Pericles Sánchez

David Lynch hablando sobre Música en el documental Beatles '64 es una maravilla. Da un gusto enorme verlo temblar de la emoción.

(Rewriting Zone of Interest for Netflix) “Wow geez, I can’t believe I have to go to work again at the Holocaust factory. At least it’s right next door.”

@malupenella No es la más terrorífica del mundo, pero sí es una maravilla: youtu.be/ICp4g9p_rgo?si…

El futuro se veía tan brillante hace una década🥲

Compras de temporada 🫶🏻

@davidfarrier Guess that's where this kid from Malcolm in the Middle ended up.

Hace unos días la Fitzy se fue en busca de la Gran Croqueta Cremosa del más allá, y el mundo ya nunca será tan miau miau. Los invito a levantar un trago en su honor y gritar "¡Fitz, deja de joder lo que estás jodiendo, coño!". Es lo que ella hubiera querido.

@malupenella Pues aparentemente no los venden en ningún lugar de la ciudad, voy a montar el negocio.

@malupenella Los tequeños de guayaba con queso son mi versión favorita de esa combinación.

Sé que estoy viejo porque ahora encuentro reconfortante darme cuenta de que soy más tonto de lo que pensaba.

“You want to know something? We are still in the Dark Ages. The Dark Ages – they haven’t ended yet.”

Un abrazo a la generación Goatse.

Is it time yet to revisit all the early heralding of the internet's pure democracy, of the idea of "citizen journalists," of each and every voice being able to be heard being a good thing for our ability to find truth and govern ourselves? Because having spent a previous career in newsrooms, as part of the cold, organized monolith that was our gatekeeping mainstream media, I know that we were often too herd-like and centrist, sometimes misled and sometimes capable of publishing horseshit on incomplete or contradictory data. Sometimes we got it dead wrong. But every day, I remember that the editors read the copy and tried to verify what they could and avoid what they could not. And no one could pay us a fucking dime to say what we didn't think was the story we thought we had. Fact is, I once tried to sneak a piece of celery through some ranch dip at some politician's fundraiser because the guy was late showing up to make a speech and I was starving. Another reporter smacked it out of my hand: "That's Harry McGuirk's celery." We had an ethic. We believed in our role, however flawed and vulnerable to error our work product might at times be. So fuck the influencers, fuck the pimps who bought them, fuck their rancid whoredom, and fuck a media culture that has bypassed the gatekeepers at least trying to hold to a core ethos. The marginalization and eventual death of old-fashioned journalism and what has ensued is going to be what ends our republic. And everyone who championed some purist vision of a post-mainstream media future is now and forever, officially, a rube.

@jmikenm No me quiero ir. 🥲

@PericlesDiceQue Qué belleza

Un día en Landmannalaugar y ya entiendo a Sigur Rós.

Cuando mi cerebro pasa más de 10 segundos en stand by pienso de manera espontánea exactamente esto:

Para mí puro Hopelandic hoy, gracias.

Live steady. Don’t fuck around. Give anything weird a wide berth—including people. It’s not worth it. I learned this the hard way, through brutal overindulgence.

Hoy, en memes que me rompen el cerebro:

Otro día, otra oportunidad de decirle a Maduro coñuetumadre.