- 21-08-2012, 11:19 #2111
Well as you should know by now, your mad waffle deserves no respect. There are intelligent people here trying to get the message through and you reply with subjective junk that is a million miles from the points raised.
You can agree that religions are crackers but stop short at reasoning about your own delusion. We will continue the battle hoping that one day you will understand.
The supernatural stories of jesus are myths, his philosophy was inadequate and there is no merit in trying to live your life in accordance with biblical babble. Better to worship nature and listen to the innate feelings that evolution has provided.
- 21-08-2012, 11:24 #2112
- 21-08-2012, 11:47 #2113
Perhaps you should realise that books from authors like Austen or the Brönte sisters are about a thin upper crust of society which is portrayed in a very romantic manner.
Just out of view is the great unwashed majority who haven't been much changed since then. They main difference is nowadays they have broadscreen tellies and wear hoodies...
As to how recognisable the Austen / Brönte stories are; it has been said there are only seven original storylines possible. they are often described as series of conflicts: Man vs. Man, Man vs. Nature, Man against God, Man vs. Society, Man in the Middle, Man & Woman, Man vs. Himself. In the basic stories there are basic personalities and archetypes are timeless.
a hag is a hag. She used to live in a gingerbread house and nowadays she is played by Catherine Tate...
Watch out! Kim Jong Il is watching you!
If wars were won by feasting, or, victory by song,
or safety found in sleeping sound, how England would be strong!
But honour and dominion are not maintained so.
They're only got by sword and shot, and this the Dutchmen know!
Kipling.
- 21-08-2012, 12:11 #2114
But, this is dark stuff K. Exceptional insights into the heart of man. Of course maddening as well. Twain said he'd like to dig up Austen and beat her over the skull with her shin bone. Painful reading at times.
But if the parasols block your view, then, we've got Shakespeare to fall back on, who one writer said is the nearest to the eye of God on humanity. The relationship between Othello and Desdemona and notions of love and trust are all recognisable to the blokes here.
But more gritty recognisable language is from Dostoyevsky onwards. The unamed man in Notes from Underground or the three brothers in Karamazov resemble much of our narratives.
As the old programme said, turn off the TV and do something more interesting instead... one of the greatest gifts to your children is to introduce them to these writers who expand their understanding. Gives them the language to make sense of the absurd. Wonderful stuff K!"As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her - her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye." Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier
- 21-08-2012, 12:13 #2115"As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her - her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye." Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier
- 21-08-2012, 12:24 #2116"As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her - her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye." Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier
- 21-08-2012, 12:56 #2117
At the moment (and fairly high up the list of things gripping me) is the perennial struggle to feed hungry mouths and find a better way of making a living! If it wasn't such a dull day in the office, I wouldn't be reading your posts (and that, BTW, is not a dig!).
As an aside , but coupled to your comments about Shakespeare, I trust you enjoyed the Hollow Crown series? I thought it was excellent.
- 21-08-2012, 13:16 #2118"As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her - her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye." Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier
- 21-08-2012, 14:05 #2119
- 21-08-2012, 15:43 #2120
I think that you have missed the points? Ho hum... No matter how infantile we go... It's a hopeless case chaps.
An adult with children who has no concept of down to Earth reality is not responsible for his condition. I blame the cult that has robbed him of his faculties. Drunk with mind altering dogma and trapped within an imaginary world of philosophical nonsence...it's not his fault.




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