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kalebeul anythingarian bubbles and troubles from the land of the fretting nun
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/ kalebeul / 2005 / 11 / 04 /

Sick of people moaning about 1714?

It’s worse in Perpignan, where they’re still going on about 1659. (I hope you all know that Ceuta and Melilla are not the only Spanish enclaves. Despite what the nutter who wrote the badly spelled bits of the Wikipedia thing says, Catalan-language public education is becoming available and public administration is not necessarily monolingual. This [...]

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French great granny

Eulàlia Petit@Barcelonetes is serialising the life of her great grandma, and it looks like being a great read. This is where it starts in Catalan; try the Comprendium translator if you prefer English, French or Spanish.

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Filth: progress

I’m still researching the new Filth walk, which I hope to market multilingually in conjunction with another blogger. One of the things I’ve been looking at is the profusion of illegal, self-built housing, lacking in all basic services, which exists on old factory terrains and in other uninviting places. I met a bunch of Moroccans [...]

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Historic weather data

Meteoclimatic.com is a brilliant site which provides real-time data from amateur weather stations across Spain and its various dangly bits. I particularly like the historic feature (hit Estaciones then a province, and you’ll see a calendar below the fold; navigate back in time using the arrows on the right). Compare it with the miserable crap [...]

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A gringo, a Spaniard and a Mexican…

This ties into Hugo Chávez’ use of the race card in the runup to Halloween (“Halloween is a gringo custom, [and] the use of terror is particularly typical of gringo culture. Terrorism, creating fear among other peoples, creating fear among one’s own people”) and, slightly less convincingly, into the codpiece post. I guess people never [...]

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Apparently some ladies & gents with whom I sing when the big geezer is off doing other stuff are going to be on the telly quite a lot.

Apart from the odd bit of arranging, the barrel organ is the thing at the moment, when I get time. It’s a somewhat more lonely path, but I’m not very good at dance steps or 80s music anyway.

Kalebeul wouldn’t watch a hagiography of a faghating totalitarian fuckwit like St Paul, so it sees no reason this weekend to take cinema seats away from Barcelona’s chiliastic masses in their nostalgic lust for Hispanic dictators and good-looking saints. Paul Berman’s piece from 2004 applies. Even the regime sociologists seem to have noticed that Cataloonia has lost track of reality.

Graffiti of Camarón de la Isla and guitarist, somewhere in Barcelona, I think in Carmelo, so overlooking the place where he died:

More here.

Kabe-Otoko/Wall Man, neither human nor demon, observes the world from within walls:

Velen verzeggen Schiedam, maar sluiten dadelijk een verbond met Barcelona.” Is it about drinkers swearing by Dutch gin/jenever, only to turn to Spanish wine and brandy?


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