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The future of blogs is doomed, say the prophets from Wired. The future was in micro logging. Ughhh.
Do you really understand what those tweet entries mean? I have severe difficulties to get the point of letting know people what are you doing at the moment. Don’t even want to know that. If I did, I would call to ask. You need to know the intimate world of the tweeting person, in order to understand what the tweet means.
If you are not part of the intimate circle of friends, this tweet thing is creating a huge white noise cloud, which is hiding the actually valuable thought in lots of bullshit. Even if there is a good idea somewhere hidden in the bulk of completely unnecessary bits of pet/weather/carpet/PMS information, don’t believe it is actually possible to develop those ideas in 140 symbols. Personally, I think it is much more difficult to structure your thoughts in limited space. Long texts are easy – even if you are not a titan of written speech, you have pretty good chances to accidentally put a sentence or two together, that someone else is going to anchor with. With 140 symbols, you need to be precise, you need to master your ability to filter the important points, to stream your message. Start with some haiku. Practice it a bit, than add Tweeter to your blog. Otherwise, “Time for double espresso” doesn’t mean anything to me. It is just pollution, in all meanings of the word.
I am trying not to be just an oldschool hater in this case. My point is that microblogging is not for everyone. There are people, who are really able to formulate diamonds and pearls in 140 symbols. Taken out of any context, those tweets are meaningful. The problem is, those people are so little, that you can count them almost statistical mistake. Everything else is just an apogee of the superficial imitation of thinking and demonstration of thoughts’ mediocrity.
Fortunately, I am not alone on this side of the barrier: I am watching TV with my cat
By Sabrina Abbot, via McSweeny
– – – –
And they barely tolerated each other.
And they stayed together because of the kids.
And their contempt for one another occasionally spilled over at family gatherings, prompting moments of uncomfortable silence.
And they expressed their unhappiness through passive-aggressive toilet-seat positioning.
– – – –
My Saturday’s dzen.
Today, one of the greatest Bulgarian composers was born… in Zurich. Professor Pancho Vladigerov has his 110 anniversary on this very same day. I will not talk about this extraordinary talent in memoriam, because I believe, he is still living in his beautiful music.
Maestro Vladigerov is a milestone in the history of Bulgarian classical music, not only with his compositions, but also with his pedagogy and his dedication in building the culture of Bulgarian music. Even the famous piano player Alexis Weissenberg made his first acquaintance with the black and white keyboard under Maestro’s guidance. I will just put here the words about Vladigerov of another great Bulgarian (and one of my favourite national poets) Nikolay Liliev:
“Pancho Vladigerov is one of the most highly esteemed, lively and emotional representatives of Bulgarian musical culture. His reputation of a composer and performer has long since passed the boundaries of his own country. In the last thirty years, every symphony orchestra or prominent conductor has been tempted to add Pancho Vladigerov’s musical compositions to his repertoire.
Always inspired, always confident of what he writes, keeping both his feet on the ground – the land he loves and passionately praises in song, Vladigerov translates everything he touches into music. Born a musician, in his yearly childhood, he was foreordained to be a musician. He constantly creates new, surprising pieces of music, marvellous variations of themes and colours, which are among the greatest assets of our music. Every musical genre is covered by Pancho Vladigerov, whose capacity for work, combined with an incredible talent, is found only in great men.
Being our national pride and glory, his never fading works will always have the charm and freshness of a great and fevered imagination.”
/An excerpt from Liliev’s speech at the celebration of composer’s 50th anniversary, Sofia, 1949./
Among his works is the Vardar Rhapsody — an amazing piece, which you really should listen to – it will sound in your head long after the music is gone. One of the interesting things about Vardar Rhapsody is that it was initially composed for piano. Later, it has been orchestrated and nowadays it is probably No 1 example of Bulgarian symphonic music. If someone is interested to have the piano scores – please leave a comment here.
Every year, on the 1-st of March Bulgarians are giving to each other a special amulet – Martenitza.
In a form of bracelet, ribbon, brooch – Martenitza is a symbol of the coming spring, and a way to wish to the others health and joy through the year. On the first of March, we are all white&red up to the ears!
We wear our Martenitzi until we see a stork, or when you see the first blossoming fruit -giving tree (but not a walnut). This is a must, because the Martenitza is also s symbol of fertility in the house and in the garden.
As a matter of fact, last year was the first year in my life, when I took off my Martenitza after actually seeing a stork. For my surprise, that happened in Germany. So now, our family has a Martenitza dedicated beautiful quince tree in the garden of my parents in law. Very soon, this tree will be all red and white.
A small piece of Bulgaria in the heart of Hamburg.
Looking around, I notice only naked brunches. Except for the rosemary bush in front of the window, which is constantly loosing leafs due to culinary reasons, the other plants around are the type of ever-green-cemetery-like bushes. I realise, I really miss the blossoming trees already.
So, looking here and there, I found the 10 Most magnificent trees in the world . The trees are indeed beautiful, but the stories and the history around them are the magnificent one.
For example, the one about the Tree of Ténéré or L’Abre du Ténéré was the world’s most isolated tree – the solitary acacia, which grew in the Sahara desert in Niger, Africa, was the only tree within more than 250 miles (400 km) around. Apparently, being the only tree in that part of the wide-open desert wasn’t enough to stop a drunk Libyan truck driver from driving his truck into it, knocking it down and killing it.
Some issues are very uncomfortable to talk about, and extremely difficult to make a movie out of. There is always a risk of being either too mentoring in one or the other direction, or too disgusting in the way that sensitive topic is represented.
I remembered “Kissed” while reading the Twilight saga (I will say something about that as soon as I finish the whole latino drama). Directed by the the canadian Lynne Stopkewich, a woman who have the guts to touch society’s nerve knots and open wounds, here she beautifully deals with a rather unpleasant matter – necrophilia.
The story is about a girl, who discovers her morbid fascination for death. She sees and feels more in dead bodies, than anyone else can.
I wonder what is making us shiver when touching a corpse, even a one of a beloved creature – is it the cold, the stiffness, or just the reminder it gives to us that one day we are going to be equally dead?
Sandra Larson is played by the indecently talented Molly Parker, who started ballet at the age of 3 and continued for 13 years, to substitute it with theatre acting. No wonder grace and beauty radiates from every move she makes on the stage.
Molly can be seen also in other dark side movies, showing perspectives in sexual morals the society usually doesn’t like to talk about. “The Center of the World” and “Suspicious River“.
If you think you really did the best for your bonsai tiger – think again. Those folks from Asahi Kasei introduced completely new lifestyle for those divine creatures.
“We are all gonna die – 100 meters of existence” is made by the photographer Simon Hoegsberg and I am keeping it open already three days, watching the faces and discovering new details every time.
The shots was taken during the summer of 2007 in one of my ultimate cities, at the place, I am staying near by every time I go there.
If you are careful enough, you will easily see the Steven King’s fan, the chihuahua in the bag and the lady with the massive heights, for which I still cannot decide whether they are plastic or not.
A wonderful pictures collection of the most beautiful kukeri!
Mummers day (Kukerovden) is another tradition, Bulgarians inherited from the ancient Thracia. Mummers fests are similar to the Western Europe’s carnivals. In the past they used to go to dance at night, to chase bad spirits away from the villages and fields. That’s why, people would welcome mummers in their homes with generous gifts – mummers bring health, fertility and prosperity to the house and the hosts. Usually, the celebrations are held around the day of Saint Theodore, which is known as Horses Easter.
I hate social networks. Social networks are like a nest of bored old ladies. They are welcoming you in, only to suck your energy and leave the feeling of their dead-mackerel-cold-fingers on your face. Because, you are food. You are just another gossip provider.
Nowadays, people are really expecting you to track their life development via Facebook. Whether you are planning a liposuction or sex change, or you are single or in desperate need of a partner – it is ALL there.
I wonder if there is also a “Deceased” status available, for those of you, who suddenly went to a better place. It can be manually scheduled to turn on if you are not logging into your account for a certain period. I’ve heard people saying “If I don’t respond in Facebook, I should be dead than” — this is a serious statement, and service developers should consider it carefully.
And to make the thing even more exciting, the service provider could offer the functionality “Voices from beyond” simply a pre-recorded/prepared messages, which would be released in public only in case of that specific change of your status. Those messages, could be something that would warm the souls of your Facebook fellows, something in lines of “I have always suspected there was a tradition of incest in your family” or so. That way, the late person will continue to move (s)his dedicated group at last for a couple of weeks, ensuring the profile outlives the physical person.
I still receive invitations to join yet another newly established International Club of Idiots, but I managed to resist somehow. Actually, I am not entirely correct here – I do have accounts in LinkedIn and in Dopplr – the first one I got under the explicit influence of my boss, and the second one (which by the way sux as a service, I am planning to close it) was another story.
And than – for my big surprise, I see something, which even an eminent sociopath like me considers joining – GoodReads. Despite of my natural disgust toward most of mass communication and networking opportunities, this one sounds very appealing – maybe, because it’s facilitating your faster and better choice of a long, solitaire and offline activity.
The good news about GoodReads came via NervousShark
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