Mumbai Terror

The battle between Indian commandos and terrorists in Mumbai is eerily similar to the situation Tom Clancy described as the post-Cold War battle-ground:

Police said 119 people were killed and 315 were wounded when a small army of gunmen — at least some of whom arrived by sea — fanned out across Mumbai to attack sites popular with tourists and businessmen, including two luxury hotels.

Commandos were fighting room-to-room battles in the two hotels to rescue people trapped by the militants, police said.

[…]

Police said they had shot seven gunmen and arrested nine suspects. They said 12 policemen were killed, including Hemant Karkare, the chief of the police anti-terrorist squad in Mumbai.

The plot of the novel Rainbow Six is described in detail on Wikipedia and is not far from the above horror. A subsequent video game by the same name allowed players to try and liberate hostages (as a member of Rainbow) from museums, ships, hotels, and similar venues.

Let Not Mankind Bogart Love

Willie Nelson in A Colbert Christmas sings of peace on earth. The graphics are excellent, as is his command of the lyrics:

What, no mention of biowillie (biodiesel)?

Feist’s rendition of “Please Be Patient…Due to Increased Prayer Amounts” is aslo amusing, especially the part where she explains that prayers will be taken in the order that they were received. Sadly, she does not reach the lyrical achievement of Nelson, but I think that is because of the format she was given. I wish (not pray, mind you) that Feist had been allowed more of her usual punchy rhythmic upbeat style instead of a syrupy formulaic hymnal, but I suspect Colbert was going for a different style of parody.

El Amenazado / The Threatened One

by Jorge Luis Borges (translated by Katya Rascovsky)

El Amenazado

Es el amor. Tendré que ocultarme o que huir.

Crecen los muros de su cárcel, como en un sueño atroz. La hermosa máscara ha cambiado, pero como siempre es la única. ¿De qué me servirán mis talismanes: el ejercicio de las letras, la vaga erudición, el aprendizaje de las palabras que usó el áspero Norte para cantar sus mares y sus espadas, la serena amistad, las galerías de la Biblioteca, las cosas comunes, los hábitos, el joven amor de mi madre, la sombra militar de mis muertos, la noche intemporal, el sabor del sueño?

Estar contigo o no estar contigo es la medida de mi tiempo.

Ya el cántaro se quiebra sobre la fuente, ya el hombre se levanta a la voz del ave, ya se han oscurecido los que miran por las ventanas, pero la sombra no ha traído la paz.

Es, ya lo sé, el amor: la ansiedad y el alivio de oír tu voz, la espera y la memoria, el horror de vivir en lo sucesivo.

Es el amor con sus mitologías, con sus pequeñas magias inútiles.

Hay una esquina por la que no me atrevo a pasar.

Ya los ejércitos me cercan, las hordas.
(Esta habitación es irreal, ella no la ha visto.)

El nombre de una mujer me delata.

Me duele una mujer en todo el cuerpo.

The Threatened One

It is love. I will have to hide or flee.

The walls of its prison grow, like an atrocious dream. The beautiful mask has changed, but as always it is unique. What purpose will my talismans serve: the exercise of letters, the vague erudition, the learning of words used by the rough North to sing of seas and swords, the serene friendship, the galleries of the Library, the common things, the habits, the young love of my mother, the military shadow of my dead, the intemporal night, the taste of sleep?

Being with you or without you is the measure of my time.

Now the pitcher breaks above the stream, now man rises to the voice of the bird, those who view through the windows have darkened, but shade has not brought peace.

It is, I know, love: the anxiety and relief of hearing your voice, the wait and memory, the horror of living in succession.

It is love with its mythologies, its little useless magic.

There is a corner I do not dare pass.

Now the armies surround me, the hordes.
(This room is unreal; she has not seen it.)

The name of a woman betrays me.

A woman hurts throughout my body.

My Purple Past

by Deerhoof

Tell me about your purple past story
Will your story make me feel sorry?
Cowboy in a pool
Leaping in the boots
Turn around around
Come around around

Tell me about your purple past story
Will your story make me feel merry?
Sailor on a horse
Rockin’ back and forth
Turn around around
Come around around

Mr Tailor came to both cowboy and sailor man
He brought cowboy hat for sailor man
Yee-haw Yee-haw
But I’m a sailor
He brought sailor cap for cowboy
Heeve-ho Heeve-ho
Horse god gave hot aura for sailor man
Ocean gave cool halo for cowboy
Come on sing a song of my purple past!