My Blog

Why is the word yes so brief?
It should be
the longest,
the hardest,
so that you could not decide in an instant to say it,
so that upon reflection you could stop
in the middle of saying it.

(Vera Pavlova)

I must admit that, having played the game and paid the price, this Valentine’s Day (business) affair is all good by me. But what they don’t tell you on those cheerful cards is that Saint Valentine was eventually imprisoned, beaten, stoned, and beheaded. Swedes got it right, they call the day Alla hjärtans dag, or Day of all hearts. Sounds much safer, right? Right.

The Known Universe takes viewers from the Himalayas through our atmosphere and the inky black of space to the afterglow of the Big Bang. Every star, planet, and quasar seen in the film is possible because of the world’s most complete four-dimensional map of the universe, the Digital Universe Atlas that is maintained and updated by astrophysicists at the American Museum of Natural History.

My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.

(Dylan Thomas)

Back on the 4th of February of 2006, this blog, in its current configuration, debuted. It has been an interesting ride, even with the two year hiatus in between. Looking now at the blog statistics, we’ve had 218 unique users in the last 24 hours. And that is quite an accomplishment for something that started more as a personal exercise than anything else. I feel happy for this acomplishment. Thank you to all you readers.

Oh, and my friends got me cake today. With candles. Few things beat cake with candles as a surprise. Having friends does.

CONFORMITY
When people are free to do as they please, they usually imitate each other.

Today, someone mentioned to me that no one sings Love as well as the French, while citing Serge Gainsbourg with his muse, Jane Birkin, as an example. I nodded, approvingly, spotting the delicious irony of Jane Birkin being, in fact, British. She still sings Love beautifully, though.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

(Dylan Thomas)

Artist Céleste Boursier-Mougenot devotes himself to transforming the visual world into sound. Underneath you can see an example of precisely that. To tell you the truth, if I didn’t know any better I would believe Frank Zappa had reincarnated as a bird.