The art of whiling away time when surrounded by a foreign language. What we read when free to choose and think no-one will see. With an account of one of the places where we do it.
I am the Trash Librarian, once dilatory but always aware of my duties to preserve and acquire. Scavengers have taken and destroyed in the past but what I found here is still here. And since I came everyone who arrives with books must leave them on departure.
Over the years there has been good nature and at times great generosity in the leaving of the books. There has been wit, illumination, excitement and surprise in both the books and their leavers (as well as occasional shame-facedness).
No book is turned away, or locked away, though some are shelved separately as representations too scary or too violent for the unwary, reading perhaps alone, or in a lonely room of the house.
Diligent now in my Librarianship, as blogging permits, indeed invites, contributions from virtual visitors, I thought there might be interest in the Library, and in the world in which it is set.
Someone has staked Slobodan Milosevic. The wannabe Slayer then reported himself to the local police who refused to do anything about it all. Not being a girl militated against his claim to be the Chosen One.
Impaling is no good, not good enough with major vampires. Dracula the Impaler's tomb contains only his body, the head was buried a long way away to stop it for rejoining the body and allow the undead to revive.
Restless Dracula's resting place is in a small island near Bucharest whose name escapes me, appropriatedly close to one of the many villas built by Ceaucescu the Impaler for his own exclusive use, and where he appropriately fled on the way to be impaled in January 1990.
I once visited this villa and Dracula's tomb. The villa had a gym with all kind of sports equipment, including a set of weights for weightlifting. The guide explained that the weights were actually much lighter than the weight imprinted on them, to please and delude the dictator. They did that to weights, imagine what they did with statistics.
It's puzzled me often why there is such irritation with statistcal faking. If they're faked people live the truth and realise, so what's statistical about lying with numbers and trends? Lies are lies are lies, their particular formulation is irrelevant.
Unwillingness to pay the cyclops of the manse his outrageous tax demands meant everything was taken beyond his reach but it wasn't statistics that drove the decision, it 's reality. Perhaps statisitics are used to frighten off people's intuitive identification of a lie, and that's why they get it in the neck.
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Impaling is no good, not good enough with major vampires. Dracula the Impaler's tomb contains only his body, the head was buried a long way away to stop it for rejoining the body and allow the undead to revive.
Restless Dracula's resting place is in a small island near Bucharest whose name escapes me, appropriatedly close to one of the many villas built by Ceaucescu the Impaler for his own exclusive use, and where he appropriately fled on the way to be impaled in January 1990.
I once visited this villa and Dracula's tomb. The villa had a gym with all kind of sports equipment, including a set of weights for weightlifting. The guide explained that the weights were actually much lighter than the weight imprinted on them, to please and delude the dictator.
They did that to weights, imagine what they did with statistics.
It's puzzled me often why there is such irritation with statistcal faking. If they're faked people live the truth and realise, so what's statistical about lying with numbers and trends? Lies are lies are lies, their particular formulation is irrelevant.
Unwillingness to pay the cyclops of the manse his outrageous tax demands meant everything was taken beyond his reach but it wasn't statistics that drove the decision, it 's reality. Perhaps statisitics are used to frighten off people's intuitive identification of a lie, and that's why they get it in the neck.
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