... of the seven deadly sins, the eighth and most horrid is emotional blackmail ... whilst for this blogger, the only sacred thing is life itself
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
seeing as how a baby is on the agenda this month .... titian and mahler
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8y6Tit5y6M
via the wonderful, though possibly moribund, boccanegra website
http://xavisuescun.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
faiz ... a poet in the urdu language
read and smile ...
http://caravanmagazine.in/Story.aspx?Storyid=924&StoryStyle=FullStory
listen and sigh ...
http://www.jinnahsequaid.com/8048/legendary-works-faiz-ahm
or, since some twat has broken the link ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tzXNo3-YyUoed-faiz/
and give thanks to metafilter
http://www.metafilter.com/
http://caravanmagazine.in/Story.aspx?Storyid=924&StoryStyle=FullStory
listen and sigh ...
http://www.jinnahsequaid.com/8048/legendary-works-faiz-ahm
or, since some twat has broken the link ...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tzXNo3-YyUoed-faiz/
and give thanks to metafilter
http://www.metafilter.com/
Monday, May 30, 2011
3BT ...
A dilapidated bus station. It is cloudy and a cold breeze chills the little country town. In a small yard surrounded by a low wall, a couple of girls, maybe twelve or thirteen years old, shiver on a bench outside a pub. One has a plaster cast on her left arm. Maybe their parents are drinking inside. Suddenly they leap up and dance frantically around for a couple of minutes, shaking their arms and legs and heads to imagined music, almost as if they were trying to detach them, running about the yard and jumping on the furniture with an extraordinary lack of inhibition, as if they were burning up a lifetime of joy in moments. An English rite of spring ?
An old stone bridge with low pointed arches spans a wide chalk stream bordered with willows, its fertile waters feeding long drifts of flowering water crowfoot on which both yellow and pied wagtails run to and fro.
A text arrives in the evening from a friend I feared had died.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
3BT
A mare leads a foal towards the shadow of a dark oak tree at noon.
At dawn the sun is hidden by a mountain of huge grey clouds all soaked in pink, whilst in front of them there sails a squadron of smaller clouds shaded in pale blue.
The room is silent, except for the sound of bubbles in tonic water.
At dawn the sun is hidden by a mountain of huge grey clouds all soaked in pink, whilst in front of them there sails a squadron of smaller clouds shaded in pale blue.
The room is silent, except for the sound of bubbles in tonic water.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
dehydrated thinking
I woke up before sunrise and didn't make tea. Too noisy.
I was thinking about the proposed closure of the Sorting Office at Malmesbury, my home town, as reported in Thursday's Wiltshire Gazette. Local people are said to be disappointed.
It’s a shame about the jobs going, but at the last general election the clear majority of people in North Wiltshire voted for less taxes and more efficiency. Clearly the subject of local jobs for local people wasn’t so important then.
Of course, in real communities, real people need real jobs.
I vaguely remember that’s what socialism used to be about in the bad old days.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
cognitive dissonance, user's case notes part 99
entered the street door to the flats and was a divided self for one moment, being equally aware of two distinct and competing smells .... the sweetness of baking bread versus the astringency of common disinfectant
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
bienvenido mister marshall
this 1953 film was on permanent display in the reina sofia museum in madrid when i popped in last week
i sat down alone on a hard bench and watched it through with great pleasure
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zC6TimziwiU
http://www.bbc.co.uk/bbcfour/cinema/features/bienvenido-mr-marshall.shtml
Saturday, May 14, 2011
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