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.

Ah ... now ... I see ...

There are very many people who read simply
to prevent themselves from thinking.
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-1799)

Sorry, I am reading

Merry Christmas

I am sure! Am I?

Yes!
Yes, to the question I have sometimes been asked.
This agnostic will be enjoying the days to come.
Given Christ would be the very one he is said to be;
and given you believe what you have been told:
Are you sure he would our preparations for what we call Christmas not call Christmess?

We do not need any god to know that it is go(o)d to be go(o)d to one another.

Yes. We bought a (killed) tree.
Ah, and again having the privilege to do the washing up when the ladies of the house are baking all those most delicious cookies!

Talking we are, joking we are, listening to one another we are, washing up I am. :)

And not seldom I would hear: Ah, Sean/Popoye, why would you think to need reminding us of so drastically of what happens in this world?

And, despite feeling guilty for spoiling their happiness, I'd say: 'Just to remind us of that we are very lucky.'

Not always - and how good I can understand - they would appreciate my words.

But for sure: I do appreciate their (hands') work.



Yes!

I do like - almost I had written: I love - our annual rituals.
And still, like last year: My 'Merry Christmas' post will not fill your hearts with joy.
It would not be my intention, anyway.

Having written this: Enjoy the togetherness with those you love. Be kind to one another. Very probably, any sign of kindness - may it be some sparkling eyes, a (very) kiss, a tender hug - well, you know what I mean, hm? :) - will be appreciated; more than any (expensive) present.

I am sure!

Am I?

For the time being

Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!

Shakespeare, Othello 3∙3∙350

That's not enough!

The thoughts are free, who's able to guess them?
They fly by like nocturnal shadows.
No man can know them, no hunter can shoot them,
with powder and lead: The thoughts are free!

I think what I want, and what does delight me,
yet always in stillness, and as it's complying.
My wish and desire can no one deny me
and so it will be: The thoughts are free!

And if I am thrown into darksome a dungeon,
all this would be but vain an endeavour,
because my thoughts tear the gates
and walls apart. The thoughts are free!

So I will renounce my sorrows forever,
and never again with whims will plague me.
One can in one's heart always laugh and banter
and think thereby: Die Gedanken sind frei!

(translation in progress :) sj)

Universal dialogue

Human masters: Globally, temperature must not exceed 2°C!

Universe: ...

Pain(t)ing history or: Human's got talent

Why would I while pondering about what Kseniya Simonova painted in sand (see previous post) suddenly come to think of Péter Esterházy and Patrick Desbois?

A touching story it was; a story in which - as a commenter stated - she 'united a grief of our people [i.e. the Ukrainian people], and also glory and pride, especially the victory over fascism'; a touching patriotic story that won her the contest "Ukraine's got talent".
Now is her specific talent such great that the sand-paintress could have painted any story in the sand to win the equivalent of 125,000 dollar, would you agree?

Any story?

Would she have enthusiastically been awarded the winner, had she told a story about those Ukrainian countrymen who enthusiastically welcomed the invaders and joined them? Those Ukrainian countrymen who helped to humanly, i.e. not (!) bestialically* kill Jews and Sinti and other human beings they obviously also considered subhuman?

Do I hear anybody say this would not have been clever an idea?

Well, such kind of (hi)story would not fit to any nations glory, hm?

Human's got talent to repress certain unpleasant details.
Some human's got even talent to deny certain unpleasant details.

End of the beforegoing.

And now to the opening question. As for Patrick Desbois, just follow this link, and - in case you speak English, French and/or German you will understand why I came to think of him. You won't find anything in Russian and Ukrainian, though.

As for Péter Esterhazy: I felt reminded of one sentence in his aureate speech when in 2004 he was awarded the Peace Price of the German Book Trade. Basically he said: All European nations do love the Germans. Blaiming them does spare us to deal with our own history.

The peace of the night.


* I decided to spare you details; at least for now.

Sand-artistic

Get amazed.

Holding out

All flowers of Seanhenge have departed. All flowers? No. not all —

for some indomitable autumn asters,

and marigold

still hold out against the frosty invader.

Too late, man!

Extremely exhausted

from watching Mrs J. digging and setting various bulbs

I intended to take a tiny nap, but ...

... alas!

Sharing responsibility with Liu Xiaobo

Liu Xiaobo

One year after his detention, yesterday Liu Xiaobo was formally indicted by the Beijing Municipal Procuratorate. Liu is charged with "inciting subversion of state power", a provision regularly used to silence writers in China. If convicted, Liu Xiaobo could face up to 15 years in prison.
The case will be heard by the Beijing No. 1 Intermediate People’s Court; and why would I not be surprised if injustice were dispensed while people like me are supposed to celebrate the so-called 'feast of love'.

Now do I know that clenching fists and wishing that all those Bastards of Beijing may lose their teeth except of one for permanent toothache does have about the same effect like a cucumber glass detonating in Caracas.

And I do ask myself, if - in case I were a Chinese living in China - I would have been amongst those 10,000 who signed Charter 08, of which Liu Xiaobo was one main architect, and: if I would have the courage to sign the following:

We Are Willing to Share Responsibility with Liu Xiaobo

Author：The cosigners of Charter 08

(December 10, 2009)

We, the Chinese citizens who have co-drafted or signed Charter 08 with, that Mr. Liu Xiaobo, have learnt that he is to face prosecution and be subjected to penalties, and so reaffirm our attitude once again:

1) We have always believed that China's development and progress must be based on the conditions that the human rights are fully protected, and that the justice can be fully realized, and that the rule of law tends to be completed, and the system turns to democracy. Otherwise, the society will only continue to result in abnormal prosperity, and the social wealth gap will be widening, and serious injustice will bring about the social conflicts. On this point of view, we have upheld the same ideas and pursuits as Mr. Liu Xiaobo has;

2) We are ready to sign Charter 08 and agree with its concepts, which is based on our concerns on the nation’s current and future situations, and also the performance of our civic responsibilities in accordance with the rights affirmed by the Constitution, and which we have never considered to be contrary to any of the existing laws and regulations;

3) If Mr. Liu Xiaobo is to be prosecuted for those above, then each of us is an integral part of his case, and the indictment of Mr. Liu Xiaobo is to put each of us on trial; if Mr. Liu Xiaobo is convicted, it is equivalent to condemn everyone of us as being guilty. We have no choice but bear punishment with Liu Xiaobo.

Well, so far 164 domestic co-signers of Charter 08 have signed to share responsibilities with Liu Xiaobo, and 41 overseas co-signers (see the list here).

Will ... ?

Ah!

The peace of the night.

Correcting myself

The prize recognised her ability to depict “with the concentration of poetry and the frankness of prose ... the landscape of the dispossessed”.


Who does not know me, could easily think I were an arrogant 'hm hm hm'.
Why?
Well, this was my comment when Jams O'Donnell mentioned on October 8th, that Herta Müller had won the Nobel Prize:

"And now she possesses 970,000 Euro. Besides, I do, for a change, agree with Günter Grass who welcomed the nomination as follows: "The members of the Nobel Prize Comitee will have their reasons why they chose Herta Müller."

A nasty reply / comment that was. Yes.
And yes! I know quite a few authors of whom I think ...
You, too? Lovely!
No, indeed. Never I shall need to read a book of her!
Why? 'cause after feeding myself for decades with reading / watching / witnessing atrocities I do just not need to be taught how horrible we can be. I do not need to read such things anymore FULLSTOP

But did you ever listen to Herta Müller? Did you watch her? Do you know (a tiny bit of) her biography?
Thus, again: There are quite a few authors of whom ... I would have thought that ... but ... what a woman!
And one day ... one day you will have listened to her ... you will agree.


... and one day ... one day ... who knows? i'll write the same about this years's Nobel Peace Prize Laureate. ? ? ? ? ? ?

Just for my dear readers

... for those who have been bearing me for quite a while, that is.

Sorry for not having answered your recent comments, yet.

As you know, mostly I'd try to answer, individually.

However, presently - presently?! :) - words do not come easy to me.

For this and that reason.

Ah! ... Do I see you leniently smile? :)

That's all I need, these days. Thank you so much.


No comments, please, as I do wish to delete this as soon as ... possible.

The peace of the night.

Pictures Reframed

Wordy Wednesday IX

Voilà.
As many things would come in threes,
why not three fine pieces of writing?

No doubt reading them each will leave you impressed.

- Sullivan's Wall

- From the Bard of the Liberties to the Liberty of Westmoreland Street Bard

- miaow in the winter of my discontent.

Planet of Peace

Well, ... and as I came to know that coincidentally friends of mine only the other day were on a Holst-trip ...

:)

Cure-all for Climate

Herewith we declare within the next 60 years
to reduce the population of human beings on earth
to 50 percent of the population in 1350.

For all ?expref=next-blog visitors

Oh! You are just dropping by? Via ?expref=next-blog? Gosh! How boring?! Hm?! :)

Right you are. Surf on in peace, and may you find more interesting a blog. :)

... Well, and now nothing about Afghanistan, nothing about obvious liars ands shammers; nothing about Blackwater, nothing about idiots who call themselves either left or right; nothing about idiots who call themselves muslims, christians, jews, hindus - ha ha ha ha ha, did I forget any?; nothing about ...

Ah! No child abused. No woman raped. No man raped or raping himself.

No politician, no cleric lying, no scientist cheating ... for whatever reason.

Here's just a simple sunset:


Enjoy. Forget about those who love war; forget about those who just can't afford to watch; forget about those who deep in their heart can't appreciate such trivial things like a sunset. Just forget those you will (probably) never come to know. Enjoy your life!

Isn't it wonderful?! I've found ... nah!! ... taken the leisure to write this; you have taken the time to read this - really??? ha ha ha.

Anyway. May you not get raped. May you have enough to drink and to eat. May no one surpress you.

Don't worry. Be happy.

The peace of the night.

Frying the shammers

Oscar Wilde would have been delighted. Perhaps he is?



For those few who would not know Stephen Fry.

And here his blog which is - although not listed among them :) - seldom boring.

Immortal

Eric Woolfson, March 18th, 1945 - December 2nd, 2009

Essay on the universal validity of tolerance

Thank you very much for your attention.

About democracy and tolerance

Some people would vehemently claim tolerance,

as long as they are not in the majority.

Ahem ...

What a photographer sees is not alway what he gets.

Same goes for O ... ah, take your choice.

εὕρηκα!*

:)



*

Orkney's Italian Chapel

A herewith highly recommended post at Sicily Scene about the Churchill-made Arandora Star-tragedy, reminded me of my surprise when on my first visit to a certain island I 'stumbled' upon ...

this very chapel.

Imagine you had been one of 550 Italians captured in North Africa and in 1942 being brought to the Orkney Islands, being forced to construct causeways to block German U-Boots from accessing Scapa Flow.

The name those four causeways got, by the way:

Churchill Barriers (sic!).

As you can read (at least) the essentials here, I do allow myself to indulge one of my favourite passions - do I detect a knowing simper on the lips of my experienced readers? :) - and restrict myself to offer some photographs.

The chapel

Its inside (photo taken freehand, without flash)

The 24 prisoners of war who did it.

Not il duce

 

And here some more lines in Italian, just for Lady Limoncello (and those whose native tongue is Italian).

Epilogue:

Why would an agnostic write a post about some Italians who a) were so stupid to follow a megalomaniac 'duce', b) be so stupid to let capture themselves, and finally c) in their rainy and stormy detention centre would start to build a chapel for someone/something who/that has - so far - not introduced her-/him-/itself as Her/His/Its godish Highness?

Answers:

1. (the ironic one) Just because it's a sign of hope. After all, out of approximately 500 prisoners of war only 24 were such silly full stop

2. (the first of two serious ones, and I do cut it but short): It's just amazing! Just amazing.

Finally, two questions:

Would Major T. P. Buckland have allowed to build a mosque?

Would a Muslim-Major (have) allow(ed) his Christian prisoners to build a chapel?

And a last thought for tonight; a thought that is ... yes! ... permanent part of Omnium: We all (!) could (!) know from history how ... have no adjective here ... war is. And still ... and still ... there has not yet been the one generation who was willing and able to immunise their children against those roothless and greedy few (!) who'd do their best to instigate envy and hate and ... wars.

And therefore:

Past is. Is presence. Impossible to let bygones be bygones or even forget about. It’s there. Is presence. And maybe herein lies the reason that we remain unable to learn from the past.

Up til infinity?

For how many years, decades ... millennia the majority will keep silence?

Chapeau, Monsieur Aznavour

Well, from a 70 year young lady to an 85 year young man: Charles Aznavour. Today a new album of Armenia's Ambassador to Switzerland was released.
Apart from that I shall prefer listening to his old chansons: What an artist; the more when comparing him to the many tiny squallers who think they were stars, not knowing they are at least 86 per cent bicycle*.



* Those few - although it is most unlikely they exist - who would not understand what I am refering to, as they happen to not being in possession of the master's complete œvre: Saddle your ponies, folks, and hurry up. The friendly, most well-educated and -sorted bookseller just round the corner will be happy to fill the gaps of your education and in your bookshelf.

Turning fools in Love

Not that I am a fan - fan is an abbreviation of fanatic, hm? :) -, but I admire here fire.
Thus on her 70th birthday:

Trashed - or: A circle of life

Those who have come to think they know Omnium (sic) a bit better will not be surprised when reading that sometimes - out of the blue - I could for half an hour watch butterflies dancing, bumble-bees humming from flower to flower and on a windy day leaves leaving a cherry-tree.

Why would a notorious lazy man feel such a joy in his heart watching a phenomenon that entails work?

Hm, does it entail work? Per se?

Trashed

When I fell to the ground

you walked all over me

even though I shaded you…

was it just yesterday?

Now you are going to rake me,

toss me in a bag

as if I'm some kind of monster

you need to eject.

Why don't you leave me be;

by springtime you will

never even know I was here .

Janice Thomson

What Lady Janice puts in poetry, Andrew Scott puts prosaic: [...] some people not too far away from me seem to regard every fallen leaf as a disgraceful piece of filth, to be tidied away as soon as possible. They are out every morning, frantically scooping up all the leaves and casting disapproving glances at the coppery golden carpet adorning my lawn.

And right both they are. Some people would overdo, acting like maniacs for housework or, in this case, maniacs for raking leaves.

Well, I am raking leaves, too ... and give them another job:

Seanhenge's chief-protectors of shrubs, trees, roses etc.; and after they have done a great job during winter, they get their deserved long rest, long enough to convert into young, strong and fresh humus.

And thus the cycle of life goes on ...

The day after

Ladies and gentlemen,
Dames en heren,
Bayanlar, Baylar,
Signoras e Signori,
Señoras y Señores,
Mesdames et Messieurs,
Friends,

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

soliloquy, blooming A ... or so

Stream of consciousness. In a blogpost? Lovely. Ha ha ha ha. I am not Molly Bloom, hm? Ah, a Joycean. Nah. Although, in a way. Four times? Four times that I read the 'Ulysses'? Five times? Yes. Five times. I think. Gosh. Did I write 'Yes'? "Plagiarism!!!!!!!!!!", I hear them shout, the heirs of the late James Joyce. And: "One million cun ... err ... punts for a Yes!" Fastards. Bucking. Sucking honey from the dead. Can't even spell the German philosopher´s name correctly. Phonetically, alright. Kant. But. Anal Ivia Plurabelle. Language, Sir. Language! Language? Language = Ethic = Fairplay. Thierry Henry. God's hand. Frog's hand. To be fair: Would Robby Keane have beseeched the referee: "No goal, ref. No goal. I played the ball with my hands"? Hypocrisy. Punt. Pound. Euro. Guinea, Guinness. Guinnessis. Money money money. Mon(d)ey. Monday? It's Thursday, isn't it? Thirsty. Thuirsdy. Nah! Not what you think. I'm drinking warm milk with honey. Bloody cold. Hm. Interesting. Do they say it´s every six seconds a child, a woman, a man dies of starvation? After all there can't exist poverty, hm?! 1,3 trillions being sacrificed each year to defend enduring global freedom. Praised be the defence (sic) industry. Malnutrition. No. No! Not in this lovely little village. See this tree?

Click to enlarge

Apples. Lots of apples. In front of the pub. Public tree. No one cares. No one is hungry. Otherwise ... Tomorrow morning I shall go and pick them. Up. Winter's coming. Hm? The blackbirds love apples. In winter, anyway. Lovely to watch them. Creatures. Hungry. In Seanhenge they will find food. Always. Ah! Watching them in the morning. While smoking a first cigarette on balcony. Phewwwwwwww! Smoking? Yep. Gosh, in the last moment. One ought always to have Mr Joyce's heirs in one's mind. Not to forget my former finance minister who when in 2003 once again raising the tobacco tax let me know that the more I smoke the more I support the 'war on terror', while the health minister ... Fucking hypocrites!! Sorry about this tiny aprosdoketon. There is something rotten ... not only ... in the state of ... Israel. I mean not only Joyce's heirs one ought to have in one's mind, but the peace-loving people of Israel, too. This sounds kafkaesque? Well, si. Mr Kafka(´s work) is national heritage, isn't he? National heritage? Well, at least heritage of the state of Israel, hm? After all, Kafka died only 24 years before Ben Gurion proclaimed a state of Israel. Shshhhhhh! A German ought not to write such naughty things. That's anti-semitism. Each Arab, Maltese etc. will get infuriated. Won't he? Not to speak of her. And what did the friendly looking elderly Turk in Bremen say three or four years ago when being asked about a most suprising campaign, in which the Turkish tabloid Hurriyet tried to elucidate that women are human beings, too, and that it's not nice to beat one's wife, at least not on a daily basis? "A man who does not beat his wife is not a man."
Ah, nuff written. What one cometh to think of within but a few minutes! Time to fall into the feathers, put my head on the pillow and have a dream: All semites and other machos with immediate effect do veil their faces up til infinity ... yes ... and walk four steps behind their wives ... yes ... when lugging the shopping bags. Yes.
The peace of the night.

Wordy Wednesday VIII

Again I do hope you will enjoy; and again I do ask you not to be as lazy as (mostly) I am. If you like what you read, leave a comment.
Not here. On the very blogger's site I am linking to.
I am quite sure they will appreciate your comments.
After all, (interesting) comments are the salt in the soup of any article, hm? :)

So, let's begin with my favourite:

Cause and effect

All you need is Awe and Humility - Finding the Right Attitude towards Life's Marvels

Why everyone must move to Finland, or not.

A little man against torture and torturers.

Interview with Egyptian blogger Wael Abbas:

... and deliver us from hypocrisy

World leaders convened at the FAO Headquarters for the World Summit on Food Security today unanimously adopted a declaration pledging renewed commitment to eradicate hunger from the face of the earth sustainably and at the earliest date.
The article ends:
Addressing FAO's Member States in all their official languages, the Pope concluded: "God bless your efforts to ensure that all people are given their daily bread."

Addressing the Pope, I conclude:

Cha líonann beannacht bolg.

A blessing does not fill a belly.

Grey day's ending

Still no divorce filed

What's new?

Well, first of all: It's Friday the 13th of November 2009, thus exactly 209 years and eight months after their wedding, and still the great grandparents of my grandfather have not filed for divorce.

See? There does really exist no reason for paraskavedekatriaphobia, at all!

Secondly: I wanted to spend the weekend in

Mrs. J. would rather have picknicked on top of

Looking for accommodation?

Compromise: We shall spend the weekend in and around

Seanhenge.

Alright, perhaps the name is a bit short. I shall ponder ...

The advantage of billionfold gay marriages

As Nevin asked for thoughts about gay marriage:

Well, what about looking on the bright side?

Two generations of billionfold gay marriages,
and the problem of overpopulation will be solved.

On celebrating remembrance

It's Remembrance Day.

I do it my way.

Controversial opinions ought not to be islands, hm? :)

To make it easy, though, in times of organised stupidity, when victims of a psychotic alienist (sic!) are getting praised as heroes*, just two links to posts about the matter.

Herewith I declare the bazaar - err - the discussion open.

Help yourself.

The red poppy signifies the yearly charade of concern for the UK's war dead and wounded is upon us.


At the going down of the sun ...
and in the morning, we will remember them.

Sláinte, Sire Schiller!

Geben Sie Gedankenfreiheit!
Give freedom of thought! *
Friedrich von Schiller , November 10th, 1759 - May 9th, 1805

To put it straight: In case I were an autograph collector, I'd give 100 Grass' and Goethes for one Schiller.

* The quotation above is incomplete?

You miss one word?
The word "Sire"?

Hm, let's look at Don Carlos, 3,10 on page 176 of Volume one of the complete edition from 1886, published by A. Warschauer Verlag, Berlin.

It's obviously neither Geben Sie Gedankenfreiheit, Sire! nor Sire, geben Sie Gedankenfreiheit!.

Why would most quotation collections then offer Sire, give freedom of thought! ?

Let's look a bit closer.

See the 'stage directions' after Gedankenfreiheit?

1. in the same line: Sich ihm zu Füßen werfend = Throwing himself at his feet
2. König / King (überrascht, etc = surprised, etc.)

Is it possible that some translator(s) in later (erroneously) added König / Sire to Marquis Posa's speech, and thus it became Sire, give freedom of thought?

Well, anyway, Friedrich, both we shall be able to live with this, shan't we? :)

In this sense [raising my tin chalice from 1905]: Sláinte, Sire!

Summer leaves

Some might say: Bravo Sean, who would have thought that when winter is in the air summer leaves?
Well ... :) ... this does not lack of logic.

In the Fog

Im Nebel

Seltsam, im Nebel zu wandern!
Einsam ist jeder Busch und Stein,
Kein Baum sieht den andern,
Jeder ist allein.

Voll von Freunden war mir die Welt,
Als noch mein Leben licht war;
Nun, da der Nebel fällt,
Ist keiner mehr sichtbar.

Wahrlich, keiner ist weise,
Der nicht das Dunkel kennt,
Das unentrinnbar und leise
Von allen ihn trennt.

Seltsam, Im Nebel zu wandern!
Leben ist Einsamsein.
Kein Mensch kennt den andern,
Jeder ist allein.

Hermann Hesse, November 1905

And here - fully aware that here and there it will sound strange - perhaps even foggy :) - to some native speakers - a humble attempt to translate as literally as possible.
Suggestions for improvement are, nevertheless, welcome.

In the Fog

Strange, to wander in the fog!
Alone each bush and stone,
No tree does see the other,
Each is alone.

Full of friends was my world
When still my life was light;
Now the fog descends
None is to be seen.

Verily, no one is wise
Who does not know the dark
Which inescapably and quietly
From everyone him separates.

Strange, to wander in the fog!
Life is loneliness.
No man knows the other,
Each is alone.

As for some crossroads

When reading an interesting little crosstalk about crossroads in the comment section to Stan's fascinating post Blather and blarney and blindfolding the devil which to read and enjoy herewith I do again wholeheartedly recommend, it crossed my mind that once in the past millennium with great interest I read this book.


Well, actually I had just been after - sic! :) re-reading it only a couple of weeks before, which was the more interesting, as the reader had the advantage to know more about the past 13 years than the contributors while writing their essays.

John Hume, f.e., could not know that in 13 years time there'd be a heated discussion whether a majority of the Irish in the(ir) second referendum about the so-called Lisbon-Treaty within one year should vote "Yes" or once again "No".

Still, his essay Everything is Political in a divided Society could easily be written in September 2009.
Judge yourself.
Here's a short excerpt taken from “Arguing at the Crossroads – Essays on a changing Ireland”, 1997, pp 105/106:

"[...] The renewal of Ireland is scarcely thinkable outside the process of the development of a political and cultural Europe. [...] It (the EU; sj) is the greatest example of conflict resolution in the history of humanity. Nations who for centuries invaded each other, occupied each other’s territories, expelled each other’s peoples and massacred each other, came together freely to bury their old hatreds. [...] But the fact that these nations have preserved their identities is even more encouraging. It proves that institutions can be created to pursue common objectives without sacrificing Europe’s diversity of culture and traditions.

[...] The more people are given responsibility for their future, the more they show their ability to take such responibility. The more people believe that their political institutions belong to them, the more effective those institutions will be.
[...] Working for a new Ireland in a new Europe [...] It is time to look honestly at the virtues and defects of our society and find new answers capable of preparing us for the challenges which lie ahead. It is time to paint a realistic portrait of society and to abandon the consolation of outmoded imaginary mental pictures. We need the courage to imagine new perspectives which will help us to formulate answers to the questions of social diversity, possible political institutions and the eventual resolution of our conflict."

Trying to put some things in context

Face to Face with Bertrand Russell

Why waiting another thousand years?

Imagine, already those approximately 6.5 billion human beings living today would behave and act accordingly ...

Crescent Nebula

Please click to enlarge

NGC 6888 (Crescent Nebula)

Dedicated to those (earthlings)
who think they were the cream of all universes
and even those not yet discovered.

*

An ideal couple, the astrophysicist and I,
I watch the wor(l)d, he observes the sky.

No personal note

Days I enjoy

Days I enjoy are days when nothing happens,
When I have no engagements written on my block,
When no one comes to disturb my inward peace,
When no one comes to take me away from myself
And turn me into a patchwork, a jig-saw puzzle.

A broken mirror that once gave a whole reflection,
Being so contrived that it takes too long a time
To get myself back to myself when they have gone.
The years are to strictly measured, and life too short
For me to afford such bits of myself to my friends.

And what have I to give to my friends in the last resort?
An awkwardness, a shyness, and a scrap,
No thing that's truly me, a bootless waste,
A waste of myself and of them, for my life is mine
And theirs presumably theirs, and cannot touch.

Vita Sackville-West (1892-1962)

The leaves are falling

Camouflage perdu.