Posts Tagged ‘Gallagher’
This title may seem inviting, but this post is vapid and long.
There are 3+1 long-standing issues that I live constantly in my everyday life here in London and would like to share before that Wikipedia takes possession of my memory and my brain.
The brothers Gallagher
We don’t know why but that Gallagher brothers are on the papers at least monthly, it’s a fact. One of them pisses in the face of the other, and the other cuts hair at night and lovely insert honey in the pants of the other.
All this makes the news on every channel.
Have you heard the latest?
I would like to strike a blow for the poor Liam, who was forced to have a brother geek to the end. Ok, Liam was definitely the one of the two whith more women, more charming, the most able to convince his mother.
Noel the introspective, the little nerd, the perfectionist, the old man. Liam as well but with more style and with feigned disinterest. The classic guy who seems to be brilliant without any efforts, which always goes out and has a very active social life – and then at night the reality is that he spends time reading the Bible (this point probably not true, but if it were, I would be in love with Liam).
However, so much so, Noel Gallagher has recently released an album. Having listened to it, the reality is that I could have standed just a song. Boring. The death of me and you.
I only know that these days is the loser that goes out of fashion. Now, if you’re out of luck (out of luck is the google translation of Sfigato), you, Noel – and we know it – there is the necessity to highlight your period of glory with a song?
Do you want to recover from bad luck, making you even more because you chose the wrong time? Apparently so.
Amy Winehouse vs. Adele: Chasing Pavements
Now. The British music industry churns out a talent or alternative pop music a day, as Berlusconi used to embarrass Italianship. So there is a column in The Guardian titled: The band of the day. That means that they have a decent band every day. Is it possible? Oh well, it must be a joke, English sarcasm, I’m sure.
Amy Winehouse is still dead. She had feeding disorders and an innate talent, not reason to explain here that point. She has given rise to a current aesthetics, Winehouserism – ok.
Adele, the girl in good health, slips into this current, of course. Also, she has the talent, and unlike Amy, eat many carbohydrates and leads a healthy life. In short, she is perfectly fashionable.
The British press, following the death of Amy, has not failed to notice us at least once a day is healthy as compared to Amy.
But in short, a little sensitivity in applying the perspective of capitalistic substitutability to humans. You know the insane habit in Italian of saying ‘all useful, and none required’ (tutti utili e nessuno indispensabili) that 100% depersonalizes the uniqueness of each one of us.
We can do without, of course, as you can do without everything, but it is not the same thing. It is not. We have to be romantic, disappointed and we have to stop to watch stupid Sex & The city.
Adele is not Amy. Amy won’t come back. No one will give back to anyone. We can just hope for something different.
Still, we can eat tons of ice cream to recover from our diseases. But nobody, nobody ever will give back what we lost. We must all die, might as well rely on our irrecoverable uniqueness.
The ‘move on’ policy is not easy.
And afterwards what does it mean Chasing Pavements?
Gary Barlow vs Robbie Williams
I’ve been spending quite nights watching X –factor, which is tedious – I did because I had to. I ‘ve never had the passion for it, neither when I was in Italy. This time I had the occasion to see that Gary Barlow (TT) is not dead. The intellectual nerdy of Take That has came back. And, since that nerditude is the cutting edge in lifestyle, Gary is overcoming his foremost enemy: Robbie Williams. I’m sorry for Robbie. And I utterly preferred the times when cooleness ruled.
Cappuccino with cinnamon
I found a very good thing that I don’t know whether English or American: cappuccino with cinnamon. The cinnamon powder I say, not syrup.
I became addicted, so I always carry with me a box of spices to add to everything. Great. Great thing.
But an Italian barista caught me while I was doing the operation of adding cinnamon in my cappuccino, and told me I’m not Italian anymore.
So I started to write in English. I seriously rely on baristas.
The press, however, does not talk about that. Yet, c’est dommage, because I’d have known more about cinnamon and cappuccino. More than everything.