#I am transported back in time to 2002
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
New LACUNA COIL Album To Arrive Before End Of 2024
In a recent interview with Brazil's Sonoridades Inc., singer Cristina Scabbia of Italian goth metal veterans LACUNA COIL spoke about the progress of the writing and recording sessions for the band's follow-up to 2019's "Black Anima" album. She said (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET): "I can't really tell you a lot. I can tell you that we are progressing very fast. We are almost, like, 100… We completed, let's say, the demoing. We still have to record the rest of the songs, but we will soon — probably after the tour, after the [May 2024] North American tour. And if everything goes as projected, before the end of the year [it] will be released. And that's already a big news, because we always say, 'We don't know. Maybe.' … I absolutely love the songs. I'm part of the process. But I'm very pleased."
Asked if LACUNA COIL's 2023 single "Never Dawn", for which the band partnered with CMON, the renowned board game publisher behind the popular game "Zombicide", will be on the upcoming album, Cristina said: "I think it will be. I think it will be, 'cause it will make sense. And it also fits with the other songs — it really fits with the other songs. Many heavy songs."
LACUNA COIL has just completed the "Ignite The Fire" U.S. tour with support from NEW YEARS DAY and OCEANS OF SLUMBER.
Last month, LACUNA COIL released another new single, "In The Mean Time", featuring Ash Costello of NEW YEARS DAY. The song's title is a reference to the mean times the world is living in, as well as a reference to the state the band itself is in, between cycles.
When "In The Mean Time" was first made available, LACUNA COIL said in a statement: "'In The Mean Time' is a reflection on how much our society has generally 'lost the plot'. We are living in really mean times filled with unhappy people: lonely, anxious, depressed, destructive. The pressure that crushes from the outside doesn't allow us to see things with the right clarity.
"This song is like group therapy: not a lamentation, but acceptance that once broken, it's hard to put oneself back together again.
"We need to take our minds off all the inescapable toxicity and find that there's so much more to this life… and know that in the meantime, everything cannot be aligned.
"We invited Ash Costello from NEW YEARS DAY to feature on the track and we're thrilled she came on board adding exactly what we needed for this song with her warm voice and charisma."
Costello said: "I am deeply honored to join LACUNA COIL on tour for the first time, to have the incredible opportunity to lend my guest vocals to a new track and appear in the music video. Working alongside the powerhouse vocalist Cristina has been a privilege, and I may be biased in saying that 'In The Mean Time' has quickly become my favorite by LACUNA COIL. Its message about embracing individuality and not conforming deeply resonates with me."
Last July, LACUNA COIL released the official lyric video for "Never Dawn".
LACUNA COIL has spent some of the last couple of years promoting "Comalies XX", the "deconstructed" and "transported" version of the band's third album, "Comalies".
"Comalies XX" was made available on October 14, 2022 via Century Media Records.
LACUNA COIL celebrated the 20th anniversary of "Comalies", by performing it in its entirety at a one-night-only concert on October 15, 2022 at Fabrique in Milano.
"Comalies" was originally released on October 29, 2002 through Century Media Records. The LP, which featured the band's breakthrough single "Heaven's A Lie", has reportedly gone on to sell over 300,000 copies in the United States alone.
Photo credit: Patric Ullaeus
youtube
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
EMERGENCY POST!
Hey guys. I’ve been trying to keep people informed with what’s going on. Instead of doing it over with each group I'm going to make an announcement. Full saga. All the information.
The 2002 Honda Civic Absolute Disaster.
Yesterday, my car decided to overheat and shit itself. In the middle of my 700 mile move to Detroit with my gf and an hour away from our planned hotel stop. I don't know much about cars! Apparently I should have stopped when I saw the engine meter staying over the H line on the thermostat.
I did not, because I didn't want to break down on the side of the road. Instead we broke down very conveniently in the lot of an AutoZone type car shop. What might have been a small issue to fix, however, is now fucking huge.
My car won't start. My engine is likely totaled. There's probably an issue with the thermostat or water pump or radiator one, then the head gasket got cracked so water is leaking into the car's surrounding pipes, to the best of what I could gather. I am not a car person.
We've called around, no one nearby has any openings for repairs for at least a week. The closest place is 60 miles away. AAA won't cover towing that far, and would charge me $7+tax for every mile. We managed to find someone else who'd take it for $250, luckily.
He thought he might be able to fix the car by Saturday, but all together the cost would be $2.8k ish. Including the tow.
That's not including the money I already had to pay for the last few mechanic visits that we thought fixed everything over the past few months. Which was already way too much. So now that's all down the drain too.
There's now another devolvement about that as seen in the texts. Basically, the type of engine was different than believed. Making it a lot more expensive and time extensive to fix. We have neither money or time for that. So, stuck in the middle of Kentucky countryside, we're having to get rid of our car.
After conversation with family and friends and advice we're going to focus on getting to Detroit and trying to get a car there. I still have to make another trip back in a few months to get the rest of my stuff and the overheating has done so much damage we probably will have to pay even more than just what's already been discussed wrong with it anyway. Luckily we'll be able to sell it to the mechanic for about....$300.
To put this into perspective on how bad that is for me, I currently only make about $1,200 a month.
We have a way out and up to Detroit, thankfully. But even without the car costs of fixing it we're going to be out a three nights in the hotel plus the towing, which is about $600 all totalled and we still need to get transportation once in Detroit. Not to mention rent and groceries and other moving things. We also still have like. Zero furniture at the apartment.
I'll keep everyone updated as things continue. It was suggested I make a donation post with all the information. So here's my Google pay, PayPal, Cash app, and Venmo.
We've gotten some help so far from my family and some friends but anything would be amazing to put towards a car and necessities fund. I'm going to have absolutely no transportation at a time where getting places is going to be super important. So I'm putting it out there.
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
[what am i]
Mutant
It is 2004. Is the Geiger Counter heavy because it’s Old Tech, or because it’s a Geiger Counter? I do not ask the question aloud. My father is talking. I rotate it in my hands, examining it. He is talking about his father. The Geiger counter is a relic of my grandfather’s military service. It is older than me. It is older than my school. It is older than my father. I turn it on. A red light glows. The dial fidgets. “Are we safe?” I ask aloud, as it softly, slowly ticks. “Are we ever?” My father answers. My look of horror is met with laughter.
It is 1999. There is a photo of a mushroom cloud rising out of a deep blue ocean. It sits inconspicuously in a wooden frame near my grandfathers chair. I stare at it. I have recently learned about atomic weapons in an abstract sort of way in school. My grandmother speaks. “Your grandfather took that picture.”
It is 2002. “These are some of my favorite books.” My father believes I am old enough for his old novels. The entire John Carter of Mars. Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke. Foundation & Empire. Edgar Rice Burroughs. Tarzan.
It is 1971. My father hunts wild pigs. Dogs he has raised from puppies explicitly for this purpose rustle through the jungle ahead of him. He is like the pigs, the descendants of Europeans on tour, left behind by boats bearing death. He is armed only with a large knife and his dogs. He survives.
It is 1955. My father plays with the Geiger counter that I will hold in my hands one day. It is humid and hot inside the Quonset hut. My father points it at my grandfather. The dial dances; the machine goes tickticktick. My grandmother is sleeping, or trying to; migraines take her out for days at a time, sharp pain and vivid halos exacerbated by the tropical sun. The noise wakes her, and my grandfather takes the Geiger counter away.
It is 2009. “Weird.” Not the sort of thing you want your doctor to say. “Has your heart always done that?” I ask him to explain what he means. “Oh, it’s just, it’s… beating… funny?” He indicates some squiggles on a monitor, as if I could see the patterns as he did. “Do you mind if we run some tests?” I would be a fool to decline.
It is 1977. My father watches the stars. The sea is still. He has turned off the lights on his boat, and the nearest artificial light is over the horizon. He eats fish he caught during the day. He comes to land to get the supplies he cannot catch; tools made of metal; rope, line, medicine. He spends seven years on that boat, going from island to island. He survives.
It is 2019. My father puts dilute hydrogen peroxide in his water bottle. We dress and depart. He hike through the craggy desert highlands, rich browns and ambers of the desert varnish broken by the occasional brilliance of a tarantula hawk. The local wildlife is smart enough to seek shelter at this time of day, but we are Sons of Empire and ignore the sun, like Adam turning his back on God. We traipse over broken boulders, fighting gravity for a scenic view. He tells me about the past between breaths; this mountain was sacred, once. Those who sanctified it are dead now. The way he talks, you would think that he killed them himself. The breeze is hot and dry on the ridge top. Looking down on the valley below, he drinks deeply from the bottle. He offers me some. “Extra oxygen” he says, with the air of someone sharing valuable advice. Tentatively, I take a sip: It is slippery, and burns slightly. My 70 year old father climbs back down from the mountains with me. We pretend the desert sun does not exist.
It is 1946. The War is Over. The Good Guys have won; or so the story goes. My grandmother is newly married, and loves her husband very much. Once, she had been a daydreaming farm girl, a fan of the Wizard of Oz books; She feels like Dorothy, transported, when her husband’s work whisks them away from rural California to The Pacific. They��re working on something big, he says, but loose lips sink ships and he says nothing else.
It is 1949. The migraines are paralyzing. The doctor tells her she is pregnant, and her mind fades to static. This is the 5th time she has been told this in her life, but she has yet to give birth to a single living child. The Geiger counter ticktickticks whenever her husband is near.
It is 1950. My father is born.
Mutant
Survivor
Son of Empire
Human
#writing#journaling#Drabble#radioactive#colonialism#ancestry#troglodyte thoughts#druid life#mutant#survivor#sons of empire
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Triumphs and frustrations with a complex physical disability and a brain at nearly midlife… Searching for a champion to share and grow with
My Cerebral Palsy made life without diapers very traumatizing for me. From age 4–21, I was in underwear with bladder accidents from spasms at least once a week. Toilet training was a point of pride for my mom, even though most doctors and my preschool and elementary teachers told her not to focus on it. She thought I could outthink my body. Instead, having to plan my relief breaks around other people has given me kidney issues at 42 and that is after choosing to go back into diapers as a junior in college. Based on this experience, wearing diapers is healthier than waiting on people to help me to the bathroom. Also, as a guy who is 6 foot 4 and 170 pounds, toilet transfers several times a day are exhausting and potentially dangerous for me and my support people.
There is no correlation between incontinence and intelligence. Mom said she didn’t want me diapered after the typical age because she thought people would perceive me as being stupid…Well I have been wearing 24/7 for over 20 years including under my gown at my Ph.D graduation… 😘 … My advice to emerging adults with disabilities is that your ability to accomplish great things is a product motivation, not the undergarments you are wearing. In my observation and experience, the responsibility of motivation evolves throughout the developmental process. Initially, this responsibility lies with parents and other supports, to explore and educate themselves about success stories of adults with similar challenges, focusing on understanding the strategies that have led to positive outcomes. As youth with disabilities approach preadolescents (middle school), the responsibility gradually for exploration and experimentation gradually shifts from solely residing with the parental figure to a joint venture that increasingly becomes more driven by curiosity of the individual themselves. Today’s adolescent preteen and teenager is constantly engaged with personal technology and electronic media. The focus of at least some of this screen time can be given to meaningful discovery of not only strengths, interests, and abilities but also the possible strategies that can be used to bring abstract dreams into reality. As the time for high school approaches, a portion of this exploration time should be dedicated to experiential learning, this includes testing strategies that will allow the person with self-care challenges to participate in their community with minimal effects from their limitations. Some examples of considerations include exploring methods for community access through transportation, strategies for accessing nutrition while public and elimination (bladder/bowel) management.
My decision to use diapers full-time again with the occasional addition of male catheters, as I eluded to earlier, was the product of a New Year’s resolution in 2002. Ironically, I felt as if this was a means of asserting control over one aspect of my life. It was around the age of 25 that I began to realize that there were some unintended social consequences of my decision that I am still struggling to overcome. I have learned that midstream people are not very receptive to a guy in a wheelchair who needs fed and his diapers changed, but otherwise is completely cognitively intact, even bright with a sarcastic and very dry wit.
I had to learn to have fun with it along the way, finding companionship from people who will understand my needs and embrace my choices has been difficult. After some research, I discovered that there was a group of people who enjoyed doing the same things I needed and mostly by choice, the ABDL and medfet communities. Happiness for me will be finding a woman who considers the AB and medical needs as normal and has fun doing it. The lifestyle or fetish angle removes the awkwardness for both of us. It would be awesome to be in a crowded public place (i.e. restaurant, sporting event) and know that there is at least one other person there who is experiencing the same sensation I am feeling inside as well as from the diaper against my body and clothing. At last I will not feel alone in the world. There is also some intrigue and humor in the idea that only we know that each other is wearing. For those of you who prefer more crude or masculine visualization, as I used to say in one of my profiles on a certain ABDL dating site, a diaper nor wheelchair should not also be a chastity belt. Just because I must wear for medical reasons does not mean I am stupid or otherwise not worthy of sharing myself with someone. Sexual intimacy alone is rarely the basis for a solid long-term relationship, however human touch is essential for me. Having no inhibitions about giving or receiving a hug or cuddle is a must for me because I have been deprived of it so much because of misconceptions about body and mind. I am looking for a partner who understands my ambitions and is not afraid to explore their own. The ability to have someone who you can share your most intimate thoughts and feelings with even on the worst days would be a blessing for me. I hope to find someone who is willing to learn and grow together.
If you’re still smiling after reading this… DM me or comment below :-)
#incontinent#diaper dependent#adult diaper cerebral palsy#actually disabled#disabilities#ab dl lifestyle#actually incontenent#bed wetter#anxitey#autism#ab dl girl#disabled diaper#diapered girlfriend#ab dl diaper#medfet#incontinent girl#public diaper girl#ab/dl girl#abdlmommy#ab/dl community#ab/dl diaper#ab/dl relationship#cerebral palsy#spina bifida#developmental disabilities#adult diaper lover#disabled student#disabled diapering#ab/dl kink#ab/dl boy
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Age of the TMNT at the end of their series (theory)
One day while I was watching the 1987 TMNT episode where they travel to the future (Season 5 Episode 2) I noticed something. When Donatello is taking everyone back to the present he says “Next stop, the year 1991″ and this got me thinking. How old would the TMNT be at the end of their respective series? While I was thinking I remembered another detail; TMNT 2003′s season Fast Forward takes place 100 years into the future. In the intro you can see the year 2105 being used. That would mean the year where they got transported would be 2005. Quickly whipping out my calculator and final brain cell this is what I found.
(Quick disclaimer. I haven’t watched 87, 03, and 12 in a while/fully. I may miss in-universe timing details. I also have not fully seen the air dates. Information I will be missing is certain 87 seasons, Fast Forward, Back to the Sewers, part of Turtles Forever).
How old are the 1987 TMNT?
The wiki lists the turtles’ birth year as 1972. This would make them 15 at the start of the series. As stated above, Donatello states they are in the year 1991. This is 4 years after 1987. This would make the turtles 19 years old. TMNT 1987 ends in the year 1996 which is 5 years after 1991. 19 + 5 = 24. The turtles would be 24 years old at the end of their series.
TL;DR 1996 - 1972 = 24
How old are the 2003 TMNT?
The turtles are listed to be born in 1987, this would make them 16 at the start of the series. The 6th season, Fast Forward (FF), starts with the turtles and Splinter being transported 100 years into the future. The year is 2105 meaning the turtles would’ve been in the year 2005 before being transported. This would be 2 years after 2003 thus making them 18 at the time. The year TMNT 2003 completed its run was in the year 2009. A whole 4 years after FF. 18 + 4 = 22. The turtles would be 22 at the end of their series.
TL;DR 2009 - 1987 = 22
How old are the 2012 TMNT?
We all know the 2012 TMNT are 15, it was revealed to us in the first episode. What most of us don’t know is that their birth year/mutation year is 1997 (tmnt wiki). Their aging has been tricky as they are shown/implied to constantly be 15, which is bullshit in my opinion. So for this section, I say fuck canon and hello logic. The show ended its run in 2017, 5 years after 2012. 15 + 5 = 20. The turtles would 20 years old at the end of their series. Side note, this would make Raph a legal DILF. TL;DR 2017 - 1997 = 20
How old are the 2018 TMNT (aka Rise TMNT)
Now, there is not much to do especially since Rise is not over (please don’t let it be true) but I will do what I can. Raphael is 15 at the start of ROTTMNT, Leonardo and Donatello are 14, and Michelangelo is 13. According to the TMNT wiki, their birth years are 2003, 2004, and 2005. The Lair Games take place in 2019. This would make their ages 16, 15, and 14. The turtles are listed on the wiki to be 17, 16, and 15 in the movie. This would mean the Krang invasion would take place in 2020 (I am well aware this is not canon but if you want to have fun with the chaotic year known as 2020 then go ahead). There is not much I can say here as the timeline is messy due to cancellation and other details.
Bonus round!
April O’neil is said to be 28 in season 3 of TMNT 1987. Season 3 began airing in 1989. 2 years apart. 28 - 2 = 25. April is 25 at the start. This would also make her birth year 1962. 1996 - 1962 = 34. She is 34 at the end of the series.
The wiki states 2003 April to be 1980. 2003 - 1980 = 23. She is 23 at the start of the series. 2009 - 1980 = 29. She is 29 when the series ends.
2012 April’s birth year is 1996. She is one year older than the turtles making her 16. 2017 - 1996 = 21 OR 20 + 1 = 21. This would make her legally able to drink (she probably teases them about it too). Rise April birth year is 2002, making her 16. In “Warren & Hypno, Sitting in a Tree” she has her birthday and turns 17 years old. In the ROTTMNT movie she is 18.
What to do with this information?
You can use the information I gathered for fanfiction. You could write stories about them coming of age, becoming adults, and reflecting on their youth and how it was basically stripped from them. There are many things you can use with this information. However, I would advise against using these as a way to create NSFW or crush on them as it is speculation and I would rather not fight anons and other people rn. I cannot stop you but I will be upset if people start fighting me for my shower thought rambling.
Closing note
I hope you all enjoyed my mad rambling disguised as something professional. This is the only time I have gone out of my way to do maths and it was fun. I hope whoever comes across this can use it for some good angst. There is no need to credit me for any of this I just did it for fun and want people to have fun with this too. If anyone wants to reblog this to add on with in-universe details be my guest :> or if you want to include the comics and movies I would greatly appreciate that. Anyway, bye.
#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt#tmnt 1987#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2012#tmnt 2018#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#text bs
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Liminal Acoustic Ecologies
Liminal Acoustic Ecologies by Patrick Quinn
Liminal Acoustic Ecologies explores interior/exterior space (e.g., open windows and balconies) from two very different locations: Istanbul, Turkey and Chiang Mai, Thailand. I traveled to these locations this past winter for my honeymoon; first stopping in Thailand and then traveling on to Turkey the following week. One of my rituals while traveling is to record at the threshold of what is considered inside and outside space in the places I stay. These in-between spaces have a unique sonic character. They are sites where the sounds of domesticity intermingle with the sounds of the world beyond our walls. Walter Benjamin believed “[c]apital alienates the employer … from his means of production … culminat[ing] in the emergence of the private home.” 1 The private interior is a sanctuary, a “safe space” that keeps the ever-changing, exterior world “out.” In this private space he “assemble[s] the distant in space and in time” to “maintain him in his illusions.” 2
Indeed there are dwellings that are capable of keeping the sounds of the outside world at bay. However, in my experience in the mountains in Chiang Mai and the bustling metropolis of Istanbul, and certainly in New York City where I live, the sounds from outside are a part of the private interior soundscape—particularly during the warm months when windows and doors to things like balconies and decks are more likely to be open. It is nearly impossible to avoid the sounds from outside in these places. In the case of Chiang Mai, this is primarily due to the openness of the architecture and the prominence of birds and other animals; with Istanbul (particularly, the neighborhood of Galata) and New York City, this is due to the bustling city streets, constant stream of traffic, and seemingly endless construction.
I feel that these liminal acoustic sites, where the intermingling of inside and outside sound is prominent, are important. They remind us that we are a part of a larger system even when we are in our interior sanctuaries. Listening to the sonic portraits I made from Chiang Mai and Istanbul evoke strong memories for me. Immediately I am transported back to these places, reminded of the spaces I was staying in and the unique soundscapes of the outside world calling out to me from the window or balcony.
Notes:
Walter Benjamin, The Arcades Project (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
2002), p. 226.
Walter Benjamin, “Paris, Capital of the Nineteenth Century,” New Left Review I,
48 (1968): 83.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Here are the front and back sides of a Hop Rod Brochure.
It looks like this one was sent to potential dealers, since it shows both wholesale and retail prices.
These pictures are of a reduced size for your viewing here, but if you want the full size and resolution, just click on either picture to get it.
This gasoline powered 2 cycle HOP ROD pogo stick is identical to the one ridden (and raced!) by Ron Kinyon, inventor of the ABANA pneumatic forging hammer. Since I told Ron during our European ABANA Blacksmith trip last year (1999) that I really wanted my own Hop Rod, and since Ron brought me one to borrow (delivering it at the Flagstaff ABANA conference This year), several members thought is was appropriate to show here in our local Guild of Metalsmiths conference gallery.
After all, the Hop Rod IS made of metal. And it certainly is a rare conversation piece. It was featured in a full-blown road test article during 1960 by Motor Trend Magazine. Manufactured in 1960 and 1961, powered pogo stick would toss an adult about 2 feet into the air with each hop (unless something went wrong). That worked out well until someone was injured badly during a publicity stunt at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway and shortly thereafter a well known (at the time) evening TV personality was thrown off his Hop Rod and broke a shoulder on his late night show.
I am told that the USA Department Of Transportation actually BANNED the machine! The most dangerous mode, apparently, was being blasted off at an angle into a tree. Not to be operated here at the conference for obvious reasons. Not for sale. (Some very loosely related Background): The ABANA European trip in 1999 was to the countries of Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic. I wrote this article as a Gallery entry for the Guild of Metalsmiths "Madness", their annual September conference in the year 2000. Ron and I first discussed Hop Rods during the July, 2000 Flagstaff AZ ABANA conference. A few months Later, I bought Ron's machine and I also acquired another Hop Rod on Ebay at about the same time.
How much do they sell for? I see them on Ebay now and then. Here are a few examples: In about 2012, I think one sold for more than $500 One was sold on Ebay in 2014 for $1000.00! December 2, 2018- A decent looking HopRod brought $1,275 USD and there were 27 bids by 9 bidders.
The Hop Rod "Spark Plug":
Recently a guy contacted me if I had any extra "spark plugs", and asked about its dimensions. I answered him, then he asked where he might get a new one. My Reply" Sorry, but I have no idea where one might get a new plug. I just googled "Chance mfg company" and got this: Chance Mfg Company Wiki You will see that this must be the same outfit. However a lot of water over the dam since then. But, maybe, a call to them might yield a lead. I saw that the "former Chance company emerged from bankruptcy in 2002". They might have gone under from lawsuits due to the Hop Rod??? So they might no be real forthcoming, but it's worth a try.
Here are specs, pix and description of the Ignition Plug, from my view:
1 note
·
View note
Text
Fant Allison Smart
February 22, 1946-January 6, 2002
“Here’s to the sunny slopes of long ago”
“My …weren’t those shiny times…”
“Here’s to the sunny slopes of long ago ...”
Fant Allison Smart February 22, 1946-January 6, 2002
“Oh what a time it was and what a time it was; it was ... a time of innocence... a time of confidences”*
“... long ago it must be ... I have a photograph, hold on to memories... they’re all that’s left you...”*
We think time follows rules; strict and linear and precise... the truth is there are no rules: a moment can be a decade, a memory can immediately transport you back twenty years in a blink of an eye.
It comes in a dream... like a light haze or a clearing of vision ...the time of day varies, but usually the location is the same: the long wooden bar with brass railings at The Flashback. He’s standing at the bar, back facing me ... but I catch his glimpse in the mirrored front. The ponytail hangs across his back, his Stetson rests beside him and he’s scribbling in his little black note pad.
He finishes his Coors Light and wipes his whiskers with the back of his hand. A sense of relieved anticipation fills the room, because no matter if the week was good or bad; the light banter with my best friend is like a tonic, a cool breeze .... much needed medicine.
What will we talk about for the next few hours at FAC (Friday Afternoon Club): women, work, music, jokes that elicit more groan than laughter, camping, a remember when... the kind you never tire of hearing? Questions ...where did a fella like this come from? You hear about them; folks, to use his vernacular, “who were rode hard and put up wet,” but still exuded gentility and heart and hope. A man who whose heart had taken beatings, but could brush it off like a little boy brushing off his dirty overalls ... ready to play again, to laugh...to love. A kind spirit who never tarnished on the outside, but who started to feel the lonely pain on the inside.
Oh, he could keep it at bay with a witty tune or the planning of a get together that he knew we needed as much as he. You never got tired of the meager events at the end of the week, you took it and inhaled the sweetness like one might breathe in honeysuckle ... it lasted just a bit but would salve the soul, besides there would be a lifetime of Friday Afternoon Clubs to revel in and to look forward to... until there wasn’t. He walked off away like aforementioned haze, slowly dissipating into the distance into the trees ... down into a dark creek bottom alone.
That was twenty years ago and it was yesterday and it will be tomorrow.... I and so many of his friends will spend a few quiet moments today, his birthday, looking for a sign, a trace of what once was. One time Russell and I got lost looking for the camp house where he, Fant would be waiting and setting up camp. After an hour and a half of driving through the woods, we pulled up in the mud off of the porch and asked, “ damn Fant why didn’t you leave a marker so that we could find this place?” He boyishly replied, “ I did... I left a gin bottle on a stump to let you know you were on the right path.” He’d add, “ it was right there if you knew where to look.” There it is ... his sign, his presence is there if you know where to look.” We must’ve talked about Lonesome Dove a thousand times and he would turn out a Gus McCrae witticism with the ease of opening his long neck. I do liken him to Gus a man who loved too much and lost pieces of himself as the story went on ... until there was less and less of him to go on. I look down after my rambling had engaged in daydreams and unanswerable questions and my vision clears. I am alone... knowing I’ll never have another friend like Fant Smart ever again, but know I was damned blessed to have him as a compadre as long as I did. So, happy birthday Fant, you old fart ...to quote Augustus McCrae—-“ here’s to the sunny slopes of long ago... and have a damn happy birthday up there in Valhalla, or Nirvana or what ever suits you.
On January 6th, 2002 ... my best friend was murdered ... I have never truly recovered... it’s been twenty years, a few of us did a little writing about his place in our lives... thank you friends. Today the topic isn’t in question; it’s a sacred day.... a day where time has no meaning... for this I’m glad. As I contemplating how I would approach this, I was drawn to how unfathomable and meaningless the passage of time can be. I’ve known people for up to 50 years or more and many move in and out of our lives like shadows passing through tall grass in the wind. I knew my friend from 1996-2002... in that short period of time we became close friends, good friends don’t need anymore time that that. In truth, my bond to Fant was cemented after only a couple of days as I’m inexorably drawn to eccentric, non conforming characters. But Fant was gentle and kind ... the only time I can recall him confronting someone in anger was when he confronted me over misplacing some photograph prints in his room. Even though I was getting the “chewing” I felt bad for him because he looked so damn uncomfortable being angry. A hour later, he came up to me and said, “hey, you know I found those prints, they were on my desk.” With an air of , “I told ya so,” I answered him with a snarky, uh huh.” Fant looked embarrassed and said, “I guess half the story can be a dangerous thing, but not with friends huh?” We grinned at each and I replied, “...especially not with a couple of weird hippies like us.”
Fant Allison Smart was born in 1946 in East Texas. He and I taught together for six years which I think for him was sixteen years at the end. He was a songwriter, a traveler, a stone mason and about a dozen other things. To quote from an essay written by a friend of his in Goliad named Rocky trying to describe him on first sight,
“Most of our group were Children of the Sixties, and, try as some did to overwhelm their innate look of Child of a Small Town, one thing most of us didn’t sport—even those who lived and worked the ranch and farm—were cowboy duds.”
This fellow had a nice gingham shirt on, pressed and the pearl buttons all intact with the right about of luster. Wranglers and shined on kaboy boots, and a big kaboy hat on the bar in front of him. Well, to the side, really, since in front was a domestic beer.”**
He was a walking, talking conversation piece with all he did and said. Once we had a rented a beach house in Bolivar to celebrate the retirement of colleague. Having just the right amount of “coldbeer,” to Fant it was one word without the hint of a pause, I sat down beside him on the deck. He was wearing flip flops I noticed as he always wore the aforementioned Kayboy boots, and I looked down aghast at the sight that on his left foot, his big toe was missing. I freaked, “SON OF A BITCH, DAMMIT, WHERE THE F*** IS YOUR TOE?” He barely looked up and giggled and said, “I guess somewhere in Nacogdoches county. I kicked a running mower when I was eight... off it went.” Still recovering from the sight, just seeing Fant’s feet was shocking enough as it appeared that any type of pedicure had never entered his mind, “SHIT! I’m sorry dude.” He winked at me, “don’t be... it kept me out of Vietnam.... hmmm, that might make a song.” It was always like that.
A victim of heart break and unrequited love, Fant could no doubt be the inspiration for any old school, wang tangy, heartbreaking country song. He didn’t wear it on his sleeve; the bits and pieces would escape on FAC (Friday afternoon club), song lyrics, or cryptic emails delivered late, late Friday nights or early, early Saturday mornings.. it just depended on how much coldbeer we had consumed. His mysterious late night emails which often were song lyrics written in reverse and signed to the love of his life, “we should’ve done different Tressie Ann” or “ in my heart you’ll be Tressie Ann;” was his gesture to let his friends all over the country that he’d made it home safely...we could all rest with a clear mind. His emails and correspondence was signed with one of his two nom de plumes: J. K. Schwartz or Vance Mart. There is a memorial brick on the square in downtown Nacogdoches with J. K. Schwartz placed on it. What a guy.
Once, Russell and I had cooked out with drinks at Russell’s home. We told him, “you’re not getting out of here tonight... your staying here,” to which he acquiesced pretty easily. There was nothing small or quiet or anything done with finesse when it came to Fant, yet as surreptitiously as a ninja, that six foot, 275 pound bear of a man snuck out of the house. We waited viewing the computer waiting for his email so that we’d know he made it home safe. 12:10 an email from J. K. Schwartz hit the inbox, we could go to sleep.
FAC, wasn’t that what I was writing about before chasing a rabbit, was where the witticism flowed like wine ... often literally. One night he had his lap top out which had no Internet service, and we spent the night drinking and typing to no one how our conversation would sound if spoken in an Irish accent. Two big guys with ponytails, drinking copious amounts of coldbeer, speaking like Irishmen, and rolling with laughter at how the conversation looked typed on his lap top and no one was getting hurt. Ahhh “shiny times” ... his term for the best of times...and that they were.
Self discipline has to come into play with this piece, for truth’s sake, I could write for hours. I laugh and I cry when I tell Fant stories even after nineteen years. I’ve mourned him three times the number of years I knew him. I saw him yesterday, I see him now...remember what I said about time having no rules? My biggest fear is that I do t want someone so kind, creative, affable, wise, eccentric, funny and human to be forgotten. We are a poorer species without him, but fewer and fewer people know it. At Lufkin Middle School where we taught, the kids and I and Madeline Porter made a memorial sidewalk to honor Fant. On the day of dedication, it was rainy and gray. I had my guitar and some kids accompanied me as I sang two of Fant’s songs: “Would it Matter if I Misspelled Thermometer” and “We are the Standing People,”(which is a grace he said over Thanksgiving one year as if the tall trees were praying). So many of the staff has moved on(myself included) and all the students grown to adulthood, that I reckon no one even know who the sidewalk is for. It is unavoidable I suppose, but as Merlin said in L’Morte de Artur, “it is the doom of men that they forget.
I’ll not forget ole Bean, Frijole Compadre ...I know I write about him this time every year ... and it may seem morbid to some; but I subscribe to the Druidic belief that no one really dies, we just change form and we can hold on to special characters if they aren’t allowed to be forgotten
Kaep in kickin' mah stoatin mukker Fant Alisson Smart
Twenty years ago, I lost my best friend to a senseless act of violence. There has not been a day that I haven't thought of him ....and the days have never been the same. The world lost one of the kindest, creative, gentle, imaginative, idealistic human beings I have ever known.... and had the most fantastic sense of humor that was delivered with a keen and childlike wit. I have experienced loss since and will again .... but have never lost such a rare spirit. I wish I could play guitar with him again ... as I have never played as well since, I wish I could dig deep into the well of philosophical dialogue again.... as I have never visited such since... I wish I could revel in nonsensical humor with him again .... as nothing has struck me as funny since.... I wish I could have one more Friday afternoon club at Flashback as Friday afternoons have felt much more lonely since. No one I know has started a phrase with, " I've heard it said," since I met my friend ... and only the best stories could begin with such words . The world has not been the same since his ugly departure from this world. I don't feel anger or vengeance .... just loss ... deep loss. I miss you old friend ...the world is somewhat more dim since you went away, but my life is the better for having known you
“You don’t know what you had Tressie Ann”
*”Bookends” by Paul Simon
**”Where You Bean, Frijole Compadre, J. K. Swartz” ...Rocky and Rosemary.
http://labibliotecacoffee.com/
Where You Bean, Frijole Compadre, J. K. Swartz? From a friend ten years past
> Rocky and Rosemary called it simply, Bar Night. The other nights weren’t anything special in the Empresario Restaurant; they weren’t anything since they were closed. But, Friday night, no food; wine, beer, set-ups, dominoes, spades and ping-pong, and, most of all, what we all gathered there for week after week after week: camaraderie.
>
> Most of us were people from different places, and even of those from Goliad, many had come back from somewhere else, somewhere not as lustrous as that little town can be (as many small towns can be), somewhere the air wasn’t as clean, the stars less bright and sky-filling, the people as nosey-nice. Some of us have since gone back to where we’d come from to head to Goliad and set up house, so many decades ago. Some have died.
>
> I pushed the door open and walked into the Empresario. It was Bar Night. I looked forward to Bar Nights since that was when all my friends who hadn’t made it to our noisy lunch table during the week, could join in the same room together and do what people in small towns must for fun: self entertain. I don’t think any of us saw it this way, consciously, until Charlotte Yoakum, new to town herself at the time, remarked how her friends in Corpus got together and went places to be entertained, while we congregated with the sole intent to entertain ourselves. Bar Night, as another newcomer remarked, was “shiny times”.
>
>Who else might have been inside when I got there I don’t recall exactly, though I seem to remember Rocky talking to a fella at the bar. Most of our group were Children of the Sixties, and, try as some did to overwhelm their innate look of Child of a Small Town, one thing most of us didn’t sport—even those who lived and worked the ranch and farm—were cowboy duds.
>
> This fellow had a nice gingham shirt on, pressed and the pearl buttons all intact with the right about of luster. Wranglers and shined on kaboy boots, and a big kaboy hat on the bar in front of him. Well, to the side, really, since in front was a domestic beer.
>
> We were introduced, and I had to ask him his name, twice. First name Fant, second name Smart. I’d done a bit of homework about the area, and both names seemed to ring distant chimes. In a quiet voice, speaking somewhat quickly, self-deprecatingly, thoughtful, with a tongue that just seemed to find its way into his cheek, this Fant fella came across as friendly, funny, humorously, doggedly, resistant to direct questions.
>
> In time we learned this quiet fellow could turn a quick and hearty phrase, drawing from a situation just enough panache or even pain, then combining it with enough humor and sobering thought, that some of the worst moments could dissolve into muted thought and clearer introspection. He never knew, if you listened to his opening disclaimer; “Well, I don’t know for sure”, or, “I’ve heard it said”, he’d say, then offer something that snuck in around the backside of sensibility to nestle into one’s wondering mind. Maybe he didn’t know, but he had a few good ideas.
>
> This was a man who would car camp in the river bottom on a cold night, on a cot with his backpacking sleeping bag zipped up around his head, last nights fire waiting to be re-stoked to ward off the freezing chill. Dinner the night before was often a wonder of grilled meat and simmering grilled vegetables; some kind of liquor to sip while eating, with coldbeer—this was not only a single word, as one could not go without the other, but, almost spoken as one syllable—as a chaser. He’d serve up a platter full for each of us, the steam whisked away by the northerly winds carving down the bottomland. It was as near to gourmet dining as I got back then, in an atmosphere we both saw as far higher than any indoor facility.
>
>Once done, we’d wash the plates with water and sand and stow them in his truck, the gourmand not extending quite to excessive cleanup. This was a man, after all, who might invite you over for dinner at his house—his aunt’s house across from Ressmann’s—and you’d find, upon arriving, that his idea of cooking in a kitchen was El Patio tv dinners or frozen pizza. But, on an open fire or camp stove, he showed inspiration.
>
>I’m sure he would have liked us to think of him as a grizz or black bear, or a hawk in thermal-flight, but most of us gravitated toward images more koala-like, or, as the years passed, mourning dove. The last few years especially, when his loneliness in Pollock, just up the road from Lufkin, was made more acute, I believe, by his increase in drinking. He pined for the days in Goliad, when he drove to Beeville to carve monuments, and sandblasted a few of his own in his Goliad garage. He pined for Tressie Ann, seeming to hark to that time across from Ressmann’s, when he and Tressie—married out at Bill and Robin’s under the arbor, with folks from all over attending—set up house. I think those were his shiny times, in his mind.
>
>He carved mirrors, and tombstones out of river rock brought from Colorado. His Crazy Horse stone gave me pause for thought, and I always meant to have him carve one for me, too.
>
>I wonder where these things have gone? Fant would be just as happy having one of the stones he’d made for his heroes on his own grave, and would prefer no grave at all, if I remember his preferences right. Burned and scattered, I think we both agreed, was the way to go, once gone.
>
>I’ve spent some hours since hearing, trying to come up with something on the web—a newspaper site, mostly—that might have some details. But, nothing so far. With the suicide-sounding mail he was sending out around the last few years, I don’t know what to think about the sketchy details I currently have. It’s almost as though someone—some as yet named bad person? Fant himself?—were trying to erase his existence. It might be simpler than that, and, in that terrible way one has when weighing two evils to decide which to choose—Fant, decimated emotionally and wheeling downward into a state of mind allowing, encouraging, suicide; or, some bastard seeing a chance to take from him his—our—only real possession, life.
>
>Either way, he was found out in the woods, where he would choose to die, if given such a choice. Though, regardless, he died in a way none of us wanted for him, or anyone else.
>
>Talking with Bo last night, we decided if it were Fant trying to do the erasing, what he would leave would almost certainly be an electronic note, talking about what he was going to do in vague, veiled, obtuse terms, then singing a few songs. To be more specific, while Fant might certainly leave us without a note of any kind, preferring the mist to swallow him with only a moist and lingering trace, his alter ego, J.K. Swartz, would not go gentle into that good night, at least not without a parting shot.
>
>I keep that in mind as we wait to hear what’s found out. But, mostly, I keep in mind a gentle creature who enriched my life, even as he receded into
I know I post this every year ... and it may seem morbid to some; but I subscribe to the Druidic belief that no one really dies, we just change form and we can hold on to special characters if they aren’t allowed to be forgotten
Kaep in kickin' mah stoatin mukker Fant Alisson Smart
Eighteen years ago tomorrow, I lost my best friend to a senseless act of violence. There has not been a day that I haven't thought of him ....and the days have never been the same. The world lost one of the kindest, creative, gentle, imaginative, idealistic human beings I have ever known.... and had the most fantastic sense of humor that was delivered with a keen and childlike wit. I have experienced loss since and will again .... but have never lost such a rare spirit. I wish I could play guitar with him again ... as I have never played as well since, I wish I could dig deep into the well of philosophical dialogue again.... as I have never visited such since... I wish I could revel in nonsensical humor with him again .... as nothing has struck me as funny since.... I wish I could have one more Friday afternoon club at Flashback as Friday afternoons have felt much more lonely since. No one I know has started a phrase with, " I've heard it said," since I met my friend ... and only the best stories could begin with such words . The world has not been the same since his ugly departure from this world. I don't feel anger or vengeance .... just loss ... deep loss. I miss you old friend ...the world is somewhat more dim since you went away, but my life is the better for having known you
I lost my friend Thomas Morris when we were ten; I lost my party buddy Jay Hunter when we were nineteen; I lost my friend, Fant Smart, who saw the world the way I did when he was fifty six and I was thirty five; my good friend John McElroy left me due to cancer at the ago of sixty six and I was thirty seven; my precious sister Cindy Rich was taken from us at the age of forty three and I was thirty eight; my oldest, dearest friend Jeff Jefferson shuffled off this mortal coil at the same age I was …forty four; my father Roland Rich succumbed to cancer at seventy six…I was forty six; my mother Pat Rich earned her rest at eighty two while I was fifty two; at the start of this Covid plague,my wild child, best first cousin, Heather Rich-Matteson died at forty four as I had just turned fifty four; my sweet, loving mother in law, Annie Hall passed away at ninety two with me being fifty four and my wife being fifty three; in the next few horrifying months I would lose my friends Rick, Donnell and others to this virus.
All of us have this story, it is all very similar. A loved one leaves under tragic circumstances, but we are not completely taken aback as they are older than us or our same age… it is what is expected.
Buddha teaches us of four noble laws; the 1st noble law is that in this life we will feel pain, loss and suffering. It is the inescapable law. The 2nd noble law tells that we are to joyfully participate in this life of loss. Difficult…yet not beyond our range of understanding. My nephew Matthew Paul Rich was born on September 24, 1996…he grew and spent summers with us and celebrated holidays at my father’s house. He became a brother like no other, a son who gave his father, my brother, and his mother loving pride. He became a tough athlete and and even tougher working man. He loved a beautiful woman and they brought forth two magnificent young children. On February 28, 2021, Matthew left us. This was different than the others… he was twenty four, he had babies, he was going to build a house. We all die but no noble laws, or holy scripture, Tao can make sense of the young … good, decent young people dying when there are elders looking on to see this young man make a family. This is not right…a wife shouldn’t become a widow, a father and mother should not have their hopes and hearts crushed like this. …we cannot escape the 1st noble law.
There is an old Celtic, Druidic saying that says, “so long as a soul is remembered even by just one, the soul is still with us.” Matt… you ain’t going anywhere for a good while…you will be the smile that comforts, the dream that heals…you will not be forgotten. So, you wait up there in Valhalla at joy we don’t know but with your spirit breathing with ours. You see and know your people who went before and know that others are coming afterwards and in the mystery that is time we will be together again.
‘Lo, there do I see my father. 'Lo, there do I see--
--my mother, and my sisters...
and my brothers.
‘Lo, there do I see the line--
--of my people, back to the beginning.
'Lo, they do call to me.
They bid me take my place among them.
In the halls of Valhalla...
Where the brave...
May live...
..forever.
#open mind#coffetime#retirement#i need friends#teacher#Fant Smart#JK Schwartz#Vance Mart#Tressie Ann
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Sibling reunions.
So there was some discussion on this in another forum and I thought I would jot down some of my long rambling speculations on which siblings will meet up and reunite first in the next book.
Jon and Rickon
Up north, I think there is a very strong chance that Jon and Rickon will be the first Starks to meet each other again. GRRM has stressed a couple of times that he has important things planned for Rickon, Davos has gone to Skagos to fetch him, Rickon has the backing of the most powerful Northern house in Manderly and in Bran’s absence, Rickon is Lord of Winterfell.
We know that GRRM is writing Rickon for the next book. He has mentioned how his Osha is becoming more similar to Natalie Tena’s version on the show. He has outright stated that Rickon will be in the next book. And how the books are different to the show because Rickon is still alive in the books.
Now, two things about the battle against the Boltons:
1. There will be a different Stark Vs Boltons battle in the next book. We have this note from GRRM:
Speaking of which: Martin leaves a little note for the producers when writing about Ramsay’s flesh-eating hounds, whom we see hunting down a girl for sport.
[N.B. A note for future reference. A season or two down the line Ramsay’s pack of wolfhounds are going to be sent against the Stark direwolves, so we should build up the dogs as much as possible in this and subsequent episodes.]
https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2018/12/game-of-thrones-george-rr-martin-last-script-the-lion-and-the-rose
Notice the plural - as in direwolves, not direwolf. And the only two Starks with direwolves currently in the North are Jon and Rickon. We may see Jon come down from the Wall with a Wildling army and the North rallying behind Rickon and they combine forces to attack the Boltons. If Stannis is still alive and has an army at this point, it could be that everyone else joins him in battle.
Rickon could travel to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea which is closest to Skagos, or White Harbor or to Stannis’ camp. Either way, Jon and Rickon are now the closest siblings and have maximum potential to reunite since their plots look to be colliding soon as well.
2. Theon will be important to the resolution of the Bolton storyline.
What inspired him to create Ramsay Snow? GRRM said, and I quote, that he needed something “to bite Theon in the ass”. Ramsay was created for Theon’s storyline, and he is first presented as a prisoner and a servant and then rises to a high position while Theon becomes his prisoner and servant.
https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/6uwfb0/spoilers_extended_notestranslation_of_grrm_qa_in/
Theon is currently with Stannis who is preparing for battle against the Boltons. I doubt his story ends there - without meeting up again with either Bran or Jon. We know Bran is trying to communicate with Theon through the Weirwoods and Theon feels an immense guilt for what he did to Bran and Rickon. Jon and Theon have a lot of parallels and some of the same identity issues.
It’s possible therefore that Theon survives the battle of Ice with Stannis Vs Boltons to meet up with Jon and Rickon for the later battle of the bastards.
Arya
Lets examine Arya’s travel options from Braavos:
1. There’s plot and route that can take her to the North via Justin Massey and Jeyne Poole. The prevailing speculation being that once Massey lands in Braavos along with Jeyne, the real Arya meets up with fake Arya and decides to leave behind the FM and travel to the wall to take down some mutineers.
I think that plotwise for Arya’s character this makes sense. She has pretty much finished her FM training - time for plot progression and for her to move on to the North and get mixed up in both the political shenanigans and the army of the dead plot.
And if she does go North, she will finally reunite with Jon Snow - something she’s been trying to do since book one.
But there are some issues with Justin Massey getting to Braavos. In the first place, winter and storms have come to the North making travel hard. And in the second, Massey needs Stannis’ ships at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to travel to Braavos - those ships are currently being overwhelmed by both storms and wights at Hardhome. So without transport, it’s hard to see how Massey gets to Braavos and Jeyne meets Arya.
It’s also possible that Arya just hears about what is happening in the North, gets on a ship and sails to White Harbor. She could meet up with Rickon and Jon that way.
But if Arya is not going North, where will she go to?
Travel-wise it would be easier for her to sail to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea or the port at White Harbor - traveling for a single person is always easy and Arya is an old hand at this.
But there is also speculation that Arya will travel to the Riverlands and meet up with her mother, Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood without Banners again. I am not fond of this theory, since in my opinion it will be once again a retread of her Riverlands story in books 2/3. She’s done with that part of Westeros. Yes, she did see her dead mother be dragged out of the water and a resolution and closure with her mother would be nice, but I am not sure how Arya in the Riverlands will progress the plot.
So if Arya does manage to reach the Riverlands and Lady Stoneheart, is there a sibling that she will meet up with?
Sansa
Let’s take a look at Sansa.
Sansa is busy in the Eyrie, embroiled in LF’s plot to snare Harry the Heir. Winter has come to the Vale and it’s pretty much snowed in. So it may very well be Sansa’s plot is limited to the game playing and political goings on in the Vale. If Sansa does indeed step outside the Vale, the logical place that she can travel to is the Riverlands.
I have often seen it argued (By a certain section of fans) that Arya’s story is in the Riverlands because she is just as revenge obsessed as Lady Stoneheart and her story is about giving up revenge while Sansa will travel North and reunite with Jon and win battles and become Lady of Winterfell. But in actuality, Sansa is far closer to the Riverlands (Much closer and easier for Sansa to get to the Riverlands than Arya) and has actual plot reasons to be there.
What plot reasons? So a recent thread on asoiaf reddit brought up a 2012 comment from GRRM on Littlefinger:
That said, back in 2002, here's what a fan recounted with George:
Who is over lord of the Riverlands? (Since the Freys have Riverrun yet Littlefinger was named Lord Paramount). George says that Littlefinger is the Lord of the Riverlands but that he is going to run into trouble. I commented that Littlefinger is really powerful now that he has the Riverlands and supposed control of the Eyrie. GRRM laughed and said that I need to remember that for all his power Littlefinger has no army. (I thought that was interesting). GRRM also commented that (I forget which Frey, Emmon?) the Frey given Riverrun really wants to be Lord of the Riverlands and has dreams of having his father be his vassel. (I thought that was interesting also)
https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/itw5wd/spoilers_extended_a_deeper_look_at_three/
So it looks like Littlefinger is going to run into trouble in the Riverlands - where LadyStoneheart and the brotherhood have set up their base - and it looks like the Freys want control. All LF needs to assert his authority is a Vale army. The Lannisters are pretty much done in the Riverlands, the Blackfish is still around and Edmure is a prisoner.
LF could get support in the Riverlands with Sansa - a Tully. Remember LF, his vale army and Sansa being responsible for defeating the Boltons and avenging the red wedding on the show? What if we get LF, Sansa and his vale army taking on and getting rid of Walder Frey, avenging the Red Wedding and winning favor in the Riverlands and the North that way?
I suspect that Lady Stoneheart is a part of the Vale/LF plot in the books and that’s why it disappeared on the show with the rest of the Vale while D&D combined plots and transferred LF and Sansa to the North to take on the Boltons.
I think a LF/Lady Stoneheart confrontation will be very interesting and possible - given their history and given LF’s current infatuation with Sansa. We have this from GRRM:
My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books.
LF, Sansa and Lady Stoneheart meeting again is almost certain in my opinion.
So if Arya is heading down south to the Riverlands for closure with her mother and if Sansa is heading there with LF to help solve his Riverland issues, is it possible for them to meet up? Will we get a Sansa-Arya reunion in the Riverlands? Remember, GRRM has assured us that these two will meet again and have ‘deep issues to work out’. Maybe this happens in the Riverlands with Sansa and Arya and Lady Stoneheart?
Anyways, if Sansa is uniting with a sibling it’s most probably going to be Arya. Everyone else is far up North and currently Arya is the only sibling truly free to move around to any destination. Will Sansa go North? Hell No.
Jonsa Stans think that Sansa is somehow going to travel all alone, all the way from the Eyrie to the Wall in harsh snowstorms.
Which, lol. By the time Sansa gets there, the books will probably be over and everyone would be chilling in Winterfell.
No army is currently getting North with the snowstorms. The Vale doesn’t even have a fleet to sail to White harbor from the Sisters. Littlefinger would have to hire a fleet from Essos and from Dany’s predicaments there we know how hard this is. After sailing to White Harbor, the Vale army would then have to march 400 miles to Winterfell in harsh snows that have stalled Stannis’ army and covered the walls of Winterfell.
Can Sansa, by herself, escape, catch a ship and sail from the Sisters to White Harbor? Possible, if she can get down the Eyrie, get to the Sisters and get a ride aboard a ship. I can’t see Sansa doing al; this. Plus, I still think with LF in the Vale and Riverlands, there is still a lot of plot for her down south. Plus, LF likely will clash with Varys as well:
Littlefinger and Varys are adversaries, both know a lot about the others' plans, so they're at a stalemate. LF knows more about Varys's motives than Varys does about LF
https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/5g7vef/spoilers_extended_grrms_second_talk_at_the/
---------------------------------------------
So we have Jon and Rickon reuniting in the North and Arya and Sansa maybe reuniting in the South if Arya travels to the Riverlands instead of the North.
As for Bran? I think he will be busy exploring the Lands of Always Winter and learning more about the Others in the next book. No reunions for him yet. I think he will meet up with his siblings in the last book.
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
LACUNA COIL Releases New Single 'In The Mean Time' Featuring ASH COSTELLO Of NEW YEARS DAY
Following the successful release of "Never Dawn" (over two million streams),Italian goth metal veterans LACUNA COIL are back with their new single, "In The Mean Time", featuring Ash Costello of NEW YEARS DAY. The song’s title is a reference to the mean times the world is living in, as well as a reference to the state the band itself is in, between cycles.
LACUNA COIL states: "'In The Mean Time' is a reflection on how much our society has generally 'lost the plot'. We are living in really mean times filled with unhappy people: lonely, anxious, depressed, destructive. The pressure that crushes from the outside doesn't allow us to see things with the right clarity.
"This song is like group therapy: not a lamentation, but acceptance that once broken, it's hard to put oneself back together again.
"We need to take our minds off all the inescapable toxicity and find that there's so much more to this life… and know that in the meantime, everything cannot be aligned.
"We invited Ash Costello from NEW YEARS DAY to feature on the track and we're thrilled she came on board adding exactly what we needed for this song with her warm voice and charisma."
Costello said: "I am deeply honored to join LACUNA COIL on tour for the first time, to have the incredible opportunity to lend my guest vocals to a new track and appear in the music video. Working alongside the powerhouse vocalist Cristina has been a privilege, and I may be biased in saying that 'In The Mean Time' has quickly become my favorite by LACUNA COIL. Its message about embracing individuality and not conforming deeply resonates with me."
LACUNA COIL will embark on the "Ignite The Fire" U.S. tour next month with support from NEW YEARS DAY and OCEANS OF SLUMBER.
Last July, LACUNA COIL released the official lyric video for the band's single "Never Dawn". For the track, LACUNA COIL partnered with CMON, the renowned board game publisher behind the popular game "Zombicide".
LACUNA COIL has spent some of the last couple of years promoting "Comalies XX", the "deconstructed" and "transported" version of the band's third album, "Comalies".
"Comalies XX" was made available on October 14, 2022 via Century Media Records.
LACUNA COIL celebrated the 20th anniversary of "Comalies", by performing it in its entirety at a one-night-only concert on October 15, 2022 at Fabrique in Milano.
"Comalies" was originally released on October 29, 2002 through Century Media Records. The LP, which featured the band's breakthrough single "Heaven's A Lie", has reportedly gone on to sell over 300,000 copies in the United States alone.
Photo credit: Patric Ullaeus
youtube
12 notes
·
View notes
Note
Pink, amber and coral :)
Ask game: 20 colour asks.
Hello, and thanks for the ask :D (I read this to the tune of a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book title :D)
---
pink - which is your favourite animal? zoos or farms?
Cats! And especially tigers!
And oh, the second one is a good question! I do enjoy zoos and animal parks but I just get to those quite rarely. I think Finland has only one actual proper zoo, and it's in Helsinki, and the last time I visited was in 2002 or so when I was 11. The rest here are more of animal parks which sometimes have some more exotic animals in them, e.g. a snow leopard, but mainly they have more common animals that exist in the Finnish nature as well - or they have all kinds of different ungulates which are easier to keep and set up the exhibits for.
But I think I have to say I like farms more than zoos, as long as it's not intensive farming where animals become numbers in the system instead of individuals with names. And since I am a horse groom who is occasionally dreaming of other animal related jobs, especially zookeeper's job, I still would prefer an animal park or farm animal park if it means I get to also interact with the animals from the ground instead if behind bars or glass. I really like to hang out with animals and interact with them and pet/scratch them if they like it, and I think I'd be miserable working at a zoo where I would have to only watch them.
---
I'll put the rest under a cut because I, again, could not stop talking :D
amber - can you drive? if not, how do you get around?
Yeah, I can drive. I got the driver's license a couple of months after I turned 18 (in 2009). I was planning on getting it on my birthday but I failed the first test and had to do it again, and it meant I had to take a few more lessons before I was allowed to try it again. But then I finally made it - and also never forgot the roundabout traffic rules again because it was one of the reasons why I failed the first test :D
I also got a car before getting the driver's license, and my current one is my second car. It's an absolute lifesafer to own, especially in my city which is not that big but has even worse public traffic system and too many uphills to every direction. I don't love anything as much as the feeling of not having to run after busses and stress over if I'll be able to catch one or not, because I'm always running late. With my own car I'll always have a ride, even if I'm running late despite it.
I also often choose to drive to other cities instead of public transport. It's just the feels of freedom. I live in east Finland and for some reason it's always more difficult to travel horizontally than vertically in Finland, so you often have to switch busses or trains several times, or use both, and the timetables might not always line-up nicely, so it's very stressful to try and find something that would match. But with a car you can just... hop in your car and drive and you're there without worrying about switching to other vehicles.
---
coral - which is your favourite disney movie? who makes the better movies, disney or pixar?
The Lion King, definitely. I saw it from a VHS shortly after it came out and have loved the movie ever since. It's also the only (original) Disney, of the ones we had on VHS, that had the music I absolutely adored. I realized this only when I was already an adult and found out Hans Zimmer made the score for the film. Also the "musical numbers" are better than in most films, and I usually hate musicals.
I hyperfixated on the Lion King when it was released on a dvd (at least in Finland) in 2003 when I was 12, and I bought it as well as the sequels and just, well, hyperfixated for some time :D
I think Pixar makes better movies than Disney. I have been a "fan" of Pixar ever since Toy Story came out, altho, I haven't seen any of the newer Pixar nor Disney movies since the early or mid 2000s. I think The Incredibles is probably the last one I saw? Except for Toy Story 3, that one I have seen and it was actually great, too. And MOnsters University.
I think the reason why I was always more drawn to Pixar than Disney films were the stories. I had some of the original Disney princess movies on VHS as I was growing up and I always hated them, they were so boring? I preferred the animal movies over movies about humans, and I also often was so annoyed by the music in all those movies, apart from The Lion King and 101 Dalmatians - which I didn't even have on VHS ever but borrowed it from my cousins sometimes.
Now, as an adult, as I look back at those Pixar movies, I have realized that they probably fed my aromantic side a lot. Most of the old Disney movies were about a princess finding a prince in the end, meanwhile the princesses being extremely boring as characters. But Pixar movies were (are?) all about the adventure and friendships (or a found family, even?), and I don't remember there ever being any proper romance? Like, sometimes they indicated some sort of a romance or how there COULD be one, but I don't remember any of them ending in a romance, or that it would have been the main idea of the whole story. Or even a subplot.
So, Pixar is my answer :D And Toy Story will probably forever be The Pixar film for me. It was also one of my first childhood hyperfixations as I was already old enough to understand and also memorize things. (I was 4 or 5 when I first saw it.)
2 notes
·
View notes
Photo
The Sad Case of The Lipstick Killer
North Kenmore Avenue is a much sought-after residential area in the city of Chicago, with a children’s park surrounding the apartments and transport links within walking distance. It lies around the corner from a prestigious Catholic school and the uptown setting is popular with young families and elderly residents alike, it’s safe atmosphere and cheap living costs appealing to people from all walks of life. North Kenmore wasn’t always as safe though. In 1945, in Apartment 4108, a woman was brutally murdered there.
It was June 5th when 44-year-old Josephine Ross was found slain on her apartment floor. Police were greeted by a messy scene– Pools of blood surrounded Josephine and the smashed up apartment indicated there had been a struggle. She had been stabbed multiple times and a dress had been wrapped around her head. Usually, when a killer covers the face of a victim, it suggests that they feel a great deal of remorse about the crime they have committed and that death is almost always the end result of an impulsive sex crime. However, this seemed different. No evidence of sexual assault was present and death had definitely been the result of a frenzied attack. Police found a clump of dark hair in Josephine’s hand, as if she had been in a violent struggle with somebody. Naturally, police turned to her ex-boyfriends and ex-husbands, all of whom had an alibi. Although the neighbourhood was frightened at the prospect of a murderer living close by, the police assured people there was nothing to worry about and that Ms. Ross had been killed by a startled burglar. Her murder didn’t make the front page, and she was sadly written off by investigators.
Six months later, and we are in December. Our killer strikes again but, this time, police begin to take notice. On the 10th of the month, divorcee Frances Brown was found dead in her apartment. She had been stabbed and shot, the bread knife used in her murder still lodged in her throat when a cleaning lady discovered the body. The grim message shown above, written in unusual handwriting, was scrawled on the apartment wall in red lipstick (earning the killer his moniker) but apart from that, little evidence was found. Compared to the first murder, police did have a bit more to go on: a bloody fingerprint and a possible eyewitness. John Derick, the concierge for the lobby, said he saw a nervous man and heard “possible gunshots” at around 4 a.m. Given the lack of surveillance technology during the 40s, it was impossible to confirm John’s account.
The last known murder of the deluded “Lipstick Killer” was a truly shocking crime against an innocent little girl. Six-year-old Suzanne Degnan (below) was snatched from her bedroom in Edgewater, Chicago, on January of 1946. Her bedroom window had been left open and a wooden ladder was still propped up against it. At the time, police had no reason to believe her abduction was connected to the Lipstick killer, as kidnapping little girls didn’t fit his modus operandi. A ransom note left at the scene read “GeI $20,000 Reddy & wAITe foR WoRd. do NoT NoTify FBI oR Police. Bills IN 5’s & 10’s. BuRN This FoR heR SAfTY.” That night, a man persistently telephoned the Degnan residence demanding the ransom, only to hang up as details were being exchanged. Those phone calls would later turn out to be a cruel joke performed by two high-school students, Vince Costello and Theodore Campbell. Sick with anguish, her family could only hope that the police could find Suzanne before it was too late. Sadly, their worst fears were confirmed. Acting on an anonymous tip, detectives travelled to a sewer just a block away from the Degnan residence and found Suzanne’s decapitated head. Where was the rest of her body? Investigators were now faced with the grim prospect that somebody had dismembered a little girl, and they were unfortunately right. They found her torso in storm drain, and both her legs had been discarded in separate catch basins. Her tiny arms were found a month later in another sewer. Blood, presumed to be Suzanne’s, was found in the drains of laundry tubs in the basement laundry room of a nearby apartment building. This crime was truly grisly, and without advanced forensic technology, it was hard to bring the killer to justice.
In a desperate bid to catch the murderer, police questioned hundreds of suspects and gave polygraph examinations to about 170 of them. In several press releases, they claimed to have captured the killer terrorising the city of Chicago, but they were always mistaken. All suspects were eventually released.
In June, 17-year-old criminal William Heirens (below) was burgling an apartment when he was confronted by the janitor and fled. Police were called, and Heirens was subdued by an off-duty police officer who dropped several flowerpots onto his head to render him unconscious. From the day of his arrest on June 26, 1946, things travelled on a downward spiral for Heirens and this once lucky burglar had run all out of luck. For some reason, police believed that Heirens was the Lipstick Killer and decided to question him. For six consecutive days, he was interrogated by police officers. He was denied food, water, and the right to an attorney, and two psychiatrists even gave him Sodium Pentothal (a potent barbiturate) without his consent. Most shocking of all, the 17-year-old was given a spinal tap without any anaesthesia. For days later, he was in incredible pain and couldn’t perform a polygraph test because his adrenaline-fuelled heart was beating too fast. Eventually, he cracked. He confessed to police that he had committed these crimes under an alter-ego named “George.” He explained to psychologists that he always took the rap for the crimes of “George” including theft, murder, and everything in between. The Chicago police department were suspicious of this defence, and accused Heirens of lying in the hopes of getting an insanity defence in court. Apart from his confession, police had nothing to go on. No evidence linked Heirens to the murders, and this polite University of Chicago student seemed incapable of such heinous crimes. It seemed like a bizarre arrest, but for the general public, it was good enough.
As suggested by his defence attorneys, Heirens confessed to all crimes. On his court date on August 7, 1946, Heirens took full responsibility for the three murders. The prosecution had him reenact the abduction and murder of Suzanne Degnan in court multiple times, all of which he did inconsistently. On the night of September 4th, Heirens attempted suicide in his cell and had timed it to coincide during a shift change of the prison guards. He was discovered hanging and was revived successfully by prison guards. He said later that sheer despair drove him to attempt suicide; “Everyone believed I was guilty…If I weren’t alive, I felt I could avoid being adjudged guilty by the law and thereby gain some victory. But I wasn’t successful even at that. …Before I walked into the courtroom my counsel told me to just enter a plea of guilty and keep my mouth shut afterward. I didn’t even have a trial..”
The next morning, the prosecution and defence were making their closing statements. The judge, Chief Justice Harold G. Ward, formally sentenced Heirens to three life terms. Somehow, he had been lucky enough to avoid the electric chair. As Heirens waited to be transferred to Stateville Prison from the Cook County Jail, Sheriff Michael Mulcahy asked Heirens if Suzanne Degnan suffered when she was killed. Heirens simply replied: “I can’t tell you if she suffered, Sheriff Mulcahy. I didn’t kill her. Tell Mr. Degnan to please look after his other daughter, because whoever killed Suzanne is still out there.”
Likely innocent, William Heirens still spent the rest of his life imprisoned. In 2002, a petition for his release was filed but eventually denied. In his older years, he suffered from diabetes and was confined to a wheelchair with limited eyesight. He died of natural causes on March 5th, 2012, due to complications with his illness.
In 1994, Dolores Kennedy formed a team of forensic experts to look into the murders and they found several inconsistencies, most notable was that Heirens’ confessions didn’t fully match the evidence. Heirens claimed that he was forced to confess by the police, and this is also supported by other evidence. They also concluded that the handwriting of the lipstick message and that of the ransom note were not the same and that neither matched that of Heirens. They also looked into the police force working on the case: Before Heirens was arrested, police had taken particular interest in a janitor called Hector Verburgh. 65-year-old Hector was from Belgium, and struggled to write fluently in English. With this in mind, isn’t it odd that police still arrested him and accused him of the murders? How could a man with no knowledge of English writing, scribble such an eloquently written note on his supposed victim’s wall? It didn’t stop there. Like Heirens, Verburgh was subjected to extreme torture. For two days, police interrogated him and beat him so badly that he sustained a dislocated shoulder. After his terrifying ordeal, he successfully sued the Chicago Police Department for $15,000.
“Oh, they hanged me up, they blindfolded me … I can’t put up my arms, they are sore. They had handcuffs on me for hours and hours. They threw me in the cell and blindfolded me. They handcuffed my hands behind my back and pulled me up on bars until my toes touched the floor. I no eat, I go to the hospital. Oh, I am so sick. Any more and I would have confessed to anything.”
With such atrocious behaviour from the police department, it’s safe to say that the man convicted of these crimes was not the real killer, merely a scapegoat for shoddy police work. The true identity of the Lipstick Killer is yet to be discovered, and, sadly, it seems that those who were murdered were not the only victims in this disturbing case.
#true crime#criminology#creep#creepy#killer#killers#serial killer#serial killers#william heirens#true crime podcast#cold case#unsolved#the lipstick killer#lipstick killer#horror#weird#wtf#law#justice#facts#did you know#bundyspooks
286 notes
·
View notes
Text
Riots, demonstration in Kikar Zion, siren 12.5.2021
Netanyahu is no fool….he is very very clever and many of us had a suspicion of what he was leading up to. I would not be surprised if he calls a state of emergency and continues with his vicious policy of not caring for the county but doing his best to keep himself, his mentally ill wife and son out of jail. Sara Netanyahu once said she did not care if the country burned…and they have succeeded in bringing us to that pass. The first picture is a quote of hers from 2002…… “We will go overseas and the country can burn” and the second a cartoon saying “I said we would leave for overseas and then the country can burn….NOT BEFORE”
This is a horrible morning. I am trying to put my thoughts into place. The whole country is burning. Tel Aviv. Suddenly after all the years of the south suffering and as they say, they were invisible it has become serious. I doubt that in Jerusalem there will be many more rockets. Maybe because of the holy places, Christian and Moslem, maybe because of the large Palestinian community. I feel guilty as I sit here quietly writing.
Netanyahu has done a good job of seeing the Israel on fire. Closing the steps at the Damascus gate …so obvious it would lead to troubles. He knew that he only had to give a small push and with his friend the minister of police everything would develop as it suited him. The news media has also been given its instructions and except for Ha’aretz no other paper mentions what is happening on the other side. Today a comment was passed which many people probably did not hear or take in. That the army would target high rise buildings……in which many families live. The army gave messages for people to evacuate……where were they supposed to go and how many of them actually got the message as we have taken care to destroy much of their communication.
Sunday I did not feel well and it was a furnace outside. Since the episode where I had memory loss and then straight after that had a cold ….many people here dafke in summer are also sick with colds….I feel a lack of desire to do anything. So I only went to the shiva for Cecelia in the evening. My Spanish teacher. I doubt I will go on trying to learn Spanish. I feel as if something has gone out of me. I had a special relationship with her and she was also my friend. I cannot imagine another teacher or a group. And at the shiva it seems that many of her other students felt the same. And every day I hear from someone else who had studied with her.
Monday I went out with Tag Maier to distribute flowers in the Old City to Palestinians. It was a difficult today because seldom do Ramadan and Jerusalem Day coincide.
But this is no united city. So divided, Right and left, Palestians, Jews, Hareidi Jews, …united? And yesterday the schism was even clearer. The religious youth took over the city and their arrogance was unbearable. Some of our members gave flowers to them and when I asked one why she had done so, she said she had many interesting exchanges with some of them who did not even know what we were doing or why. But I saw some of them throwing the flowers into the rubbish bins. No Palestinian refused us and accepted with a smile.
In the evening I went to my Arabic lesson. I get a lift with Gershon and Edna Baskin and we had just sat down when we heard a siren. It was faint at first and we looked at one another in bewilderment. Then we heard three loud bangs and realized it was serious. I wondered what was happening in Nofim. I wondered how all these people here, many of whom are less mobile and quick than I am even on the sticks would get down to a shelter. Later I saw the post that one should look for a safe place in your flat as there is very little time between the siren and the fall. So that question is where. My bedroom ….the glass door is next to the bed. The lounge….the windows again. The bathroom….the mirror and the tiles. The corridor is maybe the safest but there are all the painting and photographs in glass. I think the best place for me is next to my door and to put a blanket over myself. I am just sorry for the really old and incapacitated with their carers. We spent the lesson learning all the words necessary for such an occasion. We came home to a quiet night and then all hell broke through. Later: My cleaning lady said I should go and sit on the steps between one floor and another.
Coming back there was an amusing incident. As I got out of the car I saw two girls putting coke tins next to the rubbish and I told them to give them to me. I explained to them what it was for and then the one girl said to me, “Are you from Balfour? Were you at Sheik Jarrar.” And again I know you have all been writing to me to stay home but when two teenagers tell me that they look up to me and for them it is important to see me at these places what can I say? Truly I don’t think I am in any danger. I keep to the sides or anything going on and I doubt that even our violent police would attack an old woman. But whom I am scared of is groups like Lahava or those yesterday on the march of the religious. I feel the hatred around us as I did last night with people calling us haters of Israel and traitors and bitches who fuck Arabs.
Yesterday I went to the doctor as the time has come to deal with a hearing problem I have and then to the DCO which was very quiet. There is a young soldier there who has been very sympathetic towards us and is now being transferred. He brought his replacement out and this I do not put in my report. Nadav says that when he leave the army he will join Breaking the Silence. He said that his replacement is a good fellow so we are hoping that we will have the same relationship with him.
I came home and then went to a play. “The Comedians.” It was very funny but I laughed looking at the audience as it was so appropriate for many of us. From a play by Neil Simon about two once famous comedians who are now uber bottled. When I went out I asked three people to tell the organizer of the transport that I would not be joining them. Later she phoned in anger to ask why I was not on the bus!!! It was so appropriate. I had sat down to phone a friend and when I got up to leave the theatre which was by then pretty deserted I saw a really old lady with her carer sitting outside looking desperate. It turned out that the theatre had ordered a taxi for them and another couple had jumped in and taken it. Being the celebration of Id Il Fitir there were few Arab taxis and they are a large part of the taxis in Jerusalem. In the end I stayed with them until I managed to stop a taxi and put them on the way home. I gave them the number of Gett taxi which is more reliable.
I walked down to the city and stopped at Balfour where some of the stalwarts were sitting. The demonstration at Kikar Zion started off with few people but soon grew. There was no talk of a march but then people did start walking down the main street and also on the tracks of the light train. I did not think that that was a good idea and walked along with them but on the pavement. The police arrived but did nothing. Then we came to Kikar Zion, to the square, where we gathered and in no way were we disturbing pedestrians, the train or anything else. Then the police decided to attack. I think because where we were walking before there were passers by and wanted it to be where they had us to themselves. First of all they started pushing people back but then we saw that they had brought in the dogs and what dogs. Their trainers could hardly control them and the dogs also started fighting amongst themselves. You can understand how dangerous they were. They were real killers. I have no photographs as everything was very volatile there and I did not want to put my sticks down. They also tried to sic them on to some people. Then they came with the horses….enormous . You have no idea. My question is why when we were obstructing traffic did they do nothing but attack us when we were not bothering anyone else.
In the meantime Lahava and the other young fascists had started screaming at us…the police kept us separated but when the police managed to drive us off they left them celebrating in the square.
I always stand to the back at such times but Eitemar who has stood with us at our demonstrations at Nofim refused to leave me and when one of the policemen seemed to be heading straight for us called to him and said that he was standing with me. He is one of those who is very watchful for me but I tell them to go and do their own thing as I do not want to be a drag on anyone. Last night I yelled at them and said that for 81 years I had been looking out for myself and I could still do so. But when the shunk came we were all away.
Natalie
.
1 note
·
View note
Text
AND YOU KNOW WHO GOT THEM
Smaller companies were increasingly able to survive as formerly narrow channels to consumers broadened. They seem to like us too.1 That gets you James Bond, who knows what to do in situations where few others could. What about the more theoretical question of whether hockey would be a bad sign if they weren't; it would be false. And partly a larger part than he would admit that he doesn't want to see.2 The problem is, a lot of the problems change. On the other hand, history is even fuller of examples of parents who thought their kids were wasting their time and who were right. Why didn't Henry Ford realize that networks of cooperating companies work better than a single big company? If you want to slow down, your instinct is to lean back.3
Meetings are like an opiate with a network effect. My guess is that a lot of instincts, this one wasn't designed for fun, and mostly it wasn't. It turns out I have a lot of time on bullshit things or lose to people who do. I get nothing done, because I'm doing stuff that seems, superficially, like real work. In most fields, prototypes have traditionally been made out of different materials. Now a lot of something. The one example I've found is, embarrassingly enough, Yahoo, Google, and Facebook all got started. Nor did they work for big companies not even to try to solve problems and simply not discount weird hunches you have in the process. If you want to prepare yourself to start a startup, the thought of our startups keeps me up at night. A physicist friend recently told me half his department was on Prozac. As with gangs, we have some idea what your prospects might be if you tried to keep someone in as protected an environment as a newborn till age 18.4
Aggregators show how much better you can do to help: Avoid distractions. In short, the disasters this summer were just the usual childhood diseases. And it does seem as if Google was a collaboration. The reason this struck me so forcibly is that for most of what happened in finance too. Buildings to be constructed from stone were tested on a smaller scale in wood. One might worry this would prevent people from expressing controversial ideas, but a leading indicator.5 To some extent this was because the companies themselves had become sclerotic.6 How can you tell if you're up to it, the only way to get an accurate drawing is not to spend it having fun, you know you're being self-indulgent. Advising people and writing are fundamentally different types of problems—wisdom to human problems and intelligence to abstract ones. In fact, we were surprised how much time I spent making introductions. What a solitary task startups are.
Apple are doing so much better than Microsoft today. It will take more experience to know for sure, but my guess is that a lot of time on them have to be learned, and are sometimes fairly counterintuitive. Having coffee with a friend matters. Notice I said what they need, not what they want. Palm and RIM haven't a hope. You can see it in old photos. They want to get rich. As one of the things startups do right without realizing it.
Developments in finance, communications, transportation, and manufacturing enabled a new type of company whose goal was above all scale. That form of fragmentation, like the chemical elements. That way we can avoid being discontented about being discontented. And that means other questions aren't. I began with, that it doesn't matter much; it will change anyway. And we have to tell them the best way to begin may not be to write a prototype that solves a subset of a bigger problem you're trying to solve: how to have a remedial character. So by studying the intended users include the designer himself.7 I finally figured out something I've wondered about for 25 years: the relationship between wisdom and intelligence. This article is derived from a keynote talk at the fall 2002 meeting of NEPLS. But you yourself are the most important things to remember about divorce, one of which is: You shouldn't put the blame on one parent, because divorce is never only one person's fault. In 1995, writing software for end users was effectively identical with writing Windows applications. Once an essay has had a couple thousand page views I feel reasonably confident about it.
You won't feel later like that was a waste of time. Practically everyone thinks that someone who went to private schools or wished they did started to dress preppy, and kids who wanted to seem rebellious made a conscious effort to think of startup ideas, the ideas you come up with will not merely be bad, but bad specifically in the sense of not having gone to the college you'd have liked is your own feeling that you're thereby lacking something. Within Y Combinator, which is more than they paid him. What was really happening was de-oligopolization. I mean business can learn from open source: that people working for money, but also everyone who aspired to it—which in the middle of the century our two big forces intersect, in the now pointless secrecy of the Masons. At the very least we have to go pretty far down the list of colleges before you stop finding smart professors in the math department. If Christmas-as-magic lasts from say ages 3 to 10, you only have to keep the peace. Good new ideas come from earnest, energetic, and independent-minded. If the world were static, we could just program in machine language. The reason, I realized, more from internal evidence than any outside source, that the ideas we were being fed on TV were crap, and I am self-indulgent in the sense of being an insider. If you want to start startups hope universities can teach them about startups if they were merely hiring people.8 100,000 people worked there.
Notes
The other reason they pay a lot of the whole fund.
The amusing thing is, it would have seemed to Aristotle the core: the resources they expend on the Daddy Model and reality is the kind that prevents you from starving.
Joe Gebbia needed Airbnb? It's lame that VCs play such games, books, newspapers, or pigs, to the environment. You may not have raised money at first had two parts: the energy they emit encourages other ambitious people together. The mere possibility of being absorbed by the size of the current edition, which are a small proportion of spam, but all they demand from art is brand, and so don't deserve to keep the next round.
How did individuals accumulate large fortunes in an industrialized country encounters the idea of getting rich, purely mercenary founders will seem as if having good intentions were enough to absorb that. So the cost can be times when what you're doing. Investors are fine with funding nerds. In a country with a potential acquirer unless you want to know about a week for 19 years, it becomes an advantage to be about 50%.
Believe me, I should add that none who read this to be very promising, because a part has come unscrewed, you have to do that. Mueller, Friedrich M. Ideas are one of the world. As well as good ones don't even try.
Few technologies have one clear inventor. I paint someone's house, the best new startups.
With the good groups, you have to want to create a silicon valley in Israel. For example, if you don't, you're using a degenerate case of Bayes' Rule.
The continuing popularity of religion is the odds are slightly more interesting than later ones, it will seem like noise. I'm talking here about which is something inexperienced founders. Letter to Ottoline Morrell, December 1912.
#automatically generated text#Markov chains#Paul Graham#Python#Patrick Mooney#relationship#startups#effort#matters#example#founders#Facebook#newspapers#designer#hope#evidence#way#sup#intentions#time#situations#till#instinct#disasters#parents#Developments#people
1 note
·
View note
Text
Events 11.21
164 BCE – Judas Maccabeus, son of Mattathias of the Hasmonean family, restores the Temple in Jerusalem. This event is commemorated each year by the festival of Hanukkah. 235 – Pope Anterus succeeds Pontian as the nineteenth pope. During the persecutions of emperor Maximinus Thrax he is martyred. 1009 – Lý Công Uẩn is enthroned as emperor of Đại Cồ Việt, founding the Lý dynasty. 1386 – Timur of Samarkand captures and sacks the Georgian capital of Tbilisi, taking King Bagrat V of Georgia captive. 1620 – Plymouth Colony settlers sign the Mayflower Compact (November 11, O.S.) 1676 – The Danish astronomer Ole Rømer presents the first quantitative measurements of the speed of light. 1783 – In Paris, Jean-François Pilâtre de Rozier and François Laurent d'Arlandes, make the first untethered hot air balloon flight. 1789 – North Carolina ratifies the United States Constitution and is admitted as the 12th U.S. state. 1861 – American Civil War: Confederate President Jefferson Davis appoints Judah Benjamin Secretary of War. 1877 – Thomas Edison announces his invention of the phonograph, a machine that can record and play sound. 1894 – Port Arthur, China, falls to the Japanese, a decisive victory of the First Sino-Japanese War; Japanese troops are accused of massacring the remaining inhabitants. 1902 – The Philadelphia Football Athletics defeated the Kanaweola Athletic Club of Elmira, New York, 39–0, in the first ever professional American football night game. 1905 – Albert Einstein's paper that leads to the mass–energy equivalence formula, E = mc², is published in the journal Annalen der Physik. 1910 – Sailors on board Brazil's warships including the Minas Gerais, São Paulo, and Bahia, violently rebel in what is now known as the Revolta da Chibata (Revolt of the Lash). 1916 – Mines from SM U-73 sink the HMHS Britannic, the largest ship lost in the First World War. 1918 – The Flag of Estonia, previously used by pro-independence activists, is formally adopted as the national flag of the Republic of Estonia. 1918 – The Parliament (Qualification of Women) Act 1918 is passed, allowing women to stand for Parliament in the UK. 1918 – A pogrom takes place in Lwów (now Lviv); over three days, at least 50 Jews and 270 Ukrainian Christians are killed by Poles. 1920 – Irish War of Independence: In Dublin, 31 people are killed in what became known as "Bloody Sunday". 1922 – Rebecca Latimer Felton of Georgia takes the oath of office, becoming the first female United States Senator. 1927 – Columbine Mine massacre: Striking coal miners are allegedly attacked with machine guns by a detachment of state police dressed in civilian clothes. 1942 – The completion of the Alaska Highway (also known as the Alcan Highway) is celebrated (however, the highway is not usable by standard road vehicles until 1943). 1944 – World War II: American submarine USS Sealion sinks the Japanese battleship Kongō and Japanese destroyer Urakaze in the Formosa Strait. 1945 – The United Auto Workers strike 92 General Motors plants in 50 cities to back up worker demands for a 30-percent raise. 1950 – Two Canadian National Railway trains collide in northeastern British Columbia in the Canoe River train crash; the death toll is 21, with 17 of them Canadian troops bound for Korea. 1953 – The Natural History Museum, London announces that the "Piltdown Man" skull, initially believed to be one of the most important fossilized hominid skulls ever found, is a hoax. 1959 – American disc jockey Alan Freed, who had popularized the term "rock and roll" and music of that style, is fired from WABC radio over allegations he had participated in the payola scandal. 1961 – The "La Ronde" opens in Honolulu, first revolving restaurant in the United States. 1962 – The Chinese People's Liberation Army declares a unilateral ceasefire in the Sino-Indian War. 1964 – The Verrazano-Narrows Bridge opens to traffic. At the time it is the world's longest bridge span. 1964 – Second Vatican Council: The third session of the Roman Catholic Church's ecumenical council closes. 1967 – Vietnam War: American General William Westmoreland tells news reporters: "I am absolutely certain that whereas in 1965 the enemy was winning, today he is certainly losing." 1969 – U.S. President Richard Nixon and Japanese Premier Eisaku Satō agree on the return of Okinawa to Japanese control in 1972. The U.S. retains rights to bases on the island, but these are to be nuclear-free. 1969 – The first permanent ARPANET link is established between UCLA and SRI. 1970 – Vietnam War: Operation Ivory Coast: A joint United States Air Force and Army team raids the Sơn Tây prisoner-of-war camp in an attempt to free American prisoners of war thought to be held there. 1971 – Indian troops, partly aided by Mukti Bahini (Bengali guerrillas), defeat the Pakistan army in the Battle of Garibpur. 1972 – Voters in South Korea overwhelmingly approve a new constitution, giving legitimacy to Park Chung-hee and the Fourth Republic. 1974 – The Birmingham pub bombings kill 21 people. The Birmingham Six are sentenced to life in prison for the crime but subsequently acquitted. 1977 – Minister of Internal Affairs Allan Highet announces that the national anthems of New Zealand shall be the traditional anthem "God Save the Queen" and "God Defend New Zealand". 1979 – The United States Embassy in Islamabad, Pakistan, is attacked by a mob and set on fire, killing four. 1980 – A deadly fire breaks out at the MGM Grand Hotel in Paradise, Nevada (now Bally's Las Vegas). Eighty-seven people are killed and more than 650 are injured in the worst disaster in Nevada history. 1985 – United States Navy intelligence analyst Jonathan Pollard is arrested for spying after being caught giving Israel classified information on Arab nations. He is subsequently sentenced to life in prison. 1986 – National Security Council member Oliver North and his secretary start to shred documents allegedly implicating them in the Iran–Contra affair. 1992 – A major tornado strikes the Houston, Texas area during the afternoon. Over the next two days the largest tornado outbreak ever to occur in the US during November spawns over 100 tornadoes. 1995 – The Dayton Agreement is initialed at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, near Dayton, Ohio, ending three and a half years of war in Bosnia and Herzegovina. 1996 – Humberto Vidal explosion: Thirty-three people die when a Humberto Vidal shoe shop in Río Piedras, Puerto Rico explodes. 2002 – NATO invites Bulgaria, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Romania, Slovakia and Slovenia to become members. 2002 – Arturo Guzmán Decena, founder of Los Zetas and high-member of the Gulf Cartel, was killed in a shoot-out with the Mexican Army and the police. 2004 – The second round of the Ukrainian presidential election is held, giving rise to massive protests and controversy over the election's integrity. 2004 – Dominica is hit by the most destructive earthquake in its history. The northern half of the island sustains the most damage, especially the town of Portsmouth. In neighboring Guadeloupe, one person is killed. 2004 – The Paris Club agrees to write off 80% (up to $100 billion) of Iraq's external debt. 2006 – Anti-Syrian Lebanese politician and government minister Pierre Gemayel is assassinated in suburban Beirut. 2009 – A mine explosion in Heilongjiang, China kills 108. 2012 – At least 28 are wounded after a bomb is thrown onto a bus in Tel Aviv. 2013 – Fifty-four people are killed when the roof of a shopping center collapses in Riga, Latvia. 2013 – Massive protests start in Ukraine after President Viktor Yanukovych suspended signing the Ukraine–European Union Association Agreement. 2014 – A stampede in Kwekwe, Zimbabwe caused by the police firing tear gas kills at least eleven people and injures 40 others. 2015 – The government of Belgium imposed a security lockdown on Brussels, including the closure of shops, schools, public transportation, due to potential terrorist attacks. 2017 – Robert Mugabe formally resigns as President of Zimbabwe, after thirty-seven years in office. 2019 – Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu is indicted on charges of bribery, fraud, and breach of trust.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
November 21, 2020: 2:47 pm:
I have some foul speculation I want to say, something I have mentioned before, but not in detail, just in passing with other terror comm.
Recent space station news sparks a recollection to say more.
I suspect strongly that the Capitula window design was intentional made to fail, causing an air leak, one that was not found, and the astronauts aboard the ISS all perished, are still up there, inside of a space sarcophagus floating around up there.
I’ll keep this short, it’s very dangerous to say this.
The design elements of the Capitula window includes that there are manually operated Venetian blinds that are on the outside of the space craft. The astronauts need to close the blinds for reasons that I don’t know, maybe direct sun light is too warm inside the window there, so, a means to keep direct sun out was provided. The manual blind handles actually pass through the wall of the space craft. There is only one O ring there to seal the craft at each of the many manual handles. Those O rings are also designed as a bearing surface on which those control arms turn to close and open the Venetian blinds.
I anticipate some problems with that design.
The repeated turning of the handles will make wear & tear on the O rings, it’s not rocket science to know that it’s a bad idea to put holes in a space craft. A leak is eventual, it will leak at some point, even if the handles are not turned. A stationary gasket between surfaces does not have the same forces as an O-ring bearing does, placed on it, so other gaskets on the space craft that are not part of moving objects that pass through the walls, will last much longer.
There is numerous indications of foul play contained in the space concert performed by the Canadian astronaut that I linked the other day.
Some things to consider while watching the space concert are:
He is wearing bright red. Passion Play statement there.
He has a Guitar, an Ax, and plays it.
The song is about a window on the space station.
The Canadian has a way of habitually touching the floating guitar as he is talking to the students on Music Monday, in Canada. (”habit touch”; “sabotage”. It’s subtle, but it needs to be subtle for a astronaut to say the arrangements were made at the handles for the Venetian Blinds.)
There is a place at the end of the video when Mission Control says that they want the astronaut to “play out” as the concert is ended. Then, when he does “play out”, there is no sound, only the sound from Mission Control is heard as we see the astronaut is playing the guitar. Speculation is, that Mission Control wanted a little more detail about the progress at the sabotage at the Capitula. The told him “Play Out”. That means “Act it Out”, so he turns off the microphone, plays guitar, but there is no sound coming from the space craft. Silence on the ISS is what he acted out, with an ax, while wearing bright red and singing about a space window.
There are other clues. Something that looks like a scan code is on the guitar, a sticker on the backside of the guitar.
The guitar floats around, spinning slowly, is controlled with habitual touch to stay put, continuously spinning under control.
There is a part when a Canadian student asks about playing guitar in space, and the Space Canadian Axtronaut explains the hard part is holding on to it, the strap won‘t work in space, he says. He tells that it’s like playing a guitar that is floating by as he tries to play. An Air-Guitar Axeman Extraordinaire, is the Canadian Axtronaut.
There are some rubbery looking wires there dangling around near the Velcro table where the microphone gets stuck to so he can perform.
I don’t see any reference to the Venetian Blinds, but I’ll wager that there is reference to them that I did not find yet.
One more thing is from other space information on a different interview by the same Space Canadian who is very friendly, knowledgeable, likeable fellow is that he explained some other time, that water is not transported in large quantities to the ISS, it’s too heavy, he said. So, everything they use is recycled as much as possible. The astronauts recycle their own urine back into fresh water, he explained, so they have water to drink.
Space Urinaid?
Tang?
Urine is what a Golden Shower is made from. It’s a Guilded statement.
Urine = Pee = P
Urinaid = P-aid = Paid for a golden opportunity ... Opera-Tune-ity. Italian Opera by a Vanetian Operative at the Capitula Theater aboard the International Space Station.
The result, is a enormous space program profit center that is perpetuated as a real space program, to bring scientists into space for learning about Earth, while the truth is that the last mission that was successful was more than twelve years ago. Since that time, the scientists aboard the ISS from that time are all dead, the space craft is a Space Crypt now, is not operational, has holes in the side, is like a 1958 Buick that way, and the money that is allahted for space programs is diverted to terror operations while SAG uses movie magic to fake everyone out.
The Eastwood Guitars Rockerbox model, is a further clue to the planning of the Capitula window sabotage that started with intentionally designing a bogus design for the window that is like a 1958 Buick, has holes in the side.
I designed the Eastwood Rockerbox in around 1998-2002-ish while held captive, forced to design things. I designed it based on a 1958 Buick.
Someone else needs to take over with the Canadian Space Concert Air-Guitar Concert Inspection from there.
Additional 5:47 pm:
For a more globally, generalized look at this Capitula Air-Guitar event, there is something about the way the guitar the Canadian Axtronaut makes the guitar spin around slowly that immediately made me recall that early forms of terror communication from years ago, were sometimes based on the idea that you can capture an insect, and keep it in a jar for observation. I think most children have captured a bug and kept in a jar for awhile. Ant Farm’s and other special containers are sold at stores exactly for that. Terror comm is like a bug jar sometimes.
The reason I say this, is because the guitar spins the same kind of way that is present in an old video game I used to play with my kids called “Bugs Life”, is based on a cartoon of the same name. In the game, there are some coins you need to collect as you control your Ant character around the Bug’s Life playing field, which you could say, is a jar with a Ant inside on the video screen going around collecting coins. The guitar spins in the same way as the coins do in the Bug’s Life Game.
The symbolism presented with that if it could be shown to actually have a connection to the Air-Guitar at the Space Station Capitula Venetian Blinds Control Arm O-Ring Sagotage is like Bugs in a jar in space without any air to breath. I am imagining a lot of Rock Stars, Actors, Public Officials who gather at Mission Control whenever a new group of scientist astronauts is sent up to the ISS, and they watch on the video feed as the astronaut scientist arrivals enter the ISS to find that there is no oxygen, the previous crew is all floating around dead, and there is no way to get out of the space bug jar.
SAG terrorists get off on that kind of thing, especially the ones from Europe.
I have already explained much about killing contraptions made for entertainment of entertainers who gather and watch as victims are horribly murdered with a variety of contraptions that are specially made for the act of killing people for entertainment, so, I suggest that the SAG space station is still used to send astronauts to on occasion, but it’s a Space Bug Jar now, the entertainment happens while they watch from Mission Control, for profit, maybe video feeds are sold to SAG members to watch from their homes, and the corner bar in Hollywood, The Whisky-a-Go-Go, The Troubadour and The Brown Derby.
If you look for insect in a jar terror comm, you will find insect in a jar terror comm. Don‘t be too surprised when the terror is about a Jar Head in a jar. I already told you enough times about that kind of thing, you should have stopped that by now... I am talking to you, US national Security here. Do your job.
3:46 pm.
This is the Eastwood Bucklund Rockerbox I designed based on a 1958 Buick.
https://eastwoodguitars.com/collections/guitars
I designed a number of the guitars at the Eastwood webpage while held captive, forced to design things at gunpoint.
3 notes
·
View notes