Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant tide comes billowing across the sand
And everything is green the submarine
G. Tingeysays
Where are you, now?
And where in the next few days?
Is this a business and/or a pleasure trip?
The current wet weather is “making up” for an exceptionally dry (& hot, for us) Summer.
Forecast says Thursday will be fine.
As for cosmic, as I said before, try the Nat. Hist. Mus. in Kensington.
For a view not in the guidebooks, try just to the East (downstream side) of Tower Bridge from the South bank.
From there you see the 900-year-old fortress through the stone-and-steel of the 19th Century Gotic bridge, with the WWII cruiser HMS Belfast on the river, and behind it, rising, the spires and towers of a 21st Century city.
You couldn’t make it up.
If out-of-London, where are you likely to go?
Everyone talks about Stonehenge, but Avebury is really wierd, and should be good in the Autumn.
Oxford? Cambridge? Downe?
Edinburgh?
York or Durham?
Then there are the words, for … “The Isle is full of voices”…
From far, from eve and morning,
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither; here am I.
Now – for a breath I taryy
Nor yet disperse apart –
Take my hand, quick, and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
Speak now, and I will answer,
How shall I help you, say:
Ere to the wind’s twelve quarters
I take my endless way.
I dreamt we were standing
By the banks of the Thames
Where the cold grey waters ripple
In the misty morning light
Held a match to your cigarette
Watched the smoke curl in the mist
Your eyes, blue as the ocean between us
Smiling at me
I awoke alone and lonely
In a faraway place
The sun fell cold upon my face
The cracks in the ceiling spelt hell
Turned to the wall
Pulled the sheets around my head
Tried to sleep, and dream my way
Back to you again
Count the days
Slowly passing by
Step on a plane
And fly away
I’ll see you then
As the dawnbirds sing
On a cold and misty morning
By the Albert Bridge
“Trip to heave and ho, up down, to and fro’
you have no word
trip, trip to a dream dragon
hide your wings in a ghost tower
sails cackling at every plate we break
cracked by scattered needles
the little minute gong
coughs and clears his throat
madam you see before you stand
hey ho, never be still
the old original favorite grand
grasshoppers green Herbarian band
and the tune they play is “In Us Confide”
so trip to heave and ho, up down, to and fro’
you have no word Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!
Isn’t it good to be lost in the wood
isn’t it bad so quiet there, in the wood
meant even less to me than I thought
with a honey plough of yellow prickly seeds
clover honey pots and mystic shining feed…
well, the madcap laughed at the man on the border
hey ho, huff the Talbot
“Cheat” he cried shouting kangaroo
it’s true in their tree they cried Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!
The madcap laughed at the man on the border
hey ho, huff the Talbot
the winds they blew and the leaves did wag
they’ll never put me in their bag
the seas will reach and always seep
so high you go, so low you creep
the wind it blows in tropical heat
the drones they throng on mossy seats
the squeaking door will always squeak
two up, two down we’ll never meet
so merrily trip forgo my side Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!”
So, rumour has it that now that YouTube is a Google⢠product, it will be difficult to obtain such works of entertainment as the attached one here … any thoughts?
The Lancet has a new study that shows that the invasion of Iraq has caused 655,000 excess deaths.
Zohn Smithsays
Over at UD, Wm(a)D is gushing over Dawkins’ website, and here’s what he writes:
“Check out this great looking website (if only the content matched in quality): http://richarddawkins.net.
Anybody who is willing and able to upgrade the look, feel, and functionality of this site (Uncommon Descent) to match that of the Dawkins site will receive three of my books autographed. What a deal. Think it over.”
If I trash the look of Uncommon Descent, can I get away with it if I send Dembski three of his books with forged autographs?
bPersays
Prof. Myers didn’t have to go all the way to England to find people who’d pronounce his initials “PeeZed”. Up here in Canada (not far from Morris after all), the natural inclination would be to pronounce it that way too. I have to constantly remind myself that when I read people call him “PZ”, it rhymes with “easy”.
And yes, I know that ZZ Top isn’t “Zed Zed Top”. 8)
Georgesays
FYI, there’s a thread on onegoodmove where they ask people to rank their belief/non-belief in God on a 1-to-7 scale.
The desert is a place where all certainty is uncertainty, where reality is a mirage, where a mirage becomes reality, where the wind tests all that dares to challenge it, and the challengers that survive are never the same, erosion bares all with softness the first to go, hardness is the survivor, adaptability coming in a strong second. Once I came upon a biologist fingering a yucca in a weird sort of way, I offered my canteen for I already knew his plight, laboratory softness was quickly giving way to a certain reality, his mind had already retreated from the inevitable, substituting dreams and fantasies for the certainty to come. Suddenly wild-eyed, he babbled as I led him away, talk of lizards and legumes and unleaven bread, and it took three days before he returned to world of, “Thank you for saving my life.”
sinned34says
“He had alot to say
He had alot of nothing to say
We’ll miss him
So long
We wish you well
You told us how you weren’t afraid to die
Well so long
Don’t cry
Or feel too down
Not all martyrs see divinity
But at least you tried.
Standing above the crowd
he had a voice that was strong and loud
We’ll miss him
Ranting and pointing his finger
at everything but his heart
We’ll miss him
We’re gonna miss him
No way to recall
what it was that you had said to me
like I care at al
But he was so loud
You sure could yell
You took a stand on every little thing
and so loud
You could be the one who saves me from my own existence
Standing above the crowd
he had a voice that was strong and loud
and I swallowed his facade ’cause I’m so eager to identify
with someone above the ground
someone who seemed to feel the same
someone prepared to lead the way
with someone who would die for me
Will you?
Will you now?
Would you die for me?
Don’t you fuckin’ lie
Don’t you step out of line!
Don’t you fucking lie!
You’ve claimed all this time
that you would die for me
Why then are you so surprised
when hear your own eulogy?
He had alot to say
He had alot of nothing to say
Come down
Get off your fucking cross
We need the fucking space
to nail the next fool martyr
To ascend you must die
You must be crucified
for your sins and your lies
Goodbye!”
Findings Three misattributed clusters were excluded from the final analysis; data from 1849 households that contained
12 801 individuals in 47 clusters was gathered. 1474 births and 629 deaths were reported during the observation
period. Pre-invasion mortality rates were 5.5 per 1000 people per year (95% CI 4.3-7.1), compared with 13.3 per
1000 people per year (10.9-16.1) in the 40 months post-invasion. We estimate that as of July, 2006, there have been
654 965 (392 979-942 636) excess Iraqi deaths as a consequence of the war, which corresponds to 2.5% of the
population in the study area. Of post-invasion deaths, 601 027 (426 369-793 663) were due to violence, the most
common cause being gunfire.
With respect to other studies, they have this to say:
Our estimate of excess deaths is far higher than those
reported in Iraq through passive surveillance measures.1,5
This discrepancy is not unexpected. Data from passive
surveillance are rarely complete, even in stable circum-
stances, and are even less complete during conflict, when
access is restricted and fatal events could be intentionally
hidden. Aside from Bosnia,21 we can find no conflict
situation where passive surveillance recorded more than
20% of the deaths measured by population-based
methods. In several outbreaks, disease and death recorded
by facility-based methods underestimated events by a
actor of ten or more when compared with population-
based estimates.11,22-25 Between 1960 and 1990, newspaper
accounts of political deaths in Guatemala correctly
reported over 50% of deaths in years of low violence but
ess than 5% in years of highest violence.26
That was probably recorded in about 1968. Nobody had live mixing boxes in those days, and the sound balance was always done on a wing and a prayer. Bands were just beginning to work with biggish (200+ watt) instrumental amps, and the PA systems for vocal mikes were often just whatever they found at the venues, so it’s a miracle you ever heard the words at all.
Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves in labyrinths of coral caves
The echo of a distant tide comes billowing across the sand
And everything is green the submarine
Where are you, now?
And where in the next few days?
Is this a business and/or a pleasure trip?
The current wet weather is “making up” for an exceptionally dry (& hot, for us) Summer.
Forecast says Thursday will be fine.
As for cosmic, as I said before, try the Nat. Hist. Mus. in Kensington.
For a view not in the guidebooks, try just to the East (downstream side) of Tower Bridge from the South bank.
From there you see the 900-year-old fortress through the stone-and-steel of the 19th Century Gotic bridge, with the WWII cruiser HMS Belfast on the river, and behind it, rising, the spires and towers of a 21st Century city.
You couldn’t make it up.
If out-of-London, where are you likely to go?
Everyone talks about Stonehenge, but Avebury is really wierd, and should be good in the Autumn.
Oxford? Cambridge? Downe?
Edinburgh?
York or Durham?
Then there are the words, for … “The Isle is full of voices”…
From far, from eve and morning,
And yon twelve-winded sky,
The stuff of life to knit me
Blew hither; here am I.
Now – for a breath I taryy
Nor yet disperse apart –
Take my hand, quick, and tell me,
What have you in your heart.
Speak now, and I will answer,
How shall I help you, say:
Ere to the wind’s twelve quarters
I take my endless way.
(A. E. H. – Shropshire Lad, XXXII )
The Pogues:
I dreamt we were standing
By the banks of the Thames
Where the cold grey waters ripple
In the misty morning light
Held a match to your cigarette
Watched the smoke curl in the mist
Your eyes, blue as the ocean between us
Smiling at me
I awoke alone and lonely
In a faraway place
The sun fell cold upon my face
The cracks in the ceiling spelt hell
Turned to the wall
Pulled the sheets around my head
Tried to sleep, and dream my way
Back to you again
Count the days
Slowly passing by
Step on a plane
And fly away
I’ll see you then
As the dawnbirds sing
On a cold and misty morning
By the Albert Bridge
“Trip to heave and ho, up down, to and fro’
you have no word
trip, trip to a dream dragon
hide your wings in a ghost tower
sails cackling at every plate we break
cracked by scattered needles
the little minute gong
coughs and clears his throat
madam you see before you stand
hey ho, never be still
the old original favorite grand
grasshoppers green Herbarian band
and the tune they play is “In Us Confide”
so trip to heave and ho, up down, to and fro’
you have no word
Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!
Isn’t it good to be lost in the wood
isn’t it bad so quiet there, in the wood
meant even less to me than I thought
with a honey plough of yellow prickly seeds
clover honey pots and mystic shining feed…
well, the madcap laughed at the man on the border
hey ho, huff the Talbot
“Cheat” he cried shouting kangaroo
it’s true in their tree they cried
Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!
The madcap laughed at the man on the border
hey ho, huff the Talbot
the winds they blew and the leaves did wag
they’ll never put me in their bag
the seas will reach and always seep
so high you go, so low you creep
the wind it blows in tropical heat
the drones they throng on mossy seats
the squeaking door will always squeak
two up, two down we’ll never meet
so merrily trip forgo my side
Please leave us here
close our eyes to the octopus ride!”
Syd Barrett’s “Octopus” aka “Clowns & Jugglers”
Re: the video– I love Spinal Tap’s early work!
Careful with that axe, Eugene.
Judge accused of atheism in Texas. Might as well call him gay, or a Nazi. Links.
This week is Earth Science Week, which I’m celebrating on my blog. Check it out!
Bush went to a discussion regarding school violence, whereat was read a shitty poem about needing “god” in schools, with which Bush agreed.
This led me to write an open letter to Christians on the topics of prayer in school, “intelligent design” and politics.
However, I don’t expect it to have much effect, since the literacy — and education — of most Christians begins at Genesis and ends at Revelation.
Cosmic: We are the universe thinking about itself, and the atoms we’re using are billions of years old.
So that’s what’s wrong with me! I was made from used atoms in the first place! How many of these durn things have outlasted there warranties?
So, according to drudgereport, the pope is bringing back the latin mass. Well I think that’s pretty nifty.
THIS will really make baby PZ cry.
I love early Pink Floyd, but the microphones were way too quiet in that clip. You could hardly hear the lyrics.
I think PZed should be PZ’s hip-hop name.
So, rumour has it that now that YouTube is a Google⢠product, it will be difficult to obtain such works of entertainment as the attached one here … any thoughts?
Keith, with Googles deep pockets you can be sure YouTube will not remain a playground for copyright and other IPR infringement.
Ah, if only Syd could have kept it glued together a bit better. Visionary madness always makes this boy smile. And cold beer.
The Lancet has a new study that shows that the invasion of Iraq has caused 655,000 excess deaths.
Over at UD, Wm(a)D is gushing over Dawkins’ website, and here’s what he writes:
“Check out this great looking website (if only the content matched in quality): http://richarddawkins.net.
Anybody who is willing and able to upgrade the look, feel, and functionality of this site (Uncommon Descent) to match that of the Dawkins site will receive three of my books autographed. What a deal. Think it over.”
If I trash the look of Uncommon Descent, can I get away with it if I send Dembski three of his books with forged autographs?
Prof. Myers didn’t have to go all the way to England to find people who’d pronounce his initials “PeeZed”. Up here in Canada (not far from Morris after all), the natural inclination would be to pronounce it that way too. I have to constantly remind myself that when I read people call him “PZ”, it rhymes with “easy”.
And yes, I know that ZZ Top isn’t “Zed Zed Top”. 8)
FYI, there’s a thread on onegoodmove where they ask people to rank their belief/non-belief in God on a 1-to-7 scale.
The desert is a place where all certainty is uncertainty, where reality is a mirage, where a mirage becomes reality, where the wind tests all that dares to challenge it, and the challengers that survive are never the same, erosion bares all with softness the first to go, hardness is the survivor, adaptability coming in a strong second. Once I came upon a biologist fingering a yucca in a weird sort of way, I offered my canteen for I already knew his plight, laboratory softness was quickly giving way to a certain reality, his mind had already retreated from the inevitable, substituting dreams and fantasies for the certainty to come. Suddenly wild-eyed, he babbled as I led him away, talk of lizards and legumes and unleaven bread, and it took three days before he returned to world of, “Thank you for saving my life.”
“He had alot to say
He had alot of nothing to say
We’ll miss him
So long
We wish you well
You told us how you weren’t afraid to die
Well so long
Don’t cry
Or feel too down
Not all martyrs see divinity
But at least you tried.
Standing above the crowd
he had a voice that was strong and loud
We’ll miss him
Ranting and pointing his finger
at everything but his heart
We’ll miss him
We’re gonna miss him
No way to recall
what it was that you had said to me
like I care at al
But he was so loud
You sure could yell
You took a stand on every little thing
and so loud
You could be the one who saves me from my own existence
Standing above the crowd
he had a voice that was strong and loud
and I swallowed his facade ’cause I’m so eager to identify
with someone above the ground
someone who seemed to feel the same
someone prepared to lead the way
with someone who would die for me
Will you?
Will you now?
Would you die for me?
Don’t you fuckin’ lie
Don’t you step out of line!
Don’t you fucking lie!
You’ve claimed all this time
that you would die for me
Why then are you so surprised
when hear your own eulogy?
He had alot to say
He had alot of nothing to say
Come down
Get off your fucking cross
We need the fucking space
to nail the next fool martyr
To ascend you must die
You must be crucified
for your sins and your lies
Goodbye!”
Eulogy
Tool – Aenima
Deaths due to Iraq invasion now estimated at ~ 650,000.
New study by Burnham et. al. of Johns Hopkins school of public and Al Mustansiriya University published in Lancet
With respect to other studies, they have this to say:
I’m way ahead of you, llewelly.
Tara upthread,
That was probably recorded in about 1968. Nobody had live mixing boxes in those days, and the sound balance was always done on a wing and a prayer. Bands were just beginning to work with biggish (200+ watt) instrumental amps, and the PA systems for vocal mikes were often just whatever they found at the venues, so it’s a miracle you ever heard the words at all.
I`m way ahead of you , Alon Levy. Cheers!, :P .