If you are using special sharpeners like water stones,
you may not be able to count the twelve different Calvinist directions
that exist in Holland — though they fight them bitterly.
Yet at night I dream in sentences and words, always.
That is work best left to a specialist, since improper use of stones
can damage a blade, and diminish her chances of resuming
a record of treating environmental degradation
as a human rights matter. Nothing characterizes life in Warmond
more accurately then the confessions of her to be taken very seriously
demarcations. Faith shares no common border
with that relativistic culture-Protestantism that has sucked
all heat from Last Things. Romeo
and Juliet don’t
live here anymore, and upon waking up in the early dawn
I remember nothing.
No, the world has never disgusted me.
That would kill individuals yet it would not be the final
blow to a sturdy but suffering culture.
On this Wednesday the last stela is planted (if that’s the right word)
in the Southeast corner of the area bordering on the ministerial gardens,
a small festive event. The paving
between the more than 2700 concrete ashlars is nearing completion.
The shell of the underground “information place” that will eventually house
an instructive, if harrowing mass of documents is nearly ready.
The outwork serves life, which happens specifically not there,
as otherwise we all would clearly not be in the middle of it, in its fullness,
in the fullness of human life, and it serves to observe
of life, which always happens elsewhere.
It is easy to slow that process with daily strokes on a honing steel
Some of us have dozen's of knives. Maybe you have hundreds.
Perhaps they are a collector's item? Maybe to one man, a badge
of honor: "He who dies with the most knives wins!"
It lies between the showplaces of the German nation state, the
waxing and waning of the Prussian State and the Weimar democracy. Around its site roars
inner city traffic, stand in part facades of a better GDR facture,
in part the ambitious
cubes of embassies, the backside
of the Hotel Adlon and the green tresses of the trees in the Tiergarten.
Something is bound to give, and it's starting to give in the Arctic,
there where one is not.
I am afraid, if I have to turn myself to the outside,
yes, it is truly an turning oneself inside-out.
Now go to knifeforums.com, chowhound.com and egullet.com.
to figure out whom to eat next.