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Archive for September 15th, 2007

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Click to see the end of the Champs’ games…round 3 in progress….Saturday 15th September…




Follow this link to the World Chess championship Mexico

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Read HERE about Pol Pot…
I’ve read the book…”First they killed my father…” A VERY upsetting book, but fantastic narration…follow my links to read more about the book. I’m now busy with “Lucky child…”
Last night there was on CNN a very interesting program on TV and that inspired me to post this on my blog…
 
Lung Ung
Until the age of five, Loung Ung lived in Phnom Penh, one of seven children of a high-ranking government official. She was a precocious child who loved the open city markets, fried crickets, chicken fights, and sassing her parents. When Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge army stormed into Phnom Penh in April 1975, Ung’s family was forced to flee their home and hide their previous life of privilege. Eventually, they dispersed in order to survive. Loung was trained as a child soldier in a work camp for orphans while her other siblings were sent to labor camps. Only after the Vietnamese destroyed the Khmer Rouge were Loung and her surviving siblings slowly reunited.

Loung Ung is a national spokesperson for the Campaign for a Landmine Free World, a program of the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation. She is the author of Lucky Child: A Daughter of Cambodia Reunites with the Sister She Left Behind, and she lives with her husband in Ohio.
Khmer Rouge on trial, CNN.
Read HERE about the author.

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I would like to post this “essay”/poem here, after a chess player had asked me if I had read it….and….I do like it!!

Thanatopsisby William Cullen Bryant

To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language; for his gayer hours
She has a voice of gladness, and a smile
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides
Into his darker musings, with a mild
And gentle sympathy, that steals away
Their sharpness, ere he is aware. When thoughts
Of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall,
And breathless darkness, and the narrow house,
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart;–
Go forth under the open sky, and list
To Nature’s teachings, while from all around–
Earth and her waters, and the depths of air,–
Comes a still voice–Yet a few days, and thee
The all-beholding sun shall see no more
In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground,
Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears,
Nor in the embrace of ocean shall exist
Thy image. Earth, that hourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolv’d to earth again;
And, lost each human trace, surrend’ring up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements,
To be a brother to th’ insensible rock
And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain
Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak
Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould.
Yet not to thy eternal resting place
Shalt thou retire alone–nor couldst thou wish
Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down
, With patriarchs of the infant world–with kings
The powerful of the earth–the wise, the good,
Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past,
All in one mighty sepulchre.–The hills
Rock-ribb’d and ancient as the sun,–the vales
Stretching in pensive quietness between;
The vernal woods–rivers that move
In majesty, and the complaining brooks
That make the meadows green; and pour’d round all,
Old ocean’s grey and melancholy waste,–
Are but the solemn decorations all
Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun,
The planets, all the infinite host of heaven,
Are shining on the sad abodes of death,
Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread
The globe are but a handful to the tribes
That slumber in its bosom.–Take the wings
Of morning–and the Barcan desert pierce,
Or lost thyself in the continuous woods
Where rolls the Oregan, and hears no sound,
Save his own dashings–yet–the dead are there,
And millions in those solitudes, since first
The flight of years began, have laid them down
In their last sleep–the dead reign there alone.–
So shalt thou rest–and what if thou shalt fall
Unnoticed by the living–and no friend
Take note of thy departure? All that breathe
Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh,
When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favourite phantom; yet all these shall leave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come,
And make their bed with thee. As the long train
Of ages glide away, the sons of men,
The youth in life’s green spring, and he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron, and maid,
The bow’d with age, the infant in the smiles
And beauty of its innocent age cut off,–
Shall one by one be gathered to thy side,
By those, who in their turn shall follow them.
So live, that when thy summons comes to join
The innumerable caravan, that moves
To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take
His chamber in the silent halls of death,
Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,
Scourged to his dungeon, but sustain’d and sooth’d
By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
1814

Bryant first wrote this poem when he was about 17, after reading the British “graveyard poets” (e.g. Thomas Gray, “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” and Robert Blair, “The Grave”)and William Wordsworth’s Lyrical Ballads. In particular, there are parallels to Wordsworth’s Lucy poems, especially “A Slumber Did My Spirit Seal”:A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth’s diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.

Bryant enlarged “Thanatopsis” in 1821, 7 years later, adding the final injunction and giving the poem a kind of religious point. Do you think his youth is part of how he is viewing death at 17? How do you account for the change? How might he have rewritten it 20 or 50 years later?
Source and read more about Bryant
HERE

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Trout a la..mine!


For those chess players, who know about my trout…ok, here they are! And the dish! I prepared trout…for the first time myself…and I have to say first…that I HATE these heads still being attached! I know it is etiquette…to serve trout in Restaurants with these heads attached…but I am no Restaurant owner!….this is a private home! lol…..I couldn’t get rid of these heads fast enough…not that I found that a very pleasant act! Well, to be honest…not again…can Tesco and these other supermarkets take notice please! Stop selling trout with heads attached! I don’t like it…! I felt like King Henry VIII….he beheaded his wives…half of them! He had SIXwives! …This is the evidence for a couple of chess players that demanded to see the evidence…well, see with your own eyes…..I’m “tough” ….hey!






This is what I did…I had in the fridge…leeks…tomatoes, onions…you can also see some lemon juice, garlic and dried thyme! I added salt and oil too…

What I did was…chopped the leeks…put in oven pan…see the picture! Then the fish on top…with chopped tomatoes, onions, salt, crushed garlic, dried thyme…you can use fresh thyme of course instead…and don’t forget a bit oil and lemon juice….according to taste! Basically…use your imagination! Everything goes in the oven….for about 20 minutes…oh, a hot oven of course…gas mark 6…..and…voila! Trout a la…yours! Serve with whatever you want…I served it with greens, potatoes…and salad…very delicious! Any comments?…feel free to add your recipe here in the comments box!

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