Dogma (1999), Kevin Smith.
Yo les deseo a todos ustedes que alguna de esas puertas que están cerradas con candado se abran aunque sea por un rato. Vivimos, le decía yo hoy a un amigo que me hizo un entrevista, casi siempre solos y encerrados. Cada tanto una puerta se abre, un puente se establece. No les deseo yo una vida de puertas abiertas porque es insoportable, pero sí que cada tanto en medio de esa soledad se abra la puerta y se asome una cabeza amiga y diga “hola”. Pero esos milagros solo suceden en dos ocasiones: en ocasión del amor y en ocasión del arte. Ojalá que todos ustedes tenga momentos de amor y momentos de arte.
Here is New York, E.B. White.
The only one, The Cure.
20.06.08 MSG - Cured.
But how many times can I talk this way and wish "If only..."
Keep on making the same mistake
Keep on aching the same heartbreak
I wish "If only..."
But "If only...."
Is a wish too late...
Robert Smith, Cut Here, The Cure.
A un día...
3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION:
ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?
I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.
I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I'm bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.
I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don't perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat 400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.
I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.
But I have not yet gone to college.
They regard advertising as being a bit distasteful. I am no more distasteful than you. Yes, of course, I am selling. But so are all of you.
You are hustling and selling or trying to make people buy something. Your services or your point of view. Tupperware parties, for example. They are selling.
You clean your car to sell it, showing it to its best advantage. People even put bread in the oven to make their houses smell nice when they are trying to sell them. The way you dress when going for an interview or a party, or merely putting lipstick on. Aren't you selling yourself?
Your priest is selling. He is selling what he believes in. God.
The point is we are all selling.
We are all in advertising.
It's part of life.
It's not how good you are, it's how good you want to be. Paul Arden.
A Knight's Tale (2001), Brian Helgeland.
House MD, "Three Stories", Season 1 Episode 21.