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Product Reviews & Information Discuss singles, albums, and DVDs. |
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2008.08.22, 07:18 AM | #161 |
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only the lowest "sample" quality videos for Shinji!!
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2008.08.22, 07:18 AM | #162 |
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I too have been guilty of downloading Ringo/Jihen stuff that was already on its way for physical delivery. I regretted doing that with Adult because these particular 192kbps MP3s someone made, really sucked (like sucked more than you might think the worst of the tracks suck musically). Strangely enough HF sounded a lot better in 192kbps, but I think those MP3s were produced under a different process.
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2008.08.22, 07:35 AM | #163 |
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>_>...
I like these CMs! The one with the foam (was it Gillette? Yeah I think so) is kind of erotic . |
2008.10.20, 12:36 PM | #164 | |
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From Wikipedia...
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2008.10.20, 01:11 PM | #165 |
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I've read that and like the title, but since there's no citation or a footnote... :\
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2008.10.20, 01:24 PM | #166 |
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I don't know about the title part, it doesn't sound likely...
But I read before about that Mayonaka thing, and it actually makes sense. Altough the title's symmetry don't work that well in hiragana. |
2008.10.20, 01:36 PM | #167 |
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alot of stuff pops up on her wikis that none of has ever heard of before with zero citation (one i can remember was the HF page where it states the album was supposed to be wholly electronic [ala Hatsukoi and Oiran] and the Neko junk came only out of time constraints. Zero citation and sounds like thought hypothesis)
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2008.11.19, 01:10 PM | #168 |
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The "Neko junk came only out of time constraints" thing is true. It is from Ringohan mailing emails (which I have yet to translate... someday!). So yeah, a lot of things can be discounted but that isn't just some rumor, it's true.
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2009.02.17, 09:10 AM | #169 |
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Hm, don't know if this is the right place to post this, but what the heck.
I was listening to "Souretsu" at full blast yesterday and got inspired to write this thing. I guess it could be called a fanfic. It's purely personal, altough there are some things that relate to the song or lyrics (some intentional, some not). I wrote it in portuguese, of course, and translated it to english for you guys. I'll provide both versions anyway, since my translation is a bit bad/simple. English: "The First Kiss Was Muddy" Nine months later, a baby will be born. You noticed it, didn't you? The big fat tummy of that lady with the black dress, standing next to the entrance. Even if she wanted to, which she doesn't, it would be impossible to hide such notorious evidence. Proudly exhibits it to everyone who passes by. Nine months passed. It is time to move away from that place. Someone gave it to her, but it does not matter, not at all. For that person will die, as the lady walks through the road. Right in the center, in the middle of everything. Soon she'll arrive at her castle on the top of the mountain. On top of the person who already died, on top of everything. The procession begins. In each step there's a person. Standing still searching through every line of the black dress, with eyes wide open. Because each line is important. Each line that covers the lady. She's safe, in black. And when she steps the last step, at the top of the staircase, she can finally fall with the deafening sound of the pipe organ. Nine months have passed and the child has cried. No one was surprised. And no one was looking at the black dress anymore. All were fixed in the lady's white face. In the middle of the dark, she was the light. She was the light even while rising by herself, by her own hands. She was the lady and the lady was she. At last, the calm. Everyone was descending the stairs and leaving the scene. She picked her own son and at her lap he stayed, until she rose her right arm and pierced through the boy's mouth, with the diamond adorned knife. The edge crossed through everything inside that baby's skull and the tip came out from the other side. Finally the baby was dead. She plucked the knife out and stow it in a drawer. Grabbed the dead and kissed him. She drank everything there was to be drank, she drank her blood. The most powerful kiss someone can give. And the lady in black gave it. No one else. That meat stayed in the ground. Nine months later, the red smile appeared, spread on the brightned face of the person who does't exist and is alone. Her mansion, her castle, her home, her world was hers. Portuguese: "O Primeiro Beijo foi Enlameado" Nove meses depois, um bebé vai nascer. Reparaste, não reparaste? Na barriga grande e gorda da senhora de vestido preto, perto da entrada. Mesmo que quisesse, que não quer, não poderia esconder tamanha evidência. Exibe-a com orgulho, a todos os que por ali passam. Nove meses passaram. É agora tempo de sair dali. Alguém lhe deu aquilo, mas não importa nada. Essa pessoa vai morrer, à medida que a senhora caminha pela estrada. Vai bem no centro, no meio de tudo. Depressa chegará ao seu castelo, em cima da montanha. Em cima da pessoa que já morreu, em cima de tudo. A procissão começa. Em cada degrau uma pessoa. Imóveis a percorrer cada linha do vestido preto, com olhos bem abertos. Porque cada uma das linhas é importante. Cada linha que envolve a senhora. Está bem guardada, de preto. E quando pisa o último degrau, no topo da escadaria, pode finalmente cair ao som ensurdecedor do órgão de tubos. Passaram nove meses e a criança chorou. Ninguém estava surpreendido. Já ninguém olhava para o vestido preto. Tudo se concentrava na face branca da senhora. No meio da escuridão, ela era a luz. Era a luz mesmo ao erguer-se sozinha, pelas suas próprias mãos. Ela era a senhora e a senhora era ela. Por fim, a calma. Todos desciam pelos degraus e abandonavam a cena. Ela pegou no próprio filho e a seu colo ficou, até que ela levantou o braço direito e perfurou a boca do menino com a faca que apanhou, adornada de diamantes. O gume trespassou tudo o que havia dentro daquele crânio de bebé e a ponta saiu pelo outro lado. Finalmente o bebé estava morto. Ela retirou a faca e guardou-a numa gaveta. Pegou no morto e beijou-o. Bebeu tudo o que havia para beber, bebeu o seu sangue. O beijo mais poderoso que alguém pode dar. E a senhora de preto deu. Mais ninguém. Aquela carne ficou ali no chão. Nove meses depois, o sorriso vermelho surgiu, espalhado na face iluminada de quem não existe e está só. A sua mansão, o seu castelo, a sua casa, o seu mundo era dela. Hope you like it. Last edited by ShinjiPG : 2009.02.17 at 11:15 AM. |
2009.02.17, 11:06 AM | #170 |
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Ooh! I really liked that Shinji, very dark!
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