This is the final version of the first picture. Click on the thumbnail to enlarge.

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“mata ego” in the language of the Rapa Nui of Easter Islands is the word for eyes that reveal that a person has been crying. I found this (and countless more) in the book The Meaning of Tingo by Adam Jacot de Boinod. It collects expressions that only exist in one language. A book full of poetic nuggets.

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DON’T YOU SLEEP! The eyes of this guy are amazing! via youtube.
Lyrics.

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With the weapon incorporated in this whale we see into the year 1877. Some things don’t change. It’s like a bottled message.

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Two stories: As a five year old Jewish boy, Alex Kurzem, had witnessed the Nazis massacre his fellow villagers and members of his family. Later on he was “adopted” by a SS Nazi unit as their “mascot”. He witnessed countless massacres and atrocities, while being in fear of being discovered. See more here and here.
Second: Researchers reprogram normal tissue cells into embryonic stem cells.
To me the circle of guilt, youth and adulthood switching roles and transforming into each other ties those two stories together.

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ICKY THUMP! The wonderful new album by The White Stripes (great new design btw!) is out! The guitar solo on “icky thump” makes a nice little hole in the sky.

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I found some of the letters James Joyce wrote to Nora. (”my sweet little fuckbird” he calls her.) They are so melodious! You can dance to them! And they show an important point about what it is to be human and to love. Something a bit beyond the borders of self-improvement and cosmopolitan magazine.

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I look like a fiddler crab (videos here). An animal that I like a lot, because it is such a wonderful example of the bizarre results of sexual selection. What we like, what the girls like, when we reach our dreams, we’ll be like the fiddler crab. And art is a bit like that too.

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One of the few things, that are impossible to do with just one hand, is tying your shoes. (Even the famous sound of a single clapping hand of Zen - actually it just takes practice…). And there are many ways to do it. Though you don’t necessarily have to do it. And asking a lady on the street to help you tie your shoe is a marvellous experience of humiliation and joy for both sides.

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In hospital, every couple of hours the nurses asked me to rate my level of pain on a scale from 0 to 10 (Fortunately, they did’nt use this one). I think it’s pretty awkward to scale the qualitative feeling of pain on a scale like that. Of course, it’s only function is to decide, if you should get more painkillers or not. So you have second thoughts and adjust your level to their expectations. And all kinds of boundary effects happen. You can never say “9″ e.g. because it’s to close to 10. So I once collapsed with a mild “7″. And by the way: isn’t it supposed to be a logarithmic scale? There are pain-receptors that have such a high threshold, that in the course of a normal life they never fire. Only when a leg is amputated or so, they do fire. I like the idea of a potential sensory, lying dormant in each of us. Think of other qualities, other modalities!

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