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mp3 / 224kbps /

CD1-90MB
CD2-99MB
CD3-93MB

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TOM JONES - What A Night (1979)


Label: EMI Records Ltd.
Catalog#: C 062 60267
Format: Vinyl, LP, Album
Country: UK
Genre: Pop, Rock
mp3 / 320kbps / 77,79mb
1. What a Night
2. We Don't Live Here
3. No One Gave Me Love
4. Day to Day Affair
5. If This Is Love
6. I Wrote This Song
7. That's Where I Belong
8. Easy to Love
9. The Heart
10. Ramblin' Man
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Gaddafi Kadhafou?

Megalomania, despotism, tyranny, Nazism, one-party, authoritarian rule, militarism, dictatorship, directivity, omnipotence, oppression, satrapy. This list defines pretty much what I think of Colonel Gaddafi.

Is there a tiny gerbil which erodes Jarnigoine without his knowledge in his funny Bonichon?

It seems completely disconnected from the reality of his people, while being welded to his own desires. Why let his entourage he slaughtered his fellow citizens? Why does the army protects Does not the people?

Decidedly, there is something that I do not understand.

Lo x

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A bill moved to all those who have followed my little fancy minor poems : Koka has already said in his blog how much she was touched by your signs of friendship, but I wanted me also thank you for trusting us (not easy to give his address and his "real" name) and have played the game with as much simplicity.

If you missed the proposal, please go read the article entitled Free , and as Never too late to do send me your address by mail : I post again tomorrow morning for two books of "late".

PS I did follow all your mails Koka indulgent ... some of these maps are signs of you ... about the crunchy, um, sorry, there no longer! We are sorry for the bad quality of binding, but the printer should not be the best in the township!

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- Earlier this afternoon, she went into the backyard to sit in the swings, occupied by ladies like it , seniors, singles, who live in small house all white, always clean and quiet. Overall, in the shade, they cradled their lives quietly ending. Their old age takes a break. Céline Cyr

- The problem with the obligation to find a job is that every morning upon waking, you are already at work. Robert Brisebois

- That will be a childish joys of private life in the early years? Some human beings are never young, and remain throughout their lives as they are born. They live in an absolutely colorless. They wither. They never know love and they do not ever feel the desire. These are pots of flowers in which no soul has been planted. But every human soul growing normally begins with a childhood alive. HG Wells

- Man does not live by bread alone, he must give those used to a salary and an ideal. But the first man eats bread ; must not forget the salary on the pretext that provides the ideal. OL Barenton

- Do not let your staff do spend their time reporting on things he could have done had he not been obliged to report. OL Barenton

Lo x

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PREJUDICE TO THE BREAD

Solution lifes in oysters: the first cut is made, starting from the left an Abraham Mignon, a Peter Claesz, a painting of Ensor and buffet with oysters and a dog Chardin. On the other assembly, top left, a Fouace beside a Manet, below a work of Caillebotte and finally a de Heem Davidz

"The surface of the bread is wonderful because of that first impression it gives panoramic quasi: as if we had available to hand the Alps, the Taurus or the Andes. Thus an amorphous mass now belch was slipped to us in the stellar furnace, where hardening it was shaped by valleys, ridges, undulations, cracks ... And all these plans when so clearly articulated these thin slabs where light his fire with application layer - without looking at the underlying softness despicable. This cowardly and cold basement known as the crumb has a fabric similar to that of sponges: leaves or flowers are like Siamese twins welded elbows all at once. When the bread sat the flowers fade and shrink: they become detached from each other, and the mass becomes crumbly ... But let it: For the bread in our mouths should be subject to less respect than consumption. "

Francis Ponge, Le Parti-pris des choses, 1942, p 39 Gallimard.

I am an inveterate consumer of bread ... Impervious to dietary patterns that have the most insane war boom over the past about it, I devour massive amounts, may not consider under any pretext whatsoever to do without. Matter of taste? Matter of education may also ... "Eat no bread" was seen at home as an attitude repugnant, even despicable, food "Nude" being described as a sort of obscene luxury and therefore objectionable. Respect for the bread, of course linked to Christianity, was also associated with its precious character as food essential for survival and not always accessible to all. It added a rejection of all these weird patterns in the early 60s, began to outlaw its consumption on the grounds that "it was swell. My parents reported, sententious reasonable but "there has to eat less meat." Their meaning was imposed economic finally makes sense. Because "we do not throw the bread," I kept the habit of piling croutons that end, according to the times in soup for the dog, chicken pie for the stepmother of Madeleine, or bait for ducks plump port!

I bought every day, returning from school, "Roll 700" which had replaced in my suburb of Bordeaux, standardization nascent forces, the heavy bread that practiced Alter always at the same time in the Lot. I did not keep this bread is still called here "the bread of 2", a special remembrance. For cons, the taste of bread rolls accompanied by days, a chocolate bar, a paste of fruit or an apple, and that was my birthday resident, remained alive. A surprising taste of luxury for the little white bread, a form for me, unusual.

in restaurants is my passion bread poses the most problems, as it is fashionable to serve vegetables to the unit, even when it comes to peas (!), The Bread is also known that in reverse snobbery that wants you present with power tongs few crumbs pretty, decorated with lots of additives, which falsify the flavor, and deprive it of its essential function of enhancer taste. For it is clear that he does not accompany our meals to offset the cravings of a poverty that Western countries have long forgotten. We eat to satiety and the bread is here to, its benevolent neutrality, breathe the scent of food that escort.

I do not like the description given by Ponge, which does not mention my personal, less geologically less seismic. Fermentation, the soft side of the dough before and after delicate crumb, I do not deserve pejorative terms as qu'amorphe, ignoble or belch. Like the bread for its simplicity and this approach disgusts me a little.

Devouring unrepented pies, baguettes and other rings, I love "Not overcooked please". Its smell of baking when you're lucky enough to find it again, I plunged into a valley of small but frisky fun. I appreciate the luxury of breads and rolls ordinary tastes fancy and tradition. I taste bread or strangers what takes place, just for the pleasure of finding the crunchy baguette into returning. Whatever I cook sometimes has a consistency scale that delighted me too. Like much that the crumb crust and that of "grandmother's Bakehouse" which my daily, cooked over a wood fire and dusted with an elegant veil of brown flour that sticks to clothes when we 'return bread "makes perfect my happiness.

But you, do you tend bar or sandwich instead? Rather loaf or string? Homemade bread what happens? It may just be you do not like the bread ...

Seasonings a luncheon, which was acquired by the Museum of Lille in 1990, is a canvas that lies another: the radiograph made at the time of its acquisition (see below), reveals that Chardin had staged slightly different than the last layer of paint shows.
Within a stone niche, a bottle of red wine half full marks the center of the composition, grouped in the lower third of the canvas. On a pewter plate, a slice of ham, appetizing but stingy. Hanging all the light that bathes, traditionally the table by the left, a silver cup gives an overall impression of luxury without affectation. And behind, riding on the flat and broke boldly without using the horn-handled knife which remains planted, a loaf of bread that would almost think our modern chopsticks.
few crumbs add depth to the stage and impress him a slight disorder which disrupts the carefully constructed and formal aspect of the whole. This rustic knife, inserted into the crust while it was customary to bless the bread before cutting, or otherwise avoid slicing into the break, which is the case here, moreover, is completely paradoxical : it is breaking the balance of the composition, making it asymmetrical, and propels our eyes yet attracted by the brightness of the cup, back, at a point inaccessible to the viewer.

radiography primers for lunch: the game of the day?? What do you see different about this radio refpect to the final painting?

* And why not, again, a comment made text Ponge?

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Potato and stump ...

A good exercise for the heart and legs open a snowshoe trail in a foot of freshly fallen snow. That's what I did today.

Tonight I have the stump like rubber bands, my potatoes (my heart) beats to slow and I have as much energy as an old cloth.

I was well in the forest. The wind was stirring the trees with such force that they drenched me coir cotton content of their branches throughout the hike, it was magical.

Lo x

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Planting of two formal ...

Yesterday, the headlines of almost all the newspapers announced the end of the legal war between Marc Bellemare and Jean Charest .

The squabble between these two characters we have at the lowest cost six million dollars (Bastarache circus).

Grrrrrrrr! Just thinking that we could buy equipment such as a hospital or school.

That money from my taxes are used to resolve different between these egocentric beings, it disgusts me ...

might as well pay, I pay trafficking: To you, Mr. Charest and Mr. Bellemare, I say: So eat of the schnoutte !

Lo x

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THE PREJUDICE OF THE OPENING OF CIRCUMSTANCES

Ponge's go to ... object lessons and fables, writing project us in a dusty attic where we rediscover forgotten objects, with whom he played for us in providing a description of poetic and humorous. A trifle provocative, he works on the meaning, on the sounds or just the shape of things. I followed these wanderings lexical and offers some memory exercises on selected texts j'égrènerai for you over the days.

Ponge A text, a few personal memories linked to objest mentioned, your participation in comments if you wish, then a getaway pictorial and, ultimately, to serious, a link to a comment "literary "text! So much for the days ahead ...

At Bordeaux, with the inevitable caul ... and especially without lemon or vinegar ... as at the seaside!

oysters, the size of a roller means is a rougher appearance, color, less cohesive, brilliantly white. It is a world stubbornly closed. Yet it can be opened: it is then necessary to keep the hollow of a cloth, use a knife and chipped bit frank, try several times. Curious fingers cut it, break it nails: this is a rough work. The blows that he is marking his pea jacket, a sort of halo.

Inside found a whole world, to drink and eat in a firmament (strictly speaking) mother of pearl, the skies above to collapse on the heavens from below, never to form a pond a viscous, greenish bag, which flows and ebbs with the smell and sight, fringed with black lace around the edges.

Sometimes a formula very rare pearl nacre of their throats, which is found immediately to adorn.

F. Ponge, Le Parti pris des choses, 1942

Ponge, obviously, could not open the oysters. First, he took a towel ... me too I take a cloth, and yet I think I know how to open oysters. But Alter tells you that it is unworthy of a patented chip. Whenever I see his hands "valuable" as a professional point of view as to handle the keyboard, playing a small sharp knife that slips into a popping noise sometimes, and I sigh il occupy their minds elsewhere.
Then, if you read the details in the description of the cut made by the writer in the shell, you will easily recognize a slaughterer of oysters. As for his painting of a mollusk, it is highly ambiguous and description is not likely to want to eat the bivalve, swallowed alive, to those he rejects. Instead, they include all the details that discourage the lukewarm: the consistency, smell, and even the color, overwhelming for those who do not fall within very small.

Because there are really two types of consumers of oysters (excluding of course those who do not want or can not hear, as is strong distaste at the idea of eating a living creature): there are those who try, because it is deemed a delicacy, and even highly prized and praised by the classic culinary patterns that make a food festival, and even luxury. They bravely overcome their lack of appetite, shred to loosen the shell, cut them before long chew, swallow or prefer as soon as possible to forget that this viscosity Ponge emphasizes efficiency. They are always ready to give generously of their late dozen, "'s Cool, they say, but I prefer to keep a bit of appetite for more."
As if eating oysters had never cut anyone's appetite. Instead, it opens it, drink it that little thing that eats green and pearly like a piece of sea, both frustrated and noble. Because there are also lovers, the meaning of the word, they like! They are able to swallow dozens, they look fatter, larger. They do not hesitate to swallow in the breakfast you laugh without saying that there is nothing like the stomach to get back upright, the aftermath of feasts too watered. I know I am ... and the funny thing is that Alter, child of the center of our beautiful country and who did not eat before you meet me, started with the zeal of converts, to love them more than me! Without doubt his desire to be as "ego" that "alter". The fact is that when I was known, his first concern was to learn from my father how they were opened. I attended the lecture course, which enabled me, in my turn, teach the mother the day, a widow, she sat crying in front of his dozen oysters lying on the sink , saying between sobs that it was not a question of being deterred by these barbarous shells.

The photos are slightly blurry because the usher directed me not to take in action, I So you played for the paparazzi!

For once, it was a working man to open oysters. I know some have now taken the knife (especially oysters not, I repeat, a small kitchen knife is chipped by years alone, the case) or the duster (reassure me it's right not even a crime!), and before the tasting.

to you to tell me if any feminist you are, you can do this small gesture of the wrist that allows, without anyone's help to have access to the wonders ocean that hides the roller Ponge .

And finally, the little game of the day: the oyster has always inspired artists who like to make it appear on their lifes. In the above arrangements, you have a real museum kitchen, but only one canvas is de Chardin? Which do you think?


* If comment text Ponge interests you, feel free to click, but school is exciting! To make you regret the time of the French vat!