Fairrytale of New York

I first heard this song by The Pogues here in England. I first really started listening to it and paid attention to the lyrics recently. And I fell in love with it. I usually prefer old Christmas carols and think fairly little of new songs. But this one is brilliant, it is grim and bitter like Christmas can be sometimes, it is not preachy one bit like too many Christmas songs are. Yet, it remains festive, in spite of the bitterness and the disappointments life brings us. So I am uploading it on Vraie Fiction. Enjoy.

The Body of an American

It is the 4th of July, Independence Day. And I barely noticed. I guess in the country the US declared their independence from, it should go pretty much unnoticed. It struck me today that, while I grew to lvoe American culture through its literature and TV, I have never been to the United States. Strange. And I thought, to commemorate it, that I should upload a song... But it would be pointless of uploading a patriotic song of a country I don't belong to. So I came up with, yet again, The Body of an American by The Pogues, even though I uploaded it before. I first heard it, of course, on The Wire, the greatest American drama, heck, the best drama, bare none. It might be more about Ireland than America, but there is something about the American dream in the song, and I find the "I'm a free born man of the USA" very powerful. So here it is.

A funeral song and an eulogy

Yes, I know, this is not exactly a cheerful title, but I think it will be a pleasant post, and anyway we are in the middle of the week after all. Maybe that's why I thought about funerals. It happens sometimes. There are many, many scenes in The Wire I love, this is one of them. There is the friendship of these brothers in arms, a sincere, honest eulogy of a man who did is job well (most of the time), the loss and sorrow drowned in alcohol and party atmosphere. Oh, and there is The Body of an American by The Pogues.

I don't know if I want a funeral wake like this when I die, but I do want something akin to this: a night in an Irish pub, good music (maybe more this song, as I am not a "free born man of the USA") and a eulogy that would not idealise me too much. There is no worst homage than a fake one. "He was called, he served, he is counted." That is all that needs to be said about any half decent man I think.