Magnus
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nmagnus.bsky.social
Magnus
@nmagnus.bsky.social
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I consider myself a πολυΐστωρ. That is Latin for someone who can be wrong about almost any subject. I remove many of my posts after one week. They usually have no lasting value. Either. http://amazon.com/author/magnuslewan
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"On peut rire de tout, mais pas avec tout le monde."

"Man kan skämta om allt, men inte med alla."
Pierre Desproges (som gärna skämtade om sin cancer.)
Den som läser mina inlägg har slösat bort 20 sekunder som de kunde använt till något bättre.
That’s the first time I heard the One Note Samba. It got stuck in my head and I’m still, several decades later, hoping for another note.
Jag avviker från mängden.
Jag satt i bilkö i Florens. Det hade nog varit roligare att gifta sig.
If we could only see more of these!
Very true.
"Narrenhände beschmieren Tisch und Wände." (1912) 😅
En bokstavs skillnad.

Hagtorn och havtorn.

And so on…

That never was ther no word hem bitwene
Of Ielousye, or any other tene.

And God, that al this wyde world hath wroght,
Sende him his love, that hath it dere a-boght.
For now is Palamon in alle wele,
Living in blisse, in richesse, and in hele;
And Emelye him loveth so tendrely,
And he hir serveth al-so gentilly,
竜, ryū, dragon.
Image: Ceiling decoration by Hokusai 北斎 in a Festival Float kept in the Hokusai Museum in Obuse in the Nagano Prefecture, Japan.
#WOTD
I had not noticed that the middle telescope had two "eyes", which implies that the two side telescopes are "arms". I guess there is much more to discover in the drawing.

'I trowe ther nedeth litel sermoning
To make yow assente to this thing.
Com neer, and tak your lady by the hond.'
Bitwixen hem was maad anon the bond,
That highte matrimoine or mariage,
By al the counseil and the baronage.
And thus with alle blisse and melodye
Hath Palamon y-wedded Emelye.
More star gazing.

This time an illustration by Tove Jansson from her book Kometen kommer.

And, though he were a povre bacheler,
Sin he hath served yow so many a yeer,
And had for yow so greet adversitee,
It moste been considered, leveth me;
For gentil mercy oghte to passen right.'
Than seyde he thus to Palamon ful right;

And ever hath doon, sin that ye first him knewe,
That ye shul, of your grace, up-on him rewe,
And taken him for housbonde and for lord:
Leen me your hond, for this is our acord.
Lat see now of your wommanly pitee.
He is a kinges brother sone, pardee;

And loketh now, wher most sorwe is her-inne,
Ther wol we first amenden and biginne.
'Suster,' quod he, 'this is my fulle assent,
With al thavys heer of my parlement,
That gentil Palamon, your owne knight,
That serveth yow with wille, herte, and might,

'What may I conclude of this longe serie,
But, after wo, I rede us to be merie,
And thanken Iupiter of al his grace?
And, er that we departen from this place,
I rede that we make, of sorwes two,
O parfyt Ioye, lasting ever-mo;

Out of this foule prison of this lyf?
Why grucchen heer his cosin and his wyf
Of his wel-fare that loved hem so weel?
Can he hem thank? nay, God wot, never a deel,
That bothe his soule and eek hem-self offende,
And yet they mowe hir lustes nat amende.

For al forgeten is his vasselage.
Than is it best, as for a worthy fame,
To dyen whan that he is best of name.
The contrarie of al this is wilfulnesse.
Why grucchen we? why have we hevinesse,
That good Arcite, of chivalrye flour
Departed is, with duetee and honour,

And certeinly a man hath most honour
To dyen in his excellence and flour,
Whan he is siker of his gode name;
Than hath he doon his freend, ne him, no shame.
And gladder oghte his freend ben of his deeth,
Whan with honour up-yolden is his breeth,
Than whan his name apalled is for age;

'Thanne is it wisdom, as it thinketh me,
To maken vertu of necessitee,
And take it wel, that we may nat eschue,
And namely that to us alle is due.
And who-so gruccheth ought, he dooth folye,
And rebel is to him that al may gye.

The which is prince and cause of alle thing,
Converting al un-to his propre welle,
From which it is deryved, sooth to telle.
And here-agayns no creature on lyve
Of no degree availleth for to stryve.

Som in his bed, som in the depe see,
Som in the large feeld, as men may se;
Ther helpeth noght, al goth that ilke weye.
Thanne may I seyn that al this thing moot deye.
What maketh this but Iupiter the king?