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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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 Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 6:51 am Post subject: Construct a nice building... then insult people! |
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It looks like a bigger version of that shopping centre in Fukuoka
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eamo
Joined: 08 Mar 2003
Location: Shepherd's Bush, 1964.
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 6:53 am Post subject: |
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| Pics don't work for me. |
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Bulsajo
Joined: 16 Jan 2003
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:08 am Post subject: |
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| I had to do a right click 'view image'. So, where is this? |
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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:10 am Post subject: |
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| Its in Istanbul. |
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Tiberious aka Sparkles
Joined: 23 Jan 2003
Location: I'm one cool cat!
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:24 am Post subject: |
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Not Constantinople?
_*_ |
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Bulsajo
Joined: 16 Jan 2003
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:26 am Post subject: |
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| Dude, don't be a jeerk. |
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HapKi
Joined: 10 Dec 2004
Location: TALL BUILDING-SEOUL
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:29 am Post subject: |
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Looks like two white squares with a red x in them, buried in a square bunker of grey.
Did you get those from GoogleEarth? |
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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:33 am Post subject: |
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| Tiberious aka Sparkles wrote: |
| Not Constantinople? |
I prefer the name Byzantium myself.
| Quote: |
Sailing to Byzantium
THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come
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by W.B. Yeats |
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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:35 am Post subject: |
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| HapKi wrote: |
Looks like two white squares with a red x in them, buried in a square bunker of grey.
Did you get those from GoogleEarth? |
No, I got it from
http://www.emporis.com/en/
Its a good source if you are into Architecture or Urban Planning. Its a sad hobby to have but I am guilty. |
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Woland
Joined: 10 May 2006
Location: Seoul
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 7:40 am Post subject: |
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| If you can get the pictures up, I can probably tell you what the building is, if it is in Istanbul. You've piqued my curiosity now. |
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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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Woland
Joined: 10 May 2006
Location: Seoul
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 8:02 am Post subject: |
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Okay, I've been watching this thing go up for some time whenever I've walked through Besiktas. They finally finished it, eh?
I don't get the part of your thread title about insuting people. Can you give a hint? |
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ed4444
Joined: 12 Oct 2004
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 8:05 am Post subject: |
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| They have a shop called Jeerk |
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Guri Guy
Joined: 07 Sep 2003
Location: Bamboo Island
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 8:20 am Post subject: |
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I can hardly believe my eyes. It is my favourite poem of all time. Sailing to Byzantium. ^^
| Quote: |
I prefer the name Byzantium myself.
Quote:
Sailing to Byzantium
THAT is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come
by W.B. Yeats |
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Qinella
Joined: 25 Feb 2005
Location: the crib
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| Posted: Mon Aug 21, 2006 8:49 am Post subject: |
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| Wow. It's beautiful. |
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