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Εν αρχή ην "The Kinks":

Στη συνέχεια πήραν τα ηνία οι "Oasis" ~και ο Rhys Ifans~ :

Και μετά, το πήραν μυρουδιά οι Έλληνες:

.... και αποφάσισαν να κάνουν και sequel Υπερπαραγωγή:

(αν ξέχασα κάτι, πειτε μου!)

ΥΓ. Ναι. Το alter ego μου φοράει πάντα top hat ~και γυαλιά τύπου Ozzy. Και γιλέκο. Και μωβ πουκάμισο. Και ριγέ κάλτσες....)
ΥΓ2: Μετά τον Victor Hugo, ωραίος τρόπος για να καταποντίσεις το "επίπεδο" του blog σου (at least, συμπεριλαμβάνονται The Kinks και Oasis....)!
ΥΓ3: Αυτά.

ANArKH

"....And he flung away the hammer in a rage. Then he sank down so deeply on the arm-chair and the table, that Jehan lost him from view behind the great pile of manuscripts. For the space of several minutes, all that he saw was his fist convulsively clenched on a book. Suddenly, Dom Claude sprang up, seized a compass and engraved in silence upon the wall in capital letters, this Greek word

~ANArKH~.

"My brother is mad," said Jehan to himself; "it would have been far more simple to write ~Fatum~, every one is not obliged to know Greek."

The archdeacon returned and seated himself in his armchair, and placed his head on both his hands, as a sick man does, whose head is heavy and burning.

The student watched his brother with surprise. He did not know, he who wore his heart on his sleeve, he who observed only the good old law of Nature in the world, he who allowed his passions to follow their inclinations, and in whom the lake of great emotions was always dry, so freely did he let it off each day by fresh drains,--he did not know with what fury the sea of human passions ferments and boils when all egress is denied to it, how it accumulates, how it swells, how it overflows, how it hollows out the heart; how it breaks in inward sobs, and dull convulsions, until it has rent its dikes and burst its bed. The austere and glacial envelope of Claude Frollo, that cold surface of steep and inaccessible virtue, had always deceived Jehan. The merry scholar had never dreamed that there was boiling lava, furious and profound, beneath the snowy brow of AEtna."

Victor Hugo, Notre Dame de Paris.

Προχθές, επέστρεψα από ένα ταξίδι στο Παρίσι. Προφανώς πήγα και στη Notre Dame και ανέβηκα και τα 387 σκαλοπάτια μέχρι την κορυφή των πύργων της. Τα σκαλοπάτια ήταν στενά, απότομα, ελικωτά και ατελείωτα και στους τοίχους όντως υπήρχαν χαραγμένες λέξεις από χέρια ανθρώπων που έχουν πλέον ξεχαστεί... Η παρουσία του Claude Frollo με στοιχειώνει ακόμα και τώρα, αν και φανταστικό πρόσωπο......

Να, εδώ με τα καρντάσια.