Nothing is the beginning. Nothing is the end. Here begins and ends the third epoch of this retrofreak weblog by Brünnhilde von Erde, Die Walküre, der Wala Kind.

Post in Spanish

According to the brilliant suggestions of Smith Agent, La Roca de la Walkyria (Walkyrie's Rock) and Beyond Tannhäuser Gate, after being nominated for the obtention of the Best Blog written in Macarronic [bad] English Smith Award are going to meld its contents. >;P

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser

persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.


Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.


Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.


Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.


You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.


Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.


With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.


Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

It is a fact of modern life that in Europe and the USA people are having fewer children than their parents and grandparents did. In Europe it's said that the average rate is 1.5 children per woman. Spain has the lowest rate. Italy is not far from behind Germany and Greece. So the birth rate it's falling, unless we consider inmigration, but why? In a poll, many people said that they wanted to have more children but believed that they could not afford to. When they were asked how many they intended to have some said one, though the majority said two. A few said that they intended to have four or more. Of course some of those who want are unable to have children or unable to have more than one. Some said they would like to have more children but they were worried about not having enough oney to pay for their education. When asked if they would have more if they inherited a million euros, they said that they thought they would, but weren't sure.A common belief is that their parents and grandparents had produced a lot of children because they had been farmers and children were a benefit on a farm. In the city, however, they are not. Some of them had therefore decided that they did not want to have a family, though his/her wife/husband was very keen to. Another people said his wife/husband want to have a family but he/she didn't. Why not? Because his/her parents had been divorced and he/she didn't want to inflict this on his/her children.

Read in bold characters in a economical magazine. A piece of advice for success.

'Is Middle Earth flat?'*

This apparently naive question could be included in any FAQ list made by some of the miriads Tolkien's fans.

Have they come too far?

No, this question is a serious exercise as a rough introduction of non-euclidean geometry in a heavy and rigurous book full of mathematical formulae and physical principles, 'Gravitation and Cosmology: Principles and Applications of the General Relativity', by Steven Weinberg** (1971), professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.





'- You Struck Gold at MIT? [...]
- They expelled me for my theory of Actual Reality Which I'll soon impart
To the couch potatoes at New York University'


'Today 4 U', from 'Rent', by Jonathan Larson


* I have just read a curious review about 'The Silmarillion' that reminded me this question.

** Yes, the author of 'The Three First Minutes of the Universe'!'

'The Ethics of Belief' is a W.K. Clifford's essay, written in 1879.The most recent reprinting editor remarks in the preface (1994):

'People have long been interested in the circumstances under which it is appropriate to believe. Often, the source of the interest is the desire to believe something for which one has insufficient evidence.'

I offer you the opening paragraph:

A SHIPOWNER was about to send to sea an emigrant-ship. He knew that she was old, and not over-well built at the first; that she had seen many seas and climes, and often had needed repairs. Doubts had been suggested to him that possibly she was not seaworthy. These doubts preyed upon his mind and made him unhappy; he thought that perhaps he ought to have her thoroughly overhauled and refitted, even though this should put him to great expense. Before the ship sailed, however, he succeeded in overcoming these melancholy reflections. He said to himself that she had gone safely through so many voyages and weathered so many storms that it was idle to suppose she would not come safely home from this trip also. He would put his trust in Providence, which could hardly fail to protect all these unhappy families that were leaving their fatherland to seek for better times elsewhere. He would dismiss from his mind all ungenerous suspicions about the honesty of builders and contractors. In such ways he acquired a sincere and comfortable conviction that his vessel was thoroughly safe and seaworthy; he watched her departure with a light heart, and benevolent wishes for the success of the exiles in their strange new home that was to be; and he got his insurance-money when she went down in mid-ocean and told no tales.
What shall we say of him? Surely this, that he was verily guilty of the death of those men. It is admitted that he did sincerely believe in the soundness of his ship; but the sincerity of his conviction can in no wise help him, because he had no right to believe on such evidence as was before him. He had acquired his belief not by honestly earning it in patient investigation, but by stifling his doubts. And although in the end he may have felt so sure about it that he could not think otherwise, yet inasmuch as he had knowingly and willingly worked himself into that frame of mind, he must be held responsible for it.

"The last car drove away. It began to rain.
And so our hero's life ended as it had begun... a disaster.

'I never got any breaks' he had always complained.

He wanted to be rich. He died poor. He wanted friends. He died friendless. He wanted to be loved. He died unloved. He wanted laughter. He found only tears. He wanted applause. He received boos. he wanted fame. He found only obscurity. He wanted answers. He found only questions.

*I'm having a hard time ending this...*"

'Peanuts' Good ol' Charlie Brown , by Schultz.

Finally, I rescued my old 'Caravelle' fountain pen from the bottom of a forgotten drawer. It was given me as a present half and a decade ago. 'For your use when you grow up'- dad had uttered. I was watching its pointed edge. 'The pen is mightier than the sword' - I grinned mischievously at this thought. I realized there was still some dry ink inside it. I turned the tap and washed it with some clean water. I observed the falling ink drops into the sink. They were highly brilliant ultramarine blue, almost violet. They mixed them chaotically like the smoke of a cigarette in the air.

I dried completely the writing instrument and filled in again with fresh ink of the same colour. Then I wrote in a simple calligraphy the first characters on the recently obtained legendary Moleskine notebook.

Of course, this not makes me an intellectual European nor an artist as Van Gogh, Matisse, Chatwin or even Hemingway in Europe.

Actually, at this moment, even ordinary european citizens or visitors can find Möet et Chandon in some supermarkets.

C'est la vie!