A 7min (the remaining 1.10min are credits), nicely illustrated Short History of the Internet. And a good example of a documentary short-film without photographic images.

9.40 am Gatwick. I’m back in London – 11.20 the lift doesn’t work – 5 floors carrying my 20kilos suitcase – open the door (how small) – everything is clean – where are they? - I’m happy to be here – Am I really? – Yes, I guess. But I miss them – Off to Warhol exhibition.

Ok. Play it.

this post was delayed 2 days

Back in my tender pre-adolescence, as soon as my older brothers moved to college taking with them what up to then I thought was our music, I realized I needed some musical independence. I then began buying my own CDs and, as a consequence of this, I went through some very pathetic experiences.

In the quest of trying to recover those songs I loved but-never-knew-whose-songs-they-were (many of them were in my brothers' MIX cassettes), I used to go to the record store and eagerly hummed the melody to the guy in charge. Very frequently, the pretentious twenty-something-super-old guy ended up thinking I was a ridiculous mocosa and I (an even more pretentious preperson) thought he was an ignorant of European new musical trends*. But more importantly, the experience was almost always unsuccessful: in many cases, I had to wait for chance to give me an opportunity to hear the song again and if I was too lucky, someone around could tell me what song it was, so I could go and buy it. Those were clearly not lastfm/spotify years.

Fortunately, new generations will not have to go through this (or this) anymore. Now we have programs like Shazam and Midomi that recognize music tracks just by having someone (or something--a music player) humming or singing them. Moreover, once they identify the track, they display the pertinent info (author, album, etc.) and other links to videos and iTunes.

I've heard about these programs and their virtues before. But I've never tried them until yesterday thanks to Pepe and his iPhone, and I must say it's the closest thing to magic I've seen lately.

"The concept behind Shazam is simple: whenever you hear a song playing and can't identify it--on the car radio, at a friend's house, at a bar--you activate the Shazam application on your mobile phone [or iPhone]. It "listens" to the song for about 30 seconds, then sends a text message to your phone [or shows the info directly if it's an iPhone] identifying the artist and title. Shazam's database contains audio fingerprints for nearly 5 million songs, so there's a pretty good chance of a positive ID.

Midomi, in turn,

"[i]s a classic Web 2.0 service with user generated and social networking for singers and music fans. Their searchable database of music (which their music recognition search engine uses for matching voice search queries) is 100% user-generated - it's been built up entirely by their registered members recording and submitting the music of their choice."

And one important thing: both Shazam and Midomi are FREE.

*I was living in Caracas back then.

Sometimes life prevents us from e-living. This is what I've been up to.

What else can a woman do after being Roberto Rossellini and Ingrid Bergman's daughter, Martin Scorsesse's wife and David Lynch and Gary Oldman's lover? After becoming a top model at age 28, the face of Lancome for fourteen years and an underground film sex icon at 40?

Becoming a Porn Star? Maybe, but not an ordinary one.

The as-sophisticated-as-devious Isabella Rossellini now makes short (documentary?) films about bug’s sex life. But in her films we see no real animals; she plays their part.  "If I were a firefly, I will light up my ass at night; and fly here, and fly there...", says Isabella while swaying her hips from one side to the other, in close up and all dressed up like...well, a firefly. In this way, she explicitly explains us the mating habits of lighting bugs; and also, of bees, earthworms, spiders and a few more insects.

Perhaps Isabella’s strange green turn can be interpreted as a weird concoction of the realist legacy of her father and the surreal wickedness of Lynch.

 Anyway, more than a porn star, I would say she’s become a vieja verde.