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Wilfrid
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March 16th, 2009, 2:54 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: mackbarJust returned to my room - really excellent visit - prob. will go back tomorrow. Saw the scarbs, the mummified cats (and falcons, and small alligators, and a baboon) and so many other things. I have some good pictures, but I need a USB cable.One things that made me laugh - and this is an exhibit design problem in many museums - when you go though the Celtic, Viking, Medieval Europe rooms from 800 - 1400, the displays are very coherent and more or less chronological. Then you exit into a small display room packed with **19th century decorative ware**. So it is a visual shock to go from swords, shields, and big bronze and silver goblets to oh-so-delicate (Limogues?) tea sets in pretty pastels. Once you pass through that room, you are back in Europe 1500-1800 and there are some great guns at the back of the gallery (I have some photos for HOOK of some very ornate, but lethal muskets from the 1500s.)But your warrior train of thought has been interrupted by your brief sojourn in the Dutchess' parlor.I say, if you were at the British Museum, you could have popped in to RADA too. It's very close by, what?
I learned two things at drama school. First, that I couldn't act; second, that it didn't matter.
 
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March 16th, 2009, 3:15 pm

Tomorrow too, perhaps - I wonder if there is a cafe there - maybe they even have T&S!A word of clarfication on my intentions in London may be in order. I know that there is a tradition of voracious American heiresses who come over here, seeking land and title and making mincemeat out of the down-at-heels aristocracy. Can be a symbiotic relationship too, of course, the stuff of Henry James' novels...But that is not my story. I just want to buy the land, without a man attached to it, and I don't crave titles at all.I will simply set up shop, throw great parties, patronize the arts and subway musicians, and soon everyone will know me as the Marchioness of Ironmaiden. (As Hamilton already does).
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Traden4Alpha
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March 16th, 2009, 6:12 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: mackbarBut that is not my story. I just want to buy the land, without a man attached to it, and I don't crave titles at all.I will simply set up shop, throw great parties, patronize the arts and subway musicians, and soon everyone will know me as the Marchioness of Ironmaiden. (As Hamilton already does).Might even build a small replica of a medieval convent on the property, in tribute to the decade since the dot-com bust.I believe I have found a manor fit for our Marchioness. The money will even go to help injured jockeys.
 
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Cuchulainn
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March 16th, 2009, 6:38 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: Traden4AlphaQuoteOriginally posted by: mackbarBut that is not my story. I just want to buy the land, without a man attached to it, and I don't crave titles at all.I will simply set up shop, throw great parties, patronize the arts and subway musicians, and soon everyone will know me as the Marchioness of Ironmaiden. (As Hamilton already does).Might even build a small replica of a medieval convent on the property, in tribute to the decade since the dot-com bust.I believe I have found a manor fit for our Marchioness. The money will even go to help injured jockeys.QuoteSince news of the impending sale broke this week, Tina has been contacted by media from as far afield as New Zealand seeking her thoughts. hmm, mackbar, fancy TJ as neighbour, what?
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March 16th, 2009, 8:06 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: Traden4AlphaQuoteOriginally posted by: mackbarBut that is not my story. I just want to buy the land, without a man attached to it, and I don't crave titles at all.I will simply set up shop, throw great parties, patronize the arts and subway musicians, and soon everyone will know me as the Marchioness of Ironmaiden. (As Hamilton already does).Might even build a small replica of a medieval convent on the property, in tribute to the decade since the dot-com bust.I believe I have found a manor fit for our Marchioness. The money will even go to help injured jockeys.That is simply perfection. I would repair roads and thatched rooves and maintain all the local charm - adding only enterprises, such as riding academies and boutique spa facilities, that fit the character of the region. Cuch: TJ can operate a radio station on the premises, if he likes...
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March 16th, 2009, 9:10 pm

Spring Strainsby: William Carlos Williams (1883-1963)N a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds crowded erect with desire against the sky-- tense blue-grey twigs slenderly anchoring them down, drawing them in-- two blue-grey birds chasing a third struggle in circles, angles, swift convergings to a point that bursts instantly! Vibrant bowing limbs pull downward, sucking the sky that bulges from behind, plastering itself against them in packed rifts, rock blue and dirty orange! But-- (Hold hard, rigid jointed trees!) the blinding and red-edged sun-blur-- creeping energy, concentrated counterforce--welds sky, buds, trees, rivets them in one puckering hold! Sticks through! Pulls the whole counter-pulling mass upward, to the right, locks even the opaque, not yet defined ground in a terrific drag that is loosening the very tap-roots! On a tissue-thin monotone of blue-grey buds two blue-grey birds, chasing a third, at full cry! Now they are flung outward and up--disappearing suddenly!
 
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March 16th, 2009, 9:18 pm

The Sleeper in the ValleyIt is a green hollow where a stream gurgles,Crazily catching silver rags of itself on the grasses;Where the sun shines from the proud mountain:It is a little valley bubbling over with light. A young soldier, open-mouthed, bare-headed,With the nape of his neck bathed in cool blue cresses,Sleeps; he is stretched out on the grass, under the sky,Pale on his green bed where the light falls like rain. His feet in the yellow flags, he lies sleeping. Smiling asA sick child might smile, he is having a nap:Cradle him warmly, Nature: he is cold. No odour makes his nostrils quiver;He sleeps in the sun, his hand on his breastAt peace. There are two red holes in his right side. - Arthur RimbaudThis goes along with rmax' post The Naming of Parts
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March 17th, 2009, 9:44 am

A pair by Brendan BehanI REMEMBER IN SEPTEMBER I remember in September, When the final stumps were drawn, And the shouts of crowds now silent And the boys to tea were gone. Let us, oh Lord above us, Still remember simple things, When all are dead who love us, Oh the Captains and the Kings, When all are dead who love us, Oh the Captains and the Kings. Far away in dear old Cyprus, Or in Kenya’s dusty land, Where all bear the white man’s burden In many a strange land. As we look across our shoulder In West Belfast the school bell rings, And we sigh for dear old England, And the Captains and the Kings. I wandered in a nightmare All around Great Windsor Park, And what did you think I found there As I stumbled in the dark? It was an apple half-bitten, And sweetest of all things, Five baby teeth had written Of the Captains and the Kings. OPEN THE WINDOW SOFTLY Open the door softly, Shut it-keep out the draught, For years and years, I’ve shed millions of tears, And never but once have I laughed. It was the time the holy picture fell, And knocked me old Granny cold, While she knitted and sang an old Irish song, It was by traitors poor old Ulster was sold. So open the window softly, For Jaysus’ sake, hang an old latch, Come in and lie down, and afterwards You can ask me what’s the catch. Before these foreign-born bastards, dear, See you don’t let yourself down, We’ll be the Lion and Unicorn, My Rose unto your Crown.
 
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Cuchulainn
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March 17th, 2009, 9:57 am

Dominic sings The context is from the play the Hostage, in which yours truly played the lead role long ago.
Last edited by Cuchulainn on March 16th, 2009, 11:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Every Time We Teach a Child Something, We Keep Him from Inventing It Himself
Jean Piaget
 
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rmax
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March 18th, 2009, 11:43 am

Bun-bu bun-bu At night the mosquitos give little sleep
 
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March 18th, 2009, 11:55 am

Moon shines down on silver pondA frog croaks softlyI am here, yet rest silent.- mackbar, 1980
 
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rmax
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March 19th, 2009, 10:06 am

Cheating a bit as I don't think the words are as powerful as the music, but anyway...Gesang der Älteren PilgerBeglückt darf nun dich, o Heimat, ich schauen,und grüßen froh deine lieblichen Auen;nun lass' ich ruhn den Wanderstab,weil Gott getreu ich gepilgert hab'.Durch Sühn' und Buß' hab' ich versöhntden Herren, dem mein Herze frönt,der meine Reu' mit Segen krönt,den Herren, dem mein Lied ertönt.den Herren, dem mein Lied ertönt.Der Gnade Heil ist dem Büßer beschieden,er geht einst ein in der Seligen Frieden!Vor Höll' und Tod ist ihm nicht bang,drum preis' ich Gott mein Lebelang.Halleluja Halleluja in Ewigkeit, in Ewigkeit!TranslationPilgrim's ChorusOnce more with joy O my home I may meetOnce more ye fair, flowr'y meadows I greetMy Pilgrim's staff henceforth may restSince Heaven's sweet peace is within my breast.The sinner's 'plaint on high was heardOn high was heard and answered by the LordThe tears I laid before His shrineAre turned to hope and joy divine.O Lord eternal praise be Thine!The blessed source of Thy mercy overflowingOn souls repetant seek Ye, all-knowingOf hell and death, I have no fearFor thou my Lord are ever nearAlleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! For evermore
 
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exneratunrisk
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March 20th, 2009, 8:34 am

Ungleiche Brueder - Gerhard RuehmLautgedicht - Gerhard Ruehm
 
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March 20th, 2009, 5:10 pm

The Rubaiyat of Omar KhayyamHere with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and ThouBeside me singing in the Wilderness--And Wilderness is Paradise enow."How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"--think some:Others--"How blest the Paradise to come!"Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;Oh, the brave music of a distant Drum!
 
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March 20th, 2009, 5:42 pm

PS I realize that the opinion on Omar K is divided.Some people will say, "Oh, what beautiful love poetry."The more cynical types will say, "Eh, he really laid it on with a trowel, didn't he?"Personally, I like to lay it on with a backhoe sometimes.Then I pack it down nice and tight. It's a shame when the mud that I am in cannot support me.
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