Julien Dupre paintings
Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
That strange man,” said Guy, “has got the room opposite me.”
We decided that this would be dull for Guy, for we had often seen these strange old men before and knew that they had no interest to offer, except the dull curiosity of asking why they had come to Oxford. And they were nearly always ready to tell their story of miserly saving and the thirst for knowledge. Therefore when, a fortnight later, Guy began to talk of him again, I was considerably surprised.
“You know, he leads an incredible life; my scout told me that he has never been out to a meal or had a single man in to see him. He doesn’t know one of the other freshers and can’t find his way about Oxford. He’s never heard of half the . I think I shall go in and talk to him one evening. Come up with me.”
So one evening at about half past ten, Guy and I went across to this strange man’s
2008年9月29日星期一
2008年9月28日星期日
George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
George Owen Wynne Apperley paintings
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Bohemians do, we drank a lot, & laughed a lot, and finally all reeled out into the cool air of Regent Street. There were girls with us too, who had their hair cut short though it was not then. The leader of the set was a beautiful youth with red-gold hair whom we all called Ronald. I never learned his sirname though I met him continually for the next year and shared his studio with him. He painted fierce warm-colored ‘abstractions’ in tremendous bouts of energy which left him lethargic and apathetic. He was a great friend of mine in the year I spent in our sham Quartier Latin. For after that night I left the Jews and spent my time with the young art students and futurists. We were a happy enough lot and I should always have looked back to that year as the best of my l if —
“Well, during that year I painted as I have never painted before or since. I painted as I knew I ought to without convention or restraint. I exhibited at the Mansard Gallery and in
Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
Bohemians do, we drank a lot, & laughed a lot, and finally all reeled out into the cool air of Regent Street. There were girls with us too, who had their hair cut short though it was not then. The leader of the set was a beautiful youth with red-gold hair whom we all called Ronald. I never learned his sirname though I met him continually for the next year and shared his studio with him. He painted fierce warm-colored ‘abstractions’ in tremendous bouts of energy which left him lethargic and apathetic. He was a great friend of mine in the year I spent in our sham Quartier Latin. For after that night I left the Jews and spent my time with the young art students and futurists. We were a happy enough lot and I should always have looked back to that year as the best of my l if —
“Well, during that year I painted as I have never painted before or since. I painted as I knew I ought to without convention or restraint. I exhibited at the Mansard Gallery and in
2008年9月25日星期四
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway painting
Joseph Mallord William Turner Rain, Steam and Speed - The Great Western Railway paintingGustave Courbet Marine paintingGustave Courbet Woman with a Parrot painting
subjects.”
“There is nothing I can do.”
“No, I suppose not. Nor in America?”
“Still less there.”
“So I told my wife. But she is a Czech and so more hopeful. We Croats do not hope. It would be a great honour if you would come and explain these things to her. She will not believe me when I say there is no hope. I promised I would bring you.”
So Scott-King dressed and was led through the heat to a new quarter on the edge of the town, to a block of flats.
“We came here because of the elevator. My wife was so weary of Neutralian stairs. But alas the elevator no longer works.”
They trudged to the top floor, to a single sitting room full of children, heavy with the smell of and cigarette smoke.
“I am ashamed to receive you in a house without an elevator,” said Mme. Antonic in French; then turning to the children, she addressed them in another tongue. They bowed, curtsied, and left the room. Mme. Antonic prepared and
subjects.”
“There is nothing I can do.”
“No, I suppose not. Nor in America?”
“Still less there.”
“So I told my wife. But she is a Czech and so more hopeful. We Croats do not hope. It would be a great honour if you would come and explain these things to her. She will not believe me when I say there is no hope. I promised I would bring you.”
So Scott-King dressed and was led through the heat to a new quarter on the edge of the town, to a block of flats.
“We came here because of the elevator. My wife was so weary of Neutralian stairs. But alas the elevator no longer works.”
They trudged to the top floor, to a single sitting room full of children, heavy with the smell of and cigarette smoke.
“I am ashamed to receive you in a house without an elevator,” said Mme. Antonic in French; then turning to the children, she addressed them in another tongue. They bowed, curtsied, and left the room. Mme. Antonic prepared and
Vincent van Gogh Vase with Twelve Sunflowers painting
Vincent van Gogh Vase with Twelve Sunflowers paintingVincent van Gogh The Olive Trees paintingVincent van Gogh Still Life with Open Bible painting
Hullo, you two,” he said, “would you like to make yourselves useful? My press has arrived. I thought you might help put it together.” He led them into his room, where half-opened crates filled most of the floor. “It was all in one piece when I bought it. All I’ve got to go on is this.” He showed them a woodcut in an old book. “They didn’t change much from Caxton’s day until the steam presses came in. This one is about a hundred years old.”
“Damned sweat,” muttered Tamplin.
“And here, young Ryder, is the ‘movable type’ you deplore so much.”
“What sort of type is it, sir?”
“We’ll have to find out. I bought the whole thing in one lot from a village stationer.”
They took out letters at random, set them, and took an impression by pressing them, inked, on a sheet of paper. Mr. Graves had an album of typefaces.
“They all look the same to me,” said Tamplin.
In spite of his prejudice, Charles was interested. “I’ve got it, I think, sir; Baskerville.”
“No. Look at the serifs. How about Caslon Old Style?”
At last it was identified. Then Charles found a box full of ornamental initials, menu
Hullo, you two,” he said, “would you like to make yourselves useful? My press has arrived. I thought you might help put it together.” He led them into his room, where half-opened crates filled most of the floor. “It was all in one piece when I bought it. All I’ve got to go on is this.” He showed them a woodcut in an old book. “They didn’t change much from Caxton’s day until the steam presses came in. This one is about a hundred years old.”
“Damned sweat,” muttered Tamplin.
“And here, young Ryder, is the ‘movable type’ you deplore so much.”
“What sort of type is it, sir?”
“We’ll have to find out. I bought the whole thing in one lot from a village stationer.”
They took out letters at random, set them, and took an impression by pressing them, inked, on a sheet of paper. Mr. Graves had an album of typefaces.
“They all look the same to me,” said Tamplin.
In spite of his prejudice, Charles was interested. “I’ve got it, I think, sir; Baskerville.”
“No. Look at the serifs. How about Caslon Old Style?”
At last it was identified. Then Charles found a box full of ornamental initials, menu
2008年9月24日星期三
Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window painting
Marc Chagall Paris Through the Window paintingMarc Chagall Lovers in the Moonlight paintingMarc Chagall Adam and Eve painting
“Does Lucy mind?”
“Of course she minds. It’s driving us both nuts. Does she write you a lot of letters?”
“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
“I don’t read them. I feel as though they were meant for somebody else. Besides they’re in pencil.”
“I expect she writes them in bed. No one’s ever gone for me like that.”
“Nor for me,” I said. “It’s not really at all disagreeable.”
“I daresay not,” said Roger. “I thought only actors and sex-novelists and clergymen came in for it.”
“No, no, anybody may—scientists, politicians, professional cyclists—anyone whose name gets into the papers. It’s just that young girls are naturally religious.”
“Julia’s eighteen.”
“She’ll get over it soon. She’s been stirred up by suddenly meeting me in the flesh after two or three years’ distant devotion. She’s a nice child.”
“Does Lucy mind?”
“Of course she minds. It’s driving us both nuts. Does she write you a lot of letters?”
“Yes.”
“What does she say?”
“I don’t read them. I feel as though they were meant for somebody else. Besides they’re in pencil.”
“I expect she writes them in bed. No one’s ever gone for me like that.”
“Nor for me,” I said. “It’s not really at all disagreeable.”
“I daresay not,” said Roger. “I thought only actors and sex-novelists and clergymen came in for it.”
“No, no, anybody may—scientists, politicians, professional cyclists—anyone whose name gets into the papers. It’s just that young girls are naturally religious.”
“Julia’s eighteen.”
“She’ll get over it soon. She’s been stirred up by suddenly meeting me in the flesh after two or three years’ distant devotion. She’s a nice child.”
2008年9月22日星期一
Frida Kahlo The Frame painting
Frida Kahlo The Frame paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Necklace painting
last visit to him; it represented an old shipwright pondering on the idle dockyard where lay the great skeleton of the Cunarder that was later to be known as the Queen Mary. It was to have been called “Too Big?” My father had given the man a grizzled beard and was revelling in it. That was the last time I saw him.
I had given up living in St. John’s Wood for four or five years. There was never a definite moment when I “left.” For all official purposes the house remained my domicile. There was a bedroom that was known as mine; I kept several trunks full of clothes there and a shelf or two of books. I never set up for myself anywhere else, but during the last five years of my father’s I do not suppose I slept ten nights under his roof. This was not due to any estrangement. I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy mine; had I settled there permanently, with a servant of my own and a separate telephone number, we might have lived together comfortably enough, but I was never in London for more than a week or two at a time, and I found that as an occasional visitor I strained and upset my father’s
last visit to him; it represented an old shipwright pondering on the idle dockyard where lay the great skeleton of the Cunarder that was later to be known as the Queen Mary. It was to have been called “Too Big?” My father had given the man a grizzled beard and was revelling in it. That was the last time I saw him.
I had given up living in St. John’s Wood for four or five years. There was never a definite moment when I “left.” For all official purposes the house remained my domicile. There was a bedroom that was known as mine; I kept several trunks full of clothes there and a shelf or two of books. I never set up for myself anywhere else, but during the last five years of my father’s I do not suppose I slept ten nights under his roof. This was not due to any estrangement. I enjoyed his company, and he seemed to enjoy mine; had I settled there permanently, with a servant of my own and a separate telephone number, we might have lived together comfortably enough, but I was never in London for more than a week or two at a time, and I found that as an occasional visitor I strained and upset my father’s
2008年9月21日星期日
Vincent van Gogh Cornfield with Cypresses painting
Vincent van Gogh Cornfield with Cypresses paintingUnknown Artist Ford Smith Just Between Us paintingUnknown Artist Apple Tree with Red Fruit painting
Gervase—so like Tom but more handsome; with all Tom’s charm but with more personality. Beset with these thoughts, she rolled on the hard and irregular bed until dawn began to show through the lancet window of the Victorian-baronial turret. She loved that turret for all its discomfort. It was so antique.
XII
Mrs. Kent-Cumberland was an active woman. It was less than ten days after the MacDougals’ visit that she returned triumphantly from a day in London. After dinner, when she sat alone with Tom in the small drawing-room, she said:
“You’ll be very much surprised to hear who I saw to day. Gladys.”
“Gladys?”
“Gladys Cruttwell.”
“Good heavens. Where on earth did you meet her?”
“It was quite by chance,” said his mother vaguely. “She is working there now.”
“How was she?”
“Very pretty. Prettier, if anything.”
Gervase—so like Tom but more handsome; with all Tom’s charm but with more personality. Beset with these thoughts, she rolled on the hard and irregular bed until dawn began to show through the lancet window of the Victorian-baronial turret. She loved that turret for all its discomfort. It was so antique.
XII
Mrs. Kent-Cumberland was an active woman. It was less than ten days after the MacDougals’ visit that she returned triumphantly from a day in London. After dinner, when she sat alone with Tom in the small drawing-room, she said:
“You’ll be very much surprised to hear who I saw to day. Gladys.”
“Gladys?”
“Gladys Cruttwell.”
“Good heavens. Where on earth did you meet her?”
“It was quite by chance,” said his mother vaguely. “She is working there now.”
“How was she?”
“Very pretty. Prettier, if anything.”
2008年9月19日星期五
Leroy Neiman World Class Skier painting
Leroy Neiman World Class Skier painting
Leroy Neiman Winter Olympic Skiing painting
Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup painting
inconsiderable young men, but the seated figure instantly arrested his attention and froze his bland smile. This was an elderly, large man, quite bald, with a vast white face that spread down and out far beyond the normal limits. It was like Mother Hippo in Tiger Tim; it was like an evening shirt-front in a du Maurier drawing; down in the depths of the face was a little crimson smirking mouth; and, above it, eyes that had a shifty, deprecating look, like those of a temporary butler caught out stealing shirts.
Lady Metroland seldom affronted her guests’ reticence by introducing them.
“Dear Rip,” she said, “it’s lovely to see you again. I’ve got all the gang together for you, you see,” and then noticing that his eyes were fixed upon the stranger, added, “Doctor Kakophilos, this is Mr. Van Winkle. Doctor Kakophilos,” she added, “is a great magician. Norah brought him, I can’t think why.”
“?”
“Magician. Norah says there’s nothing he can’t do.”
“How do you do?” said Rip.
“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law,” said Dr. Kakophilos, in a thin Cockney voice.
Leroy Neiman Winter Olympic Skiing painting
Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup painting
inconsiderable young men, but the seated figure instantly arrested his attention and froze his bland smile. This was an elderly, large man, quite bald, with a vast white face that spread down and out far beyond the normal limits. It was like Mother Hippo in Tiger Tim; it was like an evening shirt-front in a du Maurier drawing; down in the depths of the face was a little crimson smirking mouth; and, above it, eyes that had a shifty, deprecating look, like those of a temporary butler caught out stealing shirts.
Lady Metroland seldom affronted her guests’ reticence by introducing them.
“Dear Rip,” she said, “it’s lovely to see you again. I’ve got all the gang together for you, you see,” and then noticing that his eyes were fixed upon the stranger, added, “Doctor Kakophilos, this is Mr. Van Winkle. Doctor Kakophilos,” she added, “is a great magician. Norah brought him, I can’t think why.”
“?”
“Magician. Norah says there’s nothing he can’t do.”
“How do you do?” said Rip.
“Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law,” said Dr. Kakophilos, in a thin Cockney voice.
Gustave Courbet The Origin of the World painting
Gustave Courbet The Origin of the World paintingGustave Courbet Plage de Normandie paintingThomas Kinkade HOMETOWN MORNING painting
Two days later Mr. Youkoumian appeared at Mr. Brooks’s bungalow. “A letter from Miss Brooks,” he said. “A Sakuya fellow brought it in. I give im a rupee.”
It was an untidy scrawl on the back of an envelope.
Dearest Dad,
I am safe at present and fairly well. On no account attempt to follow the messenger. Joab and the bandits would torture me to death. Please send gramophone and records. Do come to terms or I don’t know what will happen.
Prunella.
It was the first of a series of notes which, from now on, arrived every two or three days through the agency of Mr. Youkoumian. They mostly contained requests for small personal possessions ...
Dearest Dad,
Not those records. The dance ones..... Please send face cream in pot in bathroom, also illustrated papers ... the green silk pajamas ... Lucky Strike cigarettes ... two light drill skirts and the sleeveless silk shirts ...
Two days later Mr. Youkoumian appeared at Mr. Brooks’s bungalow. “A letter from Miss Brooks,” he said. “A Sakuya fellow brought it in. I give im a rupee.”
It was an untidy scrawl on the back of an envelope.
Dearest Dad,
I am safe at present and fairly well. On no account attempt to follow the messenger. Joab and the bandits would torture me to death. Please send gramophone and records. Do come to terms or I don’t know what will happen.
Prunella.
It was the first of a series of notes which, from now on, arrived every two or three days through the agency of Mr. Youkoumian. They mostly contained requests for small personal possessions ...
Dearest Dad,
Not those records. The dance ones..... Please send face cream in pot in bathroom, also illustrated papers ... the green silk pajamas ... Lucky Strike cigarettes ... two light drill skirts and the sleeveless silk shirts ...
2008年9月18日星期四
Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema In the Tepidarium painting
Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema In the Tepidarium paintingMarc Chagall I and the Village paintingMarc Chagall Birthday painting
daresay some of you know his work. Well, I’ve called him in to help us and I hope that when he’s heard the plan he’ll consent to join us. I want to produce a film of Hamlet. I daresay you don’t think that’s a very original idea—but it’s Angle that counts in the film world. I’m going to do it from an entirely new angle. That’s why I’ve called in Mr. Lent. I want him to write dialogue for us.”
“But, surely,” said Simon, “there’s quite a lot of dialogue there already?”
“Ah, you don’t see my angle. There have been plenty of productions of Shakespeare in modern dress. We are going to produce him in modern speech. How can you expect the public to enjoy Shakespeare when they can’t make head or tail of the dialogue. D’you know I began reading a copy the other day and blessed if I could understand it. At once I said, ‘What the public wants is Shakespeare with all his beauty of thought and character
daresay some of you know his work. Well, I’ve called him in to help us and I hope that when he’s heard the plan he’ll consent to join us. I want to produce a film of Hamlet. I daresay you don’t think that’s a very original idea—but it’s Angle that counts in the film world. I’m going to do it from an entirely new angle. That’s why I’ve called in Mr. Lent. I want him to write dialogue for us.”
“But, surely,” said Simon, “there’s quite a lot of dialogue there already?”
“Ah, you don’t see my angle. There have been plenty of productions of Shakespeare in modern dress. We are going to produce him in modern speech. How can you expect the public to enjoy Shakespeare when they can’t make head or tail of the dialogue. D’you know I began reading a copy the other day and blessed if I could understand it. At once I said, ‘What the public wants is Shakespeare with all his beauty of thought and character
2008年9月16日星期二
Vincent van Gogh Bedroom Arles painting
Vincent van Gogh Bedroom Arles paintingVincent van Gogh Almond Branches in Bloom paintingJoseph Mallord William Turner The Grand Canal Venice painting
studio at Maltby’s is already half full of young students when Adam enters. Work has not yet started, but the room is alive with busy preparation. A young woman in an overall—looking rather more like a chorus girl than a painter—is making herself very dirty cleaning her palette; another near by is setting up an easel; a third is sharpening a pencil; a fourth is smoking a cigarette in a long holder. A young man, also in an overall, is holding a drawing and appraising it at arm’s length, his head slightly on one side; a young man with untidy hair is disagreeing with him. Old Mr. Maltby, an inspiring figure in a shabby silk dressing gown, is telling a tearful student that if she misses another composition class, she will be asked to leave the school. Miss Philbrick, the secretary, interrupts the argument between the two young men to remind them that neither of them has paid his fee for the month. The girl who was setting up the easel is trying to borrow some “fixative”; the girl with the cigarette holder lends her some. Mr. Maltby is complaining of the grittiness of the charcoal they make nowadays. Surely this is the Quartier Latin itself?
The “set,” too, has been conscientiously planned. The walls
studio at Maltby’s is already half full of young students when Adam enters. Work has not yet started, but the room is alive with busy preparation. A young woman in an overall—looking rather more like a chorus girl than a painter—is making herself very dirty cleaning her palette; another near by is setting up an easel; a third is sharpening a pencil; a fourth is smoking a cigarette in a long holder. A young man, also in an overall, is holding a drawing and appraising it at arm’s length, his head slightly on one side; a young man with untidy hair is disagreeing with him. Old Mr. Maltby, an inspiring figure in a shabby silk dressing gown, is telling a tearful student that if she misses another composition class, she will be asked to leave the school. Miss Philbrick, the secretary, interrupts the argument between the two young men to remind them that neither of them has paid his fee for the month. The girl who was setting up the easel is trying to borrow some “fixative”; the girl with the cigarette holder lends her some. Mr. Maltby is complaining of the grittiness of the charcoal they make nowadays. Surely this is the Quartier Latin itself?
The “set,” too, has been conscientiously planned. The walls
Pino Angelica painting
Pino Angelica paintingPablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette paintingPablo Picasso Gertrude Stein painting
The Corpus Clock will be unveiled by Prof Stephen Hawking The Corpus Clock has been invented and designed by Dr John Taylor for Corpus Christi College Cambridge for the exterior of the college's new library building.
It will be unveiled on 19 September by Prof Stephen Hawking, cosmologist and author of the global bestseller, A Brief History of Time.
Dr Taylor, an inventor and horologist who studied at the college in the 1950s has put £1 million of his own money and five years into the project.
"One of my heroes is John Harrison," he says.
Of Harrison's many innovations, he came up with the 'grasshopper escapement', explained Dr Taylor, referring to the device used by Harrison to turn rotational motion into a pendulum motion for timekeeping.
The Corpus Clock will be unveiled by Prof Stephen Hawking The Corpus Clock has been invented and designed by Dr John Taylor for Corpus Christi College Cambridge for the exterior of the college's new library building.
It will be unveiled on 19 September by Prof Stephen Hawking, cosmologist and author of the global bestseller, A Brief History of Time.
Dr Taylor, an inventor and horologist who studied at the college in the 1950s has put £1 million of his own money and five years into the project.
"One of my heroes is John Harrison," he says.
Of Harrison's many innovations, he came up with the 'grasshopper escapement', explained Dr Taylor, referring to the device used by Harrison to turn rotational motion into a pendulum motion for timekeeping.
2008年9月14日星期日
Salvador Dali Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate painting
Salvador Dali Dream Caused by the Flight of a Bee around a Pomegranate paintingSalvador Dali Salvador Dali Bacchanale paintingSalvador Dali Salvador Dali Ascension painting
unfortunately woofing, I butted with such force that he knocked a second down, and our way was clear to the lift. And in the lobby, where demented undergraduates and faculty of both sexes swung from light-fixtures, raced in wheelchairs, coupled on the carpet, shat in typewriters, or merely stood transfixed in curious attitudes, I laid about ruthlessly with my stick, cut an angry swath, and roughly gimped through bedlam with my mother. I could not have explained my fury, or told why, when it occurred to me that Love and Hate must be in truth distinctions as false as True and False, that sagacious reflection nowise clarified my mind or calmed my spirit.
I hailed the only taxi at the Annex door and bade the driver take us to Tower Hall. Newsboys hawked in the fading afternoon:Power Lines Moving Together: Fear Riot Near; Rexford Raps Mrs., Raises Roof. The tidings brought me no pleasure. Through a small loudspeaker in our sidecar came further news: so-called "Moderate" elements were resigning from the Administration to protest the Chancellor's recognition of extremists; Ira
unfortunately woofing, I butted with such force that he knocked a second down, and our way was clear to the lift. And in the lobby, where demented undergraduates and faculty of both sexes swung from light-fixtures, raced in wheelchairs, coupled on the carpet, shat in typewriters, or merely stood transfixed in curious attitudes, I laid about ruthlessly with my stick, cut an angry swath, and roughly gimped through bedlam with my mother. I could not have explained my fury, or told why, when it occurred to me that Love and Hate must be in truth distinctions as false as True and False, that sagacious reflection nowise clarified my mind or calmed my spirit.
I hailed the only taxi at the Annex door and bade the driver take us to Tower Hall. Newsboys hawked in the fading afternoon:Power Lines Moving Together: Fear Riot Near; Rexford Raps Mrs., Raises Roof. The tidings brought me no pleasure. Through a small loudspeaker in our sidecar came further news: so-called "Moderate" elements were resigning from the Administration to protest the Chancellor's recognition of extremists; Ira
2008年9月11日星期四
Thomas Kinkade Key West
Thomas Kinkade Key WestThomas Kinkade GracelandThomas Kinkade Fisherman's Wharf
failure and passage. Truly now those paradoxes became paroxysms: I shut my eyes, swayed on Croaker's shoulders, trembled and sweated. All things converged: I understood what I had done to Dr. Eierkopf with my innocent question about paleoooontological priority. That circular device on my Assignment-sheet --
beginningless, endless, infinite equivalence -- constricted my reason like a torture-tool from the Age of Faith. Passagewas Failure, and Failure Passage; yet Passage was Passage, Failure Failure! Equally true, none was the Answer; the two were not different, neither were they the same; andtrue andfalse, andsame anddifferent -- unspeakable! Unnamable! Unimaginable! Surely my mind must crack!
"What is it?" Greene asked. "What's going on, Leo?"
"I can't see, classmate."
The troopers murmured at my strange countenance and behavior; Croaker rumbled, feeling my thigh-grip on his neck, and stood up in the sidecar.
"Don't try to get loose!" No doubt it was Leonid Stoker warned, but his words
failure and passage. Truly now those paradoxes became paroxysms: I shut my eyes, swayed on Croaker's shoulders, trembled and sweated. All things converged: I understood what I had done to Dr. Eierkopf with my innocent question about paleoooontological priority. That circular device on my Assignment-sheet --
beginningless, endless, infinite equivalence -- constricted my reason like a torture-tool from the Age of Faith. Passagewas Failure, and Failure Passage; yet Passage was Passage, Failure Failure! Equally true, none was the Answer; the two were not different, neither were they the same; andtrue andfalse, andsame anddifferent -- unspeakable! Unnamable! Unimaginable! Surely my mind must crack!
"What is it?" Greene asked. "What's going on, Leo?"
"I can't see, classmate."
The troopers murmured at my strange countenance and behavior; Croaker rumbled, feeling my thigh-grip on his neck, and stood up in the sidecar.
"Don't try to get loose!" No doubt it was Leonid Stoker warned, but his words
2008年9月10日星期三
Irene Sheri paintings
Irene Sheri paintings
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
love, the way the Founder tested people in the Old Syllabus."
"Anastasia. . ." The name seemed strange to me now, and her hair's rich smell. What was it I held, and calledAnastasia? A slender bagful of meaty pipes and pouches, grown upon with hairs, soaked through with juices, strung up on jointed sticks, the whole thing pulsing, squirting, bubbling, flexing, combusting, and respiring in my arms; doomed soon enough to decompose into its elements, yet afflicted in the brief meanwhile with mad imaginings, so that, not content to jelly through the night and meld, ingest, divide, it troubled its sleep with dreams ofpassèdness, oflove . . .
She squeezed more tightly; I felt the blood-muscle pumping behind her teat, through no governance ofAnastasia. My penis rose, unbid byGeorge ; was it a George of its own? A quarter-billion beasties were set to swarm therefrom and thrash like salmon up the mucous of her womb; were they little Georges all?
I groaned. "I don't understand anything!"
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky paintings
Il'ya Repin paintings
love, the way the Founder tested people in the Old Syllabus."
"Anastasia. . ." The name seemed strange to me now, and her hair's rich smell. What was it I held, and calledAnastasia? A slender bagful of meaty pipes and pouches, grown upon with hairs, soaked through with juices, strung up on jointed sticks, the whole thing pulsing, squirting, bubbling, flexing, combusting, and respiring in my arms; doomed soon enough to decompose into its elements, yet afflicted in the brief meanwhile with mad imaginings, so that, not content to jelly through the night and meld, ingest, divide, it troubled its sleep with dreams ofpassèdness, oflove . . .
She squeezed more tightly; I felt the blood-muscle pumping behind her teat, through no governance ofAnastasia. My penis rose, unbid byGeorge ; was it a George of its own? A quarter-billion beasties were set to swarm therefrom and thrash like salmon up the mucous of her womb; were they little Georges all?
I groaned. "I don't understand anything!"
2008年9月8日星期一
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
Maurice?"If she was anguished before, now she was simply shocked. "You mean. . . make love to myhusband? What would hethink!"
His thoughts, I told her, were not important; her Commencement was, and it depended on her overcoming the false distinctions I had formerly burdened her with. Yes, she must seduce her own husband, overwhelm him with carnalities of every description, even Conscious Depravities. Moreover, for both their sakes she must cuckold him; commit fornications without his knowledge and against his wishes.
"That'simpossible!" she protested. "You know how Maurice is!" But her eyes refilled as she remembered, visibly, that he'd been neither brute nor pander since my first false Tutoring, but so chaste and docile a spouse he'd often made her cross. "That would beadultery, George!"
This last was more than refusal, and setting the teeth of my spirit I insisted she deceive her husband, not only with Bray but with for example Dr. Eierkopf and
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
Maurice?"If she was anguished before, now she was simply shocked. "You mean. . . make love to myhusband? What would hethink!"
His thoughts, I told her, were not important; her Commencement was, and it depended on her overcoming the false distinctions I had formerly burdened her with. Yes, she must seduce her own husband, overwhelm him with carnalities of every description, even Conscious Depravities. Moreover, for both their sakes she must cuckold him; commit fornications without his knowledge and against his wishes.
"That'simpossible!" she protested. "You know how Maurice is!" But her eyes refilled as she remembered, visibly, that he'd been neither brute nor pander since my first false Tutoring, but so chaste and docile a spouse he'd often made her cross. "That would beadultery, George!"
This last was more than refusal, and setting the teeth of my spirit I insisted she deceive her husband, not only with Bray but with for example Dr. Eierkopf and
2008年9月5日星期五
Flamenco Dancer paintings
Flamenco Dancer paintings
Franz Marc paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
had to work fast, and we made two grand mistakes right in the start; we taught it how to teach itself and get smarter without our help, and we showed it how to make its ownpolicy out of its knowledge. After that the WESCAC went its own way, and it wasn't till a while we realized a dreadful thing: not one of us could tell for sure any more that its interests were the same as ours!
"So. We were winning the Riot by that time, but it was left yet to makekaput the Siegfrieders and their colleagues the Amaterasus, and we knew we'd lose thousands of students before we were done. Then we found out a thing we were already afraid of: that the Bonifacists were working on an EAT-project of their own. It was their only chance to win the Riot: if we didn't end things in a hurry they'd be sure to EAT us, because all WESCAC wanted was to learn the trick, never mind who taught it or who got killed. We won the race. . ."
I commenced to fidget. Intriguing though it was, Max's account had no bearing that I could discern upon my pressing interests. But my keeper's face now was altogether
Franz Marc paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
had to work fast, and we made two grand mistakes right in the start; we taught it how to teach itself and get smarter without our help, and we showed it how to make its ownpolicy out of its knowledge. After that the WESCAC went its own way, and it wasn't till a while we realized a dreadful thing: not one of us could tell for sure any more that its interests were the same as ours!
"So. We were winning the Riot by that time, but it was left yet to makekaput the Siegfrieders and their colleagues the Amaterasus, and we knew we'd lose thousands of students before we were done. Then we found out a thing we were already afraid of: that the Bonifacists were working on an EAT-project of their own. It was their only chance to win the Riot: if we didn't end things in a hurry they'd be sure to EAT us, because all WESCAC wanted was to learn the trick, never mind who taught it or who got killed. We won the race. . ."
I commenced to fidget. Intriguing though it was, Max's account had no bearing that I could discern upon my pressing interests. But my keeper's face now was altogether
2008年9月4日星期四
San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf
San Francisco Fisherman's WharfParis City of LightsNew Horizons
sprang from Mother's lap. "Passèdare the flunked, Mom!"
Like an old Enochist at the end of a petition, she touched her temples, closed her eyes, and murmured, "A-plus, dear Founder!"
Commencèd woman; womb that bore me! No matter, how much she grasped of her own wisdom: Truth's vessel needn't understand its contents. When I said -- to myself, really -- "Bray's not the enemy; WESCAC is!" she replied, "Your passèd father, Gilesey; and He loves me yet," as if I'd praised instead of blamed that root and fruit of Differentiation. Yet when I exclaimed, "They were all passed, every one, and didn't know it -- but I failed them!" she repeated,"Passèd are the flunked. A -plus!" and one more scale fell from my eyes. I yearned to be alone, to study the paradox of my new Answer; then to begone, that
sprang from Mother's lap. "Passèdare the flunked, Mom!"
Like an old Enochist at the end of a petition, she touched her temples, closed her eyes, and murmured, "A-plus, dear Founder!"
Commencèd woman; womb that bore me! No matter, how much she grasped of her own wisdom: Truth's vessel needn't understand its contents. When I said -- to myself, really -- "Bray's not the enemy; WESCAC is!" she replied, "Your passèd father, Gilesey; and He loves me yet," as if I'd praised instead of blamed that root and fruit of Differentiation. Yet when I exclaimed, "They were all passed, every one, and didn't know it -- but I failed them!" she repeated,"Passèd are the flunked. A -plus!" and one more scale fell from my eyes. I yearned to be alone, to study the paradox of my new Answer; then to begone, that
2008年9月2日星期二
Pablo Picasso The Old Guitarist painting
Pablo Picasso The Old Guitarist paintingPablo Picasso Girl Before a Mirror paintingClaude Monet Sunflowers painting
other person who entered the Belly would be EATen at once. Even as I read this terse pronouncement the small door opened -- a round port with a lap-leaved shutter that enlarged octagonally like a camera's. The chamber beyond was entirely dark. To forestall any trickery I snatched Bray's cape -- stiffer and slipperier than it looked to be -- and declared we would go in together.
"Why not? I should tell you the examining procedure in advance, though, since you're sure I'm about to be EATen." We would be scanned, he said, the instant we stepped through the port, and Electroencephalic Amplification and Transmission should ensue, if it was called for, either immediately or after I'd replied to one preliminary question and three main questions which would appear successively on a small central display-screen. Each was to be answered simplyyes orno by pressing either the right or left button respectively of a two-button box suspended over the screen.
other person who entered the Belly would be EATen at once. Even as I read this terse pronouncement the small door opened -- a round port with a lap-leaved shutter that enlarged octagonally like a camera's. The chamber beyond was entirely dark. To forestall any trickery I snatched Bray's cape -- stiffer and slipperier than it looked to be -- and declared we would go in together.
"Why not? I should tell you the examining procedure in advance, though, since you're sure I'm about to be EATen." We would be scanned, he said, the instant we stepped through the port, and Electroencephalic Amplification and Transmission should ensue, if it was called for, either immediately or after I'd replied to one preliminary question and three main questions which would appear successively on a small central display-screen. Each was to be answered simplyyes orno by pressing either the right or left button respectively of a two-button box suspended over the screen.
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