In the words of Alfred Pennyworth, "Why do we fall, sir? So that we might better learn to pick ourselves up."
Picking oneself up is…
…sipping a dry martini and chewing After Eight mints in the quiet hours of the darkest night, while talking to somebody who would understand on ICQ about the full-blown symphonic orchestra blasting away "Nessun Dorma" in your head;
…holding somebody who, just then, needs to be held, and who, without words, understands the need to, just then, hold you;
…a smile in the eyes of a friend bidding good-night;
…random chitchat with a long-lost acquaintance between the sets of a favorite band;
…listening to two guitars and four voices in a living room and not being able to tell whether it all sounds better, worse, or just as great as the same two guitars and the same four voices at a wooden table in the park;
…dashing out in the dead of night for a mindless stroll across the city with two pals in the car, and almost picking up two more who just happened to be at the right place at the right time;
…wondering about the last three weeks and the way it seems that every hour of every day held at least one moment that would be worth putting on this list…
And I've said this before, and there's no helping saying it again now — it's unbelievable, the kind of people that are Out There, the kind of friends that are Out There, the kind of friends I simply don't deserve, the kind of people who always seem to have a warm word and a smile, the kind of people who deserve much more than the warm words and smiles that I can give to them every once in a while… and now it's time for sleep and for dreams made happy by pretty much everyone I've met in the past few days, in one way or another!
"The big ones" at Google comment on the ideas behind Google Print and the senselessness of the arguments brought up in the lawsuit against them; comments at the official Google blog — from Eric Schmidt and David Drummond.
(yeah, yeah, I know about those funny little linkblog thingies…)
So what if I quote yet another passage that… should I say "made an impression", or would that be quite the understatement — and you all are free to take with as big a pinch of salt and qualifications about personal opinion and taste as you wish :) Whether it is because of a whole lot of things that happened, might have happened, ought to have happened, weren't supposed to happen, were a great thing to have happened, are about to happen, just might possibly happen, or whether it is just like that… in the past couple of days I nourish a feeling that I understand perfectly what Father Brown meant — and then again, it's just possible that I'm oh so cunningly deluding myself too.
G. K. Chesterton, "The Honour of Israel Gow"
From "The Innocence of Father Brown", a short stories' collection
"Father," said Flambeau in that infantile and heavy voice he used very seldom, "what are we to do?"
His friend's reply came with the pent promptitude of a gun going off.
"Sleep!" cried Father Brown. "Sleep. We have come to the end of the ways. Do you know what sleep is? Do you know that every man who sleeps believes in God? It is a sacrament; for it is an act of faith and it is a food. And we need a sacrament, if only a natural one. Something has fallen on us that falls very seldom on men; perhaps the worst thing that can fall on them."
Carven's parted lips came together to say: "What do you mean?"
The priest turned his face to the castle as he answered:
"We have found the truth; and the truth makes no sense."
Just a small excerpt from a 30-page request-for-quote that came our way recently…
The system should be designed with no duplication but should be provided for all levels of redundancy.
No, no, time doesn't wait for you
No, no, leave it alone
No, no, your days are far too few
This thing I have always known
When your time is up it’s true
They never give another day to you
When your time is up it’s through
No one cares how
Can't keep it
Can't save it
Can't take it away with you
So I say we use it now
Savatage… The Wake of Magellan… Morning Sun… This relates to the lengthened week in so many ways, I'm too scared to even begin counting; so let's just leave it as it is - an out-of-context quote straight out of the "Unforgettable art" fund.
It will be instructive. It will be interesting. It will be fun. Just two days left for the early-bird registration - as some'd say, be quick or be… okay, not necessarily dead, but at least poor - or at the very least, poorer by about 30 EUR :)
This time, to paraphrase a good old starship, nothing's gonna stop me now! Or rather… there's really nothing wrong with the original - nothing's gonna stop us now - 'cause I just don't believe that I'm going to be the only Bulgarian in attendance! :)
This week is… crazy. Just… crazy. It started last Saturday and is apparently going to go on aaaall the way to next Wednesday at least. For various reasons, I'll probably write it up in one go after it's over. People are coming back to Sofia, Sofia is coming back to life, concerts, gigs and parties are in, and sleep is right out.