I don't necessarily agree with everything I say.
Marshall McLuhan (1911 - 1980)
ponedjeljak, 28. veljače 2011.
nedjelja, 27. veljače 2011.
Tired With All These.. (1 More on Local Politics)
Shakespeare's sonnet can teach us things were never ever right.
As a period drama series in Croatia put it: there are always those that consent, those that oppose, and those that wait. And even this is a more than perfect model.
The choice is I think more visceral than conscious but a moment could be profitably given to the advantages of acquiescing. The party line does offer the quickest route from point to point.
A large majority of people are, I think, completely unable to imagine different worlds. SF is actually the closest they get - as to norms and values, they cannot see through them. And this is precisely the first great lesson the social sciences teach. Everything social is a construct, and a malleable one.
But nothing beats good old interest. For the sake of personal gain, man shall suffer greatest ignominy against his fellow man. And en route convince him he is to be blamed in the first place.
Wrongs are also instinctively felt. They pile up; the skunk must leave its den. It is, however, worth remembering there are no monoliths. Croatia is no exception. It seems petty bourgeois owners are content, refusing to comprehend the discontent - after all, it must be students' or peasants' fault.
As a period drama series in Croatia put it: there are always those that consent, those that oppose, and those that wait. And even this is a more than perfect model.
The choice is I think more visceral than conscious but a moment could be profitably given to the advantages of acquiescing. The party line does offer the quickest route from point to point.
A large majority of people are, I think, completely unable to imagine different worlds. SF is actually the closest they get - as to norms and values, they cannot see through them. And this is precisely the first great lesson the social sciences teach. Everything social is a construct, and a malleable one.
But nothing beats good old interest. For the sake of personal gain, man shall suffer greatest ignominy against his fellow man. And en route convince him he is to be blamed in the first place.
Wrongs are also instinctively felt. They pile up; the skunk must leave its den. It is, however, worth remembering there are no monoliths. Croatia is no exception. It seems petty bourgeois owners are content, refusing to comprehend the discontent - after all, it must be students' or peasants' fault.
subota, 26. veljače 2011.
Even&Fair
Today we had demonstrations proper. Though every sane individual is against violence, there is ample evidence throughout history people resort to it when they are - hungry.
It is difficult to explain to a foreigner what this is about. The war, never a question of black and white, engendered half-wits whose prerogative it was to steal, under the auspices of the new president - who was the first to start. And now, the issues exarcebated by the incompetence of administration, moreover - administration geared at incompetence, there is no money left. Only debts. This, in a nutshell, is what's going on.
But though I am against violence, I am not against just revenge. I really do believe property should be seized, the ruling party outlawed, prominent people put on trial. People who do nothing and receive their salaries must be fired and petty mechanics of local power shamed.
Having no illusions of grandeur either, I don't quite think the West deals with us - we are more of an isolated backwater. However, their politicans tacitly championed HDZ during these twenty years. It takes one to know one. When I was a kid, I used to think somebody must rescue us beneath all those shells. Recently I saw a movie with Bill Murray starring as a crooked mayor. The kids in the film discover somebody is stealing food and, of course, rush to tell him.
Somewhat older now, one would feel tempted to write All Quiet on the Western Front, if only it hadn't already been tried.
It is difficult to explain to a foreigner what this is about. The war, never a question of black and white, engendered half-wits whose prerogative it was to steal, under the auspices of the new president - who was the first to start. And now, the issues exarcebated by the incompetence of administration, moreover - administration geared at incompetence, there is no money left. Only debts. This, in a nutshell, is what's going on.
But though I am against violence, I am not against just revenge. I really do believe property should be seized, the ruling party outlawed, prominent people put on trial. People who do nothing and receive their salaries must be fired and petty mechanics of local power shamed.
Having no illusions of grandeur either, I don't quite think the West deals with us - we are more of an isolated backwater. However, their politicans tacitly championed HDZ during these twenty years. It takes one to know one. When I was a kid, I used to think somebody must rescue us beneath all those shells. Recently I saw a movie with Bill Murray starring as a crooked mayor. The kids in the film discover somebody is stealing food and, of course, rush to tell him.
Somewhat older now, one would feel tempted to write All Quiet on the Western Front, if only it hadn't already been tried.
petak, 25. veljače 2011.
Warts and All
I have a slight toothache. On the other hand, the snow-icy rain blizzard is still raging and I find solace in the elements. If it is true we don't write when excited, the same is, I guess, true for pain. The ideal mindscape might just very well be neutralish boredom. By the way, in psychoanalysis they refer to the above as the need for "optimum frustration". It always made me think how concepts are so easy to grasp but so inapplicable.
But this might also be an opportunity to reflect on the writing method. I am not talking about formal elements here, such as effective endings: what I mean is I mostly just start writing. And it is amazing how the process whisks you away indeed, with a surprisingly minor number of revisions and corrections.
The other thing is sort of of meta-writing nature: the writer, no matter what he writes, will say what he wants to say. It is just the surface element that changes. To see things in things: the identical source of both wisdom and madness.
I think I'll go for a glass of red wine. Thick and strong, yessir! As a friend says: takes the edge of.
But this might also be an opportunity to reflect on the writing method. I am not talking about formal elements here, such as effective endings: what I mean is I mostly just start writing. And it is amazing how the process whisks you away indeed, with a surprisingly minor number of revisions and corrections.
The other thing is sort of of meta-writing nature: the writer, no matter what he writes, will say what he wants to say. It is just the surface element that changes. To see things in things: the identical source of both wisdom and madness.
I think I'll go for a glass of red wine. Thick and strong, yessir! As a friend says: takes the edge of.
Sounds Like a Plan to Me
We are smack in the middle of a windstorm. As I live on the fourth floor, the gusts are overbearing. I doubt there will be much social life in Dubrovnik these days as the winter usually brings living room mode for most people ever since VHS even when it's mild. But it's good to know the delivery services still work - have just received a book by a professor of mine, entitled "Naples and Other Imaginary Places".
As the blurb has it, the book is full of "simply freightening knowledge". It is a combination of small pieces on walking the dog, an overview of reading in form of essays and critique of the current university reform. The flap glorifies the socialist system that gave time to think, "not because the system was smart but because it was sloppy". The claim is the US-like system nowadays just does not produce individuals who can think - or have the time to read Montaigne.
And if you look through the history of letters you will find innumerable tributes to leisure. My favourite is a little text called "The Superannuated Man", a tale by a recently retired man who finally found freedom.
My calendar is bare until the start of next month. There's not much I can do, but nothing I must.
As the blurb has it, the book is full of "simply freightening knowledge". It is a combination of small pieces on walking the dog, an overview of reading in form of essays and critique of the current university reform. The flap glorifies the socialist system that gave time to think, "not because the system was smart but because it was sloppy". The claim is the US-like system nowadays just does not produce individuals who can think - or have the time to read Montaigne.
And if you look through the history of letters you will find innumerable tributes to leisure. My favourite is a little text called "The Superannuated Man", a tale by a recently retired man who finally found freedom.
My calendar is bare until the start of next month. There's not much I can do, but nothing I must.
četvrtak, 24. veljače 2011.
Rut: A Face-off. An Invitation.
Sometimes one hears interesting urban myths of individuals who go to buy cigarettes, only to abandon everything and never return.
The same could be applied to tourism or instant adventure. After all, what's holding you back? Only the whole society and how it's constituted - we are settlers, even though there are examples of nomads in travel writing and the world.
But, more importantly, what's day-to-day living like for you? I have to say, I tried different modes, ranging from current uneployment to highly paid oil company rat race with impulsed flying to Berlin, London or Amsterdam for weekends. I would never again trade for something dull. I'd actually prefer anything modest but worthwhile.
And, judging from my translation tasks - that actually cover a panopticum of different professions - dull is everywhere. Society is definitely not high up on the ladder of creativity OR productivity.
Well, the summer of 2011 is closing in. They say it's going to be massive over here indeed, especially due to unrest in Africa and Greece. How about coffee and cigarettes? I never quit.
The same could be applied to tourism or instant adventure. After all, what's holding you back? Only the whole society and how it's constituted - we are settlers, even though there are examples of nomads in travel writing and the world.
But, more importantly, what's day-to-day living like for you? I have to say, I tried different modes, ranging from current uneployment to highly paid oil company rat race with impulsed flying to Berlin, London or Amsterdam for weekends. I would never again trade for something dull. I'd actually prefer anything modest but worthwhile.
And, judging from my translation tasks - that actually cover a panopticum of different professions - dull is everywhere. Society is definitely not high up on the ladder of creativity OR productivity.
Well, the summer of 2011 is closing in. They say it's going to be massive over here indeed, especially due to unrest in Africa and Greece. How about coffee and cigarettes? I never quit.
Route Explained
Dear Reader,
As I am about to wrap up my study of tourism, travelling and travel writing, a warning is due that, apart from the incidental and the personal, my further blog posts will probably concentrate around my next exams on Phonetics of Poetry, Acting Techniques and Virginia Woolf and Feminism. Finally, my thesis will be on small places, as seen through conformism and shame. A full year it is: 365-odd exercise posts remembered. (Goffman actually wrote a darling title called Stigma - I have incorporated.)
This is what my friends call my hyper-ventilating what I read. They will be thankful for the internet.
As I am about to wrap up my study of tourism, travelling and travel writing, a warning is due that, apart from the incidental and the personal, my further blog posts will probably concentrate around my next exams on Phonetics of Poetry, Acting Techniques and Virginia Woolf and Feminism. Finally, my thesis will be on small places, as seen through conformism and shame. A full year it is: 365-odd exercise posts remembered. (Goffman actually wrote a darling title called Stigma - I have incorporated.)
This is what my friends call my hyper-ventilating what I read. They will be thankful for the internet.
srijeda, 23. veljače 2011.
How to Talk to Locals: A Contemporary Summary
Goffman, the sociologist, proves to be an interesting discovery. His analysis of the front and back regions, emulated by bankers with their back office, situates modern man within performance and authenticity, as ideal categories of course. The roundabout way of my coming there, through tourism, offers further complexity in the form of the back region now being staged for tourists, e.g. a taverna with fishing nets.
It seems to me the issue is connected to contemporary avoidance of direct contact. Society is increasingly becoming voyeuristic and ready-made so such routes are positively discouraged. That is, direct contact, in every possible sense, is the most labour intensive contact. Check FAQ first. It is noteworthy that, in ancient times, when an individual wrote to another asking spiritual direction, the helper was culturally obliged to help. Today if one accosts a stranger, he/she is considered an absolute nut.
A further result of shunning the traditional is a sort of a devaulation of reality. If we cannot find the authentic as tourists or are overwhelmed by culturally produced images and experiences, we feel less real or inadequate.
"The [intellectual] idea is that a false back region is more insiduous than a false front". And the outcome is superficial, and more than that.
Well, this, more or less, is the academic view. I find the most revealing facet to be the statement that real experience is, more often than not, random and contains an element of surprise. And it usually takes a lifetime.
It seems to me the issue is connected to contemporary avoidance of direct contact. Society is increasingly becoming voyeuristic and ready-made so such routes are positively discouraged. That is, direct contact, in every possible sense, is the most labour intensive contact. Check FAQ first. It is noteworthy that, in ancient times, when an individual wrote to another asking spiritual direction, the helper was culturally obliged to help. Today if one accosts a stranger, he/she is considered an absolute nut.
A further result of shunning the traditional is a sort of a devaulation of reality. If we cannot find the authentic as tourists or are overwhelmed by culturally produced images and experiences, we feel less real or inadequate.
"The [intellectual] idea is that a false back region is more insiduous than a false front". And the outcome is superficial, and more than that.
Well, this, more or less, is the academic view. I find the most revealing facet to be the statement that real experience is, more often than not, random and contains an element of surprise. And it usually takes a lifetime.
An End in Sight?
We have finally had demonstrating in Croatia. On a very limited and small scale, reflecting the saying of a friend we are capable but of farts in front of TV.
But, reading again today, I stumbled upon the sentence to the effect that "a long, protracted, unsuccessful revolution is the worst that can befall society".
And, indeed, this country is used to conformism; it is its second nature. People opt for less paid but safe administration jobs, for instance, or use contacts to secure employment for their kid, in the old-school manner - and then grumble all is not well.
Recently revivied is the perennial fad that youngsters' behaviour is appalling. But the previous generation is to be directly blamed for this. They offer no role model and can even be pronounced to be extremely unsuccessful in their naive "let's play some capitalism" game.
But perhaps the worst is the fact that each would accept the same rules if to own benefit. It is not the sense of what's wrong that is the inspiration behind the discontent - it's the personal failure of many.
But, reading again today, I stumbled upon the sentence to the effect that "a long, protracted, unsuccessful revolution is the worst that can befall society".
And, indeed, this country is used to conformism; it is its second nature. People opt for less paid but safe administration jobs, for instance, or use contacts to secure employment for their kid, in the old-school manner - and then grumble all is not well.
Recently revivied is the perennial fad that youngsters' behaviour is appalling. But the previous generation is to be directly blamed for this. They offer no role model and can even be pronounced to be extremely unsuccessful in their naive "let's play some capitalism" game.
But perhaps the worst is the fact that each would accept the same rules if to own benefit. It is not the sense of what's wrong that is the inspiration behind the discontent - it's the personal failure of many.
utorak, 22. veljače 2011.
Further Thoughts after Reading on Travel Writing, In&Out the Same Way
The characteristic trait of post-1930 travel writing is ever increasing retreat inside the psyche of the narrator, bearing the traits of the fragmented, tormented and exiled world, as well as, in later times, blurring of the travelogue between the divide of fact vs. fiction.
In former case, G. Green, for example, is touring Africa and declares the jungle boring but: "Never mind, let me tell you about my childhood and childhood per se"..
Well, let me tell you about my childhood. There is a forwarded mail joke about the "Seven Wonders of Yugoslavia". None worked or had any money but miraculously everybody had everything. The picture was not that rosy - after all I blame the then regime for this one. But it is true I had never seen a homeless person during my entire childhood or adolescence or somebody digging through trash. The other day I watched Zeitgeist 3, and the research some character presented indicates all parametres are better in a more equal society: better health for instance. This also led to reflecting on just how deeply engrained the western ideology is too - and what exactly would all those hordes of business administrators, marketing gurus or the likes do after the change they advocate?
True, during my early days we, Yugoslavs, rarely travelled. Not much has changed - even today, we serve lobsters, not eat them.
And to go back to the final outer layer of the post - there is another category of contemporary travel writing which my survey doesn't mention: travel writing not as an inner psychological journey but as humour. Just think of Bill Bryson, ever after a wisecrack or two. Must be another sign o' the times.
In former case, G. Green, for example, is touring Africa and declares the jungle boring but: "Never mind, let me tell you about my childhood and childhood per se"..
Well, let me tell you about my childhood. There is a forwarded mail joke about the "Seven Wonders of Yugoslavia". None worked or had any money but miraculously everybody had everything. The picture was not that rosy - after all I blame the then regime for this one. But it is true I had never seen a homeless person during my entire childhood or adolescence or somebody digging through trash. The other day I watched Zeitgeist 3, and the research some character presented indicates all parametres are better in a more equal society: better health for instance. This also led to reflecting on just how deeply engrained the western ideology is too - and what exactly would all those hordes of business administrators, marketing gurus or the likes do after the change they advocate?
True, during my early days we, Yugoslavs, rarely travelled. Not much has changed - even today, we serve lobsters, not eat them.
And to go back to the final outer layer of the post - there is another category of contemporary travel writing which my survey doesn't mention: travel writing not as an inner psychological journey but as humour. Just think of Bill Bryson, ever after a wisecrack or two. Must be another sign o' the times.
ponedjeljak, 21. veljače 2011.
Hush..
I recently discovered, in an ancient dream book, that Romans knew some psychoanalysis, i.e. dreams were seen both as omens and as "ingenious tricks our mind plays upon us". It is a commonplace of Freud that what we dream is actually disguised. The man referred to dreams as "the royal path to the unconscious".
Got a friend who loves to dream. He also experiences dreams as mental snippets of what usually actually happens tomorrow, in thinly disguised form as well. Coming back to own, I once dreamed I was reading newspapers - and every article was highly surprising. Something is also to be made of the fact we always wake up before the dream becomes too alarming, or revealing.
Omens, visions or whatever reprocessing, nobody knows what dreams are. They are real though - real enough to wake one up and make you think in the dead of the night. In awe, the word combining admiration, reverence and fear. The secret safe, I can merely conclude I missed catching my tail again.
Got a friend who loves to dream. He also experiences dreams as mental snippets of what usually actually happens tomorrow, in thinly disguised form as well. Coming back to own, I once dreamed I was reading newspapers - and every article was highly surprising. Something is also to be made of the fact we always wake up before the dream becomes too alarming, or revealing.
Omens, visions or whatever reprocessing, nobody knows what dreams are. They are real though - real enough to wake one up and make you think in the dead of the night. In awe, the word combining admiration, reverence and fear. The secret safe, I can merely conclude I missed catching my tail again.
nedjelja, 20. veljače 2011.
Nice & Slow
The net is frantic, a frenzy that can be compared well with the high season months of July and August. There are usually swarms of people milling about the town, exuding restlessness. I remember a particularly funny incident when a friend and me run into a couple of spruced up girls, him commenting: "She expects much from the evening".
And it's the same on Twitter. I added a few 'influential' TW generators the other day, and sure enough, I'm not even done reading the preceding afternoon posts, there are already new cries.
So one can deal exclusively with the virtual world, adding new sites, commenting upon and interlinking. Many strive consciously to become net celebrities.
I would be content with a virtual public existence if it provided for the Robinsonian part of my soul. I always go for secluded beaches, empty cafes and imagine my own cottage by a brook. I don't event have to mention the dream vacation of lighthouse accommodation available over here or simple gang fishing trips that I can actually make real for literally nothing. I often indulge in tirades how mobile phones are inherently sick, and quote a passage I read somewhere on medieval folk finding the belfry clock "too strict".
Happiness is a tricky thing and must be amalgamated. As Zizek said in a lecture I attended: "The happiest people in the world were Slovaks in 70s because two fundamental requirements were met: they were in opposition, and there was neither a far nor too near country where people were said to be better off".
With a blind eye to Our Town, I go for the quiet today.
And it's the same on Twitter. I added a few 'influential' TW generators the other day, and sure enough, I'm not even done reading the preceding afternoon posts, there are already new cries.
So one can deal exclusively with the virtual world, adding new sites, commenting upon and interlinking. Many strive consciously to become net celebrities.
I would be content with a virtual public existence if it provided for the Robinsonian part of my soul. I always go for secluded beaches, empty cafes and imagine my own cottage by a brook. I don't event have to mention the dream vacation of lighthouse accommodation available over here or simple gang fishing trips that I can actually make real for literally nothing. I often indulge in tirades how mobile phones are inherently sick, and quote a passage I read somewhere on medieval folk finding the belfry clock "too strict".
Happiness is a tricky thing and must be amalgamated. As Zizek said in a lecture I attended: "The happiest people in the world were Slovaks in 70s because two fundamental requirements were met: they were in opposition, and there was neither a far nor too near country where people were said to be better off".
With a blind eye to Our Town, I go for the quiet today.
subota, 19. veljače 2011.
You Must be Over 18 to Read This Entry
Well, got a friend coming over today from the other side of the globe.
They say habits are physically ingrained in our brains, and - true - we have never been able to abstain when together, the vice we picked up during our high school days.
By now we have a fair share of ludicrous anecdotes, while the measure seems to be different times someone smoked with the wrong butt end in his mouth. My favourites are our stupid stares at this giant wave that was slowly coming toward us, us unable to organise retreat, or the time when we went to "this other cloak room girl", only to find a mirror.
We have adopted different grown-up content, like restaurants, theatre, concert halls, spa or simply travelling - still, can't help dissipation. Must be an Eastern European thing. What could be pronouced a problem, we simply refer to as wrecking. "I helluva wrecked myself yesterday".
And I'm actually breaking silence here: youngsters usually brag - we keep our dignity even when taking an ordinary leak proves to be an adventure.
Hangover, the movie, sums it up, and proves this to be an almost universal experience. In case you're arriving to Dubrovnik today, yes, we are ready to depart.
They say habits are physically ingrained in our brains, and - true - we have never been able to abstain when together, the vice we picked up during our high school days.
By now we have a fair share of ludicrous anecdotes, while the measure seems to be different times someone smoked with the wrong butt end in his mouth. My favourites are our stupid stares at this giant wave that was slowly coming toward us, us unable to organise retreat, or the time when we went to "this other cloak room girl", only to find a mirror.
We have adopted different grown-up content, like restaurants, theatre, concert halls, spa or simply travelling - still, can't help dissipation. Must be an Eastern European thing. What could be pronouced a problem, we simply refer to as wrecking. "I helluva wrecked myself yesterday".
And I'm actually breaking silence here: youngsters usually brag - we keep our dignity even when taking an ordinary leak proves to be an adventure.
Hangover, the movie, sums it up, and proves this to be an almost universal experience. In case you're arriving to Dubrovnik today, yes, we are ready to depart.
petak, 18. veljače 2011.
A Fair Proposal
The usual prejudice against citizens of USA is they're dumb. To make amends to the sensitive, I'll say I know their top education is the best worldwide.
However, their Gvmt is seen as all-controlling and all but all-knowing. The leaks actually exposed there is not that much to know; after all, if you were paid to read all the bloody papers and talk to local cronies - perhaps you'd come up with better reports.
However, I can't somehow get rid of the paradox that I'm sure my Gvmt is dumb and yet - Croatians usually consider themselves fairly smart. The country is in shambles but we'll muster all that local intelligence. (The difference between First and Third world is explained well in the Terminal: "..and you'll see why Uncle Sam wipes his ass with three-ply..")
In fact, I reckon if you asked the regular Ivo (that would be John, or Joe, actually) - he would posit himself between the degenerate Americans and the tribal Albanians. Of course, he is then in no better situation because, as we know, it is highly suspect you're the sole sane one.
"The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we have of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think about us", declareth Quentin Crisp. And wisely.
Let's talk in terms of individuals. And ideas. As for our nations, as for ignominy, let's not.
However, their Gvmt is seen as all-controlling and all but all-knowing. The leaks actually exposed there is not that much to know; after all, if you were paid to read all the bloody papers and talk to local cronies - perhaps you'd come up with better reports.
However, I can't somehow get rid of the paradox that I'm sure my Gvmt is dumb and yet - Croatians usually consider themselves fairly smart. The country is in shambles but we'll muster all that local intelligence. (The difference between First and Third world is explained well in the Terminal: "..and you'll see why Uncle Sam wipes his ass with three-ply..")
In fact, I reckon if you asked the regular Ivo (that would be John, or Joe, actually) - he would posit himself between the degenerate Americans and the tribal Albanians. Of course, he is then in no better situation because, as we know, it is highly suspect you're the sole sane one.
"The very purpose of existence is to reconcile the glowing opinion we have of ourselves with the appalling things that other people think about us", declareth Quentin Crisp. And wisely.
Let's talk in terms of individuals. And ideas. As for our nations, as for ignominy, let's not.
Sense @ Sensibility
I left my contrastive dictionary of proverbs in Zagreb, so I am now not sure whether English has an equivalent of the cat liking caresses "but down its hair".
My teacher in a course on postmodernism often repeats the fact of the age - apparently when Romans used "there's no arguing about taste" what they meant was - "Naturally. Because we all know what good taste is. It's the taste of the few, who have seen the world." Today it's mostly taken to imply the democratic levelling of the thing.
There is actually a book by a Spaniard on the topic. "The Revolt of the Masses" was written sometime around 1920s. (I am a prole child; the richest felt the phenomenon first.)
I have no real worries about the fate of art but I have also often voiced my complaint how everything seems to boil down to joke nowadays. An installation can be a more or less clever joke, true, but most often than not it is to be joked with.
Here's mine: an entangled piece of long rope. I call it "Culture".
My teacher in a course on postmodernism often repeats the fact of the age - apparently when Romans used "there's no arguing about taste" what they meant was - "Naturally. Because we all know what good taste is. It's the taste of the few, who have seen the world." Today it's mostly taken to imply the democratic levelling of the thing.
There is actually a book by a Spaniard on the topic. "The Revolt of the Masses" was written sometime around 1920s. (I am a prole child; the richest felt the phenomenon first.)
I have no real worries about the fate of art but I have also often voiced my complaint how everything seems to boil down to joke nowadays. An installation can be a more or less clever joke, true, but most often than not it is to be joked with.
Here's mine: an entangled piece of long rope. I call it "Culture".
Silicon Dreams
I did translate some 8-odd pages today, and a poem, but was, still, highly unproductive. Given that I spent the entire day home, the real, effective work effort boils down to 5 hours maximum.
The morning was devoured by late sleeping, two bouts of coffee spells and a search for swimming trunks on the net. As an aside, they're mostly kitsch. The rest went on FB like buttons and embedding images in Gmail messages!!
It's simply amazing the amounts of time I can squander staring at the screen and clicking, while I still cannot decide whether it's relaxing or extremely tiring. (The only solace I find in the near planned outing to the end of this peninsula nearby.) Well, now everything's interconnected and designed.
But as a dear friend observed: "You'll have to work real hard till someone the likes of you earns some likes".
The morning was devoured by late sleeping, two bouts of coffee spells and a search for swimming trunks on the net. As an aside, they're mostly kitsch. The rest went on FB like buttons and embedding images in Gmail messages!!
It's simply amazing the amounts of time I can squander staring at the screen and clicking, while I still cannot decide whether it's relaxing or extremely tiring. (The only solace I find in the near planned outing to the end of this peninsula nearby.) Well, now everything's interconnected and designed.
But as a dear friend observed: "You'll have to work real hard till someone the likes of you earns some likes".
četvrtak, 17. veljače 2011.
Mrtva luka (DEAD PORT by Dobrisa Cesaric. translated by Davor Juricic)
This I know: there is a dead port
That whoever might prowl
Will hear the morning owl
And see a tired boat.
There, ships forever dream
Of how great sailing would be
But their anchors rest keen
In shallows of the sea.
They look at happiness with zeal,
But are afraid to go past.
They rig colour flags on the mast
- And are still.
Croatian version at http://www.ezgeta.com/mrtva.html
One of my favs!
That whoever might prowl
Will hear the morning owl
And see a tired boat.
There, ships forever dream
Of how great sailing would be
But their anchors rest keen
In shallows of the sea.
They look at happiness with zeal,
But are afraid to go past.
They rig colour flags on the mast
- And are still.
Croatian version at http://www.ezgeta.com/mrtva.html
One of my favs!
srijeda, 16. veljače 2011.
Eccentrics
Yes, TV ruined everything. Okay, before TV there were other media, back to the tell-tale.
This Victorian lady that ventured into Africa (from the same travel writing history title) apparently had a "father who was more interested in insects than pursuing his medical profession".
Indeed, how many eccentrics does any village harbour? We are used to them being dipicted in series or movies - but do we recognise them in actual life?
Next time you run into somebody mildly odd, pay attention. You might be getting the real thing.
This Victorian lady that ventured into Africa (from the same travel writing history title) apparently had a "father who was more interested in insects than pursuing his medical profession".
Indeed, how many eccentrics does any village harbour? We are used to them being dipicted in series or movies - but do we recognise them in actual life?
Next time you run into somebody mildly odd, pay attention. You might be getting the real thing.
Modelling
Nope, it's not about fashion.
One of more interesting concepts I have lately found in a book by a Hartford English professor on conformism is called modelling (this is actually what I have to rehearse about: conformism is such an archetypal force present, and my thesis is on small places, where it is seen best).
One of more interesting concepts I have lately found in a book by a Hartford English professor on conformism is called modelling (this is actually what I have to rehearse about: conformism is such an archetypal force present, and my thesis is on small places, where it is seen best).
What is modelling and why is it important? The way you pose a problem, or - say - the way you erect the foundations of a text at e.g. Wiki, will have repercussions on the ones that answer/read/write after you have written. Unless they completely redraft.
"Angry at Metaphors"
This was what my FB status the other day said.
Recoursing once more to travel, i.e. colonisation (for this is what the present exam is about, plus tourism and the paraphernalia), "white, middle-class and male" Europeans compared themselves with the natives "found" and decided they reflected the dawn of humanity.
Which is to say - the natives are LIKE what we used to be.
Nothing could be more false. The metaphor, or comparison, is such a falsity. Nothing, indeed, nothing is like anything else. It's of course nice that somebody is thinking and drawing parallel lines, but this ridicules the complexity.
Her lips are like a red rose. Give me a break.
Recoursing once more to travel, i.e. colonisation (for this is what the present exam is about, plus tourism and the paraphernalia), "white, middle-class and male" Europeans compared themselves with the natives "found" and decided they reflected the dawn of humanity.
Which is to say - the natives are LIKE what we used to be.
Nothing could be more false. The metaphor, or comparison, is such a falsity. Nothing, indeed, nothing is like anything else. It's of course nice that somebody is thinking and drawing parallel lines, but this ridicules the complexity.
Her lips are like a red rose. Give me a break.
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