Casbah Cafe 3900 W.Sunset Blvd. Silver Lake California 90029 casbahcafe@gmail.com
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
"North Korea is planning to launch what they're calling a rocket, but what the rest of the world calls a missile. And Hillary had to warn Kim Jong Il today, 'do not fire your missile.' Is it me, or is this a running theme in her life? --Bill Maher
"Today at the White House, President Obama met with the CEOs of all the major U.S. banks. A lot of these big bonus guys. The CEOs looked around the White House and said, 'You live in this dump?'." --Jay Leno
"President Bush made a number of gaffes at the G-8 Summit. One of them -- he gave a neck rub to the Chancellor of Germany. So you know what that means? He's drinking again." --David Letterman
"The chancellor of Germany disengaged herself from the president of the United States using a move she learned in date rape prevention class. ... If that was Clinton going in for Merkel, somehow her bra would be off." --Jon Stewart, on Bush groping German Chancellor Angela Merkel
En quelque lieu qu'il aille, ou sur mer ou sur terre, Sous un climat de flamme ou sous un soleil blanc, Serviteur de Jésus, courtisan de Cythère, Mendiant ténébreux ou Crésus rutilant,
Citadin, campagnard, vagabond, sédentaire, Que son petit cerveau soit actif ou soit lent, Partout l'homme subit la terreur du mystère, Et ne regarde en haut qu'avec un oeil tremblant.
En haut, le Ciel! Ce mur de caveau qui l'étouffe, Plafond illuminé par un opéra bouffe Où chaque histrion foule un sol ensanglanté;
Terreur du libertin, espoir du fol ermite; Le Ciel! Couvercle noir de la grande marmite Où bout l'imperceptible et vaste Humanité.
— Charles Baudelaire
The Cover
Wherever he may go, on land or sea, Under a blazing sky or a pale sun, Servant of Jesus, courtier of Cythera, Somber beggar or glittering Croesus,
City-dweller, rustic, vagabond, stay-at-home, Whether his little brain be sluggish or alert, Everywhere man feels the terror of mystery And looks up at heaven only with frightened eyes
Above, the Sky! that cavern wall that stifles him, That ceiling lighted by a comic opera Where every player treads on blood-stained soil;
Terror of the lecher, hope of the mad recluse: The Sky! black cover of the great cauldron In which boils vast, imperceptible Humanity.
— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)