#Como Silk City

[realengaporahi]

Lake Como: Where Beauty Flourishes Timelessly

Content credit: By Tauck From sapphire coasts carved by the sea to vineyards sprawling across sun-drenched hills, Italy is perfectly sculpted by nature. Its beauty resonates everywhere, but its magic shines brightest in a 29-mile-long lake in Northern Italy’s Lombardy region. This pocket of romanticism surrounded by towering mountains, stunning gardens, and opulent villas, has enchanted visitors…

[pinesource]

You never quite know what you’re gonna get from Chris Pine’s style. Sometimes it’s the handsomely suited type, in perfectly-cut tuxedos and top-shelf separates. Other times, it’s pure chaos-lord in denim cut-offs and graphic tees; the guy who turns up to talk shows in short silk pyjamas.

Pine was attending a match between Como 1907 and Fiorentina at the Giuseppe Sinigaglia Stadium in Como, alongside Benedict Cumberbatch. Gone were the shoulder-length surf bro hair and the four-inch beard. Gone was the “I love LA” T-shirt and the dressing gown. In their place, just a banger coat and layering good enough to make you weep.

The actor started with a black double-breasted overcoat. Hitting just below the knee with a generous relaxed lapel, Pine wore the coat open and casual. Underneath, a little masterstroke of layering with a loose grey pinstripe layer, which could have been a vest or a blazer — Pine didn’t remove the coat all day for us to see, but considering it was 7° in Como, who could blame him?

Underneath that, a simple white T-shirt, a pair of slim-line black trousers and a pair of black boots. Accessories came in the form of a gold necklace and his favourite freaky, IYKYK watch, a vintage 1950s Baume & Mercier, with a toffee coloured dial. The hair was rugged yet neat, his salt and pepper short-back-and-sides tousled, and his beard trimmed into a goatee.

It’s the perfect fit to attend a football match in a rich Italian city. And while our usual terrace fits consist more of a jersey replete with grease from a comically overpriced food van, we’ll be adding this unbridled banger from Chris Pine to the moodboard nonetheless. It's nice to dream.

[sefaradweb]

Los judíos de Kaifeng, una diáspora olvidada

🇪🇸 La comunidad judía de Kaifeng en China tiene una historia fascinante que comienza con la llegada de los judíos alrededor del siglo II d.C., durante la gran diáspora. Se cree que los judíos llegaron como comerciantes a través de la Ruta de la Seda buscando nuevas oportunidades, y se asentaron en la ciudad de Kaifeng, ubicada en la provincia de Henan. En 1163 se construyó la primera sinagoga en Kaifeng, y la comunidad floreció alcanzando alrededor de 2,000 personas en su apogeo. A lo largo de los siglos, la sinagoga fue reconstruida varias veces, siendo la última en 1688, pero sufrió su destrucción en 1642 durante una rebelión. Un importante evento en la historia de los judíos de Kaifeng fue el descubrimiento de la comunidad por el jesuita Mateo Ricci en el siglo XVII, lo que permitió el establecimiento de un diálogo entre judíos y cristianos. Aunque la comunidad mantuvo su identidad por siglos, las influencias del confucianismo y la adaptación cultural hicieron que se perdieran algunas prácticas religiosas. Hoy, las inscripciones más antiguas datan de 1489 y mencionan a Abraham como su fundador, además de mencionar la celebración de festividades como el Yom Kipur. A lo largo del tiempo, los judíos de Kaifeng, también llamados yiceleye, han sido un ejemplo de integración y adaptación en una sociedad china relativamente tolerante con las religiones, aunque, al mismo tiempo, enfrentaron la pérdida gradual de su identidad.

Los judíos de kaifeng, una diáspora olvidada on JSTOR

🇺🇸 The Jewish community of Kaifeng in China has a fascinating history that begins with the arrival of Jews around the 2nd century CE, during the great diaspora. It is believed that Jews arrived as merchants through the Silk Road, seeking new opportunities, and settled in the city of Kaifeng, located in the Henan province. In 1163, the first synagogue was built in Kaifeng, and the community flourished, reaching around 2,000 people at its peak. Over the centuries, the synagogue was rebuilt several times, with the last reconstruction in 1688, but it was destroyed in 1642 during a rebellion. An important event in the history of the Jews of Kaifeng was the discovery of the community by the Jesuit Matteo Ricci in the 17th century, which allowed the establishment of a dialogue between Jews and Christians. Although the community maintained its identity for centuries, the influences of Confucianism and cultural adaptation led to the loss of some religious practices. Today, the oldest inscriptions date back to 1489 and mention Abraham as their founder, as well as the celebration of holidays like Yom Kippur. Over time, the Jews of Kaifeng, also called yiceleye, have been an example of integration and adaptation in a society that was relatively tolerant of religions, while at the same time, they faced the gradual loss of their identity.

Beja, Flora Botton. “Los Judíos de Kaifeng, Una Diáspora Olvidada.” Estudios de Asia y Africa, vol. 28, no. 3 (92), 1993, pp. 371–86. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40312416. Accessed 9 Nov. 2024.

[ochoislas]

BÚHO DE CIUDAD

En noches frías, cuando lentas brasas arraigan y pululan en los sótanos, que el aire ciudadano cardan de humo; cuando cuartos de luna palidecen y los neones fulgen en la sombra como letal tiniebla en la mosqueta... sobre el ahogado tráfico entonces puedo escuchar al búho, y con su acento me estremezco en mi recatada silla. Pues, semejante a un agorero, vino a aselarse en nuestros ruinosos muros, con sus garras sangrientas envainadas. Un oculto reclamo de los tiempos lo convocó, parece, de sus yermos para cazar aquí en el nuevo erial. Y donde las arañas se mecieron, reflejando mil iris de parejas, esculcan sus capirotados ojos; y donde amantes calzados de seda corrieran con diamantes en el pelo, despliega él sus alas silenciosas, descolgado como fatal azote que calando atraviesa el gran salón y al ratón raudo agarra en la escalera...

*

TOWN OWL

On eves of cold, when slow coal fires, rooted in basements, burn and branch, brushing with smoke the city air; When quartered moons pale in the sky, and neons glow along the dark like deadly nightshade on a briar; Above the muffled traffic then I hear the owl, and at his note I shudder in my private chair. For like an augur he has come to roost among our crumbling walls, his blooded talons sheathed in fur. Some secret lure of time it seems has called him from his country wastes to hunt a newer wasteland here. And where the candelabra swung bright with the dancers’ thousand eyes, now his black, hooded pupils stare, And where the silk-shoed lovers ran with dust of diamonds in their hair, he opens now his silent wing, And, like a stroke of doom, drops down, and swoops across the empty hall, and plucks a quick mouse off the stair...

Laurie Lee

di-versión©ochoislas

[shopsofiacollection]

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Because Italian silk can be used to create a wide range of attractive clothes, from sophisticated evening gowns to fashionable everyday wear, it may be worth the investment for fashion fans. Italian silk collections, whose costs reflect the fabric's quality and rarity, are also well-liked for luxury clothing and custom-tailoring.

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[10siglosdehistoria]

Toghrol Tower in Rey, Iran (11th century)

La Torre Toghrol en Rey, Irán (s. XI)

(English / Español)

The Toghrol Tower is a 20-metre-high tower in the city of Rey in Iran made of bricks and sarooj, a water-resistant mortar. It was erected in 1063, and according to some sources, was intended as the tomb of Tu ğrul Beg, the founder of the Seljuk dynasty.

The Toghrol Tower also has a sundial function. There are 24 vertical angles around the outside of the tower. At the top of each angle, there are four and a half shapes in a circle, representing a quarter of an hour. In addition, there are six rectangles, each showing 10 minutes, and the narrower slots indicate the minutes. It is worth mentioning that the two east and west downs of the tower show 3 o'clock and 9 o'clock, and the north and south doors of the tower also show 6 o'clock and 12 o'clock.  

Another use of the Toghrol tower was to light a fire at the top of the tower, giving it the function of a beacon guiding those coming to Rey from Khorasan along the Silk Road.

*****

La Torre Toghrol es una torre de 20 metros de altura situada en la ciudad de Rey en Irán hecha de ladrillos y sarooj, un mortero resistente al agua. Fue erigido en 1063, y según algunas fuentes, fue concebido como la tumba de Tu ğrul Beg, el fundador de la dinastía selyúcida.

La Torre Toghrol también tiene una función de reloj de sol. Hay 24 ángulos verticales alrededor del exterior de la torre. En la parte superior de cada ángulo, hay cuatro formas y media en un círculo, que representan un cuarto de hora. Además, hay seis rectángulos, cada uno muestra 10 minutos y las ranuras más estrechas indican los minutos. Cabe mencionar que los dos bajantes este y oeste de la torre muestran las 3 y las 9 en punto, y las puertas norte y sur de la torre también muestran las 6 y las 12 en punto.  

Otro uso de la torre Toghrol era encender un fuego en la parte superior de la torre, dándole la función de faro que guía a quienes vienen hacia Rey desde Khorasan por la Ruta de la Seda.

[mercury-a-milano]

Conclusion

I had an enjoyable time in Milan! I thought that it was a good first experience out of the country. There were a few areas that were not the most enjoyable, mainly being the Charles de Gaulle Airport, but I feel like experiences like those heighten the overall enjoyment of the trip. I was honestly surprised to see so many similarities between Italy and the United States. I think this trip helped me learn more about traveling abroad, and like I mentioned before I am glad that this was where I went for my first time out of the country. It was a very enjoyable trip and I’m glad I got to spend it with so many great people!

I also really enjoyed learning about fashion and fashion history, and I think that Milan was the perfect city to encompass all of that. Seeing all of the high end stores in person was a wonderful experience. Being able to sit down and eat authentic Italian food and enjoy the dining experience of Italy was also nice. I also thought it was very interesting how involved in American politics and culture Italian people are. Especially with the current political climate of the United States, I did not expect to see the level of openness that I did.

On the contrary, I do wish we got to look at the darker sides of the fashion industry before we went to Milan. I feel like having that background would have been beneficial to us and that we would have been able to make more connections and arguments instead of just going and seeing what the higher end people are doing. I still enjoyed the experience, I just wish we could have gone into more depth with the industry itself instead of the history. We did that a little bit with the modeling industry and the trip to Why Not Models, but when we went to the silk factory in Como we did not talk about the fast fashion side of the industry. I feel like if we were prepared to analyze that side of it I could have gotten a better understanding of the contrast between the two when seeing them in person.

Besides that, I enjoyed the trip and I enjoyed reflecting on my experiences both in Milan and in class. I hope to visit Italy again and I will keep the lessons that this trip has taught me.

[to-star-lake]

re: untitled [ pt. 1 ]

pairing | jjk x reader genre | ceo!jk, arranged marriage word count | 5.4k pt. 2, pt. 3, end

“Do you really have to leave?” Taehyung whispered against your skin, his lips pouting and caressing your bare shoulder. “It’s not like he’s waiting up for you.”

You scoffed, scooting to the edge of his bed, picking up your t-shirt from the floor and sliding it over your head. “It’s not him, it’s Namjoon and the goddamn board of directors,” you said, standing up and shimmying into your jeans that were hanging off the armchair beside the bed. “Acting like he’s our guardian or something, that guy really pisses me off with all the curfews and rules,” you mumbled, making your way over to the desk and picking up your purse. 

Taehyung sighed and you looked over to see him sitting up against the pillows rubbing his eyes. “I don’t get it, why doesn’t Jungkook do something about that fool sitting up in his office calling the shots, he acts like he doesn’t give a shit about the company.” 

You rolled your eyes, looping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “It’s cus he doesn’t give a shit about the company, I’m the one in every single board meeting and strategy meeting and business development meeting.” 

You picked your coat up from the back of the desk chair and walked over to sit down on the mattress beside Taehyung. He leaned forward, giving you a kiss, taking your left hand in his. When he pulled away you saw him look down at your hand in his, his fingers brushing over the shimmering diamond on a silver band on your finger. 

“It’d be nice to see you in the daytime once in a while, you know,” he said softly, leaning his head against your shoulder. You sighed and tried to muster a smile, lifting his face and giving him a peck on the corner of his mouth. 

“I’ll see you in the office, k?” 

Those are the last words you always say to him before you walk out of his apartment, down the elevator, and out to the garage where your car is parked. And you always thought about him on your drive home. About how if maybe circumstances were different, you might love him, and could actually be with him. You caught your gaze shifting to the diamond on your ring finger, glittering from the lights of the city flashing by as you drove downtown to the steel and glass highrise and the penthouse where you lived. 

“Miss Y/N, you’re cutting it close tonight,” Johnny, the valet teased as you pulled up in front of your building, getting out from the driver’s side of your car, tossing him the keys. 

“I set an alarm this time,” you quipped back, pushing through the glass doors into the marble lobby of your building, noticing the security guards at the front desk exchange nervous glances as you walked into the elevator. It rose above 48 floors and the doors opened with a ding to the penthouse suite, and you heard a shrill screech coming from the end of the hallway. 

“What the fuck, Jungkook?!” the voice shrieked, and the sound was followed by a half naked girl, running towards you into the open elevator doors, holding a silk sheet around her chest, a loud revving sound following closely behind. You ducked out of the elevator, and saw a 2-foot long toy tonka truck was chasing her at full speed. Turning, you saw Jungkook at the end of the hallway, wearing nothing but his briefs, the controller in one hand, the other clutching his stomach in laughter. 

“You’re no fun!” he shouted down the hall. 

“You’re fucking insane!” the girl yelled back as the elevator doors closed on her and the toy truck hit the doors at full speed with a thunk, pieces of its hood shattering across the floor and leaving a dent in the bronze elevator doors. 

You rolled your eyes, walking down the hallway towards the open door to the penthouse you shared with the man child in briefs, who slid down to the floor, still laughing. You walked past him without a word, making your way across the marble foyer, straight to the mahogany liquor cabinet beside the large sofas in the living room. Taking the top off of one of the crystal decanters, you poured yourself a drink and heard Jungkook’s footsteps behind you. He reached out and grabbed the decanter from your hand, taking a swig and plopped down onto the velvet ligne roset sofa. 

“Nice hickeys, what is this guy, 15 years old?” Jungkook scoffed as you took off your coat, revealing the trail of purple and blue marks along your neck and collarbone. Already irritated, you were about to snap when you heard the elevator doors ding and looking out into the hallway, you saw Namjoon step out. 

“I just saw a woman wrapped in a bedsheet fuming and stomping out of the building, I can assume that was your work?” Namjoon walked into the living room, stopping in front of Jungkook, whose body is leaned lazily into the sofa, taking another swig. You laughed audibly at this remark but Namjoon turned, also noticing the hickeys on your skin. 

“And you,” he began, holding up his phone, open to a dark and blurry paparazzi photo of you leaving Taehyung’s building next to a photo of you and Jungkook at an art function last month under the headline ‘Marriage or Merger? Billionaire Couple’s Sham Relationship.’ 

You rolled your eyes at this, taking another sip of your drink. 

“This is on page six,” Namjoon pressed on, pushing the phone closer to you, making you flinch and swat it away. “You need to be more discreet.” 

Jungkook chuckled from the couch, gulping down a few more swigs from the decanter. “And who knows how many paps got photos of that amateur’s work on her neck,” he snickered. 

“You’re the one chasing a naked girl around with a fucking toy truck,” you were becoming more irritated by the second. 

“Both of you shut up,” Namjoon raised his hand to his face, rubbing his temples in frustration. “Alright, you,” he said, pointing at Jungkook. “No more chicks in the penthouse, ok, I can’t keep paying your valets and doormen to keep this quiet. And Y/N,” he turned to you. “No more going to Taehyung’s house, and from now on both of you,” he shook his hand back and forth between you and Jungkook. “Both of you go to a goddamn hotel for your torrid affairs like normal, bored heirs alright? And do me a favor and do not arrive or leave with your flings. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” 

He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down before continuing. “Now we have a board meeting tomorrow morning at 10, you’ll both be there, right.” 

“Obviously,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest, annoyed at the insinuation. 

“I’m not asking,” Namjoon said, turning and walking out of the apartment.

“What’s got his knickers in a twist,” Jungkook said, drinking down the rest of the bottle before tossing it to the opposite end of the couch. 

You rolled your eyes and crossed the foyer to the other end of the penthouse where your bedroom was. You were pulling your t-shirt over your head when you heard Jungkook’s footsteps. 

“You need to stop seeing that asshole,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, drunk and slurring his words. 

“Fuck you,” you scoffed, sliding your jeans off and tossing them where you dropped your t-shirt and walked into your bathroom, turning the water on in the ivory tub. 

“I’m telling you to stop seeing him,” he raised his voice, walking up behind you, grabbing your forearm. You whipped around, twisting your arm from his grasp. 

“I don’t say shit about all the girls you have coming in and out of here, so stay out of my life.” 

He let out a bitter laugh, “I’d stay out of your life except we’re supposed to be fucking married here,” he held up his hand, pushing the silver band on his ring finger at your face. “We’re supposed to run the company together and you’re fucking the CFO.” 

You unhooked your bralette and slid out of your underwear and climbed into the half filled tub. “And you’re fucking, oh wait, I’m sorry, who is it this week? And don’t act like you give a shit about the company.” 

Jungkook put his hands on his hips, exasperated and averting his gaze from your naked body in the water. He took a deep breath and turned to leave. “It doesn’t matter who I’m seeing, they’re nobody. You’re fucking the CFO. If you fuck this up, he’s gonna fuck us over, don’t think for a second that asshole won’t.” He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. 

You felt your anger boiling over and reached for the nearest thing you could get your hands on, a loofah, and threw it against the door. 

“Fuck,” you said under your breath, brushing your hair back and dipping under the hot water. 

You were angry because you knew he was right. And you’d thought about it many times, what could happen if things turn sour between you and Taehyung. But you were so glad to spend time with anyone other than your arranged marriage husband that you didn’t even question it. But despite your anger, you could admit it was possible you were being more reckless than he was. 

It was the end of summer last year and you were in the bedroom of your apartment, packing your bags to begin your first graduate school semester when your parents called, letting you know they were in the city and asked you to have dinner. 

You remembered arriving in the restaurant and when the hostess led you back to a private dining room with gilded wallpaper and dimly lit by a crystal chandelier, you saw that it wasn’t just your parents. You weren’t particularly surprised by this, your parents had been taking you out to functions and dinners with their various business partners your whole life. The Jeons had been friends of the family for a long time and you greeted them cordially before sitting down. 

The conversation was light, which contrasted a stark and obvious tension in the air which you felt immediately that never lifted. Your parents had just begun to tell you about their plans to retire very soon and move to the chateau on Lake Como when the door to the private room burst open and the Jeons’ youngest son stumbled in. 

You’d known Jungkook since you were children, and you weren’t particularly fond of him. You remember him always causing trouble, and was a rowdy, mischievous kid, who followed you around at events and parties, tugging at your hair or smearing food on your clothes when you weren’t looking. You remember his older brother constantly chasing him to sit him down on a couch or chair in time out for misbehaving, and he would jump up and run away into more trouble the minute his brother turned his back. 

It’s been quite some time since the last time you saw him. During his last years in middle school, he’d gotten expelled from the prestigious private academy his parents worked hard to get him into, so they sent him away to boarding school. You hadn’t seen each other since you were 15. 

He’d grown so tall, you thought. His dark hair, which you remembered his mother always kept properly groomed had grown long, strands of it falling over his eyes. You watched him slide languidly into a chair beside his mom, removing his sunglasses and tossing them onto the table. It was 8 PM at night. His father coughed audibly upon seeing his mother’s distressed expression. 

“‘Sup, creators,” were his first and only words that evening. 

Your parents commented amicably on how much he’s grown and asked him seemingly innocuous questions like how was Cambridge, how was his big South America excursion with his friends, and his mother answered for him. You stared at him in awe, at how little he could care to behave in any acceptable way in front of his parents and their business partners. He didn’t lift his face to look at you once. 

A number of agonizingly long and uncomfortable silences passed when your father finally said, “Well, I’m sure the both of you are wondering why we’ve asked you out to dinner tonight.” 

That was the lead-in to both sets of parents informing the two of you that they were planning a merger. And a merging of their two enterprises would be on a scale that the industry hadn’t seen in a long time. But they were getting old, they said, and wanted to retire and do some traveling. Your mother wants to tend to a garden, and Jungkook’s father spoke extensively about the books he wanted to write. 

So they were handing the company over to the two of you. 

And not only that, that the two of you would marry, and that this had been the plan for a very long time. 

You felt your eyes growing wider in shock by the minute but there was something holding you back from blurting out all the things you wanted to say to your parents in that moment, like a heavy rock in the bottom of your stomach weighing you down. You kept glancing over at Jungkook, who sat in the same lazy posture in his chair, pushing his food around mindlessly on his plate with a fork, the same blank expression on his face, while you were panicking. 

You parted ways with Jungkook that evening without so much as a single word addressing each other. His mother asked for your phone number and gave you his in exchange before they left. You expressed your grievances in full to your parents that night. They did not listen. 

The wedding was one month later at your family’s chateau on Lake Como. It was a small, private ceremony, but your mother made sure there were enough photographers and journalists there to cover the event for publicity. The only words you and Jungkook exchanged on that day were your vows, which were carefully crafted by the company’s publicist. 

That night both your families left the two of you alone in the chateau. This was following a lively dinner with close family friends who were invited and flew out to stay in Lake Como for the weekend on private flights. You were not intimately familiar with any of them, and as far as you could tell, neither was Jungkook. 

You studied him carefully that day, nervous, but also resolved that even if the marriage is a sham, you wanted to make sure the two companies’ merger went through properly and that you would do your level best to run the enterprise with him. Despite the arranged marriage, you knew this company was your parents’ legacy, and you would not let it fail in your hands, and certainly not Jungkook’s. 

After everyone left that night, you sat at the boudoir nervously in the silk slip you wore under the custom gown your mother spent weeks with the designers in the Saint Laurent atelier crafting. The doors to the bedroom opened, and you turned to see Jungkook walk in. He had changed out of his tuxedo and into a pair of grey sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, the hood pulled over his head. 

He stood in the center of the room looking down at his shoes for a few moments and you were about to break the silence when he looked up at you and said, “Let’s go for a drive.” 

Those were the first words he spoke to you directly of his choosing. And that was the first time his eyes met yours with any substance. 

You threw on a coat and followed him out of the residence to the white Maserati gran turismo parked on the gravel lot in front of the house. A long and quiet car ride later, he pulled the car to a vantage point at the side of the road. He got out and walked to the overlook, climbing over the stone ledge and taking a seat. You followed suit. 

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments and the stillness of the chilly night air fell upon you. He took a deep breath and turned his head, and your eyes met his, for the first time in earnest. His dark irises shone in the moonlight and they gazed into yours placidly and he said, “What do you want to do?” 

It was a simple question, but both of you were well aware of the gravity of their meaning. What he meant was, ‘What do you want to do about this marriage?’

You looked out onto the lake and thought for a few moments. 

“We will be the picture perfect corporate couple in front of everyone,” you began. You saw him nodding gently in your periphery. You turned to face him, taking a long breath in before saying, “But we will stay out of each other’s personal lives. Let’s not pretend like we actually have any feelings for each other. And I have no illusions about you actually wanting any part of this merger or running the enterprise. But I will not let you waste and wreck this empire our parents worked their whole life to build, so you will stay out of it.” 

You saw his eyes grow wide in incredulity at your words for a brief moment before he turned away and took a deep breath. “Going to be kind of difficult to stay out of it since the general counsel wrote into the terms of the merger that you and I hold equal shares in the merged enterprise and you will be CEO and I will be president of the company.” 

“You’re just a figurehead to represent your father,” you scoffed at his remark, though you were surprised that he actually seems to have read the terms of the merger. “Stay out of the operations. I will run this company.” 

He stood up, smirking. “So that’s it then?” he asked in a mocking tone. 

“That’s it.” 

Both of you were silent on the drive back to the chateau, but you noticed his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel, knuckles white under his skin, and he drove far past the speed limit. Of course he’s like this, you thought, a child throwing a tantrum and can’t control his emotions. 

You got out of the car but he didn’t, instead, rolling down the passenger side window and calling out to you, “I trust you can find your own way home? I’m sure you can use the jet at your will, Miss CEO,” his mocking tone continued. 

“Where are you going?” you asked, an annoyance and frustration building in the pit of your stomach which you were certain would persist every day of your marriage. 

He shrugged, “I hear Portofino’s lovely this time of year. Or maybe I’ll take a flight out to Majorca. I don’t really know, honestly, since I now have all this unexpected free time from not having a run a company or participate in a marriage.” And with that, the tires of the car screeched from the gravel lot and you stood on the steps of the residence, mouth open in awe at this display while the engine roared down the road and disappeared into the night. 

The entire last year of your marriage and partnership was like this. While you attended strategy meetings with your c-suite and reported earnings to the shareholders, Jungkook was galavanting around Europe, Asia, and rumors of his numerous affairs were well documented by the press. He would show up at random to meetings and events, undoubtedly dragged back from some wild binge by Namjoon, who was appointed acting president by the board when Jungkook’s behavior was finally deemed too erratic. 

Initially you were overwhelmed by the amount of work you had to take on in the absence of the business partner you were supposed to have. Part of you considered calling Jungkook, and asking him to return to help you run the business. But your pride wouldn’t allow that. And the longer his erratic behavior drew on, the more your anger grew until it grew to the point of apathy. And it was then that you found a new partner in Taehyung, the company’s newly appointed CFO. He was calm, collected, brilliant, and more than anything, understood you and the business. He was someone you could confide in. 

---

It was 10:55 AM and you had just concluded the last discussion item on the agenda for this month’s board meeting when the glass doors to the conference room flew open and Jungkook sauntered in, plopping down into one of the chairs along the room’s periphery. 

“Ah, Jungkook, good of you to join us,” Namjoon commented, looking around nervously at all the shareholders around the table exchanging concerned glances. 

He took the sunglasses off his face, “What did I miss?” he asked but didn’t mean. 

“Only everything,” you muttered under your breath as you slammed your laptop shut, but somehow Jungkook did manage to hear your remark. 

“Oh that’s alright, I’m sure Miya would be happy to uh, debrief me after this,” he chuckled, looking over at the secretary seated in the opposite corner, fully blushing at his comment.

“Oook, well, this was a productive meeting everyone, thank you for coming in today, we’ll meet again next month!” Namjoon stood, laughing nervously, clasping his hands together and quickly dismissing everyone before they could think too much on what Jungkook just said. 

“That fucking asshat,” you dropped our laptop onto the desk in Taehyung’s office and he looked up at you his hands raised in surprise at your entrance. You slammed the door behind you, brushing your hair back with both hands in frustration, pacing. 

Taehyung leaned back in his chair, twirling his pen in his hand, “I take it he actually did show up to the board meeting?” 

“Barely,” you muttered, still pacing. 

He laughed softly, but sat up quickly, and gestured for you to look at something. You looked over across the open office floor to Seokjin, the company’s in-house counsel’s office where Taehyung was pointing, and saw Jungkook taking a seat while Seokjin brought over a stack of papers, which Jungkook proceeded to flip through and sign. 

“What the fuck is he doing?” you asked, trying not to stare. 

“I don’t know,” Taehyung responded, equally curious, but less concerned than you were. “I have never seen him have a single conversation with Seokjin, what could he possibly be working on?” 

You scoffed, “Maybe he’s finally being served for harassment in the office.” Taehyung chuckled at your quip, but you were only making a joke to suppress and hide your concerns. You watched as Jungkook shook Seokjin’s hand and left his office. You waited, pacing for a few minutes before rushing out of Taehyung’s office, making a beeline to Seokjin. 

“Y/N! Oh, what a surprise, I wasn’t expecting-” Seokjin jumped in his chair, his glasses falling crooked on his face when you blew in through his office doors. You sat down in the chair across from him and crossed your arms. 

“Well, I uh, this is great timing, because I was actually just about to come to your office,” he tripped over his words in nervousness. “I uh, I need you to take a look at this, please,” he pushed a stack of papers over to you and you could tell from the manila binding it was the same ones Jungkook was just signing. 

“What is this?” you asked, flipping through the pages of legalise. 

“Well, uh, Jungkook just brought in three new defense contracts,” Seokjin replied. You froze mid-motion and stared up at him. 

This couldn’t be true. 

“What?”

“Jungkook brought in three new defense contracts,” Seokjin repeated, enunciating his words. 

“I heard you, I mean how?” you said, impatiently flipping through the pages of the contract, eyes wide at the fact that Jungkook has actually somehow brought in new business for the company. 

“I’m not sure, uh, you’d have to speak with Jimin over in business development for the details on how they executed the contracts, I’m sorry, I just write the terms, protect us from liability, um-” he looked at you nervously, knowing full well he wasn’t answering your real question. “But Jungkook asked me to present you with a plan,” 

“A plan?” you scoffed, looking at the numbers in the contract. 

“Yes, uh,” Seokjin took the pile of papers from you and slid you a folder with more papers. 

“Ok,” he took an anxious breath in, “So, Jungkook wants to give you his shares. And actually today’s board meeting is the final meeting with six of the 11 board members. In the last couple of months Jungkook bought their shares, which made up about 45% of the total enterprise shares. He wants to give you that 45% he acquired, along with his 10%, which, added to your own 10% would give you 65%, making you the majority shareholder of the enterprise, you just have to sign here,” he motioned towards the dotted line at the bottom of the page and held out a pen to you. 

You sat frozen for a moment before standing up, shaking your head and pacing. 

“Y/N?” Seokjin asked anxiously. 

“Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me he was buying out our shareholders?” 

“Well, I, I can’t speak for the shareholders themselves, but I was told this was need to know only..”

You were in shock, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “So you’re telling me he went around buying out our shareholders to acquire a majority of the company, just to give it to me.” 

Seokjin nodded nervously. 

“You don’t find this suspicious? He’s bringing in new contracts, he’s buying out shareholders?” 

“Well, there is one stipulation,” Seokjin pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and leaned over the stack of papers, flipping to a specific page. “Jungkook is asking that 5% of annual earnings be dedicated to a new R&D department.” 

“What?” you asked, walking over to look at the page Seokjin was referencing. 

“What does he want a research and development team for?” you were fully perplexed. 

“I’m not sure, maybe he’s trying to work on some things for the defense contracts, I’m not clear on all the details. Again, Jimin could tell you more, or you could ask Jungkook directly..” he stopped, realizing you were glaring at him. “Uh, in any case, the numbers look good, I was going to run them by Taehyung after I got your ok. The R&D will cut into 5% but the new contracts will bring about a 12% growth in revenue so it’s all offset with a good profit.” 

You scoffed, falling into the chair, shaking your head. “Go, get the financials verified,” you said, waving Seokjin off and he sloppily gathered the papers and stumbled out of his office over towards Taehyung’s. 

You stood slowly, and walked in a daze down the hall to your own office, barely registering your secretary trying to tell you something before you turned the knob to the door and walked in and saw Jungkook standing behind your desk, looking out the windows at the city view. He turned when he heard you walk in. 

“Have you talked to Seokjin?”

You took a deep breath in, trying your best to control your tone but failing, “Sure, let’s just get right down to it. What the fuck are you doing buying out our shareholders?” 

He smiled and you couldn’t tell for the life of you if it was genuine or mocking. “I thought you’d be pleased to become the majority stakeholder.” 

You slammed your laptop down on the desk, your anger and impatience growing and you stared in annoyance at him, standing in front of you in a suit and tie, feigning legitimacy. “Why the fuck would I be pleased about that? How the hell did you land those defense contracts?” 

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his perfectly creased slacks and moved closer to you, close enough you could feel his breath on your skin. He lowered his voice and the sound resonated through the air as he spoke. 

“I don’t want to argue and I shouldn’t have to explain myself. You’ve been running the show long enough to know why I’m doing this. Those contracts will bring us 12% revenue growth, and the R&D will give us tax exemptions to put even more in our bottom line. I’m making you the majority stakeholder of the company because you should be the one running the enterprise, not Namjoon and his board of clowns. Let me work on the R&D and the defense contracts, and you can fully own this company. It was never our parents’ intention for us to report to some gaggle of stakeholders dicking around, raking in our money, and if it was, they’re idiots.” 

He walked over to the door of your office, turning the knob and opening the door, and you stood frozen at your desk. 

“Sign the papers, Y/N.” And with that, you heard the doors shut behind you. 

[roviell-travel]

Como is a city at the southern tip of Lake Como in northern Italy. It's known for the Gothic Como Cathedral, a scenic funicular railway and a waterfront promenade. The Museo Didattico della Seta traces the history of Como's silk industry, while the Tempio Voltiano museum is dedicated to Italian physicist Alessandro Volta. Just north are the lakeside gardens of the palatial Villa Olmo, as well as other stately villas.

Located on the Italian-Swiss border, the city of Como in Italy overlooks the southwest end of its lake and is surrounded by green ridge hills,

[serafinesilk]

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[laannie0803]

El príncipe Daemon Targaryen fue el segundo hijo del príncipe Baelon Targaryen y su hermana esposa, la princesa Alyssa Targaryen. Tuvo dos hermanos, Viserys y Aegon. Fue jinete del dragón Caraxes.

Durante el Gran Consejo de 101 d.C. Daemon apoyó el reclamo de su hermano Viserys, lo que le convertiría a él en su heredero. Se decía que Daemon había reunido un pequeño ejército, a la par que se rumoreaba que Lord Corlys Velaryon estaba preparando una flota para defender los derechos de su hijo Laenor.

Cuando su hermano se convirtió en rey se celebró un torneo en Poza de la Doncella, en honor del ascenso de Viserys al trono. Daemon participó en el torneo y fue derrotado en dos ocasiones por un joven caballero llamado Ser Criston Cole. Posteriormente, a pesar de la negativa del rey de otorgarle la nulidad de su matrimonio, se le permitió acceder al Consejo Privado. Se desempeñó como Consejero de la Moneda entre 103 y 104 d.C. y Consejero de Edictos durante seis meses. Su continua apatía durante las sesiones del Consejo y la rivalidad que mantenía con Otto Hightower, quien no soportaba su presencia, provocaron que abandonase su cargo.

Tras su paso por el Consejo Privado, pasó a ser Comandante de la Guardia de la Ciudad de Desembarco del Rey durante dos años. Durante su tiempo en la Guardia de la Ciudad, Daemon inspiró lealtad entre sus hombres, se introdujeron mejoras en las indumentarias y armamento de sus miembros y entregó a cada uno de ellos un manto dorado, hecho por el que se les empezó a conocer como los capas doradas. La delincuencia se redujo drásticamente bajo el mando de Daemon, probablemente debido a su costumbre de infligir severos castigos sobre los malhechores. Daemon desarrolló una oscura reputación en las tabernas y en los burdeles, donde se le veía en sus ratos libres. En uno de estos burdeles conoció a una prostituta llamada Mysaria, quien serviría como su consejera de los Rumores en las calles de Lecho de Pulgas. Mientras Daemon se llamaba a sí mismo "el Príncipe de la Ciudad", se le conoció mejor como "Lord Lecho de Pulgas" entre los residentes de la capital.

No era ningún secreto que Daemon se consideraba el heredero del rey Viserys I, durante el tiempo en que este último no tenía hijos varones. Daemon codiciaba el título de Príncipe de Rocadragón, con el que se autoproclamó, pero el rey no veía con buenos ojos que le sucediera. Ser Otto Hightower era de la misma opinión, por lo que propuso como heredera a Rhaenyra. El rey Viserys sin embargo no abordó la cuestión de la herencia, pues tenía la esperanza de concebir un hijo algún día.

Cuando la reina Aemma Arryn murió en el parto de su hijo Baelon, el hijo que el rey Viserys I Targaryen siempre había querido, Daemon fue visto en un burdel de la Calle de la Seda haciendo bromas de borrachos con sus amigos sobre "el heredero por un día". Esto enfureció al rey Viserys, quien declaró a Rhaenyra su heredera. Tras quedar atrás en la línea de sucesión al trono, Daemon se marcha de la capital iracundo.

En Rocadragón, Daemon deja embarazada a su amante Mysaria y durante un tiempo viven en Lys. No obstante, pierden al niño durante su viaje de regreso a Poniente, cuando el rey ordenó furioso que Daemon volviera con su esposa Rhea al Valle.

En 115 d.C. abandonó los Peldaños de Piedra y no pudo reclamar Piedra de las Runas después de la muerte de Rhea. Quedando viudo, Daemon se casó con Laena Velaryon, hija de su amigo Corlys, con quien tuvo dos hijas gemelas, Rhaena y Baela. Recorrió las Ciudades Libres con ella, pero Laena murió de parto en 120 d.C.. Ese mismo año, Daemon desposó a su sobrina, la princesa Rhaenyra Targaryen, y tuvo tres hijos con ella, Aegon, Viserys y una hija nacida muerta.

Durante la guerra civil tenía más experiencia militar que todos sus enemigos juntos. En Rocadragón, durante la coronación de Rhaenyra, Daemon puso la corona de Jaehaerys I Targaryen en la cabeza de su esposa, posteriormente reclamando para sí el título de Protector del Reino. Fue uno de los principales apoyos y consejeros de su esposa.

Daemon capturó Harrenhal ante la inmediata rendición de Simon Strong. Después de enterarse de la muerte de su hijastro, el príncipe Lucerys Velaryon, a manos de Aemond Targaryen, contrató a dos asesinos, Sangre y Queso, para acabar con la vida de uno de los hijos del rey Aegon II.

Los enemigos que hizo el príncipe Daemon durante sus aventuras se volvieron contra los Negros cuando Ser Otto Hightower, ahora la Mano del Rey Aegon II, fue capaz de reclutar la flota de la Triarquía contra ellos, romper el bloqueo Velaryon y matar a su hijastro Jace.

Daemon abandonó Harrenhal cuando Aemond y Ser Criston Cole comenzaron a marchar contra la fortaleza ribereña. En su lugar, Daemon voló sobre Caraxes para regresar a Desembarco del Rey y asistir con Rhaenyra a la captura de la capital.

Mientras buscaba a Aemond y a Vhagar, que fueron arrasando las Tierras de los Ríos, Daemon hizo de Ortigas su amante y dispuso como base Poza de la Doncella. El maestre Norren les informó de que la reina Rhaenyra quería muerta a Ortigas. Daemon y Ortigas se separaron a la mañana siguiente.

Daemon finalmente desafió a Aemond, esperando durante trece días en Harrenhal, hasta que llegó este último para confrontarlo. La Batalla sobre el Ojo de Dioses terminó con la muerte de los dos jinetes y la de los dos dragones sobre el Ojo de Dioses, tras clavar a Hermana Oscura en el ojo de Aemond.

Daemon no cumplió la ambición de sentarse en el Trono de Hierro, aunque sus hijos Aegon III y Viserys II sí lo hicieron. En 170 d.C., la princesa Daena Targaryen nombró a su hijo bastardo Daemon en honor a su abuelo.

Es un personaje complejo, no es ni blanco, ni negro... Suena ridículo que haya abandonado todo (El trono, a Rhaenyra, a sus hijos y la guerra) por una chica que no le traería nada. Es dudoso el amor entre el y Rhaenyra, se veía claro que se caso con ella por ambición, pero también hay ciertos factores que hacen pensar que quería protegerla y que lucharía por ella (Ademas creo que para el hubiera sido fácil matarla cuando tomaron el trono de hierro y el ser el regente de su hijastro Joffrey o de Aegon, pero no lo hizo).�� Aun así lo considero un personaje atractivo, con sus ambiciones (como las de todos los personajes), con sus defectos, con sus cualidades y habilidades, llegando a ser uno de los temores mas grandes de los Verdes.

Prince Daemon Targaryen was the second son of Prince Baelon Targaryen and his sister wife, Princess Alyssa Targaryen. He had two brothers, Viserys and Aegon. He was a dragon rider Caraxes.

During the Great Council of A.D. 101 Daemon supported his brother Viserys' claim, which would make him his heir. Daemon was said to have assembled a small army, while Lord Corlys Velaryon was rumored to be preparing a fleet to defend the rights of his son Laenor.

When his brother became king, a tournament was held at Poza de la Maiden, in honor of Viserys' accession to the throne. Daemon participated in the tournament and was twice defeated by a young knight named Ser Criston Cole. Later, despite the king's refusal to grant the nullity of his marriage, he was allowed to access the Privy Council. He served as Counselor of the Currency between A.D. 103 and 104. and Edict Counselor for six months. His continued apathy during the Council sessions and his rivalry with Otto Hightower, who could not bear his presence, caused him to leave his post.

After serving on the Privy Council, he became Commander of the King's Landing City Guard for two years. During his time in the City Guard, Daemon inspired loyalty among his men, improvements were made to the clothing and weaponry of his members, and he gave each of them a golden cloak, made by which they became known as the golden layers. Crime was drastically reduced under Daemon's command, probably due to his habit of inflicting severe penalties on malefactors. Daemon developed a dark reputation in taverns and brothels, where he was seen in his spare time. In one of these brothels he met a prostitute named Mysaria, who would serve as his counselor for the Rumors on the streets of Lecho de Pulgas. While Daemon called himself "the Prince of the City", he was better known as "Lord Flea Bed" among the residents of the capital.

It was no secret that Daemon considered himself the heir to King Viserys I, during the time the latter had no male children. Daemon coveted the title of Prince of Dragonstone, with which he proclaimed himself, but the king did not welcome it. Being Otto Hightower was of the same opinion, so he proposed Rhaenyra as heir. King Viserys however did not address the question of inheritance, as he hoped to conceive a child someday.

When Queen Aemma Arryn died in childbirth of her son Baelon, the son King Viserys I Targaryen had always wanted, Daemon was seen in a Silk Street brothel making drunken pranks with his friends about "the heir by one day". This angered King Viserys, who declared Rhaenyra his heir. After being left behind in the line of succession to the throne, Daemon leaves the irate capital.

In Dragonstone, Daemon impregnates his lover Mysaria and for a time they live in Lys. However, they lose the boy during his return trip to Westeros, when the king furiously ordered Daemon to return with his wife Rhea to the Valley.

In 115 A.D. he left the Stone Steps and was unable to claim Rune Stone after Rhea's death. Being a widower, Daemon married Laena Velaryon, daughter of his friend Corlys, with whom he had two twin daughters, Rhaena and Baela. He toured the Free Cities with her, but Laena died in childbirth in 120 AD. That same year, Daemon married her niece, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, and had three children with her, Aegon, Viserys, and a stillborn daughter.

During the civil war he had more military experience than all his enemies combined. At Dragonstone, during Rhaenyra's coronation, Daemon placed the crown of Jaehaerys I Targaryen on his wife's head, later claiming for himself the title of Protector of the Realm. He was one of the main supports and advisers of his wife.

Daemon captured Harrenhal at the immediate surrender of Simon Strong. After learning of the death of his stepson, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, at the hands of Aemond Targaryen, hired two assassins, Blood and Cheese, to end the life of one of King Aegon II's sons.

The enemies Prince Daemon made during his adventures turned against the Blacks when Ser Otto Hightower, now the Hand of King Aegon II, was able to recruit the Triarchy fleet against them, break the Velaryon blockade, and kill his stepson Jace. 

Daemon left Harrenhal when Aemond and Ser Criston Cole began to march against the riverside fortress. Instead, Daemon flew over Caraxes to return to King's Landing and assist Rhaenyra in capturing the capital.

While searching for Aemond and Vhagar, who were devastating the Riverlands, Daemon made Nettles his mistress and made Maiden Pool a base. Master Norren informed them that Queen Rhaenyra wanted Nettles dead. Daemon and Ortigas separated the following morning.

Daemon finally challenged Aemond, waiting for thirteen days at Harrenhal, until the latter arrived to confront him. The Battle over the Eye of the Gods ended with the death of the two horsemen and the death of the two dragons over the Eye of the Gods, after nailing Dark Sister in the eye of Aemond.

Daemon did not fulfill the ambition to sit on the Iron Throne, although his sons Aegon III and Viserys II did. In AD 170, Princess Daena Targaryen named her bastard son Daemon after her grandfather.

He is a complex character, he is neither white nor black ... It sounds ridiculous that he abandoned everything (The throne, Rhaenyra, his children and the war) for a girl who would not bring him anything. The love between him and Rhaenyra is doubtful, it was clear that he married her out of ambition, but there are also certain factors that make him think that he wanted to protect her and that he would fight for her (I also think that it would have been easy for him to kill her when they took the throne iron and being the regent of his stepson Joffrey or Aegon, but he did not). Even so, I consider him an attractive character, with his ambitions (like those of all the characters), with his defects, with his qualities and abilities, becoming one of the greatest fears of the Greens.

[marcopolorules]

MEDICIÓN DE DISTANCIAS ⠀ ⠀ Si una ciudad no late, ⠀ hasta un árbol es nada ⠀ y un balcón es tronera ⠀ o precipicio. ⠀ Serás el prisionero ⠀ a quien nadie vigila, ⠀ en propio pecho encarcelado. ⠀ ⠀ Entiende lo incomprensible ⠀ y ámalo. Ocupa el revés del intento: ⠀ sé cardo, cuando llegaste como lana, ⠀ piedra, cuando, hilo de seda, flotarías.⠀ ⠀ DISTANCE MEASUREMENT⠀ ⠀ If a city does not beat,⠀ even a tree is nothing⠀ and a balcony is an embrasure⠀ or precipice.⠀ You will be the prisoner⠀ whom nobody watches,⠀ in his own chest imprisoned.⠀ ⠀ Understand the incomprehensible⠀ and love it. Occupy the reverse of the attempt:⠀ be thistle, when you came as wool,⠀ stone, when, silk thread, would you float.⠀ ⠀ Ida Vitale ⠀ Poesía Reunida / Poetry Reunited⠀ & @the.cut.up (artist⠀ ⠀ ⠀ #analogcollage #analogcollagecommune #collageart #collage_art #collageartist #collageartwork #collagework #collagecollectiveco #c_expo #collagemaker #contemporarycollage #collage_guild #collagetash #handcutcollage #cutandpaste #handmadecollage #papercut #collageonpaper #gluepaperscissors #retrocollage #minimalcollage #collages #collageartistsonistagram #collage_expo #vagabondwho #marcopolorules #thecutup https://www.instagram.com/p/CKOlplanFPe/?igshid=1l672hmsx7fdr

[mpworld]

Reportaje de la revista Rolling Stones con la plantilla de CASH MONEY Records. Año 2000. Pt3.

Pero recordé algo que alguien me dijo una vez: "Todo lo que te equivoques, lo perderás". Y joder, lo hice. Sabes cómo te pasan las cosas y piensas, '¿Por qué a mí?' Bueno, reflexioné sobre eso, y luegopensé, '¿Por qué no a mí?' Así que decidí que era hora de cambiar mis costumbres ".

En 1996, Cash Money Records lanzó Chopper City de B.G. Marcó un cambio importante en la dirección del sello, mezclando el rebote de Nueva Orleans con rimas hardcore de estilo gangsta, e introdujo el sonido melódico de fiesta de sintetizador y guitarra que se ha convertido en la marca registrada de Fresh. Aunque solo tenía dieciséis años en ese momento, B.G. es una presencia contundente, alternando raps vívidos y nerviosos que celebran la santa trinidad de Cash Money (autos, mujeres y diamantes) con narrativas más vulnerables sobre las drogas, la muerte y una infancia embrujada. En "So Much Death", una carta a supadre, B.C. rapea: "Todo lo que él quería que hiciera, ser genial, quedarme en la escuela / Pero los tipos con los que me relaciono cambiaron toda la actitud / Cuando murió, comencé a apresurarme para que me pagaran / Hice lo contrario, sé que estás entregando tu tumba." ANTES DE CRISTO. podría ser el primer rapero en hablar sobre su propia adicción a la heroína, y Chopper City anunció un nuevo sonido que surge de Nueva Orleans. "Cuando lo estábamos haciendo, no estoy mintiendo, la gente estaba un poco asustada", dice Fresh. “Porque esto era algo nuevo, y siempre fuimos conocidos como una etiqueta de rebote. Pero cuando salió a la calle, fue como la nueva moda. Dejó a todos los demás gatos que estaban rebotando, como cinco años atrás ". El SharpstownMall, en el lado suroeste de Houston, es un monumento que se desvanece a la expansión suburbana de los sesenta. La mayoría de las boutiques premium se han trasladado a la más nueva y elegante Galleria, y Sharpstown es ahora un destino de cuello azul, hogar de grandes almacenes de descuento y tiendas de ropa urbana. "Oye, Mannie Fresh, ¿eres tú?" grita una mujer grande que sostiene a un bebé, menos de treinta segundos después de que atravesamos la enorme entrada de las fauces. Este no es un hecho infrecuente: Fresh, cuyo rostro redondo y ojos estrechos lo hacen parecer una tortuga de peluche, es una estrella en el sur. Dondequiera que vayamos, el banco, el lavado de autos, la gasolinera, 7-Eleven, la gente quiere acercarse a Mannie. Oye, mamá, ¿qué pasa? él dice. "Mannie Fresh, te he amado desde siempre. Ven aquí y dame un beso ". "Te ves bien, cariño, pero me han tomado". "Mannie Fresh, ven aquí". "Nos vemos en Foot Locker, cariño". "Intento permanecer en un segundo plano, hombre, pero es difícil estos días", dice Fresh, cuyo verdadero nombre es Byron Thomas, mientras navegamos entre la multitud hacia la zapatería. Fresh creció viendo a su padre, un DJ de Nueva Orleans, tocar discos de soul y jazz en fiestas en casas de vecindario, y comenzó a grabar canciones en Los Ángeles para raperos como Tupac y para el famoso productor de house de Chicago Steve “Silk” Hurley. Vive con su esposa de diez años y sus dos hijas, de ocho y cinco años, en un suburbio boscoso frente al lago al este de Nueva Orleans. Es el miembro de Cash Money con más probabilidades de ir directamente a casa después de un concierto, e incluso en Houston se comunica con su familia cada pocas horas. Se queja de que no puede ir al supermercado de su vecindario sin que lo asalten. Hace unas semanas, trató de llevar a sus hijas a ver a Rugrats en un cineplex de Nueva Orleans, pero la multitud se puso tan ruidosa que el ujier le devolvió el dinero y le pidió que se fuera. Dentro de la tienda, Fresh se prueba un par de Timberlands talla ocho, cuero marrón con parches de lona verde. "He estado usando botas toda mi vida", dice. “Cuando era niño, eran botas de Walmart, pequeñas de nueve dólares, y ahora obtuve estas Timberlands. Me encantan las botas ". Fresh se decide por dos pares para él y varios más para los guardaespaldas y parásitos que lo siguen por el centro comercial. “Cuido a mis amigos”, dice, sacando un fajo de cientos. "No puedes llevártelo contigo. Pero ", agrega, mirando a su alrededor," solo espero que se presenten en mi funeral o mi lectura de cargos, o si solo necesito un amigo ".

Juvenile, que filmó videos de sus éxitos “Ha” y “Back That Azz Up” aquí, dice que piensa en la mayoría de sus canciones caminando por el Magnolia. “Me gusta hablar sobre mi gente, cómo nos va, cómo nos divertimos”, dice Juvenile, de 24 años, cuyo verdadero nombre es Terius Gray. Es temprano en la mañana en Nueva Orleans, y Juvenile está sentado en su SUV Cadillac amarillo como un taxi, avanzando rápidamente a través deTerminator en un nuevo sistema de DVD con tres pantallas y un amplificador de 500 vatios. Anoche, después de volar desde Las Vegas, planeaba ir a casa a ver a su hija, pero terminó en House of Blues. Aún no se ha dormido y se queja de que todavía usa los mismos jeans y la camiseta FUBU que usó en los Premios Billboard hace dos noches. "No somos el tipo de gente que se olvida de dónde venimos", dice con un acento entrecortado y ronco. “Eso es todo sobre el éxito: podrías tener todo el dinero del mundo, pero si no tienes paz mental y no estás disfrutando de tu vida, ¿para qué lo tienes? Solo tienes una oportunidad de vivir. Mi gente, de donde yo vengo, toda mi gente está luchando, y yo soy, como, el único de allá que tiene un gran éxito. Así que pienso en esa mierda y trato de hacer lo correcto para mi gente y para mí ".

Los lugareños dicen que no es raro que el equipo de Cash Money pase por Magnolia con un camión lleno de bicicletas para los niños o para organizar una barbacoa dominical espontánea. El último Día de Acción de Gracias, dice Slim, Cash Money regaló 500 pavos. Actualmente, la etiqueta está trabajando con la ciudad para construir un centro de cómputo y está investigando la posibilidad de comprar todo el complejo Magnolia, porque, como ha sugerido Slim, podría hacer un mejor trabajo al administrarlo que el gobierno local. “Nosotros retribuimos”, dice Wayne. “Es lo correcto. No culpo a nadie por no hacerlo. Si tienen cien mil billonesde dólares y no devuelven uno, no estoy enojado contigo. No tienes que hacer nada. Es solo que no somos ese tipo de personas ". En 1998, Cash Money firmó un contrato de distribución de $ 30 millones por tres años con la gigantesca Universal Records. Los fondos permitieron a Cash Money distribuir sus discos en todo el país por primera vez y le dieron al sello el músculo de marketing, publicidad y promoción radial que necesitaba para llegar a una audiencia nacional. Slim and Baby retuvo la propiedad y el control total de las grabaciones de Cash Money, a cambio de un porcentaje de todas las ganancias futuras. “[Universal] nos brindó la oportunidad de tomar las decisiones que debemos tomar, de dirigir nuestra empresa, de ser creativos y está funcionando”, dice Slim.

Sabíamos que sería difícil separar a estos tipos de Nueva Orleans a nivel nacional ”, dice Dino Delvaille, el representante de Universal A&R que firmó Cash Money. “Así que queríamos darles la configuración adecuada y hacerlo bien a largo plazo. Tienen $ 30 millones para elegir para hacer sus videos, publicitar y comercializar sus discos, hacer giras y grabar. Pero la cosa simplemente despegó y ahora están vendiendo como 500.000 discos al mes, todos los meses, con muy pocos gastos generales. Eso equivale a mucho dinero para ellos y para nosotros. Independientemente del dinero que les dimos inicialmente, en un año lo recuperaron todo. Ahora les damos un cheque cada mes que asciende a millones ". Para Fresh, el avance es una reivindicación para Nueva Orleans. “Siempre tuve gente que me decía: 'Tienes que hacer una pista de la costa oeste, tienes que hacer una pista de la costa este', y al principio caí en esa mentalidad. Pero mi papá, que siempre ha sido, como, la persona número uno detrás de mí, dijo: "No cambies tus cosas. Muéstrales cómo suena tu ciudad '. Así que pensé, si nos aceptarán, seamos aceptados por algo que nadie más ya está haciendo ". Puedes escuchar ese sonido audaz en los 400 grados de Juvenile, un collage de alta energía de guitarras y percusión sobre el que Juvenile rapea en su estilo callejero poco convencional. El primer sencillo de ese álbum, "Ha", es una celebración de la jerga del ghetto en la que Juvenile escupe una serie de preguntas marcadas por la palabra ha. Lump, que dirige la empresa de marketing callejero On the Level Promotions y ha trabajado.

con Cash Money desde 1994, dice que la canción fue concebida en el estilo típicamente libre de Cash Money: "Fuimos a Nashville a grabar y Juve me dijo:" Lump, tengo una idea para una canción. Toda la canción es una pregunta ". Le dije:" ¿Qué, toda la canción va a ser una pregunta? ", Y él dijo:" Toda la maldita canción es una pregunta ". Fui a Applebees a buscar algo de comer y regresé. Mannie hizo el ritmo en unos veinte minutos, y Jure acababa de entrar: 'Ese eres tú con ese Benz rudo, ja / Ese eres tú que no puede retener a tu anciana porque sigues jodiendo a sus amigos, ja / ... tu cuerpo limpio, ja ... 'Y fue un éxito. Lo sabías en esemomento ". Cash Money se enorgullece de trabajar rápido y barato. Delvaille estima que la mayoría de los álbumes del sello tardan menos de una semana y cuestan menos de 50.000 dólares, en comparación con los 800.000 o 1 millón de dólares que Jay-Z o Puffy podrían gastar. Fresh dice que la velocidad no es una estrategia para ahorrar dinero. “Trabajo mejor rápido”, dice. “Mucha gente tiene miedo de arriesgarse con lo primero que se les viene a la cabeza. Buscan un truco. Pero si buscas un éxito, es menos probable que lo consigas que si simplemente lo dejas venir. La gente se sienta allí dejándose los sesos; Dejé que saliera naturalmente ". Fresh toca el tambor se rompe él mismo, además de la mayoría de las guitarras, el bajo y algunos de los teclados. Nunca usa muestras. "Tienes que sentir el arte, no puedes simplemente programarlo", dice. "Eso no funciona. La gente siempre viene y me pregunta: "¿Qué tipo de equipo usas? ¿Tienes el nuevo JB-lo que sea? "Yo digo," No, uso la misma mierda de siempre que he usado durante diez años. La mierda ruidosa ".

Dice que creció escuchando principalmente soul - “Mi papá tocaba a Marvin Gaye, muy alto, temprano en la mañana” - pero encuentra inspiración en todo tipo de música. Las cuerdas iniciales pulsadas en "Back That Azz Up", dice, se inspiraron en un réquiem de Mozart; el riff de guitarra que recorre "You Dig" de los Hot Boys fue extraído de "Tom Sawyer" de Rush. "Escuché esa canción en labanda sonora de The Waterboy, y pensé, 'Podría hacer algo con eso'", dice. "Así que en lugar de probarlo, lo hago a mi manera". A la medianoche, después de una cena de cangrejo Dungeness y cócteles congelados de color verde nuclear en Joe's Crab Shack, Fresh y un pequeño grupo se retiran a la suite junior del productor en el Houston Marriott antes de regresar a los clubes. Tres mujeres jóvenes, una con jeans ajustados y las otras con minivestidos de colores brillantes, se sientan en la cama king size a maquillarse mientras los miembros del equipo de Cash Money Road entran y salen con cervezas, ginebra y jugo de arándano. Bearwolfe, un amigo de Fresh, un músico de gospel de Houston que toca los teclados en la mayoría de los discos de Cash Money, está bebiendo ginebra y jugo, hablando con Fresh sobre los próximos proyectos. "Por lo general, juego en la iglesia, así que cuando estoy con Fresh trato de traer ese mismo sentimiento, no puedo evitarlo", dice Bearwolfe, vestido todo de blanco, con gafas cuadradas con montura dorada en el estilo que una vez prefirió. Martillo. "El R&B y el gospel saldrán, ya sabes". "Déjame decirte lo que realmente hace que este tipo sea importante: es humano", dice Fresh. “Cuando salimos del estudio, no hablamos de música, hablamos de la vida. Nos divertimos. Y eso se traslada a la música.

Ya sabes, tratamos de darle a la gente una experiencia completa cuando escuchan nuestros discos ”, agrega. “La mayoría de los álbumes en estos días tienen, como, una o dos buenas canciones, y el resto es relleno. Quiero que tengan una experiencia completa con la música. Así es como escucho la música, así es como quiero que se escuchen mis discos. No puede ser simplemente de usar y tirar ". Bearwolfe le pregunta a Fresh si se pondrá las joyas cuando salga esta noche. Fresh señala su Rolex y dice que no le gusta usar el resto de sus considerables accesorios de oro y diamantes. "Es un poco de mal gusto usar todas esas cosas", dice. "Así soy yo." Se sirve una bebida, cambia MTV y se recuesta en la cama llena de gente. "Sabes", continúa, "es fácil quedar atrapado en este dinero, pero realmente no nos gusta eso, el dinero es simplemente una cosa extra genial. No me siento cómodo a menos que esté haciendo música. Los coches son bonitos, pero podría sobrevivir con fiestas de DJ y esas cosas; es un placer para mí hacer lo que realmente quiero hacer. Quiero poder irme a casa cuando todo esto termine y aún tener a Nueva Orleans detrás de mí. Eso es lo que guardas, no el dinero. "No me malinterpretes", dice. “El Cristal y el hielo, eso es bueno. Pero si todo se derrumba, prefiero tener mi ciudad ".

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Calcedonio di Pisa - City Palermo - Noce - Mafia Siciliana - Ex boss of the Noce Neighbourhood mafia family

Also known as Doruccio, was a member of the Sicilian Mafia. He was the boss of the Mafia family in the Noce neighbourhood in Palermo and sat on the first Sicilian Mafia Commission, the coordinating body of Cosa Nostra in Sicily.

Di Pisa was born in Palermo. He was described by Norman Lewis in "The Honoured Society" as "a garish young freebooter, habitually begloved, shirted in a puce silk and with a coat of the palest camel hair – a kind of latter-day George Raft. He drove a butter-coloured, gadget-festooned Alfa Romeo, and with his dandified presence he was anathema to the mafiosi of the old school …." Di Pisa was a contrabandist in cigarettes and was actively involved in the flourishing real-estate racket, known as the Sack of Palermo, during the reign of Salvo Lima as mayor of Palermo. He was known as one of the ablest emissaries of the Mafia in Palermo in the field of tobacco smuggling and drug trafficking.

Di Pisa was present at a series of meetings in the hotel Delle Palme and the Spanò seafood restaurant between top Italian-American and Sicilian mafiosi in Palermo on October 12–16, 1957. Joseph Bonanno, Lucky Luciano, John Bonventre, Frank Garofalo, Santo Sorge and Carmine Galante were among the American mafiosi present, while among the Sicilian side were Salvatore "Ciaschiteddu" Greco and his cousin Salvatore Greco, known as "l'ingegnere" or "Totò il lungo", Giuseppe Genco Russo, Angelo La Barbera, Gaetano Badalamenti and Tommaso Buscetta.

Di Pisa was killed on December 26, 1962, on the Piazza Principe di Camporeale in Palermo while walking to a tobacco kiosk. Three men shot him with a sawn-off shotgun and a revolver. None of the bystanders on the square could even recall hearing any shots, when questioned by the police.

Di Pisa's murder triggered the outbreak of the First Mafia War. The conflict erupted over an underweight shipment of heroin. The shipment was financed by Cesare Manzella, the Greco cousins from Ciaculli and the La Barbera brothers (Angelo and Salvatore) from Palermo Centre.

Only later did it become clear that Mafia boss Michele Cavataio had killed Di Pisa, according to Tommaso Buscetta after he became a cooperating witness in 1984.

ESPAÑOL

También conocido como Doruccio, fue un miembro de la mafia siciliana . Era el jefe de la familia mafiosa del barrio de Noce de Palermo y se sentó en la primera Comisión, el organismo coordinador de la Cosa Nostra en Sicilia.

Di Pisa fue descrito por Norman Lewis en "The Honoured Society" como "un joven y vulgar filibustero, normalmente con guantes, vestido con una camisa de seda de color morado y un abrigo de pelaje de camello muy pálido – como aquellos que se usaban en la época de George Raft. Conducía un Alfa Romeo de color crema y decorado con todo tipo de artilugios, y con su aspecto de dandi era todo un anatema para los mafiosos de la vieja escuela…"1​ Di Pisa era un contrabandista de cigarrillos y estaba activamente involucrado en el florecimiento de la especulación inmobiliaria, conocido como el saqueo de Palermo, durante el reinado de Salvo Lima como alcalde de Palermo.

Di Pisa estuvo presente en la serie de reuniones en el Hotel delle Palme y en la marisquería Spanò, junto a los mafiosos americanos y sicilianos más renombrados en Palermo entre el 12 y el 16 de octubre de 1957. Joseph Bonanno, Lucky Luciano, John Bonventre, Frank Garofalo, Santo Sorge y Carmine Galante fueron algunos de los mafiosos americanos presentes, mientras que en el bando siciliano se encontraban Salvatore "Ciaschiteddu" Greco y su primo Salvatore Greco "l'ingegnere", conocido como "l'ingegnere" o "Totò il lungo", Giuseppe Genco Russo, Angelo La Barbera, Gaetano Badalamenti y Tommaso Buscetta.​

Di Pisa fue asesinado el 26 de diciembre de 1962, en la Piazza di Principe Camporeale de Palermo, mientras se dirigía a un estanco a por tabaco. Tres hombres le dispararon con una escopeta de cañón recortado y un revólver. Ninguno de los presentes en la plaza reveló haber oído ningún disparo cuando fueron interrogados por la policía

El asesinato di Pisa desencadenó el estallido de la Primera guerra de la mafia. El conflicto estalló por un cargamento de heroína trucado. Cesare Manzella, los primos de Ciaculli y los hermanos La Barbera de Palermo Centro habían financiado la expedición.

Sólo más tarde se hizo evidente que el jefe de la mafia Michele Cavataio había matado a Di Pisa, según relata Tommaso Buscetta después de que se convirtiera en colaborador de justicia en 1984. Cavataio había perdido su influencia respecto a los Greco en una guerra por el controlar el mercado al por mayor a mediados de 1950. Entonces Cavataio asesinó a Di Pisa a sabiendas de que los hermanos La Barbera habrían sido culpabilizados por los Greco y que por tanto se hubiera comenzado una guerra entre clanes. Para que siguiera reinando esta confusión, Cavataio siguió alimentando la guerra a través de otros ataques con bombas y asesinatos.

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Black silk faille formal dress, 1894-96 Though #19thcentury black clothing is often characterized as mourning dress, black was also worn for fashion. 🖤 According to The Ladies' Home Journal in 1895, a "well-dressed women always appreciates the vogue given to all black costumes." This black dress is made from silk faille, a tightly woven fabric with a lightly ribbed texture. 😱🤔This dress bears an unusual label: (keep reading on the comments) Maynard, Tailleuse pour Dame, Salt Lake City, Utah. In the 1890s, Salt Lake City was a relatively new community; the first non-native settlers had arrived only in the late 1840s Source: FIDM Museum 🇧🇷 Vestido formal #Vitoriano em faillete de seda preta, 1894-96 Embora as roupas negras do #seculo19 sejam frequentemente caracterizadas como vestidos de luto, o preto também era usado por pura moda. 🖤 De acordo com o The Ladies 'Home Journal em 1895, uma "mulher bem vestida sempre aprecia a voga (moda) de todos os trajes pretos" . Este vestido preto é feito de faillete de seda, um tecido bem entrelaçado com uma textura levemente nervurada. 😱🤔 Mas este vestido tem uma etiqueta incomum: (continue lendo nos comentários) Maynard, Tailleuse pour Dame, Salt Lake City, Utah. Aonde eu morei 🤣 Na época de 1890, Salt Lake City era uma comunidade relativamente nova; os primeiros colonos não nativos chegaram apenas no final da década de 1840 e é impressionante ver um traje tão alta moda feito ali tão longe das outras grandes metrópoles. Você usaria? 🖤🖤🖤👉🏽 Siga @brazilianbaroness Fonte: Museu FIDM  https://blog.fidmmuseum.org/museum/2012/05/black-silk-faille-formal-dress-1894-96.html #modavitoriana #victorianera #eravitoriana #picnicvitoriano #costurahistorica #RoupadeEpoca #historicalclothing #historicalcostume #historicalsewing #roupashistoricas #trajevitoriano (at Salt Lake City, Utah) https://www.instagram.com/p/CHfv7w6AB8F/?igshid=gudkaxtw66ct