Quarta-feira, 5 de Setembro de 2007


THAT when a thing lies still, unless somewhat else stir it, it will lie still for ever, is a truth that no man doubts of. But that when a thing is in motion, it will eternally be in motion, unless somewhat else stay it, though the reason be the same (namely, that nothing can change itself), is not so easily assented to. For men measure, not only other men, but all other things, by themselves: and because they find themselves subject after motion to pain and lassitude, think everything else grows weary of motion, and seeks repose of its own accord; little considering whether it be not some other motion wherein that desire of rest they find in themselves consisteth. From hence it is that the schools say, heavy bodies fall downwards out of an appetite to rest, and to conserve their nature in that place which is most proper for them; ascribing appetite, and knowledge of what is good for their conservation (which is more than man has), to things inanimate, absurdly.
When a body is once in motion, it moveth (unless something else hinder it) eternally; and whatsoever hindreth it, cannot in an instant, but in time, and by degrees, quite extinguish it: and as we see in the water, though the wind cease, the waves give not over rolling for a long time after; so also it happeneth in that motion which is made in the internal parts of a man, then, when he sees, dreams, etc. For after the object is removed, or the eye shut, we still retain an image of the thing seen, though more obscure than when we see it. And this is it the Latins call imagination, from the image made in seeing, and apply the same, though improperly, to all the other senses. But the Greeks call it fancy, which signifies appearance, and is as proper to one sense as to another. Imagination, therefore, is nothing but decaying sense; and is found in men and many other living creatures, as well sleeping as waking.
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 06:57
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Au-dessus des étangs, au-dessus des vallées, Des montagnes, des bois, des nuages, des mers, Par delà le soleil, par delà les éthers, Par delà les confins des sphères étoilées, Mon esprit, tu te meus avec agilité, Et, comme un bon nageur qui se pâme dans l'onde,Tu sillonnes gaiement l'immensité profonde Avec une indicible et mâle volupté. Envole-toi bien loin de ces miasmes morbides ; Va te purifier dans l'air supérieur, Et bois, comme une pure et divine liqueur, Le feu clair qui remplit les espaces limpides. Derrière les ennuis et les vastes chagrins Qui chargent de leur poids l'existence brumeuse, Heureux celui qui peut d'une aile vigoureuse S'élancer vers les champs lumineux et sereins ; Celui dont les pensers, comme des alouettes, Vers les cieux le matin prennent un libre essor, – Qui plane sur la vie, et comprend sans effort Le langage des fleurs et des choses muettes !
Spleen et Idéal, III
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 06:38
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The Pharmacratic Inquisition

publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 06:36
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La Métamorphose est une nouvelle écrite par Kafka en 1912, alors que l'auteur, un simple fonctionnaire de Prague, était âgé de 29 ans. Ce récit, probablement le plus connu de Kafka, est également le plus énigmatique.Sur une centaine de pages, l'auteur nous fait la narration de la nouvelle vie de Grégoire Samsa, simple représentant de commerce qui s'est éveillé un beau matin "transformé en une véritable vermine". C'est à dire que Samsa est devenu un insecte humain. Etant la seule source de revenus ou presque de sa famille (ses 2 parents et sa soeur), il va devoir faire face aux difficultés que crée sa nouvelle situation, dont bien entendu l'impossibilité de toute vie sociale... et familiale.
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 06:27
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O'm over the ocean
Over the hills,
over the dell
Over the fireline
Over the sand,
over the plan
Over the empire
And if I belong, then I'll be longer than expected
And if I'm wrong, the mighty and strong will be rejected
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 06:25
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Terça-feira, 4 de Setembro de 2007

Brian Eno

BackwaterWe're Sailing At the Edges of TimeBackwaterWe're Drifting At the WaterlineOh We're Floating in the Coastal WatersYou and Me and the Porter's DaughtersOoh What to Do Not a Sausage to DoAnd the Shorter of the Porter's DaughtersDips Her Hand in the Deadly WatersOoh What to Do in a Tiny CanoeBlack WaterThere Were Six of Us But Now We Are FiveWe're All TalkingTo Keep the Conversation AliveThere Was a Senator From EcuadorWho Talked About a MeteorThat Crashed On a Hill in the South of PeruAnd Was Found By a ConquistadorWho Took It to the EmperorAnd He Passed It On to a Turkish Guru.His DaughterWas Slated For Becoming DivineHe Taught HerHe Taught Her How to Split and DefineBut If You Study the LogisticsAnd Heuristics of the MysticsYou Will Find That Their Minds Rarely Move in a LineSo It's Much More RealisticTo Abandon Such BallisticsAnd Resign to Be Trapped On a Leaf in a Vine.
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 09:55
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Irish Song

There's a tear in your eye,
And I'm wondering why,
For it never should be there at all.
With such pow'r in your smile,
Sure a stone you'd beguile,
So there's never a teardrop should fall.
When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song,
And your eyes twinkle bright as can be;
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile,
And now, smile a smile for me.
When Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring.
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.
When Irish hearts are happy,
All the world seems bright and gay.
And when Irish eyes are smiling,
Sure, they steal your heart away.
For your smile is a part
Of the love in your heart,
And it makes even sunshine more bright.
Like the linnet's sweet song,
Crooning all the day long,
Comes your laughter and light.
For the springtime of life
Is the sweetest of all
There is ne'er a real care or regret;
And while springtime is ours
Throughout all of youth's hours,
Let us smile each chance we get.
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 09:47
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Gregory Bateson

Um metadiálogo é uma conversa acerca de um assunto problemático

Que comuninicamos - dizem eles
publicado por Aufgang Luz Nebulosa às 09:42
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