Cumple de quince

Hoy cumple quince el blog.

En el baile nos moveremos al ritmo del siguiente cover de Pomplamoose (lo importante es seguir los pasos de Jack Conte, el pelado barbudo de la izquierda, sobretodo a eso de los dos minutos del tema):

Para el momento de la reflexión, estos típicos pensamientos: ¿Qué es el blog a esta altura? ¿Tiene realmente quince años? ¿Vive aún? Algún lector cada tanto pasa. Algún comentario tuve por ahí este año. Un like cuando enlacé un post en Facebook. Así que no se puede declarar muerto del todo…

En las charlas intelectuales de sillón desmenuzaremos unas canciones de los Oh Hellos...

En el video de la segunda canción alguien comentó (sic):

- Is the horse the angel of death? I sort of like that idea that spirits are animals. They talk about this horse In another song.

Y respondieron varios (sic):

- I think those represent the horsemen of the apocalypse.

- im fairly certain the horse is the one that carries death. and the rider is now missing due to Jesus conquering death.

- That’s how I take it.

Entonces yo dije:

- So the "where is your rider" question could be a sort of "death, where is your sting"?

Y me respondieron:

- I think it’s meant to be taken exactly like that, yes.

Pale white horse

Down they fell like the children of Eden

Down they fell like the tower

As the land relinquished her ghost

Heed the sirens, take shelter, my lover

Flee the fire that devours

But the sight held me fixed

Like a bayonet against my throat

Neither plague or famine tempered my courage

Nor did raids make me cower

But his translucent skin

Made me shiver deep within my bones

It was a pale white horse

With a crooked smile

And I knew it was my time

It was the raging storm

Of a foreign war

And a face I'd seen before

Where is your rider?

Was it you 'mid the fire and the ember?

Were you there to bedevil and beguile?

See, your face wasn't quite as I remember

But I know that wicked shape to your smile

Bury me as it pleases you, lover

At sea, or deep within the catacomb

But these bones never rested while living

So how can they stand to languish in repose?

He has thrown down the cavalry as gravel sinks

And as the stone founders underneath the sundered sea of red and reed

The shadow of Hades is fading

For he has cast down leviathan, the tyrant, and the horse and rider

Where is your rider?

He will hold with all of his might the armies of night,

Still as boulders laid to the side 'til we pass by

He has hoisted out of the mire every child

So lift your voice with timbrel and lyre

"We will abide, we will abide, we will abide"

Y finalmente llegamos al momento de la torta, con los deseos de que cumpla muchos más…

(En el día de Nuestra Señora de la Guardia)