nota very accurate list ... cz there are millions ... these are the top five of those that come to mind:
1) jealous guy
2) purple rain
3) final cut (any / all)
4) feeling love
5) when a blind man cries ...
n.b. - could not resist - feelings, the way we were, lets get it on, most of the time, she breaks like a little girl, suzzane, creep, the starting roll of fever dog, free falling, to make you feel my love, crazy, pink, moonriver, im not in love, smooth operator ... and i guess i better stop somewhere ...
most of the times, i do alright
once in a while i get this feeling, of detachment. i always know but sometimes you feel it more than ever. its a kind of weariness. its a kind of longing for rest. for a finale. for somethijg, just that i dont know what. its just an overwhelming tired ness. a re-inforcement of the feeling i dont belong here. i have no one here. or there. or anywhere. no friends, really anymore either. and thats all i had. not literally, but my way. with the passing of childhood and the commencement of 'real life' something evaporates from friendship ... theres a sense of 'i' we develop which is opposed to its heart, its basis. i. ego. sense of self. but thats growing up, isnt it. slowly as we grow we seperate a sense of 'self' from a sense of a combined universe. maybe in early childhood as we are learning to do this or practising, we develop alter egos / other 'i's ... but like branches growing out of the same tree part to bear flower and fruit ... we seperate. but there is the grown up friendhsip too ... or le truc comme ca ... something like that ... the pair in white ... running through the snow. like the rat and the mole. (cant think of the third example - or more imp - quality i wanted to potray ;) and the shops bout 2 clse )
Life
if you stopped for a moment id tell you
i gave up a long time ago
if you looked at me now you'd see
im lost. totally
you've always, always been my friend
now you're a stranger, at the end
i've loved you. i've laughed at you.
i've hated you. been mad at you
but i never thought you'll turn to stone
that you'll become a stranger one day
when i took you so lightly
you always loved me
now i care desperately
and uve turned a stranger to me
its halfway through your time together
halfway through your pact with me
or is it now close to the end
am i standing at the end
dont leave now, life
i want to live a few more days
i gave up a long time ago
if you looked at me now you'd see
im lost. totally
you've always, always been my friend
now you're a stranger, at the end
i've loved you. i've laughed at you.
i've hated you. been mad at you
but i never thought you'll turn to stone
that you'll become a stranger one day
when i took you so lightly
you always loved me
now i care desperately
and uve turned a stranger to me
its halfway through your time together
halfway through your pact with me
or is it now close to the end
am i standing at the end
dont leave now, life
i want to live a few more days
and so it is chrsitmas ...
dont feel like writing. had a lovely day. roaming around town. its magical the way the whole city is lit up for christmas. the fairs, the people, the shops, the trees. spoke to chatts for ages. poor child. hope she's not broke. something funny is wrong with me. i havent eaten since yesterday lunch and im not yet hungry. i was the only one at the club today so i skulled after ages ... i still suck at it. somethings never change. could you specialise in failing? i muct be the global expert ;@)
my top five irresitable songs TO CHEER ME UP ...
1) elevation (u2)
2) need u tonight (inxs)
3) never to old to rock and roll (tull)
4) twisting by the pool (ds)
5) im too sexy (right said fred)
next up ... top 5 songs that really move you. can make you cry. can make you smile. can you make you fall into urself in memories, dreams and lost thoughts.
my top five irresitable songs TO CHEER ME UP ...
1) elevation (u2)
2) need u tonight (inxs)
3) never to old to rock and roll (tull)
4) twisting by the pool (ds)
5) im too sexy (right said fred)
next up ... top 5 songs that really move you. can make you cry. can make you smile. can you make you fall into urself in memories, dreams and lost thoughts.
got me on my knees
walked back from class with a post all set in my head about how horrible life was but i walked into the shop and heard layla on the radio ... been years. music is something i tend to forget how much i love.
if anyone is reading this ... what are your top five cheer up songs. the ones that go wham in ur face and make u forget what u were thinking. like the musical equivalent of bumping into liz taylor (she's my fav - u can substitute) or colin firth ;)
if anyone is reading this ... what are your top five cheer up songs. the ones that go wham in ur face and make u forget what u were thinking. like the musical equivalent of bumping into liz taylor (she's my fav - u can substitute) or colin firth ;)
Child
everyday i punish her
everynight i watch her cry
does it bring me a little closer
to forgiving what she's done
forgiveness comes but i cant forget
she haunts me day and night
i hate everything she is and does
i can never get away from her
everynight i watch her cry
does it bring me a little closer
to forgiving what she's done
forgiveness comes but i cant forget
she haunts me day and night
i hate everything she is and does
i can never get away from her
Battlefield
dead bodies littered on the ground
covered by the fog
i walk amongst them pick one by one
looking for my love
covered by the fog
i walk amongst them pick one by one
looking for my love
Dancing in the Dark
she dances in the dark
like a little sliver of the sun
she waltzes in the dark
her brown eyes full of fun
she cries in a corner
quickly before u see
she cries for everynight
ceaselessly. silently
like a little sliver of the sun
she waltzes in the dark
her brown eyes full of fun
she cries in a corner
quickly before u see
she cries for everynight
ceaselessly. silently
cold enough to snow
its cold! so cold ...
rowing was cancelled today. inspite of the race next week? cz the canal is frozen!
the leaves on the road are frosted with ice. i walked to the net shop feeling brave in my cotton tshirt and then i saw a guy in shorts. isnt it a crazy world ...
romeo said my greatest love that springs from my greatest hate ... so much in life feels like that at times as we sway between the two twins of love and hate and wonder ... is there any difference between them after all. i like writing on the blog. but i dont like people i dont like reading it and sending me questionable mails dripping sweet affection and tender loving care. few things more irritating than people u dont like being sweet to you and you having to grit your teeth and be sweet to them in return
its michelle's birthday. i dont know where she has dissapeared and where she is now but whereever you are michelle ... i hope you have a great birthday and a wonderful year ahead! i loved being friends with you and having you around while you were around. miss ur sharp comments and funny jokes and a lot more besides. Happy birthday Mich.
listening to higher love on the radio. its been ages since i heard that. the season, the cold, and everyone being home is coming together to make go mad missing home. or rather it makes me think of home oftener ...
home. a wintery cal. late nights singalongs at someplace with jinx. sharma's in the cold. bonfires on ballygunge circular road. a pre echo to the flames of dawn. parties. picnics. victoria in the early morning. book fair. the terrace at night. my pangla and pengli. sauce and chatts and ad. baba and ma. looking in on us as they left for their party ... all dressed up looking drop dead beautiful. weeks of excitement as people plan what they'll wear for new years. endless dancing. glittering clothes. breakfast at flury's. imagine if we were all home! always ...
thats the what I want. i want to live in a place like this. where theres ma & papa, and mummy and baba, and rahul bhaiya, adit, chatts and sauce ... everyone. live at home. with all my books and my movies and my music around me. music playing all day long. and me and my book all alone with my pots and pots of coffee all night. and may shouting from her room cz the coffee machine made a noise. or i dropped something looking for leftovers in the fridge. 3am is a hungry time. bokrakkhosh. bero ranna ghor theke. shaara raat khut khaat kore.
i found this online looking up "it is such a secret place, the land of tears" (the little prince), and maybe it was my mind frame at that moment ... but i was struck by them.
Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig
And then suddenly he turns on you
With a miniature machine gun
--Matt Groening
Whoever fights monsters should see to it
That in the process he does not become a monster
And when you look long into the abyss
The abyss also looks into you
--Nietzsche
The wonderful quality that literature has...
To give immortality to those special souls
That make a difference
--Maribel "Lunacy" Piloto
We would fly from sin in terror if we knew its nature
But it presents itself as a most desirable thing
--Oswald Chambers
Qui custodiet ipsos custodes
(Who will guard the guardians themselves?)
--Juvenal
The right to be heard does not include
The right to be taken seriously
--Hubert H. Humphrey
a flashback. i was thinking of this post last night ... night ships in the mist
rowing was cancelled today. inspite of the race next week? cz the canal is frozen!
the leaves on the road are frosted with ice. i walked to the net shop feeling brave in my cotton tshirt and then i saw a guy in shorts. isnt it a crazy world ...
romeo said my greatest love that springs from my greatest hate ... so much in life feels like that at times as we sway between the two twins of love and hate and wonder ... is there any difference between them after all. i like writing on the blog. but i dont like people i dont like reading it and sending me questionable mails dripping sweet affection and tender loving care. few things more irritating than people u dont like being sweet to you and you having to grit your teeth and be sweet to them in return
its michelle's birthday. i dont know where she has dissapeared and where she is now but whereever you are michelle ... i hope you have a great birthday and a wonderful year ahead! i loved being friends with you and having you around while you were around. miss ur sharp comments and funny jokes and a lot more besides. Happy birthday Mich.
listening to higher love on the radio. its been ages since i heard that. the season, the cold, and everyone being home is coming together to make go mad missing home. or rather it makes me think of home oftener ...
home. a wintery cal. late nights singalongs at someplace with jinx. sharma's in the cold. bonfires on ballygunge circular road. a pre echo to the flames of dawn. parties. picnics. victoria in the early morning. book fair. the terrace at night. my pangla and pengli. sauce and chatts and ad. baba and ma. looking in on us as they left for their party ... all dressed up looking drop dead beautiful. weeks of excitement as people plan what they'll wear for new years. endless dancing. glittering clothes. breakfast at flury's. imagine if we were all home! always ...
thats the what I want. i want to live in a place like this. where theres ma & papa, and mummy and baba, and rahul bhaiya, adit, chatts and sauce ... everyone. live at home. with all my books and my movies and my music around me. music playing all day long. and me and my book all alone with my pots and pots of coffee all night. and may shouting from her room cz the coffee machine made a noise. or i dropped something looking for leftovers in the fridge. 3am is a hungry time. bokrakkhosh. bero ranna ghor theke. shaara raat khut khaat kore.
i found this online looking up "it is such a secret place, the land of tears" (the little prince), and maybe it was my mind frame at that moment ... but i was struck by them.
Love is a perky elf dancing a merry little jig
And then suddenly he turns on you
With a miniature machine gun
--Matt Groening
Whoever fights monsters should see to it
That in the process he does not become a monster
And when you look long into the abyss
The abyss also looks into you
--Nietzsche
The wonderful quality that literature has...
To give immortality to those special souls
That make a difference
--Maribel "Lunacy" Piloto
We would fly from sin in terror if we knew its nature
But it presents itself as a most desirable thing
--Oswald Chambers
Qui custodiet ipsos custodes
(Who will guard the guardians themselves?)
--Juvenal
The right to be heard does not include
The right to be taken seriously
--Hubert H. Humphrey
a flashback. i was thinking of this post last night ... night ships in the mist
comments and names :)
i wud be so grateful if u didnt use my 'name' on my oh-so-anonymous blog? and the haloscan comments are on holiday. un fais une pause ;)
send me an angel
"I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human with the soul of a clown, which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments." James Douglas Morrison
have you ever felt without words. without wishes. empty? bereft? drained? three words so close yet so far.
when ur right at the edge and about to give - up he sends you the angels. how else do you explain it? coming across the book just then? staying up all night to read it? just the day after, i asked him to help me with it? when i said i just couldnt? its like 'the light'. one day i will write about 'the light'. comme j'ai pas peur presque. c'est quoi? i dont know. ur at the end. ur struggling. Just to hold on for a moment cz u think the next will be better and someone says something to make you laugh and the spell is broken. ur safe again!
and he's gone before u cold say thank you. or anything even remotely more intelligent than uh-uh-uh ... :)
is no company better than bad company? a little girl i knew had once said that to a grown up. when asked why she was sitting alone, at the open gate of a moving train. the other kids were in a compartment playing. she meant it. literally. but she didnt mean bad company - she meant bad for her. she was too young to realise that it was an insult. she just meant 'id rather be alone'. when she realised, she was so ashamed and so scared of having hurt them that she ran in and cut of her right arm being nice to the other kids to make up for it. but secretly, they still bored her. not in the insulting way but in an almost apologetic way. she missed her little place by the door, where she could sit quietly and think. think about life and death and Her and the old begger lady at the station and once in a while about 3 men in a boat - which made her laugh ...
have you ever felt without words. without wishes. empty? bereft? drained? three words so close yet so far.
when ur right at the edge and about to give - up he sends you the angels. how else do you explain it? coming across the book just then? staying up all night to read it? just the day after, i asked him to help me with it? when i said i just couldnt? its like 'the light'. one day i will write about 'the light'. comme j'ai pas peur presque. c'est quoi? i dont know. ur at the end. ur struggling. Just to hold on for a moment cz u think the next will be better and someone says something to make you laugh and the spell is broken. ur safe again!
and he's gone before u cold say thank you. or anything even remotely more intelligent than uh-uh-uh ... :)
is no company better than bad company? a little girl i knew had once said that to a grown up. when asked why she was sitting alone, at the open gate of a moving train. the other kids were in a compartment playing. she meant it. literally. but she didnt mean bad company - she meant bad for her. she was too young to realise that it was an insult. she just meant 'id rather be alone'. when she realised, she was so ashamed and so scared of having hurt them that she ran in and cut of her right arm being nice to the other kids to make up for it. but secretly, they still bored her. not in the insulting way but in an almost apologetic way. she missed her little place by the door, where she could sit quietly and think. think about life and death and Her and the old begger lady at the station and once in a while about 3 men in a boat - which made her laugh ...
quotes, recipes, stains, academic / application notes from websites
What is Cognitive Science?
Cognitive science is the interdisciplinary study of mind and the nature of intelligence.
Scholars can come from a wide range of backgrounds -- including psychology, computer science, philosophy, mathematics, neuroscience, and others -- but share the common goals of better understanding the mind.
Training in cognitive science prepares students admirably well for many of the careers that are major growth fields of the twenty-first century, including: telecommunications, information processing, medical analysis, data retrieval, human-computer interaction, and education.
About the Program
Established in 1989, the Program in Cognitive Science at Indiana University brings together faculty from many departments to study cognition and information.
At present, 65 core faculty members and 38 associated faculty participate in the program. Representation is strong from the departments of psychology, philosophy, computer science, and linguistics. Other participating departments include biology, anthropology, education, library and information science, optometry, speech and hearing, and mathematics.
Cognitive Science at Indiana University offers many special strengths. The program is highly integrated, encouraging interdisciplinary cooperation between all the participating disciplines.
Along with the participating departments, there are also a large number of special groups, labs and research centers affiliated with the Program.
The Cognitive Science Program also sponsors a number of open forums to bring researchers together. During the academic year talks are given by researchers from around the world in our biweekly colloquium series. Less formal groups include the weekly cognitive lunch. The Program also sponsors national and international conferences. See our events schedule for more information.
The Program of Cognitive Science offers an undergraduate major (the B.A. in Cognitive and Information Sciences), and a joint Ph.D. Our undergraduate degree stresses skill acquisition, as opposed to a grab-bag of survey courses, and aims to foster the abilities that make students into scientists.
The curriculum also stresses hands-on, active learning, where students are both encouraged to participate in their own education and work with concrete examples. Undergraduate students will also be given opportunities to work in labs and join into research as earlier as soon as they enter the degree program.
Students will also find a faculty dedicated to teaching; a number of our faculty have received awards for their teaching, others have pioneered innovative teaching programs, and most importantly student satisfaction with past courses has been very high. Interested students are encouraged to write, email, or call us with any questions they may have.
Back to top
Contact Information
To learn more about our program and the opportunities we have, or for any other information, please feel free to contact us.
The Cognitive Science Program does not have a stand-alone PhD, but is considering it in the near future. For now, you must apply to an originating department. For more information about this, please check the graduate school website. Most departments have an on-line application. If you are an international student, your application must go through International Admissions. You should send a copy of the application to the Cognitive Science Program to let us know that you are applying.
To Contact the Department:
Send us e-mail:
cogsci@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-2722
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to us at:
Cognitive Science Program
819 Eigenmann
1910 E. 10th St.
Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47406-7512
To Contact the Director:
Send e-mail:
shiffrin@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-4972
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to:
Richard Shiffrin
Director, Cognitive Science Program
Psychology Building, Room 350
1101 E. 10th St. Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47405-7007
To Contact Specific People in Our Program:
See our people pages for the email addresses and other contact information for faculty, staff, and students.
Cognoscente email list
Cognoscente is a mail server account used for announcements of meetings, conferences, and colloquia. This list is not for discussion purposes or to send individual messages.
New subscribe and unsubscribe requests should be sent to the majordomo server at IU directly:
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The body of the message should consist of 'subscribe cognoscente' or 'unsubscribe cognoscente' (without the quotes).
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Cognitive Science Program, 819 Eigenmann, 1910 E. 10th St.,
Indiana University, Bloomington, IN 47406-7512 USA
Phone: (812) 855-2722 Fax: (812) 855-1086
Email the Cognitive Science Program
Comments
Copyright 2004, The Trustees of Indiana University
Copyright Complaints What is Cognitive Science?
Cognitive science is the interdisciplinary study of mind and the nature of intelligence.
Scholars can come from a wide range of backgrounds -- including psychology, computer science, philosophy, mathematics, neuroscience, and others -- but share the common goals of better understanding the mind.
Training in cognitive science prepares students admirably well for many of the careers that are major growth fields of the twenty-first century, including: telecommunications, information processing, medical analysis, data retrieval, human-computer interaction, and education.
About the Program
Established in 1989, the Program in Cognitive Science at Indiana University brings together faculty from many departments to study cognition and information.
At present, 65 core faculty members and 38 associated faculty participate in the program. Representation is strong from the departments of psychology, philosophy, computer science, and linguistics. Other participating departments include biology, anthropology, education, library and information science, optometry, speech and hearing, and mathematics.
Cognitive Science at Indiana University offers many special strengths. The program is highly integrated, encouraging interdisciplinary cooperation between all the participating disciplines.
Along with the participating departments, there are also a large number of special groups, labs and research centers affiliated with the Program.
The Cognitive Science Program also sponsors a number of open forums to bring researchers together. During the academic year talks are given by researchers from around the world in our biweekly colloquium series. Less formal groups include the weekly cognitive lunch. The Program also sponsors national and international conferences. See our events schedule for more information.
The Program of Cognitive Science offers an undergraduate major (the B.A. in Cognitive and Information Sciences), and a joint Ph.D. Our undergraduate degree stresses skill acquisition, as opposed to a grab-bag of survey courses, and aims to foster the abilities that make students into scientists.
The curriculum also stresses hands-on, active learning, where students are both encouraged to participate in their own education and work with concrete examples. Undergraduate students will also be given opportunities to work in labs and join into research as earlier as soon as they enter the degree program.
Students will also find a faculty dedicated to teaching; a number of our faculty have received awards for their teaching, others have pioneered innovative teaching programs, and most importantly student satisfaction with past courses has been very high. Interested students are encouraged to write, email, or call us with any questions they may have.
Back to top
Contact Information
To learn more about our program and the opportunities we have, or for any other information, please feel free to contact us.
The Cognitive Science Program does not have a stand-alone PhD, but is considering it in the near future. For now, you must apply to an originating department. For more information about this, please check the graduate school website. Most departments have an on-line application. If you are an international student, your application must go through International Admissions. You should send a copy of the application to the Cognitive Science Program to let us know that you are applying.
To Contact the Department:
Send us e-mail:
cogsci@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-2722
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to us at:
Cognitive Science Program
819 Eigenmann
1910 E. 10th St.
Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47406-7512
To Contact the Director:
Send e-mail:
shiffrin@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-4972
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to:
Richard Shiffrin
Director, Cognitive Science Program
Psychology Building, Room 350
1101 E. 10th St. Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47405-7007
To Contact Specific People in Our Program:
See our people pages for the email addresses and other contact information for faculty, staff, and students.
Cognoscente email list
Cognoscente is a mail server account used for announcements of meetings, conferences, and colloquia. This list is not for discussion purposes or to send individual messages.
New subscribe and unsubscribe requests should be sent to the majordomo server at IU directly:
majordomo@indiana.edu
The body of the message should consist of 'subscribe cognoscente' or 'unsubscribe cognoscente' (without the quotes).
Only members may send messages to cognoscente. To send to the list, use a subscribed email account and address your message to:
cognoscente@indiana.edu
More information is available at the Cognoscente Information Page.
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Indiana University, Bloomington
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Cognitive Science Program, 819 Eigenmann, 1910 E. 10th St.,
Indiana University, Bloomington, IN 47406-7512 USA
Phone: (812) 855-2722 Fax: (812) 855-1086
Email the Cognitive Science Program
Comments
Copyright 2004, The Trustees of Indiana University
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When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for
that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
prophylactic
Cognitive science is the interdisciplinary study of mind and the nature of intelligence.
Scholars can come from a wide range of backgrounds -- including psychology, computer science, philosophy, mathematics, neuroscience, and others -- but share the common goals of better understanding the mind.
Training in cognitive science prepares students admirably well for many of the careers that are major growth fields of the twenty-first century, including: telecommunications, information processing, medical analysis, data retrieval, human-computer interaction, and education.
About the Program
Established in 1989, the Program in Cognitive Science at Indiana University brings together faculty from many departments to study cognition and information.
At present, 65 core faculty members and 38 associated faculty participate in the program. Representation is strong from the departments of psychology, philosophy, computer science, and linguistics. Other participating departments include biology, anthropology, education, library and information science, optometry, speech and hearing, and mathematics.
Cognitive Science at Indiana University offers many special strengths. The program is highly integrated, encouraging interdisciplinary cooperation between all the participating disciplines.
Along with the participating departments, there are also a large number of special groups, labs and research centers affiliated with the Program.
The Cognitive Science Program also sponsors a number of open forums to bring researchers together. During the academic year talks are given by researchers from around the world in our biweekly colloquium series. Less formal groups include the weekly cognitive lunch. The Program also sponsors national and international conferences. See our events schedule for more information.
The Program of Cognitive Science offers an undergraduate major (the B.A. in Cognitive and Information Sciences), and a joint Ph.D. Our undergraduate degree stresses skill acquisition, as opposed to a grab-bag of survey courses, and aims to foster the abilities that make students into scientists.
The curriculum also stresses hands-on, active learning, where students are both encouraged to participate in their own education and work with concrete examples. Undergraduate students will also be given opportunities to work in labs and join into research as earlier as soon as they enter the degree program.
Students will also find a faculty dedicated to teaching; a number of our faculty have received awards for their teaching, others have pioneered innovative teaching programs, and most importantly student satisfaction with past courses has been very high. Interested students are encouraged to write, email, or call us with any questions they may have.
Back to top
Contact Information
To learn more about our program and the opportunities we have, or for any other information, please feel free to contact us.
The Cognitive Science Program does not have a stand-alone PhD, but is considering it in the near future. For now, you must apply to an originating department. For more information about this, please check the graduate school website. Most departments have an on-line application. If you are an international student, your application must go through International Admissions. You should send a copy of the application to the Cognitive Science Program to let us know that you are applying.
To Contact the Department:
Send us e-mail:
cogsci@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-2722
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to us at:
Cognitive Science Program
819 Eigenmann
1910 E. 10th St.
Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47406-7512
To Contact the Director:
Send e-mail:
shiffrin@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-4972
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to:
Richard Shiffrin
Director, Cognitive Science Program
Psychology Building, Room 350
1101 E. 10th St. Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47405-7007
To Contact Specific People in Our Program:
See our people pages for the email addresses and other contact information for faculty, staff, and students.
Cognoscente email list
Cognoscente is a mail server account used for announcements of meetings, conferences, and colloquia. This list is not for discussion purposes or to send individual messages.
New subscribe and unsubscribe requests should be sent to the majordomo server at IU directly:
majordomo@indiana.edu
The body of the message should consist of 'subscribe cognoscente' or 'unsubscribe cognoscente' (without the quotes).
Only members may send messages to cognoscente. To send to the list, use a subscribed email account and address your message to:
cognoscente@indiana.edu
More information is available at the Cognoscente Information Page.
Back to top
Life in Bloomington
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Cognitive Science Program, 819 Eigenmann, 1910 E. 10th St.,
Indiana University, Bloomington, IN 47406-7512 USA
Phone: (812) 855-2722 Fax: (812) 855-1086
Email the Cognitive Science Program
Comments
Copyright 2004, The Trustees of Indiana University
Copyright Complaints What is Cognitive Science?
Cognitive science is the interdisciplinary study of mind and the nature of intelligence.
Scholars can come from a wide range of backgrounds -- including psychology, computer science, philosophy, mathematics, neuroscience, and others -- but share the common goals of better understanding the mind.
Training in cognitive science prepares students admirably well for many of the careers that are major growth fields of the twenty-first century, including: telecommunications, information processing, medical analysis, data retrieval, human-computer interaction, and education.
About the Program
Established in 1989, the Program in Cognitive Science at Indiana University brings together faculty from many departments to study cognition and information.
At present, 65 core faculty members and 38 associated faculty participate in the program. Representation is strong from the departments of psychology, philosophy, computer science, and linguistics. Other participating departments include biology, anthropology, education, library and information science, optometry, speech and hearing, and mathematics.
Cognitive Science at Indiana University offers many special strengths. The program is highly integrated, encouraging interdisciplinary cooperation between all the participating disciplines.
Along with the participating departments, there are also a large number of special groups, labs and research centers affiliated with the Program.
The Cognitive Science Program also sponsors a number of open forums to bring researchers together. During the academic year talks are given by researchers from around the world in our biweekly colloquium series. Less formal groups include the weekly cognitive lunch. The Program also sponsors national and international conferences. See our events schedule for more information.
The Program of Cognitive Science offers an undergraduate major (the B.A. in Cognitive and Information Sciences), and a joint Ph.D. Our undergraduate degree stresses skill acquisition, as opposed to a grab-bag of survey courses, and aims to foster the abilities that make students into scientists.
The curriculum also stresses hands-on, active learning, where students are both encouraged to participate in their own education and work with concrete examples. Undergraduate students will also be given opportunities to work in labs and join into research as earlier as soon as they enter the degree program.
Students will also find a faculty dedicated to teaching; a number of our faculty have received awards for their teaching, others have pioneered innovative teaching programs, and most importantly student satisfaction with past courses has been very high. Interested students are encouraged to write, email, or call us with any questions they may have.
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Contact Information
To learn more about our program and the opportunities we have, or for any other information, please feel free to contact us.
The Cognitive Science Program does not have a stand-alone PhD, but is considering it in the near future. For now, you must apply to an originating department. For more information about this, please check the graduate school website. Most departments have an on-line application. If you are an international student, your application must go through International Admissions. You should send a copy of the application to the Cognitive Science Program to let us know that you are applying.
To Contact the Department:
Send us e-mail:
cogsci@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-2722
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to us at:
Cognitive Science Program
819 Eigenmann
1910 E. 10th St.
Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47406-7512
To Contact the Director:
Send e-mail:
shiffrin@indiana.edu
Telephone:
812-855-4972
Fax:
812-855-1086
Write to:
Richard Shiffrin
Director, Cognitive Science Program
Psychology Building, Room 350
1101 E. 10th St. Indiana University
Bloomington, IN 47405-7007
To Contact Specific People in Our Program:
See our people pages for the email addresses and other contact information for faculty, staff, and students.
Cognoscente email list
Cognoscente is a mail server account used for announcements of meetings, conferences, and colloquia. This list is not for discussion purposes or to send individual messages.
New subscribe and unsubscribe requests should be sent to the majordomo server at IU directly:
majordomo@indiana.edu
The body of the message should consist of 'subscribe cognoscente' or 'unsubscribe cognoscente' (without the quotes).
Only members may send messages to cognoscente. To send to the list, use a subscribed email account and address your message to:
cognoscente@indiana.edu
More information is available at the Cognoscente Information Page.
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Life in Bloomington
Bloomington Visitors Bureau
HoosierNet, a resource for local information
The City of Bloomington
Indiana University, Bloomington
Back to top
Cognitive Science Program, 819 Eigenmann, 1910 E. 10th St.,
Indiana University, Bloomington, IN 47406-7512 USA
Phone: (812) 855-2722 Fax: (812) 855-1086
Email the Cognitive Science Program
Comments
Copyright 2004, The Trustees of Indiana University
Copyright Complaints
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http://www.alwaysontherun.net/who.htm
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for
that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
It is such a secret place, the land of tears.
~Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince
prophylactic
juste milieu
palliative
opiate
sedative
Sebastien-Roch Nicolas De Chamfort Living is a sickness to which sleep provides relief every sixteen hours. It's a palliative. The remedy is death.
oh! Grease again!
The key it so rub liquid laundry detergent into the area, and let it
set for a few minutes (about 3 or so) BEFORE putting it into the
wash. Air dry and take a look. It may take several times to get
t all out. Sudsy ammonia is a good choice, pour it on the spot,
let set then wash.
Beef Bourguignonne
Adapted from "The Good Housekeeping Step-by-Step Cookbook", edited by Susan Westermoreland (Hearst Books)
This is a classic dish in which beef is simmered in a hearty red wine. It's perfect fall comfort food. After simmering, the cooking liquid can be reduced to make a slightly thick sauce.
2 slices bacon
2 pounds boneless beef chuck, trimmed and cut into 1 1/2 -inch pieces
5 tablespoons all-purpose flour, divided
Salt and pepper to taste
1 to 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 large onion, peeled, sliced
2 medium carrots, peeled, sliced into 1/2 -inch pieces or chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled, minced
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cups dry red wine
1 cup reduced-sodium beef broth
1/2 bay leaf
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1 pound fresh pearl onions, peeled (see note) or frozen and thawed
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, divided
1 cup water
1 pound mushrooms, cleaned, cut into quarters if large
Fresh chopped parsley for garnish
In a Dutch oven or large pot, cook the bacon over medium heat until it begins to brown; remove it and transfer it to a bowl.
Pat the beef dry with paper towels. Place 3 tablespoons of the flour in a plastic bag and season it with salt and pepper. Add the beef cubes and shake the bag to coat the meat with the flour.
To the same Dutch oven or pot the bacon was cooked in, add 1 teaspoon of the vegetable oil to the bacon drippings. Increase the heat to medium-high. Working in batches if necessary, add the seasoned beef cubes and cook them, turning often until the beef is well browned on all sides. Add 1 teaspoon more oil to the pot if necessary. Transfer the meat to the bowl with the bacon.
Reduce the heat to medium. Add the onions, carrots and garlic to the pot and cook, stirring often, until they are tender.
Stir in the remaining 2 tablespoons flour and cook 1 minute.
Stir in the tomato paste and cook 1 minute.
Add the wine, beef broth, bay leaf, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper and thyme. Stir until the browned bits on the bottom of the pot are loosened.
Return the beef and bacon to the pot and heat to boiling over high heat. Reduce the heat to low; cover and simmer 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until the beef is very tender.
Skim the fat and remove and discard the bay leaf. (Once the beef is tender, if you like, remove it using a slotted spoon and set it aside. Place the pot with the cooking liquid in it over medium-high heat. Cook about 10 minutes until the mixture is slightly reduced and is just thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.)
Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat the white onions, sugar, 1 tablespoon butter and 1 cup water until the liquid boils. Reduce the heat to low; cover and simmer 10 minutes or until the onions are tender. Uncover, cook over medium-high heat, shaking the pan occasionally, until the water evaporates and the onions are golden.
In another skillet, melt the remaining 1 tablespoon butter over medium-high heat. Add the mushrooms and a pinch of salt and pepper; cook, stirring often, until the mushrooms are tender and the liquid evaporates.
Stir the onions and mushrooms into the beef stew and serve. Garnish with fresh parsley.
Yield: 6 generous servings
Per serving: 494 calories (41% from fat), 23 grams fat (9 grams sat. fat), 33 grams carbohydrates, 35 grams protein, 1,069 mg sodium, 111 mg cholesterol, 56 mg calcium, 2 grams fiber.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Buber, Martin--Philosophy, Tillich, Paul--Philosophy, Philosophers--Philosophy, Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm--Philosophy, Sartre, Jean-Paul--Philosophy, Camus, Albert--Philosophy, God--Proof, Russell, Bertrand--Philosophy, Atheism--Philosophy
Simone de Beauvoir, Philosophy & and Feminism
prince
art of war
in th nm
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You are Gold Lion, who is rather serious and polite type of person.
You value personal relationships.
You suppress yourself and act to be a sociable person.
But you are really a person who doesn't like to loose to anyone.
You dislike emotional atmosphere and vague attitude.
You want to make everything clear-cut.
You like to stay in your own little world.
If you get in a situation where there are lots of people you can not express yourself and act as a perfect person.
You are not very subjective sort of person, unlike ordinary women, but unfortunately you lack soft and gentle atmosphere.
You tend to be too bold.
You cannot help but stretch your hand to those who are in need.
You are very kind person who helps the weak.
You are also weak on compliments, and will work enthusiastically after someone has given a compliment.
You will go about your duty steadily and loyally, and not get in a rush to achieve the objective.
You have perseverance, and will work effortlessly until you reach your objective.
Something that you have worked steadily for a long, long time, will turn out to be an asset to the world.
You are careful and rational, and therefore place value to steady life.
After getting married, you will be a devoted mother and a wife, but you are really a very dependent person, and prefer to keep your own little world.
I DO NOT LOVE THEE
- Carolyn Elizabeth Sarah Norton
I do not love thee! - no! I do not love thee!
and yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
I do not love thee! - yet, I know not why,
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!
I do not love thee! - yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be near)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.
I do not love thee! - yet, thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.
I know I do not love thee! yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.
http://home3.inet.tele.dk/stadil/peanuts-end.htm
PEANUTS: 'A GREAT GIFT' by Bill Watterson
Comic strip cartooning requires such a peculiar combination of talents that there are very few people who are ever successful at it. Of those, Charles Schulz is in league all his own. Schulz reconfigured the comic strip landscape and dominated it for the last half of its history. One can scarcely overstate the importance of "Peanuts" to the comics, or overstate its influence on all of us who have followed. By now, "Peanuts" is so thoroughly a part of the popular culture, that one loses sight of how different the strip was from anything else 40 and 50 years ago. We can quantify the strip's success in all its various commercial markets, but the real achievement of the strip lies inside the little boxes of funny pictures Schulz drew every day.
Back when the comics were printed large enough that they could accommodate detailed, elaborate drawings, "Peanuts" was launched with an insultingly tiny format, designed so the panels could be stacked vertically if an editor wanted to run it in a single column. Schulz somehow turned this oppressive space restriction to his advantage and developed a brilliant graphic shorthand and stylistic economy, innovations unrecognizable now that all comics are tiny and Schulz's solutions have been universally imitated. Graphically, the strip is static and spare. Schulz gave up virtually all the "cinematic" devices that create visual drama: there are no fancy perspectives, no interesting croppings, no shadows and lighting effects, no three-dimensional modeling, few props and few settings. Schulz distilled each subject to its barest essence, and drew it straight-on or side view, in simple outlines. But while the simplicity of Schulz's drawings made the strip stand out from the rest, it was the expressiveness within the simplicity that made Schulz's artwork so forceful. Lucy yelling with her head tilted back so her mouth fills her entire face; Linus, horrified, with his hair standing on end; Charlie Brown radiating utter misery with a wiggly, downturned mouth; Snoopy's elastic face pulled up to show large gritted teeth as he fights the Red Baron--these were not just economical drawings, they were funny drawings. More yet, they were beautiful. Drawn with a crow quill-type pen dipped in ink, Schulz's linework had character in its quirky velocity and pressure, unlike the slick, uniform lines of today's markers and technical pens.
"Peanuts" could never be drawn by anonymous assistants, as so many other strips were and are -- its line is inimitable. The strip looked simple, but Schulz's sophisticated choices reveal a deep understanding of cartooning's strengths. I studied those drawings endlessly as a kid and it was an invaluable education in how comics worked.
Indeed, everything about the strip was a reflection of its creator's spirit. "Peanuts" is one of those magical strips that creates its own world. Its world is a distortion of our own, but we enter it on its terms, and in doing so, see our world more clearly. It may seem strange that there are no adults in "Peanuts'" world, but in asking us to identify only with children, Schulz reminds us that our fears and insecurities are not much different when we grow up. We recognize ourselves in Schulz's vividly tragic characters: Charlie Brown's dogged determination in the face of constant defeat, Lucy's self-righteous crabbiness, Linus's need for a security blanket, Peppermint Patty's plain looks and poor grades, Rerun's baffled innocence, Spike's pathetic alienation and loneliness. For a "kid strip" with "gentle humor," it shows a pretty dark world, and I think this is what makes the strip so different from, and so much more significant than, other comics. Only with the inspired surrealism of Snoopy does the strip soar into silliness and fantasy. And even then, the Red Baron shoots the doghouse full of holes.
Over the last century, there have been only a handful of truly great comic strips, comics that pushed the boundaries of the medium and tried to do more than tell little jokes as a relief from the atrocities described in the rest of the newspaper. Schulz did it all: he drew a beautiful comic strip, a funny comic strip, and a thoughtful, serious comic strip. For that, "Peanuts" achieved a level of commercial success the comics had never seen before. We should understand, as Schulz did, that the merchandising empire "Peanuts" created would never have worked had the strip not been so consistently good. How a cartoonist maintains this level of quality decade upon decade, I have no insight, but I'm guessing that Schulz is a driven perfectionist who truly loved drawing cartoons more than anything else.
I've never met Charles Schulz, but long ago his work introduced me to what a comic strip could be, and made me want to be a cartoonist myself. He was a hero to me as a kid, and his influence on my work and life is long and deep. I suspect most cartoonists would say something similar. Schulz has given all his readers a great gift, and my gratitude for that tempers my disappointment at the strip's cessation. May there someday be a writer/artist/philosopher/humorist who can fill even a part of the void "Peanuts" leaves behind.
palliative
opiate
sedative
Sebastien-Roch Nicolas De Chamfort Living is a sickness to which sleep provides relief every sixteen hours. It's a palliative. The remedy is death.
oh! Grease again!
The key it so rub liquid laundry detergent into the area, and let it
set for a few minutes (about 3 or so) BEFORE putting it into the
wash. Air dry and take a look. It may take several times to get
t all out. Sudsy ammonia is a good choice, pour it on the spot,
let set then wash.
Beef Bourguignonne
Adapted from "The Good Housekeeping Step-by-Step Cookbook", edited by Susan Westermoreland (Hearst Books)
This is a classic dish in which beef is simmered in a hearty red wine. It's perfect fall comfort food. After simmering, the cooking liquid can be reduced to make a slightly thick sauce.
2 slices bacon
2 pounds boneless beef chuck, trimmed and cut into 1 1/2 -inch pieces
5 tablespoons all-purpose flour, divided
Salt and pepper to taste
1 to 2 teaspoons vegetable oil
1 large onion, peeled, sliced
2 medium carrots, peeled, sliced into 1/2 -inch pieces or chopped
2 cloves garlic, peeled, minced
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2 cups dry red wine
1 cup reduced-sodium beef broth
1/2 bay leaf
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
1 pound fresh pearl onions, peeled (see note) or frozen and thawed
1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons butter or margarine, divided
1 cup water
1 pound mushrooms, cleaned, cut into quarters if large
Fresh chopped parsley for garnish
In a Dutch oven or large pot, cook the bacon over medium heat until it begins to brown; remove it and transfer it to a bowl.
Pat the beef dry with paper towels. Place 3 tablespoons of the flour in a plastic bag and season it with salt and pepper. Add the beef cubes and shake the bag to coat the meat with the flour.
To the same Dutch oven or pot the bacon was cooked in, add 1 teaspoon of the vegetable oil to the bacon drippings. Increase the heat to medium-high. Working in batches if necessary, add the seasoned beef cubes and cook them, turning often until the beef is well browned on all sides. Add 1 teaspoon more oil to the pot if necessary. Transfer the meat to the bowl with the bacon.
Reduce the heat to medium. Add the onions, carrots and garlic to the pot and cook, stirring often, until they are tender.
Stir in the remaining 2 tablespoons flour and cook 1 minute.
Stir in the tomato paste and cook 1 minute.
Add the wine, beef broth, bay leaf, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper and thyme. Stir until the browned bits on the bottom of the pot are loosened.
Return the beef and bacon to the pot and heat to boiling over high heat. Reduce the heat to low; cover and simmer 1 1/2 to 2 hours, until the beef is very tender.
Skim the fat and remove and discard the bay leaf. (Once the beef is tender, if you like, remove it using a slotted spoon and set it aside. Place the pot with the cooking liquid in it over medium-high heat. Cook about 10 minutes until the mixture is slightly reduced and is just thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.)
Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat the white onions, sugar, 1 tablespoon butter and 1 cup water until the liquid boils. Reduce the heat to low; cover and simmer 10 minutes or until the onions are tender. Uncover, cook over medium-high heat, shaking the pan occasionally, until the water evaporates and the onions are golden.
In another skillet, melt the remaining 1 tablespoon butter over medium-high heat. Add the mushrooms and a pinch of salt and pepper; cook, stirring often, until the mushrooms are tender and the liquid evaporates.
Stir the onions and mushrooms into the beef stew and serve. Garnish with fresh parsley.
Yield: 6 generous servings
Per serving: 494 calories (41% from fat), 23 grams fat (9 grams sat. fat), 33 grams carbohydrates, 35 grams protein, 1,069 mg sodium, 111 mg cholesterol, 56 mg calcium, 2 grams fiber.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Buber, Martin--Philosophy, Tillich, Paul--Philosophy, Philosophers--Philosophy, Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm--Philosophy, Sartre, Jean-Paul--Philosophy, Camus, Albert--Philosophy, God--Proof, Russell, Bertrand--Philosophy, Atheism--Philosophy
Simone de Beauvoir, Philosophy & and Feminism
prince
art of war
in th nm
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
You are Gold Lion, who is rather serious and polite type of person.
You value personal relationships.
You suppress yourself and act to be a sociable person.
But you are really a person who doesn't like to loose to anyone.
You dislike emotional atmosphere and vague attitude.
You want to make everything clear-cut.
You like to stay in your own little world.
If you get in a situation where there are lots of people you can not express yourself and act as a perfect person.
You are not very subjective sort of person, unlike ordinary women, but unfortunately you lack soft and gentle atmosphere.
You tend to be too bold.
You cannot help but stretch your hand to those who are in need.
You are very kind person who helps the weak.
You are also weak on compliments, and will work enthusiastically after someone has given a compliment.
You will go about your duty steadily and loyally, and not get in a rush to achieve the objective.
You have perseverance, and will work effortlessly until you reach your objective.
Something that you have worked steadily for a long, long time, will turn out to be an asset to the world.
You are careful and rational, and therefore place value to steady life.
After getting married, you will be a devoted mother and a wife, but you are really a very dependent person, and prefer to keep your own little world.
I DO NOT LOVE THEE
- Carolyn Elizabeth Sarah Norton
I do not love thee! - no! I do not love thee!
and yet when thou art absent I am sad;
And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,
Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.
I do not love thee! - yet, I know not why,
Whate'er thou dost seems still well done, to me:
And often in my solitude I sigh
That those I do love are not more like thee!
I do not love thee! - yet, when thou art gone,
I hate the sound (though those who speak be near)
Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone
Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.
I do not love thee! - yet, thy speaking eyes,
With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,
Between me and the midnight heaven arise,
Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.
I know I do not love thee! yet, alas!
Others will scarcely trust my candid heart;
And oft I catch them smiling as they pass,
Because they see me gazing where thou art.
http://home3.inet.tele.dk/stadil/peanuts-end.htm
PEANUTS: 'A GREAT GIFT' by Bill Watterson
Comic strip cartooning requires such a peculiar combination of talents that there are very few people who are ever successful at it. Of those, Charles Schulz is in league all his own. Schulz reconfigured the comic strip landscape and dominated it for the last half of its history. One can scarcely overstate the importance of "Peanuts" to the comics, or overstate its influence on all of us who have followed. By now, "Peanuts" is so thoroughly a part of the popular culture, that one loses sight of how different the strip was from anything else 40 and 50 years ago. We can quantify the strip's success in all its various commercial markets, but the real achievement of the strip lies inside the little boxes of funny pictures Schulz drew every day.
Back when the comics were printed large enough that they could accommodate detailed, elaborate drawings, "Peanuts" was launched with an insultingly tiny format, designed so the panels could be stacked vertically if an editor wanted to run it in a single column. Schulz somehow turned this oppressive space restriction to his advantage and developed a brilliant graphic shorthand and stylistic economy, innovations unrecognizable now that all comics are tiny and Schulz's solutions have been universally imitated. Graphically, the strip is static and spare. Schulz gave up virtually all the "cinematic" devices that create visual drama: there are no fancy perspectives, no interesting croppings, no shadows and lighting effects, no three-dimensional modeling, few props and few settings. Schulz distilled each subject to its barest essence, and drew it straight-on or side view, in simple outlines. But while the simplicity of Schulz's drawings made the strip stand out from the rest, it was the expressiveness within the simplicity that made Schulz's artwork so forceful. Lucy yelling with her head tilted back so her mouth fills her entire face; Linus, horrified, with his hair standing on end; Charlie Brown radiating utter misery with a wiggly, downturned mouth; Snoopy's elastic face pulled up to show large gritted teeth as he fights the Red Baron--these were not just economical drawings, they were funny drawings. More yet, they were beautiful. Drawn with a crow quill-type pen dipped in ink, Schulz's linework had character in its quirky velocity and pressure, unlike the slick, uniform lines of today's markers and technical pens.
"Peanuts" could never be drawn by anonymous assistants, as so many other strips were and are -- its line is inimitable. The strip looked simple, but Schulz's sophisticated choices reveal a deep understanding of cartooning's strengths. I studied those drawings endlessly as a kid and it was an invaluable education in how comics worked.
Indeed, everything about the strip was a reflection of its creator's spirit. "Peanuts" is one of those magical strips that creates its own world. Its world is a distortion of our own, but we enter it on its terms, and in doing so, see our world more clearly. It may seem strange that there are no adults in "Peanuts'" world, but in asking us to identify only with children, Schulz reminds us that our fears and insecurities are not much different when we grow up. We recognize ourselves in Schulz's vividly tragic characters: Charlie Brown's dogged determination in the face of constant defeat, Lucy's self-righteous crabbiness, Linus's need for a security blanket, Peppermint Patty's plain looks and poor grades, Rerun's baffled innocence, Spike's pathetic alienation and loneliness. For a "kid strip" with "gentle humor," it shows a pretty dark world, and I think this is what makes the strip so different from, and so much more significant than, other comics. Only with the inspired surrealism of Snoopy does the strip soar into silliness and fantasy. And even then, the Red Baron shoots the doghouse full of holes.
Over the last century, there have been only a handful of truly great comic strips, comics that pushed the boundaries of the medium and tried to do more than tell little jokes as a relief from the atrocities described in the rest of the newspaper. Schulz did it all: he drew a beautiful comic strip, a funny comic strip, and a thoughtful, serious comic strip. For that, "Peanuts" achieved a level of commercial success the comics had never seen before. We should understand, as Schulz did, that the merchandising empire "Peanuts" created would never have worked had the strip not been so consistently good. How a cartoonist maintains this level of quality decade upon decade, I have no insight, but I'm guessing that Schulz is a driven perfectionist who truly loved drawing cartoons more than anything else.
I've never met Charles Schulz, but long ago his work introduced me to what a comic strip could be, and made me want to be a cartoonist myself. He was a hero to me as a kid, and his influence on my work and life is long and deep. I suspect most cartoonists would say something similar. Schulz has given all his readers a great gift, and my gratitude for that tempers my disappointment at the strip's cessation. May there someday be a writer/artist/philosopher/humorist who can fill even a part of the void "Peanuts" leaves behind.
http://www.inf.ed.ac.uk/research/ianc/publications.html
http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definition/translation-english/
Quo Vadis is a novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz, describing the introduction of Christianity into early A.D. Rome (while under Nero's rule). It was published in 1895. This novel chiefly contributed to Sienkiewicz's Nobel Prize for literature in 1905.
External links
"Quo Vadis - A Narrative of the Time of Nero" (Project Gutenberg text online)
http://www.jump-gate.com/languages/french/french1.html
http://www.orbilat.com/Languages/French/Grammar/French-Conjunctions.html
http://www.orbilat.com/Languages/French/index.html
http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=french+pronunciation&spell=1
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http://allrecipes.com/directory/926.asp
http://www.angelfire.com/country/fauziaspakistan/authenticbiryani.html
http://www.goodhousekeeping.co.uk/
http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/
http://www.heloise.com/
http://www.parsicommunity.com/ParsiCuisine/parsicuisine.htm
http://www.parsionline.com/20_parsi_recipes.htm
http://homecooking.about.com/
http://homecooking.about.com/
http://www.cameroncrowe.com/crowe_town.html
http://www.rollingstone.com/?rnd=1099412112048&has-player=false
Soundtrack: Almost Famous
Title: It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference (Todd Rundgren)
Do you remember the last time I said
If I ever thought about lying,
I'd rather think of dying instead
And maybe you remember the last time you called me
to say we were through
How it took a million tears
just to prove they all were for you
But those days are through
'Cause it wouldn't have made any difference,
if you loved me
How could you love me
When it wouldn't really make any difference,
if you really loved me
You just didn't love me
'Cause I know of hundreds of times I could be
In the most unfaithful arms that you always picture me
And maybe you remember that
though I can't always show proof I was true
No one else could change my mind or
stop me coming home to you
But those days are through
You just did not love me enough to believe me
Enough not to leave me
Enough not to look for a reason to be unhappy with me
And make me regret ever wanting you
But those days are through
1hr marinate chicken,jeera lonka haldi ada rosun nn lime juice.tandur d chickenn.heat butter n addonon posto kaju n saute,add doihaldi n salt.remove frm fire n make paste of it.heat oil,addada rosun paste n garam masala n then add d previous paste,cook 15min,add chicken,cook till soft,addsaffron n cream n sserve with sprinkled keora water.read carefully b4 coking,sm items u ned twice egginger garlic etc,l
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
II
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
Clot the bedded axle-tree.
The trilling wire in the blood
Sings below inveterate scars
Appeasing long forgotten wars.
The dance along the artery
The circulation of the lymph
Are figured in the drift of stars
Ascend to summer in the tree
We move above the moving tree
In light upon the figured leaf
And hear upon the sodden floor
Below, the boarhound and the boar
Pursue their pattern as before
But reconciled among the stars.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where.
And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.
The inner freedom from the practical desire,
The release from action and suffering, release from the inner
And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded
By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving,
Erhebung without motion, concentration
Without elimination, both a new world
And the old made explicit, understood
In the completion of its partial ecstasy,
The resolution of its partial horror.
Yet the enchainment of past and future
Woven in the weakness of the changing body,
Protects mankind from heaven and damnation
Which flesh cannot endure.
Time past and time future
Allow but a little consciousness.
To be conscious is not to be in time
But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden,
The moment in the arbour where the rain beat,
The moment in the draughty church at smokefall
Be remembered; involved with past and future.
Only through time time is conquered.
III
Here is a place of disaffection
Time before and time after
In a dim light: neither daylight
Investing form with lucid stillness
Turning shadow into transient beauty
With slow rotation suggesting permanence
Nor darkness to purify the soul
Emptying the sensual with deprivation
Cleansing affection from the temporal.
Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker
Over the strained time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time,
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs
Time before and time after.
Eructation of unhealthy souls
Into the faded air, the torpid
Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,
Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,
Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here
Not here the darkness, in this twittering world.
Descend lower, descend only
Into the world of perpetual solitude,
World not world, but that which is not world,
Internal darkness, deprivation
And destitution of all property,
Desiccation of the world of sense,
Evacuation of the world of fancy,
Inoperancy of the world of spirit;
This is the one way, and the other
Is the same, not in movement
But abstention from movement; while the world moves
In appetency, on its metalled ways
Of time past and time future.
IV
Time and the bell have buried the day,
The black cloud carries the sun away.
Will the sunflower turn to us, will the clematis
Stray down, bend to us; tendril and spray
Clutch and cling?
Chill
Fingers of yew be curled
Down on us? After the kingfisher's wing
Has answered light to light, and is silent, the light is still
At the still point of the turning world.
V
Words move, music moves
Only in time; but that which is only living
Can only die. Words, after speech, reach
Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,
Can words or music reach
The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness.
Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts,
Not that only, but the co-existence,
Or say that the end precedes the beginning,
And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now. Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still. Shrieking voices
Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering,
Always assail them. The Word in the desert
Is most attacked by voices of temptation,
The crying shadow in the funeral dance,
The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera.
The detail of the pattern is movement,
As in the figure of the ten stairs.
Desire itself is movement
Not in itself desirable;
Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage
Quick now, here, now, always—
Ridiculous the waste sad time
Stretching before and after.
4 hard-cooked eggs
1 large onion
4 Tbsps. butter or more
1/2 Tbsp. curry powder
5 Tbsps. flour
2 cups milk, heated in a small pan
4 to 6 Tbsps. dry vermouth or dry white wine
Salt
White pepper
1 - 2 tsp. minced fresh dill weed (or a big pinch or two of dried)
2/3 cup grated swiss cheese (or other cheese or mix of cheeses as desired)
Flake the salmon, and slice or quarter the eggs.
Mince the onion and cook slowly in the butter in a 2-quart saucepan
til limp. Stir in curry powder and flour. Add more butter if
needed to absorb all the flour. Cook, stirring constantly for 2
to 3 minutes.
Remove from heat and let cool a minute or so then blend in the hot
milk with a wire whisk. Return to heat and simmr, stirring
constantly, for 2 minutes. Add the wine, and simmer several minutes
more, stirring frequently. Season carefully to taste.
Fold the salmon into the sauce, fold in the dill, and taste again
for seasonings.
Spread hald the salmon mixture in the bottom of a buttered baking
dish and spread half of the cheese on top. Arrange the eggs over
the cheese and spread the rest of the salmon mixture over them and
cover with remaining cheese.
(The baking dish called for is 6-cup baking dish that is 2 inches
deep.) (The dish can be put togehter up to this point as much as
12 hours in advance. Cover tightly and refrigerate)
About 1/2 hour before serving, place dish in the upper third level
of a 400 F oven. Bake until contents are bubbling and cheese has
browned lightly (the time will vary according to the starting
temperature of the mixture, so after 10 minutes keep a close eye
on it). Do not overcook or the salmon will dry out and the eggs
will toughen.
===
http://recipes2.alastra.com/fish/gratin-salmon.txt
http://www.livescience.com/humanbiology/050929_brain_sleep.html
The compartmentalization might also help the brain's synapses,
which make all the connections that give us thought,
to take a break, according to Tononi's colleague, Marcello Massimini.
"This process would allow cortical circuits to eliminate noisy synapses and renormalize in order to be ready for the next day," Massimini told
LiveScience. The reduced activity might also help explain why
performance in various tasks improves after sleep, he said.
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/
Computer Science: MSc Computer Science (MSc CS)
http://www.cs.ucl.ac.uk/postgraduate_msc_bioscience.html
MSc Computer Science - Bioscience Computing (link goes to external site)
http://www.cs.ucl.ac.uk/research_groups_bio.html
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/graduate-degrees/life-sciences/psychology/index.shtml
MSc in Cognitive Neuropsychology (jointly with Birkbeck College)
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/gr-degrees-2005/life-sciences/psychology/taught/index.shtml
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/gr-degrees-2005/life-sciences/psychology/taught/cognitive-neuropsychology/index.shtml
www.imperial.ac.uk
http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/universityguide/
profile/story/0,,486068,00.html
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/graduate-degrees/index.shtml
http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/universityguide/profile/
story/0,,492901,00.html
www.ox.ac.uk
Comp Sci
1. Imperial College 82 6 5.00 5.00 10.00 4.0 9.00 3.00
2. York 81 6 7.00 5.00 9.00 4.0 10.00 1.00
3. Oxford 81 n/a 8.00 n/a 10.00 3.0 10.00 2.00
4. University College London 80 5 8.00 5.00 9.00 4.0 8.00 4.00
5. King's Col, London 79 5 7.00 6.00 8.00 4.0 7.00 4.00
6. Edinburgh 78 6 10.00 5.00 8.00 3.0 8.00 2.00
7. St Andrews 76 5 5.00 6.00 9.00 3.0 8.00 2.00
8. Cambridge 75 n/a 6.00 n/a 10.00 3.0 10.00 1.00
9. Glasgow 74 6 7.00 5.00 8.00 4.0 7.00 1.00
10. Bristol 73 6 6.00 4.00 9.00 4.0 8.00 1.00
http://www.corante.com/brainwaves/
http://cogprints.org/view/year/2005.html
http://carbon.cudenver.edu/~mryder/itc_data/cogsci.html
http://www.mindhacks.com/index.rdf
http://cognitrn.psych.indiana.edu/rgoldsto/cogsci/classics.html
===
Queen's University Belfast: Institute of Cognition and Culture Belfast
Cambridge University: MRC Cognition & Brain Sciences Unit Cambridge
University of Birmingham: Psychology Edbaston
University of Edinburgh: Division of Informatics Edinburgh
University of Exeter: School of Psychology Exeter
University of Sussex: Cognitive and Computer Sciences Falmer
University College London: Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience London
King's College London: Institute of Psychiatry-Neuroscience London
King's College London: School of Biomedical Sciences, Centre for Neuroscience London
University of Oxford: Graduate Center for Biosciences Oxford
http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definition/translation-english/
Quo Vadis is a novel by Henryk Sienkiewicz, describing the introduction of Christianity into early A.D. Rome (while under Nero's rule). It was published in 1895. This novel chiefly contributed to Sienkiewicz's Nobel Prize for literature in 1905.
External links
"Quo Vadis - A Narrative of the Time of Nero" (Project Gutenberg text online)
http://www.jump-gate.com/languages/french/french1.html
http://www.orbilat.com/Languages/French/Grammar/French-Conjunctions.html
http://www.orbilat.com/Languages/French/index.html
http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&q=french+pronunciation&spell=1
http://globegate.utm.edu/french/globegate_mirror/oral.html
http://flan.utsa.edu/french_class/pronunciation/prinpron.htm
http://www.ifecosse.org.uk/Site%20fran%E7ais/welcome.htm
http://www.websters-online-dictionary.org/definition/translation-english/
http://www.laits.utexas.edu/tex/
http://photobiker.com/index.html
http://www.questia.com/
http://blogs.warwick.ac.uk/blogbuilder/sysadmin/registerForBlog.spr
http://www.sonymusic.co.in/storeloc/storeloc.asp?cookie%5Ftest=1
http://www.sonymusic.co.in/storeloc/storeloc.asp?cookie%5Ftest=1
http://www.landmarkonthenet.com/home.html
http://www.pentrace.com/penbase/Data_Returns/full_article.asp?id=271
http://allrecipes.com/advice/coll/all/articles/577P1.asp
http://www.dotparagon.com/resources/color.html
http://www.edinburgh.gov.uk/
http://www.google.com/search?hl=en&lr=&q=history+gaelic+norse+celtic+angles
http://www.edinburgh.gov.uk/libraries/
http://www.constitution.org/mac/prince00.htm
http://www.number2.com/index.cfm
http://allrecipes.com/directory/926.asp
http://www.angelfire.com/country/fauziaspakistan/authenticbiryani.html
http://www.goodhousekeeping.co.uk/
http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/
http://www.heloise.com/
http://www.parsicommunity.com/ParsiCuisine/parsicuisine.htm
http://www.parsionline.com/20_parsi_recipes.htm
http://homecooking.about.com/
http://homecooking.about.com/
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
http://www.constitution.org/mac/prince00.htmhttp://www.cameroncrowe.com/crowe_town.html
http://www.rollingstone.com/?rnd=1099412112048&has-player=false
Soundtrack: Almost Famous
Title: It Wouldn't Have Made Any Difference (Todd Rundgren)
Do you remember the last time I said
If I ever thought about lying,
I'd rather think of dying instead
And maybe you remember the last time you called me
to say we were through
How it took a million tears
just to prove they all were for you
But those days are through
'Cause it wouldn't have made any difference,
if you loved me
How could you love me
When it wouldn't really make any difference,
if you really loved me
You just didn't love me
'Cause I know of hundreds of times I could be
In the most unfaithful arms that you always picture me
And maybe you remember that
though I can't always show proof I was true
No one else could change my mind or
stop me coming home to you
But those days are through
You just did not love me enough to believe me
Enough not to leave me
Enough not to look for a reason to be unhappy with me
And make me regret ever wanting you
But those days are through
ma: recipe's
murg jaffrani---120gms boneless chicken-4pcs,100gm kaju,50gms chaarmagaj-indian shop e pabi,100gm garam masala gurro,25 posto,20 gm chilli powder,100gm onion paste,15gm ginger paste,10gm garlic paste,100gms doi,15gmjeera,5gms haldi,100gm oil,50 gm crem,50gm butter, lemon juice n pinch of saffron n keora water little-few drops.1hr marinate chicken,jeera lonka haldi ada rosun nn lime juice.tandur d chickenn.heat butter n addonon posto kaju n saute,add doihaldi n salt.remove frm fire n make paste of it.heat oil,addada rosun paste n garam masala n then add d previous paste,cook 15min,add chicken,cook till soft,addsaffron n cream n sserve with sprinkled keora water.read carefully b4 coking,sm items u ned twice egginger garlic etc,l
Thursday, October 28, 2004
poem - transfer to serendib
ITime present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility
Only in a world of speculation.
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.
Other echoes
Inhabit the garden. Shall we follow?
Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,
Round the corner. Through the first gate,
Into our first world, shall we follow
The deception of the thrush? Into our first world.
There they were, dignified, invisible,
Moving without pressure, over the dead leaves,
In the autumn heat, through the vibrant air,
And the bird called, in response to
The unheard music hidden in the shrubbery,
And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the roses
Had the look of flowers that are looked at.
There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.
So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,
Along the empty alley, into the box circle,
To look down into the drained pool.
Dry the pool, dry concrete, brown edged,
And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,
And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,
The surface glittered out of heart of light,
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.
Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.
Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,
Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.
Go, go, go, said the bird: human kind
Cannot bear very much reality.
Time past and time future
What might have been and what has been
Point to one end, which is always present.
II
Garlic and sapphires in the mud
Clot the bedded axle-tree.
The trilling wire in the blood
Sings below inveterate scars
Appeasing long forgotten wars.
The dance along the artery
The circulation of the lymph
Are figured in the drift of stars
Ascend to summer in the tree
We move above the moving tree
In light upon the figured leaf
And hear upon the sodden floor
Below, the boarhound and the boar
Pursue their pattern as before
But reconciled among the stars.
At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,
There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.
I can only say, there we have been: but I cannot say where.
And I cannot say, how long, for that is to place it in time.
The inner freedom from the practical desire,
The release from action and suffering, release from the inner
And the outer compulsion, yet surrounded
By a grace of sense, a white light still and moving,
Erhebung without motion, concentration
Without elimination, both a new world
And the old made explicit, understood
In the completion of its partial ecstasy,
The resolution of its partial horror.
Yet the enchainment of past and future
Woven in the weakness of the changing body,
Protects mankind from heaven and damnation
Which flesh cannot endure.
Time past and time future
Allow but a little consciousness.
To be conscious is not to be in time
But only in time can the moment in the rose-garden,
The moment in the arbour where the rain beat,
The moment in the draughty church at smokefall
Be remembered; involved with past and future.
Only through time time is conquered.
III
Here is a place of disaffection
Time before and time after
In a dim light: neither daylight
Investing form with lucid stillness
Turning shadow into transient beauty
With slow rotation suggesting permanence
Nor darkness to purify the soul
Emptying the sensual with deprivation
Cleansing affection from the temporal.
Neither plenitude nor vacancy. Only a flicker
Over the strained time-ridden faces
Distracted from distraction by distraction
Filled with fancies and empty of meaning
Tumid apathy with no concentration
Men and bits of paper, whirled by the cold wind
That blows before and after time,
Wind in and out of unwholesome lungs
Time before and time after.
Eructation of unhealthy souls
Into the faded air, the torpid
Driven on the wind that sweeps the gloomy hills of London,
Hampstead and Clerkenwell, Campden and Putney,
Highgate, Primrose and Ludgate. Not here
Not here the darkness, in this twittering world.
Descend lower, descend only
Into the world of perpetual solitude,
World not world, but that which is not world,
Internal darkness, deprivation
And destitution of all property,
Desiccation of the world of sense,
Evacuation of the world of fancy,
Inoperancy of the world of spirit;
This is the one way, and the other
Is the same, not in movement
But abstention from movement; while the world moves
In appetency, on its metalled ways
Of time past and time future.
IV
Time and the bell have buried the day,
The black cloud carries the sun away.
Will the sunflower turn to us, will the clematis
Stray down, bend to us; tendril and spray
Clutch and cling?
Chill
Fingers of yew be curled
Down on us? After the kingfisher's wing
Has answered light to light, and is silent, the light is still
At the still point of the turning world.
V
Words move, music moves
Only in time; but that which is only living
Can only die. Words, after speech, reach
Into the silence. Only by the form, the pattern,
Can words or music reach
The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness.
Not the stillness of the violin, while the note lasts,
Not that only, but the co-existence,
Or say that the end precedes the beginning,
And the end and the beginning were always there
Before the beginning and after the end.
And all is always now. Words strain,
Crack and sometimes break, under the burden,
Under the tension, slip, slide, perish,
Decay with imprecision, will not stay in place,
Will not stay still. Shrieking voices
Scolding, mocking, or merely chattering,
Always assail them. The Word in the desert
Is most attacked by voices of temptation,
The crying shadow in the funeral dance,
The loud lament of the disconsolate chimera.
The detail of the pattern is movement,
As in the figure of the ten stairs.
Desire itself is movement
Not in itself desirable;
Love is itself unmoving,
Only the cause and end of movement,
Timeless, and undesiring
Except in the aspect of time
Caught in the form of limitation
Between un-being and being.
Sudden in a shaft of sunlight
Even while the dust moves
There rises the hidden laughter
Of children in the foliage
Quick now, here, now, always—
Ridiculous the waste sad time
Stretching before and after.
Gratin of Poached Salmon
2 poached salmon steaks (or about 2 cups of salmon cooked any other way)4 hard-cooked eggs
1 large onion
4 Tbsps. butter or more
1/2 Tbsp. curry powder
5 Tbsps. flour
2 cups milk, heated in a small pan
4 to 6 Tbsps. dry vermouth or dry white wine
Salt
White pepper
1 - 2 tsp. minced fresh dill weed (or a big pinch or two of dried)
2/3 cup grated swiss cheese (or other cheese or mix of cheeses as desired)
Flake the salmon, and slice or quarter the eggs.
Mince the onion and cook slowly in the butter in a 2-quart saucepan
til limp. Stir in curry powder and flour. Add more butter if
needed to absorb all the flour. Cook, stirring constantly for 2
to 3 minutes.
Remove from heat and let cool a minute or so then blend in the hot
milk with a wire whisk. Return to heat and simmr, stirring
constantly, for 2 minutes. Add the wine, and simmer several minutes
more, stirring frequently. Season carefully to taste.
Fold the salmon into the sauce, fold in the dill, and taste again
for seasonings.
Spread hald the salmon mixture in the bottom of a buttered baking
dish and spread half of the cheese on top. Arrange the eggs over
the cheese and spread the rest of the salmon mixture over them and
cover with remaining cheese.
(The baking dish called for is 6-cup baking dish that is 2 inches
deep.) (The dish can be put togehter up to this point as much as
12 hours in advance. Cover tightly and refrigerate)
About 1/2 hour before serving, place dish in the upper third level
of a 400 F oven. Bake until contents are bubbling and cheese has
browned lightly (the time will vary according to the starting
temperature of the mixture, so after 10 minutes keep a close eye
on it). Do not overcook or the salmon will dry out and the eggs
will toughen.
===
http://recipes2.alastra.com/fish/gratin-salmon.txt
notes - cognition
Fluid Concepts and Creative Analogieshttp://www.livescience.com/humanbiology/050929_brain_sleep.html
The compartmentalization might also help the brain's synapses,
which make all the connections that give us thought,
to take a break, according to Tononi's colleague, Marcello Massimini.
"This process would allow cortical circuits to eliminate noisy synapses and renormalize in order to be ready for the next day," Massimini told
LiveScience. The reduced activity might also help explain why
performance in various tasks improves after sleep, he said.
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/
Computer Science: MSc Computer Science (MSc CS)
http://www.cs.ucl.ac.uk/postgraduate_msc_bioscience.html
MSc Computer Science - Bioscience Computing (link goes to external site)
http://www.cs.ucl.ac.uk/research_groups_bio.html
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/graduate-degrees/life-sciences/psychology/index.shtml
MSc in Cognitive Neuropsychology (jointly with Birkbeck College)
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/gr-degrees-2005/life-sciences/psychology/taught/index.shtml
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/gr-degrees-2005/life-sciences/psychology/taught/cognitive-neuropsychology/index.shtml
www.imperial.ac.uk
http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/universityguide/
profile/story/0,,486068,00.html
http://www.ucl.ac.uk/prospective-students/graduate-degrees/index.shtml
http://education.guardian.co.uk/higher/universityguide/profile/
story/0,,492901,00.html
www.ox.ac.uk
Comp Sci
1. Imperial College 82 6 5.00 5.00 10.00 4.0 9.00 3.00
2. York 81 6 7.00 5.00 9.00 4.0 10.00 1.00
3. Oxford 81 n/a 8.00 n/a 10.00 3.0 10.00 2.00
4. University College London 80 5 8.00 5.00 9.00 4.0 8.00 4.00
5. King's Col, London 79 5 7.00 6.00 8.00 4.0 7.00 4.00
6. Edinburgh 78 6 10.00 5.00 8.00 3.0 8.00 2.00
7. St Andrews 76 5 5.00 6.00 9.00 3.0 8.00 2.00
8. Cambridge 75 n/a 6.00 n/a 10.00 3.0 10.00 1.00
9. Glasgow 74 6 7.00 5.00 8.00 4.0 7.00 1.00
10. Bristol 73 6 6.00 4.00 9.00 4.0 8.00 1.00
http://www.corante.com/brainwaves/
http://cogprints.org/view/year/2005.html
http://carbon.cudenver.edu/~mryder/itc_data/cogsci.html
http://www.mindhacks.com/index.rdf
http://cognitrn.psych.indiana.edu/rgoldsto/cogsci/classics.html
===
Queen's University Belfast: Institute of Cognition and Culture Belfast
Cambridge University: MRC Cognition & Brain Sciences Unit Cambridge
University of Birmingham: Psychology Edbaston
University of Edinburgh: Division of Informatics Edinburgh
University of Exeter: School of Psychology Exeter
University of Sussex: Cognitive and Computer Sciences Falmer
University College London: Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience London
King's College London: Institute of Psychiatry-Neuroscience London
King's College London: School of Biomedical Sciences, Centre for Neuroscience London
University of Oxford: Graduate Center for Biosciences Oxford
the traditional day to look back ...
wrote a huge post and then deleted it. its not ... 'appropriate'. life moves on. life winds down. towards the end, u come closer and closer to ur mistakes, ur wounds, till ur face to face, eye to eye, with every pain and shame and anger. was it better to live lightheartedly? without too much thought. or passion. or emotion? to skim the surface to of life as it were? not for me. this is my pace. this is my intensity. ill take it, whichever side it goes - happy or sad. to live life half heartedly, just for the sake of living, breeding and dying ... what good id that? i feel different suddenly.
i feel something falling off. its guilt? or its pity. they all caim they are as strong, as grownup - so why should i watch my steps. i feel today if any of them came up to me, I would not soften it and take the blame for them again - i wont feel sorry. i wont make it easy for them. they hurt you. they keep hitting at you. and to keep down the backlash they make u feel its all ur fault. i dont want it like that anymore.
im not going to trust anyone any more. im not gonna wanna take their pain anymore. not even in my heart. they r not worth it. but i know the rebellion wont last long. i will forgive even those who stabbed me closest. and i will even hold them and comfort them for the remorse they feel after. its not fair.
and then i feel tired. im tired. i just wanna go to sleep. its late.
i feel something falling off. its guilt? or its pity. they all caim they are as strong, as grownup - so why should i watch my steps. i feel today if any of them came up to me, I would not soften it and take the blame for them again - i wont feel sorry. i wont make it easy for them. they hurt you. they keep hitting at you. and to keep down the backlash they make u feel its all ur fault. i dont want it like that anymore.
im not going to trust anyone any more. im not gonna wanna take their pain anymore. not even in my heart. they r not worth it. but i know the rebellion wont last long. i will forgive even those who stabbed me closest. and i will even hold them and comfort them for the remorse they feel after. its not fair.
and then i feel tired. im tired. i just wanna go to sleep. its late.
Happy Birthday
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
the traditional day to look back, take stock, and 'watch where your going'. Im going nowhere near where I want to. I have lost everyone who mattered. I dont care too much for what I have picked up. i have passed up a chance to do what i wanted and then gone on to fuck up what he wanted. i have attacked her for hurting her. and hurt myself, in hurting him. no gods. no home. the family i had handpicked and handbuilt washed away like a sand castle, while i chased the one i had in a mad moment of fancy. what have i done. what have we done to myself. to my life ...
we are walking along life with no road map. at each point that the road forks, we take one of the roads ... why? is it always a conscious decision? sometimes the other road is blocked, sometimes u meet someone cute and while talking to them u dont notice and unconsciously take the same turn as them, sometimes u take a bad road just to get rid of someone who u fell in with who turned out to be irritating ... sometimes ur just lost in thought and take a random road ... how conscious are we and how much percent of the time? these forks come up 24/7/4/12 ... and every year
Year Ending: eine schlusselerlenis? in the long run ... what is? Right here right now looks like this year was the so hard packed with Action! The best of the best - the worst of the worst. Exquisite pleasures and Crippling pain. Rippling laughter layered over a bed of tears drying up into welterschmerz, a little more everyday. So many new friends. And isolation now finally made perfect. For me, everything is always changing. Like sitting in a helicoptor with a wine hearted pilot zipping in random directions above a town. Each turn brings a new, different view. Each turn makes everything look different ... Good, bad, right wrong ... forget black and white ... my world is a swirling mass of colors. Sometimes I think ... life is so short and there so little left, yet there so much I still want to do. How will I fit everything in? And other times I think theres so many days still left to live ... how will I bear it for so long? More and more the question chases my thoughts, my solitude ... Why? Why are we living? Whats the logic? Its so pointless? Live / Breed / Die ... like a cockroach.
"I want to die. No, Im not sad. No logic. No explanation, No tears, No pity. Just a overwhelming ennui. a deep welterschmersz.A paralysing weariness. I cant go on. Not anymore. I have run so hard so long so alone. I am tired now. I want to rest. I cant wait for the show to end. I give up. Ill never catch up. Ill never make it, as big as I wanted to make it. And everything else seems to fade. Whats the use? Whats the point? Endlessly, Futilely, struggling ... on & on forever after. Forever against the tide. And the tide is forever I."- Ray W. Guelph, 1913
we are walking along life with no road map. at each point that the road forks, we take one of the roads ... why? is it always a conscious decision? sometimes the other road is blocked, sometimes u meet someone cute and while talking to them u dont notice and unconsciously take the same turn as them, sometimes u take a bad road just to get rid of someone who u fell in with who turned out to be irritating ... sometimes ur just lost in thought and take a random road ... how conscious are we and how much percent of the time? these forks come up 24/7/4/12 ... and every year
Year Ending: eine schlusselerlenis? in the long run ... what is? Right here right now looks like this year was the so hard packed with Action! The best of the best - the worst of the worst. Exquisite pleasures and Crippling pain. Rippling laughter layered over a bed of tears drying up into welterschmerz, a little more everyday. So many new friends. And isolation now finally made perfect. For me, everything is always changing. Like sitting in a helicoptor with a wine hearted pilot zipping in random directions above a town. Each turn brings a new, different view. Each turn makes everything look different ... Good, bad, right wrong ... forget black and white ... my world is a swirling mass of colors. Sometimes I think ... life is so short and there so little left, yet there so much I still want to do. How will I fit everything in? And other times I think theres so many days still left to live ... how will I bear it for so long? More and more the question chases my thoughts, my solitude ... Why? Why are we living? Whats the logic? Its so pointless? Live / Breed / Die ... like a cockroach.
"I want to die. No, Im not sad. No logic. No explanation, No tears, No pity. Just a overwhelming ennui. a deep welterschmersz.A paralysing weariness. I cant go on. Not anymore. I have run so hard so long so alone. I am tired now. I want to rest. I cant wait for the show to end. I give up. Ill never catch up. Ill never make it, as big as I wanted to make it. And everything else seems to fade. Whats the use? Whats the point? Endlessly, Futilely, struggling ... on & on forever after. Forever against the tide. And the tide is forever I."- Ray W. Guelph, 1913
Happy Birthday
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
the traditional day to look back, take stock, and 'watch where your going'. Im going nowhere near where I want to. I have lost everyone who mattered. I dont care too much for what I have picked up. i have passed up a chance to do what i wanted and then gone on to fuck up what he wanted. i have attacked her for hurting her. and hurt myself, in hurting him. no gods. no home. the family i had handpicked and handbuilt washed away like a sand castle, while i chased the one i had in a mad moment of fancy. what have i done. what have we done to myself. to my life ...
we are walking along life with no road map. at each point that the road forks, we take one of the roads ... why? is it always a conscious decision? sometimes the other road is blocked, sometimes u meet someone cute and while talking to them u dont notice and unconsciously take the same turn as them, sometimes u take a bad road just to get rid of someone who u fell in with who turned out to be irritating ... sometimes ur just lost in thought and take a random road ... how conscious are we and how much percent of the time? these forks come up 24/7/4/12 ... and every year
Year Ending: eine schlusselerlenis? in the long run ... what is? Right here right now looks like this year was the so hard packed with Action! The best of the best - the worst of the worst. Exquisite pleasures and Crippling pain. Rippling laughter layered over a bed of tears drying up into welterschmerz, a little more everyday. So many new friends. And isolation now finally made perfect. For me, everything is always changing. Like sitting in a helicoptor with a wine hearted pilot zipping in random directions above a town. Each turn brings a new, different view. Each turn makes everything look different ... Good, bad, right wrong ... forget black and white ... my world is a swirling mass of colors. Sometimes I think ... life is so short and there so little left, yet there so much I still want to do. How will I fit everything in? And other times I think theres so many days still left to live ... how will I bear it for so long? More and more the question chases my thoughts, my solitude ... Why? Why are we living? Whats the logic? Its so pointless? Live / Breed / Die ... like a cockroach.
"I want to die. No, Im not sad. No logic. No explanation, No tears, No pity. Just a overwhelming ennui. a deep welterschmersz.A paralysing weariness. I cant go on. Not anymore. I have run so hard so long so alone. I am tired now. I want to rest. I cant wait for the show to end. I give up. Ill never catch up. Ill never make it, as big as I wanted to make it. And everything else seems to fade. Whats the use? Whats the point? Endlessly, Futilely, struggling ... on & on forever after. Forever against the tide. And the tide is forever I."- Ray W. Guelph, 1913
we are walking along life with no road map. at each point that the road forks, we take one of the roads ... why? is it always a conscious decision? sometimes the other road is blocked, sometimes u meet someone cute and while talking to them u dont notice and unconsciously take the same turn as them, sometimes u take a bad road just to get rid of someone who u fell in with who turned out to be irritating ... sometimes ur just lost in thought and take a random road ... how conscious are we and how much percent of the time? these forks come up 24/7/4/12 ... and every year
Year Ending: eine schlusselerlenis? in the long run ... what is? Right here right now looks like this year was the so hard packed with Action! The best of the best - the worst of the worst. Exquisite pleasures and Crippling pain. Rippling laughter layered over a bed of tears drying up into welterschmerz, a little more everyday. So many new friends. And isolation now finally made perfect. For me, everything is always changing. Like sitting in a helicoptor with a wine hearted pilot zipping in random directions above a town. Each turn brings a new, different view. Each turn makes everything look different ... Good, bad, right wrong ... forget black and white ... my world is a swirling mass of colors. Sometimes I think ... life is so short and there so little left, yet there so much I still want to do. How will I fit everything in? And other times I think theres so many days still left to live ... how will I bear it for so long? More and more the question chases my thoughts, my solitude ... Why? Why are we living? Whats the logic? Its so pointless? Live / Breed / Die ... like a cockroach.
"I want to die. No, Im not sad. No logic. No explanation, No tears, No pity. Just a overwhelming ennui. a deep welterschmersz.A paralysing weariness. I cant go on. Not anymore. I have run so hard so long so alone. I am tired now. I want to rest. I cant wait for the show to end. I give up. Ill never catch up. Ill never make it, as big as I wanted to make it. And everything else seems to fade. Whats the use? Whats the point? Endlessly, Futilely, struggling ... on & on forever after. Forever against the tide. And the tide is forever I."- Ray W. Guelph, 1913
shadows of the sun
spent some time deleting mails i had treasured for so long. had this temptation to just go online and clear out whole accounts. its crazy, issnt it? spectres from dark alleys you haved passed through continue to haunt you, even in the warm sunlit corners of ur home. u brush ur shoulders frantically, trying to rid urself of that which u cant really get at. but u cant lose it. what we have lived becomes us. in little bits and pieces. and getting rid becomes an amputation. you lose so much in the bargain. if the cancer has spread, ur left with hardly anything. u become half dead. alone, in the loneliest flat in town, u smooth the floors, and mark ur steps. once in a while u look in the mirror. and maybe wonder if ur still alive?
she reaches out and touches you
quietly in the dark
her cold fingers freeze around your heart
she'll never let you go
you can run wherever you want
but wherever you may run to
She'll be waiting in the dark
you've run away, far from home
left everything you've ever known
and then suddenly,
laughing over coffee
in an ungaurded moment
she'll steal up quietly
and her icy fingers squeeze round your heart
she'll smile as she swallows
your startled gasp of pain
noone will hear
your silent screams will
noone will see
as you freeze into spasms of pain
all that shows is a absence in your eyes
as they gaze far away ...
and noone knows how far it is
as she slowly slips away
and all that golden forgetful laughter
melted in a corner of your eye
as u smilingly make some excuse
some worldly, grownup reason why
they say some wounds never heal
she'll always be right behind
from the other side, i had a wonderful weekend. lunch party, rowing on saturday and french homework after cleaning the house sunday night. chatted with adit, ma, munal and baba. finally made and ate bhutta ka sabji. and looking fwd to a chat with my old friend from the USA who has promised she has interesting news. and tomorrow another week begins!
she reaches out and touches you
quietly in the dark
her cold fingers freeze around your heart
she'll never let you go
you can run wherever you want
but wherever you may run to
She'll be waiting in the dark
you've run away, far from home
left everything you've ever known
and then suddenly,
laughing over coffee
in an ungaurded moment
she'll steal up quietly
and her icy fingers squeeze round your heart
she'll smile as she swallows
your startled gasp of pain
noone will hear
your silent screams will
noone will see
as you freeze into spasms of pain
all that shows is a absence in your eyes
as they gaze far away ...
and noone knows how far it is
as she slowly slips away
and all that golden forgetful laughter
melted in a corner of your eye
as u smilingly make some excuse
some worldly, grownup reason why
they say some wounds never heal
she'll always be right behind
from the other side, i had a wonderful weekend. lunch party, rowing on saturday and french homework after cleaning the house sunday night. chatted with adit, ma, munal and baba. finally made and ate bhutta ka sabji. and looking fwd to a chat with my old friend from the USA who has promised she has interesting news. and tomorrow another week begins!
diwali
huge crackers outside ... makes me miss ... what really? home, kolkata, kabir rd'er baari? juls neeru? staying at kabir rd? a time? a place? for 3 days. crying and talking. once in a while they move from the background to the foreground. the light never goes out. the fire never burns out. heart burn. acidity? :)
do u ever feel like u cant go on? do u ever feel like u cant pretend anymore?
for a long time i have been wanting to write something about what love is
bcz of something i read on my own page - something i wrote long time back ...
and its crap! i learned what love is when i grand father died
and these last few days - crying together on the phone. those 2, i love. and thats it. for now. will try to write about it one day ...
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
With or without you
I can't live
And you give yourself away ...
do u ever feel like u cant go on? do u ever feel like u cant pretend anymore?
for a long time i have been wanting to write something about what love is
bcz of something i read on my own page - something i wrote long time back ...
and its crap! i learned what love is when i grand father died
and these last few days - crying together on the phone. those 2, i love. and thats it. for now. will try to write about it one day ...
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
Through the storm we reach the shore
You give it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you
With or without you
I can't live
And you give yourself away ...
Lullaby
pile of dead babies by the door
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama dont love me anymore
u dont know cz i never told u before
i dreamt i killed her late last night
cz i hate it when she makes my baby cry
cz i hate it when she makes my old man fight
missed her so much i lay down 2 die
pile of dead babies by the door
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama mama, dont be sore
ill be ur slave forever more
i dreamt i saw a great white light
like a halo over where they all lie
i smiled, then i screamed out at the sight
they'd turned into monsters, gleaming eye
mama, mama come back to life
i cant live without u
mama, mama do them all
dont leave me, ill dies without u
pile of dead babies by the door
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama mama, dont be sore
ill be ur slave forever more
daddy, daddy, pls dont cry
we'll all die, bye and bye
mama, mama, lets all die
we'll never survive this wasted life
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama dont love me anymore
u dont know cz i never told u before
i dreamt i killed her late last night
cz i hate it when she makes my baby cry
cz i hate it when she makes my old man fight
missed her so much i lay down 2 die
pile of dead babies by the door
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama mama, dont be sore
ill be ur slave forever more
i dreamt i saw a great white light
like a halo over where they all lie
i smiled, then i screamed out at the sight
they'd turned into monsters, gleaming eye
mama, mama come back to life
i cant live without u
mama, mama do them all
dont leave me, ill dies without u
pile of dead babies by the door
puddle of blood on the kitchen floor
mama mama, dont be sore
ill be ur slave forever more
daddy, daddy, pls dont cry
we'll all die, bye and bye
mama, mama, lets all die
we'll never survive this wasted life
Lullaby II
come my child
ill sing a lullaby
i cant ease ur pain
but i can help you cry
i cant fight for you
but i can run and hide
he who was to show the way
had only a lot of wise words to say
a bedtime tale of fairy kings and queens
smashed sandcastles submarines
never holds firm
and will never drown
wont let you die
and wont let you live
and so the story goes on and on
and so dance all on and on
banished by fear
when u should be near
on nights long ago
i cried like u too
all that u see
i saw too
2 tears
born of the same helpless sigh
2 thorns
born of in the same desert night
2 flames
born to feed on its on bloody guts
2 blackholes
to suck in their whole world
come my child
ill sing u a lullaby
songs of dead lives
of u and i
fairies and kings
with gossamer wings
beautiful, fatal
always enchanting
they pull out ur pity
as they turn in the knife
ill sing a lullaby
i cant ease ur pain
but i can help you cry
i cant fight for you
but i can run and hide
he who was to show the way
had only a lot of wise words to say
a bedtime tale of fairy kings and queens
smashed sandcastles submarines
never holds firm
and will never drown
wont let you die
and wont let you live
and so the story goes on and on
and so dance all on and on
banished by fear
when u should be near
on nights long ago
i cried like u too
all that u see
i saw too
2 tears
born of the same helpless sigh
2 thorns
born of in the same desert night
2 flames
born to feed on its on bloody guts
2 blackholes
to suck in their whole world
come my child
ill sing u a lullaby
songs of dead lives
of u and i
fairies and kings
with gossamer wings
beautiful, fatal
always enchanting
they pull out ur pity
as they turn in the knife
I Spy a Family
there'll be a light in ur eyes
like never otherwise
whenever u look at me
therell be a softness in ur smile
never there otherwise
whenever u smile at me
when im angry,
u'll make me laugh
when i cry,
u'll make me stop
you'll drive me crazy with all i have to do
just in looking after you
taken for granted, tired and happy ...
and then ull look after me too
you'll carry the bags
and find the way
ill cook and clean
and love u everyday
we'll talk for hours
like old friends
we'll be read together
like brother and sister
we'll be so happy
you and me, we'll make a family :)
like never otherwise
whenever u look at me
therell be a softness in ur smile
never there otherwise
whenever u smile at me
when im angry,
u'll make me laugh
when i cry,
u'll make me stop
you'll drive me crazy with all i have to do
just in looking after you
taken for granted, tired and happy ...
and then ull look after me too
you'll carry the bags
and find the way
ill cook and clean
and love u everyday
we'll talk for hours
like old friends
we'll be read together
like brother and sister
we'll be so happy
you and me, we'll make a family :)
baba o' reilly
its a kind of restlessness. a consciousness of something, when ur not
even sure of what. can u feel it in ur bones when the times are changing?
its an inward swirling current. in calm, stillwaters. its the kind of a
calm where you can feel the emptyness like a hollow in ur soul, the
stillness like graveyard
u cant sit still. u cant concentrate. u feel hungry, thirsty, tired all day long.
ur mad at urself & everyone that gets anywhere too near is caught in the
line of fire. im an emotional diabetic at the best of times, but when im irritated,
the sweeter someone is the more it irritates me.
i get flashes in the back of my mind. winter sunshine. the first cool breeze of the year.
the first drop of rain. the smell. my room. my bed. the window. the windchimes. tupi.
roast chicken. the ma-smell. barbs jumping around ... saying aa-aa-aami aami
bolchhilaam ... we both stammer when we r xcited ... ma on the phone, baba leaning
on air, on the floor with dunhill and black label in the air ...
and on my music system ...
Out here in the fields
I fought for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven
even sure of what. can u feel it in ur bones when the times are changing?
its an inward swirling current. in calm, stillwaters. its the kind of a
calm where you can feel the emptyness like a hollow in ur soul, the
stillness like graveyard
u cant sit still. u cant concentrate. u feel hungry, thirsty, tired all day long.
ur mad at urself & everyone that gets anywhere too near is caught in the
line of fire. im an emotional diabetic at the best of times, but when im irritated,
the sweeter someone is the more it irritates me.
i get flashes in the back of my mind. winter sunshine. the first cool breeze of the year.
the first drop of rain. the smell. my room. my bed. the window. the windchimes. tupi.
roast chicken. the ma-smell. barbs jumping around ... saying aa-aa-aami aami
bolchhilaam ... we both stammer when we r xcited ... ma on the phone, baba leaning
on air, on the floor with dunhill and black label in the air ...
and on my music system ...
Out here in the fields
I fought for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven
top 5 things i wanna be if i can be anything
a princess
a classical pianist
a intersate highway truck driver (as already elaborated on in the pick pages)
a mother (8 kids)
a journalist cum writer cum teacher (literature - as in 'old love' by sir archer ;)
a classical pianist
a intersate highway truck driver (as already elaborated on in the pick pages)
a mother (8 kids)
a journalist cum writer cum teacher (literature - as in 'old love' by sir archer ;)
so noone told you life was gonna be this way ...
what a horrible day! i think it brings you bad luck when ur friends r sad and they wont let you help :)
its funny that all day i think of a million things im dying to write about but when i sit here i cant get anything out ...
do u remember when we were kids we were just dying to grow up ...
all i could ever think was that im dying to get a job. be independant. i hated being dependant. even on my parents. i had a bank account and saved money. i walked out and dissapeared everytime someone got mad and said 'get out of here'. big time ego. big time temper. big time loneliness freak ... or so i thought
but now we are all grown up. we live alone. we earn our own money. we send money home. i support the person who was once my whole world ... how nice is it?
no friends. or atleast friends with so many 'buts'. when we were kids, if chatts was down i could poke her and plague her a dig dig dig till she got it out and was ok again. now if a friend is down all u can get in is a polite 'u doing ok'? and then u gotto let go and cross ur fingers.
cant stay at home. cant jump on baba's back (not w/o breaking it). cant throw fits. cant talk without keeping track of what ur syaing and if ur saying too much or if u just said something totally shocking. cant bitch w/o feeling guilty. cant foulmouth. cant sulk. cant cry. cant laugh too loudly. cant bunk work. cant go on holiday ...
cant chat with ur kid sister w/o feeling like u gotto sneak in a sneaky well disguised, well illustrated word of advice. cant tell anyone u wanna burst out crying cz u never know ... they might wanna too and if u start tehy wont and what kind of a friend will that make u? cant tell ur mom ur sick - cz she'll worry. and u feel guilty ... all the time, about everything, for everyone ... life is like one big "im sorry"! everything u do has a reason, has to be thought about before, has to be done keeping everyone and everything in mind
its funny that all day i think of a million things im dying to write about but when i sit here i cant get anything out ...
do u remember when we were kids we were just dying to grow up ...
all i could ever think was that im dying to get a job. be independant. i hated being dependant. even on my parents. i had a bank account and saved money. i walked out and dissapeared everytime someone got mad and said 'get out of here'. big time ego. big time temper. big time loneliness freak ... or so i thought
but now we are all grown up. we live alone. we earn our own money. we send money home. i support the person who was once my whole world ... how nice is it?
no friends. or atleast friends with so many 'buts'. when we were kids, if chatts was down i could poke her and plague her a dig dig dig till she got it out and was ok again. now if a friend is down all u can get in is a polite 'u doing ok'? and then u gotto let go and cross ur fingers.
cant stay at home. cant jump on baba's back (not w/o breaking it). cant throw fits. cant talk without keeping track of what ur syaing and if ur saying too much or if u just said something totally shocking. cant bitch w/o feeling guilty. cant foulmouth. cant sulk. cant cry. cant laugh too loudly. cant bunk work. cant go on holiday ...
cant chat with ur kid sister w/o feeling like u gotto sneak in a sneaky well disguised, well illustrated word of advice. cant tell anyone u wanna burst out crying cz u never know ... they might wanna too and if u start tehy wont and what kind of a friend will that make u? cant tell ur mom ur sick - cz she'll worry. and u feel guilty ... all the time, about everything, for everyone ... life is like one big "im sorry"! everything u do has a reason, has to be thought about before, has to be done keeping everyone and everything in mind