
On Friday I go to work by public transport. I say this for two reasons: first because I believe that this data is related to what I'm counting and, second, to give you grief. Sentence them because I live far from the gigs, and it forces me to wake up on Friday three quarters of an hour before my usual time, breaking my abito h of sleep. And if the early start was not enough punishment, it is normal to touch me the way up, because to those hours on the train are always many more passengers than seats and my morning slumber I am deprived of the necessary flexibility to anticipate all those fellow travelers, even if they fall exhausted at eleven o'clock at night and sleep in the theater listening to songs from "Les Miserables" in the mornings are able to pounce on the empty seats as if they were beasts to hunt their prey. Are disómnicos per day, as "Belle de Jour" and hipersómnicos night, which nuns closing, so a eritropoyésico, like me, is not prepared to fight against them ar for a seat in the early hours of morning.

Les Miserables have always wanted things to change. I did the chorus to sing Bob Dylan and him that times were changing, hoping that things would soon improve. We were so optimistic that we thought that changes could only be synonymous with improvement. Were the most pious comfort in prayer and in compliance with the principles of the Church, when they should have relieved his guilty conscience twenty dollars pouring into the brush of the church, away from the pleasures of the flesh or mortifying their bodies with sackcloth. Others gave their lives to the cause of the proletariat. But today no longer believe in the future of Marxism and the Communist Party general secretary, and roll life eternal not swallowed or Rouco Varela. No improvement is expected. If anything, the only changes we can hope for now are reforms to our lives worse and delay a little time left to go to hell all this racket. Today the miserable (and now I do not mean simple people and unhappy people but ambitious, wicked and mean) are devoted to speculate crops in Southeast Asia in the second half of this century, to warn us that we must work more and earn less, or writing articles in newspapers explaining the benefits that the earthquake in Japan may report back to the pockets of the most savvy investors. A stream appears on the horizon proclaiming that the world's problems are due to the lack of values, immigrants, taxes, condom use and gay marriage. The Tea Party, Marine Le Pen and the Episcopal Conference. Become the world, the flesh and the devil. The one we expected.

This topic has always caused concern even has come to occupy space in the lyrics of some famous songs of modern bands and important in our country. And to see that we do not invent anything here, and we bring the issues well documented we put, by way of example, a fragment of a beautiful song from "The Braves" called "When the sun" and appeared in the 1967 LP "The boys with the girls." I had a single (actually not a single, was a disc of four songs named EP, Extended Play), on side A "Boys in the girls" and "Come When I Call" and Face B: "When the sun" and "Bye, by and, baby." A highly recommended disc. Now sing:
"I met a little girl who was a special case
day As things came out
badly And I must confess that in broad daylight was never good, eh, eh
But at sunset, But when the sun is as
o p
stop a train At sunset
the morning, walking, shuffling going
Despeinada and badly dressed, you see it
And I wondered which side could have
But as the sun,
But when the sun is
to stop a train As the sun "
More clear water. The girl in the song, which was obviously eritropoyésica, he revolutionized the metabolism at sunset. It is very well known. On the day all are disappointments and heartbreaks, but when darkness dominate the world, women eritropoyésicas forget his temper, get into a car and starts the frenzy. They are not the belle de jour. They are the queens of the night. Tino Casal sang it: "Stop, my fairy guest star victim of indifference get in the car, queen of the night and forget your bad mood" My friend stretches in his chair. On stage actors of the play differently live on before the revolution. All sing in chorus "One more day" and ends the first act. I first saw "Les Miserables" in London in 1992 and even then I thought it was a remarkable adaptation of a great novel that narrates over fifteen hundred pages the lives of a series of characters during the first nineteenth century. is hard to condense a work so extensive and so complex in a musical, but the authors, in my opinion, get it fully. The story is interesting, but also the production of Madrid has added a spectacular scenery clearly outperforms that I saw in London For almost twenty years. The wonderful scenery lead us, no waiting, no downtime changes to a slave ship where he rows a prisoner Jean Valjean, a factory, a brothel where the unfortunate Fantine shows their desperation, to a room that is held a trial, a tavern, to the barricades where the revolutionaries were faced with the forces of King Charles X during the July Revolution of 1830, the sewers of Paris, or a bridge where it is consumed Javert's suicide in a of the most spectacular of the work. The songs are beautiful. Some of them are so popular that they can say, without exaggeration, that are already part of popular culture recent years. Here I bring you some of them to come over, if you feel like a good time listening:
I Dreamed A Dream
Master of the House
On My Own One Day More
So far so good, but the trouble is that in Madrid these beautiful songs you have just heard are interpreted by a group of singers who do good to the less endowed contestants Idol. In the Barbican Theatre in London, the role of Fantine was played by the wonderful Ruthie Henshall: "I had a dream my life Would Be So Different from this hell I'm living ... . 'In Madrid it's a girl cat voice. It also goes around our representative at Eurovision last year, that he sang "something little, uo, uo, uo. This case it is the English beat us by a landslide. Do not know if this is because the casting was done by a deaf, or who have been given more importance to physical actors to his vocal, or no more wax than they burn. The latter does not think so. In any event, these performers on the scene only gets that night disómnicos representation we spend thinking about stupid things then we will write a blog, while slumbering peacefully beside us the hipersómnicos.
and finished drama critic, and only have room for comment Gourmet, essential in these articles. There he goes. As the schedule made it impossible to function we ask ourselves a conventional dinner in a nearby restaurant, we went to MUI, which is the best bar in Madrid or joke, but not bad. To me what I liked everything we ate was the ration of bacon with egg yolk.
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