Making Silver Sugarpaste

The end of the harmony

The Christmas peace is destroyed. Josephine occurs at me and hissed at me. Now she is under the sofa and sulk. Cats have no sensitivity. . .

Daisy Scouts Patch Placement

of causes and bigger things

I do not know if it's the excitement or the cold, but I just tremble incessantly. At the latest by sending press releases to various media, it is obvious. The project of buchbensch has begun. Particulars here.

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Abandoning the illusion of meaning

The night following the day on which one in the master's degree majoring in political science 19 pages of the Republic concept of Immanuel Kant, his conception the eternal peace and the role of law written on the way to its realization, has reason to celebrate. Watered. I thought. But since D for reasons that bring life sometimes so with it, not in a celebratory mood was and I before the moment in the disco was afraid that where I am back as a silent spectator in front of a canvas of the horror felt necessary to plan change . The alternative program: a chat in the pub cellar and before: Corso cinema Würzburg, to declare the supposedly last honor. Only once in the small spa palace, gives up the end of December, because the turnover predicts the downfall. Once again, the animating sound of a real projector hear this humming, rattling noise. And then this film with his typical lead-in, with its great music, and even with its contents could not be more perfect for a day like this, for an event like this.

Woody Allen is back in New York. Since coming to nostalgic feelings. His latest Whatever works does have a surprising number of gags that just do not ignite. But then there's this story and this protagonist. Boris Yellnikoff (Larry David), would-be Nobel laureate in physics, hypochondriac, nihilist, elitist snob Egocentric, failed suicides - and yet endearing enough to marry his personal Eliza Doolittle. The melody Südstaatendummchen (Evan Rachel Wood) a crush in the owl, as absurd as that may sound. It grows at his side and ultimately grow beyond it.

The consistency with which a disillusioned Woody Allen (or he never had illusions?) Represents its position here, dominated those earlier films for a wide. "This is not a feel-good movie," Boris says at the beginning. He stares at it directly in the face of movie-goers, grinning. The warning will be heard. Existence is futile. Life is a pure accumulation of coincidences. Also love no solution. Religion certainly not. The bigotry and double standards of America's Allen gets a targeted punch right on the nose. But what is life without stops? "I die," squawks Boris few minutes after his entrance monologue horrified. His sympathetic wife (the first) will call a doctor. "I do not mean now," lamented the dying instantly. "Someday." Such an attitude is only one option. You have to grab things with both hands. The main thing it is holding - Whatever works. "Better," D. said after the transition from the movies, "you can not pack Carpe diem film."