My name is James, James Joyce, and you can call me J.J..

I was born in Ireland, you know, an  island off the western coasts of England,  a  green paradise!

I come from a family with a strong religious background typical of traditional Irish families.

Well, I must say that I just love words, words and music. Music and words. For me, words are like instruments.

I like playing with them, making jokes, making puns-on-words. It is a lot of fun for me!

Would you like  to go on a ride with me on a horse of words? You will have fun, no doubt!

I promise, I will take you on a dream-ride, something you will remember for the rest of your life.

Take for example the days of the week, I will make them squeak for you:

Monday will transform itself into  Moan-day and  Tuesday into  Tears-day. 

I like distorting things or seeing them on a different angles or writing sentences without punctuation.

I have changed the structures of sentences forever, you know.

I am also interested in re-writing great myths and stories. I really enjoy that!

I like re-writing scenes from the Bible and also like making fun of the Irish, you see?

Some Irish in habitants  do not like my type of humor but  it does not hurt me and I don’t care.

I must also say that I  just love my country and Europe, I like its history and its hopes.

In my novel, Ulysses, you  will travel through the streets of Dublin, my vision of Dublin, that is.

I will tell you more next time.

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q9Deeh9n-VI[/youtube]

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ci4ZbDSrnMk[/youtube]

In Dublin’s fair city,

Where the girls are so pretty,

I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,

As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,

Through streets broad and narrow,

Crying, Cockles  and  mussels  alive, alive, oh!”

“Alive, alive, oh,

Alive, alive, oh,”

Crying “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh”.

:She was a fishmonger, :But sure ’twas no wonder,

For so were her father and mother before,

And they wheeled their barrows,

Through the streets broad and narrow,

Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”

(chorus)

She died of a fever,

:And no one could save her,

And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.

But her ghost wheels her barrow,

Through streets broad and narrow,

Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”

(chorus)x2

Mississipi Mark Twain Huckleberry Farhiye and Alice 4°4 + teacher Marie ANDRE-Milesi COLLEGE LUCIE AUBRAC

[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NAxWT25ugUw[/youtube]

http://www.ducksters.com/geography/us_states/us_rivers.php