Random amazing stuff

Have been surfing through the latest news of Asian pop-show-business, and stumbled over this [undoubtly amazing] picture.


Our favourite cute Japanese pop-idol Aya Ueto in kimono and the second most um... disturbing Korean boyz-band ever (forgot the name, alas) in uber-kool shoes.
Enjoy!

That's Dong Bang Shin Ki!!

I think I may have seen *one* of their early music videos, but that's it... LOL is all I can say.

XD I thought that it was DBSK!!!!

...

I mean...who?

Well, I know it's kinda cheating, neverlethless I decided it would amazing to write the message # 8000 on this forum... so here it is.

Amazing. Please read.

"...No, no, grandpa. You will forgive me, but I
think that it is your outraged feelings that still speak
in you. . . . You transfer your unfortunate experience
to the rest of mankind. Take Vasya and me, for
instance. You would not call our married life unfortu-
nate, would you?"

Anosov was silent for a long time. Then he said
slowly, almost unwillingly:

"Well... let us say... that you are an excep-
tion... But look, why do most people marry?
Take a woman. She is ashamed of remaining an old
maid when all her friends are married. She does not
want to remain a burden on her family, wants to be
independent, to live for herself... And then, of
course, there is the purely physiological necessity of
motherhood. Men have other motives. In the first
place, he is tired of single life, of lack of order in his
room, of restaurants, dirt, cigarette-stumps, torn
clothes, debts, unceremonious friends, and so on.
In the second place, it is better, healthier, and more
economical to live a family life. In the third place,
he thinks of the possible children, and says to himself:
'I shall die, but a part of me will still remain behind.' ...Something like the illusion of immortality.
Then, again, there is the temptation of innocence, as
with me, for instance. Sometimes men think of the
dowry. But where is love, disinterested, self-sacrific-
ing, expecting no reward — the love about which it has
been said that it is 'more powerful than death'?
Where is the love, for which it is joy, and not labor,
to make a sacrifice, give up life, surfer pains? Wait,
wait, Vera, I know that you are going to tell me about
your Vasya. Yes, I like him. He is a good fellow.
And, perhaps, in the future, his love will appear in
the light of great beauty. But, think of the kind of
love I mean. Love must be a tragedy, the greatest
mystery in the world ! No life comforts, calculations,
or compromises must ever affect it."

"Did you ever see such love, grandpa?" asked
Vera quietly.

"No," said the old man decisively. "I do know of
two cases somewhat like it, though. Still, one of them
was the result of foolishness, and the other... of
weakness. I'll tell you about them, if you like. It
won't take long."

"Please, grandpa."

"Well, the colonel of one of the regiments of our
division (not of mine, though) had a wife. The ugliest-
looking thing imaginable. Red-haired, and bony,
and long, and with a big, big mouth. . . . Plastering
used to come from her face, as though it were the wall
of an old Moscow residence. You know the kind:
temperamental, imperious, full of contempt for every-
body, and a passion for variety. A morphine fiend
into the bargain.

"Well, once, in the fall, a newly baked ensign was
sent to the regiment, a regular yellow-mouthed sparrow
just out of a military school. In a month's time, the
old mare had him under her thumb. He was her
page, and her servant, and her slave; always danced
with her, carried her fan and handkerchief, rushed out
into the cold to call her carriage. It is an awful thing
when a clean-minded and innocent boy lays his first
love at the feet of an old, experienced, and imperious
libertine. Even if he comes out unhurt, you can still
count him as lost. It's a stamp for life.

Toward Christmas, she was already tired of him.
She went back to one of her former passions. But
he couldn't give her up. He would trail her, like a
ghost. He grew thin and dark. Using exalted lan-
guage, 'death already lay upon his lofty brow.' He
was terribly jealous of everybody. It was said that
he used to stand for whole nights under her window.

Once, in the spring, their regiment had an outing
or a picnic. I knew both her and him personally,
although I was not present when it happened. As
usual everybody drank a good deal. They were
coming back on foot, along the railroad- tracks. Sud-
denly a freight-train appeared, coming toward them.
It was going up a steep slope, very slowly, signalling
all the time. And when the headlights were already
very near, she whispered in the ensign's ears: QYou
always say that you love me. And if I were to order
you to throw yourself under the train, I am sure you
wouldn't do it.' He never said a word, but rushed
right under the train. They say that he had calculated
correctly to land between the front and the rear wheels
of a car, so as to be cut in half, but some idiot started
holding him back. Only he wasn't strong enough
to pull the ensign off the rail, which he clutched with
his hands. So both of his hands were lopped off."

"How horrible !" exclaimed Vera.

"The ensign had to leave service. His friends got
a little money together and helped him go away.
He couldn't stay in the city and be a constant living
reproach to her and the whole regiment. And the
man was lost in the most scoundrelly manner; he
became a beggar and froze to death somewhere near
the Petersburg piers."

"The other case was really pitiful. The woman
was of the same sort as the other, only young and
pretty. And she behaved very, very badly. It
disgusted even us, although we were used to regard-
ing these home romances rather lightly. The hus-
band knew everything and saw everything, but never
said a word. His friends hinted about it, but he
just said: 'Oh, let it alone. It is none of my business.
As long as Lenochka is happy...' Such a jackass !

"Finally she tied up with Lieutenant Vishniakov,
a subaltern in their company. And so they lived,
two husbands and one wife — as though that were
the accepted form of wedlock. Then our regiment
was sent to war. Our ladies came to see us off, and it
was really a shame to look at her. Out of plain
decency, she might have looked at her husband at
least once. But no, she hung around her lieutenant's
neck, like the devil on a dead willow. When we were
in the train, she had the insolence to say to her hus-
band: 'Remember that you must take care of Volodya.
If anything should happen to him, I'll go away from
home and never come back. And I'll take the children
with me. '

"And you might think that this captain was some
weakling ? A rag ? A coward ? Not at all. As brave
a soldier as ever there was. At Green Mountain he
led his men six times to attack the Turkish redoubt.
Out of his two hundred men only fourteen remained.
He himself was wounded twice, and still refused to
go to the hospital. That's the kind of a fellow he
was. His men simply adored him.

But she told him. . . . His Lenochka told him!
And he looked after this coward and drone, Vish-
niakov, like a nurse, like a mother. At night, when
they had to sleep in the mud, he covered him with
his own coat. He used to take his place when it came
to sapper work, while the lieutenant stayed in bed or
played cards. At night he took his place at inspect-
ing the outposts. And at that time, Vera, the bashi-
bazouks cut down our pickets, as a peasant woman
cuts cabbage-heads. I tell you, we all heaved a sigh
of relief when we learned that Vishniakov died of
typhoid fever..."

"Grandpa, and have you met any women who
really loved?"

"Oh, yes, surely, Vera. And I'll say even more.
I am sure that every woman is capable of the loftiest
heroism in her love. When she kisses a man, embraces
him, becomes his wife, she is already a mother. If
she loves, love for her is the whole purpose of life, the
whole universe. It is not her fault that love has
assumed such disgusting forms and has become
degraded simply to a small amusement, a sort of
convenience. It is men's fault, for they become
satiated at twenty, and live on, with bodies like those
of chickens, and souls like those of hares, incapable
of powerful desires, of heroic deeds, of adoration
before love. People say that it was different before.
And if it wasn't, did not the best human minds and
souls dream of it — the poets, the novelists, the artists,
the musicians? A few days ago, I read the story of
Manon Lescaut and Cavalier de Grieux. . . . Would
you believe me that I wept over it ? Now tell me truly,
doesn't every woman, in her inmost soul, dream of
such a love, which is all-forgiving, modest, self-sacri-
ficing, self-denying?"

"Oh, surely, surely, grandpa..."

- Alexandr Kuprin, "The Bracelet of Garnets".

Thanks for that excerpt, summervie~~~
That was beautiful...an amazing insight into the human heart.
Very well written, as well

MaoMaoRevolution wrote:

That was beautiful...an amazing insight into the human heart.Very well written, as well

Yes,i agree with MaoMaoRevolution! and thanks summervie for the nice post
But i wonder is this book very popular now?
because my brother and one of my friends,both of them recommend me to read this book~but Alexandr Kuprin,is not famous at all
Excuse my ignorance,hehe

Batsuchan wrote:

That's Dong Bang Shin Ki!!

I think I may have seen *one* of their early music videos, but that's it... LOL is all I can say.

That first picture wasn't that bad after all.

Talking about real music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07T5KqSqVk0

Watch his face while he's singing. The name of the song is "You".
In the end where the vocals gets ~powerful~ he's like addressing himself to God. "You hear those [people], who we don't [hear] anymore. You see that [something],​ that we even can't think about. You walk there, where we hardly [will ever walk]..."​

Edit:
And no, his 'make-up' isn't a result of him being a fan of "The Dark Knight". He's just himself a good theatre actor, and this is like the reference to that his 'occupation'.

summervie wrote:

Talking about real music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07T5KqSqVk0

Watch his face while he's singing. The name of the song is "You".
In the end where the vocals gets ~powerful~ he's like addressing himself to God. "You hear those [people], who we don't [hear] anymore. You see that [something],​ that we even can't think about. You walk there, where we hardly [will ever walk]..."​

Edit:
And no, his 'make-up' isn't a result of him being a fan of "The Dark Knight". He's just himself a good theatre actor, and this is like the reference to that his 'occupation'.

I really like this song,I've seen him perfoming live, I'm sooo lucky
Another russian song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nladGBRG4U0 About the most famous russian drink, can you guess whta is it? Love this song)))