tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34974487989535341002024-02-08T12:10:45.544+11:00RUSSIAN CARAVANtea timematryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-21354770540886842172010-02-02T19:39:00.003+11:002010-02-02T20:43:04.774+11:00The Fly<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Little fly,</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thy summer's play</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">My thoughtless hand</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Has brushed away.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Am not I</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A fly like thee?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Or art not thou </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A man like me?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">For I dance</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And drink and sing,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Till some blind hand</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Shall brush my wing.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If thought is life</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And strength and breath</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And the want</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Of thought is death,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Then am I</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">A happy fly,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">If I live,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Or if I die.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">William Blake.</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-14555073609073343092010-02-01T22:06:00.002+11:002010-02-01T22:09:53.238+11:00The More Loving One<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Looking up at the stars, I know quite well</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That, for all they car, I can go to hell,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But on earth indifference is the least</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">We have to dread from man or beast.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">How should we like it were stars to burn</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">With a passion for us we could not return?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">If equal affection cannot be,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Let the more loving one be me.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Admirer as I think I am</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Of stars that do not give a damn,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I cannot, now I see them, say</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I missed one terribly all day.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Were all stars to disappear or die,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I should learn to look at an empty sky</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And feel its total darkness sublime,</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Though this might take me a little time.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">W. H. Auden</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-90308961856772205772010-01-31T17:37:00.001+11:002010-01-31T17:38:58.619+11:00O captain! my captain!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(36, 45, 53); "><span><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I.<br /><br /></span></span></div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">O </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">CAPTAIN</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">! my captain! our fearful trip is done;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> sought is won;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The port is near, the bells I hear, the people are<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> exulting,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and daring:<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> But O heart! heart! heart!<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Leave you not the little spot,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Where on the deck my captain lies,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Fallen cold and dead.<br /></span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />II.<br /><br /></span></span></div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">O captain! my captain! rise up and hear the bells;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> trills;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths—for you the<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> shores a-crowding;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> faces turning;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> O captain! dear father!<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> This arm I push beneath you;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> It is some dream that on the deck,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> You've fallen cold and dead.<br /></span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><div style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />III.<br /><br /></span></span></div><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My captain does not answer, his lips are pale and<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> still;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> will:<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But the ship, the ship is anchor'd safe, its voyage<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> closed and done;<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> object won:<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> But I, with silent tread,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Walk the spot my captain lies,<br /></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Fallen cold and dead.</span></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#242D35;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, Helvetica, sans-serif;color:#242D35;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Walt Whitman</span></span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-69191636952043376692010-01-30T11:59:00.003+11:002010-01-30T12:08:35.481+11:00Invictus<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 19px; font-family:sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">(unconquered)</span></i></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Out of the night that covers me,<br />Black as the pit from pole to pole,<br />I thank whatever gods may be<br />For my unconquerable soul.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In the fell clutch of circumstance<br />I have not winced nor cried aloud.<br />Under the bludgeonings of chance<br />My head is bloody, but unbowed.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Beyond this place of wrath and tears<br />Looms but the Horror of the shade,<br />And yet the menace of the years<br />Finds and shall find me unafraid.</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It matters not how strait the gate,<br />How charged with punishments the scroll,<br />I am the master of my fate:<br />I am the captain of my soul.</span></span></p><p style="text-align: right;margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia, serif;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: right;margin-top: 0.4em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 0px; line-height: 1.5em; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: georgia, serif; ">William Ernest Henley. </span></p></span>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-11204608135883378762009-12-07T10:40:00.019+11:002009-12-07T11:01:10.150+11:00selection<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFFFFF;">a</span></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvmDCmdw9n-af_x5Q99MzFlKKKIRfVCACASHw8gP4BxPJD9iVx2-e6mg6NOgUjW4rAs-SuhgT8gObZW3lWwCvYtUlsGxmC85iB02WKKcmHpzCb7dZZxRAvy-LiwSlk-dFAIQl3pnxMMf7/s1600-h/F1000001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvmDCmdw9n-af_x5Q99MzFlKKKIRfVCACASHw8gP4BxPJD9iVx2-e6mg6NOgUjW4rAs-SuhgT8gObZW3lWwCvYtUlsGxmC85iB02WKKcmHpzCb7dZZxRAvy-LiwSlk-dFAIQl3pnxMMf7/s400/F1000001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412277105047400642" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92s0s0gOuIXJcoRGGshE4gM_IgSB6lnZ7QKk7rJ17cQmvMB402aG5BgweM9fEZ2gJWFfQ7FrM0bU9WbWFAi2H8JlkZhmjQ7YMe0ZN8a4jyMKbdbB6vC9hMjL817LQx-5Ny2iHV4N7pgWu/s1600-h/F1000014.jpg"><br /><br /></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92s0s0gOuIXJcoRGGshE4gM_IgSB6lnZ7QKk7rJ17cQmvMB402aG5BgweM9fEZ2gJWFfQ7FrM0bU9WbWFAi2H8JlkZhmjQ7YMe0ZN8a4jyMKbdbB6vC9hMjL817LQx-5Ny2iHV4N7pgWu/s1600-h/F1000014.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg92s0s0gOuIXJcoRGGshE4gM_IgSB6lnZ7QKk7rJ17cQmvMB402aG5BgweM9fEZ2gJWFfQ7FrM0bU9WbWFAi2H8JlkZhmjQ7YMe0ZN8a4jyMKbdbB6vC9hMjL817LQx-5Ny2iHV4N7pgWu/s400/F1000014.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412276959348681202" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhE7sYwG7_l-CIOknZcuFgupapvc17S8U8AaC9nUqyb0P5g7jG2wVf34rXUZxLmUZZJWJMCCCFUOI4iRPW6ZJuPTv26V0iO-eQpRhOnWKSR0c3tOcfX1dPk8wPzPYm4x6UnUesAPlQ8bz/s1600-h/F1000004.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhE7sYwG7_l-CIOknZcuFgupapvc17S8U8AaC9nUqyb0P5g7jG2wVf34rXUZxLmUZZJWJMCCCFUOI4iRPW6ZJuPTv26V0iO-eQpRhOnWKSR0c3tOcfX1dPk8wPzPYm4x6UnUesAPlQ8bz/s400/F1000004.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412276827853814034" /></a><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9k7xpFU7BJqwT5Dw6cAngbXLvQtuiHo5mY9aErWnPZQZKTZyytN7ERsRRMPbu_G4evW2pZxjcCCjyvzmqXIYS28pZ8dJQoOmRHlRsWZwgCPaZY117Co5WKPFXCnEa5EhSGmaAnH5MXYa/s1600-h/F1000024.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG9k7xpFU7BJqwT5Dw6cAngbXLvQtuiHo5mY9aErWnPZQZKTZyytN7ERsRRMPbu_G4evW2pZxjcCCjyvzmqXIYS28pZ8dJQoOmRHlRsWZwgCPaZY117Co5WKPFXCnEa5EhSGmaAnH5MXYa/s400/F1000024.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412276717507564914" /></a><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-JsdB3MpvkO_kRWwec0DSNgXYpe5D06vSjP-U8IWZTyASY2t7KABNO-qC46qQS8V3xEIJzDHMdJc9bXHRw1hA9nlK1uduOxi8Jmd-8mw9t01_9OfS647SEx81SslSLilxCaRPD7g5JkPy/s1600-h/F1000022.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-JsdB3MpvkO_kRWwec0DSNgXYpe5D06vSjP-U8IWZTyASY2t7KABNO-qC46qQS8V3xEIJzDHMdJc9bXHRw1hA9nlK1uduOxi8Jmd-8mw9t01_9OfS647SEx81SslSLilxCaRPD7g5JkPy/s400/F1000022.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412276536431627970" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggby4AqU1oZ778pbdDOgIAslSZr51hMYPIVPI1VqMF9AX8rfafcksng348ICoiQNeG8e8B13hXZIcemFhZLlceg2Wb_nf7tqmbSDkcsnv7EcJzRc79fVCia8kYizoBDivBL-GzlsaumlXl/s1600-h/F1000027.jpg"><br /><br /></a></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggby4AqU1oZ778pbdDOgIAslSZr51hMYPIVPI1VqMF9AX8rfafcksng348ICoiQNeG8e8B13hXZIcemFhZLlceg2Wb_nf7tqmbSDkcsnv7EcJzRc79fVCia8kYizoBDivBL-GzlsaumlXl/s1600-h/F1000027.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px; " src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggby4AqU1oZ778pbdDOgIAslSZr51hMYPIVPI1VqMF9AX8rfafcksng348ICoiQNeG8e8B13hXZIcemFhZLlceg2Wb_nf7tqmbSDkcsnv7EcJzRc79fVCia8kYizoBDivBL-GzlsaumlXl/s400/F1000027.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5412276307086113602" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-40672631683399311462009-10-21T07:49:00.002+11:002009-10-21T07:53:43.930+11:00Anatidaephobia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbU2bPw-XtThwgnr10b3xoqYEai2yImkvWp-P1c_Jx3AAGWknb_i9tD16C9BbyuU_Xhy2JvVYR5XI9-Yke9nKrHoFM73o-0KsqVpUJTAdYyzkf8dC4VGtZHkP7lRUoZH_VsaZBeeV1blcW/s1600-h/suito-osaka-rubber-duck-project-7.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbU2bPw-XtThwgnr10b3xoqYEai2yImkvWp-P1c_Jx3AAGWknb_i9tD16C9BbyuU_Xhy2JvVYR5XI9-Yke9nKrHoFM73o-0KsqVpUJTAdYyzkf8dC4VGtZHkP7lRUoZH_VsaZBeeV1blcW/s400/suito-osaka-rubber-duck-project-7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394788116768236754" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The fear that wherever you are, a duck is watching you.</span>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-49912489897500762602009-09-13T23:49:00.002+10:002009-09-14T00:00:14.301+10:00e.e. cummings<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: courier, helvetica, monospace; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 4px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 4px; "><table cellpadding="3" cellspacing="1" border="0" class="idx" style="text-align: left; width: 540px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; "><tbody><tr><td class="head" style="font-size: 14px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; "><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">i love you much(most beautiful darling)</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><br />by: e.e. cummings<br /><br /></span></td></tr><tr><td class="body" style="font-size: 12px; padding-top: 3px; padding-right: 3px; padding-bottom: 3px; padding-left: 3px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">i love you much(most beautiful darling)<br /><br />more than anyone on the earth and i<br />like you better than everything in the sky<br /><br />-sunlight and singing welcome your coming<br /><br />although winter may be everywhere<br />with such a silence and such a darkness<br />noone can quite begin to guess<br /><br />(except my life)the true time of year-<br /><br />and if what calls itself a world should have<br />the luck to hear such singing(or glimpse such<br />sunlight as will leap higher than high<br />through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each<br /><br />nearness)everyone certainly would(my<br />most beautiful darling)believe in nothing but love</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></i></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:100%;color:#333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-45152150470934673862009-09-13T10:10:00.002+10:002009-09-13T10:14:31.124+10:00inconceivable<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Princess Bride > Jazz</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpHSNWmWhsWJg0z_-xr27_yf3V2YlLW_VXj46Kathqy6mkXW7LARhVY_XGjqfiGnNya48LH5BzgLRacwryPDj7HuY4xSoDelgTKK52XXyHZpvy3Gg3qkB4RV6madPg4RoQLLoenNnur9J/s1600-h/PrincessBride001.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNpHSNWmWhsWJg0z_-xr27_yf3V2YlLW_VXj46Kathqy6mkXW7LARhVY_XGjqfiGnNya48LH5BzgLRacwryPDj7HuY4xSoDelgTKK52XXyHZpvy3Gg3qkB4RV6madPg4RoQLLoenNnur9J/s400/PrincessBride001.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380738165759225202" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Sorry, but it's true.</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-59576883092137284552009-09-11T19:42:00.005+10:002009-09-11T19:58:54.830+10:00hello<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Talk to me. Say something. Say anything. I'm curious as to what's on your mind.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmV50d4mqt8rQBwXJzs39WESY6CGLGWJC0roR3Kh-xef7F5bl5RjcbkJlWttyguTVihOVmOImq0kgDhm2M0aYHOnujjAOTyxnemgcgQmea2m_drO7hgbkmOGd_6B2mC4LSNAGzbNQ-ikju/s1600-h/04069501.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 379px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmV50d4mqt8rQBwXJzs39WESY6CGLGWJC0roR3Kh-xef7F5bl5RjcbkJlWttyguTVihOVmOImq0kgDhm2M0aYHOnujjAOTyxnemgcgQmea2m_drO7hgbkmOGd_6B2mC4LSNAGzbNQ-ikju/s400/04069501.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380146136041157778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Photograph by August Sander</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-72999279084312830592009-09-09T08:33:00.002+10:002009-09-09T08:43:33.131+10:00munch munch munch<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yesterday, as I was walking to my house and munching a chocolate chip cookie, I began to wonder what my perfect shopping list would be. Now obviously, this is not something on which I could live daily. It really just represents the weird and wonderful foods I enjoy when I have the opportunity.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>My Ideal Shopping List:</i></span></div><div><ol><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Bread - preferably multi-grain or sourdough.</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Strawberries</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Danish butter</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Chocolate Chip Cookies</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Avocados</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Honeycomb</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Goats cheese - 'Holy Goat'</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Pickled Herrings</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Soda Water</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Crispy m&ms</span></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Peanut butter (an essential)</span></li></ol><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ps. Cats are strange things. There are currently two on my bed fighting. But, when one has had enough he'll jump off the bed and calm down for a minute. Then he'll rejoin the other on the bed and start licking him. Odd.</span></div></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-82063667106654763502009-09-05T12:05:00.002+10:002009-09-05T12:07:23.911+10:00m and m's<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">Wow.</span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCblCuWOhCiVhjnEayQOCvgep6AGWejBOHRDFNkre4SADU8j9r3Dr_ljewdZmTUzksasDza5Uh5DpdAgN8brtCCCzc-yBE19_Prze7DeJ1k4D6I16Ox3Dv-lHORqKFVBTiT9muJBNtlP_m/s1600-h/Choc-wall-las-vegas.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 193px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCblCuWOhCiVhjnEayQOCvgep6AGWejBOHRDFNkre4SADU8j9r3Dr_ljewdZmTUzksasDza5Uh5DpdAgN8brtCCCzc-yBE19_Prze7DeJ1k4D6I16Ox3Dv-lHORqKFVBTiT9muJBNtlP_m/s400/Choc-wall-las-vegas.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377798815829105490" /></a>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-31141783028991278842009-09-04T01:20:00.012+10:002009-09-04T01:56:29.762+10:00genius hair<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Last Thursday I was introduced to the notion of 'genius hair'. This concept proposes that true genii have hair that verges on the outrageous, and is styled or left unkempt in a fashion which complements their brilliance and commonly eccentric nature. Naturally such genii includes:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0wJ4aSG2zoEzABpdFNDHTiIYr5ssglBrPvUCg1o3leIL90kaRpIgkY-CGzqt__vcG_7QxwWvgbfxtX8PZBzk8ZJ71LxMtLO-xvMVahx_kHi7spZocdUc72U1GyxKEyNdAR54BMTjdw05/s1600-h/beethoven.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio0wJ4aSG2zoEzABpdFNDHTiIYr5ssglBrPvUCg1o3leIL90kaRpIgkY-CGzqt__vcG_7QxwWvgbfxtX8PZBzk8ZJ71LxMtLO-xvMVahx_kHi7spZocdUc72U1GyxKEyNdAR54BMTjdw05/s400/beethoven.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377266196963185698" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ludwig van Beethoven</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zciJ7pA1OAclMoRNp-tiLWDZBJHq4th01D8gKEf2JAPjCBQbFLPBWDyCpI0miv6x_J5Z-Ep7MBRsnij-C36Yea7xcLTfG2hkACGGKlVDRq9oKa0uXEWwAWbf4c6dE-GFusjBjsI2dtkO/s1600-h/durer1.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 291px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8zciJ7pA1OAclMoRNp-tiLWDZBJHq4th01D8gKEf2JAPjCBQbFLPBWDyCpI0miv6x_J5Z-Ep7MBRsnij-C36Yea7xcLTfG2hkACGGKlVDRq9oKa0uXEWwAWbf4c6dE-GFusjBjsI2dtkO/s400/durer1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377266118741565794" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Albrecht Durer</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivLUoiwTZCw1kgw_tC01vzwSC3Y2Kko-_hTDwQuAMOFVAGNvZx-VnW0iWcRiOUKMhKec27xVWL698EWYPTrvNMs-86vxLsXvDG7A3YbJacm7rWCXuMNWxRTX8nIP4oxh-gVOfvOos5ImN/s1600-h/Albert.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhivLUoiwTZCw1kgw_tC01vzwSC3Y2Kko-_hTDwQuAMOFVAGNvZx-VnW0iWcRiOUKMhKec27xVWL698EWYPTrvNMs-86vxLsXvDG7A3YbJacm7rWCXuMNWxRTX8nIP4oxh-gVOfvOos5ImN/s400/Albert.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377266043003801842" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Albert Einstein</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSst6Mh8EM-383ye74kfC8KO6iWK2j7Z3p6y_lrAlbL03c_GtKVYL3pxQsPiQ9wy8EXE2HOrQPPOtAQ8SVN2czwE-MRXFC7yWLgQGfytC3sxz7xfrdoP7JmDhOWjo_Z_y3PEaC9IbP0jA/s1600-h/a1.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOSst6Mh8EM-383ye74kfC8KO6iWK2j7Z3p6y_lrAlbL03c_GtKVYL3pxQsPiQ9wy8EXE2HOrQPPOtAQ8SVN2czwE-MRXFC7yWLgQGfytC3sxz7xfrdoP7JmDhOWjo_Z_y3PEaC9IbP0jA/s400/a1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377265974940058290" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ezra Pound</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDNDiC6FukndfXURHsvMY64l5yvgh3EoMEnQrGHHm43Pl4HZq4Y1Nxmt-MoWWsXCjX3Oa2XvcSn_5MdH9Up3exfs8ZwClR6TpSyLQ6rYrXrYKLbjF8g7-rc8VQhlaTdOst0o0k9QWkdWJ/s1600-h/marie_antoinette_a_la_rose_1783_oil_on_canvas2.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 311px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFDNDiC6FukndfXURHsvMY64l5yvgh3EoMEnQrGHHm43Pl4HZq4Y1Nxmt-MoWWsXCjX3Oa2XvcSn_5MdH9Up3exfs8ZwClR6TpSyLQ6rYrXrYKLbjF8g7-rc8VQhlaTdOst0o0k9QWkdWJ/s400/marie_antoinette_a_la_rose_1783_oil_on_canvas2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377265882059430594" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and, Marie Antoinette</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Personally, I wouldn't mind having genius hair. There's something quite cool about the fact that you could roll out of bed and suddenly have the hair of true sagacity. I suppose it has something to do with the idea of being able to constantly maintain a calm facade, even when things go a little crazy - even if the craziest thing is your hair.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">ps. I particularly like the Pound photograph. Partially because he has a look that if his eyes were to roll back in his head, he'd look just like a zombie. Also partially because it's a Henri Cartier-Bresson portrait, and I can't resist Henri.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">pps. Who else thinks that Durer is a poser? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-3691736327079070572009-09-03T18:48:00.003+10:002009-09-03T20:02:21.666+10:00polari:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://www.ling.lancs.ac.uk/staff/paulb/polari/home.htm">The lost language of gay men.</a></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Recently I became aware of Polari, a supposedly 'homosexual' language used in the 1970s-80s. Today, Polari is more of a novelty, presenting a style of discourse we would probably consider stereotypical of a very enthusiastic or hyperbolic gay man. There is even a Polari dictionary, written by Paul Baker, aptly named '<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Fantabulosa-Dictionary-Polari-Gay-Slang/dp/0826459617">Fantabulosa</a>'.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><p class="MsoNormal">I came across this interesting and highly amusing language in a Self and Other lecture that focused on the identification of gender and sexuality through discourse. What particularly piqued my interest was an example of this 'gayspeak' in the lecture, and then the translated comparison:</p><p class="MsoNormal">"As feely homies, when we launched ourselves on the gay scene, Polari was all the rage. We would zhoosh our riahs, powder our eeks, climb into our bona new drag, don our batts and troll off to some bona bijou bar. In the bar, we would stand around parlyaring with our sisters, varda the bona cartes on the butch homie ajax who, if we fluttered our ogleriahs, might just troll over to offer a light."</p><p class="MsoNormal">Which, when 'translated', means something a bit more like this:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><!--StartFragment--> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>"As young men, when we launched ourselves on the gay scene, Polari was all the rage. We would fix our hair, powder our faces, climb into our nice new clothes, don our shoes and cruise to some nice small bar. In the bar, we would stand around chatting with our gay friends, admiring the nice bulge in the pants of the butch man nearby who, if we fluttered our eyelashes, might just wander over to offer a light."<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class="MsoNormal">My favourite word would have to be <i>ogelriahs. </i>It just seems so logical.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Well. I hope you enjoyed my departure into the distinctive lingo of the 'gay male'. I should go finish cleaning my room now.</p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p> <!--EndFragment--> </span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-74279293132685697532009-09-03T00:02:00.004+10:002009-09-03T00:10:45.021+10:00bah<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It's technically the 3rd and thus a new day. I feel justified blogging in such quick succession now. I just wanted to share with you this image of 'thinks-he's-low-maintenance-but-is-actually-high-maintenance' sheep. Enjoy.</span></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk3ctaDjOlsZkTgDkdwP7aeSO1m_waVTDGbYVwIEH8Jj0zR_gdcdHsNyPfx1RbQ8FYq2OHLpY6jLxp0e8L4viUdS0J1zNmygaZrr9A9pCO5tMRBe5ki-JxIR1W5em-WRN5BCmYlheqD-w/s1600-h/6a00d83451946d69e20120a5581d72970c-800wi.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 386px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAk3ctaDjOlsZkTgDkdwP7aeSO1m_waVTDGbYVwIEH8Jj0zR_gdcdHsNyPfx1RbQ8FYq2OHLpY6jLxp0e8L4viUdS0J1zNmygaZrr9A9pCO5tMRBe5ki-JxIR1W5em-WRN5BCmYlheqD-w/s400/6a00d83451946d69e20120a5581d72970c-800wi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376870429530893714" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I should definitely get over <a href="http://www.abeautifulrevolution.com/">this</a> site already. Thank you for being so quirky.</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-29163943661514580842009-09-02T23:41:00.004+10:002009-09-03T00:02:13.903+10:00the wonders of tea<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXbV8HqnKG0Bx0BDzAvdrqsy7KSKYuysUdhQ9CPKYCD_RBiEdMe4_QOKFDgwFeMw6B-1MypvjbTFu41uS7SfIMxsPIk5_Ev7RCIKs33Iw0Nm5yflZU1HAJAtOZoBwghDk7x_i2gxKNKDs/s1600-h/6a00d83451946d69e20120a5173a6c970b-800wi.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXbV8HqnKG0Bx0BDzAvdrqsy7KSKYuysUdhQ9CPKYCD_RBiEdMe4_QOKFDgwFeMw6B-1MypvjbTFu41uS7SfIMxsPIk5_Ev7RCIKs33Iw0Nm5yflZU1HAJAtOZoBwghDk7x_i2gxKNKDs/s400/6a00d83451946d69e20120a5173a6c970b-800wi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376866061372167522" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.abeautifulrevolution.com/">*chuckle*</a></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-25867818888984851442009-08-29T00:36:00.005+10:002009-08-29T02:01:26.454+10:00why...<span style="font-size:85%;">Why do all the little things seem so important? Why are they the things you want or worry about most? Why are they the things you snap about? Why is saying sorry afterwards so hard? Why is it hearing the 'it's okay' after the sorry so important?</span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtiPmAsKO12qrZT3As4yk0iprWWq1avx3Pu6aYfgox4gHF38qsCEr91Ag1yJg-EwtKDGQQxq8L0DTgQgK6rQJCcq-UJALF66TuOqN9uNNHayjMEkYEO2CnBsMH0ue_VXIEWDKLLFQBfTA/s1600-h/6a00d83451946d69e20112791dd8c428a4-800wi.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 333px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5375043342296682482" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXtiPmAsKO12qrZT3As4yk0iprWWq1avx3Pu6aYfgox4gHF38qsCEr91Ag1yJg-EwtKDGQQxq8L0DTgQgK6rQJCcq-UJALF66TuOqN9uNNHayjMEkYEO2CnBsMH0ue_VXIEWDKLLFQBfTA/s400/6a00d83451946d69e20112791dd8c428a4-800wi.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Why do I overanalyse?<br /></span><div></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-26729278809837524892009-08-18T19:49:00.004+10:002009-08-18T21:05:39.656+10:00rabbit bag<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsI69a1bdj-cyOB6JVV9qLtQLTrnRenbPCqiJIaTqhAMjn8RzcQKUCnlgfT5HVbbTWnSwRQv4MDpBsf2SK2Scz6yTMTlc7az2JJuzP4c_IhBfAoFpSha78Qt177Twe2wvTExRWP7dPqtt/s1600-h/23625_7_468.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKsI69a1bdj-cyOB6JVV9qLtQLTrnRenbPCqiJIaTqhAMjn8RzcQKUCnlgfT5HVbbTWnSwRQv4MDpBsf2SK2Scz6yTMTlc7az2JJuzP4c_IhBfAoFpSha78Qt177Twe2wvTExRWP7dPqtt/s400/23625_7_468.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371238756700782866" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">It's so <a href="http://81m80.blogspot.com/2008/08/rabbit-bag.html">cute</a>.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm flying away to Perth on Thursday night so I can go and sleep on my cousin's floor. He's turning 21 and I promised I'd be there. So come rain, hail or viral illness I will be there for his birthday shindig on Saturday. Aren't I fantastic?</span><br /></div></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-86469243140047005442009-08-04T22:53:00.003+10:002009-08-04T23:07:51.952+10:00new post<span style="font-size:85%;">It's been a while since I've bothered blogging. A lot has probably happened since I last posted something, but chances are that if you're reading this you'll already know that. The most significant occurrence as of late would be that I am now employed. Unfortunately, whilst employment comes with many benefits (the most obvious being money) it also poses many dilemmas on which I must deliberate. I am currently torn, as most people who suddenly find themselves with an income are, about what to do with it - whether to save it sensibly, or recklessly spend it. If you have any advice about whether or not to be financially responsible (or even what I should spend it on (within reason)) please say so.<br /><br />Also, whilst on the topic of finances, I found this interesting method of storing financial documents.</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">'The jars hanging from the ceiling in the showroom ... are filled with their old financial statements.'<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_janTwvjnYz-AKEVSXtkKL9OHgyi9EV6l6Hl9OXPzfIxFgqV5OwTldkeFYHimQ5tGZCXeQL1baOVhWMkHiCC-TRHezEmmgSCbSDg73mYLtySnomE-za6C4j0u2CTe2QHAcOEBolblfc4w/s1600-h/3_4_09_George_Ksubi15823.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_janTwvjnYz-AKEVSXtkKL9OHgyi9EV6l6Hl9OXPzfIxFgqV5OwTldkeFYHimQ5tGZCXeQL1baOVhWMkHiCC-TRHezEmmgSCbSDg73mYLtySnomE-za6C4j0u2CTe2QHAcOEBolblfc4w/s400/3_4_09_George_Ksubi15823.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366093536904851186" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">credit: <a href="http://www.theselby.com/3_4_09_GeorgeGorrowAU/index.html">The Selby</a></span><br /></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-39656374467219415092009-06-20T21:18:00.004+10:002009-06-20T21:22:44.871+10:00devastate me<span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vEGLtmEojd0">This</a> was an entry in the 2008 PNAN Youth Arts Festival, a competition of sorts which centres around drugs and alcohol.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">I'm not sure why I like it so much. In fact I'm not sure if I do at all. But it managed to completely captivate me. </span>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-7316758130201490982009-06-11T00:53:00.004+10:002009-06-11T01:13:07.716+10:00blah blah blah<div align="center"><em>'sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me.'</em></div><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">If you've spent any time in some sort of school system, you will know just how inaccurate this little mantra is. As children we are all fed the same phrase, essentially teaching us to pretend that the mean words and people aren't there. But as you get older, the verbal sticks and stones grow more accurate and often more painful - and less forgivable as a result. Today I discovered the true extent of just how hurtful and frightening words can be. Of course this wasn't surprising, but it was distressing nonetheless. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><em></em>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-22779013598358427712009-06-09T00:43:00.002+10:002009-06-09T00:47:08.049+10:00fixed gear<div><span style="font-size:85%;">Some people have too much time on their hands. </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHstFmCjogc"><span style="font-size:85%;">click.</span></a></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344968249212212946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2vCze8M0fIHIlY0Xhw5NhJu3NAbienaeugVRe01MtRsg1_FSozBbvkWKCeiRPgAodN9gOc7SZmdBglEMyWX-HRh4nw424jin9qSPpwdaJN6ReyJucFHakZYn6rcjN79CJeedInEJU0Ol/s400/031009t4.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-size:78%;">My problem is I haven't got enough, but I act as if I do.</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-87442015009458282222009-06-08T08:54:00.004+10:002009-06-08T09:08:21.398+10:00snippets<span style="font-size:85%;">At the moment, I am enamoured of short stories. Something about their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">succinct</span> nature, and novel approach to plot is incredibly satisfying. This current fascination is, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">unsurprisingly</span>, the product of my literature studies. Over the course of the semester I have been introduce to two anthologies of short stories: <em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Dubliners</span></em> by James Joyce and <em>after the quake</em> by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Haruki</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Murakami</span> (although, I suppose the names are reversed in Japan). However, this morning I stumbled across a grim little tale by Saki called </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a href="http://www.horrormasters.com/Text/a0072.pdf"><em><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Sredni</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Vashtar</span></em></a>. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Read it. Let me know what you think.</span>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-82421895454576594812009-06-06T18:02:00.002+10:002009-06-06T18:05:47.341+10:00abroad<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JoNZm0sYMgMs-EOsQGITqLWI5I4tKzg36TG76D_PLo1OsHjqPVwD0ErQqi7WeG1luV6Ch3p8PfXZUAD1Jb-Sk0ggDm0zKapfvsZdIM5kan5V9tvZMk-m6vK5343YLpTVG6Vf_rQLgebD/s1600-h/Paris,%2520France,%25201936.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344122147187071234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3JoNZm0sYMgMs-EOsQGITqLWI5I4tKzg36TG76D_PLo1OsHjqPVwD0ErQqi7WeG1luV6Ch3p8PfXZUAD1Jb-Sk0ggDm0zKapfvsZdIM5kan5V9tvZMk-m6vK5343YLpTVG6Vf_rQLgebD/s400/Paris,%2520France,%25201936.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"France has neither winter nor summer nor morals. Apart from these drawbacks it is a fine country."</em><br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></strong></div><div align="right"><strong><span style="font-size:78%;color:#999999;">- MARK TWAIN</span></strong></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-73397351179217259392009-06-03T23:20:00.004+10:002009-06-03T23:35:39.066+10:00latin.<div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffff;"><em>*</em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>meum cerebrum nocet.</em></span></div><div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ffffcc;">*</span></em></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:85%;">Everything has begun to creep up on me: university, exams, illness, unemployment... In order to assertain any modicum of independence I need to do something about these issues. However, the list of things I need to do continues to grow - and it's suffocating. Eventually, stress jumbles everything together, producing a constant sense of frustration. But for the moment I'm just going to let it slide by. Resumes and job-hunting can wait. For now, or at least until exams are gone, I intend to ignore the pangs of guilt I feel when I ask my parents for money. And travel tissue packs can be purchased.</span></div>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497448798953534100.post-87598750157592845692009-05-23T13:00:00.003+10:002009-05-23T13:39:52.737+10:00philosophically political economics<span style="font-size:78%;">CHALLENGING THE PARADIGM</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Recently in PPE (Philosophy, Politics and Economics) we were given the following analogy and asked to discuss it in a lecture.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">'...Humanitarian interventions are seen as attempts at rescuing the innocent and helpless from persecution and extreme distress. We can dramatize its appeal by resort to a simple analogy. You are on your way home from work and you see a very strong man involved in an argument with his own child. It's noisy and unpleasant, but (you reason) it's their family and none of your business. But the dispute rapidly heats up and the man begins beating the child with a heavy stick. You protest and remonstrate with the man, but he tells you to get lost. He continues beating the child viciously, and indeed draws a knife and begins to brandish it at him. You fear for the child's life and as it happens you are (legitimately) carrying a gun. Surely you should threaten the father, and if the threats don't work, you are morally entitled to shoot...' </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Later, in our tutorials we were given case studies from Rwanda or Kosovo, and asked to decide if intervention was justified. We were also asked to contemplate who and how it would be implemented. Military intervention almost always was the answer. This being the case, it is safe to assume that </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>humanitarian</strong> intervention often results in mass killing, and even war. </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Seems rather paradoxical doesn't it?</span>matryoshkahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09679475546536080031noreply@blogger.com1