Herve's Bar & Grill
- Thread starter edX
- Start date
Ed, could you tell something about Herve to the newer members? Some of us has never seen him - and I have only heard some urban stories in the ... real life .. that was, having a beer with some people from here. 
Mmhh.. not fun to talk to someone that you didn't even know was a mac user and then you discover he knew you from here..
Mmhh.. not fun to talk to someone that you didn't even know was a mac user and then you discover he knew you from here..
Darkshadow
wandering shadow
Heh, Herve was always interesting - and sometimes so incoherent you just had to ignore what he said. If y'all would really want to see, just read some of the first posts in this thread, you'll get a good idea.
I miss the 'air'. Something ... liberty. Air. Space. Freedom. That I loose having anything (objects) around... I just went thru a big suitcase seeing things that once were my life.. that once was my home, moving in a plane from a country to another. Seeing few traces of what were the memories.. I felt I wanted to throw them away. All of them. All those little things that once made me remember.. now I don't want to. A clean table.. a white space, with barely a sketch on it.. With everything starting again, from a scratch...
Photos.. not even those. I threw even most of those. I never display photos of anyone around me (in the physical space). And equally I feel uncomfortable finding old pictures of mine at the tables of relatives.. like they were imprisoning something of me, not just trying to believe their memories.. ... This city feels like a big mistake, grey, .. without the air that makes me feel alive. I look around and nothing feels 'mine', I feel like ... walking away from a door and never wanting to come back. I wanted to throw away the ticket of return and never come back, the next time it'll be just the one way... why is it some cities are nice and some aren't? That you can be in harmony with them, and some ... you don't like? And with some of them you can be in a total lack of harmony, making you feel more and more dead inside. ... at least that brings a bit of essence of air, giving the hope of being a little bit more of life out there in the space...
The glass of the apple juice is empty, like I wish my dreams were...
Photos.. not even those. I threw even most of those. I never display photos of anyone around me (in the physical space). And equally I feel uncomfortable finding old pictures of mine at the tables of relatives.. like they were imprisoning something of me, not just trying to believe their memories.. ... This city feels like a big mistake, grey, .. without the air that makes me feel alive. I look around and nothing feels 'mine', I feel like ... walking away from a door and never wanting to come back. I wanted to throw away the ticket of return and never come back, the next time it'll be just the one way... why is it some cities are nice and some aren't? That you can be in harmony with them, and some ... you don't like? And with some of them you can be in a total lack of harmony, making you feel more and more dead inside. ... at least that brings a bit of essence of air, giving the hope of being a little bit more of life out there in the space...
The glass of the apple juice is empty, like I wish my dreams were...
Cat
Registered
Quando basso e pesante il cielo grava
Come un coperchio al gemebondo spirito
Preda di lunghe accidie, e a noi, abbracciando
Tutto il cerchio dell'orizzonte, versa
Un buio lume, più triste che notte;
Quando la terra si trasforma in umido
Carcere dove la Speranza, come
Un pipistrello, se ne va sbattendo
Contro i muri la sua timida ala,
Urtando il capo a putridi soffitti;
Quando la pioggia, stendendo le sue
Immense strisce, imita le sbarre
D'una vasta prigione, e un muto popolo
Di ragni infami al fondo del cervello
Viene a tenderci le sue reti, - a un tratto
Campane erompono furiose e lanciano
Verso il cielo uno spaventoso urlo,
Come spiriti erranti e senza patria
Che diano in gemiti, ostinatamente.
E dei lunghi, funerei cortei
Vanno sfilando nell'anima mia
Senza tamburi né musica, lenti.
È in lacrime, ormai vinta, la Speranza;
L'atroce Angoscia mi pianta, dispotica,
Sul cranio chino il suo vessillo nero.
(Spleen, Baudelaire)
Come un coperchio al gemebondo spirito
Preda di lunghe accidie, e a noi, abbracciando
Tutto il cerchio dell'orizzonte, versa
Un buio lume, più triste che notte;
Quando la terra si trasforma in umido
Carcere dove la Speranza, come
Un pipistrello, se ne va sbattendo
Contro i muri la sua timida ala,
Urtando il capo a putridi soffitti;
Quando la pioggia, stendendo le sue
Immense strisce, imita le sbarre
D'una vasta prigione, e un muto popolo
Di ragni infami al fondo del cervello
Viene a tenderci le sue reti, - a un tratto
Campane erompono furiose e lanciano
Verso il cielo uno spaventoso urlo,
Come spiriti erranti e senza patria
Che diano in gemiti, ostinatamente.
E dei lunghi, funerei cortei
Vanno sfilando nell'anima mia
Senza tamburi né musica, lenti.
È in lacrime, ormai vinta, la Speranza;
L'atroce Angoscia mi pianta, dispotica,
Sul cranio chino il suo vessillo nero.
(Spleen, Baudelaire)
Islas del cielo, soplo en un soplo suspendido
¡con pie ligero, semejante al aire,
pisar sus playas sin dejar más huella
que la sombra del viento sobre el agua!
¡Y como el aire entre las hojas
perderse en el follaje de la bruma
y como el aire ser labios sin cuerpo,
cuerpo sin peso, fuerza sin orillas!
(Nubes, O. Paz.)
Nada soy yo,
cuerpo que flota, luz, oleaje;
todo es del viento
y el viento es aire siempre de viaje.
(Viento)
.. In the second 'American' language .. me entienden mejor, Cat.
¡con pie ligero, semejante al aire,
pisar sus playas sin dejar más huella
que la sombra del viento sobre el agua!
¡Y como el aire entre las hojas
perderse en el follaje de la bruma
y como el aire ser labios sin cuerpo,
cuerpo sin peso, fuerza sin orillas!
(Nubes, O. Paz.)
Nada soy yo,
cuerpo que flota, luz, oleaje;
todo es del viento
y el viento es aire siempre de viaje.
(Viento)
.. In the second 'American' language .. me entienden mejor, Cat.
Darkshadow
wandering shadow
Um...good luck.
(format what?)
(format what?)
symphonix
Scratch & Sniff Committee
Good luck.
I haven't dropped by for a while. It isn't the same without Herve!
If a lake is half-full, and a fish living there says it is half empty, is that fish a pessimist or an optometrist?
*Sigh* - it's just not the same.
Hey, and how come nobody has solved my puzzler yet? Do I have to give another hint? Or offer a free drinks card for Herve's bar? You don't have to work out the code until after you figure out what the prize is ...
http://www.macosx.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=30158
I just don't want to be stuck being the one to explain it ...
I haven't dropped by for a while. It isn't the same without Herve!
If a lake is half-full, and a fish living there says it is half empty, is that fish a pessimist or an optometrist?
*Sigh* - it's just not the same.
Hey, and how come nobody has solved my puzzler yet? Do I have to give another hint? Or offer a free drinks card for Herve's bar? You don't have to work out the code until after you figure out what the prize is ...
http://www.macosx.com/forums/showthread.php?s=&threadid=30158
I just don't want to be stuck being the one to explain it ...
