This first five minutes of the Roscoe Arbuckle comedy short ‘The Cook’ (1918) co-starring 23-year-old Buster Keaton, emoting, can, I believe, change lives
Please enjoy this illustration from the seventy-third chapter of Varney the Vampire.
Thank you.
I was reading a book recently about the politics of translation and I think I’ve found the most impressive translation of Paul Celan’s “Todesfuge” so far. The way Felstiner manages to make tangible the tension inherent to the very use of German itself (the language of oppression - the language of resistance) is just… on another level.
Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening
we drink it at midday and morning we drink it at night
we drink and we drink
we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too cramped
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta
he writes it and steps out of doors and the stars are all sparkling, he whistles his hounds to come close
he whistles his Jews into rows has them shovel a grave in the ground
he commands us to play up for the dance.Black milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at morning and midday we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
A man lives in the house he plays with his vipers he writes
he writes when it grows dark to Deutschland your golden hair Margareta
Your ashen hair Shulamith we shovel a grave in the air there you won’t lie too crampedHe shouts jab the earth deeper you lot there you others sing up and play
he grabs for the rod in his belt he swings it his eyes are so blue
jab your spades deeper you lot there you others play on for the dancingBlack milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday and morning we drink you at evening
we drink and we drink
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margareta
your aschenes Haar Shulamith he plays his vipers
He shouts play death more sweetly this Death is a master from Deutschland
he shouts scrape your strings darker you’ll rise then as smoke to the sky
you’ll have a grave then in the clouds there you won’t lie too crampedBlack milk of daybreak we drink you at night
we drink you at midday Death is a master aus Deutschland
we drink you at evening and morning we drink and we drink
this Death is ein Meister aus Deutschland his eye it is blue
he shoots you with shot made of lead shoots you level and true
a man lives in the house your goldenes Haar Margarete
he looses his hounds on us grants us a grave in the air
he plays with his vipers and daydreams der Tod ist ein Meister aus Deutschlanddein goldenes Haar Margarete
dein aschenes Haar Shulamith
From Paul Celan : Poet, Survivor, Jew, John Felstiner
The chapel of St. Vincent’s church in Venice, Italy, has been converted to a stunning home. The current building dates back to the early 19th century, but it incorporates marbles from the much older church of San Vio, that originally stood on the spot.


Can you imagine living here? I don’t think I’d put too much around to cover up those walls- I’d want to be able to clearly see the history.
Italian Navy, destroyer Luigi Durand de la Penne and tall ship Amerigo Vespucci.
Some one add the post about the USS Independence having a crush on the Vespucci



















