Asbestblog

"This is no time to make new enemies."

(Voltaire, when asked on his deathbed to forswear Satan.)

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

(Edgar Allan Poe)

I am currently reading the book "Budapest 1900" by John Lukacs which gives a historical portrait of Budapest and its culture around 1900. The following paragraph gives an example of the unbridgeable, and often tragic, class differences. During his year of military duty the fine Magyar writer Sándor Hunyady, then a simple soldier, met Vilma, a beautiful peasant girl on a Sunday afternoon, when privates and maids on their only afternoon off kept promenading in one of the squares, eager to engage each other in conversation. They fell in love. A week or so later Hunyady (who was the son of a noted writer and a noted actress) was invited to supper in the apartment of a bourgeois family. Their maid happened to be Vilma. When she came into their dining room and saw Hunyady, who had sufficient courage and presence of mind to speak to her, she did not answer. She fled the house in an instant, never to return, and never to see Hunyady again.

Debauchery and Death are pleasant twins,
And lavish with their charms, a buxom pair!
Under the rags that clothe their virgin skins,
Their wombs, though still in labour, never bear.

For the cursed poet, foe to married rest,
The friend of hell, and courtier on half-pay --
Brothels and tombs reserve for such a guest
A bed on which repentance never lay.

Both tomb and bed, in blasphemy so fecund,
Each other's hospitality to second,
Prepare grim treats, and hatch atrocious things.

Debauch, when will you bury me? When, Death,
Mingle your Cypress in the selfsame wreath
With the infected Myrtles that she brings?

(Charles Baudelaire)

Two guys sit in a pub together when one turns to the other and says "I fucked your mum last night. we did everything. I fucked her doggy, missionary and reverse cowgirl, then I licked her bumhole while she fingered mine, then she gave me a tit wank whilst sucking my cock and I spunked all over her face."

The other guy puts down his pint and says. "Lets go home dad, i think you've had enough."

Yesterday I passed my final exam and finished my degree in mathematics.