Chrysta Bell

Chrysta Bell

I’ve mentioned before This Train, the album from David Lynch and Chrysta Bell, and the superb video for the song Bird Of Flames.

Somehow I missed the fact that there were at least two other videos for songs from the album. I don’t mind since I get to enjoy it now.

Beautiful in so many ways:

Rick and Morty


Rick and Morty exists since 2013 and it’s amazing! Created by Justin Roiland and Dan Harmon–the same writing genius that gave us Community–the series follows a young high school student called Morty, and his drunken, irresponsible, probably clinically depressed grandfather in their intergalactic (interdimensional?) adventures.

Watch the preview. If you like it you are going to love the series:

What We Do in the Shadows [2014]

what we do in the shadows poster from wikipedia

We saw this movie last weekend.
It’s a New Zealand production filmed as a (mock) documentary. It follows the lives of four modern vampires living in Wellington.

All characters have their appeal but Viago, with the way he looks at the camera, is particularly hilarious.

A must see if you like good humour and vampires.
96% on Rotten.


Letter to my father


You asked me for forgiveness briefly before you died. You were weak and tired and eaten by the cancer by then but it was probably the last day we saw you lucid and still yourself. You cried and I cried and I told you you had nothing to ask forgiveness for. And I meant it.
I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you didn’t get to understand you were good. That there is no sin. I’m sorry we didn’t let you see this.
I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you.
I wish we could have known each other. I think you would like me.

I remember that Summer you decided to show us your favourite movie: Easy Rider.
I remember how you turned to us, embarrassed as if you were a teenager, while the cemetery scene was in full swing, and said something like, “Maybe it has no interest to you. Maybe it’s boring you…”.
Oh man… In that moment I understood you were one of us. One of the searchers. I wanted to shout, “No! It’s perfect. I understand. Let’s just roll a joint, man.” I didn’t. I couldn’t. You wouldn’t, or maybe you would, but I was too cowardly to come out and be me in front of you. Something I learned from you.

There is no blame. There is no forgiveness because there was never any blame. I know this is a strange concept for a protestant to grasp.
I understand your sacrifice. I don’t have children but I understand. That’s a sacrifice I’m not willing to make. I saw yours and how it sucked the life out of you. With Easy Rider I saw it clearer—how we are made the same.
I’m sorry life sucked.

Thank you for choosing us. Thank you for making my life and my sister and brother’s life easy. Thank you for working so many hours. Thank you for figuring out how the world outside worked so you could provide for us. I know it was hard.
Thank you for overcoming your social anxiety and your fear of heights for us. (And G*d knows what else… We do, I’m sure.)

Thank you for my first camera. I will love it forever.
Thank you for my second and third camera. It was how you told me you loved me.
Thank you for insisting on music lessons.
And for teaching us to instinctively know the difference between good and bad sound engineering.

You were a fool. A protestant fool.
I know this because I’m a protestant fool myself. I no longer believe in a man-made god but the protestant is still in me.
I understand.
And I still cry.

In the end I cry for your lost life. The life you gave us.

Thank you. We love you.