Daniela Marie Luise Klette, how are you?

die Klette, the burr, la bavure, a rebarba, die braam, i-burr, burr-imik.

86 Capoeira.

Susanne Hanna Ursula Klatten, how are you?

glätten, smooth, lisse, liso, suave, liscio, bushelelezi, levis, ajornangitsoq.

glatt rühren, Stir until smooth, Remuer jusqu’à consistance lisse, Mescolare fino a ottenere un composto omogeneo.

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Meir Furman: von Israel nach München, Wien-Schwechat, is he a born Israeli or a convert?

Golda Meir.

Marathon Man, 1976.

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page 194:

Vachel Lindsay, (1879-1931).

Nicholas Vachel Lindsay was an American poet known as the founder of modern “singing poetry”. He is celebrated for his dramatic, chant-like public recitations that revived poetry as a spoken art.

General William Booth Enters into Heaven (1913)

The Congo, and Other Poems (1914)

Booth Tarkington, (1869-1946).

Penrod series.

The Magnificent Ambersons (1918).

Alice Adams (1921).

Edgar Lee Masters, (1868-1950).

Spoon River Anthology, (1915).

The Hill, (1915).

The Spooniad, (1915).

James J. Hill, (1838-1916).

The Empire Builder.

Give me Swedes, snuff and whiskey, and I’ll build a railroad through hell.

James J. Hill Sapphire

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_J._Hill_Sapphire?wprov=sfla1

The Wikipedia link about its value contains a broken link.

Lindsay Lohan, Lindsay Dee Lohan, 1986, how are you?

Edward Burns, Edward Fitzgerald, Burns, 1968, how are you?

The Holiday, 2006, Iris, Ethan.

The Fitzgerald Family Christmas, 2012.

Caitlin FitzGerald, 1983.

New York University Tisch School of the Arts.

NYU Tisch.

Preston Robert Tisch(1926–2005).

The New York Observer: The Tisch Family by Anna Schneider-Mayerson Archived September 22, 2017, at the Wayback Machine December 18, 2006.

page 198:

Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849).

                     ULALUME.

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere—
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir—
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul—
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll—
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole—
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere—
Our memories were treacherous and sere—
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year—
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber—
(Though once we had journeyed down here)—
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent
And star-dials pointed to morn—
As the star-dials hinted of morn—
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn—
Astarte’s bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said—”She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs—
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
To point us the path to the skies—
To the Lethean peace of the skies—
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes—
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes.”

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said—”Sadly this star I mistrust—
Her pallor I strangely mistrust: —
Oh, hasten!—oh, let us not linger!
Oh, fly!—let us fly!—for we must.”
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust—
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust—
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied—”This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendor is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty to-night:—
See!—it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright—
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.”

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom—
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb—
By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said—”What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?”
She replied—”Ulalume—Ulalume—
‘Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!”

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere—
As the leaves that were withering and sere,
And I cried—”It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed—I journeyed down here—
That I brought a dread burden down here—
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber—
This misty mid region of Weir—
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.”

Edgar Allan Poe Society (2007). “The Baltimore Poe House and Museum”. eapoe.org. Archived from the original on May 6, 2022. Retrieved October 13, 2007.

ULALUME, DU BIST EIN MANN.

Ulalume, Onkel.

page 199:

Paul Verlaine, (1844-1896).

« Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l’automne
Blessent mon cœur
D’une langueur
Monotone.

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l’heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure

Et je m’en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m’emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte ».

— Paul Verlaine, Poèmes saturniens

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Donald John Trump, how are you?

Christine Madeleine Odette Lagarde, Lallouette, how are you?

Astrid Zürn and Norbert Otto Pich are virtually noticeable, how are you? Please disconnect Astrid Zürn and Norbert Otto Pich at all. Thank you!

Rinat Leonidovych Akhmetov, how are you?

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never mind, I virtually hear, identify sender.

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MH370, 2014:

Weak Signal Propagation Reporter (WSPR).

Richard Godfrey.

British aerospace engineer Richard Godfrey and academics Hannes Coetzee and Prof. Simon Maskell today published 232-page report detailing where the plane likely ended its final journey.

Raspberry Pi.

Sumatra, Banda Aceh, tsunami (2004), gold mining, mercury, boiling point 629.88 K (356.73 °C, 674.11 °F).

proposing a search area centered around 33.177°S 95.3°E.

Flight simulators: there was an idea for IBM to sponsor old flight simulators to Disney to be converted in a theme ride. That actually happened and I was on one of those rides, it simulated space flights and deep drops. I actually was on this flight simulator ride at Disney with my daughter when she was 3, she wasn’t scared by the spaceflight simulation and was focused on the robotic narrator. However when she was 12 years old, we went on the same ride and I had to stop the performance by raising my hand, because she was too scared. The ride started with leaving the mother ship and a deep drop.

Where did the pilot, Zaharie Ahmad Shah, get his data from? He built the flight simulator himself. The flight recordings might have contained the Brainstorm tape that was used to trigger the 2004 tsunami, that would make MH370 a copycat scenario, which would explain that in itself it doesn’t make any sense.

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Disclaimer.