ABOUT GUELYLAND

"One of the smallest , independent kingdoms in the ciberuniverse. Nothing fancy. Population? Just me, myself and my jaguars, my movies and my books (and, at this very moment, YOU). Hided and secret like Skull Island or Opar, the ancients in Guelyland use to read the scrools of a minor god called Voor-Hes.
Most of the treasures of Guelyland are made of paper, plastic and vinyl.Guelyland dreams with expanding in deep more then in surface. The music of Nik Kershaw has been heard here. There are apes, lots of apes in Guelyland. Woody Allen and Bob Hope visit it quite often. Here we love books (the Kingdoms Library is both celebrated and secret) Here we are atheists but very tolerant and think of god a bit too often and much. Guelyland is, the stuff my dreams are made of..."

PEOPLE WITH TASTE. YOU CAN BE ONE OF THEM!!

Thursday, September 30, 2010

R.I.P. TONY CURTIS

T.C. (1925-2010)

Well, he died yesterday, at 85, had a long good life and a lot of great films that will last as long as people likes movies. I feel like somebody i knew personally has passed away because i "knew him" since i was a very little kid. His life and movie carrier had ups and downs but the balance was positive. Enjoyed more then the company of the most beautiful women, a good painter, he was an insightful fellow and was famous all over the world for more then sixty years. That is more then the mayority of human beings will ever achieve.
In 1994 I bought his first auto biography and browsing it tonight I see these parts underlined. They move me now as they did then.







His latest "American Prince, a memoir" (Harmony Books, 2008) was on it's way when he is dead. I bet it will be a heck of a reading as well!
Hope some time soon we will be able to see some of his movies never properly released on DVD especially The Great Impostor (Robert Mulligan,1961).




2 comments:

Gigi Peligro said...

snif snif... yo me quedo con Some like it hot... inmejorable!

Guely of Sweden said...

Y en la compañia de Marilyn y Jack Lemmon bajo la batuta de Willy Wilder. Qué más se podía pedir...

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