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This one deserves a story. We were planning on going out for the night. It was early, so we decided to go swimming in the hotel pool. There is a bar by the pool, so we decided to have a couple. Our friend here decided to have more than a couple. He wound up not being able to enjoy the nighttime festivities with us.
Afrika - Africa - Kenya - Kenia - Maasai
We bezoeken een traditioneel dorp van de Maasai.
Vers bloed van hun koeien gemengd met melk is een geliefkoosde en versterkende drank. In deze reeks foto's zien we hoe een koe wordt vastgegrepen voor het aftappen van bloed. De koe zelf heeft er weinig hinder van. De jonge mannen voelen zich stoer na het drinken van het bloed.
The Maasai (also Masai) are a Nilotic ethnic group of semi-nomadic people located in Kenya and northern Tanzania. Due to their distinctive customs and dress and residence near the many game parks of East Africa, they are among the most well known of African ethnic groups.
Traditionally, the Maasai diet consisted of meat, milk, and blood from cattle.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people
De Masaï, Massai of Maasai is de naam die wordt gegeven aan een grotendeels nomadisch volk in Oost-Afrika, voornamelijk woonachtig in Kenia en Tanzania. De Masaï slaagden er in om, ondanks de groeiende moderne civilisatie, hun eeuwenoude tradities te bewaren. Door verschillende oorzaken, zoals de afname van weidegrond voor hun vee en droogte, staat deze traditionele leefwijze sterk onder druk. De totale populatie van de Masaï wordt geschat op 900.000, zo'n 350.000 tot 453.000 hiervan leven in Kenia.
Masaï eten bijna alleen maar vlees. Ze eten het vlees van koeien, geiten en schapen. Ze eten geen wilde dieren, vis of kip. Vroeger aten ze nauwelijks producten van de landbouw, zoals maïs. Nu eten ze 's ochtends pap van maïsmeel. Ze eten niet veel groente en fruit. Toch zijn ze gezond. In de droge tijd, als de koeien weinig melk geven, drinken ze ook wel eens bloed van koeien. Het "laten bloeden van een koe" doen ze volgens traditie. Ze zoeken een gezonde koe uit de kudde. Ze binden de hals af met een riem. Dan schiet de eigenaar van de koe met pijl en boog in de hals van het dier. Ze vangen het bloed op in een kalebas. Als er ongeveer een halve liter in zit knijpen ze de wond even dicht, om het bloeden te laten stoppen en dan mag de koe weer bij de kudde. Een koe heeft er geen last van als deze een halve liter bloed verliest. Ze letten er wel op dat die koe niet nog een keer hoeft te bloeden in ongeveer vier weken. Ze doen melk bij het bloed en drinken het op. Masaï houden van zoete dingen. Zoete thee betekent: welkom, en: het gaat mij goed. De melk lengen ze aan met de urine van koeien om verzuring door slechte bacterien tegen te gaan. Ze verzamelen ook honing van grondbijen. Die zijn veel kleiner dan gewone bijen en ze steken niet. Hun honing zit ongeveer een meter diep in de grond. De honing wordt heel voorzichtig door de mannen opgegraven.
Warren Tavern reports itself to be the oldest tavern in Massachusetts and to have been visited by George Washington and Paul Revere among others. The building was constructed in 1780 during the American Revolution. Located in the Charlestown neighborhood north of the Charles River in view of Bunker Hill (the monument in the background).
Afrika - Africa - Kenya - Kenia - Maasai
We bezoeken een traditioneel dorp van de Maasai.
Vers bloed van hun koeien gemengd met melk is een geliefkoosde en versterkende drank. In deze reeks foto's zien we hoe een koe wordt vastgegrepen voor het aftappen van bloed. De koe zelf heeft er weinig hinder van. De jonge mannen voelen zich stoer na het drinken van het bloed.
The Maasai (also Masai) are a Nilotic ethnic group of semi-nomadic people located in Kenya and northern Tanzania. Due to their distinctive customs and dress and residence near the many game parks of East Africa, they are among the most well known of African ethnic groups.
Traditionally, the Maasai diet consisted of meat, milk, and blood from cattle.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maasai_people
De Masaï, Massai of Maasai is de naam die wordt gegeven aan een grotendeels nomadisch volk in Oost-Afrika, voornamelijk woonachtig in Kenia en Tanzania. De Masaï slaagden er in om, ondanks de groeiende moderne civilisatie, hun eeuwenoude tradities te bewaren. Door verschillende oorzaken, zoals de afname van weidegrond voor hun vee en droogte, staat deze traditionele leefwijze sterk onder druk. De totale populatie van de Masaï wordt geschat op 900.000, zo'n 350.000 tot 453.000 hiervan leven in Kenia.
Masaï eten bijna alleen maar vlees. Ze eten het vlees van koeien, geiten en schapen. Ze eten geen wilde dieren, vis of kip. Vroeger aten ze nauwelijks producten van de landbouw, zoals maïs. Nu eten ze 's ochtends pap van maïsmeel. Ze eten niet veel groente en fruit. Toch zijn ze gezond. In de droge tijd, als de koeien weinig melk geven, drinken ze ook wel eens bloed van koeien. Het "laten bloeden van een koe" doen ze volgens traditie. Ze zoeken een gezonde koe uit de kudde. Ze binden de hals af met een riem. Dan schiet de eigenaar van de koe met pijl en boog in de hals van het dier. Ze vangen het bloed op in een kalebas. Als er ongeveer een halve liter in zit knijpen ze de wond even dicht, om het bloeden te laten stoppen en dan mag de koe weer bij de kudde. Een koe heeft er geen last van als deze een halve liter bloed verliest. Ze letten er wel op dat die koe niet nog een keer hoeft te bloeden in ongeveer vier weken. Ze doen melk bij het bloed en drinken het op. Masaï houden van zoete dingen. Zoete thee betekent: welkom, en: het gaat mij goed. De melk lengen ze aan met de urine van koeien om verzuring door slechte bacterien tegen te gaan. Ze verzamelen ook honing van grondbijen. Die zijn veel kleiner dan gewone bijen en ze steken niet. Hun honing zit ongeveer een meter diep in de grond. De honing wordt heel voorzichtig door de mannen opgegraven.
台南市西門路 - 淺草青春新天地 / 簡單的座位 - 喝杯茶聊個天
The West gate road of the Tainan City - Shallow grass youth new world / Simple seat - Drank cup of tea and chat
El camino de puerta del oeste de la ciudad de Tainan - El nuevo mundo de la juventud baja de la hierba / Simple asiento - bebió una taza de té y chat
台南市の西のゲート道 - 浅い草の青春の新天地 / 簡単な席 - 杯を飲むお茶はチャットします
Die Westgatterstraße der Tainan-Stadt - Neue Welt der flachen Grasjugend / Einfache Sitz - Drank Tasse Tee und Chat
La porte route de l'Ouest de la ville de Tainan - Les jeunes de l'herbe Shallow nouvelle maltose monde / Selle simple - Drank tasse de thé et le chat
Tainan Taiwan / Tainan Taiwán / 台灣台南
管樂小集 2015/07/11 安平古堡 Fort Zeelandia performances
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家住安南鹽溪邊
The family lives in nearby the Annan salt river
隔壁就是聽雨軒
The next door listens to the rain porch
一旦落日照大員
The sunset Shineing to the Taiwan at once
左岸青龍飛九天
The left bank white dragon flying in the sky
i like to paint monsters and ride dragons.
let me know what you think.
thanks for checking my art out.
Live action Carl (Dave Long Jr.) ate chicken and drank beer on the stage most of the show. Meanwhile, Dana and Dave perform a segment of questions for Frylock, as Carey Means was not present for the tour. They basically had a clip of Carey Means on a toilet saying "Yes". Dana rephrased the "Questions For Frylock" so that they were correctly phrased so as to be answered by "Yes". Thus, the "Questions For Frylock" segment successfully allowed the audience to ask Frylock questions even though the actor who played him was not present.
Dana Snyder, Dave, Dave Willis, Carl Brutananadilewski.
eating.
AdultSwim. Cartoon Network.
State Theater, Falls Church, Virginia.
May 13, 2010.
... Read my blog at ClintJCL.wordpress.com
BACKSTORY: Aqua Teen Hunger Force the AdultSwim cartoon had a live show tour! This is our 2nd AdultSwim cartoon that we've seen live, after having seen Dethklok from Metalocalypse play at 2 concerts.
Other reviews of Aqua Teen Live:
igottarambleon.wordpress.com/2010/05/15/aqua-steam-cleani...
blogs.laweekly.com/stylecouncil/nerdy-in-la/aqua-teen-hun...
This is not my photograph. I am putting it here as a memory stimulator. Though I worked at the 'Liverpool Playhouse' whilst studying art on Hope Street, many evenings we drank, when we found ourselves flush, with the 'Everyman' folk after the curtain came down, at the 'Grapes', an after-hours venue for exhausted 'luvvies' and front-of-house staff (my role).
Further musings on 'Sins of Thought'
I guffawed slightly at the idea of you sitting in that ‘Nun’s Graveyard’, and even at the idea of such a thing existing, that repository for the eternally untouched, the pristine and the holy, the female ‘reduced’ to her unbroken ‘best’, those harridans of the ‘Magdelene Laundries’ of their world-weary world. Of course, it would be named ‘The Holy Cross Hospital’, the adjunct seat of largesse attached to this graveyard. I am afraid I find it very hard to be charitable about nuns, those sisters of charity. I have seen their work firsthand and close-up.
Strangely, it put me in mind of Sorcha’s boarding school, the name of which was ‘The Cross and Passion Convent’ somewhere in Ireland’s hinterland. The name stuck with me. You know the story of Sorcha, and her having the baby in Liverpool and us putting it up for adoption. Anyway, our correspondence, Sorcha's and mine, began when we were both around 16 years old. It was really my first foray into letter-writing, that correspondence, and I would write to her perhaps twice weekly, at ‘Cross and Passion College’. Or rather we would write to each other. These were no ordinary letters, they weren’t love letters or attempts to seduce, they were just two young people communicating their fears and hopes. The strangest thing is that they would then run to 30 or 40 pages each of hand-written ‘earnestness’. So there it was, this outpouring (graphomania?) of unfiltered attempts to communicate and understand each other.
Obviously, some understanding was reached, so that at the age of 18, when Sorcha found herself pregnant by a local, heavy drinking, rugby player (that’s all I remember about him, he was very much the ‘anti-me’, so that stood out in my imaginings), she knew she could turn to me, and she did.
We had generated trust through sharing in this frenzied writing. There was always a slightly repressed guffaw there for me in the addressing of the envelopes to her, that ‘Cross and Passion’ idea. The very idea of passion was just about emerging for us. It manifested as a passion for writing, art, and communication, though sex was still very much there in the background, perhaps more obviously for Sorcha, but for me too as I struggled with dealing with an earlier 2 years of avuncular sexual abuse. But this was never discussed in these letters. I just googled ‘The Cross and Passion College’ to facilitate my wobbly grey matter, to find its location, Co. Kildare as it happens (which I did remember). I see it became a co-educational school in 1986, long after Sorcha had departed to deal with her ‘shame’. But we dealt with that together in Liverpool, and eventually with the help of the ‘British Pregnancy Advisory Service’, we gave Sorcha’s baby away. The sisters of the ‘Cross and Passion’ had worked their dreary judgmental magic yet again, and clean slates were maintained. Sorcha’s parents never had to deal with the ‘shame’. Two young, and shocked, feverish letter writers took care of that.
So, there’s a sort of reverie generated by your looking for a bench to sit on in the nun’s graveyard.
There was never any acknowledgement of Sorcha’s condition by her family, but I would guess they knew. Sorcha came from the ‘posh’ side of the village. Her father was very high up in the Irish army, near the top of that masculine pile, even. I was not what they would have hoped for relative to being a possible suitor for their convent-educated daughter, this was obvious. But they had nothing to worry about there anyway.
There was never any acknowledgement of what happened. Sorcha joined me in Liverpool and shared my one-room bedsit for those three trimesters, on the understanding that she had taken up the offer of a one-year job there. This was, of course, all our fiction. The only indication we ever had of some sort of acknowledgement was that her father, perhaps six months into the pregnancy, sent Sorcha a group of 4 or 5, supposedly rare, stamps, which he thought she could sell if she needed money.
When Sorcha returned, I never saw or heard from her family again, and sadly almost never heard from Sorcha again (until 30 years later). I understood, to a degree, I had been part of this awful shame generated by these terrible harridans with their cross and passion.
There was a scurrilous put-down we would use as children, children are so unabashedly cruel, where a girl who was not considered attractive would be called ‘a wagon’. It’s an awful derogatory slur, but all part of that ‘innocent cruelty’ of childhood. A nun was known, by extension, as ‘a covered wagon’, and a group of nuns was called ‘a wagon train’. These groups were common in childhood, these religious extremists wimpling through the village, these sisters of mercy in a flurry of censorial black and white. I still love the inventiveness of that last slur, that wagon train. It brings out the sympathetic American Indian in me.
I still baulk at nuns, I even feel it, now, in the pit of my stomach as I type this. As I said earlier to you, I am just grateful that I never became a mass-murderer, or scalper of bewimpled nuns, even. This in itself might be described as tantamount to miraculous. I feel that I might have been saved by this mania to describe, which had seen an early manifestation in these 30-page letters to Sorcha in her 'Cross and Passion' isolation.
Two of the lovely thespians in this photograph drove Sorcha and me to London for a break. It was Sorcha's first visit to London, 8 months pregnant and almost fit to burst. They would, of course, not remember us, except perhaps as this timid pair of Irish miscreants, having fallen on desperate times and in 'the family way'. They were Julie, in the centre here, and her then boyfriend Peter, on the extreme left. Mr. Postlethwaite is since sadly departed. Peter and Julie Walters were attending an 'Actor's Equity' rally in London, a type of demonstration, if I recall rightly. I remember that Vanessa Redgrave was to be there rallying the troops. They were both charming, and caring, totally belying that scurrilous putdown 'luvvies'. The wonderful thing about the 'Everyman', and the 'Playhouse' for that matter, in those days, was that they were not bastions of privilege then, actors were not, exclusively, culled from the elite, which seems to be, more or less, the case now.
That 'golden age', of free education for all, does seem to be, sadly, well and truly over. This can only be universally impoverishing.
He drank wine all night of the
28th, and he kept thinking of her:
the way she walked and talked and loved
the way she told him things that seemed true
but were not, and he knew the color of each
of her dresses
and her shoes-he knew the stock and curve of
each heel
as well as the leg shaped by it.
and she was out again and when he came home,and
she'd come back with that special stink again,
and she did
she came in at 3 a.m in the morning
filthy like a dung eating swine
and
he took out a butchers knife
and she screamed
backing into the rooming house wall
still pretty somehow
in spite of love's reek
and he finished the glass of wine.
that yellow dress
his favorite
and she screamed again.
and he took up the knife
and unhooked his belt
and tore away the cloth before her
and cut off his balls.
and carried them in his hands
like apricots
and flushed them down the
toilet bowl
and she kept screaming
as the room became red
GOD O GOD!
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?
and he sat there holding 3 towels
between his legs
no caring now whether she left or
stayed
wore yellow or green or
anything at all.
and one hand holding and one hand
lifting he poured
another wine
Freedom
Charles Bukowski
Siracusa, Sicilia
Siracusa (Syracuse) is an ancient city on the eastern coast of Sicily. My girlfriend, Ting, and I were invited here to attend the wedding of Ting's sister to a fantastic Siracusan, Christian Mirabella. This was our second trip to Siracusa; last year, we had stopped through for a few days to help with some wedding planning (and, of course, to eat, drink, and be merry).
We met interesting locals and friends of the family, and generally had a good time. Although any wedding can be stressful, and international, huge affairs even more so, this was just too fantastic to be even close to diminished by any one (or collection of ) hiccups.
A Methusaleh each of Taittinger Brut and Domaine LeFlaive "Les Folatieres" Puligney-Montrachet, 2006.
A magnum each of William Selyem Pinot Noir, 1995 and Chappellet Cabernet Sauvignon, 1976.
Monterey Peninsula Winery, Ferrero Ranch, Amador Zinfandel, 1976
Chappellet Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley, 1976
Domaine Henry Lamarche, Vosne-Romaenée, 1976.
(For the chefs' welcome dinner for Gourmet Fest)
Luca
Carmel-By-The-Sea, California
(February 25, 2016)
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