#Class of 1888 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

2demondogs · 1 month ago

Note

Can you do Arthur and BioKid!reader (prob age around 5-7) where Arthur sent his kid to school (around 1870, school began to become free) because even if he knows he could teach his kid the basics, he wants better for them.

As we know, schools back then did physical punishments. If a kid lacked behind their fellow students, teachers often saw it as laziness and would punish the kid.

Arthurs kid, who was very excited to attend school, came back from it sobbing their eyes out because they were canned (hit) on their hands for not understanding math and begging that Arthur doesn't send them back.

Obv Arthur, being an amazing dad, doesn't send them back and taught them stuff himself.

Weirdly enough I had a very similar experience at that age but in ballet class. Are any of us okay?

Historical accuracy was attempted. Though the image of being dropped off at school on a horse is absolutely hilarious to me. "Okay little buddy here's a cigarette for lunch, I'll clip clop back at 4. Daddy's gonna go rob a bank now. Hyah!!"

Arthur's a cigarette mom tbh. Also this took literally like 2 months for me to get to I'm so sorry LOL I wanted some familial comfort so I was finally in the headspace for it.

Words: 3k Tags: AU - canon divergence, pre-canon (circa 1888), hurt/comfort, it takes a village so the gang's all here too, angst but also a lotta fluff Arthur is just being Arthur (aka a killjoy), gender-neutral reader

Few things in his life have brought Arthur as much pride — in someone else, in himself — as the grin plastered on your face the first day of school.

Boadicea disliked the amount of people, the small kids that tried to stroke her legs before being beckoned away by their parents. Most were used to animals like her, but he could tell the city-bred ones from his own kind: brighter faces, slower walks, cleaner nails. It's the same as their parents, dressed well and sometimes in automobiles.

What an odd gathering these schoolrooms make for. He's always thought it'd be funny to have punted John in the direction of one, but he finds he's had a wrong idea about the crowd. Wouldn't have been as satisfying as he imagined when the man was just a boy, wily and jaded and just like all the other farm kids that he saw trudge in and out yesterday. (Of course, when John showed curiosity about it and asked him what the crowd was like, he told him he was far too stupid to dream of going to school. He is a father, but he ain't John's.)

In another life, he might even stick around to converse with the other parents. He'd pondered it that first day, feeding Boadicea an apple for the trip from camp some miles off and to this building on the edge of town. Arthur wondered if he had had you ten years later, and if he were not so much younger than all these parents, and if you were not so—

Well, misplaced in the world. His own fault. He thinks of it everyday.

He studies the bricks while he smokes and waits at the side of the building, now, early as he was yesterday lest he miss something important. What it would be, he doesn't know. Perhaps he just hopes you'll be given back to him sooner today, because he's coming to realize he's grown fond of knowing exactly where you are. After your mother died, the clinginess is a little more souring than he'd like to feel, so he doesn't study it.

Instead, he flicks ash off his cigarette and considers that it's going to get chilly soon. You've grown since last winter, and he ought to make sure you still fit your coat when he brings you home.

He doubts Grimshaw will mind making you another; seems to like you. Pities you, anyways, because your father is the young, dumb oaf Arthur Morgan. That woman drives him insane, sometimes, but he has learned that she cares in her own way ever since you came along. A certain softness came out in her that, rarely but truly, extended to him, too.

The cigarette is replaced by another by the time the kids begin to pour out of the doors. Youngest first, so there's no wait to see you searching for him.

Already, Arthur knows something is wrong. There's no difference from your usual face, besides whatever calm comes over it when you lay eyes on him— but that calm looks more like an ache for comfort that concerns him, even though he can't tell what, precisely, tips him off. He supposes it's the same thing that changed him to the point of considering your winter clothes, whatever thing makes him a father instead of a simple man.

The ground is tough and sandy below his knee when he drops to one to meet your eyes, brows raised in expectance of some explanation. Even your gait is quicker, your hug tighter; you aren't talking like you were yesterday, let alone grinning, and Arthur pinches his cigarette in his teeth to smooth a hand over your head and back.

That smile had made you seem so grown-up, but now you look so young and small. He takes the smoke from his lips and holds the hand to the side to keep it from your face.

"How's your day, buddy?" He asks, anyways, and frowns when you shrink in his arms and press closer. Peeling away to take a look at you, Arthur runs a hand over the side of your head to brush away your hair. He doesn't see any bruises or scrapes, but still asks: "Y'get in a fight or somethin'?"

You shake your head. His hand is large where it lays on your shoulder, firm and comforting. It only takes a moment for you to give up the silence and struggle to explain.

"She called me lazy," you say.

Arthur's brows furrow. "Teacher, you mean?"

You nod, speaking as if it's difficult not to burst into a shout. Around you, the older kids begin to pour out, but he is only focused on your voice. "She smacked me with a ruler."

"What?" He interrupts.

It comes out harsher than he means it to, and he strokes a hand over your head when you flinch. Jesus, you're on edge if you're flinching at him. Anger broils hot and instant in his gut; he knows very well how most people raise their kids and he had talked long and hard with Grimshaw for yanking on your ear one too many times but regardless, it isn't anyone's place to lay a hand on you. It isn't even his — he isn't Lyle, and you're considerably more of an angel than he ever has been himself — but it certainly isn't anyone else's.

"Where?" His eyes pass over you, searching.

Looking over the handsewn clothes Grimshaw had done-up for you, adorned with those gaudy little buttons Dutch had popped off of some nice suit jackets during a gathering he'd infiltrated some months ago, Arthur feels even more anger. Six years of raising you and dressing you in love.

It certainly is not her right to smack his child. Our child, he thinks, and the fondness only feeds the disgust. Suddenly, he wonders what you didn't tell him the first day, and if some of those wailing kids were sad for more than simply missing mother dearest.

You hold out your hands, backs up. A few knuckles are swollen, and you wince when he traces a fingertip over them to test how badly.

He bites back a sigh. He feels like he should've known this would happen, although not a single one of them has been inside a schoolhouse. Maybe Grimshaw, seems the type, but she never spoke of it. Still, Arthur thinks he should've known it the same way he knows you'll grow out of your coat this winter.

Isn't it what fathers do? Know things? Lyle hadn't been much of a father, but he always knew things.

Is Arthur worse off than him?

"Why'd she do this?" He asks.

Your face is growing redder and redder, flushed with embarrassment and shame. He wishes he had the words to soothe that, but he knows a scolding like this always leaves a certain rawness in a child. He'd had plenty of them himself.

"I was bein'... in— inatten..." The frustration of not being able to remember and repeat the word wells tears in your eyes, but Arthur's heard enough.

"Hey, it's a'right," he hushes, shaking his head. Takes a quick drag and blows it to the side. "Let's get'chu home, okay?"

You ignore him, trying to explain: "I was bad at math."

"Shit, I ain't no good with numbers, neither," Arthur says, and then catches himself. "Don't say shit. Okay?" You nod. A small flicker of your lips into a smile makes him feel better, though you still look like a kicked puppy and it makes his heart ache. "Let's get'chu home," he repeats, and this time you listen.

He's never seen Hosea so displeased.

That's untrue; he has, over gunshots and blood-puddles. It feels like a gunshot to see you burst into tears, curled into the man's chest after Arthur tried to encourage you to talk to him about what happened. He had always been better with words, but he remembers while watching him handle your sobbing that Hosea has always been better with comfort, too.

Hardly had the man picked you off your spot hugged to Arthur's front atop Boadicea — did so yesterday too, and if today was just as happy then Arthur would've been glad to see it turn into a habit — before you broke into tears once more. He had quieted you eventually on the ride with the promise of not returning, although he intended to talk it over with the others before he decided once and for all.

Our kid, he thinks warmly, and then: I feel like a kid myself. Some things come naturally when you have a child, he's finding, but so much of it just doesn't.

"Teacher smacked 'em with a ruler. Poor thing's knuckles are all..." Arthur explains, sighing heavily, waving with a hand in the air as if to say: fucked up. Hosea will jump off that crate he's sat on and smack him if he talks that foul in front of you. At least I'm grown enough to take a flick to the nose, he thinks bitterly. "Doesn't wanna go back, now."

Hosea seems to struggle through the same thoughts as he did, prying your hand off his chest to take a look. It's normal for others, though not for them. Not with you, at least. He can almost see the memories of similar punishments in his eyes. Still, Hosea pats your back and picks you off himself to hold your face.

"You think your Daddy knows everything you need to know, anyways, do you?" He asks.

It's a tease, mostly, humor to get you to stop crying. You're too upset to realize, and only nod. Arthur could cry himself at that. I'm still a kid myself, he thinks, in the back of his mind; Hosea only smiles at him, before righting his expression to look at you.

"I figure we all do," he says. Looking to Arthur, he raises his brows. "You intendin' to try again?"

Arthur sighs, shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't feel so dissimilar to you: vaguely ashamed, upset, embarrassed. "I was gon' ask what'chu thought I oughtta do," he admits.

Almost imperceptibly, Hosea's face softens further. "Well," he says, looks back to you to dry your eyes and wipe your nose with the sleeve of his button-up. Natural-born for a man that's never raised kids this young. "I never was in school, 'n' I'd say I'm quite well-educated."

"Never had a class on humbleness, I see," Arthur says.

Hosea snorts. "Don't listen to him," he says without sparing a glance.

"What's humbleness?" You ask, oblivious.

"Oh," Arthur says, steps forward to ruffle the hair atop your head. "Y'see, Uncle Dutch is real humble."

The other man bites his cheek to stave off a smile. "Arthur," he warns, looking up at him.

But it's a good opportunity to send you off and allow the two of them to talk in private, so he leans over to catch your gaze. "If you go tell Dutch he's humble, I'll give you a dollar," he promises, patting your shoulder.

"Is humble mean?" You ask.

"Y'catch on quick," Arthur says, grinning. John has certainly given you coins to say worse to him, though he found it funny each time. Your face is puffy and red, and he finds it sweet that you paused every other thought going through your head to consider it. "No, it ain't mean, sweetheart. Very nice, in fact."

Very mean to lie about, he thinks, and when you turn on your heel to go and earn yourself a dollar, he knows you will be just fine. Hosea laughs only when you've pattered away.

"Odd critters, kids," Arthur says. He sounds far too fond.

It was an easy choice. It had been a stretch to even take you to school, and the adults had all agreed that you'd likely miss most of it, anyways. They could only change so much about their lives, even if it was no way to raise you.

Sometimes Arthur wonders what it'd be like to live a normal life with you. To find someone to help him raise you proper, like a civilized family. He doesn't speak of it, but he's sure they all know that he wonders. Maybe they do, too. He thinks on it less after testing those waters with school, but once in a blue moon, the dream comes back to him.

Arthur ran into a block, as far as teaching you how to read went. He'd sat you on his lap and tried his damnedest to answer the fifty questions that every sentence of Dutch's borrowed book provoked you to ask, but he had run out of answers very quickly despite it being one of the simplest ones he had to offer.

For the last two days, he has been laying awake at night trying to answer why, exactly, bear means both an animal and an action that seemingly makes no sense. Tried and failed to use Hosea's beat-up old Bible to teach you a few words, because by the second verse it was losing him a little, too. That one made him feel quite stupid.

Hosea is better suited for that, they'd decided. He seemed a little tired being asked to teach yet another person to read, but Arthur knows that irritation is only skin-deep and watches it disappear whenever you're around. When Arthur said he wasn't sure where to start with writing, either, Hosea put a hand on his shoulder and told him the alphabet in a tone that told him he was on his own, unless he really got too lost.

It is fair. Arthur wants to teach you as much as he can, too, finds a sort of warmth about it.

The pride he feels watching you copy the alphabet he'd printed out — as steady as he could, admittedly nervous he'd screw it up and somehow damage your intellect forever, is this what being a dad feels like? — was greater than any he'd felt before. Your handwriting is unsteady, and he has to readjust the pencil in your grip more than once, but by all accounts, it is much easier to answer what sound does this make? than what's a garden?

He lets you work. Arthur likes, too, that this way your first writings will be kept in his journal. He already protects it like a sacred thing; now, it'll probably be on his body or in his pocket until you're old enough to marry someone. Even then, if all goes well, he'll have it.

Oh, how the thought of you growing up distresses him. He can't imagine what you might look like older, even though it sneaks up on him every year come your birthday that your eyes and nose are looking more adjusted to your skull, that your face is sharpening out from baby-round. He could hardly picture John as anything but the scraggly little mutt Dutch dragged back into camp when he had. It's a familiar, more intense fear.

Shit, Arthur doesn't even know what he himself will look like come three year's time.

He's twenty-five and still changing. Will he see what your face settles on?

Is this what it is to be a father?

He thinks so. There can't be any other truth, because he's faced this feeling every time you've hit a milestone. He was glad you didn't need to be carried constantly anymore, but so very depressed that you could walk; he was overjoyed when you said his name clear as day for the first time, but he was terrified at the thought that he may one day be Arthur to you.

It's sad, but it makes him smile when you look up and proclaim that your wobbly rendition of the letter W — dubba-yuh, as you say, he won't ever get over how children always sound like they are drunk — looks almost exactly like his.

Grimshaw and Hosea make a fuss, playing cards at the poker table some yards away. You ignore them entirely, absorbed in your own little world, writing at your own pace. With ears that turn off so easily, he worries about how you'll do hunting. He could've heard Grimshaw asking Hosea in exasperation why he's not cheating, you old fool, from a mile away.

Then comes Dutch, after you've scrawled a few more letters. Walking quiet up to the pair of you sat in the grass outside Arthur's tent, observing from above you before he speaks.

"Arthur?" He asks, and he sounds odd, considering that they're doing nothing unusual.

He looks up. "Yeah?"

Dutch points to the open journal. You look between them, then, interested in whatever is going on now that your dad is involved. "Did you forget the letter Z?"

Arthur squints, looks back at the journal. Oh. His ears turn red, but he only clears his throat. "I mean, who uses Z anyways?" He dismisses.

The prospect of being able to show some kind of smartness beyond a full-grown adult's seems to excite you. "Where's Z go?" You ask Dutch.

He kneels, takes the pencil and book from you to write it in after Y. In cursive. Christ, Arthur thinks, but he doesn't say anything.

"Right here, my dear," he says. Handing you the pencil back, he smiles as you skip over the others to add your own interpretation early. "Now, will you cover your ears for me?" Perplexed, but you obey anyways. Arthur is already narrowing his eyes before Dutch turns to him. "You are a goddamn fool, you know that?"

There's no malice in it, only amusement. He looks positively chuffed, which almost irritates Arthur more than if he truly meant to call him an idiot. "Who even uses Z?" He repeats, waves a hand. "It ain't that big'a mistake."

"I don't know," Dutch scoffs. "A zebra?"

"A zebra?" Arthur says, in disbelief. "You ever seen one for y'self?"

Dutch's brows raise. "Are you—?" His face falls into mock graveness. "Arthur Morgan," he says, feigning disappointment. "You can't be serious."

"Well, have you?"

"I ain't gon' dignify that with a response," Dutch says, turns to smile at you. He always smiles at you, at least, Arthur likes that about the man. He plucks one of your hands off your head. "You're good, now, honey. Keep writin'."

56 notes · View notes

turbulentscrawl · 8 months ago

Note

Since the topic of body hcs and body hair hcs overall...may I ask what do you think survivors smell like? I've seen some people differ and I just wanna know your thoughts ;w;

Also, we've gotta be honest. They *will* stink at times, specially after matches. But hey that's only but natural so *shrugs*.

They definitely smell more distinct than I think we'd be used to in general, yeah. And I DON'T think most of them smell unique enough to say how they're different from others, specifically, but there are a few things to consider, if we're looking at it a little more realistically:

More regular cleanliness was becoming normal in the 1800s, when most of the survivors were from, but the actual frequency of bathing varied by class and career. Showering daily still was not common until the 1900s, though. Even without any concerns about water supply in the manor, I would imagine most of them average a full clean-up maybe twice a week? A little more for those who get into actual filth on their days off. (looking at Emma, since she digs in the dirt and spend a lot of time outside.)

Deodorent was not invented until 1888, and didn't become popular until the 1930s or so. And most early deodorents didn't come with much in the way of additional scents, rather they just killed bacteria that caused excess body odors. Most of the people in the manor would not have used this, except perhaps the latest arrivals like Frederick and Alice. Instead, before deodorant, people took steps like shaving their underarms to prevent more sweat and bad scents, and used products like perfume and talcum powder to freshen up and get rid of odors.

Fancier soaps were around in the 1800s, but were used sparingly and economically. The lower class especially would have made their own ashen lye soap to bathe and wash their clothes. (Which, if you've never smelled unscented lye soap, is not pleasant to the nose imo. It's a bit of a pungent chemical smell, mixed with the scent of whatever the soap base was, which was usually lard and olive oil.) More expensive soaps could have been made from things like almond oil, coconut oil, or goat's milk, plus herbs or extracts for something much better smelling.

There's not a ton of hard labor to do in the manor, which would keep some people from working up so much of a sweat, but there's not likely an AC there. On the plus side, I don't imagine there's too much weather fluctuation in the manor for the sake of keeping the passage of time as confusing as possible, which also means it's not getting too hot. Most of the temperature changes you experience would be on the maps. I also don't think a lot of the Hunters would sweat! Any of those who have been dead and were brought back probably don't perspire anymore, though they may have the slightest hint of something off about them.

In short...yeah there's definitely more BO than we're used to in most modern settings. Most of the people in the manor are going to smell pretty natural--which won't always be offensive to the nose, mind you, since they say the smell of someone who's right for you will smell GOOD--plus some talcum/baby power or perfume scents to 'soften the blow' a bit. (Though it wasn't really in fashion to DROWN yourself in perfume by most of these peoples' time, so I think only a few people might lay it on too thick. Mary or Vera, for instance.)

And some people probably maintain very small scent hints about their professions or lives before the manor, just to distinguish them up close. Luchino has a touch of carbolic acid on his clothes, from sterilizing tools in the lab. Norton still smells of coal and minerals, just a touch. Victor smells a bit like sun-heated dog due to walking around outside all day with Wick, and Ithaqua like snowy pine trees from his years wandering and guarding winter woods. You get the idea.

I won't say who I think smells the worst or the best because that;s just too subjective--especially since I've revealed I don't like the smell of lye which is probably what most of them would have used LOL. But I'm definitely not one to say 'let's fully suspend our disbelief and say Naib smells freshly showered and uses Old Spice 😜'.

#turbulentanswers #turbulentscrawl #multiple idv characters #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x reader

85 notes · View notes

splatooshy · 1 year ago

Text

tvdu headcanons

yes these are completely correct, no i do not take criticism. either compliment me and my clever thoughts or walk away.

damon

- pretends his initials stand for ‘damon fucking salvatore.’

- Humanity isn’t something Damon lacks. He ignores it sometimes, but he did that when he was human too

- shy. so PAINFULLY shy. that didn’t change until post 70s.

- fav colour is jade green.

- born in italy, then lily had multiple miscarriages over 5 years and giuseppe decided they would move to america for better prospects, and stefan was born in mf.

- giuseppe despised anything ‘foreign’, and would lock damon in the cellar when he slipped up. never mind that damon didn’t really know any english.

- named his first horse (a shetland pony) sir handsome. loved his horses. hated people, loved animals.

- bibliophile. brains over brawn.

- gets banned from new orleans every few decades. marcel HATES him. also was in nola in 1914, freya and kol both took pity on him/ befriended damon after he managed to piss off the witches AND marcel in one day.

- always had the most inconvenient crushes as a human. the first was the daughter of some middle class storekeeper when he was eight. the second was emily bennett (his secret bff) and the third was a dude with a horse when he was a teenager. stablehand/riding instructor/ young gent passing through, named sebastian. giuseppe caught the boys fooling around one day and promptly shot sebastian in the head, before beating damon within an inch of his life (WOAH I WROTE THIS SO CASUALLY). damon never fully recovered.

- finds grimoires to bring to his favourite witch at the time. often the spells are super wacky and mostly useless.

- chatty and clingy drunk.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

- in the 30s, he became a professional dancer.

stefan

- fav colour is an icy, glacial blue.

- nobody knows what his first language is. His first few words were either Italian or French, but it’s not certain which one. of course, giuseppe locked damon in the cellar for that.

- first horse was sir handsome, a hand-me-down from damon. loved both people and animals, but most of all loved when damon was introducing him to the animals.

- actually the cutest little child ever. big green eyes and floppy blonde-ish hair. looked like a five-year-old until he was 13? 14? and then suddenly shot up really quick.

- bull in a china shop. brawn over brains.

- the ‘ripper’ was created by lexi. she isolated and abused stefan, manipulating him into whatever she wanted.

- chronic migraine sufferer.

- as a human, he physically could not eat when nervous, which just so happened to be 80% of the time.

- rarely gets drunk but is a very outgoing and slutty drunk.

- lizard brain blood lusty ripper stefan only speaks italian.

- model aeroplane / train / car kind of guy.

- tumbled down into a well twice as a human.

- built the engine for the first automobile, passed it onto henry ford.

enzo

- likes the challenge of getting his way without resorting to compulsion (which is cheating.)

- has the stickiest fingers. he didn’t become a little street urchin in london without picking up some skills.

- turned by jack the ripper in 1888. approached him mid-murder.

- physically incapable of hating damon. and believe me, he’s tried.

- after augustines, physically cant sleep alone, and half the time wakes up only to realise he’s killed his bedpartner (strangling, decap., suffocation etc.)

klaus

- went to college a few times to study art. ended up stabbing the teacher [with a paintbrush] because they critiqued his work.

- was tsar nicholas 2 as a joke, purposely ended the dynasty.

elijah

- slipped ecstasy into klaus’ drink in the 80s just to see what would happen.

rebekah

- had a habit of accidentally wandering as a kid.

- clairvoyant / clairsentient.

- very partial to throwing knives.

kol

- bffs with charles 2, gets knighted (inspired by that episode of parks and rec where ben and andy meet the rich british guy)

- refers to stefan as klaus’ estranged paramour

- mixes vervain and wolfsbane into joints and such to get klaus to chill the fuck out. and mixing vervain into other drugs and stuff so that they’d affect him - damon joins the operation in 1914.

- was jack the ripper in 1888, saw a man drowning in his own blood in an alleyway, just watching as kol disemboweled a prostitute, before approaching him like ‘please sir, can you spare any change?’ and kol was delighted.

- damon pissed off marcel in 1914 and kol decided at that moment they were best friends.

- BIG fan of the ottoman empire. it only collapsed because kol was daggered.

- has grimoires full of odd spells.

alaric

- owns vervain coated knuckle dusters

- basically begs damon to talk history with him.

elena

- pre-accident: queen bee and she knew it. at her core, she is self-centred and used to getting her way. this only changes with her parents’ accident, but eventually elena reverts back into her old self.

- refers to katherine as her identical grandmother

[ - bitchy stares. not even an rbf, her face is just super expressive and you can tell when she’s judging you ]

caroline

- was second to elena all her life, and elena knew how to fuel that envy of caroline’s. but then elena’s parents died and caroline was finally #1, except stefan shows up and it’s back to the elena show again.

[ - well-meaning but tone deaf ]

both elena and caroline are just those bitchy popular girls.

[ bonnie ]

[ i have so many for her but a lot are completely against canon so here’s the ones that could be ]

[ - best cheerleader on the squad // the older girls adopted her as their flyer from day 1 ]

[ - because she’s tiny, yanno? ]

[ - known as the ‘i dunno her but she seems nice’ one, the ‘quiet, seems really sweet but i think she hates me’ one and ‘elena’s minion’ ]

[ - but she’s actually more popular overall ‘cause she does all the volunteering / xtra curricular stuff with caroline and she’s not in your face about it ]

[ - has very weirdly specific daily rituals as to what she eats and when on which day (waffle wednesday), what pyjamas she wears, how her pillows are arranged, etc. ]

[ - she didn’t even notice she did all of that until she was at a sleepover and the other kid’s mum made a different breakfast to what she would usually have on that day and bonnie was like ‘hmm. i seem to be uncomfortable with this. why is that?’ but sucked it up and ate her breakfast without saying anything ]

#tvd #damon salvatore #denzo #elijah mikaelson #tvd fanfiction #bi damon salvatore #elena gilbert #stefan salvatore #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #enzo st. john #kol mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #headcanon

205 notes · View notes

ed-wwarren · 2 years ago

Text

April 2nd, 1888

London, England

Ed Warren was a man who wasn’t afraid of getting his hands a little dirty. He never had been. Being born to a poor father who could hardly keep food on the table due to his constant drunkenness meant they from an early age, Ed had to work to support himself and his father and the only jobs they were available for young kids in America were in stable hands and brick layers.

His father didn’t appreciate the hard work he put into keeping them both alive, though. His father frequently saw to it that Ed’s life was unfair and unjust and torturous.

He beat Ed to unconsciousness one particularly bad night when he was only seventeen and that had been enough. He had taken seventeen years of abuse and neglect and when he came to, he walked out of the shack he had been born in, where his mother had died, and snuck on a boat they was hopefully going far far away from America.

When he got to land again, it was months later and it was on the coast of England. He had wandered the countryside, taking odd jobs here and there but never finding a place to truly settle and find work. It wasn’t until one of the stable hands at a farm he managed to get a weeks with of work at had suggested he travel to London. There were never any shortages of jobs there. So that is exactly what he did.

Now, four years later, Ed had been working for a rather kind family and had grown from a boy to a man. He was strong and he was confident in his worth. He didn’t let people push him around or take advantage of him. He liked his job working for the Moran family and he had no plans to leave. The work was grueling but rewarding and he was paid a livable wage and offered a small cabin to stay in on the grounds free of charge, things most people could only dream about having in his class.

He was well taken and loved it here and didn’t want it to change. He cared about Daniel Moran, the man who had given him a chance when he was just a lost little seventeen year old. That’s why now that Daniel was getting sicker every day with an affliction of the liver, Ed’s heart broke for him but not just for him but for his own future. Without the kindness of Daniel, what would become of Ed?

Everyday, Ed helped Daniel bathe and get dressed before he went about his other duties in the house and in the yard. One evening, Daniel had told Ed that he need not worry about his future because his niece was a kind woman who was going to inherit the estate and would let him stay on, he was sure of it.

Ed hoped that was true and when the morning came for Daniel’s niece to arrive, he was more than a little nervous.

@giftedclairvoyance

413 notes · View notes

sallowtheories · 4 months ago

Text

I just realized something, and I find it strangely interesting.

Hogwarts Legacy takes place in 1890 (we know that due to the date George shows Fig in the intro).

This is during the later part of the Victorian area. King's Cross has been build, and the first photo published in a Muggle newspaper back in 1848, but in 1890, it still fully hadn't caught on in the in neither the Muggle or Wizarding world, with both still finding their footing with them, using them mainly for front covers, with illustrations still being the main way to depict something for the readers.

Newspapers has always been important, for Muggles and Wizards alike, being the main news outlets for many. But for many people in 1890, they would like at the newspaper in their hands, fearing that they would have to read the same headline, that had scared them just a few years before.

Imagine the scene. It's the early morning of the 1st of September 1888, and 13 year old MC - still unaware of their magical abilities - is home, getting for school. MC, sitting with what family they have, reads the newspaper of the Daily News, their eyes landing on a headline that makes their blood run cold;

"BRUTAL MURDER IN WHITECHAPEL

A murder of the most brutal kind was committed in the neighbourhood of Whitechapel in the early hours of yesterday morning, but by whom and with what motive is at present a complete mystery."

At Hogwarts the same day, Scottish Sebastian - who was just about to start his third year at Hogwarts with his sister Anne and best friend Ominis - would hear the news during dinner, the Muggleborn and Halfblood students from the London area talking loudly about it. A murder of a Muggle woman. Sadly, that was nothing new, but the brutality of the murder even took full blood students by surprise, one even asking if; "Muggles truly were so cold blooded?"

On the morning of September the 9th, Sebastian walked into the Great Hall, just as a sixth year of a full blood status was asking a second year Muggleborn, how he get a hold of a Muggle newspaper through owls.

Before Sebastian could wonder what that was about, he found the answer at the Slytherin long table, where a Muggle newspaper was being passed around, allowing Sebastian to read it just as it got to Anne.

In London, MC, would overheard their mother and the woman that came around for tea talk about it. They were scared to go out - not that they ever went out at night, they quickly made clear - but they were scared. Even though they, well to do middle class women, did not live in Whitechapel, nor were prostituts. But notheless, they were scared. Man, woman and children. Everybody was on the lookout, fearfull of Leather Apron out in the dark of London's street at night.

In the evening of September the 30th, once again found themself in the drawing room with their family, when they were shocked with another headline.

At Hogwarts the next day, owls came flying with the evening edition of London Daily Post, having been flying all the way from London to Scotland in the night. Apparently, a witch from Diagon Alley had found a way to earn a lot of many, buying in several Muggle papers, before selling them at a higher price to Wizards and Witches that wished to read them.

That morning, the Daily Prophet started running the story as well, leaving many students moaning and groaning about having spend more money on Muggle papers.

The Ministry of Magic has officially gotten involved in the investigation, fearing that this Jack the Ripper could be a dark wizard, killing Muggle women on the streets of London. But just like Scotland Yard, they had nothing to go on. No magic had been used, and no one had seen him up close.

Fear had started spreading to Hogwarts. It happened from time to time, that Sebastian and Ominis was too scared to let Anne go to Hogsmeade alone, even though it was highly unlikely to find Jack the Ripper anywhere in the area. But the fear was there, and Sebastian didn't want anything to happen to his sister...

October passed by with nothing happening. Some students started cancelling their subscribtions to the Muggle newspapers, leaving the witch in Diagon Alley with much less money in her pockets.

When November finally came, it was as if Hogwarts has forgotten all about the killer in London. Even the students who's families still resided there.

But then it came by owl in the morning of November the 10th, to those students who still paid the Diagon Alley witch, and Sebastian, like so many others, leaned in to get a reading of the headline.

When MC read the headline, they decided not to read further along the lines. They had regretted it last time, and decided that this time, they wouldn't put themself through the suffering of reading the details of such a brutal act of violence.

But after that murder in November, the Ripper seemed to have disappeared. The following murder in December was to different, leading Scotland Yard to believe it was committed by a different person.

Though Jack the Ripper had seemed to have disappeared, the fear of him never did. MC would for long time find themself walking down the streets of London, wondering if any of the men around her, could be the brutal killer.

As 88 turned to 89, the fear still lingered in many, quick to connect any murder in London to Jack the Ripper. People coming out of nowhere, saying that they knew who he was, one after another, all with different names and stories.

So in the summer of 1890, when MC got their letter from Hogwarts, they felt relived in some way. Though they saw London as their home, and felt strangely safe their during the day time, the nights were horrifying. But surelly, a magical school in Scotland would be much safer, right?

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow #harry potter sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy theory #harry potter hogwarts game #sebastian sallow theories #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

41 notes · View notes

ltwilliammowett · 3 months ago

Text

A Francis Frith & Co photograph of the Skegness Lifeboat 'Ann, John and Mary' and her crew, c.1896.

The Ann, John and Mary was a 37ft lifeboat (appearance and size suggests she was one of 500 plus Peake class lifeboats used around the coast of Great Britain in the second half of the 19th century and early 20th century.) was acquired by Skegness in 1888 funded from the legacy of Mrs Ann Ball of London. Four years later she would be housed in a new boathouse, which would remain in service until 1990. The only recorded call out was in 1895 when the brigatine Camilla carrying a cargo of ice from Brevig bound for Boston ran aground on Dogs Head Sands, she managed to make port with the assistance of the Ann, John & Mary.

#naval history #naval art #lifeboat #19th century #20th century #age of steam

51 notes · View notes

princetonarchives · 7 months ago

Text

Menu Monday: Under this menu, found in a scrapbook made by Charles F. W. McClure, Princeton Class of 1888, McClure wrote, "Dinner in Washington D.C. after which the men whose names appear on the back of this card went to the White House & were introduced to Pres. Cleveland by Congressman Breckinridge of Kentucky."

"Congressman Breckinridge" was Clifton R. Breckinridge, the son of Confederate General John C. Breckinridge.

Scrapbook Collection (AC026), Box 126

The entire Menu Monday series

#1880s #Grover Cleveland #menu #MenuMonday #Washington D.C.#Class of 1888 #Washington #White House

7 notes · View notes

aletterinthenameofsanity · 5 months ago

Text

Art References for Chapter Two of underneath the sunrise (show where your love lies)

(somehow this one got SO LONG. my bad. in my defense, have some paintings and a few artifacts from my Archaeology of Death class)

Portrait of Madame X, John Singer Sargent, 1884

"There, standing in front of him, as shocking as the unveiling of the Portrait of Madame X on an unsuspecting Paris, are Edwin Payne and Charles Rowland."

On the Terrace at Sèvres, Marie Bracquemond, 1880

"For his final seminar paper, Monty wrote about Marie Bracquemond. About her paintings and the light that entered through all corners of the space. About the way that she, among all her peers, captured the feelings of her subjects, lonely and lovely in the bright outdoor light.

Monty remembers something she said about Impressionism, about how it produced “not only a new, but a very useful way of looking at things. It is as though all at once a window opens and the sun and air enter your house in torrents."

And god, he shouldn’t have let it happen, but that is Charles and Edwin for him. The sun and the air. The relief in the middle of winter."

Grave Goods of Queen Puabi (A Few Selected from Tomb PG 300)

"Monty should be able to keep his resolve. He should be able to be stubborn. He should be able to hold firm, to last, to endure like grave goods in Queen Puabi’s tomb."

The Last Supper, Tintoretto, 1592-1594

"There is some source of light in the background, behind their heads, but it’s dark out the windows so the light haloes dark hair like Tintoretto’s wet dream.

And maybe Monty’s at the Last Supper. Maybe there are only two apostles at the table framed in holy light. Maybe he’s Judas, about to doom a lover with a kiss."

Sunflowers, Van Gogh, 1888

“God, it has never been about me not wanting you. I’ve always wanted you two. Since that first game, since I saw the two of you together, all Van-Gogh-sunflowers-bright.”

Autumn Lane, Thomas Kinkade

"Monty isn’t Cinderella. He isn’t a Thomas Kinkade subject, pastoral, pastel, and perfect. He has no ball to go to and no princes to come and save him. He has nothing to do but sluggishly pull sweatpants and an old t-shirt on over clammy, goosebump-ridden skin and slip under the Persistence of Memory blanket Niko got him for Christmas last year."

Time Transfixed, René Magritte, 1938

"Monty isn’t Cinderella. He isn’t a Thomas Kinkade subject, pastoral, pastel, and perfect. He has no ball to go to and no princes to come and save him. He has nothing to do but sluggishly pull sweatpants and an old t-shirt on over clammy, goosebump-ridden skin and slip under the Time Transfixed blanket Niko got him for Christmas last year."

The Swing, Fragonard, 1767-8

"And Monty nods. "I think," he says, "I can start to believe that."

Emphasis on start, of course, but it's enough to make Edwin and Charles both smile at him, Charles raising Monty's knuckles to kiss them giddily like he's the boy in a Fragonard painting, excited by the glimpse of a lady's ankle."

Starry Night over the Rhône, Van Gogh, 1888

"All of these things do. It's quiet. The world is still. But it doesn't feel as empty as normal. Some measure of warmth and light has followed Charles Rowland and Edwin Payne from their apartment and into Monty’s, soft and bright and welcoming as the Van Gogh's stars above the Rhône."

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @mellxncollie @tumblerislovetumblerislife @lemurafraidofthunder

@likemmmcookies @wr0temyway0ut @thelakeswillbreakourfall

@fenristheulv

#didn't know they were dating au #ghostcrow #art references #fanfic #my fics #aletterinthenameofsanity #dead boy detectives #ao3 #edwin payne #charles rowland #monty finch #monty the crow #cricketcrow #montwin #payneland

39 notes · View notes

uwmspeccoll · 3 months ago

Text

Milestone Monday

On this day, November 11 in 1887, four convicted anarchists, German-American businessman George Engel (b. 1836), German-American printer Adolph Fischer (b. 1858), and American journalists and activists Albert Parsons (b. 1848) and August Spies (b. 1855), were executed as a result of the Haymarket Affair, the aftermath of a bombing that took place at a labor demonstration on May 4, 1886, at Haymarket Square in Chicago. A fifth conspirator, Louis Lingg (b. 1864) committed suicide in his cell the day before his execution.

The bombing had left one person dead and several workers injured, and ensuing retaliatory gunfire by the police caused the deaths of seven police officers and at least four civilians, with dozens of others wounded. The incident was the climax of the social unrest among the working class in America known as the Great Upheaval.

Among supporters of the labor movement, the trial was widely believed to have been unfair, and even a serious miscarriage of justice. The progressive governor of Illinois John Peter Altgeld noted that the state "never discovered who it was that threw the bomb which killed the policeman, and the evidence does not show any connection whatsoever between the defendants and the man who threw it." Albert Parsons and Adolph Fischer were not even present during the bombing. They along with Parson's wife and fellow activist Lucy Parsons (c. 1851–1942) and their two children were at Zepf's Hall nearby and heard the blast. Lucy urged Parsons to flee the city, which he did, eventually laying low in Waukesha, Wisconsin where he worked as a laborer and stayed with the family of Daniel Hoan, the future Socialist mayor of Milwaukee. There he remained until June 21, but afterward turned himself in to stand in solidarity with his comrades who had been arrested.

Lingg, Spies, Fischer, Engel, and Parsons were buried at the German Waldheim Cemetery by what is now the Haymarket Martyrs' Monument. In 1889, a commemorative nine-foot bronze statue of a Chicago policeman by sculptor Johannes Gelert was erected in the middle of Haymarket Square.

The images shown here are from:

The Rise and Fall of Anarchy in America by George N. McLean, published in Chicago & Philadelphia by R. G. Badoux & Co. in 1888.

Anarchy and Anarchists by Michael J. Schaack, published in Chicago by F. J. Schulte & Company in 1889.

Twenty-fifth Anniversary, Eleventh of November, Memorial Edition: Souvenir Edition of the Famous Speeches of Our Martyrs published in Chicago by Lucy Parsons in 1912.

View more Milestone Monday posts.

#Milestone Monday #milestones #Haymarket Affair #Haymarket Massacre #executions #George Engel #Adolph Fischer #August Spies #Louis Lingg #Albert Parsons #Lucy Parsons #anarchism #anarchists #Haymarket Square

26 notes · View notes

useless-catalanfacts · 4 months ago

Note

I'm going to university now (in Germany) and the uni i'm at offers catalan as a side course. Tomorrow i'll finally be at an event where they introduce the subject among others. I'M SO EXCITED!!!!! ^^ Finally! >< Sadly, there won't be a class for catalan literature (omg actually - if you have recommendations of important works from the recent centuries, i'd love to hear, but i'm just rambling, no pressure xD). There will be linguistics and speech praxis. I can't wait! :D

That's great!! I hope you enjoy it very much ☺️

Some of the modern classics (from the late 19th century to the present):

L'Atlàntida (Atlantis, 1877) by Jacint Verdaguer. Epic poem that re-interprets history and legends. Jacint Verdaguer is the most representative poet of the Renaixença/Romanticism movement in Catalan literature.

Other poems by Jacint Verdaguer (1845-1902) and Joan Maragall (1860-1911) are the most important poetry of the Renaixença.

The theatre plays Terra Baixa (usually published in English with the title Martha of the Lowlands, 1896) by Àngel Guimerà. Also Mar i cel ("Sea And Sky", 1888) by him.

La febre d'or ("The gold fever", 1892) by Narcís Oller, the most representative of the realist movement.

The monologue La infanticida ("The Child Murderer", 1898) by Víctor Català (pseudonym of Caterina Albert). And her novel Solitud ("Loneliness", 1905), which is considered the most representative book of the modernist and naturalism movement in Catalan literature.

The satirical theatre plays by Santiago Rusiñol like L'auca del senyor Esteve (1917) —personally I really like his play El bon policia ("The Good Policeman", 1905).

The theatre play El cafè de la Marina ("The Marina Café, 1933) by Josep Maria de Segarra.

Poetry by Pere Quart (1899-1986)

La Plaça del Diamant (it has been translated to English with the titles In Diamond Square and The Time of the Doves, 1962) by Mercè Rodoreda. Her novels Mirall trencat ("Broken Mirror", 1974), La mort i la primavera (Death in Spring, 1986) and Aloma (1938) are also iconic.

The short stories books by Pere Calders, most famously Cròniques de la veritat oculta ("Chronicles of the Hidden Truth", 1955).

The short stories book El cafè de la Granota (1985) by Jesús Montcada,

Poetry: Josep Carner (1884-1970), J.V. Foix (1893-1987).

The novel Bearn, o la sala de les nines ("Bearn, Or The Doll Room", 1961) by Llorenç Villalonga.

Poetry: Vicent Andrés Estellés (1924-1993), Salvador Espriu (1913-1985), Maria Mercè Marçal (1952-1998), Miquel Martí i Pol (1929-2003).

The essays by Joan Fuster, most importantly Nosaltres, els valencians ("We, the Valencians", 1962).

Mecanoscrit del Segon Origen (Typescript of the Second Origin, 1974) and Totes les bèsties de càrrega ("All The Load Beasts"?, 1967) by Manuel de Pedrolo, also personally by him I really liked the sci-fi short stories collection Trajecte Final ("Final Journey", 1975), and I will add my dad would be upset if I didn't mention his theatre play Homes i no ("Men and no", 1957).

Incerta glòria (Uncertain Glory, 1971) by Joan Sales.

Les veus del Pamano (Voices of the Pamano, 2004) and Jo confesso (I Confess, 2011) by Jaume Cabré.

I know some of them, at least Jaume Cabré's novels, Àngel Guimerà's plays, Uncertain Glory, and some Mercè Rodoreda novels have been published in German and/or English. In fact, Voices of the Pamano was a huge success in Germany.

I hope you enjoy the class very much!

#ask #literatura #arts #coses de la terra #literature #world literature #català #catalan

45 notes · View notes

camisoledadparis · 1 month ago

Text

HIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 1

I hope you are enjoying This Day in Gay History. It was started out as a reposting of White Crane's daily newsletters in early 2011 has gained a life of its own and grown out in many directions, in particular, gaining a international identity. The postings now come from many sources, some of them credited in the masthead, but also from tips and suggestions from members. As we move into a new year, you will find you have seen many of the postings before, but always check them out, because there will always be something new, especially as so many public figures are now coming out of the closet. Your Admin

1533 – Italy: Michelangelo writes a love letter to Tommaso de Cavalieri, devoting "the present and the time to come that remain to me."

Rare snapshot of Charles Kains Jackson

1857 – Charles Kains Jackson (d.1933) was an English poet closely associated with the Uranian school.

Beginning in 1888, in addition to a career as a lawyer, he served as editor for the periodical the Artist and Journal of Home Culture, which became something of an official periodical for the movement. In it, he praised such artists as Henry Scott Tuke (to whom he dedicated a sonnet) and Henry Oliver Walker. He also befriended such similar-minded contemporaries as Frederick William Rolfe, Lord Alfred Douglas and John Addington Symonds.The homosexual and pederastic aspects of the Artist declined after the replacement of Kains Jackson as an editor in 1894. The final issue edited by Kains Jackson included his essay, 'The New Chivalry', an argument for the moral and societal benefits of pederasty and erotic male friendship on the grounds of both Platonism and Social Darwinism. According to Kains Jackson, the New Chivalry would promote 'the youthful masculine ideal' over the Old Chivalry's emphasis on the feminine. Jackson's volumes of poetry include Finibus Cantat Amor (1922) and Lysis (1924).

Kains Jackson was a member of the Order of Chaeronea, a secret society for homosexuals founded in 1897 by George Ives, which was named after the location of the battle where the Sacred Band of Thebes was finally annihilated in 338 BC. Other members included Samuel Ellworth Cottam, Montague Summers, and John Gambril Nicholson.

1879 – E.M. Forster (d.1970) was an English novelist, short story writer, essayist and librettist. He is known best for his ironic and well-plotted novels examining class difference and hypocrisy in early 20th-century British society.

Forster was born into an Anglo-Irish and Welsh middle-class family in London. England. He attended the famous public school Tonbridge School in Kent as a day boy. The theatre at the school is named after him, and later studied at King's College, Cambridge, between 1897 and 1901.

After leaving university he travelled in continental Europe with his mother. He visited Egypt, Germany and India with the classicist Goldsworthy Lowes Dickinson in 1914. By that time, Forster had written all but one of his novels. In the First World War, as a conscientious objector, he volunteered for the International Red Cross, travelling to Alexandria, Egypt.

Why didn't EM Forster write much of anything in the second half of his life? According to a new biographer, Wendy Moffat, who has had access to Forster's private papers, what knocked him off track was losing his virginity in his late 30s.

He slept with a wounded soldier in Egypt, in 1917 - "losing R [respectability]" he called it in his private diary. After that, he set about making up for lost time. "I should have been a more famous writer if I had written or rather published more," he later explained, "but sex prevented the latter."

Back in England Forster divided his time between his mother in the Home Counties and gay friends and bisexual boys in his London flat. Homosexuality in Britain was aggressively persecuted then and Forster wisely centred his affairs on officers from Hammersmith police station.

One of them, Bob Buckingham, became the love of Forster's life. Bob was bisexual and soon married, however, he never abandoned Forster. As for writing novels that stopped with the development of his homosexual life.

Forster developed a long-term loving relationship with Bob Buckingham, and his wife, and included the couple in his circle, which also included the writer and arts editor of The Listener, J.R. Ackerley, the psychologist W.J.H. Sprott, and, for a time, the composer Benjamin Britten. Other writers with whom Forster associated included the poet Siegfried Sassoon and the Belfast-based novelist Forrest Reid.

In the 1930s and 1940s Forster became a successful broadcaster on BBC Radio. He was a humanist, homosexual, and lifelong bachelor.

Forster had five novels published in his lifetime. Although Maurice appeared shortly after his death, it had been written nearly sixty years earlier. A seventh novel, Arctic Summer, was never finished. The earlier novels are Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905), The Longest Journey (1907), A Room with a View (1908), and Howards End (1910).

Forster achieved his greatest success with A Passage to India (1924). The novel takes as its subject the relationship between East and West, seen through the lens of India in the later days of the British Raj. Forster connects personal relationships with the politics of colonialism through the story of the Englishwoman Adela Quested, the Indian Dr. Aziz, and the question of what did or did not happen between them in the Marabar Caves.

Maurice (1971) - his one novel to deal head-on with homosexuality - was written some years previously, though it was published only after his death. His posthumously-published novel tells of the coming of age of an explicitly Gay male character.

Maurice is a homosexual love story which also returns to matters familiar from Forster's first three novels, such as the suburbs of London in the English home counties, the experience of attending Cambridge, and the wild landscape of Wiltshire. The novel was controversial, given that Forster's sexuality had not been previously known or widely acknowledged. Today's critics continue to argue over the extent to which Forster's sexuality, even his personal activities, influenced his writing.

Forster's two best-known works, A Passage to India and Howards End, explore the irreconcilability of class differences. A Room with a View also shows how questions of propriety and class can make connection difficult. The novel is his most widely read and accessible work, remaining popular long after its original publication. His posthumous novel Maurice explores the possibility of class reconciliation as one facet of a homosexual relationship.

Sexuality is another key theme in Forster's works, and it has been argued that a general shift from heterosexual love to homosexual love can be detected over the course of his writing career. The foreword to Maurice describes his struggle with his own homosexuality, while similar issues are explored in several volumes of homosexually-charged short stories. Forster's explicitly homosexual writings, the novel Maurice and the short-story collection The Life to Come, were published shortly after his death.

Forster died of a stroke in Coventry on 7 June 1970 at the age of 91. at the home of his policeman friend and his wife, the Buckinghams.

1895 – Although never elected to any office, J. Edgar Hoover (d.1972) wielded tremendous political power in the United States government for almost five decades, and through eight presidencies, as head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Under his leadership, the Bureau developed from a weak and ineffectual collection of political appointees into one of the most efficient police agencies in the world.

It also developed into an undercover secret police that frequently used illegal means to gather damaging information, not only on criminals and political dissidents, but also on political leaders as well. Although Hoover was always in the front lines of government attempts to harass homosexual liberation movements, rumors that he himself was gay followed him throughout his career.

Hoover went to work for the Justice Department in 1917 as a clerk, but moved up quickly by virtue of his efficiency and his vigorous action against Communists and radicals during the late 1910s and 1920s. He supervised the deportation of foreign-born radicals in the great strike wave of 1919.

In 1924, he was appointed head of the Bureau of Investigation of the Justice Department (renamed Federal Bureau of Investigation in 1935). Hoover immediately began to tighten up the slack Bureau. New agents were hired and promoted based on merit and strict performance reviews. He used his library experience to re-organize records and files, and he began amassing his famous "secret files," confidential information, often illegally obtained, which he kept to use against anyone who might threaten his power or tenure.

Hoover soon became both famous and feared for his zealous campaigns against such criminal and "subversive" groups as the Communist Party and the Ku Klux Klan. During the prohibition era, his "G-men" hunted down and caught many prominent gangsters, such as Al Capone and John Dillinger.

During the 1950s, he participated fully in the McCarthy witch hunts, zealously seeking out Communists and fellow-travelers.

Along with pursuing Communist sympathizers, Hoover also led a campaign of harassment directed at the new "homophile" groups such as the Mattachine Society, which sprang up to protest mistreatment of gay men and lesbians. F.B.I. agents took pictures and license plate numbers at demonstrations and infiltrated meetings and conferences of the fledgling homophile groups.

Many believe that Hoover took this anti-gay stance to cover his own homosexuality. Although he constantly (and violently) denied it, whispers about his sexuality followed Hoover throughout his career. For example, a 1943 internal F.B.I. memo reported claims that the director was homosexual.

Hoover's lifestyle fit many gay stereotypes: he was a sharp, dandified dresser, known for his white linen suits and silk handkerchiefs, who collected antiques and lived with his mother until her death when he was 42. He was never known to have even one date with a woman, yet he had several intimate relationships with men, notably a more than forty-year relationship with the handsome Clyde Tolson, his second-in-command at the F.B.I.

Hoover and Tolson rode to work together, ate lunch and dinner together most days, and took vacations together. Many observers described their relationship as marriage-like. Although some commentators believe that Hoover's rigid morality and strict religious beliefs would not have permitted him to have a physical relationship with a man, the rumors of his homosexuality were accelerated by the appearance, after their deaths, of photographs of Hoover and Tolson in drag, photographs that were allegedly Mafia blackmail pictures.

If Hoover and Tolson were homosexual, as seems more and more likely, their roles as persecutors of other homosexuals casts into bold relief the nightmare-like quality of the McCarthy era's war on homosexuality.

Hoover remained in charge of the F.B.I. until his death from a heart attack on May 2, 1972.

1927 – Maurice Béjart (d.2007) was a French born, Swiss choreographer who ran the Béjart Ballet Lausanne in Switzerland. He was the son of the French philosopher Gaston Berger.

Perhaps the preeminent descendant of Sergei Diaghilev and Serge Lifar, Maurice Béjart was a significant presence in late twentieth-century and early twenty-first century dance as an innovator with a radical vision. Central to his reinvigoration of classical ballet was his creation of palpably homoerotic dances that celebrate male beauty.

After studying with Léo Staats, Lubov Egorova, and Madama Rousanne (Sarkissian) in Paris, he performed with Mona Inglesby's International Ballet and the Royal Swedish Ballet and sealed his reputation as industrious and disciplined before creating dances for his own path-breaking companies.

Symphonie pour un homme seul (1955, with a score by Pierre Schaeffer and Pierre Henry), featuring the first electronic score to accompany ballet, established Béjart as an innovator with a radical vision.

After presenting an electrifying interpretation of The Rite of Spring (set to the classic Igor Stravinsky score) informed by myth, sexual heat, and stage flash in 1959 at the Théâtre Royale de la Monnaie in Brussels, he founded The Ballet of the Twentieth Century, a company that had a major influence on the European Dance Theatre movement.

Nijinsky: Clown of God (1971, set to a score combining music by Peter Ilich Tchaikovsky and Pierre Henry), a dreamlike meditation on Vaslav Nijinsky and his legacy, is only one prominent example of Béjart's personal identification and connection with his choreographic subjects.

Many times that connection, as in Nijinsky: Clown of God, was palpably homoerotic. In addition to reimagining Ballets Russes classics such as The Firebird (to the original Stravinsky score), Pétrouchka (to the Stravinsky score) and The Specter of the Rose (to a score of a piano piece by Carl Maria von Weber, orchestrated by Hector Berlioz) to spectacular effect, he also derived inspiration from such gay icons as Prometheus, Dionysus, Orpheus, and Saint Sebastian.

Collaborating closely with many extraordinarily handsome men (Argentine Jorge Donn and Italian Paolo Bortoluzzi among them), Béjart consistently created dances celebrating male beauty and eroticism, not the least of which was the all-male variant of his Boléro (1960, to the throbbing score by Maurice Ravel).

Audiences and critics were either enthralled or enraged by later offerings such as the celebratory Ballet for Life (1997, set to a score combining classical Mozart with pop-rock Queen), in response to the AIDS-related deaths of his friends Jorge Donn and Freddie Mercury of the rock group Queen; and Bolero for Gianni (1999, set to his all-time-favorite Ravel score), a tribute to the murdered Gianni Versace, who had designed the eye-popping costumes for that 1997 dance.

Although beset by kidney problems and other illnesses in his final years, Béjart continued working until the very end of his life. He died on November 22, 2007.

1944 – Eloy de la Iglesia (d.2006) was a Spanish screenwriter and film director.

De la Iglesia was an outspoken gay socialist filmmaker who is relatively unknown outside Spain despite a prolific and successful career in his native country. He is best remembered for having portrayed urban marginality and the world of drugs and juvenile delinquency in the early 1980s. Many of his films also deal with the theme of homosexuality.

Born in Zarauz, Guipúzcoa into a wealthy Basque family, he grew up in Madrid. He attended courses at the prestigious Parisian Institut des hautes études cinématographiques, but he could not enter Spain’s national Film School because he wasn't yet 21, the minimum age required for admission. Instead, he began to study philosophy and literature at the Complutense University of Madrid, but on his third year he abandoned it to direct children’s theater. By age twenty he had already written and directed many works for television sharpening his narrative skills. He established himself as a writer of children's television programs for Radiotelevisíon Española in Barcelona.

De la Iglesia made his debut as film director when he was only twenty-two years old with Fantasia 3 (Fantasy 3) (1966), adapting three children’s stories: The Maid of the Sea, The three hairs from the devil and The Wizard of Oz. While doing mandatory military service, he wrote the script of his second film, Algo Amargo en la Boca (Something Bitter Tasting) (1968). Algo Amargo en la boca, a sordid melodrama, and de la Iglesia’s next film, Cuadrilatero (Boxing Ring) (1969), a boxing story, faced problems with the Francoist censors and failed at the box office. His films did not attract widespread notice until his fourth effort, the critically acclaimed thriller El Techo de Cristal (The Glass Ceiling) (1970).

The dismantling of the Francoist censorship allowed Eloy de la Iglesia to increase sexually charged tones in his works. This approach became apparent in his films: Juego de amor prohibido (Games of Forbbiden Love) (1975) and La otra alcoba (The other bedroom) (1976). In the late 1970s Eloy de la Iglesia, associated with journalist and screen writer Gonzalo Goicoechea, tackled former taboo subjects in Spanish Cinema. Los placeres ocultos (Hidden Pleasures ) (1977) focused on homosexuality. El diputado (Confessions of a Congressman) (1979), follows the story of a politician who is blackmailed due to his secret homosexuality and El sacerdote (The Priest ), also released in 1979, deals with a conservative catholic priest whose sexual obsessions leads him to self-mutilation.

Like many of the young protagonists of his films, Eloy de la iglesia became addicted to drugs such as heroin and he stopped making films for fifteen years. Claiming that his addiction to cinema was stronger than his drug problems, de la Iglesia eventually kicked his habit and resumed his career making Los novios bulgaros (The Bulgarian Lovers) (2003), a film based on the novel of the same title written by Eduardo Mendicutti.

Stricken with kidney cancer, he died on March 24, 2006, age sixty two, after surgery to remove a malignant tumor.

1959 – Fidel Castro seized power in Cuba after leading a revolution that drove out dictator Fulgencio Batista. Castro then established a Communist dictatorship. Although homosexuality was illegal under the Batista government the laws were largely ignored in fun loving Cuba. Since Castro, tens of thousands of gays have been rounded up and imprisoned.

1967 – The Los Angeles Police Department raid the New Year’s Eve parties at two gay bars, the Black Cat Tavern and New Faces. Several patrons were injured and a bartender was hospitalized with a fractured skull. Several hundred people spontaneously demonstrate on Sunset Boulevard and picket outside the Black Cat. The raids prompted a series of protests that began on 5 January 1967, organized by P.R.I.D.E. (Personal Rights in Defense and Education). It’s the first use of the term "Pride" that came to be associated with LGBT rights and fuels the formation of gay rights groups in California, well before the Stonewall Riot.

The popular notion that the Stonewall Riots marked the very first time that LGBT folks "fought back instead of passively enduring humiliating treatment,” is false. Other critical moments in LGBT History that pre-date Stonewall include:

New Year's Ball Raid in San Francisco (1965)

Gene Compton’s Cafeteria Riot (1966)

Cooper Do-Nuts Riot (1959)

1968 – Joey Stefano (d.1994) was an American pornographic actor who appeared in gay adult films. Born Nicholas Anthony Iacona, Jr., Stefano grew up in the Philadelphia area (Chester, Pennsylvania). His father died when he was 15. After several years of prostitution and hard-core drug use in New York City, Stefano moved to Los Angeles and quickly became a star in gay pornography. In addition to his good looks, his persona as a "hungry bottom" (sexually submissive but verbally demanding) contributed to his popularity.

His image and success caught the attention of Madonna, who used him as a model in her 1992 book Sex.

During his lifetime, he was the subject of rumors (some of them spread by himself) regarding his relationships with prominent entertainment industry figures who were known to be gay. At a May 1990 dinner and interview with Jess Cagle (Entertainment Weekly) and Rick X (Manhattan Cable TV's The Closet Case Show), Stefano discussed an alleged series of "dates" with David Geffen, who at one point implored Stefano to quit using drugs. After the videotaped interview appeared on Rick X's show, OutWeek Magazine "outed" Geffen, who went on to announce his homosexuality at an AIDS fundraiser.

He was HIV positive. According to a subsequent biography Stefano died of speedball overdose (cocaine, morphine, heroin, and ketamine) at age 26 in the shower of a motel on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood, California. His body was taken back to Pennsylvania where he was buried next to his father.

Stefano's life is chronicled in the book, Wonder Bread and Ecstasy: The Life and Death of Joey Stefano by Charles Isherwood. His life is also the subject of a one-man-play, Homme Fatale: The Fast Life and Slow Death of Joey Stefano, by Australian playwright Barry Lowe.

1976 – (Daniel L.) Dan Kloeffler is an American television journalist. Since 2010, he is an anchor of ABC News Now, a cable-news channel of the ABC broadcasting network.

He worked at WSTM-TV - an NBC-affiliated television station in Syracuse, New York - prior to joining MSNBC, a cable-news channel. While at MSNBC, he anchored overnight MSNBC Now news updates as well as MSNBC's First Look and broadcast network NBC's Early Today, both early-morning news programs; Kloeffler left MSNBC in 2009. In 2010, he became a freelance anchor and correspondent for ABC News, where he anchors on its ABC News Now channel.In response to the news that actor Zachary Quinto had come out as gay, Kloeffler publicly came out on the air in October 2011.

In a statement on the ABC News website, he wrote that a series of suicides by gay youth also led him to hope his being publicly out would help encourage young gay people struggling to accept themselves.

2008 – Queen Elizabeth II makes actor Ian Mckellen a Companion of Honor, one of only 65.

21 notes · View notes

officiallordvetinari · 7 months ago

Text

Below are 10 featured Wikipedia articles. Links and descriptions are below the cut.

On February 17, 1974, U.S. Army Private First Class Robert Kenneth Preston (1953–2009) took off in a stolen Bell UH-1B Iroquois "Huey" helicopter from Tipton Field, Maryland, and landed it on the South Lawn of the White House in a significant breach of security. Preston had enlisted in the Army to become a helicopter pilot. However, he did not graduate from the helicopter training course and lost his opportunity to attain the rank of warrant officer pilot. His enlistment bound him to serve four years in the Army, and he was sent to Fort Meade as a helicopter mechanic. Preston believed this situation was unfair and later said he stole the helicopter to show his skill as a pilot.

J. R. R. Tolkien, a fantasy author and professional philologist, drew on the Old English poem Beowulf for multiple aspects of his Middle-earth legendarium, alongside other influences. He used elements such as names, monsters, and the structure of society in a heroic age. He emulated its style, creating an impression of depth and adopting an elegiac tone. Tolkien admired the way that Beowulf, written by a Christian looking back at a pagan past, just as he was, embodied a "large symbolism" without ever becoming allegorical. He worked to echo the symbolism of life's road and individual heroism in The Lord of the Rings.

The construction of the first World Trade Center complex in New York City was conceived as an urban renewal project to help revitalize Lower Manhattan spearheaded by David Rockefeller. The project was developed by the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey. The idea for the World Trade Center arose after World War II as a way to supplement existing avenues of international commerce in the United States.

The Coterel gang (also Cotterill, fl. c. 1328 – 1333) was a 14th-century armed group that flourished in the North Midlands of England. It was led by James Coterel—after whom the gang is named—supported by his brothers Nicholas and John. It was one of several such groups that roamed across the English countryside in the late 1320s and early 1330s, a period of political upheaval with an associated increase in lawlessness in the provinces. Coterel and his immediate supporters were members of the gentry, and according to the tenets of the day were expected to assist the crown in the maintenance of law and order, rather than encourage its collapse.

Eunice Newton Foote (July 17, 1819 – September 30, 1888) was an American scientist, inventor, and women's rights campaigner. She was the first scientist to confirm that certain gases warm when exposed to sunlight, and that therefore rising carbon dioxide (CO2) levels could increase atmospheric temperature and affect climate, a phenomenon now referred to as the Greenhouse effect. Born in Connecticut, Foote was raised in New York at the center of social and political movements of her day, such as the abolition of slavery, anti-alcohol activism, and women's rights. She attended the Troy Female Seminary and the Rensselaer School from age 17–19, gaining a broad education in scientific theory and practice.

Simonie Michael (Inuktitut: ᓴᐃᒨᓂ ᒪᐃᑯᓪ; first name also spelled Simonee, alternative surnames Michel or E7-551; March 2, 1933 – November 15, 2008) was a Canadian politician from the eastern Northwest Territories (now Nunavut) who was the first Inuk elected to a legislature in Canada. Before becoming involved in politics, Michael worked as a carpenter and business owner, and was one of very few translators between Inuktitut and English. He became a prominent member of the Inuit co-operative housing movement and a community activist in Iqaluit, and was appointed to a series of governing bodies, including the precursor to the Iqaluit City Council.

The St. Johns River (Spanish: Río San Juan) is the longest river in the U.S. state of Florida and it is the most significant one for commercial and recreational use. At 310 miles (500 km) long, it flows north and winds through or borders twelve counties. The drop in elevation from headwaters to mouth is less than 30 feet (9 m); like most Florida waterways, the St. Johns has a very slow flow speed of 0.3 mph (0.13 m/s), and is often described as "lazy".

Warlugulong is a 1977 acrylic on canvas painting by Indigenous Australian artist Clifford Possum Tjapaltjarri. Owned for many years by the Commonwealth Bank of Australia, the work was sold by art dealer Hank Ebes on 24 July 2007, setting a record price for a contemporary Indigenous Australian art work bought at auction when it was purchased by the National Gallery of Australia for A$2.4 million. The painting illustrates the story of an ancestral being called Lungkata, together with eight other dreamings associated with localities about which Clifford Possum had traditional knowledge. It exemplifies a distinctive painting style developed by Papunya Tula artists in the 1970s, and blends representation of landscape with ceremonial iconography. Art critic Benjamin Genocchio describes it as "a work of real national significance [and] one of the most important 20th-century Australian paintings".

William Samuel Sadler (June 24, 1875 – April 26, 1969) was an American surgeon, self-trained psychiatrist, and author who helped publish The Urantia Book. The book is said to have resulted from Sadler's relationship with a man through whom he believed celestial beings spoke at night. It drew a following of people who studied its teachings.

Zebras (US: /ˈziːbrəz/, UK: /ˈzɛbrəz, ˈziː-/) (subgenus Hippotigris) are African equines with distinctive black-and-white striped coats. There are three living species: Grévy's zebra (Equus grevyi), the plains zebra (E. quagga), and the mountain zebra (E. zebra). Zebras share the genus Equus with horses and asses, the three groups being the only living members of the family Equidae. Zebra stripes come in different patterns, unique to each individual. Several theories have been proposed for the function of these patterns, with most evidence supporting them as a deterrent for biting flies. Zebras inhabit eastern and southern Africa and can be found in a variety of habitats such as savannahs, grasslands, woodlands, shrublands, and mountainous areas.

#wikipedia polls

48 notes · View notes

scotianostra · 1 year ago

Text

On February 25th 1888 a conference advocated the adoption of leaving certificates in Scottish schools.

Scotland has long enjoyed an international reputation as historically one of the best-educated societies in the world. The foundation for this reputation was laid in the 17th century and was the result of Calvinist emphasis on reading the Bible. Putting men and women in touch with the word of God was seen by the Scottish authorities and clergy as of paramount importance. To achieve this goal schools paid for by the Church of Scotland and local landowners were established in all rural parishes and burghs by an Act of Parliament in 1696. These educational establishments were run by the Church and were open to all boys and girls regardless of social status.

The democratic nature of the Scottish system so impressed the 18th century writer Daniel Defoe that he remarked that while England was a land ‘full of ignorance’, in Scotland the 'poorest people have their children taught and instructed’. The openness of the Scottish system ran all the way from the schoolroom to the university. A talented working class boy the 'lad o'pairts’ through intelligence and hard work and by utilising a generous system of bursaries was able to gain a university education, something largely unthinkable in England in the 18th century.

That’s not to say it was perfect on further inspection I found out that even in 1892 when all elementary and most secondary education became free, and scholarships were more widely available, few working-class children were able to take advantage of the opportunity. Only just under 5% of pupils attended a secondary school in Scotland in 1897. The real priority for children from working-class backgrounds was to find work and begin earning a wage.

For a small nation Scotland was particularly well-endowed with universities, boasting five in the 19th century - a figure which included Aberdeen’s Marischal and King’s Colleges. The universities were considered to be national, public institutions and, therefore, less elitist than Oxford or Cambridge in England. Because of this they were said to be more open to working people and, indeed, over 18% of the student population of Glasgow university in 1860 was from working-class backgrounds, quite a high number considering the low percentages of working class children who were educated.

The existence of a substantial number of working class students has given rise to the view that universities in Scotland were more democratic and based more on merit than the class-ridden universities of England. The wider implication was that Scotland was a less class obsessed society than England.

Again all was not as it seemed, and while we had a working class getting into University, the system was somewhat broken in a way. At Glasgow University in 1889-90, out of 225 students taking the junior Latin class 200 failed. The quality of university education in Scotland was generally poor and inferior to that offered in England. The low quality was mainly due to the fact that there was no university entrance examination and, therefore, children could enter the system as early as fourteen or fifteen, the 1888 act would possibly put this to rights.

As a result, philosophy, which had previously formed the core of the arts degree, was made optional. Students were also forced to compete for bursaries and this acted as an unofficial entrance examination. The setting up in 1901 of the Carnegie Trust Fund, set up by the great philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, provided a further source of assistance and by 1930 70% of university students in Scotland were receiving awards from the fund.

The numbers of students in higher education institutions increased from 4,400 in 1830 to 6,000 in 1900, to 10,000 in 1938. At Glasgow University, working-class students increased as a percentage of the total, from 18.6% in 1860 to 24% in 1910.

The period from 1900 to the outbreak of War in 1939 did not witness the same degree of change in the educational system as had occurred in the 19th century. However, there were important developments in the sphere of primary and secondary education. These changes did little to alter the class bias of education, but collectively they made important contributions to the

creation of an all encompassing modern educational system in Scotland.

Education in Scotland has been the subject of much myth-making as regards the openness of the system and the quality of provision. In the 19th and the first half of the 20th century, the educational system catered mainly for an elite section of Scottish society. Although the door to higher education was more open than in England, workers and their families, women and Catholics in general were excluded. For these groups, education was sparse and the quality poor.

Legislation gradually improved the access of all groups to better education, but it was only after the introduction of comprehensive education in 1965 that attempts were made to provide adequate standards for all children in Scotland.

#scotland #scottish #history #education

59 notes · View notes