Happy New Year!

May 2008 bring you and those around you:
Health, love, peace, inspiration, success, leisure, contentment,
and - in case something does not immediately work - lots of serene calmness and calm serenety.

And ... who knows ... why not? ...

... perhaps you may even find the pot at the end of the rainbow ... :)

Merry Christmas! :)

Yes, I am agnostic.
But as you see my family and I do love to celebrate Christmas our way - joyful and without any hectic.

Indeed, when thinking of you having such wonderful days as we are allowed to live I do feel happy for you. :)

Thus:

Merry Christmas to you and the yours!

And what would Christmas be without wonderful music.

As most of you would not understand the original German version by Josef Mohr (1816) I thought you might like to listen "Silent Night" in Gaelic. :)

And as it was not on his list, the following song I dedicate to a very special Yorkshireman living in Russia:

May you decide, which version you like best. Here's to you, James! :)

The "Ave Maria" by Mario Lanza, (in the film "The Great Caruso), by Luciano Pavarotti, (Christmas 1975 in Notre Dame) and by Sarah Brightman.

Publish Post

Swearboarding for Saudi Machos

Yesterday, by scroogling Lord Ahmed and Fethullah Gülen in order to find articles in which both gentlemen would be mentioned I did again stumble over something completely different: this one month old article.

And again I felt the almost untamable wish to at least let the judges and everybody (!) responsible for enabling such "legal practice" know the myriads of curses, maledictions and swear-words my closest friend and I have been collecting, so far.

Yes, deeply I did regret that once I promised myself to keep contenance when blogging.

End of the beforegoing.

Today, what a surprise, one could read this.

Relief for the woman, yes.
But did the news calm my furor? Not at all.

And so, in a few minutes, after having fallen into the feathers and having put the head on my pillow I shall hopefully get presented the same dream I enjoyed the night before.

The King of Saudi Arabia, his complete entourage including judges and clergy being sent from the desert into the devils' kitchen where they are getting preferential treatment: Heaviest swearboarding which would not end before these ... hm ... these gentlemen would promise with immediate effect to veil their faces up til infinity and walk four steps behind their wives when lugging the shopping bags.

The Peace of the Night.

Kafka, the Kremlin and Kasparov

"Am in Erzurum. The
worshippers to dead
sardines' heads are
forming a
supranational elite.
Until soon,
kind regards,
Tetrapilotomos."

You remember this message I received November 16th?

Well, since, I had been living lovely quiet days, snapping at the chance to rereading parts of the correspondence between Voltaire and Frederic II., Saramago's The Seeing, and, after all, listening to Harry Rowohlt reading the complete volume of Sterne's Tristram Shandy, altogether 23 hours and 24 minutes on 22 CDs which had been last year's Christmas present.

There had been but five more messages, each containing of three words: Am in Istanbul, Am in Stockholm, Am in Moscow, Am in Bern. The last arrived Wednesday evening: Am in Lisbon.

Now, tonight watching the beginning of Kafka's "Castle", who drops in?
Right. My closest friend.

Here I am.

Welcome back, Tetrapilotomos. How ...

Ah, Kafka's Kremlin. Ulrich Mühe is brilliant in the Kasparov role.

You did not have a date with Mary Jo?

No.

Tetrapilotomos! Kafka took his last dwelling six feet under almost 40 years before Kasparov made his first move by leaving his first dame.

Are you sure?

A strong tea, Tetrapilotomos?

Yes. As K. awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed into an asteroid; in 1983 this asteroid would be discovered by Randolph Kirk and Donald Rudy who would name it 3412 Kafka, and in the same year "Amerika" would be published. Sean, don't you understand? It's a gig.....

Coming to think of it I do hastily agree. Otherwise, in a minute you'll tell Flann O'Brien is Kafka's reincarnation.

Was.

Is. Anyway, it's lovely to have you back, my friend. It was so quiet and I missed you so much.

Alright, seriously: But you will agree if Kafka were Russian, he would be a Costumbrista writer, won't you?

Would he be a Costumbrista writer, he were Mexican.

Why? Take it as an ingredient of globalisation ... or, this may please you more, of Omnium.

*

Well, actually I had intended to watch the film and afterwards to hear Tetrapilotomos telling a few (!) tales of his trip.
Instead, I did see nothing of the film, and ... the rest you know.

Now I am tired. Suppose tomorrow I'll need nerves of steel.

The peace of the night.


- - -

For those interested to read a little more about the (unfinished) novel, the film and its director: Voilà.

More about Kafka - and surprisingly not bad for the beginning - you find here.

And for those who could not get enough, highly commended: The Kafka Project.

On your genius, gentlemen!

Born 20 years after five ships under the command of Sir Francis Drake left Plymouth to sail around the world, and 140 years earlier than Robert Gernhardt, today Heinrich Heine would celebrate the 210th anniversary of his birth.

Well, he (possibly) can't; but by his work he made himself (hopefully) immortal.

And Heinrich Heine Price laureate Robert Gernhardt, who died in June 2006? Too early to say he will be remembered in 200 years. For sure, in his lifetime he was one of if not the best German word magician.

So, gentlemen, thanks for giving me reason to raise my glass twice tonight: On your genius, Slàinte!

... and it is still rising :)

All morning I hesitated, because I’d not like being thought a trumpeter.

On the other side, it is nice to get kind compliments from time to time, isn’t it?
Thus, be it!

This morning, visiting my dear “seldom boring”s I’d find this at Ardent Observation.

Immediately filled with joy, my heart rose like a falcon up to the sky, and ...

... it is still rising. :)

Thanks, Ardent! The caricature is a marvellous match to the quote!


Postscriptum:
In case it ever does, as soon as my heart has safely returned to its home base there might be another post tonight.

Bush's tribute to Zappa

... or, by anticipating, vice versa?

A chimpanzee for president!

Reading this will let you understand why (most) politicians as soon as the polls close would have forgotten all they promised on the hustings.

Ardently asked for seven facts

Being "ardently" asked to "divulge seven facts" about myself, fulfilling this wish although when starting my expedition into the blogosphere I was (and still am) determined to politely reject in case of getting tagged, implicates ...

fact 1: I am inconsequent ... now and then. :)
Putting this insufficiency of character posivitely: I like it to make people happy. :)

fact 2: I do like (subtle) irony: Once telling a bookseller about my difficulties with learning Irish, he would nod and say: "Well, it needs a bit intelligence."

fact 3: 1. Once coquetting with Buñuel ("I'm atheist ... thank God"), by default of the perfect term I do call myself an agnostic; still I made Lough Derg and climbed Croagh Patrick on my bare feet; and while some people would burn flags because of a book they did not read, I read the books and would not burn flags, if anybody would call a stray dog Sean. :)

fact 4: books. There are about 3,000 in the shelves around me, and - I did even read them. :)
Being asked which one I'd take "to the island", I could not decide and would therefore prefer lots of papers and pens, so that I could write the stories I want to read, myself. :)

fact 5: In my very first school report the lady teacher remarked: "Sean is neat and industrious although very idiosyncretic".

fact 6: I am (mostly) trying to do unto others as I would have others do unto me.

fact 7: Therefore - will you please forgive me , Ardent? -, I shall not tag anybody else. :)

News from Russia ha ha ha

There have been elections in Russia?

I see.

The media are selling the results as news.

A "news" which a ready wit might have written twelve weeks or twelve months beforehand with sufficient accuracy.

Pen and ink make me think

Hm. Yes. Extraordinarily busy not writing, for a while, I've been.

Not writing? Well, rather I should write posting.

It's been nice, for a change, using the long neglected pen.

Dipping the pen into the ink pot makes me think much more concentrated.

It's not such easy to delete typos or "wrongly" chosen words.

And, although a beloved person once told/taught me that "the perfectionism is the enemy of the good", I am still trying to be (as) perfect (as possible).

:))) No. Not in English.
When using the pen(cil) I do still prefer the language I sucked from my mother's breasts.

And therefore you will not read here what I put to paper during the past fortnight.

Perhaps - who knows - one day someone who sucked the English language from his mother's breasts will translate it in a hopefully congenial way. :)

Before, though, you may read some most imperfect posts.

The peace of the night. :)