It just seems wrong. Why in the name of the Lord would you ever make a cover of My Favorite Thing? The short and simple answer? You would not ever do that. On top of it all I’ve been and I still am a haunted man, haunted by the music of the 68:s (it’s not a typo, not 60’s music, but the music of the 68:s); “Nous sommes les soixante-huits?!” – that would be my parents self-proclaimed credo!
A statement, something which there will never be any; contesting/argument or reasoning applied to, ever. An absolute truth if you will.
For the record and the very last time; if you listen to the Stones or Hendrix you do not under any circumstance listen to the Beatles. Ever. Why? Because that is the definition of a contradiction… and it goes on and on. Pink Floyd will automatically cancel other time specific groups/songs etc. In as many words: I’m going to be haunted for an eternity by one specific year and month. Mai soixante-huit (May 68) and I wasn’t even born at that time.
There’s trouble ahead on a global scale.
– So, which one are You? Are you my friend or foe?
The difference is fundamental.
Why? Because, the “great” War is coming, for the third time, yes again… and we will have to fight yet another time.
“Four Senegalese Soldiers” (not dated.) # Paul Castelnau / Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication / The First World War
Falling down. Hard, like in Röde Orm (incidentally a birthday gift from my grandmother a long time ago – bless her soul!). That would be the hammer of Tor (no, no “h” and yes, the reason why “Thursday” is called Thursday? It is the day of Tor, the day of the hammer, thunders’ day.
Depending on context; like the other symbol representing the sun that is at least five thousand years old. Expo
“Symbols”? They will always be dependent of: perspective/context/history.
Enligt asatron ägde åskguden Tor en hammare som kallades Mjölner, som betyder ”krossaren” According to Asatron, the thunder god Tor owned a hammer called Mjölner, which means “the crusher”.
I’m just saying…
That the breaks were dead and gone. They were unhappy times.
I looked hard and everywhere and of course I did find them (with help, if no one is playing it will become impossible), silly me doubting something eternal!
I did get help recovering them/me. I actually thought they were lost. But, I will never doubt again! Ever.
– What’s the time? Is it 09:45 or 17:45?
– Well, it can’t be 17:45 because then it would be completely dark?
This is the (almost exact) location where I was born and have lived my entire life… Locus Desperatus as it where 2000 years ago, “- Being funny are we?”. The reference is: Latin, Latin.
Originally (to me) it has to do with an impossible text passage. If I’m not mistaken it is none other than the unsurpassed: Cicero quote, I’m not prepared to take poison regarding this particular quote though.
The reference is that of of an impossible place/location in an interpreted text. I’m applying to other realms.
The solitary was most likely dropped a dash hurrying in some direction – but, what about the pairs?
It always makes me wonder. What happened the instant before someone decided “- I’m not wearing these shoes no more this day/night!”. Did a spare pair exist somewhere or did nature have its causal way?
They do not seem to have been “kicked-off”; on the contrary, they’re were (must have been) orderly removed and quite purposefully placed. What about the remaining journey?
Was it bear-feet or in socks: on bike, by car, being carried or dragged, on stretcher, the coroner, on electric scooter or maybe simply Au natural?
What happened after they were left behind? I always wonder…