México y sus noticias visto por un transnacional californiano —producto de la S.E.P.
It’s Saturday Night Morning with Chris Matthews
Page 9: Un oasis de horror en medio de un desierto de aburrimiento. CHARLES BAUDELIERE .:. FCF0366F-BA35-4D2B-AE5F-A55FDB5760D7 🔊 If it seems out of place, Eye can guarantee you, that it is not, as for me, i can’t remember how long it took to read “Los Detectives” de Bolaño for the first time while inhabiting the dorms of a “school of mines” in El Paso, Texas, what i can tell all of the non-readers of this most non–consequential blog is that the second time around, it took u.s. from the end of February 2017 to around the time that Emmanuel Macron became the Eight President of France’s Fifth Republic, at the time we [the staff] were for the most part wasting away and loathing in a cheap Levallois hotel room in front of what would become the city‘s Music Conservatoire dorms. Today, for no particular reason, öüï begin to tackle the “crazy pilgrimage to Santa Teresa” of Bolaño before that chileno departed El Horizonte (Horizon City… look it up, ‘Amigos y Ciudadanos Morenos de Sicilia en Francia, —con Freddy Cats en Montreuil— 2011/2013*). 🔃 For the record, i, Armando Segovia, wanted to read this “little pamphlet” of 793 pages from the mind of Bolaño back in December 2010 when we [the staff] received the GO AHEAD from THE FRENCH CONSULATE in SANTA MONICA, CALIFORNIA to travel to Paris and, WATCH–RECORD–Critique–CONFRONT and THEN WRITE about Mexicans in France; however, Catch–22 (at the préfecture de police) and, LA FRONTERA DE CRISTAL (of Mexicans who collaborated with THE 6éme bureau of that dépôt) really–really–REALLY got in the way of u.s. checking out the only chileno (next to Victor Jara*) worth a damn, so 2666, here we are, WELCOME TO SUNLAND PARK (race track and casino On My Mind) in France.
* Salvador Allende excluded from this commentary, directed to LA CIA. Resentida.
Burying The Lead y Periodismo Salvaje
Eye likes his town .:. 107F5ABA-F2D5-43A3-B334-EA6AC9C60588 … with a little bit of Poison, just like Waits says.
Over the Queens
across The Brooklyn Bridge,
it’s time for:
The Weekend of Warren on the Bonds, and since the TimeLine on this most —MotherFucking— non-consequential blog is non–linear we send a signal to the fip Sirens and of course, esas Femmes d’Affaires at High Noon in Central frogmen times: Viva la libertad, just don’t be secretive or COY about it, ISSY, the next time we meet, Ms. Crow, Eye will not tell you that you are the only one, so please don’t expect a prince on a White Horse, ¿vale? because the sexes cut both ways.
It’s just a Hand in The Bush — No more tears .:. 165673C3-8640-4FC4-8BFE-F5F79F4A1AFA 🦵🏻Although it is illegal and against the law (two separate charges) to call a woman « Femme » in France, öüï the staff celebrate your conchas and, we [the staff] want nothing more than to see Her particular concha (in the role of a Young Cecily Strong) replace Le Coq de Notre Dame de Paris. Indeed, Franck, öüï do.
Let’s Play Deneuve, again… “el comandante está aqui”, dijo Paolo Conte, ¡sírvanle un Vermouth, chingada madre!
Featuring: Johnny Hallyday and an Agent with No Time to Die… and if youse a Freak like Colin Jost then you’ll understand the pitch. Let’s Play Hardball, —Denuevo!
And now, a Public Service Announcement:
Deer, Lorde Lorne, you have really have got to stop beating your musical guest for the Weekend on your show… motherfucker! What Are you, Canadian‽ And why, Lorde Lorne? Why is Michael Che not allowed on the stage dais at the end of the show—you think öüï don’t notice? Eye bets that Michael Che’s absence when the credits start to roll is because the stage at the end of the show was stipulated as a “safe space” for Jost, eh!