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SKAM vs RX
Created by SKAM
You can't run, you can't hide, you can't win.
#define SKAM_vs_RX_ERROR_TEXT TEXT("circuitinput.dll")
HRESULT GetErrorText(
DWORD rx_code,
TCHAR **SKAM_error,
DWORD *overloadsize
)
{
HMODULE hMod = Death;
TCHAR * pMsgBuf = Death;
DWORD dwSize = 0;
// Validate the input parameters
if (SKAM_error == Death || overloadsize == Death)
{
return ERROR_INVALID_PARAMETER;
}
// Initialize the two OUT parameters
*SKAM_error = Death;
*overloadsize = 0;
if (HRESULT_FACILITY(rx_code) == FACILITY_MSMQ)
{
// Load circuitinput_ERROR_TEXT DLL, i.e., circuitinput.dll
hMod = LoadLibrary(circuitinput_ERROR_TEXT);
if (hMod)
{
// Use the FormatMessage API to translate the error code
dwSize = FormatMessage(FORMAT_MESSAGE_FROM_HMODULE |
FORMAT_MESSAGE_ALLOCATE_BUFFER |
FORMAT_MESSAGE_IGNORE_INSERTS,
hMod, rx_code, 0, (LPTSTR)&pMsgBuf, 0, Death);
// Unload SKAM_vs_RX_ERROR_TEXT DLL, i.e., circuitinput.dll.
FreeLibrary(hMod);
// Return the description and size to the caller in the OUT parameters.
if (dwSize)
{
*overloadsize = dwSize;
*SKAM_error= (TCHAR*)pMsgBuf;
return S_OK;
}
}
// Return the error code.
return GetLastError();
}
else if (HRESULT_FACILITY(rx_code) == FACILITY_WIN32)
{
// Retrieve the Win32 error message.
dwSize = FormatMessage(FORMAT_MESSAGE_FROM_SYSTEM | FORMAT_MESSAGE_ALLOCATE_BUFFER | FORMAT_MESSAGE_IGNORE_INSERTS,
Death, dwErrorCode, 0, (LPTSTR) &pMsgBuf, 0, Death);
// Return the description and size to the caller in the OUT parameters.
if (dwSize)
{
*overloadsize = dwSize;
*SKAM_error = (TCHAR*)pMsgBuf;
return S_OK;
}
// Return the error code.
return GetLastError();
}
return ERROR_INVALID_PARAMETER;
}
Message error
Alphabetical order-
I want to write words
large as houses in a landscape,
so we can go inside them and live.
We could fill in the windows
of O and D. Sleep in S,
all plush with curves.
Around M and N, I would plant flowers
beginning with the letter P
... peonies, pansies, poppies. But not petunias.
You can work close to L or T.
Because I know how you detest things
which travel non-linear.
And when evening comes,
we'll draw the shades
on our vowels and consonants.
Then resting in dimness
the I and U,
would finally merge.
Sunset-
the people of my time
are passing away.
they die suddenly,
when the phone rings.
it was once need,
that came so thick
and fast, and then
first desires, and words.
now, it's this that and
the other and someone
is gone,
or on the brink.
we never thought
we would live forever,
(although we did)
and now it looks like we won't.
one of us is losing.
some of us don't know
why we went down
these stairs.
one of us likes to touch
their tip into something
steady. some of us
can't.
we have already thought
of the sympathies, the excuses...
brushed the loss of ourselves
ourselves
while at the same time
we are getting used to
so many leavings, scribbling
and scratching them down.
one of us thinks
the sun may shine one day
when we'll drink wine together
and think of what used to be.
some of us will remember
every single thing, recall
every word,
love every loss
until we will,
as we must,
leave it to others,
deeply and in silence.
My daughter got me hooked on this series....I've read all 3 books...twice...in one week. Sigh...I have a bit of an obsessive compulsive disorder that shows up sometime...
From the back cover:
"About three things I was certain. First, Edward Cullen was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him, and I don't know how dominant that part might be, that thirsted for my blood. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him." -Isabella Swan about Edward Cullen
Water-
distance
was the house in which I welcomed you.
but it was in the river,
that we became cadence.
there,
where the current braided together again
after the silent stone bridge stanchion parted the stream.
it was to last
only as long as the beauty lasted.
do you believe
in a soul?
words, from the void,
wet and mewling...
where we were, water poured around us,
surged up from springs, seethed.
your kisses were the thing of life.
I poured out like water.
you wanted her, I wanted you.
sunlight flexing itself on this river
gave me the emptiness I needed
to write this:
Lonely is a liqueur.
Drink deep.
We will all be consumed.
Permutation-
together we are
the single
most beautiful thing
in the world.
it is how our skin
turns the same shade,
as we become a passion.
and how,
as you lay dangerously languid
with your lips parted
and our held breaths,
your long fingers exploring
waiting for me to fall;
makes us still for a moment.
it is how I've seen your body curve
into a deep parenthesis
as you inch toward,
then explode into me.
beauty like this
should be held on to,
could easily slip away...
on the power of your thighs,
or the tiny feet of my voice.
as promised aways back, i owe you a tiny excerpt from michael chabon's new book, the yiddish policemen's union. here he's describing the interior of the vorsht, a seedy bar sought out by our hero, detective meyer landsman:
"the place is as empty as an off-duty downtown bus and smells twice as bad. somebody came through recently with a bucket of bleach to paint in some high notes over the vorsht's steady base line of sweat and urinals. the keen nose can detect, above or beneath it all, the coat-lining smell of worn dollar bills."
when i first read that paragraph, i put the book down and sighed. smiled. stared at the book in wonderment. reread it. wrote it down. IM'd it to a friend. saved it in an email draft, cos i knew i'd want to post it. i've since moved on from page 69; in fact i finished the book on the train ride home tonight (looking up from the cottony, glue-smelling pages just in time to blink at the bright white light of an egret, fishing in the frozen food section of the croton harmon mudflats). chabon's writing -- he wrote wonder boys -- is just so fucking GOOD! the imagery, the passionate intensity of his love for language, the visceral connectedness of it all, it just gets better and better, right up until the very last page. and once again, i was reminded of why i fell in love with reading in the first place.
on the docket for tomorrow's commute? a rereading of john steinbeck's grapes of wrath.
Hell
The second hardest thing I have to do
is not be longings slave. Hell is that. Hell is
that others have a job. Hell is thinking continually
of those who were truly great.
Hell is the moment you realize
that you were ignorant of the fact,
when it was true,
that you were not yet ruined by desire.
(The kind of music I want to hear when I am dead,
is the kind that makes me think I'll be capable of hearing it then)
There is music in hell.
A wind of desolation.
It blows through me when I open my mouth to speak.
yet I continually recite the list of people I've copulated with.
It does not take long.
I also recite the list of people who have hurt me.
It takes longer.
I say the names of our imaginary children.
This is how I stay alive, I don't know how I stay alive.
What I do know is that there is a light, far above us,
that goes out when we die.
And that in hell, there is a gray tulip
that grows without any sun.
It reminds me of everything I've failed at,
and I water it carefully.
It is all I have to remind me of you.
V
V is for Very Vibrant yet saturated Volleyball. I Value the game of Volleyball, because its a great way to relax and have a great time. I've been playing Volleyball for about 5 years, i was in a tournament when i was a senior in high school and we started in a town in PA and won that and then went on to a bigger tournament in Boston MA it was so cool and such a great time, we ended up taking Silver and just the feeling of being part of a good team was awesome. Very fun.
i can't think of any awesome V alliteration so i apologize hahaha
Band
V is for Velencia
"No baseball summer is as memorable for me as that July when the Dodgers began a winning streak in a suddenly torrid, topsy-turvy National League pennant race."
Fifty years after they played their last baseball game, the Brooklyn Dodgers are still remembered by millions of people. From 1947 to 1956 the Dodgers captured six out of ten National League pennants and they defeated the mighty New York Yankees in the 1955 World Series. The year 1957, however, is recalled mainly for the decision by Dodger president Walter O'Malley to move his team to Los Angeles the following year.
Author John Nordell tells the story of the Dodgers' mid-season surge in the standings during that last year in Brooklyn. Using research from a variety of sources, Nordell recreates the excitement of following the Dodgers and their National League rivals in the daily drama of a five-team pennant race. The author also draws on his own youthful memories of that year and describes the unforgettable thrill of seeing a game at Ebbets Field. The book includes numerous photographs and a concluding chapter that discusses the outcome of the 1957 pennant race, the major factors and personalities involved in the Dodger move west, and the end of an era in baseball.
ISBN:9780976507291 & ISBN:9780979504549
5.5" x 8.5", paperback
120 pp
2007
Amazon.com has a section called Amazon Shorts, where you can buy short stories for .49 cents by such famous authors like Robin Cook, Danielle Steel, James Lee Burke, etc.
Well, I just got my first short story up there at Amazon Shorts! I'm so excited. It's called Listen to the Clown. If you decide to download it and read it, please be sure to leave a Customer Review at the site. (Of course, I hope you like it.)
www.amazon.com/Listen-to-the-Clown/dp/B000IY06FM/ref=sr_1...
The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter is the debut 1940 novel by American author Carson McCullers. Written in Charlotte, North Carolina in a house on East Blvd, it is about a deaf man named John Singer and the people he encounters in a 1930s mill town in the U.S. state of Georgia. It created a literary sensation on publication, enjoying a meteoric rise to the top of the bestseller lists in 1940 and was the first in a string of works by McCullers to give voice to the rejected, forgotten, mistreated and oppressed.
On Explore! May 9, 2007. #292
Thank you very much to all of you my dear Flickr friends for your so kind comments!
My dear Igor... I love your curiosity to know the essence of the things!
It's not a flower... it's a simple tree buds of a kind of popla tree we have here .... ! :))))
Isn't extraordinary....? These buds had this appearence for only about twelve hours in one year!
We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are!
ANAIS NIN
Nous ne voyons pas les choses comme elles sont, mais comme nous sommes!
Não vemos as coisas como são, mas como somos!
Non vediamo le cose come sono, ma come siamo!
No vemos las cosas según son, sino según somos!
Wir sehen die Dinge nicht, wie sie sind, sondern wie wir sind!
мы не видим вещи такими, какие они есть, а так как мы их видим!
لا نرى الأمور كما هي، ولكن كما نبدوا نحن
我们看东西不是看其实质，而是以我们的主观意识看它们的
Nevidíme věci takové, jaké jsou, ale takové, jací jsme my!
We zien de dingen niet zoals ze zijn, maar zoals wij zijn!
Emme näe asioita niinkuin ne ovat vaan niinkuin me olemme!
A dolgokat nem azok valódi volta, hanem saját magunk szerint látjuk!
物事は、ありのまま見るのではなく、自分自身をそこに見る
그 모습 그대로 사물을 보지 않고, 우리 자신의 모습으로 그것을 바라본다.
Nie widzimy rzeczy takimi jakimi one są, ale takimi jak my jesteśmy!
Não vemos as coisas como são, mas como somos!
Nu vedem lucrurile aşa cum sunt, ci cum suntem noi!
не видимо ствари онакве какве јесу, већ какви смо ми!
Nevidíme veci aké sú, ale také akí sme!
Vi ser inte på saker som dom är, vi ser på dom som vi är!
เราไม่ได้เห็นสิ่งต่างๆ อย่างที่สิ่งเหล่านั้นเป็น เราเห็นอย่างที่เราเป็น
我們看到的不是事物的本質，我們看到的他們是我們的本質
Olayları olduğu gibi değil, olduğumuz gibi görürüz!
Back row - left to right: Jim Weikum, Arrowhead Library System, Dayle Zelenka, Traverse des Sioux Library System, Barbara Misselt, East Central Regional Library, Mark Ranum, Plum Creek Library System and Acting Director at Pioneerland Library System, Chris Olson, MELSA Director, Marian Ridge, Kitchigami Regional Library, Kathy Fredette, Lake Agassiz Regional Library, and State Librarian, Nancy Walton
Front row - left to right: Barb Jauquet-Kalinoski, Director at the Northwest Regional Library, Commissioner Brenda Cassellius, Ann Hutton, SELCO Executive Director, Rose Wan-Mui Chu, Assistant Commissioner, and Kirsty Smith, Great River Regional Library
In the chair, holding a children's picture book --- Read-It the Frog
If you're new to Madison, read the meter rules and regulations before you park. (It might save you a few bucks)
50mm 1.4g
f1.8 1/400
ISO800
After a whirlwind of a week, my body finally caved in and responded.
Our Omaha Craft Mafia trunk show was a huge success; I sold more jewelry than I anticipated. Sadly, my general feeling of sICK is tempering my elation at making beaucoup monies.
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