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August 31st; Sunday. Bump into Anti-Market-Garden Mark on the street. He alerts me to Korean poet/word-artist who makes full use of big letters on the screen, with bebop & modern jazz sounds. Click items on list to enjoy the full impact of Young-Hae Chang Heavy Industries.

August 30th; Saturday. Useful summary about how Arabia's Saudi rulers, put in power by Britain and the US before the war, were nonetheless involved with extremist Islam from the outset while constantly bluffing us that they're serious about growing up.
August 29th; Friday. Yesterday Esoteric Veronica told me to make use of cosmic energy and seize the moment. Today, strangely tired by all that cosmic energy, I do a lot of sleeping. Hilariously, now emerges that saturated animal fat is in fact good for you and that the research evidence it wasn't never really stacked up.

August 28th; Thursday. Variation on the age-old couch/naked-girl/mirror theme. Horizontal self-assessment.
August 27th; Wednesday. Engineering Gabor tells me interesting stories about his past. Recent news that ISIS, or IS, or ISIL or whatever they're called beheaded some American journalist prompts (1) an uninvited proclamation by some British police officer claiming that watching the video is "illegal" and then (2) judgements that the beheading video is probably faked - most likely the reason for trying to bluff us out of watching it too often or closely.

August 26th; Tuesday. Return to Budapest. Chinese artist explains how to disable security cameras.
August 25th; Monday. Finish Esoteric Veronica's copy of a book by Roberto Assagioli that I've been meaning to read for many years since seeing it on Phelim's bookshelf: 'The Act of Will'. A curious book, this is a sort of superior self-help text, and the real action only starts in the appendices. One of these is headed by this powerful though clunkily phrased motto, presumably from Assagioli himself. "We are dominated by everything with which our self becomes identified. We can dominate, direct, and utilize everything from which we disidentify ourselves." His mission is to explain how - unlike the self-bludgeoning force of popular imagination - skilfully applied will is a subtle and sophisticated faculty which can be practised and developed.
+ Fascinating obituary of a French priest.

August 24th; Sunday. Sugary song. Salty song.
August 23rd; Saturday. Train out to Robin's, reaching a different station, Kunszentmarton, at ten o'clock at night. I read on the train and finish the same night his copy of 'Letters on Cezanne', a short set of collected letters by the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke. In these letters to his wife from 1907, Rilke hero-worships Van Gogh, describing him as a saint, and finds in Cezanne's struggle, his obsessive dedication to the difficult visual tasks he set himself, inspiration for his own poetic hopes. In some sections, there are fascinating glimpses of yearning and the imagining of other lives, moments all of us have had, but nicely caught here. As he walks past "little secondhand bookstores or places that sell copper engravings" he muses on a life owning a shop like that. "Ah, if only this were enough: Sometimes I dream of buying a full shop window like that and sitting down behind it with a dog for twenty years. In the evening there would be light in the back room, the front would be dark, and we would be sitting in back together, the three of us eating ---" By daytime he goes along other streets in Paris and "One of the gates was just about to close; a servant in his morning livery turned around again and looked at me carefully and thoughtfully. And at the same moment it seemed to me that it would have taken only a very slight shift in the pattern of things at some time in order for him to recognise me and step back and hold open the door. In order for an old lady to be up there, a grand'mere who would make it possible to receive her favourite grandson even at this early hour. With a smile, quite affectionate herself, the familiar lady's maid would carry out the order and lead the way through the draped suite of rooms, inwardly turned back and hurrying for sheer eagerness and uneasiness at having to walk ahead of me." There are a few inspired sentences about Cezanne's use of colour. However, the letters mostly convey the feeling of being young, unsure, intense - yet haunted by a mysterious source of elusive, sacred beauty tantalisingly just out of reach. And who hasn't also felt this?

August 22nd; Friday. Continuing muddle in the particle zoo.
August 21st; Thursday. Slightly smug little video explains how most of us will be unable to earn money very soon.
This plus yesterday's book brings back a ditty from Hilaire Belloc:
Lord Finchley tried to mend the Electric Light
himself. It struck him dead: And serve him right!
It is the
duty of the wealthy man
to give employment to the artisan.

August 20th; Wednesday. Finish a hardback book I found on Robin's shelves called 'Perfume from Provence' written in the 1930s by someone called Lady Fortescue, who left England back then to live in southern France. There are illustrations from E.H. Shepard of Winnie the Pooh fame. The book has all the way through a tone of gently flippant charm I recall from old Punch articles, and it was no surprise to find that Fortescue also wrote for Punch. There is an impressively understated bitter-sweet sting in the tail, all the more effective for being warned of in advance only by the quietest & sparsest of clues. Now condemned as "patronising", her tone is a wonderful glimpse of balanced confidence, affection, and fairness from before our age of bitter class-conscious snideness. Today's sneering British puritans cannot enjoy someone enjoying their Italian maid giggling with delight at her first ever sight of snow Because Rich Bastards Should Be Ashamed To Have Servants blah blah blah. (It's not fair that rich people can write skilfully & entertainingly, more like.) Whereas here, still surviving across a mere 3/4 of a century we have text like "In England we did know something of the naughty little ways of vegetables, their likes and dislikes, their moods and caprices, but in Provence apparently they are more profligate, their appetites grosser, and their passions stronger." or this section where the gardener Hilaire is chuckling with Madame about the ways of pigeons: "[Hilaire] tells me the papa pigeon is now making love to another woman, and I express intense indignation. I prefer faithful husbands and strongly object to such goings-on in my pigeon-cote. Hilaire laughs until he chokes: 'C'est la vie, Madame,' he gasps, 'et elle est belle, vous savez!' jerking a knowing thumb at the shameless flirt who is alienating the affections of the husband while his true wife is in child-bed." This prose has no need of gags, wisecracks, or clever remarks, accepting instead the humour & moods of the people she meets. The writing represents an entire view of life, full of happy zest and worldly-wise wit, braced by the hidden steel of self-restraint. A coy pretended innocence adds to the subtle flavour of this book, which on the surface looks so light and silly, but actually gleams with all the intelligent challenge of a twinkle in the eye. A kindly poker face, no less sharp. The chapter about the cars and vehicles of her or neighbours (all given pet names) is wonderful, and she explains sadly that their new car is delightful in all other respects, but unfortunately this vehicle is also a snob, only running smoothly on trips down to smart seafronts on the Cote d'Azur.
Monsieur Pierre, the bee-keeper, explains to our patient but attentive narrator the doings of the honey-makers. "--- he told me that a friend of his imported queen bees from Germany, Egypt, England, and America. The German bees, he told me, always work overtime, and fill the cells of the comb so full of honey that it reaches and permeates the outer wax, thus spoiling the look of the sections, so that they cannot be exhibited. The Egyptian bees work well, but are fierce and uncertain of temper - mefiez-vous! The English bees work well, but only for a certain number of hours ; and the American bees are brilliant but erratic, sometimes working feverishly, and sometimes taking a day off.
Extraordinary, I thought, that bees should have absorbed the characteristics of their countries."
August 19th; Tuesday. Southern belle says 90% of all men should die soon.

August 18th; Monday. A couple of nights ago - when discussing plans to watch 'Jackie Brown' (adapted from an Elmore Leonard thriller) and also mulling over old films starring the recently dead Robin Williams, Robin & I briefly talk about writing. We contrasted the Dead Poets Society scene where the Williams teacher character tells the boys how to write, stating (my paraphrase) "Never say 'very' - you are not "very tired", you are 'exhausted', you are not 'very something' you are 'something else' etc", with the famous Elmore Leonard instruction to aspiring authors to "always use 'said' and 'says', never 'exclaimed, remarked, whispered, rejoined' etc". Leonard was a writer who (unlike Hemingway) really did get out of the way of his stories. Like a good typographer choosing a typeface readers don't notice. Whereas Hemingway advocated that goal, but in fact wrote with a swaggering, showy lack of ostentation. Not that Leonard was necessarily right, of course, but in a way he was the kind of writer Hemingway claimed to be.
Robin sees me off at Lakitelek railway station around midday. Back on Friday, the rock-chick bar-girl at the recently-reopened Kecskemet railway station cafeteria was on duty when I bought a sandwich and an espresso off her. Unlike last time, she had a high-necked top on. I asked if she is going to tell me what the paragraph of very squiggly italic writing across her shoulder blades I saw last week says. No, she says too calmly to be coquettish, though she tosses her bob of blonde hair a little while holding my gaze and smiling. What language is it in? I ask. English? Yes, English, she says. Then she casually promises that next time I'm in the station and she again has a low-cut dress on she'll let me read the tattoo across her upper back.
August 17th; Sunday. Robin, Bela, & I watch (in my case rewatch, though it's been a few years) Quentin Tarantino's 'Jackie Brown'. Coincidentally this is, like last night, another film about a seemingly vulnerable woman forced to improvise and survive in a world of ruthless male violence. Here's a still image with song from one of the 1970s blaxploitation films Tarantino admired during his years working nights at the video-rental store, starring the then-young Pam Grier, the actress he then recast for the leading role in this late 1990s film. Here's the start to the 1970s film Tarantino took the opening music from. Even the final scene of 'Jackie Brown', loaded with doubt, ambiguous regret, and suppressed desire, is strangely reminiscent of the close of 'Nikita' last night.

August 16th; Saturday. In the evening when asked, Robin casually mentions his first reaction on hearing that the American actor & comedian Robin Williams had killed himself this week was that he'd done it because he knew he wasn't very funny. We agree that although he was clearly a sweet-natured person, his acting & comedy weren't that good, something watching a few minutes of his stand-up act (both of us it turns out have watched Williams talking about golf in a Scots accent) really clarified. Robin pauses thoughtfully and then describes how something about the actor always made him want to squirm with embarrassment, how he seemed to trying very hard for effect the whole time. We try to think of films we've seen him in. I mention finding 'Good Morning Vietnam' vaguely annoying since it depicts a non-combatant radio DJ on an army base as a rebellious hero, and Robin says he found 'Dead Poets Society' quite a good film, adding though that any good actor would have been memorable playing that role. I mention finding some old photographs on the internet of Williams as a mime artist in Central Park, New York, in his twenties, and Robin murmurs in a faraway voice that explains a lot. How? I ask. His simple reply is that a background in mime might be why Williams constantly seemed to have to semaphore everything with his whole face and body, as if always afraid the jokes wouldn't work without extra help.
Later on the two of us watch Luc Besson's 1990 original of the much-copied and remade film 'Nikita' which Robin has never seen, and which while watching I start to think I never saw all the way through first time. Astonished, I see the whole thing afresh. Why did this film fascinate so many people? Why was it remade by the Americans, copied in slavish detail, and then turned into a series - what raw nerve does it touch? It's Rousseau's study of the ideal upbringing of a child, crossed with Rousseau's vision of a state that enacts the will of the people. It's the description of a woman being remade into a masculine figure, a sniper, by a society that believes - as do socialists and all true children of the French Revolution - that personalities are not innate but can be redesigned by the group. Nikita, the expressive wild child filled with rebellious energy, has to be channelled away from hate-filled, anarchic violence and reshaped to enact the clinical bureaucratic aims (focused, controlled, government-sanctioned violence) of the ideal state. A chaotic free agent being changed into a precise instrument of the collective will. Yet even after her training a powerful naivete shines through. The lover she meets is tender, modest, affectionate, and he sees this softer, more feminine side in her. The love affair with him is the counterpull of romance (and comforting bourgeois normality) against the dark glamour of the faceless, opaque, all-knowing state that trains and employs her to kill. The tragicomic scene in Venice where her boyfriend is sweetly negotiating with her hysterical feminine tantrum through a locked bathroom door while in fact she is, machinelike, about to execute an almost anonymous target - unknown even to her controller - with a telescopic rifle, encapsulates the contradictions of the film. The pro-feminist New Man, gentle and emotionally attuned, cooks for her and soothes her mysterious-work-related moodiness, while she struggles to allow her emotions to resurface from beneath her trained coolness, or else to push them back down below. Two men representing two aspects of modern republican France confront each other at the end of the film, puzzled, wrily amused at themselves, and ultimately unreconciled although both courteous and civilised. Both of the characters in the final scene have an emotional, romantic side and yet coldly rational, ruthless officialdom (whether efficient or dangerously clumsy) still keeps control of the story.
August 15th; Friday. Take train to countryside. On the train I finish an odd short booklet, barely 45 pages long, called 'The Prague Loreto' by Marketa Bastova & Teresie Cvachova, translated into English by Kathleen Hayes. This is my first proper introduction to the curious Catholic idea of a 'Loreto', modelled on the house the Virgin Mary lived in, which was supposedly disassembled in the Holy Land during one of the Crusades and then shipped to Italy and rebuilt in a town called Loreto. It seems that replicas of the Santa Casa, copied down to the smallest detail, were also rebuilt - or built - in other cities in Europe, including Prague, as centres for pilgrims wishing to meditate on the holy mysteries of Christ's life. This booklet explains the various architectural and artistic treasures of this Marian site, including the several adjoining chapels. It ends with a litany.

August 14th; Thursday. Esoteric Veronica imparts important advice.
August 13th; Wednesday. Engineering Gabor, back from his trip to London with Psychology Eszter, identifies my bracelet of wooden crosses threaded on black cord as not just a Catholic rosary (each cord knot an Our Father+ and each cross a Hail Mary+) but (although from a Croat island Robin & family visited) a rosary in a style common at the Bosnian Marian shrine inland at Medjugorje. I dimly recall a very cheerful middle-aged Hungarian man years ago who briefly employed me. He told me of his work in the 1980s and early 90s organising busloads of Hungarian pilgrims to travel down to the northern Yugoslav town in hope of seeing visions of Mary. He claimed he did all this on a red rotary-dial fixed-line phone which repeatedly went dead because the 1980s communist authorities didn't like his Catholic proselytising.

August 12th; Tuesday. Train back to Budapest after some relaxed chatting about life over coffee in sunny Kecskemet with Bela & Robin. Here's an excellent interview with Josh Kaufman about learning any skill. American can-do attitude at its finest.
August 11th; Monday. Since on Saturday night arriving upstairs inside the studio I was buzzed by swallows in the dark, have slept last 2 nights in the library in the main house again. Midges encouraged by recent rain have been nibbling on me during sleep, but uncannily only the right arm is bitten. I assume the bracelet of wooden crosses on my left wrist has some kind of oil or scent midges dislike. I sniff the wooden crosses (oddly resembling Robin's crosses of dried clay, like Greek crosses but with the 4 arms trimmed back to 3/4 length) and they seem to have a very faint perfume - how I imagine rosewood might smell if I actually knew different woods.

August 10th; Sunday. Target achieved: social-media reach pledged by deadline. Victory is close, citizens.
August 9th; Saturday. Drive to countryside with Robin & Bela. After their family holiday on a Croatian island, the children brought me back a bookmark with a cheery sun & moon on it, and a bracelet of chunky wooden crosses knotted together by black cord. The bracelet ends in a tiny oval-shaped tag illustrating probably Jesus next to miniscule letters spelling out 'Lourdes'.

August 8th; Friday. Much #tweeting & #posting.
August 7th; Thursday. Getting close to our target at the HeadTalker social-media project. Join us, citizens!

August 6th; Wednesday. Pretending to be in love makes you really fall in love?
August 5th; Tuesday. Revisit the gym with custard-yellow-painted brick walls, foolishly taking along my yellow towel instead of the orange one. The weight-training machines have synthetic cushions of exactly the same shade of tired lemon as my towel so that at a distance I'm unable to see where in the room my towel is. It's crowded tonight with perhaps 15 people milling about. Four separate pert honeys at different machines or mats each have a bull-shaped man crouching nearby murmuring instructions and adjustments to the girl's movements with a kind of gruff tenderness. One curious scene catches my eye because I'm nearby. A tanned, taut-looking girl in her 20s who has dyed her hair platinum & grey to emphasise she isn't old yet is lying on her back on a mat holding a 25-kilogram disc of iron across her stomach with one hand. She is thrusting up with her hips, raising them from the mat with the extra load of the free weight, and her Taurean Muscle Guide very slowly puts one foot onto the weight and presses down quite gently with part of his weight. He chuckles, someone else laughs, she grins and shows her strength by arching her back and pushing back against his force, holding her hips off the floor for a good 10 seconds until he takes his foot off the 25kg weight. An odd moment, somehow referring to both sex and childbirth.

August 4th; Monday. 2 pieces about education: a/ Sweden messes up education vouchers by using Milton Friedman's proposal but changing it, b/ A New Yorker article ponders whether elite universities should teach technical expertise or something else.
August 3rd; Sunday. Gaining traction with the crowd-funding countdown. A curious book review which becomes one left-winger reminiscing about another left-winger. Part affectionate, part spiteful, the essay ends poignantly. Note the glint of steel near the close: "Nor did I say anything about hundreds of years of odious British aristocracy."

August 2nd; Saturday. Three interesting reflections on masculinity:
1/ One commentator says the German working class never stopped opposing the First World War.
2/ A curious, very American, attempt to explain 200 years in terms of mostly male generational cycles.
3/ A vigorous Russian rural man tells ducks what to do.
August 1st; Friday. Microbes that live off electric charge ; an engraving that supposedly shows a young Adolf Hitler playing chess with an older Vladimir Lenin ; ISIS again - a careful look at Saudi funding for the new extremist entity.

Recent weblog entries continued:

Who can translate the next 300 words into Korean or Hindi? Contact us and there will be revelry.

Languages dying out each week - who cares?

We do - otherlanguages.org is gradually building a reference resource for over five thousand linguistic minorities and stateless languages worldwide.

Thousands of unique language communities are becoming extinct. Out of the world's five to six thousand languages, we hardly know what we're losing, what literatures, philosophies, ways of thinking, are disappearing right now.


We may soon regret the extinction of thousands of entire linguistic cultures even more than we regret the needless extinction of many animals and plants.

The planet is increasingly dominated by a handful of major-language monocultures like Mandarin Chinese, Hindi, Arabic, Indonesian, Urdu, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Swahili, Russian, Cantonese Chinese, Japanese, Bengali - all beautiful and fascinating languages.

But so are the 5,000 others.

These are groups of people?

Linguistic minorities are communities of ordinary people whose native tongue is not their country's main official language. Swedish speakers in Finland, French speakers in Canada, Hungarian speakers in Slovakia - and hundreds more - are linguistic minorities.

And totally stateless languages are the native languages of some of the world's most intriguing, little-known, cultures. Like the Lapps inside the Arctic Circle, the Sards in Sardinia, Ainus in Japan. Cherokee in the US, Scots Gaelic in Britain, Friesian in the Netherlands, Zulu in South Africa. There are only a couple of hundred recognised sovereign states and territories, so 5,000 languages - more depending on how you count - are the native tongues of linguistically stateless people.

How could I help?

You don't need to learn an endangered language - any more than go to live in the rainforest to help slow its destruction.

A good start is to just tell friends about websites like this.

Broader public interest makes it easier for linguists to raise funds and organise people to learn these languages while there's time.

That's right. There are people who love languages and are happy to learn them on behalf of the rest of us, but they need support, just like zoologists, botanists, or historians.

Fewer languages still sounds good to me

Depends what you think languages are for. They're not just a tool for business. We never said you should learn three or four thousand rare languages - or even one. And which ones we make children learn in school, or whether we should force children to learn languages at all, is another question.

Typical scene in a European city; Chances are, folk here speak some sort of foreign language *5

A century ago - before we understood ecology, and when we cared less about wilderness, most educated people would have laughed at the idea of worrying about plants or animals going extinct. Now we understand how important species diversity is for our own futures, we are more humble, and more worried.

In the same way, linguistic triumphalism by English-speakers who hated studying foreign grammar at school is dangerously ignorant as well as arrogant. Few of us know what we are losing, week by week. How many people realise these languages have scientific value?

Scientific value?

You can think of these languages across the planet as beautiful cathedrals or precious archeological sites we are watching being destroyed. That should be motive enough.

But these five thousand languages may also hold clues to the structure of the human mind. Subtle differences and similarities

Wireless radio can be a great comfort to those unable to leave the textbooks in which they live *6
between languages are helping archeologists and anthropologists to understand what happened in the hundreds of centuries of human history before written history. And that is one of our best chances of understanding how human brains developed over the thousands of centuries leading up to that.

Study of the mind and study of language go hand in hand these days. The world's most marginal languages are actually precious jigsaw pieces from an overall picture of who we are and how our species thinks and evolves. Every tiny language adds another brightly-coloured clue to this academic detective story.

Yet researchers have hardly started sifting through this tantalising evidence, and language extinction is washing it away right in front of us.

And worst of all, most people have no idea that there is this fantastic profusion of cultures across our world, let alone that they are in danger of extinction. Even just more people learning that there are still five thousand living languages in the world today (most of us would answer five hundred or fifty) is already a huge help.

We English-speakers hardly notice English - it's like air for us. But every other language is also an atmosphere for an entire cultural world, and each of these worlds has people whose home it is. Each language encapsulates a unique way of talking and thinking about life. Just try some time in a foreign prison, being forced to cope in another language, and you'll realise how much your own language is your identity. That's true for everyone.

Minority languages are a human-rights issue?

One of the most basic.

Dozens of millions of people worldwide suffer persecution from national governments for speaking their mother tongue - in their own motherland.

Many 'ethnic' feuds puzzling to outsiders had as their basis an attempt to destroy a linguistic community. Would the Northern Ireland dispute be quite so bitter if we English had not so nearly stamped out the Irish Gaelic language, for example? Almost nowhere in the world does a language community as small as the few thousand Rheto-Romanic speakers - the fourth official language of Switzerland - get the protection of a national government. Next time you see some Swiss Francs, check both sides of the banknote.

But outside exceptional countries like Switzerland or the Netherlands, speakers of non-official languages have a much less protected experience.

Speakers of minority languages are often seen as a threat by both the governments and the other residents of the countries where they were born, grew up, and try to live ordinary lives.

They experience discrimination in the job and education markets of their homelands, often having no choice but to pursue education in the major language of the host state: a deliberate government policy usually aimed at gradually absorbing them into the majority culture of that country.

Mighty oaks from tiny acorns grow, of course *7

Most governments are privately gleeful each time another small separate culture within their borders is snuffed out by a dwindling population or a deliberately centralising education system.

The United Nations is no help. It is an association of a couple of hundred sovereign states based on exclusive control of territory, almost all of them anxious to smother any distinct group or tradition that in any way might blur or smudge the hard-won borders around those pieces of territory.

The usual approach by sovereign states is to deny their linguistic minorities even exist.


Mark Griffith, site administrator / contact at otherlanguages.org

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*1 image from , with thanks
*2 "Al-Araby" in written Arabic (read more)
*3 "What?" in American Sign Language; image from , with thanks
*4 "Big" in written Chinese  (read more); image from , with thanks
*5 image from , with thanks
*6 image from , with thanks
*7 image from 'B?ume', with thanks to  Bruno P. Kramer, and Franckh-Kosmos Verlag


.languages of the world
.Internet free speech
.weights & measures
.5000 English words
.2000+ Chinese char.s
.persian/english dictionary
.currency rates 1 2 3 4 5

other web diaries:

.a political refugee from the global village
.enigmatic mermaid
.rainy day
.diaries abroad
.samuel pepys

also useful:

.country domain names
.language-learning 1 2
.find old websites
.fine HTML tutorial
.minimalist websites

reviews: ................. books {...or films here}

1 metrologie historique
2 postmodernism & the other
3 disaster (news on sunday)
4 money unmade (russian barter in the 1990s)
5 the sleepwalkers
6 e
7 the kruschev era
8 the end of science
9 don't you want me?
10 the carpet wars
11 zelator
12 life of thomas more
13 faber book of science
14 gilgamesh
15 out of it
16 guns, germs & steel
17 words & rules
18 figure in the landscape
19 life without genes
20 bede's history of the english
21 the nothing that is
22 zoology
23 journey by moonlight
24 heavenly serbia
25 ratkay endre
26 the handmaid's tale
27 the selective eye
28 a megismerese epitokovei
29 intention
30 thirty nine steps
31 princess
32 the pyramids
33 the etruscans
34 moonchild
35 paradise news
36 culture of time & space 1880 to 1918
37 szimmetria
38 babel orokeben
39 astro-archeology
40 a history of islamic spain
41 high gothic
42 among the believers
43 the renaissance
44 augustine
45 mcvicar
46 atomised
47 tangled wing
48 da vinci code
49 nature via nurture
50 termeszet szamai
51 decline & fall of roman empire
52 practical cheesemaking
53 the sufis
54 fra angelico at san marco
55 the cryptographer
56 they have a word for it
57 szamok valosan innen & tul
58 artistic theory in italy 1450 to 1600
59 darwin's black box
60 indiai ejszaka
61 cleopatra: histories, dreams & distortions
63 what mad pursuit
64 language, the learner & the school
65 writing the romantic comedy
66 the blank slate
67 dougal & the blue cat
68 diego velasquez
69 horse nonsense
70 a certain chemistry
71 deterring democracy
72 textiles
73 thief of time
74 bloodsucking fiends
75 right ho, jeeves
76 generativ grammatika
77 1st time i got paid for it
78 galapagos
79 othello
80 understanding media
81 mysticism
82 short history of french literature
83 best on the market
84 art of seeing
85 culture & imperialism
86 food of the gods
87 arabic-islamic cities
88 the alchemist
89 verbal learning & memory
90 building a successful software business
91 don't make me think!
92 memory
93 the u.s. & the arab world
94 hard times
95 spells for teenage witches
97 the pig that wants to be eaten
98 encyclopaedia of stupidity
99 seventy eight degrees of wisdom: part i
100 beach watching
101 the ancient greeks
102 brainstorms
103 seventy eight degrees of wisdom: part ii
104 utopia
105 technical writing for engineers & scientists
106 alphabet versus goddess
107 writing on drugs
108 news from somewhere
109 isp survival guide
110 petrus hispanus mester logikajabol
111 art of seduction
112 stet
113 penguin by design
114 the sense of being stared at
115 the golden ratio
116 dinamikus emlekezet
117 margins of reality
118 hopjoy was here
119 bump in the night
120 box of delights
121 color atlas of immunology
122 fashionistas
123 pi in the sky
124 a new kind of fool
125 one man's meat
126 greek fire
127 the buddha in daily life
128 beginner's dutch
129 private life of the brain
130 solar ethics
131 pedant in the kitchen
132 knots
133 the planets within
134 encyclopaedia of ancient & mediaeval history
135 consilience
136 the age of scandal
137 fashion: the 20th century
138 the tipping point
139 design literacy
140 the silent partner
141 hamlet
142 1421
143 the 1890s
144 godel's proof
145 rosencrantz & guildenstern are dead
146 beyond reason
147 little book of music theory
148 q-basic
149 alone of all her sex
150 social studies
151 eternal darkness
152 drawn from memory
154 a guide to elegance
155 medea & other plays
156 the future of money
157 cheese
158 grammars of creation
159 aquarian conspiracy
160 the climate crisis
161 true fiction
162 the making of memory
163 why most things fail
164 genetikai abece
165 finding fulfilment
166 genome
167 the broken estate
168 inigo jones
169 flashman & the dragon
170 from bauhaus to our house
171 100 great paintings
172 kis spanyol nyelvtan
173 the historian
174 tomorrow's gold
175 charting made easy
176 life after life
177 spanyol igei vonzatok
178 the eclipse of art
179 fire in the mind
180 the human body
181 out of control
182 possession
183 simplified chinese characters
184 the generation of 1914
185 intellectuals
186 world of late antiquity
187 riddle & knight
188 informacio kultusza
189 napoleon of notting hill
190 secrets: palm-reading
191 meet yourself as you really are
192 cat's abc
193 intro to spanish poetry
194 rise of christian europe
195 philip's guide to electric living
196 sins for father knox
197 celtic twilight
198 myths of love
199 snobbery with violence
200 just like tomorrow
201 7 basic plots
202 experiment with time
203 vile bodies
204 icons & images: 60s
205 fisher king
206 new jerusalem
207 born on a blue day
208 surveillir & punir
209 trial of socrates
210 how to catch fairies
211 conversations on consciousness
212 mind performance hacks
213 conscience of the eye
214 beau brummell
215 evolution
216 the outsider
217 raja yoga
218 rise of political lying
219 occidentalism
220 colossus
221 secret teachings of jesus
222 blue murder
223 nostrodamus the next 50 years
224 homage to catalonia
225 charity ends at home
226 palace of dreams
227 discovering book collecting
228 beyond the outsider
229 the last barrier
230 that hideous strength
231 indian sculpture
232 small world
233 evolution & healing
234 in search of memory
235 campo santo
236 llewellyn's 2007 tarot reader
237 dream of rome
238 why buildings fall down
239 the empty space
240 england made me
241 greek science in antiquity
242 science, a l'usage des non-scientifiques
243 utmutato tarot
243 hunt for zero point
244 william wilberforce
245 viktor schauberger
246 untouchable
247 the vitamin murders
248 straw dogs
249 elizabeth's spymaster
250 the hard life
251 the god delusion
252 the intellectual
253 undercover economist
254 quirkology
255 chasing mammon
256 early mesopotamia & iran
257 the strange death of david kelly
258 the pilgrimage
259 origin of wealth
260 maxims
261 the finishing school
262 the shepherd's calendar
263 islamic patterns
264 lost world of the kalahari
265 german short stories 1
266 electricity
267 liber null & psychonaut
268 born to rebel
269 wittgenstein's poker
270 will the boat sink the water?
271 romeo & juliet
272 why beautiful people have more daughters
273 the crossing place
274 the turkish diplomat's daughter
275 missionary position
276 lust in translation
277 teaching as a subversive activity
278 how german is it
279 empires of the word
280 warped passages
281 the power of now
282 ponder on this
283 sword of no-sword
284 narcissism
285 blink
286 shock of the old
287 basque history of the world
288 truth: a guide
289 who shot jfk?
290 newtonian casino
291 power & greed
292 the world without us
293 5-minute nlp
294 concise guide to alchemy
295 evidence in camera
296 4-hour work week
297 the rosicrucian enlightenment
298 de-architecture
299 how to lie with maps
300 a book of english essays
301 a time of gifts
302 the occult philosophy in the elizabethan age
303 le pelerinage des bateleurs
304 alchemy & alchemists
305 greenmantle
306 the hero with 1000 faces
307 goethe's parable
308 rhedeyek es fraterek
309 letter to a christian nation
310 the tryst
311 7 experiments that could change the world
312 mill on the floss
313 metastases of enjoyment
314 the isles
315 between the woods and the water
316 secrets of the great pyramid
317 life in the french country house
318 the china study
319 tarot: theory & practice
320 the roger scruton reader
321 alchemy & mysticism
322 picasso's mask
323 the rule of four
324 triumph of the political class
325 arts of darkness
326 neuroscience & philosophy
327 the art of memory
328 mind wide open
329 mud, blood, & poppycock
330 society of the spectacle
331 lila
332 de imaginibus
333 electronics
334 giordano bruno & the embassy affair
335 temporary autonomous zone
336 the human touch
337 the fascination of evil
338 the king of oil
339 dowsing
340 the book of j
341 the west and the rest
342 story of my life
343 plain tales from the hills
344 under the influence
345 modern culture
346 50 mots clefs d'esoterisme
347 giordano bruno & the hermetic tradition
348 development, geography & economic theory
349 das kapital: a biography
350 strange days indeed
351 hegel: a very short introduction
352 reflections on the revolution in france
353 history of sexuality: an introduction
354 why we buy
355 origins of virtue
356 the holographic universe
357 a dead man in deptford
358 obsolete
359 137
360 in your face
361 7 spies who changed the world
362 the noetic universe
363 why beauty is truth
364 imagery in healing
365 the craftsman's handbook
366 futurism
367 in the cards
368 dmso
369 les hommes et leurs genes
370 the franchise affair
371 the decision book
372 les harmonies de la nature a l'epreuve de la biologie
373 kibernetika
374 zuleika dobson
375 l'empire de numbers
376 circus philosophicus
377 some girls
378 number
379 island
380 how to get your ideas adopted
381 drive
382 emergence
383 rfid : la police totale
384 the tempest
385 aspects of wagner
386 view over atlantis
387 world atlas of mysteries
388 art of the dogon
389 genesis machines
390 the sirius mystery
391 the cult of the fact
392 anastasia
393 ringing cedars of russia
394 a whiff of death
395 spirit level delusion
396 wavewatcher's companion
397 the kybalion
398 elegance
399 death in a scarlet coat
400 architecture without architects


1 k-pax
2 very annie mary
3 wasabi
4 gosford park
5 arany varos
6 minority report
7 amelie
8 bridget jones' diary
9 arccal a fo:ldnek
10 monsters' ball
11 cube
12 man with no past
13 talk to her
14 szerelemtol sujtva
15 bowling for columbine
16 matrix3
17 zoolander
18 anything else
19 farenheit 9/11
20 8 & 1/2 women
21 madagascar
22 kill bill 1
23 dude, where's my car?
24 the woman in green
25 the hunger
24 nightwatch
25 de battre son coeur s'est arrete
26 wicker man
27 v for vendetta
28 courage the cowardly dog
29 casino royale
30 power of nightmares
31 charlie's angels
32 full throttle
33 foxy brown
34 paths of glory
35 airplane
36 between iraq & a hard place
37 mutiny on the bounty
38 flashmob the opera
39 octopussy
40 bakkerman
41 kiterunner


July 31st; Thursday. How motor cars imagine themselves.
July 30th; Wednesday. A lovely review by Dave Barry of the bondage-bestseller '50 Shades of Grey'.

July 29th; Tuesday. Hot sticky weather, cold baths. Interesting two-part article on US policy towards Haiti just before the First World War : part 1 / part 2. Revealing to read what Woodrow Wilson and the young Franklin D. Roosevelt were doing in the Caribbean while lecturing European imperialists over 'self-determination of peoples' and 'the century of the common man'. Especially intriguingly, this episode concerns the partial re-enslavement of the world's only country where African slaves had successfully rebelled and set up an independent government.
July 28th; Monday. Hot sticky weather, cold baths. Fine undersea cable map.

July 27th; Sunday. Hot sticky weather, cold baths. Finding paper industry blogs.
July 26th; Saturday. Hot sticky weather, cold baths. Finding paper craft blogs.

July 25th; Friday. Hot sticky weather, cold baths. Finding paper recycling blogs.
July 24th; Thursday. Thanks to a kind friend, finally get to watch 1970s movie '3 Days of the Condor'. I'd spoilt it for myself a bit by watching a few clips on Youtube over the last two years, but finally saw this Sydney Pollack paranoia film all the way through in the right order. The theme music oddly overlays restrained funk guitar with a still-eerie zither-like tune. Perhaps harking back to the cymbalom music of The Third Man in the 1940s, nasal, twangly, Balkan/Turkish instruments & musical keys from Mitteleuropa lingering on as the musical code for 'spy movie' even half a century after the vanishing of the Habsburg and Ottoman east. In terms of more recent fashions, Condor is probably the last major film where phone phreaking, rather than computer hacking, was the state of the art covert-comms thing you could do, and perhaps also the last major American film with a romantic farewell at a railway station. The tension is nicely calculated. For once the CIA non-field-agent hero on the run from his own agency is persuasively poised between being ridiculously skilful and engagingly amateurish. Robert Redford as the accidental renegade ('Condor') is also of course a good romantic lead, romance blossoming with his photographer hostage-cum-protector, played by Faye Dunaway. The oddly coy references to her "other photographs" now seem more dated than the rotary phones (though they might have been right and we might be wrong), but she acts the part of a woman falling in love with her handsome abductor convincingly. The climax is a set of four farewells: with her, with the freelance American, with the freelance European, and with the official American. Out of these the Alsace-Lorraine hit man Gilbert acted by Max von Sydow is really the most memorable character of all. Seeming utterly cold, he is nonetheless the only person who keeps his own sense of honour fully intact, and his martial chivalry towards Redford/Condor is both chilling and strangely hopeful. Representative of the alien smoothness of European politics, the hired assassin who is neither French nor German symbolises all that horrifies but fascinates a 1970s American about the old continent. All the US characters - his emergency lover, the bureau chief, his colleagues - to some extent abandon Condor or lie to him. Yet it is the most frightening character, the calm collected Continental, politely intrigued by the amateur's resourcefulness, who alone offers him a job and kindly advice for a new life. Mind you, Gilbert does this with such courtesy and quiet understatement it's not clear that the Redford character or the audience even notice. Rarely do you see an American hero's patriotic desire to stay in the USA cast into such doubt as at the end of this film: American openness harshly tested against the spook code of never trust anyone. Unusually in cinema, the spy's lonely vision of life has the last word.

July 23rd; Wednesday. A political painting.
July 22nd; Tuesday. Buying a can of caffeine energy drink in a supermarket I notice something odd has changed in the last few months. Caffeine content the same, same vitamins are still in them, but now not a single brand contains taurine. Every type used to have have exactly the same amount of taurine in, now none have any. Some health risk? Dreary rain gets kind Esoteric Veronica to lend me an Erima umbrella. She says the brand has historical links to fellow German sportswear firm Adidas.

July 21st; Monday. Solero the horse is very social, and - when roaming free in Robin's garden most of the day - often strolls over to see what the humans are doing. Or at least if we might give him a biscuit or an apple. Outside Lacko & Joli's kitchen yesterday I came on a complete tableau of animals seemingly grouped together for a portrait: the horse, the two shaggy white komondor sheepdogs (mother & daughter), the fox terrier Lexi, Poppy the cat and a new pale grey kitten of Poppy's. They all seem to find Joli's kitchen door a good meeting place. Today Bela & I watch the glossy chestnut Solero rolling on his back in the dust, presumably against flies, and Bela points out two small grey patches halfway up the insides of the horse's front legs. We guess these must be the location of residual digits (perhaps corresponding to our thumbs) on the front feet. More people realise the heavenly bodies influence us after all, and more comment on the sudden dearth of sunspots. By night I come back to Budapest on the train, in a carriage with all empty compartments, and with only the corridor lights on to my left and the window full down on the right, the almost-cool night air after a day of heat barrels in and out of my shadowy compartment every second. There's an intense sense of the train hurtling down the track towards the capital city, plunging through dark areas, rippling past tiny areas of lights, racing & rattling through black woods & copses along the track, the moon hidden. Looking at brown & reddish leather upholstery in the darkness, passing lamps flickering over it, feel strongly this compartment is a living fossil of the horse-drawn stagecoach, since early trains were small numbers of stagecoaches on steel wheels joined end to end. For another hundred (150?) years many trains had compartments seating 8 or 10 people only with doors straight out onto platforms on either side, and no corridor. This mostly unlit one with compartments and a side corridor is the final version before the open carriage of one room the length of the vehicle. As we speed towards the outskirts of town, distant clumps of orange lights moving away more slowly near the horizon signal the dark land slowly filling up with people as we hammer on down the rails, rushing through stranded suburbs, more patches of farmland, villages hemmed in closer to town, more and more squat industrial buildings flit by. I sit without turning the light on, without chatting or reading, without walking up or down the train, relishing the massive breeze and the pure experience of travelling fast across open country by night. Strange to see how right Pascal was though: many people would rather experience electric shocks than sit and think - or just be.
July 20th; Sunday. Do a couple of English lessons with Szende, who shares the slightly grand-sounding darker Transylvanian vowels of Lacko (her godfather) and Joli. Meanwhile, one researcher thinks he understands what triggers earthquakes (the moon), and has named likely dates for future tremors.

July 19th; Saturday. Take train into the countryside. Robin, Bela, & Constantine pick me up at Lakitelek, still a sad, bleak-looking station after they chopped that old tree down. Here's a snatch of old television, with Oscar Peterson genially explaining some jazz-piano techniques.
July 18th; Friday. Finally, after many delays, our #crowdfunding launch goes live & multilingual. Spread the word, citizens!

July 17th; Thursday. The first day in almost 3 years when our sun showed not a single sunspot, announces the spaceweather website. Finish Robin's sons' copy of the oddly topical 'Looking At Pictures With Rolf Harris' (A Children's Introduction to Famous Paintings). This is surprisingly well-written with a good choice of paintings from many eras - at least the book is "oddly topical" if you think his recent conviction for child-sex offences was safe. Paintings by Georges de la Tour, Paolo Uccello, and Van Eyck sit alongside 1960s Pop Art, Picasso, and David Hockney's portrait of Ozzy Clark or a Bridget Riley Op Art piece. Harris keeps the text readable, brief, but not patronising. On each page he mentions 2 or 3 crucial details or questions that will make readers look more closely at each picture - the main point of the book after all.
Whoever needs to shift out of depressed & glum into anxious & irritable, music-producer duo Plaid is here to help you: Unbank / New Family / and of course - with the infamous 'PowerPoint' video - Itsu.
July 16th; Wednesday. A whole LP of 1960s West Coast garage from the sometimes neglected 13th Floor Elevators: note their use of a curious cooing-pigeon sound effect on several tracks. Then Finnish funkster Jimi Tenor's eerie take on the romantic ballad: The uplifting but strangely abstract Higher Planes, the ecstatically mellow yet definitely odd My Mind, and the blissed-out, self-parodic Barcelona Sunrise {"If I was not your friend, I would hesitate to tell you 'Girl, you've got stars stuck in your teeth'"}. The secret is, I think, that unlike the official code that creativity should serve the higher good of romantic love, our Jimi's romantic love seems to selfishly serve his creativity. He doesn't make music to court women, he courts women (or people) as a way to feed his music. Narcissistic perhaps, but gives his tunes their uncannily weightless, free sound.

July 15th; Tuesday. Back to Budapest with Robin & Kasper. A third striking Tarot spread, this time with reversed four of wands. Some French-flavoured studio loop music from Guts: Come Closer / Laissez Lucie Faire. Separately, a careful attack on all the guilty verdicts for Rolf Harris. Well worth reading.
July 14th; Monday. Thunder clouds over Robin's house as men come to move a telegraph pole. Join Robin for a brief drive to a neighbouring village for motor oil. At one point we are headed down a straight road right into the arc of a large symmetrical rainbow, both ends landing in the flatness of the Great Plain against the lead-grey sky of dusk. Robin is reminded of autumn in Wales, the year before last, when one end of a rainbow appeared to land right by him, literally in a field next door. This is an hour after finishing Esoteric Veronica's copy of 'Sex, Ecology, Spirituality' by American thinker Ken Wilber in the dark of a storm-ready late afternoon. Although this is an admirable grand sweep across most of the major philosophers of the last 25 centuries (Wilber admires Habermas but is by no means limited to him, reserving special praise for Plotinus and Augustine), something goes wrong on page 160. This is where Wilber describes Habermas locating the birth of fatherhood as a primeval event joining male hunting groups to female foraging and mothering groups for the first time: a faint but worryingly unreformed echo of the Hobbes/Rousseau mistake of imagining early humans as solitary, coming together at some prehistoric moment to make the original social contract forming the first society. We now know this to be a complete mistake, since humans, and primates before us, have always lived in small clans or large family groups. The seemingly milder Habermas caveman "moment" of change is another way to overlook or sidestep the very persuasive arguments of evolutionary psychology for how men & women negotiated and still negotiate their roles on the basis of genetic & material interests, not on the basis of some symbolic historic settlement. From here on in, Wilber's cunning use of a quadrant diagram of 'holons' (roughly translating as levels) to reintegrate the visions of an objective 'It' (the rational domain of natural science) a socially mediated 'We' (the domain of ethics) and the subjective 'I' (the 'inner' world of subjective experience) constantly looks promising but never quite delivers. Wilber lays out with beautiful clarity how many others devise lists giving layers of experience but confuse themselves (such as assuming that life is subsumed under thought instead of thought subsumed under life, etc). He addresses ecological and feminist thinkers on both sides of what he calls the 'Eco versus Ego' divide with wonderful clear-mindedness. Yet ultimately Wilber's scheme (to reintegrate the 'Ascending' and 'Descending' visions of cosmic harmony) looks like just another conjuring trick designed to reunite what has been so firmly cut apart - the Descending aspect of the categories is missing. Despite respectful mentions for Sheldrake and other usually marginal figures, he seems to have no conception that a subset could reach out and influence the set that contains it - that the higher could reconfigure the lower. His very reasonable heirarchies all plan their joyous reunion, but still at separate tables.

July 13th; Sunday. Another day of struggles with intractable software. Finally, computer victory! I join Robin in Lacko & Joli's kitchen for a couple of glasses of their homemade sour-cherry-based sherry, and then back in the main house for some pink wine, becoming disgracefully squiffy in time to snooze through the World Cup football final. Yesterday found Zsuzsi's horse Solero inspecting the locked main gates from the inside in hot sunshine, brown forehead resting against the bars of the gate. Sometimes he gazed with longing out into the distance and occasionally snuffled with interest around the vertical rod latch that keeps the gates closed. Hard to tell if he was missing Zsuzsanna (currently at a music festival at Lake Balaton) or wishing he could socialise with the two grey-white horses almost at the main road, both grazing in the shade of the uncompleted red-roofed barn, half-built for the last 12 years. Every couple of minutes or so a mild stamp of the front right hoof showed a sort of vague boredom.
July 12th; Saturday. Alone in house on Great Plain with young Bela Grant. Rather frustrating battle the whole day with irritating bits of software. It seems US courts think airborne drones are not intruding if they don't physically touch you or your property. Definitely some physical touching of property by these people.

July 11th; Friday. Pack my bags and get the train for the countryside. Another railway journey where another one or two pieces seem to fall into place in the mind. Robin meets me at Lakitelek just before dark falls. Good article on the told-you-so responders as self-styled state of ISIS expands inside Iraq.
July 10th; Thursday. Do 2 Tarot readings for Esoteric Veronica. In her 1st spread she picks this card as final outcome, and then in the 2nd spread picks this card as basis of the affair. Goodness.

July 9th; Wednesday. Provocative: the cost of children.
July 8th; Tuesday. Continuing the 1970s by other means.

July 7th; Monday. Preparations continue at feverish pace. Hilarious selection of books that a manly man should let a young lady find on his shelves.
July 6th; Sunday. Day off with Operatic Zita at the Csillaghegyi outdoor pool complex, bustling with swimmers, sunbathers, & cement cherubs standing guard at intervals in the bushes. Around 99 degrees F at noon. After a lunch of battered fish and pink wine + soda I fall asleep in the shade for an hour or two next to one pool, watching huge citadels of white cloud cruise past tree foliage overhead. The whole day I wear the baths' magnetic-gate-operating blue & green plastic bracelet. It's like a fake wristwatch with a blank blue disc instead of a dial, a timepiece that says time no longer moves. Not even exercise can save us. Finally realise spiritual life purpose as we chat during car drive back into town.

July 5th; Saturday. Gina's friend Aniko talks about mistreatment of Gypsies in the provinces. Gina says families of wild boar sometimes wander through the Budapest suburb where we're drinking wine after dark. Some groovy East Bloc hepcat sounds, care of Syd Dale & his orchestra.
July 4th; Friday. The military love Facebook.

July 3rd; Thursday. 1 in 200 men are The Spawn Of Genghis.
July 2nd; Wednesday. Lessons with Gabor and Boardgame Orsolya in Budapest. Interpreting political geography broadly we have an article about how fracking has done us good / Rod Liddle's cheerful thoughts on the new Islamist entity ISIS / how to bring down a country financially / how to create a balloon-style city floating over the baking-hot plains of Venus / a semi-map of all the solid planet surfaces in our solar system / and some surprising maps of IQ scores across Europe.

July 1st; Tuesday. A bright sunny morning with Robin and Zsuzsi in a nearby village reviewing big piles of sand. Robin is transfixed by a large empty warehouse/barn completely dark inside its giant open doors but for one spinning ventilator port piercing the far wall high up. 50 yards away, a bull and I eye each other warily by a stack of hay bales next to a gravel-pit lake, a lone Victorian-looking brick-kiln chimney rising above thick trees. Meanwhile not far off to our left Zsuzsi inspects an array of ten-foot-high mounds of different kinds of sand. Back to Budapest again ending up in a train compartment with The Muchly Adorned Lass from a year ago, as before tinkling with trinkets, showing off her legs, this time pretty head clamped inside luminous green headphones. Quick clip of snatches from an early-1970s movie I remember watching as a schoolboy on our black-and-white television: 'The Outside Man'. No connection to the outside man of the Jimmy Bee song. More work on website.

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