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Monthly Archives: November 2012

Amas Veritas

Young Sally: “He will hear my call a mile away. He will whistle my favorite song. He can ride a pony backwards.”

Young Gillian: What are you doing?

Young Sally: Summoning up a true love spell called Amas Veritas. “He can flip pancakes in the air. He’ll be marvelously kind. And his favorite shape will be a star. And he’ll have one green eye and one blue.”

Young Gillian: Thought you never wanted to fall in love.

Young Sally: That’s the point. The guy I dreamed up doesn’t exist. And if he doesn’t exist, I’ll never die of a broken heart.

How many times in our lives do we kid ourselves and avoid going down a certain path thinking we can protect ourselves from getting hurt? And more important, can we? Can we really avoid breaking our hearts? Or are we just breaking them ourselves in the odd chance that someone else would do it?

Life is short. Live it. Jump in head first. Do what scares you the most. No excuses. No regrets.

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Don’t go far off

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

-Pablo Neruda

 
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Posted by on November 29, 2012 in Books Keep Me Alive, Poetry

 

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Christmas is just around the corner

And what is Christmas with a bit of music?

Remember when I talked about The Doo Wop Shop? Well, here’s another one of their videos.

Enjoy!

 

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2012 in Music Time

 

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Look! A giant guinea pig!

A day at the zoo with a 4-year-old:

Boy – Look! A giant guinea pig!

Me – Where? (Trying to see what was behind the capybara only to realize that that was the giant guinea pig he was referring to.)

The 120 lb animal now to be known as giant guinea pig.

I guess he’s right, capybaras do look like giant guinea pigs.

I’m not a 2 lb capybara, I swear.

And they are related, so…

 

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Monty Python and the Holy Grail – Three Questions

“There’s the old man from scene twenty-four.”

“What’s he doing here?”

Bridgekeeper: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Lancelot: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your name?
Sir Lancelot: My name is Sir Lancelot of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your quest?
Sir Lancelot: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your favourite colour?
Sir Lancelot: Blue.
Bridgekeeper: Go on. Off you go.
Sir Lancelot: Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

Sir Robin: That’s easy.
Bridgekeeper: Stop. Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.
Sir Robin: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I’m not afraid.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your name?
Sir Robin: Sir Robin of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your quest?
Sir Robin: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What… is the capital of Assyria?
[pause]
Sir Robin: I don’t know that.
[he is thrown over the edge into the volcano]
Sir Robin: Auuuuuuuugh.

Bridgekeeper: Stop. What… is your name?
Galahad: Sir Galahad of Camelot.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your quest?
Galahad: I seek the Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your favourite colour?
Galahad: Blue. No, yel…
[he is also thrown over the edge]
Galahad: auuuuuuuugh.

Bridgekeeper: Hee hee heh. Stop. What… is your name?
King Arthur: It is ‘Arthur’, King of the Britons.
Bridgekeeper: What… is your quest?
King Arthur: To seek the Holy Grail.
Bridgekeeper: What… is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?
King Arthur: What do you mean? An African or European swallow?
Bridgekeeper: Huh? I… I don’t know that.
[he is thrown over]
Bridgekeeper: Auuuuuuuugh.
Sir Bedevere: How do know so much about swallows?
King Arthur: Well, you have to know these things when you’re a king, you know.

 

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Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden

 
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Posted by on November 25, 2012 in Books Keep Me Alive, Poetry

 

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As soon as you stop wanting something…

The hard part is to sound convincing enough for long enough time so your mind will be tricked into believing you no longer want the thing you once wanted.

This is like when someone asks you not to think of an elephant. Your brain automatically forms an image of an elephant even before registering the fact that you’re not supposed to think of one.

Oy vey.

 

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