Gratuitous and Pointless Post Whoring - Red Herrings, and Vaguely Amusing Anecdotes

[bluesman]

The fact that we are genetically, practically and essentially identical to every other member of our species. That makes us all human. Not to say that there aren't differences. For instance, African Negroes have no Neanderthal genes, while Europeans and Asians do. That makes Negroes pure Cro-Magnon, while the rest are homo-sapiens and genetic mutts!

 

But seriously, those differences are highly academic and essentially trivial. Any perceived differences between groups of humans are cultural, not genetic. We are all the same where it counts.

Nonsense, George. I have it on good authority that my people have designer genes.

[AudioDoctor]

I recently became a fan of Opera...

 

https://youtu.be/vmCmrZfybPQ

[gmgraves]

Nonsense, George. I have it on good authority that my people have designer genes.

 

 

Oh! Well, I'd forgotten about that! Better make sure that those designer genes aren't too tight. Lest you not be able to pass them down to a subsequent generation.

[徐中銳]

A furtive tear :

www.vimeo.com/33329117

 

 

« Lost Property which Sebastian had begun at that time appears as a kind of halt in his literary journey of discovery : a summing up, a counting of the things and souls lost on the way, a setting of bearings ; the clinking sound of unsaddled horses browsing in the dark ; the glow of a camp fire ; stars overhead. There is in it a short chapter dealing with an aeroplane crash (the pilot and all the passengers but one were killed) ; the survivor, an elderly Englishman, was discovered by a farmer some way from the place of the accident, sitting on a stone. He sat huddled up—the picture of misery and pain. "Are you badly hurt ?" asked the farmer. "No," answered the Englishman, "toothache. I've had it all the way." Half a dozen letters were found scattered in a field : remnants of the air-mail bag. Two of these were business letters of great importance ; a third was addressed to a woman, but began : "Dear Mr Mortimer, in reply to yours of the 6th inst…" and dealt with the placing of an order ; a fourth was a birthday greeting ; a fifth was the letter of a spy with its steely secret hidden in a haystack of idle prattle ; and the last was an envelope directed to a firm of traders with the wrong letter inside, a love letter. "This will smart, my poor love. Our picnic is finished ; the dark road is bumpy and the smallest child in the car is about to be sick. A cheap fool would tell you : you must be brave. But then, anything I might tell you in the way of support or consolation is sure to be milk-puddingy,—you know what I mean. You always knew what I meant. Life with you was lovely—and when I say lovely, I mean doves and lilies, and velvet, and that soft pink 'v' in the middle and the way your tongue curved up to the long, lingering 'l.' Our life together was alliterative, and when I think of all the little things which will die, now that we cannot share them, I feel as if we were dead too. And perhaps we are. You see, the greater our happiness was, the hazier its edges grew, as if its outlines were melting, and now it has dissolved altogether. I have not stopped loving you ; but something is dead in me, and I cannot see you in the mist…. This is all poetry. I am lying to you. Lily-livered. There can be nothing more cowardly than a poet beating about the bush. I think you have guessed how things stand : the damned formula of 'another woman.' I am desperately unhappy with her—here is one thing which is true. And I think there is nothing much more to be said about that side of the business.

 

"I cannot help feeling there is something essentially wrong about love. Friends may quarrel or drift apart, close relations too, but there is not this pang, this pathos, this fatality which clings to love. Friendship never has that doomed look. Why, what is the matter ? I have not stopped loving you, but because I cannot go on kissing your dim dear race, we must part, we must part. Why is it so ? What is this mysterious exclusiveness ? One may have a thousand friends, but only one love-mate. Harems have nothing to do with this matter : I am speaking of dance, not gymnastics. Or can one imagine a tremendous Turk loving every one of his four hundred wives as I love you ? For if I say 'two' I have started to count and there is no end to it. There is only one real number : One. And love, apparently, is the best exponent of this singularity.

 

"Good-bye, my poor love. I shall never forget you and never replace you. It would be absurd of me to try and persuade you that you were the pure love, and that this other passion is but a comedy of the flesh. All is flesh and all is purity. But one thing is certain : I have been happy with you and now I am miserable with another. And so life will go on. I shall joke with the chaps at the office and enjoy my dinners (until I get dyspepsia), and read novels, and write verse, and keep an eye on the stocks—and generally behave as I have always behaved. But that does not mean that I shall be happy without you…. Every small thing which will remind me of you—the look of disapproval about the furniture in the rooms where you have patted cushions and spoken to the poker, every small thing which we have descried together—will always seem to me one half of a shell, one half of a penny, with the other half kept by you. Good-bye. Go away, go away. Don't write. Marry Charlie or any other good man with a pipe in his teeth. Forget me now, but remember me afterwards, when the bitter part is forgotten. This blot is not due to a tear. My fountain-pen has broken down and I am using a filthy pen in this filthy hotel room. The heat is terrific and I have not been able to clinch the business I was supposed to bring 'to a satisfactory close,' as that ass Mortimer says. I think you have got a book or two of mine—but that is not really important. Please, don't write. L."

 

If we abstract from this fictitious letter everything that is personal to its supposed author, I believe that there is much in it that may have been felt by Sebastian, or even written by him, to... »

— Vladimir Nabokov

The Real Life of Sebastian Knight

[bluesman]

Oh! Well, I'd forgotten about that! Better make sure that those designer genes aren't too tight. Lest you not be able to pass them down to a subsequent generation.

I already passed them on to 2 sons. I'm blaming sunspots for the apparent mutations.

[PopPop]

And then there was HK Grruber's Frankenstein “A Pan-Demonium for Chansonnier and Ensemble,”

 

 

I saw this live with the SPCO on two occasions. A fun evening, both times.

[gmgraves]

I already passed them on to 2 sons. I'm blaming sunspots for the apparent mutations.

 

That's as good a thing as any to blame them on. They are an act of nature, can't argue with you, and leave you and the Missus completely blameless. Kudos!

[徐中銳]

Interesting. Although this is a zombie thread...

 

Everything has its merit (why not recycle) ‽

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiCwHAPH6ZI

« Actor Jeremy Irons, producer of the documentary "Trashed," is an advocate for cutting down on waste. He talks to Tracy Smith about how he lives the principle of not wasting things. »

 

[tne]

Wilhelm,

 

It really is a joy that you are part of the CA community as you add something that no one else ever has.

 

In retrospect, I wish that I had created your CA persona, but my lack of such expansive and effortless expression that you display makes me happy that you really exist. I would have left out the Marantz fanboy stuff, but otherwise your character is quite brilliant in the way it taunts and challenges the rigid-mindedness and patronizing voices that inhabit so many of the threads and posts here.

 

Stay true to yourself, brother.

 

Carry on.

[徐中銳]

Thomas,

I've quoted Gracián before. This time, for you, I'll quote (and translate) part of another memorable maxim of his :

« Gran decir :

'el tiempo y yo a otros dos.'

('Time and I against any two others,' is a fine saying.) »

 

Thus, usually, I prefer to wait as long as I can (so my own thoughts might settle, mature) before writing.

 

Let's briefly say that music is the lady that was the anthropomorphised girl in :

www.vimeo.com/8050293

« This is a documentary film that a girl wearing denim traveled over 50 countries in two years.

The denim walks freely in the world, meets people, changes and fades. »

 

I too will take a stroll now to return some city library loans

 

Best wishes,

your impish brother

[AudioDoctor]

And then there was HK Grruber's Frankenstein “A Pan-Demonium for Chansonnier and Ensemble,”

 

 

I saw this live with the SPCO on two occasions. A fun evening, both times.

 

Love it!

[徐中銳]

When it comes to opera...

 

Perhaps :

[徐中銳]

Miró Sans' only 32 :

[video=youtube;D1BE-_-XYFU]

[徐中銳]

In Paris :

www.vimeo.com/187802232

[bobbmd]

Just came across this thread-

just remember-THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE-from Maulder circa 1993-just saw the pilot and first few episodes(again)

[AudioDoctor]

Speaking of Aliens, and the recent Halloween... Because I have a very childish sense of humor, this is one of my favorite movies.

 

Spaced Invaders (1990) - IMDb

[Paul R]

Speaking of Aliens, and the recent Halloween... Because I have a very childish sense of humor, this is one of my favorite movies.

 

Spaced Invaders (1990) - IMDb

 

Haw! And that really is the whole loaf of toast!!

[AudioDoctor]

and if you haven't seen it...