CosmicJocker

DeRank ™: 14,60 • DeAge™ : 3582 days

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Here since 25 july 2015

CosmicJocker

17 may 21

DeRank™: 13,30

Dedicated to His Holiness @[G]

Giuseppe Cionfoli - Solo grazie

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CosmicJocker

25 apr 21

DeRank™: 15,27

Just found out:
Milva featuring Brecht

Milva Jenny dei pirati Opera da tre soldi 1972 73

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CosmicJocker

20 apr 21

DeRank™: 13,00

I'd say that with this Super League nonsense, they've already well and truly shattered everyone's patience. Those idiots who are outraged because by doing this, the teams aren't thinking about the fans? REALLY?!? They said the same thing when pay-TV came in, and then everyone was drooling over those clowns in shorts.
If only people in Italy would tell football to go to hell!
F*** FOOTBALL!!!
You wanted unrestrained, cynical, and cheating Capitalism?? Well, now deal with the consequences!!
But I already know you'll forgive your heroes...
GOOOOAL!
And nothing ever changes...

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CosmicJocker

2 mar 21

DeRank™: 19,20

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the number in front)

"One day you will say to yourself. I’m tired, I’m going to sit down, and you will sit down. Then you will say to yourself, I’m hungry, now I’ll get up and prepare something to eat. But you won’t get up. You will say to yourself. I was wrong to sit down, but since I’ve sat down I’ll stay here a little longer, then I’ll get up and prepare something to eat. But you won’t get up and you won’t prepare anything to eat.
You will look at the wall for a little while, then you will say to yourself, Now I’ll close my eyes, maybe I’ll sleep a little, then it will be better, and you will close them. And when you open them again the wall will be gone. Around you will be the infinite void, all the dead of all time wouldn’t fill it, even if they rose, and you will be like a pebble in the middle of the steppe.
Yes, one day you will know what it means, you will be like me, only you will have no one, because you will have had pity for no one and there will be no one left to have pity for."

Samuel Beckett, Endgame

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CosmicJocker

27 feb 21

DeRank™: 15,94

More stretchers for everyone...! (2)

Actium

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CosmicJocker

25 feb 21

DeRank™: 22,96

More stretchers for everyone...!

Aphex Twin - Tha

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CosmicJocker

16 feb 21

DeRank™: 22,23

Codeine - Second Chance

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CosmicJocker

10 feb 21

DeRank™: 14,33

Giorgio Gaber - La sedia da spostare

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CosmicJocker

1 dec 20

DeRank™: 34,64

Fascisti su Marte - Titoli

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CosmicJocker

30 nov 20

DeRank™: 20,13

Primal Scream - Kill All Hippies

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CosmicJocker

29 nov 20

DeRank™: 15,03

Primal Scream - Swastika Eyes

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CosmicJocker

28 nov 20

DeRank™: 11,63

Maybe I've posted it before, but this piece is so beautiful that I’m sharing it again.

Steve Roden - Stars Of Ice

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CosmicJocker

21 nov 20

DeRank™: 8,34

There’s a need for sobriety...

Guns N' Roses - Garden Of Eden (Without Paper Version)

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CosmicJocker

5 nov 20

DeRank™: 10,40

Ingrandisci questa immagine

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CosmicJocker

25 oct 20

DeRank™: 3,10

#excerpts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the number in front)

"And where is the place of the human self in this delirium?
Van Gogh sought his for his entire life with a strange energy and determination,
and he did not commit suicide in a fit of madness, in a panic of not making it,
but rather he had just made it and had discovered what it was and who he was, when the general consciousness of society, to punish him for having torn himself away from it,
suicided him.
And this happened to van Gogh as it usually does, on the occasion of an orgy, a mass, an absolution, or some other rite of consecration, of possession, of succubation or incubation.
Thus, this society
absolved,
consecrated,
sanctified
and possessed,
entered into his body,
erased in him the supernatural consciousness he had just assumed, and, like a flood of black crows in the fibers of his inner tree,
overwhelmed him with one last jolt,
and, taking his place,
killed him.
Because the anatomical logic of modern man is precisely that he has never been able to live, nor to think of living, except as possessed."

Antonin Artaud, Van Gogh. The Society's Suicided

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CosmicJocker

20 oct 20

DeRank™: 7,74

#excerpts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put a number in front)

"The truly diabolical and genuinely cursed thing about our time is to linger on artistic forms, instead of feeling like those condemned to the stake who make signs through the flames."

Antonin Artaud, The Theatre and Its Double. 1938

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CosmicJocker

9 sep 20

DeRank™: 4,95

FIRE (POZAR)

Opinions?

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CosmicJocker

5 aug 20

DeRank™: 9,53

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put a number in front)

"What purpose does our work aim for? I believe that science has but one purpose: to alleviate human toil. If scientists, intimidated by powerful egotists, limit themselves to amassing knowledge for knowledge's sake, science may remain forever stunted, and your new machines will serve only to create new burdens for mankind. And when, with the passage of time, you have discovered everything that can be discovered, your progress will only be a gradual distancing from humanity. Between you and humanity, an abyss may be dug so great that, one day, at every eureka, a cry of universal pain might respond."

Bertolt Brecht, Life of Galileo

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CosmicJocker

4 aug 20

DeRank™: 13,84

#extracts (I will never be consistent, therefore I won't put a number in front)

"Because this is the truth of the soul - she thought - of our self, which like a fish resides in deep seas, navigating in the dark, making its way through heaps of giant seaweed, crossing intervals of intermittent sunlight, going ever deeper into the darkness, into the cold, into the profound, into the inscrutable; then suddenly it leaps to the surface and plays with the waves rippled by the wind; it has, that is, an unmistakable need for a good brush-up, a tidying up, to refresh itself, to chat."

Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway

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CosmicJocker

4 aug 20

DeRank™: 4,17

I just wanted to say that yesterday on TV there was this masterpiece

Howard e il destino del mondo - Trailer

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CosmicJocker

3 aug 20

DeRank™: 5,64

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the number in front)

"Have you ever heard that buzzing in your ears, resembling the sound of a water mill? Have you ever noticed, in the solitude of night, and sometimes in broad daylight, that the memories of your previous life, awakened, become confused and line up, or group together? All the mistakes you have made, all the faults into which you have fallen, all the nonsense you have committed surge blood to your earlobes, drench your hair with sweat, send shivers up your spine. You relive your entire life, from birth up to the day you are living, you reexperience all the pains you have suffered, you empty all the goblets that, so often, you have drained to the dregs; you crucify your skeleton because there is no more flesh of yours to torment, you burn your soul at the stake because your heart is already reduced to ashes. You know all this."

August Strindberg, Inferno

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CosmicJocker

2 aug 20

DeRank™: 19,69

#excerpts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put a number in front)

"If sometimes we encounter explosive pages, pages that wound and burn, that elicit groans, tears, and blasphemies, know that they are pages of a man on the ropes, a man whose only defense is words, and words are always stronger than the lie, the crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the wheels and props that the cowardly invent to shatter the miracle of personality. If a man ever dared to translate everything he has in his heart, to put down what is his true experience, what is truly truth, I believe that the world would be shattered, that it would crumble into pieces, and neither God, nor chance, nor will could ever gather the fragments, the atoms, the indestructible elements that made up the world."

Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer

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CosmicJocker

31 jul 20

DeRank™: 5,90

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won’t put the number in front)

"He reluctantly confessed the new feeling that soon overwhelmed him: reluctantly because nothing embarrassed him as deeply as boredom, that secret ailment from which the beautiful rebellious appetites of youth, and later the harsh necessity, had shielded him until then. Stepping out of his compartment, his heart empty of hope and joy, he walked back and forth, from one end to the other of the carriage, tormented by an uncertain curiosity, doubtfully searching for something new and absurd to attempt. Everything seemed insufficient to his desire. He was not even interested in the remnants of his adventure, which now appeared to him as compromising and foolish."

André Gide, The Vatican's Underground

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CosmicJocker

30 jul 20

DeRank™: 11,27

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put a number in front)

"– But what exactly did you dislike about this life?
– Everything; the constant rushing as if in a race, the eternal game of miserable little passions, especially greed, the mutual tripping over each other, the gossip, the chatter, the reciprocal spite and then that scanning from head to toe; when you listen, you feel dizzy, you become dull. You think they are intelligent people, fully dignified, and all you hear is: 'This one got that, that one got the contract.' 'Excuse me, for what reason?' someone shouts. 'This one lost everything at the club yesterday, that one makes three hundred thousand!' Boredom, boredom, boredom! ... Where is man going, here? Where is his wholeness? Where has it hidden? In what nonsense has it been shattered?"

Ivan Aleksandrovič Gončarov, Oblomov

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CosmicJocker

29 jul 20

DeRank™: 8,90

#extracts (I will never be consistent, so I won't put the number in front)

"What remains of everything, of the Mora, of that life of ours? For so many years, a breeze of lime trees in the evening was enough for me, and I felt like another person, I truly felt like myself, I didn't even know exactly why. One thing I always think about is how many people must be living in this valley and in the world who are experiencing right now what we went through back then, and they don't know it, they don't think about it. The boys, the women, the world, they haven't really changed [...] yet life is the same and they don't know that one day they'll look around and everything will also be over for them. The first thing I said upon landing in Genoa, amidst the houses broken by war, was that every house, every courtyard, every terrace has meant something to someone and, more than the material damage and the dead, it hurts to think of so many years lived, so many memories, gone just like that in a night without leaving a trace. Or not? Maybe it's better this way, better that everything goes up in a bonfire of dry grass and that people start again."

Cesare Pavese, La Luna e i Falò

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