Lola at the Coffee House, Cafe 101

Mountains are just heaps of dirt Eidee.

They are rucked up by tectonic shifts in the plates which are supposed to constitute the surface of the earth. We will have to get the farmer man in to explain it. He's a geologist and knows all about such things.

We need a motto. How about "if you don't want to die you have to be hip enough to be square".

You can see the effect if you push the vacuum when it gets stuck in the pile.

Now you're just clowning around like those scholars in Universities claiming that they're bothersome and too smart for their own good. But I understand your case, and how fun it is to write that behind a sturdy wooden desk, clickety clacking away at your key board. Now that you mention it, taken at a surface value, anything can be depreciated and taken to futility. Or you can go in the other direction to have some chat about how mountains are death traps, especially under snowy conditions.
Then there are man made death traps, for Ossobuco's inquiry. The avatar picture is from a trip to the Bavarian Alps, which was a smooth trip, but east germany was what gave us trouble. Tried freestyling through the rural hills, with randomly occupancy of picket fences and all sorts of man made obstacles, hidden underneath the snow, not put up by us. Farmers, I tell ya! And that's all after waiting a week hoping for the temperature to warm a bit above freezing, cause no one likes uneven layers of dry snow on the surface, it easily breaks the momentum. Other downside was that ramp making becomes more arduous, and a week's wait was futile, because the snow was still dry. Our time at east Germany wasn't fun as Austria or the Bavarian alps for that matter. But experiencing the culture around Dresden was fun. I am not architecturally savvy, but I remember seeing interesting looking historical buildings and structures. I can't complain about the food and alcoholic beverages, either.

Tim Duke of Gloucester, brother of King George III, permitted Mr. Gibbon to present to him the first volume of The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. When the second volume of that work appeared, it was quite in order that it should be presented to His Royal Highness in like manner. The prince received the author with much good nature and affability, saying to him, as he laid the quarto on the table,

"Another damn'd thick, square book! Always, scribble, scribble, scribble! Eh! Mr. Gibbon?"

Ever heard of Tim Duke of Gloucester before Ayedee?



The ladies could always be relied upon to provide experiences of that nature.

Prince William Henry was the Duke of Gloucester and Edinburgh in 1781 ... and the brother of George III. Who's Tim Duke?

I don't know. I'm just clowning around. What are you doing?

I know who Mr Gibbon was as do millions more with many to come. His book is well worth the trouble for the drolleries alone.

Reading Gibbon's Rise and Fall for laughs? I must confess that hadn't occurred to me.

Have I mentioned that I'm reading Pride and Prejudice at the moment? I'm enjoying it much more than I thought I would, choc-full as it is of illuminating apercus and bons mots.

I would rather swim the distance of ten meters in a frigid pond during a blizzard with nothing but my underwear than try to read Pride and Prejudice a second time. That's how much I loathe that book.

This must be the first time I've ever heard anyone brag about having a piss-poor taste in literature. Interesting.

A person not turned on by the stories of Jane Austen has piss poor taste in literature. Excellent observation. </sarcasm>

She was rather narrow from a literary perspective but is hard not to be. She was quite amusing I remember. I would have enjoyed getting her chattering like a lemur monkey.

She was nothing more than the original chick-literature author parodying the frivolous world she lived and experienced.
Not that they are comparable, but I prefer the less mellow and much darker worlds of the Bronte sisters.

Certainly Emile. I'm in love with Emily Bronte. I have sat upon the couch on which she died. I wasn't supposed to. It was roped off. I waited for the curator's attention to be distracted and and stepped over the rope.

I could have saved her. I have sat at the bar in the Black Bull where Branwell sat. Going up the cobbles to the Parsonage after a few pints is convincing evidence that he did arrive home black and blue. And I was in the daylight.

One of my book-cases has nothing else in it but Bronte stuff. I understand why the civilised world is fascinated by the family. But Emily is the key.

"He comes with western winds, with evening's wandering airs,
With that clear dusk of heaven that brings the thickest stars;
Winds take a pensive tone and stars a tender fire
And visions rise and change which kill me with desire."

Oh man!!!

I walked the moors where she walked. I have stood silent before her tomb.

"No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heaven's glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from Fear. "

My man, great minds think alike
If I was provided a time machine and had the option to meet one author in history, it'd be Emily Bronte.

Do you know the description, I forget who by, of her lying on the bank of a pool in a stream dangling her hand in the water and watching the minnows swimming in an out of her fingers. All afternoon.

I can imagine her snorting if she had heard Darwin unveil the results of his scientific quest. Fancy abandoning those Shropshire girls for five years to be cooped up with Fitzroy on a jerking boat.

I'm not aware of that depiction, but it sounds interesting. Do tell from who by if you remember.
I think Darwin and E B would make an interesting conversation to eavesdrop. To what conclusion they'd reach would be a greater interest to me.
Darwin's theory might as well be easily tied to W Heights.

I would like to see an explanation of that.

For example, Cat's emotions seen from the aspect of the the rawest form of animalistic attributes regarding sexual selection correlates with Darwin's theory of sexual selection, where in some species, females chooses the mate and impulses manifest themselves naturally. But society has a grip and class conflict is what the obstacle that must be faced in the end before making a choice. In the general conflict between nature and man, shown are facets of what Darwin was going on about.
I'll let you finish for me, you really,really well evolved microbe.

I see WH as a feverish expression of sexual inhibition.

The Darwinian attraction of Catherine to Heathcliff is over-ruled by the attraction to position and hoped for security. I think it likely that Emily had felt such an attraction to a man she couldn't accept for social reasons.

I can't remember where the story of the minnows comes from. Probably Gerin.

I think a few weeks with Edgar Allan Poe and Herman Melville would be a hoot!