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Angeliki Kapoglou
1,320 followers -
Systems Designer - Engineer
Systems Designer - Engineer

1,320 followers
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I couldn't relate more to this article. Thank you Matina Stevis for putting my raw emotions into words. The first thing I do when I wake up is to check my Greek twitter list for the latest developments. Witnessing in slow motion a calamity of historic proportions about to hit my country with a huge emotional toll. I am upset and I feel I have a responsibility to do something.
"When you're living abroad and your country’s in the news to this extent, two things happen: one, it becomes a constant item of conversation; and, two, you become a de facto ambassador, a defender, an expert, an apologist." 

Among other things, she studies billiards. But now, in a move very characteristic of modern mathematics, it gets kind of meta: She considers not just one billiard table, but the universe of all possible billiard tables. And the kind of dynamics she studies doesn't directly concern the motion of the billiards on the table, but instead a transformation of the billiard table itself, which is changing its shape in a rule-governed way. If you like, the table itself moves like a strange planet around the universe of all possible tables.

I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
I answered and never heard from you again.
you used to write insane poems about
ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you
knew famous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it’ all right,
go ahead, enter their lives, I’ not jealous
because we’ never met. we got close once in
New Orleans, one half block, but never met, never
touched. so you went with the famous and wrote
about the famous, and, of course, what you found out
is that the famous are worried about
their fame –– not the beautiful young girl in bed
with them, who gives them that, and then awakens
in the morning to write upper case poems about
ANGELS AND GOD. we know God is dead, they’ told
us, but listening to you I wasn’ sure. maybe
it was the upper case. you were one of the
best female poets and I told the publishers, 
editors, “ her, print her, she’ mad but she’
magic. there’ no lie in her fire.” I loved you
like a man loves a woman he never touches, only
writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have
loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a
cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom,
but that didn’ happen. your letters got sadder.
your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all
lovers betray. it didn’ help. you said
you had a crying bench and it was by a bridge and
the bridge was over a river and you sat on the crying
bench every night and wept for the lovers who had
hurt and forgotten you. I wrote back but never
heard again. a friend wrote me of your suicide
3 or 4 months after it happened. if I had met you
I would probably have been unfair to you or you
to me. it was best like this. 
Charles Bukowski

The Things You Do Often

“For many things, your attitudes came from actions that led to observations that led to explanations that led to beliefs. Your actions tend to chisel away at the raw marble of your persona, carving into being the self you experience from day to day. It doesn’t feel that way, though. To conscious experience, it feels as if you were the one holding the chisel, motivated by existing thoughts and beliefs. It feels as though the person wearing your pants performed actions consistent with your established character, yet there is plenty of research suggesting otherwise. The things you do often create the things you believe.”
– Benjamin Franklin

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
The arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
*

by Walter "Walt" Whitman

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Anybody interested in coming with me to the Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds concert in SF on Monday the 7th of July?http://www.songkick.com/concerts/18713829-nick-cave-and-the-bad-seeds-at-warfield

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Shifting the paradigm of materials creation with hierarchical design of 3-dimensional nano-architectures. Architecture can control mechanical properties like toughness and recoverability thus it is possible to use DESIGN to create entirely NEW CLASSES of materials. Hierarchical ordered cellular solid with dimensions on length scales ranging from 100 μm down to 10 nm. 99% air! World Economic Forum & Caltech unite powers. Universities, industry and policy makers needs to come together and form more partnerships!

JAXA FTW! A global “paradigm shift”where nations stop competing for energy resources on the ground & instead work together to build grand orbital power stations! Space solar power would require an international consortium, like the one that funds for example CERN and the worlds giant particle physics experiments "It would be difficult and expensive, but the payoff would be immense, and not just in economic terms. Throughout human history, the introduction of each new energy source—beginning with firewood, and moving on through coal, oil, gas, and nuclear power—has caused a revolution in our way of living. If humanity truly embraces space-based solar power, a ring of satellites in orbit could provide nearly unlimited energy, ending the biggest conflicts over Earth’s energy resources. As we place more of the machinery of daily life in space, we’ll begin to create a prosperous and peaceful civilization beyond Earth’s surface"

Over 75 years after the first appearance of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s beloved book, we are still no closer to penetrating the central riddle: What is “The Little Prince” about? Is it a war story? "Not an allegory of war, rather, a fable of it, in which the central emotions of conflict—isolation, fear, and uncertainty—are alleviated only by intimate speech and love. In the deepest parts of his psyche, he had felt the loss of France not just as a loss of battle but also as a loss of meaning. From an experience that was so dehumanizing and overwhelming—an experience that turns an entire human being with a complicated life history and destiny first into a cipher and then into a casualty—Saint-Exupéry wanted to rescue the person, not the statistic. You can’t love roses. You can only love a rose. The men the Prince meets on his journey to Earth are all men who have, in Bloch’s sense, been reduced to functions. The Businessman, the Astronomer, even the poor Lamplighter, have become their occupations, and gone blind to the stars." 
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