Young the Giant

How do you know a band is good? And I mean really good. Well, just listen...

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Jimmer

El Cuaderno

“Llevo cinco días esperando esta broma de tren,” dijo José Luís sarcásticamente, casi murmurando a sí mismo.

Él llevó abrigo a pesar de que todavía hacía calor en Barcelona durante el mes de septiembre. En su mano derecha se encontraba una carpeta negra, la cual manejaba como si no quedara nada de importancia adentro. José Luís miró a su alrededor inmediato para ver si alguien se reía de la misma broma.

Veía a un ejecutivo que llevaba maletín y que miraba su reloj cada diez segundos. José Luís pensó que no había razón por hacerlo tanto. A menos que fuera un reloj cubierto con oro.

Después, José Luís se fijó en un gamberro que quizas tenía veinte años. El joven se sentaba en el suelo sucio de la Estación de Sants, apoyándose con la misma columna en que dibujaba. Llevaba una camiseta declarando en inglés que ‘Punk is not dead!’ y auriculares negros. Salía la música tan fuerte que José Luís pensó por un momento que se había entrado a la discoteca.

Por suerte, se distraía a José Luís una madre que andaba en el andén arrastrando a su niña detrás de ella como una pesada bolsa de patatas.

“Pero no quiero ir a Madrid,” protestó la niña, luchando contra las lágrimas.

“¡Irás y lo disfrutarás!,” respondió la madre, intentando terminar la conversación.

“Pero... pero...” discutió la niña, escapando con su madre del alcance del oído de José Luís.

Mientras que se alejaron de los otros pasajeros pontenciales, pasaron una esquina cubierta por las sombras y la oscuridad olvidada. Al parsarla, a lo mejor no hacían caso del hombre sentado en el banco. José Luís le veía solamente debido al reflejo de la luz del cigarrillo que incendía cuando se le daba una calada. El humo rodeaba su cara poco iluminada.

Llevaba traje azul, zapatos italianos y un sombrero bombín. José Luís veía que él sí se reía. Pero se enfrascaba en el periódico. Y a lo mejor, se reía a causa del dibujo político que salió en esa edición. José Luís sonrió al pensarlo. Realmente era tan gracioso el dibujo.

Los pensamientos de José Luís regresaron al presente cuando escuchó el silbido del tren entrando a la estación. El tren paró con fuerza y la gente en el andén se apelotonó para subir. José Luís intentó evitar chocarse con la gente que se bajaba del tren, pero fue imposible eludir a todos.

Al sentarse en su asiento asignado, se sentía que había pasado los últimos momentos como torero en una corrida de toros. Se quedó sudoroso y agotado pero por lo menos respiraba con tranquilidad.

“Me cierro los ojos brevamente,” pensó José Luís al sentir el movimiento del tren. La oscuridad parecía interminable y su mente no tenía ningun problema para perderse en las tinieblas. “Nos embarcamos en una gran adventura.”

B.T.I.

Another fake episode of Bart and Dan. Why is it fake? Because the Bart and Dan TV show isn't real, thus making what really happens in our actual lives fake to the characters in Bart and Dan, and to the rest of you. So what if there are over 20 episodes stored somewhere on my hard drive? It doesn’t mean it exists.

Real or not, this is a glimpse of our life at work. Enjoy.


Somewhere in-between saving the world and answering the phone, an idea gently wrests on the furrowed brow of Daniel Criddle.

Dan: wouldn't be silly if chickens ‘barted’ instead of ‘clucked’?

baaaa...
baaaaaart
baaa.. ba. baaaaart.
baa BAAART!

Bart: Silly indeed. But what if every animal everywhere barted?

Daniel :

BAAaart-bart-bart-bart-bart. Those are the ugly ducks in Spain…
BAAAAAAAART!! That was a bear.
..... …. That was a giraffe

Bart: Giraffes have to make some sort of noise.

Daniel:

*rustling leaves noise
*long tongue slurp noise
*whacking necks together noise

Bart: ahhhh yes… who could forget the *whacking necks together noise?

Daniel: Unfortunately, none of those sound remotely like bart. … but whacking necks would probably be closest.

Bart: I guess we'll just have to kill off all the giraffes for not conforming to our new mold of animal society.

Daniel: Not necessary, they'll just think in bart.

Bart: mmmm... that almost works... and I’d rather deal with semi-conforming rebel giraffes than deal with giraffe blood. It’s sticky, and smells like burnt nose hair. The only noticeable loophole is that giraffe thoughts are indiscernible. If they decide to plot an uprising by falling back to their old giraffe thoughts... we would never know. And then... BAM. Giraffe riot. Not quite zoot suit riot. But close.

Daniel: But that's the beauty of bart thought. Once it is implemented, the simplicity of bart makes it impossible to overcome. It’s not nearly as complicated as heehaaaw or meow with their dual syllables. And oink has the terrible schwa that can make pronunciation difficult for some. Bart is just consonant vowel consonant. There is no animal code that can override that.

Bart: Yes, but moo could cause some static in bart thought... it is very easy to code and is monosyllabic... not to mention very fun to say... and even funner to think...

Daniel: True, the cows would pose a weak spot in bart think implementation, but we have the strength of all the other farm animals on our side. And we control their milking schedules.

LeFall of LeBron

Dear LeBron James,

I’m not going to hate on you like all of your so-called fans around the world. Because I don’t hate you. I think you’re a great guy. I think you’re beyond talented… and to say you are gifted would be an understatement. But it’s not what people think about you that defines you, it’s the choices you make.

And you just made the biggest decision of your life.

While nearly the entire basketball world stopped for days (Phoenix, LA Lakers and OKC being the few exceptions) while it anxiously awaited your decision about free-agency to come down from atop your throne, I almost thought your reign extended beyond the NBA kingdom. I almost thought you could stop the daily doldrums of everyday life. I almost thought you might stop crime… or the war… or the oil spill. I have to admit, you had me for a second…

You see, I had forgotten about all of those things. Maybe it was your charm, your class, or even your goodness that made me think you held the world in your hands.

But then you had to go and ruin the magic. All of the drama, the theatrics, the spectacle…. It was all gone when you went to ESPN to ask them to do a special on you and your decision. You gave yourself away.

I knew instantly you were leaving Cleveland. There’s no way you would end weeks and weeks of anticipation and speculation by announcing you were ‘just staying in Cleveland’. And on live TV? Not a chance in the world. It was too late for that. You already had too much momentum behind you… too many people wondering about the possibilities, too many people looking forward to you in a different jersey.

The question was: which jersey?

Cleveland? You and I both know that if you were to stay in Cleveland, you’d never win a championship. The Cavs tried to bring in the right pieces to help their cause: Shaq and Antawn Jamison. They knew if they could get you your ring this year, you just might stay in Cleveland forever. But Cleveland fans should have known that your early second round exit from the playoffs was only the beginning of their heartbreak. They had their chance.

LA Clippers and share LA, and the Western Conference, with Kobe? Never.

New Jersey and play for the worst team while it rebuilds and wait around until it moves to Brooklyn in a couple years? Not even an after-thought.

Chicago and young, budding star DRose, with the possibility of luring Dwade or Bosh? Not when you would live every second of every day under the omnipresent shadow of the Greatest of All Time: #23.

That would leave you with two teams: the New York Knicks or the Miami Heat. Go ahead, pick one.

If you choose the Knicks, you get a max contract. Millions upon millions of dollars. You live in the Big Apple, and with your celebrity and status, I can only begin to imagine the perks of being you and living there. You are able to build your brand, and network with the top companies in the world. You begin to explore areas of your life outside of basketball.

You instantly make the Knicks a playoff team (remember they’re in the East). You pair up with Amare Stoudemire and through D’Antoni’s offensive brilliance you make the Knicks one of the most exciting teams in the NBA. You are given full control of the system and average 35-10-10 per game, the first triple double average since Oscar Robertson, to bring home your second MVP. You may not win the championship the first year, but you have a chance to sign Carmelo Anthony after next season (remember he’s from Brooklyn). And there’s no doubt to the reason why the Knicks are winning: you.

But most importantly, you resurrect one of the greatest stages in the history of basketball. You bring back the glitz and glam of Madison Square Garden. You make New York more than a baseball town again. You make the Knicks relevant again. You extend your reign by conquering one of the most prominent cities in the world.

Now, if you choose the Heat, you take a pay cut. You join forces with Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh, your friends and former Team USA teammates. You probably won’t win another MVP, because you’re playing along two other superstars, but the Heat are instantly considered front-runners to win the Eastern Conference. You are title contenders.

But choosing to start a new season in Miami may also be the end of your legacy. You’re going to have to share the ball with two other players who love to have the ball in their hands. Your stats will suffer. And real legends make the big shots in crunch time. And we both know who’s going to have the ball when the game is on the line… all you’ll be able to do is watch.

And without you even knowing, the reins of the kingdom have slipped from your grasp.

Sorry, ‘Bron. You may have been the King of Cleveland, and you more than likely would have been the King of the New York. But there’s one thing that will never be under your reign… Miami. That’s Dwade’s team. That’s Dwade’s town. That’s Dwade’s world. And it looks like this year you’ll be doing nothing more than playing second or third fiddle as a servant in the real King’s court.

Sincerely,
Me

iQuote with my iQuill on Myquest

Escape by the stroke of the quill will take you farther than any man-made contraption. I think Socrates said that once. Or it could have been me. Either way, someone said it... and then someone else quoted it. (That someone else might have been me as well... or, it might have been Socrates.)

Whatever your quest may be, just remember to use MIND BULLETS!