Julian Assange CAN dance after all...

Kashmir Hill at Forbes has written a fresh article regaling the world with the video the Iceland-based American DJ Seth Sharp took at a Reykjavik club he was DJ'ing at and at which Julian Assange happened to be. This was at the time of the Collateral Murder video operation.

Needless to say, hordes of media have picked up the news with varied results - from the matter-of-fact to the ridiculously dull and petty - and Assange fanciers have got even bigger fanciers. After all, it's very good to see his more private and 'normal' side. 

While Daniel Domscheit-Berg had previously described Assange's dancing style in unfavourable terms - his nickname during these dance sorties was Disco King, due to his 'tribesman-like' moves - what we see is actually better than we were made to believe. Ah, very bad of you, Domscheit-Berg.

Apparently Assange can actually dance hence yet probably another proof that Domscheit-Berg is telling tall tales. Daniel Domscheit-Berg, on the other hand, can be seen in the video sitting at the bar looking miserable and in all likelihood taking mental notes of yet something silly to use for his literary masterpiece Inside WikiLeaks. Assange, the man the media can't live without. Domscheit-Berg, the man the media are squeezing in the hope to get rid of him as soon as possible.

All that matters...

A Thing of Beauty

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkn'd ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

John Keats

Agony and Ecstasy



Flow in grace

 

Bolero and Intensity

Every time I listen to Bolero, as I'm doing right now, many thoughts cross my mind. But mostly it's feelings and emotions. And memories. Of my childhood, of the times when my father was working or tidying up in his studio with Bolero on and I was dreaming of one day playing violin .

Of someone I knew snoring in the night while I was so intently trying to listen to the radio.

Of the times when I've longed for more intensity in my life.

But all that remains is the love and fascination with such beauty, intensity and passion, with the almost hypnotic music. I feel like what drives me in life is intensity, although the type of intensity that at times can become burning and dangerous. Like at the present moment...