www. Everybody knows what it is. World Wide Web.
I remember i once read an quasi autobiographical book called just like that. The Spider Web (1938). Or maybe, On the Spider Thread of Memory (1977). One of the two. Written by the a Romanian author, Cella Serghi.
One of these days i thought. What if conscience does not reside inside our body but is the Universe itself by which our brain is linked through literal threads. Infinitesimally small but physical whirls like threads of AEther used to entangle particles, making up for our memories. Maybe created by the lightening of engrams. Shooting out of our brain, entangling with many others.
Interestingly, the name of the character of the first book was Diana, reminding of Dianetics. Also the name of the author, L.Ron Hubbard is almost an of...
Scientology also believes brain is not where our soul resides, but just an interface. To the individual Thetans.
The ancient Egyptians were discarding the brain during mumification. They said it was a useless organ (in the afterlife anyways). A burden to carry all our life? I remember the title of a poem written by Romanian poet Adrian Păunescu. The Unrepeatable Burden. Cause what is brain? Something that takes lots of precious resources of our body, for sure.
At the age of 4 my father went to trip to Soviet Union. He brought back a photo enlarger for my grandfather, and a tricycle for me (that was converting to a bicycle). After i got bored of three wheels my father one day made it two only but it lacked a freewheel mechanism. Which means the pedals were always linked to the wheel.
One day maybe at my repeated request my father took me to ride on the street that was paved with asphalt. They were very few cars (for lack of cars in Romania at that time) maybe just a few a day. We went and climbed a long slope beyond the milk processing factory. Then when we got back, i took my feet off the pedals. The pedals started to turn so fast i could not put my feet back on.
At the base of the slope i think i had maybe 50 kmh (30 mph). A group of gypsies on a side of the road were gesticulating and yelling at me to keep focused and not give up which i think helped me a lot. I continued out of inertia for several hundred yards or until i could control that bike.
At the base of the slope i think i had maybe 50 kmh (30 mph). A group of gypsies on a side of the road were gesticulating and yelling at me to keep focused and not give up which i think helped me a lot. I continued out of inertia for several hundred yards or until i could control that bike.
Believe it or not, this picture was taken by my sister Angela (coincidence of name) who was 3 or 4.
Grandfather was not biological, he married my grandmother when my mother was a few years old. He was a many years war veteran, was a driver carrying other soldiers and a piece of artillery. I remember he also said also something a mare he was riding. 6 years of war. I once asked him, when i was about 8, why people do go to war. He said "they were too many people".
That night tante Miți drove me really mad. She said i was fat and my tits were big and kept giving me bras to try. Finally could go to sleep. I heard a very loud noise. In the morning i a big branch ot the tree (walnut maybe) in the courtyard was down. It was hit by lightening, they said.
Was it that evening or the next when we went to visit other relatives or theirs. They were in a front yard some sort of flowers (queen of night they called them) that were making a smell so strong it was choking me.
I remember i was playing in a barrel with collected rain water (they did that a lot back then because the rain water had very few minerals and needed not carrying from a fountain) with a little boat that had an electrical motor in it.
They gave it to me to take home în Câmpulung (Suceava). I played a lot with it but in the end i took it apart (like i always did with everything i ever had, maybe it broke) and my father built with that motor a little metal propeller thrower. I remember later i made a drawing with a man on a backpack with a motor in the back and a propeller above him.
Because it took piano lessons between 5 and 7 with a teacher named Redlov(e) and had to write notes for homework, i kinda learned how to read and write before i went to school. But i remember the first thing i ever read was the word PHILOSOPHY (FILOZOFIA) on a HS book of my mother, who abandoned HS after about a year "because of headaches" my grandfather said. She later went to a medical assistant school, but never graduated because of the weird test she had for finals and she could not do it.
They later bought me a small accordion, with 32 bass buttons, but could not play with it mostly because i could only play by notes at that time. So my grandfather brought me an accordion teacher was was literally blind (was brought in by his daughter). In the end he taught me a few songs and after a few years i forgot about notes and was playing only by ear.
They gave it to me to take home în Câmpulung (Suceava). I played a lot with it but in the end i took it apart (like i always did with everything i ever had, maybe it broke) and my father built with that motor a little metal propeller thrower. I remember later i made a drawing with a man on a backpack with a motor in the back and a propeller above him.
Because it took piano lessons between 5 and 7 with a teacher named Redlov(e) and had to write notes for homework, i kinda learned how to read and write before i went to school. But i remember the first thing i ever read was the word PHILOSOPHY (FILOZOFIA) on a HS book of my mother, who abandoned HS after about a year "because of headaches" my grandfather said. She later went to a medical assistant school, but never graduated because of the weird test she had for finals and she could not do it.
They later bought me a small accordion, with 32 bass buttons, but could not play with it mostly because i could only play by notes at that time. So my grandfather brought me an accordion teacher was was literally blind (was brought in by his daughter). In the end he taught me a few songs and after a few years i forgot about notes and was playing only by ear.
(Later i had a regular size accordion and while still in grade school learned lots of stuff from a teacher, also by ear, at the House of Children and got pretty good at it).
Ok so here i am with my next big memory at the age of 8. My father was at some sort of supervisors school again in Suceava (for the factory they were building in Câmplung across the street) and had a room in a condo there and my mother was with him and they were both working at the wood processing factory in Suceava. Again with my grandmother and grandfather we went to visit them.
He had a small transistor radio and because the regular AA batteries were expensive, he used a bigger, cheaper battery external to the radio and of course i started to play with it. Was attaching and detaching those wires kinda like i was sending morse code messages and my father asked me what i was doing and i told him i am trying to contact the aliens.
In that day i saw my father and grandparents looked scared. It was the day of the invasion of Czechoslovakia by Soviet Union and the famous Ceaușescu speech which opened for him the doors of west banks for borrowing money and building the industry that made so many things like condos and jobs for half Romanians.
Who quit those ancestral lands that were confiscated anyways by the post Soviet regime and moved into cities.
Later i learned from my father it was also rumored that Ceaușescu had a secret weapon, built with the help of Coandă, Tesla's and Einstein's friend, with which they melted the Soviet tanks that were about to cross the border.
He had a small transistor radio and because the regular AA batteries were expensive, he used a bigger, cheaper battery external to the radio and of course i started to play with it. Was attaching and detaching those wires kinda like i was sending morse code messages and my father asked me what i was doing and i told him i am trying to contact the aliens.
In that day i saw my father and grandparents looked scared. It was the day of the invasion of Czechoslovakia by Soviet Union and the famous Ceaușescu speech which opened for him the doors of west banks for borrowing money and building the industry that made so many things like condos and jobs for half Romanians.
Who quit those ancestral lands that were confiscated anyways by the post Soviet regime and moved into cities.
Later i learned from my father it was also rumored that Ceaușescu had a secret weapon, built with the help of Coandă, Tesla's and Einstein's friend, with which they melted the Soviet tanks that were about to cross the border.
But in the end those loans ruined Romania, financially, leading to what historians have called "the 7 years of hunger by Ceaușescu".
But i believe that was triggered by the defecting of Pacepa and cut of favorable loans. Could the invasion, the speech have all been scripted, to allow Soviet Union to get some proxy access to western technology.
We moved for one year in downtown Câmpulung were my father had another job (and where he finish his graduating project for that school of supervisors). We were close to that repetitor in down town so we had a good signal for the TV to see the Apollo moon landing (and also heard about Apollo 13 accident). The TV was by the brand Orion, made in Hungary, and had a contact problem at the channel selector and was flickering all the time and needed tweaking and sometimes hitting.
Then they finished the factory across street in west Câmplung and we moved there.
Yes there was another factory there, milk processing, built around year 1960 or the year of my birth, by the Swiss. They had these cisterns and were driving around that mountainous rural area, gathering milk. My mother worked there for a while. They had a siren that was going off three times a day, at 2 PM, 10 PM and 6 AM, for at least one minute.
There was an airfield behind both (where i learned how to ride the motorcycle, around 10. I heard a story about my mother being taken in a plane by one of the communist dignitaries, maybe Dej or Botnăraș who was from Bucovina and had a villa în Câmpulung. Today i suspect small planes could have landed and quickly taken off during the noise made by that siren.
In 1972 i went to a summer camp in Hamburg, Germany.
