festival commemorating some kind of virgin or something. What does it really mean? Castells, human towers five people tall; cabezudos, the big-head, you-know-you've-been-too-long-if-you-think-they're-normal clown-type things; and of course, a form of explosive enjoyment. This time it was in the form of the correfoc. Think fireworks on goat heads and pitchforks wielded by people dressed up like demons. People from the city meeting the two qualifications of being a little nuts in addition to posessing cotton garments to cover the whole upper body joined the diablos, joining together with anyone with a fresh firework, frolicking in the sparks. I am a moron for not taking photos. Stupid!

Other mercè activities: concerts until 5 in the morning, a day off work (woot!), wine tasting along the port, open museums. Pleasant.


I'm not sure if I hate the Streets for being artistically vapid or whether some of their songs are catchy.

Saw the Raveonettes on Friday, was OK but not as good as the album I have. I wanted more noise! And bounciness!

From the recapturing-the-past department, I got a hold of a copy of The Shins' Oh Inverted World the other day. Hello 2001!

Comments are closed.