I do apologise but I won't say anything special about mine, butI'd like to share with you an artistic video that I discovered these two past months and that I particularly liked.
This
video is based on visions of woman's body according the male's view
which has been turned into the metaphor of a 'crème caramel'.
I personally found this video brilliant, beautiful and full of sensuality.
Every details have been well considered to create an erotic ideal.
I also liked the wink given to the french band -La femme- at the end.
Anyone
likes looking at beautiful things , even though sometimes they don't
know why they find them beautiful so let's have a look on it with this
link down below !
My nick name is still Teddy Bear,
I'm 17, I'm a boarder at this college and this year is a bit boring: I
want to be at my house every evenings to be alone, because I can't
stand anymore the rules at this boarding school.
Even though
early this yearthis is pretty cool, it will be more difficult
than last year about lessons but it's motivating because we will go out
if we have our BAC!
Otherwise,
I love boxing, smoking, chilling, chilling and chilling ahah.
Don't
forget to speak about the english language, it is very cool and simple.
Now I will talk to you about the TV series named
Dexter.
I think that everyone knows this series because it is very cool
and weird at the same time.
I love this series because it's not common,
generally a lot of series are about love and not about murders and this
is this thing that I like in this series.
There is a lot of suspense in each episode and that makes me want to see all the seasons.
If you've never seen Dexter, I tip you off to see it!
Nightlife in Cardiff, as seen by Polish photographer Maciej Dakowicz.Photograph: Maciej Dakowicz/Barcroft Media
“The thing that drives me crazy about your country,” says João
Magueijo, polishing off another razor clam, “is the showers. I love cold
showers. But this doesn’t exist in the UK. It’s been a source of
irritation for years. Just warm or hot! What if you don’t like it? What
are you supposed to do?”
He fishes his phone from his pocket and brings up a picture of a sign
he saw on a visit to a university gym recently. It is a diagram of a
communal shower, showing the temperature at which each unit is set.
“Each shower is a prefixed temperature!” he says incredulously,
his Portuguese accent thickening slightly as the excitement overtakes
him. “There’s no cold water in sports centres!” As I’m trying to think
of something to say, he jabs the phone at me again, a man longing to be
understood. “The temperature is fixed! You can’t adjust it!” he repeats.
“You don’t see why this is weird?”
Magueijo is not finished. In fact, he is barely even started. And he
does not sound much like a theoretical physician, which is what he is.
Until recently, he was best known for his studies in cosmology,
undertaken in 25 years at Cambridge and Imperial College. Above all, he
is renowned for his work towards demonstrating that the speed of light
is variable. This week, though, that lofty achievement has been
displaced, at least for a while, by something rather less cerebral: a
short book explaining why we Brits are a bunch of sex-mad, pissed-up,
overweight hooligans and snobs. At the launch party, the publisher told
guests: “When Byron was in Portugal, he wrote some very uncomplimentary
things. Well, it took 200 years, but the reply has arrived.”
According to Magueijo, the article pointed out, Britain is “one of
the most rotten societies in Europe, possibly the world”. British homes
are less clean than “my grandmother’s poultry cage”. Our diet is
“deplorable” and fish and chips is a dish that “makes you want to wash
it with detergent before eating”. The north is “hideous”, the class
system the source of “reciprocal fear and hate”. And then there’s the
drinking, and the shagging, illustrated through a number of eye-popping
anecdotes involving projectile vomit (the author’s own, over the wife of
a fellow of St John’s College, Cambridge) [...]. “I never
met such a group of animals,” Magueijo concludes. “The English are
unrestrained wild beasts and totally out of control.” This is not,
incidentally, his first controversial literary output: when he was 16,
he was kicked out of school for writing a rude essay about the
headmistress. You cannot help wondering what his colleagues at Imperial
will make of it.
He complains bitterly that this is an incomplete account, leaving out
vital qualifications and counterpoints and, as we shall see, he may
have a point. The aftermath has been, Magueijo says, quite a ride. He
has declined to be photographed, rather to my surprise – he is a
good-looking, confident man, with a youthful zip that belies his 47
years, and plainly not a shrinking violet. “Well,” he says, “this was
already a very tense thing, to do this interview. I’ve had a very
difficult week. The level of the emails … you wake up and there are 100
new ones in your mailbox, and half of them are basically abuse. Threats
of violence, or ‘Fuck you, wanker’, or ‘Go back where you belong’.”
This sounds horrible, and perhaps it makes Magueijo regret putting
himself in the firing line. Not a bit of it, he says: he’s just giving
us a taste of our own medicine. “A lot of those things are real. I’m not
apologising for it. It was a joke, but it’s a fair one. The whole
travelogue culture, about the poor English person who has horrible
things happening to him – everything is foul, the food is horrible,
people are trying to steal from you – it’s your culture. You are such
easy targets. It’s the easiest book I’ve ever written. I wrote the first
draft in three weeks.”
In any case, he adds, the idea that he’s an outsider is not exactly
right. And perhaps his sense of this tells us something about national
pride, and self-criticism, and what it really means to belong. “I’ve
lived in your country for 25 years,” he points out. There’s a pause.
“Our country. Let’s call it our country.”
João Magueijo has lived in Britain for 25 years.Photograph: PR/PR
As João Magueijo is British, so Lucy Pepper, a writer and
illustrator who moved from the UK to a village near Lisbon in 1999, is
Portuguese. All the same, she retains some affection for the old
country, and she finds the academic’s version of it unconvincing. As a
columnist for a Lisbon newspaper, whose work often takes aim at
Portugal’s own foibles, she has something at stake. “I’m a fan of the
book’s right to exist,” she says. “But I’m not a fan of the book. Like,
he says the British class system is so much more rotten than the
Portuguese one. In Portugal class is much simpler, but it’s just as
divisive. I wrote, ‘What the fuck?’ after that paragraph.”
She is unimpressed, too, by the one-country publication strategy. “I
knew he wasn’t going to put it out in England, which I think is extreme
cowardice on his part. If you’re going to say awful things about a
country, you should front up and do it in their language.”
She does agree with some bits, though, like the complaint about
drinking – that British men “have to drink like sponges, eat like
skeletons, and throw up everything at the end of the evening”. Pepper is
sipping on a beer with Tom Davis, an expat entrepreneur, and Nelson
Vassalo, a Portuguese graphic designer. They’re in Mercado da Ribeira,
where half of what was the biggest market in Lisbon has been converted
into an elegant food hall with a few dozen kiosks and drinks stands,
hundreds of enthusiastic customers, and absolutely no trouble – a neat
counterpoint to the fearful cliches of a British night out.
Nor, they all say, is trouble ever as likely a consequence of
drinking in Lisbon as it is in London or Liverpool. “People here do it
slowly but surely,” Davis says. “They drink steadily through the night,
and they wind up happy-drunk, rather than falling-over-vomiting drunk.”
Vassalo agrees: “The Brits who come to our country, to the Algarve,
these kids are getting wasted like crazy.”. “I wouldn’t enjoy a night
like those, man.” Even the new students I’ve seen earlier, merrily
winding through town with drinks in hand, seem to be taking things
gently.
Vassalo’s not read it himself, but the book is a big hit in Portugal,
with 20,000 sales already, a significant number in a small country.
This may seem strange to a British audience, which perceives no special
connection between the two nations, but in Lisbon it makes sense. “It’s a
really deep-rooted thing that we’re each other’s oldest allies,” Davis
explains – a fact known by very few in the UK.
“We have a big focus in our history class on all that,” adds Vassalo.
“The British kingdom comes along pretty early on.” Then there’s the
knotty question of the impact of Anglophilia and -phobia, and how the
two mingle and complicate each other. “A lot of people don’t like us,”
says Pepper. “But they like the culture we come out with. They like
Britpop. They like Fawlty Towers.”
Portuguese cultural exports to the UK, on the other hand, are not so
big, unless you count Nando’s, which, delicious though it is, is not
even really Portuguese anyway. So maybe the attention the book has
garnered is partly the product of something like the little-brother
syndrome that plagues so many Brits about America: better to be hated
than be the object of benign, ignorant indifference. Or, as the woman
picking up a copy from the prominent display in Bertrand, the world’s
oldest bookshop, puts it: “You may not want to know about us, but we
want to know about you!”
But let’s say, I propose in the market, that a British writer planned
a similar hit on Portugal, an act of beefy revenge. What would they
focus on? One idea seems to turn up often: the suggestion that social
conservatism and the limited ambitions of a generation that was simply
relieved not to be living under a rightwing nationalist dictatorship
(that lasted until 1974) have left the country short on creativity. “I
hear a lot of, ‘We don’t do that here’,” says Pepper, who is in her 40s.
“People of my age and older, there’s no openness to novelty.” For his
twenty- and thirtysomething peers, Vassalo says, that has changed: the
economic crisis has forced innovation on anyone who wants to stay put.
But he agrees about the generation above. “They get comfortable, enjoy
the sun, whatever,” he says. “I do believe that for [Magueijo’s]
generation it was extremely important to get out of here. We don’t need
to, because life is hard enough for us.”
A night out in Lisbon is rather more sedate than its British equivalent.Photograph: Thomas Meyer/ Thomas Meyer/Demotix/Corbis
The evening breaks up. Some hours later, at about three in the
morning, a raucous chant goes up from a group of those freshers outside
my hotel in Lisbon’s absurdly lovely Rossio Square. I peer out of the
window in time to see one of them cheerfully pursuing a car down the
road before falling flat on her face. Perhaps we are not all that
different, after all.
The funny thing is, João Magueijo agrees with his young countryman’s
analysis. That is exactly why he was so infuriated by the coverage his
book has received in the UK. “I’m not saying what’s there is unfair,” he
goes on. “But it’s only half of it.
“The other half is that your country has an incredible creative vibe.
Not just in science, but in music, in art, in poetry – and that comes
from the bad things. Life is so miserable, you have to do something just
not to commit suicide. You punch someone in the face, it’s the same
thing that leads you to write a beautiful poem.”
I have never really thought of this, and I don’t know if I agree, but
I suppose it just about makes sense – a notion that may be more obvious
to an outsider than an old hand.Although, as Magueijo and I have
already discussed, he is not really an outsider any more. “No one got
it,” he adds, “but in the book it says that I am a mongrel. After all
these years, you aren’t one thing or another, you’re something
in between.”
He first became aware of it when he got a cab outside Lisbon airport,
and tried to climb into the driver’s seat. “Oh shit,” he thought. “I’ve
changed.” These days, he finds foreigners’ inability to pick up the
obscure signals of British nuance as infuriating as Basil Fawlty might.
“Hints just don’t exist in Latin culture,” he moans. “Of course, in
England, people think I’m very abrupt. But when I’m abroad, I drop
hints, and no one picks them up.”
If this is all true, it seems an odd way to show your allegiance –
writing a book in a foreign language that tells another country how
horrible we are. Magueijo cocks his head and smiles ruefully. “Well,” he
says, “when I was about to finish the book, I felt so bad about what I
was doing that I actually joined the Royal Astronomical Society, and the
Institute of Physics. It’s meant to be a big moment in your career, but
I’d never bothered.” To Magueijo’s mind, his flair as a scientist is
the product of his mongrel nature: native enthusiasm, and what he sees
as a British willingness to look foolish. “I have this Portuguese
exuberance when I do science ... but I am part of this tradition now.”
It’s a funny thing. In the end, the moment that Magueijo gave up our
secrets was the moment he realised he belonged.
The Queen with Princes Philip and Charles at the Highland Games and (right) leaving 2012's Thistle c[GETTY/AP]
Her
Majesty said she had an "enduring love of Scotland" which was shared
with both the Yes and No sides of the debate and that would "unite" is
all.
The 88-year-old also applauded the country's "robust
democratic tradition" after a turnout of 84.5 per cent in the Scottish
independence referendum.
The Queen had awoken in Aberdeenshire's
Balmoral Castle this morning to find 55 per cent of Scots had voted in
favour of staying part of the UK.
In a statement, the monarch
said: "Now, as we move forward, we should remember that despite the
range of views that have been expressed, we have in common an enduring
love of Scotland, which is one of the things that helps to unite us all.
"Knowing
the people of Scotland as I do, I have no doubt that Scots, like others
throughout the United Kingdom, are able to express strongly-held
opinions before coming together again in a spirit of mutual respect and
support, to work constructively for the future of Scotland and indeed
all parts of this country."
The Queen said the outcome of the referendum followed many "months of discussion, debate, and careful thought".
She added: "It is a result that all of us throughout the United Kingdom will respect.
"For
many in Scotland and elsewhere today, there will be strong feelings and
contrasting emotions - among family, friends and neighbours.
"That,
of course, is the nature of the robust democratic tradition we enjoy in
this country. But I have no doubt that these emotions will be tempered
by an understanding of the feelings of others."
Her Majesty also pledged to help Scotland work constructively for the future.
Her
statement will be seen as part of the process of reconciliation
following the heated debate by both sides during the referendum.
The Queen sits with a quilted Prince Charles at the Braemar Highland Games [GETTY]
Any suggestion that the Queen would wish to influence the
outcome of the current referendum campaign is categorically wrong. Her
Majesty is simply of the view this is a matter for the people of
Scotland
Buckingham Palace spokesperson
The monarch, who is popular in
Scotland, faced the prospect of becoming Elizabeth I of Scotland or even
Elizabeth, Queen of Scots, if the historic vote had gone the other
sway. But with even graver questions facing the Queen's role as
the head of state in an independent Scotland now swept aside, she will
now go down in history as the monarch whose reign avoided the Union's
fracture. She was fittingly in Scotland at her own private home,
Balmoral in Aberdeenshire, when she learned that the 307-year-old union
of which she is sovereign remains unbroken. As a 27-year-old, her
coronation more than 60 years ago was a deeply religious service in
Westminster Abbey, during which she took a solemn oath to "govern the
peoples of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland". Even
her coronation gown hinted at the importance of the Union, with
intricate embroidery centring on the four emblems of the UK - the rose,
the shamrock, the leek and the thistle.
It was seen by many as
poignant that the Queen was at her Scottish home, where she spends the
summer months each year, when the people of Scotland turned down the
chance of independence. She is currently flanked by her husband,
the Duke of Edinburgh, with the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of
Cornwall also nearby at Birkhall, which sits on the estate. The
Queen's links to Scotland are strong and her Scottish heritage has been
an important part of her life. Her mother, Queen Elizabeth the Queen
Mother, hailed from an ancient aristocratic Scottish family. The
annual Ghillies Ball, which she hosts for staff at Balmoral, was moved
from polling day to today amid suggestions the switch was done to allow
staff to vote in the referendum. After previous reports that the
Queen had urged Scottish voters to "think carefully" before casting
their ballot, Buckingham Palace issued a statement maintaining that she
was above politics. "Any suggestion that the Queen would wish to
influence the outcome of the current referendum campaign is
categorically wrong. Her Majesty is simply of the view this is a matter
for the people of Scotland," the Palace said. Ukip leader Nigel
Farage argued that the Queen should intervene, saying: "If the United
Kingdom itself is under threat, then in many ways you could argue she
has a responsibility to say something."
The Queen is said to be never happier than when at Balmoral [GETTY]
While
the Queen may have breathed a sigh of relief today, doubt remains over
the future of her role in the wake of the Prime Minister's announcement
of a new constitutional settlement for Scotland and the rest of the UK. The Queen remains publicly neutral when it comes to political matters, due to her constitution. Any
statement today will be carefully timed to ensure all political leaders
have already made their comments on the outcome, as well as carefully
worded. Following Australia's referendum on the monarchy in 1999,
when the country voted against establishing a republic, the Queen said
in a written statement on results day that she respected and accepted
the result. She spoke of her deep affection for Australia, pledging "faifthfully to serve" as Queen of Australia to the best of her ability. During the Queen's Jubilee year of 1977 there were growing calls for power to be devolved to Scotland and Wales. The
Queen made her views clear in a speech to both houses of Parliament
when she said she understood the aspirations of Scotland and Wales: "But
I cannot forget that I was crowned Queen of the United Kingdom of Great
Britain and Northern Ireland.
Queen Elizabeth II leaves after a service of commemoration at Crathie Kirk Church [GETTY]
"Perhaps
this Jubilee is a time to remind ourselves of the benefits which union
has conferred, at home and in our international dealings, on the
inhabitants of all parts of this United Kingdom." Almost 40 years after the Queen made that pledge, Scotland decided it to agree with her. The
Queen has a life-long love of Scotland. She is descended from Mary,
Queen of Scots, James I, who was James VI of Scotland, and Robert the
Bruce, who secured Scotland's independence from England. Even her
husband's title connects her to Scotland - the Duke of Edinburgh. On
their marriage, Princess Elizabeth also became the Duchess of Edinburgh. She
is reportedly never happier than when she is at Balmoral where the
royals spend their time riding, fishing or walking. It is her private
home and was handed down to her through generations of royals. It
was bought for Queen Victoria by Prince Albert in 1852, but the original
15th century castle was thought too small, so Prince Albert built a new
one. Birkhall, the private residence of the Prince of Wales and
the Duchess of Cornwall in Scotland, is a favourite hideaway for Charles
and Camilla and on occasion for the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge.
