What do you want to hear? You want me to tell you how beautiful and brilliant your posts are? How they fill my day with wit and insight, controversy and rage? How I comment, as pithily and sharply as possible, with the hopes of being front paged and tagged? How the cast of characters you have amassed here are a regular traveling band of stand-up comedians, iconoclasts, and genuine artistes? Or would you rather I just say...
[Tommy is immitating Marlon Brando from "On the Waterfront"] Tommy: I coulda been somebody, instead of just an ice cream truck driver, which is what I am, let's face it. Debbie: Who was that, Jerry Lewis? Tommy: Jerry Lewis? You thought that was Jerry Lewis? (Trees Lounge, 1986)
Best movie ever made about what is like to be a regular at a neighborhood bar.
We hunt for the tree tomorrow morning. We are in the heart of Christmas tree farm country here in the mountains of NC. As perfect as they all are, it's still difficult to select THE one from the thousands to choose from.
It's been a busy week. We received the green light from the franchise I co-own for me to buy out my partner. We've had a great relationship, but he's ready to bow out. I've been on the go all day to set everything into motion on the transfer.
Selecting a tree will help be therapeutic.
We could drive on up to Joyce Kilmer Forest and cut one there, but the feds look poorly on that type of behavior.
Peace on earth, y'all....all y'all (that's plural here in the South).
Paint Your Wagon was the best Lee Marvin/Clint Eastwood musical ever!
Some thoughts:
Many people are upset that the Senate didn't pass the Bailout Bill.
Others are upset that it probably doesn't matter, because the Pres is going to authorize the bailout money anyhoo, using the bank bailout kitty.
Wealthy socialites are unhappy because some swindler stole billions from them, they probably want a bailout as well. Congress may Balk, but President Bush is compassionate, he may acquiesce (did I spell that right?).
As for me, I am happy. My fridge is full, the kids are asleep, and there are two cans of Guinness cooling in the freezer, and I have gone another day without being a partial owner of three of the most poorly-led corporations in the country, so what's not to be happy about?
Finished my first quarter of PhD studies today. Turned in a 30 page paper on beauty, focusing on a particular theologian.
Here's my conclusion:
“We are here to be transformed,” Arthur Danto writes. Later on in his book he adds, “Beauty is a necessary condition for life as we would want to live it.” We are left with the questions of what it means to be transformed and what kind of life we want to live, indeed what kind of life we are called to live. This call is not a moral demand that represses our creative instinct and separates us from this present world in exchange for some heavenly, bodiless, absorption into a nameless “Other”. Rather, this call is given by the Triune God—Father and Son and Holy Spirit—who exist in eternal community, united and yet diverse. This call, this work of restoration encounters us in time and encounters us in particular moments. The nature of this work is among the most important questions in theology. So, it seems particularly helpful to see how Jürgen Moltmann, a major contributor to systematic theology, has worked out this question, and more specifically to see how this work can help us better understand the nature and experience of beauty in our lives.
God is the maker of heaven and earth, indeed the remaker of heaven and earth. We are called not as slaves, but as heirs, to be conformed to his likeness, and join with him in an eternal dance of shared mutuality. Because of this we take particular note of the characteristics of the God who calls all of humanity back into an enlivening relationship. Among these manifold attributes is that of beauty. God is beautiful and God creates beauty. Our participation with this God of Beauty is one of passionate love, eros, in which we are caught up with each other in both constant desire and constant freedom. This Eros with us is God’s own Spirit, who with the Son and the Father, have worked and continue to work for the fullness of life and beauty in the cosmos. Our experience of beauty is that moment in which the Spirit who is raising us up recognizes with us, and within us, the glory of God’s work, wherein we experience a moment of shared life, and hope, and liberation that not only excites us with the fullness but pulls us into its creativity and enlivens our lives with a profound peace and delight.
This experience of beauty is an experience we share with God, an experience that endears us to him even in moments of struggle or darkness or frustration. We are given insight into his being, even as it is not always directly him we are seeing. He created what is good and continues to create, inspiring us in creativity, to take joy in what is beautiful in him, in this world, in music, in art, in relationships, and in all kinds of expressions. It is this intersection of Spirit and eschatology that I experienced on the lawn in front of Blanchard Hall, and have experienced in so many different, not always as profound, ways before and since then. It was an experience of God, a sharing with God of a moment that reflects the eternal moment of his perichoretic invitation. He calls us to share with him beauty of all kinds in our present experiences and in our future participation. Beauty is a gift from God, shared with God. And it is very good.
This experience of beauty is an experience we share with God, an experience that endears us to him even in moments of struggle or darkness or frustration
Wow...Paddy, beautiful and so true.
I'm getting ready to go to a surprise party for my Father's 80th birthday on Christmas Eve. I rejoice in my Father's life, sense of humour, vigour for life and that we are all here to enjoy each other as a family. My sweet husband is going to go to visit his equally aged Mother for the very same reasons. This will be the first time in over 18 years that we will not be spending Christmas together.
When you are young, like some of the more bellicose posters on this blog, you have generations standing between you and
As we get older and people who came before us (great grandparents, grand parents, uncles, aunts and even parents) begin to fall off of the end of the conveyor belt of life.... we begin to appreciate the time that we have left and appreciate those who still are on the conveyor belt.
What a coincidence, we usually cut our tree down from the Joyce Kilmer rest stop in the NJ Turnpike!
Off topic - somewhere along the line, we reached the tipping point where there too much rot among the leaders of our society--from Washington (including Sacramento, Springfield, Trenton) to Wall Street to Main Street to Universities--for us to really recover from these crises.
Nice photo, but the red splotches on the bark remind me of bloody wounds.
Looking forward to reading your excerpt more thoroughly, Paddy O., once the kids are in bed.
Speaking of transformation, I sliced some apples that had become too soft for eating and mixed them into sauerkraut, which I layered on top of some pork. Two hours and 350 degrees later, the transformation is complete.
And indeed there will be time For the yellow smoke that slides along the street, Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate; Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo.
Education is an extreme act of self-absorption. And, this is not at all limited to folks who take classes covering theology.
This phenomena may be seem particularly obvious when folks take theology classes because they openly write about themselves.
But, it could be argued that spending years focused on filling your mind with esoteric scientific stuff is even more self-absorbing. It's possible that these folks don't even notice the luxury and self-focus of their learning. And, they may develop an arrogance that convinces them their efforts are self sacrificing, noble, meaningful and purposeful. They have faith too.
I too am a swinger of birch trees. And Man, did that ever piss off Grandma Kickline, who wasn't even my real grandma. <--- 10% of true. The tree was actually a weeping willow, and for a pre-schooler, it was full of bounce.
But this cold snowy weather is perfect for a hot bowl of bean soup.
Sitting here Couldn't help hear you talking to your best friend Say you're not satisfied Things ain't working out with your girlfriend So your searching for someone new Someone to hold you tight, someone to treat you right Though your girlfriend is a friend of mine Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime
Call me - if you need someone to talk to-a Call me - satisfaction guaranteed Call me - if you need someone to talk to-a Call me - call me!
She wasn't good to ya Was a prude to ya Don't like to do the things you like to do She doesn't do to ya The things she did to ya Show you loving like she used to
Well, I been watching you boy And I've got what you want, got what you need Though your girlfriend is a friend of mine Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime
Hello, how ya doing? No, shes gone I figured I'd give you a call and see if you were serious There's this little place that I like to go to It's kinda dark and quiet and...
Well, I been watching you boy And I've got what you want, got what you need And though your girlfriend is a friend of mine Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime.
There is another one that recently moved in that is 22. He likes to wear bowties. I look him up on google and his family comes from a Boston Brahim pedigree. The grandfather and the father also wore bowties. His last name has a IV in it=gag. His father also paid for his place. As far as I can tell he doesn't work, just travels.
I am resentful of these punks. I busted my ass and paid for this place on my own and have a huge mortgage payment. The condo fees are close to 1000.00/month so these brats parents are also paying this for the twats.
The 25 year old has a catered dinner for friends every Saturday night.
I, on the other hand, come from Waunakee, Wisconsin-the only one in the world-woo hoo.
Come on Oh baby dont you wanna go Come on Oh baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Sweet home chicago
Come on Baby dont you wanna go Hidehey Baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Oh sweet home chicago
Well, one and one is two Six and two is eight Come on baby dont ya make me late Hidehey Baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Sweet home chicago
Come on Baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Sweet home chicago
Six and three is nine Nine and nine is eighteen Look there brother baby and see what Ive seen Hidehey Baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Sweet home chicago
Oh come on Baby dont you wanna go Come on Baby dont you wanna go Back to that same old place Sweet home chicago
How a blogger who gets hundreds of comments a day must feel:
Everybody's talking at me I don't hear a word they're saying Only the echoes of my mind
People stopping staring I can't see their faces Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm going where the sun keeps shining Thru' the pouring rain Going where the weather suits my clothes Banking off of the North East wind Sailing on a summer breeze And skipping over the ocean like a stone
You talk too much, you talk too much, I can't believe the things that you say everyday If you keep on talking baby, you know you're bound to drive me away
Now you get on the telephone with your girlfriend, your conversation baby ain't got no end Yakety-yakety-yakety-yak all the time, you keep on talking baby drive me out of my mind You talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday If you keep on talking baby, you know you're bound to drive me away
Well I laid out in the afternoon I start to nappin', you walk into the room with them jaws a-flappin' You keep that motormouth moving morning, noon and night, you keep on talking baby make my head turn white You talk too much, I can't believe the things that you say everyday If you keep on talking baby, you know you're bound just to drive me away
I think you're trying to put me through some kind of test, I'm begging you baby won't you give it a rest You talk about people that you don't even know, keep it up baby I'm gonna pick up and blow You talk too much, I can't believe the things that you say everyday If you keep on talking baby, you know you're bound to drive me away
Don't get me wrong baby I don't mean to complain, but if you keep on talking you're gonna drive me insane You keep on talking all around the clock, I'm begging you baby won't you please stop You talk too much, I can't believe the things that you say everyday If you keep on talking baby, you know you're bound to drive me away
Maybe the parents of these boys you love to hate have all their money invested with Bernie Madoff. There are quite a few trust fund types in for a rude shock. Will this make you feel better?
Home is where I want to be Pick me up and turn me round I feel numb - born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun The less we say about it the better Make it up as we go along Feet on the ground Head in the sky It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing
Hi yo I got plenty of time Hi yo you got light in your eyes And you're standing here beside me I love the passing of time Never for money Always for love Cover up and say goodnight . . . say goodnight
Home - is where I want to be But I guess I'm already there I come home - she lifted up her wings Guess that this must be the place I can't tell one from another Did I find you, or you find me? There was a time Before we were born If someone asks, this is where I'll be . . . where I'll be
Hi yo We drift in and out Hi yo sing into my mouth Out of all those kinds of people You got a face with a view I'm just an animal looking for a home Share the same space for a minute or two And you love me till my heart stops Love me till I'm dead Eyes that light up, eyes look through you Cover up the blank spots Hit me on the head Ah ooh
Here comes the rain again Falling on my head like a memory Falling on my head like a new emotion I want to walk in the open wind I want to talk like lovers do I want to dive into your ocean Is it raining with you
So baby talk to me Like lovers do Walk with me Like lovers do Talk to me Like lovers do
Ooooh Yes I am a woman in love and I'm talking to you, You know I know how you feel, what a woman can do. It's a right, I defend, over and over again. What do I do. I'm a woman in love And I'll do anything to get you into my world And hold you within It's a right I defend ....
WHEN I see birches bend to left and right Across the line of straighter darker trees, I like to think some boy's been swinging them. But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay. Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning After a rain. They click upon themselves As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel. Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust— Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen. They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load, And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed So low for long, they never right themselves: You may see their trunks arching in the woods Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair Before them over their heads to dry in the sun. But I was going to say when Truth broke in With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm (Now am I free to be poetical?) I should prefer to have some boy bend them As he went out and in to fetch the cows— Some boy too far from town to learn baseball, Whose only play was what he found himself, Summer or winter, and could play alone. One by one he subdued his father's trees By riding them down over and over again Until he took the stiffness out of them, And not one but hung limp, not one was left For him to conquer. He learned all there was To learn about not launching out too soon And so not carrying the tree away Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise To the top branches, climbing carefully With the same pains you use to fill a cup Up to the brim, and even above the brim. Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish, Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches; And so I dream of going back to be. It's when I'm weary of considerations, And life is too much like a pathless wood Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs Broken across it, and one eye is weeping From a twig's having lashed across it open. I'd like to get away from earth awhile And then come back to it and begin over. May no fate wilfully misunderstand me And half grant what I wish and snatch me away Not to return. Earth's the right place for love: I don't know where it's likely to go better. I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree, And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more, But dipped its top and set me down again. That would be good both going and coming back. One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
En la cama - is a good Chilean film I've watched recently. But in a scene that proposes that people who are not settled on a cinematic genre, might have something wrong with them, people who are all over the map when it comes to films they enjoy.
I'm trying to understand how this was meant to enlighten people in the film.
I consume things that are supposedly meant to be foreign to me. if and when I find them enjoyable I keep enjoying them.
This is the day Of the expanding man That shape is my shade There where I used to stand It seems like only yesterday I gazed through the glass At ramblers Wild gamblers That's all in the past
You call me a fool You say it's a crazy scheme This one's for real I already bought the dream So useless to ask me why Throw a kiss and say goodbye I'll make it this time I'm ready to cross that fine line
CHORUS: I'll learn to work the saxophone I'll play just what I feel Drink Scotch whisky all night long And die behind the wheel They got a name for the winners in the world I want a name when I lose They call Alabama the Crimson Tide Call me Deacon Blues
My back to the wall A victim of laughing chance This is for me The essence of true romance Sharing the things we know and love With those of my kind Libations Sensations That stagger the mind
I crawl like a viper Through these suburban streets Make love to these women Languid and bittersweet I'll rise when the sun goes down Cover every game in town A world of my own I'll make it my home sweet home
CHORUS
This is the night Of the expanding the man I take one last drag As I approach the stand I cried when I wrote this song Sue me if I play too long This brother is free I'll be what I want to be..
Cry me a future Where the revelations run amok Ladies and gentlemen Lions and tigers come running Just to steal your luck . . . Double chins and bowling pins Unholy presbyterians Land is full of medicine I find it when I'm slipping in ...into Michigan
"I wish the rare clumbers would shit in his shoes that sit outside his door."
Alternatively, have you considered baking a coffee cake and leaving it by their door?
You could add a nice neighborly note signed, "love, Tituswhobustedhishumptogethereunlikeyouspoiled littlesexpottrustfundbratswhothinkyou'rebetterthaneverybodyelse." You could draw little hearts and x's and o's to really bring home the point. You get the idea - be creative, give yourself permission to express your deepest most genuine self, that little-boy Titus who loves to be tickled and hugged and told not to worry - the world is a safe place after all.
It's worth a try. Nothing says "I'd really rather fuck you than allow my doggies to take dumps in your shoes but, hey, a fella's gotta do what a fella's gotta do" like a fresh warm loaf. Of banana bread.
LutherM, Thanks, you beat me to it. I had been thinking about Frost's Birches while watching news reports on the ice storms here in New England, storms that have left a million without power and, I dare say, many birches bent.
The groves were immensely peaceful, lying there in the late-summer sunshine of a cool August day, with the breeze murmuring in the tops of the two double-trunked elm trees that rise above them. They seemed to say, “We have reached a reality beyond all your strivings and sufferings; on your terms it is neither good nor bad; you cannot conceive of it. You cannot help us now, anymore than we can help you. But we are serene and timeless, and you are not. We have--secrets, infinitely sad to your mind, no doubt, but in tune with nature. We have known all the suffering you now know and then some; we are beyond your sympathy, as you are beyond our pity. Look: we give you the breath of peacefulness--we are a part of the long afternoon of life; take the hint, go your way as best you can; do not ask too many questions; it will not be long before you join us.
Since everyone is posting lyrics just in case you didn't see the video I posted.
This song just makes me happy.
Well its all right, riding around in the breeze Well its all right, if you live the life you please Well its all right, doing the best you can Well its all right, as long as you lend a hand
You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring Waiting for someone to tell you everything Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring Maybe a diamond ring
(chorus 2) Well its all right, even if they say youre wrong Well its all right, sometimes you gotta be strong Well its all right, as long as you got somewhere to lay Well its all right, everyday is judgement day
Maybe somewhere down the road aways Youll think of me, and wonder where I am these days Maybe somewhere down the road when somebody plays Purple haze
(chorus 3) Well its all right, even when push comes to shove Well its all right, if you got someone to love Well its all right, everythingll work out fine Well its all right, were going to the end of the line
Dont have to be ashamed of the car I drive Im just glad to be here, happy to be alive It dont matter if youre by my side Im satisfied
(chorus 4) Well its all right, even if youre old and grey Well its all right, you still got something to say Well its all right, remember to live and let live Well its all right, the best you can do is forgive
(chorus 5) Well its all right, riding around in the breeze Well its all right, if you live the life you please Well its all right, even if the sun dont shine Well its all right, were going to the end of the line
I am a participant in the Amazon Services LLC Associates Program, an affiliate advertising program designed to provide a means for me to earn fees by linking to Amazon.com and affiliated sites.
Encourage Althouse by making a donation:
Make a 1-time donation or set up a monthly donation of any amount you choose:
७६ टिप्पण्या:
What do you want to hear? You want me to tell you how beautiful and brilliant your posts are? How they fill my day with wit and insight, controversy and rage? How I comment, as pithily and sharply as possible, with the hopes of being front paged and tagged? How the cast of characters you have amassed here are a regular traveling band of stand-up comedians, iconoclasts, and genuine artistes? Or would you rather I just say...
"First!"
Some kind of happiness is measured out in miles
What makes you think you're something special when you smile?
You can talk to me
You can talk to me
You can talk to me
If you're lonely you can talk to me
I talk to the trees
But they don't listen to me
I talk to the stars
But they never hear me
The breeze hasn't time
To stop, and hear what I say
I talk to them all
In vain
But suddenly, my words
Reach someone elses ear
At someone elses heart
Strings too
I tell you my dreams
And while you're listening to me
I suddenly see them
Come true
I can see us some April night
Looking out across a rollin' farm
Having supper in the candlelight
Walking later, arm in arm
Then I'll tell you
How I pass the day
Thinking mainly how
The night would be
Then I'll try to find
The words to say
All the things you
Mean to me
I tell you my dreams
And while you're
Listening to me
I suddenly see them
Come true
A great song from Paint Your Wagon
My mother went back home to the Dominican Republic.
She took me to the post office to renew my passport.
hint hint.. She might not be back for a while.
Hey Paul - how is the new job?
[Tommy is immitating Marlon Brando from "On the Waterfront"]
Tommy: I coulda been somebody, instead of just an ice cream truck driver, which is what I am, let's face it.
Debbie: Who was that, Jerry Lewis?
Tommy: Jerry Lewis? You thought that was Jerry Lewis?
(Trees Lounge, 1986)
Best movie ever made about what is like to be a regular at a neighborhood bar.
Talk to me ..
Stevie Nicks
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d0Fl8dG3gHg
I'm 49 and I graduated from law school today.
I'll take a shower tonight and hose myself off, and tomorrow I'll be back in the real world.
(My wife says I've become argumentative in the last few years, but I can't see the basis of her claims.)
We hunt for the tree tomorrow morning. We are in the heart of Christmas tree farm country here in the mountains of NC. As perfect as they all are, it's still difficult to select THE one from the thousands to choose from.
It's been a busy week. We received the green light from the franchise I co-own for me to buy out my partner. We've had a great relationship, but he's ready to bow out. I've been on the go all day to set everything into motion on the transfer.
Selecting a tree will help be therapeutic.
We could drive on up to Joyce Kilmer Forest and cut one there, but the feds look poorly on that type of behavior.
Peace on earth, y'all....all y'all (that's plural here in the South).
Congratulations, Quayle.
Paint Your Wagon was the best Lee Marvin/Clint Eastwood musical ever!
Some thoughts:
Many people are upset that the Senate didn't pass the Bailout Bill.
Others are upset that it probably doesn't matter, because the Pres is going to authorize the bailout money anyhoo, using the bank bailout kitty.
Wealthy socialites are unhappy because some swindler stole billions from them, they probably want a bailout as well. Congress may Balk, but President Bush is compassionate, he may acquiesce (did I spell that right?).
As for me, I am happy. My fridge is full, the kids are asleep, and there are two cans of Guinness cooling in the freezer, and I have gone another day without being a partial owner of three of the most poorly-led corporations in the country, so what's not to be happy about?
Finished my first quarter of PhD studies today. Turned in a 30 page paper on beauty, focusing on a particular theologian.
Here's my conclusion:
“We are here to be transformed,” Arthur Danto writes. Later on in his book he adds, “Beauty is a necessary condition for life as we would want to live it.” We are left with the questions of what it means to be transformed and what kind of life we want to live, indeed what kind of life we are called to live. This call is not a moral demand that represses our creative instinct and separates us from this present world in exchange for some heavenly, bodiless, absorption into a nameless “Other”. Rather, this call is given by the Triune God—Father and Son and Holy Spirit—who exist in eternal community, united and yet diverse. This call, this work of restoration encounters us in time and encounters us in particular moments. The nature of this work is among the most important questions in theology. So, it seems particularly helpful to see how Jürgen Moltmann, a major contributor to systematic theology, has worked out this question, and more specifically to see how this work can help us better understand the nature and experience of beauty in our lives.
God is the maker of heaven and earth, indeed the remaker of heaven and earth. We are called not as slaves, but as heirs, to be conformed to his likeness, and join with him in an eternal dance of shared mutuality. Because of this we take particular note of the characteristics of the God who calls all of humanity back into an enlivening relationship. Among these manifold attributes is that of beauty. God is beautiful and God creates beauty. Our participation with this God of Beauty is one of passionate love, eros, in which we are caught up with each other in both constant desire and constant freedom. This Eros with us is God’s own Spirit, who with the Son and the Father, have worked and continue to work for the fullness of life and beauty in the cosmos. Our experience of beauty is that moment in which the Spirit who is raising us up recognizes with us, and within us, the glory of God’s work, wherein we experience a moment of shared life, and hope, and liberation that not only excites us with the fullness but pulls us into its creativity and enlivens our lives with a profound peace and delight.
This experience of beauty is an experience we share with God, an experience that endears us to him even in moments of struggle or darkness or frustration. We are given insight into his being, even as it is not always directly him we are seeing. He created what is good and continues to create, inspiring us in creativity, to take joy in what is beautiful in him, in this world, in music, in art, in relationships, and in all kinds of expressions. It is this intersection of Spirit and eschatology that I experienced on the lawn in front of Blanchard Hall, and have experienced in so many different, not always as profound, ways before and since then. It was an experience of God, a sharing with God of a moment that reflects the eternal moment of his perichoretic invitation. He calls us to share with him beauty of all kinds in our present experiences and in our future participation. Beauty is a gift from God, shared with God. And it is very good.
I'm 49 and I graduated from law school today.
Kharakter (1997 film)
Please talk to me... Won't you please come talk to me?
Quayle said...
"I'm 49 and I graduated from law school today."
Congratulations!
This experience of beauty is an experience we share with God, an experience that endears us to him even in moments of struggle or darkness or frustration
Wow...Paddy, beautiful and so true.
I'm getting ready to go to a surprise party for my Father's 80th birthday on Christmas Eve. I rejoice in my Father's life, sense of humour, vigour for life and that we are all here to enjoy each other as a family. My sweet husband is going to go to visit his equally aged Mother for the very same reasons. This will be the first time in over 18 years that we will not be spending Christmas together.
When you are young, like some of the more bellicose posters on this blog, you have generations standing between you and
the end of the line.
As we get older and people who came before us (great grandparents, grand parents, uncles, aunts and even parents) begin to fall off of the end of the conveyor belt of life.... we begin to appreciate the time that we have left and appreciate those who still are on the conveyor belt.
Windbag -
What a coincidence, we usually cut our tree down from the Joyce Kilmer rest stop in the NJ Turnpike!
Off topic - somewhere along the line, we reached the tipping point where there too much rot among the leaders of our society--from Washington (including Sacramento, Springfield, Trenton) to Wall Street to Main Street to Universities--for us to really recover from these crises.
Nice photo, but the red splotches on the bark remind me of bloody wounds.
Looking forward to reading your excerpt more thoroughly, Paddy O., once the kids are in bed.
Speaking of transformation, I sliced some apples that had become too soft for eating and mixed them into sauerkraut, which I layered on top of some pork. Two hours and 350 degrees later, the transformation is complete.
Mmmmmm.
Off to help with the dishes.
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
And indeed there will be time
Gonna paint yer wagon
Gonna paint it fine
Gonna use oil-based paint
'cause the wood is pine.
Ponderooooosa Pine.
Education is an extreme act of self-absorption. And, this is not at all limited to folks who take classes covering theology.
This phenomena may be seem particularly obvious when folks take theology classes because they openly write about themselves.
But, it could be argued that spending years focused on filling your mind with esoteric scientific stuff is even more self-absorbing. It's possible that these folks don't even notice the luxury and self-focus of their learning. And, they may develop an arrogance that convinces them their efforts are self sacrificing, noble, meaningful and purposeful. They have faith too.
I too am a swinger of birch trees. And Man, did that ever piss off Grandma Kickline, who wasn't even my real grandma. <--- 10% of true. The tree was actually a weeping willow, and for a pre-schooler, it was full of bounce.
But this cold snowy weather is perfect for a hot bowl of bean soup.
"Mmmmmm" sounds right, Peter Hoh! Did you make mashed potatoes??
God I hate these fucking cafes.
Sitting here
Couldn't help hear you talking to your best friend
Say you're not satisfied
Things ain't working out with your girlfriend
So your searching for someone new
Someone to hold you tight, someone to treat you right
Though your girlfriend is a friend of mine
Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime
Call me - if you need someone to talk to-a
Call me - satisfaction guaranteed
Call me - if you need someone to talk to-a
Call me - call me!
She wasn't good to ya
Was a prude to ya
Don't like to do the things you like to do
She doesn't do to ya
The things she did to ya
Show you loving like she used to
Well, I been watching you boy
And I've got what you want, got what you need
Though your girlfriend is a friend of mine
Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime
Hello, how ya doing?
No, shes gone
I figured I'd give you a call and see if you were serious
There's this little place that I like to go to
It's kinda dark and quiet and...
Well, I been watching you boy
And I've got what you want, got what you need
And though your girlfriend is a friend of mine
Here's my number and a dime, call me anytime.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kqQrkip4i4
Congratulations, Quayle, and PaddyO.
I hate but want to do my neighbor. He moved in and his parents paid for the loft in full.
He is hot and 25 and is a student.
I read his blog.
For the holidays he will be in Tokyo, Paris and home to Chicago for a couple of days as he seems to be traveling all the time.
How gross is it that a 25 student lives in a million dollar loft and travels around the world?
I am on the condo board and I want to put restrictions on students moving in in the future specifically beause of him.
He's straight but a total bitch. I hate him.
I tried to say hi to him a couple of times just to be a nice neighbor but he wouldn't have any of it.
Now I am especially bitchy to him.
I wish the rare clumbers would shit in his shoes that sit outside his door.
There is another one that recently moved in that is 22. He likes to wear bowties. I look him up on google and his family comes from a Boston Brahim pedigree. The grandfather and the father also wore bowties. His last name has a IV in it=gag. His father also paid for his place. As far as I can tell he doesn't work, just travels.
I am resentful of these punks. I busted my ass and paid for this place on my own and have a huge mortgage payment. The condo fees are close to 1000.00/month so these brats parents are also paying this for the twats.
The 25 year old has a catered dinner for friends every Saturday night.
I, on the other hand, come from Waunakee, Wisconsin-the only one in the world-woo hoo.
Puppy love and the evil cat.
This one is for Blago
Come on
Oh baby dont you wanna go
Come on
Oh baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Sweet home chicago
Come on
Baby dont you wanna go
Hidehey
Baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Oh sweet home chicago
Well, one and one is two
Six and two is eight
Come on baby dont ya make me late
Hidehey
Baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Sweet home chicago
Come on
Baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Sweet home chicago
Six and three is nine
Nine and nine is eighteen
Look there brother baby and see what Ive seen
Hidehey
Baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Sweet home chicago
Oh come on
Baby dont you wanna go
Come on
Baby dont you wanna go
Back to that same old place
Sweet home chicago
http://tinyurl.com/5lue8y
Blago el cagon the Chicago..
you had to there ;)
Eric Clapton & Buddy Guy rendition of "Sweet Home Chicago"
http://tinyurl.com/6lk53o
How a blogger who gets hundreds of comments a day must feel:
Everybody's talking at me
I don't hear a word they're saying
Only the echoes of my mind
People stopping staring
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
I'm going where the sun keeps shining
Thru' the pouring rain
Going where the weather suits my clothes
Banking off of the North East wind
Sailing on a summer breeze
And skipping over the ocean like a stone
Six and three is nine
Nine and nine is eighteen
It would be better If 6 were 9
If the sun refused to shine
I dont mind, I dont mind
(yeah)
If the mountains ah, fell in the sea
Let it be, it aint me.
(well, all right)
Yeah (sing the song brother...)
Now if uh, six uh, huh, turned out to be nine
Oh I dont mind, I dont mind uh ( well all right... )
Fred Neil wrote another great song:
Would you like to know a secret, just between you and me.
I don't know where I'm goin' next, don't know where I'm gonna be.
But that's another side to this life, I've been leadin',
But that's another side to this life.
I think I'll go to Nashville, down to Tennessee,
The ten cent life I've been leading here,
Is gonna be the death of me.
But that's another side to this life, I've been leadin',
But that's another side to this life.
I don't know what I'm doing half the time,
I don't know where I'll go,
I think I'll get me a sailin' boat
and sail the Gulf of Mexico.
But that's another side to this life, I've been leadin',
But that's another side to this life.
My whole world's in an uproar, my whole world's upside down,
Don't know what I'm doin' here, but I'm always hangin' round.
And that's another side to this life, I've been leadin',
And that's another side to this life.
Would you like to know a secret, just between you and me.
Don't know where I'm goin' next, don't know where I'm gonna be.
And that's the other side to this life, I've been leadin',
And that's the other side of this life.
Everybody's Talking at Me.
Me and my Arrow.
George Thorogood - You Talk Too Much
You talk too much, you talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound to drive me away
Now you get on the telephone with your girlfriend,
your conversation baby ain't got no end
Yakety-yakety-yakety-yak all the time,
you keep on talking baby drive me out of my mind
You talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound to drive me away
Well I laid out in the afternoon I start to nappin',
you walk into the room with them jaws a-flappin'
You keep that motormouth moving morning, noon and night,
you keep on talking baby make my head turn white
You talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound just to drive me away
I think you're trying to put me through some kind of test,
I'm begging you baby won't you give it a rest
You talk about people that you don't even know,
keep it up baby I'm gonna pick up and blow
You talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound to drive me away
Don't get me wrong baby I don't mean to complain,
but if you keep on talking you're gonna drive me insane
You keep on talking all around the clock,
I'm begging you baby won't you please stop
You talk too much,
I can't believe the things that you say everyday
If you keep on talking baby,
you know you're bound to drive me away
http://tinyurl.com/5cawnx
Titus--
Maybe the parents of these boys you love to hate have all their money invested with Bernie Madoff. There are quite a few trust fund types in for a rude shock. Will this make you feel better?
Talking Heads - Althouse must be the place..
Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me round
I feel numb - born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
It's ok I know nothing's wrong . . nothing
Hi yo I got plenty of time
Hi yo you got light in your eyes
And you're standing here beside me
I love the passing of time
Never for money
Always for love
Cover up and say goodnight . . . say goodnight
Home - is where I want to be
But I guess I'm already there
I come home - she lifted up her wings
Guess that this must be the place
I can't tell one from another
Did I find you, or you find me?
There was a time Before we were born
If someone asks, this is where I'll be . . . where I'll be
Hi yo We drift in and out
Hi yo sing into my mouth
Out of all those kinds of people
You got a face with a view
I'm just an animal looking for a home
Share the same space for a minute or two
And you love me till my heart stops
Love me till I'm dead
Eyes that light up, eyes look through you
Cover up the blank spots
Hit me on the head Ah ooh
http://tinyurl.com/2rqpgf
Here comes the rain again
Falling on my head like a memory
Falling on my head like a new emotion
I want to walk in the open wind
I want to talk like lovers do
I want to dive into your ocean
Is it raining with you
So baby talk to me
Like lovers do
Walk with me
Like lovers do
Talk to me
Like lovers do
Such a beautiful song, and stunning video.
I think you all listen to way more music than I do.
And congratulations to Quayle and PaddyO.
We dont talk, sometimes we yell
Billy Idol - Rebel Yell
http://tinyurl.com/32eoym
Billy Joel
"Just the way you are"
I dont want clever conversation !?
I dont know Billy - Alhouse may not be for you then ;)
http://tinyurl.com/6m46m7
I think you all listen to way more music than I do.
A safe bet, in my case.
First time I've checked into one of these cafes. Kind of low-key enjoyment. No big fights.
The left-wing blogs do something similar, using music videos. But a nice image from nature is more conversational.
I'm still trying to work. I don't get into a groove until very late at night. Big problem.
The Smiths
"BIGMOUTH STRIKES AGAIN"
Sweetness, sweetness I was only joking
When I said I'd like to smash every tooth
In your head
Oh ... sweetness, sweetness, I was only joking
When I said by rights you should be
Bludgeoned in your bed
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to her roman nose
And her Walkman started to melt
Oh ...
Bigmouth, la ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the Human race
Oh, bigmouth, ha ha ... bigmouth, la
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the Human race
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to a roman nose
And her hearing aid started to melt
Eek !
Oh, bigmouth, la ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
With the Human race
Oh ...
Bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the Human race
And now I know how Joan of Arc felt
Now I know how Joan of Arc felt, oh
As the flames rose to a roman nose
And her hearing aid started to melt
Oh !
Oh, bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the Human race
Oh ...
Bigmouth, oh ... bigmouth, la ...
Bigmouth strikes again
I've got no right to take my place
In the Human race
Oh ...
http://tinyurl.com/64hxqq
Tomorrow night we r having our company party.
I'm taking a second causin my mother "sort of" introduced me to - nudge nudge..
I dont know ...
Barbra Streisand ..
WOMAN IN LOVE
Ooooh Yes I am a woman in love and I'm talking to you,
You know I know how you feel, what a woman can do.
It's a right, I defend, over and over again.
What do I do.
I'm a woman in love
And I'll do anything to get you into my world
And hold you within
It's a right I defend ....
http://tinyurl.com/2go9r6
Birches
WHEN I see birches bend to left and right
Across the line of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-colored
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust—
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
(Now am I free to be poetical?)
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows—
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches;
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
ROBERT FROST
Paddy O said..
Turned in a 30 page paper on beauty
This is the most romantic spanish song ever.
Sandro - Penumbras
the google translation falls short of the poetry. so i wont post it.
take my word for it - the words are beautifull.
http://tinyurl.com/6nyjo6
Here is more Sandro - Proposing
http://tinyurl.com/6yc94f
Caetano Veloso
"Linda"
http://tinyurl.com/6kp4pv
"O Samba de Maria Luiza"
Don Jobim con una angelita desconocida.
http://tinyurl.com/6672dd
Sting and Don Jobim Duet
"How Insensitive"
Jobim's last recording
http://tinyurl.com/6zfbzb
(it's a great record - it has the little angel "O Samba de Maria Luiza")
Morrissey - All You Need Is Althouse (no kidding)
You hiss and groan and you constantly moan
But you don't ever go away
That's because
All you need is me
You roll your eyes up to the skies
Mock horrified
But you're still here
All you need is me
There's so much destruction
All over the world
And all you can do is
Complain about me
You bang your head against the wall
And say you're sick of it all
Yet you remain
'Cause all you need is me
And then you offer your one and only joke
And you ask me what will I be
When I grow up to be a man
Uhm, nothing!
There's a soft voice singing in your head
Who could this be?
I do believe it's me
There's a naked man standing, laughing in your dreams
You know who it is
But you don't like what it means
There's so much destruction
All over the world
And all you can do is
Complain about me
I was a small, fat child in a council house
There was only one thing I ever dreamed about
And Fate has just
Handed it to me - whoopee
You don't like me, but you love me
Either way you're wrong
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
You're gonna miss me when I'm gone
http://tinyurl.com/6mo2vf
Let's face it, all we need is Althouse.
En la cama - is a good Chilean film I've watched recently.
But in a scene that proposes that people who are not settled on a cinematic genre, might have something wrong with them, people who are all over the map when it comes to films they enjoy.
I'm trying to understand how this was meant to enlighten people in the film.
I consume things that are supposedly meant to be foreign to me. if and when I find them enjoyable I keep enjoying them.
And sometimes I do and sometimes I don't.
its like Althouse says
If you want to do something do it
otherwise dont.
Aptly - Steely Dan
Deacon Blues
This is the day
Of the expanding man
That shape is my shade
There where I used to stand
It seems like only yesterday
I gazed through the glass
At ramblers
Wild gamblers
That's all in the past
You call me a fool
You say it's a crazy scheme
This one's for real
I already bought the dream
So useless to ask me why
Throw a kiss and say goodbye
I'll make it this time
I'm ready to cross that fine line
CHORUS:
I'll learn to work the saxophone
I'll play just what I feel
Drink Scotch whisky all night long
And die behind the wheel
They got a name for the winners in the world
I want a name when I lose
They call Alabama the Crimson Tide
Call me Deacon Blues
My back to the wall
A victim of laughing chance
This is for me
The essence of true romance
Sharing the things we know and love
With those of my kind
Libations
Sensations
That stagger the mind
I crawl like a viper
Through these suburban streets
Make love to these women
Languid and bittersweet
I'll rise when the sun goes down
Cover every game in town
A world of my own
I'll make it my home sweet home
CHORUS
This is the night
Of the expanding the man
I take one last drag
As I approach the stand
I cried when I wrote this song
Sue me if I play too long
This brother is free
I'll be what I want to be..
http://tinyurl.com/577ul9
@Darcy (the euchre goddess):
Cry me a future
Where the revelations run amok
Ladies and gentlemen
Lions and tigers come running
Just to steal your luck
.
.
.
Double chins and bowling pins
Unholy presbyterians
Land is full of medicine
I find it when I'm slipping in
...into Michigan
Red Hot Chili Peppers (2006)
For those of you like me watching the Adidas commercial and left wanting.. hanging
it's called Begging..
here is the whole efingthing.
http://tinyurl.com/28pxum
"I wish the rare clumbers would shit in his shoes that sit outside his door."
Alternatively, have you considered baking a coffee cake and leaving it by their door?
You could add a nice neighborly note signed, "love, Tituswhobustedhishumptogethereunlikeyouspoiled littlesexpottrustfundbratswhothinkyou'rebetterthaneverybodyelse." You could draw little hearts and x's and o's to really bring home the point. You get the idea - be creative, give yourself permission to express your deepest most genuine self, that little-boy Titus who loves to be tickled and hugged and told not to worry - the world is a safe place after all.
It's worth a try. Nothing says "I'd really rather fuck you than allow my doggies to take dumps in your shoes but, hey, a fella's gotta do what a fella's gotta do" like a fresh warm loaf.
Of banana bread.
LutherM, Thanks, you beat me to it. I had been thinking about Frost's Birches while watching news reports on the ice storms here in New England, storms that have left a million without power and, I dare say, many birches bent.
I really don't want to fuck them. I more resent them and am jealous.
When I was their age I lived in dumps and slept on a futon on the floor.
They are cute but not real sexual.
Lem, love those Smiths songs.
A futon would be nice.
But jealousy and resentment, I keep reminding myself, are not going to warm up this little fishing shack I live in.
A stove might help though.
The groves were immensely peaceful, lying there in the late-summer sunshine of a cool August day, with the breeze murmuring in the tops of the two double-trunked elm trees that rise above them. They seemed to say, “We have reached a reality beyond all your strivings and sufferings; on your terms it is neither good nor bad; you cannot conceive of it. You cannot help us now, anymore than we can help you. But we are serene and timeless, and you are not. We have--secrets, infinitely sad to your mind, no doubt, but in tune with nature. We have known all the suffering you now know and then some; we are beyond your sympathy, as you are beyond our pity. Look: we give you the breath of peacefulness--we are a part of the long afternoon of life; take the hint, go your way as best you can; do not ask too many questions; it will not be long before you join us.
George Kennan
"Sketches From a Life"
(He is best known by his admirers simply as "X.")
What do I see in the trees?!! A bird? A plane? Not it's
Crouching tufty, hidden dragon: The amazing Kung Fu squirrels !!
Kung-Fu Squirrel in Action
I am really not that resentful or jealous. More curious what that type of life is like.
What happened to Victoria and Ruth Ann Adams?
I have them. Tied up back in the laundry room. Why? Do you have a message you would like me to give them?
Since everyone is posting lyrics just in case you didn't see the video I posted.
This song just makes me happy.
Well its all right, riding around in the breeze
Well its all right, if you live the life you please
Well its all right, doing the best you can
Well its all right, as long as you lend a hand
You can sit around and wait for the phone to ring
Waiting for someone to tell you everything
Sit around and wonder what tomorrow will bring
Maybe a diamond ring
(chorus 2)
Well its all right, even if they say youre wrong
Well its all right, sometimes you gotta be strong
Well its all right, as long as you got somewhere to lay
Well its all right, everyday is judgement day
Maybe somewhere down the road aways
Youll think of me, and wonder where I am these days
Maybe somewhere down the road when somebody plays
Purple haze
(chorus 3)
Well its all right, even when push comes to shove
Well its all right, if you got someone to love
Well its all right, everythingll work out fine
Well its all right, were going to the end of the line
Dont have to be ashamed of the car I drive
Im just glad to be here, happy to be alive
It dont matter if youre by my side
Im satisfied
(chorus 4)
Well its all right, even if youre old and grey
Well its all right, you still got something to say
Well its all right, remember to live and let live
Well its all right, the best you can do is forgive
(chorus 5)
Well its all right, riding around in the breeze
Well its all right, if you live the life you please
Well its all right, even if the sun dont shine
Well its all right, were going to the end of the line
That was cute, chickenlittle! Love the Peppers.
"What happened to Victoria and Ruth Ann Adams?"
Maybe they bought a condo in your building.
For some reason, the bleak beauty of the image makes me think of this song --
I talk to the wind
My words are all carried away
I talk to the wind
The wind does not hear
The wind cannot hear
-- King Crimson
टिप्पणी पोस्ट करा