Wordpress 2.0 in Catalan
… is on the way, and will be used by these folks. One of the guys behind it is Carlos Casado, who also runs this excellent Badalona blog.
… is on the way, and will be used by these folks. One of the guys behind it is Carlos Casado, who also runs this excellent Badalona blog.
“Du bist Deutschland” was widely acknowledged to have been an embarrassment, so why isn’t the blogosphere ripping the zike out of the Catalan Generalitat’s even more wasteful and embarrassing “Com tu” campaign? And why aren’t the equally incompetent & similarly inspired Renfe Cercanías suing for plagiarism?
Looking forward to better news re the Islamists, and to their being allowed to participated in free elections in Libya.
The Catalan Audiovisual Council, the politically appointed regional regulator, is about to announce how the referendum on the bloody Estatut should be reported “in order to avoid what happened in the Euro referendum.” If you ignore them, they’ll close you down. (The solution: house your server in the free state of Valencia, watch these particular [...]
–Hola, soy Trevor.
–¿Cómo?
–Trébol, como la planta.
…
–Hola, soy Trébol.
–¡Como la planta! ¡Qué bonito!
…
–Hola, soy Perejil.
–José María, encantado.
Spam this morning from Hairbrushes G. Brunhilde, Witticism H. Miscasting and Waistbands M. Doctors, among others.
Someone told me the other night that Joan Maragall’s little jingle is metaphorically cunnilingual, but I’m afraid I’ve forgotten the explanation. I guess you could make a case for lines 1-4:
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?