August ending

Isn't this a strange world?

While German soldiers by defending Germany at the Hindukush (according to Germany's former war- ... err ... defence-minister) and thus doing their duty and nothing but their duty, are killing a woman and two children, while probably about 100.000 children died of starvation, while ...,

... I lived three splendid days.

To cut it short: This month ended like it began - august.


More in September. :)

Oh well, who cares

What difference does it make to the dead,
the orphans and the homeless, whether
the mad destruction is wrought under
the name of totalitarism or
the holy name of liberty and democracy?

M.K. Gandhi,
Non-Violence in Peace and War, 1948

Quis leget haec? :)

March 23rd, 2010:
better late than never, hm?

Dear visitors, as almost daily several visitors from all continents stumble upon Omnium while (obviously) searching for the meaning of Quis leget haec?, exactly 19 months after the original post, here an UPDATE: and thus the answer you are looking for:

Quis leget haec? in English means: Who will read this?

Hope I could be of help. Perhaps you let me know?
Anyway, all the best to you.
S.J.




Lingua Latina mortua est! Omnibusne locis? Minime! Nonullis orbis terrarum locis lingua Latina adhuc vivit et floret. Ante diem decimum Calendas Septembres (nostra lingua 23. August) statio televisifica, quae 3sat appelatur, etiam relationem telefisificam nominis "Kulturzeit extra" totam Latine versam per aetherias undas transmittet - sic!

I can imagine that at least Mr. Deogowulf and Laudator temporis acti might find interesting to watch

this.

Prague - freedom - spring

The past three posts very probably would not have been written if - being on my way to become 15 - there had not been Alexander Dubček, the Prague Spring, and its end on August 21 1968, when as Václav Havel later put it, the ("brother"-) state(s) behaved like a girl blaming the mirror for being ugly, and therefore smashed it.

It have been those few months twelve years after the Hungarian Revolution, the photographs of Josef Koudelka, the later Magnum photographer, and the reaction of the western governments that let me start becoming a political thinking human being.

Fourty years have 'flown by' since, and still I do remember these events as vividly as I do remember the tongue of the girl who happened to become the first girl ever to whisper words of love into my ears ... :)

Mother-Cross for McSwagger

Mr. McCain* says he would pursue Obama ... err ... Osama bin Laden “to the gates of hell”.

Mr. McCain* - peace be upon him - is a swaggerer**, i.e w/talking with an air of overbearing self-confidence, conducting himself in an arrogant or superciliously pompous manner.

Mr. McCain* would pursue any terrorist as much as any Pharaoh took part in building a pyramid.

All he'd do were sending thousands of (young) people*** not only to what he calls the gates of hell. Many of them would step through.

As Mr. McCain* like all Cheneys on this planet can't get enough human recources for his chessbord games, the pious follower of the legendary Jesus Christ votes against abortion.

Tetrapilotomos suggests the world-wide invention of a certain mother-cross.


* the name is exchangable. I do, f.e. remember Vladimir 'Ras' Putin once saying (to the Chechen): 'We shall squelch these animals/critters/vermin'.

** One could also say: Mr. McCain* is a bloody liar.

*** mind you, no sons of members of Congress and Senate, of course!!

Hoi georgoi - or sacrificing pawns

It was not (primarily) my intention to remind of what happened on August 13th, 1961. Why should I try to remind anyone on this planet of something that most Germans would not at all (seriously) care about?

What I was looking for was a 'pars pro toto' - one good example for a politician's/criminal's falsehood.
As to be seen in the previous post, less than two months before the Berlin Wall got erected, being asked if a border at the Brandenburg Gate were planned, Walter Ulbrich, head of the so-called German Democratic Republic, answered:
"I understand your question like there are people in the West who wish that we mobilize the construction workers of the capital of the GDR to erect a wall, yes? He he he, I am not aware of such an intention, the construction workers of the capital are mainly busy with the construction of homes. [...] Nobody has the intention to build a wall."

Well, and now try to compare what f.e., U.S.-proconsul Saarkashvili and Vladimir 'Ras' Putin's presidential spokesman Medvedjev recently said and what 'actually' happened.
?
Right!
In other words:
The first casualty when war comes is the truth.

*

As there is another Sean* posting about what's happening in the Caucasus-region, in quite an interesting way, I do restrict myself on but a few thoughts:

If I felt fancy to enter my local pub and trounce the village's assembled carrousers, I ought not to be surprised of the result, hm?
:) That's why I prefer staying at home and posting a bit.

So, why would Saarkashvili make his move?

Did he make the move? Or did somebody else let him make the move?

Remember:

hoi georgoi = the farmers.

Standing on the chess-board the farmers are called 'pawns**'.

And not only for Zbigniew Brzesinski (at present advisor of US-presidential candidate Obama), this planet is a Grand Chessboard.

Apropos chess: Years ago during a grandmaster tournament a Georgian grandmaster invited me to Tiblisi. The tournament, by the way, was won by a Russian - Anatoli Karpov. :)

Back to the big 'game' which is not at all just a 'Caucasian'.

Who's to blaim for what's happening in Georgia? Who's the aggressor? The hen or the egg? Or, completely another scenario: If you were to be the President of Russia, would you give a kopek to what the coming Ex-President of the U.S.A . is demanding?

Isn't it just laughable when the US-(war-)criminal admonishes the reaction of another (war-)criminal by saying "Bullying and intimidation are not acceptable ways to conduct foreign policy in the 21st century"?

Well, and following the logic of the mentally disabled 'leader of the free world' the N.A.T.O. cancels contacts with Russia. Says Russia, i.e. Putin & Co.: We cancel contact with the N.A.T.O..

Kindergarden.

Hohoho. (As an alternative to laughing I recommend being very very scared).

Anybody fancy to criticize? Wait a minute. I do appreciate the fact I was not born 100 kilometres eastwards, so that I could (so far) enjoy life thanks to the power of the Washington-warlords.

If anybody's not able to get the (self-) irony: Her/His problem.

Last thought for now:

"Why don't you [the West; sj] not invite us [Russia;sj] to join the N.A.T.O.?" Ten years have flown by since Valentin Falin and I were sitting at a corner table in a tiny hotel, and the former Soviet ambassador in Germany would ask this question.
"Hm, I suppose I am not the the first you're asking this question. Did you ever get an answer?"
Falin's answer: smilingly reaching for his cup of coffee.


* I recommend reading his latest postings (including all comments).


** and then there are the pawns of the pawns: they who'd just like to live in peace ...

Today 47 years ago

As I do prefer this, for a change,

although I'd have much to type on the topic

only that,

with thanks to the bloke who produced it.

Just a thought 06

Sometimes
it's good
to have a friend
who'd not speak much
but just ...
listen

How to ward off an award - or ...

Fall of a principled man

A while after I had given birth to Omnium ...

[pause to award not only those scientists amongst my esteemed readers whose attempts to find the world formula, i.e. 'The Theory of Everything', up til now all were in vain time to measure the paramount importance of this subordinate clause*]

... and started to visit not only online newspapers but other bloggers as well, soon I'd stumble upon a 'phenomenon' - awards: Here the 382nd best conservative political blogger of his country, there the 94th best left wing blogger of her country; the 169th funniest of all etc. etc. , ... cont. page 1066, where you'd find: The Best Cardiff Bay Gossip Blog.

[pause to award readers time to savour this]

And - as if this were not enough - people would design more or less felicitous awards and dedicate them to five, seven or hundred of their best / sweetest / schmoozest /cutest /etc.etc. fellow bloggers who'd in turn (have to) choose seven or hundred of their ...
Oh dear I thought, like in kindergarten - an award for everyone, so that noone's unhappy. And since, whenever reading the word 'award' in a title, I'd 'turn tail and run'.
Not to get misunderstood: I am not mocking about the quality of any blog(ger), I am mocking about the 'awarditis'. By the way, by typing 'award', google awarded me 343 million hits.

Having written all this, need I say I am glad that nobody ever awarded me an award, or, at least, I never became aware of having been awarded an award, as then I'd be confronted with the next conundrum: How to ward off the award without being (thought) to be arrogant and/or impolite?

And now - with thanks to the Monty Python - for something completely different.

As Fritz Weigle alias F.W. Bernstein once rhymed (it was Bernstein, indeed, not Gernhardt! :) At least Gernhardt told me so.)

Die größten Kritiker der Elche
waren früher selber welche.

The greatest critics of the elks
in former times were elks themselves

Varying this, it reads:

Die größten Kritiker der Elche
werden dereinst selber welche.

The greatest critics of the elks
once will become elks themselves.
[McSeanagall]

In other words:
Herewith the 'enigmatic Sean' - smilingly and with great joy - does accept an award by nobody important. :)


Thanks, dear jmb. I take it as a lovely compliment.

Well,and now it's my turn. As with Cherrypie, Crushed, James, Jams and Mutley already five of 'my' Seldom Borings are 'sharing this burden' with me, I am going to spread the award around the planet. :)

When clicking their names, and reading you will know why I'd call following bloggers brilliant.

Ardent at Ardent Observations,
Colin at Adelaide Green Porridge Cafe
Hans and his team at Internation Musing
Superhero, my Turkish Seanachie at me and others,
and Erkan at Erkan's field diary.

Champagne!! :)


* which, again, will give experienced readers time to wait for the corners of their mouths returning from an expedition to the ear-lobes.

On manners

Ná cuir do chorran angort gan iarraidh.

Do not bring your reaping-hook to a field
without being asked.

Life, laughter and the unexpected

This morning Miss J. and the astrophysicist returned from a trip to the Baltic Sea, bringing fresh warm rolls for breakfast, plus - not for breakfast, though - twelve sea-washed pebbles and two beautiful stones they had found at the beach and carried more than one kilometre to their tent. They will embellish our stone garden, and one is supposed to become my worry stone. :)


Well, collecting pebbles and stones was not really a reason for making this trip. The astrophysicist thought the partial eclipse might not be observable where we do live, but did not want to miss it. Right he was, as here we had clouds, clouds, clouds.


The breakfast? Oh yes, it was marvellous. And Mrs. J. decided that we'll have a trip to the Baltic Sea to watch the next eclipse - in 73 years.

We shall be 128 then, Miss J. and the astrophysicist 99 respectively 103. No doubt it will be great fun, the more as our mother will be accompanying us.


Well, unless something unexpected is going to happen, 'cause life, laughter and death not seldom are close-knit, as we got reminded by a tiny noise on balcony.

August beginning

:)
Variatio delectat. Instead of replying (to the first seven commenters) in the comment-section,
here's an update.

Prologue:
Do you sometimes have so many thoughts/posts in your mind that you just can't decide?
Well, I do. Often. Plus: Words (not only in English) often don't come easy to me. The proper words I mean. The words which are able to exactly tell what I mean.
All I 'knew' was the title of this month's first post: August beginning. - the adjective/the month and the beginning.
To cut it short: At last - in my despair - I decided to post one of those ten photos I'd take with me on the legendary island.
And never I'd thought, let alone intended it could incite quiz-like questions.
A lovely surprise. Thank you all.

Well, jmb, it was not winter when the photo was taken. It was middle of May. Minutes later it would rain cats and dogs. Not somewhere in Australia, Ardent; not 'edge Dartmoor', Crushed;
closest got Chris and Jams.
The photo was taken 1991, in the West of Ireland, Connemara, a couple of miles behind Leenane, driving in direction of Kylemore Abbey, on the left hand side.

Why would I have spontaneously stopped, jumped out of the car, climbed over a wall? Two thoughts: What a motif. And: 'Soon nobody will know you've existed. In my photo you will (at least for a while) live on.' :)

Yes, jmb, it's a dead tree. And - indeed - you'd not find it anymore. It remains existing ... in this photo.

Ha - the 'tartly' Sean; the one who'd call a bastard a bastard, a cretin a cretin, a criminal a criminal?
:)
Hm, that's why there's this very header - it's part of Omnium.

Epilogue:
Mostly I do trust on that my (constant/regalar) visitors* do feel 'it', but tonight I do feel the wish to write it 'black on white': It's good to have you.

* do I need say that I do not 'only' mean those who commented on this post? :)

PS:
Cherrypie, I did not know where to put you(r comment), as it was rather a statement than a question. Will you forgive me? :) - The photos you posted tonight, once again do incite my desire to visit the Lake district which is one of the (few?) 'spots' in England I did not 'happen to' visit up til now.

D'accord

Hypocrisy is the homage which vice pays to virtue.

La Rochefoucauld, Maxims, 1665