This morning news that Claude Nobbs died reminded me of a time I first visited Montreux Jazz Festival and how excited I was to be there. Montreux Jazz Festival was one of the few brands from Switzerland I knew besides cheese and chocolate. Later I learned that the festival was so successful and well known thanks to its boss during the almost 50 years and groundbreaking entrepreneur, Claude Nobbs.

Here's the Deep Purple's "Smoke on the water" live video from 2006 in Montreux. Funky

bez obzira na saucesce ili " in memoriam"  koje je Barak Obama saosecajno uputio predstavnicima medija na godisnjoj veceri sa dopisnicima koji prate Belu Kucu  i

bez obzira na vapaje predstvanika jednog od srpskih novinarskih udruzenja  u liku ljiljane Smailovic( ako smo dobro zapamtili)

i pretnje

Ruperta Mardoka da ce bogami uskoro svi morati da placaju za sadrzaje na Internetu( ne znam samo ko ce i kako da ih natera to jos nisu resili...exactly)

tektonski poremecaj, zemljotres, kataklizma, revolucija  se vec desila sad jos traje samo bura i oluja koja

Mnogi mediji za proteste u Resniku vezuju reč rasizam, za nalepnicu "raseljavam Rom" takođe su vezali reč rasizam. A ja se  samo pitam koja je razlika između Resnika, nalepnice i onoga što radi Dragan Đilas i zašto niko uz ime gradonačelnika Beograda ne veže tu strašnu reč RASISTA!!!

Predrag Azdejković

www.azdejkovic.com

Oduvek mi je na radnom mestu bilo jako bitno sa kim radim i kakva je atmosfera u kancu. Neko prvo ozbiljno iskustvo u tome (posto sve moje aktivnosti u NVO ne racunam kao rad vec kao nesto sto je deo mene) sam imala u sudu kada sam dosla kao pripravnik.

Svaki sudski pripravnik mora da prodje u dve godine bar vecinu odelenja ako ne sva. Pocinje se naravno od pisarnice. Tu nas je bilo jako puno, zagusljivo, galama, ali i veselo. Smejali smo se cak i pevali. Medjutim, to je potrajalo samo nedelju dana, a onda je doslo na red da idem kod sudije. Dobila sam vrlo strucnu ali opasnu sudiju,

There are certain times during the year in which the people of the White City are suddenly and inexplicably unavailable. Between Christmas and New Year is a flexible gap of weeks in which people phase in and out of our space-time continuum. Then we are all here until May when the Easter-May Day vortex consumes a good 30% of our acquaintances.

At the moment, the remnants of the citizenry who are in Belgrade are hiding from the sun. Meetings get put off, people on the other end of the phone sound like they just woke up from an afternoon nap (even in the morning), "lunches," which already begin late as far as my hunger cycles are concerned, begin to drift more and more toward the evening.

   1. Government imagines lots of income for the year
   2. Government creates spending budget
   3. Government spends it.

There is a mixed blessing about staying behind in the White City during August. The streets are empty if you wish to drive your car, but often there is no one waiting for you at your destination. There are fewer people in lines in the supermarket, but much of what you need to buy will not be stocked until September.

 Man walks up to pay station at Sava Centar to pay for his parking. He puts in a folded 100 dinar note.

"Currency not accepted"

The notice says in English. Man unfolds the bill and smoothes it on his hand. Drops it. Damn. Picks it up, smoothes it out, and tries again.

On the other Reusch-gloved hand, however, nothing unites us with our seemingly disinterested neighbors, distracted fellow Underground riders, and dyspeptic shopkeepers than being au fait on the latest World Cup babble.

This is generally regarded as the beginning of the Christmas story in Western Christianity. Caesar Augustus, needing to revamp the Roman budget to maintain his supply of bread and circuses, sent out this emergency decree. I think he used Facebook, but this is an unconfirmed rumor.

Unlike bears, we do not sleep through the winter months. Unless watching parliament on RTS counts. But now, as the weather begins to warm, we awaken like the bears from a state of hibernation. We take to the streets. We wear brighter colors, fewer layers, we check each other out. Eyes open.

At the moment of the transition from one year into the next one, I am always confronted by a Troubling Paradox. The Christmas and New Year's (or New Year's and Christmas in orthodox juxtaposition) holidays always urge me to Observe Tradition and Incite Revolution.

I feel the need, the urge, to say something, but I know full well that my words will drift in the breeze like so much background noise - not even remotely disturbing to the people who should hear them, people who should be deeply disturbed by them.

The saddest part about trying to explain the deplorable, stressful, and completely unacceptable experience