[ot] [!nt] \n2+0\

[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

>>thus currently preoccupied with technical solutions to the digital murder
>>routine [with one exception it does not entail max objekts]
>>as the murderers lack m9nd aktivity receptors. rendering
>>this partikular life form ultra fragile -> despair.


two loves i have of comfort and despair,
which like two spirits do suggest me still:


>well, don't allow the humans who aren't responsive to dictate your
>activities.  so much playing into the trap someone has set is like the
>treadmill...you will never finish.  you will not sway murtagh in the time
>you could be accomplishing/implementing new ideas for creative activities.
>it is beside the point but please consider sharing the accumulated
>knowledge with those who share your personal~political views and not those
>who know max/max-listserv-social issues but not those of the human nature.
>something to consider.  computing/max/etc and humanitarianism are not
>mutually exclusive, despite the loud protestations of a few.
>certaily not a suggestion to abandon your battles with the mcgill types of
>the world but only to remind you that one (the work) does not happen
>without the other (the living) and I dont mean 'living' in a worker sense.
>je t'embrasse amicalement...
>do not be defeated in your aspirations.

thine eyes i love, and they, as pitying me,
knowing thy heart torments me with disdain,
have put on black and loving mourners be,
looking with pretty ruth upon my pain.
and truly not the morning sun of heaven
better becomes the grey cheeks of the east,
nor that full star that ushers in the even
doth half that glory to the sober west,
as those two mourning eyes become thy face:
o, let it then as well beseem thy heart
to mourn for me, since mourning doth thee grace,
and suit thy pity like in every part.
then will i swear beauty herself is black
and all they foul that thy complexion lack.

ophelia the innocent flower of may
turned mad by the rottenness and corruption alive in the court 
a pawn in the game of chess that was denmark? 

unweeded garden of elsinor one rose grows silently. 
sweetly admiring and worshipping the surroundings that help her grow. 
a beautiful harmless flower we fail to find fault with. 
among the court of weeds only her perfection shines through. 
but she has thorns. appearances are deceiving. the reason our rose survives in this garden 
is because she has learnt how to. she has grown thorns to protect herself
from the other thistles. ophelia is this rose. 

the decision is yours...
our fair ophelia gains an instant and binding rapport with our listeners 
from the minute we see her.
the women empathise with the brutality of her existence.
the men fall in love with her.
our 'en je neu' tragically dies and leaves us like many of the court 
full of questions without hope of an answer. when alive
she possessed her fathers skill of literacy protection and in death 
the protection remains. 

many people in this play were "de-flowerers" 
taking the innocence and beauty away petal by petal 
ophelia was a "flower- giver" dislodging so much of her
virtues until she was unsure of herself until there was 
no buds left to prove she deserved to be saved.

and so she was plucked from the earth with the other
weeds tossed into the river as she tried to pick long purples.
ophelia was both good and evil for she was human. 
nothing more nothing less. a combination of nobility & naiveity. 

she was abused and learnt from this eventually. 
unfortunately her lesson was too late. 
one point will remain certain you love her from
the beginning and continue to at the end.
"the rest is silence."


nn