Pavlos

A famous incident from the BBC's Newsnight: (This BBCode requires its accompanying plugin to work properly.)

Happy Birthday, Jon. A YouTube search yielded this: (This BBCode requires its accompanying plugin to work properly.)

(This BBCode requires its accompanying plugin to work properly.) Some summer warmth and German nationalism for the winter months. And a lesson on the importance of art, too.

Happy Belated, Jae!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Belated, Astor. Such an hero as yourself deserves an heroic symphony. Oh, and this:

Thanks to stoffe and everyone who helped to fix this.

As we say in England: 'But what will the neighbours think?'

Happy Birthday, I got you this statue of the two great luminaries of early 19th century German literature:

There's no evidence for that. Call me a septic but I'm one of those people who need sediments for these sorts of things. Happy Birthday!

No no no! You must experience it in its fully orchestrated glory for the true effect.

Hey! The public nudity of Lady Godgifu is a matter of no small insignificance to the folk of England. We don't take too kindly to that sort of mockery. It grieves me to say it, coming from the other side of the Pennines as I do, but the East Midlands and Yorkshire have some of the best beer on tap. Of the breweries that are (probably) large enough to export, but whose beer you may not have tried, Castle Rock springs to mind. Especially their 'Screech Owl' IPA: I'm no great shakes when it comes to London, although I'm actually going down there myself for a few weeks in September, but if you can you may want to set aside some time to visit the 'provinces', Oxford and Cambridge have already been mentioned, but York and Durham on the east coast and Liverpool on the west are all well worth a visit, and Edinburgh too (you may catch some of the festival there, as well). There should be relatively fast rail links to all of those (though Durham may require a change at York). Then again, I suppose you're unlikely to exhaust London in the space of a month, so exploring other parts of the country may be spreading yourself too thinly.

Burning?

A thought is with me sometimes, and I say, 'Should earth by inward throes be wrenched throughout, Or fire be sent from far to wither all Her pleasant habitations, and dry up Old Ocean in his bed left singed and bare, Yet would the living Presence still subsist Victorious; and composure would ensue, And kindlings like the morning; presage sure, Though slow, perhaps, of a returning day.' But all the meditations of mankind, Yea, all the adamantine holds of truth, By reason built, or passion, which itself Is highest reason in a soul sublime; The consecrated works of Bard and Sage, Sensuous or intellectual, wrought by men, Twin labourers and heirs of the same hopes, Where would they be? Oh! why hath not the mind Some element to stamp her image on In nature somewhat nearer to her own? Why, gifted with such powers to send abroad Her spirit, must it lodge in shrines so frail? - Wordsworth, The Prelude V: 'Books' I don't know if the physical book -- certainly not the modern mass-produced paperback, which falls apart of its own accord after a few decades -- stands very much more chance of surviving disaster or the ravages of time than an ebook.

I have to say, I'm not much of a fan of being forced into a codified style of annotation, delineated for me by a programmer. Even simple annotations (arrows, for example) become difficult on my Kindle: And I can't even imagine being able to keep track of this number of electronic notes, which are difficult enough to follow in physical form:

Well, I think in a very real sense there is a tone of sadness to it on at least three levels. A certain depression or tragedy that I cannot quite put my finger on. The entire experience of looking, of gazing upon the work was a transformative one: I felt I had been on a journey from ignorance to something else, really. Not sure what. Perhaps potatoes, perhaps carrots, but in either case I felt the apple was reaching out for something beyond itself.

I'm probably going to see this on Wednesday. Love Magritte.

Can we have our tea back?

I suppose it looks like me in that it has eyes and a nose... and a mouth, so I feel Google has been successful.

I may be slightly drunk as I write this (note to self: don't mix wine and beer), but thank you very much.

Something almost like a chicken laid a chicken egg, out of which hatched a chicken.

Charlemagne came from what is now Belgium. Just thought I'd say...

Well, just for you, then.