Royo En El CampoRoyo El PaseoRoyo Bajando Hacia El MarNeiman Green Table
So do I,’ said Gandalf, ‘and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given, us. And already, Frodo, our time is beginning to look black. The Enemy is fast becoming very strong. His plans are far from ripe, I think, but they are ripening. We shall be hard put to it. We should be very hard put to it, even if it were not for this dreadful chance.‘The shadows under his great Shadow, his most terrible servants. Long ago. It is many a year since the Nine walked abroad. Yet who knows? As the Shadow grows once more, they too may walk again. But come! We will not speak of such things even in the morning of the Shire.Enemy still lacks one thing to give him strength and knowledge to beat down all resistance, break the last defences, and cover all the lands in a second darkness. He lacks the One Ring.‘The Three, fairest of all, the Elf-lords hid from him, and his hand never touched them or sullied them. Seven the Dwarf-kings possessed, but three he has recovered, and the others the dragons have consumed. Nine he gave to Mortal Men, proud and great, and so ensnared them. Long ago they fell under the dominion of the One, and they became Ringwraiths,
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Neiman Sudden Death
Neiman Sudden DeathNeiman Stretch StampedeNeiman Statue of LibertyNeiman Stan Smith
Middle-earth. In that conflict both sides would have held hobbits in hatred and contempt: they would not long have survived even as slaves.Other arrangements could be devised according to the tastes or views of those who like allegory or topical reference. But I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the were necessarily the most powerful influences. One has indeed personally to come under the shadow of war to feel fully its oppression; but as the years go by it seems now often forgotten that to be caught in youth by 1914 was no less hideous an experience author.An author cannot of course remain wholly unaffected by his experience, but the ways in which a story-germ uses the soil of experience are extremely complex, and attempts to define the process are at best guesses from evidence that is inadequate and ambiguous. It is also false, though naturally, when the lives of an author and critic have overlapped, to suppose that the movements of thought or the events of times common to both
Middle-earth. In that conflict both sides would have held hobbits in hatred and contempt: they would not long have survived even as slaves.Other arrangements could be devised according to the tastes or views of those who like allegory or topical reference. But I cordially dislike allegory in all its manifestations, and always have done so since I grew old and wary enough to detect its presence. I much prefer history, true or feigned, with its varied applicability to the thought and experience of readers. I think that many confuse 'applicability' with 'allegory'; but the one resides in the freedom of the reader, and the other in the purposed domination of the were necessarily the most powerful influences. One has indeed personally to come under the shadow of war to feel fully its oppression; but as the years go by it seems now often forgotten that to be caught in youth by 1914 was no less hideous an experience author.An author cannot of course remain wholly unaffected by his experience, but the ways in which a story-germ uses the soil of experience are extremely complex, and attempts to define the process are at best guesses from evidence that is inadequate and ambiguous. It is also false, though naturally, when the lives of an author and critic have overlapped, to suppose that the movements of thought or the events of times common to both
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Lawrence Alma-Tadema A Silent Greeting
Lawrence Alma-Tadema A Silent GreetingLawrence Alma-Tadema A Sculptor's Model detailLawrence Alma-Tadema A greek womanLawrence Alma-Tadema A Female Figure Resting
When Dolohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle, Voldemort looked up.
"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov.
Voldemort's expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly he drew the Elder Wand between his long fingers.
"My Lord ---"
Bellatrix had spoken: She sat closest to Voldemort, disheveled, her face a little bloody but otherwise unharmed. Nobody spoke. They seemed as scared as Harry, whose heart was now throwing itself against his ribs as though determined to escape the body he was about to cast aside. His hands were sweating as he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it beneath his robes, with his wand. He did not want to be tempted to fight.
Voldemort raised his hand to silence her, and she did not speak another word, but eyed him in worshipful fascination.
"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected him to come."
When Dolohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle, Voldemort looked up.
"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov.
Voldemort's expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly he drew the Elder Wand between his long fingers.
"My Lord ---"
Bellatrix had spoken: She sat closest to Voldemort, disheveled, her face a little bloody but otherwise unharmed. Nobody spoke. They seemed as scared as Harry, whose heart was now throwing itself against his ribs as though determined to escape the body he was about to cast aside. His hands were sweating as he pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it beneath his robes, with his wand. He did not want to be tempted to fight.
Voldemort raised his hand to silence her, and she did not speak another word, but eyed him in worshipful fascination.
"I thought he would come," said Voldemort in his high, clear voice, his eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected him to come."
Williams A Life of Delusion
Williams A Life of DelusionCezanne Village Road AuversCezanne The Mount Sainte-VictoireCezanne The Mount of St.Victoria
The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry's mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying--And then a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the
and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred's body, shielding it from further harrm, and when Harry shouted "Percy, come on, we've got to move!" he shook his head.
school and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.
"Get down!" Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione
The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? Harry's mind was in free fall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Fred Weasley could not be dead, the evidence of all his senses must be lying--And then a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the
and pulled her to the floor, but Percy lay across Fred's body, shielding it from further harrm, and when Harry shouted "Percy, come on, we've got to move!" he shook his head.
school and curses flew in at them from the darkness, hitting the wall behind their heads.
"Get down!" Harry shouted, as more curses flew through the night: He and Ron had both grabbed Hermione
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Romanello Island Time with Window
Romanello Island Time with WindowRomanello In Full BloomRomanello How 'bout UsRomanello Here We Are
dragged Goyle onto their broom and rose, rolling and pitching, into the air once more as Malfoy clambered up behind Harry.
"What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!" screamed Malfoy, but Harry made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it dropped toward the maw of a yawning serpent, and then he had it, caught it around his wrist – Harry swerved again as the serpent lunged at him; he soared upward
"The door, get to the door, the door!" screamed Malfoy in Harry's ear, and Harry sped up, following Ron, Hermione, and Goyle through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace, and an old, discolored tiara –
dragged Goyle onto their broom and rose, rolling and pitching, into the air once more as Malfoy clambered up behind Harry.
"What are you doing, what are you doing, the door's that way!" screamed Malfoy, but Harry made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it dropped toward the maw of a yawning serpent, and then he had it, caught it around his wrist – Harry swerved again as the serpent lunged at him; he soared upward
"The door, get to the door, the door!" screamed Malfoy in Harry's ear, and Harry sped up, following Ron, Hermione, and Goyle through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around them the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace, and an old, discolored tiara –
Monday, November 24, 2008
Kahlo Frida and Stalin
Kahlo Frida and StalinKahlo Frida and Diego RiveraKahlo Four Inhabitants of MexicoKahlo Flower of Life
At least we can't wear it this time, that'd look a bit weird hanging around our necks," said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Hermione looked across the lake to the far bank where the dragon was still drinking.
"What'll happen to it, do you think?" she asked, "Will it be alright?"
"You sound like Hagrid," said Ron, "It's a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself. It's us we need to worry about."
to stop. Harry's ribs ached, he felt lightheaded with hunger, but he lay back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until his throat was raw. "What are we going to do, though?" said Hermione finally, hiccuping
"What do you mean?"
"Well I don't know how to break this to you," said Ron, "but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts."
All three of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult
At least we can't wear it this time, that'd look a bit weird hanging around our necks," said Ron, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
Hermione looked across the lake to the far bank where the dragon was still drinking.
"What'll happen to it, do you think?" she asked, "Will it be alright?"
"You sound like Hagrid," said Ron, "It's a dragon, Hermione, it can look after itself. It's us we need to worry about."
to stop. Harry's ribs ached, he felt lightheaded with hunger, but he lay back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until his throat was raw. "What are we going to do, though?" said Hermione finally, hiccuping
"What do you mean?"
"Well I don't know how to break this to you," said Ron, "but I think they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts."
All three of them started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Homer Boys and Kitten
Homer Boys and KittenHomer Beach SceneHomer An Adirondack LakeHomer A Quiet Pool on a Sunny Day
graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of
who was there, then cried aloud, "It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"
Hermione shrieked.
"Wha --? Tonks -- Tonks has had the baby?"
"Yes, yes, she's had the baby!" shouted Lupin. All around the table came cries of delight,
sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed, "Congratulations!" and Ron said,
"Blimey, a baby!" as if he had never heard of such a thing before.
. He
strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place
might never have happened.
"You'll be godfather?" he said as he released Harry.
"M-me?" stammered Harry.
"You, yes, of course -- Dora quite agrees, no one better --"
"I -- yeah -- blimey --"
graying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of
who was there, then cried aloud, "It's a boy! We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"
Hermione shrieked.
"Wha --? Tonks -- Tonks has had the baby?"
"Yes, yes, she's had the baby!" shouted Lupin. All around the table came cries of delight,
sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed, "Congratulations!" and Ron said,
"Blimey, a baby!" as if he had never heard of such a thing before.
. He
strode around the table and hugged Harry; the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place
might never have happened.
"You'll be godfather?" he said as he released Harry.
"M-me?" stammered Harry.
"You, yes, of course -- Dora quite agrees, no one better --"
"I -- yeah -- blimey --"
Friday, November 21, 2008
Banks The Village Girl
Banks The Village GirlLippi The Adoration with the Infant StFantin-Latour White CarnationsBanks Song of Summer
I was about to call him!" said Lucius, and his hand actually closed upon Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella. Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority –"
"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his – of –" She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Harry could not see. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from
"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"
"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy –"
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold –"
I was about to call him!" said Lucius, and his hand actually closed upon Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella. Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority –"
"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his – of –" She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Harry could not see. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from
"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"
"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy –"
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold –"
Reni Atalanta and Hippomenes
Reni Atalanta and HippomenesReni St Joseph with the infant JesusReni The Boy BacchusGjertson Morning on the Zumbro
know it's Lupin!"
"Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?"
A mixture of gratitude and shame welled up in Harry. Had Lupin forgiven him, then, for the terrible things he had said when they had last met? "And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?"
"I do," said Lupin firmly. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. ‘The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."
know it's Lupin!"
"Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you've appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?"
A mixture of gratitude and shame welled up in Harry. Had Lupin forgiven him, then, for the terrible things he had said when they had last met? "And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?"
"I do," said Lupin firmly. "There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. ‘The Boy Who Lived' remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting."
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Rothko Untitled 1969
Rothko Untitled 1969Rothko Untitled 1968 Blue On Blue GroundRothko Untitled 1963Rothko Untitled 1961
had been torn from him. He knew exactly what Hermione would say if he expressed any of this: The wand is only as good as the wizard. But she was wrong, his case was different. She had not felt the wand spin like the needle of a compass and shoot golden flames at his enemy. He had lost the protection of the twin cores, and only now that it was gone did he realize how much he had been counting on it.
And his fury at Dumbledore broke over him now like lava, scorching him inside, wiping out every other feeling. Out of sheer desperation they had
He pulled the pieces of the broken wand out of his pocket and, without looking at them, tucked them away in Hagrid's pouch around his neck. The pouch was now too full of broken and useless objects to take any more. Harry's hand brushed the old Snitch through the mokeskin and for a moment he had to fight the temptation to pull it out and throw it away. Impenetrable, unhelpful, useless, like everything else Dumbledore had left behind ---
had been torn from him. He knew exactly what Hermione would say if he expressed any of this: The wand is only as good as the wizard. But she was wrong, his case was different. She had not felt the wand spin like the needle of a compass and shoot golden flames at his enemy. He had lost the protection of the twin cores, and only now that it was gone did he realize how much he had been counting on it.
And his fury at Dumbledore broke over him now like lava, scorching him inside, wiping out every other feeling. Out of sheer desperation they had
He pulled the pieces of the broken wand out of his pocket and, without looking at them, tucked them away in Hagrid's pouch around his neck. The pouch was now too full of broken and useless objects to take any more. Harry's hand brushed the old Snitch through the mokeskin and for a moment he had to fight the temptation to pull it out and throw it away. Impenetrable, unhelpful, useless, like everything else Dumbledore had left behind ---
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Craig Mount Ventoux
Craig Mount VentouxCraig Les Olives en Printemps (The Olives in Spring)Craig Lemon Tree VeronaCraig Lavender Fields
What we really wanted to know, Professor Black, is whether anyone else has, um, taken out the sword at all? Maybe it's been taken away for cleaning—or something!"
Phineas Nigellus paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.
"Don't call Hermione simple," said Harry. "I grow weary of contradiction," said Phineas Nigellus. "perhaps it is time for me to return to the headmaster's office.?"
"Muggle-born," he said, "Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblin's silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it."
What we really wanted to know, Professor Black, is whether anyone else has, um, taken out the sword at all? Maybe it's been taken away for cleaning—or something!"
Phineas Nigellus paused again in his struggles to free his eyes and sniggered.
"Don't call Hermione simple," said Harry. "I grow weary of contradiction," said Phineas Nigellus. "perhaps it is time for me to return to the headmaster's office.?"
"Muggle-born," he said, "Goblin-made armor does not require cleaning, simple girl. Goblin's silver repels mundane dirt, imbibing only that which strengthens it."
Monday, November 17, 2008
William Blake Songs of Innocence painting
William Blake Songs of Innocence paintingVincent van Gogh Red vineyards paintingJoseph Mallord William Turner The Grand Canal Venice painting
Spellotape; enchanted paper clips that coiled snakelike from their drawer and had be beaten back; a fussy little lace box full of spare hair bows and clips; but no sign of a locket.
Blood Status: Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix. Family: Wife (pureblood), seven children, two
There was a filing cabinet behind the desk: Harry set to searching it. Like Filch's filing cabinet at Hogwarts, it was full of folders, each labeled with a name. It was not until Harry reached the bottommost drawer that he saw something to distract him from the search: Mr. Weasley's file.
He pulled it out and opened it.
Arthur Weasley
Spellotape; enchanted paper clips that coiled snakelike from their drawer and had be beaten back; a fussy little lace box full of spare hair bows and clips; but no sign of a locket.
Blood Status: Pureblood, but with unacceptable pro-Muggle leanings. Known member of the Order of the Phoenix. Family: Wife (pureblood), seven children, two
There was a filing cabinet behind the desk: Harry set to searching it. Like Filch's filing cabinet at Hogwarts, it was full of folders, each labeled with a name. It was not until Harry reached the bottommost drawer that he saw something to distract him from the search: Mr. Weasley's file.
He pulled it out and opened it.
Arthur Weasley
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Claude Monet The Water Lily Pond painting
Claude Monet The Water Lily Pond paintingFrida Kahlo Viva la vida paintingFrida Kahlo The Two Fridas painting
And there's this too"
He handed her the torn photograph, and Hermione smiled at the baby zooming in and out of sight on the toy broom.
"I thought so. Every room I looked into on the way up had been disturbed. What were they after, do you think?" "Information on the Order, if it was Snape." "But you'd think he'd already have all he needed. I mean was in the Order, wasn't he?"
"I've been looking for the rest of the letter," Harry said, "but it's not here."
Hermione glanced around.
"Did you make all this mess, or was some of it done when you got here?"
"Someone had searched before me," said Harry.
And there's this too"
He handed her the torn photograph, and Hermione smiled at the baby zooming in and out of sight on the toy broom.
"I thought so. Every room I looked into on the way up had been disturbed. What were they after, do you think?" "Information on the Order, if it was Snape." "But you'd think he'd already have all he needed. I mean was in the Order, wasn't he?"
"I've been looking for the rest of the letter," Harry said, "but it's not here."
Hermione glanced around.
"Did you make all this mess, or was some of it done when you got here?"
"Someone had searched before me," said Harry.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Jean Beraud Pont des arts painting
Jean Beraud Pont des arts paintingJean Beraud Boulevard des capucines paintingHenri Rousseau The Snake Charmer painting
I've no idea, it just popped into my head, but I'm sure we're safer out in the Muggle world, it's not where they'll expect us to be."
"True," said Ron, looking around, "but don't you feel a bit – exposed?"
"Where else is there?" asked Hermione, cringing as the men on the other side of the road started wolf-whistling at her. "We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there. . . . I suppose we could try
"All right, darling?" the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. "Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!"
"Let's sit down somewhere," Hermione said hastily as Ron opened his mouth to shout back across the road. "Look, this will do, in here!"
I've no idea, it just popped into my head, but I'm sure we're safer out in the Muggle world, it's not where they'll expect us to be."
"True," said Ron, looking around, "but don't you feel a bit – exposed?"
"Where else is there?" asked Hermione, cringing as the men on the other side of the road started wolf-whistling at her. "We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there. . . . I suppose we could try
"All right, darling?" the drunkest of the men on the other pavement was yelling. "Fancy a drink? Ditch ginger and come and have a pint!"
"Let's sit down somewhere," Hermione said hastily as Ron opened his mouth to shout back across the road. "Look, this will do, in here!"
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Wassily Kandinsky Composition VIII painting
Wassily Kandinsky Composition VIII paintingVincent van Gogh The Bedroom paintingVincent van Gogh Reaper painting
I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to the
They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.
"Minister of Magic coming with me."
The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished.
"We shouldn't be here," said Lupin at once. "Harry -- I'm sorry -- I'll explain some other time--"
He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.
"The Minister -- but why--? I don't understand--"
I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to the
They all saw it at the same time: a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table, where it resolved itself into a bright silver weasel, which stood on its hind legs and spoke with Mr. Weasley's voice.
"Minister of Magic coming with me."
The Patronus dissolved into thin air, leaving Fleur's family peering in astonishment at the place where it had vanished.
"We shouldn't be here," said Lupin at once. "Harry -- I'm sorry -- I'll explain some other time--"
He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered.
"The Minister -- but why--? I don't understand--"
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Thomas Moran Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone painting
Thomas Moran Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone paintingThomas Moran Fort George Island paintingThomas Moran Cliffs of Green River painting
Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman were icons of the Golden Age of cinema, when stars were allegedly paid big money by tobacco companies to help perpetuate the myth of smoking as the cool thing to do. The witty and tender Casablanca seems that much more romantic and tragic thanks to that little cancer stick; you would be hard pressed to find a scene where Bogart is without one. Critics and even scholars have been fascinated by Casablanca's use of cigarettes and its effects on culture, but all we know is that lost love has never seemed so glamorous.
KaliforniaJuliette Lewis' Adele is forbidden to smoke by her serial-killin' boyfriend Early (played with red-necked glee by Brad Pitt); in fact, she confides to the black-clad Carrie, he beats her when she does. However, Carrie, played by Michelle Forbes, smokes like a chimney in nearly a dozen scenes and even gets Adele to indulge. With a cigarette dangling from her lips, Carrie's inhaling and exhaling is audible
Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman were icons of the Golden Age of cinema, when stars were allegedly paid big money by tobacco companies to help perpetuate the myth of smoking as the cool thing to do. The witty and tender Casablanca seems that much more romantic and tragic thanks to that little cancer stick; you would be hard pressed to find a scene where Bogart is without one. Critics and even scholars have been fascinated by Casablanca's use of cigarettes and its effects on culture, but all we know is that lost love has never seemed so glamorous.
KaliforniaJuliette Lewis' Adele is forbidden to smoke by her serial-killin' boyfriend Early (played with red-necked glee by Brad Pitt); in fact, she confides to the black-clad Carrie, he beats her when she does. However, Carrie, played by Michelle Forbes, smokes like a chimney in nearly a dozen scenes and even gets Adele to indulge. With a cigarette dangling from her lips, Carrie's inhaling and exhaling is audible
Monday, November 10, 2008
Henry Peeters paintings
Henry Peeters paintings
Hessam Abrishami paintings
place. The fact that so many women can’t have one supports the notion that the female orgasm is not evolutionary, nor connected to reproductive success or fertility -- otherwise Darwin would’ve nudged them out long ago.
Dr. Eva Martin hints at perhaps one aspect of the issue, saying that the female sex drive is “guided by a complicated system of signals between the brain, the ovaries and other reproductive sexual organs. A healthy brain, more than a , dictates a woman's desire for sex.”
Ladies, learn from us: It does not have to be so complicated. In 1985’s Bachelor Party, actor Adrian Zmed aptly summed up the only thing necessary to ramp up the male sex drive with the line, “Gentlemen, start your boners.”
Howard Behrens paintings
Another thing you didn’t know about women is that they are overtaking the car industry. The showroom damsel in distress, long a target of unscrupulous car salesmen, is becoming a thing of the past.
Hessam Abrishami paintings
place. The fact that so many women can’t have one supports the notion that the female orgasm is not evolutionary, nor connected to reproductive success or fertility -- otherwise Darwin would’ve nudged them out long ago.
Dr. Eva Martin hints at perhaps one aspect of the issue, saying that the female sex drive is “guided by a complicated system of signals between the brain, the ovaries and other reproductive sexual organs. A healthy brain, more than a , dictates a woman's desire for sex.”
Ladies, learn from us: It does not have to be so complicated. In 1985’s Bachelor Party, actor Adrian Zmed aptly summed up the only thing necessary to ramp up the male sex drive with the line, “Gentlemen, start your boners.”
Howard Behrens paintings
Another thing you didn’t know about women is that they are overtaking the car industry. The showroom damsel in distress, long a target of unscrupulous car salesmen, is becoming a thing of the past.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Thomas Kinkade New Horizons painting
Thomas Kinkade New Horizons paintingThomas Kinkade Mountain Paradise paintingThomas Kinkade Mountain Memories painting
Mrs. Qureishi was pulled to shore by policemen, her face blue, her lungs full of water, and needed the kiss of the Sarpanch were dragged out soon afterwards. Only Mirza Saeed Akhtar continued to dive, further and further out to sea, staying under for longer and longer periods; until he, too, was rescued from the Arabian Sea, spent, sick and fainting. The pilgrimage was over.
Mirza Saecd awoke in a hospital ward to find a CID man by his bedside. The authorities were considering the feasibility of charging the survivors of the Ayesha expedition with attempted illegal emigration, and detectives had been instructed to get down their stories before they had had a chance to confer.
This was the testimony of the Sarpanch of Titlipur, Muhammad Din: "Just when my strength had failed and I thought I would surely die there in the water, I saw it with my own eyes; I saw the sea divide, like hair being combed; and they were all there, far away, walking away from me. She was there also,
Mrs. Qureishi was pulled to shore by policemen, her face blue, her lungs full of water, and needed the kiss of the Sarpanch were dragged out soon afterwards. Only Mirza Saeed Akhtar continued to dive, further and further out to sea, staying under for longer and longer periods; until he, too, was rescued from the Arabian Sea, spent, sick and fainting. The pilgrimage was over.
Mirza Saecd awoke in a hospital ward to find a CID man by his bedside. The authorities were considering the feasibility of charging the survivors of the Ayesha expedition with attempted illegal emigration, and detectives had been instructed to get down their stories before they had had a chance to confer.
This was the testimony of the Sarpanch of Titlipur, Muhammad Din: "Just when my strength had failed and I thought I would surely die there in the water, I saw it with my own eyes; I saw the sea divide, like hair being combed; and they were all there, far away, walking away from me. She was there also,
Friday, November 7, 2008
Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam painting
Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam paintingThomas Kinkade The Rose Garden painting
When Walcott had done the honours Mrs. Roberts, looking lost in a voluminous and threadbare armchair (her surprisingly pale legs, matchstick--thin, emerging from beneath her black dress to end in mutinous, pink ankle--socks and sensible lace--ups, failed by some distance to reach the floor), got to . "These gentlemen were colleagues of my boy," she said. "It turns out that the probable reason for his murder was the work he was doing on a subject which I am told is also of interest to you. We believe the time has come to work more formally, through the channels you represent." Here one of the three silent "Haitians" handed Pamela a red plastic briefcase. "It contains," Mrs. Roberts mildly explained, "extensive evidence of the existence of witches' covens throughout the Metropolitan Police."
Walcott stood up. "We should go now," he said firmly. "Please." Pamela and Jumpy rose. Mrs. Roberts nodded vaguely, absently, cracking the joints of her loose-skinned hands. "Goodbye," Pamela said, and offered conventional
When Walcott had done the honours Mrs. Roberts, looking lost in a voluminous and threadbare armchair (her surprisingly pale legs, matchstick--thin, emerging from beneath her black dress to end in mutinous, pink ankle--socks and sensible lace--ups, failed by some distance to reach the floor), got to . "These gentlemen were colleagues of my boy," she said. "It turns out that the probable reason for his murder was the work he was doing on a subject which I am told is also of interest to you. We believe the time has come to work more formally, through the channels you represent." Here one of the three silent "Haitians" handed Pamela a red plastic briefcase. "It contains," Mrs. Roberts mildly explained, "extensive evidence of the existence of witches' covens throughout the Metropolitan Police."
Walcott stood up. "We should go now," he said firmly. "Please." Pamela and Jumpy rose. Mrs. Roberts nodded vaguely, absently, cracking the joints of her loose-skinned hands. "Goodbye," Pamela said, and offered conventional
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Jules Joseph Lefebvre Mary Magdalene In The Cave painting
Jules Joseph Lefebvre Mary Magdalene In The Cave paintingDaniel Ridgway Knight On the Way to Market paintingDaniel Ridgway Knight Shepherdess and her Flock paintingthey disagreed on everything, on a short--story they'd both read, whose theme was precisely the nature of the unforgivable. Title and author eluded him, but the story came back vividly. A man and a woman had been intimate friends (never lovers) for all their adult lives. On his twenty--first birthday (they were both poor at the time) she had given him, as a joke, the most horrible, cheap glass vase she could find, its colours a garish parody of Venetian gaiety. Twenty years later, when they were both successful and greying, she visited his with him over his treatment of a mutual friend. In the course of the quarrel her eye fell upon the old vase, which he still kept in pride of place on his sitting-room mantelpiece, and, without pausing in her tirade, she swept it to the floor, smashing it beyond hope of repair. He never spoke to her again; when she died, half a century later, he refused to visit her deathbed or attend her funeral, even though messengers were sent to tell him that these were her dearest wishes. "Tell her," he said to the emissaries, "that she
Camille Pissarro Jardin Mirbeau aux Damps painting
Camille Pissarro Jardin Mirbeau aux Damps paintingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida UNA INVESTIGACIoN paintingBenjamin Williams Leader The Wengen Alps Morning In Switzerland painting
snootiest of all, "Ramlah", whose namesake, the eleventh wife of Mahound, was the daughter of Abu Simbel and Hind. And there was a "Zainab bint Jahsh", and a "Juwairiyah", named after the bride captured on a military expedition, and a "Rehana the Jew", a "Safia" and a "Maimunah", and, most erotic of all the whores, who knew tricks she refused to teach to competitive "Ayesha": the glamorous Egyptian, "Mary the Copt". Strangest of all was the whore who had taken the name of "Zainab bint Khuzaimah", knowing that this wife of Mahound had recently died. The necrophilia of her lovers, who forbade her to make any movements, was one of the more unsavoury aspects of the new regime at The Curtain. But business was , too, was a need that the courtesans fulfilled.
By the end of the first year the twelve had grown so skilful in their roles that their previous selves began to fade away. Baal, more myopic and deafer by
snootiest of all, "Ramlah", whose namesake, the eleventh wife of Mahound, was the daughter of Abu Simbel and Hind. And there was a "Zainab bint Jahsh", and a "Juwairiyah", named after the bride captured on a military expedition, and a "Rehana the Jew", a "Safia" and a "Maimunah", and, most erotic of all the whores, who knew tricks she refused to teach to competitive "Ayesha": the glamorous Egyptian, "Mary the Copt". Strangest of all was the whore who had taken the name of "Zainab bint Khuzaimah", knowing that this wife of Mahound had recently died. The necrophilia of her lovers, who forbade her to make any movements, was one of the more unsavoury aspects of the new regime at The Curtain. But business was , too, was a need that the courtesans fulfilled.
By the end of the first year the twelve had grown so skilful in their roles that their previous selves began to fade away. Baal, more myopic and deafer by
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Salvador Dali The Temptation of St. Anthony painting
Salvador Dali The Temptation of St. Anthony paintingSalvador Dali Persistence of Memory paintingSalvador Dali Maelstrom painting
Johnson, Jumpy on his way over to Pamela Chamcha's had to stifle a number of bigoted thoughts, such as _his father hadn't been white he'd never have done it_; Hanif, he raged, that immature bastard who probably cut notches in his cock to keep count of his conquests, this Johnson with aspirations to represent his people who couldn't wait until they were of age before he started shafting them! . . . couldn't he see that Mishal with her omniscient body was just a, just a, child? -- No she wasn't. -- Damn him, then, damn him for (and here Jumpy shocked himself) being the first. were primarily -- how to put it? -- _linguistic_. Hanif was in perfect control of the languages that mattered: sociological, socialistic, black--radical, anti--anti-- anti--racist, demagogic, oratorical,
Jumpy en route to his mistress tried to convince himself that his resentments of Hanif, _his friend Hanif_,
Johnson, Jumpy on his way over to Pamela Chamcha's had to stifle a number of bigoted thoughts, such as _his father hadn't been white he'd never have done it_; Hanif, he raged, that immature bastard who probably cut notches in his cock to keep count of his conquests, this Johnson with aspirations to represent his people who couldn't wait until they were of age before he started shafting them! . . . couldn't he see that Mishal with her omniscient body was just a, just a, child? -- No she wasn't. -- Damn him, then, damn him for (and here Jumpy shocked himself) being the first. were primarily -- how to put it? -- _linguistic_. Hanif was in perfect control of the languages that mattered: sociological, socialistic, black--radical, anti--anti-- anti--racist, demagogic, oratorical,
Jumpy en route to his mistress tried to convince himself that his resentments of Hanif, _his friend Hanif_,
Monday, November 3, 2008
Claude Monet Ice Thawing on the Seine painting
Claude Monet Ice Thawing on the Seine paintingClaude Monet Houses of Parliament London paintingClaude Monet Houses at Argenteuil painting
So now I have a dream-wife, the dreamer becomes conscious enough to think. What the hell to do with her? -- But it isn't up to him. Aycsha and Mishal Akhtar are together in the big house.
o o o
Ever since his birthday Mirza Saeed had been full of passionate desires, "as if life really does begin at forty", his wife so energetic that the servants had to change the bedsheets three times per day. Mishal hoped secretly that this heightening of her husband's libido would lead her to conceive, because she was of the firm opinion that enthusiasm mattered, whatever doctors might say to the contrary, and that the years of taking her temperature every morning before getting out of bed, and then plotting the results on graph paper in order to establish her pattern of ovulation, had actually dissuaded the babies from being born, partly because it
So now I have a dream-wife, the dreamer becomes conscious enough to think. What the hell to do with her? -- But it isn't up to him. Aycsha and Mishal Akhtar are together in the big house.
o o o
Ever since his birthday Mirza Saeed had been full of passionate desires, "as if life really does begin at forty", his wife so energetic that the servants had to change the bedsheets three times per day. Mishal hoped secretly that this heightening of her husband's libido would lead her to conceive, because she was of the firm opinion that enthusiasm mattered, whatever doctors might say to the contrary, and that the years of taking her temperature every morning before getting out of bed, and then plotting the results on graph paper in order to establish her pattern of ovulation, had actually dissuaded the babies from being born, partly because it
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Vincent van Gogh Farmer Huts in Auvers painting
Vincent van Gogh Farmer Huts in Auvers paintingVincent van Gogh Factory city paintingVincent van Gogh Crows over wheat field painting
degree of pleasure that was, as she had always cheerfully confessed, "quite ideologically unsound", -- on that subject, I really ought to be more charitable.
Pamela Chamcha, née Lovelace, was the possessor of a voice for which, in many ways, the rest of her had been an effort to compensate. It was a voice composed of tweeds, headscarves, summer pudding, hockey-sticks, thatched houses, saddle-soap, house--parties, nuns, family pews, large dogs and philistinism, and in spite of all her attempts to reduce its volume it was loud as a dinner-jacketed drunk throwing bread rolls in a Club. It had been the tragedy of her younger days that thanks to this voice she had been endlessly pursued by the gentlemen farmers and debs' delights and somethings in the city whom she despised with all her heart, while the greenies and peacemarchers and world--changers with whom she instinctively felt at treated her with deep suspicion, bordering on resentment. How could one be
degree of pleasure that was, as she had always cheerfully confessed, "quite ideologically unsound", -- on that subject, I really ought to be more charitable.
Pamela Chamcha, née Lovelace, was the possessor of a voice for which, in many ways, the rest of her had been an effort to compensate. It was a voice composed of tweeds, headscarves, summer pudding, hockey-sticks, thatched houses, saddle-soap, house--parties, nuns, family pews, large dogs and philistinism, and in spite of all her attempts to reduce its volume it was loud as a dinner-jacketed drunk throwing bread rolls in a Club. It had been the tragedy of her younger days that thanks to this voice she had been endlessly pursued by the gentlemen farmers and debs' delights and somethings in the city whom she despised with all her heart, while the greenies and peacemarchers and world--changers with whom she instinctively felt at treated her with deep suspicion, bordering on resentment. How could one be
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