If counted well the Germans today can/could watch Dinner for One (The 90th Birthday) 16 times at different times on various TV-channels, and apart from the original in various German dialects, inclusive Schwiizerdütsch (Swiss German). Very strange folks, the Germans. Well, judge for yourself.
Tiny tip-off: Be absolutely determined not to laugh.
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| Every year again Comes the Christ Child Down to earth Where we humans are. Stops with its blessing At every house Walks on all paths With us in and out. Merry Christmas, then, Goodwill to all people and Peace on Earth. |
Semperoper
Sächsische Staatskapelle Dresden (founded 1548)
Lorenzo Viotti *15 March 1990
Daniel Hope * 17 August 1973
Hanna-Elisabeth Müller * 3 May 1985
To enjoy on youtube
Paco de Lucía (21 December 1947 – 25 February 2014)
Pepe de Lucia - vocal
Ramon de Algeciras - guitar
Juan Manuel Canizares - guitar
Carlos Benavent - bass
Jorge Pardo - saxophone & flute
Rubem Dantas - percussion / cajón flamenco
Joaquin Grilo - dancer
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| I often feel, and ever more deeply I realize, that fate and character are the same conception. |
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| Moc Bezmocných* (1978) literally translated: The Power of the Powerless * The German publishers titled: Versuch, in der Wahrheit zu leben (Attempt to Live in Truth) 1980 / 1989 / 1990 * The English title: Living in Truth (1986) |
Václav Havel (5 October 1936 – 18 December 2011)
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| Natural Arts: Butterface on knife point |
* [For first time visitors]:
Typo in the title?
Nah.
It's just that
I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.
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| Today no beer. On Edna O'Brien's 90th birthday I shall raise a glass of wine on her good health. Sláinte, Saoi! Agus go raibh maith agat as gach. |
Today it's to be read on the frontpage of an English newspaper that Merkel wants Britain to crawl across broken glass.
Cited is an unspecified source as saying that the German chancellor was determined to see Britain suffer rather than reach a compromise on the sticking points of future government aid and fishing.
And who would not immediately and wholeheartedly believe?! After all it is coming from excellently educated journalists whose living is clean, whose manners are impeccable and who would never lie.
The more surprised I got, when my always trustworthy and absolutely reliable source let me know that she had heard by someone who knows the cousin of the doctor who had once got the opportunity to look in said journalist's brain, that instead of grey matter the one who had written the above has brown matter in his head.
Before I could ask for more details my always best-informed source went on:
"There is no need to worry for the average English(wo)man who does not only want her respectively his money but also her respectively his sovereignty back.
Alternative fact is that each week 350 million quid will be pumped into the NHS, farmers will become rich, and the blessed English sovereigns will not be able to eat all the fish brave English fisherman will bring back from sea, escorted and protected against all the evil fishermen from abroad."
I hardly could believe my ears.
Finally my extraordinary credible source quoted Heinrich Heine on his 223rd birthday:
"I have never seen an ass who wrote like a human being, but I have met many human beings who wrote like asses."
P.S. On request of A.Brit, readers may in their grey (sic!) matter replace England and English with GREAT Britain and British, because, of course, the people in Northern Ireland, in Scotland and Wales are blessed GREAT British sovereigns, too, and thus also will enjoy all the most wonderful fruits of what is their majority's will.
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| "Where one burns books one ultimately burns people." - Almansor, 1832 - |
Heinrich Heine (13. December 1797 – 17 February 1856)
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| Thanks, Saint Nicholas! This morning in my boots I found exactly the six books I had asked for. Plus: A bottle of Talisker. I almost fainted: of joy and disappointment. Had not my third wish been to find the author in my boot so that, after all, we could share the bottle?! Oh well, to prove my good will I shall drink each second wee dram on his behalf. Sláinte, Andrew! P.S. In a little note I just discovered where usually my toes are to be found, St. Nicholas let me know that it would have been his pleasure to present me with the author, "but your boots are to small". |
Fiorella Mannoia *4 April 1954
Padroni di niente
Passa, certo che passa
il tempo cammina e lascia la sua traccia
disegna una riga sopra la mia fronte
come fosse la linea di un nuovo orizzonte
cambia, la mia faccia cambia
cambia lamia testa, il mio punto di vista
la mia opinione sulle cose o sulla gente
cambia del tutto o non cambia per niente
E poi e poi e poi sarà che quando penso
di voler cambiare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece cambia me
e poi e poi e poi sarà che quando penso
di voler salvare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece salva me
Passa, è certo che passa
l’uomo cammina e lascia la sua traccia
costruisce muri sopra gli orizzonti
stabilisce confini, le leggi, le sorti
sbaglia, sbaglia chi non cambia
chi genera paura, chi alimenta rabbia
la convinzione che non cambierà mai niente
è solo un pensiero che inquina la mente
E poi e poi e poi sarà che quando penso
di voler cambiare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece cambia me
e poi e poi e poi sarà che quando sento
di voler salvare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece salva me
C’è che siamo padroni di tutto e di niente
c’è l’uomo non vede, non parla e non sente
qui c’è gente che spera in mezzo a gente che spara
e dispera l’amore
qui c’è chi non capisce che prima di tutto
la vita è un valore
e se fosse che stiamo davvero sbagliando
e facendo il più brutto dei sogni mai fatti
e se fosse che stiamo soltanto giocando
una partita di scacchi tra il nero ed il bianco
il nero ed il bianco
E poi e poi e poi sarà che quando penso
di voler cambiare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece cambia me
e poi e poi e poi sarà che quando sento
di voler salvare il mondo
poi succede che è lui che invece salva me
C’è che siamo padroni di tutto e di niente
c’è che l’uomo non vede, non parla e non sente
qui c’è gente che spera in mezzo a gente che spara
e dispera l’amore
qui c’è chi non capisce che prima di tutto
la vita è un valore
la vita è un valore
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| The German Lesson was one of his most remarkable novels. |
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| Himmerlandsgeschichten A rediscovery, published this year. Not in English, though. |
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| Voltaire – Frederick II Correspondence |
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| Each book a juwel. Look and see. All the Names Blindness Hellebarden (fragment) Seeing The Cave |
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| Beckett, Joyce, Flann O'Brien, Edna O'Brien O'Casey, O'Cadhain, O'Connor, O'Faolain, O'Flaherty, etc., etc., there're so many great Irish writers. And there's John McGahern. |
John McGahern (12 November 1934 – 30 March 2006)
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| Alright, a beer and a film. |
Every miserable fool who has nothing at all of which he can be proud, adopts as a last resource pride in the nation to which he belongs; he is ready and happy to defend all its faults and follies tooth and nail, thus reimbursing himself for his own inferiority.
Arthur Schopenhauer (22 February 1788 – 21 September 1860
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| Morale in times of globalisation - - I think in English the title is The Art of the Impossible |
Václav Havel (5 October 1936 – 18 December 2011)
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| Autumn colours |
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| on the golf course |
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| in the wood |
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| on its skirts |
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| and everywhere |
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| my eyes were walking. |
