krainaksiazek stuff i wrote 20043839
- znaleziono 10 produkty w 4 sklepach
Stuff Smith / Oscar Peterson Pool Winners Records
1. Desert Sands 2. Soft Winds 3. Things Ain't What They Used To Be 4. It Don't Mean A Thing 5. Time & Again 6. I Know That You Know 7. In A Mellow Tone 8. Heat Wave 9. Body & Soul 10. Calypso 11. I Wrote My Song
Książki & Multimedia > Książki
Opis - 'Only with the greatest of simplifications, for the sake of convenience, can we say Africa. In reality, except as a geographical term, Africa doesn't exist'. Ryszard Kapuscinski has been writing about the people of Africa throughout his career. In a study that avoids the official routes, palaces and big politics, he sets out to create an account of post-colonial Africa seen at once as a whole and as a location that wholly defies generalised explanations. It is both a sustained meditation on the mosaic of peoples and practises we call 'Africa', and an impassioned attempt to come to terms with humanity itself as it struggles to escape from foreign domination, from the intoxications of freedom, from war and from politics as theft. The Beginning: Collision, Ghana 1958 More than anything, one is struck by the light. Light everywhere. Brightness everywhere. Everywhere, the sun. Just yesterday, an autumnal London was drenched in rain. The airplane drenched in rain. A cold, wind, darkness. But here, from the morning's earliest moments, the airport is ablaze with sunlight, all of us in sunlight. In times past, when people wandered the world on foot, rode on horseback, or sailed in ships, the journey itself accustomed them to the change. Images of the earth passed ever so slowly before their eyes, the stage revolved in a barely perceptible way. The voyage lasted weeks, months. The traveller had time to grow used to another environment, a different landscape. The climate too, changed gradually. Before the traveller arrived from a cool Europe to the burning Equator, he already had left behind the pleasant warmth of Las Palmas, the heat of Al-Mahara, and the hell of the Cape Verde islands. Today, nothing remains of these gradations. Air travel tears us violently out of snow and cold and hurls us that very same day into the blaze of the tropics. Suddenly, still rubbing our eyes, we find ourselves in a humid inferno. We immediately start to sweat. If we've come from Europe in the wintertime, we discard overcoats, peel off sweaters. It's the first gesture of initiation we, the people of the North, perform upon arrival in Africa. People of the North. Have we sufficiently considered the fact that northerners constitute a distinct minority on our planet? Canadians and Poles, Lithuanians and Scandinavians, some Americans and Germans, Russians and Scots. Laplanders and Eskimos, Evenkis and Yakuts - the list is not very long. It may amount to o more than 500 million people: less than 10 per cent of the earth's population. The overwhelming majority live in hot climates, their days spent in the warmth of the sun. Mankind first came into being in the sun, the oldest traces of his existence have been found in warm climes. What was the weather like in the biblical paradise? It was eternally warm, hot even, so that Adam and Eve could go about naked and not feel chilled even in the shade of a tree. Something else strikes the new arrival even as he descends the steps of the airplane: the smell of the tropics. Perhaps he's had intimations of it. It is the scent that permeated Mr Kanzman's little shop, Colonial and Other Goods, on Perec Street in my hometown of Pinsk. Almonds, cloves, dates, and cocoa. Vanilla and laurel leaves, oranges and bananas, cardamom and saffron. And Drohobych. The interiors of Bruno Schulz's cinnamon shops. Didn't their
Shadow of the Sun Penguin
'Only with the greatest of simplifications, for the sake of convenience, can we say Africa. In reality, except as a geographical term, Africa doesn't exist'. Ryszard Kapuscinski has been writing about the people of Africa throughout his career. In a study that avoids the official routes, palaces and big politics, he sets out to create an account of post-colonial Africa seen at once as a whole and as a location that wholly defies generalised explanations. It is both a sustained meditation on the mosaic of peoples and practises we call 'Africa', and an impassioned attempt to come to terms with humanity itself as it struggles to escape from foreign domination, from the intoxications of freedom, from war and from politics as theft. The Beginning: Collision, Ghana 1958 More than anything, one is struck by the light. Light everywhere. Brightness everywhere. Everywhere, the sun. Just yesterday, an autumnal London was drenched in rain. The airplane drenched in rain. A cold, wind, darkness. But here, from the morning
Penguin Knitting Book Penguin Books Ltd
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
The Penguin Knitting Book by James Norbury is a charming how-to-knit classic packed with delightfully vintage advice. Knitting fills a fascinating page in the human story. I know of no home-craft that enjoys the universal popularity of hand-knitting James Norbury's The Penguin Knitting Book, first published in 1957, is a how-to guide for the experienced knitter as well as the beginner. Full of wit and charm as well as tips and techniques for the contemporary knitter, The Penguin Knitting Book entertainingly illustrates all things vintage in the world of wool. Along with telling you how to knit, The Penguin Knitting Book includes original vintage patterns for every member of the family. Babies' coats, pullovers for father, sweaters for the teenager, dresses, jumpers, coats and cardigans, you will find them all in this charming aid to better knitting. "James Norbury was the strongest single influence in British knitting during the twenty-five years after the Second World War". (Sir Bishop Richard Rutt, author of A History of Hand Knitting). "[In the late 1960s] there was a chap called James Norbury, who had his own knitting show on the BBC. I sat in on some of the programmes, and good stuff it was, too. I learned lots of racy stuff about 'knit one, purl one'." (Sir David Attenborough). "Knitting is the saving of a life". (Virginia Woolf). James Norbury wrote The Penguin Knitting Book in 1957. He travelled extensively throughout the world, studying every aspect of the knitter's craft. A knitting historian, teacher and designer as well as a television star on his own BBC knitting show, he was Chief Designer for Patons and one of the foremost authorities on the history of knitting.
Unseen Guest Chipmunka Publishing
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
Description Chloda Delaney is an investigative journalist on The Daily. When the newspaper receives a phone call stating the intention of ridding the world of all psychics they think it is a hoax - but this is followed by the murder of renowned psychic, Raoul Marlo. Glen Lassiter is assigned to the case along with his partner Merryfield. But with Glen's hatred of reporters he is quick to pick an ex journalist as his prime suspect - whilst Chloda is equally convinced that Vaughan Tyler (an ex magician) is guilty. Meanwhile, Father Jacobson, a vocal protester of the wickedness of mediums, is a suspect too - and, as he is plagued by visions of the murders taking place, he is as keen as anyone to track down the killer - especially as he believes that the murderer is his son. About the Author The author has suffered with depression and anxiety for several years and finds that the only way that she can feel in control is in the release experienced through writing. As an avid reader she often wished for the story to take an alternative route to the one in which the author was compelled to go. So, in an effort to escape her problems she sought to control the lives of the characters that she created. Book Extract It was not what Chloda had expected. The hall was larger than she had imagined and more people had squeezed into it than she had considered was either possible or safe. It was also noisier than she had expected - the audience was not the subdued group of people that she had anticipated would visit this event and the air had an edge to it - it was fraught with tension and expectation. She opened her notebook and wrote down these impressions in her typically big and brash hand writing - she still enjoyed writing in long hand even if it did take longer than the shorthand she was obliged to use in order to get interviews down verbatim. "Investigative journalism," She snorted derisively. This was not an interview, though, was it? This was a kind of critical review. She had half expected to see signs advertising 'Madame Zelda - Here Tonight! Get your fortunes told and discover what is in store for next week'. But, of course, Marguerite Bourne was not a fortune-teller - she was a medium. The cynic in her wanted to quip 'she looks more like a large' but she bit her bottom lip and used her shorthand to jot down some of the snatches of conversation that drifted within earshot instead. "... and then she said that Billy had laughed when my chestnut hair dye turned my hair pink and I thought 'yes that's my Billy alright'. She was spot on about Auntie Mabel too ..." "I'm telling you its spooky how she knows it but she does. 'it's in the sideboard' she said - and how on earth could she know what I'd lost let alone where it was?" Chloda wanted to tell them that this stuff was a load of rubbish and anyone could get lucky with a few 'stabs in the dark' - but she did not say a word. Her job this evening was to investigate Mrs Bourne's 'gift' and to speculate on how genuine it was. Not that she believed that it could be - but an assignment was an assignment and she took pride in her work. Plus there was the added bonus of that psychic guy - what was his name? Marley? Marlon? Anyway, his mu
Smoke Bellew 1st World Library
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
In the beginning he was Christopher Bellew. By the time he was at college he had become Chris Bellew. Later, in the Bohemian crowd of San Francisco, he was called Kit Bellew. And in the end he was known by no other name than Smoke Bellew. And this history of the evolution of his name is the history of his evolution. Nor would it have happened had he not had a fond mother and an iron uncle, and had he not received a letter from Gillet Bellamy. "I have just seen a copy of the Billow," Gillet wrote from Paris. "Of course O'Hara will succeed with it. But he's missing some plays." (Here followed details in the improvement of the budding society weekly.) "Go down and see him. Let him think they're your own suggestions. Don't let him know they're from me. If he does, he'll make me Paris correspon-dent, which I can't afford, because I'm getting real money for my stuff from the big magazines. Above all, don't forget to make him fire that dub who's doing the musical and art criticism. Another thing, San Francisco has always had a literature of her own. But she hasn't any now. Tell him to kick around and get some gink to turn out a live serial, and to put into it the real romance and glamour and colour of San Francisco."
Smoke Bellew (Classic Reprint) Forgotten Books
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
Excerpt from Smoke Bellew In the beginning he was Christopher Bellew. By the time he was at college he had become Chris Bellew. Later, in the Bohemian crowd of San Francisco, he was called Kit Bellew. And in the end he was known by no other name than Smoke Bellew. And this history of the evolution of his name is the history of his evolution. Nor would it have happened had he not had a fond mother and an iron uncle, and had he not received a letter from Gillet Bellamy. "I have just seen a copy of The Billow," Gillet wrote from Paris. "Of course O'Hara will succeed with it. But he's missing some tricks." Here followed details in the improvement of the budding society weekly. "Go down and see him. Let him think they're your own suggestions. Don't let him know they're from me. If you do, he'll make me Paris correspondent, which I can't afford, because I'm getting real money for my stuff from the big magazines. Above all, don't forget to make him fire that dub who's doing the musical and art criticism. Another thing. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
Journals and Miscellaneous Notebooks HARVARD UNIVERSITY PRESS
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
Emerson's journals of 1847-1848 deal primarily with his second visit to Europe, occasioned by a British lecture tour that began at Manchester and Liverpool in November of 1847, took him to Scotland in the following February, and concluded in London during June after he had spent a month as a sightseer in Paris. The journals of these years, alogn with associated notebooks and letters, recorded the materials for lectures that Emerson composed while abroad, for additional lectures on England and the English that he wrote shortly after his return to Concord, and ultimately, for "English Traits," the book growing out of his travels that he was to publish in 1856. Travel abroad provided a needed change for Emerson in 1847 as it had done on previous occasions, though with his usual discounting of the values of mere change of place he was slow in deciding to make the trip. Discouragement with the prevailing political climate at the time of the Mexican War and the old uncertainty about his own proper role in the "Lilliput" of American society were much on his mind as the year began. In March he thought of withdraing temporarily "from all domestic & accustomed relations"--preferably to enjoy "an absolute leisure with books," thought he also recognized the want of some "stated task" to stimulate his flagging vitality; in July he finally agreed to accept a long-standing invitation to visit England as a lecturer. As matters turned out, a full schedule of lectures and travel, unexpectedly heavy social engagements along the way, and proliferating correspondence left Emerson little time for reading but did not prevent him from filling his journals with sharp observations on the passing scene. As Emerson moved about England his acknowledged admiration for the English rose every day, though he was careful to distinguish their less admirable qualities. The Englishman's "stuff or substance seems to be the best of the world," he told Margaret Fuller. "I forgive him all his pride. My respect is the more generous that I have no sympathy with him, only an admiration." He took a wry amusement from the new experience of being lionized by his hosts. In his journals are lively portraits of those who entertained him, such as Richard Monckton Milnes, his particular sponsor in the society of London and Paris, and sketches of literary notables including Rogers, Dc Quincey, Wilson, Tennyson, and Dickens. He renewed acquaintance with Wordsworth and recorded in detail the pronouncements of his old friend Carlyle. Settling in London in March and April of 1848, he divided his time between work at his desk, visits to nearby points of interest, and the mixed pleasures of a busy social life. In May he went to France just as an abortive uprising against the new provisional government was brewing. Four weeks in Paris served to correct his old "prejudice" against the French, who on closer acquaintance rose in his estimation just as the English had done. In June he returned to London to lecture, and in July, after visiting Stonehenge with Carlyle, he sailed home. As the journals reveal, he reached Concord refreshed and renewed by the change of scene, the new acquaintance, and the generous reception that the trip had brought him, and with an enlarged perspective that revealed to him once again the "proper glory" of his own country.
G Michael Dobbs - Escape BearManor Media
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
It doesn't seem so odd nowadays that people in their 20s through 60s quote Bugs Bunny or collect animation art or look forward to a new animated DVD chock full of extras. Growing up in the 1950s and '60s, cartoons were definitely kid's stuff. Oh sure, adults watched The Flintstones, which was shown during prime time. And Rocky and Bullwinkle had jokes I didn't get but my parents did. Generally, though cartoons were thought of as the programs children watched on Saturday morning or feature films that were deemed suitable entertainment. By the late 1980s the status of animation had begun to change. The fact is if you were 25 years old in 1965 and loved cartoons, many people would have thought you had some sort of arrested development. Today, there's nothing wrong with adults decorating their cubicle at work with Loony Tune action figures or a Betty Boop toy. This book is more than just a collection of updated articles, interviews and reviews I wrote for my two animation magazines, Animato and Animation Planet. It is also a look at how animation went from being perceived as a throwaway medium aimed at kids to a commercial art form for both adults and children. How did this change take place? How did an adult fan base for animation emerge? Several key factors made this shift take place. This book, chock full of interviews and photos, examines the change in the animation industry. Have fun, kids!
24 Hours at a Time Dog Ear Publishing
Książki / Literatura obcojęzyczna
I imagine life in a firehouse is a bit like life in a prison. You have a certain amount of time to kill before your sentence is up, and much of that time is spent swapping stories. Most yarns get told so often, both the teller and the listener are already painfully aware of each tiny detail. Occasionally, someone will remark, "Somebody ought to be writing this stuff down," as if the worn-out tales are of such noteworthy substance, society at large would be the poorer if they slipped into oblivion. Taking the bait, I started writing-not all of the stories, only mine. After all, the only facts I could be sure of were the ones I was directly involved with, and thus, the only ones I felt I could share, with any sense of accuracy. Just a few dozen of the thousands of events seemed noteworthy, so the vast majority of them remain un-chronicled, as they should. I usually wrote each narrative shortly after it occurred, while the memory was fresh and the images were still vivid in my mind. I then clicked the "SAVE" icon on the word processor and left the writing buried on the computer's hard drive- sometimes for decades. It was not until my career was winding down that I seriously considered making a book out of them. If you are a fireman and read the book it will be very familiar to you-you've made hundreds of calls just like these; in fact, your stories might be much better. If you're a civilian, curious about life in the fire department, the stories might surprise you. It's not exactly the job many folks think it is. It's a whole lot more-some good, some bad. The stories range from fires to floods, births to suicides, escaped parrots to trapped kittens, crazy civilians to crazier firemen. Some days it felt like you were a performer in the circus, while everybody clapped. Other days you felt like the guy with the shovel, following the elephants while everybody laughed. Just try and keep in mind this book was written by a fireman, not a professional wordsmith who knows how to dangle his participles without anyone noticing. I think my best writing was done on various bathroom walls during my Junior High School years. Alas, nobody thought to save it.
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