Jeff & the Wall(s) in our heads

It's like with (some) paintings. How often did you hear someone - or yourself :) saying something like this: “Sure, my two-year-old could do better than that.”? *

End of the beforegoing.

Apart from being ... well ... large-sized, Jeff Wall's photographs - are interesting.
Let's take for example

Insomnia *

On first sight it looks easily done, like a snapshot, but ...

What I like about Jeff Wall: He does not wish to transport a mission, he does not even intend to tell a story (at least he says so); he leaves all to the viewer / contemplator.
It is as if a reader writes the story, each reader his own.

Huh, however: two or more years preparation for one photograph - that's a bit ...

... but who am I to complete my thought(s)?

Am I not a bit ..., myself?

Aren't we all?

Or, at least, most of us?

What do you think?


* With pleasure I do once again commend to read A Doubtful Egg's post about Them Bleedin' Artists ...
Take your time, contemplate, reflect and ... leave him your opinion.

** There is quite a lot to discover in Tate's Gallery and Moma.
Enjoy.

Business as usual

Well, as tonight watching a shaking reportage from Ingushetia in which (to my surprise) the President - ha ha ha - of Chechenia, Ramzan Kadyrov (will he sue the reporter? ha ha ha) has been called a butcher, and in which apart of some terrible details and one (of uncounted) atrocious murders I learned that taxi drivers would not go on road without their kalashnikov, I thought how privileged I am that in Seanhenge it means something completely different when talking about business as usual.

Our watch-cat* somewhere in the garden, ...

and on her rocket chair.

* won't tell her name, as it would take too long to explain its origin. :)

Personal note

Somehow I needed a short hiatus.
The Estemirova murder made me (almost) furious.
And afterwards to post poems or nice garden idylls I thought to be devious.
Neither I have been visiting other bloggers for quite a while.

Good to know you'll forgive me with a lenient smile. :)

Just a thought 008

All the gang of those who rule us
Hope our quarrels never stop
Helping them to split and fool us
So they can remain on top.
Bertold Brecht

Who will be the next?

Wednesday morning:
During my four hours writing, I suddenly think of Anna Mikhalchuk / Anna Alchuck (scroll down til 'In the burning house'). Did any journalist / media investigate her death?
Scribbling her name.

***

No surprise that when about two hours later I type her name to find that after her death (obviously) she was immediately ... forgotten.

* * *

At the same time a satphone might have rung. Someone in Moscow calling someone in Grosny.

- [...] Officially Dmitry will, of course, condemn this very sad event, Ramzan. However: well done.

- Ha ha, I love your humor, Vladimir. Glad you enjoyed it. We'll have a big party tonight, anyway. [...]

* * *

The laughing idiot (not only in the classical sense) wouldn't - also, of course - not know about the 'u' in humour. In so far he's as intelligent as f.e. Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld & Co., and - let's say the criminal Peace-Nobelprize winner Kissinger.

They would never spell humour h-u-m-o-u-r.

As for Putin & Kadyrov.
Kadyrov for Putin is somehow what Margaret Thatcher's "dear friend" Augusto (amongst others) was for (criminals like) Kissinger (scroll to Intervention in Chile / Argentina), Nixon et al - a useful idiot.

* * *

To cut an otherwise long post short:
I am sad. I do feel enraged. And helpless. Could I kill that bastard Kadyrov? Would I do it, if I had the chance?

Hm ...

Is the ruthless criminal Kadyrov - I repeat: the ruthless criminal Kadyrov [a: Come on, sue me, Mr Kadyrov! [Just to make sure: Sue* me, I wrote; I did not ask you (or the "flawless democrat Vladimir Putin" (quoting here a certain Gerhard Schröder); to send one of your assassins ; b) sorry, dear readers, that I would let sink myself on such a low level, but I see no reason to doubt that Mr Kadyrov is what his master Putin (in another context) would call a 'vermin' - and RRP / Russia's real President (sometimes) wouldn't err, hm?]

I do, f.e. remember Vladimir 'Ras' Putin once saying (to alleged Chechen 'terrorists'): 'We shall squelch these animals/critters/vermin'.

* * *

Why would people like Gandhi, King, Dink, Politkovskaya get murdered, and such an evil creature enjoy life?!

:) ... because people like me would not kill the bastards! Helplessness. Bloody helplessness.

Long live the evil! ?

Or, in other words: Well ... that's politics.

Ha ha ha ... what a post! What a silly post. What a fucking silly post.

A post to honour Natasha (sic) Estemirova.

To honour her with all my heart.

And to type (mind you: not to google): List of murdered Russian journalists.

to be continued ...

The peace of the night.


* :) with thanks to Bertus (see comment section)

As for traditions

Tradition is not about keeping the ashes,
but to pass on the matches.

Quite.

A phrase that can be seen in a different light, though, when f.e. remembering what happened today 21 years ago in Drumcree.

Photo taken in what Republicans prefer to call Derry,
and Loyalists Londonderry.

Well, today's brave "traditionalists" will have been marching again along kerbs being painted in the colours of the Union Jack, thus celebrating what they think was their - ha ha ha - 'glorious victory' once upon a time, 319 years ago.
I'd not be surprised would there already exist a comitee preparing the 400th anniversary in 2090.

Oh well, meanwhile I shall peel an orange.

As for religions

"All original religions are allegorical,
or susceptible of allegory,
and, like Janus, have a double face
of false and true."

Percy Bysshe Shelley (4 August 1792 – 8 July 1822)


If a person's religious ideas
correspond not with your own,
love him nevertheless.
How different would yours have been,
had the chance of birth
placed you in Tartary or India.

Shelley,
1812, Declaration of Rights, article 25

Liszts's Lovedream

You listened to his debut performance with the Berlin Philharmony?
Well, in 2007 Evgeny Kissin was twice as old.
And obviously he's been heeding Franz Liszt's advice.

Enjoy.

Not only for pianists

If I don't exercise one day, I notice it; if I don't exercise two days, my friends notice it; if I don't exercise three days, the audience notice it.

Wenn ich einen Tag lang nicht übe, merke ich es. Wenn ich zwei Tage lang nicht übe, merken es meine Freunde. Wenn ich drei Tage lang nicht übe, merkt es das Publikum.

Franz Liszt

Young genius meets old genius

Tonight I came to think of this very performance, to share my pleasure typed Kissin, Karajan, Tchaikowsky and ... sometimes I could kiss the internet :) ... voilà.

Enjoy Piano Concerto N 1, III Alegro con fuono by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, after which on 31 December 1988 Herbert von Karajan was moved to tears and when shaking hands with the boys mother only said: "A genius."

A tragedy, Mr Erdoğan is so utterly stupid

Turkey's prime minister has described ethnic violence in China's Xinjiang region as "a kind of genocide".
"There is no other way of commenting on this event," Recep Tayyip Erdogan said.
He spoke after a night-time curfew was reimposed in Xinjiang's capital, Urumqi, where Muslim Uighurs and Han Chinese clashed last Sunday.
The death toll from the violence there has now risen from 156 to 184, China's state-run Xinhua news agency reports. More than 1,000 people were injured.
Turkey, a predominantly Muslim country, shares linguistic and religious links with the Uighurs in China's western-most region.
Full BBC-article here.

This is most interesting. What happened to Armenians in the Ottoman era, thus before the Turkish Republic was founded, Erdoğan Effendi - sic! ha ha ha - would call "a tragedy", and his Magnificent Stupidity would feel insulted by those who would call a genocide a genocide.

What a ... oh, well - to be continued ...

Meanwhile you might like to read some post which are corroborating this post's title.
Cave Cihan, Mr Erdoğan!

Considerably exaggerated

Does article 301 apply to Erdoğan?

Mozart's homage to Erdogan

The Death of Zhuangzi

Zhuangzi was dying, and his disciples wanted to bury him splendiferously. Spake Zhuangzi: "Heaven and earth are my coffin. Sun and moon are my jade rings, the stars my pearls and gems, and the whole creation escorts me. Thus, I shall have a splendid funeral. What else would you add?" Spake the disciples: "We are afraid, crows and kites might eat the master." Spake Zhuangzi: "Unburied I serve crows and kites as nutrition, buried worms and ants. To take from the one to give to the other: why being such biased?

[Humble attempt to translate "Der Tod des Dschuang Dsï", published in Dschuang Dsï - Südliches Blütenland, Eugen Diederichs Verlag, p. 294]

To ...

His name could be Shakespeare,
Petrarca or Shelley:
No poet could ever find
the right words to describe you.
Not even I.

:)