Riaan en Kari Doorduin: Mei 2011

22 Mei 2011

Anglisismes

Dalk onthou van julle nog so dik bybel genaamd "Afrikaans my taal". Sjoe... as my kleurblindheid my nie in die steek laat nie was dit so vaal groene... Daar was 'n hoofstuk met iets oor anglismes. Nou ja... ek onthou bitter min van die lesse, behalwe dat Mnr. Riaan van Lill, 'n paar oulikes gehad het wat my nogsteeds bybly. Elke keer as ek 'n soortgelyke een hoor dan kan ek nie help vir Mnr. van Lill aan te haal nie: "Sopas ge-arriveer by die busstop op die paffement..."

So SMS skoonma my 'n artikel in Die Burger (17/03/2011): "geprivilegieerd"...
Nouja... :-)

Welgevonden 40 se vuurmaakplek

Ons het 'n rustige naweek gehad, nie te veel gedoen nie, net Saterdag oggend gou 'n koffie met Bob gaan drink. Paar fittings gaan koop en die wasmasjiene opgekoppel, by Guillaume en Christine gaan middagete ge-eet en plaas verken, Starwars se laaste episode gekyk. Sondag oggend kerk toe, 'n fliek waarteen die kerk waarsku gekyk, internet moontlikhede ondersoek en....
... die kaggelvuur ingelyf met heerlike rooiwyntjie...

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"Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind." -Albert Einstein

"He who cannot draw on 3000 years is living from hand to mouth." -Goethe

"When confronted with a work of art, we have to open our minds to allow it to carry us away. If we seek to relate intimately to another person, we have to be prepared to make ourselves vulnerable.." - Karen Armstrong

I wanted to live everywhere and smell, taste, feel everything. I wanted to go to sea, explore unknown lands, take off in a space rocket, dine only at all-you-can-eat restaurants, be the last to leave parties. What I couldn’t acknowledge then, and hardly now, is that life just isn’t like that for most of us. The quicksands of suburbia were lurking at every step, and those who broke on through to the sunlit uplands couldn’t find their way back, even when the poverty and lack of enthusiasm for climbing means they wanted to come back. It was the dream of an immature young man, which is exactly what I was.
My eyes would be drawn inevitably to the low ridge of purple hills that ringed the east side of Manchester. The weight of the city; of all those people moving on their tiny arcs across its concrete streets, would be lifted for a moment. That place, over there in those hills, was somewhere I could feel alive, where the moment of release could give me the clarity to understand unconsciously that poetry, prophecy, and religion are all one.

- Ed Douglas: Voices from the Summit, 2000