#1670 rant

[st-anczyk69]

tbh jestem prawie pewna że Maciek to nie jest żaden chłop

to jest z pochodzenia szlachcic - change my mind

albo bękart może jakiegoś szlachcica i chłopki czy coś.

a bo i po pierwsze, dlaczego by chłop z Litwy miał w ogóle mówić po polsku? (no ale dobrze, jasne, to po prostu komedia i trzeba było, żeby się dogadywali bez przeszkód), a szlachcic litewski to jasne że po polsku zna

dwa: pal licho ten polski, ale skąd by chłop znał nazwy miesięcy po łacinie??

a trzeci argument jest taki, że fabularnie rzecz ujmując to cały ten romans skazany jest na sromotną porażkę (a ze to jest komedia to nie wypada dawać tragicznego zakończenia przecież), CHYBA że nagle się okaże że to jest jednak syn magnata jakis. i wtedy simple wszyscy się cieszą i kochają (tyle że umarła by teza o jakimś między stanowym porozumieniu nieco jasne jasne) (ale to jest Netflix czy kogoś by to zdziwiło?)

jak to się stało ze jest teraz w adamczysze?

a. uciekł (no można wiele powodów wymyślić)

b. został wygnany (j.w.)

c. [moja ulubiona] jest bękartem szlachcica z jakąś chłopką, a że szlachcic jakiś dobry/honorowy/zakochany, to go najpierw w pewnym stopniu jak prawowitego syna chował, ale potem coś się zesrało (stary umarł, stary zachorował, zmienił się rozkład sił i Maciusia wyrzucili, zdegradowali do chłopa)

papatki :*

[+edit]

jeśli by się dalej nad tym zastanawiać to chłop z Litwy - chłop prawosławny to w ogóle się nie spotykał z łaciną, ponieważ msze prawosławne były odprawiane w starocerkiewnoslowianskim, więc o ile chłop katolicki coś tam mógł „liznąć” łaciny w kościele i się nauczyć dwóch czy trzech słów, to chłop prawosławny tym mniej?

za to szlachta litewska się polonizowała. co prawda nie wiem, bo się nie znam i Google wprost nie chce powiedzieć, czy przechodzili na katolicyzm czy nie, no ale na pewno łacinę bardziej.

dlatego jestem zasadniczo zwolenniczką teorii, że jest bękartem, bo wtedy wiara po matce chłopce, prawosławny, a gdzieś tam wychowanie jakieś czy inna edukacja podstawowa po polsku i łacinie

[st-anczyk69]

funny how w rzeczywistości jest raczej na odwrót, co dobrze nam pokazuje scena w ostatnim odcinku, w której jp dwa razy pyta się Żmiji czy jest z nimi w stodole inny syn szlachcica niż Stanisław. no bo zasadniczo jednak najważniejszy (i ostatecznie jedyny naprawdę ważny) jest pierworodny.

has someone already done this or

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling the Doctor about your run-in with his villains…

The Doctor pointed to the team at Unit, “So if you’re all wearing the armbands,” he gestured to himself and Donna, “and we were out of reach, why haven’t you been affected?” The Doctor asked now looking at you.

His attention drew the eyes of everyone around the room to you as well.

Clearing your throat, you raised a hand. “So, funny theory. Remember when we took a break from life-threatening adventures the TARDIS?”

Ten squinted back. “You mean when you threatened to melt my sonic in the heart of a supernova if I didn’t let you, yes I remember.”

Donna smirked to the side. “Now this I want to hear.”

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best way to get your way but it had worked. “Right, yes. That. I ended up on Earth in 1670. More specifically, Soho.”

Kate Stewart stepped forward. “You were in the same town as the Toymaker?”

Your lips drew back as you scratched your neck sheepishly. “Sort of? I ended up working at his store for a few weeks and he - well, he had a soft spot for me.”

Teen glared. “And?” He prompted. He was always able to see through the half replies.

“And he wasn’t too bad to look at either.”

Donnas eyes widened. “You had a thing for the Toymaker?”

You sent her a small shrug. “I didn’t know he was an evil madman at the time.”

Ten rolled his eyes and ran his hand over his face. “What is it with you and my enemies?” He groaned. “The Toymaker is a huge problem. And don’t even get me started on that thing you had going with the Master.”

Kate turned to you. “The Master?” She questioned, quite shocked with this revelation that wasn’t knowledge to UNIT.

Ten was still ranting. “Who’s next? Davros? A Cyberman? Zygons maybe?

You crossed your arms and scoffed. “Hey, don’t bring your weird Zygon kiss into this and act like that was my doing.”

Donna let out a long breath and leaned against the computer desk. “Oh boy, this is a lot to take in.”

Ten was still scowling at you as he walked over to his friend. “Tell me about it.” Then he pointed at you. “No more cavorting with villains.”

~ More imagines here ~

[tea-time-with-frogs]

going insane over 1670 its like a dream show for me. that period and sarmatian culture i sooo interesting to me i will rant about it to anyone who would listen AND THEY MADE A SILLY FUN SHOW ABOUT IT??? WITH DOOMED OLD WOMEN YURI??? biting my hands

[mai-von-weissenfels]

I would like to establish myself as the biggest hater of August II of Saxony (1670 - 1733).

Below is a list of everything I don't like about him (warning: long thread):

Stole the Polish throne not once but twice, and his son stole it for a third time.

I know Poland's elective monarchy system is a bit fucked up (they have had a bunch of foreign monarchs before) but still August didn't even win the election. He was backed by several powerful surrounding states, like the HRE and Russia, but he still got his way onto the Polish throne by various shady shenanigans, involving a lot of bribery.

Now I'm not saying he's responsible for the fall of the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth, but I'm saying he's partially to blame. The time period he was in was about after Poland won a major war (Great Turkish War 1683 - 1699). But he only saw Poland as an extension of Saxony, and a place where he could legally have the title of King while still being in charge of territory within the HRE. And he got it into another war that it didn't need to be in (more on that in a bit). Now, the war, the Great Northern War (1700 - 1721), it went pretty badly for the Saxons, and August was forced to give up the Polish throne. I would say even Karl XII had more regard for the Polish people than August, since he took the effort to find a suitable Polish candidate for the Polish throne instead of appointing one of his own. But as soon as Karl was defeated in Russia, August just stole the throne back. And after his death another war broke out in Europe over whether his son or a Pole would succeed the throne. The Polish throne became a spot for greater European powers to try gain influence. Which then led to the Partitions of Poland. So yeah. Not a fan.

2. Undeservedly won the Great Northern War

Oh boy, where do I even start. I guess I'll start from even getting into it in the first place. He knows his rule on Poland is illegitimate. He has to bribe the local Polish nobility to support him. And now, he wants to bribe the Livonian nobility to declare him the legitimate King of Poland. How does he do that? He promises to liberate them from Swedish rule. And put them under Saxon rule perhaps! Well anyways, he employs not only the Saxon army, but also the Polish army to fight in the war. It's not even their fight!

Well, now onto the actual war. I've got to give props to Denmark for surrendering within four months and thus saving Saxony from the "worst performance in the GNW" title, but honestly it's not much better. I compiled a list of battles in the GNW once, and I kid you not, Saxony never won a single battle by itself, they only win when they're joined by Russia. Saxony even lost and signed a peace with Sweden in 1706. They only came back to win the war when Russia defeated Sweden in 1709. Karl's mistake of neglecting the Russian front was his own fault. If he went for Russia first, defeated them, then went one on one with Saxony, I believe he would win.

3. Just a genuinely bad person

Hear all those stories about monarchs improving some aspects of their countries for the better? August does none of that. He could care less about the people and more for a luxurious lifestyle of collecting paintings and mistresses. Yes, the grandiose palaces full of high class art in Dresden are his. Granted, he reigned before the Age of Enlightenment and only caught a tiny bit of the very beginning, but Peter the Great lived during exactly the same time as him, and he cared for his people.

And about the mistresses, he was a notorious womanizer, and is said to have fathered over 300 children. Only one was legitimate. One. He once sent a consort, Aurora von Königsmarck, to try to persuade Karl XII to sign peace. She was refused, but still, that wasn't a very respectable move from August.

So yeah, in conclusion, I don't like him. Easily one of the worst monarchs ever in my opinion. Even his victories weren't legit. Thanks for reading my rant

[st-anczyk69]

Maciej syn magnata agenda if you ask me…

Hi. It's something i drew a while ago for my friends. My endgame for Maciej (and Aniela ofc)

[sweet-vanilla-sims]

Year 1670

TW/CW: Death, Infant Death

With two of his older sisters now married and Giuliano now being an adult, he decided that it was time for him to be more serious about his intentions with Ashley so he called on her mother to join him at the Morosini home.

Gabriella was hesitant to say anything as the young man asked for her daughter's hand in marriage. She wanted her daughter to have a good life and well, Giuliano was a poor farmer but she also knew that the pair had been together for years now and that time together had only drawn them closer. So she gave him a challenge to save up a certain amount of funds by the time her daughter turned twenty-one after that she would start looking for more suitable suitors for her daughter. Giuliano had been expecting this answer and the years of plenty the family had experienced had actually brought them nearly to the amount Gabriella wanted so he kept quiet and said that he'd do his best. He didn't want to test his luck when his love was on the line after all.

Giovanni's ghost haunted the home in a sour mood at learning that two of his daughters had left the home and Olimpia was not all that interested in the hot headed ghost's rantings towards her about not following in their footsteps.

Orelia's pregnancy progressed well as she spent her time with her uncle's family. Orion was smitten with her granddaughters and Orelia was beginning to feel lonely as she started wanting her mother nearby when she went into labor though she also knew that that would not happen.

Osana was disillusioned by her husband when she arrived in Newcrest though she had tried to make the best of it. Her husband had worn fancy clothing and bragged about his wealth but she found that he was the same as her, a noblewoman's lover which is where his true wealth came from but even still Osana wanted to look on the bright side especially since she too was expecting.

As for Orsa and Alessandro, their impending arrival hadn't dampened any of their feelings towards each other, if anything they had grown stronger. The two could hardly keep from each other and Alessandro's parents who visited frequently only made jokes about how they should cherish the moments before the baby comes to take their sleep though they also held their own surprise that Gianna was expecting even at her late age.

It was mid-July when Orsa went into labor. She was terrified but was also a little glad that the whole pregnancy was over with. It wasn't terrible especially from the horror stories she had heard from the other women in town but labor only cemented her feelings that it was not for her.

Marina Rossi was born on July 18th and she was blessedly healthy and the light of her parents eyes.

Just a month later accompanied by her uncle's wife and mother, Orelia delivered her own daughter Pasqueta Morosini on August 19th. While Orsa had been impassioned about not giving her daughter siblings, Orelia was awestruck and despite only being a mother for a short time was hopeful that in the future she would have more, not as many as their mother had but more.

Through Talia's tome Giulia learned of her newest granddaughter from Orelia and while she was disappointed to know there was no husband to speak of she was delighted that their family was expanding. Giuliano was also happy to talk about his deal with Gabriella and how he was very close to the amount he needed. Giulia was excited to have a new daughter-in-law in the home and while she didn't want to pressure the young couple right away she was excited for a grandchild in the home as it was pretty clear that if the pair hadn't been chaperoned there would have been some sooner.

September brought with it Olimpia's sixth birthday who grew into a lovely child.

October came and Osana went into labor with her fourth child and on October 2nd, Juliette Arnault was born. It was a new start for Osana to be in love with a child with her husband and her daughter's health was proof of that in her eyes. Osana almost immediately set out to write to her family about the birth of her daughter.

Though when Osana collapsed and died just two days after delivery, it was unclear when Francois wrote to Orelia about which news would reach their hands first, the news of the birth of her niece or death of her sister. Francois did say in his note that their daughter was still in good health.

The bad news only seemed to grow when Orelia's daughter Pasqueta died on October 7th and the day after her funeral was when Francois' letter reached her telling of her older sister's death.

Just a few days after news spread of the family's losses, Marina grew into a darling little baby. It was still unclear who in particular she took after but her hair and eye color clearly came from her father.

Alessandro's parents had been right about how the new addition would keep the new parents busy but both of them were delighted to add their little girl into their lives together.

Orsolina was more inclined to visit following the loss of Osana. She was devastated at her sister's loss and while she was happy with her noble life with her sons, the death made her realize that she had been neglecting the rest of the family and she was determined not to waste anymore time with the people she still had left.

[wakamotogarou]

In Praise of Ignorance pt1

By William Wycherley (1670s)

Most Noble Ignorance! still scorning Pain, And Labour, the worst Labour of the Brain, Shou'd not for Folly, but for Wisdom pass, Since the First Man's Crime, Ruine, and Disgrace, His Guilt and Curse, but from his Knowledge was; So since Man's Knowledge has his Ruine been, Ignorance is the Truest Wisdom then, Since Men in it Rest, Quiet, Safety find, The Body's Ease, and True Peace of the Mind; Then Ignorance shou'd for Discretion go, Patron of Courage, nay of Science too, For few wou'd Fight, or Write, did they know what they do; And Books, the Magazines of Sense, or Wit, Had never sure been written, but for it; Then it, for Best Sense we must needs confess, Since Cause of all Content, and Happiness, Whence, what is Good or Ill, we cannot guess; Whence we, for Want of Foresight, Reason, Sense, Are safe, have Innocence for our Defence; Dangers, nor Ill Luck, can fore-see, fore-know, Which our Grief, our Shame, from our Knowledge grow; Which felt and suffer'd, by Thought, Fear, or Care, To shun 'em, (tho' they never happen) are; So Sense, makes Caution make our Mischief sure, Our Thoughts, Fears, Cares, Cause for 'em to procure; Whilst Ignorance, for Want of Knowledge is, And Thinking, but most Innocent, and Wise; Shou'd, as least Knowledge, for most Prudence go, Since Men least Happy prove, the more they know; Then Ignorance Good Sense will justifie, Is, as least Sense, but most True Policy, Of which, the Cautious Cunning are least shy; Best Policy, which Fools wou'd hide alone, And Wise Men most, to show most Knowledge, own; Who, to show more Sense, let it less appear, Since Sense keeps all who deal with it, in Fear; And since in Courts, for Breeding, Wisdom too, Not to see Faults, or Follies, does it go, The Wise, to know all, nothing seem to know; Since Knowledge makes less Friends than Enemies, Man in his Ignorance is safe, so wise; Thus Ignorance for Want of Knowledge, we, With Reason, most Discretion think to be, Since still more Knowledge, does more Trouble grow, More Fear, more Guilt, but as more Knowledge too; Then Prudent Ignorance, (we must confess) More Reason shows, as is its Knowledge less, If Want of Care, or Fear, be Happiness; To which a Man, for Prudent, Want of Thought, Or Knowledge, by Stanch Ignorance, is brought; For Want of Science, 'tis Philosophy, Makes Men, for less Thought, live more happily, More wisely then, as more insensibly; For Want of Knowledge, to have more Content, To live more Free, more Safe, as Innocent; By scorning Pedantry, Thought, Sense, 'tis Wit; Since Knowledge brings more Pain, Care, Fear with it, Thus Ignorance, for Want of Knowledge, so, More Reason is, Faith, and Religion too; In Camps, for daring Fortitude has gone, Not knowing what it did, has Honour won; He who no Danger sees, no Fear can know, In Court or Camp, for best Assurance so, And Honour, daring Ignorance may go; For Want of Sense, 'twill baffled be by none, By no Court-Rants, School-Subtilties run down, For Want of Reason, best maintains its own; Thus Ignorance, for want of Knowledge, is More Sense, as but less Understanding 'tis; For Want of Sense, 'tis Self-sufficiency, To make it but on its own Self rely, Whilst Diffidence does want of Sense imply; By Thoughtless Ignorance, is Prudence shown, Since 'tis Court-Policy, to show there none, Which is most Pow'rful, as it is least known; Thus Ignorance is most, best Policy, Since none of Fraud, suspect Simplicity, Which is confided in, implicitly; Which can no Guile, in Word or Action show, So no Man's Shame, but Honour shou'd it grow; Its Honour, Wisdom, best does justifie, But by its Boldness, and Simplicity; Which having to Vain Knowledge no Pretence, Proves more its Courage, Faith, and Innocence; Its Patience, Gravity, Discretion too, Which does more Sense (disputing nothing) show; Since Men still, for an obstinate Debate, Or Opposition, grow more Obstinate;

[dresshistorynerd]

My Favorite Fashion History Periods

Gentlefolk, Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the corner where I rant about my latest obsessions! I decided a fun way to introduce this blog would be to list my favorite fashion periods.

I’m Karkki and I have absolutely no education on this field, but I just love costuming, history and clothing, so here I am. This is not supposed to be a blog where I’m authority on something (I’m not). You can join me on my journey to learn to sew better and learn more about clothing history, if that’s your jam.

These are mostly Western (women’s) fashion periods, since I don’t have enough knowledge (yet) of fashion’s of other cultures, but I’m planning to change that. The order is from present to past.

1920s

I like other 20th century fashions, but 20s is definitely my fave. I love the silhouette and the androgynous look.

Edwardian (1901-1910)

Sometimes 1910s is counted as Edwardian fashion, but it’s not Edwardian Era anymore and the silhouette is quite different (I like it too but not as much). Edwardian fashion has a gorgeous silhouette, the most amazing details and so so much lace.

1890s

This is probably my all time favorite fashion decade. It’s so extra, the drama is off the roof. Colors: bold. Patterns: strong. Details: dramatic. Sleeves: enormous.

Natural Form Era (1877-1882)

The DRAMA. I have nothing else to say.

Early Romantic Period (1830s)

The most extra period ever has to be the 1830s. Everything is so big and so much. It’s so ridiculous I could die and I love that. I like the last Regency decade too (the previous decade), it’s similar but just more toned down and tasteful, which is why it’s not on this list.

Baroque in 1640s-1670s

Giant sleeves, tits out, huge hair - Baroque in nutshell. Have you maybe caught on the pattern? What can I say, I just love huge sleeves and the drama.

Italian Renaissance in 1510s-1530s

The same theme continues. I don’t know what to tell you. Except LOOK AT THOSE SLEEVES! Renaissance as a whole was a mixed bag. In England they were sporting the hats that looks like houses and in Italy they were doing this shit. I love this shit.

1490s Italy

What I most love in this look is the hair. It just looks so nice. That long braid thing on the back and the diadem on the fore head. I also like the shift bulging in the sleeves (always obsessing over sleeves).

Old Norse Clothing

I love actual Old Norse clothing as much as I hate costuming of all the Viking movies, games and TV shows. The colors! The layering! So nice.

Ancient Baltic Finn Clothing

I love clothing of the pre-historic Baltic Finns for mostly similar reasons, but also look at that swagger!! Their jewelry was top tier. Some day I will sew myself an ancient Finnish dress (to be clear Finns are not the only Baltic Finnish tribe). I have to decide weather I’ll do the clothing from my dad’s family’s home area or mom’s. It probably comes to which looks better.

[st-anczyk69]

CZEMU POMIDORY

Ja tę scenę z pomidorami to wgl nie za bardzo lubię; no Aniela Janowi Pawłowi mówi, że ma pomysł jak wygrać zawody takim tonem, jakby miała jakiś naprawdę sprytny plan, a wychodzi na to, że zrywają pomidory jakiemuś chłopowi spod chatki. No bo przecież to nie są żadne leśne pomidory. (Celowo pomijam to, że to nie jest za bardzo sezon na pomidory, bo to w konwencji całego serialu nie ma żadnego znaczenia, tak samo jak pomijam to, że na drugiej tacce chłop trzyma m.i. banany). Jeszcze śmieszniejszy byłby ten żart, gdyby Andrzej się zapytał, czy to nie są przypadkiem pomidory z jego ogródka, ale oczywiście absurd tego, że te pomidory są po prostu komuś zabrane/podebrane, w ogóle nie jest poruszony, ponieważ ten serial ma problem z robieniem sobie żartów z tego jak delulu jest Aniela (ale to jest wgl inna rzeka do dyskusji).

Przyniesienie pomidorów w tej sytuacji to tak jakby Andrzej i jego córki przynieśli ubitą za chlewem świnię zamiast upolowanego dzika.

No to co teraz?

Skromnie muszę powiedzieć, że scena była by sto razy lepsza, gdyby Aniela trzymała w rękach DZBAN MALIN.

(1) Malina to też piękny polski owoc (mimimi pomidor też owoc mimimi) a przy okazji są to owoce, co do których można uwierzyć, że zebrano je w lesie. (2) Chyba nie trzeba tłumaczyć, że każdy Polak się by ucieszył, że rozumie nawiązanie (biorąc pod uwagę moc easter eggów w tym serialu, z których pewnie 80% wgl nie zauważyłam (co z kolei sprawia, że zaczynam podejrzewać, że te pomidory to jest jakieś nawiązanie, niech ktoś mi powie do czego!), to aż dziwne, że na tak oczywiste nikt nie wpadł). (3) Ten dzban malin zyskał by wtedy jako symbol/metafora nowe odczytanie i bla bla bla przedefiniowanie i bla bla bla reinterpretacje (wiemy o co chodzi, chyba?).

A jaka piękna byłaby ta scena, gdyby jej się te maliny wysypały z tego dzbanka, a nie te pomidory z tej tacy.

Można by się tutaj pewnie i bardziej pobawić symboliką malin, kadrem rąk ubrudzonych malinowym sokiem itp, ale to już zostawiam.

[edit]

Dobra, rozumiem żart, że pomidorów wtedy w tej części Europy wgl nie było, a nikt się nawet nie dziwi i wszyscy wiedzą co to, ALE maliny by mnie bardziej cieszyły.

[spidey-d00d]

Sober Pt. 2

Words; 1670

Warnings;  Reader has an addiction, Detox

A/N; Here is the long awaited pt. 2 of Sober. Sorry for saying it was going to be out the other day, I started procrastinating and then 4th of July and then more procrastination. 

[NOT MY GIF]

Hours turned into days, and days into weeks. You were about to hit a month on the streets. You had scored more Oxy, but you were almost out of money to get food. Right about now, it was either a meal or a few more pills, and you were leaning towards the pills a lot more than feeding yourself.

You didn’t have anyone else to live for anyways. The people that took you in for 7 years don’t want you near them anymore. They think you are a loss cause. They think there isn’t any hope for you, which there isn’t. You are drowning yourself in pills, who would want to be near that.

You looked out on the lively streets of Queens, New York. You had walked all the way from the upstate facility, down to the place you had been multiple times to get Peter Parker for Tony. You weren’t here seeking Peter this time though, you were just passing through. You didn’t have a certain place in mind, but all you knew is that it was going to be out of New York.

The world seemed to work without you. You never doubted that it wouldn’t, but it was so fascinating that no one seemed to know that you weren’t going to be part of the society anymore. Standing up from you sitting position, you fixed the backpack that you had been carrying everyday for weeks, and started walking again.

You stopped by a little corner shop to grab a water bottle, and then turned down a small alleyway. Pulling out the small clear baggy full of the small pills, you grabbed 3 and swallowed them without an issue.

You were already on a high, but you needed more. You didn’t know why, but the craving was too strong to ignore. You started getting a little dizzy after walking a few feet down the crowded street, but you chose to ignore it. ‘It should be gone soon.’ You told yourself. You walked a little more, trying to shake off the weird feeling that you had, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t going away, and soon it got worse. You lost your balance, heard a lot of voices, and then passed out on the hard, hot concrete of Queens.

The smell of chemicals and the sound of sneakers squeaking against tile filled your senses. You were blinded by a bright light bouncing off of the off white walls. Squinting and rubbing your eyes, you looked down at your body that was laying down, but not on the the concrete, in a bed, and you were in an ugly hospital gown with a bunch of tubes and wires hanging off of you.

You went to go and sit up, but you were too weak to even pick your arm off of the bed. You felt like your body was sitting in a fire, but it also hurt so bad. You also had a killer headache that was amplified when the sound of a door opening and closing very loudly, followed by 2 loud voices came into earshot.

You groaned in pain that was radiating off of your head and shooting pain to the rest of your body. You hadn’t had the chance to identify the people because you were more preoccupied with how much pain you were in.

After a few minutes of you letting the pain settle down, you open yo eyes to be met with 2 sets of eyes that had a lot of eyes that had a lot of emotions running threw them, but the most prominent ones were Hurt, Anger, and confusion.

You couldn’t look into them anymore because it was making you feel like a failure or a disappointment, so you looked down at your hands.

“Wh-Why-Whe-” Tony started trying to ask a bunch of questions at one but he was just confusing himself and everyone around him.

“Okay, that is enough of that.” Steve said sighing and turning back to you.

“What he is trying to ask is why did you leave and where did you go?” He said, with a stone face, something he did when he was either beyond pissed or he was thinking, and right now, you knew it was the 1st option.

You just ignored them in hopes that they would leave you alone and not question you anymore.

“Y/N, why the hell did you leave?” He asked in a more stern voice than before.

“Because you didn’t need someone who can’t get through a death without popping pills! Death comes with that job, and I can’t do it! You didn’t know what to do with me or how to help me, and when you 3 don’t know what to do, it’s a loss cause, there is no fixing it. There is no fixing me.” You started out yelling but finally simmered down towards the end.

They just stared at you in shock. They had no idea what to say or what to do. Tony was looking at you like he does with a project he is working on and he is trying to figure out what to do with it, and Steve's’ face had softened a bit, but not by much.

“We told you that we would never kick you out. Yeah, we didn’t know what to do, but that was because we felt like you didn’t want our help. You isolated yourself from the world and your family. You didn’t tell anyone until days after, and then you up and fucking left. We have looked for you everyday for the past 3 and a half weeks, so don’t say we didn’t want you.” Tony piped up in his dad voice he only used for when you and Peter got in trouble for touching or doing something you weren’t supposed to.

You still didn’t look up. You felt like your body was on fire, and you were putting things together and figured out that you were in the middle of a detox, the worst part about the drug.

“Can you answer me on why you thought we didn’t want you?” Tony said softly, totally condredicting his little rant he went on just a few seconds ago.

You stayed silent for a little while, thinking on what to say, trying to formulate a response in your head before saying anything. “Because I am an issue. I can’t get through a death without resorting to my old ways. I just wanted to be perfect like the rest of you, but I ended up back at square one, 7 years of sobriety down the drain.” You whispered, your tears starting to build up.

“None of us are perfect and you know it. Everyone of us have our flaws, and we all have our own way of coping with death. Yeah, we have all been through a death of a loved one, we know the pain, but the thing that you and Loki had was so strong, that I wouldn’t be suprised if it took you 10 years to grieve.” Tony said, setting his hand on your covered leg, in a soothing way.

Steve was just staring at you with his blank face, and his arms crossed, like he was deep in a thought.

“I just want to get better T.” You finally let the dam break and the tears started flowing.

“I know kiddo.” He smiled weakly, “I know.”

“Can we just go home please? I promise I will try and get better. I just want to go home.” You hung your head low.

“I think we can arrange something.” He nodded his head towards Steve.

“Yeah, I will get the doctor to sign the discharge papers so we can get you to Bruce.” He said smally, and walked out of the room leaving you and Tony alone.

“Does he hate me?” You asked, not having to say who ‘he’ was because there was only one other person you could be talking about.

“I don’t think he hates you, just is worried about you. You are like his little sister and then you disappeared so..” He trailed off. You just nodded and the room was left silent.

.

About an hour after that last conversation, you were allowed to leave to go under Bruce’s care, which might have been worse than being in the hospital, but at least you were home.

They had you on house arrest, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. Watching you constantly, besides when you were changing of course. You weren’t allowed to be alone anymore. You got where they were coming from,, but you also felt bad that they had to worry about you this much. It made you feel even more guilty about everything that you put them through.

You had finally gotten out of the sick stages of the detox, but now you were in the craving stages. It hurt so much not to have the drug in your system, not having it there to dull the pain inside of you.

You spent some of your nights crying so much that it woke Steve up and he came into your room to hold you and calm you down. Besides that, you guys didn’t talk that much. You could feel the disappointment radiating off of him from miles away.

Bruce had put you on many IV drips to keep you hydrated seen as you refused to drink anything. He also had you bed bound for a few days, but even when you were told you were allowed out of bed, you stayed there because you couldn’t handle the stares from the rest of the team.

They all had returned back to the compound about 3 days after you left, and they had the same looks as Steve did. You couldn’t stand yourself anymore because you made them hate you now and you didn’t know how to fix it. You made a huge mess in your mind and in your life and it was just a cluster fuck to clean up.

[fluffy-critter]

Okay, so, I dropped peewee because of bad behavior on the side of the core maintainer. And then yesterday word got around that SQLite has a… rather tone-deaf but well-meaning CoC that is a bit off-putting. Plenty of people have written about the problems with this CoC itself so it’s not worth me adding my own hot takes on it, and I’m choosing to take Dr. Hipp at his word that he is being sincere about it being a moral framework for working with others and that he doesn’t mean it as a joke (despite the fact that he doesn’t seem to mind the people who are championing it as a “parody of social justice outrage culture” or complaining about the contributor covenant CoC with phrases like “purple-headed feminist” okay argh I’m ranting tangentially again, focus).

(I should also mention that the timing of this going around was only a coincidence vis-a-vis my de-ORMing Publ musing. I actually wrote that article several days earlier, and considered rescheduling its publication because I didn’t want people thinking these things were related!)

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(via busybee)

[kurgarru]

But why is it St James’ Park that Crowley and Aziraphale use for their extremely incognito rendezvous point, for centuries?

We know Crowley’s particular brand of evil is niggling annoyance, and he particularly enjoys getting humans to screw with themselves. Please feast your eyes on the notoriously pornographic poem “A Ramble in St James’ Park”, composed (probably in the early 1670s) by one of the most infamously provocative men of history, that chaotic bisexual human gadfly John Wilmot, the 2nd Earl of Rochester:

“Much wine had passed, with grave discourse

Of who fucks who, and who does worse

(Such as you usually do hear

From those that diet at the Bear),

When I, who still take care to see

Drunkenness relieved by lechery,

Weent out into St. James's Park

To cool my head and fire my heart.

But though St. James has th' honor on 't,

'Tis consecrate to prick and cunt.

There, by a most incestuous birth,

Strange woods spring from the teeming earth;

For they relate how heretofore,

When ancient Pict behan to whore,

Deluded of his assignation

(Jilting, it seems, was then in fashion),

Poor pensive lover, in this place

Would frig upon his mother's face;

Whence rows of mandrakes tall did rise

Whose lewd tops fucked the very skies.

Each imitative branch does twine

In some loved fold of Aretine,

And nightly now beneath their shade

Are buggeries, rapes, and incests made.

Unto this all-sin-sheltering grove

Whores of the bulk and the alcove,

Great ladies, chambermaids, and drudges,

The ragpicker, and heiress trudges.

Carmen, divines, great lords, and tailors,

Prentices, poets, pimps, and jailers,

Footmen, fine fops do here arrive,

And here promiscuously they swive.

Along these hallowed walks it was

That I beheld Corinna pass.

Whoever had been by to see

The proud disdain she cast on me

Through charming eyes, he would have swore

She dropped from heaven that very hour,

Forsaking the divine abode

In scorn of some despairing god.

But mark what creatures women are:

How infinitely vile, when fair!

Three knights o' the' elbow and the slur

With wriggling tails made up to her.

The first was of your Whitehall baldes,

Near kin t' th' Mother of the Maids;

Graced by whose favor he was able

To bring a friend t' th' Waiters' table,

Where he had heard Sir Edward Sutton

Say how the King loved Banstead mutton;

Since when he'd ne'er be brought to eat

By 's good will any other meat.

In this, as well as allthe rest,

He ventures to do like the best,

But wanting common sense, th' ingredient

In choosing well not least expedient,

Converts abortive imitation

To universal affectation.

Thus he not only eats and talks

But feels and smells, sits down and walks,

Nay looks, and lives, and loves by rote,

In an old tawdry birthday coat.

The second was a Grays Inn wit,

A great inhabiter of the pit,

Where critic-like he sits and squints,

Steals pocket handkerchiefs, and hints

From 's neighbor, and the comedy,

To court, and pay, his landlady.

The third, a lady's eldest son

Within few years of twenty-one

bWho hopes from his propitious fate,

Against he comes to his estate,

By these two worthies to be made

A most accomplished tearing blade.

One, in a strain 'twixt tune and nonsense,

Cries, "Madam, I have loved you long since.

Permit me your fair hand to kiss";

When at her mouth her cunt cries, "Yes!"

In short, without much more ado,

Joyful and pleased, away she flew,

And with these three confounded asses

From park to hackney coach she passes.

So a proud bitch does lead about

Of humble curs the amorous rout,

Who most obsequiously do hunt

The savory scent of salt-swoln cunt.

Some power more patient now relate

The sense of this surprising fate.

Gods! that a thing admired by me

Should fall to so much infamy.

Had she picked out, to rub her arse on,

Some stiff-pricked clown or well-hung parson,

Each job of whose spermatic sluice

Had filled her cunt with wholesome juice,

I the proceeding should have praised

In hope sh' had quenched a fire I raised.

Such natural freedoms are but just:

There's something generous in mere lust.

But to turn a damned abandoned jade

When neither head nor tail persuade;

To be a whore in understanding,

A passive pot for fools to spend in!

The devil played booty, sure, with thee

To bring a blot on infamy.

But why am I, of all mankind,

To so severe a fate designed?

Ungrateful! Why this treachery

To humble fond, believing me,

Who gave you privilege above

The nice allowances of love?

Did ever I refuse to bear

The meanest part your lust could spare?

When your lewd cunt came spewing home

Drenched with the seed of half the town,

My dram of sperm was supped up after

For the digestive surfeit water.

Full gorged at another time

With a vast meal of slime

Which your devouring cunt had drawn

From porters' backs and footmen's brawn,

I was content to serve you up

My ballock-full for your grace cup,

Nor ever thought it an abuse

While you had pleasure for excuse -

You tht could make my heart away

For noise and color, and betray

The secrets of my tender hours

To such knight-errant paramours,

When, leaning on your faithless breast,

Wrapped in security and rest,

Soft kindness all my powers did move,

And reason lay dissolved in love!

brkMay stinking vapors choke your womb

Such as the men you dote upon

May your depraved appetite,

That could in whiffling fools delight,

Beget such frenzies in your mind

You may go mad for the north wind,

And fixing all your hopes upon't

To have him bluster in your cunt,

Turn up your longing arse t' th' air

And perish in a wild despair!

But cowards shall forget to rant,

Schoolboys to frig, old whores to paint;

The Jesuits' fraternity

Shall leave the use of buggery;

Crab-louse, inspired with grace divine,

From earthly cod to heaven shall climb;

Physicians shall believe in Jesus,

And disobedience cease to please us,

Ere I desist with all my power

To plague this woman and undo her.

But my revenge will best be timed

When she is married that is limed.

In that most lamentable state

I'll make her feel my scorn and hate:

Pelt her with scandals, truth or lies,

And her poor cur with jealousied,

Till I have torn him from her breech,

While she whines like a dog-drawn bitch;

Loathed and despised, kicked out o' th' Town

Into some dirty hole alone,

To chew the cud of misery

And know she owes it all to me.

And may no woman better thrive

That dares prophane the cunt I swive!”

Headcanon: Crowley takes Aziraphale to St James’ Park in the way a person might hopefully take a date to an arthouse film they’d heard was exceptionally horny but plausibly deniable.

[st-anczyk69]

🫡

has someone already done this or

[st-anczyk69]

pokój Jakuba Adamczewskiego - krótka analiza programu ikonograficznego

(podstawą mojej analizy są ujęcia pokoju zaprezentowane przede wszystkim w epizodach 1, 3 i 4 oraz w filmiku "Welcome to my Dworek" z kanału Netflix na yt, mniej pomocniczy, ale równie warty obejrzenia jest filmik na instagramie Michała Sikorskiego (aktora wicelającego się w rolę Jakuba) "MTv Cribs x 1670" (michalsikorski.official))

Wygląda na to, że w pokoju Jakuba znajdują się cztery obrazy, pięć rzeźb i w ramie łóżka jedna płaskorzeźba.

Zacznijmy od obrazów:

Nad wejściem do jego pokoju, w miejscu, w którym tradycyjnie wiesza się krufcyfiks znajduje się obraz przedstawiający Chrystusa w typie Vir Dolorum (Męża Boleści) (czyli przedstawienie Chrystusa martwego lub zmartwychwstałego, eksponujące rany zadane mu podczas ukrzyżowania). To konkretne przedstawienie to reprodukcja obrazu z niderlandzkiego warsztatu Alberta Boutsa powstałego ok. 1525, znajdującego się w zbiorach The Met (The Man of Sorrows). [screen z 1 odcinka]

Takie przedstawienie Chrystusa ma swoje źródła w ikonografii bizantyjskiej, a w Europie Zachodniej swoją popularność zyskało w ramach propagowanej w późnym średniowieczu pobożności polegającej na uczuciowym rozmyślaniu o męce Chrystusa i tzn. "współodczuwaniu".

Drugi obraz wisi nad łóżkiem Jakuba oraz pojawia się w pierwszej po czołówce scenie w odcinku 4, gdy na chwilę Jakub wiesza go w pokoju Stanisława. Jest to reprodukcja obrazu przedstawiającego Świętego Franciszka z Asyżu włoskiego malarza Antoniazza Romano z lat 1480-81, obecnie w zbiorach The Met (Saint Francis of Assisi). [screeny kolejno z 4, 1 i 3 odcinka]

Święty Franciszek jest założycielem zakonu franciszkanów, który ukształtował w swoich pismach nowy rodzaj duchowości (duchowość franciszkańska), który charakteryzuje duża uczuciowość, wierne naśladowanie Chrystusa - zwłaszcza w aspekcie ubóstwa, bezwarunkowo miłość do bliźniego, a to wszystko połączone z radością życia i uwielbieniem Boga. Na obrazie święty prezentuje stygmaty na dłoniach i na boku.

Kolejne dwa obrazy wiszą nad biurkiem (kanonem?).

Pierwszy z nich, mniejszy i bliżej drzwi to reprodukcja obrazu hiszpańskiego malarza Franciso de Zurbarana z około 1640-45 przedstawiającego Świętego Benedykta z Nursji, znajdującego się w zbiorach The Met (Saint Benedict). [screeny z odcinka 3 i 1]

Świętemu Benedyktowi z Nursji przypisuje się autorstwo reguły benedyktyńskiej. Jest on jedynym z Ojców Kościoła i głównym patronem Europy.

Ostatni obraz wiszący obok obrazu ze świętym Benedyktem, to przedstawienie Hieronimity, Brata Gregorio Belo z włoskiego miasta Vicenza pędzla włoskiego malarza Lorenza Lotto z 1547 roku, obecnie w zbiorach The Met (Brother Gregorio Belo of Vicenza). [screeny z odcinka 1 oraz ze wspomnianego wyżej (i podlinkowanego) filmiku z instagrama Michała Sikorskiego]

Zdaje się (co widać na screenie instagramowym), że na reprodukcji dodano nimb wokół głowy brata Gregoria. Zasadniczo nie jest to przedstawienie świętego - o bracie Gregoriu nic nie znalazłam i zdaje się, że jest to po prostu przedstawienie mnicha (Hieronimity) podczas pobożnej kontemplacji męki Chrystusa (która jako projekcja jego rozważań ukazana została w tle - tak przynajmniej podaje notka na stornie The Met) w ujęciu powielającym schemat, w którym najczęściej przedstawiano Świętego Hieronima ze Strydonu, założyciela kongregacji eremickiej, do której należał sportretowany.

Pięć rzeźb znajduje się w rogu pokoju na przeciw drzwi wejściowych, tworząc rodzaj "ołtarzyka" przed którym stoi klęcznik. Figury ustawione są na prostych, niepolichromowanych drewnianych konsolach. W odróżnieniu od obrazu rzeźba jest obiektem przestrzennym, co znacznie utrudnia wybór takowej do scenografii - z obrazami sprawa jest prosta - w ramy wsadza się reprodukcje, która pokryta werniksem albo po prostu pokazana w naturalnym świetle w oku kamery niewiele różni się od faktycznego obrazu. Tymczasem wykonanie przekonującej reprodukcji rzeźby drewnianej jest zdecydowanie trudniejszym i bardziej pracochłonnym zadaniem. Stąd, wydaje mi się, rzeźby te nie powtarzają żadnych znanych dzieł, a są po prostu rzeźbami prezentującymi szeroko przyjęte typy figur dewocyjnych, jakie cały czas można kupić do kościoła lub kaplicy (na przykład tutaj - niepolichromowane rzeźby drewniane również dewocyjne, całkiem swoją drogą podobne do rzeźby środkowej). [screeny z odcinka 1 i z filmiku "Welcome to my Dworek"]

Rzeźba środkowa przedstawia Chrystusa błogosławiącego i jest jedyną rzeźbą niepolichromowaną.

Pierwsza od lewej jest Maria z dzieciątkiem, następnie Święty Antoni Padewski (?), franciszkanin i cudo twórca (znajomy Świętego Franciszka z Asyżu), patron osób i rzeczy zaginionych, dzieci, małżeństw i narzeczeństw (według ludowej tradycji pomagający dziewczętom znaleźć dobrych narzeczonych). W ikonografii przedstawiany często (tak jak na naszym przykładzie) z Dzieciątkiem Jezus na ręce (wtedy zwykle w drugiej trzyma kwiat lilii - tutaj tego nie ma, nasz święty trzyma chyba coś innego, ale nie jestem w stanie powiedzieć, co to jest, stąd trochę niepewne rozpoznanie). [screeny z filmiku "Welcome to my Dworek"]

Na prawo od dużej rzeźby Chrystusa znajduje się najpierw rzeźba Świętego Piotra - następcy Chrystusa jako głowy kościoła i tym samym pierwszego biskupa Rzymu. Święty Piotr jest uważany za najważniejszego spośród dwunastu apostołów, któremu Chrystus przekazał władzę nad Kościołem na Ziemi, co realizuje się w motywie przekazania Piotrowi przez Chrystusa kluczy - stąd klucz jako najbardziej rozpowszechniony atrybut tego świętego, widoczny również w dłoni naszej rzeźby. Ostatnia rzeźba na prawo to Święty Paweł (?) - rozpoznanie to opieram na trzymanym przez postać mieczu (stałym atrybucie Świętego Pawła), dodatkowo Paweł jest w ikonografii nadzwyczaj często przedstawiany właśnie wraz z Piotrem. Święty Paweł jest wedle tradycji uważany za Apostoła Narodów (choć formalnie nie był nigdy uczniem Jezusa; nawrócił się po jego Wniebowstąpieniu), jest również uważany za autora 1 Listu do Koryntian, którego fragmentem jest tzn. "Hymn o Miłości". [screeny z filmiku "Welcome do my Dworek" oraz z odcinka 4]

Oczywiście z dużym prawdopodobieństwem każda z tych rzeźba jest powieleniem lub odległym echem jakiejś stosunkowo znanej kompozycji; ich dokładne opisanie i rozpoznanie pozostaje sprawą otwartą.

Jak już wspomniałam w pokoju Jakuba znajduje się jeszcze, w wezgłowiu łóżka płaskorzeźba. Przedstawia ona Świętego Jerzego podczas walki ze smokiem; jest to przedstawienie epizodu ze średniowiecznej legendy, często powtarzanej w średniowiecznych romansach. Święty Jerzy jest patron rolników, pasterzy i pól (jego dzień (23 albo 24 kwietnia) uważano za najlepszy dla rozpoczęcia prac polowych), pod jego patronatem powstało również wiele bractw rycerskich i zgromadzeń zakonnych oraz zakonów rycerskich. [screeny z odcinka 1 i 2]

Poza tym zlokalizować można w pokoju Jakuba dwa (?) krucyfiksy; jeden stoi na kominku i jest to prosty w swojej formie, drewniany krzyż na podwyższeniu. Co do drugiego (krzyż również drewniany, ale z polichromowanym wizerunkiem Chrystusa, wiszący a nie stojący), to sprawa jest trochę bardziej skomplikowana, ponieważ widzimy go tylko w filmiku "Welcome to my Dworek", w pojedynczy, kadrze, nie widzimy go jednak ani razu w szerszym ujęciu pokoju; stąd wniosek, że jeśli w ogóle już się tam faktycznie znajduje, to musi wisieć między łóżkiem a drzwiami, w miejscu, którego ani razu nie widzimy, ponieważ zasłania je otwarte skrzydło drzwi. [screeny z filmiku "Welcome to my Dworek"]

Wnioski

Trzeba przyznać, że po tej analizie wnioski są marne. Zdaje się, że obecne w pokoju Jakuba obrazy i rzeźby ani nie układają się w żaden przemyślany program ikonograficzny ani nie stanowią grupy precyzyjnie wybranej (O zaskoczenie!).

Najbardziej "pasujący" do konwencji tych wszystkich narzędzi "pokutnych" obecnych w pokoju Jakuba i sugerowanego tym samym zainteresowania cierpieniem wydaje mi się obraz Vir dolorum wiszący nad drzwiami i być może dlatego właśnie on jest w serialu najlepiej wyeksponowany.

Obraz z przedstawieniem Świętego Franciszka jest dla mnie zagadką, ponieważ zarówno to, że w swoim "stanie spoczynku" wisi nad łóżkiem Jakuba oraz to, że jest jak gdyby "obrazem symbolem" użytym w momencie, w którym Jakub chce pokazać, że zastąpi Stanisława w jego roli dziedzica (Stanisława reprezentuje tam obraz przedstawiający gitarzystę), wydaje się sugerować jakieś szczególne znaczenie tego przedstawienia dla Jakuba lub szczególne jego znaczenie jako "oznaczającego" Jakuba. Stąd zresztą w pierwszej chwili, bez przyjrzenia się i bez kwerendy uznałam, że to pewnie przedstawienie Świętego Jakuba - wtedy analogia, jako że obraz przedstawiał by patrona Jakuba, jego świętego imiennika, była by oczywista. Tymczasem przynajmniej bazując na tym co wiemy, nie da się w tym miejscu wytłumaczyć Świętego Franciszka.

(btw czy ktoś wie, czy w czasach nowożytnych określenie "Ojciec" było, tak jak dziś zarezerwowane jedynie dla zakonników-kapłanów czy zwyczajowo mówiło się tak też do księży spoza zgromadzeń zakonnych?)

Z tym, że choć ewentualna przynależność do zgromadzenia zakonnego, mogłaby tłumaczyć portret Świętego Franciszka (należałoby założyć wtedy przynależność Jakuba do zgromadzenia franciszkańskiego), to należy uwzględnić jeszcze przedstawienie Świętego Benedykta nad biurkiem, które równie dobrze mogłoby sugerować przynależność do benedyktynów. Poza tym brak w moim odczuciu jakiś oznak pobożności franciszkańskiej w Jakubie (ktoś by mnie zapytał czy widać jakąkolwiek pobożność, ale zdaje mi się, że bardziej valid byłaby próba powiązania go np. z bardziej jezuickim podejściem do sprawy (ale jezuitów brak pośród przedstawień w pokoju)). Może przewaga świętych franciszkańskich (Franciszek i rzeźba Antoniego Padewskiego) faktycznie coś sugeruje, ale wydaje mi się to raczej mało prawdopodobne biorąc pod uwagę całokształt.

Wspomniałam już o Świętym Benedykcie, co zaś do obrazu obok przedstawiającego brata Gregoria to w ogóle nie mam nic do powiedzenia poza tym, że wygląda to dla mnie na wybór całkowicie przypadkowy.

Moja teoria dotycząca obrazów jest dość prosta - być może Netflix ma umowę z The Met, która zezwala na dowolne użycie ich reprodukcji ich zbiorów w produkcjach Netflixa i tym samym jedynym, kryterium wyboru była przynależność do kolekcji The Met (choć chyba dałoby się wybrać lepiej).

Co do rzeźb to tak, jak już poniekąd napisałam, podejrzewam, że ich wybór odbył się na zasadzie "to co w miarę łatwo pozyskać to weźmiemy". Podobnie pewnie było z łóżkiem, bo nie podejrzewam, żeby płaskorzeźba była tam wtórnie wstawiona.

Oczywiście obecność każdego z przedstawień da się jakoś tam wytłumaczyć wewnątrz lore - najprostszym sposobem na to może być "Jakuba tak naprawdę w ogóle nie interesuje jakie obrazy wiszą w jego pokoju i jakie rzeźby tam stoją i zostały przez niego wybrane na chybił trafił" (chociaż dręczyć w tym ujęciu i tak będzie mnie ten Święty Franciszek).

Ale ja bym rzecz jasna wolała, żeby jakieś szersze ikonograficzne znaczenie w tym wszystkim było, a chyba go nie ma.

(W opisie pojedynczych obiektów starałam się mimo to w większości uwypuklić te ich znaczenia, które można jakoś zinterpretować na korzyść).

[edit - dalsze przemyślenia]

Jeśli teoria o ograniczeniu wyboru dzieł do zbiorów The Met narzuconym przez Netflix jest prawdziwa (czas zbudować hipotezę na hipotezie), to po dość szybkim ale chyba całkiem dokładnym obejrzeniu zbiorów The Met malarstwa Europejskiego (a te w przedziale lat 1300-1670 nie robią niestety zbyt wielkiego wrażenia) zaczynam chyba rozumieć modus operandi. Przede wszystkim wybór zawężono (dość mocno) do przedstawień portretowych, rezygnując z wybrania obrazów ukazujących epizody z historii świętej lub z życia świętych, ograniczając się zdaje się do zasady „jeden obraz - jedna postać, i to najlepiej nie wykonująca żadnej czynności” (decyzja, którą nie do końca umiem sobie wytłumaczyć!). Po drugie odrzucono wizerunki. Marii z dzieciątkiem, których w zbiorach The Met mnóstwo, zakładam, że w ramach większej ���maskulinizacji” przestrzeni (że tak powiem) (wszak jedna tylko rzeźba Marii się pojawia, ale wyjątek potwierdza regułę i jedna jaskółka wiosny nie czyni). Po trzecie zdaje się, że odrzucono pomysł powtórzenia obecności jednej postaci (poza Chrystusem) dwukrotnie, co najpewniej sprawiło, że odrzucono obrazy przedstawiające Świętego Franciszka Frederica Barocciego i Il Grechetta, które są ładniejsze (ciekawsze!) i zdają się bardziej sensowne niż ten portret brata Gregoria, ale najwyraźniej, mimo że postać Franciszka podkreślono (pewnie wcale nie celowo), to najwyraźniej nikt nie chciał w to brnąć jeszcze bardziej.

Fajny też obraz Filippa Tarchiani przedstawiający samobiczującego się Świętego Dominika odrzucono być może ze względu na częściową goliznę świętego.

W tak zawężonej grupie dokonany przez scenarzystów (albo kogoś tam) wybór (przypominam tylko przy założeniu konieczności wybrania dzieł z The Met!) staje się zrozumiały.

Dziękuję za uwagę! :)

[st-anczyk69]

codziennie przechodzę pięć stadiów żałoby jak myślę o tym, jak Netflix sobie nie poradzi z drugim sezonem 1670