tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post4841532218466349364..comments2023-11-28T09:02:03.742+01:00Comments on The Seneca Effect: How Resource Depletion Leads to Collapse. The Story of a Lost KingdomUgo Bardihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18231859786466899924noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-43376298287756948632021-04-19T12:56:19.958+02:002021-04-19T12:56:19.958+02:00Everything that exists has a reason to exist. So, ...Everything that exists has a reason to exist. So, "The Golden Expedition" may have a reason to exist in the grand scheme of the universe. Who knows? Maybe it is a ciphered message from the Aliens of Betelgeuse!Ugo Bardihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18231859786466899924noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-82252804169644656322021-04-19T12:09:00.016+02:002021-04-19T12:09:00.016+02:00Obviously yes!
Obviously yes!<br />Ugo Bardihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18231859786466899924noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-89686844495914361122021-04-19T05:55:32.312+02:002021-04-19T05:55:32.312+02:00That should not have been published. Editors exist...That should not have been published. Editors exist for a reason, and that's an example of why.Art Decohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12955243137081184262noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-35632703382077700342021-04-17T23:38:50.681+02:002021-04-17T23:38:50.681+02:00That must have been self-published.That must have been self-published.Hesten Ricehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01760303209594111831noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-47529072412098679722021-04-11T16:24:45.690+02:002021-04-11T16:24:45.690+02:00An excerpt, but it doesn't really reflect the ...An excerpt, but it doesn't really reflect the unbelievable dullness of the whole thing. <br /><br />As I walk up to the entrance to be kindly greeted by the handsome receptionist in a blue and gold embroidered suit, the silk pink and brown curtains flow in the wind to wrap around me. I was just about to say Hi, when the softness of the curtained door just had me in a trance. The handsome receptionist named Ahabuk, lean and muscular, tan with light green eyes brushed the silk curtains that engulfed me off to the side with a sweet sensual touch that had chills and a sigh run through me as I gazed into his eyes and all my train of thoughts just ceased for the moment. He said to me, “Miss, are these your bags?”, as the taxi driver dropped them off at the front desk before me. I fumbled with my words, as I caught a small drool at the side of my lips, “oh yes”, in an extended form of the phrase while staring deep into his eyes that were lingering to the rest of him. “Um, yes, yes, those are mine.” “I am the researcher you were expecting.”<br />“What room will I be staying in?”<br />Ahabuk politely responds “I have your room all set up.” “It will be the one through the hallway, to the right.” “It should be sufficient for your needs and expectations, I hope”, as he jilts a smile at me while his light green eyes twinkle in the moonlight. “oh”, I said as I brushed my brown long hair to one side of my shoulder, “<br />Ugo Bardihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18231859786466899924noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-87129131022979216592021-04-11T12:21:29.414+02:002021-04-11T12:21:29.414+02:00https://www.blurb.com/b/9219312-the-golden-expedit...https://www.blurb.com/b/9219312-the-golden-expedition-the-forgotten-garamantes-kin <br /><br />Maybe one of these days, I'll posts some excerpts. "The dessert of Libya" is an example among manyUgo Bardihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18231859786466899924noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-73871372216687363762021-04-10T13:34:44.295+02:002021-04-10T13:34:44.295+02:00Ozymandias
BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY
I met a trave...Ozymandias <br />BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY<br /><br />I met a traveller from an antique land,<br />Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone<br />Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,<br />Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,<br />And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,<br />Tell that its sculptor well those passions read<br />Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,<br />The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;<br />And on the pedestal, these words appear:<br />My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;<br />Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!<br />Nothing beside remains. Round the decay<br />Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare<br />The lone and level sands stretch far away.”<br />P Bakerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03951229588424591400noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1585995614037680457.post-26911585585798930272021-04-10T12:10:34.740+02:002021-04-10T12:10:34.740+02:00>I figure that if there existed a list of the w...>I figure that if there existed a list of the worst novels in history, this one would make it to the top (that's why I don't give you the link, but if you like to harm yourself, ask me privately!)<br /><br />Ugo, you can't leave us hanging with suspense like this :)Menucha nechonahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02548099909029404967noreply@blogger.com