From 31.10.- 1.11.2008 i visit the dungeon of OWK in Czech Republic! I give all masochists und slaves the chance to come with me. This will become an unforgettable experience with security also for you! Feel free to contact me for question. Last chance for the registration is 30.09.2008. For registration visit: http://www.sm-alexa.com/owk.htm
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Exterior
Banquetthall
Elisabeth Bathory
maids room
Thronhall
Thronhall
Entrance
Ridinghall
Others
Others
Others
Tango is a practice already ready for struggle. It knows about taking sides, positions, risks. It has the experience of domination/resistance from within. Tango, stretching the colonized stereotypes of the latino-macho-Catholic fatalism, is a language of decolonization. So, pick and choose. Improvise. Hide away. Run after them. Stay still. Move at an astonishing speed. Shut up. Scream a rumor. Turn around. Go back without returning. Upside down. Let your feet do the thinking. Be comfortable in your restlessness. Tango.
(Summertime Dream) 6:28 1x1.gif (807 Byte) The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they called 'Gitche Gumee' The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of November turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty. That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the gales of November came early.
The ship was the pride of the American side Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most With a crew and good captain well seasoned Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms When they left fully loaded for Cleveland And later that night when the ship's bell rang Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound And a wave broke over the railing And every man knew, as the captain did too, T'was the witch of November come stealin'. The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait When the Gales of November came slashin'. When afternoon came it was freezin' rain In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'. Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya. At Seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said Fellas, it's been good t'know ya The captain wired in he had water comin' in And the good ship and crew was in peril. And later that night when his lights went outta sight Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does any one know where the love of God goes When the waves turn the minutes to hours? The searches all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her. They might have split up or they might have capsized; May have broke deep and took water. And all that remains is the faces and the names Of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings In the rooms of her ice-wa
No Mountains too high, for you to climb All you have to do is have some climbing faith, oh yeah No rivers too wide, for you to make it across All you have to do is believe it when you pray
And then you will see, the morning will come And everyday will be bright as the sun All of your fears cast them on me I just want you to see...
I'll be your cloud up in the sky I'll be your shoulder when you cry I'll hear your voices when you call me I am your angel And when all hope is gone, I'm here No matter how far you are, I'm near It makes no difference who you are I am your angel I'm your angel
I saw the teardrops, and I heard you cry All you need is time, seek me and you shall find You have everything and you're still lonely It doesn't have to be this way, let me show you a better day
And then you will see, the morning will come And all of your days will be bright as the sun So all of your fears, just cast them on me How can I make you see...
I'll be your cloud up in the sky I'll be your shoulder when you cry I'll hear your voices when you call me I am your angel And when all hope is gone, I'm here No matter how far you are, I'm near It makes no difference who you are I am your angel I'm your angel
And when it's time to face the storm I'll be right by your side Grace will keep up safe and warm And I know we will survive
And when it seems as if your end is drawing near Don't you dare give up the fight Just put your trust beyond the sky...
I'll be your cloud up in the sky I'll be your shoulder when you cry I'll hear your voices when you call me I am your angel And when all hope is gone, I'm here No matter how far you are, I'm near It makes no difference who you are I am your angel I'm your angel
I'll be your cloud up in the sky I'll be your shoulder when you cry I'll h
The Sirens' Song By William Browne, of Tavistock 1588-1643
STEER, hither steer your winged pines, All beaten mariners! Here lie Love's undiscover'd mines, A prey to passengers-- Perfumes far sweeter than the best Which make the Phoenix' urn and nest. Fear not your ships, Nor any to oppose you save our lips; But come on shore, Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more.
For swelling waves our panting breasts, Where never storms arise, Exchange, and be awhile our guests: For stars gaze on our eyes. The compass Love shall hourly sing, And as he goes about the ring, We will not miss To tell each point he nameth with a kiss. --Then come on shore, Where no joy dies till Love hath gotten more.
Hi Thanks for the friendship, really appreciated. So, how’s it going ? Please, keep in touch, your comments are always welcomed. Cheers BB BlackDog Here’s the shameless band promo bit. More Video’s at WWW.YOUTUBE.COM/BBBLACKDOG
As Two Ships Passing in the Night As two ships passing in the night, So quietly neath the stars soft light; Our paths cross but now and then. Reaching out, seeking one another again
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We say hello and then we part, Knowing we've shared a piece of our heart. Some friendships stay and sadly some go. My prayers remain steady hoping ours will grow.
I ache when you're hurting, I cry when you're sad. Wanting to comfort and hold you so bad. Know that I'm waiting here, with open arms, To share all your troubles and relish your charms.
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I have nothing to offer but the soul of a friend, Strong shoulders to lean on that don't easily bend. I offer these freely with no strings attached, For in caring and sharing you'll not meet my match.
So on some long and lonely night When nothing seems to go just right Close your eyes and think of me, Under the moon's glow is where I'll be.
Take this kiss upon thy brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow— You are not wrong, to deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand— How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep—while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?
Take this kiss upon thy brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow— You are not wrong, to deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand— How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep—while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?
The Spider and the Fly Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly, 'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy; The way into my parlour is up a winding stair, And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there." Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again."
"I'm sure you must be weary, dear, with soaring up so high; Will you rest upon my little bed?" said the Spider to the Fly. "There are pretty curtains drawn around; the sheets are fine and thin, And if you like to rest awhile, I'll snugly tuck you in!" Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "for I've often heard it said, They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed!"
Said the cunning Spider to the Fly, " Dear friend what can I do, To prove the warm affection I 've always felt for you? I have within my pantry, good store of all that's nice; I'm sure you're very welcome -- will you please to take a slice?" "Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "kind Sir, that cannot be, I've heard what's in your pantry, and I do not wish to see!"
"Sweet creature!" said the Spider, "you're witty and you're wise, How handsome are your gauzy wings, how brilliant are your eyes! I've a little looking-glass upon my parlour shelf, If you'll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself." "I thank you, gentle sir," she said, "for what you 're pleased to say, And bidding you good morning now, I'll call another day."
The Spider turned him round about, and went into his den, For well he knew the silly Fly would soon come back again: So he wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly, And set his table ready, to dine upon the Fly. Then he came out to his door again, and merrily did sing, "Come hi
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