Tired

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, August 31, 2009

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I think I've only told penguins about how don't feel home sometimes. Penguins and someone else, with whom I shared a song about it.
It's not that I'm sad, or upset, I'm just tired. I'm tired of picking the trash, and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and the bags and all that trash.
It isn't always upon me, only some special moments around 9, when I get to hear a word after the other, about it... about IT
I'm just so tired.
Then I go upstairs, to the living room, to the woods, or out, or to school, or to the igloos, or the burrows..
and during those moments, sometimes I get to feel home.

It comes after vacation

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, August 30, 2009

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[hoping this will make up for the absence]
by I'm the penguin

Beautiful beautiful things...

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, August 29, 2009

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I'm aware that this may seem a little off topic but it is just a beautiful thing...
:D


pentaceneTextbook model: A computer-generated image of how we're used to seeing a molecule represented with balls and sticks



[via DailyMail]

The way I see them

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Friday, August 28, 2009

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I’ve always imagined alter-egos of people, alter-egos of their most deep, dark, artistic and even romantic (original sense) nature. As a visual person I am, I always imagine it in deep dark grays and reds and blues. I also picture people in folkloric clothing or the most bizarre things that would go along their personality. I have seen a girl I know, she lives in an abandoned monastery, she always wears blood red dresses and dark gaunts, she walks with boredom and passion at once, looking out for her rotten roses garden, they die the darkest in summer.

I have also seen this boy who lives in a theater at night, while nobody’s watching. Kind of like the phantom of the opera, but everyone around knew about him and saw him eventually. He lived there and recited the lines of every play he knew, while wearing nothing but black. Black suit, black masks and black intentions. He suffered of an unexplainable pain and would always bleed from healed injury, and gangrene from healthy tissue.

Then there was the tall old sage (because here fantasy can also occur). He lives in a lighthouse, he has travelled, he has been places, he is going places. But he has never left, and will never leave that lighthouse. It is next to a precipice that ends in the rocky ocean. There the clouds are always gray and always wet, but it doesn’t rain. Like the feeling of upcoming liberation that never comes. In his broken lighthouse he walks around in his deep indigo blue robes, taking books and not reading them, grabbing food and not eating it, inhaling air and not breathing it.

But what’s curious about this old sage is that every day after the twilight he climbs to the top of the lighthouse, he wraps himself in timeless blankets and then just jumps. He jumps off the li9ghthouse and into the cliff. His goal is not to hit the rocks, or die, or swim. His aim is to just fall, fall for as long as he can, having not control or ability to stop it, yet having nothing to worry about. Then, just as he hit the water and rocks and was all broken up he would grab himself and heal, and retire back to the lighthouse. Where would he again prepare for the jump.


just a though


by I'm the penguin

Fields banner

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, August 27, 2009

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I did two banners... do you like any? vote and lets see how they look

Euphoria

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, August 26, 2009

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And it is like whn in movies one sees the clouds amking space to a sun shine that cracks the grey sky and brings joy and happiness, yes... it is that silly and unbelivable, because really, you think that it nothing but cheap drama until it happens. You feet start to feel very light, you don't feel like you're stepping, if you are doing so at all, your heart beats marking the beat of one of those symphonies in the radio, you have shortness of breath, yet you have never felt so good.

And you know it, you know that in that moment you are capable of flying, lifting the feet from the ground and going anywhere, you know you are indestructable and that there is absolutely nothing in the world that can stop you. You know this, yet you decide to leave that for later, and continue with a firm step towards



________________________on another less irresponsible note:

Hope you liked it, but more important I hope you were able to notice the intention and get what's imporant of it all: knowledge about life, the kind of knowledge nobody teaches in a classroom.




by I'm the penguin


Oh the memories....

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, August 25, 2009

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This made me think about lots of things, besides being a great song... :D

Textures

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Monday, August 24, 2009

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I don't know why I do it, but it happens that every time I encounter an interesting texture I must feel it with the lips. "It's because they are more sensible" they say, it could be, it could also be a great number of reasons that pend between me just being weird and one of those unexplainable childhood traumas. Whatever the reason, I always do it.

The point is that there was this specific texture is soft yet it makes friction, it is also a little rough and a sliding property like that of the mate paper, yet it is thicker and bulky. I pass my lips all over it to feel the round half-donut kind of structure that ends in a couple of holes. It is small, like a little box, connected to a cable.

In the middle there is this thing, that is uneven and unpleasant for the touch, but it keeps the little box and the cable together, like one of those rugged and sudden transitions of life. Like from adolescence to adulthood, or from elderly to dead, but of course... it is only a cable and a little box. The cable is clear and round, certainly there is not much to say about it, but the other side, the little box has that intriguing and fantastic texture; the adulthood of the cable for a matter of speaking.






[descriptivenessly]
by I'm the penguin

Back in September

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, August 23, 2009

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Everything says it will be back in September, I don't think I'm quite back myself, so I'm also waiting for it...
Because getting the rythm, the shows and the late nights it's crucial in this life...
And during this long stand-by status... I've managed to bring the spaceship memories back...
Ground control to major tom
Ground control to major tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on

Ground control to major tom
Commencing countdown, engines on
Check ignition and may gods love be with you

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five,
Four, three, two, one, liftoff

This is ground control to major tom
Youve really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now its time to leave the capsule if you dare

This is major tom to ground control
Im stepping through the door
And Im floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today

For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet earth is blue
And theres nothing I can do

Though Im past one hundred thousand miles
Im feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell me wife I love her very much she knows

Ground control to major tom
Your circuits dead, theres something wrong
Can you hear me, major tom?
Can you hear me, major tom?
Can you hear me, major tom?
Can you....

Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the moon
Planet earth is blue
And theres nothing I can do.

Skyposts

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, August 22, 2009

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May the light guide your blind flight


by I'm the penguin

Get it!

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, August 21, 2009

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Of censorship

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, August 20, 2009

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Leaves
"What happened to all the statues' crotches Father?" asked the man, regarding the lack of manhood in the sculptures
"Oh, we had to do something about those roman nudists, so we placed instead a concrete leaf, much more descrete" explained the Father "It is for the children you know, we don't know what those sculptures will do to their minds"
"You're right" agreed the man "That should cause less confusion when they shower"


She never noticed
She then looked at her son, and noticed for the first time a piercing in his left ear, then she came closer and saw a tatto coming from his neck. She was horrorized, but now was not the time to wonder about that, she was too busy juggling her Sunday school friends, the fact that she never new her son did drugs untill last night, and the people from the morgue who had been waiting for an hour now.



by I'm the penguin




Five hundred.. and one

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, August 19, 2009

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This is a new era.... well, it's not, but you specially know how love being dramatic from time to time, so... it is a new era!
I'm amazed, I remember the 75th post, for which I did a banner, and I remember exactly where I was when I read the 100th... it had colors, and it was beautiful...
Then I kinda lost count... I mean we have five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred posts.. well... (again, dramatic) not exactly, but at least the five hundred part
In the end? how can you measure it?
Also.. according to Wiki:

-500 (five hundred) is the natural number following 499 and preceding 501. (shocker!)
-an HTTP status code for Internal Server Error (D: damn...)
-an SMTP status code meaning a syntax error has occurred due to unrecognized command (don't we love syntax errors?)
-Monkey (UK slang for £500; USA slang for $500) (this monkey hasn't gone to heaven...[pixies ref] )

and this post... which is actually 501

501 = 3 × 167, sum of the first eighteen primes, also model number of Levi's jeans, HTTP status code indicating server does not support facility required (wasn't it 500?), SMTP status code meaning syntax error in parameters,(this one too, ho c'mon wiki...) also the number of verbs in the 501 Verbs series from Barron's (e.g., 501 Spanish Verbs, 501 French Verbs, etc.). 501 is the lowest possible VantageScore credit score, corresponding to very poor credit.

True strangers, very dearly familiar

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, August 18, 2009

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As you might know or not, the other day I was looking for Camus quotes.

Well, I didn't find what I was looking for, BUT, I found something more amazing.

One of those gifts of life, that came like a gift should really come, unexpected: great quotes.


All by Albert Camus
"A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession."

"All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning. Great works are often born on a street corner or in a restaurant's revolving door."
"Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken. "
"Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being. "
"Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better. "
And for last: the grand jewel of the crown:

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion. "


by I'm the unauthorized philosopher

Made up stories

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, August 17, 2009

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Sometimes I think about you, about the dream, about the story that was never told, not even by me. It was a story I chose to believe, for a few seconds, a lonely night.
It was the thought of you thinking about me, the sudden thought that it wouldn't be a great idea. The language, the carefully chosen words and the story I made up. The sort of stories I made up.
And then it was over, the sudden rush of need faded, and then you were nothing, and everything.

Then, I went to the next story...

TSOTPPOVAU according to a local unauthorized philosopher (part III)

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in , | Posted on Sunday, August 16, 2009

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So, if you've been following you know this so far:

*Human behaviour tends to go from order to chaos back to order, bouncing in a rythmical symphony we call history.

*All the currents of though end up in their ultimate form being some sort of balance

*And as Camus said (didin't find the quote so this is paraphrase) "it doesn't matter how much tirany there will ever be, or the good intentions of the socialists, because human history has shown that we are driven only by a path of infinite freedom"

And maybe last point was not stated, but that is also something that an unauthorized philosopher must keep in mind.


So, by now I bet you have already though about this at least once in your life (if not, do not worry... just leave (jk)). It is important you know you have came far from the monotonous routine the system offers. But my dear dear friend, don't you think for a single second that just because you've reached high you've reached the top. Because you haven't.

Simply having socialist ideas mixed with reality's consience, stirred with the rod of world knowledge and served with existencialism does not do it. And it is important the unauthorized philosopher knows this, because one of the many facts of life is this: you will encounter in life people who have never had anything near this ideas. You will encounter those who cannot and will not even understand it. But that, I repeat, does not make you grand, because as it happens the fact that you were able to climb high only means there is people who were able to climb higher before than you, and long after you.


Clearing that out.



We chall proceed to understand that the human existence is not important, then to understand its real value. Because to understand the world that surrounds us, and the meaning of things we must first realize that we, are not the center of the universe. We must know how we are here mostly because of chance, some weird mutations and chance. The world was not made for us to rule, or else things would be different, and we have no right over other wildlife.

It is indeed difficult to cast away the antropocentrism in us, because sometimes it is deeply burried. And example is when someone says that the human race is the worse scum ever to exist, and that is has created nothing positive ever. But saying this just affirms the believe that the human is a special being that is supposed to have something good, to stand out and act correctly. Well, guess what, we are animals behaving how we best find benefical, even if that is stupid.

Another antropocentrical way of though that could generate debate, and finding the borders of it is up to every single person, is the other view that the human has a responsibility to take care of the other wild life. I know it would be argumented that if it's our fault that some specie was indangered because of us, it is our duty to make it up to it. But we must also understand, we are not special, we're just animals taking over the territory, the only difference is that the other animals have some equilibrium and have a way of coexisting that ends with not having overpopulation. That is what's makes us different, that apparently the "wild life" has better family planning than us.

So instead of taking a stance fo the other animals we should first take a stand for our specie and achieve the balance the others have. So yea, I also imply by this that we must work to protect the other animals that we adjust. And this is where the reader makes up their own idea about what should be done about this.



And now I leave you to think

What that you do or think that is truly antropocentristic but you though it wasn't?





by I'm the penguin

Can you save your life?

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Saturday, August 15, 2009

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Can you save your life?

Sorry for the messed up time... It's now fixed...

The words into ideas

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Friday, August 14, 2009

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by I'm the penguin

The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, August 13, 2009

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William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll
With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger
At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'.
And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him
As they rode him in custody down to the station
And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years
Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres
With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him
And high office relations in the politics of Maryland,
Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders
And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling,
In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen.
She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children
Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage
And never sat once at the head of the table
And didn't even talk to the people at the table
Who just cleaned up all the food from the table
And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level,
Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane
That sailed through the air and came down through the room,
Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle.
And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger.
But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Take the rag away from your face.
Now ain't the time for your tears.

In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel
To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level
And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded
And that even the nobles get properly handled
Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em
And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom,
Stared at the person who killed for no reason
Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'.
And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished,
And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance,
William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence.
Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears,
Bury the rag deep in your face
For now's the time for your tears.


Mr.Dylan... and a great cover by Mason Jennings

The fate of Elisa and Samuel

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, August 12, 2009

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Once upon a time, in a strange strange land, where true love was accessible on line and your "first" was hardly ever your "last" lived a Fair Lady that went by the name of Elisa. Elisa was not born in a castle or silk blankets, she was actually born in a hospital along with other 15 people who would have nothing to do with her future life. Almost nothing about her birth was magical, except for one single thing. The instant she came into the world, she was marked with a destiny that was prophetic: She was to meet and fall in love with a shiny knight who had been born the same day, two years earlier; and by entwining they would grant on themselves a happy ending, sponsored by destiny.


Of course, like in all prophecies, Elisa was not to know her fate for that would ruin the entire purpose. But she instead would have to acquaint this enchanted knight on her own, and the future would make sure of this meeting to happen. Because this was not just any knight, and this was not just her prophecy, but also Samuel's. He had been born in the same strange world, in the same strange day, just two years earlier; and he had been to marked to encounter the fair lady and live happily ever after.

Given the condition of her birth, Elisa had always felt beneath her skin that happiness and joy was out there, somewhere, she just had to go out and find it. This same feeling made her find in her childhood great friends and have amazing adventures, and when she was an adolescent to fin romantic partners to have melodramatic relationships.

Her first boyfriend was 18 and she was 15, with him she learned that age didn't always mean experience, or intelligence for that matter, she also learned that one could tell a bad kiss from a good one without previous knowledge. Then she met a good boy, from a good family, who made a good impression with her parents, they looked good together and she always had a good time. But at her short age of 16 she had already learned that happiness was not all about good, but deeper. That relationship ended well, very educational for both, although so much good did not help with her next conquer.

Neither her cliqued father saying "that boy is trouble" or her worried mother trying to ground her and buying her away from him, or even said boy trying to go too far in the first way stopped her from dating him. He was a rocker, and at the time it really looked like happiness, him taking her in motorcycle to some nasty bar to play her some 80's rock songs. But somewhere between graduating high school and knowing the real world she woke up from the teenage dream: rock music cannot feed you.

Meanwhile, Samuel's condition had not been the same, when he was born and marked with his happiness prophecy, Elisa had not yet been born so technically speaking the key to his whole happiness did not exist in the world until two years after his birth. Because of this he had always known deep inside of him that there was no such a thing as the mystic happiness everyone spoke of, that it was only a self-built myth. To the prophecy it could also have helped his drunk and finally leaving mother. But that's another story.

Samuel's first relationship, or however you call the girl who climbed his window every now and then to made out with him in his room and talk about nonsense. And it would be common to think this girl, Candice, was rather easy, but she couldn't help it. Because of his pessimism, good things had their way to get to Sam's life, maybe just for the irony. And so this girl could not help but to be attracted to the emotional pit hole he seemed.

After Candice, Sam realized that perhaps relationships were not only useful, but in a way needed, because to him it was about a mutual agreement to satisfy each other's needs, each other's passionate and so joyful needs. So Samuel just continued his life, not knowing he was destined to encounter the love of his life soon, having an empty relationship after the other. Maybe it was his sixth sense waiting for the right one, or just his incapability of trusting them all.



And destiny may had not planned for all this, but it knew that they were perfect for each other. Her shine would complement his lack of, his detailed planning could complement her intensity of the moment, all their wrongs would be righted by the other, or at least destiny had foreseen so.

One day Samuel woke up with an itch, and itch that came from inside his chest. It persisted and could not be scratched, or rubbed, or removed with deep breathing, or with mid-term finalization. He got to think it was need for contact, so he made a call and called a friend-who-he-occasionally-had-sex-with and it went away for a while, but it came back. Now, this could have been a rash who he passed on to the girl, or it could be, he later thought of, a yearn for something, something more than just friends-who-he-occasionally-had-sex-with. But it could just be a rash. Regardless of it, weeks later a friend from high school had invited him to his college, to some informal ball (keg party), there he was introduced to a group of girls, including a cute brunet with light green eyes who went by the name of Elisa.


Coming out of a terrible patch of college boys Elisa was fed up of them, and like many women around the world, one day she had a breakthrough: she didn't need men in her life, she was a strong and independent woman. She had to move on from all the dating and the neediness that involved her current status. Within weeks she became an expert in self-improvement books, yoga and decent dieting, and basically all the stuff strong independent women do. She had not even finished "Welcome to temptation" when she started seeing the decent looking man working at the library. He is mature and nice she though, but it turns out that mature men working at libraries are too... men (jerks).

This hit Elisa hard, bringing her into a personal crisis, she had for too long let her so called happiness depend on the men she dated and the relationships she had. She entered into a sort of depression, which led to a friend intervention, which led to one of her guy friends almost forcing her to go to some frat informal ball (keg party).


“She’s Elisa” said Jon to high school friend

“Hi, I’m Sam” he said, waving “I go to art school, here in Phily” he said, smirking

“So, you’re an artist…” she said, sounding judging

“Well, I sometimes like to think so, I’m majoring in photojournalism.” He said, getting no impression “sometimes I wonder if I should just get into a real school and study actual journalism” he laughed, then they (except Elisa) laughed, because that is what undergrads do when one jokes about changing majors, laugh nervously.

“Perhaps you should” she said, looking away “I’ll go get some beer…”

That was their last conversation for the rest of the night.



“What’s with Elisa man?” Samuel asked Jon

“She’s been through a rough time lately with guys you know…” said Jon looking at her

“Does she have some sort of boyfriend?” asked Samuel

“Bad time man, bad time” said Jon, knowing of his so called “reputation”


That was the last time he heard of her that night


“Did you see how he kept looking at you?” asked Shauna (the best friend)

“Who? The art guy?” she pointed at Sam wearily

“He’s cute” Shauna said. Samuel was cute

“Shauna! ‘He’s cute’ is what got me in this mess” she said, pouring beer in the red cup “plus, he’s totally a player” she said.

“You can’t know that…” her friend naively said

“Believe me, by now I can, or should. Just watch how he looks at girls, like he knows for a fact they will all run into his arms” she drank the beer “and that was not even funny ‘I guess I should change’” she loosely imitated him. It indeed had not been funny “Stupid men” she said, finishing the cup and crushing it.


That was the last time she wanted to ever see him.


And despite of a bad start, the lovers to be had already met, and destiny had set the course of things into motion, there were in game forces greater than Elisa’s men problems and Samuel’s trust issues. Such forces involved Jon giving up Elisa’s number to Samuel, which strangely was not taken as an act of a Cupid, but instead that of a shitty friend. Said forces had also arranged that Elisa finally agreed to meet Samuel because she needed a photographer for an Advertising final project. The gears were working.


And so they met, and worked together getting shots of the city to promote the tourism with an edgy view. While Samuel had thought of going for classy contrasted with grunge, Elisa had even sketched a mockery of classy with Traveler adventure of the city of Philadelphia. Somewhere in-between they worked hours in the editing and placing and shooting, and knowing they had both been scared of Alf growing up, and getting to know each other’s favorite trashy celebrity which they kept in secret, and also about their mutual passion for Sherlock Holmes.


The gears were running Fate had planned well the matching; it was matter of time for the prophecy to be fulfilled. Elisa had found someone she could rely on, and Samuel had found someone who he could actually see himself in a long term relationship. Better days began for the both of them, their ancestral tie had brought them together and now they knew they were right for each other.


Then it came. That which destiny had not foreseen forging their union: They had had entire lives previous to their encounter.



“I sometimes feel like I’m not enough for you”


“You keep pushing me away every time we get too close”


They were meant for each other, they truly were. And the fact that they could find one another was a miracle, and it should all have gone the way it was planned, but as it happens Destiny had not though about the fact that they would both have histories. She couldn't bare his never complete giving in, and she had too much emotional baggage not to be able to have a fresh start. It was not the right time. If only they had met years earlier, or later, or even one day.


Now their fate was broken, they would never be happy, at least with each other.









[how else could I write about romance?]
by I'm the penguin



Meteorite Shower

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, August 11, 2009

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Tomorrow, August 12, we'll have the peak of perseids metorite shower...
I'll be great during midnight (damn school) but, we might be able to see some earlier...

Also, inspired by that and [via Stephen Fry's twitter]

TSOTPPOVAU according to a local unauthorized philosopher (part II)

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in , | Posted on Monday, August 10, 2009

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Last time we reviewed the principal currents of thought when developing a philosophical criteria. We went trough the phases of following rules and then breaking them, and how there is a pattern in many things about your points of view changing over time. And know we're going to focus in that pattern.

For a philosopher to understand the surrounding present, he/she must first understand how did things got to where they are, hence the importance of history. And the part of history we need right now, is the cultural aspect and main characteristics of the past.

I could give a really long explanation of things, but considering your and my attention span I will make it short and you will just have to wikipedia whatever you don't understand. So, the Greek, they were great and all, but what we care know is that they were driven (culturaly) by rules, logic and reason.

But then the world evolved into a more passionate place, we can see in the (OLD) English classics, as well as the fusion of East and West that the culture retook a more emotional turn. Also came the medieval dark times when the only stories were eiher epic or religious. Again, just about emotions and stories.

Then came the Renaissance, which was breaking the dogma out of the dark and building again a culture of science and reason. This time period was again of taking back the logic and rules into the art to make well planned works. This continued for the Neoclassical period, which was too a rebuild of the Classic age, embracing whatever there was to learn from the Greeks and Romans and mixing it with their present events.

Then came another strike of emotion, the Romanticism. This was a time where rules were left aside to show something deeper than high art made by fine technique, to show the dark emotions inside the artist. It was a celebration of the pain and angst caused by love and such. It was also a rebellion against the unexpressive forms of art which only showed superficial and though out beauty.

I think that would be enough to show my point. History shows us that general currents of thought go like that, in a constant change going from reason to emotion, from order to chaos, making a zig zag out of history. And if we looked deeper into it, we would observe that with time the period of staying in one side of the spectrum is less and less, and also the distance between each peak is less, meaning that the differences between "reason" and "emotion" decrease.

What must be taken from all this is that even if the changes seem drastic, the more we do them, the more we start to find the inbetween point, the balance between the two (or three or four, whatever number of variables you have). And studying the different doctrines to achieve happiness, you will find that each, in its own particular way leads you to that, balance.



by I'm the penguin




Comment section evolution

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, August 09, 2009

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So, I was watching a Joy Divison video on youtube.. And I couldn't help reading the comments...
what's with the comment-section-converations?

stives13walker
Ian Curtis genius !!!!

yalm13iyats
Epilepsy dance ftw

vikingwi13zardeyes2121
I love Joy Division because adore Ian's voice. It's so bassy and gives guys with a bass voice (like me) inspiration.

ekcer13Scream
bailaba muy bien al estillo de la morsa y canataba de la patada que bueno que ya que se murio y que esta en el (infierno) cielo
He dances very good like the goodness bunny and sings very very a piece of shit is a bendition that he is now dead and he is the hell
Es una prueba de que dios existe

oscar133422
R.I.P ian curtis

191813448
την εποχη που η μανσεστερ ηταν ακομα ποδοσφαιρικη ομαδα.....befor fucking beckam
Cappuccino13Coffee
τι διάολο? αυτό δεν έχει να κάνει με Joy Division.

guim13badriver
Brazil and Germany speaks the same language German...
miscela13ineouss
RIP IAN!
JesusC13hrist5000
i think the "official" language is German, but no one speaks it there, except the ruling elite and German enclaves in the south and in Uruguay and Paraguay.
guimba13driver
what i´m talking is the principal fact.....Germans and Brazilians are the same thing, second fact,about Hitler he was a mad a insane who make a big shit in the history of the 20 century like George Bush, Sadan Hussein,Osama Bin Laden and Amy Winehouse...




[note: I added numbers in case these users google themselves.. I'm kinda scared..]

TSOTPPOVAU according to a local unauthorized philosopher

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in , | Posted on Saturday, August 08, 2009

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Have you notice how when I speak of people who think they're philosophical I tend to do comments such as "he's fake" or "he needs to grow up" or a simple "that's just plain stupid"? I bet you notice, and how then you give an answer that is very like you that is newarly a grown meaning something between "I have no idea what the f* you mean" and "II don't see it and would have to disagree... but whatever, that's your opinion"

Well, I should explain myself.

I know you have philosophical thoughts every now and then, and that you have build theories of your own (maybe). But you have to understand, for someone who has spend his entire life discovering and unraveling currents of thought having hard debates with long dead people, and complaining about the statements of the yet-to-be-borns it is a whole different deal than just going trough some ideas. It is a lifestyle.

So in an attempt to be understood and leave something to the world I shall show you:

The steps of the philosophical points of view and understandings according to a local unauthorized philosopher.


The first step is to admit it: You have an interest for the nature of things, their beggining, their future and their condition of being. And by the first step you can't really accomplish much, because it is all about believing whatever people tell you is right, it is about learning of the world from someone else's point of view.*
(*quick note of writer: I realize the way of learning is really half based on someone else's point of view, and that trying to build knowledge from one self is impossible, but my point here is directing to those who only rely on what they were told)

Somewhere along the path of life, you'll encounter some of what you thought you knew was not entirely right, and so your jorney begins. Taking what you had and adventuring into leting another current flow into your opinion and mind.

I realize this is vague. And that is because this whole affair is really, rather vague. But that is the principle step in philosophy, breaking old conceptions of things and form others. And it is also rather vague because there is no way I can know what did you find. Also, you will find that a lot of times, this two different ideas are contrasting.

(Moving from all the political correctness part, stating everyone's right and it's all about subjective views, I shall continue to the real deal)

Generally you realize first that all rules are important, and that they are there for a reason. You think sometimes the reason is hard to find, or simply not important, but you know rules are there to facilitate things, therefore you enter the realm of the stoicism (sort of). Here you try to act in a correct way, follow whatever rules there are and live up to societies conceptions. With none or little hesitation. Your principles are those which you are thaught.

This first step is necesary, and it should not be treated as wrong just because there is lack of logic. But by no means should a person stay in that area of philosophy.

Because if you are too an unauthorized philosopher, you will find that some rules just shouldn't be there, you will find that laws and social arrangements have changed trough history for a reason. You start to reason and put logic into the system. You realize the world is freaking collapsing (you will realize later (hopefully) it wasn't). In this stage you shall proceed to question rules, to argue with authority about what you think is useful and what not. You start the revolution and think that you should change the present order of things. Here your principles are rather shady and very likely to tend towards anarchism.

This second step is just what I told you about, you break old conceptions and form new ones. But this is also a dangerous stage, not because you become a rebel, but because you might stay like that. There are some that once reaching this realization, confirm that they have evolved and think they're the epythome of though, that a new society should be forged by their new (pfft) order (or lack) of thinking. And that is the dangerous part, because while it is a step forward, it is not the final one.

If you are lucky enough to learn more of the world and how it works, you also happen to change your way to see the human condition. The most common way is going from divine to infra. (what th hell do I mean?) That we start seeing the human condition as something great, rulers of the world, and then you happen to see human stupidity, and realize we are actually animals. It is actually quite similar to the previous explanation about rules and society. It is all about growing with society's conceptions and then breaking them.

The latter step may lead you to the so called "raging activist who says humans are stupid apes who have done nothing useful or good". And this is a very complex one, because like I explained previously, some people think that is the epythome of all philosophy in the world. But it actually is only a statement against the rules, and that for itself is nothing but being against just to be against. And that is a current (against just to be against) we should always avoid, for there is no logic, common sense or reason to it.

So far we can begin to see there is a pattern in this drill. We have something, we destroy it, and we try to build something different (obviously using remains of the past).





That should be enough to think about today, I promise there will be a continuation so to explain completely all what there is to this.


by I'm the penguin

Beard

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Friday, August 07, 2009

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The Longest Way 1.0 - one year walk/beard grow time lapse from Christoph Rehage on Vimeo.



I love this video!

Tour de Fr..Guanatos

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Thursday, August 06, 2009

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This should excuse me from not having any writing ideas. At least in my mind it does...

I'll just throw some more pictures to call it photojournalism

(see how good I am at giving procrastination fancy names?)

Random pictures from a random city in the Republic of Random








by I'm the penguin

A keeper ; D

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Wednesday, August 05, 2009

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Denny: Daniel!
Daniel: Denny!
Denny: Lookin' good.
Daniel: Thank you. You wanna come to my funeral?
Denny: Oh, funerals are sad.
Daniel: Well, this one'll be fun.
Denny: Count me in!
Daniel: Tomorrow night.
Denny: No can do, busy... Rain check?
Daniel: [pauses] ...Absolutely.
Denny: [nods to Denise] He's a keeper! [walks off]
Daniel: Denny's great.
Denise: Yep.
Daniel: He doesn't hear a thing anyone says, does he?
Denise: Nope.

The joke is on you not YOU

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Tuesday, August 04, 2009

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Look at me, it's not even been two months and I'm already messing again with our dearest (accidental) readers' privacy. *tsk tsk tsk*

Well... I'm doing it anyway, so I might do it already. (and no, this has nothing to do with the fact that I have nothing else to tell you... seriously, this is amusing)


In case you don't remember, last time we were at this, there was a person (SHHE) who had asked about the birds and the peeps. Well, actually SHHE was wondering what it meant that a black bird stared at you. Which was amusing and such other adjectives I already used a post for describing.

So today I want to talk about another person, let's call this one YOU (because the reader might actually come back). Well, YOU was (yes, third person) directed here by this adress:

http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=I hear bells ringing everywhere&btnG=Google Search&aq=o&oq=&a


Now, again, if you are not familiar with these, this was a google search with the words "I hear bells
ringing everywhere".

And I made some research, and it is not a song... or anything that could go by that name. So the last ressort of thinking left, was to assume, this person indeed was searching in Google about hearing bells ringing.

"We all can hear them" you might say, but YOU and I know differently. Because YOU is actually not the first one to search this. There have been others, who ask "Is it a disease to hear bells ringing and there are no bells"... or "Hear bells ringing from my head". This is where it gets serious.

Because maybe they have an actual problem, like a serious condition where their faulty brains make them believe they are actually hearing unexisting sounds. And while looking for medical help (on the internet... sans commentaires) they find some weird readerless blog that talks about bells and war time. That must really suck.

And maybe this is not fun like the other one, but I couldn't help but to laugh at the internet and the use of it. Because while we search here loads of stuff and find many answers, we are now also trying to find medical aid on the web. And the fact that looking for that, you instead find some literary blog, it's just a big cosmic joke in my twisted view of the world.

Maybe that's just me and a crude humor, but the whole fact of us depending in such a way in the internet is just hilarious, having as a punch line our blog.

So yea, I just wanted you to see this, to tell you.

We are a punch line.

In this big fat, black humor excuse of a joke, we call life.





by I'm the penguin

Coins and coins

Posted by Mrs. Kite | Posted in | Posted on Monday, August 03, 2009

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I have no money, but I have lots of coins, some of them I like, some of them I despise, some of them I'm not even sure if they're actually coins, still, they get to hang out with the rest of the gang.
Repvbblica Italiana, Liberte Egalite Fraternite, Beatrix Noniginder Nederlanden, Barcelona '92, Elizabeth D.GREG.G.F.D, Juliana Koningin Nederlanden, Carlos I Rey de España, Hong Kong, 175 Aniversario de la independencia de Mexico, and my favorite one:
1 копейка 1971 CCCP
I wasn't even born when that coin came out, for a while not being born was a synonym of not so long ago but as I grow older, that not so long ago becomes an a while ago and it will evolve, nonstop, until the day I can't think about that...

Cutting the crap

Posted by SgtPepper | Posted in | Posted on Sunday, August 02, 2009

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This may sound stupid, witless and even gross.

But I assure you.

It is true.


Of all the things we do, there is just one we don't ever get to see nobody else doing. I mean, you see everyone walking, eating, jumping, running, gossiping, backstabbing, cooking, raging, flaming, thursting, and observing. You know if you do it like them because you see them all doing it, maybe sometimes you just get the twisted version the TV and movies gives you like with romantic moments and kisses under the rain, or how to act after witnessing the dead of a suspicious girl in a dark alley.We even see how people have sex with porn and cinemax (all the fake 3-hour long crap... but still sex).

But there is something we don't see people do, and it is possible we can go trough our lives without ever seeing it. And I'm not talking about something deep like self exploration and meditation. I'm talking about serious shit (seriously). We NEVER see how people go to the toillet. Sure we see how they walk there, but once thos doors are closed we don't see what happens. Now, I know you think this is gross and completely out of the point of this blog. But think about it, of all the things we see people do, doesn't it seem a little funny that such a daily action is missed from our watch?

And sure, the media and cheap movies do jokes about it all the time, but they never show the real deal. They never show the most lonesome of all activities in the day. Because it is in fact the most lonely of all human activities. Showering? If you're lucky enough you get to do it with another person (or if in a team with many others). Peeing? Girls could get a point there, but even then they do have a tendency of going in groups to the lady's room. And guys...well they do it shoulder by shoulder.

So it is not only something we don't see, we don't speak about or mention. It is also the most solitary of all our daily actions. There, it's like a civilization free zone, because when you were little, they taught you how to make use of the toillet; and from there on, it was all your self learning. Whatever is that you do, there was nobody there ever to tell you that's not what people do, so for all you (and I mean we ALL) know, people make complete Catz routines while sitting there. Because the only rule is to not make a sound.

How many things can you do without making a sound?

Do you think? do you imagine? draw? paint, write, dance, work out, act, cry, fill college aplications?

What do you do with your civilization-and-rule-free time?


I hope not just waiting to come out... that would be such a loss of a huge realization.





[getting philosophical about any shit: since 1969]
by I'm the penguin