Oh, dear…
Image above from Suicide Food, a blog showcasing examples of “suicidal” animals (i.e. adverts featuring animals destined to become food – and happy about that fact). Good for a laugh (or a shudder… often both).
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Photo: Gizmodo.com via Boingboing.
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Bon, ça y est…
Conditions actuelles – température: -28,5; refroidissement éolien: -37. Ouf! 
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Sage, ce n’est pas une question de temps, c’est une question de coeur et le coeur n’est pas dans le temps.
-Christian Bobin
Pour Ely, la plus « wild » des « goats »
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A difficult weekend. But why? No outwards change; sunny skies; money in my pocket… But no free time. What moments I steal end up inducing guilt, because I could/should be doing something else more productive. Four projects on the go, running behind on nearly all of them, many personal connections left in the dust too. Bad feelings all around. And yet, and yet… The air is crisp and sweet, the ground firm and crackling, the sun a deep gold, the wind sharp. Autumn is upon us, and I struggle to crawl out from beneath my burdens to enjoy it; even watching it from afar, windows between us, is a small joy. It is not unrelenting; there are always moments of life breathed into me. Bouncing around town from one small ethnic shop to another – Polish, German, Italian; walking hand in hand over frosty evening ground, just as the stars being poking through the darkness above; eating a home-cooked meal whilst camped out on the living room floor, in a pile of blankets; these things matter. And for all the uncertainty that’s out there, there is still something to lean on, something to count on, even if its lifespan is yet unknown.
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Good morning, lethargy. Litchi liqueur. Monstrous little beasties. You cannot take your pretty hands off me. Bubbly, bubbly Eno. Fuzzy and blue (and orange). Monkey in a bird cage. Subdued grey, punctuated by bursts of colour. Mr. Frosticles. Counterfeit marriage? I’m a winner!
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La peur des piqûres, ça ne peut pas se guérir par l’acupuncture. (Pierre Legaré)
Un jour, deux bras, deux vaccins: une cynique épuisée avec un corps endolori. Aïe!
Photo: kaboodle.com
Comments rss TrackbackOver the past several days, this blog has seen a deluge of rude, false, or otherwise inappropriate comments.
I believe fervently in freedom of expression, which of course includes the freedom to criticize, and the freedom to disagree. While negative comments may be unpleasant, I’m generally prepared to accept them, as they can sometimes serve to illustrate misunderstandings, or offer up opportunities for personal development or improvement. Further, I’ve always believed that a truly vile comment says more about the commenter than the person or article being commented on. And besides, I have no desire nor intention to censor people’s thoughts or opinions. We each have a right to our opinions, diverse as they may be.
However, when a comment is patently false, bordering on defamation, or consists simply of name-calling and crass insults, that is a breach of Internet etiquette, and I feel justified in removing those comments. Because, while I support freedom of speech, I also have the right to operate my blog in the style and manner of my choosing. To be blunt: this is my space. As I said, we each have a right to our opinion – and that includes my right not to be insulted on my own blog.
Going forward, rather than closing the comments section altogether, I’ve simply made some changes to the comment process. Comments will now be held in moderation, only to be published upon moderator approval.
I truly wish I didn’t have to make these changes to this blog, and I apologise to those who may feel offended by my actions. But for now, I feel it’s necessary.
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Les premières heures de l’amour sont comme les premiers pas sur la neige… (Henri de Régnier)
Ca y est: après le plus bref des automnes, l’hiver s’annonce.
Hier après-midi, quelques flocons dérisoires ont tombées, timidement mélangés avec des gouttes de pluie. Aujourd’hui, plus courageuses, les flocons sont plus grandes, plus confiantes; elles tombent doucement mais avec vigueur. Le gazon est un tapis blanc; les feuilles jaunes des arbres sont décoré de blanc. Un petit rayon de soleil sort des nuages, et fend la brume: tout d’un coup le paysage est baigné d’une lumière claire et chaude. Des minuscules cristaux de glace flottent partout; l’air scintille.
Je suis rentrée recouvert de neige, mes vêtements tâchés de blanc, mes cheveux légèrement mouillés. Je regarde par la fenêtre: tout est blanc, calme, silent. Soudain, je tombe amoureuse de ma ville encore une fois. Elle est un peu banale, une ville confortable et assez sympa mais pas très bien défini: pas trop grande, pas trop petite, elle semble vouloir être un village et une métropole cosmopolite à la fois. Mais vue dans cette lumière blanche, perdue dans ce tourbillon de neige, elle est belle, et élégante, et magique.
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Once upon a time, on a morning like this, I would have written that I had awoken to a breeze coming in from the window. The scent of last night’s rain still lingers on the air, its cooler temperature a signal that the seasons have begun that almost imperceptible shift from summer to fall.
I would have written that my love is asleep near me, his body tangled in the covers, his head burrowed under the pile of pillows. The rise and fall of his chest adjusts to the rhythm of the birds singing outside. After an evening of shopping, cooking, talking, and movie-watching, he is sleeping in. I, on the other hand, eternally unable to stay in bed for hours, am up after a mere few hours of sleep. I’m tired, but there’s still so much to do: listen to the wind in the trees; watch the songbirds pick at the greenery as it turns golden; steal crabapples from the neighbour’s tree across the back lane.
I would have written that we have the whole weekend ahead of us; so much time for laughing, walking, debating, loving. Breakfast in bed, camping out, discovering curiosities in the city, or just doing mundane everyday tasks that somehow became enjoyable when done together. Weekends here remain just that, a collection of things: quiet mornings, late nights, Subway before 11, layer upon layer of blankets and sleeping bags, Delicje, a walk in a park or down city streets, making bruschetta in the apartment kitchen, grocery shopping in small ethnic shops and oversized warehouses, Grand Prix, movies, music, “mushroom mushroom“, hot showers, the bed…
Once upon a time, I would have written all of those things. Now, today, on this perfect end-of-summer morning, with the smell of rain in the air and the remnants of sleep all around me, which words should I use?
Comments rss TrackbackWhen an illness knocks you on your ass, you should stay down and relax for a while before trying to get back up. (Candea Core-Starke)
Comments rss TrackbackFinally an American politician who isn’t afraid to stand up to the crazies on the right. My heart warmed at the sight of this little video.
Protester: Why do you continue to support a Nazi policy, as Obama has expressly supported this policy, why are you supporting it?
Rep. Barney Frank: When you ask me that question, I am going to revert to my ethnic heritage, and answer your question with a question. On what planet do you spend most of your time? (…) You want me to answer the question? As you stand there with a picture of the President defaced to look like Hitler, and compare the effort to increase health care to the Nazis, my answer to you is, as I said before, it is a tribute to the First Amendment that this kind of vile, contemptible nonsense is so freely propagated. Ma’am, trying to have a conversation with you would be like trying to argue with a dining room table – I have no interest in doing it.
So much misinformation has been spewed about the Democrats’ health care reform bill that many Americans now seem to think the government is quite literally out to get them – as in, agents will sneak into your house at night and indoctrinate your children and kill grandpa in his sleep before stealing all your money from under the mattresses. Which is why the town hall meetings being held across the US have become quite frightening: many people literally believe they’re fighting for their lives. Machine guns brought to an ‘open dialogue’ with the president? Death panels choosing whose grandparents to murder? Government-financed health care equated to Nazism? Photographs of Obama doctored to look like Hitler? The worst part is, this is not a mere fringe element occupying the far ends of the political spectrum: this attitude is actually becoming mainstream.
While so many bright minds have come from the United States, nowadays I fear that entire country’s gone batshit insane. And I live right next door.
Assault weapons at town hall meetings
Woman shouts “Heil Hitler” at Jew praising Israel’s health care system
Obamacare’s home intrusion and indoctrination family services
Obama’s ‘death panels’ would kill disabled children
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Photo: xkcd.com
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From the Associated Press:
An employee at the Gem Stop Chevron in La Grande got the surprise of her life when she opened up the automatic teller machine and found a mouse inside a nest lined with $20 bills. The ATM continued to work just fine, despite the mouse discovered on Thursday.
The mouse had chewed up two bills and damaged another 14 to make his nest, but the bank replaced all the money that wasn’t extensively damaged.
The mouse also got a reprieve: He was evicted from his nest but set free outside.
The store’s employees are still mystified about how the mouse got inside the ATM.
Apparently this little creature has expensive taste. Or simply instinctively knew the true worth of those US treasury bills during this economic crisis… 
Original article here.
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