Английский клуб онлайн

Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Хат » Пт дек 03, 2010 2:06 pm

Наш министр спорта Мутко выступает на английском, представляя нашу заявку на проведение чемпионата мира по футболу в 2018 году. Он там кстати обещает, что в случае победы будет говорить на английском, как представитель от Англии. Что закономерно вызвало дикий хохот у всей аудитории. :)))



пс. и таки да. чемпионат проведут у нас, так что Мутко пошел учить английский :)
квестим...
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Хат » Вс дек 05, 2010 12:42 pm

а вот и текст, который он читал )))

Изображение
квестим...
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение BiJou » Вс дек 05, 2010 12:42 pm

Даа... фофифа :D
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение BiJou » Вс дек 05, 2010 12:47 pm

Он ведь ради шумихи и популярности специально так прочитал? Клоунада такая?
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Хат » Вс дек 05, 2010 12:49 pm

BiJou писал(а):Он ведь ради шумихи и популярности специально так прочитал? Клоунада такая?

Я думаю он просто учил какой-нибудь немецкий или французский. А вообще я завидую таким людям, которые не парятся как их там поймут, а смело говорят. :)
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение BiJou » Вс дек 05, 2010 12:55 pm

Хат писал(а):
BiJou писал(а):Он ведь ради шумихи и популярности специально так прочитал? Клоунада такая?

Я думаю он просто учил какой-нибудь немецкий или французский. А вообще я завидую таким людям, которые не парятся как их там поймут, а смело говорят. :)


А почему тогда не воспользовался переводчиком?
Не, мне кажется, это пиар такой всё-таки.
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Uscita » Вс дек 05, 2010 5:07 pm

==========
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Хат » Вс дек 05, 2010 8:03 pm

BiJou писал(а):...
А почему тогда не воспользовался переводчиком?
Не, мне кажется, это пиар такой всё-таки.

может и пиар. но что пиарил непонятно. я уверен, что те кто голосовали (кажется 22 чела) заранее знали кому отдатут голоса.
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение бибигюль » Пн дек 06, 2010 1:23 pm

что пиарил - ясно. пиарил страну. речь кстати отличная, с юмором, да и понятно все, плюс титры на экране были, которые продублировали ключевые моменты. а акцент - дело такое, он у всех есть и в мире это уже мало кого волнует. вы бы индусов послушали, или китайцев. так что дядька молодец.
If you can't f@ck it and it doesn't dance, eat it or throw it away ©
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб дек 11, 2010 2:09 pm

What does it feel like to be unattractive and desired by none?

It's been truly awful. I feel like I'm missing out on a lot of life.

I topped out a bit over 5' tall. As a male, that's the kiss of death. Unlike other forms of unattractiveness, there's nothing I can do about it. If you're overweight, you can try going to the gym. Women who are concerned about their chest can get that fixed. If you're a jackass, you can pretend to be nice for as long as it's necessary. If you can't get an erection, just check your email.

It's just completely capricious and unfair. If I were female, it wouldn't be an issue at all. I can't think of a comparable issue for women. It's also something that was largely out of my control.

I'm smart, fairly well off financially, interesting, well traveled, loyal and extremely generous ... but all that hasn't been able to overcome my height. The research shows that unless I become a millionaire, I'm pretty much out of luck. If I could spend $500,000 to become 5'10", I'd do it without thinking twice.

Being short is a triple whammy because it affects two other things that women value: confidence and clothes. While I try to be confident, it is hard when you haven't had a lot of success. Buying clothes is a real challenge and even with some tailoring I have to wear clothes that are too big for me.

I remember one speed dating event where a woman spent the whole 10 minutes with me filing her nails and doing her make up. I wasn't interested in her anyway, but geez. How hard is it to be polite for 10 minutes?

It feels like I have no choices and I know that on a few occasions, I've continued to pursue things that weren't great because, hey there was at least a bit of interest. Note to self: an atheist dating someone in seminary is not a good idea.

In a weird way, it's an invisible thing, despite being a completely visible thing. My friends (male and female) will make jokes about short men in front of me. While they wouldn't make such comments about race, sexuality, etc., it seems perfectly socially acceptable to mock short men. Hollywood regularly mocks short men and perpetuates negative stereotypes, despite the fact that many of Hollywood's leading men and other celebrities are short. (Tom Cruise, Dustin Hoffman, Jon Stewart, George Stephanopoulos)

There's also a lack of support, because my friends don't see the issue. "It's all in your head." Undoubtedly, rejection after rejection does take its toll on your psyche.

At least a couple of times in my life, guy friends have deserted me. As best as I've been able to tell it's because they felt I was hurting their game.

A female friend once told me that it was kind of like winning the lottery. She meant that I had to keep playing. But sometimes it does feel like my odds are like playing Powerball, which are a lot less than getting struck by lightning.

I sometimes get the sense that women, including attractive women, will let themselves get close to me because they don't consider that I could possibly be interested in them. That ends up being even more crushing.

I also get to hear female friends go on about what jerks all men are, how they cheat, aren't trustworthy, etc. That really grates on me.

Being an unattractive man is especially hard because men are the ones expected to make the first move. This means constantly being subjected to rejection.

Outside the dating world, it just seems like things are much easier for others. I can't quantify it, but it's a feeling that sticks with me. People seem less willing to help unattractive people. I'm reminded of the 30 Rock episodes with Jon Hamm, where people fall all over each other to things for him because he's attractive.

Even moderately attractive female friends have expectations of what people will do for them that go way beyond what I would expect people to do for me. This isn't a case of getting what you give. I've been very generous to others, both with time and money. I've learned not to expect that others would do for me what I would do for them.
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб дек 11, 2010 2:14 pm

What does it feel like to be stupid?

The following is a very unusal account of a true but unusual experience:

I had an arterial problem for a couple of years, which reduced blood supply to my heart and brain and depleted B vitamins from my nerves (to keep the heart in good repair). Although there is some vagueness as to the mechanisms, this made me forgetful, slow, and easily overwhelmed. In short I felt like I was stupid compared to what I was used to, and I was.

It was frightening at first because I knew something wasn't right but didn't know what, and very worrying for my career because I was simply not very good any more.

However, once I got used to it and resigned myself, it was great. Even though I knew I had a worrying illness, I was happy as a pig in mud. I no longer had the arrogance of being frustrated with slow people, I abandoned many projects which reduced a lot of stress, I could enjoy films without knowing what would happen (my nickname before this used to be 'comic book guy' if you get the reference), and I became amazingly laid back and happy go lucky. I got on with people much better. I developed much more respect for one of my friends in particular who I always considered slow - it turned out he is much deeper than I thought, I just never had the patience to notice before. You could say I had more time to look around. The world just made more sense. The only negative, apart from struggling to perform at work, and having to write everything down, was that I no longer found sci-fi interesting - it just didn't seem important. (I'm not joking, although it sounds like a cliché.)

Eventually after more physical and life threatening symptoms developed I got the right tests and they found my arteries where blocked up (2 out of 3 of my main coronary arteries 100% blocked - they couldn't work out why I was alive - it later turned out that I had unusually good peripheral circulation from my intense cycling). I've since had stents to open up the arteries again and made a full recovery.

After a year or so I am almost as 'clever' as I used to be, although I tend to ignore distractions more than I used to and focus on a smaller number of projects. I'm still more laid back than I used to be though, and have more patience with people. Most people still find me more socially competent. I also enjoy sci-fi again.

So an unusual perspective, from a fairly unusual circumstance, but that's what it feels like to be be stupid when you used to be fairly bright. In some ways it was a great learning experience, although obviously in other ways it is a life changing fact I have to live with. Not many people get to walk about in other peoples shoes, and then pick up where they left off. Plus it's obviously nice to still be alive.

In short I would say that the frustration of dealing with slower people is worse than being one of the slower people, even if you know you are slow. Obviously most people who are relatively slow, don't know it, but I think I've glimpsed how they experience the world.
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Пн дек 27, 2010 9:37 am

What does it feel like to get shot by a handgun?



Source: http://answers.google.com/answers/threadview?id=467321 Copied for lack of a direct link to the answer.

My name is Jesse (online name Danny Bishop). I myself was shot--in the
chest--on November 27th, 1994, at point-blank range with a .22" magnum
revolver (single-action, convertable--to.22" LR with alternate
cylinder). The bullet was likely 40-grain; the type: .224 caliber high
velocity (WMR--Winchester Magnum Rimfire, MAxiMag), with a nominal
muzzle velocity of 1,550 fps, from a likely 6.5" handgun barrel
(applied pressure, point blank: 324 foot pounds per sq. inch). I can
tell you--not from watching it happen--but from actually experiencing
it, exactly what it was like. First of all, there was the most
incredible, shocking impact you could ever imagine--equivalent with
having an M-80 (quarter stick of dynmamite) go off in your shirt
pocket--and I can tell you, I was sent reeling. It felt like I was
thrown back good 2-to-5 feet or more, as my legs gave out on me.
There was simultaneously, a feeling like a bomb went off INSIDE of my
chest, and that of being jack-hammered through my chest wall--all of
this, all at once. Then, everything semed to go into slow motion, as
undoubtedly, a large amount of adrenaline was released from my adrenal
medulla, causing my central nervous system synaopses to fire
faster--like a high-speed camera, producing a slow motion effect. I
was later told that the bullet (not surprisingly) ricocheted around in
my chest like a pinball, first penetrating my entire chest mass,
fracture and bounce off my left scapula, hurle back through my chest
again, fracture a rib, and then bounce back through, trace a path
around another rib (and puncture the pleural lining of my left lung),
next flying straight into my spinal collumn, fracturing my T-9 and
T-10 thoracic vertebrae, and transecting my spinal cord (I am now
paraplegic). Feeling all of this, all at once, was equivalent roughly,
I suppose, was like being shot three times or more, not to mention
that waves of paresthesia (tingling) echoed and serged throughout my
body. My feeling in my legs was gone, just like that, at the same time
I was flying backward--into a chair and a desk. Oddly, at that moment,
I was hell-bent on protecting my head. Finally, laying on the ground
in that room, only a good 30 seconds or so post-impact, I felt my left
lung begin to squeeze, and my breaths were agonizingly painful and
teribly short. Every breath was a knife turning in my lung. Then, I
began to loose my vision--like white-out erasing my visual field) as I
began to go into hypo-volemic shock (low blood volume). I lost my
ability to see temporarily, and could not tell what was going on
around me. Then I passed out for what was probably thirty minutes. It
was a darn miracle that I did not die, as a doctor later told me, the
bullet almost 'curved' around my heart, within a centimeter or two of
hitting it or a major blooc vessel (it could have easily hit me right
in the inferior, or even the superior, veina cava, near the heart
muscle, in which case death would have followed in 1-2 minutes or even
fewer, and unconsciousness in thirty seconds or less. As to the
question: 'Does a person writhe in agony?'--No, I personally did not
WRITHE in agony, like I had been lit on fire, but I was instantly
thrown into the most excruciating, truly agonizing experience of pain
I have ever known--and I have had chronic spinal pain ever since,
being on prescriptions such as morphine sulfate, Dilaudid
(hydromorphone HCl) and levorphanol tartrate. The reason I was not
WRITHING in agony is I was knocked into a state of indescribable
shock, and was incapable of much, if any movement. However, after
waking up thirty minutes or so after passing out, I managed to sit up,
despite my paralysis, and I still remember--even though my pain had
deminished somewhat at that point, due... undoubtedly, to endorphin
release--the feeling of warm blood pouring down my shirt, and adding
tot he pool of blood underneath me, the veinous flow coming directly
from the now hot, burning wound on, and in, my chest. I laid there for
about four more hours before someone found me--I could barely whisper,
much less yell, due to my 16% or so lung capacity, and as it turns
out, nearly two liters... the amount of fluid in a large soda pop
bottle, on my left lung... like a refridgerator crushing the left side
of my chest--and by the time the paramedics got there, I was in utter
shock. I was also beginning to hurt so badly again that no words can
describe it. It was horrible. Hospitalization was no picnic either,
let me tell you. Even after draining off the fluid once with a chest
tube--a rubber catheter inserted through your ribs, into the pleural
lining of your lung, they gave me what is known as positive-pressure
respiratory treatment, and the inflation of my lung popped a blood
vessel and caused additional pleurasy, and another 'hemothorax'.
Originally, I also had air trapped in my chest--a pneumothorax, which
they had to releave with a cannula. That hurt too! After two
additional chest tubes and having to bear down to force the
reddish.-brown fluid out of my chest cavity and into a collector, I
finally regained around 98% lung capacity, amazingly, and then--one
month after arriving at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center in the Bay
Area, California, I began Spinal Cord Injury Rehabilitation. I had to
learn to deal with having little control over my bowels, having to
learn how to do a 'bowel program' with suppositories, and the fact
that I had no feeling in my groin--meaning no future physical sexual
feelings, and no ability to masturbate--and still having a huge sex
drive... how do you like that?--I had almost no way to relieve
tension, escept exciesize, for endorphin release, and taking my pain
meds. What made it worse was, before I was shot, at age 16, I had
never had sex, and never had a girlfriend, eventhough I can say
honestly I am, and have long been, a very attractive man. And even
though I have had half a dozen girlfriends now, ten years later,
dating was no fun... having to explain my limitations. In October of
2003 however, I had one of the happiest days of my life, howver, when
I married my wife, Jennifer. My dad was my best man. However, even
being married, and having a willing sexual partner, I find myself
doing almost all of the pleasing, and I suppose I will never know what
it is like to be inside a woman--to actually FEEL it at all--or orgasm
therein. Any of you out there who have had there experience, count
yourselves as lucky. Unless there's sex in there Hereafter--and I hope
there is... with my wife, I'm talking, right now--I suppose I will
never know what sex is like. You have no idea how angry that makes me,
and how much pent up sexual frustratipn a guy has after a decade of no
orgasmic release. Hey, that may sound shallow, but TRY IT SOME TIME.
It's funny, though. So many people, when finding out I was shot in the
chest, ask the same question. "Did it... hurt?" Um, yeah, it was the
most agonizing thing I ever experience, and could ever imagine
experiencing, and so I can definately say, 'It wasn't like a massage.'
But hey, I understand what fascination people have with pain and
extreme injury. After all, before I was shot, watching action movies,
I wondered what it was like. Some people have imediate endorphine
releases and never have such pain symptomatology. I remember lying in
bed, in the hospital, with this bloddy patch over theupper, left
quadrant of my chest, thinking, "Wow. Was I really shot? Am I really
shot??" it's hard to believe, when it happens to you. And assuming, if
you will, that there's an Afterlife, I bet people, being delivered the
news that they are dead, think/say to themselves, "Wow. Am I really
dead? Dead?" Anyway, I won't bore you any further. I'll just leave you
with, "Being shot--does it... hurt?" Yes, sir-ee, my friend. It most
certainly... does. So now you know, like I have... for ten years. : )

Peace, Jesse ('Danny B.')
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Чт янв 06, 2011 5:23 am

"Аммон Ши целый год читал Оксфордский энциклопедический словарь. Он проработал с карандашом в руках 21730 страниц и выписал много-премного, а хотелось бы вшестеро больше редких, трудных и забытых слов. На радость нам, vocabularians, лексическим фанатикам и терминологическим одержимцам, жертвам ономатомании – патологической фиксации на подборе правильного слова. Вот некоторые примеры, надеюсь, понравятся:

Accismus (акцизм) – притворный отказ от желаемого.

Admurmuration (адмурмурация) – шёпот как действие. Мне тут бабка у подъезда адмурмурировала…

Consenescence – совместное старение, схождение на нет; общее гниение. Песня Битлз Consenescence, or Grow Old with Me.

To constult – вместе делать глупости. – И чем вы занимались? – We… constulted.

Dipnosofist (дипнософист) – человек, обучающийся в процессе застольного разговора. Надо открыть дипнософский факультет при кулинарном техникуме, он будет дико популярен.

Felicificability – способность быть осчастливленным. Такой-то по натуре не очень фелицификабелен.

Frauendienst – преувеличенное рыцарство по отношению к женщине. Заимствование из немецкого. Вот где рыцари-то: в Германии.

Gymnologize – проводить дискуссии, обнажившись, подобно индийским философам. Я не знаю, зачем!

Hypergelast (гипергеласт) – человек, непрестанно смеющийся. По-украински дурносмiх.

Insordescent – всё более оскверняющийся. Величественно звучит! Стану собирать металлюжную группу, так и назову.

Interdespise – ненавидеть ненавидящего вас. А как «благословлять проклинающих вас» одним словом, не нашла.

Kakistocrasy (какистократия) – правление худших. Антоним аристократии. Название российскому общественному строю найдено, ура!

To lant – доливать пиво мочой для крепости. Василий Алибабаевич ещё порядочный человек по сравнению с этими преступниками.

To leep – умываться коровьим навозом. Ради белизны и свежести лица.

Mammothrept (маммотрепт) – 1) ребёнок, воспитанный бабушкой; 2) испорченный ребёнок. Без комментариев.

Mataeotechny (матеотехния) – бесполезное и/ или невыгодное умение. Я не талантлив, я матеотехничен.

Miskiss - поцеловать неправильно. К сожалению, не прилагаются схемы основных ошибок и методы их устранения.

Nemesism – противоположность нарциссизму. От имени богини мести Немезиды.

Petrichor – приятный запах сырой земли после ливня. Слово-фаворит Аммона Ши.

Psithurism – шелест листьев на ветру. Моё слово-фаворит.

Tacenda – совокупность всего того, о чём следует умалчивать. Представляется толстенный талмуд, прикованный цепями к столу, и - готическим шрифтом на пергаменте обложки: Tacenda.

Vomiturient – желающий сблевать. Высшее образование – процесс превращения абитуриентов в вомитуриентов.

Wonderclout – красивая, но малоценная вещь. От корней "диво" и "половая тряпка"

Источник: http://www.livelib.ru/review/80180

Я типичный дипнософист, да :a_g_a:
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Ср янв 12, 2011 5:00 am


Психиатрия как лженаука
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Nekto » Чт янв 20, 2011 11:46 am

террин, ты тут сама с собой разговариваешь что ли?
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Чт янв 20, 2011 11:58 am

Mostly yes :a_g_a:
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб фев 12, 2011 11:14 am

Emily Dickinson (December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886) was an American poet.

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.

Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб фев 12, 2011 11:14 am

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб фев 12, 2011 11:15 am

I measure every grief I meet
With analytic eyes;
I wonder if it weighs like mine,
Or has an easier size.

I wonder if they bore it long,
Or did it just begin?
I could not tell the date of mine,
It feels so old a pain.

I wonder if it hurts to live,
And if they have to try,
And whether, could they choose between,
They would not rather die.

I wonder if when years have piled--
Some thousands--on the cause
Of early hurt, if such a lapse
Could give them any pause;

Or would they go on aching still
Through centuries above,
Enlightened to a larger pain
By contrast with the love.
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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Re: Английский клуб онлайн

Сообщение Terrin » Сб фев 12, 2011 11:15 am

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
"Старые мосты могут еще пригодиться. Лучше сжечь старые грабли."
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