Suntimes

Cul-de-sac.
Point of return.
I hesitated.

 

Beware of cheating

Weaker and weaker.
Week  by week.
Day by day.
Who cares?
Why?
As long as there are
such moments of joy ...

Would I know
there's not much time left
I might like to write
about veracity, tonight.

About manipulation,
about ethics,
(not only)
for journalists and photographers.

The peace of the night.

Just a thought

In case I am not to wake up tomorrow,
I shall not complain,
let alone regret.

Nothing to share

(Even when you are longing:)

Sadness can not be shared.

You may talk about to one person, to ten, to hundreds.

Even if being empathic: No one will feel the same. None will (be able to) share your sadness.

Same goes for love, for any of your feelings. They are unique. 

You are unique.

I am unique.

Hoorah!

The peace of the night.

... 

And what is when they grow 232 kg of sweet corn to produce one litre of ethanol?

Now, that's organised stupidity / crime.

I am not willing to share.

 

Kestrel, not in need of maize/ethanol.

Sky Geometry

Skymetry.

Neyebourhood Watch

Neyebours.

Tree, truth, trullala

Alliterations, no.
Beauty: Yes.
Charming? ... More. Much more.

Counterwindmillism

Sensational aerial photography of a valiant battle
in the Mancha Patata of Seanhenge.

Eyed like to know

Where will I go?
And when?

Splendid Eyesolation

Splendid eyesolation.

(Self-?) Portreye

(Self-?) Portreye

Laughing Lhursday

Victor Borge

Inflationary Language

Victor Borge

Interesting, isn't it?

Money in German means Geld.

(To) geld in English means to castrate.

A gelded horse in German is a Wallach.

A Wallach in English is a gelding.



Therefore: money is a gelding, hm?

Last question for tonight: How do geldings reproduce?

No clue?
Ask your trusted banker.
And to verify your banker's answer, ask your repesentative.

BP would like to clarify that ...

... contrary to some media reports ...

Thank you so much for clarifying, Big Prother.

Just repeating yesterday night's comment*

Pyrrhus Cameron will not be able to get Clegg's support, hm?
Clegg would prove to be a turd**, did he support Cameron, hm?
Thus, as it looks like, Labour will have to become a bit liberal.
Whatever that means.
Guid nicht!
And what a disappointment it would mean for all those who call themselves Libertarians.

Anyway, this might cause trouble:
A statement said: "It is a cause for serious concern that many people who wanted to vote today were unable*** to do so by 2200 when polls closed."
And right so!
What a bunch of dilettantish bureaucrats!
Good night, Great Britain. And good luck!

* (hopefully) without typos this time.

** sorry. Certainly I had not written this baaahd word, had not been coming to my mind what once in the past millennium I saw on a wall in Derry's Bogside: "Thatcher lured Hurd to be a turd."
Obviously I am getting old, hm? My long-term memory works so fine.

*** many people were unable to vote?! Rather they were enabled not to vote, hm? Ah, language is interesting; and sometimes reveals a lot.

Mind you, I have no clue of politics.

Death still a master from Germany II

Germany doubled the amount of its arms it sold abroad in 2004-2009, compared to that exported during the previous five-year period, according to a report by the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) released Monday.

Germany is the world's third leading exporter of conventional weaponry.
Full article here.

Well, so much for the chronicler's duty.

The rest has already been posted on this blog.
I do recommend following the offered links, in case you are interested and willing to take the time and read this.

Seanstronomy

Snowrotic

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.