Vendredi 27 février 2009
5
27
/02
/2009
18:57
Intermediate is the level for this piece of joke. (Mr W.A. NYC helped me find the tone for the characters, I guess some Gerschwin piano might be the music) Imagine Casabianca, the sea, the german
army approaching, and of course, a love story, passion and hatred. You get a whole cargo for such a load of romantism. Inside, a man asks his wife : -"Honey, where is my pen? I just can't find this
dawn ..." -"Take look on your writing desk Darling..." "No, it's not!" Woman walks the flat in search of her husband: -"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen ?" -"Looking for the pen!" - "Look,
look at you, you've eaten all the ice creams, and the bananas." - "I, I need sugar!" - "Oh, you naughty boy! Get out of my kitchen!" - "But, my pen? " - " Go, and ask your friend, he said some
mosquitoes 've bitten him and asked me to get in and take some ice in the fridge. It's not five minute he's gone..." - "That's it. He's certainly taken it on my writing desk while he was in." -
"And please, stop eating the marshmallow, darling, please!" Directors are so funny. Many thanks to Pilot, wonderful pens for poetry.
Par Harbin
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Vendredi 27 février 2009
5
27
/02
/2009
17:00
Humor is certainly an art, that requires a master hand, not to become an insult or some dirty ugly drawing. Playing in the mud is a thing, asking galleries to show your sexy body's prints is
another. And sometimes, angels don't appreciate the way you treat them. Archangels, the same. Feathers are not to be spotted with the soils watered. An apology is to be given in that case, even if
I dislike the kind of beast the superior proposes me to kiss in return. I 'd rather kiss some mongolian horse, with its burning blood and his flying legs, than put a lip on one of thoses old asses
used to bear unliving chests. Thanks, not. Thanks for the black plate, against all odds, I would play my own record. You know, there are so many avatars, that I just can't dance with so many
fellows. Is it a Venitian Ball, or a Bergamasque? I do appreciate all the vehicules you provide me, the tigered , the spotted, the fauvismed ( go to Orsay for a new palette), but I go on folding
and looping with mine own. Now, ask the one third to go on with his observations of milky-ways (a chocolate bar addicted, might be);), I do appreciate. I am also fan of sugar and all the
surrounding products. Shall I go to Lyon, I'm not that sure that the place, even if there are great cookers there, would be the one I love best. And there is no seaside there, meaning no beach and
no dolphins. Newt neither. And going better (;). See you soon, on the moon.
Par Harbin
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Dimanche 15 février 2009
7
15
/02
/2009
21:41
We're a couple of swells, like Fred and Dear Mr Gable's penpal. Video games are sometimes more instructives about profiles than a M. Webster, which is quite a sum of words and would do himself.
So it happens to me, that, one of the beggars, not the one I'm used to talk with in the real life, but, he knows, he the spider of the net, the hobo, is quite an interesting profile. How old is
he, and his hobbies are no mysteries. It's so good to be wandering whereever we like. Nothing like the silence of infinite space and the spotlights of balnear stations lost in constellations.
People of the roads, passing by, folks like gypsies, speak the same language, made of rainy days, wild fruits and in their innercloth, the smell of dark burnt wood, they slept nearby, during the
whole night long. This one, I love, and shakes his hand. He baits me with the many volumae I love. Thank you, gentleman, your nickname is quite as good as Neville ... , isn't it , Dr
Watson? Wenesday, are your reading the volume of your uncle about Hurricane? Trout, maybe shall we take our wishbones and surf? Shake it, shake it...
Par Harbin
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Mardi 10 février 2009
2
10
/02
/2009
16:45
Once bitten, twice shy. Experience as the key to evolution and growth and as a logic in synaps connection. We love what provides pleasure and comfort, and dislike what is
hostile. Is it that simple? Be kind and I'll give you a candy, say parents to their children. Results are not the ones expected. And what if an adult is not fair. children disliking
injustice? Imagine you're transparent, meaning you can't do or think anything without it being perceived by Angels or your creator. Many chances you're given, and still,
you act like wild man. Civilisation was meant for this, precisly, giving the opportunity to live together, getting the best of mutual differences. ("hooked!",think a cynical man, before adding
he'll make a proposal that can't be refused...)
Love makes you tolerate and accept differences though you don't agree, in the name of combination and possible chemical reactions. Why are there religions and not only
one ? Yes, there is a superior being and yes it is goodwilling.
Now, let's imagine I'm a friar (not to be eaten, confusion sometimes) and fan of algebria. What would I do if could give an answer to everything? Second, where could I find the
second volume of Poetics? Third, you'd be welcome.
Par Harbin
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Mardi 10 février 2009
2
10
/02
/2009
14:42
Feeling the warm of a horse on your chest under a stormy day, there is nothing like it. Nothing like the perfect harmony between a rider and the marvel of the mare taking him
miles around. I fell in love with those beautiful creatures, maybe watching the story of a black stallion and a boy, maybe when I had my hand on the skin of a brown one while thoses big eyes told
me of the pride and the liberty. Riding learns you to see the world two meters and a half high, taking care of a horse gives you responsabilty, and softness. No force is required to ride. The
more you force, the more you're ejected from the back. Everett wrote a wonderful book about it.
And what about the shape? It's so much sensual, so much exciting, beyond the frontier of thinking. Horses and riders weaves extrarelationships, walkers can't understand. Greek
horses, I love, not because of Acheans, but might be the fourth in Venice. Alexander's are quite nice too. But Tang's are the most beautiful. Take a look a the running one on its bronze
swallow. Of course, Jackie brought hers in the house and natural nobless with them. Even on a black and white board their personal way elevates the players to different
approaches. No need to be a centaur, a mongol or an indian to understand the beauty of it and be astonished and definitely under their magical spell.
Par Harbin
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Jeudi 29 janvier 2009
4
29
/01
/2009
20:15
On the quays, I met many a fisherman, each one of them humble, quiet, having some tobacco in their pipes made of savage roots. And while we enjoyed the communauty of our peaceful silence, there
were always the captains from the inner lands, the ones disbarqued in our village to make a large show, within their sundays suits, their fine shoes and embroided caps. And they kept going on
with their stories of islands under sunny skies. One was an old guy fom Albion, another used to play cards in the casinos of the coast, another said he used to be a captain in the navy. And we
kept our mouth shut, smiling, fixing our nets. And since the first apostle of Christ turned to other fishing campaigns , there were those talking beggars, walking around. Ignoring the
most of sea and its inner sounds. Far from silence. And they kept on talking. And we kept on knotting. Letting them weave their dreams while we hold the wheel under the dark sky without
moon. Because, we, sailors are barrels of rum, sitten in smoky inns, meeting our gals by the g...
Par Harbin
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Jeudi 22 janvier 2009
4
22
/01
/2009
00:30
A teacher is a kind of human being engaged in the perpetual process of mutation. Those who stopped their chemical reaction in response to the world pheromons can't be teachers anymore. Teacher is
the one who opens a path, or as Plato with his precious art would say help mind to bear to new realities. But a teacher is also responsible for himself and his students and never should do more
than breeding minds. Forceps are unknown in teachers ways. Cesarian cuts also. Umberto, the eponym of my friend wrote than if he, Wilhem woud be aware of everything in this world, he'd certainly
teach theology in Paris. But he's not and for this perculiar reason he's certainly a wonderful teacher always in search, always in quest of answers to wonderful questions. Life is chemical, and
even in the darkest part of the universe, matter is in a state of transformation. As a teacher, I feel concerned with mutation because learning is a key to my own evolution and finally to ours.
Teachers are students of life taking out of libraries their students to get in touch with the universe.
Par Harbin
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Mercredi 21 janvier 2009
3
21
/01
/2009
02:47
Before or after Berkeley, Uncle Frank gave an interview, and explained that, when a lad, he once guessed all the cards of a game for a young girl, and doing so, once in his lifetime, made the
experience of some magic, apparently some divination. From this moment on, we can read in his works, the presence of auspice and reading.
How do we look at the world, do we often take a glance to the stars, the supernovae, exoplanets ? Are we still men, able to feel the meaning of life? Friends are people who hurt you, because
friends are true and want you to become another man than the one you are with your leakages. A friend of mine, who likes to read my notes, never forgets to let me share his feelings, his thoughts
about what I'm writing. I thank him. Where does he seat? I don't know. Why doesn't we eat together? I don't know either. But, the more he writes me, the more I love him. What love is that?
Agape , it is. Not that he wants me to be converted to his views, but just makes me think of his views, and grants me the access to a larger part of the human sight. And for this help, I
owe him more than he can guess. Next, he'll keep on providing me his booknotes. And I'll keep on waiting for the titles of the books he's chosen for me. Let's call him Umberto, because it's a
nice first name for such a maze master.
Par Harbin
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Mardi 20 janvier 2009
2
20
/01
/2009
19:11
We've overcome, Martin promised it and forty years later, the dream has come true, and from every state we can hear the bell ring for the freedom is and will be for the days to come. The
fear is forgotten, and hope is back, hope and determination to make the world a better place, where each man and woman , in every nation sharing the air of such a small planet, will live as
brother and sister and join hands. And Dr King Jr be blessed, sing together! This is a message sent to the whole world and good news given to all the goodwillings, from now on, time has
come for change and whether they be alone or gathered, people of the Liberty will be side to side every day. It's a renewal, like once more, becoming a child and shaking hands with pals. Coretta,
Jack and Bob, it's great day, a greatday for America, and Humanity!
Par Harbin
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