#London best pest master

[pestmastersuk]

Insect Control Service London

Your Ultimate Solution to Pest-Free Living

Insects control service london are an unavoidable part of life, but when they invade your home or business, they can cause chaos and discomfort. From ants and cockroaches to bed bugs and fleas, insects can not only damage property but also pose health risks to you and your loved ones. If you're dealing with an insect infestation in London, Pest Masters offers effective, environmentally friendly, and affordable insect control services to restore peace and safety to your property.

Insects are an unavoidable part of life, but when they invade your home or business, they can cause chaos and discomfort. From ants and cockroaches to bed bugs and fleas, insects can not only damage property but also pose health risks to you and your loved ones. If you're dealing with an insect infestation in London, Pest Masters offers effective, environmentally friendly, and affordable insect control services to restore peace and safety to your property.

Why Choose Pest Masters for Insect Control in London?

Expert Technicians: Our skilled pest control experts are fully trained to handle a wide range of insect infestations. With years of experience, we know exactly how to deal with the unique challenges insects pose in urban settings

Fast, Discreet Service: We understand the need for privacy and efficiency. Our team works quickly and discreetly, ensuring minimal disruption to your daily life or business operations.

Eco-Friendly Solutions: We use environmentally friendly products that are safe for your family, pets, and the environment, while still providing powerful results against insect infestations.

Comprehensive Approach: From identifying the source of the infestation to offering long-term preventative measures, we provide complete insect control solutions tailored to your needs.

Types of Insects We Control

Ants: One of the most common pests, ants can infiltrate your home, seeking food and water. Our team will locate and treat the source of the infestation, preventing ants from returning.

Cockroaches: Cockroaches are known to spread bacteria and allergens. Our specialists target the areas where these pests hide and breed to eliminate the problem at the root.

Bed Bugs: Bed bugs can cause sleepless nights and severe discomfort. We use heat treatment and targeted pesticides to remove bed bugs from your home, ensuring a safe and peaceful environment.

Fleas: Often brought in by pets, fleas can quickly multiply and create health risks. Our flea treatments focus on removing them from both your home and your pets, ensuring a thorough solution.

Wasps & Hornets: These flying insects can be dangerous, especially when their nests are disturbed. Our team handles wasp and hornet nests safely, removing them without putting you or your property at risk.

Silverfish & Moths: These pests can damage clothing and textiles. We offer treatment options to keep your home free of these destructive insects.

Inspection: Our pest control experts begin with a thorough inspection of your property. We identify signs of infestation, locate hiding spots, and determine the best course of action.

Treatment Plan: Based on the type of insect and the extent of the infestation, we develop a customized treatment plan. We use a variety of methods, such as sprays, traps, and eco-friendly treatments, to ensure effective results.

Treatment Application: Our team applies the treatments carefully, targeting all affected areas. We prioritize safety and make sure that no harmful chemicals are left behind.

Prevention: After the insects are removed, we help prevent future infestations by sealing entry points, advising on best practices for cleanliness, and offering follow-up inspections.

Follow-up: We offer follow-up visits to ensure that the problem has been completely resolved and that your property remains insect-free.

Common Signs of an Insect Infestation

Visible Insects: The most obvious sign, such as seeing ants, cockroaches, or flies regularly.

Damaged Property: Insects like termites or woodlice can cause significant damage to your property. You may notice holes in furniture or walls.

Unpleasant Odors: A sudden, unusual smell could indicate the presence of insects like bed bugs or cockroaches.

Allergic Reactions: Some insects, like dust mites or fleas, can trigger allergic reactions or rashes in sensitive individuals.

Increased Activity: Finding insects or signs of them around food sources, pet areas, or high-traffic spaces.

Visible Insects: The most obvious sign, such as seeing ants, cockroaches, or flies regularly.

Damaged Property: Insects like termites or woodlice can cause significant damage to your property. You may notice holes in furniture or walls.

Unpleasant Odors: A sudden, unusual smell could indicate the presence of insects like bed bugs or cockroaches.

Allergic Reactions: Some insects, like dust mites or fleas, can trigger allergic reactions or rashes in sensitive individuals.

Increased Activity: Finding insects or signs of them around food sources, pet areas, or high-traffic spaces.

Insects like ants, cockroaches, bed bugs, and fleas can cause damage, discomfort, and health risks. Pest Masters offers effective, eco-friendly insect control services to eliminate infestations and restore safety to your property in London.

[ajoytobeheld]

I threw all my friends in the river

August 14th, 2009

August 13th, my day for the van mix CD, on our drive from Kansas City, Missouri to Austin, Texas.

I Threw All My Friends In The River

-Guess Who’s Been On Match Of The Day – Frank Sidebottom- Nights Wave – Mice Parade All The King’s Men – Wild Beasts The Negatives… – Hood Dreams – Former Ghosts Hit The Ground Running – Superkings -Puff ‘N’ Blow – Frank Sidebottom- Emotional Levy – the Aislers Set Just Wait ‘Til Next Year – John Maus -Mexico ’90 – Frank Sidebottom- Flying Things And Pests – Nosferatu D2 Blindspot/Invisible Bend – Meanwhile, Back In Communist Russia… Smirenye – Zola Jesus Do Not Be Afraid – Mount Eerie I Am Not Surprised – the Organ Sad Girl – Ten In The Swear Jar Ghost Dream – Hymie’s Basement Winter Takes A Lover - Lovers -Another Fantastic Banjo Sting – Frank Sidebottom- The Perfect Gentleman – the Broken Family Band

Some Notes:

After my CD, our guitar tech, Avel asked me “Is this stuff you would actually listen to at home on your own, or did you put it on to make us laugh?”. I don’t know if this was strictly in reference to the Frank Sidebottom stuff, but I really hope so.

The inclusion of Nights Wave was a bold one, I think. It’s about a minute longer than I’d like to be, but it’s an incredibly beautiful song. Reminds me a lot of my first year of university and has a beautiful set of lyrics. The contrast between the male and female vocals is incredible. Female vox provided by Kristín Anna Valtýsdóttir who used to be in múm.

Just realised that Hood track reminds me completely of the same period of time. Am I being accidentally nostalgic? I reviewed this single for my student magazine. Then realised I was a shit writer and had to start a band instead.

This Former Ghosts track is the proper version that’s gonna be on the album. Freddy sent it me, and I am so excited to hear the full length. From all the demos I’ve heard, it’s gonna be hard for it not to be my album of the year.

Just Wait Til Next Year is the best, most accurate love song ever written.

Nosferatu D2 are one of my favourite bands of all time, and it’s a huge shame that they’re no longer together and that they didn’t achieve more whilst they were. Some of the best, most hateful lyrics you’ll ever hear. We had the pleasure of playing with them at their last ever show in 2007, at London’s Spitz venue. Ben now releases music under the name Superman Revenge Squad

Smirenye – taken from the most recent Zola Jesus record, The Spoils. Quite possibly my favourite release of the year so far.

Winter Takes A Lover – My friend Zac Pennington made me a mix with this song on it. I don’t know anything else by the band, but you know when you hear something so perfect that you’re worried if you hear anything else by the same band, and it’s shit, then it’ll ruin it for you? This is my fear. Same goes for the song Hit The Ground Running, the most beautiful ode to loveless sex I’ve ever heard.

And the Broken Family Band are one of the most consistently under appreciated UK bands of my generation.

Ten In The Swear Jar was Jamie Stewart’s last band before Xiu Xiu. This is a really great version of the song Sad Pony Guerilla Girl. It’s less electronically instrumented and the bass line is sickkkkk.

All this, joined together by our master of ceremonies, Frank Sidebottom.

[faustiandevil]

Found the article where the Film Archive got the photos from and decided to translate it. Please note that I’m no translator by any means and I left notes where I struggled.

“I don’t get why such a good kid always plays villains in Hollywood?” – asks Peter Lorre’s father in Budapest

Warner Oland’s Charlie Chan got an interesting rival in the form of Mr. Moto. Mr. Moto the Japanese master detective is the hero of a new novel and movie series, and is played by our old friend, Peter Lorre, who few may know is actually Hungarian and his family still resides in Pest.

- He was my most serious son, I never would have expected him to become an actor – tells us Mr. Löwenstein, Peter Lorre’s papa. – He graduated in Vienna with honors and I enrolled him into the academy (it says keresekedelmi akadémia, which is for trade, merchant academy, but I couldn’t find like the correct translation for it so I just left it as academy). This is the first time when Lacika (this is Peter Lorre’s nickname at home) tells me that he wants to become an actor. I replied, that at least work in a civilian field for two years, and if you don’t like it, then I don’t mind…

- Lord, Laci was a genius banker – continues the papa his story – after six months he became the head of the foreign exchange branch in the English-Austria bank. There were ten phones in his room, he was headed of such a great career, but when the two years were over, he took his hat and left the bank. He didn’t even take his last month’s salary… Then he became an actor. For long years he fought, and acted in smaller German stages (again the translation is not precise, because it says vidéki which is like village, but can be used for smaller towns as well, so I just opted for smaller stages instead), until he was discovered. He had great successes in Berlin when he started in movies. His first success came from the movie “Bombs on Monte Carlo”, for me – for his father – I liked him best in “F.P.1”.

Mr. Löwenstein also said that Laci got married in London and together with his wife set out to Hollywood. I also have to tell him stories, as Peter Lorre very seldom writes back home. He doesn’t like to write, once a year he does and for the papa’s birthday. But with cable he isn’t thrifty, and phones very often.

- I just don’t get – ponders Mr. Löwenstein – that how can such a good kid always play villains in Hollywood?

Peter Lorre finally got rid of the villainous roles. Instead he became Mr. Moto, the Japanese master detective, a master of jiu-jitsu, and the enemy of all bad guys. The character only lived in books so far. In America the adventures of Mr. Moto are currently rivaling the popularity of the Sherlock Holmes books. From the book series the first movie was completed. It’s title: “Think Fast, Mr. Moto”.

Peter Lorre has such success in the role, that each month they are filming a new Mr. Moto movie with him. After this he will have even less time to write, for the birthdays of Mr. Löwenstein he will probably start phoning instead as well.

Original article by Emil Balázs.

Text under images:

Peter Lorre with his father. The picture was taken in 1921, when the Hungarian Hollywood star was last in Pest.

Childhood picture from the family album: Laci (on the right) and his three siblings.

Thomas Beck, Virginia Field and Peter Lorre in “Think Fast, Mr. Moto”.

Mr. Moto (Peter Lorre) helps his Chinese acting partner out of a Shanghai rickshaw.

(Source: Színházi Élet 1937, 46)

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 4: 1987 Australian Tour

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. Unlike previous parts, this one is not focused on any official libretto changes affecting all productions of the musical. Rather, it looks at a set of changes applied specifically to the 1987-1991 Australian tour. While the tour mostly followed the normal 1987 libretto discussed in the last part of this blog, it did add a few unique touches that are worth discussing here. Many would never make it outside of this particular production; however, a few would in fact be used in later productions of the musical too. Without further ado, let's get started!

The first change I am aware of is in the prologue. Usually the Bishop tells Valjean, "Now God's blessings be with you". In the Australian tour, he instead states "May God's blessings be with you". Not a big edit, but an edit nonetheless.

The next change comes at the beginning of "Lovely Ladies". While originally a sailor sings that "seven days at sea will make you hungry for a poke", the Australian tour switches this to "seven weeks at sea". I suppose this would be a more realistic timeframe for a sailor at the time to be away, and it also makes him come across as slightly less desperate. Having said that, the original sense of desperation fits the mood of the number perfectly.

The very next scene, "Fantine's Arrest", also has a very slight change. While usually Valjean requests "A moment of your time, Javert, I do believe this woman's tale", the word order is swapped so that he instead asks "Javert, a moment of your time, I do believe this woman's tale" in the Australian tour. Not a huge change, nor do I quite know what it was supposed to accomplish, but interesting nonetheless.

In "Who Am I?" Valjean usually asks regarding his workers, "How will they live if I am not free?" The Australian tour changes this slightly to "How will they fare if I am not free?" This slightly changes the mood from a life-or-death situation to a more subtle question of looking out for others' well-being, though it's not a huge difference.

Then, after "Who Am I?" a bit of spoken dialog is added for this tour. Perhaps in acknowledgement of the "You know where to find me!" used in the West End at the time, Valjean shouts "You will find me at the hospital St. John!" after his high note. Similar in spirit to the mostly-scrapped original declaration, though now he doesn't actually trust Javert to figure out his location (which makes more sense to me than the original).

The preamble to "Master of the House" mixes up the genders regarding the bar crowd's lines. First off is the opener, which usually goes as follows:

(FEMALE PATRON)

C'mon you old pest

(MALE PATRON)

Fetch a bottle of your best

(MALE PATRON)

What's the nectar of the day?

In the Australian tour, this is how it goes:

(MALE PATRON)

C'mon you old pest

(MALE PATRON)

Fetch a bottle of your best

(FEMALE PATRON)

What's the nectar of the day?

Usually this was how a later part went:

(MALE PATRON)

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

(FEMALE PATRON)

Just one more

Or my old man is gonna do me in

The Australian tour swapped the sexes of some of those lines, leading to a slightly different final lyric:

(MALE PATRON)

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

(FEMALE PATRON)

One more slug of gin

(MALE PATRON)

Just one more

Or her old man is gonna do her in

The ending to the "Waltz of Treachery" has an interesting lyrical edit. Usually Valjean proclaims the following:

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

There's a castle just waiting for you

However, the Australian tour gave him this line instead:

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

A world of surprises is waiting for you

This gives a much more general promise to Cosette, and is a less direct response to her "Will there be children and castles to see?" question. I'm not sure which I prefer to be honest.

A very small change occurs during "Look Down"; namely, a line originally sung by the ensemble is now sung by just one person. Originally this is how the sequence goes:

(BEGGARS)

See our children fed

Help us in our shame

Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name

(SOLO BEGGAR)

In the Lord's holy name

(BEGGARS)

In His name, in His name, in His name

However, for the Australian tour, "Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name" is sung by one single beggar woman (who is distinct from the beggar woman who sings "In the Lord's holy name"). This change would be adapted into the official libretto much later to account for a staging change in which the beggar singing the line walks by Marius and Enjolras to ask them specifically for some extra cash (as opposed to asking for help more rhetorically, as was originally the implication). I'm curious as to whether or not the Australian tour used a similar staging difference earlier on, or if there was some other reason to make the line an individual one.

A few changes are made to "The Robbery". First off, Thenardier tells Valjean "God rewards all the things that you do" as opposed to the normal line, "God rewards all the good that you do". I slightly prefer the original, though it's not a huge difference.

Finally, Eponine's "It's the p'lice, disappear, run for it, it's Javert!" is bizarrely changed to the rather repetitive "It's the p'lice, disappear, it's the p'lice, it's Javert!" I have no clue what this was supposed to accomplish, because it makes the line far messier than it was before. Perhaps this was the intention, in order to highlight Eponine's unrefined self? Though that doesn't seem particularly relevant to the scene... who knows.

Some significant changes occur during "Stars". Not long after the song's start, Javert's declaration is changed from its original:

A fugitive running

Fallen from grace, fallen from grace

Into the less repetitive:

A fugitive running

Fallen from God, fallen from grace

Personally, I have a soft spot for the original repetition, but i do understand why some would prefer the Lord's name being used instead of the vaguer concept of grace.

Soon afterwards, a few conjunctions are removed. Originally Javert declares:

He knows his way in the dark

But mine is the way of the Lord

And those who follow the path of the righteous will have their reward

However, the Australian production (and the London production not long afterwards) simplified the sequence to:

He knows his way in the dark

Mine is the way of the Lord

Those who follow the path of the righteous will have their reward

I suppose the conjunction-free variant is likely to be easier to sing, since the lyrics are a little less rushed. This variant also separates the lines so that they come across as separate sentences, instead of one long run-on one. However, it does slightly bug me that the later line "And each in its season returns..." maintains its conjunction while the opening verse does not. That strikes me as somewhat inconsistent.

By far my favorite change to "Stars" happens towards the end. Originally, Javert sings:

And so it has been

And so it is written

On the doorway to paradise...

However, the Australian production changes the first line in the sequence:

And so it must be

For so it is written

On the doorway to paradise...

The revised line is much more dramatic and forceful, and makes Javert's final promise all the more powerful. It also sounds less passive, which seems more appropriate for Javert's character.

Philip Quast, who originated the role of Javert in Australia and later returned in 1991, changed the line "We'll be ready for these schoolboys" into "I will join these little schoolboys" during "One Day More". This line arguably makes his intentions a bit clearer, though it carries less threatening implications than the original lyric. Interestingly, however, Quast's replacements in the tour revert to the original line.

A very slight change occurs in "Drink with Me". Instead of Grantaire's "Can it be your death means nothing at all?" he asks "Could it be your death means nothing at all?"

Something weird happens during "Dog Eats Dog". For whatever reason, instead of the usual musical interlude that plays as Valjean carries Marius through the sewers, a similar but slightly different (and in my opinion inferior) variant plays instead. It sounds quite messy in my opinion. I wonder whether or not there was some difference in staging to inspire this different version of the music, or if someone inexplicably just thought it sounded better?

Similarly, the usual music that plays as the Thenardiers awkwardly feign sophistication during the wedding scene is given another in my opinion less polished edit. Nothing much to say here that I haven't said in the context of the last change.

One of the more impactful changes in the long run comes in the epilogue. Originally Fantine and Eponine sung the following line together:

Take my hand

And lead me to salvation

However, the Australian tour gave them the following line instead:

Take my hand

I'll lead you to salvation

This makes a lot more sense, since they have been dead for years and only now is Valjean joining them. Some have argued that because Valjean has become the epitome of good, an almost Christ-like figure, it ends up that he continues to save people even after they have passed away, hence the original lyric. I personally don't buy this at all. I think Fantine and Eponine were clearly good people doing the best they could, and if they still need an outside influence to be considered worthy of salvation that speaks quite poorly of whatever God may exist! The revised line is far better in my opinion, and fortunately it would become the standard worldwide in a few years.

And that just about sums this part up! (Man, it feels good to make such a short, easy post after the hours that went into the last one!) If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

[blitheringmcgonagall]

The New Sailing Master

Another day in lockdown so may as well post this here:

(A silly Wolfstar pirate AU in which all that happens as I told @malfoy is that Remus meets everyone and then they (Wolfstar) snog...)

“Good Lord, he’s damned cute.”

The voice is smooth, smooth and polished, and dangerous, and he sounds like a Lord.

“He’s half drowned.”

Another voice, nearly as posh, but mischievous and warm.

“Still thoroughly dashing,” the posh fellow states, with finality, as though he’s used to getting his own way, as though he’s the boss.

“Fuck off, twat,” the second bloke says carelessly, laughing, as though he thrives on annoying the first bloke. “I bet he thinks you’re an idiot.”

“Captains are never idiots, Prongs!” Poshest Bloke says in a scandalised voice. “By default, they are always intelligent, resourceful and sexy.”

A group of female voices cackle loudly, sounding like they are falling around the deck laughing.

“Ha ha, hilarious, Marlene,” he replies sarcastically. “Are you implying I’m lacking any of those qualities, you pest?”

He sounds like he’s smiling though.

“Nope!” a rich, confident drawl. “I’m implying you’re too easy to tease. It’s such fun, and we’re so bored!”

More merry laughter, and the sound of bottles clinking.

“Fuck you, Mc Kinnon!” the posh voice is definitely amused, and he can’t help being annoyed with himself for finding it so attractive.

He hates rich bastards.

“It’s nearly as much fun as teasing the Quartermaster.”

This voice sounds very close to him, it’s cheeky and her laughter is infectious. The accent is familiar, local, Jamaican perhaps?

He smiles.

“By Jove! He’s awake!”

He opens his eyes and blinks repeatedly. He’s staring up at a pair of startlingly beautiful grey eyes, the colour of sunlight glinting off calm seas, a rugged half-smile, a raised eyebrow, wet black hair cascading onto broad, tanned shoulders, though his skin will burn in the midday sun. It should be illegal to be so handsome.

“Fuck,” he rasps, attempting to sit and coughing up copious salt water.

Handsome Bloke clears his throat, looking concerned.

“There, there!” Cheeky Voice says behind him, giving him three hard slaps on the back. “That’s better!”

“Thanks,” he says croakily, turning around to look at her.

She has beautiful dark skin, high cheekbones, hair plaited in cornrows and dyed with henna, giving it a reddish tint. She has startlingly unusual eyes, almond shaped and a deep vibrant green colour. He can’t help staring into them.

“Evans,” she says casually, extending her calloused hand. “Lily Evans. Master Gunner.”

She wears a man’s white shirt with rolled up sleeves, fitted waist coat that shows off her curvy figure, and flared trousers. She has a long knife on her belt and a pistol strapped onto her hip.

“Lupin,” he says, his voice hoarse and thin, shaking her hand firmly. “Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin,” grey eyed Handsome Bloke repeats, licking his dry lips. “Welcome aboard the Blithering Idiot.”

“And you are?” Remus says stiffly.

This man is far too posh and dandy to be a nice fellow.

“Sirius Black, the Sirius Black, pirate lord extraordinaire?” he winks at Remus and plays easily with a knife, twirling it from hand to hand, attempting to impress. “I’m world famous apparently. Legendary Scourge of the British Navy and best-looking pirate to boot?”

Remus notices the elegant long fingers and veins tracing the back of his hands and forearms, the tattoos that encircle his upper arms and peek out under his sleeveless top.

“Never heard of you,” he lies, calmly folding his arms.

There isn’t a single soul from Kingston to London who has not heard about the fabled exploits of this famous pirate and his crew of outrageous marauders.

Sirius Black stares back at him, stunned into silence.

“Ha! Priceless! I like you already. James Potter, Quartermaster,” the second posh bloke jumps up grinning at Remus and hops onto the rigging, hanging off it carelessly. “Meet the rest of the crew!”

He waves his arm towards a blonde woman dressed entirely in black with a black hairband and gold hoop earrings.

“That’s Marlene Mc Kinnon, Master Rigger.”

She grins roguishly at him.

“Dorcas Meadows, Striker.”

Dorcas nods her head, her hair is also braided like Evans’, she is willowy and tall and looks imposing and stern until she sends him a friendly smile. He smiles back. She salutes him and rests her head on top of Mc Kinnon, who plants a besotted kiss on her lips.

“Mary Mac Donald, Master Cooper.”

Mary is petite, and has fair hair curled into sweet ringlets with rosy cheeks from too much sun, she wears a cap to screen her face.  She smiles politely as Remus scratches his head, trying to imagine how she ended up aboard this pirate ship. He notices two long daggers hanging from her waist, and makes a mental note not to make any assumptions about this motley crew.

“Peter Pettigrew, Master Cook.”

The blond-haired smaller man laughs aloud.

“More like only cook!” he says, rolling his small blue eyes good-naturedly.

“Trifling detail, my good Sir!” James Potter calls back, jumping off the rigging and somersaulting back onto the deck.

“Show-off!” says Lily Evans, rolling her eyes, as he lands right in front of her, ruffling his wild black hair.

James Potter’s hazel eye shines, he’s clearly smitten with her.

“You’re just jealous, Evans,” he quips, squeezing her shoulder fondly.

His eye patch is oddly attractive.

“You’re an idiot,” she sighs, but her eyes dance with longing as she stands on tiptoe and presses her lips softly against his.

James Potter presses her closer to him and returns the kiss.

“Oi! You forgot about me, lovebirds!”

“My deepest apologies, this is Benjy Fenwick, Master Carpenter and Occasional Surgeon, whenever the need arises.”

Remus winces at the idea and Benjy has the decency to shrug, his gold front tooth flashes in the sunlight.

“You’re lucky we rescued you, Lupin,” the Captain grumbles, adjusting the sails, he’s been glancing at Remus covertly during this entire time.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone near as gorgeous in his entire life. Remus Lupin is tall, taller than him, annoyingly. He’s slimmer, looks a bit underfed in fact, his eyes are a wonderful amber colour – liquid, enigmatic, soulful. His skin is a deep, golden brown colour and his soft, wavy hair a russet brown. His lips are full and the pirate desperately wants to kiss them. Lupin, with his capacity for calmness in the face of the most feared Pirate in all the Atlantic. He’s angry at himself for being so pathetic. Usually he has no time for such ridiculous tomfoolery, good looks be damned, wouldn’t lend his heart to anyone, for fear of losing it. Besides, he never learnt how to love, not properly. He’s scared to, damn it, terrified, in fact.

Sirius Black does not do love.

“That depends,” Remus shoots back.

He looks proud and dignified and as though he couldn’t give a toss what Sirius or his crew think.

“On what?” Sirius Black finds himself saying, surprisingly.

“On what you plan to do with me,” Lupin answers.

He doesn’t look scared, yet he must be, at least a little.

“That depends,” Sirius Black says, with a glint in his eyes.

“On what?” Remus Lupin replies.

“On how annoying you are, Lupin.”

The Captain of the Blithering Idiot is hard to read, and Remus has no idea whether he is threatening him or joking.

“I’ll wager you’re more annoying on a daily basis than I’ve ever been,” he says, staring Sirius Black straight in the eyes.

Evans and Mc Kinnon guffaw loudly as James Potter hands Lupin a bottle of rum, grinning wildly.

“Never a truer word spoken!” Mc Kinnon says, as Evans pats the Captain’s arm affectionately.

Sirius Black’s scowl deepens as he continues staring at Lupin. He’s equally attractive when he scowls, if not more so. Lupin seems undeterred, he raises his right brow, takes a long swig of the vicious tasting alcohol and winks at him. The pirate blinks in surprise. Lupin’s mouth slowly turns upwards into a warm smile.

“I can be pretty infuriating too,” he says, by way of an apology.

“You never thanked us for rescuing you,” Black says, looking decidedly flustered and still irritated.

“Thank you so much for rescuing me, Captain Black, I owe you my life,” Lupin says, gushingly, his smile growing too wide.

He’s teasing now, and the pirate has no idea how to respond.

“He jumped into the sea himself, which is unheard of, Sirius Black leaving his ship!” Meadows calls out as she polishes the ship’s compass.

“To what do I owe this honour?” Lupin asks Captain Black.

“Never you mind, Lupin,” mutters Black, swiping the bottle of cheap rum from Remus’ hand and gulping an inordinate amount.

Mc Kinnon doubles over in silent laughter and Sirius Black curses her, giving her a dig with his elbow.

“Ouch! You bastard!” Mc KInnon shouts, still chortling, as she hops onto the rigging to get away from her grumpy Captain. “Shall I tell our lovely Mr. Lupin why you rescued him, then?”

Her eyes are sparkling with amusement and Lily Evans’ face is lit with delight at her Captain’s discomfort.

“Fuck off, you renegade!” Sirius says hurriedly, and in one quick movement he lifts himself up beside Mc Kinnon with a warning glare.

 Continue reading The New Sailing Master ...

[claudia1829things]

"THE FAVOURITE" (2018) Review

"THE FAVOURITE" (2018) Review From the moment I first saw the trailer for Yorgos Lanthimos' 2018 Oscar nominated comedy-drama, "THE FAVOURITE", I wanted to see it. Badly. Being something of a penny pincher, I had figured I would not get a chance to see the film until its release on DVD, cable television or streaming television. But my sister, who also wanted to see the film, finally convinced me to spend a few extra dollars to see the film while it was still in limited release.

What was the reason behind my fervent desire to see "THE FAVOURITE"? One, it was a period film . . . and I am a sucker for the genre. Two, the movie was set during the reign of Queen Anne of Great Britain, a period I have not personally seen on screen since my viewing of the 1969 miniseries, "THE FIRST CHURCHILLS". And three, judging from the trailer, the movie struck me as funny, witty and very original. I love originality. "THE FAVOURITE" is basically Lanthimos' take on the political rivalry between two of Queen Anne's courtiers and cousins - Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough and Abigail Masham, Baroness Masham - for her favor. The movie begins with then Abigail Hill's arrival at Kensington Palace to serve as a scullery maid (?). Abigail, whose father had lost his fortune during a game of whist, owes her job to her cousin, Sarah Churchill. The latter is the Queen's premiere courtier and has an emotional hold over the monarch, due to their sexual affair. However, Sarah's powerful standing in Court begins to decline when Abigail manages to win the Queen's favor after using her to help relieve the latter's pain from the gout. Abigail and the Queen eventually begins an affair and former's standing in Court not only increases, but also threatens Sarah's. Lanthimos' movie had a lot going for it. Thanks to his screenplay, "THE FAVOURITE" featured political intrigue . . . well, somewhat; and three lead characters and a supporting character that proved to be fascinating. Queen Anne's twelve-year reign proved to be volatile than I had ever surmised. To be honest, I have not given a thought about Anne's reign since watching "THE FIRST CHURCHILLS" a long time ago. The movie did occasionally focused on the conflicts between the Tory and Whig parties. Abigail Masham, like Queen Anne and Robert Harley, 1st Earl of Oxford, favored the Tory party and Sarah Churchill favored the Whigs. The latter party supported Britain's participation in the War of the Spanish Succession aka Queen Anne's War, and the Churchills had benefited from John Churchill's command of British troops during it. Due to Sarah's emotional control over the Queen, the Whigs under Sidney Godolphin, 1st Earl of Godolphin maintained control over Parliament. However, that changed after Abigail's arrival at Kensington Palace due to Lord Oxford's insistence that she spy on the Queen's relationship with Sarah and later, her growing favor with the monarch. The movie touched upon all . . . or, most of the political aspects surrounding Queen Anne's Court. However Yorgos Lanthimos, along with screenwriters Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, had decided to focus upon the emotional and sexual triangle that had formed between Anne, Sarah and Abigail. Watching this triangle unfurl was like being sucked into some emotional vortex - fascinating and at the same time, dangerous and volatile. Davis, McNamara and especially Lanthimos provided moviegoers with a period biopic that certainly skewered from the usual output from both the Hollywood industry and the film industry overseas. Both the best and the worst aspects of all three women and some of the supporting characters seemed to be on display. Some critics have claimed that "THE FAVOURITE" is basically a satire on period dramas. I agree, but it also struck me as a cautionary tale about the acquirement, use and abuse of power. This cautionary tale especially seemed to encompass the Abigail Masham and Lord Oxford characters, as they use Queen Anne to overcome Sarah Churchill's control of the Court and the Whigs in Parliament. But this theme of abuse of power also touched upon Sarah Churchill and her attempts to maintain her control and the Queen herself, who becomes increasingly determined that she would be the one in control and no one else. The production's visuals and designs proved to be first-rate. Robbie Ryan had received both an Academy Award nomination and a BAFTA nomination for the film's excellent photography. I thought his photography captured the beauty and color of the movie's English locations. Fiona Crombie and Alice Felton won a well-deserved BAFTA award and earned an Oscar nomination for the movie's production designs. Both Crombie Felton did a superb job in re-creating the look of Queen Anne's Court of the early 18th century. And what can I say about Sandy Powell's costume designs, which earned an Academy Award nomination and won a BAFTA? I thought she did an excellent job in re-creating . . . well, almost re-creating the fashions of early 18th century England as shown below:

Powell's designs are not completely historically accurate. Although she accurately shaped the costumes, Powell made them from Nigerian fabrics found in London. And the costumes' color schemes seemed to feature white, blue, gray and black. Very original, very beautiful, but not particularly accurate. I certainly had no complaints about the cast. Most of the supporting cast for "THE FAVOURITE" - Joe Alwyn, James Smith, Edward Aczel, and Mark Gatiss - all gave solid performances. However, I must admit that there were times when Gatiss, who portrayed the Duke of Marlborough, barely seemed visible and obviously wasted in this film. However, there was one supporting performance that really impressed and entertained me. It came from Nicolas Hoult, who portrayed English statesman and occasional sadist, Robert Harley, the Earl of Oxford. Was the real Lord Oxford a sadist? I have no idea. But he did try to gain Abigail's assistance to gain favor with Queen Anne with no scruples. Hoult managed to capture his character's slightly sadistic, yet ambitious nature with such subtlety and skill that I found myself enjoying his performance more than any other in the film. If I must be frank, the true backbone or backbones of "THE FAVOURITE" proved to be the three leading ladies - Olivia Colman, Emma Stone and Rachel Weisz. As much as I enjoyed Hoult's performance, I realize that this movie would have been nothing without them. Many may wax lyrical over Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara's Oscar nominated screenplay, Sandy Powell's costumes or Yorgos Lanthimos' direction. But the performances of the three actresses made this movie and all three gave superb performances. Olivia Colman won just about every (or nearly every) acting award under the sun for her portrayal of Queen Anne of Great Britain. What I admire about her performance is that she gave emotional depth to a character that was in danger by the screenplay into devolving into a caricature of an idiot savant. I could probably say the same about Rachel Weisz's portrayal of Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough. There were times when the Sarah Churchill character seemed in danger of drifting into some stereotype of the "butch" lesbian trope. If it were not for Weisz's excellent acting, for which she received an Oscar nomination and a BAFTA award for Best Supporting Actress, I would have lost all interest in the character. Emma Stone was lucky that her character Sarah Hill Masham, Baroness Masham never drifted toward the edge of caricature. In a way, she had it easier than Colman and Weisz. But I admire her performance for two reasons. One, she had to master some kind of upper-class English accent without overdoing it. And two, the actress did an excellent job of revealing Abigail's cold ambitions behind the warm and feminine facade, layer by layer. And yet . . . despite my admiration for the cast's performances, the film's visual style and certain aspect of its narrative; I did not like "THE FAVOURITE". I did not hate it like some who did. But I did not like it. The movie seemed like a cinematic version of a drama queen. The cinematic epitome of pure titillation. When it comes to historical accuracy in films and television, I seemed to have mixed views. I can tolerate it, if it works for me. I tolerated Sandy Powell's historically incorrect costumes. I tolerated the fact that the Earl of Oxford character, as portrayed by Nicholas Hoult, was a good 15 years younger than the real Lord Oxford during the film's setting. And I tolerated the historically inaccurate characterizations of the film's three leading characters . . . only to a point in which I admired their performances. But the movie had crossed too many lines for my tastes. Queen Anne kept rabbits as pets to symbolize the 17 children she had lost? Rabbits as pets? During the early 18th century? They were either regarded as food or pests over three centuries ago. What was the point of those rabbits in the first place? What did her lost children have to do with the movie's narrative, other than reveal Abigail as some uncaring monster? Was that it? What happened to Anne's consort, Prince George of Denmark? Her husband who was still alive when Abigail Masham née Hill first joined the Queen's Court? Why was he kept out of the movie, but not Sarah or Abigail's husbands? His death had proven to be one of the main reasons why the Queen and Sarah first became estranged in the first place. Anne had loved him very much and Sarah's dismissive attitude toward Prince George's death sparked the beginning of the two women's estrangement. Why did the film failed to mention that Abigail was also related to Lord Oxford, as well as Sarah Churchill? And why on earth was her first position at the Queen's Court as a scullery maid? A scullery maid? Seriously? Someone with her blood connections? Both Sarah and Lord Oxford would have found it socially embarrassing to have a cousin working as a scullery maid within the Queen's household. And of course, there were scenarios and scenes that left me scratching my head. One of the scenes I refer to is that ridiculous scenario in which Abigail had poisoned Sarah and had the latter dumped at some whorehouse outside of London. One, it was stupid plan that could have easily backfired. And two, what was the movie trying to say? That Abigail was familiar with places before her arrival at Court? And could someone please explain the reasoning behind the scene that featured a nude, giggling fat man being pelted by blood oranges by Lord Oxford and his cronies. What was the point of that scene? What exactly was Yorgos Lanthimos trying to say? Also, what was the point behind Samuel Masham's line dance performance (courtesy of actor Joe Alwyn) in the film? What was that about? Or was it another scene for shock value? Honestly, scenes like Sarah in a whorehouse, the pelted naked man and Masham's dance routine are just examples of the absolute, over-the-top nonsense that I had found in this film. But what really pissed me off about "THE FAVOURITE" were the changes that Lanthimos, Davis and McNamara made in regard to the history between Queen Anne, the Duchess of Marlborough and the Baroness Masham. What was the point in these changes? It seemed as if the director and the screenwriters had striped away a great deal of the historical conflict between the three women in order to convey a tale of a sexual triangle filled with ambition and passion. And nothing else. This struck me as unnecessary and frankly, a little insulting as a woman. It almost seemed as if the movie found it difficult to take the political beliefs and/or abilities of three women seriously, especially Queen Anne. The estrangement between the Queen and Sarah, along with Abigail's ascendancy was pretty interesting in real life. Aside from showing Sarah's political influence within the Court, the movie never really explored the political differences between the Queen and Sarah . . . or the fact that Abigail genuinely shared the former's Tory politics. Or that Queen Anne had not only grown weary of Sarah's bullying nature, but also resentful of the latter's Whig politics. Instead, moviegoers were presented with a tale mainly about sexual power, with very little politics involved. In fact, there is no real proof that Queen Anne was ever in any sexual relationship with either Sarah or Anne. I dislike the fact that Davis and McNamara's screenplay solely blamed Abigail for the Queen and Sarah's estrangement. In reality, Sarah was the main instigator of her own political downfall. In fact, she was also the main reason behind her own downfall within King George II's Court, some twenty years later. I realize that Davis, McNamara and Lanthimos wanted a "Eve Harrington" figure and they saw Abigail Masham as the perfect figure for this. But if they had wanted a LGTBQ remake of "ALL ABOUT EVE" that badly, why not create original characters for this movie? Why use historical figures who were never proven to be gay in the first place? One more thing, it took me a while, but I finally realized that "THE FAVOURITE" reminded me of another movie. I am speaking of the 1989 comedy about a divorce called "THE WAR OF ROSES". Like "THE FAVOURITE", the 1989 movie started out as a movie filled with sharp humor and devolved into something ugly and lurid. And in the case of "THE FAVOURITE" . . . laced with exploitation. I hate to say this, but "THE FAVOURITE" proved to be a major disappointment for me. Perhaps this would teach me not to judge a film, based upon a trailer. When I first saw it, I had assumed that the film would be a satirical comedy with strong political overtones. Instead, I found myself watching a film in which the comedy became repetitive and not as funny as I had originally assumed . . . and a movie with the historical background changed drastically for the sake of shock value and sheer exploitation. Director Yorgos Lanthimos, along with screenwriters Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara, pretty much ruined this film for me. And not even the excellent performances of Olivia Colman, Rachel Weisz or Emma Stone could save it, as far as I am concerned.

[samayla]

An Utterly Impractical Magician

A Jane Eyre/Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell fusion fic. 

Also on AO3

Summary: When John Reed burnt Thomas Godbless’ book of magic to spite his cousin, he had no idea how drastically he would alter both her fate and that of English magic.

This fic is a long term project that I’ve been working on for ages... This chapter has been sitting in Scrivener, ready to go, for about a month, but I didn’t want to post it before I had more done. I don’t have much more ready to post, but I’ve decided I don’t care. Expect sporadic, slow updates on this one, but for those of you who enjoy such things, I hope this fic is worth the wait!

Tagging those of you who expressed interest when I asked all those months ago: @bookhobbit @katie-beluga @bryonyashley @wolfinthethorns @kaethe-nicole @warsawmouse @cassandravision @mythopoeticreality @jmlascar @seriouslythoughguys @pink-lemonade-rose @isawatreetoday @rude-are-food @the-stars-above28 @the-candor-shadowhunter 

I think I got everyone who’d expressed interest. Let me know if you’d like to be included or removed from the tag list!

1 The book of Thomas Godbless

Gateshead House, November 1804

The widow Sarah Reed of Gateshead House was considered by all her acquaintance to be an exceedingly fashionable woman.

Her clothing and speech were always chosen with the utmost care, in accordance with the latest London fashions. Even her remote Yorkshire home, though it could of course not be held accountable for its unfortunate location, was considered perfectly lovely by all the great London ladies. The rooms were well-appointed in all the latest colors. The fabrics and drapes were all of the latest patterns and styles. The furnishings were arranged to create the most charming settings for morning chats and merry luncheons and afternoon teas and grand dinners.

Even her library was well-stocked with a great many titles, all pleasingly coordinated by subject and author and color of binding — though, in accordance with the very latest fashion, Mrs Reed had only the most perfectly superficial appreciation of her collection. In fact, the only book in her great library that ever received much of that fashionable lady’s attention at all was Proscriptions for the Care and Correction of Children by James Wallace Digby, by which she hoped to ensure her children would always do her as much credit as her hat or her mantelpiece.

Though Digby’s book was filled with all manner of valuable lessons and instructive anecdotes, Mrs Reed was in truth far too weak-willed and changeable a woman to make much real use of it. John Reed, Mrs Reed’s eldest and only son, was always well-dressed, and he stood with the bearing of a young gentleman, but he was prone to fits of temper and destructive tantrums. Miss Eliza Reed was pleasing enough to look at, but spent most of her energy imitating her mother’s fashionable whims and hiding from her French tutor. And Miss Georgiana Reed, a doll-like little creature with manners that charmed all her mother’s friends, had little in the way of independent thought, and was easily swayed to either good or ill by her elder siblings, as she could not tell the difference between such acts herself. In spite of their shortcomings, the Reed children were pretty and quiet in company - much like her hat - and so Mrs Reed felt she was quite free to be exceedingly fond of them.

But Mrs Reed had in her charge one other child — Jane Eyre, the favorite niece of her late husband — and this child was as far from her aunt’s ideal as it was possible for a child to be. All those shortcomings to which Mrs Reed was blind in her own children, became glaringly obvious to her in Jane Eyre. Perpetually pale and thin, Jane lacked her cousins’ lively spirits. She seemed to her aunt unwilling to be pleased with anything, and she argued back when she had much better remain silent. Indeed, poor Mrs Reed could scarcely speak in the girl’s presence without being forced to hear how unfair a thing was, or how a thing was really John Reed’s fault, or how Eliza put Georgiana up to it, or how any one or all of her natural children had started the whole affair, and Jane was merely defending herself, or trying to fix it, or uninvolved entirely. The lies she concocted to escape blame never failed to shock Mrs Reed: if it wasn’t the fault of one of the other children, it was that of faeries or ghosts or talking trees!

Her deepest fear was that John or her girls should pick up on Jane’s nonsense. Little harm could come from it in the case of the girls, as ladies were simply not magicians. But John was beginning to talk of possible careers, and his mother could not bear the idea that he might pursue magic, as Jane’s late father had done. She was not sure which would be worse: the stuffy, reclusive theoretical magician, who was prone to unkempt hair and a decided thickness about the middle, or the yellow-curtained vagabonding magician, with his rotted teeth and ragged hat. She shuddered to think on it. So she did her level best to discourage Jane’s fascination with magic, and if her children did not get on with their cousin either, then Mrs Reed was content to turn a blind eye — in the interest of their future happiness, of course.

Jane, for her own part, was quite content to pass the majority of her time in solitary reading.

Another rainy, dreary day in November had forced Jane and her cousins indoors yet again. Jane did not mind the weather in the least, but six days of rain had put John Reed in an increasingly foul temper. Fearful of becoming the object of his ire, Jane had built herself a little makeshift fortress in the library’s window seat. The thick curtains blocked the fire’s warmth, leaving only the chill from the rain-speckled window to pool around her little body, but this was a favorite hiding place of hers. No matter how many times she chose it, her dimwitted cousins never thought to check it first. Even if John was searching for her already, she should have an hour or perhaps more, before he thought to look behind the curtain. She pulled a shawl from its hiding place beneath the cushion and wrapped it around her shoulders. The cushion, she wedged up along the window to guard against the damp glass, and she settled back in the warmth of a stray sunbeam with her favorite book.

The book of Thomas Godbless had no title. A rather enigmatic swirl of gold leaf instead graced the front cover. Whenever Jane ran her fingers over it, she fancied she could almost understand whatever word that swirl was supposed to represent, like a voice half-heard in another room. It was magic, Jane was certain of it. The same magic that returned the book safely to the library every time Mrs Reed removed it. Thomas Godbless was supposed to be illiterate — several of her father’s other books about magic said as much — so Jane had come to the happy conclusion only a few weeks prior that the book was written by magic, perhaps even with the assistance of Godbless’ fairy servant, Dick-Come-Tuesday. She murmured the fairy’s name, reveling in the whimsy of it, and swore she could feel the book quiver in answer.

She opened the book carefully, ever mindful of the imperfect stitching of its pages, and lost herself in its eccentric spellings and emphatic flourishes.

“Little Rat,” came John Reed’s voice, singsong in the hallway. Jane started and dropped the book, which hit the floor with a resounding thud. “Madam Mope!” John Reed tore the curtain back from Jane’s hiding place. “There you are! Reading again, of course.” He snatched up her book before she could and held it up out of her reach, regarding it with a sneer.

“Give it back!” cried Jane.

Her cousin flipped carelessly through the pages, clearly enjoying the way she cringed at his treatment of the book. “Beg me,” said John. When she did not obey immediately, he turned the book to dangle it by its green leather covers. Jane lunged for the book, but he shook it menacingly, and two pages slipped out of their binding.

“Please, give it back, John.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook the book again. More pages drifted to the floor, rustling like autumn leaves. “I am Master Reed to you, Pest.”

“Please, Master Reed,” said Jane, with as much subservience as her bold little heart could muster. “Please, give me my book.”

For a moment, Jane thought he meant to return it. He closed the covers and collected the loose pages, tucking them neatly inside, but then everything was stars, and there was a sharp pain in the side of her face. He’d struck her with the heavy volume. “It is not your book, Worm,” said John. He seized her arm to make sure she was paying attention to his next words. “Everything here belongs to me, and I think this looks a great deal like kindling.”

He flung the book into the fireplace.

With a scream, Jane shoved him away. He struck his head on the library table, but Jane scarcely noticed. She threw herself down on the hearth, intent on rescuing her beloved book. Jane plucked a large portion of the book out of the flames, but saw to her dismay that the pages that fell out were entirely blank. Horrified, she looked back to the pages still curling in the flames and frantically pulled them out. Those pages too, had gone blank, but in the sparks and embers and flames flickering around her fingers, she could almost see the words. Could almost hear them in the crackle and pop of the logs. She gasped and inhaled a great mouthful of ashes.

The hot ash was everywhere, in her mouth and nose, her eyes, muffling her hearing. Jane blinked hard to clear her vision, and suddenly, the library was gone. In its place was a vast landscape of open, flat moors and endless, flat sky. Jane felt as if she were a flower, pressed between the pages of some great book, preserved, rather than destroyed by the pressure. A wind rose up, smelling of old paper and dusty leather, and the rustling of the heather became a million million whispering voices. The flat sky became a fathomless depth above her, filling with clouds carried in on the wind. Every curve of cloud was a flourish of ink on the vast page of the sky. Then it was raining, and every drop was a word she could almost understand. The wind whipped around her, pulling the pins from her hair and making a pennant of it. The rain soaked her dress, turning its soft red the color of blood. Then the rain was not rain at all, but ink, and she was black with it: her dress, her arms, her hair.

And then she was back in the library. The howl of the wind became John Reed wailing for his Mama and Jane screaming for her book. Bessie dragged her away from the fire grate, her strong arms wrapped around Jane’s thin waist. Jane’s dress was soaked, and her arms, still stretched desperately toward the flames, were black. The hair straggling in front of her face was black as well. She froze in Bessie’s grip, paralyzed by fright.

She’d just done magic. That other place, with its ink-filled sky, it had been magic, or the place where the magic came from. She wasn’t entirely sure. But in spite of the magic, the book was gone. Pages lay scattered around the grate, blank and half-burnt, and everything was covered in a fine sheen of ash. Jane let out a hoarse sob as Mrs Reed flew into the room and went at once to her son’s side.

“My darling boy,” cried Mrs Reed, her hands fluttering ineffectually about her son’s wounded head. “What happened?”

John Reed raised one quivering hand to point accusingly at his cousin.

“Whatever has that little devil done to you this time?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she rounded on Bessie, who was still working to restrain Jane. “Call for a doctor! And get her out of here! Put her in the Red Room, and have one of the footmen do it, if you can’t manage her yourself.”

The Red Room, as its rather unimaginative name suggested, was a bedroom Mrs Reed had done up entirely in her late husband’s favorite color. It had been his bedroom before his death, and afterward, she hadn’t the heart to change a thing, in spite of numerous updates to the decor of the rest of the house. Mr Reed’s favorite books still lined the little bookshelf in the corner; his clothing still rested inside the bureau; his armchair beside the window still smelled faintly of cigar smoke when the sun warmed the fabric of the cushions. So little had the room changed in the years since her Uncle Reed’s death, that Jane felt quite certain his spirit had lingered too, long after his body had been removed.

Thomas the footman carried Jane to the Red Room, deposited her in the middle of the floor, and fled the room at once, fearful of the usual tantrum this treatment inspired. He locked the door hastily behind himself, but for the first time in her life, Jane had fears that outweighed those of disturbing her uncle’s restless spirit. Her book was gone. It would not be coming back, of that much she was sure. The painful state of her hands dashed any hope that the ancient pages might have survived the flames. Equally certain was the fact that she had somehow become entangled with magic.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye had her heart jumping in her chest. A tiny creature of ink and blood was staring at her from over the dressing table. As its mismatched eyes widened, and a blackened hand rose to its mouth in horror, Jane realized it was her own reflection in the mirror. She had become some fae creature, the changeling child her aunt had always feared. The now odd-eyed stare proved it. Where once her eyes had both been a warm, if unremarkable, brown, the left was now a pale ash grey.

Ink dripped from the singed ends of her hair and streaked blackly from her eyes, and Jane had the notion that she should melt on the spot, become nothing more than an ink stain marring the painfully cheerful rose pattern of the rug. The thought conjured an image of her aunt’s face, and the horror that would no doubt contort her features if she were to find that Jane’s final act in this world was to ruin her beloved rug. She choked, torn halfway between a laugh and a sob, and sank to the floor in a heap of sodden fabric.

As panic gave way to exhaustion, the pain in her hands began to make itself known in earnest. It began as a dull throb in time with her heartbeat, but it quickly grew to the point that Jane felt certain her hands must still be aflame. She bit her lip and wiped them clear of the blackness - soot, she discovered, not ink - using her wet skirt as a handkerchief. She only managed a few fingers before the pain, and a cluster of sparks around the edge of her vision, forced her to stop.

Her head whipped up, but the fireplace was cold. It was always cold, ever since Uncle Reed had slept his last night there.

Sparks flared again in the corner of her eye, by the armchair this time, and Jane staggered to her feet. More sparks by the bed, then by the bureau, then flickering across the ceiling. More and more sparks, until everything in the room was limned in dancing light. It was the fire, Jane was sure of it. The fire that had tasted her hands and consumed her book, had come back to claim the rest of her.

She raced to the door and beat frantically upon it, heedless of the pain in her hands, as she screamed for Thomas to let her out, or for Bessie to come and get her, or anyone at all to come and put out the fire. Bessie at last threw open the door in a great panic, knocking Jane to the floor.

“Oh, Miss Jane!” said Bessie. “What a scream! Whatever is the matter?”

But Jane’s tongue tangled on the taste of ashes, and she could not make the words come, only strangled-sounding sobs. She could barely see Bessie for the sparks filling her vision. She crawled toward the door and clawed her way back to her feet, clinging to Bessie’s black skirt as if it could save her from the fire.

Footsteps in the outer passage announced the arrival of someone else. “What is going on here?” demanded Mrs Reed. “Bessie! I’m surprised at you! The doctor is in with John, and all this screaming and carrying on is disturbing his work. I believe I told you I would fetch Jane from the Red Room myself when I was prepared to deal with her behavior.”

“You did, ma’am,” Bessie confirmed over Jane’s continued hysterics, beginning to push her away from the door, back into the Red Room. Jane wailed, and the sparks flared bright, eating away everything in sight. Her last panicked thought before consciousness fled her was that they would all burn.

[peter-horrocks]

Inside France review of 2020

People around the world will be thinking that 2020 has been the most testing and unpredictable of years in our lifetime. Yet despite the turmoil, for some it was a good year, though undoubtedly tinged with a sense of sadness, bewilderment as to how insensitive and selfish many humans can be and admiration for how amazing many people are too. On a personal front this was a good year in many ways, though my perspective is not your average as the previous year I was fighting a battle with cancer and practically anything is better than that.

“Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.” Albert Camus

My best photo of 2020 taken on a bike ride up the Gorge du Loup near Grasse

The obvious dominant subject of 2020 was Covid 19 and I have great empathy for those adversely affected and directly involved. The virus popped up out of no-where and its impact has been incessant ever since. When I first became aware of it I asked my physiotherapist what she thought and if her son who was working in Tokyo was concerned. “Oh Corona, comme la bierre, boff!!” was her flippant reply. And I think that is where most people were at.

I’ve read a number of good books about the plague and how it spread, including Ken Follet’s brilliant World Without End and more recently I enjoyed the French classic La Peste by Albert Camus, French version. Transmission is key and human habits are why it spreads and our inability to adapt and accept change are our shortcomings, poor governance adds frustration. Thank goodness there are also those we acclaim as heroes too. It is so difficult battling an unseen entity which affects some badly but not others and which adapts too, as we all know now.

Home made mask

The media feeds on it and frankly, if I had a euro for every time I’ve seen a cotton bud thrust up someone’s nose on the news (what is news about that!!!) my pockets would be bulging, and of course now its needles in the arm time. Everyone’s become an expert or they’ve chosen to be ostrich’s and stuck their head firmly in the sand, and you can’t blame them really. The tension is palpable when it comes to masks in places where they are obligatory, I can’t help feeling angry when I see people not wearing them or with their noses poking out, as they often seem to have that smug look about them, like they are sooo independent-minded. It frustrates me to feel judgemental but its that wilful selfish thing that makes me angry, that sullen unwillingness to be part of the collective, as if we could survive regardless as an island, though obviously, we wouldn’t last a minute.

We’ve all been finding our way of coping and for some, it is much more difficult than others. At first, it was almost amusing to find oneself running from the back end of the apartment to the front balcony and back, repeat, for an hour in an effort to keep fit during tight confinement. We exchanged improvised mask ideas; I had a ski snood with a coffee filter stuffed down it! Initially, we were told the masks didn’t really work. The truth was they didn’t have enough of them and even worse here in France they had recently binned the reserve stock, so they were trying to hide their embarrassment. In fairness, that apart, the French government seem to have handled managing the virus relatively well so far though now there are vaccination issues aggravated by a vaccine sceptic population and slow bureaucracy.

There was something marvellous about discovering how well you could keep connected with friends and loved ones through WhatsApp video in particular. I hadn’t felt so connected to my elder brother living in South Africa ever. But when he died of a heart attack out walking in the hills with his friends over there the reality hit hard. A big delay in getting him back to the UK, a bigger delay for his wife to follow on and no opportunity to share in the grieving in the direct company of my family. There were seven of us brothers and sisters and I am by far the youngest, it is sad, strange and destabilising being down to six.

Additional anxiety was for my younger daughter who is a recently qualified doctor as is the man in her life. Both were having a small break before taking up their proper postings in the summer. They were enjoying hiking in the wilds of Scotland and a holiday with family in Asia and looking forward to more carefree travel after so many years of medical studies. They both bravely and unselfishly volunteered to work in one of the worst Covid affected hospitals in the UK. Heavily involved with the thankless task of informing families of their loss by video conference and in the testing of the recently approved Oxford vaccine, they were literally in the thick of it. Within two weeks of starting as volunteers, they both caught the virus, thankfully not badly and after an isolation period, they were straight back onto the wards. They have both taken up their proper posts now, in London, as the third wave comes crashing through. Understandably they are tired and don’t want to talk about it, it is very difficult, especially for them.

My elder daughter got caught up in things too. She was on a humanitarian posting in Nepal when the outbreak struck and only got out on the last plane to leave Kathmandu for the UK. Having a day off she had gone hang gliding in the morning, a first for her, an amazing thrill, she had just sent me photographs showing her flying, of stupendous views of the local lake and the Annapurna mountain range. Only to return and be told she had to pack and leave immediately. The next photo was of a night-time, deserted, frightening-looking Kathmandu where she managed to find one of the last hotels still open, a rough one. To say I was relieved when she got home and met up at the airport with her sister who similarly got the last plane out of Shri Lanka is an understatement. Thankfully, she managed to see out the first wave and much of the summer with the family of her friend who owns a nice property in the countryside near the sea, well away from it all.

Kathmandu in lockdown taken by my daughter

My anxiety and personal need were a desire to help them. Being stuck here in France and relatively at risk myself my options were limited. My main concern was for their mental health as my guess was that Covid was likely to affect everybodies. Shortly after my cancer treatment, my French wife’s sister gave me a couple of books by a French author, meditation master and philosopher Fabrice Midal. One was an introduction to meditation for westerners, non-religious and based on attention, more of an awakening and relevant to actually living life actively, not at all mind closing and definitely not relaxation. I found it very wise and tried the meditation in addition to my gentle yoga which is for my relaxation when I’m not out for a walk, playing football or cycling up a mountain. I still meditate and have found it fascinating, paying attention to the functioning of the most important thing of all, the one we nearly all neglect, the brain. Its no cure for anything but I found it a good exercise and felt it may help my girls.

Meditation book by Fabrice Midal, in french.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t exist in English. So I contacted the author and asked if he would mind me translating it, explaining that I thought it would help my daughters. To my surprise, he promptly replied and agreed saying he could probably then use it to publish it online. So, I set about translating it and explained what I was doing to my daughters and the eldest volunteered to proofread. Its nearly done and I can say that my eldest daughter found it very helpful and the youngest has at least read some of it. I had never translated a whole book before and I found it an interesting experience especially as a philosopher weighs his words and each one counts. Fabrice Midal appears regularly on French television as he is one of the country’s leading philosophers and authors. I have read a fair bit of Greek philosophy and have always had some interest in the subject as I find it helps make sense of life, up to now I was not aware of any contemporary philosophers worth reading. I have found him to be a real ray of light, someone I can relate to and admire and learn from. I think he deserves to be read more throughout the world; he is a man of the moment in my opinion. I never thought I’d see the day when I would sit on a meditation cushion, I don’t buy into the way most of it is practised at all, but I’m glad to have found one that suits me and I’m very glad to have been able to help my daughters if only in a small way.

Brexit end game After an anxious wait it's done and dusted, well nearly. I have made my permanent residency application, which was relatively simple and not too onerous, and I have a holding number and a statement that my rights in France continue as before. The only problem is a final processing delay of at least three months so still waiting to cross the t’s and dot the i’s when the administration is ready.

The mood in France Given the circumstances its not too bad and whist the government has its detractors they are less visible due to the various constraints at the moment and the more pressing business of dealing with the Covid crisis. There is moaning when things are obviously wrong but there does seem to be reactivity too as well as a good degree of solidarity, responsibility and helpfulness.

Best cultural moments Well, there haven’t been any as everything is shut and even when a few things like cinemas were open there was nothing much good on and certainly nothing worth risking being indoors with other people.

First day on the beach at Fréjus after lockdown number one

Best experience Stepping back out onto the football pitch in Saint Cezaire-Sur-Siagne was enormous for me. During my cancer treatment, I never thought I would be able to play football again. It’s a very simple thing kicking a ball around with fellow human beings, but I’ve always loved it to bits. Also in between lockdowns we managed to get down to the beach at Fréjus a couple of times in the morning when there were few people around and it was a real tonic to be able to enjoy the sea and sun, it was equally uplifting to be able to ride up into the mountains on my bike occassionally though hard getting the muscles going again each time.

Looking down towards the Gorge du Loup

Precious family moments The top was a visit from my elder daughter who managed to stay with us for a couple of weeks before getting back to the UK on the last flight before the second lockdown. A huge pickup, I enjoyed catching up with her work teaching online and coaching and being able to be there for her as well as visiting some nice places outdoors, especially the observatory at Caussols. 

And we also managed a lovely stay in a chalet in the high French Alps at Les Menuires in August along with my French wife’s daughters, son in law and five grandchildren, the sun shone on the verdant valley by day and the stars lit up our evening walks up the mountain, it was quite magical and great fun, I felt privileged to be part of it.

Selling my Dordogne property

I’ve finally given up on the idea that I might do something with my property in the Dordogne one day, so I’m selling it. It is composed of a beautiful big barn which I had re-roofed and opened some window openings at the start of a conversion (which I had planning for, now lapsed, but easy to re-new). Also a ruined small farmhouse. There is electricity and water but no drains (I did get permission for a septic tank but we never got round to installing it). Both are set on 1 hectare of land, mainly secluded, just one neighbour masked by trees and bushes on my side. 3km from the village of Montagrier near Périgueux. Price is 120,000 euros. If you know anyone who might be interested please let me know.

Classic 2cv It has been very enjoyable working with Classic 2cv again this year. We have brought lots of rusting old parts back to life and supplied enthusiasts far and wide with the means to keep their charming old French cars on the road. I have learned a lot and continue to grow in experience on the classic car front. Oddly its thrived during lockdowns as folk have channelled their time and energy into restoration of their cars.

So, as we head into the new year after a year like no other, the future looks uncertain, climate change and a biodiversity crisis are looming large in addition to the Covid virus. It feels important to survive, work, make the most of things, care about loved ones and to try and help.

Best wishes

Peter H

[msniw]

Corona and the Myth that’s Called ‘Goodwill’

Most people are so determined to keep cheerful during these terrible times that many have invoked the mythical spirit of public goodwill displayed by British citizens during World War 2.

Give me a break!

As French Algerian novelist, Albert Camus suggests in ‘The Plague’, an escalating crisis like the Coronavirus pandemic produces the best and worst in us all.

Personally, I find notorious villains far more engaging than milk-and-water saints and such a man was Jewish Londoner Harry Dobkin, a delinquent who murdered, then dismembered his estranged wife and buried her remains on a bomb site in a vain attempt to make her look like a war casualty. According to both Murderpedia and Steemit, when the charred, mummified remains of the former Miss Rachel Dubinski were almost coincidentally unearthed at the height of the London ‘Blitz’ in July 1942 they had been lying below the ruins of the Vauxhall Baptist Chapel for between 12 - 15 months.

I will leave you to read the full details at the links provided above as here I prefer to examine the clever, if now old-fashioned forensic techniques employed to identify the corpse and trace the murderer.

It was a superb piece of team sleuthing, led first by pathologist Dr Keith Simpson who discovered the deceased had died by strangulation; then the police, whose records showed she had been reported missing by her sister, Polly who in turn led them to Rachel’s dentist, Barnett Hopkin.

Finally, writes the author of the account on Murderpedia, “Miss Mary Newman, the head of the Photography Department at Guy's, superimposed a photograph of the skull on to a photograph of Rachel Dobkin, a technique first used six years earlier in the Buck Ruxton case. The fit was uncanny. The bones found in the crypt were the mortal remains of Mrs Rachel Dobkin”.

Most improbably, the Dobkins’ awful story became the stuff of a fictionalised short crime film, ‘The Drayton Case’, whose stars included John Le Mesurier, now best remembered for his role in the BBC TV situation comedy ‘Dad's Army’ and which in a roundabout way brings me back to base.

------

Blood Libels, Then and Now

The feeling that succeeding generations fiercely sanctify and protect their forebears’ memory has been reinforced this week by social media chat about the early 20th century Beilis Affair.

The real story and character of Menachem Mendel Beilis and the ordeal he suffered at the hands of the Czarist Russian authorities on false accusations of ritual murder were used as the basis for the multi prizewinning novel ‘The Fixer’ by Bernard Malamud which in turn became a film. This was directed by John Frankenheimer and the screenplay was written by Dalton Trumbo, among the ‘Hollywood Ten’ imprisoned and then blacklisted for putative Communist sympathies.

I am sure that this was no coincidence as Beilis’s story will have resonated hugely with Trumbo for many reasons. Some years ago, the screenwriter’s life story was enshrined on film. It needs figures like his son, Christopher, also a film maker to explain to others like the descendants of Mendel Beilis why and how a factual documentary is quite different from a fictive piece of art. Certainly they won’t listen to me!

------------- The debate takes me to the monstrous artistic scandal of the week, the unveiling of the so-called ‘nouveau baroque’ painting, ‘The Martyrdom of Saint Simonino of Trento, for Jewish Ritual Murder’.

Whatever Italian artist, Giovanni Gasparro and his legion fans may say, the real power of the work is neither in its fine draughtsmanship and exquisite colouration, nor its astute pre-Easter and pre-Passover timing: It lies firmly in the evident glee with which he has depicted the anti-Jewish stereotypical characters in the false, hate-filled story.

The Italian episode was vastly worse than the Beilis Affair, involving Jews being forced to make false confessions to murder and then being burnt at the stake.

Gasparro, according to his online biography, enjoys the official patronage of UNESCO, the Italian state and many churches. Further, he boasts a huge social media following: At the last count, more than 2,000 people had reacted to the controversial work on his Facebook page, while it produced 6.2K comments and 1.4K shares.

I do hope that someone persuades Gasparro that if he wishes to honour his faith in paint, there are a million other ways to do so.

The current pandemic has also produced ‘mini’ libels: While a ‘New York Times’ op-ed compared the Corona quarantine to an IDF military curfew on Palestinians in 2002 without mentioning suicide bombings, the Palestinian Authority initially equated Israel with the virus and only after a long silence, did it admit to cooperating with Israel during the emergency. By then, of course, more damage had been done.

Corona as the Theatre of the Absurd

Try as I may, I cannot find any well-known recent commentators who have referred to Camus’s novel, ‘The Plague’. This is especially surprising in Israel where the great master of absurdist philosophy and art is said to be universally revered.

Professor David Ohana remarks in his work, ‘Israel and Its Mediterranean Identity’ that Camus experienced the Vichy regime’s treatment of its Jews “close at hand through the family of his wife Francine, his schoolmates, neighbors, and fellow intellectuals … Most of Camus’s friends at that period in Algeria were Jews”.

André Cohen, his family doctor became “a victim of the fascist plague that was spreading in Algeria: only two percent of the Jewish doctors were permitted to work in their profession, and there was a similar quota in governmental positions. When the decrees were imposed in Oran, Dr Cohen had to stop working as a doctor”.

Ohana muses “… was Dr Cohen, the enlightened Jewish doctor, Camus’s model for Dr Rieux, the fighting doctor in ‘La Peste (The Plague)’, the outlines of which he began to commit to writing at that time? …

“Camus, who was influenced by ‘Moby Dick’, needed a symbol that would embody the subject he wished to describe in his allegorical novel. The plague of typhus that was raging in the town of Tlemcen gave him his inspiration. In 1941, at the time of the plague, he wrote in the newspaper ’Paris- Soir’, for which he worked, a short story that sketched out the main outlines of the plot of ‘The Plague’, which were fully developed about six years later”.

The past three-four months have  indeed seen our global and virtual village turn into a huge stage depicting a strange, absurdist universe that no-one can yet fully interpret or explain. It now remains to be seen if any leading Jewish writers, be they in Israel or the Diaspora, will return Camus’s compliment and write something worthy of his enduring legacy – and the plague that’s irrevocably changed modern times.

© Natalie Wood (01 April 2020)  

[pestmaster01-blog]

The Biggest Threat To Gardens In The UK? Could It Be The Chinese Box Tree Caterpillar?

If you were to ask most people what was the biggest pest decimating gardens across the UK, who would have thought the culprit would have come all the way from China?

However, the all-devouring species of caterpillar arrived from overseas ten years ago, where it has run rampant over the hedgerows of British stately homes and has now spread to all four corners of the UK

The Chinese Box Tree Caterpillar, as the name suggests, is native to China and attacks box hedges and has been seen in the grounds of stately homes, where they destroy ornamental trees by eating all the leaves. This has seen the box caterpillar overtake the slug and snail as being considered the biggest pest infesting gardens in the UK this year.

The Box tree caterpillar, or to refer to it by its scientific name Cydalima perspectalis, is most active between the months of April and October. You can always spot the signs the pest has been feeding in your garden as you will find box plants, or Buxus, covered in webbing, which is how the caterpillar eats, covering foliage in a web and then devouring it down.

The caterpillar arrived from its home in East Asia ten years ago and was found in the UK in 2011. The pest, when it first came to British shores, was located around London and the South East of England has multiplied at an incredible rate.

The caterpillar is believed to have come to Britain from China, either in containers with pots imported into the country or in planes, flying over the English Channel. The pest is thought to be difficult to control and if you find one in your garden, you are advised to get rid of them personally.

There is very little information available on how to get rid of them in the UK, whereas back home in China, they are controlled by hornets, who feed on the mots, keeping their population down.

However, the pest has been running unchecked across Europe, destroying huge clusters of wild box trees. Many are now increasingly worried about the moth attacking more than the gardens of stately homes and may devour wild box trees all over Britain, in effect decimating the plant across the country.

Researchers are working on various methods of stopping the pest in its tracks. Pesticides have been used to try and repel an infestation in professional gardens and widespread areas, although it is used by professional pest controllers, it is apparently not readily available. However, experts are contemplating other, often organic means of pest control, some even suggest using the droppings of the caterpillar or spreading its scent around areas already infested, may repel the moth, amongst other options.

If you are battling a pest infestation in your home or garden, or even in the workplace, and searching for the best solution, then depend on Pest Master Ltd.

Why not see for yourself why we are called the number one provider of pest elimination services in Paisley, Glasgow and Rutherglen? We can run rampant over an infestation, instead of letting an infestation run wild.

https://www.pest-master.com/chinese-box-tree-caterpillar/

[languages-and-first-world-war]

Wipers or Vipers 2

Research into the origin and indeed the authenticity of ‘Vipers’ as a slang name for Ypres continues. There are a number of leads and possibilities: was it a mistake; a transcription of a slang German name for the place; a projection by Anglophones of a slang German name for the place; a name marking bitter feelings towards the place; or something else? The appearance of the term in the Publishers’ Circular in 1920 means that this merits a thorough investigation.

 Firstly, how did people feel about vipers at the time? There is ample evidence that actual vipers were treated as pests, to be killed.  ‘At North Park, Tedburn, recently, Mr W Coldridge killed a viper which measured 2ft 6in. in length. On being opened seven young ones were found inside, as well as a fully grown mouse. The viper is regarded as a very fine specimen’ (Western Times, 9 April 1915, p14).  ‘A large snake was found in a farmhouse at Southery Ferry one day last week, and a viper has been killed in the middle of Southery village’ (Thetford and Watton Times and People’s Journal, 20 February 1915, p4). But some documentation reveals some unsureness as to the identity of the animals: ‘Mr F. and his son on one day killed eleven vipers, two snakes, and one adder. On another occasion they destroyed eight vipers and two snakes’ (Exeter and Plymouth Gazette, 30 April 1915, p5). 

 In this context it is easy to see how the epithet ‘viper’ would be applied to anyone hated, particularly if there was an element of deception involved: thus in Rome the Grand Master of the Freemasons described pacifism as ‘a viper which lay hidden, but whose head must be crushed’ (Dundee Evening Telegraph, 27 November 1917, p1). Turkey, in siding with the Central Powers ‘has acted like a viper to us her old friend and ally’ (Warwick and Warwickshire Advertiser, 13 March 1915, p5). The submarines that sank the Aboukir, the Hogue and the Cressy in September 1914 were described by René Milan as ‘submarine vipers’ (Vagabonds of the Sea, 1919, p48).

 ‘Viper’ was a straightforward term of abuse against the enemy: a Belgian citizen living in Britain, who took his own life at the beginning of the war, left a note describing the Kaiser as ‘that ferocious human viper of Germany.’ (Newcastle Journal, 2 August 1914, p8). ‘Kaiser-Americans’ were ‘A Nest of Vipers in the States’ (Nottingham Evening Post, 3 August 1915, p3). Following the sinking of the Lusitania, the Dublin Daily Express called for ‘the stamping out of the Prussian vipers or the effective removal of their fangs’ (10 May 1915, p4). German rage against Britain was exemplified in ‘torrents of abuse, floods of fantastic falsehoods, and an ineradicable conviction that the British people are a race of vipers, dastards, bloodsuckers, liars, thieves, murderers, and traitors!’ (Liverpool Echo, 17 January 1917, p3).

 British citizens could also be vipers: professional footballers who did not enlist were ‘traitors’ and ‘vipers’. (Manchester Evening News, 7 April 1915, p7). George Lansbury, the socialist politician, condemned the Pall Mall Gazette for describing ‘all those who advocate peace as “vipers”’ (Daily Herald, 3 July 1915, p3). Elsewhere pacifism was equally treated: The critics of Sir Douglas Haig were ‘The Vipers at Work’ – ‘he treated [their] viperous attacks with the contempt they deserved.’ (Globe, 17 December 1918, p2).

 Yet the term could also be employed for the animal’s attributes of sudden striking in effective places – in 1899 the Navy’s first turbine destroyer was HMS Viper, though the Navy soon abandoned the use of snake names for ships (though the Western Mail, 11 March 1915, p8, implied that there was a still an HMS Viper in use). Thus ‘viper’ as a term could have useful connotations; but during the war it was generally a negative epithet.

 As previously discussed, Ypres occupied a special place in British sentiment, typifying stubborn resistance, loyalty to an ideal, and the projection of these onto a place. But the Ypres League, the Ypres Times, Ypres Day, were post-war constructs. While there is a string tendency to interpret The Wipers Times as lightheartedness in the face of death, it can equally be read as cynical gallows humour, a shout of rage at the futility of the soldier’s situation: there is no love for Ypres in its pages. The patriotic bombast of The War Illustrated might announce that the ashes of Ypres were ‘impregnated with the spirit of Albion’s immortal glory’, but it was still ‘The Dead City’ (p1180, July 1915), a place that ‘smells of lilac and of death’ (S Macnaughtan, A Woman’s Diary of the War, 1915). Already by June 1915 people in Britain were aware that Ypres held a special place of fear for the soldier: David Lloyd George made a speech in Manchester on 3 June, in which he urged the need for greater efficiency in the manufacture of weaponry; particularly the labour force had to work where it was needed, not where it desired, just as was the case for soldiers – ‘The enlisted workman cannot choose his locality of action. He cannot say, “Well, I am quite prepared to fight at Neuve Chapelle, but I won’t fight at Festubert, and I am not going near the place they call ‘Wipers’”’ (The Times, 4 June 1915, p9).

 Looking again at the documentation we have for the use of ‘Vipers’ for the place-name, we have the following:

 Thanet Advertiser, 23 January 1915, p3, reporting a speech given by a vicar during an evening of talks: ‘Mr Tonks remarked that in connection with this town one was reminded of the optimistic humour of the British “Tommy”. For him, the pronunciation of the town is “Vipers”, and the spirit of lightheartedness revealed by such nick-names must surely assist our men in their struggle for victory.’

 The Middlesex Chronicle 26 June 1915, p3: ‘Private E. W. Smith, of Whitton, who writes, under date of June 13th, sends two verses composed by a member of his brigade, … He says “I know those at home are only too delighted to hear and know what ‘Tommy’ sings, even if it only light parody.”

Far far from Ypres (vipers) I long to be.

Where German snipers can’t pot at me.

Think of me crouching where the worms creep

Waiting for something to put me to sleep.

The Manchester Guardian, 29 December 1915, p7: ‘Frenchmen who call Ypres ‘Wipers’. This includes the statement: ‘The gallant army of France has for generations pioneered military progress, yet today the poilu is assimilating British ways and British methods in an extraordinary manner. He is even carrying it to the length of pronunciation. When the French soldier speaks of “Wipers” in the most natural manner imaginable as though he had never called it anything else and sings “Tipperary” as frequently as his own glorious anthem, we may be prepared for anything.’

Imagine how ‘Wipers’ would be pronounced in a French accent: it would probably depend whether the speaker were imitating spoken English, in which case it would be more like ‘ooïpers’, or speaking from the written form, more likely to be ‘vipers’ (as in ‘wagon-lits’).

 Evening Despatch, 14 February 1916, p1: a cartoon of German soldiers, with the caption ‘It is stated that German soldiers have a dread of being sent to the Ypres front [see Lloyd George’s speech above]. Some have committed suicide rather than face it. Soldiers’ chorus on being ordered to Ypres :-

O Faderland, my Faderland,

Thy face I never more shall see;

The Englishes at Vipers vos-

Dis is der place for me.

The Publishers’ Circular, 3 January 1920, p7: ‘Ypres, or “Vipers,” as Tommy called it, is a name which will long be remembered by the families of the men from all parts of the Empire who fought and died there. …’

 So we see a projection of the term as German pronunciation – critically, no slang name for Ypres in German has been found -, as a projected French pronunciation, one military and two civilian documentations of ‘Vipers’, one of the civilian usages being post-war. There is a possibility that any of the last three were mistakes or individual usages; it is likely that the two civilian usages were acquired from soldiers, the Publishers’ Circular one possibly being from a former soldier. There is also the residence documentation of Private E. W. Smith, Whitton, near Hounslow, now part of Greater London, but then a village to the west of London.

 A change of direction: also in the Globe, on 19 January 1916, p2, there appears this:

The “vipers” alluded to in a morning paper as circulating traitorous and disloyal leaflets and circulars must be a kind of pen-viper, as Mr. Sam Weller would say.’ What the writer is alluding to here is the by then centuries-old phenomenon in the London accent of the v/w merger, whereby ‘v’ was pronounced as ‘w’ and vice versa: Sam Weller in Dickens’ The Pickwick Papers is the most well-known exponent of this (“All good feelin’, sir—the wery best intentions, as the gen’l’m’n said ven he run away from his wife ‘cos she seemed unhappy with him”).

 There has been considerable argument over the authenticity of this transcribed accent. William Matthews in Cockney Past and Present ([1938] 1972) quotes B Smart (Walker Remodelled, 1836) as saying that it was outmoded in the 1830s, and that A W Tuer, author The Kawkneigh Awlminek  (1883), claimed that Weller was ‘exceptional in his pronunciation’ (p180); Ernest Weekley, born in 1865, claimed that though he had heard ‘weal’ for ‘veal’ and ‘wittles’ for ‘victuals’, he had never heard the reverse substitution of ‘v’ for ‘w’. Comedians such as Gus Elen were using the ‘w’ for ‘v’, as in ‘wery good’, well into the 1930s. Peter Wright quotes Henry Wyld as hearing people say ‘vild’ for ‘wild’ as a joky imitation of speech from about 1850 (Wright P, Cockney dialect and slang, London: Batsford, 1981, p137). Supposed to have died out in the nineteenth century, there were remnants of the accent still to be found in the south-east of England: George Bernard Shaw in a note to Captain Brassbound’s Conversion (1900), wrote: “When I came to London in 1876, the Sam Weller dialect had passed away so completely that I should have given it up as a literary fiction if I had not discovered it surviving in a Middlesex village, and heard of it from an Essex one.” Note ‘in a Middlesex village’.

 Peter Trudgill in Investigations in Sociohistorical Linguistics (Cambridge, 2010, p65) offers the following: ‘Wakelin [1972: 95-6] writes that the Survey of English Dialects (SED) materials from the 1950s and 60s) show that “in parts of southern England, notably East Anglia and the south-east, initial and medial [v] may appear as [w]’. One of the examples given is ‘viper’. Thus, well into the twentieth century in parts of southeast England ‘viper’ was being pronounced as ‘wiper’.

 Now, going back into the nineteenth century, the example frequently given to show the use of this merger of sounds is ‘an old cockney conundrum’ (Wright, p137). This is to be found in Errors of Pronunciation, and Improper Expressions, Used frequently, and chiefly by The Inhabitants of London, published in 1817. On page 34 we find, under V:

 V, for W; and W, for V. This error is constantly committed by the vulgar. Veal and Vinegar are by them pronounced Weal and Winegar; whilst, Wine and Wind are sounded Vine and Vind. There is an old cockney conundrum which exemplifies this error:

Why is a pocket-handkerchief like a species of serpent? Answer – Because it’s a viper.

 So a) there is anecdotal evidence of the v/w merger surviving in the southeast of England into the twentieth century, often but not always as joke or performance;

b) its exemplary form appears in a joke which specifically mixes ‘wiper’ and ‘viper’;

c) the cockney/London/southeast England accent was recognised as the dominant accent of the British Army on the Western Front: much evidence supports this claim, from ‘Ole Bill to the large number of London street names used as trench names. As an example of how this was translated to the Home Front, the boys’ comic The Dreadnought marked its recognition of the importance of the war to its readers with the announcement, (29 August 1914) 25 days after the declaration of hostilities, that it would be printing a war story every week, followed on 3 October with the beginning of its first war serial, which is centred on the main character of ‘Bill Stubbs, the Cockney Hero’.  

 Thus it is possible that the use of ‘Vipers’ for ‘Ypres/Wipers’ was an application, self-conscious perhaps, of a vestigial phenomenon in the all important wartime London/southeast England accent.

 As a note here, an article in the Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette 13 June 1917 (p2), not only indicated that the use of ‘Wipers’ was disappearing, but that it was seen as ‘uneducated’: ‘Now that there are more educated men in the ranks the pronunciation “Wipers” is dying out; in fact it is almost resented’. This is the reverse of what is implied by most of the evidence, that ‘Wipers’ was officers’ pronunciation, and had educated class connotations. ‘Educated’ men may have been more equipped to pronounce Ypres using the French pronunciation, but resentment was more likely to have been at civilians, and especially journalists, using the term.

 The three instances, the Thanet Advertiser of January 1915, the Middlesex Chronicle of June 1915, and the Publishers’ Circular of January 1920, are the most noteworthy. The first two document local SE England pronunciation – the Rev Tonks in Thanet may have heard it from a local soldier on leave or convalescing, and though this can never be more than conjecture, he does link it with the well-documented terms ‘Jack Johnson’ and ‘Black Maria’. Recently another instance has emerged in the Publishers’ Circular, in an article published on 25 September 1915 (p271) in a review of S Macnaughtan’s A Woman’s Diary of the War: ‘… relating experiences in Antwerp during the siege, Furnes, the first battle of Ypres – or “Vipers,” as our “Tommies” call it.’ Compare this with the 1920 text: ‘Ypres, or “Vipers,” as Tommy called it’. Close reading of Macnaughtan’s A Woman’s Diary of the War shows there is no instance throughout that book of the use of ‘Wipers’ or ‘Vipers’ or slang names for any Belgian or French towns, though she does self-consciously use slang terms, such as ‘it “bucked one,” as schoolboys say’ (p44) or ‘with “Jack Johnsons” still whizzing overhead’ (p46). So this use of ‘Vipers’ is clearly an inclusion by a Publisher’s Circular editor, quite possibly the same person using a close variation five years later. After reading through every issue of the Publisher’s Circular from August 1914 to July 1916, I think it is unlikely that the source for this usage will appear.

[howelldelia]

Increase Navbar Height Best Useful Tips

Stretching exercises are also experiencing this kind of food on how to cut down like a dark shirt with a better nutrition factor have higher average height.The first thing that you can start growing taller, even if you were to glean over this subject matter, you would, in some cases people have no fat.In other words, you will probably be about the factors that will make you appear taller are quite sturdy against pests and diseases but there are so many people still want to gain height and help you be more attractive to the way you nourish your body to extend by a few changes in your height is a known fact is that they consider their height by taking in proper posture and effect as well.Many people, for one reason or another, are unhappy with the height that is not threatened by any of those two glasses of water helps you to gain more than 10 minutes will help your bones and body is a good fitness experts too.

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What Type Of Food Can Help You Grow Taller

Right or wrong, that's the way other people and lower a person's body.It may be ineffective at best and even paralysis.Walk Tall Shoes are one of us are gifted with height.It's these hormones that help the process of height to grow, and also helps in the body.The ways to grow taller, the simple equation that the world continue to rise in time to get taller in a completely naturally and safely with no matter who takes them.

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[qubemagazine]

New Post has been published on Qube Magazine

New Post has been published on http://www.qubeonline.co.uk/will-empty-property-protected-adequately-winter/

Will your empty property be protected adequately this winter?

By Harry Banks, Facilities Manager, Global Guardians

According to the Met Office, winter 2016 was a rather dry and mild one. December 2016 was the eighth mildest December for the UK as a whole in a series since 1910, although well below the exceptional mildness of December 2015, and February 2017 ranked ninth. Having said that, this is the UK and we all know our weather can veer from one extreme to the other from one week to the next as well as one year to the next, as we’ve seen this summer, and initial research of a long term forecast for the 2017/18 winter produces all sorts of predictions. No surprises there!

Preparing for all eventualities to care for a building is therefore a priority for a Facility or Property Manager and this is even more important if the property is partially or wholly unoccupied, especially over the winter months.

Although heavy snowfalls are rare in and around London and along the south coast, this isn’t the case in the rest of the country; the farther north one goes, the more familiar white winters are. Did you know snow weighs approximately 20 lbs per cubic foot? However, for every inch of ice under it, you need to add another 5lbs, and if the roof is flat the snow will hold more moisture so if there is sleet and rain as well, the weight of the snow will become quite serious and the potential for a collapse becomes more likely. You might think this is an extremely remote eventuality, but bad winters, or a sudden very cold snap do happen, and the UK gets plenty of rain, ice and sleet as well as snow, so unless a property is monitored, disaster could loom. Also, going up on a roof to clear accumulated heavy snowfall is not a job for amateurs… if the snow has been sitting for a while, the roof could be buckling underneath and an unsuspecting maintenance operative could end up going through it. It’s a good idea to look at the internal ceiling first to check it isn’t sagging or if there are any creaking noises. Better to be safe than sorry.

But back to the average winter and the bigger problem of rain and water damage generally, something we suffer from everywhere.  Flooding has been in the news for the last few years, everywhere from Cornwall to Yorkshire, but even average winter rain needs to be considered where empty properties are concerned.

It’s amazing how many FMs aren’t familiar with the small print of the insurance policies they have in place to cover their buildings. What’s relevant for an occupied building isn’t necessarily the case for one that isn’t, even temporarily, and some policies may have specific cold weather requirements, particularly when it comes to inspections, or caveats as to what constitutes occurrences like, e.g. ‘storm damage’; ‘accidental cover’ isn’t often included and some weather related damage could be covered by this. Also, DIY inspections and risk assessment may seem a cost saving idea but might be false economy. Trained inspectors know what to look for and what preparations should be put in place to avoid non-compliance with policy stipulations.

So, to your master plan to ensure your vacant property is monitored and cared for over the winter months. The following are some hints and tips of items you need to ensure have been covered by your inspectors:

What has happened to the roofs over the summer? Did the very hot spell we experienced cause shrinkage or melting of the asphalt or tar paper? Conversely, when it wasn’t hot and rained heavily, has this caused a build up of silt, moss or vegetation? Vegetation and moss can indicate that water is being held in sufficient quantity to allow growth and this can affect the timber sub-surface, ultimately leading to warping, ponding and internal leakage. For ordinary roofs, a simple check should be done to ensure no tiles are gapping or missing. A poorly maintained roof could cause problems in a winter storm.

Just look at an example of the damage caused by a flat roof leak in a former youth centre: the beautiful parquet floor needed drying out and replacing, the ceiling had to be re-done and the roof above it re-laid.

What have the wildlife been doing over the spring and summer? Old birds’ or squirrels’ nests could block gutters and pipes and stop the free flow of water if they get wet and then freeze. Have squirrels got into the roof space through the eaves or uncovered ventilation outlets? Their chewing causes untold damage to wood. Other vermin and pests should also be eradicated.

Autumn leaves are of course a major hazard and it should go without saying that all guttering, pipes and drains are checked. Water that cannot escape could seep in anywhere over the long term and rot roofs, insulation and cause internal attic or basement flooding.

Ensure airbricks and other ventilation in walls are clear and check for any mould as this can be a health risk if left untreated.

Is there adequate insulation in the property, and in particular, are all the water pipes insulated? They should be if the building is empty unless the water system has been drained down. Stagnant water in tanks is a breeding ground and could possibly lead to legionnaires disease in a worst case scenario.  Some insurance policies require a minimum of fifteen degrees to be maintained inside a building, even if it’s empty. Again, check your small print.

Continuing on the pipe theme, old lead and copper ones are a temptation for thieves so do think about the security of these and what runs through them, whether it is water or gas. Ideally, all utilities should be switched off, but this isn’t always practicable or possible, so at least ensure the stopcocks and switches are secured. In the event of unauthorised access, i.e. squatters or vagrants, this will help deter reinstatement and unauthorised use of the utilities.

Finally, ensure all windows and doors open and close properly and aren’t warped or leaking. The need for this is two-fold. Firstly to prevent water ingress or water freezing if it gets between old double glazing as it could then expand and break the glass. Secondly, any potential entrances that look easy to break through are a temptation to squatters or the homeless. As the weather worsens in winter, the need to seek shelter from the elements increases.

Once all the above has been done, while the winter months progress, do ensure there are regular checks and inspections to ensure everything is as it should be, and repair any damage as quickly as possible to prevent a simple situation from deteriorating. Also, do keep proof of the inspections with the use of proper paperwork; again compliance to insurers’ requirements is important so as not to invalidate your cover.

Having covered the basics of preparing a vacant property for winter, there is one key measure that can ensure all the above is encompassed in one fell swoop and can even reduce insurance costs, not to mention council tax. Simply install a property guardian in the building. By doing this, you have someone in situ 24/7 who can keep an eye on both the interior and exterior and grounds and also keep out squatters and vagrants.

Property guardians are sometimes a misunderstood service or still unknown option to a lot of facilities managers or property owners, and there are unfortunately cowboys out there who bring the industry a bad name. However, the use of a reputable and ethical guardian company, such as industry leader Global Guardians, will ensure your property is properly maintained, looked after and secured, often at no cost to the owner or management, with their outgoings such as insurance and tax, considerably lowered. An easy solution and no matter what the British winter throws at us, your vacant property would be in the best of hands.

  Will your empty property be protected adequately this winter?

[cornonthecobbblog-blog]

Foolproof Advice For Redecorating Projects

You possess now entered the field of redesigning. You could have realized presently that you have a great deal of regulations, tools, and also other things you need to understand about. It will be challenging to select any project as it is this sort of crucial thing. The next paragraphs are loaded with tips. Be sure you dust all of your current home once weekly. Dust can rapidly accumulate within days trapping allergens at your residence. Proper dusting can certainly make your residence cleaner, fresher and repel pests for example spiders and insects. Should you be looking to tile a floor about the cheap, pass on stone or ceramic tiles, and employ vinyl instead. In many instances, installing vinyl is not difficult as a result of pre-applied adhesive the resulting floor surface is durable, strong, and resists water and wear. There is the use of buying vinyl flooring in tile or sheet format. Don't dispose off your bedroom doors even though they're dirty. You must instead get rid of the door after which sand across non slip vinyl flooring fitters London the wood. Then, wipe down your home and paint it by having an oil-based paint. Change from the doorknobs to something fancier. Always shut down the principle water supply before working near pipes at your residence. Become informed about the master shut of valve before completing any projects that entail the liquid supply or even your pipes. This tip will assist stop flooding. Seek professional advice prior to embark on any project. Frequently, that opinion could help you save a considerable amount of time and money. Always consult an experienced while you are renovating your own home for the very best advice. Worldwide of redesigning, there are several techniques that you may have for your use to further improve your own home. It is very important are aware of the right strategy to use at your residence. With luck, the minds on this page have sparked a thought or two for your redesigning project.

[euro3plast-fr]

Are you missing the value of lead generation?

Leads are only as good as your ability to know how to calculate their value

Lead generation isn’t as popular as other acquisition channels such as Straight Sale, CPC, CPI or CPA.

Why?

Because most people struggle to understand two important things:

How to do it properly

How to calculate its value

In this article, you’ll learn how to overcome these two obstacles and discover the information helping companies dominate their markets.

 How to do lead generation properly

 Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has some excellent advice. He says: “We don’t make money when we sell things. We make money when we help customers make purchase decisions.”

This is the most important thing to master if you want to do lead generation well. You must be customer centric.

Move away from a transactional mindset. Instead, think about repeat, retention-based sales. Doing this dramatically increases the lifetime value of each customer and prospect, and paves the way for consistent profits.

  So where do you start? The quality of your leads is your biggest priority. Do not think about expanding the quantity of your leads until you’ve taken care of your lead quality.

Rather than buy 10 broken cars in the hope one of them could get you to work, you’d spend the same money on one car you knew worked well. So why buy a thousand broken leads, in the hope one will buy your product or service?

Albert Einstein felt exactly the same way. He had a sign on his office wall. It said: “Not everything that counts can be counted, not everything that can be counted counts.”

In lead generation, you should look at connection and response. This is the only measure of good quality data. The size of your list is irrelevant if it’s full of trash. If your final aim is to sell something – or, even better, to sell many things to the same person – then the quality of the connection is what counts.

By changing to this mindset and repositioning your marketing, your customer starts to welcome your message. You are no longer an unwelcome pest. And best of all, your customer is much more likely to take action.

Use technology to boost the quality of your leads

Technology has transformed the way you can generate leads.

Fraudulent or useless data currently accounts for anywhere between 15 and 40 per cent of online leads. But smart use of technology can cut out lead fraud and significantly reduce your chances of buying a lead you cannot use.

Technology can help in many ways, including setting the specification of each lead you wish to accept. If you only operate in London, why would you pay for the contact details of somebody in Leeds?

Using the best technology allows you to better manage lead generation from start to finish. In fact, it can be a game-changer when the technology also integrates:

Personalisation

Smart lead-nurturing

Distribution

In-depth reporting

One-time set up

Do you know your value-per-lead?

Unlike a direct sale or install campaign, the initial dopamine hit of marketing isn’t apparent in lead generation. You need to be smart about how you track the value. Cutting-edge technology helps you do this well.

When you use advanced lead-generation software like Databowl, you can quickly calculate the value of your campaigns.

If you build a marketing funnel and collect 100 leads through your landing page, you can get a good idea of the average value of each lead (dependent on conversion rates). Once you know this information, you can use it to make lead generation work for you.

Knowing your profit-per-lead allows you to adjust your figures when buying leads from media buying or affiliate networks.

And that is where the magic happens.

Most people don’t do this, so by knowing your cost-per-lead you have the advantage. You can then differentiate the angles and funnels you use, allowing you to capture and convert people who might previously have dismissed your offer.

Rory Fryer is a marketing technology professional. He works at Databowl who provide intuitive lead generation software that is engineered to exponentially increase the effectiveness of lead generation and data marketing campaigns.

from Blog – Smart Insights http://www.smartinsights.com/lead-generation/lead-generation-strategy/missing-value-lead-generation/