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Because you have not just any tickets: "The supremacy of the word Galiciano Galileo."

Some ideas that wander through my mind are reflected in this blog, many others do not, today, I want to thank the Galileo Galiciano that without familiar face, showing me the beauty that has through a common comment from a blog using a metaphor. It is a poetic force that is well worth consideration art, and as that was the engine that gave impetus and led to the birth of this blog I transcribe it:

To Manoli13

Large and small rivers are flowing not only with the contribution of snow melt and incessant rains, but also with the modest contribution of countless hidden flowing fountains.

Sure, Manoli: The sources also relieve the thirst of travelers.

Greetings

in an earlier comment I had left these - for me, flattering and motivating words

Beautiful blog for those who are also looking. And so, the brains of those who look but do not see, discover the alphabet and language of mathematics in the works of man and the expression of nature.

Mathematics is reason and emotion, but emotion and feeling governed by the brain that "rules" in the heart. Physically and metaphorically. Greetings

These comments are part of the entry:

http://blogs.publico.es/ciencias/el-juego-de-la-ciencia/953/turismo-matematico/

And if any contribution, that we should contribute to this social intelligence can and should improve the world , whichever no Zero-Sum Game (Robert Wright ) - front the most widespread and Zero-Sum, because if we talk about metaphors , I like to spread one of the most poignant metaphors of the story: "Strange Fruits " ("Strange Fruit " )

Abel Meeropol (1903-1986), a Jewish professor of Russian origin, he wrote under the pseudonym Lewis Allan, the poem "Bitter Fruit" (Bitter Fruit)

Strange Fruits (Strange Fruit )

Southern trees bear strange fruit, Blood on the leaves and blood at the root, Black onesies swinging in the southern breeze, Strange fruit hanging from the poplar trees. Pastoral scene of the gallant south, The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth, Scent of magnolias, sweet and fresh, Then the sudden smell of burning flesh. Here is fruit for the crows to pluck, For the rain to gather, for the wind to suck, For the sun to rot, for the trees to drop, Here is a strange and bitter crop.

South host trees strange fruit, Blood in the leaves and blood at the root, Black bodies swinging the southern breeze, Strange fruit hanging from tree poplars. Pastoral scene of the gallant South, Bulging eyes and crooked mouths, Essence of magnolias, sweet and fresh, Then the sudden smell of burning flesh. Here's the fruit that emboldens the crowds, (the fruit) which brings rain, wind to suck, (the fruit) that the sun rot, which is sprayed on trees, so here bitter harvest.

This song that dared to sing in 1939 Billie Holiday at the Cafe Society , (a club frequented by intellectuals progressive, one of the first places outside of Harlem where blacks and whites attending), in Greenwich Village, New York, social EUAes a complaint of a heinous act that is practiced daily in the southern states of the U.S. since the late nineteenth century through the 60's of XX century: the lynching of people who were not white-skinned ( six in ten white Southerners approved of the lynching).

"Never ask for whom the bell tolls, the bell tolls for thee."

John Donne (Meditation XVII), written in 1624.


More information about this appalling metaphor, those fruits that hang from trees Southerners and whose pictures were sold as souvenirs to the 40:

http://vagabundia.blogspot.com/2007 / 10/extraos-frutos.html


not stop listening to Josh White version on which was rated the song of the century by Time magazine in 1999.