I defend my use of the word, "profound", thusly. To paraphrase Clarke's third law (Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic): any sufficiently obscure (to me) literary reference is indistinguishable from profundity. Or, could it be that the writer is using big words or obscure references to give the impression of profundity?
To be sure, I am NOT missing the fun in the pontifications. I enjoy being taken to the death of Julian or the wisdom of Faulkner. But if my looking for knowledge, wisdom or profundity in those writings is missing the point, then I admit to missing that point. But I do take it all assuming your tongue is firmly planted in your cheek.
I am an engineer (not the toot, toot kind) and my education is straight edged with only a slight amount of rounding. Recognizing my lack of literary (and other) knowledge I may be accurately accused of being too aggressive in my enthusiasm when pursuing those areas of human knowledge that are not already resident in my brain. So, yes, I may indeed assign a higher value to your prose than you think appropriate. But in there amongst the fun stuff there IS knowledge and profundity - at least from where I currently stand and look at our universe. Possibly from your vantage point your words and the thoughts they convey have a very different importance.
Statistics: Posted by drac — 2015 Apr 01, 20:55
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Statistics: Posted by sanferno — 2015 Apr 01, 15:01
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Statistics: Posted by FrizzleFry — 2015 Apr 01, 14:20
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Didn't quite understand your thought on "email"
To "bellow" in English means to beat your chest with your fists and yell really loud to scare the enemy (or your wife). Imagine getting this sort of thing every time someone sends you an email. 
(You'd begin to appreciate how Nikos feels when doing customer-care sessions!)Statistics: Posted by Kilmatead — 2015 Apr 01, 12:59
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I'll have a glance at the other pages this evening
Thank you very much, most important are the four main ones. I'll pay you a bottle of cider the next time you come to Spain. Actually I live in "Asturias", a northern region with celtic culture... (not very typical spanish). http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AsturiasI know, I'll take a look. After finishing my PhD, happiness could have taken my ego a little bit over the limitthat Pride is a sin
, but I think it won't hurt anybody 
Didn't quite understand your thought on "email", but I've a few changes that hope will improve the sentence.
Once again, thanks!
Statistics: Posted by sanferno — 2015 Apr 01, 12:52
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Anyway - grammatically speaking - at the end of the third paragraph on the Home page where it says:
I'd probably change to read:The good quality of all of them can be seen in many of my papers and books, been its careful layout a personal seal of my work.
Or something to that degree - your original sentence doesn't really work, so I just changed the flavour to match the rest. Remember though, that Pride is a sin, so it might come back to haunt you. That's a dangerous cliff to jump off of.The quality of which may be seen amongst my many papers and books, their careful layout being something I view as a personal seal of my work.
Also, at the bottom where it says "use the e-mail address bellow", I find I rather like that one as it is, but you probably should either correct it the boring way and say "below" or just suggest that the reader actually bellow really really loud and you might just hear him, since email is so last-century.
I'll have a glance at the other pages this evening - there's only so much of my lunch-hour I'll sacrifice for you over-educated continental-types.
(And earlier in this thread where you said some things "could be sometimes difficult to understand for non-native english speakers"... that now sounds a little weird from the same guy who uses words like "interoperate"! As they used to say to us along the Mexican border before guns became the answer to the smallest insult, "You loco, dude.")
Statistics: Posted by Kilmatead — 2015 Apr 01, 12:25
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If you're interested in Geography or cartography, you could take a look to my webpage: http://gistools.es/en/index.php
(If you see some grammatical error, please tell me
)Actually user commands are for being able to interoperate with geographic information, data bases, and stuff like that...
Statistics: Posted by sanferno — 2015 Apr 01, 11:15
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Statistics: Posted by Kilmatead — 2015 Apr 01, 09:32
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Statistics: Posted by namsupo — 2015 Apr 01, 08:25
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...the kind of book I had always wanted to read and never dared to ask…
And never ever trade the romance of that for the reality of a trot to Ringsend these days - the breadth of it isn't near as fine as the fancies past. 
Faulkner - now there's a memory. Many years ago in Black Mountain North Carolina we were sitting around the studio of an artist who would paint nothing but huge canvases of tornadoes. Dramatic dizzying things of blood never less than 15-foot by height. Over the length of a couple of bottles of the South's worst brine we slung Faulkner quotes back and forth at each other in anticipation of a drunken Sturm and Drang, shouting the name of that American Proust at the vastness of the Milky Way above.
Not a lie, that. I'm a city boy (well, a boy of many cities), and had never seen the Milky Way before. It's one of the few things (like the doom of love at first sight) that actually causes physical pain just upon peering into the sheen. We walked outside to piss the lake full across the railings of the cabin, and looked... up. I wet myself.
Books are like that too - for me it was the desperation of Camus' La Chute balanced with the fear of D. Trumbo's Johnny Got His Gun - and lord did the consciousness stream then.A rare evening. And one I'd rather forget if it wasn't so damn piquant - for a city boy. God, I hate North Carolina. Never been back since.
Statistics: Posted by Kilmatead — 2015 Mar 31, 21:47
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Statistics: Posted by Robert2 — 2015 Mar 31, 21:04
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I know they are saying something...
Profound? I think not. De Profundis is one of those seriously overused phrases which imposes itself more upon the vanity of the listener than the probity of the source itself. We silly humans love to keen within depths of the lesser-known, and embrace the emptiness of our own shame when there is nothing else to hold on to. Ironically it's precisely that which makes us so disposable, like the man who loses sight of the shore and cares not for the wind at hand, though he be its very servant.Profundity is easy to fake - it's the first thing you learn in bogus creative writing classes from people who know the mien of the craft yet don't understand one whit of what it's actually good for... "Write about what you know," they'll pontificate, "write from within." Well, I think not. Follow the screaming from Byron to Botticelli, Bacon to Boismortier, no matter which way you spin them you're only at the beginning of the alphabet with no end of the cacophony in sight. Would that we trade that vanity for our pride, that humility for our purpose - use the simple rhythmic intermingling iterations of people's slight grasp of their own emotions and cage it within a context of clever wordsmithing - yea, we begin to see the party of the lie.
This stuff is not profound, dude, it's fun. It's a cruel form of entertainment where the writer begs to be slain by his own pen - yet that's what they all do, day after day, hour after hour, transmuting syncopations into psychopathy using a medium of poor human linguistics. It's well know that the last bit of profundity-in-the-making died on June 26, 363 AD, in Samarra, Iraq. This century (and the last) never had a hope of producing even a glimmer of the like to swagger amongst our befuddled midst. That we should like the calendrical play on words only permits the poverty of the profound itself; it does not permit us the genius to proclaim anything but our own shallowness - and to suffer the public doubts of a heresy therein.
See? He gets it: paraphrasing Blade Runner to counter the mate and bane of Shakespeare! What more is there to say?Lost in time, like tears in the rain...
Yeah, and no one ever finished his nonsensical ramblings either! Everyone started reading that horrid tome of a mad streetmap, but find me one man in Dublin who ever finished it, and I'll show you the lie and spirit of a land so lost up its own myth that a drink proclaimed be a drink declaimed, and nothing but its own relief.An obvious connection…
(How funny that is depends on how far you got into the book before abandoning it for a chill bay breeze and a plate of toasted soldiers. Or something like that... I'll be the first to admit that my heart was unprepared for just how beautiful severity itself could be, and she crushed me poor soul about near 10-pound lighter than the shilling I paid to sight her in the first place.)Statistics: Posted by Kilmatead — 2015 Mar 31, 20:35
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where would Western languages be without his flights of fancy?
Lost in time, like tears in the rain... but it's not time to die already yet! 
Statistics: Posted by sanferno — 2015 Mar 31, 19:49
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