...Půda mužského srdce je kamenitá, každý si na ní pěstuje,co umí....a stará se o to.
Blog Lubomíra Tomika

Prosinec 2014

Imagination, Reality Look Different in the Brain

26. prosince 2014 v 10:41

Imagination, Reality Look Different in the Brain


"Turn off your mind, relax, and float down stream..."

Maybe John Lennon was onto something when he wrote those words for the Beatles' song "Tomorrow Never Knows."

It turns out that that reality and imagination flow in different directions in the brain, researchers say. The visual information from real events that the eyes see flows "up" from the brain's occipital lobe to the parietal lobe, but imagined images flow "down" from the parietal to the occipital.

Interview.

26. prosince 2014 v 10:31 | Lubomir74
Dobře jsem se pobavil, když jsem včera koukal na The interview.Chvílemi jsem se chechtal až jsem se za svoje menšící se břicho popadal,,scéna s tygrem,nebo s ukousáváním prstů v divokém finále,Katy Perry,padesát procent filmu bez problémů připomene Žhavé výstřely. Pak byly okamžiky kdy to tak slavné nebylo,byl jsem v rozpacích jestli je něco podobného přes čáru nebo ne, a dialogy typu-Užij si válku...-no nevím.A moment kdy Franco s Rogenem koukají na sebe a rozhodují se jestli do toho jít nebo ne, to až nepříjemně připomíná realitu...
Aspoň jeden Oscar!

Šťastné a veselé svátky všem.

25. prosince 2014 v 13:11 | Lubomir74
Šťastné a veselé svátky vánoční 2014 všem!
Večer pěkně The interview v 1080, zdvižený prostředník také ode mne na kim čong una ,cheche.

Moonsorrow-Huuto

21. prosince 2014 v 15:03


Teď jsem si nějak vzpomněl,když jsem byl na vojně,na cvičiště se chodilo kolem kapličky v poli, na které bylo napsáno: Umři dřív, než umřeš a neumřeš, když umřeš.
Ha!


Padraig Pearse, "The Rebell

21. prosince 2014 v 12:40

The Rebel
by Patrick Pearse
  • Documentation for the TextInfo template.
I am come of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow;
Who have no treasure but hope,
No riches laid up but a memory of an ancient glory
My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,
I am of the blood of serfs;
The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten
Have had masters over them, have been under the lash of masters,
and though gentle, have served churls.
The hands that have touched mine,
the dear hands whose touch Is familiar to me
Have worn shameful manacles, have been bitten at the wrist by manacles,
have grown hard with the manacles and the task-work of strangers.
I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly, I am bone of their bone I that have never submitted;
I that have a soul greater than the souls of my people's masters,
I that have vision and prophecy, and the gift of fiery speech,
I that have spoken with God on the top of his holy hill.
And because I am of the people, I understand the people,
I am sorrowful with their sorrow, I am hungry with their desire;
My heart is heavy with the grief of mothers,
My eyes have been wet with the tears of children,
I have yearned with old wistful men,
And laughed and cursed with young men;
Their shame is my shame, and I have reddened for it
Reddened for that they have served, they who should be free
Reddened for that they have gone in want, while others have been full,
Reddened for that they have walked in fear of lawyers and their jailors.
With their Writs of Summons and their handcuffs,
Men mean and cruel.
I could have borne stripes on my body
Rather than this shame of my people.
And now I speak, being full of vision:
I speak to my people, and I speak in my people's name to
The masters of my people:
I say to my people that they are holy,
That they are august despite their chains.
That they are greater than those that hold them
And stronger and purer,
That they have but need of courage, and to call on the name of their God,
God the unforgetting, the dear God who loves the people
For whom he died naked, suffering shame.
And I say to my people's masters: Beware
Beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people
Who shall take what ye would not give.
Did ye think to conquer the people, or that law is stronger than life,
And than men's desire to be free?
We will try it out with you ye that have harried and held,
Ye that have bullied and bribed.
Tyrants… hypocrites… liars!

Simulations back up theory that Universe is a hologram

20. prosince 2014 v 22:01

Simulations back up theory that Universe is a hologram


A team of physicists has provided some of the clearest evidence yet that our Universe could be just one big projection.

In 1997, theoretical physicist Juan Maldacena proposed1 that an audacious model of the Universe in which gravity arises from infinitesimally thin, vibrating strings could be reinterpreted in terms of well-established physics. The mathematically intricate world of strings, which exist in nine dimensions of space plus one of time, would be merely a hologram: the real action would play out in a simpler, flatter cosmos where there is no gravity.

Panebože:

19. prosince 2014 v 21:17

Dnes v noci.

19. prosince 2014 v 21:03
Teď jsem se dostal domů,po tom všem, narval jsem dvacet sedm písníček do zničující kompilace kterou budem poslouchat o Vánočních soudcích, super akce u nás doma v garaží, topí se dřevem, budem dělat škvarky na strašlivém sporáku a poslouchat něco z nejlepších věcí všech dob.
Ale musím se vrátit k hliněným nohám, které kráčí s námi.
Slyšel jsem největší klasiku všech klasik, Smells like teen spirit,Nirvana. Klíčová skladba našeho mládí.Když jsem ji dnes slyšel na Rádiu Zlín, napadlo mě, a co ten text vlastně znamená?
CO KDYBY Mi vylízal Kurt Cobain prdel ?
Strašné, v okamžiku ,kdy jsem si po letech vybavil text té věci-



No more nights of blood of fire

Dnes mi někdo sebral další nevinnost
bolelo to víc než obvykle
nakonec jsi sám,
bolí to o dost míň
než jsi čekal

ale v té souvislostri to bylo ještě lepší_04,Dagmál.

Wield Lightning To Split The Sun-Primordial lyrics album 2014

18. prosince 2014 v 21:45

Wield Lightning To Split The Sun


Who would pray to anything but the mountain
And wish for anything but lightening to split the night
Who would praise anything but the sun above
That brings each dawn and our radiant day

What man places faith in his heart
Above the animal that rages deep inside
What man asks forgiveness yet
Lies to himself his whole life

Let the animal hunt on the mountainside
And let lightening split my heart in two
Let me howl at the moon with desire
And stretch my arms wide to embrace the sun
Return to the earth that bore me
For there is nothing more