anythingarian bubbles and troubles from the land of the sweating hun
Nodier was a distinguished bibliophile and member of the Académie Française who ran the library at the Parisian Arsenal, which, according to Musset, was where romanticism set up shop. (Émile de Girardin says in Mme de Girardin that Hugo, like everyone else, fell in love with Mrs and called her Notre-Dame de l’Arsenal.) His novel [...]
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IT a profession for generally peaceful, libertarian innovators sans frontières? Not in Andalusia, where they’re demonstrating with the ultimate goal of excluding those without the correct government diploma. The OECD wants flexible labour markets. Spain wants guilds. Yet I’m sure this kind of thing must happen somewhere else–Gordimer would surely have had some if there’d been any around–so maybe we should kill that chorus of “Only in Spain”.
CC says that Telva says that Jaume Plensa is simply panting to design some sets for Verdi’s Macbetch. I blame Telva’s legions of copy editors this time–they get Toulouse wrong too–but there’s no reason why not: “So this is the story of Lady Macbitch and her husband. The Queen stimulates herself with the props of power, [and] domination is a kind of remote masturbation.” This was before Angela Merkel came to office, of course.
Geo-sensitive porn chat ads cope as well with multi-key characters as the average wanker. I doubt not that Cornell University is a chattering of cheeky chicas, but at this time of year the weather’s rather better in Cornellá, Barcelona. Not that I’m in Cornellà, but you get the picture, and if you don’t then I can always mail you it, Ian and David.
For a long time I’ve avoided the centre of town, where the keywords are minuscule and mediocre, but even in quieter districts it’s difficult to find a decent traditional menu for a sensible price. Ca la Flor (Secretari Coloma 10, metro Joanic) is just the job: €8.50 for three generous home-cooked courses with free-flowing booze, and good cheap coffee and shots afterwards. The service from Flor and Mr in the kitchen is friendly and rapid, something quite exceptional in Barcelona. To my unsophisticated palate the quality is comparable with the nearby Yaya Amelia (Sardenya 364), and you pay a fraction of the price. You also get to watch the Simpsons and there are no pretty Catalan tiles or other useless crap like that. Highly recommended.
On Facebook, Trevor is somewhat weary from the night's exertions.
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