tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-368849142012-01-28T08:03:10.982ZRyan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.comBlogger6421100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-33599424360997164372012-01-25T19:26:00.001Z2012-01-25T19:26:24.536Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/kkIeK/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ExrkDkekfxmEIJADotCzbfInkdHJJbbdABouqHtjnfeHCymHmxlCrabxAGGE/media_httpdistilleryi_Jmksw.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_jmksw" height="500" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ExrkDkekfxmEIJADotCzbfInkdHJJbbdABouqHtjnfeHCymHmxlCrabxAGGE/media_httpdistilleryi_Jmksw.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/sundown-on-rest-bay-near-porthcawl-igerscardi">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3359942436099716437?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-42651342173852813412012-01-14T02:52:00.001Z2012-01-14T02:52:08.718Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><p><span style="">If you can take time to read this, please do...</span></p><p><span style=""><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/JAUmnR9RWzm7Y4ZyZsWhgQc4TkBHFSlriC7ms7n5WQfKLRnQ10NhNTY1yIA3/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Photo" height="691" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/NtGSJHXcIJofYjaXrPT4TfXHr6NHMUYNvg8aosSD1AZNGEgbrf5wbr4Vu5fB/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </span></p></div><div><p>Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.</p><p>Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.</p><p>Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.</p><p>Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.</p><p>Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.</p><p>Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.</p><p>Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.</p><p>And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.</p>Strive to be happy.&nbsp;</div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/desiderata-happiness-with-all-its-sham-drudge">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4265134217385281341?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-88066472542535960522012-01-13T09:15:00.001Z2012-01-13T09:15:47.737Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <img alt="Image" height="350" src="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/1cAhij0Lf1pp48T4qHTFO0io9dfc4wBACwUtk4KXGyTnmXdLlrm87wbbNOOI/image.jpeg" width="357" /> </div> <p>Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in World War 2, where they had been on holiday. Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and colour of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital porters to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-hospital-window-a-tale-of-two-men">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8806647254253596052?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-58064673440089587362012-01-12T08:15:00.001Z2012-01-12T08:15:01.193Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/af9saCy6PX5NTKACB6RjPbpIij4kytFMNp208WbGBOAmNHiQoGwKsZ9c8gJa/image.png"><img alt="Image" height="218" src="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/cSZ1XaHMAyGuZtexucVliDdOKMzhsrEVekKMHoi0lLB1UYiUpveNbKELLIac/image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/35n5Usgq082NNDksuxQu43fGHza3QzHTXolmRoYmHAfSYhmLIr25lXJaUPKD/0image.png"><img alt="0image" height="291" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/NrtVkqkbKojU7YtAvcUZt7rljI5MjSEVXOY6Z2DJCpAXqHAx1Ys0s1xXboJl/0image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/QAnxTxSZvI9qUYdJxYEX0jfClW8aMqaFsPhrQz49gMOeHQnBu5JgO9b1IOP2/1image.png"><img alt="1image" height="226" 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src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/QeuoanLd1DkWTToH1esNNXArqb30bqszKoPa4jbuKqsBc11hQZi6ID1Guei9/7image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/dN9kfBNK3EQWJqHVznRPT9V3xCUyadITKKajc9Fad6K3Qe0Th1Q9TuS8sizw/8image.png"><img alt="8image" height="199" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/r58ljLX76PhETE4Oaq8kgvJuspDBAf1Xr1lKTa8l4MtAj5jRhxSKCHI1fECL/8image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/how-to-use-an-apostrophe-correctly">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5806467344008958736?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-43303010511948046582012-01-12T08:13:00.001Z2012-01-12T08:13:15.941Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GwExcYPnTdRXxZS0ZIaLWqJ4nWk2WrgAgnFlQVqrkppM7j8hzpeRVIOEPuS1/image.png"><img alt="Image" height="250" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/UHUGz5yWUifbfWd3LDWbSvC70mOVIDN4NpUiEAtAaQtC03L1w6cyyGvzj5Xu/image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/LL0UjlTNFqIe69Pgm41SlSoMt9Xf3qb9XfnxTBVjBDFFzXE2CHIBGzNb5WjW/0image.png"><img alt="0image" height="267" src="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/1m7bH4gsGnnN34wq7rxKmDmDQx7fb9bzxVs8WLG3349CMmtlT541amj9WnQJ/0image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/uE6AE52mmc6Rk2AlEckAuAllr2btNZyKVx4ZhRL9wiegAP76B3FN4WoH59Je/1image.png"><img alt="1image" height="223" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/32m47Q1UeT7Dslxp3afzpZZnPoCtLYt1qtUVUrTXFfY4kfPzZZXXnMavXRCm/1image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/A6BpMqrrWdCpGk1GM0gKm9hDGkokOOiaJuMq7kxdO32WWNg43mqKFM5o3zSK/2image.png"><img alt="2image" height="481" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/uTiSspxbml97H1GXAmpq48jpqh1xhdgKtNfAhtA9coKFbx3qRTzmQTxfLQqG/2image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ua6Mn9cyaUN5gB89lwIruZyfp60T3TzGwGgdNFUWcNyaguUVryy6OaiQAjeY/3image.png"><img alt="3image" height="314" src="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/d4vTd4QnRFw316Ntfs09W8jRO9sxkfo6OPw1Z478RseN21aRHHVGjniMb6HB/3image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/7B7I2LFz2LM7WTdY59jQKUa2vHhftG6waHu8iE9txbRWHUZ2XkzAic9tv1xK/4image.png"><img alt="4image" height="422" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Cw8SPsUdzeae5prxDFOZ3KeaOMCC0lVjuJj2lfh6Ee14wKdBTEIcjkrDY3vD/4image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>(see separate post on apostrophe use!)</p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/9psInbghwPy8AJEkf5PnQ97S3ytv8uCGO0DtmrYBiwuKV4MV5BfkwxVkJnRv/5image.png"><img alt="5image" height="354" src="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/A9cutUVhoBnwO54evpOfGwJ89c3hwrgsmeheWko1SPr8Ws86e9152JEeTOdJ/5image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GWnW84QuNB6gOdifvq8LSYdA9AbhBR5RNPWIR6ZyQQzB8ldmQ1L82FK533aq/6image.png"><img alt="6image" height="366" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/vCJRqr6sTiQkznoK1V5545aEX349IewxO0RhfIMtgHLqkO0W2tFBvSxoE3Ws/6image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/LFdvt8kRDAljDKGyMKLqt9Nb8sU12fvIGLzyo4VNqvQ8gx8lHunyvOkF3Gi1/7image.png"><img alt="7image" height="239" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/2vw2eLoymAcLu6pqzWHZMoSIax20X2Hfcjt8TKbLVWq8OPe8S5Tjg7s3VlOC/7image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/odEoQPHmfFVOYwmIWDnJ8qMFBZNz7mlhCymsAiX29IJFx33SAhQ481XhhewS/8image.png"><img alt="8image" height="156" src="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mI7QX2yfjXUR0s9mEbGzyfhHAgFre1vByMxZAR1grAx4FuHI4SmxE0r1GNYi/8image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/JN7lkeBdeg0qV4loqpgPTjBrzTpVvUlcMmqdUeTQYE8WZCOWzhn4yl95sApc/9image.png"><img alt="9image" height="333" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/LNOr5OmYJHjq5YsHMEhXUN6ARtjlHIxYvD23tl29vppQU2SixsEZInY5rLxn/9image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <img alt="10image" height="111" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/rRhpkkFT53xoqgwnzqUns2WhmkQMxYVtOrxff7gf50O4c9Gh4PaqQ2fNHTUj/10image.png" width="368" /> </div> </p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/ten-words-you-need-to-stop-misspelling-right">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4330301051194804658?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-24119123233710948392012-01-10T01:06:00.001Z2012-01-10T01:06:25.237Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oL1NhrsmUF0?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/rupert-and-the-frog-song-we-all-stand-togethe">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2411912323371094839?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-37032872794269909702012-01-08T08:31:00.003Z2012-01-08T08:31:38.801Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class="original-url"><span style=""><img class="reader-image-large" src="http://news.bbcimg.co.uk/media/images/57720000/jpg/_57720429_hawking_pa_466.jpg" height="300" alt="Stephen Hawking" width="466" />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span><br /></div><div><div class="page" style="font-family: Palatino, Georgia, Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> <br /> <p><b>To mark his 70th birthday, physicist Professor Stephen Hawking answered a selection of questions from listeners to Radio 4's Today Programme.</b></p><p>Topics ranged from the origins of the universe to the prospects for extra terrestrial life and the impact on Einstein's theory of relativity should neutrinos be confirmed to travel faster than light. </p><p></p> <p>It seems clear that Professor Hawking believes we we will have to colonise space if we are to avoid catastrophe, but he is upbeat about the prospects for self-sustaining colonies on Mars and believes the human race will eventually spread out across the far reaches of the universe. </p><p>Finding intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, he says, would be the greatest scientific discovery ever, but he is not optimistic about the likely outcome. </p><p></p> <p>ORIGINS OF THE UNIVERSE</p> <p><b>1. Was there a "time" when there was "nothing"? - Roland, Lagos</b></p><p>The origin of the universe can be explained by the laws of physics, without any need for miracles or Divine intervention. </p><p>These laws predict that the universe was spontaneously created out of nothing in a rapidly expanding state. </p><p>This is called inflation because it is like the way prices in the shops go up at an ever increasing rate. </p><p>Time is defined only with the universe, so it makes no sense to talk about time before the universe began, it would be like asking for a point south of the South Pole. </p><p></p> <p>FASTER THAN LIGHT?</p> <p><b>2. What will be the impact on Einstein's theory of relativity if the neutrino is confirmed to be able to travel faster than the speed of light? - David Pointon, Maidstone</b></p><p></p> <p>Einstein's theory of relativity predicts that nothing can travel faster than light. </p><p>Thus if the Opera experiment is correct and neutrinos do travel faster than light, then relativity theory is wrong. </p><p>However, I don't believe the Opera results, because they disagree with the detection of neutrinos from supernova SN1987A. </p><p></p> <p>MULTIPLE UNIVERSES?</p> <p><b>3. Some people hypothesise that what we call the universe may only be one of many. Is there any conceivable way that we could ever detect and study other universes if they exist? Is it even falsifiable? - Toby North, Essex</b></p><p>Our best bet for a theory of everything is M-theory [an extension of string theory]. </p><p>One prediction of M-theory is that there are many different universes, with different values for the physical constants. </p><p>This might explain why the physical constants we measure seem fine-tuned to the values required for life to exist. </p><p>It is no surprise that we observe the physical constants to be finely-tuned. </p><p>If they weren't, we wouldn't be here to observe them. </p><p>One way of testing this would be to look for features in the cosmic microwave background radiation which would indicate the collision of another universe with ours in the distant past. </p><p></p> <p>COLONISING SPACE</p> <p><b>4. Do you think the human race will survive all potential disasters and eventually colonise the stars?- Matt Dotchon, Cardiff</b></p><p>It is possible that the human race could become extinct, but it is not inevitable. </p><p>I think it is almost certain that a disaster such as nuclear war or global warming will befall the Earth within a thousand years. </p><p>It is essential that we colonize space. </p><p>I believe that we will eventually establish self-sustaining colonies on Mars and other bodies in the Solar System although probably not within the next 100 years. </p><p>I am optimistic that progress in science and technology will eventually enable humans to spread beyond the Solar System and out into the far reaches of the Universe. </p><p></p> <p>ALIEN CONTACT</p> <p><b>5. What do you think the impact will be on humankind if Kepler 22-b [Earth-like planet found by Nasa's Kepler Space Telescope] does indeed support life?- CazCarpSnail via Twitter</b></p><p>The discovery of intelligent life elsewhere in the Universe would be the biggest scientific discovery ever. </p><p>But it would be very risky to attempt to communicate with an alien civilization. </p><p>If aliens decided to visit us then the outcome might be similar to when Europeans arrived in the Americas. </p><p>That did not turn out well for the Native Americans.</p></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/stephen-hawking-on-the-future-of-mankind">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3703287279426990970?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-76903052198138381452012-01-08T08:31:00.001Z2012-01-08T08:31:37.904Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class="original-url"><span style=""><img class="reader-image-large" src="http://news.bbcimg.co.uk/media/images/57720000/jpg/_57720429_hawking_pa_466.jpg" height="300" alt="Stephen Hawking" width="466" />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span><br /></div><div><div class="page" style="font-family: Palatino, Georgia, Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> <br /> <p><b>To mark his 70th birthday, physicist Professor Stephen Hawking answered a selection of questions from listeners to Radio 4's Today Programme.</b></p><p>Topics ranged from the origins of the universe to the prospects for extra terrestrial life and the impact on Einstein's theory of relativity should neutrinos be confirmed to travel faster than light. </p><p></p> <p>It seems clear that Professor Hawking believes we we will have to colonise space if we are to avoid catastrophe, but he is upbeat about the prospects for self-sustaining colonies on Mars and believes the human race will eventually spread out across the far reaches of the universe. </p><p>Finding intelligent life elsewhere in the universe, he says, would be the greatest scientific discovery ever, but he is not optimistic about the likely outcome. </p><p></p> <p>ORIGINS OF THE UNIVERSE</p> <p><b>1. Was there a "time" when there was "nothing"? - Roland, Lagos</b></p><p>The origin of the universe can be explained by the laws of physics, without any need for miracles or Divine intervention. </p><p>These laws predict that the universe was spontaneously created out of nothing in a rapidly expanding state. </p><p>This is called inflation because it is like the way prices in the shops go up at an ever increasing rate. </p><p>Time is defined only with the universe, so it makes no sense to talk about time before the universe began, it would be like asking for a point south of the South Pole. </p><p></p> <p>FASTER THAN LIGHT?</p> <p><b>2. What will be the impact on Einstein's theory of relativity if the neutrino is confirmed to be able to travel faster than the speed of light? - David Pointon, Maidstone</b></p><p></p> <p>Einstein's theory of relativity predicts that nothing can travel faster than light. </p><p>Thus if the Opera experiment is correct and neutrinos do travel faster than light, then relativity theory is wrong. </p><p>However, I don't believe the Opera results, because they disagree with the detection of neutrinos from supernova SN1987A. </p><p></p> <p>MULTIPLE UNIVERSES?</p> <p><b>3. Some people hypothesise that what we call the universe may only be one of many. Is there any conceivable way that we could ever detect and study other universes if they exist? Is it even falsifiable? - Toby North, Essex</b></p><p>Our best bet for a theory of everything is M-theory [an extension of string theory]. </p><p>One prediction of M-theory is that there are many different universes, with different values for the physical constants. </p><p>This might explain why the physical constants we measure seem fine-tuned to the values required for life to exist. </p><p>It is no surprise that we observe the physical constants to be finely-tuned. </p><p>If they weren't, we wouldn't be here to observe them. </p><p>One way of testing this would be to look for features in the cosmic microwave background radiation which would indicate the collision of another universe with ours in the distant past. </p><p></p> <p>COLONISING SPACE</p> <p><b>4. Do you think the human race will survive all potential disasters and eventually colonise the stars?- Matt Dotchon, Cardiff</b></p><p>It is possible that the human race could become extinct, but it is not inevitable. </p><p>I think it is almost certain that a disaster such as nuclear war or global warming will befall the Earth within a thousand years. </p><p>It is essential that we colonize space. </p><p>I believe that we will eventually establish self-sustaining colonies on Mars and other bodies in the Solar System although probably not within the next 100 years. </p><p>I am optimistic that progress in science and technology will eventually enable humans to spread beyond the Solar System and out into the far reaches of the Universe. </p><p></p> <p>ALIEN CONTACT</p> <p><b>5. What do you think the impact will be on humankind if Kepler 22-b [Earth-like planet found by Nasa's Kepler Space Telescope] does indeed support life?- CazCarpSnail via Twitter</b></p><p>The discovery of intelligent life elsewhere in the Universe would be the biggest scientific discovery ever. </p><p>But it would be very risky to attempt to communicate with an alien civilization. </p><p>If aliens decided to visit us then the outcome might be similar to when Europeans arrived in the Americas. </p><p>That did not turn out well for the Native Americans.</p></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/stephen-hawking-on-the-future-of-mankind">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7690305219813838145?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-8922344912353421012012-01-06T09:39:00.001Z2012-01-06T09:39:35.907Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>Someone will always be prettier.&nbsp;<br style="margin-top: 0px;" />Someone will always be smarter.&nbsp;<br />Someone's house will be bigger.&nbsp;<br />Someone will drive a better car.&nbsp;<br />Someone's children will do better in school.<br />And Someone's husband will fix more things around the house.&nbsp;<br />So let it go, and love you and your circumstances.&nbsp;<br />Think about it.&nbsp;<br />The prettiest woman in the world can have hell in her heart.&nbsp;<br />And the most highly favoured woman on your job may be unable to have children.&nbsp;<br />And the richest woman you know, who's got the car, the house, the clothes....might be lonely.&nbsp;<br />And the word says if "I have not Love, I am nothing."&nbsp;<br />So, again, love you.&nbsp;<br />Love who you are.&nbsp;<br />Look in the mirror in the morning and smile and say:&nbsp;<br />"I am too blessed to be stressed and too anointed to be disappointed!"&nbsp;<br style="margin-bottom: 0px;" />"Winners make things happen. Losers let things happen."<p><div><b><i>Ryan</i></b></div><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/comparisons-are-odious-accept-embrace-love-ev">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-892234491235342101?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-10316770958057138332012-01-03T20:16:00.001Z2012-01-03T20:16:41.703Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ZTJdLqfKbhSYX1svMnB8i29O6S7kXRG2pfeeGKGxwn1shN0KvA50EgXUvUwP/image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="376" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/itJK3vFPWuRp3AbKnr8CkfhFnCLotZh0qr3u7xmVq2WGz4dxnjvOdeMLOzuk/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/3jqFc3CZDhLJZRa2vmR5yhxnpEkGRNUoWILGsLWf5byMqLQ0lm4lzpHtbOA4/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="0image" height="369" src="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/L1FZuGK8wGZMOOSnhlgWzseSQbgVCQX0xWCYlFHBPZf9ZN25tRZzEmjUAMG7/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/O8B6428KfTT0Lor9Z7t2KuF0BXtu3ew9jM1kBHgUIDjGmKOoPhQo3DLfxzoj/1image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="1image" height="354" src="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/i5eP5lsAP1QOvLu99k0mXQKT4gQbhnQGYAiTeI3scmzZ7ryaOYF4OZXxqbRt/1image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/WvsmFvQBmq82jPRGTXYMpENGLSIrwelzDk7NVPCUiVMIODUgWj2Kzd6Wt8x5/2image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="2image" height="341" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/fxWWT2UN4JYMREWpPMyD5nZ5Owr3I6ViXs8lChdY0tK72j3WPp2wIdXKlw3U/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ooAnZRaYv1apt91slQ39DstqEEYbwoaUE1JZ7jtjq2tUKPRXBSPrAmnpwxsg/3image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="3image" height="365" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/vuJZisTMPw5sXjLQIGoQEYEr4yBG55kOBRZVd1ruN6X2qJRBMAsUT7qHMJ9c/3image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ugEFQFK6HYLmVUd6ohd4z10Gbj4xTpJdHCkRkUAUDHKmkuNR4T68RWwtMY4W/4image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="4image" height="366" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/CqBDGaNv42jB3wwKJ9CIEJ6pNMPBQyce78fVWIZPFRaS7SdW8HpTJaDoOzmw/4image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/FVCs57a8etzUNsekPnyLFMcrefYnC5yYTjjDCHbXLzzZgrxpYEqBBmMuUrp3/5image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="5image" height="368" 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src="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ob4lbiXmY42HR5GcEWkSMBiSp58DBUFLW8kY5VqAfWRG2ISQtYTwJAERUFD8/7image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/qaWzJEpcG3njlrSFgr8T3BBajxNcbEkrOnlyS5PVLb68Z013GRByC1J3Q12F/8image.jpeg"><img alt="8image" height="391" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/b9592nT9t8B6Amj93TtO58KzCgolblFGoFErh8kz9CnWLR3L0AulE3Gy6Uxe/8image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/wOk85yBc9xjZiqrGxZVniiVJ2zA9NUb0KTzBXPTUCUSQ4oN9mpjbpS4GXNeL/9image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="9image" height="397" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/SIzKBt3NnoIVY8baH9aaGGDJF2uFnqRr69SZUu7eYSAK3i13oLeDXFCkXO5a/9image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/bAny2Lo1oI5SXcPBhTFFTrESUE9PC6Q8WAjQOUMqJwvf0UvXLoiI0ohwJF1C/10image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="10image" height="366" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/lYGwQ0PkQ1HInHsFNybtxQSVjdtcxuHqH6d0FhgokinggChVy68uAawdhO3s/10image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Q3vAMIBLdmTaqPJnyFGQ6zDBu5vRCU91I7O5zxNW0hLTjiNaP1YGAPHrZVqG/11image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="11image" height="349" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/TLP39C6Dfqjk6eR8tEoBo2iUYbcpBIWKrzo1map1fnFcxM6rKouuuaxHdbQc/11image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <span style=""><b><i>Ryan</i></b></span><br /><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/travis-ryans-arabian-adventure-the-lost-photo">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1031677095805713833?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-41778991998537352152012-01-01T06:43:00.001Z2012-01-01T06:43:28.115Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mjZCGqQHrWs?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><br /><span></span><br /><span>When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry</span><br /><span>And curse at the wind</span><br /><span>He broke his own heart and I watched</span><br /><span>As he tried to reassemble it</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>And my momma swore that</span><br /><span>She would never let herself forget</span><br /><span>And that was the day that I promised</span><br /><span>I'd never sing of love if it does not exist</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>But darling, you are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul</span><br /><span>That love never lasts</span><br /><span>And we've got to find other ways to make it alone</span><br /><span>Or keep a straight face</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>And I've always lived like this</span><br /><span>Keeping a comfortable distance</span><br /><span>And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness</span><br /><span>Because none of it was ever worth the risk</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>But you are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I've got a tight grip on reality</span><br /><span>But I can't let go of what's in front of me here</span><br /><span>I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up</span><br /><span>Leave me with some kind of proof, it's not a dream, oh</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span>You are the only exception</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>And I'm on my way to believing</span><br />Oh, and I'm on my way to believing <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-the-only-exception-by-paramore">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4177899199853735215?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-24992484853965562112012-01-01T06:38:00.001Z2012-01-01T06:38:45.014Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mjZCGqQHrWs?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p /> When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry <br />And curse at the wind <br />He broke his own heart and I watched <br />As he tried to reassemble it <p /> And my momma swore that <br />She would never let herself forget <br />And that was the day that I promised <br />I'd never sing of love if it does not exist <p /> But darling, you are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <p /> Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul <br />That love never lasts <br />And we've got to find other ways to make it alone <br />Or keep a straight face <p /> And I've always lived like this <br />Keeping a comfortable distance <br />And up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness <br />Because none of it was ever worth the risk <p /> But you are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <p /> I've got a tight grip on reality <br />But I can't let go of what's in front of me here <br />I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up <br />Leave me with some kind of proof, it's not a dream, oh <p /> You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <p /> You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <br />You are the only exception <p /> And I'm on my way to believing <br />Oh, and I'm on my way to believing <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-the-only-exception-by-paramore-ta">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2499248485396556211?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-3804144428423060672011-12-27T13:05:00.001Z2011-12-27T13:05:35.182Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iyEqacBAJjiDqtspHnjhfrvrykzBEmamuknIpzHqyekDqvvfylwtHbnDufIm/image.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="373" src="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iyEqacBAJjiDqtspHnjhfrvrykzBEmamuknIpzHqyekDqvvfylwtHbnDufIm/image.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p> <div class="posterous_quote_citation">via <a href="http://tapbots.com/tweetbot">Tweetbot for iPhone</a></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/i-might-need-to-rename-bertie-ideas-please-th">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-380414442842306067?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-38430721953957227752011-12-26T23:40:00.001Z2011-12-26T23:40:19.101Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/xWEIh1XfYk6XK2dH5HXcxKXcbg2bIRPfJc9W1ioU4byW9rRlVcJQOd9BIcFg/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Photo" height="373" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/8B6lYO9wK22gcqbkRFTZDi0I60KwzswEVPXP5lsNW1J7IaXz6b328GmrGw6U/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><p /><div>This is Bertie. He arrived on Christmas morning in 2011... Travis delivered my new baby safely into the world, and unexpectedly made me a proud new father! Bertie the VW is sat quietly next to Harrison, the BMW at our home in Penarth. They cut quite a cute couple...&nbsp;</div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/meet-bertie-my-new-baby-my-first-car">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3843072195395722775?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-34352610529632539612011-12-26T19:48:00.001Z2011-12-26T19:48:48.785Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><iframe allowfullscreen src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hnOPu0_YWhw?wmode=transparent" frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p /><b>The Scene:</b><p /><div>In Washington DC, at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes.&nbsp;</div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <img alt="Image" height="351" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/TvpxxpqzcmhNKdNrDIcYpcj8nuCfB7cWAdlbfvtKroEo0l3bx01H7eWQEvwZ/image.jpeg" width="440" /> </div> <p /><div>During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>About 4 minutes later:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>The violinist received his first dollar. &nbsp;A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>At 6 minutes:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>At 10 minutes:</b></div><p /><div>A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. &nbsp;The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. &nbsp;This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.</div><p /><div><b>At 45 minutes:</b></div><p /><div>The musician played continuously. &nbsp;Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. &nbsp;About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.</div><p /><div><b>After 1 hour:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>He finished playing and silence took over. &nbsp;No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all...</div><p /><div>No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. &nbsp;He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. &nbsp;Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.</div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/QBMqiWVUdJZarlCVsrLhYVqbf0zWTpFFZfzb3XEFWpgudULdsad1SL64XZF8/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="0image" height="360" src="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/vlRn4tYe0M3hzV1tVPabL9FqHZnqOnWutg5wvCpKNPv9THc3nOcEd2Ye0ASf/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <p /><div>This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>This experiment raised several questions:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>•&nbsp;In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?&nbsp;</div><p /><div>•&nbsp;If so, do we stop to appreciate it?&nbsp;</div><p /><div>•&nbsp;Do we recognise talent in an unexpected context?</div><p /><div>One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:&nbsp;</div><p /><div>If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made;</div><div>How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?</div><p /><div><b>Take time to stop and stare...</b></div><br /><i><span>What is this life if full of care</span><br /><span>We have no time to stand and stare?</span><br /><span>No time to stand beneath the boughs</span><br /><span>And stare as long as sheep, or cows.</span><br /><span>No time to see, when woods we pass,</span><br /><span>Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.</span><br /><span>No time to see, in broad daylight,</span><br /><span>Streams full of stars, like skies at night.</span><br /><span>No time to turn at Beauty's glance,</span><br /><span>And watch her feet, how they can dance.</span><br /><span>No time to wait till her mouth can</span><br /><span>Enrich that smile her eyes began.</span><br /><span>A poor life this, if full of care,</span><br /><span>We have no time to stand and stare.</span></i><p />~ William Henry Davies 1871 - 1940<br /></div><p /><div><span>Read the full piece in the Washington Post:</span></div><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html</a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/we-have-no-time-to-stop-stare-perception-stop-17271">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3435261052963253961?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-44778518201261691712011-12-26T19:43:00.001Z2011-12-26T19:43:31.463Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><span><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/hnOPu0_YWhw?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></span><br /><span></span><br /><b>The Scene:</b><p /><div>In Washington DC, at a Metro Station, on a cold January morning in 2007, this man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes.&nbsp;</div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <img alt="Image" height="351" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/D9cihVtE3NRC6Qp8VuU5w52u6iHY0WV9ykTQecAk1ijBWKtEEJohUjHAtVQ7/image.jpeg" width="440" /> </div> <p /><div>During that time, approximately 2,000 people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After about 3 minutes, a middle-aged man noticed that there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds, and then he hurried on to meet his schedule.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>About 4 minutes later:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>The violinist received his first dollar. &nbsp;A woman threw money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>At 6 minutes:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>At 10 minutes:</b></div><p /><div>A 3-year old boy stopped, but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. &nbsp;The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head the whole time. &nbsp;This action was repeated by several other children, but every parent - without exception - forced their children to move on quickly.</div><p /><div><b>At 45 minutes:</b></div><p /><div>The musician played continuously. &nbsp;Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. &nbsp;About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.</div><p /><div><b>After 1 hour:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>He finished playing and silence took over. &nbsp;No one noticed and no one applauded. There was no recognition at all...</div><p /><div>No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. &nbsp;He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. &nbsp;Two days before, Joshua Bell sold-out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100 each to sit and listen to him play the same music.</div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/W9QCbrhajidxNULblNPRnyUTFwuJZRROA9kMD7rO30Z2iPh6L0l44sWfIYOX/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="0image" height="360" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Kq3a9vUeCkKMnjGuv5LQk2rQy2hJOmkvnQn8IYLbkN92tcw66o10DgUhHX17/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <p /><div>This is a true story. Joshua Bell, playing incognito in the D.C. Metro Station, was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.&nbsp;</div><p /><div><b>This experiment raised several questions:&nbsp;</b></div><p /><div>•&nbsp;In a common-place environment, at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?&nbsp;</div><p /><div>•&nbsp;If so, do we stop to appreciate it?&nbsp;</div><p /><div>•&nbsp;Do we recognise talent in an unexpected context?</div><p /><div>One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:&nbsp;</div><p /><div>If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made;</div><div>How many other things are we missing as we rush through life?</div><p /><div><b>Take time to stop and stare...</b></div><br /><i><span>What is this life if full of care</span><br /><span>We have no time to stand and stare?</span><br /><span>No time to stand beneath the boughs</span><br /><span>And stare as long as sheep, or cows.</span><br /><span>No time to see, when woods we pass,</span><br /><span>Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.</span><br /><span>No time to see, in broad daylight,</span><br /><span>Streams full of stars, like skies at night.</span><br /><span>No time to turn at Beauty's glance,</span><br /><span>And watch her feet, how they can dance.</span><br /><span>No time to wait till her mouth can</span><br /><span>Enrich that smile her eyes began.</span><br /><span>A poor life this, if full of care,</span><br /><span>We have no time to stand and stare.</span></i><br /><span></span><br /><span>~ William Henry Davies 1871 - 1940</span><br /></div><p /><div><span>Read the full piece in the Washington Post:</span></div><a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html">http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html</a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/we-have-no-time-to-stop-stare-perception-stop">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4477851820126169171?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-52972599314640262462011-12-20T13:21:00.001Z2011-12-20T13:21:47.809Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><div class="original-url"><span style="">What do you see, what do you see?&nbsp;</span><br /></div><div><div class="page" style="font-family: Palatino, Georgia, Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Are you thinking, when you look at me- </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> A crabbit old woman, not very wise, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Who dribbles her food and makes no reply </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> When you say in a loud voice, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I do wish you'd try. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Who seems not to notice the things that you do </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> And forever is loosing a stocking or shoe. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Who, unresisting or not; lets you do as you will </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> With bathing and feeding the long day is fill. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Is that what you're thinking, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Is that what you see? </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Then open your eyes, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> nurse, you're looking at me. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still! </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> As I rise at your bidding, as I eat at your will. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I'm a small child of 10 with a father and mother, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Brothers and sisters, who loved one another- </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> A young girl of 16 with wings on her feet, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Dreaming that soon now a lover she'll meet, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> A bride soon at 20- my heart gives a leap, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Remembering the vows that I promised to keep. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> At 25 now I have young of my own </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Who need me to build a secure happy home; </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> A woman of 30, my young now grow fast, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Bound to each other with ties that should last; </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> At 40, my young sons have grown and are gone, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> But my man's beside me to see I don't mourn; </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> At 50 once more babies play around my knee, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Again we know children, my loved one and me. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I look at the future, I shudder with dread, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> For my young are all rearing young of their own. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> And I think of the years and the love that I've known; </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I'm an old woman now and nature is cruel- </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Tis her jest to make old age look like a fool. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> The body is crumbled, grace and vigor depart, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> There is now a stone where I once had a heart, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> And now and again my battered heart swells, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I remember the joy, I remember the pain, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> And I'm loving and living life over again. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> I think of the years all too few- gone too fast. </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> And accept the stark fact that nothing can last- </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> So open your eyes, nurse, open and see, </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> Not a crabbit old woman, look closer- </span><br /><span style="font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"> See Me. </span></div></div></div><div><p /><div><b><i>Ryan</i></b></div><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/just-see-me-the-crabbit-old-woman">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5297259931464026246?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-17232101812505966382011-12-18T01:47:00.001Z2011-12-18T01:47:30.227Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/ZxTtg/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/jIdcaBmhtyyzoksmGcDcpdkDnqnbDikugIByynwkwajzbkrosdmFukkBdtzo/media_httpdistilleryi_xeffE.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_xeffe" height="500" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/jIdcaBmhtyyzoksmGcDcpdkDnqnbDikugIByynwkwajzbkrosdmFukkBdtzo/media_httpdistilleryi_xeffE.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/did-i-mention-ive-changed-both-my-twitter-ins">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1723210181250596638?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-35366002850251929942011-12-18T01:06:00.001Z2011-12-18T01:06:26.226Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/aAjJAebbFEkqsJmqCAEbxJjiBdIsncpDyCBrlxAcrFpBFsgaAJAkhmawvCqy/image.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="445" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/aAjJAebbFEkqsJmqCAEbxJjiBdIsncpDyCBrlxAcrFpBFsgaAJAkhmawvCqy/image.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p> <div class="posterous_quote_citation">via <a href="http://tapbots.com/tweetbot">Tweetbot for iPhone</a></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/this-went-viral-after-stevejobs-died-i-missed">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3536600285025192994?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-81689167121067553662011-12-18T01:04:00.001Z2011-12-18T01:04:23.153Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div>iOS 5.1 hasn't even come out yet, but I've managed to get hold of the newest, unreleased wallpapers for the iPhone 4/4S! There are also hi-res iPad versions - link below. Say hi &amp; thanks!</div><div><br /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/pIrsqPS3BFTuTXMWkF6CUCwNEuEfi7MhGYasnXbH3hiG8T0EIooqWsXhPk6A/photo_1.png"><img alt="Photo_1" height="750" src="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/lJATPlWy9Vaf9XwnOh9JxFVOZ6mya8eXYHXrRarojREkdv9BhQLVYaFTHPzy/photo_1.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/UC3EXRGFglPTwMyEfAPyGBNgrZJnX8VdhJUPpiA3rnkQ2sIWyyk0v763BaY1/photo_2.png"><img alt="Photo_2" height="750" src="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/EuOuxwZe4NtwSAnMO9vPGYNVhVBoXjJpPN3Q9x0R1ZRy9DUE3653GDOu6dHr/photo_2.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/IIoXSTzFvqNb0RHM1kuwKnaYG5c1BZmv5EJ2Dg4J2N90MJECuofi14fGKcqR/photo_3.png"><img alt="Photo_3" height="750" src="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/0cPbb1xjPpZoXM0JPuBart32B7bZB0ofrtaZiMwgcGq1bhAspqgMBGzgDlDN/photo_3.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ANkEWrff0uqtSjgScafcAEaKBMhuh3cP4d5xGmTJSgmr93kHLakDuMUnailj/photo_4.png"><img alt="Photo_4" height="750" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/T3CSh2kE7Azfvp0S6DfDeCLJKWcGDunLgx65uEVLBm2tiRoXPL25rEUQkBnZ/photo_4.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><p /><div>Here's the iPad versions:</div><div><a href="http://feeds.iphonehacks.com/~r/iphonehacks/~3/QJP-AqETPqU/download-wallpapers-for-ipad-and-iphone-from-ios-5-1-now.html">http://feeds.iphonehacks.com/~r/iphonehacks/~3/QJP-AqETPqU/download-wallpapers-for-ipad-and-iphone-from-ios-5-1-now.html</a><p /><div><b><i>Ryan</i></b></div><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/download-official-iphone-ipad-wallpapers-for">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8168916712106755366?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-12305835320233850722011-12-17T09:51:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:51:14.567Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/ZnkII/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ndwHiiBjGjmovkcEfkncAIlHbkmtGyBqwaCIbiGclIBbIensHJGtzjiHDnjc/media_httpdistilleryi_HItaG.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_hitag" height="500" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ndwHiiBjGjmovkcEfkncAIlHbkmtGyBqwaCIbiGclIBbIensHJGtzjiHDnjc/media_httpdistilleryi_HItaG.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/snow-cold-winter-in-wales-postbox-2">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1230583532023385072?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-72488884795827735922011-12-17T09:47:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:47:32.098Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/ZniaX/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GfrqbntvIinyInklAdocvorEwrdfiAvpeqlymzpwvgbbDjqvieunCFcniHnC/media_httpdistilleryi_DDuAq.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_dduaq" height="500" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GfrqbntvIinyInklAdocvorEwrdfiAvpeqlymzpwvgbbDjqvieunCFcniHnC/media_httpdistilleryi_DDuAq.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/snow-cold-winter-in-wales-postbox-1">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7248888479582773592?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-90194446110226581642011-12-17T09:40:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:40:34.177Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/Znfzq/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/FwrwIkeiyqytAndJGtbcAxlGBIlkpfhfGqohwndsBAdbavCFeeGADyfexhJf/media_httpdistilleryi_wtlAI.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_wtlai" height="500" src="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/FwrwIkeiyqytAndJGtbcAxlGBIlkpfhfGqohwndsBAdbavCFeeGADyfexhJf/media_httpdistilleryi_wtlAI.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/snow-cold-winter-in-wales-snowflake-frost">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-9019444611022658164?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-34430137278473114712011-12-17T09:37:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:37:47.143Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/Znen-/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/sceapiEkDvpeognaGJigCvljJxrwvwxxdgnfIbjkfEknAuBgpEJzIFmwiolp/media_httpdistilleryi_bJyur.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_bjyur" height="500" src="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/sceapiEkDvpeognaGJigCvljJxrwvwxxdgnfIbjkfEknAuBgpEJzIFmwiolp/media_httpdistilleryi_bJyur.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/snow-cold-winter-in-wales-the-robin">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3443013727847311471?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-87474646855377234732011-12-17T09:34:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:34:16.916Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/ZncBZ/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mlfBtcsandcIjEvajvABDByhIEzHJecAhFxtGEAzjzaqsrfyuwrazGFfdbpF/media_httpdistilleryi_DwcxB.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_dwcxb" height="500" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mlfBtcsandcIjEvajvABDByhIEzHJecAhFxtGEAzjzaqsrfyuwrazGFfdbpF/media_httpdistilleryi_DwcxB.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/snow-cold-winter-in-wales-moutains">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8747464685537723473?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-13281008192713162842011-12-17T09:27:00.001Z2011-12-17T09:27:15.445Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href="http://instagr.am/p/ZnaOG/"><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/axBjxDHEkvrhsmIpyazprFIFHJmnquzohjfcpqAHJHqzEvnvkswAlJsefHcC/media_httpdistilleryi_oqvIp.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Media_httpdistilleryi_oqvip" height="500" src="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/axBjxDHEkvrhsmIpyazprFIFHJmnquzohjfcpqAHJHqzEvnvkswAlJsefHcC/media_httpdistilleryi_oqvIp.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </a><br />Taken at The Loft <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/what-instagram-fail">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1328100819271316284?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-39678401592411037722011-12-16T21:41:00.001Z2011-12-16T21:41:48.739Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div>Come say hi ~ <a href="http://www.twitter.com/rycariad">www.twitter.com/rycariad</a>&nbsp;<p /><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/nG6ijADSFXalyoR3HLAH2NVUMvHNndtx23GSZJKYYcDlfB2FbTJPY8mLSSNa/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Photo" height="674" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mtG3AqTOaDc9EUpQh2MJbuAJ7YSnyXKKKqg1qxtLqX97qMmLQ5bvhrG1ZHGk/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </div><div><br /><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/my-twitter-username-has-changed-to-rycariad">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3967840159241103772?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-78198697741177828762011-12-09T22:52:00.001Z2011-12-09T22:52:15.149Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div> <p style="font: 17px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif;">Everybody should get this free app by the British Red Cross. Check it out on the App Store:</p> <table border="0"> <tr> <td style="padding-right: 10px; vertical-align: top;"> <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/app/first-aid-by-british-red-cross/id483408666?mt=8&amp;ls=1"> <img src="http://a1992.phobos.apple.com/us/r1000/118/Purple/fe/c2/f0/mzm.gmozijbs.170x170-75.jpg" border="0" height="170" alt="Cover Art" style="" /> </a> </td> <td style="vertical-align: top;"> <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/app/first-aid-by-british-red-cross/id483408666?mt=8&amp;ls=1" style="color: black; text-decoration: none;"> <h1 style="">First aid by British Red Cross</h1> </a><p style="font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; margin: 0 0 2px;">3 Sided Cube</p> <p style="font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; margin: 0 0 2px;">Category: Health &amp; Fitness</p> <p style="font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; margin: 0 0 2px;">Updated: 01 Dec 2011</p> <ul style=""> <li style=""><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/rating-star.png" /></li> <li style=""><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/rating-star.png" /></li> <li style=""><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/rating-star.png" /></li> <li style=""><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/rating-star.png" /></li> <li style=""><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/rating-star.png" /></li> </ul> <span style="display: inline-block; font: bold 11px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; color: #4f5459;"> 191 Ratings</span> <p style="font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; margin: 0 0 8px;"> <img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/game_center_badge.png" /> <span style="vertical-align: top; font: bold 11px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; color: #4f5459;"> Game Center</span> </p> <p style="font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; margin: 0;"> <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/app/first-aid-by-british-red-cross/id483408666?mt=8&amp;ls=1"><img src="http://ax.phobos.apple.com.edgesuite.net/email/images_shared/view_item_button.png" /></a> </p> </td> </tr> </table> <p /> <table align="center"> <tr> <td align="center" valign="top"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; color: #696969; font-weight: bold;"> <a href="http://www.apple.com/uk/itunes/download/" style="color: #1b1b1b;">iTunes for Mac and Windows</a></span></td> </tr> <tr> <td align="center"> <span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 11px; color: #696969;">Please note that you have not been added to any email lists.<br /> Copyright © 2011 iTunes S.à r.l. <a href="http://www.apple.com/uk/legal/" style="color: #1b1b1b;">All rights reserved</a><br /> </span> </td> </tr> </table> </div><div><p /><div><b><i>Ryan</i></b></div><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/save-a-life-first-aid-by-british-red-cross-fr">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7819869774117782876?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-12521210728754082432011-12-05T10:43:00.001Z2011-12-05T10:43:52.022Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>Handcrafted in Wales, Bespoke Christmas Cards for Sale! This week only!<p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/RNAgILfFiVyzadvKvgjjq8dyTHr1CFOdkyJvE5OQcPiDlQfe1f5CWA0xDIsL/image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="669" src="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/WB7hcTzhkKWbfF9kiGXodDJlCaLA9vmDeLcm8LQuhvFAu1eGFAdvaU111IG6/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>If you would like to give someone special that extra special Christmas card and support a very special charity, you can buy them for £4.95 each. You get the card of your choice specially handmade to order, a high-quality envelope and free UK postage. Each card is handmade with Swarovski Crystals, using the highest-quality materials and beautiful craftsmanship. For an extra £1.25 your card can be personalised with your loved-ones name or any short greeting you choose. Payment by PayPay or cheque. First Class dispatch on the same day if order received before 1pm. eBay Store and website coming later today! A generous percentage of sales will be donated to the UK Cystic Fibrosis Trust. To order, email <a href="mailto:ryan@uselessdesires.co.uk">ryan@uselessdesires.co.uk</a> and state what design you want ('Christmas Tree' 'Present' or 'Vintage Tag') and if you would like a personalised greeting added instead of one of our own. Remember to include your name and address and we'll email you back to confirm order & arrange payment. Here are the current designs: <p /> Vintage Tag:</p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/uRLHAeWhHojpYoYVsy7Zwyvx1zWV3Ia9qkrvNjxtRB4uga83vfPKQcmW5dIX/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="0image" height="669" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/2ZwLf5SScfgHqN6LQnNMhitF6pc5AsiScSOkAoYzMWeBW2u11ki8hiGLOdVT/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/5BKXshndzPTUel8s5V2MiD96ANjEz3QUm18kwuEAZX63xYmDB7aDOBVutQIT/1image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="1image" height="669" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/XYMtkBcP2CE0rOmTG8HwRjfmJAg7k42EbJqJjKeRZeP6fkb5Ue0w0nqrfLoV/1image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>Present Box:</p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/74F9QRJ7ioOPOiNGzpgphH4qGEMIOQIEDWhqfXyj5qPqKDYlWAg3oihH5ZKV/2image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="2image" height="669" src="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/6QsfjoC3K3lSYXTXsuccoGFmCNrx2CyO0xJmDHnpSVug2BDGFO0LZMgw9qTb/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile3.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/vxiLwF1a25kk3l0RAHDJSBLny6peu7vUqamAPNIuCn1oGJ7XNAuvypkLcskh/3image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="3image" height="669" src="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/5eTzfTbdheYUoN4PmEdF65VaRoWXKy8dZM6u8JwSOlR70OZ6hlyRSK9v6KyF/3image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>Christmas Tree:</p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile0.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/14U2JAWLylrYYU5PcAbEGEBYPHK1nIfrgOQQqb2xrwy1QWJ9x2uO09eNPVX9/4image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="4image" height="669" src="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/EVcbIAI0OJlW0PlQBGEilnevgPSvkezR0RhZkMc5uQqMtcYYUt3BbT5jIWnF/4image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/QJp5jkzCZzg1N1GuCPoWLtZMtv7dtsdCWDxg0gV4VkGoUZJoODfVPkRpHH8u/5image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="5image" height="669" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/NHytINjz16wAikcox3iOPwHvbXgtJAjH5LsecmkBVrdP3eMyBIhfRpBX5gEA/5image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>More coming soon!</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/for-sale-this-week-only-handcrafted-in-wales">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1252121072875408243?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-22382740636062029052011-12-05T00:53:00.001Z2011-12-05T00:53:51.100Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>Episode 1 ~ Vintage Beach Playtime with Travis &amp; the Poodles (feat. 'Beyond the Sea' by Kathryn Williams):<p /><div><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ieImXzxOWs8?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><br /><div><p /><div style=""><span style="">Episode 2 ~&nbsp;Vintage Beach Playtime with Travis &amp; the Poodles (feat. 'Beasts' by Slow Moving Millie):</span></div></div><p /><span style=""><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ieImXzxOWs8?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></span></div><p /><div style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px;">Walking the dogs, Maggie &amp; Amber with Travis Toogood on our beach in Penarth, Wales, on a blustery day on November 30th, 2011, featuring 'Beyond the Sea' by Kathryn Williams &amp; Adam Lipinski and'Beasts' by Slow Moving Millie.&nbsp;<p style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px;">Filming, editing and post-production © 2011, Ryan Price</p><p style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px;">Tracks available to download on iTunes:</p><p style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 15px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-left: 0px;"><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361">http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361</a><br /></p></div><div style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px;"><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742" title="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742" class="uc" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-decoration: none; display: inline-block;">http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742</a></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/in-film-vintage-beach-playtime-with-travis-th">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2238274063606202905?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-80345220445000572952011-12-05T00:33:00.001Z2011-12-05T00:33:30.797Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>All homemade, hand-crafted, homespun, crafty Christmas cards which I spent most of today designing & making...! What do you think?<p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/TMHZrym8TSu1BGIWyokMR41zSNs08RzsrknR2oghxe8GBCFyX4iOb1QMCmNN/image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="669" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/PxCJDGhy3pI7IilxuR6AEcRS1VUMpOQluqYL2UfY5PshO4RzdbBnKaMNt23t/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/YFHjLb4Dpa9MYW4Ti5GaCoFrEQIad4kVt5hKpq9uOp3rgHfxBox6Oj9bVkVY/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="0image" height="669" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/s9GEklkBdQdGdqjxdPUbxsT7pqTmVWCJHlBx46iOWkiXH2FedLHsDx6FaBuB/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile1.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/lvvEnrjCSKHLsOiPP0CXvxI5XXX31C5oPbGHO7HfiwFTgG14inl5SDtuwSsl/1image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="1image" height="669" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/z9WaJRX908DuWH1cQQoQMY0AfRh5rycCU0FlBoiLi3PWRQSawjNEJ1z8q9jj/1image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile8.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/sn1RqzVnRwVh64ppEyp0OFK1gi0XeWXMbiLmrH0donlu6bJ1UVxo91RLb8dg/2image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="2image" height="669" src="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/opM8rbZNyT9Gw0dKtGxm1FjG7zZeyOAwBbRAraAYA3tRWjVnodKYxu2ioi6J/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile6.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iv2dfrhXNeB4UNc1tttrEUHJ0it4MNa7hnhmYm9ApS124nrXaJUrVmQ6JUxC/3image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="3image" height="669" src="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/xOnFf5HIeacPgnREmvrfr8qViT42iCS6sVBpyB1NRDuxKVxzSod4FaI2ccyI/3image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/H3BffIMTDsh6Aj03KEVJmMr0nYHFWmnbbFQr8ifPHUpnOLt9yi20MZV0dA7T/4image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="4image" height="669" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/bY3Nu235vdVyNPW7q6vQAtX987iK3NIyZq8HCRjB2aqq6l7EMGNnlWmCIyXt/4image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a 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href="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ra6g37sEtu8Z3foRWdSyKkKb6LtLJzIdXdF6COwzgAs8QP8cB4uphvY5a4b4/15image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="15image" height="669" src="http://getfile5.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/NhrGtIAxacpmrpPzgBjGPgwfBYFxlAIIBU5EcYIZbMDgqA0bQQVAjvw2rOWy/15image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile4.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/xDPB1DWsIFmV6wWdujvZvrKqNReuU1wHZhyOQ9kBctAW8SXuUIiUaoaZIKB3/16image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="16image" height="373" src="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/gt2BVYsYMTR5mCDFYPgsTn1NKTCscsuxaPo8k17YunLOUOBmTHiTG22CJmN1/16image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile2.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/TlzX2D6enbRee7SDn28WJf2GiLKKARrXt19vfL0uLKNMB5MuKLDQEc1HU1Bf/17image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="17image" height="373" src="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/UBgKLCo8niSNBz3PrrcCai0ErqySfJZpNiBHpknC0aSsmFZrM3clYuZ5YghA/17image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://getfile9.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/q3sK1Jx5FQyvDFIEaYgOtdRrudl13r5Jo2z4LD8fTFfVn1vqu85Rtk93p2EQ/18image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="18image" height="373" src="http://getfile7.posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/MoT6gXvjAOBDJQEVzVk049elD44DBLOhunMF5xjF9gMgQvKugZ6tGqv6uAyD/18image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/my-hand-crafted-christmas-cards">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8034522044500057295?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-69018773474076776862011-12-03T23:46:00.001Z2011-12-03T23:46:43.337Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ieImXzxOWs8?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></div><div><br />Walking the dogs, Maggie &amp; Amber with Travis Toogood on our beach in Penarth, Wales, on a blustery day on November 30th, 2011, featuring 'Beasts' by Slow Moving Millie.&nbsp;<p />Filming, editing and post-production © 2011, Ryan Price; featuring 'Beasts' © 2011, Slow Moving Millie.&nbsp;<p />Track available to download on iTunes:</div><div><br /><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742" class="uc" title="http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="display: inline-block; text-decoration: none;">http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/beasts-from-virgin-media-tv/id325983742</a><p />Go get it!</div><div><br /><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintage-beach-playtime-with-the-poodles-episo-44737">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6901877347407677686?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-47604929878743879022011-12-03T23:45:00.001Z2011-12-03T23:45:21.354Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/K_54mg8P3vs?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></div><div><br />Walking the dogs, Maggie &amp; Amber with Travis Toogood on our beach in Penarth, Wales, on a blustery day on November 30th, 2011, featuring music by Kathryn Williams and Adam Lipinski<p />Filming, editing and post-production © 2011, Ryan Price; featuring 'Beyond the Sea' © 2011, Kathryn Williams &amp; Adam Lipinski, as used by 'The Cafe' on Sky1. Track available to download on iTunes:<p /><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361" class="uc" title="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="display: inline-block; text-decoration: none;">http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361</a><p />Get it now!<br /><p /><div><span style=""><i>contra omnia discrimina</i></span></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintage-beach-playtime-with-the-poodles-episo">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4760492987874387902?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-66931458540424081052011-12-03T17:41:00.001Z2011-12-03T17:41:04.674Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe allowfullscreen src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UqTAqFNokEI?wmode=transparent" frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p /><div><span style="">Walking the dogs, Maggie &amp; Amber with Travis Toogood on our beach in Penarth, Wales, on a blustery day on November 30th, 2011, featuring music by Kathryn Williams and Adam Lipinski</span></div><p /><div><span style="">Filming, editing and post-production © 2011, Ryan Price; featuring 'Beyond the Sea' © 2011, Kathryn Williams &amp; Adam Lipinski, as used by 'The Cafe' on Sky1. Track available to download on iTunes:</span></div><p /><div><span style=""><a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361" title="http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361" class="uc" rel="nofollow" target="_blank" style="display: inline-block; text-decoration: none;">http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/beyond-sea-from-the-cafe-single/id482714361</a></span></div><p /><div><span style="">Get it now!</span></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintage-beach-playtime-with-the-poodles-feat">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6693145854042408105?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-66871625329394416572011-10-31T11:17:00.001Z2011-10-31T11:17:23.445Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class="original-url"><span style="">A Sister’s Eulogy for Steve Jobs</span><br /></div><div class="original-url"><i><span style="">~ by&nbsp;</span><span style=""><b>Mona Simpson</b></span></i></div><div><div class="page" style="font-family: Palatino, Georgia, Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: 19px; line-height: 1.4;"><p> I grew up as an only child, with a single mother. Because we were poor and because I knew my father had emigrated from Syria, I imagined he looked like Omar Sharif. I hoped he would be rich and kind and would come into our lives (and our not yet furnished apartment) and help us. Later, after I’d met my father, I tried to believe he’d changed his number and left no forwarding address because he was an idealistic revolutionary, plotting a new world for the Arab people. </p> <p> Even as a feminist, my whole life I’d been waiting for a man to love, who could love me. For decades, I’d thought that man would be my father. When I was 25, I met that man and he was my brother. </p><p> By then, I lived in New York, where I was trying to write my first novel. I had a job at a small magazine in an office the size of a closet, with three other aspiring writers. When one day a lawyer called me — me, the middle-class girl from California who hassled the boss to buy us health insurance — and said his client was rich and famous and was my long-lost brother, the young editors went wild. This was 1985 and we worked at a cutting-edge literary magazine, but I’d fallen into the plot of a Dickens novel and really, we all loved those best. The lawyer refused to tell me my brother’s name and my colleagues started a betting pool. The leading candidate: John Travolta. I secretly hoped for a literary descendant of Henry James — someone more talented than I, someone brilliant without even trying. </p><p> When I met Steve, he was a guy my age in jeans, Arab- or Jewish-looking and handsomer than Omar Sharif. </p><p> We took a long walk — something, it happened, that we both liked to do. I don’t remember much of what we said that first day, only that he felt like someone I’d pick to be a friend. He explained that he worked in computers. </p><p> I didn’t know much about computers. I still worked on a manual Olivetti typewriter. </p><p> I told Steve I’d recently considered my first purchase of a computer: something called the Cromemco. </p><p> Steve told me it was a good thing I’d waited. He said he was making something that was going to be insanely beautiful. </p><p> I want to tell you a few things I learned from Steve, during three distinct periods, over the 27 years I knew him. They’re not periods of years, but of states of being. His full life. His illness. His dying. </p><p> Steve worked at what he loved. He worked really hard. Every day. </p><p> That’s incredibly simple, but true. </p><p> He was the opposite of absent-minded. </p><p> He was never embarrassed about working hard, even if the results were failures. If someone as smart as Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit trying, maybe I didn’t have to be. </p><p> When he got kicked out of Apple, things were painful. He told me about a dinner at which 500 Silicon Valley leaders met the then-sitting president. Steve hadn’t been invited. </p><p> He was hurt but he still went to work at Next. Every single day. </p><p> Novelty was not Steve’s highest value. Beauty was. </p><p> For an innovator, Steve was remarkably loyal. If he loved a shirt, he’d order 10 or 100 of them. In the Palo Alto house, there are probably enough black cotton turtlenecks for everyone in this church. </p><p> He didn’t favor trends or gimmicks. He liked people his own age. </p><p> His philosophy of aesthetics reminds me of a quote that went something like this: “Fashion is what seems beautiful now but looks ugly later; art can be ugly at first but it becomes beautiful later.” </p><p> Steve always aspired to make beautiful later. </p><p> He was willing to be misunderstood. </p><p> Uninvited to the ball, he drove the third or fourth iteration of his same black sports car to Next, where he and his team were quietly inventing the platform on which Tim Berners-Lee would write the program for the World Wide Web. </p><p> Steve was like a girl in the amount of time he spent talking about love. Love was his supreme virtue, his god of gods. He tracked and worried about the romantic lives of the people working with him. </p><p> Whenever he saw a man he thought a woman might find dashing, he called out, “Hey are you single? Do you wanna come to dinner with my sister?” </p><p> I remember when he phoned the day he met Laurene. “There’s this beautiful woman and she’s really smart and she has this dog and I’m going to marry her.” </p><p> When Reed was born, he began gushing and never stopped. He was a physical dad, with each of his children. He fretted over Lisa’s boyfriends and Erin’s travel and skirt lengths and Eve’s safety around the horses she adored. </p><p> None of us who attended Reed’s graduation party will ever forget the scene of Reed and Steve slow dancing. </p><p> His abiding love for Laurene sustained him. He believed that love happened all the time, everywhere. In that most important way, Steve was never ironic, never cynical, never pessimistic. I try to learn from that, still. </p><p> Steve had been successful at a young age, and he felt that had isolated him. Most of the choices he made from the time I knew him were designed to dissolve the walls around him. A middle-class boy from Los Altos, he fell in love with a middle-class girl from New Jersey. It was important to both of them to raise Lisa, Reed, Erin and Eve as grounded, normal children. Their house didn’t intimidate with art or polish; in fact, for many of the first years I knew Steve and Lo together, dinner was served on the grass, and sometimes consisted of just one vegetable. Lots of that one vegetable. But one. Broccoli. In season. Simply prepared. With just the right, recently snipped, herb. </p><p> Even as a young millionaire, Steve always picked me up at the airport. He’d be standing there in his jeans. </p><p> When a family member called him at work, his secretary Linetta answered, “Your dad’s in a meeting. Would you like me to interrupt him?” </p><p> When Reed insisted on dressing up as a witch every Halloween, Steve, Laurene, Erin and Eve all went wiccan. </p><p> They once embarked on a kitchen remodel; it took years. They cooked on a hotplate in the garage. The Pixar building, under construction during the same period, finished in half the time. And that was it for the Palo Alto house. The bathrooms stayed old. But — and this was a crucial distinction — it had been a great house to start with; Steve saw to that. </p><p> This is not to say that he didn’t enjoy his success: he enjoyed his success a lot, just minus a few zeros. He told me how much he loved going to the Palo Alto bike store and gleefully realizing he could afford to buy the best bike there. </p><p> And he did. </p><p> Steve was humble. Steve liked to keep learning. </p><p> Once, he told me if he’d grown up differently, he might have become a mathematician. He spoke reverently about colleges and loved walking around the Stanford campus. In the last year of his life, he studied a book of paintings by Mark Rothko, an artist he hadn’t known about before, thinking of what could inspire people on the walls of a future Apple campus. </p><p> Steve cultivated whimsy. What other C.E.O. knows the history of English and Chinese tea roses and has a favorite David Austin rose? </p><p> He had surprises tucked in all his pockets. I’ll venture that Laurene will discover treats — songs he loved, a poem he cut out and put in a drawer — even after 20 years of an exceptionally close marriage. I spoke to him every other day or so, but when I opened The New York Times and saw a feature on the company’s patents, I was still surprised and delighted to see a sketch for a perfect staircase. </p><p> With his four children, with his wife, with all of us, Steve had a lot of fun. </p><p> He treasured happiness. </p><p> Then, Steve became ill and we watched his life compress into a smaller circle. Once, he’d loved walking through Paris. He’d discovered a small handmade soba shop in Kyoto. He downhill skied gracefully. He cross-country skied clumsily. No more. </p><p> Eventually, even ordinary pleasures, like a good peach, no longer appealed to him. </p><p> Yet, what amazed me, and what I learned from his illness, was how much was still left after so much had been taken away. </p><p> I remember my brother learning to walk again, with a chair. After his liver transplant, once a day he would get up on legs that seemed too thin to bear him, arms pitched to the chair back. He’d push that chair down the Memphis hospital corridor towards the nursing station and then he’d sit down on the chair, rest, turn around and walk back again. He counted his steps and, each day, pressed a little farther. </p><p> Laurene got down on her knees and looked into his eyes. </p><p> “You can do this, Steve,” she said. His eyes widened. His lips pressed into each other. </p><p> He tried. He always, always tried, and always with love at the core of that effort. He was an intensely emotional man. </p><p> I realized during that terrifying time that Steve was not enduring the pain for himself. He set destinations: his son Reed’s graduation from high school, his daughter Erin’s trip to Kyoto, the launching of a boat he was building on which he planned to take his family around the world and where he hoped he and Laurene would someday retire. </p><p> Even ill, his taste, his discrimination and his judgment held. He went through 67 nurses before finding kindred spirits and then he completely trusted the three who stayed with him to the end. Tracy. Arturo. Elham. </p><p> One time when Steve had contracted a tenacious pneumonia his doctor forbid everything — even ice. We were in a standard I.C.U. unit. Steve, who generally disliked cutting in line or dropping his own name, confessed that this once, he’d like to be treated a little specially. </p><p> I told him: Steve, this is special treatment. </p><p> He leaned over to me, and said: “I want it to be a little more special.” </p><p> Intubated, when he couldn’t talk, he asked for a notepad. He sketched devices to hold an iPad in a hospital bed. He designed new fluid monitors and x-ray equipment. He redrew that not-quite-special-enough hospital unit. And every time his wife walked into the room, I watched his smile remake itself on his face. </p><p> For the really big, big things, you have to trust me, he wrote on his sketchpad. He looked up. You have to. </p><p> By that, he meant that we should disobey the doctors and give him a piece of ice. </p><p> None of us knows for certain how long we’ll be here. On Steve’s better days, even in the last year, he embarked upon projects and elicited promises from his friends at Apple to finish them. Some boat builders in the Netherlands have a gorgeous stainless steel hull ready to be covered with the finishing wood. His three daughters remain unmarried, his two youngest still girls, and he’d wanted to walk them down the aisle as he’d walked me the day of my wedding. </p><p> We all — in the end — die in medias res. In the middle of a story. Of many stories. </p><p> I suppose it’s not quite accurate to call the death of someone who lived with cancer for years unexpected, but Steve’s death was unexpected for us. </p><p> What I learned from my brother’s death was that character is essential: What he was, was how he died. </p><p> Tuesday morning, he called me to ask me to hurry up to Palo Alto. His tone was affectionate, dear, loving, but like someone whose luggage was already strapped onto the vehicle, who was already on the beginning of his journey, even as he was sorry, truly deeply sorry, to be leaving us. </p><p> He started his farewell and I stopped him. I said, “Wait. I’m coming. I’m in a taxi to the airport. I’ll be there.” </p><p> “I’m telling you now because I’m afraid you won’t make it on time, honey.” </p><p> When I arrived, he and his Laurene were joking together like partners who’d lived and worked together every day of their lives. He looked into his children’s eyes as if he couldn’t unlock his gaze. </p><p> Until about 2 in the afternoon, his wife could rouse him, to talk to his friends from Apple. </p><p> Then, after awhile, it was clear that he would no longer wake to us. </p><p> His breathing changed. It became severe, deliberate, purposeful. I could feel him counting his steps again, pushing farther than before. </p><p> This is what I learned: he was working at this, too. Death didn’t happen to Steve, he achieved it. </p><p> He told me, when he was saying goodbye and telling me he was sorry, so sorry we wouldn’t be able to be old together as we’d always planned, that he was going to a better place. </p><p> Dr. Fischer gave him a 50/50 chance of making it through the night. </p><p> He made it through the night, Laurene next to him on the bed sometimes jerked up when there was a longer pause between his breaths. She and I looked at each other, then he would heave a deep breath and begin again. </p><p> This had to be done. Even now, he had a stern, still handsome profile, the profile of an absolutist, a romantic. His breath indicated an arduous journey, some steep path, altitude. </p><p> He seemed to be climbing. </p><p> But with that will, that work ethic, that strength, there was also sweet Steve’s capacity for wonderment, the artist’s belief in the ideal, the still more beautiful later. </p><p> Steve’s final words, hours earlier, were monosyllables, repeated three times. </p><p> Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them. </p><p> Steve’s final words were: </p><p> OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW. </p><p> </p><div> <p style="font-style: italic;">Mona Simpson is a novelist and a professor of English at the University of California, Los Angeles. She delivered this eulogy for her brother, Steve Jobs, on Oct. 16 at his memorial service at the Memorial Church of Stanford University.&nbsp;</p></div></div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/a-sisters-eulogy-for-steve-jobs-by-mona-simps">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6687162532939441657?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-81961502839671091882011-10-04T21:57:00.001+01:002011-10-04T21:57:27.950+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/t5THMr7YbEM?wmode=transparent" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/wherever-you-may-go-by-charlene-soraia">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8196150283967109188?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-75351479118852823512011-09-02T15:23:00.001+01:002011-09-02T15:23:24.858+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/cj85C8VQRWo" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p /> Norwegian singer Ane Brun's new single, Do You Remember, is set to be <br />released via Balloon Ranger Records on on July 25th 2011; it's taken <br />from the upcoming album 'It All Starts With One", which will follow in <br />October. Ane Brun - real name Ane Brunvoll, started writing songs <br />while studying in Bergen, Norway, in between working in bars and <br />record shops. Her debut album, 'Spending Time With Morgan', was <br />released in 2003 in 11 European countries. Her second album, 'A <br />Temporary Dive' was issued throughout Europe, Japan, Australia and the <br />US in 2005, where it received incredibly positive reviews. Ane's most <br />recent studio album, 'The Changing of the Seasons', came out in 2008 <br />and featured the single The Treehouse Song and The Fall. <p /> As well as all this, Ane has also released a collaborative album, <br />'Duets', recorded with some of the artists she admires including <br />Teitur and Ron Sexsmith. She has also received 2 Norwegian Grammys, <br />including one for Best Female Artist. Her forthcoming album 'It All <br />Starts with One' serves as the basis for a short film, 'One'. The <br />video for her single serves as the first chapter to be released from <br />the film, which will premiere in autumn 2011. <p /> Ane Brun has also announced a European tour, to start in October, with <br />UK dates in November, which are as follows: <p /> November 9th Deaf Institute, Manchester, UK <br />November 10th King Tuts, Glasgow, UK <br />November 11th HMV Institute - The Library, Birmingham, UK <br />November 12th Scala, London, UK <p /> "Ane Brun was moving out of the traditional singer-songwriter suit as <br />early as the last album, Changing of the Seasons, and Tobias Froberg <br />completes that trip, and It All Starts With One allows for his own <br />sound to be taken to a new level. He hired two drummers, Per Eklund <br />(Lykke Li, Miike Snow) and Ola Hultgren (Loney Dear, thus Owls) to <br />play together on most of the album’s songs. Martin Hederos (Soundtrack <br />Of Our Lives, Tonbruket) was behind the organs. A large part of what <br />takes place in the musical arrangements is due to the interaction <br />between the evocative rhythm section and Hederos’ soaring piano. <br />Froberg only wanted bass on a single song, creating space and movement <br />for Ane’s exceptional voice, which was flanked by, among others, the <br />sisters from First Aid Kid (Do You Remember) and José González <br />(Worship).Some of the songs were completed by January 2011, but most <br />have been written in Ane’s writing studio in Stockholm in the January <br />/ February period of 2011. It was at this time that the Arab <br />revolution started and Ane spoke of how affected she was by the <br />courage and energy that people showed the world.It All Starts With One <br />explored the dynamics involved in trying to find balance between <br />embracing the independent without feeling lonely, and to keep oneself <br />and ones core intact, whilst wanting to help someone in need." <p /> <iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1lI30Qw69AQ" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p /> Track Listing: <p /> 01. Ane Brun - These Days (4:38) <br />02. Ane Brun - Words (4:25) <br />03. Ane Brun - Worship (6:01) <br />04. Ane Brun - Do You Remember (3:12) <br />05. Ane Brun - What's Happening With You And (4:36) <br />06. Ane Brun - Lifeline (3:04) <br />07. Ane Brun - One (3:19) <br />08. Ane Brun - The Light From One (5:21) <br />09. Ane Brun - Oh Love (4:18) <br />10. Ane Brun - Undertow (6:31) <p /> <iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TRveAaVatbI" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-uk-tour-dates-and-new-album-ane-b">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7535147911885282351?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-10606758556145299692011-08-29T13:23:00.001+01:002011-08-29T13:23:45.353+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><p></p><p></p><p>What is this life if full of care</p><p>We have no time to stand and stare?</p><p>No time to stand beneath the boughs</p><p>And stare as long as sheep, or cows.</p><p>No time to see, when woods we pass,</p><p>Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.</p><p>No time to see, in broad daylight,</p><p>Streams full of stars, like skies at night.</p><p>No time to turn at Beauty's glance,</p><p>And watch her feet, how they can dance.</p><p>No time to wait till her mouth can</p><p>Enrich that smile her eyes began.</p><p>A poor life this, if full of care,</p><p>We have no time to stand and stare.</p><p><br /></p><p>© William Henry Davies 1871 - 1940</p><p><br /></p><p>~ Contra Omnia Discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/poem-time-to-stop-and-stare">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1060675855614529969?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-59893082493830466362011-08-04T22:34:00.001+01:002011-08-04T22:34:31.965+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GcIdiepvhgiIzigJpfJgdyakFeeDjfJizcnbyhpotuqaAFGvBCdtEjlxJAqa/p1210.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="P1210" height="201" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/GcIdiepvhgiIzigJpfJgdyakFeeDjfJizcnbyhpotuqaAFGvBCdtEjlxJAqa/p1210.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p>We swing ungirded hips, <br />And lightened are our eyes, <br />The rain is on our lips, <br />We do not run for prize. <br />We know not whom we trust,<br />Nor whitherward we fare, <br />But we run because we must,<br />Through the great wide air. <p>The waters of the seas, <br />Are troubled as by storm. <br />The tempest strips the trees,<br />And does not leave them warm. <br />Does the tearing tempest pause? <br />Do the tree-tops ask it why? <br />So we run without a cause,<br />'Neath the big bare sky. </p><p>The rain is on our lips, <br />We do not run for prize. <br />But the storm the water whips,<br />And the wave howls to the skies. <br />The winds arise and strike it,<br />And scatter it like sand, <br />And we run because we like it,<br />Through the broad bright land. </p><p>© Charles Hamilton Sorley </p><p>contra omnia discrimina, amor vincit omnia</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/charles-hamilton-sorley-the-song-of-the-ungir">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5989308249383046636?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-35981838812321609452011-08-04T22:30:00.001+01:002011-08-04T22:30:45.580+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <img alt="Image" height="317" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/YxyCdkHy0SbxZxy5ILtpQ6wzURzYfSDuHdEgORuJqQlTnmIMKBQ4o9XhxVaJ/image.jpeg" width="320" /> </div> <p>Alfred Noyes (1880-1958) <br />The Highwayman <p /> PART ONE <p /> I <p /> THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door. <p /> II <p /> He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin; They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh! And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle, His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky. <p /> III <p /> Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred; He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. <p /> IV <p /> And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked; His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay, But he loved the landlord's daughter, The landlord's red-lipped daughter, Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say— <p /> V <p /> "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way." <p /> VI <p /> He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!) Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West. <p /> PART TWO <p /> I <p /> He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon; And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A red-coat troop came marching— Marching—marching— King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door. <p /> II <p /> They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed; Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side! There was death at every window; And hell at one dark window; For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride. <p /> III <p /> They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest; They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say— Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight; I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way! <p /> IV <p /> She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, Cold, on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers! <p /> V <p /> The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest! Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast, She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again; For the road lay bare in the moonlight; Blank and bare in the moonlight; And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain . <p /> VI <p /> Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear; Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding, Riding, riding! The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still! <p /> VII <p /> Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light! Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her musket shattered the moonlight, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death. <p /> VIII <p /> He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood! Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. <p /> IX <p /> Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat, When they shot him down on the highway, Down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat. <p /> * * * * * * <p /> X <p /> And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding— Riding—riding— A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. <p /> XI <p /> Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard; He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred; He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. <p /> The above poem can be found in print, for example, in: <br />Noyes, Alfred. Collected Poems. New York: Frederick A. <br />Stokes Company, 1913. <br />A recording of the poem being sung can be found on: <p /> McKennitt, Loreena. The Book of Secrets [CD]. Burbank, CA: <br />Warner Bros. Records Inc., 1997. <br />Ryan ✗✗ <p /> contra omnia discrimina <p />  Sent from my iPhone 4</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-highwayman-by-alfred-noyes-1880-1958">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3598183881232160945?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-30606918067650307122011-07-31T00:59:00.001+01:002011-07-31T00:59:10.024+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xUBYzpCNQ1I" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></div><p /><p /><div><span style="">This is the first day of my life</span><br /></div><span style="">I swear I was born right in the doorway<br />I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed<br />They're spreading blankets on the beach<p />Yours is the first face that I saw<br />I think I was blind before I met you<br />Now I don’t know where I am&nbsp;<br />I don’t know where I’ve been<br />But I know where I want to go<p />And so I thought I’d let you know<br />That these things take forever<br />I especially am slow<br />But I realize that I need you&nbsp;<br />And I wondered if I could come home<p />Remember the time you drove all night<br />Just to meet me in the morning<br />And I thought it was strange you said everything changed<br />You felt as if you'd just woke up&nbsp;<br />And you said “this is the first day of my life<br />I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you&nbsp;<br />But now I don’t care I could go anywhere with you<br />And I’d probably be happy”<p />So if you want to be with me<br />With these things there’s no telling<br />We just have to wait and see<br />But I’d rather be working for a paycheck<br />Than waiting to win the lottery<br />Besides maybe this time is different<br />I mean I really think you like me</span><p /><div><span style="">{</span><span style="">Dedicated to Travis</span><span style="">}</span></div><p /><div><span style="">•••</span></div><p /><div style=""><div class="quoteText" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px;">"Love anything, and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to be sure of keeping your heart intact you must give your heart to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries, avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safely in the casket of your selfishness. And in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will not change, it will not be broken. It will become unbreakable, impenetrable and irredeemable. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the dangers of love is hell. "&nbsp;<br />—&nbsp;<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis" style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0); text-decoration: none;">C.S. Lewis</a></div><div class="quoteText" style="font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 5px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px;">~ Contra Omnia Discrimina ~</div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-bright-eyes-first-day-of-m">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3060691806765030712?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-73422866770131388632011-07-21T00:09:00.001+01:002011-07-21T00:09:09.156+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><div style=""><p><span class="head1" style="font-size: 24px; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(65, 89, 65);">On Marriage</span></p></div><br /><i>&nbsp;Kahlil Gibran</i>You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.<br />You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.<br />Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.<br />But let there be spaces in your togetherness,<br />And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.&nbsp;<p />Love one another, but make not a bond of love:<br />Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.<br />Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.<br />Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf<br />Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,<br />Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.&nbsp;<p />Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.<br />For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.<br />And stand together yet not too near together:<br />For the pillars of the temple stand apart,<br />And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.<p /><div><span style="">•••</span></div><p /><div><span style="">contra omnia discrimina</span></div><div><span style="">with thanks and love to Laura</span></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/kahlil-gibran-on-marriage">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7342286677013138863?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-55973966006754727542011-07-11T22:46:00.001+01:002011-07-11T22:46:19.068+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iZUO9CTB0W8ygXxTai2jRNghUVm5r8xODfYLZpANOH3Soe04sM8phsAVcrkj/image.jpeg"><img alt="Image" height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/I2fDDmGxZOhZ2lK222N3diPrCGWlefVikhKfhpdXbFCb4bLgCBzb0rYGWhyZ/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> <p><div class='p_embed p_audio_embed'> <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-lyrics-dolly-parton-together-you-and-i"><img alt="" src="http://posterous.com/images/filetypes/mp3.png" /></a> <div class='p_embed_description'> <span class='p_id3'><strong>Together You And I</strong> by Dolly Parton</span> <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-lyrics-dolly-parton-together-you-and-i">Listen on Posterous</a> </div> </div> </p><p>My love for you is deeper than the depths of any ocean, And as faithful as the stars that grace the night, As constant as the sun making its journey through heavens, and we'll always be together you and I. [Chorus] Together you and I can stop the rain and make the sun shine. Paint a pretty rainbow, brushed with love across the sky, Together you and I belong, like a songbird and a song and we'll always be together you and I Life with you is sweeter than the fragrance of the flowers And as happy as the laughter of a child As peaceful as a river and as lasting as forever <br />you know we'll always be together you and I [Chorus] I always be beside or close behind you. Wherever you go, you'll always know I'll always find you [Chorus] We'll always be together, you and I Forever together, forever you and I (forever you and I) Forever together, together you and I will always be (together, together) Together, you and I... <p /> ~~~ <p /> {Contra Omnia Discrimina} <br />Dedicated to Travis Toogood for asking me the question of all questions on the 4th July 2011 - Our Independence Day.</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-lyrics-dolly-parton-together-you-and-i">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5597396600675472754?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-74131237221340290412011-07-03T22:32:00.001+01:002011-07-03T22:32:48.205+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/7EUytEX_XkE" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe></div><p /><span style=""><b><b>WWII RADIO SONG AS PERFORMED BY THE OVALTINEYS &amp; GRACIE FIELDS<p />Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye.<br />Cheerio, here I go, on my way.<p />Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye.<br />With a cheer, not a tear,make it gay.<p />Give me a smile,I can keep for a while,<br />In my heart while I'm away.<p />Till we meet once again you and I,<br />Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye.<p />Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye.<br />Cheerio, here I go, on my way<p />Wish me luck, as you wave me goodbye.<br />With a cheer, not a tear, make it gay<p />Give me a smile, I can keep for a while,<br />In my heart while I'm away.<br />Till we meet once again You and I</b></b></span><div><span style="">Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye</span></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/gracie-fields-wish-me-luck-as-you-wave-me-goo">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7413123722134029041?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-84033456680146050882011-06-30T18:41:00.001+01:002011-06-30T18:41:03.825+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/tsrylitkayycthHclfmdAxvsGazwrpcBbkrfyAkykasrhzwAsnpvAkxDzmCb/image.jpg.scaled1000.jpg"><img alt="Image" height="500" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/tsrylitkayycthHclfmdAxvsGazwrpcBbkrfyAkykasrhzwAsnpvAkxDzmCb/image.jpg.scaled500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p> <div class="posterous_quote_citation">via <a href="http://tapbots.com/tweetbot">Tweetbot for iPhone</a></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/sev0flurane-hey-its-not-wet-its-very-hot-sunn">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8403345668014605088?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-62709453712687367392011-06-20T23:38:00.001+01:002011-06-20T23:38:30.836+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zhLgkpEEEYM" allowfullscreen frameborder="0" height="417" width="500"></iframe><p>I wish I had one last try <br />hidden somewhere inside <br />but it’s all been spent before</p><p>When I reach for it <br />I can sense it in my hand <br />and when I try to grasp it it’s like sand – or water through my hopeful fingers</p><p>This just won’t hold – hold <br />This just won’t hold – hold </p><p>There’s something so half-full about us <br />we get so little but what we get it tastes so much <br />we’re always longing for more </p><p>Is this the end of the thread? <br />the thread that led me to loose my head over something that started with wonder </p><p>This just won’t hold – hold...</p><p>And even if a butterfly lives a hundred years <br />Or the stream of water turns around in the rivers</p><p>You and me – we’ll still be the same <br />You and me – we’ll still be the same</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-lyrics-one-last-try-ane-brun-anebun">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6270945371268736739?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-78097605582893363702011-05-30T22:47:00.001+01:002011-05-30T22:47:51.748+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'>My friendly crow - dream diary... <p>The first part of the dream saw me freaking out at the thought of having a dozen large stag-bettles in jeans pocket which I had happily bought in the pet shop earlier that day. I ran into my childhood garden and took off my jeans outside, shaking them to get the beattles out. They scattered out of the pocket; they were dead. </p><p>Then, I dreamed I found a dead crow in the garden of my childhood home. I brought the dead crow in and he was in a plastic bag. The next part of the dream showed me that my father had washed the crow in the kitchen sink and left it to dry on the draining board. Miraculously, after the crow dried out, he became ALIVE. He and I bonded and he was a friendly crow. I fed him cat biscuits and sliced turkey which he ate in quite a hungry cat-like way, focussing on getting at the meat first. He wanted more but my mother let him out and he flew away. I hoped he would do well, my friend the crow. </p><p>Then I was woken up. </p><p>Although strange, it felt a significant dream and very vivid on waking up. The dream was hazy and in black and white.</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/my-recurring-dream">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7809760558289336370?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-71179070324219714592011-04-06T20:08:00.001+01:002011-04-06T20:08:46.691+01:00<div class='posterous_autopost'>Written on a handrail, this angst-ridden teen love graffiti was found today in Penarth, on the steep steps above the esplanade (near the Bay Leaf Restaurant) leading to Alexandra Park. Transcription below...<p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/o0qoHlmA40xDwfbtuECJyaJePA2xQkE9VCGlMpdVM42yQdq8Zd4jhrsIyFuT/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg"><img alt="Photo" height="373" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/j8meVOrFAVwg5DoP9dXVKrPpN2qEa0BkISdzm9lsH9tIZY3rCFjShSR3C74D/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>"Mickey, I'll be easy going, you can do what you want, see the boys as much as you want, I'll never hit you except in play-fights where I batter you! When I look into your eyes I know what I want, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I've messed up but please I'll do whatever you want. You will always be my best friend and I won't control you, I'll never give up on you, and if turtlepillar does die completely then I'll still come down here and think of you. I can't live without you, it's so hard to know that you're not mine. Please don't give up on me baby. I want you so badly, I love you xxxx" <p /> Who's Mickey? Who wrote this? More curiously, who (or what) is 'turtlepillar?' contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/photo-teen-angst-a-graffiti-love-plea">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7117907032421971459?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-73878200581403549512011-03-25T19:38:00.001Z2011-03-25T19:38:50.903Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><span style="">Zan Anselmo, a friend, writer, artist and fellow CFS advocate wrote the following short observation on what love really is. I found it profound, accurate, personal, insightful and incredibly honest. It actually brought a tear to my eye through it's insightfulness. She kindly agreed to sharing it here:</span></div><p /><div><span style="">I KNOW WHAT LOVE IS</span></div><div><span style="">- Zan Anselmo&nbsp;</span></div><p /><div><span style="">I woke up and realized the script I was writing is a fake. I lost myself in delusional dreams, but now, I'm finally awake. Because what I thought was love, was never really love. I thought the ache in my heart was an indicator that this is real. I thought misery is what love makes you feel. But I woke up, and realized I didn't know what love is. I thought love was something bad, and I wished it was something I never had. But I woke up, and finally figured out what love is. And love was never about me, or searching for someone to set me free. Love is about waking up from your own dream, and seeing people as they truly are. It's about loving them unconditionally from your heart. And love isn't about hating someone that doesn't serve your needs, and love isn't about what you can do for me. I woke up and finally figured out what love is. And everywhere I turn, people are writing their own unique scripts and stories, full of pain, jealously, envy, remorse and sorrow….and they sit there wishing, praying they'll find love tomorrow. But I know, love does not suffer and love does not hate. Love is patient, and love will wait. And I woke up, and finally figured out what love is. No one seems to see it, no one seems to feel it, because they keep searching outside. And when these external forces wound them, they quickly run and hide. But I woke up today, and finally knew what love was, and I knew it was love, because I watched the pain dissipate from my soul.</span></div><p /><div><span style=""></span><span style="">contra omnia discrimina</span></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/guest-author-zan-anselmo-on-what-love-really">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7387820058140354951?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-70451361975785238822011-03-05T14:30:00.001Z2011-03-05T14:30:10.230Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>A sad day has finally come. I have very little option but to find new homes for two of my cats - Freddie & Flo. Some of my readers will know that after living in England for 11 years, I moved back in my with parents in Wales just before Christmas, bringing my cats with me. The move was unplanned, due to unfortunate personal & family reasons. After 3 months of constant perseverance, it's now clear that two of my cats are unhappy in their new temporary home. More seriously, this is compounded by members of my family having a long-term respiratory condition and they have been finding that the cats are making this breathing condition worse. So now, I'm facing up to the stark reality that my two cats would be much happier in new, loving homes. It almost breaks my heart, but I must try and do what's best for the cats and the health of my family. Here's a little information on the two much-loved cats in need of a new home... <p /> ••• <p /> Flo:<p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/a27kE1fK15Gae8QyNLGnfz4V4PQ4KLQjXV9wzyMk1g6he6Nj0PmJO37xkG2b/image.jpeg"><img alt="Image" height="400" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ERHjlGlW92KbEMzUyRK6IBRH0zOmGfD508lGiKy0vOn07ioyRco5nlz9qoms/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>Flo was born on a farm in Peterborough in August 2006. She is 5 years old. She is a pretty silver/grey domestic shorthair with green eyes. She's quite small and slender, but perfectly healthy and vaccinated. She was sterilised as a young adult, so cannot have kittens. She has a loving personality but can sometimes be a bit fearful. On a one-to-one basis, she is very affectionate, loving and loyal but sometimes struggles with other animals. She is very clean and house trained, and uses a litter tray/dirt box. She used to go outside a lot, but since moving to Wales, she has lost confidence. Ideally, Flo would be more suited to being placed in a home with no existing pets, although with the right owner, she can be adaptable. She just needs love, and gives plenty of affection in return. Both cats live near Ebbw Vale, South Wales. They would be more suited to being homed separately. Contact details at the end... <p /> ••• <p /> Freddie:</p><p><div class='p_embed p_image_embed'> <a href="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/X5SKjlImra9zbjGI41Ek92RwxgnrFFDz6mTEB7k8ZR2rT8jXh4oJQ3wSZdEZ/0image.jpeg"><img alt="0image" height="334" src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mhFuQC3j9lTB7Yk888vU8JzVsUym6BKVDByS6v5tFqVpsEpbOVTEITw6o2cQ/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" /></a> </div> </p><p>Freddie was adopted in Leicester as a young male cat when he was about a year old. He is currently about 2 years old; he's a handsome white/brown domestic shorthair. I don't know when he was born, but since adoption, his vaccinations are up-to-date and he has been sterilised, so he doesn't 'spray' or mark territory and cannot create pregnancies in female cats. Freddie is an incredibly affectionate, amazingly gentle little boy. He can be quite timid but loves people. He has cloudy eyes from an eye-infection before I adopted him, but his vision seems okay. Freddie needs a loving home, but he might struggle with boisterous children. He is house-trained, very quiet and clean. He's easy to fall in love with. Both cats live near Ebbw Vale, South Wales. They would be more suited to being homed separately. Contact details at the end... <p /> ••• <p /> It's been a terribly tough decision to make but I feel like the more I delay the inevitable, the worse things will be on many levels. If you can help a friend out, please do. I would prefer my cats went to friends or family so I could 'stay in touch' with them, rather than handing them over to the custody of the RSPCA, which I might be forced to do if new homes can't be found, soon. If you can help, please email me on <a href="mailto:ryanjaprice@gmail.com">ryanjaprice@gmail.com</a>, send me a message on Facebook or send a tweet on twitter to @uselessdesires. If you have my number, please call or text. Thank you, <p /> Ryan <p /> contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/personal-appeal-please-read-new-loving-homes">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7045136197578523882?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-91919855380592600032011-02-28T14:56:00.001Z2011-02-28T14:56:07.585Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>Dance is one of the most powerful forms of magical ritual... It is an outer expression of the inner spirit. <br />Ted Andrews <p /> Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances. <br />Maya Angelou <p /> Life is not about getting through the storms, but about dancing in the rain. <br />Bunny Armstrong <p /> There is a need to find and sing our own song, to stretch our limbs and shake them in a dance so wild that nothing can roost there, that stirs the yearning for solitary wings. <br />Barbara Lazear Ascher <p /> Dancing is the body made poetic. <br />Ernst Bacon <p /> Nobody cares if you can’t dance well. Just get up and dance. <br />Dave Barry <p /> Dancing can reveal all the mystery that music conceals. <br />Chas Baudelaire <p /> There are short-cuts to happiness, and dancing is one of them. <br />Vicki Baum <p /> To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven; A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. <br />Ecclesiastes 3:1,2,4 <p /> Marriage is not a ritual or an end. It is a long, intricate, intimate dance together and nothing matters more than your own sense of balance and your choice of partner. <br />Amy Bloom <p /> My kids refuse to eat anything that hasn’t danced on TV. <br />Erma Bombeck <p /> The earth sets some music going in us and dance we must. <br />Ludwig Boone <p /> While I dance I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole. That is why I dance. <br />Hans Bos <p /> In dance, in composition, in sculpture, the experience is the same: we are more the conduit than the creator of what we express. <br />Julia Cameron <p /> Dance on the edge of mystery. <br />Alan Cohen <p /> Instead of seeing the rug being pulled from under us, we can learn to dance on the shifting carpet. <br />Thomas Crum <p /> The truest expression of a people is in its dance and music. <br />Agnes de Mile <p /> The journey between what you once were and who you are now becoming is where the dance of life really takes place. <br />Barbara DeAngelis <p /> Don’t say, Yes! Just take my hand and dance with me. <br />Oriah Mountain Dreamer <p /> Take me to the places on the earth that teach you how to dance, the places where you can risk letting the world break your heart, and I will take you to the places where the earth beneath my feet and the stars overhead make my heart whole again and again. <br />Oriah Mountain Dreamer <p /> When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way. <br />Wayne Dyer <p /> I said to my soul, be still, and wait...So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing. <br />T.S. Eliot <p /> The stillness shall be the dancing and the darkness the light. <br />T.S. Eliot <p /> Allow yourself to trust joy and embrace it. You will find you dance with everything. <br />Ralph Waldo Emerson <p /> Get up and dance, get up and smile, get up and drink to the days that are gone in the shortest while. <br />Simon Fowler <p /> You can't be afraid of stepping on toes if you want to go dancing. <br />Lewis Freedman <p /> We dance around in a ring and suppose, but the Secret sits in the middle and knows. <br />Robert Frost <p /> And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance. <br />Kahlil Gibran <p /> Dance is the hidden language of the soul. <br />Martha Graham <p /> Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion. <br />Martha Graham <p /> The body says what words cannot. <br />Martha Graham <p /> Life's not about waiting for the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain! <br />Vivian Greene <p /> Work like you don't need the money, love like your heart has never broken, and dance like no one is watching. <br />Aurora Greenway <p /> Everything is affected by and is part of everything else, changing constantly from one state to another. The rain becomes the river; the river surrenders to the sea and the cycle begins over again. Nothing is ever lost. The melody changes – the dance goes on. <br />Connie Harrison <p /> Play with life, laugh with life, dance lightly with life, and smile at the riddles of life, knowing that life's only true lessons are writ small in the margin. <br />Jonathan Lochwood Huie <p /> Most people live dejectedly in worldly joys or sorrows. They sit on the sidelines and do not join the dance. <br />Søren Kierkegaard <p /> You can’t lie when you dance. It’s so direct. You do what is in you. It is impossible to dance out of the side of your mouth. <br />Shirley MacLaine <p /> When it rains it pours. Maybe the art of life is to convert tough times to great experiences; we can choose to hate the rain or dance in it. <br />Joan Marques <p /> Dance has always been a way of accessing the other worlds, especially whirling or spinning. <br />Caitlin Matthews <p /> Joy is peace dancing and peace is joy at rest. <br />F. B. Meyer <p /> Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music. <br />Angela Monet <p /> Put a little fun into your life. Try dancing. <br />Kathryn Murray <p /> Dance is life. Stillness is love. Together, they are everything. <br />Debbie Nargi-Brown <p /> And we should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once. And we should call every truth false which was not accompanied by at least one laugh. <br />Friedrich Nietzsche <p /> Dancing in all its forms cannot be excluded from the curriculum of all noble education; dancing with the feet, with ideas, with words, and, need I add that one must also be able to dance with the pen? <br />Friedrich Nietzsche <p /> He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance. <br />Friedrich Nietzsche <p /> I do not know what the spirit of a philosopher could more wish to be than a good dancer. For the dance is his ideal, also his fine art, finally also the only kind of piety he knows, his ‘divine service’. <br />Friedrich Nietzsche <p /> One must still have chaos in him to dance with a shooting star. <br />Friedrich Nietzsche <p /> The soul never ages. My soul dances without my feet. I am the music. <br />Alev Oguz <p /> Work like you don’t need the money, love like you’ve never been hurt, and dance like no one is watching. <br />Satchel Paige <p /> He who cannot dance claims the floor is uneven. <br />Hindu saying <p /> To watch us dance is to hear our hearts speak. <br />Hopi saying <p /> We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. <br />Japanese proverb <p /> If you can walk you can dance. If you can talk you can sing. <br />Zimbabwe Proverb <p /> See stars in the changing season and dance among them, shining. <br />Mary Anne Radmacher <p /> Part of the joy of dancing is conversation. Trouble is, some men can’t talk and dance at the same time. <br />Ginger Rogers <p /> Love is the passionate dance between two hearts. It is to believe in the dream, and together make it real. <br />Sylvana Rossetti <p /> Rhythm is our universal mother tongue. It’s the language of the soul. <br />Gabrielle Roth <p /> Dance where you can break yourself up to pieces and totally abandon your worldly passions. <br />Rumi <p /> To dance is to live! <br />Charles M. Schulz <p /> When I feel the joy of receiving a gift my heart nudges me to join creation's ballet, the airy dance of giving and receiving, and getting and giving again. <br />Lewis Smedes <p /> Dance as though no one is watching. Love as though you've never been hurt. Sing as though no one can hear you. Live as though heaven is on earth. <br />John Philip Souza <p /> Next time you’re mad, try dancing out your anger. <br />Sweetpea Tyler <p /> Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass. It's about learning how to dance in the rain. <br />Author Unknown <p /> Let us read and let us dance – two amusements that will never do any harm to the world. <br />Voltaire <p /> Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God. <br />Kurt Vonnegut <p /> The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance. <br />Alan Watts <p /> Movement is a medicine for creating change in a person’s physical, emotional, and mental states. <br />Carol Welch <p /> Every day brings a chance for you to draw in a breath, kick off your shoes, and dance. <br />Oprah Winfrey <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/dance">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-9191985538059260003?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-14448121735682591022011-02-19T11:43:00.001Z2011-02-19T11:43:07.931Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OZtUjFJvYkA&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OZtUjFJvYkA&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> I heard, that your settled down. <br />That you, found a girl and your married now. <br />I heard that your dreams came true. <br />Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you. <p /> Old friend, why are you so shy? <br />Ain't like you to hold it back or hide from the light. <p /> I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited. But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it. <br />I'd hoped you'd see my face & that you'd be reminded, That for me, it isn't over. <p /> Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. <br />I wish nothing but the best, for you too. <br />Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said:- <br />"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead" <br />Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead. You'd know, how the time flies. <br />Only yesterday, was the time of our lives. <br />We were born and raised in a summer haze. <br />Bound by the surprise of our glory days. <p /> I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited, But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it. <br />I'd hoped you'd see my face & that you'd be reminded, That for me, it isn't over. <p /> Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. <br />I wish nothing but the best for you too. <br />Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you say:- <br />"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead". <p /> Nothing compares, no worries or cares. <br />Regrets and mistakes they're memories made. <br />Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste? <p /> Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. <br />I wish nothing but the best for you. <br />Don't forget me, I beg, I remember you said:- <br />"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead". <p /> Nevermind, I'll find someone like you. <br />I wish nothing but the best for you too. <br />Don't forget me, I beg, I remembered you say:- <br />"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead" <br />Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead... <p /> © Adele <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-adele-performs-someone-lik">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1444812173568259102?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-5062155090920241952011-02-17T03:12:00.001Z2011-02-17T03:12:23.979Z<div class='posterous_autopost'> <div style='padding: 5px 5px 10px 5px; margin-top: 5px; border: 1px solid #ddd; background-color: #fff;line-height: 16px;'> <div style="float: left; margin-right: 5px; overflow: visible;"><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/h1bZF95hmQM8jQByEcDWqJJTBzcjZWYqg3zKLc6Wjr7LPJ9nab0apftizhr5/sundaygirl.mp3' style='color: #bc7134;'><img src='http://posterous.com/images/filetypes/mp3.png' style='border: none;'/></a></div> <div style="font-size: 10px; color: #424037;line-height: 16px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;<br/>Download now or <a href='http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/sunday-girl-phillipa-alexander-has-a-sunday-b' style='color: #bc7134;'>listen on posterous</a></div> <b><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/h1bZF95hmQM8jQByEcDWqJJTBzcjZWYqg3zKLc6Wjr7LPJ9nab0apftizhr5/sundaygirl.mp3' style='color: #bc7134;'>sundaygirl.mp3</a></b> <span style="font-size: 10px; color: #424037;">(8324 KB)</span> <br style="clear: both;"/></div> <p>She was an unknown session artist until she left thousands transfixed <br />by singing Blondie’s Sunday Girl on television adverts for The Mail on <br />Sunday’s You magazine last week. <p /> Now Phillipa Alexander is celebrating the success of the song with a <br />Sunday Girl of her own. <p /> Phillipa recorded the track for the advert just days before giving <br />birth to her daughter Priya. And, appropriately, the little girl came <br />into the world on a Sunday. <p /> ‘The song is ­obviously nothing to do with mother­hood, but to have <br />given birth to my own Sunday girl and to have sung it while she was <br />still inside me feels like a special and very sweet coincidence,’ said <br />Phillipa. <p /> Her song is used on a series of adverts whose theme is ‘You time’ – <br />the precious moment of the day when readers retreat with their <br />magazine. <p /> The Mail on Sunday was inundated with requests to know who the singer <br />is – and is now making the complete track available as a free <br />download. <p /> The musical arrangement to Sunday Girl was masterminded by M&C Saatchi <br />agency composer Alex Ball. Although not a household name, Phillipa, <br />38, has impersonated ­singers from Nina Simone to Billie Holiday and <br />provided voiceover performances for clients including Levi’s, Lynx and <br />L’Oreal. <p /> ‘I am a huge fan of Blondie,’ said Phillipa. ‘Heart Of Glass is my <br />fav­ourite Blondie song.’ <p /> Phillipa moved from Shoreham-by-Sea, West Sussex, to America when she <br />was seven after her father Colin got an engineering job in San Diego. <p /> Her creative ambitions were encouraged by her mother, Wendy, an artist <br />and illustrator. <p /> Phillipa enjoyed success as a session singer before moving back to <br />Brighton with her family at 21. There she met her husband, music <br />producer Sanj Sen, 35, in 1999. <p /> He suggested a career doing voice­overs for advertisements, and seven <br />years ago she joined Calypso voice­over agency. <p /> As well as her singing and voice­over work, Phillipa runs a successful <br />songwriting business, Chicks With Hits, with friend Ellie Wyatt. Their <br />songs have been heard on hit U.S. shows such as Grey’s Anatomy and <br />Desperate Housewives, and they are currently trying to secure a record <br />deal for their latest artist, Larissa Eddie, and her band, Eddie. <p /> But Phillipa’s priority now lies with her gorgeous baby girl. <p /> ‘Holding her for the first time was the most incredible experience,’ <br />she said. ‘Priya is adorable, although running my own businesses at <br />the same time is tough. I am constantly juggling. I am hoping she will <br />teach me to relax more.’ <p /> Read more: <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1305022/Sunday-Girl-Sunday-baby--hit-song-MoS-ad.html#ixzz1CQi1w0pd">http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1305022/Sunday-Girl-Sunday-baby--hi...</a></p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/sunday-girl-phillipa-alexander-has-a-sunday-b">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-506215509092024195?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-8865563645729400502011-02-16T16:17:00.001Z2011-02-16T16:17:25.468Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>With a heart so purely fine, <br />And so sweet a love - divine, <br />I dared to dream - you’ll be mine, <br />Only - forever - valentine. <p /> So, I offer you the sweetest wine, <br />Nothing but the finest fruit of the vine, <br />Keenly rejecting all others as brine, <br />For you - forever- valentine. <p /> Scared, I dreamed of life sublime, And now at last - the dream is mine, <br />Catch my heart each moment in time, <br />In love - forever - my valentine. Cling to me my love - and entwine, <br />Feast with me, my sweet - and dine, <br />Always together - the grand design, <br />Our love - forever - eternal valentine. <p /> Copyright © Ryan Price, 2011 <br />All rights reserved. <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/poetry-forever-valentine-1">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-886556364572940050?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-42149833840880861822011-02-15T18:06:00.001Z2011-02-15T18:06:04.788Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ckXTG5AqAHPzN6AGFVJbKRvaIgENWph1NZiUTpj0DhQr0R9MydVSnpg3eiK4/photo.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/6kijG7oevCEZbKrtwhGyn9SRqoGPiaVc5eT7ECVPjUBeIyevZcI6r6o6OuwV/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="509"/></a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/i-wish-your-pyjamas-were-next-to-my-nightie">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4214983384088086182?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-54703469213439981712011-02-15T17:20:00.001Z2011-02-15T17:20:36.620Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/xNS2mHKFGPP5okGwlKIVwA3fkWhbUBaYd91Yc1UsLwNBClg4TW5bMQtKK0jc/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/39zDa8O7duRysPbyY6lflK5LcvuzavpSwIx4TxhlMMjrJptONGoFh0hMbd78/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="738"/></a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/never-give-up-on-something-you-cant-go-withou">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5470346921343998171?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-81451078698751468392011-02-15T16:08:00.001Z2011-02-15T16:08:59.649Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/olM4F-w16Ac&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/olM4F-w16Ac&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Got My Eye On a Boy <br />He's Eyeing Me Back <br />It's Looking Real Good <br />This Could Be It <br />And I Know That All of You Girls <br />Would Love to Steal Him Away <br />He Bought Me a Drink <br />I Thanked Him Real Sweet <br />It's Always So Nice When You First Meet <br />And I Know That All of You Women Would Love to Steal Him Away <br />So I'm Warning You <p /> Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <br />Building Up An Appetite <br />You Can Look But You Can't Buy <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <p /> Pretty As a Picture <br />Comin' On So Strong <br />He's Twisting My Ignition Key <br />Turn My Motor On <br />But Anyone Can See, All His Attention's On Me <br />Give Us Some Privacy <p /> Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />It's a Welcome Turn to Try <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <p /> Leave Us Alone Tonight <br />Then If It Don't Work Out Right <br />He's All Your's <br />Until Then <p /> Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <br />They Keep Crowdin' in On Me <br />He Smiles Rather Unsuspiciously <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <p /> Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <br />Building Up An Appetite <br />You Can Look But You Can't Buy <br />Better Keep Your Hands Off My Potential New Boyfriend <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/video-lyrics-dolly-parton-potential-new-boyfr">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8145107869875146839?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-36299067192193631272011-02-15T15:56:00.001Z2011-02-15T15:56:22.617Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/zT94IlFGOMSNcmKcMAwj4StQaz243gn6lJdqPjG1APVbYfjhEdnx0BH8hNr5/photo.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/IWmEuNMRqJ3L2bD695IT62w0ZU9angWcOne0zoUoYrTJvNeDKypayi0l1D1b/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="441"/></a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-reason">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3629906719219363127?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-18465231933306257322011-02-11T00:01:00.001Z2011-02-11T00:01:45.357Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/B5xpJuD55XT7nTlB6EUg491tB3kM1N0oBD47mfzIlW3nOK8CDmUQ5mK3v2En/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/2psBVWyRag6jdyvy1RxBgV5kowAcE5xnutWo7HhBPXnN08X4le3a87Gh1lCI/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> <p>Taken 10/02/11 • 23:15hrs • © Ryan Price <p /> contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintage-ish-self-portrait">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1846523193330625732?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-44987082103144932942011-02-05T15:07:00.001Z2011-02-05T15:07:09.365Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>No good shots today, but here's where I went walking:<p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/h4OEEC6scifvHA3pzNRHoRInpK0TlmTWJFaMZ1ONUPrqVBCYlH1PSKEQl0aU/image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/THrrKf8sAr121kzuCEIPQn7hYySpSESEntJbE7PTlCagFkAihtBq6dLhPmNL/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/DkkETR1erCv45l5d0l58vlSgw6w6iRrlvpkVCJ2EMfOtn3eAQKc0SGeMsIZf/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/wLLoLT1gQLw9w44992vMAZB0Hi5zGhnt6J3E7wbZ4jElOMCEdB41ZrmJK1Hw/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/SZewczm4kus0IXiRG0fvM13krii1zme25XaUhAvQYIvYlZAvRus5s5fNEQwT/1image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/t2lPizVpV9Sk0IYJZOWSj8rHm1uaLp7GPo6PMYrEJprYGP8PaZUe2ZoY8CF0/1image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/M3xbEhGrz3Fx8GeqLudu7RLnYYeYcDT6w43z7HEH2KHyzPsmjhauqipXp4tt/2image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/K8d835dSQLjH0lh6yrdJbNMhRcIS6Hc9R9TKR91gsul4ec6XzopxnzxR1pWN/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/qO6VcVgHjgsuWEZIA63jRcjicAZKfm2B1kNtj4UyGy3bzdkI4pBW1WhKLdwl/3image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ELMALVkVOEKBCfF8tJoZyfz3mwE5n7vsy32vcvW1MwnwiLMQ92LeBG7jRBVn/3image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Ie1k17ybXFzWAhl9tZDqCFnx7RwzeIXcgsmnCAkvGqHSfdvsiqNTgykd0bWl/4image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/jXE9jfTLm4Rl7upcENwD5QTxacSxeILNUFKYB0wsEckmaNNIYSMS4trnYjgr/4image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/cKaZBJn8kwejWFBBZQFDLVbOY8DMEWvflY4LxYqImQtH1xuue1aR5ftPQFyf/5image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/WMYNmlKD1pgf6U7BpsKDbnqa0mRQ8q6OfKQCuw1iA3cft0TEy3tlJcQPRnFc/5image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/BxkJ7XCLvqn5h7rlRxaEtKDE04FPudCpBwHh5RRzOwLaYH0yAc04zEyRxDfy/6image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/zqhc0uNucHj5VencgUvpkddIE9XdoMOolBN7ieb5DsnQXTqU6dlGCGdcKFsI/6image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/290DHU45hBaTPLCqbFkFPAI6Jlb7El5U6D7hw8OzkCe0D1jYhuiLpPaZp9fv/7image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/h9UqJZwLrP0VEZseSLFSZrp3pITOdm4cPlAWFE36lKyUffzEn8yWh3FHkM92/7image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/RsNJnEp1WxzNeLz4umRZL4HLSryfzHONT6VwnwChjXRNk9RUqHM5wBQtEsjs/8image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/q91Z7o6kTvFAh8KUDiODICAz9IfYKF76Pozumm4FidAoDVZni9IP50BEas0c/8image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> </p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/photos-upper-lower-carno-reservoir-powys">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4498708210314493294?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-32845997289099312592011-02-03T09:53:00.001Z2011-02-03T09:53:57.110Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/XVXSlb6xNAjynFGZ9LIW11dDICwOKPS3OjuwaGUussXYOOjDoYh2BepQaOw8/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/pbAW55DHK1lz7jkH9U86PAksiQRDv2YOtkAj54eHzjHxczipd2CYFnmYXtJt/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="372"/></a> <p>By <a href="http://www.ilovesthediff.com">www.ilovesthediff.com</a></p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/cardiff-underground-map">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3284599728909931259?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-84676984135697856112011-02-02T09:46:00.001Z2011-02-02T09:46:33.720Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-k7xUIYsZU&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-k7xUIYsZU&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> I, I long to be beside of you, <br />I was wrong to tell you what was true, <br />Yes I, know I'm a victim of my pride, <br />I belong to all that I've been through. <p /> I drove for miles in a city trance, <br />I came to ask for a second chance, <br />But I won't dance, no I won't dance. I came for miles on a broken wheel, <br />I came to see whether love can heal, <br />But I won't kneel, no I won't kneel <p /> 'Cause I can't bend, can't hold, <br />Can't lend, can't fold, <br />Can't lose, won't cry, <br />Can't choose 'cause I know why. I, I want to always be with you, <br />What's wrong to tell you what I knew, <br />'Cause I know, I know I'm a slave to lonely pride, <br />I belong to all that I've been through. I drove for miles in a city trance, <br />I came to ask for a second chance, <br />But I won't dance, no I won't dance. <p /> I came for miles on a broken wheel, <br />I came to see whether love can heal, <br />But I won't kneel, no I won't kneel. <p /> 'Cause I can't bend, can't hold, <br />Can't dance, can't fold, <br />I get close and get scared, <br />And this grows in my head. <p /> Won't you give me something, something to hold? <br />Won't you give me something, something to hold? <p /> Won't you give me something, something to hold? <br />Won't you give me something, something to hold? <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-groove-armada-i-wont-kneel">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8467698413569785611?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-45585252966340387552011-01-28T22:51:00.001Z2011-01-28T22:51:54.355Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/VuDqJNLpdxUPzN2hEpzsfyygZ2NzwiSRE9eMxiKr7YvoP9oSLkjPARf5Eyof/image.jpeg" width="453" height="604"/> <p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/7cWNj1uFOAbER2MyrFv0w6gpx1UT5p5LjHjlrlDh6TZmP7hA0I3ESda29HCd/0image.jpeg" width="453" height="604"/> </p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/vzZIkuII1xa5adt2cIZzPoucVYH2n3caRMCcSaAvSXY7q2VenouJCZs7khYl/1image.jpeg" width="453" height="604"/> </p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/D6vn604bYlRAwxXYYpEjY71DhkKtQ9xxexyy06MIp5TqxNWvDrCNyXCBQ7zQ/2image.jpeg" width="453" height="604"/> </p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/6iAnIv8SnjTwN5aPZjSdAgnUMZMdA4rTsoHF8oLGxGCaCOgMIwU69rgE1eAc/3image.jpeg" width="453" height="604"/> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ifxYFB8WTSHnpeq9vc98cy40Xo20BjnwsKbD0QkcjFUs86leqo6EXPweNOqg/4image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/opYZIYYdLTrO78JpOe5dtL6yaCma08pkAIxc5WzjgSZHD72N6bkqpbGDK8EQ/4image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/k8iMbfRvHwqzD9lqqmlrY3NGUrZgR1XGIGSSSSAJKSH8jWcxTFgWEJKFhXzl/5image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/qnJaxSBM9lNqY0vrWiLpNeBP6Ns8fyuy6RgsPyzCTgf4ZY38rzKtdNLX42O6/5image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a 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href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Rjuif6JNDGVlAkho0i4QRcQPJCUBUzq0IPeElq43pSwXVLSD2fOmPTVogzmv/29image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/qC95gamKps73fjpsbCM3Bl03FIuqqWpg5672Y6J7uhz2OmiuNpWA9C2vSXY6/29image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/wIuwnn00JTGMIKUjrPpAsEmUmu4Gp79p5hJ1Jnz4Ci5VFeEjTtL2eoqwGhs4/30image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/cqWt7MFPWe4Tr60Y28uvVCf25vDiStsqTYovVJ3TgneeBOX6tdbjZeHhBhIK/30image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="667"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/4uQT0yiXiC77m9xErkOVQTRYGgRz9M09O9iT4lcON3sXJEeiTpSxR9Gd2LWU/31image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/QIvAsLCcWrTyXBcuSo75Ok6DHgikWJGiWmyLlR7FqX3u54UUADlOTzcl1Y9Y/31image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="500"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/AatpMzXSH52lQAjj8mPDFHGxiAhC8iMcC7OsWquJRJUWAg8U1o9ECphMoaqj/32image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/LAfWmInQaJxaNDAmZ0AbmVyyndcQqY4aA3ExwqIaa8ND4UJK5pKTqOND5s58/32image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="500"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/d4x9UpSd8wxECslt1AhIvpDoPCrDA5bKKefoRVdqSm8wsd0xQ9RTsaif3Dqr/33image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/SvUEQWFcWnKyOKnceMOaPZlCjeIKLYLi3x49JHTJzxL0sTobwwFvUgz7ul2X/33image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="646"/></a> </p><p>The Completed Project</p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/nN6cKxpKJDNAUX0BhcToqokgAM8hXCOWcW8oGeRsEbJ5ON6PNFeHvY5RCkb0/34image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mxiPY0O0xJDAQDIJJpWgqpDkXyatcd0vLiOLXI47uHief3cjjpMj2VpvBABW/34image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="274"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/uj9w2BfjbPIxJlvdvcXraOzRbAblQTMFyrDJWT6yZXxxKGfn0ROz3nxAnwOt/35image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Hd5h2i0wqWQj7ulEuAahst7U72DttksAQrSSYCXAwJXwLHndtzqWpgfymuoq/35image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="667"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/WWVU22Da7xxIgfOldT3zYJVyroeDrLMgbhfmN4PUHnK96wjiKTo0WZLkTtMv/36image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/J1sL2jqzCvtoguaxVcymi5GRpfxruJPmHdnboX7uVpgkLFrFl6GXCe2eshja/36image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="667"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iW4peDZH3O4q2tuCZbdnnREFX6UwIti48GqkhCKDi17kzM16OOFTcuYlEF4H/37image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/kUaejHZjS31sVNR7QRVG3cJ1okVyGcOIX5GoryxfpnX3HVO2QBnEoitybHtK/37image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="667"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ec9xtQuBdinVnGSNuQbhrP0WkNGxx1xMWx8wWwaa2Rysa417IfI9LUntPW3x/38image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/bvT0eTFFBN5ZLLxs1c3raE0Mr6fsEuliC9cfadVmMOI2lRmsaVnsHEyelj5j/38image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="667"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/B20t415J6x1sPpoDf7ipmNxGX7DkzAPn6Y7SltNAzMY45CUOG7QTCHM7kM1t/39image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/yRd6QMvHMuwReoLHvr5SdkoqIEoT1602jA73Qmg6n7FLPdoc0kBvIDblUyF3/39image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/e1HhDD5L2nuJs8Gkp9bMEZSzD4Rn7ZUsyTBMU5k2Gvh1Ya2R272OjrzsAWjs/40image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/I46p0er0bypbIE3F8W3aoC1RRWqY6izeCLGC7ZXxVFuINXmPo5DX5SYMM2cL/40image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/xyrqi7HlbxuWbLVvtUqOAPfea4FEllNenEfyS0hFKF7slb7qS9Q76O89OBup/41image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/CINEzldoHGMcsGLD0YVABPOTFLYpcuvcsjt3CKc9VfCJrQE1C2eydN1xafn6/41image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/FcQgNPuA55elDVesPEuEyyr6H1wDdUwrkfNuP18Y6KAzfFex8U715oPxDTvj/42image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/IKA0aKPMlPxfLOygRpHfdAZHblGC5D4HMcfKeH60rJ3xeTYWZ9CbY5KEvzR2/42image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="375"/></a> </p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/l4rCbiWbp1fydiYru6XsG6yGD3D1fvAxruFrcotVQ7DzgaEU7fPOASb49fNH/43image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/7TMbBKxH4D6FPtYxHHkDiolHoKCm83RNZP5xfGajWesKnMYRJm2SBwPLzacW/43image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="670"/></a> </p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/in-photos-from-rags-to-restoration-mother-son">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4558525296634038755?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-17048477958912481452011-01-25T22:56:00.001Z2011-01-25T22:56:27.751Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/lgCIxVa4nZU&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/lgCIxVa4nZU&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> I lived for my art, I lived for love, <br />I never did harm to a living soul! <br />With a secret hand <br />I relieved as many misfortunes as I knew of. <br />Always with true faith <br />my prayer <br />rose to the holy shrines. <br />Always with true faith <br />I gave flowers to the altar. <br />In the hour of grief <br />why, why, o Lord, <br />why do you reward me thus? <br />I gave jewels for the Madonna’s mantle, <br />and I gave my song to the stars, to heaven, <br />which smiled with more beauty. <br />In the hour of grief <br />why, why, o Lord, <br />ah, why do you reward me thus? <p /> *** <p /> Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore, <br />non feci mai male ad anima viva! <br />Con man furtiva <br />quante miserie conobbi aiutai. <br />Sempre con fè sincera <br />la mia preghiera <br />ai santi tabernacoli salì. <br />Sempre con fè sincera <br />diedi fiori agl’altar. <br />Nell’ora del dolore <br />perchè, perchè, Signore, <br />perchè me ne rimuneri così? <br />Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto, <br />e diedi il canto agli astri, al ciel, <br />che ne ridean più belli. <br />Nell’ora del dolor <br />perchè, perchè, Signor, <br />ah, perchè me ne rimuneri così? <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/opera-maria-callas-vissi-darte-toscas-aria-fr">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1704847795891248145?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-27512545676675921972011-01-25T19:19:00.001Z2011-01-25T19:19:12.995Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-k7xUIYsZU&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a-k7xUIYsZU&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-groove-armada-i-wont-kneel">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2751254567667592197?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-38449174582249864992011-01-23T23:31:00.001Z2011-01-23T23:31:39.504Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/CYQPVBKnZudFuOoPtKsAickjbJM69j5uYFU0uKSpmoYrESZyoXchjKRHEa2D/image.png.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/YE1cbRaaX8KiuNuXKd5ym9mKMDHUny7vA1q86NJ5yjqG9msNM0GAXcGdEECM/image.png.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="369"/></a> <p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/XFR4BWjOPP30mA0Cejm8yzO3CRubxMg5RTNIG14ZYOCmTsitSn7sU8X3JfTy/photo_1.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/URDGAdZPwdBHhlbP7asfAYrSUJLrlazEVV51KrjGqpf8dQFje6MCsuLwn5DN/photo_1.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="500"/></a> </p><p>contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/unhappy-freddie-photos">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3844917458224986499?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-54482405840552252392011-01-22T18:09:00.001Z2011-01-22T18:09:33.961Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/io-nhN0XMUE&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/io-nhN0XMUE&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> contra omnia discrimina <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/in-video-les-miserables-10th-anniversary-conc">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5448240584055225239?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-91978844434230755672011-01-22T12:30:00.001Z2011-01-22T12:30:23.665Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLCWOxraLAg&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/YLCWOxraLAg&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p />Tu m'as promis<br />Et je te cru<p />Tu m'as promis le soleil en hiver et un arc-en-ciel<br />Tu m'as promis le sable doré; j'ai reçu une carte postale<br />Tu m'as promis le ciel, la terre, et une vie d'amour<br />Tu m'as promis ton cœur, ton sourire<br />Mais j'ai eu des grimaces<p />Tu m'as promis<br />Et je te cru<p />Tu m'as promis le cheval ailé que j'ai jamais eu<br />Tu m'as promis le fil d'Ariane, mais tu l'as coupé<br />Tu m'as promis les notes de Mozart, pas des plats cassés<br />Tu m'as promis d'être ta reine;<br />J'ai eu pour sceptre un balai<p />Tu m'as promis<br />Et je te cru<p />Tu es foutu-tu-tu...<br />Tu es foutu-tu-tu...<p />Je ne sais pas ce qui se passe<br />Mais je sais pourquoi on m'appelle<br />"Mademoiselle Pas de Chance"<br />Tu m'as promis, tu m'as promis<br />Tu m'as promis<p />Tu es foutu-tu-tu...<br />Tu es foutu-tu-tu...<p />•••<p />You promised me, <br />And I believed you.<p />You promised me the sun in the winter, and a rainbow in the sky.<br />You promised me the golden sands; I received a postcard.<br />You promised me the sky, the earth, and a life of love.<br />You promised me your heart and your smile<br />But I only got frowns.<p />You promised me <br />And I believed you<br />You promised me the winged horse that I never had.<br />You promised me the thread of Ariadne, but you cut that.<br />You promised me the notes of Mozart, not broken dishes.<br />You promised me that I would be your queen;<br />I had as a scepter a broom.<p />You promised me <br />And I believed you.<p />You are screwed-do-do-do-do-do...<br />You are screwed-do-do-do-do-do...<p />I don't know what is happening,<br />But I know why people call me:<br />Miss Luckless<br />You promised me, you promised me<br />You promised me<p />You are screwed-do-do-do-do-do...<br />You are screwed-do-do-do-do-do...<a href="#"></a></div><p /><div><p />Ryan&nbsp;✗✗<div>contra omnia discrimina</div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-french-english-in-grid-tu">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-9197884443423075567?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-57134570809067688372011-01-21T19:34:00.001Z2011-01-21T19:34:48.373Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/H7IDo4XbWPA&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/H7IDo4XbWPA&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> contra omnia discrimina <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/time-to-change-ruby-wax-gives-advice-on-what">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-5713457080906768837?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-16663773932863499722011-01-21T19:31:00.001Z2011-01-21T19:31:01.341Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/426RPll-9qI&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/426RPll-9qI&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> contra omnia discrimina <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/ruby-wax-talks-about-what-it-is-like-to-live">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1666377393286349972?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-36319842278610257492011-01-21T15:18:00.001Z2011-01-21T15:18:47.562Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/MEMLGejxbWiR8IrsghFzky8L8oRsWIxEjgb6ZhwzV0volE7VS45wZOPy8OEZ/image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/SGYOzzxMGy36GykeHDI3o3oagsAJ1dyHgQBJyN50EoX0oekF3PQQGVb5LlZQ/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="500"/></a> <p>While the shops are filling their shelves with fluffy pink hearts and cherubs in anticipation of Valentine’s Day, more and more welsh traditionalists are excited about St Dwynwen’s day. <p /> The patron saint of lovers, Dwynwen whose name means “she who leads a blessed life”, is feted on January 25th. Although she is no longer officially recognised by the Vatican, she still enjoys great popularity in her home county of Anglesey, and St Dwynwen’s day continues to grow in popularity across Wales. <p /> Dwynwen’s Bad Romance</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/FDHFdknV3yDBHeS9MyrqRshTbyULLngzNUhROxT68QqzE1HBHmIzXfaMyJEj/0image.jpeg" width="300" height="199"/> </p><p>(Llanddwyn Island) <p /> The most beautiful of King Brychan Brycheiniog’s daughters, Dwynwen is said to have lived in Anglesey in the 5th century. There are several stories told as to how she became the patron saint of lovers – some less family-friendly than others – but all the stories seem to agree that after a pretty disastrous relationship with a man called Maelon Dafodrill, Dwynwen fled to the forest, where she was visited by an angel who granted her wishes that she should never marry, and that God should look kindly on the dreams of all true lovers. <p /> Dwynwen spent the rest of her life on Anglesey, founding a convent on Llanddwyn Island. It became so popular as a place of pilgrimage that a new church was built on the site in Tudor times, the remains of which can still be seen on the island today. <p /> The Psychic Fish? <p /> In a tradition which perhaps blends Christian and pagan traditions, it was once said that a visit to the Llandwynn Island church well could predict the future of a love affair. Tradition said that if the movements of the fish in the church’s well caused the water to move so much that it appears to boil, a happy-ever-after was guaranteed. Women who suspected their husbands of infidelity would sprinkle breadcrumbs on the surface of the water and cover them with a handkerchief – if the fish caused the handkerchief to move, the husband had been proved faithful.</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/PNBtxk2LTqNBP1vDXvxuiWG1TWyJbA5LyDdWIJlpr95bRw0LwpTvVW0xTdPW/1image.jpeg" width="242" height="325"/> </p><p>(Dydd Santes Dwynwen Hapus) <p /> Created for you here is a gorgeous St Dwynwen’s day card that you can download, print and send to your true love/crush... <p /> Download a printable PDF St. Dwynwen’s day card: <br /><a href="http://bit.ly/gL7vlD">http://bit.ly/gL7vlD</a> <p /> So, how best to celebrate Dydd Santes Dywnwen? Forget about the overpriced and faintly sinister-looking Valentine themed teddy bears and cliched red roses, and treat your loved one to a weekend up in St Dwynwen’s home of Anglesey? Take a bracing walk along the Blue Flag beach and cwtch up on the sand dunes, or wander through the National Nature Reserve of Newborough Warren. (Angels not guaranteed. Sick-bucket not included). (Thanks to <a href="http://www.visitwales.co.uk">www.visitwales.co.uk</a>)</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/st-dwynwens-day-reviving-the-old-welsh-versio">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3631984227861025749?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-64856436434773244932011-01-18T22:59:00.001Z2011-01-18T22:59:24.489Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>You can shed tears that she is gone, <br />or you can smile because she has lived. <p /> You can close your eyes and pray that she’ll come back, <br />or you can open your eyes and see all she’s left. <p /> Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her, <br />or you can be full of the love you shared. <p /> You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, <br />or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. <p /> You can remember her and only that she’s gone, <br />or you can cherish her memory and let it live on. <p /> You can cry and close your mind, <br />be empty and turn your back, <br />or you can do what she’d want: <br />smile, open your eyes, love and go on. <p /> David Harkins, © 1981 <br />Silloth, Cumbria, UK <p /> ••• <p /> Included by the Queen on the order of service for the Queen Mother's funeral on Tuesday 9th April 2002, the poem 'She Is Gone' was credited to 'Anon'. Her Majesty was said to have encountered the work at the funeral of the late" Dowager Viscountess De L'Isle, whose family had found the poem in a small anthology published in 1999. <p /> After the Queen Mother's funeral much effort went into attempts to identify the author, with attributions going to, among others Immanuel Kant and Joyce Grenfell, before the author was discovered to be former baker David Harkins from Cumbria. David Harkins had written the piece in the early eighties, though not as a funeral oration, but in homage to an unrequited love. <p /> David Harkins wrote to The Daily Mail on Tuesday January 14th 2003 as follows:- 'I was 23 when I first met Anne LLoyd, my inspiration for the poem I called Remember Me. <br />She was 16 and didn't know me, but had seen her about and knocked on her door one evening in November 1981. Anne answered, and I introduced myself as a painter (painting was a hobby of mine back then) and asked her to pose. <br />She agreed, and I returned on the Thursday evening, when I made feeble attempts to sketch Anne. This proved difficult as her mother was present throughout. <br />Anne posed for me about eight times, and we met regularly for a couple of years and talked a great deal, though we never even kissed, which is probably why I poured all my feelings about her into my poetry. <br />I completed Remember Me in about March 1982, but until last year none of my poems received any recognition. Pam, a one act play from 1987, was my last piece of work inspired by Anne. <br />Shortly afterwards I met Jayne, my wife, and I have not seen Anne since. My writing has dried up and I'm now a painter selling my works on the internet.' <br />David Harkins, Silloth, Cumbria. <p /> Further Foot Note: <p /> News & Star 12/09/2002 I wrote the Queen Mum's funeral poem By Chris Musson THE mystery author of a poem which was read out at the Queen Mother's funeral can now be revealed as a Cumbrian man who wrote it more than 20 years earlier when he was a young bakery worker. The poem was recited at the royal funeral earlier this year and sparked a glut of media interest because of its simple, upbeat nature - and mystery author. The Queen had found the poem while leafing through old memorial service books and she chose it to be read at her mother's funeral at Westminster Abbey in April, where it struck a chord with millions of mourners. Today the News & Star can reveal that Silloth man David Harkins wrote the poem in 1981 while working at Robertson's bakery in Durranhill, Carlisle. Mr Harkins, 43, has since received a letter of thanks from the Prince of Wales. The discovery finally ends a nationwide media hunt for the poem's author. Mr Harkins, who now works as an artist selling paintings over the Internet, said he "couldn't believe his eyes" when he saw his poetry published in newspapers after the funeral. Shocked He had sent the original manuscript of the poem to Prince Charles, and St James's Palace replied thanking Mr Harkins for explaining its origin. He said: "I wrote it in 1981. It was about a girl and I called it Remember Me. Since then, it's been changed to suit different people and also altered slightly for funerals. "I was shocked. I only found out about it at the time of the Queen Mother's funeral and I couldn't believe it. My wife Jayne and I were reading the newspapers and there it was. "She said to me something like 'that's your poem!'. There were changes but they were just words - a word here and a word there. "So I sent the original copy to Prince Charles in May and got a lovely letter of reply." The reply from Prince Charles' then private secretary, Stephen Lamport, thanks Mr Harkins for providing the history of the "passage which captured the hearts of so many people when it was published as part of Queen Elizabeth's funeral service". At the time the poem was written, he was working at Robertson's bakery, while living in Scalegate Road, Upperby. Mr Harkins said: "I laugh about it because death is not what it's about. It wasn't written for a funeral. I wrote it about a girl I lusted after but she couldn't stand the sight of me. "It was nothing to do with anyone dying but at the same time, I am humbled by the fact that anyone should use it at a funeral, especially for the Queen Mother. "It was straight from the heart and when I think about it, I'm both proud and not proud. I have sent it to people and they always try to put it into poetry but it isn't. It was just poetic prose." It is thought Remember Me - one of many pieces Mr Harkins has sent to publishers and newspapers over the years - found its way onto the Internet and into memorial booklets like the one spotted by the Queen. After the funeral, the poem was subjected to the scrutiny of the national media, with some critics ridiculing its apparent lack of literary merit. The reply from the Prince of Wales's office continued: "I have no doubt that it will be reproduced on many occasions over the years to come. The Prince of Wales has asked me to send you his very best wishes." Chris Musson Reporter, The Cumberland News / News & Star <p /> An interesting link if you need more information on 'She is Gone' and the author <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A2174735">http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/ww2/A2174735</a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/she-is-gone-a-poem">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6485643643477324493?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-45893105026602961272011-01-18T17:21:00.001Z2011-01-18T17:21:45.008Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/F5fuaLlOAis&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/F5fuaLlOAis&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/documentary-excerpt-on-the-death-of-kenneth-w">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4589310502660296127?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-46952544582854175712011-01-18T15:21:00.001Z2011-01-18T15:21:43.646Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><div><span style="">...&nbsp;</span><span style="">played out against the backdrop of the 'Carry On' films during the 1960s and 1970s.</span></div><p /><div><span style="">Part 1</span><br /></div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JOPdlSF_xqc&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JOPdlSF_xqc&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p />Part 2<div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HdtOZPovp3A&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HdtOZPovp3A&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><p />Part 3<div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jQgXi2Mb3f4&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jQgXi2Mb3f4&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p />Part 4</div><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ANh8eCQm_X8&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ANh8eCQm_X8&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><div><br />Part 5<div><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMjUpEt03ao&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMjUpEt03ao&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><p />Part 6</div><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-VGwBwPxAIw&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-VGwBwPxAIw&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><p />Part 7</div><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UbFFRw3gz84&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UbFFRw3gz84&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p />Part 8<div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/o341_MJH6MQ&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/o341_MJH6MQ&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><p />Part 9<div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4lB5iTvxdSE&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4lB5iTvxdSE&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></div><p />Part 10</div><div><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/a5ucf7rLfVw&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/a5ucf7rLfVw&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /></div></div><p /><div><p />Ryan&nbsp;✗✗<div>contra omnia discrimina</div></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/cor-blimey-dramatisation-of-the-love-affair-b">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4695254458285417571?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-16355621983173917472011-01-18T12:28:00.001Z2011-01-18T12:28:15.526Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>Part 1 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VkF_KqcQD6o&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VkF_KqcQD6o&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 2 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/bri4bluQXRc&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/bri4bluQXRc&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 3 <br />UNAVAILABLE, sorry <p /> Part 4 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0T8lvIA3s5Y&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0T8lvIA3s5Y&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 5 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DeINoqaXVy4&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DeINoqaXVy4&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 6 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3lnfGbzzz2A&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3lnfGbzzz2A&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 7 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_8hPqgFtFDo&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_8hPqgFtFDo&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Part 8 <br /><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/X70nDTGuup4&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/X70nDTGuup4&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="opaque" height="417" width="500"></embed></object> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/kenneth-williams-fantabulosa">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1635562198317391747?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-1351649744239660422011-01-17T23:56:00.001Z2011-01-17T23:56:58.921Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>If I could <br />If Only for a moment, <br />Take your pain and make it mine, <br />I would. <p /> If I could <br />Carry your heavy load, <br />Ease the sorrow you have, <br />I would. <p /> If I could <br />Give you a reason for this, <br />Tell you why this is happening, <br />I would. <p /> I would do anything to remove your hurt, <br />But sometimes the rocky road of life, <br />Twists and turns, goes uphill and down, <br />And the whole world seems cold and heartless. <p /> If I could <br />Shelter you from all of this, <br />Wrap you up and comfort you, <br />I would. <p /> If nothing else, <br />Remember this; <br />I’m here, <br />If you want to talk, <br />If you need to cry, <br />If you can find comfort from sharing silence with me, <br />I’m here, <br />I care. <p /> © 1998 - 2010 Ryan Price <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/i-care-a-poem-by-ryan-price-for-ca">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-135164974423966042?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-47943967039077916482011-01-15T12:06:00.001Z2011-01-15T12:06:16.143Z<div class='posterous_autopost'>A mouse of my acquaintance in seven days was fed <p /> Twice twenty thousand swordfish, and now that mouse is dead. <p /> The mercury in swordfish is an enemy to dread. <p /> He ate twice twenty thousand, and that mouse is dead. <p /> His sister gnawed through pizzas (I’m told one million four). <p /> There’s talk of botulism, and that sister is no more. <p /> Their brother downed ten thousand turkeys lined with pesticide. <p /> It took a week to kill him, but that poor mouse died. <p /> So stay away from hormones, and from salmonella too, <p /> Be impolite to cyclamates, and DDT eschew, <p /> For additives and chemicals can kill you just like that, <p /> Though (confidentially) those mice were done in by the cat. <p /> Courtesy of: <br /><a href="http://weirdsid.tumblr.com/post/2758745039/a-poem-about-mice-by-w-r-espy">http://weirdsid.tumblr.com/post/2758745039/a-poem-about-mice-by-w-r-espy</a> <p /> contra omnia discrimina <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/a-poem-about-mice-by-w-r-espy">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4794396703907791648?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-30068938734678170032011-01-12T20:07:00.001Z2011-01-12T20:07:30.886Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/yteJlNa8ueq8q8DPUOQPTcHz9n2CPBrVQvJs5vzE1ISJCBbxrZK3MnYuhMSN/image.png" width="397" height="600"/> <p>THE <br />Velveteen Rabbit <br />OR <br />HOW TOYS BECOME REAL <br />by Margery Williams <br />Illustrations by William Nicholson <p /> To Francesco Bianco <br />from <br />The Velveteen Rabbit <p /> HERE was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming. <p /> There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/tjrbpxtBVxjo4AVVk4qhUrbsN7V5HN64QAZDGHBUofE14I59lTENy85TR0j8/image.jpeg" width="285" height="357"/> </p><p>For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn't know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse. <p /> The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it. <p /> "What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" <p /> "Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real." <p /> "Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit. <p /> "Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt." <p /> "Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?" <p /> "It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." <p /> "I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.</p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/c8Qa50dI9ddT07BNfa3Sx3fGKVuiyJXDXchakWnwwCeyCtWKyVpFxqeQI7be/0image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/NHil85VXD1A0V4faRsUBuPDAVBUC3uO3oEdwXo8ZpJBXy5iDQ4UggLmLBeiY/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="331"/></a> </p><p>"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always." <p /> The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him. <p /> There was a person called Nana who ruled the nursery. Sometimes she took no notice of the playthings lying about, and sometimes, for no reason whatever, she went swooping about like a great wind and hustled them away in cupboards. She called this "tidying up," and the playthings all hated it, especially the tin ones. The Rabbit didn't mind it so much, for wherever he was thrown he came down soft. <p /> One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn't find the china dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and it was too much trouble to hunt for china dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard door stood open, she made a swoop. <p /> "Here," she said, "take your old Bunny! He'll do to sleep with you!" And she dragged the Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the Boy's arms. <p /> That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes he rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed, too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him under the bedclothes that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in. And they had splendid games together, in whispers, when Nana had gone away to her supper and left the night-light burning on the mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long. <p /> And so time went on, and the little Rabbit was very happy–so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail becoming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him. <p /> Spring came, and they had long days in the garden, for wherever the Boy went the Rabbit went too. He had rides in the wheelbarrow, and picnics on the grass, and lovely fairy huts built for him under the raspberry canes behind the flower border. And once, when the Boy was called away suddenly to go out to tea, the Rabbit was left out on the lawn until long after dusk, and Nana had to come and look for him with the candle because the Boy couldn't go to sleep unless he was there. He was wet through with the dew and quite earthy from diving into the burrows the Boy had made for him in the flower bed, and Nana grumbled as she rubbed him off with a corner of her apron.</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/dACLg25eMpZibEiXVKmyDjU8gCuOT7ZjzbeoioBwjtt19LsTssKhiduWTKRO/1image.jpeg" width="285" height="349"/> </p><p>"You must have your old Bunny!" she said. "Fancy all that fuss for a toy!" <p /> The Boy sat up in bed and stretched out his hands. <p /> "Give me my Bunny!" he said. "You mustn't say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!" <p /> When the little Rabbit heard that he was happy, for he knew that what the Skin Horse had said was true at last. The nursery magic had happened to him, and he was a toy no longer. He was Real. The Boy himself had said it. <p /> That night he was almost too happy to sleep, and so much love stirred in his little sawdust heart that it almost burst. And into his boot-button eyes, that had long ago lost their polish, there came a look of wisdom and beauty, so that even Nana noticed it next morning when she picked him up, and said, "I declare if that old Bunny hasn't got quite a knowing expression!" <p /> That was a wonderful Summer! <p /> Near the house where they lived there was a wood, and in the long June evenings the Boy liked to go there after tea to play. He took the Velveteen Rabbit with him, and before he wandered off to pick flowers, or play at brigands among the trees, he always made the Rabbit a little nest somewhere among the bracken, where he would be quite cosy, for he was a kind-hearted little boy and he liked Bunny to be comfortable. One evening, while the Rabbit was lying there alone, watching the ants that ran to and fro between his velvet paws in the grass, he saw two strange beings creep out of the tall bracken near him. <p /> They were rabbits like himself, but quite furry and brand-new. They must have been very well made, for their seams didn't show at all, and they changed shape in a queer way when they moved; one minute they were long and thin and the next minute fat and bunchy, instead of always staying the same like he did. Their feet padded softly on the ground, and they crept quite close to him, twitching their noses, while the Rabbit stared hard to see which side the clockwork stuck out, for he knew that people who jump generally have something to wind them up. But he couldn't see it. They were evidently a new kind of rabbit altogether.</p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/v8VUTJtZ16WrvrYGnYB1YnDM66yjJr5qpToq5IvWhgPKdekjZp1KcGEpr1Gf/2image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/j4RbGaadNAR2KlVeaLvQ3oGPT5r6IAFtz8KeUPuIQ2Qq9SV8xvpZ0cpoWegN/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="342"/></a> </p><p>They stared at him, and the little Rabbit stared back. And all the time their noses twitched. <p /> "Why don't you get up and play with us?" one of them asked. <p /> "I don't feel like it," said the Rabbit, for he didn't want to explain that he had no clockwork. <p /> "Ho!" said the furry rabbit. "It's as easy as anything," And he gave a big hop sideways and stood on his hind legs. <p /> "I don't believe you can!" he said. <p /> "I can!" said the little Rabbit. "I can jump higher than anything!" He meant when the Boy threw him, but of course he didn't want to say so. <p /> "Can you hop on your hind legs?" asked the furry rabbit. <p /> That was a dreadful question, for the Velveteen Rabbit had no hind legs at all! The back of him was made all in one piece, like a pincushion. He sat still in the bracken, and hoped that the other rabbits wouldn't notice. <p /> "I don't want to!" he said again. <p /> But the wild rabbits have very sharp eyes. And this one stretched out his neck and looked. <p /> "He hasn't got any hind legs!" he called out. "Fancy a rabbit without any hind legs!" And he began to laugh. <p /> "I have!" cried the little Rabbit. "I have got hind legs! I am sitting on them!" <p /> "Then stretch them out and show me, like this!" said the wild rabbit. And he began to whirl round and dance, till the little Rabbit got quite dizzy. <p /> "I don't like dancing," he said. "I'd rather sit still!" <p /> But all the while he was longing to dance, for a funny new tickly feeling ran through him, and he felt he would give anything in the world to be able to jump about like these rabbits did. <p /> The strange rabbit stopped dancing, and came quite close. He came so close this time that his long whiskers brushed the Velveteen Rabbit's ear, and then he wrinkled his nose suddenly and flattened his ears and jumped backwards. <p /> "He doesn't smell right!" he exclaimed. "He isn't a rabbit at all! He isn't real!" <p /> "I am Real!" said the little Rabbit. "I am Real! The Boy said so!" And he nearly began to cry. <p /> Just then there was a sound of footsteps, and the Boy ran past near them, and with a stamp of feet and a flash of white tails the two strange rabbits disappeared. <p /> "Come back and play with me!" called the little Rabbit. "Oh, do come back! I know I am Real!" <p /> But there was no answer, only the little ants ran to and fro, and the bracken swayed gently where the two strangers had passed. The Velveteen Rabbit was all alone. <p /> "Oh, dear!" he thought. "Why did they run away like that? Why couldn't they stop and talk to me?" <p /> For a long time he lay very still, watching the bracken, and hoping that they would come back. But they never returned, and presently the sun sank lower and the little white moths fluttered out, and the Boy came and carried him home. <p /> Weeks passed, and the little Rabbit grew very old and shabby, but the Boy loved him just as much. He loved him so hard that he loved all his whiskers off, and the pink lining to his ears turned grey, and his brown spots faded. He even began to lose his shape, and he scarcely looked like a rabbit any more, except to the Boy. To him he was always beautiful, and that was all that the little Rabbit cared about. He didn't mind how he looked to other people, because the nursery magic had made him Real, and when you are Real shabbiness doesn't matter. <p /> And then, one day, the Boy was ill. <p /> His face grew very flushed, and he talked in his sleep, and his little body was so hot that it burned the Rabbit when he held him close. Strange people came and went in the nursery, and a light burned all night and through it all the little Velveteen Rabbit lay there, hidden from sight under the bedclothes, and he never stirred, for he was afraid that if they found him some one might take him away, and he knew that the Boy needed him. <p /> It was a long weary time, for the Boy was too ill to play, and the little Rabbit found it rather dull with nothing to do all day long. But he snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to. All sorts of delightful things he planned, and while the Boy lay half asleep he crept up close to the pillow and whispered them in his ear. And presently the fever turned, and the Boy got better. He was able to sit up in bed and look at picture-books, while the little Rabbit cuddled close at his side. And one day, they let him get up and dress. <p /> It was a bright, sunny morning, and the windows stood wide open. They had carried the Boy out on to the balcony, wrapped in a shawl, and the little Rabbit lay tangled up among the bedclothes, thinking. <p /> The Boy was going to the seaside to-morrow. Everything was arranged, and now it only remained to carry out the doctor's orders. They talked about it all, while the little Rabbit lay under the bedclothes, with just his head peeping out, and listened. The room was to be disinfected, and all the books and toys that the Boy had played with in bed must be burnt. <p /> "Hurrah!" thought the little Rabbit. "To-morrow we shall go to the seaside!" For the boy had often talked of the seaside, and he wanted very much to see the big waves coming in, and the tiny crabs, and the sand castles. <p /> Just then Nana caught sight of him. <p /> "How about his old Bunny?" she asked. <p /> "That?" said the doctor. "Why, it's a mass of scarlet fever germs!–Burn it at once. What? Nonsense! Get him a new one. He mustn't have that any more!"</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/HrTRSzCNVZpaZ8fIZSpQXn4wrpSLsumWxMaZkmzOpwCSRaYA9rex5xb0O8hu/3image.jpeg" width="274" height="344"/> </p><p>And so the little Rabbit was put into a sack with the old picture-books and a lot of rubbish, and carried out to the end of the garden behind the fowl-house. That was a fine place to make a bonfire, only the gardener was too busy just then to attend to it. He had the potatoes to dig and the green peas to gather, but next morning he promised to come quite early and burn the whole lot. <p /> That night the Boy slept in a different bedroom, and he had a new bunny to sleep with him. It was a splendid bunny, all white plush with real glass eyes, but the Boy was too excited to care very much about it. For to-morrow he was going to the seaside, and that in itself was such a wonderful thing that he could think of nothing else. <p /> And while the Boy was asleep, dreaming of the seaside, the little Rabbit lay among the old picture-books in the corner behind the fowl-house, and he felt very lonely. The sack had been left untied, and so by wriggling a bit he was able to get his head through the opening and look out. He was shivering a little, for he had always been used to sleeping in a proper bed, and by this time his coat had worn so thin and threadbare from hugging that it was no longer any protection to him. Near by he could see the thicket of raspberry canes, growing tall and close like a tropical jungle, in whose shadow he had played with the Boy on bygone mornings. He thought of those long sunlit hours in the garden–how happy they were–and a great sadness came over him. He seemed to see them all pass before him, each more beautiful than the other, the fairy huts in the flower-bed, the quiet evenings in the wood when he lay in the bracken and the little ants ran over his paws; the wonderful day when he first knew that he was Real. He thought of the Skin Horse, so wise and gentle, and all that he had told him. Of what use was it to be loved and lose one's beauty and become Real if it all ended like this? And a tear, a real tear, trickled down his little shabby velvet nose and fell to the ground. <p /> And then a strange thing happened. For where the tear had fallen a flower grew out of the ground, a mysterious flower, not at all like any that grew in the garden. It had slender green leaves the colour of emeralds, and in the centre of the leaves a blossom like a golden cup. It was so beautiful that the little Rabbit forgot to cry, and just lay there watching it. And presently the blossom opened, and out of it there stepped a fairy. <p /> She was quite the loveliest fairy in the whole world. Her dress was of pearl and dew-drops, and there were flowers round her neck and in her hair, and her face was like the most perfect flower of all. And she came close to the little Rabbit and gathered him up in her arms and kissed him on his velveteen nose that was all damp from crying. <p /> "Little Rabbit," she said, "don't you know who I am?" <p /> The Rabbit looked up at her, and it seemed to him that he had seen her face before, but he couldn't think where. <p /> "I am the nursery magic Fairy," she said. "I take care of all the playthings that the children have loved. When they are old and worn out and the children don't need them any more, then I come and take them away with me and turn them into Real." <p /> "Wasn't I Real before?" asked the little Rabbit. <p /> "You were Real to the Boy," the Fairy said, "because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to every one."</p><p><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/AbuzHlVv3lYuAxwLFAIRRmUPHyvBFjauA96E1KdEkBxIG6jDZGF82qxoMQYt/4image.jpeg" width="278" height="345"/> </p><p>And she held the little Rabbit close in her arms and flew with him into the wood. <p /> It was light now, for the moon had risen. All the forest was beautiful, and the fronds of the bracken shone like frosted silver. In the open glade between the tree-trunks the wild rabbits danced with their shadows on the velvet grass, but when they saw the Fairy they all stopped dancing and stood round in a ring to stare at her. <p /> "I've brought you a new playfellow," the Fairy said. "You must be very kind to him and teach him all he needs to know in Rabbit-land, for he is going to live with you for ever and ever!" <p /> And she kissed the little Rabbit again and put him down on the grass. <p /> "Run and play, little Rabbit!" she said. <p /> But the little Rabbit sat quite still for a moment and never moved. For when he saw all the wild rabbits dancing around him he suddenly remembered about his hind legs, and he didn't want them to see that he was made all in one piece. He did not know that when the Fairy kissed him that last time she had changed him altogether. And he might have sat there a long time, too shy to move, if just then something hadn't tickled his nose, and before he thought what he was doing he lifted his hind toe to scratch it. <p /> And he found that he actually had hind legs! Instead of dingy velveteen he had brown fur, soft and shiny, his ears twitched by themselves, and his whiskers were so long that they brushed the grass. He gave one leap and the joy of using those hind legs was so great that he went springing about the turf on them, jumping sideways and whirling round as the others did, and he grew so excited that when at last he did stop to look for the Fairy she had gone. <p /> He was a Real Rabbit at last, at home with the other rabbits.</p><p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/z5Bxm9ppFezWEdm3da4Wq6AbyQvl7s29ccs42ilgwfFViq52Pdz79QsDpTyE/5image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/ZbjB0TyOudezdRxrHqZkeqwfWHd5OHY2h5CHJ7lnxzSFwdAhVO1J5hT42B80/5image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="341"/></a> </p><p>Autumn passed and Winter, and in the Spring, when the days grew warm and sunny, the Boy went out to play in the wood behind the house. And while he was playing, two rabbits crept out from the bracken and peeped at him. One of them was brown all over, but the other had strange markings under his fur, as though long ago he had been spotted, and the spots still showed through. And about his little soft nose and his round black eyes there was something familiar, so that the Boy thought to himself: <p /> "Why, he looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I had scarlet fever!" <p /> But he never knew that it really was his own Bunny, come back to look at the child who had first helped him to be Real. <p /> * * *</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-velveteen-rabbit-or-how-toys-become-real">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3006893873467817003?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-81875934844033940612011-01-12T19:49:00.001Z2011-01-12T19:49:48.047Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/qjPRm8vAHio6Q4RzR1O6KFqcULBN90Hi7kcffzUEuPLpAILPtLRl4q4GO5kL/image.png" width="397" height="600"/> <div>THE<br />Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit<br />OR<br />HOW&nbsp;TOYS&nbsp;BECOME&nbsp;REAL<br />by&nbsp;Margery&nbsp;Williams<br />Illustrations&nbsp;by&nbsp;William&nbsp;Nicholson<p />To&nbsp;Francesco&nbsp;Bianco<br />from<br />The&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit<p />THERE&nbsp;was&nbsp;once&nbsp;a&nbsp;velveteen&nbsp;rabbit,&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;beginning&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;really&nbsp;splendid.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;fat&nbsp;and&nbsp;bunchy,&nbsp;as&nbsp;a&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;should&nbsp;be;&nbsp;his&nbsp;coat&nbsp;was&nbsp;spotted&nbsp;brown&nbsp;and&nbsp;white,&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;real&nbsp;thread&nbsp;whiskers,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;ears&nbsp;were&nbsp;lined&nbsp;with&nbsp;pink&nbsp;sateen.&nbsp;On&nbsp;Christmas&nbsp;morning,&nbsp;when&nbsp;he&nbsp;sat&nbsp;wedged&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;top&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy's&nbsp;stocking,&nbsp;with&nbsp;a&nbsp;sprig&nbsp;of&nbsp;holly&nbsp;between&nbsp;his&nbsp;paws,&nbsp;the&nbsp;effect&nbsp;was&nbsp;charming.<p />There&nbsp;were&nbsp;other&nbsp;things&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;stocking,&nbsp;nuts&nbsp;and&nbsp;oranges&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;toy&nbsp;engine,&nbsp;and&nbsp;chocolate&nbsp;almonds&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;clockwork&nbsp;mouse,&nbsp;but&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;quite&nbsp;the&nbsp;best&nbsp;of&nbsp;all.&nbsp;For&nbsp;at&nbsp;least&nbsp;two&nbsp;hours&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;loved&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;then&nbsp;Aunts&nbsp;and&nbsp;Uncles&nbsp;came&nbsp;to&nbsp;dinner,&nbsp;and&nbsp;there&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;great&nbsp;rustling&nbsp;of&nbsp;tissue&nbsp;paper&nbsp;and&nbsp;unwrapping&nbsp;of&nbsp;parcels,&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;excitement&nbsp;of&nbsp;looking&nbsp;at&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;new&nbsp;presents&nbsp;the&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;forgotten.<p /><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/sVnkypVEtBr0i0JcfdeJThy98AAQTtikcoRgPArvxSq7Eh83EsvyT3WcbOG5/image.jpeg" width="285" height="357"/> <br />For&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;time&nbsp;he&nbsp;lived&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;toy&nbsp;cupboard&nbsp;or&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;floor,&nbsp;and&nbsp;no&nbsp;one&nbsp;thought&nbsp;very&nbsp;much&nbsp;about&nbsp;him.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;naturally&nbsp;shy,&nbsp;and&nbsp;being&nbsp;only&nbsp;made&nbsp;of&nbsp;velveteen,&nbsp;some&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;more&nbsp;expensive&nbsp;toys&nbsp;quite&nbsp;snubbed&nbsp;him.&nbsp;The&nbsp;mechanical&nbsp;toys&nbsp;were&nbsp;very&nbsp;superior,&nbsp;and&nbsp;looked&nbsp;down&nbsp;upon&nbsp;every&nbsp;one&nbsp;else;&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;full&nbsp;of&nbsp;modern&nbsp;ideas,&nbsp;and&nbsp;pretended&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;real.&nbsp;The&nbsp;model&nbsp;boat,&nbsp;who&nbsp;had&nbsp;lived&nbsp;through&nbsp;two&nbsp;seasons&nbsp;and&nbsp;lost&nbsp;most&nbsp;of&nbsp;his&nbsp;paint,&nbsp;caught&nbsp;the&nbsp;tone&nbsp;from&nbsp;them&nbsp;and&nbsp;never&nbsp;missed&nbsp;an&nbsp;opportunity&nbsp;of&nbsp;referring&nbsp;to&nbsp;his&nbsp;rigging&nbsp;in&nbsp;technical&nbsp;terms.&nbsp;The&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;could&nbsp;not&nbsp;claim&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;a&nbsp;model&nbsp;of&nbsp;anything,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;know&nbsp;that&nbsp;real&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;existed;&nbsp;he&nbsp;thought&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;all&nbsp;stuffed&nbsp;with&nbsp;sawdust&nbsp;like&nbsp;himself,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;understood&nbsp;that&nbsp;sawdust&nbsp;was&nbsp;quite&nbsp;out-of-date&nbsp;and&nbsp;should&nbsp;never&nbsp;be&nbsp;mentioned&nbsp;in&nbsp;modern&nbsp;circles.&nbsp;Even&nbsp;Timothy,&nbsp;the&nbsp;jointed&nbsp;wooden&nbsp;lion,&nbsp;who&nbsp;was&nbsp;made&nbsp;by&nbsp;the&nbsp;disabled&nbsp;soldiers,&nbsp;and&nbsp;should&nbsp;have&nbsp;had&nbsp;broader&nbsp;views,&nbsp;put&nbsp;on&nbsp;airs&nbsp;and&nbsp;pretended&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;connected&nbsp;with&nbsp;Government.&nbsp;Between&nbsp;them&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;poor&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;made&nbsp;to&nbsp;feel&nbsp;himself&nbsp;very&nbsp;insignificant&nbsp;and&nbsp;commonplace,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;only&nbsp;person&nbsp;who&nbsp;was&nbsp;kind&nbsp;to&nbsp;him&nbsp;at&nbsp;all&nbsp;was&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse.<p />The&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse&nbsp;had&nbsp;lived&nbsp;longer&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;than&nbsp;any&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;others.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;so&nbsp;old&nbsp;that&nbsp;his&nbsp;brown&nbsp;coat&nbsp;was&nbsp;bald&nbsp;in&nbsp;patches&nbsp;and&nbsp;showed&nbsp;the&nbsp;seams&nbsp;underneath,&nbsp;and&nbsp;most&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;hairs&nbsp;in&nbsp;his&nbsp;tail&nbsp;had&nbsp;been&nbsp;pulled&nbsp;out&nbsp;to&nbsp;string&nbsp;bead&nbsp;necklaces.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;wise,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;seen&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;succession&nbsp;of&nbsp;mechanical&nbsp;toys&nbsp;arrive&nbsp;to&nbsp;boast&nbsp;and&nbsp;swagger,&nbsp;and&nbsp;by-and-by&nbsp;break&nbsp;their&nbsp;mainsprings&nbsp;and&nbsp;pass&nbsp;away,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;only&nbsp;toys,&nbsp;and&nbsp;would&nbsp;never&nbsp;turn&nbsp;into&nbsp;anything&nbsp;else.&nbsp;For&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;magic&nbsp;is&nbsp;very&nbsp;strange&nbsp;and&nbsp;wonderful,&nbsp;and&nbsp;only&nbsp;those&nbsp;playthings&nbsp;that&nbsp;are&nbsp;old&nbsp;and&nbsp;wise&nbsp;and&nbsp;experienced&nbsp;like&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse&nbsp;understand&nbsp;all&nbsp;about&nbsp;it.<p />"What&nbsp;is&nbsp;REAL?"&nbsp;asked&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;one&nbsp;day,&nbsp;when&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;lying&nbsp;side&nbsp;by&nbsp;side&nbsp;near&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;fender,&nbsp;before&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;came&nbsp;to&nbsp;tidy&nbsp;the&nbsp;room.&nbsp;"Does&nbsp;it&nbsp;mean&nbsp;having&nbsp;things&nbsp;that&nbsp;buzz&nbsp;inside&nbsp;you&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;stick-out&nbsp;handle?"<p />"Real&nbsp;isn't&nbsp;how&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;made,"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse.&nbsp;"It's&nbsp;a&nbsp;thing&nbsp;that&nbsp;happens&nbsp;to&nbsp;you.&nbsp;When&nbsp;a&nbsp;child&nbsp;loves&nbsp;you&nbsp;for&nbsp;a&nbsp;long,&nbsp;long&nbsp;time,&nbsp;not&nbsp;just&nbsp;to&nbsp;play&nbsp;with,&nbsp;but&nbsp;REALLY&nbsp;loves&nbsp;you,&nbsp;then&nbsp;you&nbsp;become&nbsp;Real."<p />"Does&nbsp;it&nbsp;hurt?"&nbsp;asked&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit.<p />"Sometimes,"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;always&nbsp;truthful.&nbsp;"When&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;Real&nbsp;you&nbsp;don't&nbsp;mind&nbsp;being&nbsp;hurt."<p />"Does&nbsp;it&nbsp;happen&nbsp;all&nbsp;at&nbsp;once,&nbsp;like&nbsp;being&nbsp;wound&nbsp;up,"&nbsp;he&nbsp;asked,&nbsp;"or&nbsp;bit&nbsp;by&nbsp;bit?"<p />"It&nbsp;doesn't&nbsp;happen&nbsp;all&nbsp;at&nbsp;once,"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse.&nbsp;"You&nbsp;become.&nbsp;It&nbsp;takes&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;time.&nbsp;That's&nbsp;why&nbsp;it&nbsp;doesn't&nbsp;happen&nbsp;often&nbsp;to&nbsp;people&nbsp;who&nbsp;break&nbsp;easily,&nbsp;or&nbsp;have&nbsp;sharp&nbsp;edges,&nbsp;or&nbsp;who&nbsp;have&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;carefully&nbsp;kept.&nbsp;Generally,&nbsp;by&nbsp;the&nbsp;time&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;Real,&nbsp;most&nbsp;of&nbsp;your&nbsp;hair&nbsp;has&nbsp;been&nbsp;loved&nbsp;off,&nbsp;and&nbsp;your&nbsp;eyes&nbsp;drop&nbsp;out&nbsp;and&nbsp;you&nbsp;get&nbsp;loose&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;joints&nbsp;and&nbsp;very&nbsp;shabby.&nbsp;But&nbsp;these&nbsp;things&nbsp;don't&nbsp;matter&nbsp;at&nbsp;all,&nbsp;because&nbsp;once&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;Real&nbsp;you&nbsp;can't&nbsp;be&nbsp;ugly,&nbsp;except&nbsp;to&nbsp;people&nbsp;who&nbsp;don't&nbsp;understand."<p />"I&nbsp;suppose&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;real?"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;And&nbsp;then&nbsp;he&nbsp;wished&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;not&nbsp;said&nbsp;it,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;thought&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse&nbsp;might&nbsp;be&nbsp;sensitive.&nbsp;But&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse&nbsp;only&nbsp;smiled.<p /><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/00rRoYD3Vdpc9PDZwJuYgE0qoZTlK9a5LKxF8KqUFnOeZ4188QSUMwLRKhuy/0image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/mx4yjhnMHGvNOkqG1dAbaAGVCDNkQle88atrmA1RQH4ZXHZ38FLvBYgrLtpB/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="331"/></a> <p />"The&nbsp;Boy's&nbsp;Uncle&nbsp;made&nbsp;me&nbsp;Real,"&nbsp;he&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"That&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;great&nbsp;many&nbsp;years&nbsp;ago;&nbsp;but&nbsp;once&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;Real&nbsp;you&nbsp;can't&nbsp;become&nbsp;unreal&nbsp;again.&nbsp;It&nbsp;lasts&nbsp;for&nbsp;always."<p />The&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;sighed.&nbsp;He&nbsp;thought&nbsp;it&nbsp;would&nbsp;be&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;time&nbsp;before&nbsp;this&nbsp;magic&nbsp;called&nbsp;Real&nbsp;happened&nbsp;to&nbsp;him.&nbsp;He&nbsp;longed&nbsp;to&nbsp;become&nbsp;Real,&nbsp;to&nbsp;know&nbsp;what&nbsp;it&nbsp;felt&nbsp;like;&nbsp;and&nbsp;yet&nbsp;the&nbsp;idea&nbsp;of&nbsp;growing&nbsp;shabby&nbsp;and&nbsp;losing&nbsp;his&nbsp;eyes&nbsp;and&nbsp;whiskers&nbsp;was&nbsp;rather&nbsp;sad.&nbsp;He&nbsp;wished&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;could&nbsp;become&nbsp;it&nbsp;without&nbsp;these&nbsp;uncomfortable&nbsp;things&nbsp;happening&nbsp;to&nbsp;him.<p />There&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;person&nbsp;called&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;who&nbsp;ruled&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery.&nbsp;Sometimes&nbsp;she&nbsp;took&nbsp;no&nbsp;notice&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;playthings&nbsp;lying&nbsp;about,&nbsp;and&nbsp;sometimes,&nbsp;for&nbsp;no&nbsp;reason&nbsp;whatever,&nbsp;she&nbsp;went&nbsp;swooping&nbsp;about&nbsp;like&nbsp;a&nbsp;great&nbsp;wind&nbsp;and&nbsp;hustled&nbsp;them&nbsp;away&nbsp;in&nbsp;cupboards.&nbsp;She&nbsp;called&nbsp;this&nbsp;"tidying&nbsp;up,"&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;playthings&nbsp;all&nbsp;hated&nbsp;it,&nbsp;especially&nbsp;the&nbsp;tin&nbsp;ones.&nbsp;The&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;mind&nbsp;it&nbsp;so&nbsp;much,&nbsp;for&nbsp;wherever&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;thrown&nbsp;he&nbsp;came&nbsp;down&nbsp;soft.<p />One&nbsp;evening,&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;going&nbsp;to&nbsp;bed,&nbsp;he&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;find&nbsp;the&nbsp;china&nbsp;dog&nbsp;that&nbsp;always&nbsp;slept&nbsp;with&nbsp;him.&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;was&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;hurry,&nbsp;and&nbsp;it&nbsp;was&nbsp;too&nbsp;much&nbsp;trouble&nbsp;to&nbsp;hunt&nbsp;for&nbsp;china&nbsp;dogs&nbsp;at&nbsp;bedtime,&nbsp;so&nbsp;she&nbsp;simply&nbsp;looked&nbsp;about&nbsp;her,&nbsp;and&nbsp;seeing&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;toy&nbsp;cupboard&nbsp;door&nbsp;stood&nbsp;open,&nbsp;she&nbsp;made&nbsp;a&nbsp;swoop.<p />"Here,"&nbsp;she&nbsp;said,&nbsp;"take&nbsp;your&nbsp;old&nbsp;Bunny!&nbsp;He'll&nbsp;do&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleep&nbsp;with&nbsp;you!"&nbsp;And&nbsp;she&nbsp;dragged&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;out&nbsp;by&nbsp;one&nbsp;ear,&nbsp;and&nbsp;put&nbsp;him&nbsp;into&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy's&nbsp;arms.<p />That&nbsp;night,&nbsp;and&nbsp;for&nbsp;many&nbsp;nights&nbsp;after,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;slept&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy's&nbsp;bed.&nbsp;At&nbsp;first&nbsp;he&nbsp;found&nbsp;it&nbsp;rather&nbsp;uncomfortable,&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;hugged&nbsp;him&nbsp;very&nbsp;tight,&nbsp;and&nbsp;sometimes&nbsp;he&nbsp;rolled&nbsp;over&nbsp;on&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;sometimes&nbsp;he&nbsp;pushed&nbsp;him&nbsp;so&nbsp;far&nbsp;under&nbsp;the&nbsp;pillow&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;could&nbsp;scarcely&nbsp;breathe.&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;missed,&nbsp;too,&nbsp;those&nbsp;long&nbsp;moonlight&nbsp;hours&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery,&nbsp;when&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;house&nbsp;was&nbsp;silent,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;talks&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse.&nbsp;But&nbsp;very&nbsp;soon&nbsp;he&nbsp;grew&nbsp;to&nbsp;like&nbsp;it,&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;used&nbsp;to&nbsp;talk&nbsp;to&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;made&nbsp;nice&nbsp;tunnels&nbsp;for&nbsp;him&nbsp;under&nbsp;the&nbsp;bedclothes&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;said&nbsp;were&nbsp;like&nbsp;the&nbsp;burrows&nbsp;the&nbsp;real&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;lived&nbsp;in.&nbsp;And&nbsp;they&nbsp;had&nbsp;splendid&nbsp;games&nbsp;together,&nbsp;in&nbsp;whispers,&nbsp;when&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;had&nbsp;gone&nbsp;away&nbsp;to&nbsp;her&nbsp;supper&nbsp;and&nbsp;left&nbsp;the&nbsp;night-light&nbsp;burning&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;mantelpiece.&nbsp;And&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;dropped&nbsp;off&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleep,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;would&nbsp;snuggle&nbsp;down&nbsp;close&nbsp;under&nbsp;his&nbsp;little&nbsp;warm&nbsp;chin&nbsp;and&nbsp;dream,&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy's&nbsp;hands&nbsp;clasped&nbsp;close&nbsp;round&nbsp;him&nbsp;all&nbsp;night&nbsp;long.<p />And&nbsp;so&nbsp;time&nbsp;went&nbsp;on,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;very&nbsp;happy–so&nbsp;happy&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;never&nbsp;noticed&nbsp;how&nbsp;his&nbsp;beautiful&nbsp;velveteen&nbsp;fur&nbsp;was&nbsp;getting&nbsp;shabbier&nbsp;and&nbsp;shabbier,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;tail&nbsp;becoming&nbsp;unsewn,&nbsp;and&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;pink&nbsp;rubbed&nbsp;off&nbsp;his&nbsp;nose&nbsp;where&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;had&nbsp;kissed&nbsp;him.<p />Spring&nbsp;came,&nbsp;and&nbsp;they&nbsp;had&nbsp;long&nbsp;days&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;garden,&nbsp;for&nbsp;wherever&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;went&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;went&nbsp;too.&nbsp;He&nbsp;had&nbsp;rides&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;wheelbarrow,&nbsp;and&nbsp;picnics&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;grass,&nbsp;and&nbsp;lovely&nbsp;fairy&nbsp;huts&nbsp;built&nbsp;for&nbsp;him&nbsp;under&nbsp;the&nbsp;raspberry&nbsp;canes&nbsp;behind&nbsp;the&nbsp;flower&nbsp;border.&nbsp;And&nbsp;once,&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;called&nbsp;away&nbsp;suddenly&nbsp;to&nbsp;go&nbsp;out&nbsp;to&nbsp;tea,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;left&nbsp;out&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;lawn&nbsp;until&nbsp;long&nbsp;after&nbsp;dusk,&nbsp;and&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;had&nbsp;to&nbsp;come&nbsp;and&nbsp;look&nbsp;for&nbsp;him&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;candle&nbsp;because&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;go&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleep&nbsp;unless&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;there.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;wet&nbsp;through&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;dew&nbsp;and&nbsp;quite&nbsp;earthy&nbsp;from&nbsp;diving&nbsp;into&nbsp;the&nbsp;burrows&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;had&nbsp;made&nbsp;for&nbsp;him&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;flower&nbsp;bed,&nbsp;and&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;grumbled&nbsp;as&nbsp;she&nbsp;rubbed&nbsp;him&nbsp;off&nbsp;with&nbsp;a&nbsp;corner&nbsp;of&nbsp;her&nbsp;apron.<p /><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/DNaCZZwyKpbw4ANEth16rKWe9DKh4UdCCdM44ayYvEB92MiENZ14pHo7ADLB/1image.jpeg" width="285" height="349"/> <p />"You&nbsp;must&nbsp;have&nbsp;your&nbsp;old&nbsp;Bunny!"&nbsp;she&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"Fancy&nbsp;all&nbsp;that&nbsp;fuss&nbsp;for&nbsp;a&nbsp;toy!"<p />The&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;sat&nbsp;up&nbsp;in&nbsp;bed&nbsp;and&nbsp;stretched&nbsp;out&nbsp;his&nbsp;hands.<p />"Give&nbsp;me&nbsp;my&nbsp;Bunny!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"You&nbsp;mustn't&nbsp;say&nbsp;that.&nbsp;He&nbsp;isn't&nbsp;a&nbsp;toy.&nbsp;He's&nbsp;REAL!"<p />When&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;heard&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;happy,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;what&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse&nbsp;had&nbsp;said&nbsp;was&nbsp;true&nbsp;at&nbsp;last.&nbsp;The&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;magic&nbsp;had&nbsp;happened&nbsp;to&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;toy&nbsp;no&nbsp;longer.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;Real.&nbsp;The&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;himself&nbsp;had&nbsp;said&nbsp;it.<p />That&nbsp;night&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;almost&nbsp;too&nbsp;happy&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleep,&nbsp;and&nbsp;so&nbsp;much&nbsp;love&nbsp;stirred&nbsp;in&nbsp;his&nbsp;little&nbsp;sawdust&nbsp;heart&nbsp;that&nbsp;it&nbsp;almost&nbsp;burst.&nbsp;And&nbsp;into&nbsp;his&nbsp;boot-button&nbsp;eyes,&nbsp;that&nbsp;had&nbsp;long&nbsp;ago&nbsp;lost&nbsp;their&nbsp;polish,&nbsp;there&nbsp;came&nbsp;a&nbsp;look&nbsp;of&nbsp;wisdom&nbsp;and&nbsp;beauty,&nbsp;so&nbsp;that&nbsp;even&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;noticed&nbsp;it&nbsp;next&nbsp;morning&nbsp;when&nbsp;she&nbsp;picked&nbsp;him&nbsp;up,&nbsp;and&nbsp;said,&nbsp;"I&nbsp;declare&nbsp;if&nbsp;that&nbsp;old&nbsp;Bunny&nbsp;hasn't&nbsp;got&nbsp;quite&nbsp;a&nbsp;knowing&nbsp;expression!"<p />That&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;wonderful&nbsp;Summer!<p />Near&nbsp;the&nbsp;house&nbsp;where&nbsp;they&nbsp;lived&nbsp;there&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;wood,&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;long&nbsp;June&nbsp;evenings&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;liked&nbsp;to&nbsp;go&nbsp;there&nbsp;after&nbsp;tea&nbsp;to&nbsp;play.&nbsp;He&nbsp;took&nbsp;the&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;with&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;before&nbsp;he&nbsp;wandered&nbsp;off&nbsp;to&nbsp;pick&nbsp;flowers,&nbsp;or&nbsp;play&nbsp;at&nbsp;brigands&nbsp;among&nbsp;the&nbsp;trees,&nbsp;he&nbsp;always&nbsp;made&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;a&nbsp;little&nbsp;nest&nbsp;somewhere&nbsp;among&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken,&nbsp;where&nbsp;he&nbsp;would&nbsp;be&nbsp;quite&nbsp;cosy,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;kind-hearted&nbsp;little&nbsp;boy&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;liked&nbsp;Bunny&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;comfortable.&nbsp;One&nbsp;evening,&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;lying&nbsp;there&nbsp;alone,&nbsp;watching&nbsp;the&nbsp;ants&nbsp;that&nbsp;ran&nbsp;to&nbsp;and&nbsp;fro&nbsp;between&nbsp;his&nbsp;velvet&nbsp;paws&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;grass,&nbsp;he&nbsp;saw&nbsp;two&nbsp;strange&nbsp;beings&nbsp;creep&nbsp;out&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;tall&nbsp;bracken&nbsp;near&nbsp;him.<p />They&nbsp;were&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;like&nbsp;himself,&nbsp;but&nbsp;quite&nbsp;furry&nbsp;and&nbsp;brand-new.&nbsp;They&nbsp;must&nbsp;have&nbsp;been&nbsp;very&nbsp;well&nbsp;made,&nbsp;for&nbsp;their&nbsp;seams&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;show&nbsp;at&nbsp;all,&nbsp;and&nbsp;they&nbsp;changed&nbsp;shape&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;queer&nbsp;way&nbsp;when&nbsp;they&nbsp;moved;&nbsp;one&nbsp;minute&nbsp;they&nbsp;were&nbsp;long&nbsp;and&nbsp;thin&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;next&nbsp;minute&nbsp;fat&nbsp;and&nbsp;bunchy,&nbsp;instead&nbsp;of&nbsp;always&nbsp;staying&nbsp;the&nbsp;same&nbsp;like&nbsp;he&nbsp;did.&nbsp;Their&nbsp;feet&nbsp;padded&nbsp;softly&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;ground,&nbsp;and&nbsp;they&nbsp;crept&nbsp;quite&nbsp;close&nbsp;to&nbsp;him,&nbsp;twitching&nbsp;their&nbsp;noses,&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;stared&nbsp;hard&nbsp;to&nbsp;see&nbsp;which&nbsp;side&nbsp;the&nbsp;clockwork&nbsp;stuck&nbsp;out,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;people&nbsp;who&nbsp;jump&nbsp;generally&nbsp;have&nbsp;something&nbsp;to&nbsp;wind&nbsp;them&nbsp;up.&nbsp;But&nbsp;he&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;see&nbsp;it.&nbsp;They&nbsp;were&nbsp;evidently&nbsp;a&nbsp;new&nbsp;kind&nbsp;of&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;altogether.<p /><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/PIqfu0oed8NyKTZadnrsxREXt60gre2RRm7KSnV2JXPzMUMIt3QfXBYS7miV/2image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Ys6N64Fw7h0rubBEWR8lWRTg9lOCNzDCeGjhzecrJkDtQdMV7i8j9vPKV8Vi/2image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="342"/></a> <p />They&nbsp;stared&nbsp;at&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;stared&nbsp;back.&nbsp;And&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;time&nbsp;their&nbsp;noses&nbsp;twitched.<p />"Why&nbsp;don't&nbsp;you&nbsp;get&nbsp;up&nbsp;and&nbsp;play&nbsp;with&nbsp;us?"&nbsp;one&nbsp;of&nbsp;them&nbsp;asked.<p />"I&nbsp;don't&nbsp;feel&nbsp;like&nbsp;it,"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;want&nbsp;to&nbsp;explain&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;no&nbsp;clockwork.<p />"Ho!"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;furry&nbsp;rabbit.&nbsp;"It's&nbsp;as&nbsp;easy&nbsp;as&nbsp;anything,"&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;gave&nbsp;a&nbsp;big&nbsp;hop&nbsp;sideways&nbsp;and&nbsp;stood&nbsp;on&nbsp;his&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs.<p />"I&nbsp;don't&nbsp;believe&nbsp;you&nbsp;can!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;said.<p />"I&nbsp;can!"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;"I&nbsp;can&nbsp;jump&nbsp;higher&nbsp;than&nbsp;anything!"&nbsp;He&nbsp;meant&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;threw&nbsp;him,&nbsp;but&nbsp;of&nbsp;course&nbsp;he&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;want&nbsp;to&nbsp;say&nbsp;so.<p />"Can&nbsp;you&nbsp;hop&nbsp;on&nbsp;your&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs?"&nbsp;asked&nbsp;the&nbsp;furry&nbsp;rabbit.<p />That&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;dreadful&nbsp;question,&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;had&nbsp;no&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs&nbsp;at&nbsp;all!&nbsp;The&nbsp;back&nbsp;of&nbsp;him&nbsp;was&nbsp;made&nbsp;all&nbsp;in&nbsp;one&nbsp;piece,&nbsp;like&nbsp;a&nbsp;pincushion.&nbsp;He&nbsp;sat&nbsp;still&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken,&nbsp;and&nbsp;hoped&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;other&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;wouldn't&nbsp;notice.<p />"I&nbsp;don't&nbsp;want&nbsp;to!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;said&nbsp;again.<p />But&nbsp;the&nbsp;wild&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;have&nbsp;very&nbsp;sharp&nbsp;eyes.&nbsp;And&nbsp;this&nbsp;one&nbsp;stretched&nbsp;out&nbsp;his&nbsp;neck&nbsp;and&nbsp;looked.<p />"He&nbsp;hasn't&nbsp;got&nbsp;any&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;called&nbsp;out.&nbsp;"Fancy&nbsp;a&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;without&nbsp;any&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs!"&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;began&nbsp;to&nbsp;laugh.<p />"I&nbsp;have!"&nbsp;cried&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;"I&nbsp;have&nbsp;got&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs!&nbsp;I&nbsp;am&nbsp;sitting&nbsp;on&nbsp;them!"<p />"Then&nbsp;stretch&nbsp;them&nbsp;out&nbsp;and&nbsp;show&nbsp;me,&nbsp;like&nbsp;this!"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;wild&nbsp;rabbit.&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;began&nbsp;to&nbsp;whirl&nbsp;round&nbsp;and&nbsp;dance,&nbsp;till&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;got&nbsp;quite&nbsp;dizzy.<p />"I&nbsp;don't&nbsp;like&nbsp;dancing,"&nbsp;he&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"I'd&nbsp;rather&nbsp;sit&nbsp;still!"<p />But&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;while&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;longing&nbsp;to&nbsp;dance,&nbsp;for&nbsp;a&nbsp;funny&nbsp;new&nbsp;tickly&nbsp;feeling&nbsp;ran&nbsp;through&nbsp;him,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;felt&nbsp;he&nbsp;would&nbsp;give&nbsp;anything&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;world&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;able&nbsp;to&nbsp;jump&nbsp;about&nbsp;like&nbsp;these&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;did.<p />The&nbsp;strange&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;stopped&nbsp;dancing,&nbsp;and&nbsp;came&nbsp;quite&nbsp;close.&nbsp;He&nbsp;came&nbsp;so&nbsp;close&nbsp;this&nbsp;time&nbsp;that&nbsp;his&nbsp;long&nbsp;whiskers&nbsp;brushed&nbsp;the&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit's&nbsp;ear,&nbsp;and&nbsp;then&nbsp;he&nbsp;wrinkled&nbsp;his&nbsp;nose&nbsp;suddenly&nbsp;and&nbsp;flattened&nbsp;his&nbsp;ears&nbsp;and&nbsp;jumped&nbsp;backwards.<p />"He&nbsp;doesn't&nbsp;smell&nbsp;right!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;exclaimed.&nbsp;"He&nbsp;isn't&nbsp;a&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;at&nbsp;all!&nbsp;He&nbsp;isn't&nbsp;real!"<p />"I&nbsp;am&nbsp;Real!"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;"I&nbsp;am&nbsp;Real!&nbsp;The&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;said&nbsp;so!"&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;nearly&nbsp;began&nbsp;to&nbsp;cry.<p />Just&nbsp;then&nbsp;there&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;sound&nbsp;of&nbsp;footsteps,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;ran&nbsp;past&nbsp;near&nbsp;them,&nbsp;and&nbsp;with&nbsp;a&nbsp;stamp&nbsp;of&nbsp;feet&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;flash&nbsp;of&nbsp;white&nbsp;tails&nbsp;the&nbsp;two&nbsp;strange&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;disappeared.<p />"Come&nbsp;back&nbsp;and&nbsp;play&nbsp;with&nbsp;me!"&nbsp;called&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;"Oh,&nbsp;do&nbsp;come&nbsp;back!&nbsp;I&nbsp;know&nbsp;I&nbsp;am&nbsp;Real!"<p />But&nbsp;there&nbsp;was&nbsp;no&nbsp;answer,&nbsp;only&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;ants&nbsp;ran&nbsp;to&nbsp;and&nbsp;fro,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken&nbsp;swayed&nbsp;gently&nbsp;where&nbsp;the&nbsp;two&nbsp;strangers&nbsp;had&nbsp;passed.&nbsp;The&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;all&nbsp;alone.<p />"Oh,&nbsp;dear!"&nbsp;he&nbsp;thought.&nbsp;"Why&nbsp;did&nbsp;they&nbsp;run&nbsp;away&nbsp;like&nbsp;that?&nbsp;Why&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;they&nbsp;stop&nbsp;and&nbsp;talk&nbsp;to&nbsp;me?"<p />For&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;time&nbsp;he&nbsp;lay&nbsp;very&nbsp;still,&nbsp;watching&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken,&nbsp;and&nbsp;hoping&nbsp;that&nbsp;they&nbsp;would&nbsp;come&nbsp;back.&nbsp;But&nbsp;they&nbsp;never&nbsp;returned,&nbsp;and&nbsp;presently&nbsp;the&nbsp;sun&nbsp;sank&nbsp;lower&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;white&nbsp;moths&nbsp;fluttered&nbsp;out,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;came&nbsp;and&nbsp;carried&nbsp;him&nbsp;home.<p />Weeks&nbsp;passed,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;grew&nbsp;very&nbsp;old&nbsp;and&nbsp;shabby,&nbsp;but&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;loved&nbsp;him&nbsp;just&nbsp;as&nbsp;much.&nbsp;He&nbsp;loved&nbsp;him&nbsp;so&nbsp;hard&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;loved&nbsp;all&nbsp;his&nbsp;whiskers&nbsp;off,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;pink&nbsp;lining&nbsp;to&nbsp;his&nbsp;ears&nbsp;turned&nbsp;grey,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;brown&nbsp;spots&nbsp;faded.&nbsp;He&nbsp;even&nbsp;began&nbsp;to&nbsp;lose&nbsp;his&nbsp;shape,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;scarcely&nbsp;looked&nbsp;like&nbsp;a&nbsp;rabbit&nbsp;any&nbsp;more,&nbsp;except&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy.&nbsp;To&nbsp;him&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;always&nbsp;beautiful,&nbsp;and&nbsp;that&nbsp;was&nbsp;all&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;cared&nbsp;about.&nbsp;He&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;mind&nbsp;how&nbsp;he&nbsp;looked&nbsp;to&nbsp;other&nbsp;people,&nbsp;because&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;magic&nbsp;had&nbsp;made&nbsp;him&nbsp;Real,&nbsp;and&nbsp;when&nbsp;you&nbsp;are&nbsp;Real&nbsp;shabbiness&nbsp;doesn't&nbsp;matter.<p />And&nbsp;then,&nbsp;one&nbsp;day,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;ill.<p />His&nbsp;face&nbsp;grew&nbsp;very&nbsp;flushed,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;talked&nbsp;in&nbsp;his&nbsp;sleep,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;little&nbsp;body&nbsp;was&nbsp;so&nbsp;hot&nbsp;that&nbsp;it&nbsp;burned&nbsp;the&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;when&nbsp;he&nbsp;held&nbsp;him&nbsp;close.&nbsp;Strange&nbsp;people&nbsp;came&nbsp;and&nbsp;went&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery,&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;light&nbsp;burned&nbsp;all&nbsp;night&nbsp;and&nbsp;through&nbsp;it&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Velveteen&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;lay&nbsp;there,&nbsp;hidden&nbsp;from&nbsp;sight&nbsp;under&nbsp;the&nbsp;bedclothes,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;never&nbsp;stirred,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;afraid&nbsp;that&nbsp;if&nbsp;they&nbsp;found&nbsp;him&nbsp;some&nbsp;one&nbsp;might&nbsp;take&nbsp;him&nbsp;away,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;needed&nbsp;him.<p />It&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;weary&nbsp;time,&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;too&nbsp;ill&nbsp;to&nbsp;play,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;found&nbsp;it&nbsp;rather&nbsp;dull&nbsp;with&nbsp;nothing&nbsp;to&nbsp;do&nbsp;all&nbsp;day&nbsp;long.&nbsp;But&nbsp;he&nbsp;snuggled&nbsp;down&nbsp;patiently,&nbsp;and&nbsp;looked&nbsp;forward&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;time&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;should&nbsp;be&nbsp;well&nbsp;again,&nbsp;and&nbsp;they&nbsp;would&nbsp;go&nbsp;out&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;garden&nbsp;amongst&nbsp;the&nbsp;flowers&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;butterflies&nbsp;and&nbsp;play&nbsp;splendid&nbsp;games&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;raspberry&nbsp;thicket&nbsp;like&nbsp;they&nbsp;used&nbsp;to.&nbsp;All&nbsp;sorts&nbsp;of&nbsp;delightful&nbsp;things&nbsp;he&nbsp;planned,&nbsp;and&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;lay&nbsp;half&nbsp;asleep&nbsp;he&nbsp;crept&nbsp;up&nbsp;close&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;pillow&nbsp;and&nbsp;whispered&nbsp;them&nbsp;in&nbsp;his&nbsp;ear.&nbsp;And&nbsp;presently&nbsp;the&nbsp;fever&nbsp;turned,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;got&nbsp;better.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;able&nbsp;to&nbsp;sit&nbsp;up&nbsp;in&nbsp;bed&nbsp;and&nbsp;look&nbsp;at&nbsp;picture-books,&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;cuddled&nbsp;close&nbsp;at&nbsp;his&nbsp;side.&nbsp;And&nbsp;one&nbsp;day,&nbsp;they&nbsp;let&nbsp;him&nbsp;get&nbsp;up&nbsp;and&nbsp;dress.<p />It&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;bright,&nbsp;sunny&nbsp;morning,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;windows&nbsp;stood&nbsp;wide&nbsp;open.&nbsp;They&nbsp;had&nbsp;carried&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;out&nbsp;on&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;balcony,&nbsp;wrapped&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;shawl,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;lay&nbsp;tangled&nbsp;up&nbsp;among&nbsp;the&nbsp;bedclothes,&nbsp;thinking.<p />The&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;going&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;seaside&nbsp;to-morrow.&nbsp;Everything&nbsp;was&nbsp;arranged,&nbsp;and&nbsp;now&nbsp;it&nbsp;only&nbsp;remained&nbsp;to&nbsp;carry&nbsp;out&nbsp;the&nbsp;doctor's&nbsp;orders.&nbsp;They&nbsp;talked&nbsp;about&nbsp;it&nbsp;all,&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;lay&nbsp;under&nbsp;the&nbsp;bedclothes,&nbsp;with&nbsp;just&nbsp;his&nbsp;head&nbsp;peeping&nbsp;out,&nbsp;and&nbsp;listened.&nbsp;The&nbsp;room&nbsp;was&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;disinfected,&nbsp;and&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;books&nbsp;and&nbsp;toys&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;had&nbsp;played&nbsp;with&nbsp;in&nbsp;bed&nbsp;must&nbsp;be&nbsp;burnt.<p />"Hurrah!"&nbsp;thought&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.&nbsp;"To-morrow&nbsp;we&nbsp;shall&nbsp;go&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;seaside!"&nbsp;For&nbsp;the&nbsp;boy&nbsp;had&nbsp;often&nbsp;talked&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;seaside,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;wanted&nbsp;very&nbsp;much&nbsp;to&nbsp;see&nbsp;the&nbsp;big&nbsp;waves&nbsp;coming&nbsp;in,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;tiny&nbsp;crabs,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;sand&nbsp;castles.<p />Just&nbsp;then&nbsp;Nana&nbsp;caught&nbsp;sight&nbsp;of&nbsp;him.<p />"How&nbsp;about&nbsp;his&nbsp;old&nbsp;Bunny?"&nbsp;she&nbsp;asked.<p />"That?"&nbsp;said&nbsp;the&nbsp;doctor.&nbsp;"Why,&nbsp;it's&nbsp;a&nbsp;mass&nbsp;of&nbsp;scarlet&nbsp;fever&nbsp;germs!–Burn&nbsp;it&nbsp;at&nbsp;once.&nbsp;What?&nbsp;Nonsense!&nbsp;Get&nbsp;him&nbsp;a&nbsp;new&nbsp;one.&nbsp;He&nbsp;mustn't&nbsp;have&nbsp;that&nbsp;any&nbsp;more!"<p /><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/1bBVD22FAh1U3JrGhfC2bFO1ChB0AuUjNEy1i2IZJbcF3HAcLF3SnYdCZd3H/3image.jpeg" width="274" height="344"/> <p />And&nbsp;so&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;was&nbsp;put&nbsp;into&nbsp;a&nbsp;sack&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;old&nbsp;picture-books&nbsp;and&nbsp;a&nbsp;lot&nbsp;of&nbsp;rubbish,&nbsp;and&nbsp;carried&nbsp;out&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;end&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;garden&nbsp;behind&nbsp;the&nbsp;fowl-house.&nbsp;That&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;fine&nbsp;place&nbsp;to&nbsp;make&nbsp;a&nbsp;bonfire,&nbsp;only&nbsp;the&nbsp;gardener&nbsp;was&nbsp;too&nbsp;busy&nbsp;just&nbsp;then&nbsp;to&nbsp;attend&nbsp;to&nbsp;it.&nbsp;He&nbsp;had&nbsp;the&nbsp;potatoes&nbsp;to&nbsp;dig&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;green&nbsp;peas&nbsp;to&nbsp;gather,&nbsp;but&nbsp;next&nbsp;morning&nbsp;he&nbsp;promised&nbsp;to&nbsp;come&nbsp;quite&nbsp;early&nbsp;and&nbsp;burn&nbsp;the&nbsp;whole&nbsp;lot.<p />That&nbsp;night&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;slept&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;different&nbsp;bedroom,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;a&nbsp;new&nbsp;bunny&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleep&nbsp;with&nbsp;him.&nbsp;It&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;splendid&nbsp;bunny,&nbsp;all&nbsp;white&nbsp;plush&nbsp;with&nbsp;real&nbsp;glass&nbsp;eyes,&nbsp;but&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;too&nbsp;excited&nbsp;to&nbsp;care&nbsp;very&nbsp;much&nbsp;about&nbsp;it.&nbsp;For&nbsp;to-morrow&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;going&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;seaside,&nbsp;and&nbsp;that&nbsp;in&nbsp;itself&nbsp;was&nbsp;such&nbsp;a&nbsp;wonderful&nbsp;thing&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;could&nbsp;think&nbsp;of&nbsp;nothing&nbsp;else.<p />And&nbsp;while&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;was&nbsp;asleep,&nbsp;dreaming&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;seaside,&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;lay&nbsp;among&nbsp;the&nbsp;old&nbsp;picture-books&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;corner&nbsp;behind&nbsp;the&nbsp;fowl-house,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;felt&nbsp;very&nbsp;lonely.&nbsp;The&nbsp;sack&nbsp;had&nbsp;been&nbsp;left&nbsp;untied,&nbsp;and&nbsp;so&nbsp;by&nbsp;wriggling&nbsp;a&nbsp;bit&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;able&nbsp;to&nbsp;get&nbsp;his&nbsp;head&nbsp;through&nbsp;the&nbsp;opening&nbsp;and&nbsp;look&nbsp;out.&nbsp;He&nbsp;was&nbsp;shivering&nbsp;a&nbsp;little,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;always&nbsp;been&nbsp;used&nbsp;to&nbsp;sleeping&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;proper&nbsp;bed,&nbsp;and&nbsp;by&nbsp;this&nbsp;time&nbsp;his&nbsp;coat&nbsp;had&nbsp;worn&nbsp;so&nbsp;thin&nbsp;and&nbsp;threadbare&nbsp;from&nbsp;hugging&nbsp;that&nbsp;it&nbsp;was&nbsp;no&nbsp;longer&nbsp;any&nbsp;protection&nbsp;to&nbsp;him.&nbsp;Near&nbsp;by&nbsp;he&nbsp;could&nbsp;see&nbsp;the&nbsp;thicket&nbsp;of&nbsp;raspberry&nbsp;canes,&nbsp;growing&nbsp;tall&nbsp;and&nbsp;close&nbsp;like&nbsp;a&nbsp;tropical&nbsp;jungle,&nbsp;in&nbsp;whose&nbsp;shadow&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;played&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;on&nbsp;bygone&nbsp;mornings.&nbsp;He&nbsp;thought&nbsp;of&nbsp;those&nbsp;long&nbsp;sunlit&nbsp;hours&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;garden–how&nbsp;happy&nbsp;they&nbsp;were–and&nbsp;a&nbsp;great&nbsp;sadness&nbsp;came&nbsp;over&nbsp;him.&nbsp;He&nbsp;seemed&nbsp;to&nbsp;see&nbsp;them&nbsp;all&nbsp;pass&nbsp;before&nbsp;him,&nbsp;each&nbsp;more&nbsp;beautiful&nbsp;than&nbsp;the&nbsp;other,&nbsp;the&nbsp;fairy&nbsp;huts&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;flower-bed,&nbsp;the&nbsp;quiet&nbsp;evenings&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;wood&nbsp;when&nbsp;he&nbsp;lay&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;ants&nbsp;ran&nbsp;over&nbsp;his&nbsp;paws;&nbsp;the&nbsp;wonderful&nbsp;day&nbsp;when&nbsp;he&nbsp;first&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;Real.&nbsp;He&nbsp;thought&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;Skin&nbsp;Horse,&nbsp;so&nbsp;wise&nbsp;and&nbsp;gentle,&nbsp;and&nbsp;all&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;told&nbsp;him.&nbsp;Of&nbsp;what&nbsp;use&nbsp;was&nbsp;it&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;loved&nbsp;and&nbsp;lose&nbsp;one's&nbsp;beauty&nbsp;and&nbsp;become&nbsp;Real&nbsp;if&nbsp;it&nbsp;all&nbsp;ended&nbsp;like&nbsp;this?&nbsp;And&nbsp;a&nbsp;tear,&nbsp;a&nbsp;real&nbsp;tear,&nbsp;trickled&nbsp;down&nbsp;his&nbsp;little&nbsp;shabby&nbsp;velvet&nbsp;nose&nbsp;and&nbsp;fell&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;ground.<p />And&nbsp;then&nbsp;a&nbsp;strange&nbsp;thing&nbsp;happened.&nbsp;For&nbsp;where&nbsp;the&nbsp;tear&nbsp;had&nbsp;fallen&nbsp;a&nbsp;flower&nbsp;grew&nbsp;out&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;ground,&nbsp;a&nbsp;mysterious&nbsp;flower,&nbsp;not&nbsp;at&nbsp;all&nbsp;like&nbsp;any&nbsp;that&nbsp;grew&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;garden.&nbsp;It&nbsp;had&nbsp;slender&nbsp;green&nbsp;leaves&nbsp;the&nbsp;colour&nbsp;of&nbsp;emeralds,&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;centre&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;leaves&nbsp;a&nbsp;blossom&nbsp;like&nbsp;a&nbsp;golden&nbsp;cup.&nbsp;It&nbsp;was&nbsp;so&nbsp;beautiful&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;forgot&nbsp;to&nbsp;cry,&nbsp;and&nbsp;just&nbsp;lay&nbsp;there&nbsp;watching&nbsp;it.&nbsp;And&nbsp;presently&nbsp;the&nbsp;blossom&nbsp;opened,&nbsp;and&nbsp;out&nbsp;of&nbsp;it&nbsp;there&nbsp;stepped&nbsp;a&nbsp;fairy.<p />She&nbsp;was&nbsp;quite&nbsp;the&nbsp;loveliest&nbsp;fairy&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;whole&nbsp;world.&nbsp;Her&nbsp;dress&nbsp;was&nbsp;of&nbsp;pearl&nbsp;and&nbsp;dew-drops,&nbsp;and&nbsp;there&nbsp;were&nbsp;flowers&nbsp;round&nbsp;her&nbsp;neck&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;her&nbsp;hair,&nbsp;and&nbsp;her&nbsp;face&nbsp;was&nbsp;like&nbsp;the&nbsp;most&nbsp;perfect&nbsp;flower&nbsp;of&nbsp;all.&nbsp;And&nbsp;she&nbsp;came&nbsp;close&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;and&nbsp;gathered&nbsp;him&nbsp;up&nbsp;in&nbsp;her&nbsp;arms&nbsp;and&nbsp;kissed&nbsp;him&nbsp;on&nbsp;his&nbsp;velveteen&nbsp;nose&nbsp;that&nbsp;was&nbsp;all&nbsp;damp&nbsp;from&nbsp;crying.<p />"Little&nbsp;Rabbit,"&nbsp;she&nbsp;said,&nbsp;"don't&nbsp;you&nbsp;know&nbsp;who&nbsp;I&nbsp;am?"<p />The&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;looked&nbsp;up&nbsp;at&nbsp;her,&nbsp;and&nbsp;it&nbsp;seemed&nbsp;to&nbsp;him&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;seen&nbsp;her&nbsp;face&nbsp;before,&nbsp;but&nbsp;he&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;think&nbsp;where.<p />"I&nbsp;am&nbsp;the&nbsp;nursery&nbsp;magic&nbsp;Fairy,"&nbsp;she&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"I&nbsp;take&nbsp;care&nbsp;of&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;playthings&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;children&nbsp;have&nbsp;loved.&nbsp;When&nbsp;they&nbsp;are&nbsp;old&nbsp;and&nbsp;worn&nbsp;out&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;children&nbsp;don't&nbsp;need&nbsp;them&nbsp;any&nbsp;more,&nbsp;then&nbsp;I&nbsp;come&nbsp;and&nbsp;take&nbsp;them&nbsp;away&nbsp;with&nbsp;me&nbsp;and&nbsp;turn&nbsp;them&nbsp;into&nbsp;Real."<p />"Wasn't&nbsp;I&nbsp;Real&nbsp;before?"&nbsp;asked&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit.<p />"You&nbsp;were&nbsp;Real&nbsp;to&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy,"&nbsp;the&nbsp;Fairy&nbsp;said,&nbsp;"because&nbsp;he&nbsp;loved&nbsp;you.&nbsp;Now&nbsp;you&nbsp;shall&nbsp;be&nbsp;Real&nbsp;to&nbsp;every&nbsp;one."<p /><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/EkajygC8lORaM3YPu8YzAwWlgxW41mdIeoRCU0QcPhCcsmwYBJhe6xRpX9In/4image.jpeg" width="278" height="345"/> <p />And&nbsp;she&nbsp;held&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;close&nbsp;in&nbsp;her&nbsp;arms&nbsp;and&nbsp;flew&nbsp;with&nbsp;him&nbsp;into&nbsp;the&nbsp;wood.<p />It&nbsp;was&nbsp;light&nbsp;now,&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;moon&nbsp;had&nbsp;risen.&nbsp;All&nbsp;the&nbsp;forest&nbsp;was&nbsp;beautiful,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;fronds&nbsp;of&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken&nbsp;shone&nbsp;like&nbsp;frosted&nbsp;silver.&nbsp;In&nbsp;the&nbsp;open&nbsp;glade&nbsp;between&nbsp;the&nbsp;tree-trunks&nbsp;the&nbsp;wild&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;danced&nbsp;with&nbsp;their&nbsp;shadows&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;velvet&nbsp;grass,&nbsp;but&nbsp;when&nbsp;they&nbsp;saw&nbsp;the&nbsp;Fairy&nbsp;they&nbsp;all&nbsp;stopped&nbsp;dancing&nbsp;and&nbsp;stood&nbsp;round&nbsp;in&nbsp;a&nbsp;ring&nbsp;to&nbsp;stare&nbsp;at&nbsp;her.<p />"I've&nbsp;brought&nbsp;you&nbsp;a&nbsp;new&nbsp;playfellow,"&nbsp;the&nbsp;Fairy&nbsp;said.&nbsp;"You&nbsp;must&nbsp;be&nbsp;very&nbsp;kind&nbsp;to&nbsp;him&nbsp;and&nbsp;teach&nbsp;him&nbsp;all&nbsp;he&nbsp;needs&nbsp;to&nbsp;know&nbsp;in&nbsp;Rabbit-land,&nbsp;for&nbsp;he&nbsp;is&nbsp;going&nbsp;to&nbsp;live&nbsp;with&nbsp;you&nbsp;for&nbsp;ever&nbsp;and&nbsp;ever!"<p />And&nbsp;she&nbsp;kissed&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;again&nbsp;and&nbsp;put&nbsp;him&nbsp;down&nbsp;on&nbsp;the&nbsp;grass.<p />"Run&nbsp;and&nbsp;play,&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit!"&nbsp;she&nbsp;said.<p />But&nbsp;the&nbsp;little&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;sat&nbsp;quite&nbsp;still&nbsp;for&nbsp;a&nbsp;moment&nbsp;and&nbsp;never&nbsp;moved.&nbsp;For&nbsp;when&nbsp;he&nbsp;saw&nbsp;all&nbsp;the&nbsp;wild&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;dancing&nbsp;around&nbsp;him&nbsp;he&nbsp;suddenly&nbsp;remembered&nbsp;about&nbsp;his&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;didn't&nbsp;want&nbsp;them&nbsp;to&nbsp;see&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;made&nbsp;all&nbsp;in&nbsp;one&nbsp;piece.&nbsp;He&nbsp;did&nbsp;not&nbsp;know&nbsp;that&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;Fairy&nbsp;kissed&nbsp;him&nbsp;that&nbsp;last&nbsp;time&nbsp;she&nbsp;had&nbsp;changed&nbsp;him&nbsp;altogether.&nbsp;And&nbsp;he&nbsp;might&nbsp;have&nbsp;sat&nbsp;there&nbsp;a&nbsp;long&nbsp;time,&nbsp;too&nbsp;shy&nbsp;to&nbsp;move,&nbsp;if&nbsp;just&nbsp;then&nbsp;something&nbsp;hadn't&nbsp;tickled&nbsp;his&nbsp;nose,&nbsp;and&nbsp;before&nbsp;he&nbsp;thought&nbsp;what&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;doing&nbsp;he&nbsp;lifted&nbsp;his&nbsp;hind&nbsp;toe&nbsp;to&nbsp;scratch&nbsp;it.<p />And&nbsp;he&nbsp;found&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;actually&nbsp;had&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs!&nbsp;Instead&nbsp;of&nbsp;dingy&nbsp;velveteen&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;brown&nbsp;fur,&nbsp;soft&nbsp;and&nbsp;shiny,&nbsp;his&nbsp;ears&nbsp;twitched&nbsp;by&nbsp;themselves,&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;whiskers&nbsp;were&nbsp;so&nbsp;long&nbsp;that&nbsp;they&nbsp;brushed&nbsp;the&nbsp;grass.&nbsp;He&nbsp;gave&nbsp;one&nbsp;leap&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;joy&nbsp;of&nbsp;using&nbsp;those&nbsp;hind&nbsp;legs&nbsp;was&nbsp;so&nbsp;great&nbsp;that&nbsp;he&nbsp;went&nbsp;springing&nbsp;about&nbsp;the&nbsp;turf&nbsp;on&nbsp;them,&nbsp;jumping&nbsp;sideways&nbsp;and&nbsp;whirling&nbsp;round&nbsp;as&nbsp;the&nbsp;others&nbsp;did,&nbsp;and&nbsp;he&nbsp;grew&nbsp;so&nbsp;excited&nbsp;that&nbsp;when&nbsp;at&nbsp;last&nbsp;he&nbsp;did&nbsp;stop&nbsp;to&nbsp;look&nbsp;for&nbsp;the&nbsp;Fairy&nbsp;she&nbsp;had&nbsp;gone.<p />He&nbsp;was&nbsp;a&nbsp;Real&nbsp;Rabbit&nbsp;at&nbsp;last,&nbsp;at&nbsp;home&nbsp;with&nbsp;the&nbsp;other&nbsp;rabbits.<p /><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Rk4A1ssADxVa3U4lVY1fetV0uWc5QbF1MBSLVrj75M9DtBMarfUuHU9Xace5/5image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/bAjd0MxGAyAQn1sAUlKA9akrDxNFWPeECDPA7UXNCZQts3nJgq17bwdniaRp/5image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="341"/></a> <p />Autumn&nbsp;passed&nbsp;and&nbsp;Winter,&nbsp;and&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;Spring,&nbsp;when&nbsp;the&nbsp;days&nbsp;grew&nbsp;warm&nbsp;and&nbsp;sunny,&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;went&nbsp;out&nbsp;to&nbsp;play&nbsp;in&nbsp;the&nbsp;wood&nbsp;behind&nbsp;the&nbsp;house.&nbsp;And&nbsp;while&nbsp;he&nbsp;was&nbsp;playing,&nbsp;two&nbsp;rabbits&nbsp;crept&nbsp;out&nbsp;from&nbsp;the&nbsp;bracken&nbsp;and&nbsp;peeped&nbsp;at&nbsp;him.&nbsp;One&nbsp;of&nbsp;them&nbsp;was&nbsp;brown&nbsp;all&nbsp;over,&nbsp;but&nbsp;the&nbsp;other&nbsp;had&nbsp;strange&nbsp;markings&nbsp;under&nbsp;his&nbsp;fur,&nbsp;as&nbsp;though&nbsp;long&nbsp;ago&nbsp;he&nbsp;had&nbsp;been&nbsp;spotted,&nbsp;and&nbsp;the&nbsp;spots&nbsp;still&nbsp;showed&nbsp;through.&nbsp;And&nbsp;about&nbsp;his&nbsp;little&nbsp;soft&nbsp;nose&nbsp;and&nbsp;his&nbsp;round&nbsp;black&nbsp;eyes&nbsp;there&nbsp;was&nbsp;something&nbsp;familiar,&nbsp;so&nbsp;that&nbsp;the&nbsp;Boy&nbsp;thought&nbsp;to&nbsp;himself:<p />"Why,&nbsp;he&nbsp;looks&nbsp;just&nbsp;like&nbsp;my&nbsp;old&nbsp;Bunny&nbsp;that&nbsp;was&nbsp;lost&nbsp;when&nbsp;I&nbsp;had&nbsp;scarlet&nbsp;fever!"<p />But&nbsp;he&nbsp;never&nbsp;knew&nbsp;that&nbsp;it&nbsp;really&nbsp;was&nbsp;his&nbsp;own&nbsp;Bunny,&nbsp;come&nbsp;back&nbsp;to&nbsp;look&nbsp;at&nbsp;the&nbsp;child&nbsp;who&nbsp;had&nbsp;first&nbsp;helped&nbsp;him&nbsp;to&nbsp;be&nbsp;Real.</div><p /><div>* * *</div><p />This book has been put on-line as part of the&nbsp;<a href="http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/instructions-2.html" style="color: rgb(0, 24, 140);">BUILD-A-BOOK</a>&nbsp;Initiative at the&nbsp;<br /><a href="http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/writers.html" style="color: rgb(0, 24, 140);">Celebration of Women Writers</a>. <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-velveteen-rabbit-or-how-toys-become-real">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8187593484403394061?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-78571022789412987562011-01-12T17:15:00.001Z2011-01-12T17:15:33.041Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7OpOKelfg4E&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7OpOKelfg4E&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Maybe this time, I'll be lucky, <br />Maybe this time, he'll stay, Maybe this time, <br />For the first time, Love won't hurry away. He will hold me fast, <br />I'll be home at last, Not a loser anymore, Like the last time, And the time before. Everybody loves a winner, So nobody loved me; 'Lady Peaceful,' 'Lady Happy,' That's what I long to be, <br />All the odds are in my favour, Something's bound to begin, It's got to happen, happen sometime, <br />Maybe this time I'll win..... <p /> Maybe this time, I'll be lucky, Maybe this time, he'll stay, <br />Maybe this time, <br />For the first time, <br />Love won't hurry away. He will hold me fast, <br />I'll be home at last, <br />Not a loser anymore, <br />Like the last time, And the time before. Everybody loves a winner, <br />So nobody loved me; 'Lady Peaceful,' 'Lady Happy,' That's what I long to be, All the odds are in my favour, Something's bound to begin! It's got to happen, happen sometime Maybe this time, maybe this time, I'll win..... <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/maybe-this-time-cabaret-liza-minnelli">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-7857102278941298756?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-87665757679052970652011-01-09T18:14:00.001Z2011-01-09T18:14:12.187Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/RlyjlR8sauCIWOSzrH3pA8rTKUfjT8Wx9kJEzo15ijiG4D2aXSQglUnNPfvE/image.jpeg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/gMDijB2ZqxO4sKTWXYMLHEHIriJuHSfGeQv9dTTIIrzCNzh3nbn3vOWsDSRx/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="378"/></a> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/im-going-to-smile-a-poem-verse">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-8766575767905297065?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-25205778965816209812011-01-09T14:45:00.001Z2011-01-09T14:45:54.323Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/coAtExaoq9bFNzbF5eJRlNHiXuMJBIyJtWY1dzXv5PPVK99rCo7WU2JOL4SM/photo.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/8pVOURC9pg2sy9MZI0XM9xyC2pxJX5YHVND1MitrVM0JUCSqYm4CDonXdpvb/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="748"/></a> <p>Copyright © Ryan Price 2011</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/gulls-on-the-river-usk-at-dusk-abergavenny-8t">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2520577896581620981?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-36173918690167664182011-01-09T13:57:00.001Z2011-01-09T13:57:47.290Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/BtuelFx7JjrfTLMTolOBaaX65cjFvJgMbk3DapA66Mm925PBk1rT1NxCrj0v/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iL8EnrXlRJMav7DH8u78HTs2AaYe5yAt6vo1Stf0pSPu3RIAAmJXkCSkQsZ6/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="373"/></a> <p>Copyright © Ryan Price 2011 <p /> contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintageish-landscape-the-river-usk-at-dusk-ja">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-3617391869016766418?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-19323676513526246642011-01-09T13:51:00.001Z2011-01-09T13:51:52.966Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/N4ogVFCIquyerHgIJWCMelZvTtaUz9pK6vFB7K1qt2fUXEpecU3oBt03h1IX/photo.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/uSA4GqtfkvhCNcd9ICfaPD0Dg5uIWc3cP6sfAiGiNH9btqNXJa1tEP6T0wIZ/photo.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="669"/></a> <p>Copyright © Ryan Price 2011 <p /> contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/vintageish-portrait-baby-jack-at-12-weeks-old">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1932367651352624664?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-7772478947499264022011-01-06T23:40:00.001Z2011-01-06T23:40:12.996Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><div><p /><span style=""><span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeRlvpdAFBE&amp;feature=youtube_gdata_player"></a><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeRlvpdAFBE&amp;feature=youtube_gdata_player"></a><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeRlvpdAFBE&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeRlvpdAFBE&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window" height="417" width="500"></embed></object></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>Gonna be someone,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>gonna give something,</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I'm taking it on,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm taking it on,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>It's gonna be my life,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>so I'm gonna live each day and each night,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>Taking it on, I'm taking it on.&nbsp;</span></span></div><p /><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>'Cause I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep running away,&nbsp;</span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>So I'm gonna be stronger,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna be better made,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna give everything,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>Just to bring me back again.&nbsp;</span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>I'm gonna be a braver soul than this,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I'm gonna jump at all those many chances that I've missed,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I'm gonna live my life beyond these fears,</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>and forms of cowardice that keep leading me on.&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I'm gonna shine out like a beacon in the night,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I'm gonna wrap my fingers round the stars tonight,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>'Cause I'm taking it on, 'cause I'm taking it on...&nbsp;</span></span></div><p /><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep running away,</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>So I'm gonna be stronger,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna be better made,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna give everything,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>Just to bring me back again.&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>So I'm gonna be stronger,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna be understood,</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style="">and I'm gonna give everything,</span></div><div><span style=""></span><span style="">Just to bring me back again</span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>So I'm gonna be stronger,</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style="">and I'm gonna be better made,&nbsp;</span></div><div><span style=""><span>I'm gonna give everything,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><span>Just to bring me back again.</span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>'Cause I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep hiding,&nbsp;</span></span></div><div><span style=""><span>I can't keep running away.</span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span></span></span><span style=""><br /></span><span style=""><span>contra omnia discrimina</span></span></div> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-tom-baxter-my-declaration-0">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-777247894749926402?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-62703061572456396792011-01-06T20:49:00.001Z2011-01-06T20:49:49.657Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><object height="417" width="500"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeRlvpdAFBE&hl=en&fs=1" /></param><param name="wmode" value="window" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zeRlvpdAFBE&hl=en&fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" wmode="window" height="417" width="500"></embed></object><p /> Gonna be someone, gonna give something, I'm taking it on, I'm taking it on, It's gonna be my life, so I'm gonna live each day and each night, Taking it on, I'm taking it on 'Cause I can't keep hiding, I can't keep hiding, I can't keep running away So I'm gonna be stronger, I'm gonna be better made, I'm gonna give everything, Just to bring me back again. I'm gonna be a braver soul than this, I'm gonna jump at all those many chances that I've missed, I'm gonna live my life beyond these fears and forms of cowardice that keep leading me on. I'm gonna shine out like a beacon in the night, I'm gonna wrap my fingers round the stars tonight, 'Cause I'm taking it on, 'cause I'm taking it on... I can't keep hiding, I can't keep hiding, I can't keep running away So I'm gonna be stronger, I'm gonna be better made, I'm gonna give everything, Just to bring me back again. So I'm gonna be stronger, I'm gonna be understood and I'm gonna give everything Just to bring me back again <p /> So I'm gonna be stronger and I'm gonna be better made, I'm gonna give everything, Just to bring me back again... 'Cause I can't keep hiding, I can't keep hiding, I can't keep running away. <p /> contra omnia discrimina <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/music-video-lyrics-tom-baxter-my-declaration">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-6270306157245639679?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-48602365048781670092011-01-02T17:09:00.001Z2011-01-02T17:09:21.512Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><p>Recently, Apple released a new version of the iBooks store, complete with a new icon and revised app graphics. I've been looking for a wallpaper based on the latest iBooks Store bookshelves for my lockscreen, but nothing I found online was quite right. So I spent a couple of hours playing around and designed one myself from scratch. The graphics were ported straight from the latest iBooks app file - I then manipulated and redesigned the layout in Photoshop CS5 to make it suitable for the iPhone 4 lockscreen. Click the image below to download the high resolution wallpaper:<br /><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/temp-2011-01-02/uqiAyhgbucqJtgvagsbzHttqhkctDBnGoxaJrjzDdAuDCyrfqFDoardfklIh/DefaultiBooks2xv4.png.scaled1000.png'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/temp-2011-01-02/uqiAyhgbucqJtgvagsbzHttqhkctDBnGoxaJrjzDdAuDCyrfqFDoardfklIh/DefaultiBooks2xv4.png.scaled500.png" width="500" height="750"/></a> <br />I hope you like it - If you use this yourself, please leave a comment below and say thanks! Finally, please do not repost this anywhere else online or attmpt to pass it off as your own. Thanks. <p />contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/free-download-iphone-4-high-resoloution-ibook">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-4860236504878167009?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-20214039807459785012011-01-01T18:46:00.001Z2011-01-01T18:46:24.421Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><p> <div style='padding: 5px 5px 10px 5px; margin-top: 5px; border: 1px solid #ddd; background-color: #fff;line-height: 16px;'> <div style="float: left; margin-right: 5px; overflow: visible;"><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/temp-2011-01-01/atscInGkvypvAbqBhECcepxdGHEyExDjnElgFxokhhAsdtCmtIAIqEtmtInc/01_Firework.m4v' style='color: #bc7134;'><img src='http://posterous.com/images/filetypes/unknown.png' style='border: none;'/></a></div> <div style="font-size: 10px; color: #424037;line-height: 16px;">Download now or <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/video-lyrics-firework-by-katy-perry-official" style="color: #bc7134">watch on posterous</a></div> <b><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/temp-2011-01-01/atscInGkvypvAbqBhECcepxdGHEyExDjnElgFxokhhAsdtCmtIAIqEtmtInc/01_Firework.m4v' style='color: #bc7134;'>01_Firework.m4v</a></b> <span style="font-size: 10px; color: #424037;">(50037 KB)</span> <br style="clear: both;"/></div> Do you ever feel like a plastic bag<br />Drifting through the wind<br />Wanting to start again</p> <div> <div>Do you ever feel, feel so paper thin<br />Like a house of cards<br />One blow from caving in<p />Do you ever feel already buried deep<br />Six feet under scream<br />But no one seems to hear a thing<p />Do you know that there's still a chance for you<br />Cause there's a spark in you<p />You just gotta ignite the light<br />And let it shine<br />Just own the night<br />Like the Fourth of July<p />Cause baby you're a firework<br />Come on show 'em what your worth<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />As you shoot across the sky-y-y<p />Baby you're a firework<br />Come on let your colours burst<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down-down-down<p />You don't have to feel like a waste of space<br />You're original, cannot be replaced<br />If you only knew what the future holds<br />After a hurricane comes a rainbow<p />Maybe you're reason why all the doors are closed<br />So you can open one that leads you to the perfect road<br />Like a lightning bolt, your heart will blow<br />And when it's time, you'll know<p />You just gotta ignite the light<br />And let it shine<br />Just own the night<br />Like the Fourth of July<p />Cause baby you're a firework<br />Come on show 'em what your worth<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />As you shoot across the sky-y-y<p />Baby you're a firework<br />Come on let your colours burst<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />You're gonna leave 'em fallin' down-down-down<p />Boom, boom, boom<br />Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon<br />It's always been inside of you, you, you<br />And now it's time to let it through<p />Cause baby you're a firework<br />Come on show 'em what your worth<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />As you shoot across the sky-y-y<p />Baby you're a firework<br />Come on let your colours burst<br />Make 'em go "Oh, oh, oh!"<br />You're gonna leave 'em goin' "Oh, oh, oh!"<p />Boom, boom, boom<br />Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon<br />Boom, boom, boom<br />Even brighter than the moon, moon, moon</div> <div><br />Copyright 2010-2011 &copy; Katy Perry and Capitol Records LLC.</div> <div><br /> <div>contra omnia discrimina</div> </div> </div> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/video-lyrics-firework-by-katy-perry-official">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-2021403980745978501?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-4976809997226327792010-12-30T20:52:00.001Z2010-12-30T20:52:08.147Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/rXpt4za3P7Mu26b2RSFCohbRYLONBPCoHuEZu5AIUAxPfuCyFNG7SFfIN3BB/image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/S3rr1U7X2Oee1W66cEh1bxDm9BCp0JYA9aZ4XokunaeuUh3lTYy4Ilsxa6Yh/image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="221"/></a> <p><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/Nc1GgVoBR63ce8Bcolq7FjCulYak2qi89t6wk46bTsbPAUMiS9fHynBnpXcE/0image.jpeg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/LWOvdFYBWDPNWs22BTXYGX3sJu06Ur07gLrRkg48I89q0QNMgkmPNzlL776A/0image.jpeg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="397"/></a> </p><p>contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-gold-train-ticket-from-the-polar-express">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-497680999722632779?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36884914.post-18531636576285729112010-12-30T20:38:00.001Z2010-12-30T20:38:44.886Z<div class='posterous_autopost'><a href='http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/iXkYhXBWeriqRd3yJvYOcGlCF2mQxxd1QkykHaKsuxdHCWV2vqCDyeOxRhUF/photo_2.jpg.scaled.1000.jpg'><img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/pFonGbrcUdyIEPkLDfJ3kKFk65lEb0PqarLjf4PziK97APqu5yXyeJMK17IC/photo_2.jpg.scaled.500.jpg" width="500" height="221"/></a> <img src="http://posterous.com/getfile/files.posterous.com/uselessdesires/gbMWrmjgD7NA341NkZP4SHihSaTLmKZ21k8rasitb0cWPzseGS4UVoGSv2J0/image.png" width="142" height="114"/> <div><a href='http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-gold-train-ticket-from-the-polar-express'>See and download the full gallery on posterous</a></div><p>contra omnia discrimina</p> <p style="font-size: 10px;"> <a href="http://posterous.com">Posted via email</a> from <a href="http://www.uselessdesires.co.uk/the-gold-train-ticket-from-the-polar-express">uselessdesires</a> </p> </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/36884914-1853163657628572911?l=uselessdesires.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Ryan, the author...http://www.blogger.com/profile/01159299319703219307noreply@blogger.com