That I am allowed to experience this!

Imagine you have missed the bus or the tramvai by a hair; and, alas, today of all days Flann O'Brien's The third Policeman is not at hand. So, what next? Boring yourself for some twenty minutes or ... rather walking to the next stop, on the risk of not walking fast enough and thus again missing the bus/tramvai?

To be on the safe side, all you need is but a bit knowledge of advanced probability and integral calculus.

Mathematicians Scott Kominers, Robert Sinnott (Harvard University) and Justin Chen (California Institute of Technology) derived a formula for the optimal time that you should wait for a tardy bus at each stop en route before giving up and walking on.

The research group found that the solution was surprisingly simple, as you will surely agree:



Now, are you grateful that you are allowed to live experiencing this magic moment, in which one of the last most brainteasing and riddling conundrums of all mysteriously puzzling enigmata has been solved, or are are you grateful to live experiencing this magic moment, in which one of the last most brainteasing and riddling conundrums of all mysteriously puzzling enigmata has been solved?

I thought so.

And now you'd like to get closer to the essential inheritent interior essence which is hidden in the root of the kernel of everything?

I thought so.

Here you are.


And here one anticipatory reaction:

'Science knows only one commandment: contribute to science.'
Bertold Brecht, Galileo, 1943

And one reactionary anticipation:

'The discovery of a new dish does more for the happiness of mankind than the discovery of a star.'
Brillat-Savarin, The Physiology of Taste, 1825


In case you miss it, I can't serve you with a quotation from Tetrapilotomos. He'd not be amused if I disturbed Calvagh O'Seanacháin and him while celebrating the 126th anniversary of their friend's birthday.

?

Ah, yes, of course, it's James Joyce.

Discovered: A Turkish Seanachie

As everyone would know my closest friend Tetrapilotomos, a writer who - although a fascinating storyteller - would not dare to write, is one of those stern members of the human family who would hardly get being caught laughing, even if one would follow him into the deepest cellar.

Mostly he'd be busy with scientific research, such as pre-assyrian philately, architecture of the Tuareg, Aztecan horsemanship etc. and, as an ardent advocate for interdisciplinary cooperation, of course, he has got friends and colleagues in almost every village on this globe who are working on the same respectively completely different subjects.
But I am running the risk of digressing a bit.

Where was I? Ah, yes ... he would hardly get being caught laughing, even if one would follow him into the deepest cellar.

Smiling here and then, yes. But that's all. The more surprised I was while tonight preparing spaghetti in a spicy mozzarella-tomato sauce and a delicious salad (champignons, red and yellow paprika, bush tomatoes and feta), hearing him chuckle again and again in front of the PC.

At dinner, raising my glass of vintage Ulysses, a marvellous Aetna vine, asked I: Any joyeous news according Kemal Kerinçsiz?

Spake Tetrapilotomos: No.

Said I: Last time I heard you laughing while we were having some pints of black gold with Calvagh and he was telling the story about O'Loughlins last order, which as you might remember happened to be a very long story.

Spake Tetrapilotomos: Ah, Calvagh O'Seanacháin, Professor for antediluvian fishing methods and philosophy and Erin's finest seanachie. Indeed, indeed. Must visit him again some day. Could you check, if there's a flight to Shannon tomorrow morning?

Said I: Sure, as soon as you've told what made you chuckling for almost half an hour.

Spake Tetrapilotomos: Well, I stumbled upon a Turkish seanachie.

Said I: That's extremely funny, indeed. Next you will tell, that Irish is a Turkish dialect and the first seanachie was a Turkish poteen producer near Knocknamuck, which - by the way - means the hill of the pigs.

Spake Tetrapilotomos: Stop nitpicking, Sean. Let's enjoy this delicious meal - by the way, will we have ice-cream à la Welshcakes Limoncello for dessert? - and then let me introduce you to my Turkish seanachie and his devine interventions.

Poetry at its peak

As I am just told by my dear friend McSeanagall,
in Colin Campbell's Adelaide Green Porridge Cafe
today you'd find

Poetry at its peak,
each word of praise
would be too weak.

Justice or insulting Kerinçsizness?

Smiling like a Cheshire cat from one ear to the other, today Tetrapilotomos asked me to read the following:

Turkish police arrested 33 persons who were actively involved in ultranationalist activities. Some of them are quite high profile. Retired general Veli Küçük, who has been in the news since the Susurluk case, some mafia leaders, the notarious lawyer Mr. Kerincsiz, Aksam columnist Güler Kömürcü, Sevgi Erenerol, spokeswoman for the Turkish Orthodox Patriarchate - one opposed to the Fener Greek Patriarchate- are among the arrested ones...

I did and said: Interesting. And what's the amusing part about?

Spake Tetrapilotomos:

"I cannot remember that - and if so when - it happened in past decades that by reading a news I thought I were dreaming.
Therefore, I have been visiting this entry of Erkan's blog, at least twice every day, since.
Not that I wouldn't rely on Erkan who is the best journalistic source one can find in Turkey; no, it's just that I was anxious the good news could emerge as one of my daydreams, that I had become victim of my wishful thinking.

Now, after seven days I have decided to believe my eyes

The infamous Kemal Kerinçsiz arrested. What a pleasure, what a delight! Once again, filled with joy my heart is rising like a falcon up to the sky!
The neurotic who would fill complaints against dozens of Turkish journalists and authors inculpating them of insulting Turkishness, the pettifogging moron who'd sue the moon if only he could, whenever this planet's celestial neighbour dares to not appear exactly in the shape as is determinated in the Turkish flag, facing a trial himself! Ah, I wish him good health so that he may be able to enjoy the rest of his life behind bars."

Said I:

"Aside from that I remember that once you wished him to lose all his teeth except one for permanent toothache, as an admirer of Mr Kerinçsiz you will be aware of that the honourable gentleman heads the Büyük Hukukçular Birliği (Great Union of Jurists), which is responsible for most article 301-trials. One if not all of his approximately 700 dear colleagues and brothers in mind will do their best to turn the table and file a complaint against the prosecutors for insulting Kerinçsizness.

By the way, my dear Tetrapilotomos, I do start to understand why you would never write what you are thinking."


And here, for the beginning, a bit more about Operation Ergenekon.

Sudorific science

The secret of science is to ask the right question, and it is the choice of problem more than anything else that marks the man of genius in the scientific world.
Sir Henry Tizard

Ouod erat demonstrandum. :)

Jams O'Donnell did by offering a very heavy and sudorific evidence.

Casting out the devil by 70 Beelzebubs?

'The European Union has announced plans to increase the use of gas and diesel produced from plants. But the critique against biofuels is mounting. Many say they are even more harmful than conventional fossil fuels.'

Indeed. Trying to fight carbon oxide with laughing gas seems as if trying to cast out the devil by 70 beelzebubs.

Therefore, reading this article might be of interest, the more when keeping at the back of one's mind what has been thematized in previous posts.

In mood for meatless food? III

Having read the links commended in the previous post(s), the following will perhaps sound more reasonable.
Personally, I am not thoroughly convinced.
It's is not easy to convince an agnostic. :)

But when even those few German TV-stations I do consider slightly reliable are getting interested in the issue*, Mr Engdahl who makes himself ring a bit hollow by sensation mongering titles as

BUY FEED CORN: THEY'RE ABOUT TO STOP MAKING IT ...

might be at least not completely wrong.

Judge for yourself.


* There will (hopefully) soon a post covering this

In mood for meatless food? II

Just to make sure you wouldn't miss reading all parts of the Spiegel-article I recommended yesterday. (No, I am not on the Spiegel's payroll; besides, I do not like the spelling style of their German edition).


Part 1: The Choice between Food and Fuel

Part 2: The New Chinese Appetite for Meat

Part 3: Snapping Up Land Across the Globe

Part 4: Can the Poor Afford to Eat?

In mood for meatless food?

You are so shocked by the previous post that from now on you will eat nothing but whole grain bread, muesli, and only sometimes steal your hen one egg?
Fine, as long as you can afford.

Food prices are skyrocketing. Arable land is becoming scarce. And forests continue to disappear across the globe. The world must decide between affordable food and biofuels.

All it takes for Hans Dietrich Driftmann, a businessman from Germany's northern Holstein region, to explain the way the world works is a package of muesli -- or at least to explain the way his world, the world of agricultural markets, works.

Driftmann picks up a packet of "Köllns kernige Multikorn-Flocken" ("Kölln's Crunchy Multigrain Flakes") and reads out the list of ingredients: oats, wheat, barley and rye. Then he slips a set of price tables out of a plastic sleeve and does a couple of calculations to illustrate how the prices of the muesli's ingredients have changed: rye has gone up by 55 percent, barley by 70 percent and wheat 90 percent. The price of oats has also skyrocketed -- by 80 percent -- since the last harvest a year ago. This final figure is what really hits home for Driftmann.

... and the story ends here.

Bon appétit
&
The Peace of the Night.

Apropos calves

You read the previous post? Good.

Now don't I know (at least not yet) what you think about killing 2,000 one day old calves per week, nor would I know whether you like eating the veal of calves being turbo-fed within eight weeks.

As for me, rather than killing and / or eating I prefer admiring certain calves and praising their beauty. :)

The Peace of the Night.

Of Vice and Men

Please keep in mind the four links offered in three posts , January 10th:
The Pig Monopoly (Monsanto), Wheat / Soya Rise, Seeds of Destruction, Doomsday Seed Vault in the Arctic, and those tiny four words 'definively to be continued'.

Thank you. :)

Well then:

Since as a boy I read John Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath, my blood is boiling whenever I think of racketeers throwing fruits into the ocean 'to keep prices stable'.

Hm, how to cut it short?

Ah, stable is a lovely catchword. It brings me not to fruits but to livestock, and thus to one of Postman Patel's recent posts.

Enjoy, ... if you can.

Augurio, poeta! :)

Another 365 days flown by like 'like farts in the wind' (which is the title of one of his poems): Today my dear friend Giulio Stocchi is celebrating his 'compleanno'.

Auguro a te per le prossimo 366 giorni

salute,
amore,
pace,
ispirazione,
successo,
ozi,
contentezza

e - specialmente se mai qualcosa non immediato vuòle andare liscio -

sereno placidità e viceversa calmo serenità!


May your muse don't stop kissing you, poeta, and may Pegasus give you a good ride. :)



This afternoon I enjoyed hearing the master's voice by listening to 'La Cantata Rossa per Tall el Zaatar' (an album by Gaetano Liguori (music), Giulio Stocchi (text & voce recitante)) and Demetrio Stratos, featuring Concetta Busacca, Pasquale Liguori and Roberto Del Piano, originally released in vinyl LP format, 1976).

But 'The red cantata for Tall el Zaatar' is perhaps a bit dark for such a day.

So may I introduce you to

Pandolfer the cat (translated by Deborah Strozier)

This is the story
of a stray cat with no home
he runs down the streets
the rooftops he roams

yellow is his mane
the color of sulpher
they gave him a name
they called him Pandolfer

Pandolfer the cat
was born in May
he’s big and he’s brave
and he sleeps by day

Pandolfer the cat
is a tiger true
battles with the mice
and wins thirtytwo


By visiting Giulio Stocchi's site and clicking Pandolfer the cat, you get the whole fiaba [not only] per bambini. :)

Tripling the tribute

Neither I'd forget José Carrasco.

Seems it's a night I do remember some special people, representative for lots of courageous journalists.

Take it as a tribute to all those who had, have and will have the courage to speak out against injustice and totalitarism of any kind.
I am not sure, if I had been or would be such courageous.

The Peace of the Night.