Okay, I’m going to post this earlier today because I have a fucking awesome ass 22nd B-Day party to attend to, where the theme is Pilgrims and Indians, and I will be an awesome Indian with an almost loincloth going on, which I am excited about. I’m going to get hammered, so you can see why posting later might be troublesome for me. Anyway, I have a lot “M’s” then some previous posts, so this one won’t be as short.

Magipoka – Liru

Liru is awesome. She’s got energy, charisma, and she’s a werewolf, which can only mean one thing: She likes meat. I like meat. Meat is awesome. There’s nothing better than a good steak. Liru pretty much made this series good (yes, I thought it was pretty good). She’s a much better character than that shitty robot girl, Aika. Aika sucked.

Mahou Sensei Negima! – Setsuna Sakurazaki

This one was kind of difficult…not because of the characters, but because I’m not really sure if I should include “Negima!?” the second series/retelling thingy or not. I mean, it has all of the characters, but it is a completely different show. In the end, I decided that I do in fact have a different favorite character for Negima!? then I do for Mahou Sensei Negima! (On a side note, I heard they were making a new season? If that’s true, that’s awesome!)

So what makes Setsuna so God damn great? Well there are actually several things. First and foremost, she carries with her a completely awesome samurai sword (of course, all samurai swords are awesome, I know, I have one). Girls who wield samurai swords (whether it be in a manga, anime, real life, novel etc.) are all fucking really cool (so are guys that wield them…I know, because I ha-

We get it. Enough.

Errr, right. So besides the sword what else makes her better than say, Asuna? Well, at this point I’d like to direct you to the awesome picture that I provided for you. See it? Are you looking? Obviously not, if you’re reading th-

Stop with that shit.

…why do you keep interrupting me? This is my post, not yours. If you were writing it then I sure as hell wouln’t interru-

Oh, if it were MY post? When the fuck am I going to be able to write a post? I’m just a voice of disagreement in your posts, I say things to disagree with you. That’s my job. That’s my purpose, so to write a post would completely defeat that purpose. How th-

How about this, if you stop interrupting me, I’ll let you write a post? Okay?

…fine. It’s a deal, and I’ll hold you to it.

Okay, so as I was saying, are you looking at the picture? Notice the hair. Is that not the most awesome hair you’ve ever seen in your days? If I ever saw a girl who was Japanese, and she had hair like that, I would date her. The end.

However, there is one more reason to her greatness, and that can be summed up in on word, a word that begins with “Y” and ends with “I”. I am, of course referring to the word, youcandefinitelytellthatSetsunahasfeelingsforKonokaandthatmeansthatshehasshadesofyuri. It’s a pretty long word, but it does well to add to her greatness……Time to start the manga methinks, because after I wrote this, I took a look at her bio and realized that she’s way more awesome then she was in the anime.

Mai HiME -Miyu “M.I.Y.U” Glear

First of all, what a fucking great anime, even if the end was kind of corny and stupid (everyone suddenly comes back alive? Gay. I can’t remember how the manga ended, but I know that the manga was fuckin awesome too.). So the obvious choice for the anime is Miyu, the android babe who is, like the show, fuckin awesome.

So wait, let me backtrack for a bit. What was the best part of Mai HiME? Obviously, it was the sick fighting, and even sicker use of technology, and that especially includes the animation of such technology being used. And of these technologies being used, Miyu’s was certainly the most awesome, most unique, and looked the coolest. Don’t believe me? Just look.

So I think we’ve established that Miyu certainly kicked ass, and besides that, her personality is one of all business. That’s it. That’s why she wins. To be fair, I liked pretty much all of the characters in this show.

Mai Otome – Arika Yumemiya

I actually agonized over who to choose. Mai Otome kicked ass because, unlike Mai HiME, it didn’t focus on stupid love as the main source for their powers, and instead focused on actual technology (nano bots). This made the show awesome, and so did the fact that the characters were all from Mai HiME, except that they were playing different roles. This was fucking awesome. The characters had the same names, same seiyu, and same appearance, but everything about them was semi-different (there’s a sentence that contradicts itself). There were a few settings that were exactly the same (like the bar) and that made it even better.

As far as character goes, I have no idea if I made the right choice….I could have just chosen Miyu again, but she didn’t do that much (she was still awesome). I was going to choose Mai or Mikoto (because I think Mai did a fucking sick move in one episode, and Mikoto is pretty much a cat, and cats are cool), but in the end I went with Arika, because she gets so nasty at the end that I pooped. Not literally, I pooped emotionally. It was sick. Props to Arika for not sucking. (should I have chosen Nina? FUCK).

NOTE: I am still not entirely sure about this pick.

MajinTantei Nougami Neuro – Neuro Nougami

Umm….hello? He eats riddles/puzzles/mysteries as food. Yeah. Do I have to say anything else? The only one who can figure out that riddle is Neuro Nougami.

Maria†Holic – Matsura Shinouji

She barely talks, but when she does say something, it’s usually to make fun of Kanako. Not only that, but she has no emotion, and always has on the same blank stare (I love blank stare characters)…..what character could possibly be better? No one. This is the second most awesome maid ever (Maria is obviously first).

As for the show, it was stale at times, but overall, I enjoyed it. I was going to use this picture, just because, but then I elected not to (it didn’t look good when shrunk….too grainy).

Miname-ke – Chiaki Minami

Her sarcastic, and sometimes cruel, personality is just to fucking great to ignore. She actually EASILY takes this one, despite the show having a pretty solid set of characters that all work good together. Not only that, but she sort of has that dull listless look in her eyes. as in, her expression rarely changes (except when it changes to an awesome expression, just like in Kyou no Go no Ni (same people made that)).

Mnemosyne – Rin Asogi

The part of Mimi (Rin’s lesbian counterpart) was played by Rie Kugimiya. But she’s not my favorite character in this anime (despite still being awesome). That’s just proving that I’m not completely bias toward Rie Kugimiya (the best seiyu ever). No, no, no, the best character in this show is Rin Asogi, and the reason for that is because she kicks some serious ass, and is pretty much really cool. I mean, how many times did she die in this anime? (She went through a jet engine, a jet engine that was on and functioning (in the sky), and survived…..that’s just…)

If you don’t believe me, then watch the first episode, and see Rin kill some dudes with something that resembles a yo-yo. It was fuckin sick. One thing I liked about this show was that the characters were all like, really really really old (like 1000s of years), even though they didn’t look like it, and likewise, the anime moves many years into the future as it moves from episode to episode. One thing I didn’t like was the end. It was a bit weird (I can’t remember it that well, which is pretty bad considering that this show was only 6 episodes (45 minutes episodes though). I still think that Mnemosyne was great.

Monster -Heinrich Runge

Okay, as I am typing this, I still haven’t picked a favorite person. Right now there is no picture and no name. The way I see it, there are three people that all are worthy of the top spot, Johan, Tenma, and Runge. Johan is your typical serial killer who has no emotional attachment to pretty much anything, and is a literal genius. Tenma is the neurosurgeon that saved Johan’s life when he was shot in the head, and is now hunting down Johan, feeling that it’s his fault Johan was given a chance to kill everyone. Runge is the detective hunting Tenma down, because he believes that Tenma was the one behind Johan’s murders (Johan is a genius, he doesn’t get caught ever…or does he?). Johan came up with a couple real BAM moments, Tenma was the fucking man (rebel on a mission here), and Runge, well fuck, I just like the guy, and I’m going to tell you exactly why Runge was the man, because it turns out that he is my favorite character.

At the start of the series, Runge seems like your average run-of the mill genious detective. But as the series progresses, we find out a whole lot of awesome stuff about him:

• At this point in his life, he’s pretty much said fuck you to his family, deciding that work is more important. His family leaves him and he doesn’t really care. He’s hell bent on getting Tenma.
• He fucking remembers everything. He’s pretty much a super detective, and while we’re on this subject.
• The way he remembers things is AWESOME. He types with his fingers (just like by his side in the air), as he thinks them, and then he never forgets (like an elephant). This small habit is what pushed him over the top for being my favorite character. I love weird quirks that characters have.
• He becomes a gun toting mother fucker at the end, and grows into being a bad ass detective (well maybe not bad ass, but fucking awesome).

Runge is awesome. (although I have to give props to Johan for his final plan at the end. I won’t say what it was, but you should know, because you obviously should have watched this show already.

Murder Princess – Falis

This isn't falis's original body....durr.

Here’s a show that was shitty. Choosing the character was easy though, because bounty hunters are always fucking awesome. (OBVIOUS REFERENCE). Given that bounty hunters are fucking radical (that’s right, RADICAL) how can anybody but Falis (that name is really funny phallus? lol). So anyway, Falis, a bounty hunter with a SAMURAI SWORD, ends ups somehow switching bodies with the princess, which makes for complications and princesses “murdering”. I don’t think I saw a drop of blood in this anime. It was very misleading. but bounty hunter with a samurai sword? Can’t not have her be the best (especially since all of the other characters were really fucking gay).

MORNING – Mnemosyne
Mnemosyne, gatekeeper of memory;
I ask for your blessing on this day,
To stir my mind and help me gather my thoughts,
To let nothing important slide past my gaze,
To warm my mind with the touch of divinity, and
To help me remember all that I need.
 
 
EVENING – Lethe
Lethe, goddess of oblivion;
I ask that you rest your hands upon my head
And pour your forgetful waters over my skin,
To soothe away the troubles from my mind,
To calm my frantic thoughts, and
To help me find peace, so that I might sleep.

Smoke curls shiver through
The frost-tinted air.
Mnemosyne waits, her
Fingers curled into
The thick fur of her
Dark, panting foxes.
Their breath melts the ice,
Brings warmth to her cheeks,
White and smooth as bone.

Time falls around her;
Ribbons of flame that
Dance to the music
Of her thumping heart.
She catches it in
Her hands, and blows the
Streams of yesterday
Into the air, bright
As twilight shadows.

Her free hand rests on
The bronze gate of time,
Of fluttering life;
Memory, pulsing
Beneath her pale skin,
Trapped in the abyss.
She looks ahead, then,
And smiles with too
Many, jagged teeth.

Our collaboration was five years old when we returned to the monastery of St Gerold. We wanted to do two things: record versions of some of the new music that we had added to our repertoire since Officium, and renew our encounter with the unknown, experimenting with music we hadn’t come across before.
Officium was based broadly on early music principles; we have now performed together hundreds of times and the repertoire, and what we do with it, has evolved a long way from those first explorations. So Mnemosyne really contains two sorts of music. The most straightforward are those pieces where we sing existing music (conventionally notated) and the saxophone improvises around us. We may reorder the music a bit but we know more or less what we’re going to do (we never know what the saxophone is going to do … ). This was how much of Officium worked.
A lot of the newer repertoire on Mnemosyne consists of very small amounts of material with minimal notation. These are rarely complete pieces and often just a few scraps, recovered from old book bindings or buried for centuries under desert sands. We may decide on an outline form and share out the material, then we all improvise and none of us knows what will happen next. It was another magical experience for us, five musicians plus the mercurial creative impulse of Manfred Eicher, and the timeless hospitality of Pater Nathanael at St Gerold. We did it for each other, in the absence of an audience, and these are complete, one-off performances, which will never sound the same again. John Potter

The Hilliard Ensemble
David James, countertenor
Rogers Covey-Crump, tenor
John Potter, tenor
Gordon Jones, baritone
Jan Garbarek, soprano & tenor saxophones

Mnemosyne

A sign we are, inexplicable
Without pain we are and have nearly
Lost our language in foreign lands.
For when the heavens quarrel
Over humans and moons proceed
In force, the sea
Speaks out and rivers must find
Their way. But there is One,
Whitout doubt, who
Can change this any date. He needs
No law. The rustle of leaf and then the sway of oaks
Besides glaciers. Not everything
Is in the power of the gods. Mortals would sooner
Reach toward the abyss. With them
The echo turns. Though the time
Be long, truth
Will come to pass.

“Officium” – “Parce Mihi Domine” (Cristóbal de Morales, 1550-1553, Spain). Recorded at Propistei St. Gerold, Austria (Sept. 1993). “Parce mihi Domine” is from the vulgate translation of the Book of Job. The whole text is beautiful and Morales has created a truly transcendent piece here, very much ahead of his time:
“Spare me, Lord, for my days are as nothing.
What is Man, that you should make so much of us?
Or why should you set your heart upon us?
You visit us at dawn,
and put us to the test at any moment.
Will you not spare me and let me be,
while I swallow my saliva?
If I have sinned, how have I hurt you,
O guardian of mankind?
Why have you set me up as your target,
so that I am now a burden to myself?
Why do you not forgive my sin
and why do you not take away my guilt?
Behold, I shall now lie down in the dust:
if you come looking for me I shall have ceased to exist.”

The soft silence of the dead yields to the
Whispers of Lethe: her lazy streams drift
Through low-swirling shadows like rich, lovely
Honey poured by the hands of the Mousai.

Her movements are as slow and careful as
Her trickling streams. Her liquid eyes smile
With gentle promise; as though her dusky
Bed holds all the secrets of this dark world.

Music hums between her pale fingers, quiet
Enough not to disturb the shades that trail,
Silent as Thanatos himself, in her
Wake. She shines with life in this place of death.

She glides, feet skimming her streams, to the lake
That lies where her waters end. She reaches
Out to kiss the goddess that waits; her lips
Brush Mnemosyne’s, soft as oblivion.

„Sag mal“, beschwerte sich der mächtige Bill Scopas, unser Gastgeber, der geladen hatte zum gemütlichen Beisammensein im Dandy-Club Daudet, einem von ihm in seinem Wintergarten begründeten literarischen Salon, an dem allerdings fast ausschließlich Verkäufer teilnahmen, hochrangige Marketingexperten und schreibbegabte Klinkenputzer, die Kunst und Kultur einen feuchten Dreck interessierten.
Im künstlichen Kamin prasselte gemütlich eine DVD, also die beweglichen Bilder, die auf einer DVD gespeichert waren, will ich damit sagen. Leise Streichquartette schmeichelten dem Ohr. Die Scheiben des Wintergartens boten einen imposanten Ausblick auf den gewaltigen, von einem ganzen Heer von Gärtnern betreuten Garten, der jetzt, nächtens, von Schneemassen überzuckert, noch mehr Eindruck machte als sonst schon.
Es ging auf Weihnachten zu, und wir alle hofften, dass die weiße Pracht sich erhalten möge.
Es hatte reichlich zu essen gegeben und überreichlich zu trinken, und entsprechend abgespannt war die Geistesverfassung der Gäste.
Sie lungerten alle im Halbkreis auf ihren antikisch inspirierten Liegen und ließen sich von Thai-Mädchen massieren. Viele schnarchten unverblümt, manche schoben Austern oder Trauben nach.

Bill Scopas, ein Mann wie ein IKEA-Schrank, hatte Simonides zur Seite genommen, dessen Huldigungspoem mittendrin schnöde abschneidend, etwa nach zwei Dritteln des Vortrags, mit lautem Zuruf („So, das reicht jetzt, aus, Schluss!“), und hielt ihm jetzt eine Gardinenpredigt.
„Du kannst doch nicht einfach plötzlich aufhören, mir in den Arsch zu kriechen, und stattdessen diese beiden Idioten aus dem Chinesischen Staatszirkus, Yin und Yang, über den grünen Klee loben? Und das vor all meinen Geschäftspartnern? Was fällt dir denn eigentlich ein?“
Simonides versuchte sich an einer Rechtfertigung seines poetischen Vorgehens: „Es handelte sich ja um ein Lobgedicht auf Tweedledee und Tweedledum, die ich in der allegorischen Kostümierung als Yin und Yang …“
„Quatsch“, entschied Scopas, „jedenfalls bekommst du, da du nur die halbe Arbeit gemacht hast, auch nur das halbe Geld!“
Und damit hielt er Simonides, mit einem tückischen Lächeln, einen Stapel Dollarscheine hin – die sämtlich sauber halbiert waren! Und damit natürlich vollkommen unbrauchbar. Seinen übrigen Gästen, allesamt Gauner, warf er ein heimtückisch-triumphales Grinsen zu.
„Was soll ich denn damit …“, murmelte unser Dichter verzweifelt, die schlapplappigen Scheine betrachtend. Wieder nur Tütensuppe morgen? Diese Frage tropfte ihm gleichsam aus den Augen, und mir schnürte der Anblick die Kehle zu. Denn das halbe Gedicht, diese erbärmliche Speichelleckerei auf Scopas, war wirklich gut gewesen! Ein echter Hit!
„Hätte er halt nicht auf Hans Castorp gereimt und auf Leutnant Lux“, bemerkte trocken einer der besoffensten Gäste, ein Vertriebler, der schon beim Hereinkommen nicht mehr ganz nüchtern gewesen war. Er lag auf dem Bauch, und ein lotosblumengleiches Mädel aus Fernost marschierte seit geraumer Zeit seinen Rücken rauf und runter.
„Wie soll das nur enden?“ flüsterte Simonides, die halbe Beute in die Tasche stopfend. Ich trat zur Seite, weil ich mir so elend hilflos vorkam, und just in diesem Augenblick kam Jim, der Butler, ein genetisch manipulierter Schimpanse, auf allen Vieren herangehüpft und sagte mit seiner hässlichen, kreischenden Affenstimme: „Mr Simonides? Da sind zwei Herren für Sie an der Tür!“
„An der Tür? Für mich?“ wunderte sich unser Poet, der gehofft hatte, als Rhetor ein bisschen was dazu zu verdienen.
„Ja, an der Tür“, wiederholte der Affe geduldig, von unten, mit allerdings arrogantem Hervorschieben der Unterlippe.
Simonides ging ab, und ich zögerte einen Augenblick. Es hatte schon den ganzen Abend geschneit, wie wild, und das Dach war eine undurchdringlich weiße Fläche. Ich hörte schon seit einer ganzen Weile ein leises Knirschen, aber ich bildete mir natürlich ein, dass es ein psychologisches Geräusch wäre, eine unterbewusste, eingebildete Wahrnehmung, oder das Zähneknirschen unseres verzweifelten Hofdichters, dem man eine solche gemeine Abfuhr erteilt hatte. Vielleicht, so schloss ich, war das Knirschen auch in meinem Kopf, Resultat der Spannungen, mit denen der Konflikt mich durchzog.
Ich folgte also Simonides zur Tür, halb aus Neugierde, ob das Knirschen dann aufhören würde (was ja zumindest ein Hinweis auf seine Quelle wäre), halb auch interessiert an der Frage, wer mitten in der Nacht einen brotlosen Künstler zu sprechen wünschte?

Es waren zwei Chinesen, mit denen ich Simonides hinter der Tür sprechen sah, zwei leicht debil aussehende, wie ich leider sagen muss, Artisten. Das mussten doch die beiden Idioten aus dem Chinesischen Staatszirkus sein? dachte ich. Die aus dem Gedicht?
Ganz deutlich hörte ich, wie Simonides sagte: „Danke, Hans, danke, Leutnant. Tausend, tausend Dank!“ Und ebenso deutlich sah ich, wie er aus ihren Händen die andere Hälfte des defekten Dollarbündels empfing!
Mir blieb die Spucke weg.
Ich blieb erst mal stehen und glotzte.
Und da hörte ich das Krachen.

Das Dach des Wintergartens war herabgekommen. Die Glaskonstruktion hatte den Naturgewalten des Schnees nicht standhalten können, und eine regelrechte scherbengespickte Lawine war über die unvorbereitete, hilflose Festgesellschaft hereingebrochen. Alle waren auf der Stelle tot, oder sie erstickten jedenfalls nach wenigen Minuten. Jim, der Butler, stand mit ratlosem Gesicht in der Tür, die vom Wohnzimmer in den Wintergarten führte, und betrachtete sich die Bescherung. In seinen Klauen hielt er Schippe und Schaufel.
„Na, so eine Sauerei“, murmelte das hochgetunete Tier. „Wie soll ich da jetzt die Leichname voneinander scheiden? Ich hab doch keine Ahnung, wer von diesen grauenhaft entstellten Toten wer ist?“
„Kein Problem“, sagte Simonides, dessen Gedächtnis geschult war vom Memorieren seiner leider oft ellenlangen Poeme. „Ich kann dir ganz genau bezeichnen, wer wo gelegen hat, als ich den Raum verließ.“
„Ah, prima!“ jauchzte der Affe. „Dann brauche ich die Leichenteile ja nur noch zusammenzulegen, und die Angehörigen können die Opfer identifizieren!“
Es war eine kalte, lange Nacht, aber wir bewältigten die Aufgabe, die sie uns stellte, und an ihrem Ende war eine neue Methode des Gedächtnistrainings entstanden.
„Darüber werde ich gleich ein Buch schreiben“, rief Simonides erfreut, der glaubte, jetzt eine weitere Einnahmequelle aufgetan zu haben.
„Längst geschehen!“ grinste da mephistophelisch der Affe und präsentierte stolz ein Book-on-demand, das er hinter unserem Rücken hatte herstellen lassen, während wir die Relikte der Partygäste zusammentrugen zur schauerlichen Wiedervereinigung.
„Du bist ein Schwein“, sagte ich grimmig zu Jim, der sein bulliges Gebiss präsentierte.
„Lieber ein Schwein als ein Affe“, gab Jim hochmütigen Tones zurück, drehte sich um und hoppelte auf allen Vieren davon.

「アンキ」は多分、他のフラッシュカード・サイトの中でも一番良いプログラムです。

六ヶ月ぐらい、このプログラムを使っていたので、いっぱい進歩できました。

「Mnemosyne」もとても役に立つサイトです。

Uno de los muchos e impactantes puntos fuertes de Mnemosyne fue sin duda el apartado musical, con uno de los mejores openings ciertamente que un servidor recuerda haber visto, así como un ending también a la altura de lo esperado en esta mini-serie que tanto nos encandiló el pasado año.

El encargado de la música para los temas tanto de apertura como cierre es GALNERYUS, una banda musical con un estilo rockero bastante original y capaces de hacer, como bien demostraron con el extraordinario tema Alsatia (el opening de la serie), toda una demostración de fuerza y emotividad condensadas en unos breves pero intensos momentos de éxtasis musical.

Para descargar el disco solo tenéis que pulsar sobre el siguiente enlace:

Mnemosyne: OP-ED Single

Track List:

1 - Alsatia
2 - Wings
3 - The Awakening
4 - Cause Disarray

Fuente:
El Rincón del Manga

 The Greek Muse Euterpe

Mythologies, perhaps, originate as dreams, and their meanings are often open to debate. I like to think that the opportunities they afford for reflection and discussion are the meanings. Linda R. Herzog is an artist I discovered recently when searching online for images of Euterpe (yoo TER pee), the Greek muse of music who is usually depicted playing a flute or double aulos. Herzog tells us that her fantasy visions come to her in the night while she sleeps. They are so vivid and powerful that she wakes up to sketch them before falling back to sleep. Is this how it works … mythology? Her images are fantastic and surrealistic — surprising and fun — but we might be left puzzled at their meaning.

The work depicted above is called Euterpe and was painted in 2006. It immediately made me think of Darwin and the biblical Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The parting waters might also remind us of Moses parting the Red Sea. Euterpe, I naturally assumed, plays the flute. I’d seen images before of Adam and Eve depicted as monkeys. This one stands unabashedly exposed, minus a fig leaf — clearly before the biblical Fall (and perhaps even before the creation of woman). At the same time, he is depicted as a kind of Pied Piper, perhaps luring (a devil in disguise) or leading (Moses in disguise) his people out of slavery in Egypt and toward the Promised Land. The image is at once ominous and hopeful. But why connect the obviously male figure to the female muse?

Not much information is available about Euterpe. Hesiod identifies her only as one of the nine daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (Memory). Only later, in classical Greece, was she given a flute and associated with music and lyric poetry. We also learn that she became pregnant by the river god Strymon and bore him a son. His name was Rhesus who, Homer tells us in the Iliad, led a small army of Thracian soldiers into the Trojan War, where he was tragically killed by Diomedes.

Don’t bother to look up the etymology of rhesus. I couldn’t find a Greek meaning for the word. The rhesus monkey, as it turns out, was arbitrarily named after the Thracian king. Each one of us has an rh (rhesus) factor helping to identify our blood type. So … the rhesus monkey in Herzog’s painting is not Euterpe, after all. It is representative of the son that Euterpe bore. It emerges out of the river (the god Strymon) and has inherited its mother’s flute. And because we are all blood-connected by the rh element, the painting ultimately depicts our own image mirrored back to us. Maybe we view ourselves as Adam tempted by the knowledge leading to his fall, or maybe we view ourselves as the Thracian king Rhesus fighting for a seemingly noble cause tragically leading to his death. We might even view ourselves as Moses leading “our people” to a better place, or as a semi-dark figure luring others toward an ambiguous end.

The monkey’s shadow connects him to the Tree of Knowledge, and the small bell suspended from a branch above him connects his mother Euterpe to both music and the fruit of knowledge–of both good and evil. When we call upon the muse, do we anticipate a tragic ending or a comic progression, or something else? If you’ve been following my blog, you know that I call it a journey of the dragonfly, my spirit mentor and, increasingly, mirror image of my own psyche. Imagine my surprise and delight, then, upon discovering that Herzog’s paintings were featured in a Kevin Costner film entitled Dragonfly.

Dear friends and various denizens of the internets,

We arrive at 100 posts in less than a year. Where did the time go? How have we come this far? The answer must be intestinal fortitude. Largely on your part.

This here blob is mainly my brain in blog form, needlessly taking up valuable internet space. I would like to take this moment to wholeheartedly thank you for reading it. Even as I’m confused as to why you would do so.

It has been therapeutic, to say the least, to write these posts for you. It is very much like hollering into the void; a pastime I have grown accustomed to. It beats actively talking to myself in public, and is a lot less creepy. For this, as well, I thank you. My family thanks you.

Your comments have made my writing endeavors less one-sided. I hope you continue to leave them and that you never tire of writing back to me in this fashion.

I should probably stop here before I get weepy.

Here’s to 100 more posts. Mabuhay. Salud. Kampai. Prost. L’ Chaim. Chin chin. Cheers.

Love and all my other bad habits,

Gemma

Diesmal sind nicht die Füße dran, sondern der Kopf: Japanisch-Kenntnisse auffrischen. Denn es ist nunmal eine traurige Wahrheit, dass man ganz schnell aus der Übung kommt, wenn man eine Sprache nicht regelmäßig spricht. Insbesondere, wenn man wie ich nicht gerade ein Sprach-Genie ist. Deutsch und Englisch gehören ja bei mir zum Berufsalltag, Japanisch leider(?) nicht. Das wird nur immer kurz vor dem Urlaub mal wieder aufgefrischt.

Dank der beiden Sprachkurse, die ich vor zwei Jahren am LSI in Bochum besucht habe, hab ich ja vernünftiges Lehrmaterial daheim. Und ich bin immer wieder überrascht, wie viel ich von damals tatsächlich noch behalten habe – und gleichzeitig meistens auch sehr entsetzt, wie viel ich auf der anderen Seite schon wieder vergessen habe. Die Kurse dort kann ich übrigens nur empfehlen, sie tragen die Bezeichnung “Intensiv-Sprachkurs” nicht zu unrecht. Da wird man 3 Wochen lang, 6 Tage die Woche von morgens früh bis abends spät mit Grammatik, Vokabeln, Schriftzeichen und japanischer Kultur zugedröhnt – und das zu großen Teilen von Muttersprachlern.

Ändert aber nichts daran, dass mein altes Hirn, dass ja vorher 10 Jahre lang mit chemischen und physikalischen Formeln, Molekülstrukturen, etc. vollgestopft wurde, nicht mehr ganz so willig ist, neue Vokabeln aufzunehmen. Da hilft nur eins: wiederholen, wiederholen und nochmal wiederholen. Im Auto laufen auf dem Weg von der Arbeit nach Hause schon meist die CDs vom Sprachkurs, und daheim werden Vokabeln mit Hilfe von Karteikarten wiederholt.

Natürlich nimmt man dafür heute keine richtigen Karteikarten aus Papier mehr, sondern entsprechende Programme (wobei ich mich ja frage, was schlechter für die Umwelt ist, die Papierverschwendung oder der Stromverbrauch des Computers). Man muss aber auch erstmal eins finden, das mit japanischen Schriftzeichen zurecht kommt, viele sind dazu leider nicht in der Lage. Im Moment arbeite ich mit Mnemosyne, das bringt einen recht interessanten Lernansatz mit und ist obendrein noch Freeware. Es muss natürlich auch erstmal “gefüttert” werden, aber das ist ja auch eine Form des Wiederholens…

1. How do your own practices relate to those of the pre-Hellenics?

The more I learn, the better I can answer this question. I give sponde in spontaneous thanks, made in good faith as part of a prayer and promise of more sacrifice if the god(s) answer my prayer, or as part of a routine ritual or celebration. I also resonate with the ancient practice of sacrificing artwork to one or more deities. I find natural settings moving in the same way the pre-Hellenics did, I imagine. I might witness a clear day after the rain, smell the clean air, see the sun lighting vibrant leaves, and feel truly alive. At times like this, I pause and acknowledge it – with a kiss on my fingertips, a drink-offering, and perhaps say out loud, “Oh, you are beautiful.” or “Thank you for this beautiful day.” I also have erected an altar to Gaea and Zeus in our home, as well as an image of above the stove/hearth which itself I consider both an embodiment of her and an altar itself.

2. What is the relationship between deity and the natural world? Do the gods control physical phenomena, do they personify it, or do they have some other relationship?

It depends on the deity. Chaos, Nyx, Gaea, Uranus, the Titans and some of the gods after them like I think are embodiments of the ‘natural world’ and concepts. Mnemeosyne can’t be anything but Memory, for example; compared to Apollon who is light, music, archery, and plague. I think it would be a stretch to say that Chronos literally ‘controls’ time if He was subdued by His son. Rather, I think that because Zeus overtook Time and exiled Him, the gods became time-less or ‘distanced from time’ and thus unaffected by Him directly.

However, with each generation of the gods Their spheres of influence become more complex and overlapping. As Yvonne so eloquently says, “Poisidon is the horse and Athena is the bridle.”, there is more control involved with each successive generation, and in a way of speaking, more consciousness that rises out of that realm (at least, that which we can relate to). That is why it’s easier to pray to Asklepios than it is to Apollon, and Apollon compared to Zeus, and Zeus compared to Uranus, etc. They become more personable and thus more like personifications.

3. What is the significance (if any) of the origin and history of a deity?

The origin and history of a deity is a lot like the origin and history of a word. For example, in Old English a ‘reeve’ was a royal official responsible for keeping the peace. A reeve of a shire (county) was a ’shire reeve’ or Sheriff. Knowing the roots of a word deepens our understanding of the word. It is so with the gods. Understanding Their roots enables us to understand Them more deeply. By understanding Their origins, we can also understand what They might embody or personify in the modern world.

Which god should I pray to when my computer breaks down? Should it be Hephestos for His realm of all things metal-work? Or should it be Hermes for His realm of speed, commerce, and communication? Examining Their roots enlightens us as to Their root meaning or root concerns, and therefore, how They apply to us today (or how we can apply to Them).

Daphne has made a short film about the scent called Mnemosyne — who was the Greek goddess of memory — apt says Daphne because it matches her own classical name.
She says, “Perfume is all about memory. I made a film about the perfume because you can’t describe a scent in words.” [thisislondon]

Image: annafrostdailyfashion