Same procedure as every year

If counted well the Germans today can watch Dinner for one (The 90th birthday) - history here - twelve times at different times on various TV-channels.
Very strange folks, the Germans.
Well, judge for yourself.

Tiny tip-off: Be absolutely determined not to laugh.

On Harold Pinter in Every-Man's Land

Nobel Lecture: Arts, Truth & Politics Warning: The above is nothing for contemporaries who 'have no(t 46 minutes) time for such things'. Brief personal note, especially for those ... experts who got het up when Harold Pinter in 2005 was awarded the Nobelprize: Once in the 70th of the past millennium two outstanding performances of No-Man's Land made me curious to read Pinter's plays: One in the Old Vic (London) with (Sir) John Gielgud as Spooner and Ralph Richardson as Hirst, the other in Schloßpark Theater (Berlin) with Martin Held (Hirst) and Bernhard Minetti (Spooner). If any ... expert had asked me then, f.e. 'Who's better - Nobel Laureate Thomas Mann or Harold Pinter?' - my answer had not been 'Thomas Mann'. Well, the two gentlemen may discuss this in 'Every-Man's Land'. D.i.P. [Discuss in Peace]

Merry Christmas!

Sometimes one has to be cruel

Yesterday, watching an interview with Marlene Dumas on her exhibition Measuring Your Own Grave, the last sentence read:

"You have to be cruel - against yourself ... and others."

And I thought by myself: Hm. Yes. Sometimes.

Un bel di vedremo

Ying Huang as Madame Butterfly



On the 150th birthday of Giacomo Puccini.

In the web of Circe's daughters

Once upon a time, deep in the past millennium, Mrs. J - at that time Miss E. - and I, one day after our engament-party, in Miss E's R4 crossed the Channel to visit our dear friend J.
To cut a lovely and long story short: After a magic fortnight, J. presented me a dish-towel containing following prophesy:

It starts when
you sink
into her arms,
and it ends
with your arms
in the sink.

Don't know why, but at that time I did not take notice of that Miss E. was laughing a bit louder than me, and that there was a certain sparkling in her eyes.

End of the beforegoing.

Two weeks ago the former Miss E., now Mrs. J., and Miss J. kept me busy with washing up, as they were baking twelve different kinds of cookies all Saturday and Sunday.
And what shall I say? They knew to make me feel a very important person.
- Great, Sean, you are faster than any dishwasher.
- Popoye [not Popeye!!], would you like to taste a champagne-cookie?
- Without you, Sean / Popoye [not Popeye!!] baking would be really boring.

Well, it might have been tactic - αἰεὶ δὲ μαλακοῖσι καὶ αἱμυλιοῖσι λογοῖσι θέλγει :) - but one thing is for sure: If Circe's daughters had done the washing-up, the result of the baking would have been exciting.

Just a tiny selection

Well, and last Saturday Mrs. J made three marvellous cakes / tortes (?) to spoil her Mum and the five ladies she had invited for Sunday afternoon. And again my arms ended in the sink.

20 hours later: 491 years happily sitting in one room, and how lovely to hear the girls chirping like birdies, enjoying to get served like Queens. And how flattering to hear them praising Mrs. J's art of baking. And how ... err ... polite none of the ladies would ask why their charming waiter had webs between his wizened fingers.


All this just to let you know that said webs have almost disappeared, and I am back again.

In the mood for ...

... Dvorak's Humoresque No. 7

Welcome to ...

Global TAC, LLC
HTTP application software. Browsing tools. Web site analytics. Web site monitoring. Web site search reporting. Consulting services.
Website: www dot globetac dot net

[For regular readers some tiny information, more.]

Can't believe they would have given you the very job. Ha ha ha.

If so, here's to make it easy for you: The irrelevant posts - irrelevant as they don't transport anything new - you are looking for are to be found by clicking the label food-monopoly.

To help you not losing your job, I'll try to offer one or two posts per week that will let your contracting entity believe (sic) they've found Gene SH221bBSt*.


Blimey, did you ever think of that afterwards they will let you pay for 'their' patented knowledge?

Or well, good night, and good luck.

Vision & Reality

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights

It might be of interest
to compare the articles above
to my recently published

Essai on the universal validity of certain virtues

The peace of the night

Kafka-esque conundrum

Strange things happening this evening: Why would I, while re-reading Kafka's 'Metamorphosis, feel reminded of Monsanto?

In general I do like insects.

For sure I shall have to ponder about this, for a while; be sure, however that I shall offer you a roundup as soon as I'll have found a solution to this conundrum.

The pea...

Ah well, once the name of the honourable society has been mentioned, I shall not ask what Monsanto could do for me, but what I could do for Monsanto.

For a beginning: I could skilfully organise Monsanto's worldwide watchdog system (MWWS).
Just send me your offers and, if they meet my demands, almost immediately MWWS will get efficient.

Presently it's a pigsty: nonprofessional, inefficient and - stakeholders' money wasting.

Example: No Ministry of Defence, no secret service, or any other sinister organisation, would ever let more than three, four watchdogs check Omnium. Okay, Homeland Security seems either chaotically organised.
However, Monsanto?!
To cut it short, and to coin it in your terms: The pigsty needs new genes!

Nothing against the individual janitor, but what's too much, is too much.

There are (up til now) at most ten posts to be found on this blog which are somehow Monsanto relevant. And: They are telling nothing new.

By the way and in this context: I do highly recommend reading Thoreau.

Oh well, very probably one janitor in Reno - and some (!) others elsewhere - already did. Why else should s/he have spent 10 hours 28 minutes and 30 seconds during one (!) visit, when ... look above.

Don't get me wrong. Of course, it's a pleasure to widen one's horizon by reading this blog, but please, not during office hour.
This will definitively end, when I am your boss.

Which brings me back to my offer, and to all of you who each have to waste hours and hours, when two separately working colleagues would be enough.

I could understand when any of you doing this nonprofessionally organised job - which is not your fault - in Englewood, Reno, Henderson, St. Louis, Bloomington, Durango, New York, Naperville and Seattle, to name but some, fearing for her/his job would not pass on my offer.

Perhaps it helps when I promise that none of you will get fired (moreover I guarantee optimal climate, joyful team-work), and the first to pass this offer to the boss of the bosses, as soon as I am his boss will become my assistant.
Now ladies and gents: Who's the first? :)

But now:
the pea...ce of the night.

Natural Arts

Click to enlarge

Nothing about potatoes

Surprise. No potatoes, for a change.

Those were (almost) the last courgettes / zucchini we harvested on the first September Sunday Altogether we may have got about ten times more from two (!) plants. The more grateful I was that Welshcakes 'just in time' posted one of her marvellous recipes. Again, mille grazie, Signora Limoncello. :)

Anyway, good to have neighbours, too, as we just could not eat all ourselves, and as courgettes - to our knowledge - unlike cucumbers when preserved ought to be eaten within three, four months.


Oh yes. As she thought the first photo to be pretty unimpressive, Mrs J. suggested to take another one so that you might get a glimpse of the dimensions ... especially when comparing the courgettes to the daisies. :)

A Pook is Here

Death needs time for what it kills to grow in.*

With thanks to the Doubtful Egg who posted this on Master Flann's birthday which is probably why I'd have felt reminded of Sweeney when the Pook appeared sitting in the tree.


Note:
Similarities to persons living or dead is purely incidental.
Those feeling offended are meant. :)

CPJ's 2008 prison census

Reflecting the rising influence of online reporting and commentary, more Internet journalists are jailed worldwide today than journalists working in any other medium. In its annual census of imprisoned journalists, released today*, the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) found that 45 percent of all media workers jailed worldwide are bloggers, Web-based reporters, or online editors. Online journalists represent the largest professional category for the first time in CPJ's prison census. Full article here.

* tomorrow this 'today' will have become the day before yesterday. :)

Spy in the sky

The German military commissioned its first spy-in-the-sky satellite system on Thursday, Dec. 4 enabling it to peek through clouds or the darkness of night at any spot on the planet.
Continue here.

Wow, somehow I feel safer now.
The peace of the night.

Monsanto-soybeans for Monsanto-pigs

It was a small step for the EU, but a great one for the bosses of Monsanto on their 'mission' to win the global food monopoly.

Good night, and good luck!

Top of the pops

It's never too late to talk about potatoes, isn't it? :) Thus, as anounced only eleven days ago, here some pics and but a few words.

As already mentioned, this year I felt I ought to be a bit worried. :)

Seriously, digging was a pleasure, not only for our cat which was ...

... meticuously supervising ...

and with Argus-eyes kept guard.

The potatoes, too, had their fun.

Drinking

Talking

Sunbathing

Dozing

On an even more serious note: Although we had planted only ten short rows (5 rows with 'early', 5 with 'late' potatoes', at the end we had carried around four hundredweights into the cellar. Marvellous potatoes many of which would not been sold in supermarkets, as their shape's considered political incorrect - and thus they are (somehow) illegal, the more as they don't contain of the average pesticides-level.
Anyway, I can assure you: despite all these flaws they do taste delicious. :)

XIX by Daffyd ap Gwilym

Miserable poet, fear filling him, harrassed and stumbling. Dark is the night on the cold bog. Dark - O God a torch! Dark over all, how shall I come out alive? Dark - great madness grips me! Dark now is the treacherous bog, dark the growth of the moon. Miserable man, that the sun, the good sun, is hidden. Dark it is for me, a poet, shut out with all my fame in dark and bitter winds outside. And if I were found here in the one land that hates me, bared to the guile and treachery of strangers, how should I and the gray horse escape?

Worse though, if I were caught, drowned in the bog-hole as I went with my horse in the mud at the bottom of the bog, after all the reverence I have had. Who can escape the bog-hole filled with the fishes of Gwynn of the Mist, a pit between crag and moor, place of ghosts and of their children, a lake of vinegar and bloody waves where swine wash?

I ruined my good Carnarvon stockings on this wrong road, I do not know why, except ill-luck, my horse and I fell in the bog-hole. The cold first overcame the lout, then was he heated as he dug and scrambled out. So now I am come to land, and can freely give the bog my blessing.

Acquainted with the night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain - and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Robert Frost

Indeed ... and not only today

Thanksgiving at the Oral Office

Remember Bill Clinton?
Fine.
Remember Thanksgiving 2001 (sic!)?
No?
Well, let's have a look.

[quote]Come on, be a good bird.[unquote]

[quote]Oops, she's does it. I'll call her Monica.[unquote]

Afterwards one could read that Mr. Bush had pardoned the turkey, named it - now guess! ...? ... yes!! - Liberty, and from now on Liberty would live in Vir-gin-ia-ha-ha-ha. Well who would believe this from a notorious liar?

According to my friend Tetrapilotomos his deep throat has investigated the truth.
[quote] Monica still lives in the Oral Office, and her favourite place is the one under the President's table.[unquote]

Now don't I mind Mr. Bush's preference for turkeys (be they female or male); I wonder however, why there has never been an impeachment trial?

A letter from Farzad Kamangar

No, I do not know if Farzad Kamangar is still alive.

I hope.

Tonight I happened to read this letter from him.

No, I do not know, if it is authentic and - given it is - how he'd been able to write it and 'smuggle' it out of his cell.

However, having spoken to two (renowned) Iranian writers once being tortured in Iranian prisons, I tend to rely on the letters authenticy and its contents.

Well, read and judge yourself.

Urgent appeal to save the life of Farzad Kamangar

Via Jams O'Donnell:

'Education International (EI) has been informed that Farzad Kamangar, the Iranian Kurdish teacher and social worker sentenced to death on "absolutely zero evidence" according to his lawyer, could be hanged on Wednesday 26 November 2008.

According to several reliable sources, he has been taken from his cell 121 in ward 209 of Tehran’s Evin prison in preparation for execution. Jail security officers are said to have told him he is about to be executed and they are making fun of him, calling him a martyr.

The Revolutionary Court issued the death sentence against Kamangar on 25 February 2008. His lawyer has said: "Nothing in Kamangar’s judicial files and records demonstrates any links to the charges brought against him." Kamangar was cleared of all charges during the investigation process. The last time Kamangar was seen, he was at the health clinic of Evin prison and his physical condition was poor. Witnesses testify that he has been beaten again. Kamangar has not been allowed to see his lawyer or family members for the past two months.

EI has been appealing to the Iranian authorities to commute Kamangar's death sentence and ensure his case is reviewed fairly.

Now, EI is once again appealing to Iranian judicial authorities to halt the execution. EI is also asking members of the international community urgently to intervene.'

Please click here to send a message of protest to President Ahmadinejad.

Update:
Tried four times, however when pushing the 'send message'-button the message would not be sent.

in case you wish to speak out, you may directly address President Ahmadinejad, by using your own account and sending an email to following address:

dr-ahmadinejad@president.ir

This is the message I sent:

Mr. Ahmadinejad,

having learned right now that Farzad Kamangar faces hanging in the next few hours, I call upon your humanity to immediately commute his death sentence and have his case re-examined through a fair trial.

The peace of the night,
Sean Jeating, Germany

- - - - -

Choose your own words, or - in order to save time - you may copy and paste the message above - don't forget to sign with your own name, though. :)

Thank you.

Just a thought

To attack a man for talking nonsense
is like finding your mortal enemy
drowning in a swamp and
jumping in after him with a knife.

Karl Popper

Essai on the universal validity of certain virtues

Thanks for your attention.

As time goes by

Mrs. J. does sometimes worry for the statics of the house, but that's another story. :)

And neither I intend to tell that I was ten years, one month and nine days old, when John Fitzgerald Kennedy was murdered (by whomsoever), nor to bore with my memories.

Much more interesting I found when today re-reading this extra edition that 40 pages (mainly containing of large-sized Black&White photos) then would have cost 50 Pfennnig (ca. 25 Euro Cent), that 'Illustrierte' would have been spelled Illustrirte, and that it could have been knocked together within less than 48 hours and thus before Jack Ruby murdered Lee Harvey Oswald.

Sorry for the quality. (A4 scanner)

Well, and I find interesting that today 45 years ago I would not at all have taken notice of that on this very day also an author had died, parts of whose work some years later I'd devour with pleasure - Aldous Huxley.

Parts of his work? Well, I prefered his first two novels to those on which his fame mainly bases.

Most impressed, though, I was and still am by one of Huxley's short stories: Klein Archimedes / Young Archimedes.

So, if you find you must repent
from side to side in argument,
at least don't use your mind too hard
but trust my instinct - I'm a bard.

Couldn't have put it more nicely than Robert Frost. :)

Very busy ...

... not blogging I've been for quite a while, and this goes also for visiting and leaving comments.

The more I do appreciate the patience shown by my esteemed readers. Thank you.

US-election, a so-called financial crisis, the ban of Blogger.com in Turkey, uncounted further evidence that human dignity is violable etc.: There could have hundreds of posts been written.

However, I decided to set other priorities.
[Did you take notice I did not write 'I had no time', as it's said that those complaining they have no time, are just not able to organise? :) ]

Not that I did not follow what happened in the world. I stayed awake for all TV-duels and did not sleep at all in the election night, felt pleased when it became clear that "Did you know I'm a Vietnam veteran?!" had not been convincing enough an argument for the majority of the US-voters, and I did even feel moved by Mr. Obama's 'victory speech' and the whole atmosphere, although I do not share his supporters' enthusiastic optimism. Perhaps if I were 45 years younger. :)

Well, back to the priorities:
1. Writing
2. Gardening
3. Reading
4. Reflecting and Contemplating.

Interesting to see the above black on white.
Probably not for you, but for me. :)

Did I succeed?
N-yes. Sounds better than Y-no, hm? :)

The books I read are good, some 'just great'.
The reflecting and contemplating was both exciting and relaxing.
As for the writing, I am quite content with the quantity - and in some weeks when I shall start to re-read it, and after the 'polishing', hopefully even with the quality. :)

Again, interesting to see the above black on white.

As for blogging.
The story about that one 's' is (almost) able to 'kill' a story's clue, has to wait, as I am still pondering about how I could get out of the tight spot. :)))

Neither I do feel like writing about politics today, about economy, organised stupidity in its various forms, about Sir Veillance, pirates and other criminals.

Rather I do prefer to share - for the beginning - some of those many tiny things which during the past two, three months let my eyes sparkle, the corners of my mouth start expeditions to the ear-lobes, and my heart rise with joy like a falcon up to the sky. :)

Here's a little foretaste:

Potato manikin relaxing on rhubarb leaf :)

Cricketers of the World, be very scared

Posting an article according to which the mayor of the Turkish city of Batman is suing producer/director Christopher Nolan and Warner Bros. for royalties from the film The Dark Knight, Jams O'Donnell Esq. yesterday morning finally stated: "I have no idea if this is a spoof or not but I do love a bit of frivolous litigation!"

About three hours later, I was able to resolve all his doubts: 'When even one of the most honourable and trustworthy newspapers on this planet, and thus in this galaxy and all those galaxies still to discover - i.e. Hurriyet - would sacrifice space for the Dark Mayor's accusations, now, then it must be true, Jams, hm?'

So far, so ... so ... well, let's call it bizarre.

Not bizarre is when some bad men would get off forbidding any son of Batman now living in Germany (or elsewhere!) to name his restaurant 'Batman'.

I wonder when they will bring in an action for injunction against all Cricket Clubs on this planet.

Ah, may they choke from their arrogance and acquisitiveness!

Won't happen?

Oh well, then may Spiderman punish them!



Ceterum censeo it's time that the Turks get what they need: Atapluckism.

Merci, Miriam Makeba

I look at a stream and I see myself: a native South African, flowing irresistibly over hard obstacles until they become smooth and, one day, disappear - flowing from an origin that has been forgotten toward an end that will never be.
Miriam Makeba [March 4th, 1932 - November 10th, 2008]

Better than any of my words, the following videos (thanks to those who offer to share them) will let you understand, perhaps even feel why I would feel deep respect for this woman, since I happened to hear her voice for the first time.


UN [1963]




Soweto Blues [1966]



Khawuleza [1966]



Pata Pata

Getting afflicted with doubts

Telling a young lady the facts that inspired me to write the dialogues in previous post, she spontaneously said:

- They must not become member of the EU.

- You know that one could argue the opposite view - with exactly the same reasons, don't you?

- I know. However, I don't think they would change, once they became member of the EU. And noone - at least no majority - would insist on them changing their misogynous behaviour. On the contrary, I hear politicians say 'Ah, we should accept their culture is different from ours.

- :) And ...

- And soon some noisy Turks - not the friendly and decent one's - living here will demand those laws to become valid in in this country, too, 'because we are Turks and do have the right to live our culture wherever we do live'. And as you know, the noisy one's mostly get what they want.

...


Hm, when even a friendly, cosmopolitan, well-educated young woman would speak out such vehemently against Turkey becoming a member of the EU, what will those think who happen to be less educated?

Yes, even this blogger starts getting afflicted with doubts. And he is asking himself: Cui bono?

UPDATE:
In order to make it easy to follow (and continue) this discussion, I changed the date of this post from October 27th to November 7th.

Thanks everybody for her / his patience.

Social Perversity in Turkey

... or: 'Social reality' in Turkey

Variations on a dialogue (in 2010?):

1.

- You say you have been gang raped by bureaucrats, men of law, politicians and an 80-year-old retired general?!

- Yes.

- What’s your age?

- 13.

- So you should go home and tell your parents.

- ?

- They can file a complaint if they wish.

- But it’s me who …

- You are too young to differentiate what is rape and what is love.

- But …

- Your family will know how to restore your family’s honour. Farewell.

***

2.

- So you say, the day before yesterday you have been gang raped by bureaucrats, men of law, politicians and an 80-year-old retired general?!

- Yes.

- What’s your age?

- The day before yesterday?

- Yes.

- 13.

- So you should go home and tell your parents. They can file a complaint if they wish.

- But, why can’t I …

- You are too young to differentiate what is rape and what is love.

- But I am married.

- With 13?!

- No, yesterday was my birthday. And my wedding.

- Well, but that was yesterday. You were still 13 when …

- My husband got 500 dollars f …

- He was not your husband the day before yesterday, hm?

- No. … eh …Yes.

- You are obviously slightly confused. Go home, tell your parents and your husband, and they will know how to restore your family's honour. Good night and good luck.

Irreal?

Well, read this, and then go on talking.

h/t Internation musings

Off I go

... - and Monday I'll be back.

Well, in case Frankfurt doesn't turn out to become my Mersin. :)

Either way, it's all part of Omnium.

Thus, enjoy life.

:) Hm, one never knows, therefore: May those I treated unfair forgive me.

October 13th, 2008

Apples and an appeal

This is the last apple I picked this afternoon.

Good harvest it was. One apple per day ...
And the best of all:

Again I did not fall from the ladder. :)

Well, and now Mrs. J. does insist on us having a glass of red, as after midnight I shall not be as young as I am now. :)
Sláinte.

October 12th, 1492

The American who discovered Columbus first,
made a fatal discovery.

Der Amerikaner, der den Kolumbus zuerst entdeckte,
machte eine böse Entdeckung. [G 183]

Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742 - 1799)

Avec le temps

Wordy Wednesday VI

This morning, noticing that Bock the Robber had posted an entry titled McCain and Palin — The Certainty of the Know-Nothings, expecting another of his glorious rants I moved over and ... got moved. Why? Read his words, watch the video, and you will know.

Visiting Ardent, you will come to know why I did wholeheartedly laugh about ... the Angel of Death. Enjoy! :)

I had just started to understand what Woody Allen had been refering to when stating: 'I am not frightened of death. I just don't want to be there when it happens', when a poem by Simin Bebhahani let my laughter die.

Well, and thanks to Internation Musing I came to read a nice 'Rolling Stones'-article not just about Sarah Palin.
Indeed: 'The scariest thing about John McCain's running mate isn't how unqualified she is - it's what her candidacy says about America'.

Wherewith this post's circle has come full. :)

The peace of the night.

Bow to Brel

...in a man's life, there are two important dates: his birth and his death. Everything we do in between is not very important.
Jacques Brel (April 8th, 1929 - October 9th, 1978)

This may be so. On the other side, there lies a grain of truth in what I think George Santayana once stated (trying to translate):

At death the leopard leaves behind its coat,
and man his reputation.

Well, and some would leave behind some wonderful chansons.



Although I find this one more impressive (judge yourself), for those who do not speak French I chose the version that's offered with English subtitles.

A very guttural Sláinte, Sir

Same procedure as last year?

Same procedure as every year!

Well, almost. This time you've to read 68 and 97.


Enough written.
I am off now with my only man to meet the birthday child in 'The Third Policeman'.
Wishing you the best of Omnium, if you know what I mean.

Shhh ...

My thoughts are with you, Janice.


Sometimes words are shallow, however deep from the bottom of one's heart they may come.

And therefore, I have been hesitating.

However, one title, one picture, a poem and some added lines have touched me so deeply that I wish you may also see them and - who knows? - ponder about ... share my thoughts and feelings and ... gain a bit new strength ... for life.

Yes!

A trustworthy successor

Well, I think if you say you're going to do something and don't do it, that's trustworthyness.
G.W. Bush, August 30th, 2000 during a CNN online chat

A worthy successor

What I'm suggesting to you is, if you can't name the foreign minister of Mexico, therefore, you know, you're not capable of what you do. But the truth of the matter is you are, whether you can or not.
G.W. Bush, November 6th, 1999 - Seattle Post-Intelligencer

US-Smurfs to protect 'their' people

As I stated some days ago here at Bock the Robber's:

Not that I’m prone to conspiracy theories, but in context with what has happened during the past eight years, and what is happening right now - you all will know what I am refering to; if not, please ask -, I found reading this interesting, if not disturbing.

Why? Focusing on the most ... interesting sentences, here's an extract:

Beginning Oct. 1 for 12 months, the 1st BCT will be under the day-to-day control of U.S. Army North, the Army service component of Northern Command, as an on-call federal response force for natural or manmade emergencies and disasters, including terrorist attacks.
[...]
“Right now, the response force requirement will be an enduring [1] mission. How the [Defense Department] chooses to source that and whether or not they continue to assign them to NorthCom, that could change in the future,” said Army Col. Louis Vogler, chief of NorthCom future operations. “Now, the plan is to assign a force every year.”
[...]
They may be called upon to help with civil unrest and crowd control or to deal with potentially horrific scenarios such as massive poisoning and chaos in response to a chemical, biological, radiological, nuclear or high-yield explosive, or CBRNE, attack.
[...]
The 1st BCT’s soldiers also will learn how to use “the first ever nonlethal package that the Army has fielded,” 1st BCT commander Col. Roger Cloutier said, referring to crowd and traffic control equipment and nonlethal weapons designed to subdue unruly or dangerous individuals without killing them.
The package is for use only in war-zone operations, not for any domestic domestic purpose [2].

Who knows? Even Col. Clutiers doesn't.

“I don’t know what America’s overall plan is — I just know that 24 hours a day, seven days a week, there are soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines that are standing by to come and help if they’re called,” Cloutier said. “It makes me feel good as an American to know that my country has dedicated a force to come in and help the people at home.”

Good night, America. And good luck.


[1] I like this word. Seems the US-citizens can be sure of living in 'enduring freedom'.
[2] As far as I remember, this very sentence had been 'forgotten' in the original version, which seems to have been updated September 30th. Well, nice correction, anyway.


P.S.

The brigade will not change its name, but the force will be known for the next year as a CBRNE Consequence Management Response Force, or CCMRF (pronounced “sea-smurf”).

Now, isn't this a funny name? ... Ha. Ha. Ha.

In case you've forgotten

Wishful thinking

May (y)our October become neither a black nor a red but a(nother) golden one.

The Queen of the Night

Today 217 years ago, Mozart's Magic Flute celebrated its premiere in Vienna.

Voilà, here`s Diana Damlau as The Queen of the Night singing The vengeance of hell boils in my heart.
May all my dear readers enjoy a fascinating performance the title of which I dedicate to all cash-hungry bankers, greedy venturers and either stupid and/or evil politicians.

USA under martial law?!

This is just a quick post. It will get updated as soon as I do find more leisure to (hopefully) write a proper one. Meanwhile: Enjoy ... if you can.




H/t Little Nicky who on Bock's site offered this link. Thanks for that.

Just a thought 07

It's said:
A picture can tell more than thousand words.
Quite.
And one word can 'paint' more than thousand pictures.

And who's the dummy in the White House?

Forget all denials from Pyongyang (and Seoul).

Kim Jong Il, the dear leader and beloved father of his (sic!) people is dead, has been replaced by dummies for the past five years. Well, according to a certain professor Toshimitsu Shigemura.

And who am I to doubt the word of a scientist?

Now I am looking forward to learn who's been the dummy in the White House for the past 2.323 days.

Surely you all remember George W. Bush's last words, spoken in Austin, Texas on Januar 4th, 2002:

I want to thank you for your taking time out of your day to come and witness my hanging.

A very simple question

why does that preacher think that a bikini is a more serious challange against Allah rather than taking the life of another living creature? why just cant he simply preach that a true muslim should not stare at those women who wear bikini instead of totally trying to curse the bikini.

It's for (glorious) sentences like those above I'd not miss any post by this man, and why for me he is not Superhero, but A Turkish Seanachie.

Thanks for the correction, time

Last year, readers either did not notice, or they were too polite to advise me of that I had erroneously made Mr. Johnson one year older than he had become.

Fortunately - at least sometimes - time is a great corrector. :)

Only 366 days later, and what's been a mistake has turned to be perfectly correct.

So, once again: Happy 299th, Mr. Johnson!

That is the happiest conversation where there is no competition, no vanity but a calm quiet interchange of sentiments.

As mostly, Sir, I'd not disagree. :)

Darwin makes my blood boil

... err ... no ... please! In case you happen to be one of those primates being 'taught'/indoctrinated to believe (whatever this means) they are intelligently designed and promoting the idea there's a potter who's first name is not Harry who about 10.000 years ago took a clot of loam, designed a being, shortly afterwards took a rib of this being and formed a female so that it (ha ha ha) would always have something to beat up - don't applause half-cocked.

Darwin made my blood boil by sharing this.

Ought I to be worried?

In case one can rely on the saying I derived comfort from last year, I ought to be very worried ...

Another Last Night

Same procedure as every year.
As I just watched this year's 'Last night of the Proms', I thought you might also like a musical bed-time sweets.

Voilà, enjoy.

Two days after

Just in case anyone's conCERNed and fearing - or exulting - I might have been swallowed by a Black Hole.

Mrs. Bloom's 105th 33rd

I'd not easily offer links twice. However, exceptions exist to be made. And today there is a good reason to make one.

It's Mrs. Bloom's 138th birthday, thus she's now 100 years older than her husband uses to be since June 16th, 1904.

'Uses to be'? Well, in a most vivid dialogue I had the pleasure to witness some time ago, Mr. Bloom vehemently insisted on still being 38. Being asked to give evidence he said: 'cause June 16th 1904 I became immortal.

Thus, de facto the eternal Mrs. Bloom today is celebrating her 105th 33rd.

Happy birthday then, Lady Molly, and may I say: You're looking younger than ever. Younger than ever. :)

Molly Bloom's Soliloquy
Part I



Part II

In praise of ...

...

Digging

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; as snug as a gun.

Under my window a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbed
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rotted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade,
Just like his old man.


My grandfather could cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, digging down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mold, the squelch and slap
Of soggy neat the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.

Seamus Heaney

Nessun dorma

Time flies.