Beloved, how much of a blog can be brought from one place to another?

Ah, just as much as can make me feel at home...

This remains funny.

This was written to Brunnelleschi from Giovanni di Gherardo da Prato It's a lovely sonnet

O you deep fountain, pit of ignorance, You miserable beast and imbecile, Who thinks uncertain things can be made visable: There is no substance to your alchemy. The fickle mob, eternally decieved In all its hope, may still believe you, but never will you, worthless nobody, Make that come true which is impossible. So if the Badalon, your water bird, Were ever finished-which can never be- I would no longer read on Dante at school But finish my existence with my hand For surelyyou are mad. you hardly know Your own profession. Leave us, please, alone.

Just makes you wanna find a way to put that in your paper ...