phosphorein Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 1 hour ago, alfe said: This happen after testing the local food. One word: haring. Link to comment
Popular Post RickyV Posted August 5, 2019 Popular Post Share Posted August 5, 2019 55 minutes ago, sphinxsix said: I really regret I have to go to bed early today.. I thought you were going to bed. You know you shouldn’t play with AudiophileStyle One hour before you go to bed, otherwise you can’t sleep for hours. I did that to many times and then you have too do, 1 computer, 2 computers, 3 computers etc. sphinxsix and lucretius 2 Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 9 minutes ago, phosphorein said: One word: haring. 😱😱 new and fresh haring is delicious, i’ll eat it almost every day when it’s new. Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
botrytis Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 6 minutes ago, RickyV said: 😱😱 new and fresh haring is delicious, i’ll eat it almost every day when it’s new. Haring and frites? phosphorein 1 Current: Daphile on an AMD A10-9500 with 16 GB RAM DAC - TEAC UD-501 DAC Pre-amp - Rotel RC-1590 Amplification - Benchmark AHB2 amplifier Speakers - Revel M126Be with 2 REL 7/ti subwoofers Cables - Tara Labs RSC Reference and Blue Jean Cable Balanced Interconnects Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 1 minute ago, botrytis said: Haring and frites? No with chopped onions. And the fish is raw. Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
Ralf11 Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 an "immense derangement of the senses" worked for Rimbaud, so why not for USB cables Link to comment
christopher3393 Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 3 hours ago, crenca said: The problem with this thread is it's really just a bunch of girly slapping. I don't sense any danger at all. How about a civility discussion? OK. I'll start, you respond: God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Therefore, since the peaks Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. Thus I spoke, when faster Than I could imagine a spirit In the twilight Seduced me out of my own home To a place I never thought I’d visit. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. I couldn’t recognize the lands, but then suddenly In fresh a glow, mysterious In the golden haze, quickly emerging In the steps of the sun, With the fragrance of a thousand peaks, Asia rose before me, and dazzled I searched for something Familiar, since the broad alleyways Were unknown to me: where the gold-ornamented Patoklos comes rushing down from Tmolus, Where Taurus is to be found, and Messogis, And the gardens are full of flowers, Like a quiet fire. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. But around Asia’s gates Swish pulling here and there At an uncertain sea level With enough unshaded straits, Though the sailor knows these islands. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto. For unlike Cyprus, rich with springs, Or any of the others, Patmos Is housed on earth poorly, But nevertheless is hospitable And if a stranger should come to her, Sent by shipwrecked or longing for His home or for a departed friend, She’ll gladly listen, and her Offspring as well, the voices In the hot grove, so that where sands blow and heat cracks the tops of the fields, They hear him, these voices, And lovingly sound the man’s grief. Thus she once looked after The seer who was loved by god, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Bringer-of-Storms loved The simplicity of this disciple. Thus did that attentive man observe The countenance of the god precisely, There at the mystery of the grapevine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the Last Supper, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly envisioning His Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for He always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in His prescience, To soften the violence and wildness of the world. For all is good. Then He died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how filled with joy He appeared, how victorious. And yet the men grieved, now that evening Had come, and were taken by surprise, Since they were full of great intentions, And loved living under the sun, And didn’t want to leave the countenance Of the Lord, and of their home. It penetrated them like fire into iron, And the One they love walked beside them Like a shadow. Therefore He sent The Spirit upon them, and the house Shook and God’s house and weather rolled Over their heads, filled with anticipation, while They were gathered with heavy hearts, Like heroes whose death approached, Then once more He appeared to them At his departure. For now The royal day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, With godlike suffering, but knowing He would come again at the right time. It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally His work The work of humankind, since now it brought Him joy To live on in loving night, to preserve Before simple eyes, unrelated The depths of wisdom. Deep in the Mountains grew also living images, Yet it is terrible how God here and there Scatters the living, and how very far they are flung. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The Holy Spirit was twice Recognized, in unity. It hadn’t been prophesied to them: Rather it seized them right by the hair Just at the moment when the God Who had turned from them, looked back, and they called out to Him To stop, and they reached their hands to One another as if bound by a golden cord, And called it evil — But when He dies —He about whom beauty hangs Loved most of all, so that a miracle Surrounded him, and he was the Elect of the heavens — And when those who lived together Thereafter in His memory, became Perplexed and no longer understood One another; and when floods carry off The sand and willows and temples, And when the fame of the demi-god And His disciples is blown away And even the Highest turns aside his Countenance, so that nothing Immortal can be seen either In heaven or upon the green earth — What meaning must we take from all of this? It is the cast of the sower, as he seizes Wheat with his shovel Throwing it into the clear air, Swinging it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges in the end. It’s not bad if some of it gets lost, Or if the sounds of His living speech Fade away. For the divine work resembles our own: The Highest doesn’t want all to be Accomplished at once. As mines yield iron, And Ætna its glowing haze, Then I’d have wealth sufficient To form a picture of Him and see What he was, the Christ. But if somebody spurred himself on Along the road and, speaking sadly, Fell upon me and surprised me, so that Like a servant I’d make an image of the God — Once I saw the lords Of heaven visibly angered, not That I wanted to become something different, But that I wanted to learn something more. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman. For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their work Transforms itself and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly triumph proceeds higher. Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like the staff of a song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary. It awakens The dead, those raised incorruptible. And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. They wouldn’t do well in the sharp Ray: a golden bridle Holds back their courage. But when quiet radiance falls From the Holy Scripture, with The world forgotten and their eyes Swollen, then they may enjoy that grace, And study the quiet image. And if the heavens love me, As I now believe, Then how much more Do they love you. For I know one thing: That the will of the eternal Father Concerns you greatly. Under a thundering sky His sign is silent. And there is One who stands Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives. But the heroes, all his sons Have come, and the Holy Scriptures Concerning Him and the lightening, Explain the deeds of the Earth up to this day, Like a footrace that knows no end. And He is with us too, for his works and all Known to Him from the very beginning. For far too long The honor of the heavens Has gone unseen. They practically have to Guide our fingers as we write, And with embarrassment the power Is ripped from our hearts. For every heavenly being Expects a sacrifice, And when this is neglected, Nothing good can come of it. Without awareness we’ve served at the feet of Our Mother Earth, and the Light Of the Sun as well, but what our Father Who reigns over everything wants most Is that the established Word be Caringly attended, and that Which endures be construed well. German song must accord with this. Link to comment
kumakuma Posted August 5, 2019 Share Posted August 5, 2019 10 minutes ago, christopher3393 said: OK. I'll start, you respond: God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Therefore, since the peaks Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. Thus I spoke, when faster Than I could imagine a spirit In the twilight Seduced me out of my own home To a place I never thought I’d visit. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. I couldn’t recognize the lands, but then suddenly In fresh a glow, mysterious In the golden haze, quickly emerging In the steps of the sun, With the fragrance of a thousand peaks, Asia rose before me, and dazzled I searched for something Familiar, since the broad alleyways Were unknown to me: where the gold-ornamented Patoklos comes rushing down from Tmolus, Where Taurus is to be found, and Messogis, And the gardens are full of flowers, Like a quiet fire. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. But around Asia’s gates Swish pulling here and there At an uncertain sea level With enough unshaded straits, Though the sailor knows these islands. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto. For unlike Cyprus, rich with springs, Or any of the others, Patmos Is housed on earth poorly, But nevertheless is hospitable And if a stranger should come to her, Sent by shipwrecked or longing for His home or for a departed friend, She’ll gladly listen, and her Offspring as well, the voices In the hot grove, so that where sands blow and heat cracks the tops of the fields, They hear him, these voices, And lovingly sound the man’s grief. Thus she once looked after The seer who was loved by god, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Bringer-of-Storms loved The simplicity of this disciple. Thus did that attentive man observe The countenance of the god precisely, There at the mystery of the grapevine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the Last Supper, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly envisioning His Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for He always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in His prescience, To soften the violence and wildness of the world. For all is good. Then He died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how filled with joy He appeared, how victorious. And yet the men grieved, now that evening Had come, and were taken by surprise, Since they were full of great intentions, And loved living under the sun, And didn’t want to leave the countenance Of the Lord, and of their home. It penetrated them like fire into iron, And the One they love walked beside them Like a shadow. Therefore He sent The Spirit upon them, and the house Shook and God’s house and weather rolled Over their heads, filled with anticipation, while They were gathered with heavy hearts, Like heroes whose death approached, Then once more He appeared to them At his departure. For now The royal day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, With godlike suffering, but knowing He would come again at the right time. It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally His work The work of humankind, since now it brought Him joy To live on in loving night, to preserve Before simple eyes, unrelated The depths of wisdom. Deep in the Mountains grew also living images, Yet it is terrible how God here and there Scatters the living, and how very far they are flung. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The Holy Spirit was twice Recognized, in unity. It hadn’t been prophesied to them: Rather it seized them right by the hair Just at the moment when the God Who had turned from them, looked back, and they called out to Him To stop, and they reached their hands to One another as if bound by a golden cord, And called it evil — But when He dies —He about whom beauty hangs Loved most of all, so that a miracle Surrounded him, and he was the Elect of the heavens — And when those who lived together Thereafter in His memory, became Perplexed and no longer understood One another; and when floods carry off The sand and willows and temples, And when the fame of the demi-god And His disciples is blown away And even the Highest turns aside his Countenance, so that nothing Immortal can be seen either In heaven or upon the green earth — What meaning must we take from all of this? It is the cast of the sower, as he seizes Wheat with his shovel Throwing it into the clear air, Swinging it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges in the end. It’s not bad if some of it gets lost, Or if the sounds of His living speech Fade away. For the divine work resembles our own: The Highest doesn’t want all to be Accomplished at once. As mines yield iron, And Ætna its glowing haze, Then I’d have wealth sufficient To form a picture of Him and see What he was, the Christ. But if somebody spurred himself on Along the road and, speaking sadly, Fell upon me and surprised me, so that Like a servant I’d make an image of the God — Once I saw the lords Of heaven visibly angered, not That I wanted to become something different, But that I wanted to learn something more. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman. For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their work Transforms itself and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly triumph proceeds higher. Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like the staff of a song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary. It awakens The dead, those raised incorruptible. And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. They wouldn’t do well in the sharp Ray: a golden bridle Holds back their courage. But when quiet radiance falls From the Holy Scripture, with The world forgotten and their eyes Swollen, then they may enjoy that grace, And study the quiet image. And if the heavens love me, As I now believe, Then how much more Do they love you. For I know one thing: That the will of the eternal Father Concerns you greatly. Under a thundering sky His sign is silent. And there is One who stands Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives. But the heroes, all his sons Have come, and the Holy Scriptures Concerning Him and the lightening, Explain the deeds of the Earth up to this day, Like a footrace that knows no end. And He is with us too, for his works and all Known to Him from the very beginning. For far too long The honor of the heavens Has gone unseen. They practically have to Guide our fingers as we write, And with embarrassment the power Is ripped from our hearts. For every heavenly being Expects a sacrifice, And when this is neglected, Nothing good can come of it. Without awareness we’ve served at the feet of Our Mother Earth, and the Light Of the Sun as well, but what our Father Who reigns over everything wants most Is that the established Word be Caringly attended, and that Which endures be construed well. German song must accord with this. Need more coffee christopher3393 1 Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby Edgy and dull and cut a six inch valley Through the middle of my skull Link to comment
charlesphoto Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 3 hours ago, botrytis said: Haring and frites? Haring and Basquiat with a dash of Warhol. sphinxsix 1 SERVER CLOSET (in office directly below living room stereo):NUC 7i5BNH with Roon ROCK (ZeroZone 12V on the NUC)>Cisco 2690L-16PS switch>Sonore opticalModule (Uptone LPS 1.2)> LIVING ROOM: Sonore opticalRendu Roon version (Sonore Power Supply)> Shunyata Venom USB>Naim DAC V1>Witchhat DIN>Naim NAP 160 Bolt Down>Chord Rumor 2>Audio Physic Compact Classics. OFFICE: opticalModule> Sonore microRendu 1.4> Matrix Mini-i Pro 3> Naim NAP 110>NACA5>KEF Ls50's. BJC 6a and Ghent Catsnake 6a JSSG ethernet; AC cables: Shunyata Venom NR V-10; Audience Forte F3; Ice Age copper/copper; Sean Jacobs CHC PowerBlack, Moon Audio DIN>RCA, USB A>C. Isolation: Herbie's Audio Lab. Link to comment
phosphorein Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 4 hours ago, RickyV said: No with chopped onions. And the fish is raw. The National snack! Best before a nice jonge Jenever. RickyV 1 Link to comment
lucretius Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 3 hours ago, christopher3393 said: OK. I'll start, you respond: God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Therefore, since the peaks Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. Thus I spoke, when faster Than I could imagine a spirit In the twilight Seduced me out of my own home To a place I never thought I’d visit. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. I couldn’t recognize the lands, but then suddenly In fresh a glow, mysterious In the golden haze, quickly emerging In the steps of the sun, With the fragrance of a thousand peaks, Asia rose before me, and dazzled I searched for something Familiar, since the broad alleyways Were unknown to me: where the gold-ornamented Patoklos comes rushing down from Tmolus, Where Taurus is to be found, and Messogis, And the gardens are full of flowers, Like a quiet fire. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. But around Asia’s gates Swish pulling here and there At an uncertain sea level With enough unshaded straits, Though the sailor knows these islands. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto. For unlike Cyprus, rich with springs, Or any of the others, Patmos Is housed on earth poorly, But nevertheless is hospitable And if a stranger should come to her, Sent by shipwrecked or longing for His home or for a departed friend, She’ll gladly listen, and her Offspring as well, the voices In the hot grove, so that where sands blow and heat cracks the tops of the fields, They hear him, these voices, And lovingly sound the man’s grief. Thus she once looked after The seer who was loved by god, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Bringer-of-Storms loved The simplicity of this disciple. Thus did that attentive man observe The countenance of the god precisely, There at the mystery of the grapevine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the Last Supper, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly envisioning His Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for He always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in His prescience, To soften the violence and wildness of the world. For all is good. Then He died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how filled with joy He appeared, how victorious. And yet the men grieved, now that evening Had come, and were taken by surprise, Since they were full of great intentions, And loved living under the sun, And didn’t want to leave the countenance Of the Lord, and of their home. It penetrated them like fire into iron, And the One they love walked beside them Like a shadow. Therefore He sent The Spirit upon them, and the house Shook and God’s house and weather rolled Over their heads, filled with anticipation, while They were gathered with heavy hearts, Like heroes whose death approached, Then once more He appeared to them At his departure. For now The royal day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, With godlike suffering, but knowing He would come again at the right time. It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally His work The work of humankind, since now it brought Him joy To live on in loving night, to preserve Before simple eyes, unrelated The depths of wisdom. Deep in the Mountains grew also living images, Yet it is terrible how God here and there Scatters the living, and how very far they are flung. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The Holy Spirit was twice Recognized, in unity. It hadn’t been prophesied to them: Rather it seized them right by the hair Just at the moment when the God Who had turned from them, looked back, and they called out to Him To stop, and they reached their hands to One another as if bound by a golden cord, And called it evil — But when He dies —He about whom beauty hangs Loved most of all, so that a miracle Surrounded him, and he was the Elect of the heavens — And when those who lived together Thereafter in His memory, became Perplexed and no longer understood One another; and when floods carry off The sand and willows and temples, And when the fame of the demi-god And His disciples is blown away And even the Highest turns aside his Countenance, so that nothing Immortal can be seen either In heaven or upon the green earth — What meaning must we take from all of this? It is the cast of the sower, as he seizes Wheat with his shovel Throwing it into the clear air, Swinging it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges in the end. It’s not bad if some of it gets lost, Or if the sounds of His living speech Fade away. For the divine work resembles our own: The Highest doesn’t want all to be Accomplished at once. As mines yield iron, And Ætna its glowing haze, Then I’d have wealth sufficient To form a picture of Him and see What he was, the Christ. But if somebody spurred himself on Along the road and, speaking sadly, Fell upon me and surprised me, so that Like a servant I’d make an image of the God — Once I saw the lords Of heaven visibly angered, not That I wanted to become something different, But that I wanted to learn something more. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman. For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their work Transforms itself and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly triumph proceeds higher. Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like the staff of a song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary. It awakens The dead, those raised incorruptible. And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. They wouldn’t do well in the sharp Ray: a golden bridle Holds back their courage. But when quiet radiance falls From the Holy Scripture, with The world forgotten and their eyes Swollen, then they may enjoy that grace, And study the quiet image. And if the heavens love me, As I now believe, Then how much more Do they love you. For I know one thing: That the will of the eternal Father Concerns you greatly. Under a thundering sky His sign is silent. And there is One who stands Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives. But the heroes, all his sons Have come, and the Holy Scriptures Concerning Him and the lightening, Explain the deeds of the Earth up to this day, Like a footrace that knows no end. And He is with us too, for his works and all Known to Him from the very beginning. For far too long The honor of the heavens Has gone unseen. They practically have to Guide our fingers as we write, And with embarrassment the power Is ripped from our hearts. For every heavenly being Expects a sacrifice, And when this is neglected, Nothing good can come of it. Without awareness we’ve served at the feet of Our Mother Earth, and the Light Of the Sun as well, but what our Father Who reigns over everything wants most Is that the established Word be Caringly attended, and that Which endures be construed well. German song must accord with this. Is there a short version? mQa is dead! Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 7 hours ago, christopher3393 said: OK. I'll start, you respond: God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, The rescue grows as well. Eagles live in the darkness, And the sons of the Alps Go fearlessly over the abyss Upon bridges simply built. Therefore, since the peaks Of Time are heaped all about, And dear ones live close by, Worn down on the most separated mountains — Then give us innocent waters; Give us wings, and the truest minds To voyage over and then again to return. Thus I spoke, when faster Than I could imagine a spirit In the twilight Seduced me out of my own home To a place I never thought I’d visit. The shaded forests and longing Streams of my homeland. I couldn’t recognize the lands, but then suddenly In fresh a glow, mysterious In the golden haze, quickly emerging In the steps of the sun, With the fragrance of a thousand peaks, Asia rose before me, and dazzled I searched for something Familiar, since the broad alleyways Were unknown to me: where the gold-ornamented Patoklos comes rushing down from Tmolus, Where Taurus is to be found, and Messogis, And the gardens are full of flowers, Like a quiet fire. Up above In the light the silver snow Blooms, and ivy grows from ancient Times on the inapproachable walls, Like a witness to immortal life, While the joyous, the god-built palaces Are borne by living columns Of cypress, cedar and laurel. But around Asia’s gates Swish pulling here and there At an uncertain sea level With enough unshaded straits, Though the sailor knows these islands. And when I heard, that one of these close by Was Patmos, I wanted very much To put in there, to enter The dark grotto. For unlike Cyprus, rich with springs, Or any of the others, Patmos Is housed on earth poorly, But nevertheless is hospitable And if a stranger should come to her, Sent by shipwrecked or longing for His home or for a departed friend, She’ll gladly listen, and her Offspring as well, the voices In the hot grove, so that where sands blow and heat cracks the tops of the fields, They hear him, these voices, And lovingly sound the man’s grief. Thus she once looked after The seer who was loved by god, Who in his holy youth Had walked together inseparably With the Son of the Highest, Because the Bringer-of-Storms loved The simplicity of this disciple. Thus did that attentive man observe The countenance of the god precisely, There at the mystery of the grapevine, Where they sat together at the hour Of the Last Supper, when the Lord with His great spirit quietly envisioning His Own death, and forespoke it and also His final act of love, for He always Had words of kindness to speak, Even then in His prescience, To soften the violence and wildness of the world. For all is good. Then He died. Much Could be said about it. At the end His friends recognized how filled with joy He appeared, how victorious. And yet the men grieved, now that evening Had come, and were taken by surprise, Since they were full of great intentions, And loved living under the sun, And didn’t want to leave the countenance Of the Lord, and of their home. It penetrated them like fire into iron, And the One they love walked beside them Like a shadow. Therefore He sent The Spirit upon them, and the house Shook and God’s house and weather rolled Over their heads, filled with anticipation, while They were gathered with heavy hearts, Like heroes whose death approached, Then once more He appeared to them At his departure. For now The royal day of the sun Was extinguished, as he cast The shining scepter from himself, With godlike suffering, but knowing He would come again at the right time. It would have been wrong To cut off disloyally His work The work of humankind, since now it brought Him joy To live on in loving night, to preserve Before simple eyes, unrelated The depths of wisdom. Deep in the Mountains grew also living images, Yet it is terrible how God here and there Scatters the living, and how very far they are flung. And how fearsome it was to leave The sight of dear friends and walk off Alone far over the mountains, where The Holy Spirit was twice Recognized, in unity. It hadn’t been prophesied to them: Rather it seized them right by the hair Just at the moment when the God Who had turned from them, looked back, and they called out to Him To stop, and they reached their hands to One another as if bound by a golden cord, And called it evil — But when He dies —He about whom beauty hangs Loved most of all, so that a miracle Surrounded him, and he was the Elect of the heavens — And when those who lived together Thereafter in His memory, became Perplexed and no longer understood One another; and when floods carry off The sand and willows and temples, And when the fame of the demi-god And His disciples is blown away And even the Highest turns aside his Countenance, so that nothing Immortal can be seen either In heaven or upon the green earth — What meaning must we take from all of this? It is the cast of the sower, as he seizes Wheat with his shovel Throwing it into the clear air, Swinging it across the threshing floor. The chaff falls to his feet, but The grain emerges in the end. It’s not bad if some of it gets lost, Or if the sounds of His living speech Fade away. For the divine work resembles our own: The Highest doesn’t want all to be Accomplished at once. As mines yield iron, And Ætna its glowing haze, Then I’d have wealth sufficient To form a picture of Him and see What he was, the Christ. But if somebody spurred himself on Along the road and, speaking sadly, Fell upon me and surprised me, so that Like a servant I’d make an image of the God — Once I saw the lords Of heaven visibly angered, not That I wanted to become something different, But that I wanted to learn something more. The lords are kind, but while they reign They hate falsehood most, when humans become Inhuman. For not they, but undying Fate It is that rules, and their work Transforms itself and quickly reaches an end. When the heavenly triumph proceeds higher. Then the joyful Son of the Highest Is called like the sun by the strong, As a watchword, like the staff of a song That points downwards, For nothing is ordinary. It awakens The dead, those raised incorruptible. And many are waiting whose eyes are Still too shy to see the light directly. They wouldn’t do well in the sharp Ray: a golden bridle Holds back their courage. But when quiet radiance falls From the Holy Scripture, with The world forgotten and their eyes Swollen, then they may enjoy that grace, And study the quiet image. And if the heavens love me, As I now believe, Then how much more Do they love you. For I know one thing: That the will of the eternal Father Concerns you greatly. Under a thundering sky His sign is silent. And there is One who stands Beneath it all his life. For Christ still lives. But the heroes, all his sons Have come, and the Holy Scriptures Concerning Him and the lightening, Explain the deeds of the Earth up to this day, Like a footrace that knows no end. And He is with us too, for his works and all Known to Him from the very beginning. For far too long The honor of the heavens Has gone unseen. They practically have to Guide our fingers as we write, And with embarrassment the power Is ripped from our hearts. For every heavenly being Expects a sacrifice, And when this is neglected, Nothing good can come of it. Without awareness we’ve served at the feet of Our Mother Earth, and the Light Of the Sun as well, but what our Father Who reigns over everything wants most Is that the established Word be Caringly attended, and that Which endures be construed well. German song must accord with this. Seriously?!! After 5 sentences I just read blablabla and bla. Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
marce Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 7 hours ago, christopher3393 said: OK. I'll start, you respond: God is near Yet hard to seize. Where there is danger, Extended Liberal Arts response.... Link to comment
lucretius Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 13 hours ago, marce said: Arghhh liberal arts reply.... Who you calling a snowflake? mQa is dead! Link to comment
christopher3393 Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 12 hours ago, kumakuma said: Need more coffee kumakuma 1 Link to comment
sphinxsix Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 21 hours ago, botrytis said: She can still have a boyfriend, a lover, and a husband (although she probably thinks he is useless - isn't that how all women think of their husbands?). We all have different life experiences but IMO they always say something about us. Throughout my entire life I've preferred relationships with girlfriends to relationships with (my own or others) wives. 21 hours ago, RickyV said: 😱😱 new and fresh haring is delicious, i’ll eat it almost every day when it’s new. I agree, the second hand ones are disgusting, especially if the previous owner had good teeth 18 hours ago, christopher3393 said: God is near...................................................................................................................................................................German song must accord with this. Amen! Sound Khachaturianish but it's a German song christopher3393 1 Link to comment
christopher3393 Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 14 hours ago, lucretius said: Is there a short version? Sure! . . . where the danger is, grows also that which saves. sphinxsix 1 Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 17 minutes ago, sphinxsix said: I agree, the second hand ones are disgusting, especially if the previous owner had good teeth 🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮. Ah that’s disgusting. hahaha Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 Snowflake A term for someone that thinks they are unique and special, but really are not. It gained popularity after the movie "Fight Club" from the quote “You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else." Began being used extensively as a putdown for someone, usually on the political left, who is easily offended or felt they needed a "safe space" away from the harsh realities of the world, but now has morphed into a general putdown for anyone that complains about any subject. Comedians have a hard time performing on college campuses anymore because of all the little snowflakes running around that get offended by just about anything they say Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
christopher3393 Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 13 hours ago, RickyV said: Seriously?!! After 5 sentences I just read blablabla and bla. Go with that: RickyV 1 Link to comment
RickyV Posted August 6, 2019 Share Posted August 6, 2019 1 hour ago, christopher3393 said: Go with that: Ich lieb dich nicht, du liebst mich nicht, ah ha. Ich lieb dich nicht, du liebst mich nicht ah ha, bla bla bla 🎶 🎼 ha ha ha 🎵 🎼 ha ha ha. Your are such a unicorn did your mama make love with cucumbercucumber’s daddy? Meitner ma1 v2 dac, Sovereign preamp and power amp, DIY speakers, scan speak illuminator. Raal Requisite VM-1a -> SR-1a with Accurate Sound convolution. Under development: NUC7i7dnbe, Euphony Stylus, Qobuz. Modded Buffalo-fiber-EtherRegen, DC3- Isoregen, Lush^2 Link to comment
sandyk Posted August 7, 2019 Share Posted August 7, 2019 Al Just as well he didn't have a postal address ! How a Digital Audio file sounds, or a Digital Video file looks, is governed to a large extent by the Power Supply area. All that Identical Checksums gives is the possibility of REGENERATING the file to close to that of the original file. PROFILE UPDATED 13-11-2020 Link to comment
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