mardi 17 juin 2008

When your mind made's up


once is one of the best movie I've seen in ages, it's fabulous, fabulous by its simplicty, by the movement of the digital camera, fabulous by the characters who are even not actors, fabulous by the soundtrack which is just a pure heaven soundtrack. Because the whole story is around this, MUSIC, it is a character on her own actually even the formal characters are anonymous.The movie is simply what life is...simple and unpretentious. It's probably the most romantic movie or not of love whith what it brings or takes in a good or a bad way. The whole movie is a poem filmed in a small-scaled production and that is probably what makes it that special and that beautiful.This is just the story of a beautiful story and because it looks like the real life everything don't especially end in a good way...just as in the real life. If this movie don't take your breath away like it did to me, if it don't make you cry, it probably means that you don't trust in a new kind of cinema, ONCE is just an ode to Ireland and her link with music.

vendredi 9 mai 2008

You can find yourself a God believe in which one you want

"Do we take the time to be
All the things we said we'd be
And we bury heads in sand
But my future's in my hands
It means nothing "

dimanche 27 avril 2008

Because it's not raining today!!


"-It is raining.
-You're wet.
-Because it is raining. It rains in Seattle, which is where I left my umbrella. It does not rain in Los Angeles.
-It rains in L.A. It's raining right now.
-Really? Right now?"



samedi 26 avril 2008

qu'est ce qui compte vraiment?


We were silent for a minute. He suddenly smiled with the childlike smile I had noticed that morning.
“He invented that about heads himself out of a book, and told me first himself, and understands badly. But I only seek the causes why men dare not kill themselves; that's all. And it's all no matter.”
“How do you mean they don't dare? Are there so few suicides?”
“Very few.”
“Do you really think so?”
He made no answer, got up, and began walking to and fro lost in thought.
“What is it restrains people from suicide, do you think?” I asked.
He looked at me absent-mindedly, as though trying to remember what we were talking about.
“I . . . I don't know much yet. . . . Two prejudices restrain them, two things; only two, one very little, the other very big.”
“What is the little thing?”
“Pain.”
“Pain? Can that be of importance at such a moment?”
“Of the greatest. There are two sorts: those who kill themselves either from great sorrow or from spite, or being mad, or no matter what . . . they do it suddenly. They think little about the pain, but kill themselves suddenly. But some do it from reason—they think a great deal.”
“Why, are there people who do it from reason?”
“Very many. If it were not for superstition there would be more, very many, all.”
“What, all?”
He did not answer.
“But aren't there means of dying without pain?”
“Imagine”—he stopped before me—“ imagine a stone as big as a great house; it hangs and you are under it; if it falls on you, on your head, will it hurt you?”
“A stone as big as a house? Of course it would be fearful.”
“I speak not of the fear. Will it hurt?”
“A stone as big as a mountain, weighing millions of tons? Of course it wouldn't hurt.”
“But really stand there and while it hangs you will fear very much that it will hurt. The most learned man, the greatest doctor, all, all will be very much frightened. Every one will know that it won't hurt, and every one will be afraid that it will hurt.”
“Well, and the second cause, the big one?”
“The other world!”
“You mean punishment?”
“That's no matter. The other world; only the other world.”
“Are there no atheists, such as don't believe in the other world at all?”
Again he did not answer.
“You judge from yourself, perhaps.”
“Every one cannot judge except from himself,” he said, reddening. “There will be full freedom when it will be just the same to live or not to live. That's the goal for all.”
“The goal? But perhaps no one will care to live then?”
“No one,” he pronounced with decision.
“Man fears death because he loves life. That's how I understand it,” I observed, “and that's determined by nature.”
“That's abject; and that's where the deception comes in.” His eyes flashed. “Life is pain, life is terror, and man is unhappy. Now all is pain and terror. Now man loves life, because he loves pain and terror, and so they have done according. Life is given now for pain and terror, and that's the deception. Now man is not yet what he will be. There will be a new man, happy and proud. For whom it will be the same to live or not to live, he will be the new man. He who will conquer pain and terror will himself be a god. And this God will not be.”
fedor Dostoievsky, The possessed, 1872