Feedjit
Monday, 19 August 2013
Friday, 14 June 2013
Monday, 3 June 2013
Forgetfulness
The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag, and even now as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember, it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen. It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. Billy Collins
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrEPJh14mcU
The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag, and even now as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember, it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen. It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. Billy Collins
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wrEPJh14mcU
Thursday, 16 May 2013
Thursday, 9 May 2013
And finally in this bulletin Cadiz has lost the
oldest tree in the city, taken down by
recent winds, the Drago or Dragon tree, was a symbol of the city and
could be found in the “Callejón del Tinte” but at a quarter to seven last night
it came down, crashing down the tree is more than 250 years old and in some
researches think that is closer to 300 and it reaches 12 meters in high. The
loss of the tree has opened a debate about the protection of heritage in the
city the Junta de Andalucia considers the tree can be replanted and recovered
territorial delegate for culture in the Junta Cristina Salcedo said the best
condition of land must be found along with the right humidity and sunshine. She
called for the cooperation of the city
Hall and the decision whether they were able to replant it and the city hall
said that it would be forth coming. Responding to early criticism she said that
the tree has not fallen from any lack of protection by the Junta but by the
weather conditions which were difficult.
And on the Canary Islands they claim their
Drago tree is a thousand years old that’s it for now I’ll be back at three. –Thank
you Howard . A thousand years old!, Wow!, -Yes..there is a video of it on you tube
a video of a tree. –A video of a tree?...( TO BE CONTINUED)
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