Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
He is all pine and I am apple-orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down!" I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there,
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

-- Robert Frost.

... und Ohnmacht von Mauern.
du 769 - Die Mauer. Niemandsland Palästina.

(…) Die Palästinenser richten ihre Kritik an der desolaten Lage [im Gaza-Streifen] inzwischen nicht mehr nur gegen Israel. Präsident Machmud Abbas hat in einem ungewöhnlich scharf formulierten Aufruf am Mittwoch die Terrorgruppen aufgefordert, keine Raketen auf Israel mehr abzufeuern. Dies bringe „nur Tod und Zerstörung über unser Volk“. Sogar der Sprecher der Hamas-Regierung, Ghasi Hamad, übte in einem Zeitungskommentar heftige Kritik an den Landsleuten. In Gaza herrsche „ein unbeschreibliches Chaos aus phlegmatischen Polizisten und mit Gewehren herumstolzierenden Männern“. Jedesmal, wenn mit Israel eine Grenzöffnung vereinbart worden sei, „tauchen Militante auf und schiessen absichtlich eine Rakete ab“. Es scheine, „als ob wir hartnäckig darauf beharren, die Besatzer in den Gaza-Streifen zurückzubringen“.

Thorsten Schmitz, „Die vergessene Zeitbombe“.
SZ 201/01.09.2006. Bild: © Reuters

Schon drei Tage lang beginnen fast alle meine Gedanken mit Nein. Nein, er wird nicht kommen, wir werden nicht reden, werden nicht lachen. Nein, er wird nicht mehr da sein, dieser Junge mit dem ironischen Blick und dem irren Humor, dieser weit über seine Jahre gereifte junge Mann. Nein, es wird sie nicht mehr geben, dieses warme Lächeln und den herzhaften Appetit, diese seltene Verbindung von Entschlossenheit und Feingefühl, von gesundem Menschenverstand und Herzensweisheit. Nein, sie sind nicht mehr, Uris unendliche Zärtlichkeit und die Ruhe, mit der er jeden Sturm ausglich. Und nein, wir werden nicht mehr gemeinsam die Simpsons und Seinfeld gucken, nicht mehr Johnny Cash mit dir hören, nicht mehr deine feste, Halt gebende Umarmung spüren. Und nein, wir werden dich nicht mehr lebhaft gestikulierend mit Jonathan gehen und reden oder deine heiß geliebte Schwester Ruthi umarmen sehen. (...)

... muss ich mich aber beeilen.
Ist ja bereits wieder September.
Verdammt - bin gefühlsmässig erst im Juni.

... aus der Perlenküche!

... from "The Witches of Eastwick".

Daryl Van Horne: I see men, sixty, seventy years old breaking their balls to stay fit! What for? When I die, I want to be sick, not healthy.

***

Alexandra Medford: I don't think that men are the answer to everything.
Sukie Ridgemont: No.
Jane Spofford: Then why do we always end up talking about them?

***

Alexandra Medford: I think... no, I am positive... that you are the most unattractive man I have ever met in my entire life. You know, in the short time we've been together, you have demonstrated EVERY loathsome characteristic of the male personality and even discovered a few new ones. You are physically repulsive, intellectually retarded, you're morally reprehensible, vulgar, insensitive, selfish, stupid, you have no taste, a lousy sense of humor and you smell. You're not even interesting enough to make me sick.

***

Daryl Van Horne: Do you think God knew what He was doing when He created woman? Huh? No shit. I really wanna know. Or do you think it was another one of His minor mistakes like tidal waves, earthquakes, FLOODS? You think women are like that? S'matter? You don't think God makes mistakes? Of course He does. We ALL make mistakes. Of course, when WE make mistakes they call it evil. When GOD makes mistakes, they call it... nature. So whaddya think? Women... a mistake... or DID HE DO IT TO US ON PURPOSE?

***

Sukie Ridgemont: You're terrible!
Alexandra Medford: No I'm not. I'm fabulous.

***

Daryl Van Horne: You may think me crazy, but I know music. It's the one thing that makes me humble.

***

Daryl Van Horne: Well, if that's how you feel about it, then that's how you feel about it. Is that how you feel about it?

Aufgehorcht.
"He’s a silly little bugger!"
Und genossen.
Englisch, wie es NUR von der Insel kommen kann...

... aus der alpinen Eiswelt: Gletscher im Treibhaus.
Schweizerisches Alpines Museum Bern.

1910 2000
Oberer Grindelwaldgletscher. © GöF

Ergänzender Link: Gletscherarchiv.

... verwirrt übrigens gerade Venedig.