post random things

No more 43 from work.

Blåbärskaka. Found in IKEA. Where else?

Anti-klit shampoo.

It’s been two years today that I pitched my REAL tent just south of Worthy Farm, with a view of Pyramid Stage and the Glastonbury Tor as background. To this day, one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life. I loved the experience so much I wished it was a permanent venue, apart of course of the ever-so-present mud.

Gawd, I so wish I was there this year.
The line up is SO awesome. Maximo Park! Blur! NE*RD! Prodigy! Madness! The Specials! Spinal fucking Tap! Nick Cave and the Seeds! The list goes on and on and on.
I would have even wanted to see Tom Jones…
Ach, ach.

If redbandita can’t come to the Park, the Park has to come to redbandita. I just can’t wait for August.

Maybe the robots should have a look? Hehehe

One of my collegaues sent me this rather sad joke today:

_One day the great philosopher Socrates came upon an acquaintance. The acquaintance ran up to him excitedly and said, “Socrates, do you know what I just heard about one of your students?”
“Wait a moment,” Socrates replied. “Before you tell me I’d like you to pass a little test. It’s called the Triple Filter Test.”
“Triple filter?”
“That’s right,” Socrates continued. “Before you talk to me about my student let’s take a moment to filter what you’re going to say. The first filter is Truth. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to say to me is true?”
“No,” the man said, “actually I just heard about it and….”
“All right,” said Socrates. “So you don’t really know if it’s true or not.
“Now let’s try the second filter, the filter of Goodness. Is what you are about to tell me about my student something good?”
“No, on the contrary….”
“So,” Socrates continued, “you want to tell me something bad about him, even though you’re not certain it’s true?”
The man shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Socrates continued. “You may still pass the test though, because there is a third filter – the filter of Usefulness. Is what you want to tell me about my student going to be useful to me?”
“No, not really….”
“Well,” concluded Socrates, “if what you want to tell me is neither True nor Good nor even Useful, why tell it to me at all?”
The man was defeated and ashamed. This is the reason Socrates was a great philosopher and held in such high esteem.
It also explains why he never found out that Plato was banging his wife._

It inspired me to have a closer look at my own gossiping habits. Can I apply the Triple Filter Test?
This would be interesting. I mean, I’m not a gossip queen, but sometimes I need to vent my spleen about for eaxample people I work with, yet I don’t consider that gossip, as what I say is true.
So applying the filter shouldn’t be too hard, but maybe I should try and lay off the PerezHilton.com a little, first…

Reading Monotreme’s excellent poem Hail to thee, protector! – Ode to a Nipguard reminded me of this marvel from the universe of Star trek TNG. This poem is Data’s declaration of android affection to his cat, Spot. Enjoy.

Felis catus is your taxonomic nomenclature,

An endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature;

Your visual, olfactory, and auditory senses

Contribute to your hunting skills and natural defenses.

I find myself intrigued by your sub-vocal oscillations,

A singular development of cat communications

That obviates your basic hedonistic predilection

For a rhythmic stroking of your fur to demonstrate affection.

A tail is quite essential for your acrobatic talents,

You would not be so agile if you lacked its counterbalance.

And when not being utilized to aid in locomotion

It often serves to illustrate the state of your emotion.

Oh Spot, the complex levels of behavior you display

Connote a fairly well-developed cognitive array;

And though you are not sentient, Spot, and do not comprehend,

I nonetheless consider you a true and valued friend.

I again had a cheer from the future! Love those futuristic cheers! I wonder who will give it to me?

Here is a lovely poem about the little boy who found out the hard way that the ice on the lake would not carry him, yet.
you can find my translation below.

Güll Friedrich:
Will sehen, was ich weiß,
Vom Büblein auf dem Eis
(late version of 1827)

Gefroren hat es heuer
Noch gar kein festes Eis.
Das Büblein steht am Weiher
Und spricht zu sich ganz leis:
Ich will es einmal wagen,
Das Eis, es muß doch tragen. -
Wer weiß?

Das Büblein stapft und hacket
Mit seinem Stiefelein.
Das Eis auf einmal knacket,
Und krach! schon bricht’s hinein.
Das Büblein platscht und krabbelt,
Als wie ein Krebs und zappelt
Mit Arm und Bein.

O helft, ich muß versinken
In lauter Eis und Schnee!
O helft, ich muß ertrinken
Im tiefen, tiefen See!
Wär nicht ein Mann gekommen,
Der sich ein Herz genommen,
O weh!

Der packt es bei dem Schopfe
Und zieht es dann heraus.
Vom Fuße bis zum Kopfe
Wie eine Wassermaus.
Das Büblein hat getropfet,
Der Vater hats geklopfet
Zu Haus.

Translation:
Let’ see what I know,
of the little boy on the ice

It has frozen today
Still no hard ice.
The little boy stands at the mere
And says to himself very quietly:
I want to dare it once,
The ice it has to carry (me) –
Who knows?

The little boy trudges and hacks
With his little boot.
The ice suddenly creaks
And crash! he already breaks in.
The little boy splashes and crawls,
Like a krab he dithers
With arm and leg.

O help, I have to sink
In lots of ice and snow!
O help, I have to drown
In (a) deep, deep lake!
Had not a man come,
Who took heart,
Oh weh! (= cry of dispair, Weh = pain, sore)

He grabs him by his tuft
And pulls him out.
From feet to head
Like a water mouse (rat?)
The little boy was dripping,
The father was spanking him
At home.