... of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and most horrid is emotional blackmail ... whilst for this blogger, the only sacred thing is life itself
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
oh dear, i'm deeply perplexed and need to do some shamefaced backtracking and dithering, etc ... uh oh ! er, perhaps i was a little hasty ... clearly, i know nothing !
http://spiritoftheages.com/Moriae%20Encomium%20(In%20Praise%20of%20Folly)%20-%20illustrated%20by%20Hans%20Holbein.htm
http://classiques.uqac.ca/classiques/erasme/eloge_de_la_folie/erasme_folie_fig.pdf
http://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/btv1b2200121v/f1.item
http://www.hans-holbein.org/
http://www.gutenberg.org/files/30201/30201-h/30201-h.htm
http://www.jimandnancyforest.com/2009/02/27/erasmus/
http://la.wikisource.org/wiki/Moriae_encomium
Monday, August 27, 2012
faint echoes of ancient laughter
I really don’t know, because I’m not a
professional scholar, if Montaigne, who was born in 1533, had access to the writings of
Erasmus, who died in 1536.
Erasmus' contempt for the Papacy, despite
his lifelong adherence to Roman Catholicism, meant that his writings became
suspect of heresies & were supressed for some time. Yet I can’t help feeling that Erasmus’ ghost
inhabits, but doesn’t possess, the mind of Montaigne. Each had a joyously voracious approach to
reading the ancient classics, & each seems to have a delightfully
sweet-tempered disregard for the pompous certainties of those same ancient
authors. For the time being, until I
know better, I shall choose to regard Michel as the heir of Desiderius, & I’m deeply grateful that he chose to squander much of that inheritance on us.
And as for that minx Sarah Bakewell …
revisiting her book, “How To Live, A life of Montaigne in one question & twenty attempts at an answer”, is to re-visit a dear friend whose sweetness of
conversation rings in the memory like celestial music echoing among the not too
distant stars on a warm summer night … so I’m moving her up, provisionally, to
joint-top place in my pantheon of favourite lady writers, alongside of Diana
Holman-Hunt, just for the time being. I shall
expect to find them taking tea together on the terrace, just as soon as I get
to heaven.
After all, what do I know ?
Sunday, August 26, 2012
erasmus ... a little light reading ...
i was always rarther fond of the way durer had drawn and engraved erasmus' hands, even though i knew nothing of the man he portrayed
,,, and then, last term, melvyn bragg's epic tutorial saga got around to illuminating the subject in a lively discussion ...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01bmlsy
... and knowing that holbein had portrayed both erasmus ...
( twice ) ...
... no, thrice !!! ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erasmus
... and erasmus' friend sir thomas more ...
... and having only just cleared the reading backlog by finishing with peter hennessey's "never again", at long last ...
... it seemed like a very good time to download erasmus' "praise of folly" from project gutenberg ...
... and to start editing it in word, my favourite way of studying closely written and densely printed texts ...
... and so, for the next week or two ... DO NOT DISTURB !!!
,,, and then, last term, melvyn bragg's epic tutorial saga got around to illuminating the subject in a lively discussion ...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01bmlsy
... and knowing that holbein had portrayed both erasmus ...
( twice ) ...
... no, thrice !!! ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erasmus
... and erasmus' friend sir thomas more ...
... and having only just cleared the reading backlog by finishing with peter hennessey's "never again", at long last ...
... it seemed like a very good time to download erasmus' "praise of folly" from project gutenberg ...
... and to start editing it in word, my favourite way of studying closely written and densely printed texts ...
... and so, for the next week or two ... DO NOT DISTURB !!!
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Friday, August 24, 2012
vernacular architecture: classics of the southern style at horsted keynes
Thursday, August 23, 2012
3BT
before seven, emerging from a road through a very dark wood to the east of withyham, i find a field of golden straw, the stubble and bales raked in early golden sunlight, and on the very last bale and closest to the roadside there sits a big old rough coated buzzard watching for field mice ... but of course he flies away as soon as i back my truck through the gate
as i wait at a t-junction just across the road from a garden centre at jarvis brook, a heron circles down in a thrice diminishing spiral to feast in their pond before they open their gate to the day's first customers
travelling home on the top of a double decker bus along the north side of clapham common, i see a very pale skinned girl in a bikini sprawled in such a deep and inelegant slumber out in the middle of a football pitch that about fifty jet black rooks are marching about the pitch and her in a stark contrast of energy and purpose
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
my workmate paul ... undaunted by the increasing size of his territory whilst loading up enough work for two ordinary drivers
i recently lent him a dvd of "hue and cry" which he'd never seen, filmed in the streets and bombsites of post-war london where he grew up ... you can't begin to imagine his delight
Monday, August 20, 2012
local difficulties
we are trying to change ISP ... from BT, churlish and unhelpful in all previous encounters, to another
net result = cut off from the world with what seems like a dead line
so watch this space with patience ... and skepticism
net result = cut off from the world with what seems like a dead line
so watch this space with patience ... and skepticism
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
wish fulfilment in the modern world
Having barely passed an A level in English with a spectacularly low mark about 45 years ago, I am predictably confusable about usages and semantics. So what you mean may be obvious, but not to me.
This morning I was overtaken by a white van belonging to a
logistics company. On the back door of the van it
said the company offered “warehousing fulfilment”.
I was slightly startled because I couldn’t remember having ever used the word fulfilment in conversation
unless it was the second part of the clause “wish fulfilment”.
I wondered, could I now suppose that for some people the idea of
“warehousing fulfilment” provokes a nice warm glow ? I tried to picture the girls in our office experiencing this modern thrill.
Those of you who already speak the specialized language of logistics
and of organisation and methods will deride my quaint old-fashioned naivety so
I have now tried to understand your point of view.
The order fulfillment strategy also determines the de-coupling point in the supply chain[3], which describes the point in the system where the "push" (or forecast-driven) and "pull" (or demand-driven see Demand chain management) elements of the supply chain meet. The decoupling point always is an inventory buffer that is needed to cater for the discrepancy between the sales forecast and the actual demand (i.e. the forecast error). It has become increasing necessary to move the de-coupling point in the supply chain to minimize the dependence on forecast and to maximize the reactionary or demand-driven supply chain elements. This initiative in the distribution elements of the supply chain corresponds to the Just-in-time initiatives pioneered by automobile manufacturers in the 1970s.
The order fulfillment strategy has also strong implications on how firms customize their products and deal with product variety [4]. Strategies that can be used to mitigate the impact of product variety include modularity, option bundling, late configuration, and build to order (BTO) strategies—all of which are generally referred as mass customization strategies.
from ... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Order_fulfillment
So, Yes it is obvious, but clearly there has been a need to evolve a new lexicon to fit the situation.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lexicon
And clearly I'm getting out of my depth and it must be time for my cocoa. Sweet dreams, y'all !
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Saturday, August 11, 2012
this is dev ...
... who was born in bangladesh but has lived in london since 1953 ... we often chat on a bench on clapham common ... he struggles heroically with mortality and despair and the fog of memory ... he is a disciplined exerciser of the body, still, but not the mind ... neither of us think there is a heaven or an afterlife ... i think that the only afterlife is the one we instinctively invent for those that we most love and miss ... dev finds it hard to concentrate nowadays but occasionally he shows the origins of his spiritual roots when he asks that ancient rhetorical question "why are the gods punishing us ?" ... today we failed to agree a viewpoint on the subject of justice ... i am more interested in the due processes of inquiry after the crime and during the trial than in whether the culprit is punished ... the example i used was tony blair, who has yet to stand trial for "blithely unleashing the dogs of war" on innocent civilians ... i don't care if blair lives or dies but i fancifully want him to visit the scenes of his crime and to understand and acknowledge the consequences of his folly ...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_dogs_of_war_(phrase)
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
3BT
In the
middle of the night, the humidity relieved by a cooling breeze, a girl in the flimsiest of summer dresses gets off the bus
at the same stop and asks if she can use my phone because hers is dead and she
has mislaid her boyfriend. Sweet voiced.
Sweetly perfumed. She stands too close to me. Is it my imagination or can I feel the heat rising
from her body against my cheek ? She also
gives off that other scent ... of one who will
never know when to stop drinking.
Coming
homewards in the afternoon, a very black skinned woman is sitting in the seat
across the aisle from mine. She is tall
and muscular and has the up-turned-est
nose you ever saw. She sits erect, head
back so that the prominent cheekbone extends in a long horizontal line from the
middle of the ear to just below the eye and you can see her face's every sinew moving beneath the skin. She is
knitting, with ferocioius dedication. Extremely
long slender fingers drawing thin scarlet wool from a carrier bag in her lap
and row after row of tiny identical stitches forming with unflinching
certainty. My mother used to knit,
freestyle, artistically, and so I watch, fascinated now, with both pleasure and pain.
Wearily, I
open the door of our empty flat and discover a fat envelope from Spain, addressed in a lively
script to Señor Tristan Forward, and I am rejuvenated.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
there was no evidence of human sacrifice when i approached the sacriligious artefact ...
... there was a slight delay ... they had to deflate it after vainly trying to re-join the two halves ... and then there was happiness all around ... and there's a nice new cafe in the newly landscaped park, too ...
http://festival.london2012.com/events/9000963231
http://www.southwark.gov.uk/info/461/a_to_z_of_parks/1293/burgess_park/1
http://www.southwark.gov.uk/downloads/download/1053/lda_design_for_burgess_park
Friday, August 3, 2012
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
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