A Hero of Our Time

Just recently read the book "A Hero of Our Time" by Mikhail Lermontov. It was a great book, here's an excerpt from the end of the book that I found interesting.

“Observe my dear doctor,” said I, “that without fools, the world would be a very dull place… consider: here we are, two intelligent people; we know beforehand that one can argue endlessly, about anything, and therefore we do not argue; we know almost all the secret thoughts of each other; one word is a whole story for us; we see the kernel of our every emotion through a triple shell. Sad things seem to us funny, funny things seem to us melancholy, and generally we are, to tell the truth, rather indifferent to everything except our own selves. Thus, between us there can be no exchange of feelings and thoughts: we know everything about each other that we wish to know, and we do not wish to know anything more. There remains only one solution: telling the news. So tell me some piece of news.”

N'es pas?

the smiling mortician.

"The world is a beautiful place
To be born into
If you don’t mind happiness
Not always being
So very much fun
If you don’t mind a touch of hell
Now and then
Just when everything is fine
Because even in heaven
They don’t sing
All the time.

The world is a beautiful place
To be born into
If you don’t mind some people dying
All the time
Or maybe only starving
Some of the time
Which isn’t half so bad
If it isn’t you.

Oh the world is a beautiful place
To be born into
If you don’t much mind
A few dead minds
In the higher places
Or a bomb or two
Now and then
In your upturned faces
Or such other improprieties
As our name brand society
Is prey to
With its men if distinction
And its men of extinction
And its priests and other patrolmen
And its various segregations
And congressional investigations
And other constipations
That our fool flesh
Is heir to.

Yes the world is the best place of all
For a lot of such things as
Making the fun scene
And making the love scene
And making the sad scene
And singing low songs and having inspirations
And walking around
Looking at everything
And smelling flowers
And goosing statues
And even thinking
And kissing people and
Making babies and wearing pants
And waving hats and
And going swimming in rivers
On picnics
In the middle of the summer
And just generally
‘living it up’

But then right in the middle of it
Comes the smiling

-Poem 11. From 'Pictures of The Gone World.'
How I love Lawrence Ferlinghetti...


b l o o d l i n e

I have a deep appreciation for old photographs. These are some photos of my Grandma and Grandpa Jac on their wedding night, and the one of the children is my Grandpa and his siblings - my great aunts. Mmm Ancestry!