Tag Archives: Philosophy

seems writing a text is entering in a pit full of snails

Former residence of Cruquius mill's foreman, t...

Former residence of Cruquius mill’s foreman, today a café next to the museum. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Pisa – the church tower


…this site is about everything I need to make the public quieted and at ease with what is really happening of importance and interest, without challenging me for the headlines. The base fundamentals of my endeavours are to treat the forthcoming problems of a society in error to make a choice for the better side of the moonlandscape displayed like a trusted device of upcoming means and ends to reach the goals any society of serious bravura would put itself without the historically so often feelings of inimicity to who keeps a different answer. My means are the comparison of facts and the mentioning about what I observe to challenge my attention, if not I am sometimes hindered to feel free in that. And to approach the problem right at the horns of the bull: the answers for the questions of who to trust and what are deeply hidden in one’s just self’s make up of personality, be that a strong or a disabled one to the purposes society puts on its members. To reach the calling out of such a faithful acceptance to feel free in yourself I have been given the means of language for.


Pompeiian wall painting


…as a question of viewing rightly what’s the matter my text have been most of the time changed into their opposite and so ascribed to me, by other people than I know to belong to my world, which saved then the original of my hand to give that the predicate of being from their  authentication. Far from feeling in opposition towards developing customs to free this world from the chains of inappropriate answers in the terrains of text writing, editioning and redaction, I can just look over the till now reached with the methods in use to hide the author’s source and try to reshape my ideas in a matter I thought I had already left.


For me what’s teached and what’s taught and what’s just thought are no differences asking for road movie answers or detailed discussions. I take my opinions as for now like generalized, having my exemplary ideas around and farther away: the culture even of the Dutch Republic in 17th century in which my observations root have never been like the customs of unlikely good digesting offices of the kind only America‘s far west shows us till today. I cannot react on all and in all requests, so I actually gave my information to be shared by free will, and to be treated like collective property, not of the minorities, but for the authorities of greater social insight than only the well-being of their purse.


steam pumping engine building ‘Cruquius
Haarlemmermeer – Holland – ringvaartcanal


….in the time of constructioning the here showed building of steam engine pumping the construction of the engine has been the most modern in Europe, afterwards it would give way to such constructions all over the world, and it is not already long ago it stopped functioning for being replaced by engines more adapted to modern times  demands. The name of this building is after a sort of science worker in seventeenth century called Klaas Kruik, a name easily to change into Cruquius and the striving has never been fully accepted in the Dutch Republic to take over latin forms for names, so the choice has been rather unhappy for poor Klaas. And even so, sometimes the pseudonym or the translation brings with conflicts, problems and poverty to the man who is the victim of the misunderstanding your lawful name wouldn’t be satisfying. And so is man, always trying to climb over the walls of the known to reach the streets of the unknown city he actually lives in, and then thereafter he discovers he cannot find his way back home.


delphinium consolida – picture: Carol Nourse
Georgia Botanical Garden – Athens Ge.


…those are this pictures meaning to me, I seldom made the photograph myself but recently experimented a little with my camera, they show the way back out of the desert of a writer‘s ending his text too quickly, or exhaustively trying to write down everything he knows in the subject, both signs of a mind too tired to pick up normal concentration…and for the art of blogging people will say: who cannot, everybody’s doing so, but would they just quiet down their inactiveness to answer their world’s problems or would they have given true report the story never tells. And if anyone will be so interested in the text writing abilities of the experienced writer I am, it depends on what he tackles and not else. Being an important person is really meaning something else to me like what I do: I just inform my public which is free to decide for reading or not, and I hope to be amusing too. The vocation true writers bear with like their heritage I must for a pity leave aside within the context of this post.


guzmania – picture: Hugh Nourse
Georgia Botanical Garden – Athens Ge.



the change in sector seven meaning truth in sector ten

Maenad and two Satyrs

Maenad and two Satyrs (Photo credit: ForsterFoto)


Image  …it is my answer I am rather occupied with different things than all those you make worries in, and you, I give you after all, could take occasion to create just of the enterprise you exercised already for so many years a good time’s occupation of the like I have no time for, you know well….being it my destiny may be to have not any special tie nor aim, no reason to do anything but the good answers givin’ and to do what I do like the most: to formulate what you cannot, to give expression to the shows I’m in.


Meanwhile we can wait for any saying yes or no, we go on with our comprehensive catalogue of what we understood after a long time travel to the present of the day tonight, the coming back of what so true for any clerk of litterature, he writes alone, and has no shortage in his social life, together with my dog I will come home….


Image    its just good for any people to do sports, and like we understand the wage in temperate economy is in the back, the good being what we all know but seemingly I wouldn’t understand so well, it is dried up the well of Salmon, the well of Joseph and the pit of Sichem, and for upmost of my efforts it is to me but good…here we go again, we cry, and here I am will be, the so well understood system of a social life without complaints, will never end in sky’s onlookin’, the desert for a sturmy night, repeat of all what I did do in fowliedge and Bacchantic eye of evil, and we forget untill we have the truth and understand who moved us to this strange outlet of envied power not to see for ever any more….


….like we can trust our insight there is too the wisdom of man’s nature, too the wisdom of the gods, and to make for the match between them both will be too suddenly understood like challenging a Nobel prize he doesn’t want to get…..if you think I’ll ever make a peace you’re wrong, I distribute a swords design and antitanks in a papermoon bag of lavender with golden ribbons….the play is misfortunately harmless like the play of children, but miscalleneously serious for who joins the management of that love’s answerings…the details I will give when I have time…


….what’s more I cannot speak, tied like I am to thunderbird’s nails and chickenthief’s snail…with me just started something and I give it way, to be worked out in motivated answers….like you may understand: a pictures agent never is so talkative…I got my jobs again back from the battlefield of no one’s addict…





….then we say to each other: we thought he would…

Zuiderzeewerken – Herman Heuff – aquarel – 1932

…we like it so much to cheat our own eyes that we don’t see what’s reality….it would possibly too much to digest in one evening dinner to taste what’s new and true….a steak on a dish of gold we want, that’s why we do so…..like a child asking for a candy….

….reality of life is people think and rather should see on it they do, people who only say: we thought, do not seem to ever get lined up with a reality that would free them, fearing like they are for the freedom that would show their sad past of impoverished raw fish eaters and beer drinkers…and till the end they resist to face any truth about themselves but….that they are respectable en and women…beating up their children in the background of this kitchen floor and moving them to stay all night on the cold place behind their closed doors….would they ever listen their children would answer them  and spare them less than we do…a confrontation with the humbugged parrot feathers their fathers wearied is not excluded for a patriot to eternity’s promised land….though they’ll stay at the other side of the river making the boundary between desert and land….a tree will grow in the desert, but better he’ll do in the land…

dune – etching – Harting