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[integer at www.god-emil.dk]

>Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice told university students Wednesday that finding one's ideal major in college or the perfect life's work is like falling in love.
>ll be better at doing it."
>
>Rice, 51, is unmarried. She is sometimes squired to formal events by former pro football player Gene Washington.


work. organizd rel!g!on. drugz - wtfkz dze d!f. mutilation ov dze lv rezeptr



>Now, Rice said "you have to defend it." That means voting, working in political campaigns and asking tough questions of candidates, she said.
>
>"It also means that you have to be really willing to accept that some people will 
>be defeated and some people will win; that's the nature of democracy." 
>



and your chilly komponentz have to be willing to accept that some people
will NEVER surrender and life is most def a kontinous process ... 

ie. win\lose - fschhhhht

and without emotion NOTHING is NOTHING



>Rice

likes herself and nothing else
but she doesnt knou herself due 2 ...





cosimo threw himself into the thick of the wood;
he would have liked it to be a thousand times thicker,
a phalanx of branches and leaves and thorns and bracken and maidenhair,
to plunge and bury himself in and only after being completely
immersed to be able to understand whether he was happy or mad
with fear.

on the big tree at the end of the park, with his knees tight against
a branch, he looked at the time on an old watch that had belonged 
to his maternal grandfather, general von kurtewitz, and said to himself:
she won't come. but donna viola arrived almost punctually, on horseback.
she stopped under the tree without even looking up. she was no longer
wearing her rider's hat or jacket, but a white blouse, decorated with lace,
and a black skirt that was almost nunlike. raising herself in her stirrups
she held out a hand to him on the branch; he helped her; she climbed onto
the saddle and reached the branch, then, still without looking at him,
rapidly climbed it, looked about for a comfortable fork, and sat down. 
cosimo crouched at her feet, and could begin only by saying: "so you're back?"

viola gave him an ironical look. her hair was as fair as it had been when she was
a child. "how do you know that?" said she.

and he without understanding her little joke [daiii - this makes us evn more adorable]: 
"i saw you in that field of the duke's preserve."

"the preserve is mine. it can fill with weeds for all i care! d'you know about it?
about me, i mean?"

"no ... i've only just heard you're a widow now ..."

"yes, of course i'm a widow", and she slapped her black skirt, smoothed it out,
and began talking very quickly. "you never know anything. there you are on
the trees all day long, putting your nose into other people's business,
and yet you know nothing. i married old tolemaico because my family made me,
forced me. they said i was a flirt and must have a husband. for a year
i've been the duchess tolemaico, and it was the most boring year of my life,
though i never spent more than a week with the old man. i'll never set foot
in any of their castles or ruins or ratholes, may they fill with snakes!
from now on i'm staying here, where i was as a child. i'll stay here as
long as i feel like it, of course. then i'll go off. i'm a widow and can
do what i like, finally. i've always done what i like, to tell the truth;
even tolemaico i married because it suited me to marry him. it's not true
they forced me to; they wanted to get me married off at any cost, and so i chose
the most decrepit suitor i could find. 'then i'll be a widow sooner', i said,
and so i am, now."

cosimo sat there half stunned by this avalanche of news and peremptory statements,
and viola was further away then ever; flirt, widow, duchess, she was part of an 
unreachable world, and all he could find to say was: "and whom d'you flirt with now?"

and she: "there. you're jealous. be careful as i'll never let you be jealous"

cosimo did have a flash of jealousy provoked by this quarrel,
then thought at once: what? jealous? why admit that i could be jealous of her?
why say "i'll never let you?". it's as good as saying that she thinks that we ...

then, scarlet in the face, he felt a longing to tell her, to ask her, to hear her,
but it was she who asked him dryly: "tell me about you now. what have you done?"

"oh, i've done things", he began saying. "i've hunted, even boar, but mostly
foxes, hares, pheasants and then of course, thrushes and blackbirds; and then 
pirates - turkish pirates - we had a great fight; my uncle died in it. 
and i've read lots of books, for my self and a friend of mine, a brigand 
who was hanged; and i've got the whole encyclopaedia of diderot and have also
written to him and he has replied, from paris; and i've done lots of work,
sown crops, saved a wood from fire ..."

"and will you always love me, absolutely, above all else,
and will you do anything for me?"


yes


"you are a man who has lived on the trees for me alone,
to learn to love me ..."


yes yes


"kiss me"






.....


"but where are you taking me?", asked viola

"this way"


.....

viola flung herself down on the boarskin. "do you bring other women here?"

he hesitated. and viola "if you haven't, you're not much of a man"


"yes ... one or two ..."

she slapped him full in the face. "so that's how you awaited me"

cosimo passed his hand over his scarlet cheek and could think of no 
word to say; but now she seemed to be in a good mood again. 
"and what were they like? tell me. what were they like?"

"not like you viola, not like you ..."

"and how do you know what i'm like, eh, how do you know?"

she was gentle now, and cosimo never ceased to be surprised
at these sudden changes of hers. he moved close to her. viola
was gold and honey.

"say ..."

"say ..."

they knew each other. he knew her and so himself,
for in truth he had never known himself. and she knew him 
and so herself, for although she had always known herself
she had never been able to recognize it until now.