Bella Ferraro doing a great job with her interpretation One Direction‘s song “What Makes You Beautiful”. Obviously Mel B was quite upset about Bella’s sarcastic Spice Girl comment and it comes across in her comments. However, even with the song not being strictly a party song it is still a great rendition. Her styling reminds me a bit of Molly Ringwald in her old movies e.g. Pretty in Pink.
This is the amazing mating ritual of the Red-capped Manakin Bird, which closely resembles Michael Jackson’s famous moonwalk. I saw it on QI last night on TV and just had to post it. It’s such a colourful little bird as well and apparently also attracts females by vibrating its wings, much like cicadas do here in Australia. Enjoy!
The previous post by Daniela, i.e. “Why oh Why” made me think of this song by Sade. Like Peace Train by Cat Stevens it resonates with me with its powerful message of peace, compassion and respect for all humanity.
Great post on war and religion.
There is no escaping it! I tried, I honestly did … turning my face to the glorious spring sunshine this Sunday morning, blocking my thoughts from the various news channels, and Internet, and blogs, and papers. But turning my head to the other side did not work. I could not escape it. Just like I never could.
The talk, the stench, the cries of war … war dogs are getting out again.
And it bothers me. It bothers me because some 20 odd years ago those same dogs, using the same self-proclaimed and self-fulfilling righteous ideologies and iconographies, managed to enflame ethnic and religious fevers, set at the exactly right time and within the exactly right environment, amongst the collapse of communism in Europe, to stage blood baths and destroy the once beautiful country I called mine.
The wound deeply buried inside my chest stirred, nudged with the blade as old, and as…
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Beautiful photos and great flowing, historical and current description. Almost makes you feel that you are part of the scene.
The weather map in the morning paper said it all: one oval isobar, a lazy ridge of high pressure lapping at the shores of the British Isles. Nothing like it for the whole of this damp, drab summer. Early on, with the dog in the park, there had been frost, now the sky was an expanse of blue, transmitting from beyond the city, as Robert Macfarlane put it in The Wild Places, ‘a longing for surfaces other than glass, brick, concrete and tarmac’.
In my mind I saw an upland ridge, expansive views across peaceful vales to mountains and the sea: and so we headed out of Liverpool, thirty miles to the Clwydian hills, and one and a half millenia back in time to Offa’s Dyke.
We followed fast roads down through the Wirral, across the ruthlessly canalised river Dee at Queensferry, via Mold through the villages that hug the…
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Here are some pictures of a hugely modified friend’s Toyota . It is affectionately known as Bluey, but I think it should be called The Beast. I thought I would put it here for all the car enthusiasts, or Rev Heads as we call them here in Oz.
Another good Hilltop Hoods song.