*Lyrics taken from 'L'Étranger', a book by Albert Camus.
**Contains a sample of Albert Camus's Nobel Prize acceptance speech.
*In the midst of hate I found there was in me an invincible love
In the midst of tears I found there was in me an invincible smile
No matter how hard the world pushes against me
There’s something stronger in me that pushes right back
In the midst of chaos I found there was in me an invincible calm
In the midst of winter I found there was in me an invincible summer
FR
**“Le rôle de l'écrivain, du même coup, ne se sépare pas de devoirs difficiles. Par définition, il ne peut se mettre aujourd'hui au service de ceux qui font l'histoire : il est au service de ceux qui la subissent. Ou, sinon, le voici seul et privé de son art. Toutes les armées de la tyrannie avec leurs millions d'hommes ne l'enlèveront pas à la solitude, même et surtout s'il consent à prendre leur pas. Mais le silence d'un prisonnier inconnu, abandonné aux humiliations à l'autre bout du monde, suffit à retirer l'écrivain de l'exil, chaque fois, du moins, qu'il parvient, au milieu des privilèges de la liberté, à ne pas oublier ce silence et à le faire retentir par les moyens de l'art. Aucun de nous n'est assez grand pour une pareille vocation. Mais, dans toutes les circonstances de sa vie, obscur ou provisoirement célèbre, jeté dans les fers de la tyrannie ou libre pour un temps de s'exprimer, l'écrivain peut retrouver le sentiment d'une communauté vivante qui le justifiera, à la seule condition qu'il accepte, autant qu'il peut, les deux charges qui font la grandeur de son métier : le service de la vérité et celui de la liberté. Puisque sa vocation est de réunir le plus grand nombre d'hommes possible, elle ne peut s'accommoder du mensonge et de la servitude qui, là où ils règnent, font proliférer les solitudes. Quelles que soient nos infirmités personnelles, la noblesse de notre métier s'enracinera toujours dans deux engagements difficiles à maintenir- le refus de mentir sur ce que l'on sait et la résistance à l'oppression. Pendant plus de vingt ans d'une histoire démentielle, perdu sans secours, comme tous les hommes de mon âge, dans les convulsions du temps, j'ai été soutenu ainsi par le sentiment obscur qu'écrire était aujourd'hui un honneur, parce que cet acte obligeait, et obligeait à ne pas écrire seulement. Il m'obligeait particulièrement à porter, tel que j'étais et selon mes forces, avec tous ceux qui vivaient la même histoire, le malheur et l'espérance que nous partagions. Ces hommes, nés au début de la Première Guerre mondiale, qui ont eu vingt ans au moment où s'installaient à la fois le pouvoir hitlérien et les premiers procès révolutionnaires, qui ont été confrontés ensuite, pour parfaire leur éducation, à la guerre d'Espagne, à la Seconde Guerre mondiale, à l'univers concentrationnaire, à l'Europe de la torture et des prisons, doivent aujourd'hui élever leurs fils et leurs œuvres dans un monde menacé de destruction nucléaire. Personne, je suppose, ne peut leur demander d'être optimistes. Et je suis même d'avis que nous devons comprendre, sans cesser de lutter contre eux, l'erreur de ceux qui, par une surenchère de désespoir, ont revendiqué le droit au déshonneur, et se sont rués dans les nihilismes de l'époque. Mais il reste que la plupart d'entre nous, dans mon pays et en Europe, ont refusé ce nihilisme et se sont mis à la recherche d'une légitimité. Il leur a fallu se forger un art de vivre par temps de catastrophe, pour naître une seconde fois, et lutter ensuite, à visage découvert, contre l'instinct de mort à l'œuvre dans notre histoire.”
EN
**“By the same token, the writer’s role is not free from difficult duties. By definition he cannot put himself today in the service of those who make history; he is at the service of those who suffer it. Otherwise, he will be alone and deprived of his art. Not all the armies of tyranny with their millions of men will free him from his isolation, even and particularly if he falls into step with them. But the silence of an unknown prisoner, abandoned to humiliations at the other end of the world, is enough to draw the writer out of his exile, at least whenever, in the midst of the privileges of freedom, he manages not to forget that silence, and to transmit it in order to make it resound by means of his art. None of us is great enough for such a task. But in all circumstances of life, in obscurity or temporary fame, cast in the irons of tyranny or for a time free to express himself, the writer can win the heart of a living community that will justify him, on the one condition that he will accept to the limit of his abilities the two tasks that constitute the greatness of his craft: the service of truth and the service of liberty. Because his task is to unite the greatest possible number of people, his art must not compromise with lies and servitude which, wherever they rule, breed solitude. Whatever our personal weaknesses may be, the nobility of our craft will always be rooted in two commitments, difficult to maintain: the refusal to lie about what one knows and the resistance to oppression. For more than twenty years of an insane history, hopelessly lost like all the men of my generation in the convulsions of time, I have been supported by one thing: by the hidden feeling that to write today was an honour because this activity was a commitment – and a commitment not only to write. Specifically, in view of my powers and my state of being, it was a commitment to bear, together with all those who were living through the same history, the misery and the hope we shared. These men, who were born at the beginning of the First World War, who were twenty when Hitler came to power and the first revolutionary trials were beginning, who were then confronted as a completion of their education with the Spanish Civil War, the Second World War, the world of concentration camps, a Europe of torture and prisons – these men must today rear their sons and create their works in a world threatened by nuclear destruction. Nobody, I think, can ask them to be optimists. And I even think that we should understand – without ceasing to fight it – the error of those who in an excess of despair have asserted their right to dishonour and have rushed into the nihilism of the era. But the fact remains that most of us, in my country and in Europe, have refused this nihilism and have engaged upon a quest for legitimacy. They have had to forge for themselves an art of living in times of catastrophe in order to be born a second time and to fight openly against the instinct of death at work in our history.”
https://www.fabrica-do-terror.com/the-dark-room-album-de-antonio-bizarro/
"De entre os álbuns que lancei através da Enough Records Netlabel, The Dark Room é o único em que explorei o conceito de banda sonora no sentido mais lato, ou seja, como se de música para filmes se tratasse.
Nos meus outros lançamentos, as sonoridades são mais orientadas para a eletrónica e o industrial, com batidas e linhas de baixo mais convencionais e composições assentes por completo em programação, enquanto que, em The Dark Room, usei uma abordagem mais orgânica, ligando um teclado MIDI ao computador, tocando ao vivo as várias camadas de som e gravando em tempo real.(...)"
Android:Apocalypse - 'Bipolar Express'
THE SIOBHAN COMPLEX AND OTHER STORIES
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A collection of eight sci-fi/horror/fantasy short stories set in Saint Paul, a.k.a., the City of Industry.
THE SIAMESE DREAM AND OTHER STORIES
A collection of eight sci-fi/horror/fantasy short stories set in Saint Paul, a.k.a., the City of Industry.
VOLUME TWO:
VOLUME THREE:
The City of Industry, as the whole world, is clamped under the metal heels of intelligent machines, the Cyberiads. A small outfit of four operatives are on their way to the MacLaren Institute on a mission meant to give Mankind a fighting chance against its opressor. Shadow, Karuna, and Doggo, led by their misterious leader, Berserker, will face countless dangers as they cross the vast wasteland that used to be called Saint Paul.
ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK:
In a hierarchy/ mind doesn't function
Your only thoughts are/ implanted notions
I cannot say/ if I'm asleep or awake
My feeble voice/ is just a background noise
Behavior control/ standard procedure
No emotions allowed/ feelings don't figure
https://anti-demos-cracia.bandcamp.com/album/the-power-of-union-fight-the-fascists
Featuring IMDK, with the track "Slave Mode".
https://thisco.bandcamp.com/album/xv
(EN) An interesting documentary about these beautiful animals, containing one of my songs on the soundtrack ('Tovah', The Dark Room, EnoughRecords Netlabel, 2019), and testimonies from, among others, Jane Goodall. Youtube Channel 'Animal Educate'.
http://enoughrecords.scene.org/release/enrtxt004
https://soundcloud.com/antoniobizarro/antonio-bizarro-no-livro-da-semana-radio-alfa
Entrevista concedida a Nuno Gomes Garcia na rubrica Livro da Semana, da Rádio Alfa, em meados de Abril de 2019, a propósito do lançamento do livro 'O Invisível, a Sua Sombra e o Seu Reflexo'.
https://portuguesescontemporaneos.home.blog/2020/10/28/a-arca-joel-g-gomes/
«“O Mal Humano” é uma ambiciosa série literária do autor dos romances Um Cappuccino Vermelho e A Imagem, e este é o episódio de arranque, um conto que lida com a perda, o sentido de dever e as consequências (não desprovidas de ironia) advindas da obtenção daquilo que mais desejamos.»
Antologia de contos eróticos com submissões que cobrem diversos
sub-géneros, desde o mais “romance cor de rosinha”, passando pelo
cómico, até ao mais “sobrenatural”. Contribuições de Ana Carina Paulino,
André Coelho, António Bizarro, António Boieiro, Carla Santiago,
Cristina Gaspar, Fernando Ferreira e Filipe Cruz.
