Journal Entries
42
Posted Jul 29, 2005
My solution, which I think looks quite harmonious and logical, for 42 is: 22 + 22 - 2 = 42
but, of course, it could also be: 20 + 20 + 2 = 42
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Latest reply: Jul 29, 2005
The Restaurant at the end of the universe
Posted Jul 8, 2005
by Douglas Adams, of course - and I am quoting here from chapter 10:
"The Universe, as has been observed before, is an unsettling big place, a fact which for the sake of a quiet life most people tend to ignore. Many would happily move to somewhere rather smaller of their own devising, and this is what most beings in fact do".
This is so perceptive, also the next paragraph in the book, that I think it applies to what happened in London today for which I want to express my deep sorrow. The universe is an unsettling big place and there are people in it who we will never understand because they do not seem human at all.
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Latest reply: Jul 8, 2005
Learning...
Posted Jul 3, 2005
Well, I now know what a miner does, what the Underguide is, how all this here started and lots more. I am reading Douglas Adams' first three books plus how the film finally got on its way. And there is the wonderful news that my "Presence of love", subtitled "Death of a husband" got chosen for the Underguide. Meanwhile I'll keep on copying my other stories and enjoy the cooler temperatures of this rainy season. Yesterday I was able to put on a light pullover with long sleeves without melting away in it and that was the first time since I had been in Brasilia last June. So, everything is just fine right now.
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Latest reply: Jul 3, 2005
My stories
Posted Jun 28, 2005
June, 27, 2005
I have finally started copying my stories for this site. I am doing the shorter ones first. When I kicked the "Old Poems" over to Guide Entries, I noticed at the very last moment, just before they flashed away before my eyes, that there had been five answers to them which I never read. Now they are gone and I cannot find them again. Have they dissappeared from the face of space altogehter or are they ghosting around somewhere lost and without answers? If you, who have written me and did not get an answer would like me to write back to you, please write again because I do not even know who you are. Sorry! I often act first and think later.
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Latest reply: Jun 28, 2005
Daily Exercise
Posted Jun 7, 2005
Daily Exercise
Off for my daily walk, I go up the long, straight road to reach the beachfront. The road is strewn with rubbisch; garbage bins are overturned and spill their foul smelling contents over the sidewalks. Filthy dogs roam the street. They walk indifferently around open sewage holes. Cars drive by noisily, avoiding the potholes and giving the impression of drunk driving. They honk their horns frequently. An old car with two huge loudspeakers tied to its roof passes slowly announcing over and over: “Vote for.... He is the best for the city!” This is supposed to make people want to give their votes to this candidate.
Three very young girls in tight little shorts walk in front of me swinging their behinds voluptiously. Their eyes dart at every passing car and they do not stop shrieking and laughing.
When I get to the top of the road, I have difficulty crossing the main road. Traffic is intense and only some cars obey the traffic lights. I take risks and reach the beach. There is little traffic here. A strong wind comes from in front of me and I breathe in deeply.
Many poeple walk along the beachfront at this hour in the late afternoon. Some couples sit in parked cars and neck. All the car radios are blaring as this is a nation of music- loving-people.
Five boys overtake me. Their ages range from about six to twelve. They are barefoot and their shirts and shorts are grey and shabby. They talk in loud voices to each other and their busy eyes see everything. They quickly look me up and down as they pass, their expressions totally detached. They pick up little stones and start throwing them at passing cars. Some cars slow down after being hit. The drivers lean out and scream angrily at the boys. Another small stone hits a car. It is a new car of a lovely shiny green. I hear the sharp crack of a shot and see a hand with a gun in it move quickly back into the car. They boys laugh excitedly and run in several directions. The car accelerates, passes me and disappears.
The boys get back together, heads turning around all the time now, alert. On the other side of the road a drunken man is walking slowly, counting some paper money in his hands. The boys drift over casually and circle him. The drunk stops and looks at the boys. The boys drift back to the other side in one well rehearsed movement and as casually as before. They continue ahead of me as if nothing has interrupted their progress so far. On the left there is a continuous line of concrete benches. People straddle them, sit and lie on them. Two boys jump up on the benches and walk on them, stepping behind and over the people. Some people yell obscenities at the boys. The boys laugh derisively in answer. One old man is still muttering in exasperation as I pass by him.
Some distance ahead of me a big car draws up to the curb. A young man jumps out. He takes a folding plastic table and two chairs from the back of the car and arranges them on the sidewalk. A girl gets out on the other side of the car and sits in one of the chairs. The young man puts drinks on the table, turns the volume of the radio up and sits down in the other chair. As I pass them, they are smiling happily at each other. Opposite, in front of some houses facing the sea, there is a sign saying: “Residential area, please do not play your car radios loudly here.”
A motorbike races towards me on the sidewalk and I quickly step down onto the road to avoid getting hit. I can hear some of the people complain about the driver being up here among the pedestrians and small children.
An empty garbage truck passes by. It is Friday today, pay day. The truck is loaded with some twenty men in orange shirts and trousers standing up on it. They shout and hoot shrilly in their unquenchable exuberance. Some loitering men on the sidewalk gesture wildly and shout back at the men on the truck. Everyone is laughing.
While I walk, I try to meditate. I make the huge effort of concentrating on the way the wind feels on my skin, on the sound of the ocean as the waves slam mightily against the recently built stretch of protection wall. I try to transport myeself onto the masses of water that lie agitated, now at high tide, beyond the sidewalk.
It is the hour of the spectacle of the setting sun. The sky to the west changes to pink and red and for a few minutes some white clouds in the east get tinged a beautiful pink. As I turn my head to look at the sky, I notice the boys are walking down a side street and I sigh with relief. The whole sky turns pink and the sea reflects the beauty of this incredible gift of nature.
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Latest reply: Jun 7, 2005
helga danielsen
Researcher U211674
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