Porque já vão uns meses...

Pois é, minha gente, quem quer que leia isto. Já lá vão uns mesitos desde a minha última publicação neste espaço. Porquê? Simplesmente não sei. Parece que me esqueço que isto existe... ou então não sei o que escrever. Fica a promessa que arranjarei algo pelo menos todas as semanas. :)

Ora aconteceu muita coisa desde a última vez. Acho que nada de mal e muito de muito bom!

Para começar o mais importante. FINALMENTE a mulher que é o amor da minha vida vive comigo. :D Depois de quase 5 anos de namoro a 300 e picos kilómetros, cá estamos juntos e eu sinto-me imensamente feliz e sortudo.
Depois, a faculdade corre bem. Começa agora a época de exames e estou confiante. :)
O Natal trouxe umas prendinhas bem jeitosas para a casa que já andava a precisar, nomeadamente uma televisão HD e uma WIIIIIIIIII preta!!! :D Obrigado aos patronos de tais prendas. :D

A vida é boa não só aqui no mundo real como no virtual, no sempre eterno WoW. :P Nível máximo, uma pontuação de equipamento já bem boa e sempre no top de dano por segundo nas raids e instances. ^^

Bom, deixo-vos agora com um desejo que tenham um bom ano de 2010 e até à próxima! :)

Desafio

Então ela quis que eu fizesse um coiso.

Regras:

1. Publicar uma foto pessoal. Sim. E mais?
2. Escolher uma banda ou um(a) artista. Metallica!
3. Responder às perguntas apenas com títulos de músicas da banda ou artista escolhido(a).
4. Escolher 4 pessoas para que respondam ao desafio, sem esquecer de avisá-los.

1. És homem ou mulher? "Master of Puppets"
   
2. Descreve-te. "No Remorse"
   
3. O que é que as pessoas acham de ti? "The Thing That Should Not Be"
4. Como é que descreverias o teu ultimo relacionamento? "Cyanide"
   
5. Descreve a tua actual relação com o(a) teu(tua) actual namorado(a) ou pretendente. "One"
   
6. Onde é que querias estar agora? "The End of the Line"
7. O que é que pensas a respeito do amor? "Nothing Else Matters"
8. Como é que é a tua vida? "Fade to Black"
9. O que é que pedirias se pudesses ter apenas um desejo? "Suicide & Redemption"
10. Escreve uma frase sábia. "Fight Fire With Fire"

Eu passo mas não digo a quem!! MWAHAHAHAHAH!!

Semana De Cinema

Ora pois bem, finda a semana e tenho a dizer-vos que já há algum tempo que não ia duas vezes ao cinema num grupo de 7 dias há muito tempo. É bom. É caro. :P
O mais interessante é que fui ver dois filme completamente distintos: o Watchmen e o Marley&Me.
Ambos adaptações, o primeiro de uma banda desenhada e o segundo de um livro. Não tendo lido nenhum, apenas posso comentar sobre os filmes em si.




Pois bem, Watchmen. Um filme, para começar, loooooooongo. Se são daquelas pessoas que ao fim de uma hora já estão mortinhos que o filme acabe, não gastem dinheiro! Se também são pessoas impressionáveis, também não gastem dinheiro. O filme é um bocado "gore" a mais, quase a mais para o meu gosto. Era desnecessário tanto sangue, mas pronto. Quanto à adaptação, li que foi muito bem feita. Gostei da história e dos flashbacks de forma a conhecer a relação das personagens principais e do "flow" geral do filme. Não há momentos mortos e os efeitos visuais também estão fantásticos. Na minha opinião, se não fosse o "gore" a mais, este filme tinha 20/20. Assim tem 18/20.

Agora o segundo filme, Marley&Me. Um filme que conta a história de um Labrador chamado Marley e da família dele desde que o adoptam (ou neste caso, compram) até que ele morre. É um filme divertidíssimo (Marley é o "pior cão do mundo") com momentos extremamente sensíveis e que puxam ao sentimentalismo e valores. Mesmo sendo o pior cão do mundo, Marley não é abandonado nem dado a ninguém. Os donos (interpretados por Owen Wilson e Jennifer Anniston, ambos espectacularmente bem) amam-no incondicionalmente e isso é algo que todos temos de aprender a fazer. A parte final tocou-me bastante... principalmente por eu próprio já ter perdido um cão. Recomendo a todos que gostam de animais e principalmente cães a irem ver. É uma história emocionante, divertida, sensível, romântica (tem algumas partes) e com uma forte moral: quantas pessoas podem dizer que amam incondicionalmente, como um cão nos ama a nós? Tem uma nota de 20/20.

Never

I will never back away.

Hilariante

Esta deve ser das cenas mais hilariantes de um filme que eu alguma vez já vi. Fica aqui o video. xD

"Child Roland To The Dark Tower Came"

"My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch the working of his lie
On mine, and mouth scarce able to afford
Suppression of the glee that pursed and scored
Its edge, at one more victim gained thereby.

What else should he be set for, with his staff?
What, save to waylay with his lies, ensnare
All travellers who might find him posted there,
And ask the road? I guessed what skull-like laugh
Would break, what crutch 'gin write my epitaph
For pastime in the dusty thoroughfare,

If at his counsel I should turn aside
Into that ominous tract which, all agree,
Hides the Dark Tower. Yet acquiescingly
I did turn as he pointed: neither pride
Nor hope rekindling at the end descried,
So much as gladness that some end might be.

For, what with my whole world-wide wandering,
What with my search drawn out thro' years, my hope
Dwindled into a ghost not fit to cope
With that obstreperous joy success would bring,
I hardly tried now to rebuke the spring
My heart made, finding failure in its scope.

As when a sick man very near to death
Seems dead indeed, and feels begin and end
The tears and takes the farewell of each friend,
And hears one bid the other go, draw breath
Freelier outside ("since all is o'er," he saith,
"And the blow fallen no grieving can amend";)

While some discuss if near the other graves
Be room enough for this, and when a day
Suits best for carrying the corpse away,
With care about the banners, scarves and staves:
And still the man hears all, and only craves
He may not shame such tender love and stay.

Thus, I had so long suffered in this quest,
Heard failure prophesied so oft, been writ
So many times among "The Band"--to wit,
The knights who to the Dark Tower's search addressed
Their steps--that just to fail as they, seemed best,
And all the doubt was now--should I be fit?

So, quiet as despair, I turned from him,
That hateful cripple, out of his highway
Into the path he pointed. All the day
Had been a dreary one at best, and dim
Was settling to its close, yet shot one grim
Red leer to see the plain catch its estray.

For mark! no sooner was I fairly found
Pledged to the plain, after a pace or two,
Than, pausing to throw backward a last view
O'er the safe road, 'twas gone; grey plain all round:
Nothing but plain to the horizon's bound.
I might go on; nought else remained to do.

So, on I went. I think I never saw
Such starved ignoble nature; nothing throve:
For flowers--as well expect a cedar grove!
But cockle, spurge, according to their law
Might propagate their kind, with none to awe,
You'd think; a burr had been a treasure-trove.

No! penury, inertness and grimace,
In some strange sort, were the land's portion. "See
Or shut your eyes," said Nature peevishly,
"It nothing skills: I cannot help my case:
'Tis the Last Judgment's fire must cure this place,
Calcine its clods and set my prisoners free."

If there pushed any ragged thistle-stalk
Above its mates, the head was chopped; the bents
Were jealous else. What made those holes and rents
In the dock's harsh swarth leaves, bruised as to baulk
All hope of greenness? 'tis a brute must walk
Pashing their life out, with a brute's intents.

As for the grass, it grew as scant as hair
In leprosy; thin dry blades pricked the mud
Which underneath looked kneaded up with blood.
One stiff blind horse, his every bone a-stare,
Stood stupefied, however he came there:
Thrust out past service from the devil's stud!

Alive? he might be dead for aught I know,
With that red gaunt and colloped neck a-strain,
And shut eyes underneath the rusty mane;
Seldom went such grotesqueness with such woe;
I never saw a brute I hated so;
He must be wicked to deserve such pain.

I shut my eyes and turned them on my heart.
As a man calls for wine before he fights,
I asked one draught of earlier, happier sights,
Ere fitly I could hope to play my part.
Think first, fight afterwards--the soldier's art:
One taste of the old time sets all to rights.

Not it! I fancied Cuthbert's reddening face
Beneath its garniture of curly gold,
Dear fellow, till I almost felt him fold
An arm in mine to fix me to the place
That way he used. Alas, one night's disgrace!
Out went my heart's new fire and left it cold.

Giles then, the soul of honour--there he stands
Frank as ten years ago when knighted first.
What honest men should dare (he said) he durst.
Good--but the scene shifts--faugh! what hangman hands
In to his breast a parchment? His own bands
Read it. Poor traitor, spit upon and curst!

Better this present than a past like that;
Back therefore to my darkening path again!
No sound, no sight as far as eye could strain.
Will the night send a howlet or a bat?
I asked: when something on the dismal flat
Came to arrest my thoughts and change their train.

A sudden little river crossed my path
As unexpected as a serpent comes.
No sluggish tide congenial to the glooms;
This, as it frothed by, might have been a bath
For the fiend's glowing hoof--to see the wrath
Of its black eddy bespate with flakes and spumes.

So petty yet so spiteful! All along
Low scrubby alders kneeled down over it;
Drenched willows flung them headlong in a fit
Of mute despair, a suicidal throng:
The river which had done them all the wrong,
Whate'er that was, rolled by, deterred no whit.

Which, while I forded,--good saints, how I feared
To set my foot upon a dead man's cheek,
Each step, or feel the spear I thrust to seek
For hollows, tangled in his hair or beard!
--It may have been a water-rat I speared,
But, ugh! it sounded like a baby's shriek.

Glad was I when I reached the other bank.
Now for a better country. Vain presage!
Who were the strugglers, what war did they wage,
Whose savage trample thus could pad the dank
Soil to a plash? Toads in a poisoned tank,
Or wild cats in a red-hot iron cage--

The fight must so have seemed in that fell cirque.
What penned them there, with all the plain to choose?
No foot-print leading to that horrid mews,
None out of it. Mad brewage set to work
Their brains, no doubt, like galley-slaves the Turk
Pits for his pastime, Christians against Jews.

And more than that--a furlong on--why, there!
What bad use was that engine for, that wheel,
Or brake, not wheel--that harrow fit to reel
Men's bodies out like silk? with all the air
Of Tophet's tool, on earth left unaware,
Or brought to sharpen its rusty teeth of steel.

Then came a bit of stubbed ground, once a wood,
Next a marsh, it would seem, and now mere earth
Desperate and done with; (so a fool finds mirth,
Makes a thing and then mars it, till his mood
Changes and off he goes!) within a rood--
Bog, clay and rubble, sand and stark black dearth.

Now blotches rankling, coloured gay and grim,
Now patches where some leanness of the soil's
Broke into moss or substances like boils;
Then came some palsied oak, a cleft in him
Like a distorted mouth that splits its rim
Gaping at death, and dies while it recoils.

And just as far as ever from the end!
Nought in the distance but the evening, nought
To point my footstep further! At the thought,
A great black bird, Apollyon's bosom-friend,
Sailed past, nor beat his wide wing dragon-penned
That brushed my cap--perchance the guide I sought.

For, looking up, aware I somehow grew,
'Spite of the dusk, the plain had given place
All round to mountains--with such name to grace
Mere ugly heights and heaps now stolen in view.
How thus they had surprised me,--solve it, you!
How to get from them was no clearer case.

Yet half I seemed to recognise some trick
Of mischief happened to me, God knows when--
In a bad dream perhaps. Here ended, then,
Progress this way. When, in the very nick
Of giving up, one time more, came a click
As when a trap shuts--you're inside the den!

Burningly it came on me all at once,
This was the place! those two hills on the right,
Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight;
While to the left, a tall scalped mountain . . . Dunce,
Dotard, a-dozing at the very nonce,
After a life spent training for the sight!

What in the midst lay but the Tower itself?
The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart
Built of brown stone, without a counterpart
In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf
Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf
He strikes on, only when the timbers start.

Not see? because of night perhaps?--why, day
Came back again for that! before it left,
The dying sunset kindled through a cleft:
The hills, like giants at a hunting, lay
Chin upon hand, to see the game at bay,--
"Now stab and end the creature--to the heft!"

Not hear? when noise was everywhere! it tolled
Increasing like a bell. Names in my ears
Of all the lost adventurers my peers,--
How such a one was strong, and such was bold,
And such was fortunate, yet each of old
Lost, lost! one moment knelled the woe of years.

There they stood, ranged along the hillsides, met
To view the last of me, a living frame
For one more picture! in a sheet of flame
I saw them and I knew them all. And yet
Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set,
And blew. "Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came."

By Robert Browning

Black Hole Sun

Bom, desde já bem vindos ao mundo do Nuantho. Quem é Nuantho? Perguntam vocês. Pois bem, Nuantho é muita gente. É uma criação de alguém que ganhou vida própria, com uma certa personalidade em cada ambiente que percorre. É o namorado dedicado, é o amigo fiável, é o inimigo temido, é estudioso aplicado e o mago eterno. É o sofredor inato, o solitário social.

Por isso vos presenteio com este espaço de Memórias, Presentes e possíveis Futuros. E começo com uma Memória, esta música é genial. Pena que a banda tenha terminado.

"In my eyes

Indisposed

In disguise

As no one knows

Hides the face

Lies the snake

The sun

In my disgrace

Boiling heat

Summer stench

neath the black

The sky looks dead

Call my name

Through the cream

And Ill hear you

Scream again

Black hole sun

Wont you come

And wash away the rain

Black hole sun

Wont you come

Wont you come

Stuttering

Cold and damp

Steal the warm wind

Tired friend

Times are gone

For honest men

And sometimes

Far too long

For snakes

In my shoes

A walking sleep

And my youth

I pray to keep

Heaven send

Hell away

No one sings

Like you

Anymore

Hang my head

Drown my fear

Till you all just

Disappear

Black hole sun

Wont you come

And wash away the rain

Black hole sun

Wont you come

Wont you come"

By Soundgarden, Black Hole Sun.