GLASS ONION Knives Out

GLASS ONION Knives Out

Here comes Knives Out again!

 

 

About the first Dinner with Murder I have been VERY enigmatic, so now, I should exceed 🙂

Just kidding! Of course I won’t, although really the “mystery” is hardly the interesting part of the Glass Onion movie. 

I found the whole chain of quotes and cameos ringed together as a long sequence of amusing gems.

Even Spot appears.

The cameo I loved the most?
“Angie” … for you to find out who she is.

Among the official cast my favorite is Kate Hudson, who reunites with the same friend from How to loose a guy in ten days, the movie I told you about in You’re so vain

About friendships: a friend of director Rian Johnson is the … time gong aka Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

The most iconic unofficial quote in my opinion is the White Russian: although Dude is unique and inimitable.

Speaking of drinks: beware of drinks!
Incidentally, Glass Onion is the name of a Cafe.

As for coffee in a scene there is the I love New York mug in the picture, but it is definitely Jared Leto’s Kombucha tea that takes the cake.

Miles Bron, the character played by Edward Norton, is a parody of the … so-called new owner of Twitter … 

Dave Bautista is in sharp regression from his Drax in The Guardians of the Galaxy.

And I honestly shuddered at the idea that anyone would even think of comparing the detective played by Daniel Craig to Hercule Poirot

All wrong then?

Yes. But that is precisely the power of the movie.

It is a dangerous thing to exchange talking without thinking with telling the truth.
Benoit Blanc

I WAS BORN ON THE DAY OF THE PIAZZA FONTANA MASSACRE

I WAS BORN ON THE DAY OF THE PIAZZA FONTANA MASSACRE

I was born on the day of the Piazza Fontana massacre, and I defy even those who are not superstitious not to see ominous signs in it.

I was born at home, on the kitchen table, like a fresh loaf of bread in the early morning

When my mother shaked my father telling “it’s time,” he just turned on the other side and went on sleeping.

How could I blame him? I was coming to dawn as importunate as an alarm clock.

I was born in Cilavegna and I am one of the last people to be able to say this: as of January 1970 it was no longer possible to use a midwife, and it became mandatory to give birth in a hospital. Since there were no hospitals in Cilavegna, from that date on, new babies saw the light elsewhere.

I was born in Lomellina, land of fog and mosquitoes, but my father is of Venetian descent and my great-grandmother on my mother’s side was German. I am basically a mixture.

I was born into a simple family, Ihad simple things and a happy childhood.

My maternal grandmother, who looked after me from the time my mother resumed her job as a clerk, had swollen knees from all her mondina days, and, unable to move nimbly, entertained me by telling stories.

The result was that, before I began to walk, I spoke perfectly without the classic infantile mispronunciations, and I knew nursery rhymes, prayers and numbers.

Words were my first games, my first friends, my first nourishment.

Nevertheless, the kindergarten debut was quite traumatic: my shyness was relentless.

I had not yet understood the pleasure of chatting and socializing, a concept I largely recovered after the middle ages of adolescence.

But let us proceed step by step: for the nuns who conducted the kindergarten, my interaction defect was not a noteworthy aspect, quite the contrary. Rather, the problem was created by my inability to fall asleep after lunch.

Standing still in my cot, I would silently weave the bangs of the rough plaid under which I was supposed to fall asleep instead.

I did not feel that I was creating a disturbance, but that was one of my first errors of judgment: I still have clear memories of the reprimand from Sister Antonia, who among the sisters was the better and quieter one.

Thereafter rather than the bangs I took to interweaving my attempts at intentionality with my grandfather’s big heart. He would work night shifts and in the morning, exhausted, instead of going to rest. he would accommodate my requests, effectively endorsing the intent to skip kindergarten.

A tumor took him away when I was only five years old leaving me a huge void and an unfulfilled desire in return.

He used to tell me “as soon as I retire I will teach you German.”

During the war he was used as an interpreter after a German officer, striking him, heard him reply in his own language.

I thought I would learn easily, that I would listen happily as with Grandma’s stories, but instead he could tell me no more.

When elementary school time came, there was no school on Thursdays, but by then I didn’t care much.

Some people still called us remiges: lined up in rows of two, hand in hand, with our overcoats over our black aprons from which sprouted the big blue bow knotted under the white collar.

It began on the first of October when the desks were still desks, and the folders contained a checkbook and a ruled notebook, small ones, with the blotting paper for the ink of fountain pens: witnesses to a writing that no longer exists.

… TO BE CONTINUED.

Pic by Massimo

HERON’S FORMULA ON THE LITERARY PORTAL

HERON’S FORMULA ON THE LITERARY PORTAL

Heron’s Formula on Mari’s Manual literary portal.

I have in my heart three feelings with which one can never be bored: sadness, love and gratitude.
Alexandre Dumas

I sincerely thank Mari’s Manual for welcoming me on their literary portal.

Now Heron’s Formula is also here, as well as part of the Book Fair Gallery.

 

I can only say that I am extremely honored and I steal the words from the song: I think I feel CONFUSED AND HAPPY 🎶

In case you are not yet familiar with Mari’s Manual, you find the essence in the slogan: Poetry and Literature in the Seas of the Web.

I find the seas of the web to be a beautiful definition: aren’t we all virtual sailors?

Indeed, I would say better virtual sailors and dreamers.

Traveling the length and breadth of the world I have met magnificent dreamers, men and women who stubbornly believe in dreams. They keep them, cultivate them, share them, multiply them. I humbly, in my own way, did the same.
Luis Sepúlveda

So Heron’s Formula on Mari’s Handbook literary portal for me is first and foremost a dream, but I hope it can also be a journey that will lead me to the possibility of learning, discovering and sharing.

BETWEEN THE FINGERS OF DREAMS

BETWEEN THE FINGERS OF DREAMS

Between the Fingers of Dreams is the gift I received from Anna Calisti thanks to Manual of Mari

The cover of the book shows a red rose and Rosa Rossa is the pseudonym of the author who literally put her heart into this book.

And with my heart I thank her.

Anna’s poems paint Love in all its forms, in all its facets, even the painful ones, each just like a rose petal: delicate, fragrant, colorful and velvety.

Some petals are personal dedications, other petals are reflections, and there is also some poetry in French because life led Anna to move with her family to Luxembourg.

Anna was born the same year as my mom, but before I discovered this I was already caring for her.

In this comment she told me about how her mother used to make coffee on the wood stove,  you can imagine me, reading with heart eyes, can’t you?!

Anna’s poem I prefer is in fact Memories: it conveyed to me the full force of her roots which I cherish.

The world in a square, life flowing, a journey through time.

Between the fingers of dreams a title that allows to thnik to dreams in a tangible way, in some way allows to be able to touch them.

We are approaching the magical season of Christmas: is there a dream that you wish you could touch?

Speaking of dreams, understood not as wishes but precisely as sleep-related psychic phenomenon, for me they always represent an intense desire to be able to find any messages they contain.

What do you think about this?

Do you think there is a definite reason behind what our R.E.M. phase shows us?

Can you understand your dreams?

COFFEE IN THE SAND

COFFEE IN THE SAND

Sand coffee or, more precisely Turkish sand coffee is the typical Turkish coffee brewed in hot sand.

First of all, thank you Lu: inexhaustible source of tips, and in case you have not yet visited her blog The Caustic Misanthrope be aware that you are missing out on very interesting reading.

Bir fincan kahve i.e. the cup of coffee is brewed in the cezve.

The cezve is a kind of kettle pot with a classic pot-bellied shape on the bottom, long-handled with a spout designed specifically for making Turkish coffee.

 

Turkish coffee is prepared differently than ours: ground coffee and water are mixed directly in the cezve and the coffee powder is not filtered.

This is why it is sometimes sweetened or spiced first: when the coffee is ready, the coffee powder settles quickly to the bottom but you don’t have to stir it.

But speaking of grains, let’s come to the sand!

What does sand have to do with this?

Apparently, coffee was introduced to Istanubul by Syrian traders in the 16th century, however it was initially considered a drug, so it was forbidden.

However, coffee gained popularity and the ban was lifted.

Sultans and nobles began to have it brewed by their workers using the hot sand method.

Because in the hot sand the heat is enveloping and complete compared to the flames of a fire, it makes for a coffee with a creamy consistency.

 

In the following video you can see the process.

What do you think about?

Not to rub it in, but unlike our coffee, Turkish coffee has been added to UNESCO‘s list of intangible cultural heritage of humanity. 

Perhaps we could try reading coffee grounds to seek more luck for the future.

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