Προσωπικο ημερολόγιο μαζί με διάφορες σκέψεις
Παρασκευή 30 Νοεμβρίου 2012
ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 29/11/2012
Bottle of Wine
For all of us who are married, were married, wish you were married, or wish you weren't married, this is something to smile about the next time you open a bottle of wine.
Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road. As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride.
With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car. Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.
"What's in the bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. got it for my husband." The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said, "Good trade."
Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo woman walking on the side of the road. As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked the Navajo woman if she would like a ride.
With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car. Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally.
"What's in the bag?" asked the old woman.
Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, "It's a bottle of wine. got it for my husband." The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said, "Good trade."
Senior Breakfast
We went to breakfast at a restaurant where the "seniors' special" was two eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for $1.99.
"Sounds good," my wife said. "But I don't want the eggs." "Then I'll have to charge you two dollars and forty-nine cents because you're ordering a la carte," the waitress warned her. "You mean I'd have to pay for not taking the eggs?" My wife asked incredulously. "I'll take the special." "How do you want your eggs?" "Raw and in the shell," my wife replied. She took the two eggs home. |
Squirrel Quarrel
Two little squirrels were walking along in the forest. The first one spied a nut and cried out, "Oh, look! A nut!"
The second squirrel jumped on it and said, "It's my nut!" The first squirrel said, "That's not fair! I saw it first!" "Well, you may have seen it, but I have it," argued the second. At that point, a lawyer squirrel came up and said, "You shouldn't quarrel. Let me resolve this dispute." The two squirrels nodded, and the lawyer squirrel said, "Now, give me the nut." He broke the nut in half, and handed half to each squirrel, saying, "See! It was foolish of you to fight. Now the dispute is resolved." Then he reached over and said, "And for my fee, I'll take the meat."
"Under The Sea"
A number of Primary Schools were doing a project on "The Sea." Kids were asked to draw pictures or write about their experiences. Teachers got together to compare the results and put together some of the comments. Here are some of them -- the funny ones. The kids were all aged between 5 and 8 years...
If you are surrounded by sea you are an Island. If you don't have sea all round you, you are in continent. (Wayne age 7) I think sharks are ugly and mean, and have big teeth, just like Emily Richardson. She's not my friend any more. (Kylie age 6) A dolphin breaths through an a**hole on the top of its head. (Billy age 8) When ships had sails, they used to use the trade winds to cross the ocean. Sometimes, when the wind didn't blow, the sailors would whistle to make the wind come. My brother said they would be better off eating beans. (William age 7) I like mermaids. They are beautiful, and I like their shiny tails. How do mermaids get pregnant? (Helen age 6) Some fish are dangerous. Jelly fish can sting. Electric eels can give you a shock. They have to live in caves under the sea where I think they have to plug themselves into chargers. (Christopher age 7) On holiday my Mom went water skiing. She fell off when she was going very fast. She says she won't do it again because water shot up her fanny. (Julie age 7 ) |
Όταν ο Θεός μοίραζε τον κόσμο… (Ρώσικο ανέκδοτο για την …Ελλάδα!)
Όταν ο Θεός μοίραζε τον κόσμο… (Ρώσικο ανέκδοτο για την …Ελλάδα!)
Αναρτήθηκε από τον/την olympiada στο Νοεμβρίου 30, 2012
Αυτό το ανέκδοτο το είπε ο πρέσβυς της (τότε) Σοβιετικής Ένωσης στην τηλεόραση. Κυκλοφορεί πολύ στη Ρωσία.
O Θεός και οι Έλληνες
Όταν ο Θεός μοίραζε τον κόσμο, είπε σε όλους τους λαούς που είχε φτιάξει να περάσουν μέσα στη βδομάδα να διαλέξουν μια χώρα να κατοικήσουν.
“Δέχομαι μέχρι το Σαββάτο” τους ξεκαθάρισε. “Την Κυριακή θα ξεκουράζομαι”.
Δευτέρα πρωί έτρεξαν και στήθηκαν στην ουρά οι Γερμανοί. Την πρώτη μέρα της προθεσμίας. Κι έτσι τους έδωσε μια ωραία και μεγάλη χώρα στην καρδιά της Ευρώπης.
Μετά από λίγο ήρθαν οι Κινέζοι. Ομοιόμορφα ντυμένοι και σε παράταξη. Ήταν μπόλικοι και τους έδωσε την Κίνα.
Την Τρίτη οι Γάλλοι, οι Ιταλοί, οι Άγγλοι, οι Πορτογάλοι, οι Σουηδοί, οι Αμερικάνοι, οι Καναδοί. Πήραν όλοι από μια χώρα.
Τετάρτη όλοι οι Αφρικανοί με τα πολύχρωμα ρούχα τους. Τους έδωσε ολόκληρη την όμορφη Αφρική και τους είπε να τη μοιραστούν.
Την Πέμπτη πήγαν οι Aβορίγινες. Τους έδωσε την Αυστραλία.
Την Παρασκευή, αφού τέλειωσαν με τη γραφειοκρατία, πήγαν οι Ρώσοι. Αφού είδαν τι πήραν οι άλλοι, συμφωνήσαν και πήραν την παγωμένη αλλά πανέμορφη Ρωσία.
Το Σαββάτο ήρθαν όλες οι υπόλοιπες φυλές και έθνη και πήραν ό,τι περίσσεψε.
Το Σάββατο βράδυ, αργά, έφτασαν οι Τσιγγάνοι με όλα τους τα παιδιά. Ο Θεός τους είπε ότι άργησαν πολύ και δεν είχε μείνει τίποτα. Ήταν και πολλοί, που να τους βάλει; Παρ’ όλα αυτά, επειδή ήταν μέσα στην προθεσμία, τους επέτρεψε να πάνε σε όποια χώρα θέλουν και να μείνουν με τους κατοίκους της. Κι έτσι απλώθηκαν παντού.
Την Κυριακή ο Θεός κάθισε να αναπαυθεί ευχαριστημένος. Κατά το απογευματάκι βλέπει έξω από την πόρτα του ένα πλήθος να φωνάζει να του ανοίξουν! Ήταν οι Έλληνες, ως συνήθως εκπρόθεσμοι και μόλις μπήκαν άρχισαν τα παρακάλια:
- Ανοιξε Θεούλη μου, σε παρακαλούμε, θέλουμε κι εμείς μια πατρίδα.
- Τι θέλετε εδώ παιδιά? Δεν είπαμε ότι την Κυριακή ξεκουράζομαι?
- Το ξέρουμε Θεούλη μου, αλλά μπερδέψαμε τις ημερομηνίες. Μη μας αφήσεις σε παρακαλούμε χωρίς δική μας πατρίδα σαν τους τσιγγάνους… Είμαστε νοικοκυραίοι εμείς.
- Καλά βρε παιδιά, γιατί δεν ήρθατε νωρίτερα? Τώρα δεν υπάρχει τίποτα. Ούτε σπιθαμή. Τα έχω μοιράσει όλα.
- Θεούλη μου, εμείς φταίμε, είδαμε ότι είχε πολύ χώρο κι είπαμε ότι θα περισσέψει και για μας. Και περιμέναμε να σπάσει λίγο ο κόσμος για να μην περιμένουμε στις ουρές… Έχουμε τόσα σπουδαία μυαλά, έχουμε πολλά να κάνουμε και να δώσουμε στον κόσμο… μη μας αφήσεις χωρίς Πατρίδα. Μπορεί να αργήσαμε, αλλά αν μας δώσεις κι εμάς, θα την υπερασπιζόμαστε με τη ζωή μας.
- Τι να σας πω ρε παιδιά? (είπε ο Θεός ξύνοντας το κεφάλι του). Κι εσείς παιδιά μου είστε και μάλιστα τα πιο έξυπνα, αλλά πραγματικά δεν υπάρχει άλλος χώρος!
- Σε παρακαλούμε.
- Καλά. Τότε θα σας δώσω ένα μικρό κομματάκι που είχα κρατήσει για τον εαυτό μου (!!!)
Πέμπτη 29 Νοεμβρίου 2012
Είπαν για την Κρίση #1
Paul Krugman, Τέλος
στην Ύφεση,2012
«Από τη δεκαετία του 1980 λειτουργούμε στο πλαίσιο μιας εντελώς διαφορετικής αρχής που έχει επιτρέψει στην ανισότητα στην κατανομή του πλούτου και του εισοδήματος να φτάσει σε επίπεδα τα οποία μπορεί να θεωρούνταν κανονικά για τη δεκαετία του 1920, αλλά πιστεύαμε ότι δεν θα ξαναβλέπαμε ποτέ πια.»
Σκιντέλσκι,
Keynes:Επιστροφή στη Διδασκαλία του, 2011
«Διαπιστώνουμε ότι μεγαλύτερες περίοδοι οικονομικής μεγέθυνσης συνδέονται στενά με μεγαλύτερη ισότητα στη διανομή του εισοδήματος [...] Συνεπώς σε μεγαλύτερο βάθος χρόνου η μείωση της ανισότητας και η βιώσιμη οικονομική μεγέθυνση μπορεί να αποτελούν δύο πλευρές του ιδίου νομίσματος».
ΔΝΤ, 2011...αυτό
ακριβώς ΔΕΝ ΕΚΑΝΕ στην Ελλάδα.
«Τελικά η απασχόληση και η ισότητα είναι δομικά υλικά της οικονομικής σταθερότητας και της ευημερίας, της πολιτικής σταθερότητας και της ειρήνης. Αυτή θα είναι η κεντρική ιδέα της εντολής του ΔΝΤ. Πρέπει να μπει στο επίκεντρο της πολιτικής ατζέντας»
Στρος Καν,
2011...αυτό ακριβώς ΔΕΝ ΕΚΑΝΕ στην Ελλάδα.
«Από την εποχή του μεγάλου Βρετανού οικονομολόγου Τζον Μέιναρντ Κέυνς, οι κυβερνήσεις έχουν αντιληφθεί πως....
όταν υπάρχει έλλειμμα ζήτησης -όταν η ανεργία είναι υψηλή- πρέπει να λαμβάνουν μέτρα για να αυξάνουν είτε τη δημόσια είτε την ιδιωτική δαπάνη.»
Στίγκλιτς, το
τίμημα της ανισότητας
«Τα κίνητρα της Μέρκελ είναι ορατά για όσους βλέπουν. Και είναι πολλοί αυτοί. Όποιος εργάζεται κοντά στην καγκελάριο βλέπει και σωπαίνει. Η πολιτική Ευρώπη είναι γεμάτη αρουραίους. Το σύστημα της Μέρκελ βασίζεται στους αρουραίους και στους μπράβους. Ερωτήσεις; Όχι τώρα»
Γκέτρουντ Χέλερ, «Η
ΝΟΝΑ»
«Η κυβέρνηση της Μέρκελ έχει εγκαταλείψει το μονοπάτι της δημοκρατίας. Μόνο ένα αυταρχικό σύστημα μπορεί να θεωρήσει ότι η ελεύθερη έκφραση γνώμης με αυτή τη μορφή πρέπει να περιοριστεί κι ότι στο κοινοβούλιο επιτρέπεται πια να ακούγεται μόνο η επιχειρηματολογία της κομματικής γραμμής»
Γκέτρουντ Χέλερ, «Η
ΝΟΝΑ»
«Η μείωση του ΑΕΠ και η αύξηση της ανεργίας συνεπάγονται μείωση των φορολογικών εσόδων και αύξηση των δαπανών.»
Στίγκλιτς, το
τίμημα της ανισότητας
«Η κυβέρνηση δεν έχει νοµιµοποίηση, αν δεν κυβερνά µε τη συναίνεση των κυβερνωµένων»
Μία ρήση του Τζον
Λοκ που ξεχνάνε οι νεοφιλελεύθεροι
ή οπαδοί της
μνημονιακής λιτότητας
«Κάποιοι κοινωνικοί επιστήμονες προσπαθούν να ερμηνεύσουν την επίδραση της «εμπιστοσύνης» στο σύνολο της οικονομίας κάνοντας αναφορά στο κοινωνικό κεφάλαιο. Μια οικονομία με περισσότερο «κοινωνικό κεφάλαιο» είναι πιο παραγωγική : όπως και μια οικονομία με περισσότερο ανθρώπινο ή υλικό κεφάλαιο.
Το κοινωνικό κεφάλαιο είναι μια ευρεία έννοια, που περιλαμβάνει εκείνους τους παρά γοντες οι οποίοι συμβάλλουν στην καλή διακυβέρνηση τόσο του δημόσιου όσο και του ιδιωτικού τομέα. Όμως η ιδέα της εμπιστοσύνης αποτελεί τη βάση κάθε έννοιας του κοινωνικού κεφαλαίου, οι άνθρωποι μπορούν να νιώθουν σίγουροι ότι θα τύχουν καλής, αξιοπρεπούς και δίκαιης μεταχείρισης. Και ανταποδίδουν.
Το κοινωνικό κεφάλαιο είναι ο συνδετικός ιστός που κρατά ενωμένες τις κοινωνίες. Αν τα άτομα πιστεύουν ότι το οικονομικό και πολιτικό σύστημα είναι άδικο, ο συνδετικός ιστός δεν πιάνει και οι κοινωνίες δεν λειτουργούν σωστά.»
Στίγκλιτς, το
τίμημα της ανισότητας
«Αν κοιτάξουμε τι θέλουν οι οπαδοί της λιτότητας -δημοσιονομική πολιτική που εστιάζει όχι στη δημιουργία θέσεων εργασίας, αλλά στα ελλείμματα, νομισματική πολιτική που καταπολεμά μανιωδώς το παραμικρό ίχνος πληθωρισμού και αυξάνει τα επιτόκια, ακόμη και όταν η ανεργία είναι μαζική-, όλα ουσιαστικά εξυπηρετούν τα συμφέροντα των πιστωτών, εκείνων που δανείζουν, σε αντίθεση με εκείνους που δανείζονται και/ή εργάζονται για να ζήσουν.
Οι δανειστές θέλουν η κυβέρνηση να θέτει ως πρώτη προτεραιότητα την εξυπηρέτηση των χρεών τους, και αντιτίθενται σε οποιαδήποτε απόπειρα, από νομισματικής πλευράς, που είτε στερεί από προσόδους τους τραπεζίτες, διατηρώντας χαμηλά τα επιτόκια, είτε διαβρώνει την αξία των απαιτήσεων μέσω του πληθωρισμού.»
Paul Krugman
ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 24/11/2012
Seventeenth Chapter
A Sunday school teacher was giving her class the assignment for the next week.
"Next Sunday," she said, "we are going to talk about liars, and in preparation for our lesson I want you all to read the Seventeenth Chapter of Mark."
The following week, at the beginning of the class meeting, the teacher said, "Now then, all of you who have prepared for the lesson by reading the Seventeenth Chapter of Mark, please step to the front of the room."
About half the class rose and came forward.
"The rest of you may leave," said the teacher, "these students are the ones I want to talk to. There is no Seventeenth Chapter in the Book of Mark."
"Next Sunday," she said, "we are going to talk about liars, and in preparation for our lesson I want you all to read the Seventeenth Chapter of Mark."
The following week, at the beginning of the class meeting, the teacher said, "Now then, all of you who have prepared for the lesson by reading the Seventeenth Chapter of Mark, please step to the front of the room."
About half the class rose and came forward.
"The rest of you may leave," said the teacher, "these students are the ones I want to talk to. There is no Seventeenth Chapter in the Book of Mark."
Vow of Silence
At a remote monastery deep in the woods, the monks followed a rigid vow of silence. This vow could only be broken once a year on Christmas, by one monk, and the monk could speak only one sentence. One Christmas, Brother Thomas had his turn to speak and said, "I love the delightful mashed potatoes we have every year with the Christmas roast!" Then he sat down. Silence ensued for 365 days. The next Christmas, Brother Michael got his turn, and said, "I think the mashed potatoes are lumpy and I truly despise them!" Once again, silence ensued for 365 days. The following Christmas, Brother Paul rose and said, "I am fed up with this constant bickering!" |
ΒΡΑΔΥΝΑ ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 28/11/2012
Late Night Funny #1
President Obama has wrapped up his four-day, three-country trip to Asia. And insiders say the last 96 hours were very productive. The president said he may have found a country in Asia that can make Twinkies for us.
Late Night Funny #2
Down in Tampa, where we have our Central Command, there was this glorified gypsie grifter named Jill Kelly, who's part Kardashian, part Palin, and part Snooki, who was hanging around the military bases. The media calls her a Tampa socialite. What is that really? Someone who goes to Applebee's and orders the filet? So she starts getting these anonymous threatening emails from someone – of course it turned out to be Paula Broadwell – telling her to stay away from my general. Because if there's one thing a mistress hates, it's a guy who cheats.
Bill Maher |
Late Night Funny #3
Joe Biden made his birthday wish today. Right after blowing out the candles he asked everyone, 'Am I invisible yet?'
Jimmy Fallon |
Late Night Funny #4
Mitt Romney was photographed at a gas station in San Diego filling up his car, then he was spotted later in the day at Disneyland. See, that's when you know you're rich – when you can afford to fill up your car with gas and go to Disneyland on the same day.
Jay Leno |
Τρίτη 27 Νοεμβρίου 2012
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί
Αναρτήθηκε από τον/την olympiada στο Νοεμβρίου 26, 2012
Ἀπό Χαρίκλεια
Προς τέρψιν τῶν φίλων τῆς Ὀλυμπίας καί σχετικά μέ τά πολλά καί ἐνδιαφέροντα πού ἀναφέρονται στήν ἀνάρτηση:
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί
πλοῦτος δόξα καί τιμή
μοῦ ἀνήκει.
Ἀνευθύνως κυβερνῶ
καί τόν χρόνο μου περνῶ
ὡς προσήκει.
Ὅταν ἔρως μέ νικᾶ
πανδρεμένα θηλυκά,
γαργαλιῶνται,
ποία πρώτη νά δοθῆ
ὑπ΄ ἐμοῦ νά ἐρωτευθῆ
ἁμιλλῶνται.
Κι ὁ λαός; τά ἑρπετά;
Εἶπον ἤδη ἀρκετά
ΖHTΩ Η ΠΛΑΝΗ
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί,
ζῶν ἔν πλούτῳ καί τιμῇ
τοῦτο φθάνει!!!!
Προς τέρψιν τῶν φίλων τῆς Ὀλυμπίας καί σχετικά μέ τά πολλά καί ἐνδιαφέροντα πού ἀναφέρονται στήν ἀνάρτηση:
Ἴσως η ανάρτηση της δεκαετίας… ΠΕΤΡΕΛΑΙΟ ΔΕΝ ΥΠΑΡΧΕΙ!,
θά μοῦ ἐπιτρέψετε νά παραθέσω τὀ παρακάτω ποιημάτιο, ἀφιερωμένο ἀποκλειστικά στόν πατέρα καί υἱό Παπανδρέου.
Τὀ ποίημα γράφηκε στό μεσοπόλεμο γιά ἀνάλογες καταστάσεις ἀπό τόν ἑπτανήσιο συμπατριώτη μου.
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμίἩγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί
πλοῦτος δόξα καί τιμή
μοῦ ἀνήκει.
Ἀνευθύνως κυβερνῶ
καί τόν χρόνο μου περνῶ
ὡς προσήκει.
Ὅταν ἔρως μέ νικᾶ
πανδρεμένα θηλυκά,
γαργαλιῶνται,
ποία πρώτη νά δοθῆ
ὑπ΄ ἐμοῦ νά ἐρωτευθῆ
ἁμιλλῶνται.
Κι ὁ λαός; τά ἑρπετά;
Εἶπον ἤδη ἀρκετά
ΖHTΩ Η ΠΛΑΝΗ
Ἡγεμών ἐγώ εἰμί,
ζῶν ἔν πλούτῳ καί τιμῇ
τοῦτο φθάνει!!!!
Κυριακή 25 Νοεμβρίου 2012
ΕΠΙΚΑΙΡΑ ΠΟΙΗΜΑΤΑ ΤΟΥ ΠΑΛΑΜΑ
Ρωμέικο να! Με γεια σου, με χαρά σου.
Αναρτήθηκε από τον/την exomatiakaivlepo στο Νοεμβρίου 23, 2012
Στ’ ακάθαρτα κυλήστε μας του βούρκου,
και πιο βαθιά. Πατήστε μας με κάτι
κι από το πόδι πιο σκληρό του Τούρκου.
και πιο βαθιά. Πατήστε μας με κάτι
κι από το πόδι πιο σκληρό του Τούρκου.
Διαβασμένοι, ντοτόροι, σπιρουνάτοι,
ρασοφόροι, δασκάλοι, ρουσφετλήδες,
οικοπεδοφαγάδες, αβοκάτοι,
ρασοφόροι, δασκάλοι, ρουσφετλήδες,
οικοπεδοφαγάδες, αβοκάτοι,
κομματάρχηδες και κοτσαμπασήδες,και της γραμματικής οι μανταρίνοι
και της πολιτικής οι φασουλήδες,
ταρτούφοι, ραμπαγάδες, ταρταρίνοι!
– Αμάν! Αγά, στα πόδια σου! άκου! στάσου! –
Βυζαντινοί, Γασμούλοι, Λεβαντίνοι.
Ρωμέικο να! Με γεια σου, με χαρά σου.
Το ποίημα αυτό, το πρώτο της δεύτερης σειράς, είναι και ένα από τα πιο σκληρά και πιο εύστοχα, μαζί με τα δύο ή τρία επόμενα.
Ντοτόροι οι γιατροί, σπιρουνάτοι οι στρατιωτικοί, ρουσφετλήδες οι ρουσφετολόγοι, αβοκάτοι οι δικηγόροι, μανταρίνοι οι γραφειοκράτες, ταρτούφοι οι υποκριτές, ραμπαγάδες οι αριβίστες πολιτικάντηδες, ταρταρίνοι οι ψευτοπαλικαράδες, γασμούλοι οι μισοί Φράγκοι-μισοί Έλληνες.
Το ποίημα περιέχεται στα «Σατιρικά Γυμνάσματα» του Κ. Παλαμά που είναι 44 ποιήματα που δημοσιεύτηκαν αρχικά στον Νουμά, το μαχητικό περιοδικό των δημοτικιστών, σε δύο δόσεις. Η πρώτη σειρά, από 20 ποιήματα, στο φύλλο 277 στις
6.1.1908 και η δεύτερη, από 24 ποιήματα, στο φύλλο 356, στις 6.9.1909. Όλα τα ποιήματα έχουν την ίδια μορφή: δεκατρείς εντεκασύλλαβοι ιαμβικοί στίχοι το καθένα.
6.1.1908 και η δεύτερη, από 24 ποιήματα, στο φύλλο 356, στις 6.9.1909. Όλα τα ποιήματα έχουν την ίδια μορφή: δεκατρείς εντεκασύλλαβοι ιαμβικοί στίχοι το καθένα.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Και θα φύγεις κι απ’ το σάπιο το κορμί,
ω Ψυχή παραδαρμένη από το κρίμα,
και δε θά’ βρει το κορμί μια σπιθαμή
μες στη γη για να την κάμει μνήμα,
κι άθαφτο θα μείνει το ψοφίμι,
να το φάνε τα σκυλιά και τα ερπετά,
κι ο Καιρός μέσα στους γύρους του τη μνήμη
κάποιου σκέλεθρου πανάθλιου θα βαστά.
Όσο να σε λυπηθεί της αγάπης ο Θεός,
και να ξημερώσει μιαν αυγή,
και να σε καλέσει ο λυτρωμός,
ω Ψυχή παραδαρμένη από το κρίμα!
Και θ’ ακούσεις τη φωνή του λυτρωτή,
θα γθυθείς της αμαρτίας το ντύμα,
και ξανά κυβερνημένη κι αλαφρή,
θα σαλέψεις σαν τη χλόη, σαν το πουλί,
σαν το κόρφο το γυναικείο,
σαν το κύμα,
και μην έχοντας πιο κάτου άλλο σκαλί
να κατρακυλήσεις πιο βαθιά
στου Κακού τη σκάλα,
για τ’ ανέβασμα ξανά που σε καλεί
θα αιστανθείς να σου φυτρώσουν, ω χαρά!
Τα φτερά, τα φτερά τα πρωτινά σου τα μεγάλα!Ο “Δωδεκάλογος του Γύφτου”
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ω Ψυχή παραδαρμένη από το κρίμα,
και δε θά’ βρει το κορμί μια σπιθαμή
μες στη γη για να την κάμει μνήμα,
κι άθαφτο θα μείνει το ψοφίμι,
να το φάνε τα σκυλιά και τα ερπετά,
κι ο Καιρός μέσα στους γύρους του τη μνήμη
κάποιου σκέλεθρου πανάθλιου θα βαστά.
Όσο να σε λυπηθεί της αγάπης ο Θεός,
και να ξημερώσει μιαν αυγή,
και να σε καλέσει ο λυτρωμός,
ω Ψυχή παραδαρμένη από το κρίμα!
Και θ’ ακούσεις τη φωνή του λυτρωτή,
θα γθυθείς της αμαρτίας το ντύμα,
και ξανά κυβερνημένη κι αλαφρή,
θα σαλέψεις σαν τη χλόη, σαν το πουλί,
σαν το κόρφο το γυναικείο,
σαν το κύμα,
και μην έχοντας πιο κάτου άλλο σκαλί
να κατρακυλήσεις πιο βαθιά
στου Κακού τη σκάλα,
για τ’ ανέβασμα ξανά που σε καλεί
θα αιστανθείς να σου φυτρώσουν, ω χαρά!
Τα φτερά, τα φτερά τα πρωτινά σου τα μεγάλα!Ο “Δωδεκάλογος του Γύφτου”
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Γύριζε
«Γύριζε, μὴ σταθῇς ποτέ, ρίξε μας πέτρα μαύρη,
ὁ ψεύτης εἴδωλο εἶν᾿ ἐδῶ, τὸ προσκυνᾷ ἡ πλεμπάγια,
ἡ Ἀλήθεια τόπο νὰ σταθῇ μιὰ σπιθαμὴ δὲ θἄβρῃ.
Ἀλάργα. Μόρα τῆς ψυχῆς τῆς χώρας τὰ μουράγια.
Ἀπὸ θαμποὺς ντερβίσηδες καὶ στέρφους μανταρίνους
κι ἀπὸ τοὺς χαλκοπράσινους ἡ Πολιτεία πατιέται.
Χαρὰ στοὺς χασομέρηδες! Χαρὰ στοὺς ἀρλεκίνους!
Σκλάβος ξανάσκυψε ὁ ρωμιὸς καὶ δασκαλοκρατιέται.
Δὲν ἔχεις, Ὄλυμπε, θεούς, μηδὲ λεβέντες ἡ Ὄσσα,
ραγιάδες ἔχεις, μάννα γῆ, σκυφτοὺς γιὰ τὸ χαράτσι,
κούφιοι καὶ ὀκνοὶ καταφρονοῦν τὴ θεία τραχιά σου γλώσσα,
τῶν Εὐρωπαίων περιγελᾷ καὶ τῶν ἀρχαίων παλιάτσοι.
Καὶ δημοκόποι Κλέωνες καὶ λογοκόποι Ζωίλοι,
καὶ Μαμμωνᾶδες βάρβαροι, καὶ χαῦνοι λεβαντίνοι.
λύκοι, ὦ κοπάδια, οἱ πιστικοὶ καὶ ψωριασμένοι οἱ σκύλοι
κι οἱ χαροκόποι ἀδιάντροποι καὶ πόρνη ἡ Ρωμιοσύνη!»
(1908)
«Γύριζε, μὴ σταθῇς ποτέ, ρίξε μας πέτρα μαύρη,
ὁ ψεύτης εἴδωλο εἶν᾿ ἐδῶ, τὸ προσκυνᾷ ἡ πλεμπάγια,
ἡ Ἀλήθεια τόπο νὰ σταθῇ μιὰ σπιθαμὴ δὲ θἄβρῃ.
Ἀλάργα. Μόρα τῆς ψυχῆς τῆς χώρας τὰ μουράγια.
Ἀπὸ θαμποὺς ντερβίσηδες καὶ στέρφους μανταρίνους
κι ἀπὸ τοὺς χαλκοπράσινους ἡ Πολιτεία πατιέται.
Χαρὰ στοὺς χασομέρηδες! Χαρὰ στοὺς ἀρλεκίνους!
Σκλάβος ξανάσκυψε ὁ ρωμιὸς καὶ δασκαλοκρατιέται.
Δὲν ἔχεις, Ὄλυμπε, θεούς, μηδὲ λεβέντες ἡ Ὄσσα,
ραγιάδες ἔχεις, μάννα γῆ, σκυφτοὺς γιὰ τὸ χαράτσι,
κούφιοι καὶ ὀκνοὶ καταφρονοῦν τὴ θεία τραχιά σου γλώσσα,
τῶν Εὐρωπαίων περιγελᾷ καὶ τῶν ἀρχαίων παλιάτσοι.
Καὶ δημοκόποι Κλέωνες καὶ λογοκόποι Ζωίλοι,
καὶ Μαμμωνᾶδες βάρβαροι, καὶ χαῦνοι λεβαντίνοι.
λύκοι, ὦ κοπάδια, οἱ πιστικοὶ καὶ ψωριασμένοι οἱ σκύλοι
κι οἱ χαροκόποι ἀδιάντροποι καὶ πόρνη ἡ Ρωμιοσύνη!»
(1908)
Σάββατο 24 Νοεμβρίου 2012
Dune (Dune Chronicles, Book 1)
Dune (Dune Chronicles, Book 1)
By Frank HerbertPublisher AceISBN 9780441172719
Published in Science Fiction & Fantasy/Fantasy, Literature & Fiction
Are you an AUTHOR? Click here to include your books on BookDaily.com
Sample Chapter
In the week before their departure to Arrakis, when all the final scurrying about had reached a nearly unbearable frenzy, an old crone came to visit the mother of the boy, Paul. It was a warm night at Castle Caladan, and the ancient pile of stone that had served the Atreides family as home for twenty-six generations bore that cooled-sweat feeling it acquired before a change in the weather. The old woman was let in by the side door down the vaulted passage by Paul's room and she was allowed a moment to peer in at him where he lay in his bed. By the half-light of a suspensor lamp, dimmed and hanging near the floor, the awakened boy could see a bulky female shape at his door, standing one step ahead of his mother. The old woman was a witch shadow—hair like matted spiderwebs, hooded 'round darkness of features, eyes like glittering jewels. "Is he not small for his age, Jessica?" the old woman asked. Her voice wheezed and twanged like an untuned baliset. Paul's mother answered in her soft contralto: "The Atreides are known to start late getting their growth, Your Reverence." "So I've heard, so I've heard," wheezed the old woman. "Yet he's already fifteen." "Yes, Your Reverence."
"He's awake and listening to us," said the old woman. "Sly little rascal." She chuckled. "But royalty has need of slyness. And if he's really the Kwisatz Haderach ... well...." Within the shadows of his bed, Paul held his eyes open to mere slits. Two bird-bright ovals—the eyes of the old woman—seemed to expand and glow as they stared into his.
"Sleep well, you sly little rascal," said the old woman. "Tomorrow you'll need all your faculties to meet my gom jabbar." And she was gone, pushing his mother out, closing the door with a solid thump. Paul lay awake wondering: What's a gom jabbar? In all the upset during this time of change, the old woman was the strangest thing he had seen. Your Reverence. And the way she called his mother Jessica like a common serving wench instead of what she was—a Bene Gesserit Lady, a duke's concubine and mother of the ducal heir. Is a gom jabbar something of Arrakis I must know before we go there? he wondered. He mouthed her strange words: Gom jabbar ... Kwisatz Haderach. There had been so many things to learn. Arrakis would be a place so different from Caladan that Paul's mind whirled with the new knowledge. Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet. Thufir Hawat, his father's Master of Assassins, had explained it: their mortal enemies, the Harkonnens, had been on Arrakis eighty years, holding the planet in quasi-fief under a
CHOAM Company contract to mine the geriatric spice, melange. Now the Harkonnens were leaving to be replaced by the House of Atreides in fief-complete—an apparent victory for the Duke Leto. Yet, Hawat had said, this appearance contained the deadliest peril, for the Duke Leto was popular among the Great Houses of the Landsraad. "A popular man arouses the jealousy of the powerful," Hawat had said. Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet. Paul fell asleep to dream of an Arrakeen cavern, silent people all around him moving in the dim light of glowglobes. It was solemn there and like a cathedral as he listened to a faint sound—the drip-drip-drip of water. Even while he remained in the dream, Paul knew he would remember it upon awakening. He always remembered the dreams that were predictions. The dream faded. Paul awoke to feel himself in the warmth of his bed—thinking ... thinking. This world of Castle Caladan, without play or companions his own age, perhaps did not deserve sadness in farewell. Dr. Yueh, his teacher, had hinted that the faufreluches class system was not rigidly guarded on Arrakis. The planet sheltered people who lived at the desert edge without caid or bashar to command them: will-o'-the-sand people called Fremen, marked down on no census of the Imperial Regate. Arrakis—Dune—Desert Planet.
Paul sensed his own tensions, decided to practice one of the mind-body lessons his mother had taught him. Three quick breaths triggered the responses: he fell into the floating awareness ... focusing the consciousness ... aortal dilation ... avoiding the unfocused mechanism of consciousness ... to be conscious by choice ... blood enriched and swift-flooding the overload regions ... one does not obtain food-safety-freedom by instinct alone ... animal consciousness does not extend beyond the given moment nor into the idea that its victims may become extinct ... the animal destroys and does not produce ... animal pleasures remain close to sensation levels and avoid the perceptual ... the human requires a background grid through which to see his universe ... focused consciousness by choice, this forms your grid ... bodily integrity follows nerve-blood flow according to the deepest awareness of cell needs ... all things/cells/beings are impermanent ... strive for flow-permanence within.... Over and over and over within Paul's floating awareness the lesson rolled. When dawn touched Paul's window sill with yellow light, he sensed it through closed eyelids, opened them, hearing then the renewed bustle and hurry in the castle, seeing the familiar patterned beams of his bedroom ceiling. The hall door opened and his mother peered in, hair like shaded bronze held with black ribbon at the crown, her oval face emotionless and green eyes staring solemnly. "You're awake," she said. "Did you sleep well?" "Yes."
He studied the tallness of her, saw the hint of tension in her shoulders as she chose clothing for him from the closet racks. Another might have missed the tension, but she had trained him in the Bene Gesserit Way—in the minutiae of observation. She turned, holding a semiformal jacket for him. It carried the red Atreides hawk crest above the breast pocket. "Hurry and dress," she said. "Reverend Mother is waiting." "I dreamed of her once," Paul said. "Who is she?" "She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school. Now, she's the Emperor's Truthsayer. And Paul...." She hesitated. "You must tell her about your dreams." "I will. Is she the reason we got Arrakis?" "We did not get Arrakis." Jessica flicked dust from a pair of trousers, hung them with the jacket on the dressing stand beside his bed. "Don't keep Reverend Mother waiting." Paul sat up, hugged his knees. "What's a gom jabbar?" Again, the training she had given him exposed her almost invisible hesitation, a nervous betrayal he felt as fear. Jessica crossed to the window, flung wide the draperies, stared across the river orchards toward Mount Syubi. "You'll learn about ... the gom jabbar soon enough," she said. He heard the fear in her voice and wondered at it.
Jessica spoke without turning. "Reverend Mother is waiting in my morning room. Please hurry."The Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam sat in a tapestried chair watching mother and son approach. Windows on each side of her overlooked the curving southern bend of the river and the green farmlands of the Atreides family holding, but the Reverend Mother ignored the view. She was feeling her age this morning, more than a little petulant. She blamed it on space travel and association with that abominable Spacing Guild and its secretive ways. But here was a mission that required personal attention from a Bene Gesserit-with-the-Sight. Even the Padishah Emperor's Truthsayer couldn't evade that responsibility when the duty call came. Damn that Jessica! the Reverend Mother thought. If only she'd borne us a girl as she was ordered to do! Jessica stopped three paces from the chair, dropped a small curtsy, a gentle flick of left hand along the line of her skirt. Paul gave the short bow his dancing master had taught—the one used "when in doubt of another's station." The nuances of Paul's greeting were not lost on the Reverend Mother. She said: "He's a cautious one, Jessica." Jessica's hand went to Paul's shoulder, tightened there. For a heartbeat, fear pulsed through her palm. Then she had herself under control. "Thus he has been taught, Your Reverence."
What does she fear? Paul wondered. The old woman studied Paul in one gestalten flicker: face oval like Jessica's, but strong bones ... hair: the Duke's black-black but with browline of the maternal grandfather who cannot be named, and that thin, disdainful nose; shape of directly staring green eyes: like the old Duke, the paternal grandfather who is dead. Now, there was a man who appreciated the power of bravura—even in death, the Reverend Mother thought. "Teaching is one thing," she said, "the basic ingredient is another. We shall see." The old eyes darted a hard glance at Jessica. "Leave us. I enjoin you to practice the meditation of peace." Jessica took her hand from Paul's shoulder. "Your Reverence, I—" "Jessica, you know it must be done." Paul looked up at his mother, puzzled. Jessica straightened. "Yes ... of course." Paul looked back at the Reverend Mother. Politeness and his mother's obvious awe of this old woman argued caution. Yet he felt an angry apprehension at the fear he sensed radiating from his mother
"Paul...." Jessica took a deep breath. "... this test you're about to receive ... it's important to me." "Test?" He looked up at her. "Remember that you're a duke's son," Jessica said. She whirled and strode from the room in a dry swishing of skirt. The door closed solidly behind her. Paul faced the old woman, holding anger in check. "Does one dismiss the Lady Jessica as though she were a serving wench?" A smile flicked the corners of the wrinkled old mouth. "The Lady Jessica was my serving wench, lad, for fourteen years at school." She nodded. "And a good one, too. Now, you come here!" The command whipped out at him. Paul found himself obeying before he could think about it. Using the Voice on me, he thought. He stopped at her gesture, standing beside her knees. "See this?" she asked. From the folds of her gown, she lifted a green metal cube about fifteen centimeters on a side. She turned it and Paul saw that one side was open—black and oddly frightening. No light penetrated that open blackness. "Put your right hand in the box," she said. Fear shot through Paul. He started to back away, but the old woman said: "Is this how
you obey your mother?" He looked up into bird-bright eyes. Slowly, feeling the compulsions and unable to inhibit them, Paul put his hand into the box. He felt first a sense of cold as the blackness closed around his hand, then slick metal against his fingers and a prickling as though his hand were asleep. A predatory look filled the old woman's features. She lifted her right hand away from the box and poised the hand close to the side of Paul's neck. He saw a glint of metal there and started to turn toward it. "Stop!" she snapped. Using the Voice again! He swung his attention back to her face. "I hold at your neck the gom jabbar," she said. "The gom jabbar, the high-handed enemy. It's a needle with a drop of poison on its tip. Ah-ah! Don't pull away or you'll feel that poison." Paul tried to swallow in a dry throat. He could not take his attention from the seamed old face, the glistening eyes, the pale gums around silvery metal teeth that flashed as she spoke. "A duke's son must know about poisons," she said. "It's the way of our times, eh? Musky, to be poisoned in your drink. Aumas, to be poisoned in your food. The quick ones and the slow ones and the ones in between. Here's a new one for you: the gom jabbar. It kills only
animals." Pride overcame Paul's fear. "You dare suggest a duke's son is an animal?" he demanded. "Let us say I suggest you may be human," she said. "Steady! I warn you not to try jerking away. I am old, but my hand can drive this needle into your neck before you escape me." "Who are you?" he whispered. "How did you trick my mother into leaving me alone with you? Are you from the Harkonnens?" "The Harkonnens? Bless us, no! Now, be silent." A dry finger touched his neck and he stilled the involuntary urge to leap away. "Good," she said. "You pass the first test. Now, here's the way of the rest of it: If you withdraw your hand from the box you die. This is the only rule. Keep your hand in the box and live. Withdraw it and die." Paul took a deep breath to still his trembling. "If I call out there'll be servants on you in seconds and you'll die." "Servants will not pass your mother who stands guard outside that door. Depend on it. Your mother survived this test. Now it's your turn. Be honored. We seldom administer this to men-children." Curiosity reduced Paul's fear to a manageable level. He heard truth in the old woman's voice, no denying it. If his mother stood guard out there ... if this were truly a test.... And
whatever it was, he knew himself caught in it, trapped by that hand at his neck: the gom jabbar. He recalled the response from the Litany against Fear as his mother had taught him out of the Bene Gesserit rite. "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." He felt calmness return, said: "Get on with it, old woman." "Old woman!" she snapped. "You've courage, and that can't be denied. Well, we shall see, sirra." She bent close, lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "You will feel pain in this hand within the box. Pain. But! Withdraw the hand and I'll touch your neck with my gom jabbar—the death so swift it's like the fall of the headsman's axe. Withdraw your hand and the gom jabbar takes you. Understand?" "What's in the box?" "Pain." He felt increased tingling in his hand, pressed his lips tightly together. How could this be a test? he wondered. The tingling became an itch. The old woman said: "You've heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There's an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death
that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind." The itch became the faintest burning. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded. "To determine if you're human. Be silent." Paul clenched his left hand into a fist as the burning sensation increased in the other hand. It mounted slowly: heat upon heat upon heat ... upon heat. He felt the fingernails of his free hand biting the palm. He tried to flex the fingers of the burning hand, but couldn't move them. "It burns," he whispered. "Silence!" Pain throbbed up his arm. Sweat stood out on his forehead. Every fiber cried out to withdraw the hand from that burning pit ... but ... the gom jabbar. Without turning his head, he tried to move his eyes to see that terrible needle poised beside his neck. He sensed that he was breathing in gasps, tried to slow his breaths and couldn't. Pain! His world emptied of everything except that hand immersed in agony, the ancient face inches away staring at him. His lips were so dry he had difficulty separating them
The burning! The burning! He thought he could feel skin curling black on that agonized hand, the flesh crisping and dropping away until only charred bones remained. It stopped! As though a switch had been turned off, the pain stopped. Paul felt his right arm trembling, felt sweat bathing his body. "Enough," the old woman muttered. "Kull wahad! No woman-child ever withstood that much. I must've wanted you to fail." She leaned back, withdrawing the gom jabbar from the side of his neck. "Take your hand from the box, young human, and look at it." He fought down an aching shiver, stared at the lightless void where his hand seemed to remain of its own volition. Memory of pain inhibited every movement. Reason told him he would withdraw a blackened stump from that box. "Do it!" she snapped. He jerked his hand from the box, stared at it astonished. Not a mark. No sign of agony on the flesh. He held up the hand, turned it, flexed the fingers. "Pain by nerve induction," she said. "Can't go around maiming potential humans. There're those who'd give a pretty for the secret of this box, though." She slipped it into the
folds of her gown. "But the pain—" he said. "Pain," she sniffed. "A human can override any nerve in the body." Paul felt his left hand aching, uncurled the clenched fingers, looked at four bloody marks where fingernails had bitten his palm. He dropped the hand to his side, looked at the old woman. "You did that to my mother once?" "Ever sift sand through a screen?" she asked. The tangential slash of her question shocked his mind into a higher awareness: Sand through a screen. He nodded. "We Bene Gesserit sift people to find the humans." He lifted his right hand, willing the memory of the pain. "And that's all there is to it—pain?" "I observed you in pain, lad. Pain's merely the axis of the test. Your mother's told you about our ways of observing. I see the signs of her teaching in you. Our test is crisis and observation." He heard the confirmation in her voice, said: "It's truth!" She stared at him. He senses truth! Could he be the one? Could he truly be the one? She
extinguished the excitement, reminding herself: "Hope clouds observation." "You know when people believe what they say," she said. "I know it." The harmonics of ability confirmed by repeated test were in his voice. She heard them, said: "Perhaps you are the Kwisatz Haderach. Sit down, little brother, here at my feet." "I prefer to stand." "Your mother sat at my feet once." "I'm not my mother." "You hate us a little, eh?" She looked toward the door, called out: "Jessica!" The door flew open and Jessica stood there staring hard-eyed into the room. Hardness melted from her as she saw Paul. She managed a faint smile. "Jessica, have you ever stopped hating me?" the old woman asked. "I both love and hate you," Jessica said. "The hate—that's from pains I must never forget. The love—that's...." "Just the basic fact," the old woman said, but her voice was gentle. "You may come in now, but remain silent. Close that door and mind it that no one interrupts us."
Jessica stepped into the room, closed the door and stood with her back to it. My son lives, she thought. My son lives and is ... human. I knew he was ... but ... he lives. Now, I can go on living. The door felt hard and real against her back. Everything in the room was immediate and pressing against her senses. My son lives. Paul looked at his mother. She told the truth. He wanted to get away alone and think this experience through, but knew he could not leave until he was dismissed. The old woman had gained a power over him. They spoke truth. His mother had undergone this test. There must be terrible purpose in it ... the pain and fear had been terrible. He understood terrible purposes. They drove against all odds. They were their own necessity. Paul felt that he had been infected with terrible purpose. He did not know yet what the terrible purpose was. "Some day, lad," the old woman said, "you, too, may have to stand outside a door like that. It takes a measure of doing." Paul looked down at the hand that had known pain, then up to the Reverend Mother. The sound of her voice had contained a difference then from any other voice in his experience. The words were outlined in brilliance. There was an edge to them. He felt that any question he might ask her would bring an answer that could lift him out of his flesh-world into something greater. "Why do you test for humans?" he asked.
"To set you free." "Free?" "Once men turned their thinking over to machines in the hope that this would set them free. But that only permitted other men with machines to enslave them." "`Thou shalt not make a machine in the likeness of a man's mind,'" Paul quoted. "Right out of the Butlerian Jihad and the Orange Catholic Bible," she said. "But what the O.C. Bible should've said is: `Thou shalt not make a machine to counterfeit a human mind.' Have you studied the Mentat in your service?" "I've studied with Thufir Hawat." "The Great Revolt took away a crutch," she said. "It forced human minds to develop. Schools were started to train human talents." "Bene Gesserit schools?" She nodded. "We have two chief survivors of those ancient schools: the Bene Gesserit and the Spacing Guild. The Guild, so we think, emphasizes almost pure mathematics. Bene Gesserit performs another function." "Politics," he said. "Kull wahad!" the old woman said. She sent a hard glance at Jessica
"I've not told him, Your Reverence," Jessica said. The Reverend Mother returned her attention to Paul. "You did that on remarkably few clues," she said. "Politics indeed. The original Bene Gesserit school was directed by those who saw the need of a thread of continuity in human affairs. They saw there could be no such continuity without separating human stock from animal stock—for breeding purposes." The old woman's words abruptly lost their special sharpness for Paul. He felt an offense against what his mother called his instinct for rightness. It wasn't that Reverend Mother lied to him. She obviously believed what she said. It was something deeper, something tied to his terrible purpose. He said: "But my mother tells me many Bene Gesserit of the schools don't know their ancestry." "The genetic lines are always in our records," she said. "Your mother knows that either she's of Bene Gesserit descent or her stock was acceptable in itself." "Then why couldn't she know who her parents are?" "Some do.... Many don't. We might, for example, have wanted to breed her to a close relative to set up a dominant in some genetic trait. We have many reasons." Again, Paul felt the offense against rightness. He said: "You take a lot on yourselves"
The Reverend Mother stared at him, wondering: Did I hear criticism in his voice? "We carry a heavy burden," she said. Paul felt himself coming more and more out of the shock of the test. He leveled a measuring stare at her, said: "You say maybe I'm the ... Kwisatz Haderach. What's that, a human gore jabbar?" "Paul," Jessica said. "You mustn't take that tone with—" "I'll handle this, Jessica," the old woman said. "Now, lad, do you know about the Truthsayer drug?" "You take it to improve your ability to detect falsehood," he said. "My mother's told me." "Have you ever seen truthtrance?" He shook his head. "No." "The drug's dangerous," she said, "but it gives insight. When a Truthsayer's gifted by the drug, she can look many places in her memory—in her body's memory. We look down so many avenues of the past ... but only feminine avenues." Her voice took on a note of sadness. "Yet, there's a place where no Truthsayer can see. We are repelled by it, terrorized. It is said a man will come one day and find in the gift of the drug his inward eye. He will look where we cannot—into both feminine and masculine pasts."
"Your Kwisatz Haderach?" "Yes, the one who can be many places at once: the Kwisatz Haderach. Many men have tried the drug ... so many, but none has succeeded." "They tried and failed, all of them?" "Oh, no." She shook her head. "They tried and died."
.
Read more at http://www.bookdaily.com/book/123958#8GSz4utcDffesSf5.99
ΠΕΡΙ ΠΑΠΑΔΟΠΟΥΛΟΥ
Πολίτης είπεΝοεμβρίου 23, 2012 στις 2:09 μμ
Jerry Kloby, Inequality, power, and development: issues in political sociology, 2004, “Papadopoulos had been a captain in the Nazi Security Battalions”
«Ο Παπαδόπουλος υπήρξε επικεφαλής στα Ναζιστικά Τάγματα Ασφαλείας»
Thomas Bodenheimer Robert Gould Rollback!: right-wing power in US foreign policy, page 31: “The leader, George Papadopoulos, worked with the Nazis in World War II, was trained in the United States, and had been on the CIA payroll for fifteen years”
Jerry Kloby, Inequality, power, and development: issues in political sociology, 2004, “Papadopoulos had been a captain in the Nazi Security Battalions”
«Ο Παπαδόπουλος υπήρξε επικεφαλής στα Ναζιστικά Τάγματα Ασφαλείας»
Thomas Bodenheimer Robert Gould Rollback!: right-wing power in US foreign policy, page 31: “The leader, George Papadopoulos, worked with the Nazis in World War II, was trained in the United States, and had been on the CIA payroll for fifteen years”
Παρασκευή 23 Νοεμβρίου 2012
ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 23/2012
Telltale Signs of Being a Mother
* Your feet stick to grape jelly on the kitchen floor--and you don't care.
* You can't find your cordless phone, so you ask a friend to call you, and you run around the house madly, following the sound until you locate the phone downstairs in the laundry basket.
* Popsicle's become a food staple.
* Your favorite television show is a cartoon.
* You're so desperate for adult conversation that you spill your guts to the telemarketer that calls and HE hangs up on YOU!
* You buy cereal with marshmallows in it.
* You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
* You have time to shave only one leg at a time.
* You hide in the bathroom to be alone.
* Your kid throws up and you catch it.
* You get up at 5:30 AM and you have no time to eat, sleep, drink or go to the bathroom, and yet... you still managed to gain 10 pounds.
* You can't find your cordless phone, so you ask a friend to call you, and you run around the house madly, following the sound until you locate the phone downstairs in the laundry basket.
* Popsicle's become a food staple.
* Your favorite television show is a cartoon.
* You're so desperate for adult conversation that you spill your guts to the telemarketer that calls and HE hangs up on YOU!
* You buy cereal with marshmallows in it.
* You count the sprinkles on each kid's cupcake to make sure they're equal.
* You have time to shave only one leg at a time.
* You hide in the bathroom to be alone.
* Your kid throws up and you catch it.
* You get up at 5:30 AM and you have no time to eat, sleep, drink or go to the bathroom, and yet... you still managed to gain 10 pounds.
Quiz Show Answers
The Weakest Link
Anne Robinson: In traffic, what "J" is where two roads meet? Contestant: Jool carriageway.
Anne Robinson: Which Italian city is overlooked by Vesuvius? Contestant: Bombay.
Robinson: What insect is commonly found hovering above lakes? Contestant: Crocodiles. Robinson: Wh...? Contestant (interrupting): Pass!
Anne Robinson: In olden times, what were minstrels, travelling entertainers or chocolate salesmen? Contestant: Chocolate salesmen.
Robinson: The Bible, the New Testament. The Four Gospels were written by Matthew, Mark, Luke and...? Contestant: (long pause) Joe?
Lincs FM phone-in
Presenter: Which is the largest Spanish-speaking country in the world?
Contestant: Barcelona.
Presenter: I was really after the name of a country.
Contestant: I'm sorry, I don't know the names of any countries in Spain.
Steve Wright Show, Radio 2
Wright: On which continent would you find the River Danube?
Contestant: India.
Wright: What is the Italian word for motorway?
Contestant: Espresso.
Wright: What is the capital of Australia? And it's not Sydney.
Contestant: Sydney.
This Morning
Judy Finnegan: The American TV show 'The Sopranos' is about opera. True or false?
Contestant: True?
Finnegan: No, actually, it's about the Mafia. But it is an American TV show, so I'll give you that.
BBC Radio Newcastle
Paul Wappat: How long did the Six Day War between Egypt and Israel last?
Contestant (after long pause): Fourteen days.
Bob Hope Birthday Quiz, LBC
Presenter: Bob Hope was the fifth of how many sons?
Contestant: Four.
BBC GMR, Phil Wood Show
Wood: What "K" could be described as the Islamic Bible? Contestant: Er...
Wood: It's got two syllables... Kor...
Contestant: Blimey?
Wood: Ha ha ha ha no. The past participle of run...
Anne Robinson: In traffic, what "J" is where two roads meet? Contestant: Jool carriageway.
Anne Robinson: Which Italian city is overlooked by Vesuvius? Contestant: Bombay.
Robinson: What insect is commonly found hovering above lakes? Contestant: Crocodiles. Robinson: Wh...? Contestant (interrupting): Pass!
Anne Robinson: In olden times, what were minstrels, travelling entertainers or chocolate salesmen? Contestant: Chocolate salesmen.
Robinson: The Bible, the New Testament. The Four Gospels were written by Matthew, Mark, Luke and...? Contestant: (long pause) Joe?
Lincs FM phone-in
Presenter: Which is the largest Spanish-speaking country in the world?
Contestant: Barcelona.
Presenter: I was really after the name of a country.
Contestant: I'm sorry, I don't know the names of any countries in Spain.
Steve Wright Show, Radio 2
Wright: On which continent would you find the River Danube?
Contestant: India.
Wright: What is the Italian word for motorway?
Contestant: Espresso.
Wright: What is the capital of Australia? And it's not Sydney.
Contestant: Sydney.
This Morning
Judy Finnegan: The American TV show 'The Sopranos' is about opera. True or false?
Contestant: True?
Finnegan: No, actually, it's about the Mafia. But it is an American TV show, so I'll give you that.
BBC Radio Newcastle
Paul Wappat: How long did the Six Day War between Egypt and Israel last?
Contestant (after long pause): Fourteen days.
Bob Hope Birthday Quiz, LBC
Presenter: Bob Hope was the fifth of how many sons?
Contestant: Four.
BBC GMR, Phil Wood Show
Wood: What "K" could be described as the Islamic Bible? Contestant: Er...
Wood: It's got two syllables... Kor...
Contestant: Blimey?
Wood: Ha ha ha ha no. The past participle of run...
Contestant: (Silence)
Wood: OK, try it another way. Today I run, yesterday I... Contestant: Walked? | ||
Answers from Quiz Shows
National Lottery Jet Set
Eamonn Holmes: What's the name of the playwright commonly known by the initials G.B.S.? Contestant: William Shakespeare. Chris Searle Show, BBC Radio Bristol Searle: In which European country is Mount Etna? Caller: Japan. Searle: I did say which European country, so in case you didn't hear that, I can let you try again. Caller: Er... Mexico? Family Fortunes -- Something a blind man might use? A Sword -- A Song with the word Moon in the title? Blue Suede Moon -- Name the Capital of France? F -- Name a bird with a long Neck? Naomi Campbell -- Name an occupation where you might need a torch? A burglar -- Where is the Taj Mahal? Opposite the Dental Hospital -- A famous Scotsman? Jock -- Some famous brothers? Bonnie and Clyde.
|
ΒΡΑΔΥΝΑ ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 22/11/2012
Late Night Funny #1
The economy is so bad, President Obama sent Susan Rice out to defend it.
Late Night Funny #2
Colorado and Washington just legalized marijuana. If Hostess can't figure out a way to make money off of that, then maybe they shouldn't be in the snack cake industry. I guess I'll just have to take my business to Little Debbie.
Jimmy Kimmel |
Late Night Funny #3
President Obama is in town today. He's visiting the places that were destroyed by Hurricane Sandy. And he's visiting people who lost their power. Those are Republicans, but that's a different story.
David Letterman |
Late Night Funny #4 |
Πέμπτη 22 Νοεμβρίου 2012
Οταν ο ΚΥΡ έχει κέφια 22/11/2012
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ΑΝΕΚΔΟΤΑ 22/11/2012
What it REALLY means
"I can't find it," REALLY MEANS, "It didn't fall into my outstretched hands, so I'm completely clueless."
"That's women's work," REALLY MEANS, "It's dirty, difficult and thankless."
"Will you marry me?" REALLY MEANS, "Both my roommates have moved out, I can't find the washer, and there is no more peanut butter."
"It's a guy thing," REALLY MEANS, "There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical."
"Can I help with dinner?" REALLY MEANS, "Why isn't it already on the table?"
"It would take too long to explain, "REALLY MEANS, "I have no idea how it works."
"That's women's work," REALLY MEANS, "It's dirty, difficult and thankless."
"Will you marry me?" REALLY MEANS, "Both my roommates have moved out, I can't find the washer, and there is no more peanut butter."
"It's a guy thing," REALLY MEANS, "There is no rational thought pattern connected with it, and you have no chance at all of making it logical."
"Can I help with dinner?" REALLY MEANS, "Why isn't it already on the table?"
"It would take too long to explain, "REALLY MEANS, "I have no idea how it works."
"I'm getting more exercise lately," REALLY MEANS, "The batteries in the remote are dead."
Name and Address?
A cop pulled over two drunks, and asked to the first, "What's your name and address?"
"I'm Paddy O'Day, of no fixed address." The cop turned to the second drunk, and asked the same question. "I'm Seamus O'Toole, and I live in the flat above Paddy." |
Secret to a Long Marriage
Some people ask the secret of Anthony's long marriage.
They take time to go to a restaurant two times a week: a little candlelight dinner, soft music, and a slow walk home. The Mrs. goes Tuesdays; He goes Fridays. |
Genie in a Bottle
A man was walking along a California beach and stumbled across an old lamp. He picked it up and rubbed it and out popped a genie. The genie said, "OK, OK. You released me from the lamp...yada yada yada!
This is the fourth time this month and I'm getting a little sick of these wishes so you can forget about three of them. You only get one wish!" The man sat and thought about it for a while and said, "I've always wanted to go to Hawaii but I'm scared to fly and I get very seasick. Could you build me a bridge to Hawaii so I can drive over there to visit?"The genie laughed and said, "That's impossible. Think of the logistics of that! How would the supports ever reach the bottom of the Pacific? Think of how much concrete ... how much steel! Do you know how many engineers I would have to hire to figure how to do it? No, think of another wish." The man said OK and tried to think of a really good wish. Finally, he said, "I've been married and divorced four times. My wives always said that I don't care and that I'm insensitive. So, I wish that I could understand women... know how they feel inside and what they're thinking when they give me the silent treatment... know why they're crying, know what they really want when they say 'nothing'... know how to make them truly happy." The genie paused for a few minutes and then said, "You want that bridge with two lanes or four?" |
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