Foto 5 Thursday, 27. Sep 2007
Skrevet af Thurston Magnus under Fotografier, 8 CommentsEfteråret byder op og bider ind:
Tekst 4 Friday, 21. Sep 2007
Skrevet af Thurston Magnus under Tekster, CommentsFlg. var et respons på et spørgende indlæg på et website et sted i internettets bølgende sump af superlativer og beskrivende adjektiver, og sigter til at adressere folks overdrevne (!) brug af ligegyldig tegnsætning og deslige spild af pynt. Indlægget blev prompte slettet, fordi det rejste spørgsmåltegn ved selve universets fabrikation og stuff:
The importance of the question mark can not be overestimated. Once in a while you have to ask yourself, if it’s even a good idea to end your sentence with a question mark. In doing so, you will subject the content of your sentence to scrutiny, which is perhaps not something you will like the outcome of. Therefore it feels safer to end your sentences with a question mark in triplicate, which infers you are surprised, frustrated or not really asking a question at all, not one you want answered anyway. Somewhere during the postmodern era irony became a household way of commenting on things, mainly because hiding behind irony leaves people carelessly free from being taken at face value and therefore in a vulnerable honest state. The tools of irony spread to the written language, in such a fashion that people started warping even it’s very structure to further their schemes. Not content to limiting themselves to the alphabet, even the question mark and it’s even more reknowned sibling, the exclamation mark (!) was roped in to abuse the written language. There is a problem with this of course, otherwise this short essay would be immaterial, and the problem is the watering down of language. For each time you use parts of the language meant to be merely navigational tools as to it’s understanding, you are falsely empowering what is just a simple way of conveying a message. Writing several exclamation or question marks in a row doesn’t lend your message more power, it just dilutes the point you’re trying to make. Furthermore claiming it as an ironic gesture, just makes it even worse, as you’re clearly removing any kind of base underneath whatever point you were trying to make. At the end of the day, it’s henceforth recommended that you only use the written language for what it was intended, communication, and leave simple minded ornamentation well alone, since apparently not everyone it equipped to handle it.
Foto 4 Friday, 21. Sep 2007
Skrevet af Thurston Magnus under Fotografier, 7 CommentsHVIS IKKE MAN SKULLE VÆRE SELVOPTAGET / HVEM FANDEN SKULLE MAN SÅ VÆRE OPTAGET AF?
Tekst 3 Friday, 21. Sep 2007
Skrevet af Thurston Magnus under Tekster, CommentsPrik huller i kulturministeren / så dampen kan slippe ud
Oversættelse 1 Wednesday, 5. Sep 2007
Skrevet af Thurston Magnus under Tekster, Comments
Uden helt at vide hvorfor, har jeg arbejdet lidt med nogle oversættelser af engelsksprogede sange. Et par af mine faves har fundet vej til den danske tunge, og i processen har jeg tumlet med tyngden af ord, hvorledes man bevarer originalpræget. Ikke nemt hvis møget rimer, og slet ikke nemt hvis man tvivler på budskabet (i Coil-teksten kan man fx. tænke lidt over om “The Dreamer Is Still Asleep” hentyder til “drømmeren sover stadig”, eller “drømmeren sover ubevægeligt”, men jeg synes jeg er nogenlunde dækket ind. Anyway, here goes:
Originaltekst: Sonic Youth
NYC Ghosts & Flowers
when the phone rang, 3 in the morn, dead middle of night
there was nuthin on the line
i set back the silent receiver / tiny flames lit in my head
hey did any of you freaks here ever remember lenny?
i can’t remember his last name
he’s turned to dust now, one of the chosen few
left out in the rain, out of town again
left out in the rain, ocean bound i guess
between the matress and a column of hazy faces
i remember every word you said
quite a clear picture ev’ry word you said
the door was open but the way was not lit
and there was no way out of my head on a crimson hiway by a chrome bumper i last saw you:
alive / inclined to thrive / evening fireflies lit sparks around yr headbut wait a minute let’s back up a bit:
some famous stars were busted by the thought police down on fashion avenue
impersonating real men / not knowing who they really were
now here at dark corners all is calm and quiet and good
the kids are up late dreaming quiet questions in a graceful mood:can you please pass me a jug of winter light?
fold me in an ocean’s whim?
in sweet corrosive fire light?
in the city made of tin?
are you famous under the skin?
familiar with the things you wanted?
able now to take it all in?
making peace w/ every hole in the story?
did lightning keep you up all night?
illuminate the soot and grit?
can you tell how high the sky tonight?
dig out from under in spite of it?
can you cover up the one that floats?
can you push back the hours?
i hear yr voice, i speak yr name
among nyc ghosts and flowers
will we meet? to run again?
thru nyc ghosts and flowers
Oversættelse:
NYC Genfærd & Blomster
da telefonen ringede, 3 om morgenen, midt om natten
var der ingen på linien
jeg lagde røret på, gnister tændte sig i mit hovede
hej, nogen af jer fjolser der husker Lenny?
Han er støv nu, en af de få udvalgte
mellem madrassen og en søjle af tågede ansigter
husker jeg hvert ord du sagde
et ret klart billede af hvert ord du sagde
døren var åben men vejen var mørkelagt
og der var snart ingen vej tilbage
på en mørkerød motorvej ved en forkromet kofanger, så jeg dig sidst
i live / parat til at blive / eftermiddagens ildfluer slog gnister om dit hovede
men vent lige lidt, lad os stoppe op:
nogle berømte stjerner blev knaldet af tankepolitiet nede på modegade
da de udgav sig for rigtige mennesker, uden at vide hvem de virkeligt var
nu her på mørkehjørne er alt stille og roligt og godt
ungerne er oppe sent mens de drømmer stille spørgsmål I elegant humør
vil du venligst række mig en kande vinterlys?
folde mig ind i et havs blik?
i smukt ætsende ildlys?
i byen lavet af blik?
er du berømt under huden?
bekendt med dine egne ønsker?
parat til at tage det hele ind?
slutte fred m/ alle huller i historien?
holdt lyn dig vågen i nat?
oplyste det sod og skidt
kan du se hvor høj himlen er i aften?
grave dig fri af al dens hvidt?
kan du skjule den der flyder?
kan du skrue tiden tilbage?
jeg hører din stemme, taler dit navn
mellem NYC genfærd & blomster
mødes vi igen? for at lege igen?
gennem NYCs genfærd & blomster
Originaltekst: Coil
The Dreamer Is Still Asleep
Hush, may I ask you all for silence?
The dreamer is still asleep
May the goddess keep us from single vision
And Newton’s sleep
The dreamer is still asleep
The dreamer is still asleep
He’s inventing landscapes in their magnetic field
Working out a means of escape
We’ll cut across the crop circles
The seer says no
Not much time left for these escape attempts
Look at it this way
In ten years’ time
Who’ll care? Who’ll even remember?
One dies like that, deep within it
Almost inside it
It’s there for a reason
I’ll give you my old address
And take that little book
To tear and cut the paper
The beginning is also the end
Time defines it, time defines it
It will end
Like close friendship
Nothing could be further
We forget the space between people and things
Is empty
We forget, and don’t notice the loss
Pressing into venerable degeneration
Such radiant pollution
The god with the silver hand surveys this vast contamination
The dreamer is still dreaming
The dreamer is still dreaming
In the heart of your heart
Your eye remains
Is that hurt you? Is that blister you call loveless?
Your whole life is a cold slow shock
Your whole life is a cold slow shock
Take all your time
Track the shabby shadow down
Through hissing mists of history
The dreamer is still dreaming
The dreamer is still dreaming
Hush, may I ask you all for silence?
Will he wake in time to catch the sunset?
Hush, may I ask you all for silent?
May I ask you all for silent?
Oversættelse:
Drømmeren sover stadig
Stille
må jeg bede om tavshed
drømmeren sover stadig
må gudinden beskytte os mod snævertsyn
og Newtons søvn
Drømmeren sover stadig
Drømmeren sover stadig
Han opfinder landskaber i deres magnetiske felt
Udarbejder et flugtforsøg
Vi skærer over korncirklerne
Den synske siger nej
Ikke meget tid tilbage for disse flugtforsøg
Se på det således
Om ti år
Vil ingen huske det
Sådan dør man, dybt inde I det
næsten inden I det
Der er en grund til, at det er der
Jeg vil give dig min gamle adresse
og tag denne lille bog
for at rive og flå papiret
Begyndelsen er også slutningen
Tiden definerer det, tiden definerer det
Det vil slutte
Som nært venskab
Intet kunne vare længere
Vi glemmer rummet mellem mennesker og ting
er tomt
Vi glemmer og bemærker ikke tabet
På vej mod ærværdig nedgang
Sådan strålende forurening
Guden med sølvhånden overskuer sin enorme infektion
Drømmeren sover stadig
Drømmeren sover stadig
I dit hjertes hjerte
vedbliver dit øje
Er den smerte dig? Er det stikket du kalder uelskeligt?
Hele dit liv kun et koldt gys
Hele dit liv kun et koldt gys
Tag dig din tid
Opspor den slidte skygge
gennem historiens hvæsende tåge
Drømmeren sover stadig
Drømmeren sover stadig
Stille
må jeg bede om tavshed
Vil han vågne I tide til at fange solnedgangen
Stille
må jeg bede om tavshed
må jeg bede om tavshed