#Greenland Choir

[run-aled]

RED VALLEY: WHILE YOU WERE HYPERSLEEPING‘Part Three’

[transcript]

SCENE 1

GORDON IS IN THE MESS ROOM, PLAYING HIMSELF AT POOL. MUSIC PLAYING FROM THE JUKEBOX IN THE DISTANCE. HE LEAVES THE TAPE ROLLING A LITTLE WHILE.

GORDON: Hello. It's umm… day 13. I'm in the mess. I am playing myself at pool and winning. Oh… I fixed the jukebox. Just another easy fix by Gordon Porlock...Warden of the Valley.

HITS A SHOT. POCKETS IT.

GORDON: Ahh… Boom. Warden of the Valley. That deserves a badge. Hey Blue, that deserves a badge, right?

BLUE SKY: I didn't quite catch that.

GORDON: That's what she says when I deserve a badge.

TAKES ANOTHER SHOT.

CUT.

GORDON: I thought I better take some of these duties seriously. The caretaking duties I mean. I remembered what the manager of the Overlook Hotel said to Jack Nicholson. Not the bit about the guy who went crazy and murdered his family, the boring stuff about going around the hotel and warming different parts of it, making sure the pipes don't freeze. So I've done that. I've systematically gone through all the radiators, and checked all the light switches, and most of them work, and when I find one that doesn't, I make a little note of it, and then I remember I have no idea what to do about any of that stuff so I just shut the door to that room and don't go in there again.

CUT TO GORDON IN THE TOILET AND READING A BIRD BOOK.

GORDON: I'm reading more too. The pink footed goose, or Anser Brachyrhynchus, doesn't breed in the UK but, probably Iceland or Greenland, and is just wintering here. Anyway, if they're going to shit on me every day, I thought I should at least be able to address them by their full scientific names.

HE GETS UP AND FLUSHES.CUT TO: GORDON WASHING UP IN THE FARMHOUSE. IN THE BACKGROUND AN ANCIENT RECORDING OF A CHRISTMAS CHOIR.

GORDON: Well I've really come to love this farmhouse. It's so peaceful. There's a.. a record player and lots of old Christmas records. And it's November so seems appropriate. Hey Blue, tell me something interesting about Christmas.

BLUE SKY: Hi Gordon, did you know that not only did Oliver Cromwell ban Christmas pudding and mince pies in the 17th century, the law was never officially rescinded, so technically it's still illegal to eat them.

GORDON: Awesome.

CUT TO: GORDON IN THE CORRIDOR UPSTAIRS IN THE BASE, MOVING BOXES.

GORDON: So, a lot of the archiving I think is just literally moving boxes of tapes. I mean, sure, I'll need to go through them some time, but there's no rush.

SUDDENLY A PHONE STARTS RINGING, SOME DISTANCE AWAY. GORDON STOPS IN HIS TRACKS.

GORDON: What the hell is that?

BEAT AS HE THINKS.

GORDON: Hmm.

BLUE SKY: The phone is ringing.

GORDON: I mean I'm really busy, with these-

BEAT. THE RINGING IS INCESSANT.

BLUE SKY: The phone is ringing.

GORDON: For God's sake.

BLUE SKY: The phone is ringing.

HE PICKS IT UP. SOMEONE IS EATING ON THE OTHER END OF THE LINE.

GORDON: Hello?

CLIVE: Alright sugartits.

GORDON: Clive? Oh… Um., Bryony isn't here right now…

CLIVE: I know. Just wanted to check in on you.

GORDON: Oh er… Normally Grace or Pam would do a check in-

CLIVE: I know that too Gordon. Cos they work for me. Like you do.

GORDON: Of course, yeah, sure.

CLIVE: So how are you, Gordon?

GORDON: Oh, I'm great. Yeah… Great.

CLIVE: You doing what we're paying you to do, right?

GORDON: What do you mean?

CLIVE: Bryony asked you to look after the place and sort out the archives, didn't she? You know, the archives of the work we do at Red Valley. The world-changing, potentially limitlessly lucrative work that, frankly, is the only reason that gloomy little shithole hasn't been flattened by a giant Monty Python foot.

GORDON: Yes, yes, I'm on it.

CLIVE: You're on it.

GORDON: I'm on it.

CLIVE: You're sure you're on it? You're not just playing yourself at pool and listening to power ballads on the jukebox you repaired?

GORDON SCOFFS IN EMBARRASSED CONFUSION.

CLIVE: You know a Blue Sky unit is a microphone as well as a virtual assistant right?

BLUE SKY: Hello.

GORDON: I, uh. I did not know that actually.

HE PUTS HIS HAND OVER THE SPEAKER AND HISSES TO THE BLUE SKY UNIT.

GORDON: I thought we were friends!

CLIVE: I mean. It's kind of...I've already turned up on your doorstep once before after spying on you...

BLUE SKY: I found this on Friends. Friends is a situation comedy-

GORDON: Oh, don't even get me started on that.

CLIVE: What are you doing, Gordon?

GORDON: Oh er… Nothing, nothing, I'm just...I'm here.

CLIVE: That's just it. You see, I need you to do more than just be there, Gordon. I need you to work through those archives, mate. In fact- that's not even true. I don't give a liquid shit about the archives actually, I just need you to get everything on Warren Godby looking ship fucking shape. Because he's the ticket. For me, for you, for everything. If I find out you've been leaning back enjoying that ex-rental copy of Passion of the Christ, we're going to have a problem.

GORDON: I'll get on it, Clive. Right away.

CLIVE: Adda boy. Off you trot then.

GORDON: Yeah. Oh, Clive?

CLIVE: What?

GORDON: There's no one...else, around here, is there?

CLIVE: What do you mean?

GORDON: No one else around, any neighbours? Or Overhead people, who might want to visit, you know, in the middle of the night, then change their mind and drive away?

CLIVE SIGHS.

CLIVE: I don't give a shit if you're haunted by local sprites or some Highland bumpkin is plucking up the courage to invite you to the next caber tossing festival, keep your eyes on the cryonically preserved prize.

CLIVE HANGS UP.

PAUSE.

BLUE SKY: Is there anything I can help you with, Gordon?

GORDON: You and me are done professionally.

CUT.

MUSIC BREAK.

CUT TO: WARREN TURNS ON THE RECORDER AND PUTS IT DOWN. HE IS EXTREMELY OUT OF BREATH.

WARREN: Hi. Warren Godby here. Just got… back from a run. 8 o'clock in the morning, already done a run. Haven't even had breakfast. All 6 of us, along with umm…what’s his name Doctor umm… Doctor Mister Motivator. I don’t know. Do you know what, I started this too soon, give me a minute.

CUT.

GORDON: Blue Sky, save the project.

BLUE SKY: Remember you can call me Blue?

GORDON: We're not on first name terms anymore, Ms Sky.

BLUE SKY: Project saved. Would you like to play the next recording?

GORDON: Have you checked it already for my muted words and phrases?

BLUE SKY: There are no mentions of specific crimes or details relating to the sentence of Godby, Warren.

GORDON: Okay, go ahead.

THE NEXT RECORDING.

WARREN: Hello, hi. So I don't need to be so sycophantic. Apparently, there are no bonus points for obsequious behaviour or indeed, brown nosing, as Dr Halbech calls it, of any kind.

WARREN: Now that I'm in my little bedroom, and I've got my three minutes, erm… I do have a few thoughts about the induction day, you know that I could share. This is clearly a second hand induction pack. The main clue is the massive cock and balls that have been doodled over the contents page. Unless that’s your new Overhead watermark or something.

WARREN PULLS THE BLURB FROM HIS INDUCTION PACK.

WARREN: Right let's look at this. 'Congratulations from everyone at Overhead Industries! Here at Red Valley, our state of the art facility, you're about to join our team of expert clinicians and researchers, supported by our humm…caring, dedicated and highly qualified hospitality team that will make this experience closer to a rural retreat than a scientific study!'

WARREN: I take issue with the term 'state of the art', I suppose. My expectations for Red Valley were quite high. Er… I knewit was a laboratory underneath a military station in the wilderness, so of course I imagined, not unreasonably I think, Area 51 from Independence Day. White lab coats, stuttering science nerds played by Star Trek actors, maybe something like that crossed with the Dolph Lundgren training montage from Rocky IV, I don't know.Now, disappointment I can handle. I'm used to that. But I guess I was expecting, as a minimum, the kind of security that one might find in a highly guarded penal institution, like the one I just left, because, at the end of the day, all the new guests are hardened, violent convicted criminals after all. So when, at the end of today's induction session, Harry Reed decides to brain Stephens over the head with a fucking metal chair for making eye contact with him, I was somewhat surprised when absolutely fucking nothing happened, apart from Stephens being dragged by the feet out of the room leaving behind an oil slick of blood coming out of his head and Harry staring at us all with a look that could cut diamonds while folding and unfolding his arms every 3 seconds like a fucking maniac, which is exactly what he is.

WARREN: I think there are literally only 3 people working here. And there are six of us. That is bananas. This is going to end like Straw fucking Dogs. Goodnight.

CUT.

GORDON: Right. Well then.

BLUE SKY: There is a short addendum.

GORDON: Oh. Er… Go ahead.

PLAYS.

WARREN: Quick update. Little group meeting just now to inform us that Stephens and Reed are leaving the programme. Infact, they've apparently already left. Which is weird, cos there's only one way in or out of this valley and no one’s come or gone all day. So that's definitely not disconcerting whatsoever. I'm going to go and stare at the ceiling for the rest of the night. Bye.

CUT.

FOOTSTEPS ALONG THE CORRIDOR IN THE LOWER LEVEL, REACHING A DOOR. GORDON OPENS IT AND WALKS INTO A ROOM- THE CRYO SUITE. EVENTUALLY HE REACHES HIS DESTINATION.

GORDON: Evening Warren.

GORDON PLACES HIS RECORDER ON THE METALLIC CRYO POD.

GORDON: Apologies I haven't been down to see you much. You look well. I can't actually see you. I thought they would've put windows in a cryopod. So people could see you floating about. But, I guess it's nice to have privacy, isn't it?

PAUSE.

GORDON: I've been struggling Warren. With what's going on here. The truth is I have to make a choice. To be a friend to you or not. I'm going to keep listening to your tapes. But I'm not going to find out what you did. I'd like to say it's because I'm respecting your privacy, but the truth is I recognise the guys on these recordings. He doesn't sound too different to me. He's scared, he's lonely, he hates exercise. Look… maybe you're not who I think you are. But given the company we keep, you might still be the least awful person I currently work with. So, let’s be friends. I'll be back tomorrow. And maybe I’ll bring Top Trumps or something.

END.

[bjorkfr]

It's in 2001 were @bjork made us to be her choir singers in her Vespertine Tour 😊👍 its an experience I'll never forget. Here is a pic from the rehearsals in Ilulissat just before world tour. #worldtour #bjork #ilulissat#choirsingers #music

[greatworldwar2]

• Chariot Manned Torpedo

The Chariot was a British manned torpedo used in World War II. The Chariot was inspired by the operations of Italian naval commandos, in particular the raid in December 1941 by members of the Decima Flottiglia MAS.

The Italians were the first to use midget submarines to great effect in World War Two. In September 1941, six members of the Italian Navy's elite assault team known as the "Sea Devils" sailed their 20-foot long torpedoes called the Maiale or "Pig" into the British naval base at Gibraltar where they sank British cargo ships. Britain's wartime leader Winston Churchill was furious at the success of the raid and demanded that the Royal Navy establish a similar manned torpedo force to attack Axis shipping in their own harbours. Official development of the Chariot began in April 1942, primarily led by two officers of the Royal Navy's submarine service: Commander Geoffrey Sladen DSO*, DSC and Lieutenant Commander William Richmond "Tiny" Fell CMG, CBE, DSC. Training of crews was based out of the depot ship HMS Titania initially stationed at Gosport and later in Scotland at Loch Erisort (known as port "HZD"), Loch a' Choire (known as port "HHX") and Loch Cairnbawn (known as port "HHZ") and out of HMS Bonaventure in the same region. British Chariot Mark I was 22 feet 4 inches long, 2 feet 11 inches wide, 3 feet 11 inches high and weighed 1.6 tonnes. The battery powered motor had three settings: slow, medium and full which permitted a top speed of about 3.5 knots. The Chariot manned torpedo had a maximum diving depth of 27 metres and an endurance of about seven or eight hours. The detachable warhead containing 600 pounds of Torpex, an explosive mix developed for torpedoes which was 50% more powerful than TNT by mass. Some 34 Chariot Mark I torpedoes were manufactured from 1942 followed, in 1944, by thirty larger semi-enclosed Mark II examples which had a warhead containing 1,200 pounds of explosives.

A Chariot's limited range meant that it had to be transported relatively close to its objective before its crew could ride it to the target under its own power. The warhead, which was detonated by timer, would be detached and left at the enemy ship. The crew would then attempt to ride the Chariot to a rendezvous with a friendly submarine or be forced to abandon the Chariot and escape by other means. Later deployment of the Chariot was made by carrying the machines to their point of departure by submarine. In early attempts, tubes were fitted to the deck of a submarine to contain the Chariots. The tubes were 24 feet 2 inches long and had an exterior height of 5 feet 4 inches. The Chariots sat on wheeled bogeys inside, strapped down until needed. Later in the war, due to problems encountered with this method, Chariots were instead secured to the deck of the submarine using chocks.

After months of training in underwater sabotage and exercises (during which one frogman died) the British Chariot teams were finally ready for their first mission. It would be worthy of their elite status. An attack on the mighty German battleship - the dreaded Tirpitz, sister ship to the Bismarck, and the largest German warship in northern waters. Her presence seriously threatened Britain's Arctic convoys shipping supplies to the Russians. It was imperative that she be eliminated. Securely moored in a fjord in Norway and surrounded by torpedo nets and guard boats, the Tirpitz was going to be difficult to destroy. The plan (Operation Title) was to sail up the Trondheimsfjord where the Tirpitz was located and then launch the Chariots near the target. On October 26th, 1942 the Norwegian trawler Arthur, with two Chariots secreted beneath, entered the fjord. The trawler was commanded by Lieutenant Leif Larsen, a Norwegian in the British Special Operations Executive with the Chariot teams. Unfortunately a storm struck as they sailed along the Fjord and both Chariots were torn off the hull when just 10 miles short of the German battleship. Larsen regretfully was forced to abandon the mission. Despite its failure Larsen would be awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal, the first non-Briton to do so, for his courageous attempt to disable the Tirpitz at its berth.

Chariots were sent to the Mediterranean Sea, and a more successful operation was carried out against the Italians. On January 3rd, 1943, two submarines launched Chariot torpedoes at Italian shipping in the Sicilian port of Palermo. While other teams attacked vessels in the harbour, including a liner being used as a troopship, Lieutenant Dickie Greenland RNVR, and Leading Signalman Alex Ferrier broke through the defensive torpedo nets surrounding the light cruiser Ulpio Traiano and attached their warhead beneath her keel. Realising that they could not now return to their parent submarine they decided to scuttle the Chariots and attempt to escape from Palermo overland. They were soon apprehended, but had the satisfaction of hearing the detonation of their explosive charges inflicting seriously damage to Axis vessels in the harbour. Chariots were not only used for attacks on enemy vessels. In May and June 1943 they were used to reconnoitre potential landing beaches for the Allied invasion of Sicily (Operation Husky). These were carried out partly by Chariots launched from the submarines HMS Unseen (P51) and HMS Unrivalled (P45). On the night of June 21st, 1944 a joint British and Italian operation was mounted to prevent the occupying Germans from sinking the Italian cruisers Bolzano and Gorizia as block-ships in La Spezia, northern Italy. Two Chariots were launched from a motor torpedo boat but unfortunately one had to be abandoned when it began to leak and could not be controlled. The other (crewed by Sub Lieutenant Malcolm Causer RN and Able Seamen Harry Smith RN) reached the Bolzano and successfully sank the cruiser at her berth.

In October 1944 "the final and only completely successful British Chariot operation" occurred when two crews on Mk II Chariots, commanded by Lieutenant Tony Eldridge RNVR, were launched from the submarine HMS Trenchant (commanded by Lt.Cmdr. Arthur "Baldy" Hezlet, RN) and sank two ships in the harbour of Japanese occupied Phuket, Thailand. After the war there were only six serviceable Chariot Mk.IIs left in the UK and by 1950 there were even fewer. With the post war defense cuts there was no serious consideration of procuring more. They were kept in limited service however and operated by Royal Navy Clearance Divers. The main tactical development was a plan to launch the Chariots against Soviet harbors from X-Craft midget submarines in the event of World War Three.

[lovejustforaday]

Album Review - Vespertine by Björk

Art Pop, Electronic

It’s the first day of real snow where I live, and that’s as good a time as any to review another one of my favourite Björk albums and one of my favourite winter albums, Vespertine. Vespertine was actually my first Björk album. Unlike Post and Homogenic which would later become immediate favourites upon first listen, Vespertine did not fully click with me the first time I heard it. Granted, the first time I heard it was during the summer which was a mistake on my part. This album is absolutely meant to be experienced with a snowy landscape.

Vespertine is also Björk’s most subtle work - it doesn’t have the dance pop sensibilities of Debut, the wacky cacophony of Post, or the emotional explosions of Homogenic. Instead, Björk’s fourth LP is an intimate and sensual experience, characterized by tiny microbeats and lush soundscapes that are evocative of Arctic scenery provided by string arrangements, harps, music boxes, and a heavenly choir of Inuit women from Greenland. She even samples the sound of footsteps in the snow for the beat on “Aurora”. Björk herself has described the album as “introverted”. The opener “Hidden Place” establishes the album’s core themes - intimacy, sex, sensory experience, warmth, self-love, and sharing the most sacred parts of your physical and mental being with another person. Sensory experience especially defines Vespertine - nearly every moment of the LP is about taking in the pleasure of a different sensation, be it witnessing the dazzling lights of aurora borealis (“Aurora”), the comforting warmth of a dream about a mother’s home cooking (“Heirloom”), and even the simple pleasure of the feeling of one’s own soft touch (“It’s Not Up To You”).

The sexual themes of Vespertine are distinctly unique from most pop music that tackles the subject. Rather than leaning in to societal notions of sex being ‘naughty’ or ‘dirty’, Vespertine celebrates sex as an example of nature’s elegant beauty. Björk reclaims female self-pleasure on “It’s Not Up To You” and “Hidden Place” as a form of radical self-love and self-knowing, and re-imagines the male body through her lover as being something graceful and gentle on “Cocoon” as opposed to the societal notion of the male body as a tool of aggression. Despite the album’s overall tone of soothing comfort, there lies a darker side of Vespertine that comes to the forefront on tracks like “Pagan Poetry” and “An Echo, A Stain”. Björk describes the experience of monogamy and giving oneself over to another person as being equally thrilling and terrifying, with the uncertainty of giving away the self providing the thematic tension of these tracks.

Nevertheless, album closer “Unison” ultimately resolves her inner conflict between self-love and loving another, with lyrics that resolve to live as her own person in harmonious synchronicity with her lover, knowing that she is able and choosing to be with him without sacrificing her own sense of self. “Unison” is also my favourite track, a perfect amalgamation of the album’s themes into a stunningly triumphant and sonically gratifying ballad, featuring what I consider to be her very best vocal performance in her entire discography as she belts out the final chorus in a glorious crescendo of musical ecstasy.

It might take a few listens to fully grasp its sublimity, but the experience of Vespertine is entirely worth it. Give yourself some time over the winter with this album and I can almost guarantee that you’ll fall in love with it. Walk out into a big snowy field with your earbuds and allow yourself to get completely lost in Björk’s winter wonderland that she created with this LP.

Highlights: “Unison”, “Undo”, “Hidden Place”, “Pagan Poetry”, “Cocoon”, “Aurora”, “Frosti”, “Sun In My Mouth”, “An Echo, A Stain”, “It’s Not Up To You”

10/10

[takottais-oc-askblog]

How would any of of your choice as I dont know them all or really well😅 react to the reader song them in their underwear?

I'm assuming you wanted headcanons, if not feel free to resend your request, and thank you for the ask!

On to the headcanons!

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Elliott:

• His initial reaction would be to blankly stare as his brain tries to process what's going on.

• Due to his personality he would probably try to keep up his tough guy mask and act like you singing to him while dancing around in your undies doesn't faze him.

• That is a lie, do not fall for it! For under all of that facepaint is a blushy boi.

• Try not to point it out, just enjoy getting to see his soft side for once.

Diel:

• As soon as she sees you dancing around she's stripping down and following along too, happy that you trust her enough to dance and sing infront of her in the almost nude.

• She's over here showing you up at your own concert, putting all of those years of church choir to good use for once.

• She undoubtedly, by the end of the song, has covered you and many, many lipstick stained kisses.

• Which, depending on who you are as a person, can lead to some wholesome cuddles or some naughty times.

Flesh:

• He will most likely send a couple cat calls your way but other than that he'll sit back and watch you have your fun, unless you pull him up to dance with you.

• You bet your ass that he'll try and be your backup singer/dancer, even though he ain't good.

• He sounds like a dying cat when he sings, but our skull boi here still tries.

• He loves that you two can be silly around each other.

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Tag list: @nansblockit @ask-the-amazing-greenland @slasher-beware @ticket-to-ride13 @illwaitinthisplace

If you want to be tagged just comment on this post or shoot me an ask/message, have a wonderful day!

[vinylexams]

INTERVIEW with Brian Cook of SUMAC, Russian Circles, Botch, These Arms are Snakes, and Roy 

Brian Cook of the MANY gnarly bands listed above took time to answer a bunch of questions that had been burning a hole in my mind for years earlier today. Did you know that aside from playing bass in some of the heaviest bands currently in existence, Brian is also an avid record collector and he also runs a very similar page where he posts all of his records and writes up a bit of history and personal context with each one? A man after my own heart! I’ve dropped a link to his Tumblr below and you’d be a fool not to go check it out and follow his work there.

https://bubblesandgutz.tumblr.com⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I really appreciated having a chance to talk to a very talented musician who also places a LOT of importance on physical medium and the recording process. All too often I get submissions from bands who either don’t know the in’s and out’s of the vinyl format or they took a lot of shortcuts and deprive their art a chance to really shine in the ways that vinyl allows. I picked Brian’s brain about his approach to creation of physical musical media as well as his history as a collector (and even tried to convince him to get These Arms are Snakes play my big gay wedding reception!). Thanks for taking the time to tell your story to us, Brian!

You've been a member of several incredible bands over the past few decades (Botch, Sumac, Russian Circles, These Arms Are Snakes), all of which have released pretty much everything they've recorded on vinyl. How important is the vinyl medium for you as a musician and creator?

Thanks for the kind words. It's really important to me for my music to have some sort of physical format. I realize that mode of thinking might seem sort of old school or outdated, but i've always been enamored by music as a kind of historical artifact. When I was younger, that meant it was important for me to have an actual Dead Kennedys cassette as opposed to a dubbed version from my friend. It was like the difference between owning a painting versus owning a xerox of a painting. When I became a musician, it was a sign of validation. By having a record with my name on it, I had created something that would potentially outlive me. And now in the digital age we've convinced ourselves that everything lives forever on the internet, but it's not true. Myspace just lost all their music. I've written for a lot of online music outlets that have closed shop or simply deleted old posts. Meanwhile, I have a trunk full of old zines that outlived the supposed permanence of blogs. So while the digital age is great for convenience and scope, creating a physical recording is really the more reliable way to make sure something exists for more than five to ten years, or however long it takes for the newest technological fad to become obsolete. Vinyl seems to be the longest lasting format, so it's my preferred medium. But if my music exists on tape or CD, that's fine too. 

Do you approach your recording and production processes with specific formats like vinyl in mind? If so, what do you do differently? Absolutely. The main concern is that we're dealing with the time constraints of vinyl. For bands like Russian Circles and SUMAC who have really long songs, it means we have to be careful how we sequence our records because we can easily exceed the 22-minutes-per-side rule. We've also been told by pressing plants that it's better to have long drones in the middle of an album side than at the beginning or end because there tends to be more surface noise at the beginning of a side and more warble at the end, and drones don't do much to mask these imperfections. But while one can complain about the limitations of vinyl, there are also issues with digital formats that can alter the way an album is put together. For example, the digital version of Empros has a longer drone at the end of "Batu" than the LP version, partially because of vinyl's limitations, but also because digital outlets like iTunes don't recognize records with long songs as full albums unless at least one track is longer than ten minutes. So we stretched it out on the digital version so that we'd be compensated appropriately for our work, but condensed it on vinyl so that we didn't compromise the sound quality.

Of all of the albums you've contributed to, which one stands out to you as the one you feel most connected to?

Probably Geneva by Russian Circles, if I had to pick one. We wrote that record over the span of several months at a house in rural Wisconsin. It was one of those ideal scenarios I'd always dreamed of---hunkering down in some isolated retreat and just immersing ourselves in the writing process. I've never walked away from an album feeling as accomplished as I did with that one. It just felt like we'd achieved something that had previously been out of my level of expertise. I think we've made better records since then, but I don't think I've ever felt as successful in making the sounds in my head translate to the recording. With regards to my other bands, I feel that way about Botch's We Are The Romans, These Arms Are Snakes' Easter, Roy's Killed John Train, and SUMAC's What One Becomes. But Geneva will always hold a special place.

How did you get into vinyl collecting and how does it play a part in your life?

I started buying vinyl around '92 because it was cheap. My first LP was Shadowy Men on a Shadowy Planet's Savvy Show Stoppers. I bought it for $2. Then I discovered 7"s, which was the dominant format for hardcore and punk bands at the time. Throughout high school, I mainly bought 7"s because i could buy 3 or 4 a week on my allowance. And let's be honest... most hardcore bands in the '90s had better 7"s than full albums. But vinyl was so dead at the time that you could also go to thrift stores and scoop up the entire Creedence Clearwater Revival discography for the cost of one CD. Even new vinyl was cheaper than their CD counterpart back then. So it's a bit of a drag now considering that vinyl is currently the most expensive format, but I still get a thrill from going to record stores, digging through crates, and coming home with a new LP. I can't say I buy that many 7"s anymore though.

What do you think about the relatively recent resurgence of large-scale vinyl production and collection?

It certainly has its advantages and disadvantages. I buy a lot of reissues just so I can have a clean, good-sounding copy, so I appreciate the resurgence in that regard. At the same time, the vinyl boom has made used record shopping a bit more of a drag. I don't know how many copies of Neil Young's Harvest I saw in used bins throughout the '90s and '00s, and then when I finally decided to buy a copy five years ago, it seemed like they'd all been snagged and the reissue was going for $50. When the Zeppelin discography got reissued a few years back, I mentioned wanting a new copy of Physical Graffiti to my husband. He went to our local indie record store in Brooklyn and asked the owner if they carried it and he totally balked at the question. "Why would we carry a reissue when you can buy a used copy of that in any record store for $5?" he said. My husband was like "every used Zeppelin record you carry is beat to shit and goes for at least $20... what the fuck are you even talking about?"

If you had to pare down your entire collection to no more than three albums, which would you keep?

What's the broader context? Like, are those the only three records I can listen to for the rest of my life? Or is it just a matter of only being allowed to own three records? If it's the former, I'd probably choose Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks, Miles Davis' In a Silent Way, and a Can album... either Ege Bamyasi or Soon Over Babaluma. Ask me tomorrow and I'd probably list off a different three. If it's the latter... like, if i'm merely holding onto records because the actual artifact means a lot to me but I can still listen to music in some other capacity, then I'd probably go with the His Hero Is Gone / Union of Uranus split LP, Undertow's At Both Ends, and Sticks & Stones Theme Songs For Nothing, just because those seem like a pain in the ass to replace and they're important records to me. I have records that are worth way more money, but I'm not someone who buys records because they're valuable. 

Do you have a "white whale" record you still haven't found?

Not really. For ages I resisted the urge to buy used records online, but I've since relented. The record that finally broke my ordering embargo was Hack's The Rotten World Around Us. They were a band from Adelaide, South Australia in the late '80/ early '90s who sounded like a grungier version of the first couple Swans records. Super heavy and scary. I got turned onto them through a 7" on Alternative Tentacles, but the LP was never available stateside. The first few times I toured Australia i went to every record store I could find in hopes of finding a copy. No one had ever heard of Hack. The singer was in another band called Grong Grong, and members of that band had gone on to be in King Snake Roost, Lubricated Goat, and Tumor Circus (with Jello Biafra on vocals), but no one had heard of them either. In my mind there was this rich underground of Australian noise rock from that time period that was still vital and valid, but the reality is that it was largely ignored and forgotten. I eventually found a copy online and bought it for $20. A year later i found a used copy in Boise. Oh well. I'd love to find Acme's To Reduce The Choir..., or an original copy of Popol Vuh's second album, or the Neu! 7", or the Greenlandic prog band Sume's Sumut album.

Hypothetically how much money would I need to raise to get These Arms Are Snakes to reunite to play my wedding reception? My family will hate it but my partner and I will be very happy, etc.

We still talk about doing some proper "farewell shows" since we bailed on doing them back in 2009/2010. Granted, now they'd be reunion shows, but in our hearts they'd be our proper goodbye. We're putting together a vinyl release of various odds and ends for next year, so maybe that'll give us an excuse to finally book something.

[numinousnic]

THE BONNY SHIP THE PEQUOD a sea shanty mix inspired by herman melville’s moby-dick

i. cape cod girls storm weather shanty choir // ii. spanish ladies jerry bryant and starboard mess // iii. the bonny ship the diamond todd menton // iv. blood red roses storm weather shanty choir // v. blow ye winds the kingston trio // vi. the greenland whale fishery a.l. lloyd // vii. old maui the dreadnoughts // viii. go to sea no more kimber’s men // ix. leave her johnny leave her fishermen’s friends // x. don’t forget your old shipmate jerry bryant and starboard mess

S P O T I F Y  |  8 T R A C K S C O V E R  A R T

[myinnerscarlett]

The World and all its Charms

Charm is a lost art. Charm is what we expect when we come to a city called the Hostess City of Savannah. Take my word for it, as my husband and I officially became super-hosts...independent of any agency. For whatever it’s worth, we have been through our share of less than charming agencies that boast they are doing great. They let less than desirable people into our property and, when we pointed out their transgressions, acted like it was our fault. Not our fault people abuse property and safety of inhabitants. That’s not what I’d call a Lucky charm. Put that in your next ad campaign. And we also don’t put up with neighboring agencies who wreak havoc in the townhomes surrounding us - no matter which agency they employ - eye opening to some who found out through us just how bad it’s getting. Because we are about true hospitality for both guests and neighbors. Some people never learn. I’m grateful for those who do. The city putting its foot down is a step in the right direction. That’s the Hostess City I’m talking about. I’m preaching to the choir for those who also live in highly touristic Airbnb towns. It’s all about balance & talk about an act... On that note, the opposite of a mark of hospitality, a book reviewer should never have to be described by a reviewed writer as one who “incorrectly states some facts and omits others.” Letter to the Editor, April/May 2019. As curious or foreign as that approach is to me (because I’d call it rude), it’s always interesting to see how folks change their tune when confronted with their own failings. Much like the vacation rental agencies in Savannah, and doubtless/countless other places... One minute it’s all about I stand by my opinions or (as last year’s reviewed writer put it) “way w-aaay off” appraisal, now it’s - to put it in the proverbial nutshell - who cares. That letter to the editor appeared in June 2018. If you write about it, you care about it. Period. I see a trend. It’s either a marketing ploy on the part of the editor to make sure The Bulletin stays a battleground, for the sake of interest, or just a game, as Mensans are fond of games.  If it was a publication for sale, controversy might help up it. However, The Mensa Bulletin is a “free” magazine that comes with membership. To put it into perspective, it’s the only freebie we mensans get, the readership is getting much older and its book reviewer is unpaid. I skim the issues infrequently and no longer use the resource as a means to get my work to a greater audience. Works I have had reviewed come out as good as my husband and I have as super-hosts. As for readability, there are far more important news outlets and infinitely more important news circulating. I agree with the WSJ article that described Mensa as more of a party club than intellectual meeting of minds (should be both) and anyone who says differently, fine, who cares, right? “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” Quote from Hamlet by William Shakespeare (Denmark, anyone?) I’ll get back to that later. Let’s take the high road. Let the others wallow in the mud. Super-hosts, remember? Speaking of which, so much mud...so little time. In March of 2003, Vanity Fair published a piece called “The Talented Mr. Epstein.” It looked at his lavish lifestyle and questioned the origin of his vast fortune upon which it was based. Questionable is the operative word here. What it failed to do - and failing others is the topic - is report on the team of Jeffrey Epstein and gal pal procurer “I’m innocent to a witch” Ghislaine Maxwell. Crucible references are so apropos here. The Farmers’ accusations are among so many women’s accusations made public lately. They recounted theirs on the record long ago, but that part didn’t make the cut. Another example of bad editing. In their own words: “We decided to share our story about Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell with a writer for Vanity Fair in 2002 because telling other people what happened to us, as we had already done, did not lead to either of them being held accountable.” Accountability for one’s actions. Another mainstay of so-called professional agencies. They hoped the story would put people on alert so as to avoid other girls falling prey to their abuse. The article that ran essentially, in their own words, “erased our voices.” Among the tools of intimidation, it’s alleged,  were Epstein’s coterie of intimidating lawyers; a five figure donation to a New York Time’s reporter’s favorite non-profit; a bullet delivering a message; and - get this - a deployment of charm? What was that, surely not the alleged severed cat’s head left on the front lawn of the editor-in-chief? The world and all its charms. Charm should not be equated with buying people off. After all, we don’t live in Denmark’s autonomous region of Greenland. But it is called The Kingdom of Denmark and the King of Denmark figures into Hamlet. And our very own “King of Israel, Chosen One and Second Coming of God” tRump wanted to buy it (or if that didn’t work out, maybe trade it for Puerto Rico). Why some are asking Congress to invoke the 25th amendment, I’ll never know. Ah, sarcasm, but then what else are fools for? There’s The Crucible again. The New York Daily News has had a field day - and rightly so - with the depiction of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper turned The Last Whopper, with tRump front and center, but surrounded by cronies: VP Pence, HUD Sec Ben Carson, Education Sec Betsy DeVos, First “Lady” Melanie (done on purpose) daughter Ivanka and his boy Elroy, I mean son-in-law Jared Kushner. Meet the Jetsons, right. These people are not just other worldly...they are lost in space. As for Bernie’s thoughts on Israel taking tRump’s cues on not allowing members of Congress to visit there...even if - in the one case - Netanyahu flipped (bc of Tlaib’s grandmother)...not so fast. Banning members of Congress should come at a price - to the tune of billions in military aid. Playing fair sometimes means playing hardball. That occurs even when one is as hospitable as a super-host. Or good old Bernie Sanders. That’s an expression, not a judgment. No age discrimination, please. Some of us are not just super-hosts, we are super-agers, like Bernie and the list of candidates in the presidential line-up. For quality people everywhere, no matter what your demographic, I got one question for you... Can you spell “Misogynist,” “Xenophobe,” and “Narcissist,” because I know I can. How about let’s define charm and actually not just use it but insist on others behaving in the same way. At the end of the day, don’t ever let the narcissists or their distractions get in the way.

That’s the story of...that’s the glory of love.

 The narcissists are running our country now. You need to understand what this means. Read and share this book today! 

[yanxi]

tagged by @hnrychvng thank u uwu

rules– answer 21 questions and then tag 21 people who you want to get to know better

nickname(s): sut

zodiac sign: cancer

height: 167 

last movie I saw: aquaman

last thing I googled: spoilertv b99

favourite musician: ,,,,,,, taylor swift

song stuck in my head: epilogue from la la land

other blogs: @peregrvn @haviliard @slotthhh

following: 517

followers: 565

do I get asks: i mean when i reblog ask games then ya

amount of sleep: 6 hours on weekdays and 10 on weekends

lucky numbers: i like the number 6 but wouldn't consider it my lucky number 

what I’m wearing: a pink sweatshirt and santa sweatpants (they're pajamas)

dream job: changes once in a while, currently environment scientist 

dream trip: maldives or alaska or greenland

favourite food: Moist™ brownies

instruments played: violin, horn, KAZOO, choir? (i used to play the trumpet)

languages: english, chinese/cantonese, currently learning french

favorite songs: 

- clair de lune by debussy

- estrellita by manuel ponce (i think)

- burn & who lives who dies from hamilton

- for good & as long as you're mine from wicked

- steal my girl & infinity by one direction

- fifteen & speak now by taylor swift

- the b99 theme

- the winner takes it all by abba

random fact: literally has 2 friends irl but like ,,, i'm not willing to reach out LMAO it's becoming a problem

aesthetic: plain coloured tops, always moving around, buns tied in every way, tapping my feet or fingers to rhythm of music, self care days, always wanting to know more, reminding people i appreciate their existence

tagging: @mariamuses @adriata @terrasn @kazrietvield @herondaleswilliam @rainstorms2004 @isildur @highladyoftomes @mooonbeam @nephelle-warrior-scribe @christina-dh (skskks that's 11)

[loveydoveykirk]

Rules: Put your whole music library on shuffle and share the first 10 songs that come up. Then tag 10 people (or as many as you want).

im just doin my spotify liked playlist but i haven’t rly updated in a while so laskjdf

sofia by alvaro soler

greenland whale fishery by the celtic connection

Котик by alexander rybak

nina cried power by hozier ft mavis staples

dont fence me in by roy rogers

raise hell by dorothy

idea of you by port cities

ring down below by storm weather shanty choir

hungry like the wolf by duran duran

we are golden by mika

tagged by @spacefaringsapphic

tagging @birogues @firebtch @poisonedisleys @weirdgirl-14 @sunflowersnips @feywild-nonbinary @radicata @fluxbuddy and anyone else who wants to do it lksjdf

[officialiwrotethisforyou]

Songs to the Green Land

Songs to the Green Land

With Iain busy being fecund (and South Africa being quite the trip for a Friday night out in Northern Europe) it my time for me debut as the public face of IWTFY!

Last Friday i took the train to Copenhagen to attend a performance of Songs to the Green Land. A piece by Jakob Buchanan & Helga Norbakken, performed by the Aahus Jazz Orchestra and a Greenlandic Choir.

This isn’t the first time that…

[edwardian-sea-witch]

Candelabra, Whispers, Armoire in the Attic, Peeling Wallpaper

Thanks for the ask!!

Candelabra: Are you afraid of the dark? If not, what are you afraid of?

While I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of the dark, I will absolutely always do the “get upstairs before the monsters get me” run when I’m the last one to turn off the lights at home. My biggest fear is much more abstract: getting hurt or seeing someone else get hurt by something I couldn’t control or prevent. 

Whispers: Tell a secret.

My parents got me evaluated for AD(H)D in fourth grade because I wasn’t doing any homework and kept telling them I forgot about it when in reality I was spending every afternoon playing on Moshi Monsters, fully aware of the work I wasn’t doing but simply utterly uninterested i completing it.

Armoire in the Attic: Have you ever hidden anything away? What and why?

I have a little box of “treasures” I keep under my bed at home (it has actual valuables so I decided not to bring it to college.) It started out as a collection of random, meaningless junk that I thought was pretty, because I liked the idea of having secret things hidden away and that merely the action of keeping it concealed would somehow imbue the items with deep personal significance and/or magical properties. Now it’s full of penpal letters and mementos from past shows and my choir/valedictorian medals, plus some jewelry from my grandmothers. 

Peeling Wallpaper: Write about a memory.

The summer I was 15, my family spent three days in Iceland. I was freshly out of the grips of my Frozen obsession and a shameless fangirl for all things remotely Scandinavian. Naturally, a trip to the land of vikings, yule lads, and elf stones meant that I was so hyped up that I didn’t sleep a wink on the flight over (too busy searching the night ocean below for faint traces of the Greenland coast). I should have been a red-eyed zombie by the time we touched down at 4 AM, but the thin, cloudy sunlight, combined with the Keflavik airport’s general look of an IKEA on steroids, gave me just enough energy that I spent that first morning in a dreamlike state. Even in July it was 55 degrees Fahrenheit, and the mossy, treeless landscape stretched until the very distant base of the mountains. As the shuttle bus departed for the hour-long drive to Reykjavik, I looked back and saw a sculpture rising from the parking lot: the base of a rainbow, shattered before it could begin to ark, with suspended shards tinting the world beyond in brilliant shades. It was like waking up in a new world of fairytales and gods.

[shimyereh]

Somewhere over Greenland

Outside the window, those unending Fields of softly-textured white Drift on to the horizon, blending With the hazy evening light. Mounds, ripples, heaps, and downy billows That all look softer than the pillows On my chair. Beneath a break, I think I see a frozen lake — Or maybe just a trick of lighting? The moon, a tiny pearl, a ball, Floats small and lost above it all. I can’t sleep, so I sit up writing. I look out at the world below, And can’t quite tell what’s cloud, what’s snow.

Part 2 in a short cycle of poems about things I saw during our choir’s Europe tour. I’m also posting them here on AO3.

[ohmygillygoshoppler]

its 1 in the morning and i have failed myself yet again.....

Melodious tunes of classical music filled the cold halls of the dark observatory. Even through the thickness of the walls, and the drone of the record player, Azreal could hear the blizzard going on outside. The howling of the winds, perhaps already moving in at about thirty miles per hour. They would pick up, Azreal assumed, once the true storm welled in, but that might not be for a while now.

Azreal sat comfortably in his cozy little geo-dome, his sleeping quarters within the observatory out in the Delta. He sat by lamplight, reading, as per the usual. It was constantly nighttime here, so that meant there may have been a few inactive people. He and Ishtar had been hard at work collecting data regarding sediments and toxins coming in from outer space. It was a complete parallel to what the archangel had been doing before, but it was away from the cities.

He remembered when he returned home, back to heaven. He remembered the hateful glances and venomous words of his brethren. Word traveled fast in Heaven, and they eventually found out what he did.

They shunned him, alienated him, and after a while, the Heavenly Host officially banished him from Heaven altogether. He was stripped of his graces, clipped of his magnificent wings, and banned from entering the Well of Souls. He was nearly stripped of his memories of how to access the Well and use its power, but The Phoenix commanded otherwise.

"You will wander the universe, Azreal. From now on, and as punishment for your crimes of treason, you are no longer an angel. You are something else. Make something of yourself. You have one hundred years."

And so, he Queen of Rurus was merciful enough to let him stay with them when she heard news of his banishment, but Azreal wanted nothing to do with humanity. He was horrified by the idea of him harming them in any way again.

The Queen would not take no as an answer. She wanted to keep an eye on him, and she made that fact clear. She wanted Azreal to stay and help her group of hand-selected scientists in an arctic research facility erected on Rurus' south pole to help discover and learn about their new planet and what they can do to protect it. He would have a chance to redeem himself by helping the others to learn more, something the scholar was more than familiar with.

Azreal was no scientist, but he accepted the offer. Now, several years later, he was still there, cooped up with a bunch of former strangers on a huge block of ice in the middle of nowhere. A wanderer indeed. Never had the archangel thought he would end up in a place such as this one; so close to paradise, yet so bitterly trapped within walls of ice.

At least these folks didn't want him dead.

The angel sipped his tea and reclined back in his chair. He continued to read his book, an old collection of heavenly myths he'd taken from his spire. One of the few things of Heaven he had left. He jumped with a start when the music suddenly died, and the lights went black.

The angel closed his eyes and promptly placed his marker into his book-

"Aaaazreaaaal-" A choir of voices called from out in the halls. "It's your turn to restart the generator."

"-Right on cue."

The book snapped shut and Azreal stretched, rocking back on his heels. He was still getting used the the lightweight sensation his missing wings gave his body. He reached his arms up as high as they could go and scratched the back of his neck. He shivered at the sudden chill that raced under his skin. Perhaps it was so cold because there were no internal doors within the facility, only long, narrow hallways.

He would have dreaded going outside before, but this place was exciting. The skies were different, and there was always something incredible to see. He loved the fact that this planet had a such a pristine and clear atmosphere that they could see the eye of their universe from their spot in the solar system. Azreal had seen that sight many times from some spots in Heaven, but never in this light. This planet escaped the confines of day; the noon-bright eternity most were subjected to on Heaven's planet, mostly in areas like the White City, Kino, and Jordan.

He had with him twelve other companions; nine infernals, and three humans. There were six demons, a sprite, an akuma, and a hulking legion demon; Shobba, Owasso, Nim, V'Dalia, Chimera, Ishtar, Havalar, Eno, and Joswick. The humans were two young ladies and a younger man; Jen-Yie, Cynthia, and Finn. His closets colleagues were Finn, Ishtar and Havalar; the people with whom he shared a great deal of interests with. Those two were arguably the most intelligent people he'd met on this planet thus far. Not to say the rest of his team wasn't intelligent, these people were hand picked by the Queen herself to be here! To collect data and make the important discoveries about their home like mankind used to.

Jen-Yie was a biologist and an aspiring physicist, Cynthia was a veteran topographer who formerly worked as a researcher who explored places such as Canada, Greenland, Scandinavia, and Russia before the end. Finn was a chemist, and a handy tinkerer to boot. Azreal admired him, seeing much of his younger self in the young lad. The angel admired Finn's tender and articulate nature, a stark contrast to the brash and adventurous personalities of his human peers.

Ishtar was a radiologist, helping the team study chemical and radioactive phenomenon that they've discovered around the Delta with Havalar, the one who navigates. Havalar had a keen obsession with spelunking through the ice caves all around their base. They were the person to go to of there was something underground that was to be found.

A great deal of the other demons were simple biologists as well, eager to explore the microbe rich environment of the bitter south pole. They've told Azreal about how there were lifeforms living in these frigid waters that could be surviving on the surface, laying dormant until the conditions are just right for them to spring back to life, or surviving thousands of feet below the icy water's surface below them.

Some creatures insides act as antifreeze to keep them alive in the cold dark depths. When the team made that discovery a few years back, it was like a world-changing

Creatures unknown to the universe yet, unknown to science, swim in this world's southernmost ocean, and, well, that was pretty neat when the angel thought about it.

Azreal admitted on several occasions that he would be more than satisfied if he were stuck with them for the rest of his time permitted.

[tulunnguaq]

Juullileqaaq – It’s Christmas soon!

Since we are in Advent time I thought I’d create something seasonal, with a little Christmas carol - “Juullimi Qiimasuttut”. You can hear it sung beautifully as a solo here:

or by a choir here:

The tune is clearly familiar to English listeners as “Silent Night”, but the content is quite different, and is loosely based on the words to Danish carol “Glade Jul, Dejlige Jul”, also sung to the same tune. 

Here are the full lyrics:

Juullimi qiimasuttut inngilit qilammiut paratiisimit aggiapput taarmut pillutik appipput massa saqqummernatik   Juullerput qiimaffigaat Tussiartoqartarmat ikku inngilit paarsisunut tussiarlutik takkuttut tussiartarput suli   Juullerput qiimanarli maani immat Jiisusi taanna pillugu tussiarput inngilit nuannaaqisut tussiutaat pilarput   Juullimi eqqissilit tussiarput inngilit nersutaatit inaanni ittoq eqqississutissaalersoq qaa nuannaarutiguuk!

  Vocabulary

juullimi – at Christmas, from juulli – Christmas (Yule) + -mi in (locative case). Also in the title of this post with -ler- be about to and -qaaq very, intensifer, 3p singular

qiimasuttut – like those who are joyful, from qiima- be happy + -soq/-sut nominative mood + -tut like, as (equative case)

inngilit – angels, loan word from Danish engel

qilammiut – also means angels, but is a native Greenlandic term meaning literally those who live in heaven from qilak heaven, paradise + -miu occupant of + -t plural marker

paratiisimit – from paradise, from paratiisi  paradise + -mit from (ablative case)

aggiapput – they meet up in great numbers, they swarm from aggia- flock, swarm

taarmut – to the darkness, from taaq  dark + -mut to (allative case)

pillutik – about them (concerning them), formed from pi- to deal with, to be about + -llutik 3p plural, contemporative mood, intransitive form

appipput – they burst into song

massa - now

saqqummernatik – without appearing (literally, while they are not appearing) from saqqummer- appear and -natik negative form of -lutik above.

juullerput – our Christmas

qiimaffigaat – they are joyful about it from qimaa- be happy + -ffigi- have something as a place/time of [verb] with 3p plural subject, singular object

tussiartoqartarmat – when psalms are sung from tussiar- sing psalms + -toq nominal mood, 3p singular + -qar- exist + -tar- regular action + -mat causative mood, 3p singular, literally “when there regularly is someone singing psalms”

tussiar- also appears in this carol in tussiarlutik while they are singing, tussiartarput they (regularly) sing, tussiarput they sing, tussiutaat their psalms from tussiut psalm + -at their (singular or plural object)

ikku – those ones

paarsisunut – to the shepherds, paarsisoq – someone who tends for someone/something

takkuttut – who (plural) came into sight

suli – still, yet. In this context, perhaps meaning for ever.

qiimanarli – let it (be such as to) make people joyous  from qiima- be happy + -nar- be such as to + -li optative mood, 3p singular. Note that -li here does not mean but, as often seen; rather it is the marker of the relatively little used optative mood (in Danish ønskemåde or “wish mode”), with the meaning “let…”. As seen below, the optative mood is used a few times in this song.

maani - here

immat – when he is, causative mood form of copula verb ippoq to be

Jiisusi - Jesus

taanna – this one

pillugu – about him/it, concerning him/it

nuannaaqisut – who are very glad

pilarput – let us say it, optative mood, 1p plural subject, 3p singular object

eqqissilit – let you be in peace, from eqqissi- be in peace, optative mood, 2p singular

nersutaatit – creatures (here, in relative case, being governed by inaanni described below)

inaanni – within them from ini- inside + -at their + -ni in

ittoq – being (nominal mood form of ippoq, referred to above)

eqqississutissaalersoq – which soon will be something that brings peace from eqqissi- be in peace + –ssut cause of + -ssa- future thing + -u- be (here appearing as -a-) + -ler- be about to + -soq nominal mood, 3p singular

qaa – come! A special imperative form without a full verb conjugation. Plural form is qaagit.

nuannaarutiguuk – be joyful about him! From nuannarutigi- be happy about [something], 2p imperative mood, singular 3p object.

Translation

I’ve given an attempted translation below, but I’m not completely sure about some of it:

Juullimi qiimasuttut inngilit qilammiut paratiisimit aggiapput taarmut pillutik appipput massa saqqummernatik   Like those who are joyous at Christmas time the angels in heaven flock down from paradise to the darkness (i.e. in hiding) and burst into song (but) without now appearing to us (i.e. secretly)   Juullerput qiimaffigaat Tussiartoqartarmat ikku inngilit paarsisunut tussiarlutik takkuttut tussiartarput suli   They are joyful about our Christmas time when psalms are sung those angels who appeared singing to the shepherds they sing for ever   Juullerput qiimanarli maani immat Jiisusi taanna pillugu tussiarput inngilit nuannaaqisut tussiutaat pilarput   Let our Christmas bring joy when Jesus is here the angels in exultation sing about him let us say their psalms   Juullimi eqqissilit tussiarput inngilit nersutaatit inaanni ittoq eqqississutissaalersoq qaa nuannaarutiguuk!   Be in peace at Christmas sing the angels He will soon bring peace to (all) creatures (great and small) Come and rejoice in him!  

I hope you all enjoyed that, and here’s wishing all my followers a very Happy Christmas - Juullimi pilluaritsi!

---

Picture extracted from Qaagit by Birgitte Hertling. You’ll may have spotted my avatar at the far right!

[alyxeris]

10 songs you’re obsessed with right now and then tag 10 people. 

tagged by @shadesoforlando​.

ticker tape by gorillaz.

depression by the homeless gospel choir.

there will be no divorce by the mountain goats.

unearthing your grave by the oxymorons!

don’t know by the homeless gospel choir.

dear old greenland by andrew bird.

celebrate by dark dark dark.

house of leaves (me alone) by dollar signs.

going home again by this way to the egress.

french lessons by future of the left.

kind of an eclectic mix of genres but a lot of sad sack shit. anyway, tagging @saintapathis, @salparadisewasright, and @ufosongs.