Division of Cowper

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✓

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The Yarra Valley, Victoria

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10th-century geographer Ibrahim ibn Yaqub placed the people of "Saqalib" in the mountainous regions of Central Balkans, west of the Bulgarians and east from the "other Slavs" (Croats), thus in the Serb lands. The Saqalib had the reputation of being "the most courageous and violent".

On Thursday, April the 5th, 1750, I went to see a most deplorable object of a child, born the night before of one Mary Evans in 'Chas'town. It was surprising to all who beheld it, and I scarcely know how to describe it. The skin was dry and hard and seemed to be cracked in many places, somewhat resembling the scales of a fish. The mouth was large and round and open. It had no external nose, but two holes where the nose should have been. The eyes appeared to be lumps of coagulated blood, turned out, about the bigness of a plum, ghastly to behold. It had no external ears, but holes where the ears should be. The hands and feet appeared to be swollen, were cramped up and felt quite hard. The back part of the head was much open. It made a strange kind of noise, very low, which I cannot describe. It lived about forty-eight hours and was alive when I saw it.

I scarcely know how to describe it

he seemed to do a decent job nonetheless

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A small sea stack on Handa, where
the Scots once buried their dead to
prevent their graves from being
desecrated by wolves

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A major German publisher was persuaded to buy the translation rights to a history of Nazi Germany I wrote for a broad readership in Britain and the USA, but took fright when he saw the fi rst draft . ‘You must add a thirty-page theoretical and methodological introduction’, he told me, ‘otherwise our readers will not take it seriously.’ Loath to introduce a diff erence between the English and German editions, I duly wrote such an introduction for both, only to see it dismissed by English reviewers as ‘pompous’, ‘pretentious’ and ‘unnecessary’. In Germany, the book did not sell well.

‘He had’, wrote his son, ‘a passion for battlefields,
especially those of Napoleon, and would speak of them in the
same tones in which other connoisseurs might have spoken
of a vintage claret.’ [Pares] had seen all the others, and none now
remained to visit but the Russian. Once in Russia, however, he
fell under the spell of the Russian peasantry, who seemed to
him so much more honest and open than what his son called
‘the depressed yokels of Surrey and Cambridgeshire.'

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It is a vanity project, so is evidently obliged to be ostentatious. Its connection to Paris, which is mostly characterised by architectural reticence and courteous homogeneity, is tenuous. It might be in any city where a member of the Croesus community could get away with it and invite the titans Anna Wintour and Karl Lagerfeld to the opening. No one has even bothered to attach to it the routinely mendacious claim that this fabulously spendthrift toy will incite that most elusive of elixirs, ‘regeneration’. It won’t. A transsexual hooker working the avenues of the Bois de Boulogne will still have to blow 140 johns per week for 500 years to earn the €130 million that this clumsy boast cost. It is rash to judge an entire country by the comings, goings and hothouse gossip of le microcosme, by tax dodgers and rich men’s follies, by ze people (slebs) such as the rancorous former First Bimbo and, on the other hand, across the ring road, the tooled-up rabble battalions of Seine-St-Denis.

This is what Mujkanovic witnessed as he crouched behind a glass door and peeped through his hands. 'I saw someone held down by the arms . . . 'G' had to bow down in his crotch and it was ordered that he must bite off his genitals. When I looked a second time, there was screaming. 'G' got up, with his mouth full of I don't know what and covered with blood and oil.

'A little time passed. One of the soldiers brought the person (who had been castrated) a dove. He was lying on the concrete and he was given this dove or pigeon - it was still alive and it was given to this person to eat.'

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the stylists should reach them sooner, really

no amount of couturiers and cosmeticians can turn a pupa into an imago before its time

stop stop you're giving me flashbacks

This is how one pictures the angel of history. His face is turned toward the past. Where we perceive a chain of events, he sees one single catastrophe that keeps piling ruin upon ruin and hurls it in front of his feet. The angel would like to stay, awaken the dead, and make whole what has been smashed. But a jet strikes out from Paradise; it has got caught in his wings with such violence that the angel can no longer close them. The jet irresistibly propels him into the future to which his back is turned, while the pile of debris before him grows skyward. This jet is what we call progress.

have become rly obsessed with mato jelic's youtube channel recently btw, something about that barely-australicised croatian accent

whoa that's walter benjamin right

here is a beautiful example of mato's style that i just watched, along with a really excellent game from two proper soviet legends

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKmuv3qow_A

just discovered this excellent quote regarding nedzhmetdinov, though

"Nezhmetdinov, ... if he had the attack, could kill anybody, including Tal. But my score against him was something like 8½–½ because I did not give him any possibility for an active game. In such cases he would immediately start to spoil his position because he was looking for complications."

probably need to watch some classic yuri averbakh catenaccio

Polugaevsky is quoted as saying, "I must have beaten Rashid a dozen times. But that one loss was so good I would have traded them all to be on the other side of the board."

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is that barenboim?

:)

http://www.theage.com.au/business/banking-and-finance/nabs-former-star-graeme-cowpers-demise-now-complete-20161206-gt4va5.html