Nicholas Dolinger público
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Blue, blue is the grass about the river And the willows have overfilled the close garden. And within, the mistress, in the midmost of her youth. White, white of face, hesitates, passing the door. Slender, she puts forth a slender hand; And she was a courtezan in the old days, And she has married a sot, Who now goes drunkenly out And leaves her too much alone.
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Here we are, picking the first fern-shoots and saying: When shall we get back to our country? Recorded on May 30th, 2024. Featuring (in order of apperance): Coffee the Answer (@CoffeeTheAnswer), Jo (@junker_jo), Arty the Art Historian (@ArtyArtHistory), Charlie Looker (@charlielooker), Liminal Points (@liminal_points), Yeerk.P (@PYeerk), David Void…
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"Wee Hear in Formed that you got Shear in mee sheens and if you Dont Pull them Down in a Forght Nights Time Wee will pull them Down for you Wee will you Damd infernold Dog. And Bee four Almighty God we will pull down all the Mills that heave Heany Shearing me Shens in We will cut out Hall your Damd Hearts as Do Keep them and We will meock the rest …
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In 2022, the war of the sexes has been raging since times immemorial. With the help of renowned podcaster Jack Mason (lotus_point), I channeled the spirit of Perfume Nationalist (a mystery wind which comes from the East) to reach a heartwarming Christmas truce, in which the spiritual man and spiritual woman lay down their weapons and cross over no …
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Our great Mikado, virtuous man, When he to rule our land began, Resolved to try A plan whereby Young men might best be steadied. So he decreed, in words succinct, That all who flirted, leered or winked (Unless connubially linked), Should forthwith be beheaded, beheaded, beheaded Should forthwith be beheaded. with Phoebe (@allthefrensy)…
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In quella parte del giovanetto anno che ’l sole i crin sotto l’Aquario tempra e già le notti al mezzo dì sen vanno, quando la brina in su la terra assempra l’imagine di sua sorella bianca, ma poco dura a la sua penna tempra, lo villanello a cui la roba manca, si leva, e guarda, e vede la campagna biancheggiar tutta; ond’ ei si batte l’anca, ritorna…
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Bridges, play something quiet, not too intrusive, maybe something from the Gnossiens. “Ok,” said Bridges. I’m trying to push against the walls. For three years, out of key with his time, he tried to resuscitate the dead art of radio, to push against the boundaries of the medium and penetrate through walls of defensive irony. This episode descriptio…
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