@темы: Видосы, Фанатипичненько

Почему пиздец — это хуже, чем хуево, а охуенно — это лучше, чем пиздато Конкретное погружение в родственную среду прямо на рабочем столе. Сегодня, кстати, видела видео, где олень нападал на бизона. Точнее, алень. Хотя, даже можно сказать, — баран.

@темы: Собственничество, Эхо лесов

Какая идея была у соционики. Какое — не побоюсь громкого слова — предназначение ей приписывалось. Благодаря ей могла получиться совместная максимально продуктивная кооперация социуума, каждый индивид которого чувствовал бы себя нужным и полезным, каждый бы был правильно закреплённым винтиком в хорошо смазанном механизме. Но утопия же у нас невозможна, так? Это было бы слишком. Без волшебного действа энтропии нам никак.
Поэтому соционика превратилась в нечто типа весёленького гороскопа, знатоков работы которого дофига и больше, и они возомнили себя опытными типировщиками и типируют всех направо и налево, и из-за этого получается ещё больше неправильно оттипированных.


Внезапно японский. Внезапно понравилось. Внезапно больше английской версии. Наверное, японка просто поет экспрессивнее, на мой взгляд.

@темы: Соционика, Звенит

De padre canela nació un niño
Blanco como el lomo de un armiño
Con los ojos grises
En vez de aceituna
Niño albino de luna

Y en las noches que haya luna llena
Será porque el niño esté de buenas
Y si el niño llora
Menguará la luna
Para hacerle una cuna


link

@темы: На просторах, Звенит, Эхо лесов

One day, in the year of the fox

Came a time remembered well,

When the strong young man of the rising sun

Heard the tolling of the great black bell.

14 years«No ring or ripple broke the glassy water, no sign of a breeze to come. I had just decided that I might as well go, when I heard something coming fast through the forest at my back. Not a horseman; too light for that, and coming too fast through the brake.
I stayed as I was, half-turned, waiting. A prickling ran up the skin of my back, and I remembered the night's sleepless pain. The tingling ran into my fingers; I found I was clutching the rod until it hurt the flesh. All night, then, this had been coming. All night this had been waiting to happen. All night? If I was not mistaken, I had been waiting for this for fourteen years.»
The Hollow Hills

One day in the year of the fox,

When the bell began to ring,

It meant the time had come for one to go

To the temple of the king.

Go and find your hound link

«Fifty paces along the lake-side from where I sat, a stag broke cover. He saw me immediately, and stopped short, head high, poised to break the other way. He was white. In contrast the wide branches on his brow looked like polished bronze, and his eyes showed red as garnet. But he was real; there were stains of sweat on the white hide, and the thick hair of belly and neck was tagged with damp. A trail of yellow loosestrife had caught round his neck, and hung there like a collar. He looked back over his shoulder, then, stiff-legged, leaped from the bank into the water, and in two more bounds was shoulder-deep and swimming straight out into the lake.
The polished water broke and arrowed back. The splash was echoed by a crashing deep in the forest. Another beast coming, headlong.
I had been wrong in thinking that nothing could come through the forest as fast as a fleeing deer. Arthur's white hound, Cabal, broke from the trees exactly where the stag had broken, and hurled himself into the water. Seconds later Arthur himself, on the stallion Canrith, burst out after it.
He checked his horse on the shore, bringing it up rearing, fetlock deep. He had his bow strung ready in his hand. He pulled the stallion sideways and raised the bow, sighting from the back of the plunging horse. But deer swim low; only the stag's head showed above water, a wedge spearing away fast, its antlers flat behind it on the surface like boughs trailing. The hound, swimming strongly, was in line with it. Arthur lowered the bow, and turned the stallion back to breast the bank. In the moment before his spurs struck he saw me. He shouted something, and came cantering along the shingle.
His face was blazing with excitement. "Did you see him? Snow-white, and a head like an emperor! I never saw the like in my life! I'm going round. Cabal was closing, he'll hold him till I get there. Sorry I spoiled your fishing."
"Emrys—"
He checked impatiently. "What?"
"Look. He's making for the island."
He swung to look where I pointed. The stag had vanished into the mist, and the hound with him. There was no sign of them but the fading ripples flattening towards the shore
"The island, is it? Are you sure?"
"Certain."
"All the devils of hell," he said angrily. "What a cursed piece of luck! I thought I had him when Cabal sprang him so close." He hung on the rein, hesitating, staring out over the clouded lake while the stallion fretted, sidling. I suppose he was as much in awe of the place as anyone brought up in that valley. Then he set his mouth, curbing Canrith sharply. "I'm going to the island. I can say goodbye to the stag, I suppose-that was too good to be true-but I'm damned if I lose Cabal. Bedwyr gave him to me, and I've no mind to lose him to Bilis or anyone else, either in this world or the other." He put two fingers to his mouth and whistled shrilly. "Cabal! Cabal! Here, sir, here!"
"It's no good, you'll hardly turn him now."
"No." He took a breath. "Well, there's nothing for it, it'll have to be the island. If your magic will reach that far, Myrddin, send it with me now."
"It's with you always, you know that. You're not going to swim him across, are you?"
"He'll go," said Arthur, a little breathlessly, as he forced the reluctant stallion towards the water. "It's too far to go round. If that beast rakes to the crags, and Cabal follows it—"
"Why not take the boat? It's quicker, and that way you can bring Cabal back."
"Yes, but the wretched thing'll need bailing. It always does."
"I bailed it this morning. It's quite ready."
"Did you? That's the first bit of luck today! You were going out, then? Will you come with me?"
"No. I'll stay here. Come now, Emrys, go and find your hound."»
The Hollow Hills

There in the middle of the circle he stands,

Searching, seeking.

With just one touch of his trembling hand,

The answer will be found.

Daylight waits while the old man sings,

Heaven help me!

The circle of the Giant's Dance«I walked up alone that same evening. The hillside was alive with the bustle and roar, familiar to me from Kaerconan, of the aftermath of battle. But when I passed the wall that hedged the holy place, and came out towards the crest of the hill, it was like leaving a bustling hall for the quiet of some tower room upstairs. Sounds fell away below the walls, and as I walked up through the long summer grass, there was almost silence, and I was alone.
A round moon stood low in the sky, pale still, and smudged with shadow, and thin at one edge like a worn coin. There was a scatter of small stars, with here and there the shepherd stars herding them, and across from the moon one great star alone, burning white. The shadows were long and soft on the seeding grasses.
A tall stone stood alone, leaning a little towards the east. A little further was a pit, and beyond that again a round boulder that looked black in the moonlight. There was something here. I paused. Nothing I could put a name to, but the old, black stone itself might have been some dark creature hunched there over the pit's edge. I felt the shiver run over my skin, and turned away. This, I would not disturb.
The moon climbed with me, and as I entered the circle she lifted her white disc over the cap-stones and shone clear into the center of the ring. My footsteps crunched, dry and brittle, over a patch of ground where fires had recently been lit. I saw the white shapes of bones, and a flat stone shaped like an altar. The moonlight showed carving on one side, crude shapes twisted, of ropes or serpents. I stooped to run a finger over them. Nearby a mouse rustled and squeaked in the grass. No other sound. The thing was clean, dead, godless. I left it, moving on slowly through the moonthrown shadows. There was another stone, domed like a beehive, or a navel-stone. And here an upright fallen, with the long grass almost hiding it. As I passed it, searching still, a ripple of breeze ran through the grasses, blurring the shadows and dimming the light like mist. I caught my foot on something, staggered, and came down to my knees at the end of a long flat stone which lay almost hidden in the grass. My hands moved over it. It was massive, oblong, uncarved, simply a great natural stone on to which now the moonlight poured. It hardly needed the cold at my hands, the hiss of the bleached grasses under the sudden run of wind, the scent of daisies, to tell me that this was the stone. All round me, like dancers drawing back from a center, the silent stones stood black. On one side the white moon, on the other the king-star, burning white. I got slowly to my feet and stood there at the foot of the long stone, as one might stand at the foot of a bed, waiting for the man in it to die.»
The Crystal Cave

Far from the circle, at the edge of the world,

He's hoping, wondering.

Thinking back on the stories he's heard of

What he's going to see.

There, in the middle of a circle it lies.

Heaven help me!

Then all could see by the shine in his eyes

The answer had been found.

Caliburn«There, beyond the shining pool, the sword lay on its table. From the rock above a trickle of water had run and dripped, the lime on it hardening through the years until the oiled leather of the wrappings, though proof enough to keep the metal bright, had hardened under the dripping till it felt like stone. In this the thing had rested, the crust of lime forming to hide all but its shape, the long slenderness of the weapon and the hilt formed like a cross.
It still looked like a sword, but a stone one, some random accident of dripping limestone. Perhaps he remembered the other hilt he had grasped in the Green Chapel, or perhaps for a moment he, too, saw the future break open in front of him. With an action too quick for thought, and too instinctive to prevent, he laid his hand to the hilt.
He spoke to me, as if I stood beside him. Indeed, I suppose I was as near to him, and as real, as the white hound that crouched, whining at the pool's edge.
"I pulled at it, and it came clear of the stone. It is the most beautiful sword in the world. I shall call it Caliburn."»
The Hollow Hills

And then like the rush of a thousand wings,

It shines upon the one.

And the day has just begun.

Love-love-love«The boy threw me a strange look. He still looked doubtful, almost dazed. I said gently, not caring now who heard me: "Emrys—"
"Yes?"
"I have to thank you. It is true that I thought there was danger. I Was afraid."
The sullen look lifted. He did not smile, but the anger died from his face, and life came back into it, as vividly as the bright sword leaping from its dull sheath. I knew then that nothing I had done had even smudged the edges of his love for me. He said, with little to be heard in his tone except exasperation: "How long will it be before you realize that I would give my life itself to keep you from hurt?"
He glanced down again at the sword in his hand, almost as if he wondered how it had got there. Then he looked up, straight at Cador.
"If you harm him in any way, the kingdoms will not be wide enough to hold us both. I swear it."»

The most important thing«I got to my feet, and he followed suit. He raised a hand to his watching officer in the distance. I heard the words of command, and the sounds of the troop mounting. They rode towards us along the lake-side.
"You have a horse?" asked Cador. "Or shall I leave one with you now?"
"Thank you, no. I have one. I'll walk back to the chapel when I'm ready. There's something I have to do first."
He looked again at the sunlit forest, the still lake, the dreaming hills, as if power or magic must be ready to fall on me from their light. "Something still to do? Here?"
"Indeed." I picked up the fishing rod. "I still have to catch my dinner, and for two now, instead of one. And see, this day of days has even produced a breeze for me. If Arthur can lift the sword of Maximus from the lake, surely I shall be granted at least two decent fish?"»

Who the hell are you?«"Who are you?"
"My name is Myrddin Emrys, but I am known as Merlin the enchanter."
"Merlin? But then — but that means you are — you were — " He stopped, and swallowed.
"Merlinus Ambrosius, son of Ambrosius the High King? Yes."»

Magic in the air«"Watch now," I said. "I told you I would leave the sword in the god's protection. It has lain long enough in the darkness. Let us leave it now in the light."
I stretched out my hands. From the air the pale fire came, running down the blade, so that runes-quivering and illegible-shimmered there. Then the fire spread, engulfing it, till, like a brand too brightly flaring, the flames died, and when they had gone, there stood the altar, pale stone, with nothing against it but the stone sword.
Arthur had not seen me use this kind of power before, and he watched open-mouthed as the flames broke out of the air and caught at the stone. He drew back, awed and a little frightened, and the only colour in his face was the wanlight cast by the flames.
When it was done he stood very still, licking dry lips. I smiled at him.
"Come, be comfortable. You have seen me use magic before."
"Yes. But seeing this-this kind of thing . . . All this time, when Bedwyr and I were with you, you never let us know what sort of man you were . . . This power; I had no idea. You told us nothing of it."
"There was nothing to tell. There was no need for me to use it, and it wasn't something you could learn from me. You will have different skills, you and Bedwyr. You won't need this one. Besides, if you do, I shall be there to give it to you."
"Will you? Always? I wish I could believe that."
"It is true."
"I know," I said.
He stared at me for a moment longer, and in his face I could see a whole world of uncertainty and bewilderment and desire. It was a boy's look, immature and lost, and it was gone in a moment, replaced by his normal armour of bright courage. He smiled then, and the sparkle was back. "You may regret that, you know! Bedwyr's the only person who can stand me for long."
I laughed. "I'll do my best. Now, if you will, tell them to bring our horses out."»

I'm fabulous«When I was ready I went out to join the waiting men. Arthur was not mounted and fretting to be off, as I had expected; he was holding my horse for me, like a groom. I saw his eyes widen a little when he saw me; I had put on my best clothes, and my black mantle was lined with scarlet and pinned on the shoulder by the Dragon brooch of the royal house. He saw that I was amused and had guessed his thought, and smiled a little in return as he swung himself up on his white stallion. I took care that he should not see what I was thinking then; that the youth with the plain mantle and the bright, proud look did not need a brooch to declare himself Pendragon, and royal. But he drew the stallion soberly in behind my mild roan mare, and the men were watching me.»

The Hollow Hills

@темы: Звенит, Мерлин: llyfrau

Ржу как конь нахуй

@темы: На просторах, Видосы, телесный Армагеддон, тотальный Апокаляпсус

Определённо старею, и в связи с этим приоритеты меняются. Ещё год назад на вопрос "Дом твоей мечты?" я отвечала: "Пентхаус. Обязательно с огромными окнами, через которые видны высотки и большая часть города. С минимумом хлама, много пространства, дух необжитого места. Чисто, какие-нибудь скульптуры в виде геометрических фигур, никаких картин на стенах".
Сегодня на этот же вопрос я бы ответила: "Дом, можно двухэтажный, но не больше, желательно подальше от города. Внутренний дворик для собаки, потому что это однозначно — ребёнок будет расти с собакой. Как бы это странно ни звучало. Просторно, но всё в более тёплых пастельных тонах, а не в холодных, как было бы в первом варианте".
Старый добрый циник во мне постепенно затихает. Я всё такая же "аморальная" личность, как была и до этого, но мой шипастый ядовитый друг уже не так ярко выражен. Да, язвительный и ехидный юмор — это наше всё, я иначе шутить не умею, но он больше не вылазит на показ и не заявляет всем, что я колючий ядовитый подросток. То, что им скрывалось, планомерно выходит на первый план. Тем не менее, этот циник никуда не исчез и при первой опасности необходимости вылезет на передовую.

По поводу "расти с собакой". Два года назад на первом занятии с новым преподом по инглишу — хотя он спец по бизнес-инглишу, нам на бизнес поставили другую — мы болтали и рассказывали о себе. Тогда-то и была произнесена мной эта потрясная фраза "я росла с собакой", и все — особенно препод — живо представили себе, как я росла на псарне в окружении лишь собак. Мы с ним весело поржали на эту тему, я попыталась всё объяснить, почти оправдываясь — ну как обычно.
Кстати говоря, это офигительный препод, он самый офигительный из всех, он просто прелесть, и мне пророчили, что он позовёт меня на свидание, но до этого, конечно же, дело не дошло. Но он просто потрясный. Я люблю тех, кто умеет шутить. Смеюсь и смеюсь, ухахатываюсь, не переставая, как дурачок.

@темы: Психнедр, Эхо лесов

@темы: На просторах, Call me brother

Я немного песен люблю у Florence and the Machine — мне они кажутся однообразными. Но именно такое однообразие, именно этот привкус и оттенок у меня ассоциируется с Браном.


I'm so heavy, heavy,
Heavy in your arms
I'm so heavy, heavy,
Heavy in your arms

And is it worth the wait
All this killing time?
Are you strong enough to stand,
Protecting both your heart and mine?

моар Бран



Who is the betrayer?
Who's the killer in the crowd?

@темы: Brace yourself