〜 Kakaoen min har kjølna mens eg var ute og flaug. Ragnar Hovland
10.11.2010
01.11.2010
28.10.2010
Spotify i et nøtteskall?
(fra Twitter)
@Kvalshaug Vidar Kvalshaug
Jobber alle hardt med best of 2010-listene på Spotify? Jeg publiserer tidlig i desember #musikktips
"Jeg publiserer tidlig i desember", skriver VK i kontortiden på forlaget der han jobber. "Publiserer", altså. Med et smil ser for meg ivrige gutter og jenter som, helt oppslukt, sitter og klipper og limer og lager spillelister på Spotify. Det minner meg om da jeg var fjorten, og konkurrerte med de andre gutta om å gjøre inntrykk på jentene og bli mest mulig populær og ettertraktet. Jenter gjorde også det, på sin måte. Det er i slike øyeblikk at verden blir liten, søt og rar.
(fra Twitter)
@Kvalshaug Vidar Kvalshaug
Jobber alle hardt med best of 2010-listene på Spotify? Jeg publiserer tidlig i desember #musikktips
"Jeg publiserer tidlig i desember", skriver VK i kontortiden på forlaget der han jobber. "Publiserer", altså. Med et smil ser for meg ivrige gutter og jenter som, helt oppslukt, sitter og klipper og limer og lager spillelister på Spotify. Det minner meg om da jeg var fjorten, og konkurrerte med de andre gutta om å gjøre inntrykk på jentene og bli mest mulig populær og ettertraktet. Jenter gjorde også det, på sin måte. Det er i slike øyeblikk at verden blir liten, søt og rar.
26.10.2010
Abney Park - Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll
Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll
There she is on the stage
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
Her spring is sprung
And dances done
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
In the morning, he twists the key quite hard
And ticking, she's brought to boil
"Relevée, my sweet, on point, en garde!"
Her innards twang as they uncoil
Herr Doktor's fingertips trace by
On craquelature from every fall
The daylight made to race right by
With paint and paste and stitch and awl
"Patient, patient, bumblebee,
Soon your audience admire
A shapely arabesque or three
I'll wind you up, you'll never tire."
Starry tutu, sullen moon
A frozen carmine mouth
Twinkles as she jerks and swoons
The lady is ushered out
[Gentlemen, this fallen angel is the illegitimate daughter of art and science. A modern marvel of engineering, clockworks elevated to the very natural process which even now is in your blood, racing, your eyes flashing at such irreproachable beauty. Here is Gaia, here is Eve, here is Lilith, and I stand before you as her father. Sprung fully-formed from my brow, dewy and sweet; she can be yours and yours again, for her flesh is the incorruptible pale to be excused from the wages of sin.]
(winds her up)
And as the sack cloth, sodden, slumps
Beneath these chipped and china limbs
The sour flesh pines, grunts and thumps
"Step right up, boys, tuppence for a spin!"
Herr Drosselmeyer's Doll
There she is on the stage
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
Her spring is sprung
And dances done
Spinning as she sprawls
Thank God the curtains fall
In the morning, he twists the key quite hard
And ticking, she's brought to boil
"Relevée, my sweet, on point, en garde!"
Her innards twang as they uncoil
Herr Doktor's fingertips trace by
On craquelature from every fall
The daylight made to race right by
With paint and paste and stitch and awl
"Patient, patient, bumblebee,
Soon your audience admire
A shapely arabesque or three
I'll wind you up, you'll never tire."
Starry tutu, sullen moon
A frozen carmine mouth
Twinkles as she jerks and swoons
The lady is ushered out
[Gentlemen, this fallen angel is the illegitimate daughter of art and science. A modern marvel of engineering, clockworks elevated to the very natural process which even now is in your blood, racing, your eyes flashing at such irreproachable beauty. Here is Gaia, here is Eve, here is Lilith, and I stand before you as her father. Sprung fully-formed from my brow, dewy and sweet; she can be yours and yours again, for her flesh is the incorruptible pale to be excused from the wages of sin.]
(winds her up)
And as the sack cloth, sodden, slumps
Beneath these chipped and china limbs
The sour flesh pines, grunts and thumps
"Step right up, boys, tuppence for a spin!"
22.10.2010
21.10.2010
14.10.2010
«one true sentence» then another
Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence.ERNEST HEMINGWAY (til Francis Scott Fitzgerald)
One Train May Hide Another
Kenneth Koch
In a poem, one line may hide another line,
As at a crossing, one train may hide another train.
That is, if you are waiting to cross
The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at
Least after the first train is gone. And so when you read
Wait until you have read the next line--
Then it is safe to go on reading.
In a family one sister may conceal another,
So, when you are courting, it's best to have them all in view
Otherwise in coming to find one you may love another.
One father or one brother may hide the man,
If you are a woman, whom you have been waiting to love.
So always standing in front of something the other
As words stand in front of objects, feelings, and ideas.
One wish may hide another. And one person's reputation may hide
The reputation of another. One dog may conceal another
On a lawn, so if you escape the first one you're not necessarily safe;
One lilac may hide another and then a lot of lilacs and on the Appia
Antica one tomb
May hide a number of other tombs. In love, one reproach may hide another,
One small complaint may hide a great one.
One injustice may hide another--one colonial may hide another,
One blaring red uniform another, and another, a whole column. One bath
may hide another bath
As when, after bathing, one walks out into the rain.
One idea may hide another: Life is simple
Hide Life is incredibly complex, as in the prose of Gertrude Stein
One sentence hides another and is another as well. And in the laboratory
One invention may hide another invention,
One evening may hide another, one shadow, a nest of shadows.
One dark red, or one blue, or one purple--this is a painting
By someone after Matisse. One waits at the tracks until they pass,
These hidden doubles or, sometimes, likenesses. One identical twin
May hide the other. And there may be even more in there! The obstetrician
Gazes at the Valley of the Var. We used to live there, my wife and I, but
One life hid another life. And now she is gone and I am here.
A vivacious mother hides a gawky daughter. The daughter hides
Her own vivacious daughter in turn. They are in
A railway station and the daughter is holding a bag
Bigger than her mother's bag and successfully hides it.
In offering to pick up the daughter's bag one finds oneself confronted by
the mother's
And has to carry that one, too. So one hitchhiker
May deliberately hide another and one cup of coffee
Another, too, until one is over-excited. One love may hide another love
or the same love
As when "I love you" suddenly rings false and one discovers
The better love lingering behind, as when "I'm full of doubts"
Hides "I'm certain about something and it is that"
And one dream may hide another as is well known, always, too. In the
Garden of Eden
Adam and Eve may hide the real Adam and Eve.
Jerusalem may hide another Jerusalem.
When you come to something, stop to let it pass
So you can see what else is there. At home, no matter where,
Internal tracks pose dangers, too: one memory
Certainly hides another, that being what memory is all about,
The eternal reverse succession of contemplated entities. Reading
A Sentimental Journey look around
When you have finished, for Tristram Shandy, to see
If it is standing there, it should be, stronger
And more profound and theretofore hidden as Santa Maria Maggiore
May be hidden by similar churches inside Rome. One sidewalk
May hide another, as when you're asleep there, and
One song hide another song; a pounding upstairs
Hide the beating of drums. One friend may hide another, you sit at the
foot of a tree
With one and when you get up to leave there is another
Whom you'd have preferred to talk to all along. One teacher,
One doctor, one ecstasy, one illness, one woman, one man
May hide another. Pause to let the first one pass.
You think, Now it is safe to cross and you are hit by the next one. It
can be important
To have waited at least a moment to see what was already there.
In a poem, one line may hide another line,
As at a crossing, one train may hide another train.
That is, if you are waiting to cross
The tracks, wait to do it for one moment at
Least after the first train is gone. And so when you read
Wait until you have read the next line--
Then it is safe to go on reading.
In a family one sister may conceal another,
So, when you are courting, it's best to have them all in view
Otherwise in coming to find one you may love another.
One father or one brother may hide the man,
If you are a woman, whom you have been waiting to love.
So always standing in front of something the other
As words stand in front of objects, feelings, and ideas.
One wish may hide another. And one person's reputation may hide
The reputation of another. One dog may conceal another
On a lawn, so if you escape the first one you're not necessarily safe;
One lilac may hide another and then a lot of lilacs and on the Appia
Antica one tomb
May hide a number of other tombs. In love, one reproach may hide another,
One small complaint may hide a great one.
One injustice may hide another--one colonial may hide another,
One blaring red uniform another, and another, a whole column. One bath
may hide another bath
As when, after bathing, one walks out into the rain.
One idea may hide another: Life is simple
Hide Life is incredibly complex, as in the prose of Gertrude Stein
One sentence hides another and is another as well. And in the laboratory
One invention may hide another invention,
One evening may hide another, one shadow, a nest of shadows.
One dark red, or one blue, or one purple--this is a painting
By someone after Matisse. One waits at the tracks until they pass,
These hidden doubles or, sometimes, likenesses. One identical twin
May hide the other. And there may be even more in there! The obstetrician
Gazes at the Valley of the Var. We used to live there, my wife and I, but
One life hid another life. And now she is gone and I am here.
A vivacious mother hides a gawky daughter. The daughter hides
Her own vivacious daughter in turn. They are in
A railway station and the daughter is holding a bag
Bigger than her mother's bag and successfully hides it.
In offering to pick up the daughter's bag one finds oneself confronted by
the mother's
And has to carry that one, too. So one hitchhiker
May deliberately hide another and one cup of coffee
Another, too, until one is over-excited. One love may hide another love
or the same love
As when "I love you" suddenly rings false and one discovers
The better love lingering behind, as when "I'm full of doubts"
Hides "I'm certain about something and it is that"
And one dream may hide another as is well known, always, too. In the
Garden of Eden
Adam and Eve may hide the real Adam and Eve.
Jerusalem may hide another Jerusalem.
When you come to something, stop to let it pass
So you can see what else is there. At home, no matter where,
Internal tracks pose dangers, too: one memory
Certainly hides another, that being what memory is all about,
The eternal reverse succession of contemplated entities. Reading
A Sentimental Journey look around
When you have finished, for Tristram Shandy, to see
If it is standing there, it should be, stronger
And more profound and theretofore hidden as Santa Maria Maggiore
May be hidden by similar churches inside Rome. One sidewalk
May hide another, as when you're asleep there, and
One song hide another song; a pounding upstairs
Hide the beating of drums. One friend may hide another, you sit at the
foot of a tree
With one and when you get up to leave there is another
Whom you'd have preferred to talk to all along. One teacher,
One doctor, one ecstasy, one illness, one woman, one man
May hide another. Pause to let the first one pass.
You think, Now it is safe to cross and you are hit by the next one. It
can be important
To have waited at least a moment to see what was already there.
06.10.2010
Be Ruthless About Protecting Writing Days
Be ruthless about protecting writing days, i.e., do not cave in to endless requests to have "essential" and "long overdue" meetings on those days. The funny thing is that, although writing has been my actual job for several years now, I still seem to have to fight for time in which to do it. Some people do not seem to grasp that I still have to sit down in peace and write the books, apparently believing that they pop up like mushrooms without my connivance. I must therefore guard the time allotted to writing as a Hungarian Horntail guards its firstborn egg.
J.K. ROWLING
J.K. ROWLING
05.10.2010
04.10.2010
30.09.2010
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen
Hoch stand der Sandorn am Strand von Hiddensee,
Micha, mein Micha und alles tat so weh,
dass die Kaninchen scheu schauten aus dem Bau,
so laut entlud sich mein Leid ins Himmelblau.
So böse stampfte mein nackter Fuß den Sand
und schlug ich von meiner Schulter deine Hand
Micha, mein Micha und alles tat so weh ,
tu das noch einmal, Micha, und ich geh!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, mein Michael,
Nun glaubt uns kein Mensch wie schön's hier war haha haha haha
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Tu tu tu tu tu tu ...
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Nun sitz ich wieder bei dir und mir zu Haus,
Und such die Fotos für's Fotoalbum aus,
Ich im Bikini und ich am FKK,
Ich frech im Mini, Landschaft ist auch da - ja
Aber, wie schrecklich, die Tränen kullern heiß.
Landschaft und Nina und alles nur schwarz-weiß,
Micha, mein Micha und alles tut so weh,
Tu das noch einmal, Micha und ich geh!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, mein Michael,
Nun glaubt uns kein Mensch wie schön's hier war haha haha haha
Du hast den Farbflim vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Tu tu tu tu tu tu ...
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen. Populær sang i det gamle DDR - jfr "du har glemt fargefilmen". Sangen er å finne på YouTube i flere versjoner med Nina Hagen. Jeg syns sort/hvitt versjonen (den er grå!) er den eneste riktige. Den var også Nina Hagens debut i en musikkvideo.
Hoch stand der Sandorn am Strand von Hiddensee,
Micha, mein Micha und alles tat so weh,
dass die Kaninchen scheu schauten aus dem Bau,
so laut entlud sich mein Leid ins Himmelblau.
So böse stampfte mein nackter Fuß den Sand
und schlug ich von meiner Schulter deine Hand
Micha, mein Micha und alles tat so weh ,
tu das noch einmal, Micha, und ich geh!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, mein Michael,
Nun glaubt uns kein Mensch wie schön's hier war haha haha haha
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Tu tu tu tu tu tu ...
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Nun sitz ich wieder bei dir und mir zu Haus,
Und such die Fotos für's Fotoalbum aus,
Ich im Bikini und ich am FKK,
Ich frech im Mini, Landschaft ist auch da - ja
Aber, wie schrecklich, die Tränen kullern heiß.
Landschaft und Nina und alles nur schwarz-weiß,
Micha, mein Micha und alles tut so weh,
Tu das noch einmal, Micha und ich geh!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, mein Michael,
Nun glaubt uns kein Mensch wie schön's hier war haha haha haha
Du hast den Farbflim vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Tu tu tu tu tu tu ...
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen, bei meiner Seel,
Alles blau und weiß und grün und später nicht mehr wahr!
Du hast den Farbfilm vergessen. Populær sang i det gamle DDR - jfr "du har glemt fargefilmen". Sangen er å finne på YouTube i flere versjoner med Nina Hagen. Jeg syns sort/hvitt versjonen (den er grå!) er den eneste riktige. Den var også Nina Hagens debut i en musikkvideo.
11.08.2010
04.08.2010
Jazz song "Bye Bye Blackbird" was first published in 1926. This version is from Public Enemies movie. Recordings of the song often include only the chorus; the verses are far less known.
Music: Ray Henderson
Lyrics: Mort Dixon
Gonna pack up all my care and woe,
Here I go swingin' low,
Bye bye blackbird.
Where somebody waits for me,
Sugar's sweet, so is he,
Bye bye blackbird.
No one here can love or understand me,
Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.
make my bed and light the light,
Ill be home late tonight,
Blackbird, bye bye.
Im gonna pack up all my cares and woe,
Here I go singin' low,
Bye bye blackbird.
Where somebody waits for me,
Sugar is sweet, so is he,
Bye bye blackbird.
No one here can love or understand me,
Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.
Make my bed and light the light,
Ill be home late tonight
Blackbird, bye bye.
Bye Bye Blackbird Public Enemies Jazz Johnny Depp
Music: Ray Henderson
Lyrics: Mort Dixon
Gonna pack up all my care and woe,
Here I go swingin' low,
Bye bye blackbird.
Where somebody waits for me,
Sugar's sweet, so is he,
Bye bye blackbird.
No one here can love or understand me,
Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.
make my bed and light the light,
Ill be home late tonight,
Blackbird, bye bye.
Im gonna pack up all my cares and woe,
Here I go singin' low,
Bye bye blackbird.
Where somebody waits for me,
Sugar is sweet, so is he,
Bye bye blackbird.
No one here can love or understand me,
Oh what hard luck stories, they all hand me.
Make my bed and light the light,
Ill be home late tonight
Blackbird, bye bye.
Bye Bye Blackbird Public Enemies Jazz Johnny Depp
02.08.2010
She cried to the southern wind
About a love that was sure to end
Every dream in her heart was gone
Headin' for a Showdown
Bad dreamer, what's your name
Looks like we're ridin' on the same train
Looks as through there'll be more pain
There's gonna be a Showdown
And it's rainin' all over the world
It's raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
She came to me like a friend
She blew in on a southern wind
Now my heart is turned to stone again
There's gonna be a Showdown
Save me, oh save me
It's unreal, the suffering
There's gonna be a Showdown
And it's rainin' all over the world
It's raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
Electric Light Orchestra - Showdown
About a love that was sure to end
Every dream in her heart was gone
Headin' for a Showdown
Bad dreamer, what's your name
Looks like we're ridin' on the same train
Looks as through there'll be more pain
There's gonna be a Showdown
And it's rainin' all over the world
It's raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
She came to me like a friend
She blew in on a southern wind
Now my heart is turned to stone again
There's gonna be a Showdown
Save me, oh save me
It's unreal, the suffering
There's gonna be a Showdown
And it's rainin' all over the world
It's raining all over the world
Tonight, the longest night
Electric Light Orchestra - Showdown
01.08.2010
What a drag it is getting old
Kids are different today,
I hear evry mother say
Mother needs something today to calm her down
And though shes not really ill
Theres a little yellow pill
She goes running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day
Things are different today,
I hear evry mother say
Cooking fresh food for a husbands just a drag
So she buys an instant cake and she burns her frozen steak
And goes running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And two help her on her way, get her through her busy day
Doctor please, some more of these
Outside the door, she took four more
What a drag it is getting old
Men just arent the same today
I hear evry mother say
They just dont appreciate that you get tired
Theyre so hard to satisfy, you can tranquilize your mind
So go running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And four help you through the night, help to minimize your plight
Doctor please, some more of these
Outside the door, she took four more
What a drag it is getting old
Lifes just much too hard today,
I hear evry mother say
The pusuit of happiness just seems a bore
And if you take more of those, you will get an overdose
No more running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
They just helped you on your way, through your busy dying day
Jagger/Richards: Mother's Little Helper
Kids are different today,
I hear evry mother say
Mother needs something today to calm her down
And though shes not really ill
Theres a little yellow pill
She goes running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And it helps her on her way, gets her through her busy day
Things are different today,
I hear evry mother say
Cooking fresh food for a husbands just a drag
So she buys an instant cake and she burns her frozen steak
And goes running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And two help her on her way, get her through her busy day
Doctor please, some more of these
Outside the door, she took four more
What a drag it is getting old
Men just arent the same today
I hear evry mother say
They just dont appreciate that you get tired
Theyre so hard to satisfy, you can tranquilize your mind
So go running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
And four help you through the night, help to minimize your plight
Doctor please, some more of these
Outside the door, she took four more
What a drag it is getting old
Lifes just much too hard today,
I hear evry mother say
The pusuit of happiness just seems a bore
And if you take more of those, you will get an overdose
No more running for the shelter of a mothers little helper
They just helped you on your way, through your busy dying day
Jagger/Richards: Mother's Little Helper
22.06.2010
11.02.2010
Ikke en Dinamo Story
Det følgende er en ikke hundre prosent logisk ytring.
Ketil Bjørnstad hadde en kronikk i Aftenposten 9. februar, der han flagget sterk bekymring over fri diktning over avdøde menneskers liv. Han går så langt som å kalle dette en ny form for kunstnerisk og litterær nekrofili.
Det er en temmelig dyster formulering, som aksentueres i spørsmålet ”Er det da bare et tidsspørsmål før vi får en dramaserie om kong Olavs hemmelige kjærlighetsliv etter kronprinsesse Märthas død?”
Godtfolk leser biografier minst like gjerne som romaner, og at en biograf ikke behøver å sammenlignes med en sopp som vokser på gravlunden, har Carlos Baker, Tor Bomann-Larsen, Robert Ferguson, Ingar Sletten Kolloen og mange flere, bevist. Men hva med denne:
William Shakespeare. His life and work. Av Anthony Holden. Omtale: Forfatteren av biografien tar for seg, i tillegg til Shakespeares litterære produksjon, hans barndom og oppvekst, hans ekteskap med Anne Hathaway, forelskelse og sjalusi. Har stikkordregister. © DnBB AS Bokklubbpris: 99,- (portofritt)
Leveringstid: 10-20 dager
Jeg har ikke lest boka, og grunnen til at jeg tar denne utgivelsen med her; jeg kunne sikkert ha funnet bedre eksempler; er bokklubbens velplasserte hint om mulige pikanterier på området ekteskap, forelskelse og sjalusi. I tillegg til at forfatteren (ifølge bokklubben står det trykt på omslaget til boka) har ønsket å ”create a fresh, vivid portrait”. Hva betyr nå det, og hvorfor angår dette meg?
Det er blant annet fordi jeg har diktet fritt og varmt omkring brokker av en avdød forfatters liv og arbeid; riktig nok i det helt lille format, og gudbedre henlagt til en, for de fleste av oss, så fjern by som Lima, Peru. Det er i fortellingen jungel.bok, Biblioteket Gasspedal 2003, og i ny og større utgave fra 2009, og mannens navn er José María Arguedas. Samt at jeg tok utgangspunkt i Ludwig Wittgensteins helt spesielle tilstedeværelse gjennom noen år i Skjolden, i et åpent forum på Underskog.no, i det som snart utviklet seg til det konseptuelle tekstarbeidet ”Wim Try(e) (1899-1923) – en minnebok”. (Mer enn 1100 tekstbidrag fra forfattere, musikere og andre kunstnere, pluss andre interesserte. Påbegynt i 2008 og avsluttet i desember 2009. Et lite utdrag på 10 sider er trykt i litteraturtidsskriftet Vagant.) At enkelte navngitte aktører fra det offentlige rom opptrer her og der i kortprosa som jeg har satt navnet mitt på, blir litt annerledes, så det skal jeg ikke gå nærmere inn på.
Ketil Bjørnstad støtter helhjertet de mange som vil verne vårt populære kongehus mot ”fri diktning”. Han forteller hva han selv ikke har ønsket å gjøre i sine bøker, og det er helt greit. Utvilsomt har flere enn Bjørnstad (og, vil jeg si, undertegnede) motstått dypt uverdige fristelser i løpet av forfatterskapet, selv om fiksjonen og det virkelige liv faktisk er i stand til å ta tak i hverandre på forbløffende måter gjennom tilfeldighetenes spill. En kan sitte og dikte opp en helsemessig lidelse hos en romanfigur i anslaget til en planlagt utgivelse, og noen timer senere bli overrasket over at nettavisene bringer nyheten om at vår konge har havnet i nøyaktig det samme medisinske uføre. Om virkeligheten innhentet fiksjonen eller om det var omvendt, blir metafysikk, men for manuskriptets del fikk det som følge at det ble enda slankere enn opprinnelig tenkt. Si bare ikke at Kong Harald er uten innflytelse på litteraturen!
Bjørnstad har ikke noe imot at det kastes lys, så sant det vesentligste allerede har vært alminnelig kjent, på monarker og fyrster fra vår nære historie. For min del vil jeg trekke fram Leopold av Belgia som et kroneksempel på vel anvendte lyskastere; denne utsugeren av en konge og koloni-eier; og selvfølgelig også en høy stabel av engelske og danske konger og dronninger fra en forgangen tid. Om arbeidene til Shakespeare og Ibsen (jeg hopper over norske kunstnerbohemer, som er Bjørnstads spesiale) og P.O. Enquist, presiserer Bjørnstad at disse ”forholder seg til et stoff som er allment kjent og utdyper konfliktene. Fordi de historiske hendelsene faktisk er forelegget, og ikke nydiktede konflikter eller trekantdramaer.” (Vel, hva med den historiske Peer Gynt?)
Søppel er noe dritt og ekstremt uutryddelig: Vi lever i en Se og Hør-tid, og den markedsvennlige Willoch og den kulturkonservative Langslet la alt til rette for å skape TV2, med alt som det har medført av Steenstrøm, Idol, brystfagre værdamer og utarmet latter på boks. NRK skal spre MGP fra Telenor Arena i Bærum, tungt sponset av Telenor Group, og norsk MGP har havnet i de åpne hendene til reklamegudshuset Dinamo, der ute i det taktfast bejublende blå.
I kronikken er Bjørnstad som nevnt inne på at en avdeling (ledet av Rossiné) i NRK, kan komme til å "satse" på filmproduksjoner med omtrentlige royale tilsnitt utført med sløv saks.
Kanskje er det grunn til å spørre hvor langt NRK vil legge seg ut i bredden eller mot høyre, for å få enda flere seere. Jeg ønsker TV2 alt vondt. Men jeg vil helst ikke at NRK reiser til Bergen og kjøper Hotel Cæsar, frakter det skramlende hjem over fjellet for å pusse det opp til kongelig residens på plenen bak Chateu Neuf.
04.02.2010
Abonner på:
Innlegg (Atom)