Creative Commons License

Sunday, 13 April 2014

Saturday, 12 April 2014

Suggestion #5

What is it that art seeks to represent if we describe it as a mirror-copy of the world or an emotional illusion of an object/event?

Could it be that art is not an attempt to copy that which already exists, nor does it attempt to confuse or mislead, but is instead an attempt to create something.

A something-that and it is what the 'that' constitutes in is what makes the art work worthy of further investigation.

Thoughts were prompted by the reading of this book

Chansons du Samedi: Aux Champs-Élysées!



This is the closing song to the very excellent 'Darjeeling Limited' by Wes Anderson.




Parole de Les Champs-Élysées:

Je m'baladais sur l'avenue
Le coeur ouvert à l'inconnu
J'avais envie de dire bonjour
À n'importe qui
N'importe qui ce fut toi
Je t'ai dit n'importe quoi
Il suffisait de te parler
Pour t'apprivoiser

Aux Champs-Élysées
Aux Champs-Élysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie
À midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez
Aux Champs-Élysées

Tu m'as dit "J'ai rendez-vous
Dans un sous-sol avec des fous
Qui vivent la guitare à la main
Du soir au matin"
Alors je t'ai accompagnée
On a chanté, on a dansé
Et l'on n'a même pas pensé
À s'embrasser

Aux Champs-Élysées
Aux Champs-Élysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie
À midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez
Aux Champs-Élysées

Hier soir deux inconnus
Et ce matin sur l'avenue
Deux amoureux tout étourdis
Par la longue nuit
Et de l'Étoile à la Concorde
Un orchestre à mille cordes
Tous les oiseaux du point du jour
Chantent l'amour

Aux Champs-Élysées
Aux Champs-Élysées
Au soleil, sous la pluie
À midi ou à minuit
Il y a tout ce que vous voulez
Aux Champs-Élysées

Friday, 11 April 2014

Library Tales: Dedications VI

Special love and thanks to
Anita, Erica, and Geoff
for supporting me and my passion.
Special thanks to God for my many blessings.
"There but for the grace of God go I."

To my wife, without whom this would have
been impossible, and to the future without
which it would have been unnecessary.

To Bob Edwards and Joe Herbert
who first stimulated our interest
in the science of reproduction

Dark mysteries are here - old pathways, secret places

Under the tangled cortex, grown snugly thick now:
Intricately synapsed: electrode-proof

To:

Truth

For Kathryn,
who thinks I can do no wrong,
and Barbara,
who knows better
and loves me anyway

To the memory of my uncle
Neil Norme, who through his
example taught me the honor
and pleasure of work. He was
a calm and purposeful man.
Steady.

This book is dedicated to you.

To 
those with
'a poet's feeling or a painter's eye'
this book is
DEDICATED

To our wives Barbara and Edna, without whose whining nagging for more
money we might long ago abandoned this painful project;
To our numerous children, whose incessant bickering and generally atrocious
behavior drive us to spend  many long hours at the office, working on the book
as the lesser of evils;
To our students, who, with malicious glee, found the many errors in earlier
versions and did the dirty work of indexing, checking references, and so on,
knowing that a degree and a decent recommendation would have been impossible otherwise;
To our many colleagues who were generous with suggestions - but who asked
them? Any failings or errors now present in the book are undoubtedly the result
of their unsolicited advice and meddlesome tampering. We accept absolutely no
responsibility for errors in this book;
And finally, to our tipysts, whose dedic ated efforts, careful attentiun to de&ail,
and skillful w*rk transmuted a rougf ilegible swrawl int0 a finished boo$.

This book is dedicated to
Starla Kay Jacobs
My Wife, and Companion for Life
Through beauty, elegance, wit, humor, and semi-infinite patience, she has
made this book possible. Furthermore, while I was attempting to coordinate the
efforts of 33 authors in five different countries, she would often remind
me, with a twinkle in her eye, that whether the task is writing a book, doing
research in the lab, or painting the house, "if it's not one thing, it's another."
Paul Francis Jacobs
La Crescenta, California
[Final proof that Engineers write the sappiest dedications]

To all those engineers who have contributed to exciting projects that have 
failed on the market