Camelopardus flagrans' Journal
[Most Recent Entries]
[Calendar View]
[Friends]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Camelopardus flagrans' LiveJournal:
[ << Previous 20 ]
| Tuesday, February 11th, 2020 | | 3:28 pm |
| | Monday, May 21st, 2012 | | 4:16 pm |
е-буки
Amelia Gray -- Museum of the Weird [epub] | [mobi]Jonathan Gottschall -- The Storytelling Animal: How Stories Make Us Human [epub] | [mobi]David Levy -- Love and Sex with Robots: The Evolution of Human-Robot Relationships [epub] | [mobi]Leonard Mlodinow -- Subliminal: How Your Unconscious Mind Rules Your Behavior [epub] | [mobi]E. O. Wilson -- The Social Conquest of Earth [epub] | [mobi]PS иногда случаются глюки с заливкой файлов; если вы обнаружили битый файл (обычно заполненный нулями), сообщите, пожалуйста, в комментариях | | Thursday, May 17th, 2012 | | 12:44 pm |
нон-фикшн е-буки
Mario Beauregard -- Brain Wars: The Scientific Battle Over the Existence of the Mind and the Proof That Will Change the Way We Live Our Lives [epub] | [mobi]Louis J. Cozolino -- The Neuroscience of Psychotherapy [epub] | [mobi]Christof Koch -- Consciousness: Confessions of a Romantic Reductionist [epub] | [mobi]David J. Linden -- The Compass of Pleasure: How Our Brains Make Fatty Foods, Orgasm, Exercise, Marijuana, Generosity, Vodka, Learning, and Gambling Feel So Good [epub] | [mobi]Ogi Ogas, Sai Gaddam -- A Billion Wicked Thoughts: What the World's Largest Experiment Reveals about Human Desire [epub] | [mobi]Allan N. Schore -- The Science of the Art of Psychotherapy [epub] | [mobi]Daniel J. Siegel -- Pocket Guide to Interpersonal Neurobiology [epub] | [mobi]Lewis Wolpert -- You're Looking Very Well: The Surprising Nature of Getting Old [epub] | [mobi]PS иногда случаются глюки с заливкой файлов; если вы обнаружили битый файл (обычно заполненный нулями), сообщите, пожалуйста, в комментариях | | 12:01 pm |
| | Wednesday, May 9th, 2012 | | 12:31 am |
| | Friday, May 4th, 2012 | | 2:30 pm |
| | Thursday, April 5th, 2012 | | 11:40 pm |
The Professeur shuffled his papers until they seemed suitably disorganized.
“As you know, there have been theories since Newton that every material has its own unique qualities of light refraction, but beyond the visual analysis, there is no way to quantify that uniqueness.”
“Which means?” asked Henri.
“To our eye, different red things will appear red,” said Lucien.
“Exactly,” said the Professeur.
“Is it obvious for me to point out that it does not require a scientist to point out that that is obvious?” asked Henri.
“Exactly,” said the Professeur. -- Christopher Moore, Sacré Bleu | | Wednesday, April 4th, 2012 | | 3:48 pm |
| | Thursday, March 15th, 2012 | | 1:37 pm |
| | Saturday, March 3rd, 2012 | | 5:43 pm |
крутить два крана, перекрыв струю понежиться минуту или три в горячей жидкости; запястия целы и краны разноцветными глазами глядят в лицо как Боуи бесстыдно убрать с отверстия распаренную пятку почувствовать, как вновь приходит тяжесть как твёрдо снизу и как остывает металл, покрытый белою эмалью как высыхает кожа, волоски на голени; спине уже прохладно но вытиранье можно отложить и несколько минут ещё не жить | | 12:21 am |
... he feels in part of himself as a liberation ...
This morning, Mr Phillips has just woken from a seven out of ten dream in which he was trying to arrange to have sex with Miss Pettifer, his younger son Thomas's form teacher at St Francis Xavier's. She is in her early fifties and therefore around the same age as Mr Phillips. In real life, he hasn't been conscious of being even vaguely attracted to her -- but when he wakes after the dream, he realizes that isn't the whole story. The fact that she is, say, twenty pounds overweight, he feels in part of himself as a liberation, as if, in throwing off one set of worries about being sensible and watching your weight, other worries might be thrown off too, so that her half-double chin and wildly blossoming hips, all the more visible because her clothes are a third of a size too small, hold a promise: with me, you can do anything you want. -- John Lanchester, Mr Phillips | | Friday, December 16th, 2011 | | 2:30 pm |
| | Tuesday, December 6th, 2011 | | 6:44 pm |
е-буки
Elaine Sciolino -- La Seduction: How the French Play the Game of Life [epub] | [mobi] | | Thursday, December 1st, 2011 | | 1:29 pm |
любовь и голубь
He kept a photograph of a pigeon that had died some twenty years before. Sometimes he called her the white pigeon, other times the white dove. In certain languages, he said, they used the same word for both. She was his true love, he said, a white pigeon with gray on her wings ... later I would read that he had said he loved her as a man loves a woman. He never said that to me, but he did say other things. He said she filled his heart with happiness and that when he’d realized how sick she was, he’d stayed with her, waiting for her to die. When she died a light emanated from her and his eyes hurt from the brightness. He knew then that his work on Earth was ended. A pigeon might seem serene, he said, but that was a trick of the feathers. The feathers were soft but beneath them it was bloody. That was beauty, said Tesla: the raw veins, the gray-purple meat beneath the down. I should have died when she died, he went on, but death, I think it slipped by me. Some people made fun of him for saying he loved the pigeon like a woman, though I never thought it was funny. People love their pets, but the love is tinged with sadness. Because the love is for a pet, they are ashamed of this. They want the love to seem as small as a hobby so no one will have to feel sorry for them. Tesla was not ashamed. He was never ashamed. People did not understand that, and they called him perverted. Pia loved Tesla like he loved the pigeon. Since I knew Pia, sometimes I have thought: I would have liked to know that love. -- Lydia Millet, Tesla and Wife | | Tuesday, November 29th, 2011 | | 3:07 am |
| | Friday, November 18th, 2011 | | 12:23 pm |
ббблюз двух подушек (неоконч)
я ночью сплю на двух подушках одну пристроив на другой я ночью сплю на двух подушках, бэйби одну пристроив на другой на верхней угнездившись ушком, мамма и между них лежу рукой а у тебя одна подушка но мы устроимся вдвоём всего одна подушка душка, бэйби но мы устроимся вдвоём две головы четыре ушка, крошка и нежных звуков полон дом в библиотеке нет подушек и жестковаты все столы в библиотеке нет подушек, бэйби и жестковаты все столы но ночью хоть пали из пушек (в храме книги) и ручку оседлай метлы | | 1:13 am |
а Гибсон зато вот так про Дика и Пинчона
I was never much of a Dick fan. He wrote an awful lot of novels, and I don’t think his output was very even. I loved The Man in the High Castle, which was the first really beautifully realized alternate history I read, but by the time I was thinking about writing myself, he’d started publishing novels that were ostensibly autobiographical, and which, it seems to me, he probably didn’t think were fiction. Pynchon worked much better for me than Dick for epic paranoia, and he hasn’t yet written a book in which he represents himself as being in direct contact with God. I was never much of a Raymond Chandler fan, either. -- from William Gibson's interview for Paris Review | | 1:12 am |
| | 1:08 am |
все цитируют Гибсона, а там рядом интервью Дилэни же
Why do you think nobody’s ever made a film out of [Asimov's Foundation]? It would make Marxists — or, at any rate small-m marxists — of every bright thirteen-year-old in the country. Personally, I think that’s preferable to the demagoguery of Ayn Rand. * * * In my story, Crane cries, “Any dull seamy era can throw up an Atlantis.” Well, “any dull seamy era” is an anagram for Samuel Ray Delany — and, yes, the other thing I had in mind was “Vivian Darkbloom,” Quilty’s biographer in Lolita and an anagram for Vladimir Nabokov. * * * In the climactic chapter [of Bester's Tiger! Tiger!], the hero is in the basement of a burning cathedral — St. Patrick’s, in New York — that’s collapsing all around him, and the man experiences this through synesthesia, where he hears smells and sees sounds and tastes what things feel like. It’s Bester’s version of the end of Gaddis’s Recognitions. -- from Samuel R. Delany's interview for Paris Review | | Tuesday, November 15th, 2011 | | 2:00 pm |
|
[ << Previous 20 ]
|
