Green Ideas: GON OUT. BAKSON. BISY BAKSON

26 May 2007

GON OUT. BAKSON. BISY BAKSON

The Botogols are away. If it's Monday it's Gloucestershire, if it's Friday then it's Berlin.

Germany /-/ Gloucestershire
Berliners /-/ Bucolics
Jungen /-/ Yuppies
Kurfürstendamm /-/ Cotswold Way
Unter den Linden /-/ Under the trees

They couldn't be more different, could they? One known world-wide as an oasis of ostentatious, decadent capitalist wealth, encircled by a hostile proletariat, for all the world as if there were a wall between them; the other the capital city of Germany.

I don't know if I'll have the time to blog.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...: Ha! I must tell the others.; 28 May 2007, 19:50:00
surly girl said...: course you will.; 30 May 2007, 10:13:00
Mrs Bridger said...: Lots of walls in lots of cities, not all of them are in brick :-)

Hope you enjoyed the kuchen and kafe drinken...; 30 May 2007, 14:04:00

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About blogging

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a pseudonymous blog, and he will tell you the truth
Oscar Wilde

The man who writes about himself, and his own time, is the only man who writes about all people, and all time.
George Bernard Shaw

He picked up his pen half-heartedly, wondering whether he could find something more to write in the blog
George Orwell

A person who publishes a blog wilfilly appears before the populace with his pants down..if it is a good blog nothing can hurt him. If it is a bad blog, nothing can help him
Edna St Vincent Millay

I ceased in the year 1764 to believe that one can convince one’s opponents with arguments in my blog. It is not to do that, therefore, that I have taken up my pen, but merely so as to annoy them, and to bestow strength and courage on those on our own side, and to make it known to the others that they have not convinced us
Georg Christoph Lichtenburg

I am large. I contain multitudes
Walt Whitman

About Writing

I don't know where my ideas come from, but I do know where they come to they come to my desk; and if I'm not sitting at my desk, well then they go away again
Philip Pullman

Words don’t deserve that kind of malarkey. They’re innocent, neutral, precise, standing for this, describing that, meaning the other, so if you look after them you can build bridges across incomprehension and chaos. But when they get their corners knocked off, they’re no good any more, and Brodie knocks corners off without knowing he’s doing it. So everything he writes is jerry-built. It’s rubbish. An intelligent child could push it over. I don’t think writers are sacred, but words are. They deserve respect. If you get the right ones in the right order, you can nudge the world a little or make a poem which children will speak for you when you’re dead.
Tom Stoppard 'The Real Thing'

About Life

One has to proceed as unobtrusively as possible when questioning a friend, because truth and secrets are cranes, dazzling in size yet notoriously shy and wary; if one makes too much noise, they disappear into the sky, never to be seen again
Marisha Pessl 'Special Topics in Calamity Physics'

Nothing is so insufferable to man as to be completely at rest, without passions, without business, without diversion, without study. He then feels his nothingness, his forlornness, his insufficiency, his dependence, his weakness, his emptiness. There will immediately arise from the depth of his heart weariness, gloom, sadness, fretfulness, vexation, despair.
Blaise Pascal Pensees #131

....drinking, talking, flirting, exclaiming, declaiming, carrying on, leaping from one story to the next in breathtaking acts of barely managed continuity. The balance! The dexterity! The English, they sure can talk
Grant McCracken

26 May 2007

GON OUT. BAKSON. BISY BAKSON

3 comments:

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