Winter is in the Air

"See there! See there, Timotheus,
Behold the cranes of Ibycus!"

15 minutes ago:
Those who in February were harbingers of spring,
while passing Seanhenge singing their "Farewell".

Clandestini

Italian is a beautiful language.

Imagine an Italian speaking ...

f.e., the word clandestini.

Clan - des - ti - ni.

Ah, it's music, isn't it?

Well, the right voice, and il - le - gal(e) sounds sweet as well, hm?

Illegal(e) is just another word for clandestino, clandestina, clandestini.

Völkerwanderung (wandering of the people) is a / the German word for migration.

Ever heard about the migration period?

And:

Do you remember what Deng Xiaoping once offered Jimmy Carter when the US-President insisted on speaking about human rights?
Basically:
How many Chinese do you wish me to let accompany you on your return-flight? Ten millions? Fifty millions? 100 millions?
It is said that Mr Carter immediately changed the topic.

Clandestini - illegals.

A very very difficult topic. And very a complex one.

Too complex for me to put all aspects into a short post.

Yesterday I heard a song, though. The CD's title: Clandestini.

Don't know why, but immediately I thought of some posts by Welshcakes Limoncello.
There have been quite a few about this topic in recent years, but when reading this one from April 14th (The sea has no generosity) and this one from June 17th ( (Il silencio del mare), you will almost know what I think about one aspect.

And, although it is / seems nowadays but a platitude, I like it:
Everyone is illegal - almost everywhere.

In this sense: Here's Manu Chao.

A gem for Joyceans ...

... and those (perhaps / hopefully) to come.
Praised be Chris god-free Morals for sending me the link(s) to following gem(s), taken from a series called "Great Modern Writers".
Enjoy!

Wordy Wednesday VII

Hm. Those who decided to bear me for the past two years will remember.
After a long interval - and lots of drafts ha ha ha ha - I think it's time for a revival of what once I decided to call Wordy Wednesday.

What's different? The blogger being less "wordy". :)

So:

- a bit of poetry for the beginning. Ahh! And by no means let make yourself angry.

- what's to be said about Mr Polanski's supporters?

- in case you did not ever hear about (literally) fucking priests.

- in case you are not sure what's lynching.

- You don't have a Law Breakers Union, yet?

A wonder! A wonder!

02:55 a.m. - burglar enters a house.

02:57 a.m.- police gets an alarm call.

19 minutes later the burglar is caught.

Policeman: You have been identified at 02:56 a.m. burg....

Burglar [interruping]: Impossible.

Policeman: ?

Burglar [showing his watch]: It's 02:16 a.m.

Policeman (if clever): Well, rather I'd say we caught a thief 39 minutes before he committed his crime.

- - -

Clocked back? :)

Have a nice winter-time.

Honoris causa

Trying to not manipulate visitors who are just stumbling upon Omnium, I do - for the beginning - but ask to read this post and the comments, and afterwards let the author, his commenters and me know your thoughts, your opinion.

After having slept thrice, I shall let you know my thoughts.
Until then,
the peace of three nights.

Four days later (October 23rd)

Why would I wait even four days?
Well, once again in the deepest den of my heart suddenly the snakes Irony and Sarcasm woke up - or rather were awaken* - and since they were darting, trying to lure my fingers to squirt their venom via keyboard into the blogosphere. And no one and nothing able to becalm these creatures.

* Honestly I am against honor crimes but this time I really don’t feel sorry for her I agree with u Nas ….. allah gave us brain to think and consider our actions ….. but I just don’t understand why the boy friend don’t get the same punishment …. Why it’s always the girl ?

My quest to withstand the tempters seemed almost lost, when fortunately I heard Karl Popper whispering:

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.

And although Sir Karl - out of sheer politeness, or did he think a man would for no reason think of stabbing a woman with a knife, let alone with a sword? - did not speak of utterly stupid women talking nonsense, - both snakes cuddled close, coiled up, fell smilingly asleep, and I knew: It's over - for this time.
Well, and apart from this, it was not my intention to write about certain mathematics teachers' wealth of mental poverty. The more as some commenters did it, and ... the mathematics teacher proved she could at least put two and two together and decided to not post a fifth comment.
Still, I ask you to keep above's quotation in your mind.

End of the beforegoing.

Learning his unwed daughter is pregnant, a father takes his sword and kills her and the unborn creature.
It happens every day. Those who know me a little, know what I think and thus would not expect me to post about such a singular case. And right they are. Rather I found interesting that a blogger would focus and repeatedly insist on the victim's stupidity / ignorance.

And as I am part of "anyone else" (#27):

this is not being used to justify anything. my opinion is simple on this matter and it is outlined in comment #5. you dont run in to a burning building without the knowledge that there is a high chance of getting burnt, even if your purpose is a noble one.

What an interesting mindset.
Translating it:
I don't support honour-killings - actually, I really don't like honour-killings, but in this very case the victim should have known better. Thus, it's (also) her fault.

Quite! And cynism is the intellectual cripple's substitute for intelligence.

Following this kind of logic, the Anna Politkovskayas, Hrant Dinks and José Carrascos on this planet ought not to complain in their coffins, hm? They should have known better, hm?

And the barber in Pakistan whose throat has been cut about two years ago was an absolutely silly sod to open a shop in an area where quite a few men consider the shaving of beards a sacrileg, hm?

And those women (gang-)raped in Kongo and elsewhere: If they don't consider sweet and honourable to getting (gang-)raped for their country*,why would they not take a plane and leave the war area, those unpatriotic bitches, hm? They should (have) know(n) both that (gang-)raping is part of war culture, and that it is part of our culture to consider a woman who would allow one, five or twenty heroes to rape her disgustingly befouling the honour of her family and their honourable neighbours, hm?

Do I hear a mother sadly nod and murmur? "Praised be our culture. Imagine I had not circumcised her. She might have wished the pleasure to never end."

End of the beforegoing.

And herewith I am approaching the essential interior inherent essence which - as is well known - is hidden in the roots of the kernel of everything, and thus in this blogpost, too.

1. Murder is murder is murder ...

2. Traditions are not good, per se.

How to overcome traditions which rather than being good are harmful?

[...] fighting honor crimes is to identify why people believe what they do, and those beliefs are inherently attached to locations, origins and local culture. [...]

Hört, hört! Who would have thought this?

1. Honour crimes (would honourable people commit a crime?) are no cultural accomplishment.
2. Neither they belong to those traditions (like f.e. hospitality) which are worth to be conserved, and where (almost) lost worth to be revived.

Ergo: When people claim killing in order to revive (sic!) what they call their honour to be a cultural accomplishment, a tradition, at best it is a harmful cultural accomplishment, a harmful tradition; a tradition that like FGM (Female Genital Mutilation) once upon a time has been conceived by men to demonstrate and assure their superiority.
Literally - and I hope you will not mind the following aprosdoketon - we thus are talking about fucking machos.

Well, how to overcome harmful traditions? À la General Napier?

"You say that it is your custom to burn widows. Very well. We also have a custom: when men burn a woman alive, we tie a rope around their necks and we hang them. Build your funeral pyre; beside it, my carpenters will build gallows. You may follow your custom. And then we will follow ours."

Well, as long as such a threat is not empty, is able to convince.

Rather I'd prefer to positively convince.
It is possible.
I remember Rupert Neudeck telling about a project in Ethiopia. It took years of burning patience. At the end the men decided that from now on (in their tribe) no girl, no woman should get circumcised, anymore.
And there had no gallows been erected to convince them.
It is possible!

So why should not be possible to convince at least the vast majority of those who think it's a matter of honour to kill ones daughter, sister, niece for this and that reason?

As for the rest: They should be given the chance to contemplate - in prison. For a couple of years. And if then they are still convinced it was their legitimate right to kill, well, then they may stay where they are. And I wish them a long life, and both slowly and painfully rotting testicles.

Oh dear, whereto has my taciturnity disappeared?

And who am I to globally criticise certain local cultures? A bloody degenerated Westerner who would let his opinion build by all those liars of the mainstream media?

Oh, yes! It's my own fault. Didn't I know the risk? Didn't I know what might happen when writing such a blogpost? :)

Yes, I know ... but ...

A beautiful rhetorical gem, isn't it? And certainly not a local one. You would find it in any language. Correct me if I am wrong.

I have nothing, absolutely nothing against foreigners, but ...
Nothing against education, but ... it's nothing for women.
Honestly I am against honor crimes but ...
What you say sounds plausible, but ...
I see your point, but ... you are comparing apples with oranges.

Ha ha ha, just coming to think of what my dear Turkish seanachie once wrote - fully aware, by the way, of the risk that he might go to hell when defending the bikini:

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.

Such a lovely end, would you agree?

Thus I shall stop - not end - here, smilingly retreat under the rocks of Seanhenge and silently ponder about ... this and that.

But :) a final remark:
Those who feel offended, are meant.

And for connoisseurs an old Chinese saying:
"Those who feel insulted by others confess to their mental / intellectual inferiority."

The peace of the night.

Cecilia senza coltellino

The fundamental evil ...

... of the world arose from the fact
that the good Lord has not created enough money.

Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)

Foil vs. Sabre

[Contemporaries who are not fond of language: Please skip this post.]

Don't we all think we know quite a few contemporaries who have a great deal of sense outside their head?
Do I see you nodding?
And smiling?
Well, most of you will be smiling at the picture this phrase is painting in - not outside :) - their head. Right?
And most of us - yes! Me too. - tend to use rather the sabre than the foil when it comes to praise ... let's say the lack of certain contemporaries' intelligence, or those whose richness of mental poverty is enormous.
The more delighted I was when yesterday reading this very post of my dearest English teacher, Stan (Carey).
If there was any need, it strengthened my conviction that Them bleedin' cuss words are not the non plus ultra of swearing.

I know that Stan when reading this does feel good and at the same time somehow embarrassed, and who would not, but: I do mean it.

I love the idea that those of my readers who love the English language would not only read the blog post commended above but, after reading it, feel the wish to discover the whole blog. It is worthwhile!

Ha ha ha ... and I like thinking of all the big and tiny mistakes Stan will discover while reading this.

Head over then, and one day - perhaps :) - I'll be able to tell what (deep) impact on my way of thinking had books like this ...

... and this

Anything to declare?

Nothing but my genius. Oscar Wilde,*October 16th, 1854

This is just "Adios"

Al Martino, October 7th, 1927 - October 13th, 2009

Riposa in Pace!

Anchors aweigh!

Memento mori*

* and sometimes it would sound like Carpe diem - which is about quite the same.

It's done

My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree
Toward heaven still,
And there's a barrel that I didn't fill
Beside it, and there may be two or three
Apples I didn't pick upon some bough.
But I am done with apple-picking now.
Essence of winter sleep is on the night,
The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight
I got from looking through a pane of glass
I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough
And held against the world of hoary grass.
It melted, and I let it fall and break.
But I was well
Upon my way to sleep before it fell,
And I could tell
What form my dreaming was about to take.
Magnified apples appear and disappear,
Stem end and blossom end,
And every fleck of russet showing clear.
My instep arch not only keeps the ache,
It keeps the pressure of a ladder-round.
I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend.

And I keep hearing from the cellar bin
The rumbling sound
Of load on load of apples coming in.
For I have had too much
Of apple-picking: I am overtired
Of the great harvest I myself desired.
There were ten thousand thousand fruit to touch,
Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall.
For all
That struck the earth,
No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble,
Went surely to the cider-apple heap
As of no worth.
One can see what will trouble
This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is.
Were he not gone,
The woodchuck could say whether it's like his
Long sleep, as I describe its coming on,
Or just some human sleep
Robert Frost, 1914

If - not the song, but ...

About three weeks ago Nevin posted a poem her father had send to her: Rudyard Kipling's "If".

In the comment section Webwisewoman mentioned that once she had heard the poem put in music, but could not remember by whom; whereupon Nevin wrote: "If anyone else does, please let us know..."

Well, Myladies, I tried but did not succeed.

However, I stumbled upon ... the poet's voice.

Enjoy.





With thanks to Jim Clark (poetryanimations).

Alternative to "Busting Bunkers"

Fashionable article

[...] if you wait long enough, fashion comes around again.

Now, ladies and gentlemen.

Where would one stumble upon such an old wisdom?

Think thrice.

Now?

No?

Want a little help?

Well, on a website registrated in the wonderful land of the Peace Nobel Prize Winner 2009.

Still no clue?

Well, take your time.

. . .

Congratulations, anyway, if you guessed the right answer.

And ... the peace of the night.

Happy birthday, Mr Putin ...

... one does not have to wish, hm?
Surely the gentleman enjoys a most happy day with all his dear friends, and everyone will have done his best to make the flawless democrat happy.
I wonder which one was the most special present today.

Three years ago, October 7th, 2006 some admirers intended to surprise (?) their beloved President with a very very special present - and assassinated Anna Politkovskaya.

Well, and here's a List of murdered Russian journalists.

The McGonagalls of Tunes

As everybody knows Omnium, which means all, thus everyone and everything, demand(s) a statue for William Topaz McGonagall, who can rightfully claim to be the world's worst poet ever, only - to a certain degree - challenged by a certain James McIntyre, whose Ode on a Mammon Cheese I warmly commend to read here.

One of the Tayside Tragedian's uncounted masterpieces you will find offered by Jams O'Donnell Esq, the master of The Poor Mouth; and don't miss the poetry slam in the comment section, which partly took place here, too.

End of the beforegoing.

Like Stephen Hawking is trying to find the Theory of Everything (ToE) the esteemed Mr Goatman asks "What is ART?" Precisely: Does there exist a definition? Is it possible to define ART?

I suggest a study trip to Edinburgh, as in McGonagalltown he might find some essential tesserae for his ToA (Theory of Art).

Ah, no more words
See and - above all - listen yourself.

Here's The Really Terrible Orchestra (RTO)

Enjoy.

Another guttural Sláinte, Sir

Same procedure as last year and the year(s) before?

Same procedure as every year!

Well, almost. This time you've to read 69 and 98.


Enough written.

I am off now with my only man to meet the birthday child in 'The Dalkey Archive', wishing him - accompanied by a very guttural Sláinte - the best of Omnium, if you know what I mean.

Gracias, Mercedes Sosa

Mercedes Sosa (9 July 1935 – 4 October 2009)

All these fucking voters

Sometimes when talking about stupidity in general and in particular I'd ( like to) say that
I do not only agree with Bernard Shaw but am convinced not 98 but 99,99 percent of human being should not be allowed to cast a vote.

"Oh my god. And you do, of course, belong to the 0,01 per cent."

"Of course, my dear. However, for something completely different. When in private, please just call me Sean."

Well, that's a 30 and some years old running gag between Mrs. J. and me.

Now would not many people know me as well as Mrs J. does ("One can never be sure whether you are serious, joking or provoking.").

People who do not know me might therefore not get puzzled, but think "What a fucking arrogant cunt of an asshole!"

Mind you!! I am not swearing and thus making one step backwards on my quest to become the politest blogger in this universe and those yet to discover! Just quoting what some people might think I am.

End of the beforegoing.

As I did not tell you cannot know there has not only been a thrilling election campaign in Germany, but even an election.

Apropos election. Congress in Iran. Voting in the 21st Century. A participant from Zimbabwe standing together with one from China, the whole culminating in following dialogue:
- Do you have elections in China, too?
- Elections. Oh yes! Evely molning, evely molning.

Well, back to German politics. May I assure you they (the German politicians) don't cause erections?
Or?
Well, erecting middlefingers, if one does interprete the party which came second correctly - the party of the non-voters (28,2 per cent).

Which is why one - if not the most neutral nonpartisan and unbiased - tabloid said nearly half of Germans polled ahead of the parliamentary elections were in favo(u)r of introducing compulsory voting. Full article here.

Excuse me. Compulsory voting? 100 percent of the 99,99 percent idiots forced to give evidence of their idiocy, so that above mentioned 0,01 percent have to suffer?

Blimey!

Well, I am but a German. Almost none of my readers are. Which is why Germany's foreign minister to come very probably would not be a regular reader of this blog. [Although he could learn a bit English here - by reading the comments of native speakers].

Anyway, let's speak in general. About Ireland, f.e..
Will the majority of the Irish voters have yesterday said "Yes" or "No" during the(ir) second (!) referendum about the so-called Lisbon-Treaty?

To explain the exclamation mark behind second: I wonder, when politicians will start to accept a No.
Got it? Only about one year ago in a referendum the majority of the Irish voted "No"!

Mind you!
Those Irish voters who voted "Yes" - well, at least some of them - would have prefered that No-voters should not have been allowed to vote, due to their utter stupidity.

I do not know the result of today's referendum, but I am pretty sure:
In case the EU-lobby does not need to plan a third referendum in Ireland, those Irish voters who (yesterday) voted "No" - well, at least some of them - would prefer that Yes-voters should not have been allowed to vote, due to their utter stupidity.

Got it?

If not, don't worry. Politics is very very complicated.

Ah! You mean this post is a mess?

Ha ha.

Of course! If I'd be clever I could make at least ten posts of this.

A perfect sentence, by the way. The one above. 14 words. Fucking perfect.One word more (means: the 15th), and most people would not be able to understand it - according to the most intelligent masters of one German news agency.

Calm down. The German news agency does, of course, only think the average German to be too stupid to understand the meaning of a sentence containing more than 14 words.

For reborn US-Americans - just to give an example - 13 or perhaps less words might be too many/much.

Anyway, forget both the stupid Germans and the stupid US-Americans.

This post is not about them.

This post is a) about discussing a political question, about b) them bleedin' cuss words and about c) the question if suffrage should be universal.

. . .

In case you do not wish to follow the given links, do not follow your wish.
While Bock the Robber since September 22nd offers the chance to discuss the pro & contra of a Yes or No to the so-called Lisbon Treaty, one day later Miss Mogg asked - to cut her (provocative) question short - if there should indeed be "one (wo)man one vote".

Well, and the "Egg" - doubtful at his best - is arguing for thinking twice or thrice before f.e. writing a very German philosopher's name phonetically right but de facto wrong.

Ha ha ha ...

I enjoyed this.
And you?
Omg? :)
Ah, may I remind you? OmS would do. :)

Anyway, what's your vote?

Oh! You did not understand the question(s)?

Here they are, again! In less than 14 words.

What do you think about
- one (wo)man one vote, (regardless of any individual stupidity)
- and about swearing in general?

Without bashing an eyelid
wishing
the peace of the night.

(Y)our shadow knows all ...

I was yesterday under the good leaves, sheltering from the rain under a green cloak of birch leaves, waiting like a young fool for Gwen with Helen's brow; when Standing dismally before me face to face, I saw a figure; at which, though it stood mild and harmless, I shuddered, and against some evil Visitation crossed my body with a holy charm.

"Speak! Break your silence! If you are a man, what are you?"

"I! - I am your shadow, strange. For Mary's sake be silent, and not hinder me from telling you ... kindly, I am come here, and stand naked at your side, showing you by enchantment, your own image.

"Why should you, a sheltered shrinking creature, follow me? Are wages paid you, long-legged scarecrow, by Jealousy, that cold and wailing wolf, for watching me?"

"Dear man, I am no spreading ghost, no hideous chimera ..."

"Then what? A giant's offspring? A bald and monstrous spirit? No more of a doddering old man an apparition of bitter yet not even in your shape a man; with the shanks of a hag limping on black crutches; herdsman of a foul pack of ghosts, bogey in a bald monk's form! Like the heron that plucks at the reeds of the bog, or rises on ghostly shanks over the corn, with the face of a palmer and a blockhead rolled in an old rag, your back smeared dark with mud Where were you rolled then? In the muck of the farmyard?"

"Secretly I follow you for ever among the pleasant woods: weak though I am, remarking your deceits and thousand tricks. Your whole day I could describe to you, and this I know ..."


"Which of my faults should you know, more than the whole world knows? You with your pitcher's neck, the devil's dung to you! I've not disowned my country, nor killed a dog, you slanting shadow! Nor killed hens with a hurling-stone, nor frightened little children, nor have I offended against virtue, in interfering with strange women!"

"But if I told these things I know to some who do not know them, then would their rage quickly be loosed and ... faith! You would be crucified!"

"Then draw a knot tight against publishing these things, and on these faults of mine, sew up your lips against the world."

Dafydd ap Gwilym

May the sun flower ...

... and both you and I enjoy a golden October. :)