Sunday, February 21, 2010

Never wake a lazy lion

Ladies and gentlemen,
Dames en heren,
Bayanlar, Baylar,
Signoras e Signori,
Señoras y Señores,
Mesdames et Messieurs,

Friends,

I am so sorry to cause inconviences.

Some religious nutters cause me, in a first step to ask for word verification. As soon as the lady and the gentleman* (or the machine) get tired and thus decide to focus on other poor bloggers, I shall return to easy business as usual.


* My esteemed readers will notice that on my quest to become the politest blogger in this universe and those yet to discover, I did not call mentioned lady and gentleman names.
Otherwise, I'd say they are fucking idiots.

The peace of the night.

Perhaps, perhaps

Astronomy is perhaps the science whose discoveries owe least to chance, in which human understanding appears in its whole magnitude, and through which man can best learn how small he is.
Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-1799)

Friday, February 19, 2010

One cat a day ... ?

Yesterday a blackbird, used to find ...

(at least) one apple a day in Seanhenge,

looking left ...

looking right ...

hardly could believe its eyes.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Forest Bulb: Some thought I were Venus

Well, as promised for today's Laughing Lhursday, here's the metagrobolistic subject of Seanstronomy, observed in daytime.

I think from now on I shall call this star Forest Bulb.

As now :) can (perhaps) easily be seen it's neither Venus, Moon, nor Mars, but the good old bulb at the edge of our good old greenhouse which - mind you, the greenhouse, not the bulb - once, deep in the past millennium, was build mainly from old windows by our father (never would have come to my mind he was "but" my father-in-law) who whenever I'd admire his various skills (and how often I would!) accompanied by his unique tiny smile used to say (and still I do have his voice in my ear): "Sean, you can well be stupid as long as you know how to help yourself."

By the way: See the bright spot on the western side of Forest Bulb's northern hemisphere, pretty near to its equator? That's the sun.

Well, I am pretty sure that someone who on first sight knows to distinguish Mars from a bulb [see here, in the comment section] will probably insist on that it's rather a reflection of the sun, or to put it more precisely ... here's your turn, Andrew. :)

And now, getting hungry, I'll dedicate myself to something completely different. Bertus would call it minestronology.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Chill out with Chopin


Long live Heine

Our death is in the cool of night,
our life is in t
he pool of day.
The darkness glows, I’m drowning,
the day has tired me with light.
Over my head in leaves grown deep,
sings the young nightingale.
It only sings of love there,
I hear it in my sl
eep.

Heinrich Heine (13.12. 1797 - 17.02. 1856)