Комната Страхов----by Ловец снов

לקרוא א"כ

?






http://glitterati.illuminatedtext.c...cepolitics.html



"מיה אחת"



הרעיון הוא כזה: לל ולרייטו יש מערכת יחסים.

ל מחליט שזה לא יעבוד ומסיים אותה, רייטו מאוד ממורמר, הורג המון אנשים ומאיים לרצוח את כל מי שנחשד בקשר רומנטי עם

ל. ל ורייטו פותחים בקרב התנצחויות עד הסוף הטוב בו יפלו זה לזרועות זה (כלומר, יכנסו למיטה. חמוד מאוד



http://mousapelli.livejournal.com/39480.html



http://mousapelli.livejournal.com/39730.html



http://mousapelli.livejournal.com/39964.html



http://mousapelli.livejournal.com/40440.html



http://mousapelli.livejournal.com/40694.html



Bill’s getting huge,” Arthur replied with a laugh. “He’s talking all the time now, babbling like Dumbledore…and Molly’s more than halfway through producing another one!”



“Honestly, Arthur,” Sirius snorted. “Take a breather in between or Molly’s going to put a cork in you!”



Remus wondered if Sirius had any normal relatives at all. And exactly what part of Arthur Molly would cork. And if there was any chance of him tearing his eyes away from the flex of Sirius' arm muscles as he dug around the innards of the amplifier.





Eventually James discovered the practicing, and it devolved into Sirius accompanying James’ loud rendition of “A Wizard’s Staff has a Knob on the End”, a pub song which James had once taught one of McGonagall's parrots to sing and subsequently been kicked out of Transfigurations for.



Remus discovered that if the sound of the guitar made him shiver, the feel of the guitar vibrating with the chord was nearly unbearable. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his excitement in the ‘acceptable’ range. It was clearly a losing battle.



“I like GIRLS,” Remus reminded his erection harshly. It seemed to shake its head, and Remus blinked water out of his eyes.......

Whatever it was about to retort, Remus choked off the reply mercilessly.



Why're you asking me?" James shrugged. "I don't play anything."

"Aha," Sirius grinned, "but you don't have to in order to be our heartthrob lead vocalist!"

"Heartthrob, you say?" James raked a hand through his hair. "I like the sound of that!"





without incident, although one of Peter's drums changed back to a cauldron unexpectedly and nearly broke ......



"You read my stuff!" Remus finally managed, voice sharp as he tried frantically to remember whether he'd written anything incriminating lately.

"Yeah, some of it," Sirius admitted, at least looking sheepish about it. "You left that notebook you're always scribbling in on your bed and I took a peek…are you mad?"

Remus was angry, then wasn't, and changed his mind twice more before just asking Sirius what he'd thought about it.



Er. No pun intended



Peter glanced and forth between them with a furrowed brow.





Um, but we…" James started.

"I can't believe McGonagall said yes!" Peter interrupted him.

"Yes, but…" James tried again.

"After last year, she said she'd do anything that would keep us four occupied for the whole Ball," Remus replied, shooting a sharp glare towards Sirius.

"Oi!" James raised his voice.

"She can't prove a thing!" Sirius interrupted him loudly. "It could've been anybody with that Inebriation Charm and they shouldn't have left that cauldron of punch just sitting out like that…"

"WE'VE ONLY GOT ONE SONG!" James finally roared



I knew it!" Peter exclaimed, looking supremely pleased with himself. "So that's why you've been sneaking into Moony's bed every night!"

"What?" James asked, looking startled.



I can write slow songs too," Sirius grumbled after a few moments, more to himself than Remus. "Just haven't tried yet, is all."

* * * * * *

True to his word, Sirius set to work writing a slow song, and within several night sessions he had produced two and a half more fast rock songs, plus one wireless jingle for Zonko's.





I haven't the faintest idea and it's driving me mad," James looked disgusted. "It's not like him to be hooked up on one person so long either. She must be fantastic. I wonder where he's hiding her?"

"Maybe it's not a girl," Remus blurted out before he could stop himself, then stopped mid-shred, horrified at what he'd just said.

"Course it's a girl," James waved him off. "He never gets this weird about anything but girls, not exams or Quidditch or anything…"

Remus relaxed slightly as





"Just nerves, then," James slapped Remus on the back as he got up. "It'll be fine, you'll see. The trick is to imagine that everybody in the audience is in their underwear."

.........

Years later, his first students never did find out why their teacher spent the whole class trying to smother an embarrassed grin.







Meanwhile, Sirius was taking out his own case of nerves on every First Year in sight, regardless of house, hexing them with everything from the much-loved Bat Bogey to something new which made the victim profess his undying love to the nearest person of the same gender. Irritation began to overshadow lust as Remus spent more and more time convincing Lily that expelling him wouldn't help, just make him go freelance.

"It was just cruel of you to cast it while Gilderoy was standing next to Severus!" he snapped after he'd cornered Sirius in the common room.





It was every bit as bad as he had feared. His jeans, a much darker blue than Sirius', fit him like a second skin, and the dark green T-shirt clung to his wiry frame. The look had fit Sirius perfectly, who would show off his admittedly pleasing body under any pretext, but was absolutely mind-blowing on Remus, if for no other reason than because the change was so startling. Remus had spent seven years cultivating a wardrobe which let him hide his body in shapeless obscurity; under the thin fabric hugging his torso, the nearly supernatural ripple of muscle under skin was breathtakingly obvious.



I'm a sex god, Remus thought gloomily as he scrutinized himself in the mirror. If Sirius only had two hormones to rub together I'd be in trouble. I'm going to have to beat him off with a stick.

"No pun intended," he snarled out loud.





and dire warnings from McGonagall about what they were not to play ("If I hear so much as the opening bar of that 'Wizard's Staff' song…").









"Better show them then," Sirius grinned. "And now for the traditional count: a-one…a-two…a-one two three four!"



Once the first chords washed through Remus, loud and pure, his nerves died down to a dull buzz and he threw himself into the song. Sirius faded back slightly after starting them off, letting James take center stage, and Remus glanced at him from time to time, memorizing his scowl of fierce concentration and the way his body curled around his guitar perfectly, as if neither he nor it had been made for anything else.



Remus started when the song finished and the people on the floor applauded enthusiastically. He'd practically forgotten there even was a crowd, forgotten the whole band idea was for anybody but them. He barely had time to remember before Sirius was driving them into the next song, and Remus, the adrenaline finally starting to take hold, followed him willingly.





he was already playing, and Remus was right there with him, his fingers moving over the strings in a rhythm he could have played in his sleep.

"Bet no one can cut you like me, and I'll twist the knife so deep…"

Sirius' voice was not as smooth as James, but it had a depth James lacked, a tone made out of power rather than finesse. Remus recognized pieces of Padfoot's growl in it, its gravelly throb what Remus had been echoing from the beginning. He rose to the challenge, his bass thrumming with an intensity he'd never had during a practice.

"Take shelter till it all blows over, go back to being one more shoulder…"

Remus had known the song was going to be about him, there was really no other plausible reason why Sirius would have wanted to work on it alone. He hadn't expected it to be this good. He hadn't expected to press against Sirius' back like he had at that very first practice just so he could keep from watching the glittery seduction that was Sirius and his eyeliner and his guitar and his jeans, all humming with a song that was only for him.





"You said you wouldn't speak to me for a week if James and I didn't leave Regulus alone. We didn't…and then you didn't."

"You fell in love with me because I stopped speaking to you for a week in Third Year?" Remus asked incredulously.

"You don't make idle threats," Sirius clarified wryly. "That's a big turn on in my family."



"I could make you, you know it," he said fiercely. "I should, there's a war about to start. We could all be dead by next year and you want to whine about forever? I could take you right here in the snow and you wouldn't stop me." Remus made a soft noise and closed his eyes, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. "I'm not going to, but I could. You always have to make everything so hard."



What's the thing James says? Remus thought to himself as he watched the muscles of Sirius' back and ass slide underneath his clothes. 'I hate to see her leave, but I do love to watch her go…'

Господи боже мой какая красота!

главное в делах античных - .........................................

еще раз. вот здесь. сейчас. под деревьями. лежат. полуголые. люди, герои, цари и боги.

попробуй понять, ты же сама философ. это просто, как удар сердца.

античный взгляд

- это способность лежать полуголым под деревом, будучи богом.

- это способность оставаться царем, лежа полуголым под деревом.

- и это способность допустить, как нечто само собой разумеющееся, что лежащий под деревом полуголый человек может запросто оказаться богом......................................

первый раз услышала

"in most cases, freebsd is like a wigwam -- no windows, no gates, apache inside"

Kurt Vonnegut

Je t'aime... moi non plus

serge gainsbourg + jane birkin

The Doors - Riders on the Storm

http://www.kaschenko.ru/ShMuZ/viewtopic.php?t=195



fun





http://absurdopedia.wikia.com/wiki/%D0%9A%D0%BE%D1%82



Кот Шрёдингера — название физического парадокса, при котором из закрытой коробки можно получить одновременно живого и мертвого кота (или двух по-разному мертвых котов, если никто не позаботится о кормёжке для животного).



В исходной модели Шрёдингера подразумевалась возможность наличия только квантовых состояний.







предположению некоторых экспертов, получивший сенсационную известность Чеширский кот являлся одним из немногих котов Шрёдингера, не скрывающих применение своих способностей. В таком случае замеченный «эффект остающейся улыбки» может являться следствием снижения вероятности оптического взаимодействия в процессе перехода или метастабильным «отпечатком», появляющимся при переходе кота в «длинноволновую» (или «туннелирующую») форму.

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http://gekant.livejournal.com/46152.html

на долгое потом

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Т.е., в юности-ранней молодости внимание акцентируется на чувственнной-сюрреалистической достоевской составляющей, чуть постарше - начинаешь обращать внимание на точность некоторой части (некоторой!) его социальных и психологических построений, берёшь взаймы опыт, которого у тебя нет. А вот в возрасте "за 30 и старше" у меня пропал к нему интерес, т.к. я начал совсем неэмоционально понимать содержание написаного, то содержание, на которое раньше попросту не обращал внимания, т.к. акценты были смещены... читать дальшеТеперь, когда его эмоциональное авторское эго на меня отчего-то действовать перестало, опыта в реале у меня давно больше, чем было у него )) и взаймы мне от него брать уже нечего, интеллектуальная его составляющая оказалась с моей точки зрения не так чтоб интересной, а зачастую попросту неумной Неумный он мужик был. Но эмоциональный. Для литературы - нормально. )) Сюрреализм имеет право существовать. Тем более, если уж не лукавить, исполнение мастерское.

.



начинает бесить отсутствием корректной дистанции

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Так ведь русская литература - дворянская. Мало того, она аристократическая в основном. А западная по характеру недворянская, для аристократии же заниматься писательством романов и повестушек было делом неприличным. Тем более зарабатывать себе этим на жизнь. Поэтому ту литературу писали профессиональные писатели-ремесленники, а эту - великие дилетанты. Целый ряд из них безусловно гениален. Но вот эту высокомерную надзидательность аристократов или мельтешащее лизоблюдство мелкопоместных из неё не вытравишь. Тот же самый Салтыков - гениальный писатель, но совершенный барин. И Тургенев. И Толстой. И неоспоримо гениальнейший Пушкин. И совсем негениальный Некрасов. А потом баре физически исчезли, но традиция осталась. -------------------



Салтыков - первого ранга. ) И Лесков тоже. Они просто плохо поддаются переводу, Салтыков вообще в переводе смысл теряет, оч. российски-специфичен. Поэтому не вошли в мировую литературу, хотя по калибру, на мой взгляд, как минимум стоят рядом.



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А закордонные белые воротнички как были недворянскими, так и остались. И отношение к жизни и людям на улице у них соотв. отличается, никто себя в совесть нации не зачисляет по этому признаку











задето чувство стыдливости - Вам неприятно видеть обнаженную, ничем не приукрашенную человеческую душу, вот Вы и приписываете автору отсутствие собственного достоинства т.е. самообнажение. Это понятно и совершенно естественно, но тем не менее - неверно









http://kot-shred.livejournal.com/135963.html