Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Just a daily phenomenon
The last potatoes digged up, the field rakened and green manure sowed, one morello tree shortened by about two metres, peppermint and sage picked and dried;
... that happened end of August. Ah! And the magic of all those flowers ...
Meanwhile almost four weeks have flown by; since, there has happened quite a lot on this planet quite a few of which you might even have come to "know" as it has been covered in (y)our media.
One daily news you will neither have read in your daily newspaper nor heard elsewhere, though, as being published / told day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year, decade by decade that yesterday approximately 30 / 40,000 children have been dying of starvation would be bloody depressing ... well, at least damn boring, would you agree?
Life is difficult enough to thoroughly enjoy, isn't it? If only I think of that the other day a bit too much sea-salt in the tomatoe soup spoilt my dinner.
Who in our civilised world would be able to care about how many women have been raped in Congo or elsewhere, while I was kept busy with picking plums, for hours? I mean, it's not my or your business. I can't change anything, can I? And neither can you, hm?
Not that I would not feel pity, whenever I come to think of it for some seconds now and then; but that's life, isn't it?
One is getting raped, a second tortured, a third murdered, while I am busy with watching butterflies and (bumble-)bees enjoying their kind of milk and honey that is flowing in Seanhenge, and while you perhaps are struggling with what outfit to choose for tomorrow's dinner party.
Ah, I should not have started this. Did I write 30,000 children per day?
That means, 750,000 children within 25 days, doesn't it? Phew!
Coming to think of it: Isn't it wonderful, magic well-nigh, that despite of this marginal phenomenon not worth to daily make its way into the news, there are living more than six billion human beings on this wonderful planet, thus about four times more than when I was born, about half a century ago?
Thinking positive - and aren't we told to always think positive?! - we are blessed that day by day 30- / 40,000 children are dying of starvation, aren't we?
Ah, no! Really! See? Such easily a post's content is being manipulated by thoughts about marginal daily phenomenons that are not worth mentioning.
Let alone, that I can be absolutely sure that those who are reading this are able to distinguish cynism from sarcasm, it's a great relief to know that most of those poor? nameless? anyway: unnamed creatures - and I am not talking about those 40,000 children who day by day are leaving this planet to enjoy life in this or that paradise, depending of the god their still somehow surviving parents are made to believe in - are analphabets.
In this sense.
A most joyous weekend to those
able to read.
May your god bless you,
and if it (read: your god) were the head of a dead sardine.
Enjoy
the peace of the night ...
in which - provided you are sleeping eight hours - approximately some more than 10,000 children are dying of starvation.
... that happened end of August. Ah! And the magic of all those flowers ...
Meanwhile almost four weeks have flown by; since, there has happened quite a lot on this planet quite a few of which you might even have come to "know" as it has been covered in (y)our media.
One daily news you will neither have read in your daily newspaper nor heard elsewhere, though, as being published / told day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year, decade by decade that yesterday approximately 30 / 40,000 children have been dying of starvation would be bloody depressing ... well, at least damn boring, would you agree?
Life is difficult enough to thoroughly enjoy, isn't it? If only I think of that the other day a bit too much sea-salt in the tomatoe soup spoilt my dinner.
Who in our civilised world would be able to care about how many women have been raped in Congo or elsewhere, while I was kept busy with picking plums, for hours? I mean, it's not my or your business. I can't change anything, can I? And neither can you, hm?
Not that I would not feel pity, whenever I come to think of it for some seconds now and then; but that's life, isn't it?
One is getting raped, a second tortured, a third murdered, while I am busy with watching butterflies and (bumble-)bees enjoying their kind of milk and honey that is flowing in Seanhenge, and while you perhaps are struggling with what outfit to choose for tomorrow's dinner party.
Ah, I should not have started this. Did I write 30,000 children per day?
That means, 750,000 children within 25 days, doesn't it? Phew!
Coming to think of it: Isn't it wonderful, magic well-nigh, that despite of this marginal phenomenon not worth to daily make its way into the news, there are living more than six billion human beings on this wonderful planet, thus about four times more than when I was born, about half a century ago?
Thinking positive - and aren't we told to always think positive?! - we are blessed that day by day 30- / 40,000 children are dying of starvation, aren't we?
Ah, no! Really! See? Such easily a post's content is being manipulated by thoughts about marginal daily phenomenons that are not worth mentioning.
Let alone, that I can be absolutely sure that those who are reading this are able to distinguish cynism from sarcasm, it's a great relief to know that most of those poor? nameless? anyway: unnamed creatures - and I am not talking about those 40,000 children who day by day are leaving this planet to enjoy life in this or that paradise, depending of the god their still somehow surviving parents are made to believe in - are analphabets.
In this sense.
A most joyous weekend to those
able to read.
May your god bless you,
and if it (read: your god) were the head of a dead sardine.
Enjoy
the peace of the night ...
in which - provided you are sleeping eight hours - approximately some more than 10,000 children are dying of starvation.
Labels:
gardening,
Miscellanies,
Seanhenge
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Not my kind of music, but ...
... who cares? It was not his fault, anyway.
This man was kind of a genius.
Happy birthday, Mr. Robinson. :)
This man was kind of a genius.
Happy birthday, Mr. Robinson. :)
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Proms & Prospects
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 treat.
Enjoy.
And as tonight I did especially enjoy this Haydn piece, voilà!
Well, and as after all today's picking and digging, cutting and planting I am not sure whether I shall tomorrow be able to move my arms and fingers, I do not only wish my esteemed readers
the peace of the night,
but
a joyous Sunday
and already
a smooth start into the coming week.
:)
As I just watched this year's 'Last night of the Proms', I thought you might also like a musical bed-time treat.
Enjoy.
And as tonight I did especially enjoy this Haydn piece, voilà!
Well, and as after all today's picking and digging, cutting and planting I am not sure whether I shall tomorrow be able to move my arms and fingers, I do not only wish my esteemed readers
the peace of the night,
but
a joyous Sunday
and already
a smooth start into the coming week.
:)
Labels:
Alison Balsom,
Elgar,
Haydn,
Last Night of the Proms,
Seanhenge
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Neither can a donkey
Monday, September 07, 2009
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Natural Arts: Priscilla Potato
In front of the stone, where once strawless Berry sat,
pondering about his mission,
smilingly stands Priscilla Potato* - without hat,
but obviously having a lovely vision.
To cut it this time slightly shorter,
it's not about a pint of porter.
No. Obviously following her vision
Priscilla changes the position.
pondering about his mission,
smilingly stands Priscilla Potato* - without hat,
but obviously having a lovely vision.
To cut it this time slightly shorter,
it's not about a pint of porter.
No. Obviously following her vision
Priscilla changes the position.
Like a fakir on his bed of nails
she meditates,
and although it may sound corny
comes to the conclusion
that often love is rather thorny
and can end in deep confusion.
she meditates,
and although it may sound corny
comes to the conclusion
that often love is rather thorny
and can end in deep confusion.
Rather then an end like Finn!
And thus she spake:
Don't say Nay.
Eat me, for love's sake.
Which I did. And what delish.
By the way:
With Priscilla I had fish.
And afterwards a drop of Gin.
humbly dedicated to the Topaz of Poetry
by Mc Seanagall
And thus she spake:
Don't say Nay.
Eat me, for love's sake.
Which I did. And what delish.
By the way:
With Priscilla I had fish.
And afterwards a drop of Gin.
humbly dedicated to the Topaz of Poetry
by Mc Seanagall
* For some moments I felt tempted to underline the beauty of Priscilla's smiling lips with a touch of fuchsia-red, but then the art would not have been natural, anymore, hm?
Labels:
Mc Seanagall,
Natural Arts,
Seanhenge
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
Just a question 0001
What do you think when coming to think ...
... about love.
Yes!
Right now (!) I am determined to ask my readers 1,ooo questions.
Please, feel free. Write your thoughts without fltres.
Be aware of that this very first questions might be (one of) the most difficult. :)
... about love.
Yes!
Right now (!) I am determined to ask my readers 1,ooo questions.
Please, feel free. Write your thoughts without fltres.
Be aware of that this very first questions might be (one of) the most difficult. :)
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