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insomniaruler · 2 years ago

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what if... Margaret "Maggie" Lang was also dusted

(1 min post snap)

Jim Paxton was driving home to Maggie and Cassie when it happened. it was apocalyptic as cars swerved and crashed into telephone polls and fire hydrants. Paxton swerved out of the way of a vehicle that suddenly stopped. Jumping out of the car he looked around as other people climbed out of their vehicles.

"what in the holy hell." he muttered to himself looking into the empty car he almost hit. and then his phone started ringing, it was Maggie. "Mags thank god your oka-" "Jimmy!" Cassie's wet voice sobbed over the phone. "Cass are you okay? are you hurt? Where's your mother? Can you put her on the line?" He asked softly as a woman started screaming for her son.

"I CAN'T" Cassie sobbed. "Alright, Cassie I need you to take a deep breath with me alright?" And Paxton took an exaggerated breath and Cassie followed. "Alright. now tell me why your mom can't answer the phone." He started to pace. "She- she... we we're getting ready to go skating like you said we could but then- then she just dissipated!" Cassie sobbed. Paxton cursed looking at the road covered in immovable cars. "Cassie stay on the line i'm ten minuets out, i'll be there soon don't worry we'll figure everything out. okay?" He asked as he started running to the house in slacks and work pants.

-- (2 weeks post snap)

"Still no sign of Scott?" Paxton asked Kurt. "No, I think it's time to admit. Scott Lang is another victim of Thanos." The Russian admitted with a bowed head. "Okay." Jim swallowed before turning to go to Cassie's room. "Cass?" He asked knocking. "come in." She said from behind the door.

It had been a rough couple weeks for the duo and Cassie's hair showed it. Kurt had braided it a week ago and the braid was still in and frizzy. "We can't- I can't find any evidence that your dad is still around." Jim said sitting on the rumpled bed. Cassie's wail permeated his soul.

-- (4 weeks post snap)

"Margaret Lang gave you tertiary power of attorney you are the primary guardian once you sign this paper." The rumpled lawyer said sliding over a paper. With out a second glance Paxton signed the legal document.

He had taken all his carefully curated leave days to stay home with Cassie as schools were closed indefinitely. the 10 year old had been grieving for of her parents and Paxton mourned his fiancée, together they held celebrations of life for all there fallen loved ones. Paxton had also lost his mother and Sister to Thanos.

-- (5 1/2 months post snap)

"the body when an organ is removed fill's the spot with the other organs, in this fashion the world kept turning and the pit's of grief are covered. But treat these as traps because if you step wrong you will fall into the pit." Cassie said as she read aloud a paragraph she had written for her classes grief wall. "It's amazing Cass." Jim assured her, knowing that english was her least favourite subject; just like Scott in that aspect. "Do you think it's too callous?" She wondered, biting her lip. "No. I think it's perfect kid." He smiled reassuringly.

-- (10 months post snap)

"Hey kid remember what I said about keeping the likelihood of electrical fires top a minimum?" He asked leaning against the smoking work bench in the basement, surveying the tools/half finished projects spread out across the surface. "Sorry Jimmy." Cassie said putting down her fire extinguisher. "It's fine I just don't want you to get hurt." He said messing up her hair.

-- (1 1/2 years post snap)

"Cass remember when you said you wanted to get stronger?" Jim asked when she opened the door. "Yeah?" She said questioningly while taking off her helmet. "I've got some guys down at the station ready to teach you to box." He said placing a set of grey and red boxing gloves on the counter. "eeee thank you Jimmy!!" She bounced smiling brightly.

--(2 years post snap)

They stood holding candles and flowers at the San Francisco memorial. "Hey Maggie..." Paxton said tracing her name on the stone. "I really hope i'm not fucking up too badly down here." He whispered glancing over to Cassie who was staring at Scotts name. "She's a damn good kid Scotty." He smiled ruefully.

--(2 4/12 years post snap)

"Jimmy I need you to buy pads while you're out." Cassie said peeking into the front hall. "okay kiddo you need anything else? Advil?" Paxton asked. "no thanks Jimmy." Cassie flashed him a smile.

-- (2 7/12 years post snap)

Cassie smiled brightly over the ice cream cake that Kurt had brought in. "Thanks Kurt!" She exclaimed. "it is no problem little жук*." he said smiling. "Really Kurt thanks I couldn't stop anywhere after this god damn vigilante case." Paxton said smiling. "Ah yes ze Beetle?" Kurt asked. "That's the one." Jim groaned. And Kurt side eyed Cassie who ducked behind her cake to hide her smile

*жук is Russian for Beetle (according to google translate)

-- (3 1/2 years post snap)

"Are you the Beetle?" Paxton asked sitting down across the table. "Whhaatttt noooo." Cassie said not breaking eye contact. "Kid you have piles of Pym tech on your work bench and the beginnings of Pym particle extraction down there." Paxton said raising an eye brow. "Alright fine. I'm the beetle. What are you going to do? If you try to arrest me I could just run. I'm just trying to help people..." Cassie said with a glare.

"I'm not going to arrest you, Scott and Maggie would haunt me. But i do have some rules." Paxton said squinting at the smaller girl who nodded. "Cerfew is 10 pm on a school night, 12 on the weekends. We both take basic medical training, you keep your studies up." Paxton said writing down the three rules. "Ugh fine." she huffed.

-- (3 8/12 years post snap)

it finally happened Cassie got stabbed. "Jim Paxton, leave a message i'm busy. or try again later." she sobbed as the phone beeped. "he-hey Jimmy i-i'm hurt. I'm in that alleyway on 24th. I know you've been working nights so you could look out for me. so I know your probably in an interrogation. I'm so sorry Jimmy..." and she cut the message off and closed her eyes

"I swear I'm a magnet for these stupid ass vigilante types. I moved out here so i wouldn-" A woman's voice faded in and out of her hearing.

Cassie woke up in a softly lit apartment. "Ya know i think you vigilante types are getting younger and younger." Turning her head she saw a pretty woman in a cardigan. "He-Hello?" She stuttered out. "I'm Claire, you?" Claire asked. "Cassie." Cassie said nodding. "You've 77 missed calls from a 'Jim the Cop' by the way." Claire said passing her the bloody phone. Cassie groaned and hit call.

-- (4 5/12 years post snap)

"Hey Jimmy?" She asked approaching the the police officer's office. "Yeah Cass?" He asked looking up from his files. "I like girls." She said quickly. "So you finally figured it out!" He smiled widely. "You you knew?" Cassie asked, shocked. "Yeah, you've loved girls since you were eight." He chuckled.

-- (5 1/2 years post snap)

Jim looked at the man asleep on his couch. "Cass am i hallucinating or is Scott Lang having a nap on my sofa?" he asked. "Yep!" She smiled as she turned on their beloved coffee pot.

#what if...?#Margaret Lang was snapped #cassie lang #jim paxton #claire temple #vigilante cassie lang #Jim Paxton my beloved #Claire Temple is so done

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electricopolis-net · 3 years ago

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S02E06: The Game Show Killer (Part 2)

2. The New Normal

Bob Sparker remembered the feeling of the VHS tape inside his jacket, the hard plastic pressing against his ribs. He remembered laughing as he walked home, swaying from side to side, bruised and aching from his altercation at the Paradise Hotel. Paulina Sweet had tried to make him defect from his company, and her henchmen had beaten him when it hadn’t worked, but Bob was the one who had stolen the only bargaining chip she had.

The tape was a gritty, grainy, almost certainly faked piece of evidence implicating Percy King in rigging his game shows. There were too many holes in her story to make it likely that she was telling the truth, but it didn’t matter one way or the other. Bob was nothing like her, and Mr. King was nothing like that. Neither of them could be manipulated so easily. After all, not even a string of scandals could oust Sparker from his place at the top of the ratings.

So he returned to his work with a newfound zeal. He watched over his contestants, cheered them as they endured the gauntlet of electric shocks, and far more often comforted them as they surrendered; and more than one, this time, left in a stretcher. But that was fine, because there were always more lining up to take their place. His electric chair was never empty.

And gradually, contestant by contestant, episode by episode, Bob Sparker began to change…

Margaret King stood in the corner of Bob Sparker's dressing room, her arms folded in disdain. The star himself was seated at his large mirrored vanity, with Mr. Percy King, his boss and Margaret's father, seated close by.

“What’s wrong with these people?” Bob complained loudly, pulling at his white hair with his brush. “Mr. King, you gotta get me some better contestants. These ones are made out of paper. They can’t even take a little shock.”

“They can take a little shock,” Margaret said, “but that's not what you're giving them. You have to be more careful, Bob.”

“She has a point,” Percy mused, stroking his chin. “Remember what happened with Miss Lang.”

“Miss Lang was a fluke,” Bob snapped. “How long are you two gonna lord that over me? Besides, if you got me someone bigger--someone tougher--then we wouldn't have to worry about it, right?”

“You're missing the point,” Margaret argued. “These aren't just toys for you to play with, Bob. They're real people.”

“They’re real people who line up around the block to get a shot on my show,” he retorted, jabbing his hairbrush towards her. “As far as I'm concerned, for the half-hour I've got them in that electric chair, I can do whatever I want to them!”

“Within reason,” Percy coughed.

“Within reason,” Bob added quickly. “And they eat it up and beg me for more. You've seen them,” he said. “So what's the problem?”

“The problem is--” Margaret struggled to get the words out. She gestured emptily, frustrated, and then finally turned to her father. “Dad, tell him it's not right!”

Percy glanced between them, his brow furrowed in thought, and then he let out a nervous, unnatural-sounding laugh. “Now, now, no fighting,” he said patronizingly. “Margie, you don't have to worry. I'll make sure to find someone sturdy enough for Bob's show.”

“That's not what I--” she began.

“Actually, there is something,” he said, opening one eye slowly. “Have you heard of this fellow making the rounds on daytime TV?”

“Who?” Bob asked. “The guy who won at the quiz show? The one with the bag on his head?”

“The very same. He was on The Twenty-One just last week and swept the whole show. A flawless victory, start to finish.”

Bob rolled this around in his mind. “That blackjack show? What, did he count cards or something?”

Percy shook his head. “Impossible. They have a machine shuffle after every hand. I had a look at the footage,” he explained. “It looks legitimate to me. It’ll have to go to air, now. Not a good look for The Twenty-One.”

“Yeah, well, that’s their problem.” Bob nearly turned around again before doing a double take. “Wait, are you saying you want that guy on my show? Seriously?”

“Why not? He’s certainly drumming up some hype.”

“Hah!” Bob Sparker barked out his sharp, high-pitched laugh. “Gambling and memorizing trivia answers is one thing, but that doesn’t mean he can make it in the electric chair. Gimme a call when he does something really amazing.”

Percy smiled. “Well,” he said slyly, “rumor has it that he’s supposed to be running Concrete Jungle right now. Maybe you should turn on the television and take a look.”

Bob stared at him for a moment suspiciously, then grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV that sat in the corner of his dressing room.

Concrete Jungle was a physical challenge show where athletes scaled an obstacle course. On the television, there was a slow pan up a twisted structure of metal and piping. On the starting platform, high up above the crowd, was the indistinct silhouette of a man.

“Our next contestant wishes not to be named,” whispered the show’s commentator. “He’s known by his fans as the ‘Game Show Killer.’”

The camera cut to a close-up; his body looked disappointingly average. Bob expected either the lithe, sinewy runner-type that usually excelled on Concrete Jungle or, his favorite, the hulking sides of beef who likely pushed people around at their day job. This man was neither. His eyes peered out from his dark executioner’s hood, and, wordlessly, he stepped forward to begin.

“So that’s your mystery man,” Margaret said. “Why’s he hiding his face?”

“Not even I know the answer to that one,” Percy confessed. “But maybe Bob here can be the one to find out. Now, look. He’s starting.”

The bell sounded. The man rocketed forward off of the starting area with a running leap. He tucked and rolled carefully as he hit the next platform, and then the next. He jumped up, grasping the rings that dangled from a bar, and swung his body through the air. The man’s movements were practiced, workmanlike, almost mechanical. Despite that, there was a piercing look in his eyes, a hunger that Bob recognized but couldn’t place. Who was this guy?

Suddenly, flames roared up from beneath him. Sweat began to bead on his arms and legs. His hand slipped--he swayed--he recovered--and Bob Sparker realized he’d been leaning forward, right on the edge of his seat.

The masked man shimmied up a rope, picked up a rubber hammer, and swung it hard at the bell. The sound roared out over the cheers of the audience as a rain of confetti fell from above.

“Well.” Bob leaned back and turned off the TV. “I see why you like him.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know. Something about him annoys me. The ‘Game Show Killer.’ Hmph.” Bob kicked up his feet and crossed one leg over the other. “Winning over and over...it goes right to your head. I think I’d be doing him a favor by taking him down a peg, don’t you think?”

“Doing him a favor?” Percy chuckled. “Now, now. You don't have to justify it to me. If you want him, he's yours.”

Margaret glanced between Bob Sparker and her father, the two of them laughing with each other. A chill crawled along her arms, followed by the prickle of anger. She turned and grabbed the doorknob, shutting the door with a slam.

She stood there outside the dressing room, rubbing at her face with her hands. Fine, she thought. Put him on. I hope he really does kill your show.

#eletricopolis #the game show killer #bob sparker #percy m. king #margaret king

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loove-persevering · 6 years ago

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Steve Rogers Imagine (ENDGAME SPOILERS)

Warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!! This is low key sad but it’s fine!

Description: You are on the mission with Steve and Tony when you realize the man you love is still in love with someone else, and her name is Peggy Carter.

I just started writing but I think this is really good and It took me forever to write, I think it turned out really good. Let me know if you want a part two!!!!!

You and Steve had been hosting meetings to help those that were struggling with the snap, it was something that generally made you both feel good to know you were doing something to help people, to help them grow. Listening to people’s stories and understanding that their pain was shared, and that their pain was felt by others helped, you thought. To feel misunderstood is one of the loneliest things, so this group helps people feel less alone even in a world where half of the population has reduced to ash. You get up from your seat quietly careful not to interrupt the man talking, you usher past Steve laying your hand on his shoulder squeezing it lightly before heading around the corner to the restroom.

You try and make it back quickly to hear the stories, make sure everyone felt as if they could share their personal stories with as many people as they could. The door we left open during meetings in case any stragglers wanted to come in last minute to get what they needed out in the open. When you reach that point you can hear Steve’s voice talking, ‘’I went into the ice in forty five, right after I met the love of my life,’’ He says. I put my hand over my mouth out of shock, I just didn’t know how to take what he said. ‘’You gotta move on,’’ He pauses for just a second, ‘’You gotta move on, because if not Thanos should’ve killed us all.’’ He says. Hearing him say that made me feel a bit better, but I still felt a weird about what he said.

I realize I’ve been gone for too long and the meeting was almost over, I quickly make my way back into the room taking my seat next to Steve, I look over to him giving him a smile.

‘’Everything okay?’’ He asks.

I cough, which was for sure a tell of mine when I was lying, ‘’Yeah,’’ I say smiling again at him. He knew I was lying but he chose to not say anything. ‘’We should go see Nat, I’m worried about her,’’ I say, and he nods his head in agreement. We stay for a few minutes until after everyone from the meeting has left and we head back to the compound.

●●●●

Things had quickly picked up from the time you had visited Natasha, Scott Lang who we all met a few years back came and basically told us about a time machine that could help us go back and get the stones and bring everyone back. It was a long shot and we had finally gotten everyone back Clint, Rocket, Nebula, Rhodey, Thor. We all had our missions I was set to go with Tony, Steve and Scott to help retrieve the stones.

Our mission quickly went to hell since Loki escaped with the Space Stone, I was retrieving the stones with Bruce but once he received the time stone I quickly told him to get the stone back to the compound and I would go check to make sure Steve, Tony and Scott all got the stones they needed. It was evident when I arrived to see Tony and Scott sitting in the car that they hadn’t gotten all the stones we needed. Steve arrived shortly after with the Mind Stone, of course he’d be the one to get everything done swiftly.

‘’There has to be another way!’’ I say. I can feel myself on the verge of tears, we were so close to getting everyone back. We all lost people in the snap, to think about the families, our support group, our team and how we were all affected it would mean more than anything to get everyone back.

I started to pace back and forth waiting trying to think of an idea to help us, but nothing I could think of would work not with Loki escaping we had no idea where he went. I can hear Steve calling my name in the background, trying to get me to calm down as he could tell I was panicking. I can hear Scott and Tony bantering back and forth at one another and then all of a sudden Tony swiftly gets up walking over to Steve, ‘’How vague?’’ Steve asks, I can tell he’s desperate if he’s talking about it being vague.

‘’I know they were there, and I know how I know,’’ Tony says, I see Scott raise his arms in disbelief.

‘’You realize if you’re wrong your not coming back? We have one particle each!’’ He says.

I see Tony look to Steve, ‘’Do you trust me?’’ Tony asks him.

‘’I do,’’ He answers, no hesitation in his voice.

‘’Me too,’’ I agree walking over to them, my suit appearing to match theirs. ‘’I’m going too and you can’t stop me. You guys might need help, or at least a lookout.’’ I say sounding more sure of myself then I was feeling.

Tony and Steve both glance at each other as if questioning me but to each other, Ultimately they agreed to let me go because they knew I’d find a way to make it to them and they didn’t want to risk losing anybody. ‘’Scott take that back to the compound,’’ I say sternly. He looks at us worried but agrees even though I know he’s strongly against our new mission. ‘’You’re sure about this?’’ I say giving a quick glance to Tony, he nods in agreement and I look to Steve, ‘’Let’s get it done then,’’ I say.

We all sync up heading to our location following the ways of the Quantum Realm back to S.H.I.E.L.D in 1970. Once we arrive we quickly discuss our missions and we are on our way. Steve’s job was getting more particles for our journey back, Tony’s was to find the Space Stone and mine was to mostly make sure neither of them got caught, specifically Steve since his was more public then where Tony was going. Steve makes a fake call to Hank Pym before slipping into his lab to find more particles while I kept a watch out a few doors down.

I notice a woman dressed in Blue walking up to guards so I make my way closer so I can hear her, ‘’Two men,’’ I hear her say along with the words suspicious. Shit.

I quickly make my way back down the hallway hearing her voice only a few back from mine, when we enter the hallway I speed walk as quickly as I can to Steve who’s walking down the hall toward me as well as the guards. We quickly usher into a room just as they pass us, we got lucky.

I kept myself near the door making sure everything was clear before turning around to find Steve holding a picture frame of himself before he was injected with the serum. I felt myself hold my breath as I knew the only person that would have this picture. Steve turns around just as I do to find the name Margaret Carter written on the door, this was her office. I look at Steve’s face and I can already tell by his expression he doesn’t know what to feel, or what to do. I hear voices coming close to us and then a door shut in the room that’s connected to Peggy’s office.

It was Peggy.

She was here, It made sense I didn’t even think about it before we came I’m sure Steve didn’t either as we were so focused on getting the stone as well as the particles. I try and hide afraid they would see our shadows, I turn to grab Steve to pull him closer to me but when I turn he’s standing right in front of Peggy at the window. He was staring at her as if this was the only thing in the world to him, at one time she was but I didn’t expect him to fall back so quickly, especially after him telling the group we had to move on. You had moved on Steve, I’m right here!

I see the expression on his face, I see the look he gives her how he watches her like he’s hanging on to his last breath. The only thing separating them right now was the glass, but was that enough? This is the first time he’s seen the Peggy he fell in love with. He was still in love with her when she was old and on her death bed but this was the Peggy who was with him from the beginning this was the Peggy I never wanted to meet. Not because I knew she wasn’t great I admired her and everything she did for S.H.I.E.L.D as well as what she did for Steve, but because this was the only woman I knew I could lose Steve too.

‘’Steve,’’ I say my voice breaking even though I tried my hardest to act as if it didn’t bother me.

I watch as Peggy quickly leaves the room yelling as mess at the man behind her, I watched as Steve finally let that painful expression leave his face as she left the room. He looks over to me I can see it in his eyes the sincerity realizing I just had to watch him pine over the girl he loved. ‘’Let’s go find Tony.’’ I say sternly. He didn’t speak he just followed me outside to look for Tony. I don’t know if that was because he didn’t know what to say or because he knew what he just did said it all.

I think as we are walking, I had finally met Peggy. The one Steve loves, I would say loved but I knew what that meant in there. I knew that meant he realized he could have her back if he wanted to. He could come back and he could be with her if he really wanted. I just hoped that I was enough to keep that from coming true, but then again who am I to stand in the way of Steve and his happiness even if that happiness isn’t me.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #steve x reader #steve endgame #avengers endgame #endgame spoilers #captain america #captain america imagine #chris evans #chris evans imagine

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ao3feed-stucky · 5 years ago

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by Cyber_Grape_aka_Jay

The Langs hold the secrets to the beginning. The Langs hold the secrets of the Endgame. The Langs are the First Stone in the Gauntlet.

Words: 1736, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of The Snap, and what unfolded

Fandoms: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ms. Marvel (Comics), The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

Characters: Original Female Character(s), Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Carol Danvers, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Margaret "Peggy" Schuyler, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Hulk (Marvel), Doreen Green, ms marvel, Kamala Khan, Clint Barton, Hawkeye, Cassie Lang, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers, Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanov, Shane Madej/Sara Rubin, Shane Madej & Sara Rubin, Shane Madej & Original Character(s), Ryan Bergara/Marielle Scott, Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Morgan Stark, Original Female Characters/Original Male Characters, Original Female Characters/Original Female Characters, Harley Keener & Nebula & Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne, Cassie Lang & Scott Lang

Additional Tags: kinda short, Series, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Multiverse, Angst, Superpowers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Deaf Clint Barton, Timelord, Demon Shane Madej

#Bucky #AO3 works tagged 'James Barnes/Steve Rogers'#ao3feed #stucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #c

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bookclub4m · 5 years ago

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This month we’re reading Fairy Tales, Fables, Legends, Myths, and Folklore. We talk about the internet, oral stories, where to start reading superheroes, the problems with incredibly long books, and more!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through iTunes, Stitcher, Google Play, Spotify, or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | RJ Edwards

Books We Read This Month (or tried to read…)

A House of Pomegranates by Oscar Wilde

The Happy Prince and Other Tales by Oscar Wilde

Fairies, Pookas, and Changelings: A Complete Guide to the Wild and Wicked Enchanted Realm by Varla Ventura

Transgressive Tales: Queering the Grimms

Christmas Customs and Folklore: A Guide to Season Rites by Margaret Baker

Hark! Podcast

Jingle Bells written by James Lord Pierpont

Wassailing

Haxey Hood

Boggans - Changeling: The Dreaming

Snap-dragon (game)

Zeus Grants Stupid Wishes: A No-Bullshit Guide to World Mythology by Cory O'Brien

Here Comes a Chopper to Chop Off Your Head: The Dark Side of Childhood Rhymes and Stories by Liz Evers

Ring a Ring o' Roses

Contes et sortilèges des quatre coins du Québec

Les grandes légendes du Québec : un tour du Québec en 25 récits traditionnels

Eye of Newt and Toe of Frog, Adder's Fork and Lizard's Leg: The Lore and Mythology of Amphibians and Reptiles by Marty Crump

Medusa's Gaze and Vampire's Bite: The Science of Monsters by Matt Kaplan

Crash Course Mythology

White as Milk, Red as Blood: The Forgotten Fairy Tales of Franz Xaver von Schönwerth translated by Shelley Tanaka and illustrated by Willow Dawson

Willow Dawson’s website

Contes du Nord illustrated by Kay Nielsen

Kay Nielsen - 43 artworks

Other Media We Mention

Andrew Lang's Fairy Books

PBS Idea Channel

How is Slender Man Internet Folklore?

What If?: Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions by Randall Munroe

What If? Website

Links, Articles, and Things

Kelpie: “malevolent water horses”

Jack Zipes: “an American academic and folklorist who has published and lectured on the subject of fairy tales”

Slender Man

Creepypasta (just spooked myself out by watching some videos on Petscop…)

Afrofuturism

The crew of the Argo

Folklore of Quebec

Protein poisoning

Russian Fairy Tales

Baba Yaga

Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie comic series) (Sonic News Network wiki)

Transformers Wiki (read the image captions)

Favourite Folklore/Fairy Tales

The Girl Without Hands (The Handless Maiden)

Vasilisa the Beautiful (girl sent to Baba Yaga’s hut)

The Yule Lads

Suggest a genre or book!

Fill out the form to suggest a genre or book!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Twitter or Instagram, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, May 21st when we’ll be discussing Books That Changed Our Lives and Books That Haunt Us!

Then come back on Tuesday, June 4th when we’ll be talking about the genre of Supernatural Thrillers!

#genres

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lightsburnbrite · 8 years ago

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Young & Wild: Part 5

“If you don’t like them just say so.”

Preston snapped the lid closed on the box containing the matching engraved cufflinks, tie clip, and money clip. “No, they’re fine. Thanks.”

“I can return them.” Georgina waited for Preston to turn his back before she rolled her eyes. At least he could return them and get cash. What was she supposed to do with vouchers for tennis lessons?

“Didn’t we agree that you were going to stop being such a bitch on this trip?” He tossed the box on to the dresser and folded his arms across his chest. “Not exactly holding up your end of the deal there.”

Georgina threw her arms up in frustration. “How am I being a bitch?”

“You’ve spent hardly any time with me or my family, you’re always working on your laptop or taking notes in the margin of a journal.” He paused for effect, something that he did often. “Why did you even come here?”

She looked back at him with a frown. “I came because I was invited. I’m sorry that my thesis is keeping me busy but I want to be thorough with it because my advisor say I can then turn it into my dissertation if I wanted to pursue my doctorate.”

“That’s not why I’m mad.” Preston began speaking with his hands as though he was talking to a dimwitted person. “You go to England and you go to Denmark but you can’t even pull yourself away from your work for my family.”

“I work wherever I go.” She bit her tongue to prevent from laughing and saying he’s not special in being ignored. “It’s not just here.”

Preston narrowed his gaze. He had wanted an apology from Georgina and some sort of indication that he could influence her but that was definitely not what he was getting. “Why don’t you just leave if you’re so unhappy here?”

“I’m not unhappy.” Georgina could tell that her lack of emotion one way or another was driving Preston crazy. “But I’ll leave if you want me to.”

He set his jaw and raised an eyebrow. “I think that might be best.”

Within the hour, Georgina had packed and arranged for a car to come and take her to the airport. The reason for Preston’s foul mood wasn’t the amount of time Georgina spent on her work but a text he saw show up on her phone early Christmas morning from a contact labeled Danny: Babe, you’re amazing. Can’t believe you figured out I wanted new clubs. Happy Christmas!

The clubs he was expecting as a Christmas present had obviously gone to someone named Danny who thought nothing of calling his fiancé “babe”. Surprisingly, this wasn’t a deal breaker for him. Instead, he wanted to know more about Georgina’s extra curricular activities. Any information gathered could be potentially helpful to him.

Once she was at 39,000 feet, Georgina finally started to relax. She figured she’d take the rest of the day to herself before telling anyone she was home and subsequently finding a reason for why she came home early. Back in the sanctuary of her apartment, Georgina flopped down on her bed and sighed as she stared at the ceiling. Breaking her own rule, she decided to call Daniel.

“Georgie, they’re perfect.”

Georgina laughed as he didn’t even bother with the formality of a greeting. “I’m glad you like them, Danny. Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“Not bad.” From the way he was speaking, she could tell that he was nodding his head and she loved that they had come to know each other well enough to anticipate reactions. “Of course, we still play so it’s not like I could get home to see my family. Couple weeks and we’ll have our own Christmas. How was your’s?

“Well,” She sighed as she made herself comfortable. “His parents are ok towards me but his sister in law is awful and her kids are just rude. Preston didn’t like the present I got for him and then we argued about how he thought I was spending too much time working-”

“Because you didn’t actually want to be there?”

“Right.” She smiled again. “He kept calling me a bitch and said I should just go home. So, here I am.”

“You shouldn’t let him speak to you like that.” The tone of Daniel’s voice caught her by surprise, it was much more stern than she had heard from him before. “That’s no way for a man to treat the woman he supposedly loves.”

She gave a little sigh, maybe Preston didn’t actually want to get married either. “I know, Danny. That’s part of the reason I left.”

“You’re home now?” There was surprise in his voice, but he seemed pleased at the same time.

“Yep.”

“Ok, listen,” Georgina could tell that he was going through some papers as he was talking. “You’re alone, right? I’m going to have your present delivered. Maybe a couple of hours from now. Don’t go out yet, ok?”

With another sigh, she closed her eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Great. I’ll call you soon.”

“Ok, Dan.” She laughed now at how endearing his child-like impulsivity was. “I love you.”

“Love you more, Georgie.”

As soon as she hung up, Georgina dozed off only to be woken again by her phone ringing. She smiled when she saw Daniel’s name show up.

“Did you miss me already?”

He laughed before answering. “Oh, I miss you everyday but I wanted to check to make sure you were still home.”

“I am.” Georgina was starting to get excited, wondering what Daniel had lined up.

“Good.” It was obvious he was enjoying this. “Put the phone down and put me on speaker.”

She followed his directions but remained puzzled. “What do I do now?”

“Just wait a minute, you’ll see.”

As if by clockwork, there was a knock on her door. Georgina opened it to reveal a stout woman in her mid fifties dressed in khakis, a navy polo shirt and an olive drab utility vest. “Georgina Henry?”

“Yes?” As soon as Georgina confirmed her identity the woman held out her hand to shake.

After a brief shake, the woman realized she hadn’t introduced herself. “Margaret Lang, nice to meet you I’m the owner of Ravenwood Kennels in Colt’s Neck. I have something for you.”

Margaret stepped to the side, out of site, and moved a large cardboard box, flaps still open, in front of the door.

Georgina looked to Margaret then to the box and back.

“Go ahead,” Margaret smiled. “Open it up.”

Cautiously, she took a step forward and moved the flaps out of the way. Inside, tangled together and passed out on a fleece blanket were two Labrador puppies, one jet black and the other a pale cream.

“Oh my god,” Georgina’s voice automatically dropped to a whisper. “They’re adorable.”

Margaret bent down and picked up the black one who let out a great yawn. “They’re tuckered out from the car ride but give them a minute and they’ll be bouncing all over the place.”

Georgina followed suit and picked up the lighter one, who immediately started to lick her face. She laughed as she spoke a little louder now. “Ok, Danny. Why is a stranger showing up with a literal box of puppies?”

“They’re yours.” Margaret gave a little smile and nodded as Daniel spoke. “Happy Christmas, Georgie.”

Pressing her lips together, Georgina was overwhelmed by the gesture and held the cream colored puppy close to her. Daniel said a quick goodbye, knowing that Margaret had some things she wanted to go over with Georgina, with the promise that he’d check in tomorrow. Soon after, the doorman accompanied a delivery man with crates, an exercise pen and two large bags of kibble. Margaret left her with the name of a highly recommended and nearby dog trainer who would work with Georgina at the apartment as well as at their location.

A few days passed and Georgina wasn’t sure if it was the puppies or her coordinating a trip to Liverpool before her new semester started but she hadn’t thought about Preston once. It caught her by surprise when the doorman called over the intercom to announce that Preston was there but then she remembered that he’d asked to stay there while he had some meetings in New York.

“Oh, boys.” Georgina turned to the puppies who were playing tug of war with a rope. “I was hoping you wouldn’t have to meet him.”

She had their exercise pen set up in her office so they could be in there with her while she worked and now that seemed like the best place to keep them when Preston came. The ding of the elevator signaled his arrival and caused the knot in Georgina’s stomach to grow.

“Georgina?”

She heard him call from the gallery and walked out to meet him. “Hello Preston, how was your flight?”

“Relatively painless.” He looked her over with a raised eyebrow. “Your forgot I was coming, didn't you?”

Suddenly Georgina regretted her choice of leggings paired with an oversized hoodie. One of Daniel’s hoodies to be exact. “I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit forgetful recently.”

“Right. Well, get dressed, I thought we could go out for dinner.” He carried his bag to her bedroom, compelling her to follow. “Also, you should clear your schedule next week. You owe my parents and apology for Christmas.”

She steeled herself and decided now was as good a time as any. “Preston, we need to talk.”

“Talk?” He went to open the second closet but stopped short. “Talk about what?”

Georgina took the ring from her finger and handed it to him. “I need to give this back to you.”

“What are you doing, Georgina?” He scoffed, thinking she was playing some sort of passive aggressive game to get him to grovel.

“I’m sorry,” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Last week you made me realize…I barely have time to take care of myself, let alone devote time to others and it’s not fair to you-”

“You’re not seriously breaking up with me, are you?” He still looked somewhat in shock. “No. Partners are never single. They’re always men with a wife and a couple of kids.”

She rolled her eyes. “If that’s the main reason you’re upset then it just proves my point that we don’t need to be together.”

“Does your father know?” He still had a pompous air around him, as if he was too good to be left. “What do you think he’d have to say about it?”

Georgina simply shook her head. “I would hope that my happiness is what matters most to my father. Look, I have no problem with you staying in the guest room while your in town-”

Preston’s response came in the form of a glare as he took the ring out of her palm. “I should hope not considering you’ve given me no notice.”

As he took his bag and walked out, she closed her eyes and exhaled. Georgina was really hoping he’d opt to stay in a hotel, but it was only for two days at least, how bad could it really be? Her first thought was to get in touch with Daniel. She took a picture of her left hand with a now bare ring finger and sent it to him before she followed up with another text.

Broke it off, but he was supposed to stay here for a few days on business. He’s still here but in the guest room so I can’t talk freely. See you soon!

Daniel’s response came in the form of a thumbs up.

Quietly walking past the guest room, Georgina had to admit that it would be easier only keeping one secret from Preston. Turning back, she poked her head in and spoke quickly before he could get a word in.

“I got myself two puppies for Christmas. I need to take them out now, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Without giving him the chance to respond, Georgina grabbed their leashes and had them out the door.

Georgina went straight for the central park mall, only stopping once she made it to a bench. Pulling out her phone, she exhaled before calling her father. Part of her was hoping he wouldn’t answer, but once he did, Georgina realized it was probably easier just to get it over with.

“Dad?”

He seemed surprised, but pleased to hear from her. “Gigi. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I, um,” She hesitated for a moment but shook her head and continued. “I called it off with Preston, we broke up.”

“Oh, Georgina.” He seemed disappointed, but not entirely upset. “He seemed like a good fit for you.”

She wanted to laugh, but stopped herself. “Not really, Dad, he’s mainly a good fit for himself. It didn’t seem like the right time and I’m not convinced he actually wanted to marry me. I think he more wanted to seem like the ideal candidate to make partner.”

“Well,” He paused as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say what he was about to. “When he asked if he could marry you, he spoke more about himself than the two of you.”

Now she did laugh. “That’s exactly what I mean, Dad.”

“Tell me something, Gi.” There was a level of kindness in his voice again that was reserved for private matters. “Are you happy?”

“I am, Dad. But that’s the other part of why I wanted to call you.” She sighed and at once felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. “I was given two Labrador puppies for Christmas.”

Her father laughed. “That certainly does seem like something you’d appreciate more than tennis lessons. But who gave them to you? Seems like a pretty significant gift.”

“Daniel Agger.” Georgina suddenly felt the need to clarify. “I met him at the club’s reception for you in October. We’ve become very close friends.”

She really didn’t know what kind of reaction to anticipate, but complete silence on the other end did nothing to assuage her growing concern. “Dad?”

#daniel agger #young & wild

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ao3feed-mcufemslash · 5 years ago

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The Snap and How The Flames Began.

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pfA2Pi

by Cyber_Grape_aka_Jay

The Langs hold the secrets to the beginning. The Langs hold the secrets of the Endgame. The Langs are the First Stone in the Gauntlet.

Words: 1736, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of The Snap, and what unfolded

Fandoms: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ms. Marvel (Comics), The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pfA2Pi

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #mcu

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ao3feed-stevebucky · 5 years ago

Text

The Snap and How The Flames Began.

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pfA2Pi

by Cyber_Grape_aka_Jay

The Langs hold the secrets to the beginning. The Langs hold the secrets of the Endgame. The Langs are the First Stone in the Gauntlet.

Words: 1736, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of The Snap, and what unfolded

Fandoms: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Ms. Marvel (Comics), The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2pfA2Pi

#ao3feed #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stevebucky #stucky #steve/bucky #stevexbucky #fanfic

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caveartfair · 7 years ago

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10 Images That Changed the Course of Photography

Since inventor Nicéphore Niépce snapped the first-ever photograph in the 1820s, the medium has come a long way over its two-century existence. A new book by Ian Haydn Smith—The Short Story of Photography: A Pocket Guide to Key Genres, Works, Themes & Techniques, from Laurence King Publishing—spotlights pivotal images that have shaped both artistic expression and public opinion. Below, we bring you a selection of some of those images, accompanied by excerpts from the book, which is out on May 8.

Nicéphore Niépce, View from the Window at e Gras, 1826–27

Nicéphore Niépce, View from the Window at Le Gras, 1826–27. Photo via Wikimedia Commons.

Inventor and scientific pioneer Nicéphore Niépce (1765–1833) developed his interest in lithography and experiments with a camera obscura into one of the first major breakthroughs in photography.

The earliest surviving photographic image was believed lost for over 50 years, until a print was uncovered in a trunk in 1952 by the photography historian Helmut Gernsheim. To produce it, Niépce took a pewter plate and coated it with a thin layer of bitumen of Judea, a naturally occurring asphalt. The compound’s light-sensitive qualities enabled him to develop a process he called Heliography. The coating became hardened in its exposure to light, and when it was washed with the solvent oil of lavender, only the hardened elements remained—the image having literally been etched by the sun’s rays. Niépce’s first attempt at capturing this view from one of the rooms in his family home was made on the surface of a lithographic plate, but it was eventually erased. This later photograph was originally believed to have been the result of an eight- or nine-hour exposure to the sun’s light on the facing walls. But one researcher, using Niépce’s notes and the same photographic process, placed the exposure time at a few days.

Man Ray, Ingres’ Violin, 1924

Le Violon d'Ingres, 1924. Man Ray Musée National d'Art Moderne, Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris

American-born May Ray (1890–1976) made Paris his home, became the photographic face of both the Dadaist and the Surrealist movements, blurred the line between fashion and art to rapturous effect and brought dreams to life through his work.

For this portrait of the nightclub singer, actress, painter and artist’s model Kiki de Montparnasse, Man Ray painted the f-holes of a stringed instrument on to a photographic print and then re-photographed the print. The image appeared in the thirteenth issue of André Breton’s Littérature magazine in June 1924 and practically heralded the arrival of the Surrealist movement. It references one of Man Ray’s inspirations, the French Neoclassical painter Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, who also played the violin. With Kiki’s body transformed into a musical instrument, there is a hint that she is something to be played. (She and Man Ray were lovers when this image was created, which further complicates any interpretation.) Her apparent lack of limbs also emphasizes her vulnerability. The title is a French idiom that means ‘hobby’, which further hints at the ambivalence of the image, between objectification and an appreciation of beauty, albeit with more than a dash of humour.

Cindy Sherman, Untitled #96, 1981

Untitled # 96, 1981. Cindy Sherman me Collectors Room

No photographer has crafted such a complex negotiation between viewer and subject, societal attitudes to gender and questions of identity through self-portraiture as Cindy Sherman (b.1954).

This image comes from the second series of Sherman’s foray into colour. If the first series, which depicted her against rear-screen projections, evokes a bygone era of film and television, this series explores the way women are presented in pornographic magazines. Commissioned for Artforum, each photograph was to appear across a double-page spread in the style of Playboy centrefolds. Shot in close-up, an approach she would continue to employ in subsequent projects, Sherman is always seen looking off to the side. The vantage point of the viewer accentuates the vulnerability of this subject.

In this image, Sherman uses orange to almost kitsch effect, with her skirt raised to expose part of her thigh, hinting at violation. Her expression could be read as pensiveness; the personal ad in her hand suggests that she has just made or is about to make a call. The photograph goes beyond mere parody of the form, with Sherman questioning both the representation and the reception of such imagery.

Andy Warhol, Self-Portrait in Drag (Platinum Pageboy Wig), 1981

Andy Warhol Self- Portrait in Drag , 1981. Andy Warhol Hedges Projects

Leading the Pop Art vanguard, Andy Warhol (1928–87) embraced the limitations of the Polaroid camera, producing thousands of portraits.

Photography had always been central to Warhol’s work, albeit via his screen prints. An artist for whom identity remained a moveable feast, the self-portraits he shot between 1962 and 1986 are fascinating for the way he presents himself. With each series, his face appears more like a mask. He started using Polaroid in the 1970s, initially as the basis for more complex works, but many never progressed beyond simple, often crudely shot portraits.

Warhol’s self-portraits in drag recall Man Ray’s photographs of Marcel Duchamp in female dress. Drag queens fascinated Warhol, and this series blurs the line between genders. His expression remains blank, yet there is a hint of vulnerability, which could be read as a desire both to be looked at and for the viewer to turn away. Those contradictions lay at the heart of Warhol’s celebrity, which he both embraced and shunned. The use of Polaroid flattens the image and the light is harsh, but Warhol uses subtle shadows to soften his outline. The red of his lipstick and blusher adds a playful touch of élan.

Julia Margaret Cameron, Beatrice, 1866

Julia Margaret Cameron, Beatrice, 1866. Courtesy of the Getty Museum.

An early champion of photography as an art form, Julia Margaret Cameron (1815–79) produced beguiling portraits that prioritized artistry and the spiritual essence of an image over technical perfection.

Ethereal and mournful, Cameron’s visualization of Beatrice Cenci, immortalized by Percy Bysshe Shelley’s verse drama of 1918, best exemplifies the photographer’s desire to move away from the instantaneous towards art. Inspired by Guido Reni’s portrait of c.1600 of the Italian noblewoman executed for conspiring to murder her brutal father, Cameron wanted to tap into the spirituality of her subject—to reach beyond the physical and into a realm of pure emotion. Although dismissed by many of her peers, Cameron’s work has gained currency over time. Her images employ light and soft focus to startling effect.

Beatrice was taken with a large camera that Cameron had recently acquired, which held a 35 x 30.5 cm (15 x 12 in) negative. In addition to producing grander tableaux, Cameron used the larger scale to move even closer to her subject. Like so many of her images, Beatrice finds its subject’s gaze fixed away from the lens. If Reni’s portrait suggests the faintest hint of plea in her expression, Cameron’s photograph records resignation, acceptance of the fate that lies in store.

Lewis Hine, Mechanic and Steam Pump, 1921

Lewis Hine, Mechanic and Steam Pump, 1921. Courtesy of the Getty Museum.

Lewis Hine’s (1874–1940) early work prompted changes in US child labor laws, while his approach to documentary photography in the 1920s presented a portrait of urban industrialization that contrasted sharply with the rural images produced a decade later by photographers commissioned by the Food Standards Agency (FSA).

After his groundbreaking work with the National Child Labor Committee, Hine widened his focus to document all aspects of an expanding industrial workforce. However, his enthusiasm for the mechanization of contemporary American society was tempered by the conditions in which he witnessed countless people working.

Mechanic and Steam Pump first appeared in the December 1921 edition of the sociological journal The Survey Graphic. It was one of many photographs taken throughout the decade by Hine inside the country’s vast power plants. Accentuating the lines of every pivot and joint, the image highlights the photographer’s awe at the scale of industry, yet remains committed to his notion that the cast machinery could function effectively only through the intense labour of the US workforce. It presents a symbiotic relationship between man and machine, the spanner a channel between metal and flesh. In this meticulously constructed shot, Hine transforms a lone worker into a symbol of human industry.

Dorothea Lange, Migrant Mother, 1936

'Migrant Mother', ca. 1936. Dorothea Lange Galerie Prints

With the onset of the Great Depression, Dorothea Lange (1895-1965) abandoned her studio for the outside world and became one of the most compassionate chroniclers of American working-class life.

The power of Lange’s photograph White Angel Breadline (1933), featuring a homeless man queuing for food, attracted the attention of the Farm Security Administration (FSA). They invited Lange to become one of a group of photographers, led by Walker Evans, who would record life in America’s rural states. She travelled the country for five years, photographing people as they searched for work. These images, like those of Lange’s colleagues, contrast significantly with earlier movements. If photographers such as Lewis Hine had previously emphasized an increasingly mechanized society, the FSA photographers edged towards a more pastoral documentary form.

Migrant Mother is perhaps the most famous image to have come out of the FSA project. Lange met Florence Owens Thompson and her family among thousands of migrant workers inside a pea-pickers’ camp in Nipomo Mesa, California. She took just a handful of shots. The family’s poverty can be seen not only in the clothes Thompson and her children wear, but also in the backdrop. The seam running from the top right corner makes clear that this is canvas—a tent of some kind—but it appears more patchwork than anything sturdy. The children, unkempt cherubs, face away from the camera, drawing our attention to the Madonna-like figure in the centre. Thompson’s expression and pose—hands were a regular focus of Lange’s attention—are those of a mother worried about the future, and made her a symbol of America’s economic plight in the 1930s.

Timothy H. O’Sullivan, A Harvest of Death, 1863

Timothy H. O’Sullivan, A Harvest of Death, 1863. Courtesy of the Getty Museum.

An apprentice in his teens to Matthew Brady, Timothy H. O’Sullivan (c. 1840-82) became one of the most important chroniclers of the American Civil War.

The images captured during the conflict represent a seismic shift in the role of photojournalism in the United States. O’Sullivan was one of ten photographers Brady commissioned to record the war, photographing key figures and military encampments, and getting as close to the battlefield as safety would allow. The resulting images, Brady noted, presented audiences with “the eye of history.”

Gettysburg was the most brutal battle of the war, resulting in the deaths of of approximately 50,000 soldiers over three days, from 1 to 3 July 1863. O’Sullivan chillingly captured the bleak, deathly landscape in its immediate aftermath, while bodies lay strewn across the field of conflict. The photograph’s title was supplied by Alexander Gardner in his book Gardner’s Photographic Sketchbook of the War, which featured many of the conflict’s most important images. Although Gardner described the scene as featuring rebel dead, subsequent scholars have noted that it mainly features Union soldiers. Most of the bodies in the photograph are missing their shoes, which were routinely removed owing to the scarcity of footwear. Stark and direct, the image is made more unsettling by the mist—a death shroud—in the distance. Unlike modern wars, which typically devastate the earth, the landscape here looks unaffected by the conflict; were it not for the bodies strewn across the field, this scene might be a pastoral idyll.

Robert Frank, Parade, Hoboken, New Jersey, 1955

Parade - Hoboken, New Jersey, 1955. Robert Frank MOCA, Los Angeles

Few photographic projects have had an impact comparable to the work Robert Frank (b. 1924) produced in the mid 1950s when he recorded daily life in America.

In his book The Americans (1958), Frank aimed to capture what naturalized citizens might choose to photograph were they to journey around their adopted country. He envisioned a collection of images that are “anywhere and everywhere—easily found, not easily selected and interpreted.” Between 1955 and 1957 Frank travelled the length and breadth of the country. The resulting 83 images were divided into four sections, with each image linked thematically or conceptually. With images that convey the tapestry of American rural and urban life, Frank helped to transform photographic practice.

Parade, Hoboken, New Jersey is the first image to appear in “The Americans”. The message conveyed here is a far cry from the Rockwellian portraits that adorned the covers of The Saturday Evening Post in the 1950s, featuring a casual style that appeared radical at the time. The views from the two windows on this summer day are obscured, one by dirty glass, while in the other a woman is “blinded”

Gillian Wearing, WORK TOWARDS WORLD PEACE, from the series Signs that say what you want them to say and not Signs that say what someone else wants you to say, 1992-93

Signs that say what you want them to say and not Signs that say what someone else wants you to say (Work towards world peace), 1992-1993. Gillian Wearing Tanya Bonakdar Gallery

Questions of representation dominate the work of Gillian Wearing (b. 1963), as she gives voice to her subjects or explores identity through self-portraiture.

In challenging preconceptions about photographic subjects, with this series of street portraits Wearing hands power back to the people being photographed, allowing them to express what they think or how they feel. The idea for the series stemmed from the photographer’s ambivalence towards the conventions of portraiture, and her feeling that she “couldn’t bear the idea of taking photographs of people without their knowing”. Approaching strangers on the street, Wearing asked them to write what they were thinking on a piece of white paper. From a black police officer exclaiming “HELP” and an elderly man writing “ME,” to a young woman stating, “MY GRIP ON LIFE IS RATHER LOOSE!”, Wearing sought to capture the juxtaposition of thought, expression and interpretation.

This image was used in 2017 by London Mayor Sadiq Khan and the artist David Shrigley as part of a series of artworks entitled #LondonIsOpen that appeared in the city’s 270 Underground stations, highlighting its openness to the world, despite the referendum that had just voted in favour of Britain leaving the European Union.

from Artsy News

#Artsy News

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the2travel · 7 years ago

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* World Travel Tips : 'Women Photograph' Honors The Female Photojournalists Documenting Our World

Travel Tips -

Photojournalism is far removed from its glory days ― the so-called Golden Age of the 1930s to 1960s ― when photographers toted Leicas and experimented with the first flash bulbs. Back then, behemoths like Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Capa and other founding members of Magnum Photos dominated the field, delivering onto the public historic images of military events, far-away countries, and images of the world people would otherwise never see.

Decades later, after magazines began to decline in popularity, so too did the prestige of photojournalism. Nonetheless, those left on the front lines of professional photojournalism are still responsible for capturing some of the world’s most captivating images. Take, for example, Associated Press photographer Burhan Ozbilici’s photo snapped seconds after the assassination of Russia’s ambassador to Turkey.

“Photojournalism is responsible for dictating how the general public sees the rest of the world,” documentary photographer Daniella Zalcman told HuffPost. “The photos in our newspapers and magazines expose people to issues and places and individuals they’ll likely never interact with personally.”

However, much like the early days of Cartier-Bresson, Capa and co., another aspect of the photojournalism scene has persisted: The majority of our chief storytellers are also still white men, Zalcman explained.

According to The New York Times, women have consistently accounted for only 15 percent of the entries to the prestigious World Press Photo awards in the last five years. Furthermore, around 80 to 100 percent of the images contained in publications’ roundups of most significant photos in 2016 belonged to male names. Incredible (and mostly white) female figures like Margaret Bourke-White, Dorothea Lange and Inge Morath managed to overcome the stale assumptions of their time ― that women couldn’t handle the necessary equipment or fend for themselves in conflict-ridden areas. Yet their success stories can register as outliers today.

Women in the 21st century aren’t getting the most valuable assignments from wire services, newspapers or magazines, Zalcman told the Times, suggesting that gender disparities in the industry are alive and well. She cited a few obstacles contemporary women photojournalists face in particular, such as biased hiring practices, a gender-based confidence gap, the difficulties of balancing personal lives with careers, and sexual harassment in the field.

In an attempt to help women overcome these obstacles ― and educate publications unaware of the many, many female photojournalists available for hire ― Zalcman founded Women Photograph, a database promoting 400 women photojournalists from 67 countries across the globe. Described as “a resource for female* documentary and editorial photographers and the people who would like to hire them,” the site links directly to the portfolios of women from Saudi Arabia, Thailand, Cameroon, Chile, Russia, Canada and beyond. It also provides resources and grant information to aspiring photographers who might frequent the page.

(The asterisk denotes that “gender nonconforming, transgender, and genderqueer friends are all welcome” on the site.)

“We can’t just look at war and politics and human rights stories through the eyes of men,” Zalcman told HuffPost. “If we want to be responsible storytellers, our community needs to be as diverse as the voices it represents.”

Zalcman is aware that a mere list of female photojournalists won’t erase the gender-based obstacles women encounter in their line of work. But “Women Photograph” is a succinct retort to any editor who claims not to know any women in the business.

Below is a preview of some of the photojournalists on display at “Women Photograph.” To see more photojournalism from women today, head to the database here.

All captions were provided by “Women Photograph.”

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World Travel Tips : Find cheap flights, hotels and car rentals. Plan your trip with travel guides, personalized recommendations, articles, deals and more. When you travel, you want your bags to travel with you. Follow these tips from travel professionals on how not to lose your luggage.

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