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rise-tv · 6 months ago

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Ancient Cataclysms: Rise TV Series Exploring 5 Catastrophes That Rocked The World

Let’s see how throughout history, ancient Cataclysms in societies have shared stories and depictions of devastating natural disasters, highlighting the long-standing presence of events like earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and floods.

Introduction — Catastrophic Natural Disasters and Ancient Cataclysms:-

Ancient societies worldwide have passed down stories of severe natural disasters through oral traditions, folklore, historical chronicles, visual depictions, and mythology. Catastrophic natural disasters such as earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and floods are not new, but how people perceive these events has evolved dramatically throughout time.

Continue reading to learn more about our ancestors’ experiences with natural disasters in the Rise TV Series.

A Global Climatic Ancient Cataclysm of the 6th Century:-

Between 535 and 536, a series of large worldwide climatic occurrences may be defined as a global disaster with disastrous effects. Numerous testimonies from around the world around that time describe the sun becoming weaker and losing its radiance. Many others characterize it as blue.

The impacts were also noted on the moon, which became less brilliant. The reduction in light caused the world to lose heat, no rain, and an extremely long winter, resulting in crop failures and the extinction of birds and other creatures. Famines and plagues ravaged numerous locations, resulting in a large number of deaths.

In China and Japan, the event was extensively documented, with frequent references to huge droughts and thousands of deaths. There wasn’t enough water for the people and the land. Thousands of square miles became sterile.

The severe disaster affected Korea, the Americas, Europe, Africa, and Australia. While written records are not available for many countries, archaeology and geological data have revealed signs of climate change. Studies on tree trunks, for example, revealed that 536 AD was the coldest in 1,500 years.

Neapolis: Sunk by a Tsunami:-

After over a decade of looking, the ruins of the city of Neapolis have been discovered off the coast of Nabeul, in northeast Tunisia. The flooded city covers 20 hectares (almost 50 acres). The researchers uncovered statues, streets, and approximately 100 tanks used to produce garum, a favourite Roman fermented fish sauce.

Because some of Neapolis’ ruins survive aboveground, submerged archaeologists have been investigating the area for seven years in the hopes of discovering the underwater counterpart. Based on their findings thus far, scholars have concluded that Neapolis was partially submerged by a tsunami on July 21, 365 AD, a natural calamity that also affected Alexandria, Egypt, and the Greek island of Crete. This validates an account written by the Roman army and historian Ammien Marcellin.

The catastrophic end of the Mycenaean Bronze Age:-

Theories on the role of natural disasters in the demise of the Mycenaean culture exist, with similar events occurring in modern Mediterranean societies, increasing the possibility of these events. Anatolia (modern-day Turkey), Egypt, and the Levant (modern-day Iraq, etc.) were all affected by a series of earthquakes and volcanic eruptions that also shook the Aegean.

Because of the centralization of each community, this seismic activity appears to have caused a fiery domino effect. Oil-burning lights were common in Mycenaean-Minoan Greece, Anatolia, and elsewhere, and the consistent earthquakes that rocked the Mediterranean could have simply caused these elevated flames to tip over and set fire to the settlements. H

aving communities in which politics, economy, and religion were all centred on a single location made it far too easy for these fires to almost instantly wreck order. One of the most prominent examples of fire causing such destruction is the scenario at Knossos in Crete.

The annihilation of entire cultures does not occur overnight; it seems likely that if the collapse of the Mycenaeans is tied to a natural disaster, that disaster marked the beginning of a predictable, hazardous chain of events. Weakened surroundings could lead to weaker economies, resulting in political upheaval.

A Tsunami Wiped off The Prehistoric Inhabitants of The North Sea Islands:-

Around 8,200 years ago, a tsunami destroyed an ancient civilization centred on a chain of islands between Britain and Europe. The islands, known as ‘Doggerland’, were inhabited by Mesolithic people, as shown by the discovery of flint tools and fishing nets. They were described as a prehistoric ‘Garden of Eden’.

Doggerland was a stretch of land between Northern Scotland, Denmark as well, and the Channel Islands. It was thought to have housed tens of thousands of people before disappearing underwater. Beginning roughly 20,000 years ago, a major outpouring of meltwater from Lake Agassiz, a giant glacial lake in North America, caused sea levels to rise by more than two feet.

Doggerland progressively became submerged in water, leaving behind several islands. Then, a large 3,000 cubic kilometre landslide near Norway caused a tsunami that flooded the islands and killed the human population; the massive wave was equivalent to the 2011 Japanese tsunami.

Severe drought and the decline of the Maya Civilization:-

The severity of the drought that occurred during the Maya civilization’s death around 1000 years ago has been assessed, adding to the body of information that could help solve the long-standing riddle of what caused the civilization’s demise. The central Maya region had a catastrophic governmental collapse around the ninth century, with the abandonment of prominent limestone cities and the end of dynasties.

While the Maya people survived this period, their economic and political power had diminished. There are other theories about what caused the collapse, including invasion, war, environmental degradation, and falling trade lines. In the 1990s, however, experts were able to piece together climate records for the Maya collapse and discovered that it coincided with an extended period of intense drought.

More recently, researchers devised a way to measure the various isotopes of water trapped in gypsum, a mineral formed during droughts when water levels drop, in Lake Chichancanab on Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula, where the Maya lived. They discovered that during the collapse of the Maya civilization, yearly precipitation reduced by 41% to 54%, with intervals of up to 70% rainfall reduction during peak drought conditions, and relative humidity decreased by 2% to 7% compared to today.

Final Concluding Thoughts:-

Throughout history, ancient societies have shared tales of devastating natural disasters through various mediums. The evolution of people’s perceptions of catastrophic events like earthquakes and floods has significantly changed over time.

The significant impacts of a celestial event, include reduced moonlight, loss of heat, crop failures, extinction of species, famines, plagues, and droughts, leading to widespread death and barren land.

The underwater investigation of Neapolis has confirmed that the city was partially submerged by a tsunami in 365 AD, which aligns with historical accounts.

The centralization of communities in ancient times, combined with seismic activity, led to devastating fires that quickly destroyed settlements. The interconnectedness of politics, economy, and religion in these centralized locations made them vulnerable to rapid chaos and destruction, as seen in the case of Knossos in Crete.

Doggerland was a landmass that connected Northern Scotland, Denmark, and the Channel Islands, but it disappeared underwater due to rising sea levels caused by melting glaciers.

A catastrophic landslide near Norway led to a tsunami that submerged the remaining islands and wiped out the human population, leaving behind only underwater remnants of the once-thriving civilization.

#mystery #strange #documentary #risetv #wonderous #entertainment #edgeofwonder #ancientdisasters #meta physical

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alusa12 · 1 year ago

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Lava Shell Massage: Embarking on an Ocean-Inspired Journey of Relaxation

Introduction:

In the world of rejuvenating spa experiences, Lava Shell Massage emerges as a unique and ocean-inspired modality, offering a therapeutic journey that transcends conventional massage techniques. Harnessing the elemental power of heated shells, this innovative approach combines the healing benefits of touch with the soothing warmth reminiscent of the ocean. In this exploration, we unveil the captivating art of Lava Shell Massage—a practice that invites individuals to embark on a tranquil voyage, connecting with the rhythmic energy of the sea for a profound sense of relaxation and well-being.출장안마

The Origins of Lava Shell Massage:

Lava Shell Massage finds its roots in ancient Pacific Island traditions, where natural tools were used for healing practices. In the modern adaptation, tiger clam shells are sourced sustainably and transformed into massage tools. The shells are polished and bonded together, creating a vessel heat and touch in a harmonious dance. 출장마사지

The Artistry of Lava Shells:

Central to the essence of Lava Shell Massage is the exquisite craftsmanship of the shells themselves. Tiger clam shells, chosen for their durability and unique shape, are transformed into Lava Shells. These shells are then filled with a proprietary blend of minerals, sea kelp, algae, and saltwater, creating a self-heating mechanism that mimics the comforting warmth of the ocean.

Heated Comfort:

The defining feature of Lava Shell Massage is the use of heated shells to deliver therapeutic warmth to the body. The self-heating technology within the shells ensures a consistent and gentle heat throughout the massage. This comforting warmth not only soothes the muscles but also contributes to the overall sense of relaxation and well-being.

Techniques of Lava Shell Massage:

Lava Shell Massage incorporates a variety of massage techniques, seamlessly integrated with the use of the heated shells. The therapist uses long, flowing strokes, gentle kneading, and targeted pressure to release tension and promote relaxation. The smooth, rounded surface of the shells allows for a seamless glide over the skin, creating a sensory experience that mirrors the ebb and flow of ocean waves.

Ocean-Inspired Aromatherapy:

To enhance the oceanic experience, Lava Shell Massage often incorporates aromatherapy inspired by the sea. Essential oils with marine notes, such as seaweed, eucalyptus, or lavender, may be used to create a sensory journey that transports individuals to the tranquil shores of the ocean. This fusion of aromatherapy and Lava Shell Massage engages multiple senses, deepening the overall relaxation effect.

Benefits of Lava Shell Massage:

Lava Shell Massage offers a myriad of benefits that extend beyond traditional massage modalities. The gentle heat from the shells contributes to muscle relaxation, alleviates tension, and enhances blood circulation. The soothing touch of the therapist, combined with the comforting warmth, induces a profound state of relaxation, making Lava Shell Massage particularly effective for stress reduction and anxiety relief.

Detoxification and Lymphatic Drainage:

The warmth of the Lava Shells aids in the relaxation of tissues, promoting detoxification through improved circulation and lymphatic drainage. As the therapist applies gentle pressure and strokes, the body's natural detoxification processes are stimulated, helping to release accumulated toxins and reducing fluid retention.

Energetic Alignment:

The philosophy of Lava Shell Massage extends beyond the physical realm to incorporate principles of energy balance. The shells, with their warm and grounding energy, are believed to contribute to the alignment of the body's subtle energy, fostering a sense of balance and harmony within. This holistic approach to well-being addresses not only the physical body but also the energetic aspects of one's being.

Mind-Body Connection:

Lava Shell Massage encourages a deep connection between the mind and body. The rhythmic and flowing nature of the massage, combined with the calming warmth of the shells, induces a meditative state. This mindful approach to massage promotes mental relaxation, stress reduction, and an enhanced sense of present-moment awareness.

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sorceressferaly · 3 years ago

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Hello fellow Mayalexer. I’d like to know what you think the long term consequences of the Ashland Volcano erupting would be? Sincerely, definitely not someone chronicling Jorvik.

Hello fellow Mayalex person who is definitely not a friend in real life to whom I hinted at that I wanted to answer this very question!

Something that is pretty interesting about large-scale volcanic eruptions is that they cause a lasting effect on the climate for the years to come.

"Little ice-ages" is a phenomenon that can be caused partially by volcanic eruptions, as the ashes linger in the stratosphere and block solar radiation. This leads to worldwide global cooling, which has resulted in harsh winters and poor harvests in the past.

In this post, I will compare a theoretical eruption of Garnok’s Fury with the eruption of an Icelandic volcano in 536, which had devastating consequences globally.

Warning: This might get pretty dark.

The year 536, volcanic eruptions were likely to be - or at the very least a major contributor to - the cause of a "darkening of the sky" where volcanic sulfur and particles coated the skies of the entire northern hemisphere and led to a major drop in temperatures for the next decade.

Catastrophic for the people alive by that time, and in the Mediterranean area a terrible plague named the Plague of Justinian* followed in the wake of the harsh conditions, killing millions.

“During this year a most dread portent took place. For the sun gave forth its light without brightness … and it seemed exceedingly like the sun in eclipse, for the beams it shed were not clear.” - Procopius, Byzantine historian, regarding the disastrous year 536.

Volcanic eruptions pose a danger stretching far beyond the initial eruption. Garnok's Fury would indeed have consequences of global reach!

So what would that mean for Jorvik? Well, if we consider that the consequences of the eruptions of 536 have been speculated by religious scholars to potentially be the source of myths such as the Fimbulvinter**, I think we can say that Jorvik is in for their very own ice age.

However, it's difficult to predict climate change directly in Jorvik, since the climate on the island is influenced not only by volcanic energy but very much by the inherent magic that exists on the island.

For this reason, while I believe that Jorvik wouldn't be covered in ice that would make the island completely uninhabitable, the people of Jorvik would be in for a harsh time.

The most immediate effect, as I mentioned in my previous post, would be the destruction of the dam in the Great Reservoir, which is said to provide most of the electricity and drinking water in Jorvik.

While we don't know the exact size or volume of the Great Reservoir, we know that Lisa describes it as more of an ocean than a dam, and old Jorvegian tales have said that it is bottomless. "Bottomless" is a bit difficult to calculate though, so to find a real-life Jorvik comparison, I'm going to look at a pretty big dam instead.

Karahnjukavirkjun in Iceland is capable of generating 4600 GWh of power annually, which according to the US Bureau of Reclamation is enough to provide electricity to about 1.5 million people. Since the population of Jorvik is likely below a million as Jorvik is supposed to be a relatively small and overlooked island nation on the world stage (only about 350.000 people live on Iceland) this one generator should cover most of Jorvik’s needs.

However, Karahnjukavirkjun is meant to generate power to the Icelandic aluminum industry. Aluminum production requires a ridiculous amount of energy... but Jorvik has no such industry. In fact – Jorvik doesn’t seem to host much of an industry at all!

I asked @jorvegian-chronicler for a second opinion on the industries of Jorvik, and besides raising horses and manufacturing equipment for equestrian needs, it seems like the largest industries on Jorvik would likely be the drilling/mining of natural resources such as oil/gas and fishing/farming second. These industries would have far less need of energy than aluminum production, and thus, the Great Reservoir may be the only source of hydroelectric power production on Jorvik.

However, hydroelectric power is not the only power source on Jorvik. Just like Iceland, Jorvik is likely to have access to a great amount of geothermal power and may use that to provide central heating - which the Jorvegians will likely need once the sky goes dark. There are also the aforementioned great reserves of oil and gas around the island, but it seems like these resources are mainly mined by private companies and not used by the state to provide additional electricity (which they wouldn’t need anyway), so most of the fossil fuels produced on Jorvik might be export only.

Aside from electricity, Linda states in Darkness Falling that most of the drinking water in Jorvik comes from the Great Reservoir. The only canonical area we know that has its own water supply is Dundull and with no more information available we must assume that it is indeed the only local source of drinking water, and all larger settlements such as Jorvik City and Jarlaheim are completely dependent on the Great Reservoir.

We can also make the fairly safe assumption that any farmers on Jorvik rely on an irrigation system powered by freshwater from the Great Reservoir.

Armed with this knowledge (read: qualified guesswork) we can now start speculating what will happen in Jorvik’s own day after tomorrow.

When the dam breaches, it will release an enormous flood of water that will crush everything in its way, eliminating any settlements in the direction of the tidal wave of water that will mercilessly flow out of the broken dam. Canonical locations affected would be Meander Village and Pine Hill Manor. They would likely have some time available for evacuation, but so much for Mr. Sands.

The second effect would be the failure of most of the Jorvegian power grid. While central heating might be covered by geothermal power plants, light, household apparatuses, computers, and various entertainment systems would be shut down. There might be enough emergency power to provide power for an emergency broadcast or low-level lighting, but this emergency power wouldn’t last forever.

If Jorvik has any coal or oil-powered plants, they’d need to start working overtime to fill the power vacuum. However, with Jorvik being very environmentally conscious I believe they would have decommissioned most of the fossil-fueled power plants.

The third effect would be the loss of clean drinking water. You never realize how much water you use until the tap dries up. Mistfall lake seems to be an independent water source, and Silversong River could likely be fueled by meltwater from Dino Valley, but the largest cities in Jorvik – Jorvik City and Jarlaheim – would be without clean water.

There are wells placed around Jorvik that still would be fine to use, but those wells are mainly intended to provide water for the horses in Jorvik, not to provide water for the humans in the cities.

It seems odd to place all the eggs in a single basket by relying so much on this one dam, but I’m not one to question Linda on her knowledge of Jorvegian infrastructure.

A likely consequence is that the Jorvegians that can do so should seek their way to the countryside and smaller settlements. Any village with wells present has a source of groundwater which Jorvik City does not.

The Jorvegian government will have to arrange for water to be transported from other sources, and since Jorvik City is close to Dundull, giant tank trucks would likely be sent into the Mistfall national park in order to transport some of that water back to Jorvik City. . Perhaps GED can make a fortune here by selling Go! Energy Drinks?

Local wells wouldn’t be enough to support large-scale irrigation of agriculture, however, and it would be likely that harvests would fail all around Jorvik that year, as there wouldn’t be enough water available to provide enough for an agricultural industry.

This would be a huge hit to Jorvik’s economy, which relies on the fertile land for a large number of crops, and we all know that it doesn’t seem to rain nearly enough on Jorvik to make up for the loss of irrigation water.

If the harvests would be bad the first year, the subsequent years will be even worse, as the sun will be blocked out by volcanic particles which will lead to a cooldown over the entire northern hemisphere. Reports from the year 536 speak about crop failures and a “failure in bread”, implying that the large amounts of grain grown on Jorvik may not survive the colder climate.

Failing crops and poor harvests will lead to a huge economic deficit not only for the agricultural industry but for the equestrian industry as well. Much of the crops grown on Jorvik are not meant for the human population to consume, but rather to feed Jorvik’s obsession with the equestrian industry.

With an agricultural industry in decline over the next few years, it follows that the equestrian industry can no longer be supported to the same extent.

Several of the horse breeds imported to Jorvik over time may not have the build to survive the colder climate at this time and would need to be transported away from the island. Indigenous and cold-resistant breeds may have better luck, but with no agricultural industry to support them, it’s likely that the equestrian industry as a whole would need to downsize.

This would indirectly impact Jorvik’s tourism industry, as fewer young people would be spending their summer vacation in Jorvik for several years. In fact, Jorvik would likely not experience another summer for years to come!***

On the upside, Jorvik’s glue industry has a bright future ahead.

Fortunately, the fishing and fossil fuel industries wouldn’t be nearly as badly affected by the disaster. With crops failing, the fishing industry would be even more paramount for domestic food production, and Cape West might grow from a small fishing village to a large harbor to support the increased needs for fishing and shipping.

The fossil fuel industries would have to be relied on to provide domestic energy production until the dam can be rebuilt, as well as powering the boats used by the fishing industry.

This increased need for domestic use of fossil fuels would likely hurt Jorvik’s ability to export said fossil fuels, which may have far-reaching consequences globally, as peace never tends to be an option once oil is on the table. It’s unlikely that Jorvik makes up a major part of the global fossil fuel production, but such a sudden change in the worldwide fossil fuel distribution would likely have some consequences on the global market.

With the equestrian and agricultural industries failing, and the fishing and fossil fuel industries taking on more importance, more of Jorvik’s workforce would likely move to work in the industries that can offer them jobs. Carl Peterson is an experienced oil rig worker and would likely be forced to accept a job in the fossil fuel industry, leading to the Starshine Ranch falling into ruin.

Other people may be forced to leave Jorvik entirely, as the failure of the equestrian industry would mean the loss of tens of thousands of jobs in the whole country.

The construction industry would likely be staying strong. There would be a need to rebuild the dam around the Great Reservoir. Construction on the Kárahnjúkar Dam took five years to complete, so we may be looking at a similar timeframe. Hopefully, they will build it to be sturdier this time as to not break as soon as some Sun Circle teenager opens a portal to Pandoria, and also construct some backup plans in the other lakes around Jorvik.

All in all, there would doubtlessly be many years of hardship to face on Jorvik. Hardships that I’m not sure that druidic magic could help with as we’re assuming a completely natural eruption not caused by Garnok and the Hell Portal.

Linda may still be able to foresee the eruption, but if she’d try to warn anyone, she’d likely get the Cassandra**** treatment. Of course, perhaps there is something that the Soul Riders could do to stop it. We don’t know all of the magic that runs through Jorvik, and honestly, I’m sure Linda can find some ritual to banish the initial volcanic eruption to the moon. Moon Circle OP.

There would be a light at the end of the tunnel, as the sun would gradually grow stronger as the particles fade away, and warm, pleasant summers with plentiful harvests would return to Jorvik.

...

Whew, that was pretty dark.

These kinds of events tend to have far-reaching consequences, and I barely even touched on how the political, cultural, and social development could turn out following the eruption, destruction of the dam, and the long winter.

The forces of nature can be great and terrible, and I don’t think most of us tend to reflect on the awesome power of volcanoes nearly often enough. We are but specks of dust in comparison to the movement of the continental plates and the forces of the Earth. Hopefully, we will learn how to master them yet.

Thanks for reading – now please get some water, have a snack, and read something more lighthearted.

*Poor Justinian. For all he did as a Roman Emperor, his name lives on in a plague. Constantine got a city named after him. Julius and Augustus Ceasar each got a month. Justinian got the plague. That's rough, buddy.

**Fimbulvinter is the harsh winter that ends almost all life on Midgård and is the harbinger of Ragnarok in Norse mythology. It has been theorized that this myth was based on stories of harsh winters without any summers in between, that were passed down in oral tradition as tales of the future. Winter is coming, anyone?

***On the other hand, many might be happy that snow in Jorvik is finally back. Why let a little hemispherical disaster get in the way of enjoying the year-long winter?

****Cassandra was a seer and priestess of Apollo in the Illiad myth, cursed with the power to utter completely true prophesies but never be believed. I think Linda relates to her a lot on a personal level.

#sso #starstable #star stable online #volcanoes #long post #volcanic winters #jorvik #Nadia I hope you are happy :P

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winnix85 · 4 years ago

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About Lewis Nixon’s mother Doris Ryer Nixon (Mrs Stanhope Nixon)

Source: mostly from old newspapers and digitized documents (I can’t guarantee the accuracy because they are fragmented information. I will just put it out there for someone may find some interesting useful backstories).

Doris Ryer was born on Oct 1 1894.

Her father Fletcher Ryer was a wealthy pioneer agriculturalist in California. He owned 6,600-acre (27 km2) ranch on Ryer Island, which was named in their honor. Because Doris was his only heiress, this ranch all went to Doris and then to Lewis Nixon III and ultimately to Grace Nixon. It's an agricultural (instead of livestocks) ranch. They grew crops, fruits and vegetables such as wheat, milo, safflower, pears, apples, cherries, grapes, tomatoes and asparagus. They produced such large amount of asparagus that Doris's mother, Mrs Ryer was nicknamed Asparagus Queen back then. This farm is still up and running today, managed by Clarence Hester from 1950s to 1990s (Nix' war buddy, the regimental S3, the one who wrestled with Dick in that photo), after him by his son Thomas Hester.

Doris was educated at Madame Payen's school in Paris from 1906 to 1914 (her entire high school).

Fletcher Ryer died an early death in 1911 (when Doris was about 16). Doris was close to her mother Mrs Blanche Ryer. Mrs Blanche Ryer, though very charming, married very very young. As a pretty, attractive, wealthy widow she determined to ensure that her daughter Doris have a brilliant "bellehood" as a girl. She took Doris to tour around the world. For example, in Sep1913, they traveled to Russia to present Doris at the court of Tsar Nicholas II (Very inconvenient timing, I have to say).

Doris was very sweet and attractive, with pretty black eyes. Her mother has always been most ambitious for her handsome daughter. She aimed to marry Doris to British aristocracy. Doris was presented at Buckingham Palace in 1914, wearing "a white satin princess gown embroidered in pearls and brilliants". Mrs Ryer has had her eye on several members of the British aristocracy for Doris, "but this cruel war, of course, smashed all of her well-laid plans to smithereens." She has to stoop so low to choose from American heirs.

Doris married Stanhope in Jan 1917 in New York at Church of Heavenly Rest. Their wedding was the social event of the year. Guests from coast to coast attended Nixon-Ryer wedding.

The bride's costume was soft white satin, made in combination with pearl embroidered net. She worn a lovely veil, the same that had been worn by her grandmother at her wedding, which was held in place with a band of diamonds. Her only other ornament was a necklace of diamonds with a large pear-shaped diamond pendant, the gift of the bridegroom.

Because the father of bride has died, she was given away by governor of New York Charles S. Whitman. Among those in attendance were the Brazilian ambassador and Argentine ambassador.

After the wedding the new couple went to Bermuda for honeymoon and then they lived at 52 East Fifty-second Street NYC (but later moved to 46 East 65 Street). In 1920 census, the household of the new couple included Stanhope the head of the house, Doris the wife, Lewis the one and half yr old old baby son, and a butler and 3 maids. They also have a suburb house at 167 Grange Ave, New Jersey (a 20-room estate, equiped with oil burning hot water heat, a 4-car garage, servants quarters, a boat house and a stable).

After marrying off her daughter to the Nixons, Mrs Blanche Ryer re-married in 1920 to Clifford Erskine-Bolst, a British conservative party politician. Mr Erskine-Bolst was elected to the British House of Commons in 1923 and again in 1931. To help him win the election, she made generous donations to King George's Hospital in England. She campained hard for him, making speeches and appealing to the constituency in the South Hackney district.

In 1920s, mama Doris bought a villa at Riviera France from the late Grand Duchess Anastasia of Russia. She lived there until her death in 1939 (This villa went to Nix. But he didn't like living there, too much hassle to open the house. He prefered to stay at the hotel Cap Estel. In 1950s he leased it to the Kennedys).

Doris and Stanhope seemed to be ok in 1920s. They attended social events together and traveled to England together. After Lew, they had a baby boy in 1922 (who tragically died in 3 months. Doris' mother went to New York to be with her.) Then they had Blanche Nixon in Aug 1924 (also born in NYC). While living in NYC, it seems little Lew was often spending time with his grandfather. Grandpa often took him to play at central park. For example, he took Lew to that model yacht regatta in central park when he was 7, and to skate in central park in Jan 1927 when lew was 8. In 1927, Doris took 2 yr old Blanche to France to visit her mother, but she didn't take Lew (maybe he was too naughty?). Anyway, Doris took Blanche to see grandma almost every year but Lew was only with them on one visit when he was 10 yr old.

Doris appeared to be lonely and out of place in the social circle of New York. Here is a social note about her in 1929: "A remarkable girl with her embroidery frame, actually engaged in a simple, normal occupation in a land where the atmosphere is charged with hang-overs, gambling-losses and mistrust. Nobody around here looks twice at a woman with mauve hair like Madame de Roch, or at a man with ear-rings and a bracelet on his ankle. But let a girl take out a half-finished centerpiece and commence embroidering and every lorgnette in the crowd is whipped into place."

At the end of 1920s, Doris seemed to be so unhappy to live on the east coast anymore, and she still regarded CA to be her real home. Stanhope sold their house in New Jersey and bought a new house in Montecito (also a mansion with a large stable and everything). In the 1930 census they were living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (Stanhope, Doris, Lewis (11yr), Blanche(5yr), and a French governess, and 2 servants). Lew attended boarding school at Cate School in Santa Barbara.

In social notes in 1930s, Stanhope and Doris mainly attended social events in CA (Santa Barbara and San Francisco), they also travel to New York to visit Mr and Mrs Lewis Nixon Sr.. The family traveled a lot, not only back and forth between east-west coasts, but also trips abroad. Doris always took Blanche with her, but Lew traveled on his own even when he was as young as 15 yr old. It appears that Doris and Stanhope's relationship has gone sour in 1930s. For example, in this 1934 social note: "The Stanhope Nixons will spend the Christmas holidays with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Nixon. Mr Nixon will return to California on Jan 1, and Mrs Nixon will sail for Europe to spend six months on the Riviera with her mother." (almost as if Doris was running away from Stanhope and hide in France after briefly met him on Xmas day. Meanwhile 15 yr old Lew was at boarding school in CA).

In 1940 census, Doris and Blanche were still living at 180 Cold Spring Road, montecito, CA (with a housekeeper, a cook and a maid). Stanhope was no longer in this household. Maybe they have separated. Lew was also not in this household for he has left for college.

Among the CA high society, Doris was a all-around likable person: "Doris is always bubbling over with enthusiasm, her joy of living and her wit making her a welcome guest at any affair". She was very enthusiastic about opera (and art events in general, such as oriental dance). She attended the openning of Opera Season at San Francisco every year (usually with Blanche, and she will grab Lew when she can catch him). In 1940, she offered a prize for the "Best one act play" to stimulate interest in the Lobero Theater of Santa Barbara. She also went to see excellent plays in New York when it's in season and made some witty comments about the remarkable fashion trends in New York: "The only lavender and old lace that you see today is on the individual--the lavender in the tinted hair, and the lace on the dainty unmentionables."

After the Pearl Harbor Attack, Doris turned from a socialite to a civic leader. In 1942 she became the national vice-president of the American Women's Voluntary Services (AWVS) (and during ww2). The AWVS recruited and trained women to harvest crops, do nurse works, driving trucks and sell war bonds. She encouraged women to show more interest in international affairs. She also founded Guide Dogs for the Blind in 1943 (primarily to help the blinded veterans) and she made generous donations. In addition, she was the state commander of the California Cancer Society.

The AWVS duties kept her so busy, she has to relinquish her box at the opera house. She only had long enough time to have a toasted chicken sandwich for lunch. She put generous amount of English mustard on her sandwich. When her friends cautioned her not to put too much, she said:"If it puts me out, I will be a most excellent subject for the first aid class I am about to attend, and we will all find out how much we know!"

In the summer of 1945, Doris and Stanhope finally divorced (Stanhope even filed counter-suits seeking divorce on the grounds of desertion). They divorced in August, and Stanhope married "the Blond" in September 1945.

In June 1948, Doris died at home (944 Chestnut Str San Francisco CA). She had a stroke (and she always had hypertention). It seems her death was an unexpected sudden death because one month before she was still traveling around France with her daughter Blanche. Her will dictated to split her legacy equally between Blanche and Lew. She also left generous amount of money to employees such as housekeeper, secretary. For a former maid, she gave her $225 monthly for life.

#doris ryer nixon #Doris Ryer #Mrs Stanhope Nixon #She was a wonderful person #Generous kind and funny #lewis nixon #band of brothers

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group1000 · 3 years ago

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How Sri Lanka’s economy destroyed itself

Our island neighbor is bleeding. With the annual inflation at 18.5% in March 2022, the story of Sri Lanka is heartbreaking, traumatic and unsettling. The truth about the country is that it has fallen into a debt trap due to poor governance, corruption and of course, a lot of foreign debt. And now, it is the people who have to suffer. While one is reading this from the comfort of an air-conditioned room, people in Sri Lanka stand in queues that extend 2-3 km long even just for food, fuel and medicines.

How bad is this Economic Crisis?

Going through its worst economic crisis since 1948 when the country gained independence, the prices of essential items in Sri Lanka have sky-rocketed. The price of a kg of rice was ₹290, and that of sugar is ₹240 in March end.

Citizens have to stand in long queues for hours even to get essential. The people have to face daily power cuts of more than seven hours in the scorching heat. The administration recently had to cancel the school examinations because of country’s failure to import paper.

The 5 main reasons which led to this crisis

1. Shortage of Foreign Reserves

The alleged economic mismanagement of successive governments led to depletion of 70% of Sri Lanka’s foreign reserves with only $2.31 billion left with debt repayment of over $4 billion. Sri Lanka’s high dependency on imports for essential items further adds fuel to the economic meltdown because the island nation lacks foreign reserves to pay for its import bills. The country could face a trade deficit of $10 billion this year.

2. The pandemic effect

The island nation's huge dependence on tourism and foreign remittances took a serious due to COVID-19 pandemic. Tourism, which accounts for over 10% of the Sri Lankan GDP, was hurt after it lost visitors from three key countries namely India, Russia and the UK.

3. Russia-Ukraine war-induced inflation

Crude oil prices hit a record high in 14 years with prices soaring over $125/barrel at the height of the crisis, as the ongoing Russia-Ukraine war resulted in steep price inflation of crude oil, sunflower oil and wheat. But helped by supplying 40,000 MT of diesel under a promised $500 million line of credit and also supplied over 2,00,000 MT of fuel in the last 50 days so far.

4. Agri sector crisis

On a sudden day, the President decided that the whole country’s agriculture be turned organic, thus banning all synthetic fertilizers and pesticides that was to be done over a period of 10 years. This drastically impacted the production volume, and the efficiency got reduced by 20 to 30%,consequently severely hitting the country's farm production.

5. President’s promises

The President of Sri Lanka, Gotabaya Rajapaksa, in his presidential campaign, promised that he would cut down the Value Added Tax to half, with the motive of increasing consumption among the citizens, as reduced taxes would encourage increased spending. When he won, he put that money where his mouth was. But the timing was ill-fated as after three months of execution of this, Covid-19 happened. Thus, the cut down in taxes led to the government saw a major revenue loss.

How has the Sri Lanka responded to the crisis so far?

Sri Lanka declared an economic emergency to control food supply amid soaring inflation in September 2021. The country also had devalued its currency and imposed import curbs on many items to prevent further depletion of its forex reserves. It had partially revoked the fertiliser ban as well. Sri Lanka has approached the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for debt restructuring and a possible bailout.

Conclusion

Huge piles of foreign debt, soaring inflation, depleting foreign currency reserves, devalued currency – Sri Lanka is the breathing, living example of everything that could ever go wrong with a nation's economy. However, it remains to be seen whether the desperate political measures like a new cabinet, resignation of lawmakers and changing the central bank chief will help Lanka salvage the economy that's currently in neck-deep in crisis. In addition to the above measures, the Sri Lankan government sought aid from the US, India and China. India has extended a $1billion line of credit for the supply of essential commodities already and financial assistance of $2.4 billion has also been provided by our country since January. Let’s just hope that the “Go Gota Go” protest by Sri Lankan citizens comes to fruition.

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agapaic · 4 years ago

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[19 days] sin city

this drabble is a gift to one of my dearest and biggest supporters, @geoviki, who requested a bonus ‘second kiss’ continuation scene between he tian and guan shan in the ‘sweet tooth’ universe (a crazy rich asians-inspired fic), and i sincerely hope you enjoy it, viki! all my love, xxx

Guan Shan hasn’t set foot in God’s house since he was a kid. His mother goes every weekend when she doesn’t have a double shift, but he can’t bring himself to go with her. Too busy, too cynical. He knows he can’t struggle with his faith when he’s lost it; he doesn’t know if he ever found it. He knows without a doubt that he sins.

As it is, he isn’t burnt in the service, isn’t poisoned by the communion. He thinks that if anyone were to be dealt retribution then he wouldn’t be first in line. Singapore’s elite have bigger, dustier skeletons in their closets than Guan Shan, half-disintegrated with age.

He tells himself this through the readings and prayers and hymns he’s forgotten the words to, glances routinely through the stained-glass windows for a glimpse of an outside reality he can’t see. He can hear it: the rush of mid-morning traffic beyond the grassy verges of the church, neatly protected from the central business district by iron fencing and a half-acre of flower beds and rain trees.

Beneath the lip of the pew, where copies of the testaments, old and new, have been neatly placed and the firm, embroidered hassocks hang off metal hooks, He Tian squeezes Guan Shan’s hand.

‘Nearly done,’ he murmurs, while Father Joshua delivers his sermon on godliness in children and parental obedience.

Guan Shan's gaze slides to his. It’s one of the only things He Tian’s said the whole service.

‘You believe all this?’ he asks, whispering.

‘They do,’ He Tian replies, his lips barely moving.

Fans move lazily above them from the high steepled ceiling, their chains rattling over the din of the priest’s solemn tone. They don’t offer much: the inside of the church is still sticky with heat, and members of the congregation attempt to cool themselves with the service pamphlets or paperback copies of the Bible with broken spines and annotations in the margins.

From the seat in front of them, Guan Shan watches a bead of sweat slide down a woman’s neck, dampness collecting at the high laced collar of her Chanel dress. She has her own bamboo fan, painted with pretty avian sketches.

Guan Shan pulls his gaze away. ‘Which godly child are you?’ he asks He Tian quietly. ‘Absolom or Samuel?’

He Tian tries to hide a grin. ‘Destroyer of kingdoms or a monk?’ he questions, angling his head as if looking behind him. His breath is cool at Guan Shan’s ear. Guan Shan lets him lean close, breathing in sandalwood and khus oil. ‘Are those my only choices?’

Guan Shan sets his eyes forward. ‘Nothin’ else seems to be acceptable.’

‘Yes—they’re a stern lot.’

‘They should put their money where their mouth is.’

He Tian snorts quietly. He releases Guan Shan’s hand, and Guan Shan says nothing when his hand moves instead to rest innocently atop Guan Shan’s thigh.

‘He Tian…’ he starts to warn.

He Tian keeps his expression plain. ‘I told you if you came I’d make it worth your while.’

‘That’s not—’ Guan Shan bats his hand away. The gesture elicits a harsh smacking sound, and a few heads turn. Guan Shan presses his lips into a hard line. When eventually their attention shifts away again, Guan Shan hisses, ‘I’m not doin’ that.’

‘I thought you didn’t care much for His wrath,’ He Tian says, pointing discreetly upwards.

‘That’s got nothin’ to do with…’ Guan Shan breaks off. He Tian’s eyes are glittering. He’s joking with him. Guan Shan clenches his jaw. Murmuring, he says: ‘You shouldn’t mess with people like that.’

‘But you make it so much fun,’ He Tian whispers.

Guan Shan glares at him. He endures the rest of the sermon in stoic silence. Absolom, he thinks. He Tian, the destroyer of kingdoms—and young men’s hearts.

///

They linger outside after the sermon. The air is thick and charged with the aftermath of a morning thunderstorm, the ground wet with rain and the smell of petrichor. Guan Shan breathes in deeply, stepping back while He Tian greets strangers and allows middle-aged women to offer both cheeks for him to kiss, their husbands noticeably absent. They run their eyes over Guan Shan and the suit he’s going to make He Tian return by the end of the day, and He Tian politely evades their desire for introductions.

He knows everyone, Guan Shan realises, but it doesn’t surprise him. He’s seen the He family work a crowd at a party or a charity function. The lingering congregation of a Sunday mass is only another opportunity to schmooze and gossip.

‘Just another five minutes,’ He Tian murmurs at Guan Shan’s ear. ‘My father will have my hide if I don’t show my face for a decent length of time.’

‘How long’s that? By his standards?’

‘He’d have me go to brunch with someone’s mother and their daughter if he had his way.’

Guan Shan fingernails bite into his palms. The thought of He Tian being palmed off to some socialite’s offspring makes him bitter with jealousy. He’s seen He Tian only a few times since the charity function at the She estate, communicated with him mostly in veiled text messages and late night calls.

It’s been weeks since they’d shared the feeling of each other’s lips in a quiet room at the She mansion, weeks since they’d shared kueh with their legs dangling over the edge of a jetty across from Sentosa island. Most nights, Guan Shan still tastes both on his lips.

He’s got little stake to claim over the young heir of the He fortune, but he can’t help himself. He goes where He Tian asks him to, wears the suits He Tian buys him. Fuck, he’s started smoking his brand of cigarettes, too. And if He Tian wants to take him to church one Sunday morning so he has better company than a band of middle-aged women wanting him for themselves more than their daughters… Who is Guan Shan to say no after the first three times?

‘What are you thinking?’

Guan Shan blinks. Another church-goer has come and gone, and they’re alone. He Tian is watching him closely.

‘I want a cigarette,’ Guan Shan says. Technically, it’s not a lie.

He Tian snorts. ‘In the courtyard of our Lady of the Veil? Blasphemy, Mo Guan Shan.’

Guan Shan shrugs. He remembers their exchange at the threshold of the church, where two children no more than ten stood with a coin bowl held out, covered in pool-table green cloth and more cash than Guan Shan earns from a month’s tips.

‘I’m not a Catholic,’ he’d told He Tian, feeling strangely compelled to tell him with an even stranger degree of anxiety about the fact, as if it were a make-or-break moment for something they had that could neither be made nor broken.

He Tian had snorted then, too. ‘Don’t worry,’ he’d said, stepping through the doors, palming the children a few bills to line their pockets. ‘Neither am I.’

Now, Guan Shan watches as He Tian reaches into the lining of his suit jacket and pulls out a carton of cigarettes from the pocket. It’s too warm to stand outside in their Sunday best for long, and He Tian tugs Guan Shan over beneath the shade of an Indian-almond tree, its boughs offering some cool relief to a small section of the church courtyard.

Guan Shan watches He Tian light a cigarette between his lips, the flame close to his fingers. It catches; there’s a cherry red glow. Smoke blooms between them, and then He Tian plucks the cigarette from his lips and holds it out as if it’s a newly picked flower.

‘Here,’ he says. A moment passes, where Guan Shan doesn’t take it. ‘I thought you wanted it.’

‘I do, I just—’ Guan Shan can feel his cheeks starting to redden. He swallows. His throat has gone dry. He can hear the voices of men and women standing before the church. He knows some of them are watching, wondering, eager to know who his family is and where he’s come from and how he has captured He Tian’s attention with such painful, singular attentiveness.

‘You’re not—’ He Tian breaks off with a laugh. ‘You’re not worried that I’ve touched it, are you?’

Guan Shan looks away, and He Tian’s eyes widen.

‘Oh,’ he says. His smile grows wider. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he croons. ‘I didn’t know you were such a puritan. How proud He’d be.’

‘Shut up,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s stance shifts, intrigued. ‘If I’d known it took an indirect kiss to make you blush, Man Upstairs be damned, I’d have put my mouth elsewhere a long time ago.’

‘Shut up.’

He Tian’s laughter is deep as he takes a drag of his cigarette. Some of the women are frowning at him. The hot breeze carries the smoke in their direction, and they waft it away with their fans and paper service pamphlets, rouged mouths pursing tightly. He smiles at them, all affable apologies, and they can’t begrudge him long.

‘They want you to fuck them,’ Guan Shan mutters.

He Tian’s eyes flick to his, and his smile grows indulgent. ‘I know,’ he says.

‘You’re not gonna do anythin’ about it?’

‘Like what?’

Guan Shan grits his teeth. ‘Like—tell them to fuck off?’

He Tian snorts. ‘They’re old friends of the family. And you forget they haven’t made me an offer, sweetheart.’

‘And if they did?’

He Tian considers him carefully. His playfulness begins to fade. ‘You’re jealous,’ he says. ‘Of them?’

‘They’d divorce their investment husbands if they knew they had a chance with you.’

He Tian taps cigarette ash to the ground. He looks away, squinting at the skyline, considering something, before taking a step forward.

‘Firstly,’ says He Tian, his voice low, ‘if they had a chance with me they’d know it. Secondly, there’d be no divorce or marriage to a man twenty years their junior because their reputations wouldn’t survive the scandal. And thirdly: what the fuck would I want with them when I have the prospect of a whole indirect kiss with you?’

Guan Shan glares at him. ‘Gimme that,’ he says, snatching the cigarette from He Tian’s fingers before putting it to his lips. He nearly chokes on the inhale, eyes watering, and smoke seeps from the corners of his mouth before he can control it the way he wants it to. There’s nothing attractive about it, but he catches He Tian watching him with an indulgent smile.

‘It’s been five minutes,’ He Tian says, taking a glance at his watch. ‘We can go now. I promised to buy you brunch. You’re still happy with Orchard Road?’

‘I’m not finished,’ Guan Shan says.

He Tian’s brows lift. ‘You can’t smoke and walk?’

‘I didn’t mean that.’

He Tian tilts his head. ‘Oh?’

‘I meant—it’s not really fair, is it? It’s always—always you kissin’ me, and shit.’

‘Always?’

‘Yeah, with the—distractin’ the guards at She Li’s house and with—’ He makes a vague gesture. ‘—the cigarette and—’

‘Guan Shan—’

‘—it’s only fair that I get to prove my own fuckin’ point too—’

‘Mo Guan Shan—’

‘So will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’

He Tian stares at him.

Then he swallows.

‘If you really want to,’ he starts, ‘I suppose I’m in no position to—mmphh!’

It isn’t tender or soft, and Guan Shan is vaguely aware of the cigarette burning to ash between his fingers. He lets it fall, hopes he’s ground it out beneath his foot properly and remembers to pick it up after or risk a fine, but first: this. His fingers tightly locked in the dark strands of He Tian’s hair; He Tian’s lips bruising against his own, the sharp gasps of the women loitering by the church doors.

It’s exactly as he remembers from last time. A crushing pressure, the sense of being caught unawares. No finesse. Guan Shan knows it could be slower, that they could take their time, a pilgrimage of vulnerability and one body learning another, but something possessive in him has taken over—this is a crusade.

He Tian’s answering kiss twists into a grin against Guan Shan’s mouth. Guan Shan swallows He Tian’s amusement down, finds the feel of He Tian’s smile against his lips unfairly alluring. He does his best to try and rid He Tian of it, crowding close until He Tian’s back hits the trunk of the almond tree and He Tian is groaning beneath the pressure of his lips. He tastes the acrid smoke of their shared cigarette and He Tian’s breath mints, feels the humid beat of the mid-morning sun—and He Tian’s hand pressing gently at his chest.

He pulls away, staggering and breathing hard. With satisfaction, he notes that He Tian is, too.

‘I think we’re even now,’ says He Tian, a slight rasp to his voice. His eyes are bright and he runs his thumbnail over his lower lip, which has gone swollen and red. ‘You’ve suitably convinced your audience.’

Guan Shan looks away. ‘Dunno what you’re talkin’ about.’

‘Oh?’ He Tian asks, amused. ‘That wasn’t you staking your claim?’

Guan Shan hesitates. Part of him can’t bear to look behind him. ‘Are you gonna be excommunicated?’

He Tian chuckles. ‘I’m sure I can find my way back in. Father Joshua is particularly fond of He Cheng’s hideously curvaceous Bugatti.’

‘Guess that’s somethin’,’ Guan Shan mutters.

In answer, He Tian sweeps a hand through the loose strands of Guan Shan’s red hair that have slipped down across his forehead. The touch is fond and familiar and makes Guan Shan swallow hard.

‘You know,’ says He Tian. ‘You can do that any time you want. Not just to prove a point.’

‘You haven’t,’ says Guan Shan, an accusation.

‘I didn’t want to scare you off. I realise last time I was a bit—’

‘Forceful?’

‘Abrupt,’ He Tian corrects delicately. ‘But still—I don’t want you to think you’re any less mine.’

Guan Shan looks at him. ‘Thought you couldn’t have anythin’ you wanted.’

‘Ah…’ He Tian drops his hand, leans back on the heels of his Louis Vitto’s. Almost boyishly, he says, ‘I thought it was a done deal. You and me.’

Guan Shan neither confirms or denies. Instead he asks, ‘Who’d you trade with to get that impression?’

He Tian nods his head upwards. ‘Did it work? I sold my soul for it. ’

‘And they still let you in?’

He Tian’s look is sinful. ‘They let the worst of us through.’

Guan Shan rolls his eyes. He wets his lips. ‘Well,’ he says. ‘I think you’re on a decent road to redemption.’

‘Is that your way of saying it was a worthwhile bargain?’ Tell me it worked.

‘Is that your way of askin’ if I’m yours?’ Guan Shan asks. All these riddles and metaphors—sometimes he has to bring them back to the ground, make sure they’re on the same page.

‘I—Yes.’

Guan Shan nods, then jerks his chin in a challenge. ‘Make me believe it and I might be.’

He Tian’s eyes flicker towards the church just for a moment, but then he smirks, reaffirming their closeness with one step. ‘Mo Guan Shan,’ he murmurs, angling his head down, ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

#19 days #tianshan #old xian #he tian #mo guan shan #sweet tooth #crazy rich asians #my fanfic

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jetairco · 11 months ago

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#Oil Central Heating Long Island #Oil Heating Boiler Northport #Oil Central Heating Boiler Repair Services #USA

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bananaofswifts · 4 years ago

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BY: JILLIAN MAPES JUL 27 2020

POP/R&B

Made from afar, primarily with the National’s Aaron Dessner, Swift’s eighth album is a sweater-weather record filled with cinematic love songs and rich fictional details.

The phantom pang of missing someone before you ever meet them is an emotion worthy of its own word. That fated feeling of love and the passage of time is the theme that runs between Carly Rae Jepsen’s smash hit ��Call Me Maybe” and the National’s antisocial romance “Slow Show”; it’s also the kind of thing Taylor Swift might write about. One of the loveliest tracks on folklore, the surprise album the singer-songwriter made primarily with the National’s guitarist Aaron Dessner, stands out for a strangely similar reason: a thread connecting two strangers that exists long before either realizes it’s there. “And isn’t it just so pretty to think/All along there was some/Invisible string/Tying you to me,” she sings on the delightfully plucky “invisible string,” simultaneously recalling famous lines from Jane Eyre and The Sun Also Rises.

folklore will forever be known as Taylor Swift’s “indie” album, a sweater-weather record released on a whim in the blue heat of this lonely summer, filled with cinematic love songs in search of a film soundtrack. There are those who already dislike folklore on principle, who assume it’s another calculated attempt on Swift’s part to position her career as just so (how dare she); meanwhile, fans will hold it up as tangible proof that their leader can do just about anything (also a stretch). While it’s true that folklore pushes the limits of Swift’s sound in a particular, perhaps unexpected direction, her reference points feel more like mainstream “indie” homage than innovation, taking cues from her collaborators’ work and bits of nostalgia.

At its best, folklore asserts something that has been true from the start of Swift’s career: Her biggest strength is her storytelling, her well-honed songwriting craft meeting the vivid whimsy of her imagination; the music these stories are set to is subject to change, so long as it can be rooted in these traditions. You can tell that this is what drives Swift by the way she molds her songs: cramming specific details into curious cadences, bending the lines to her will. It’s especially apparent on folklore, where the production—mostly by Dessner, with Jack Antonoff’s pop flair occasionally in the mix—is more minimal than she typically goes for. Her words rise above the sparse pianos, moody guitars, and sweeping orchestration, as quotable as ever.

After years as pop’s most reliable first-person essayist, Swift channels her distinct style into what are essentially works of fiction and autofiction, finding compelling protagonists in a rebellious heiress and a classic teenage love triangle. In “the last great american dynasty,” she tells the story of eccentric debutante Rebekah Harkness, who married into the Standard Oil family and once lived in Swift’s Rhode Island mansion, as a way to celebrate women who “have a marvelous time ruining everything.” Filled with historical details and Americana imagery, you can see the song play out in your mind like a storybook, but it also effectively makes a point about society’s treatment of brash women. Swift cleverly draws a line between Harkness and herself at the end, an idea she fleshes out in a more literal sequel, “mad woman.” Out of all the songs on folklore, “the last great american dynasty” is the all-timer, the instant classic. It sounds like the latter-day National/Taylor mashup you never knew you needed—textural and tastefully majestic, with Fitzgerald-esque lines about filling the pool with champagne instead of drinking all the wine.

With folklore’s teen heartbreak trilogy, Swift circles the same affair from each party’s differing view. “betty” is the story of 17-year-old James trying to win back his girlfriend after cheating, a familiar crime rendered new by the narrator’s genuine remorse and belief in a love regained. It has the youthful hope of a song like “Wide Open Spaces,” yet is noticeably wiser (and queerer) than the high school romances Swift wrote as an actual teenager. First single “cardigan” is told by Betty, whose disillusionment with James results in a sad, sensuous sound reminiscent of Lana Del Rey, down to the vocal style and casual lyrical quotation of another pop song. But the songs’ overlapping details and central framing device—of a cardigan forgotten and found without a second thought—are pure Swift, an instant memory portal not unlike the scarf in Red’s “All Too Well.” (The cutesy marketing angle for “cardigan” is reliably Swiftian as well.) And even though “august” is considered to be the third in the trilogy, the record’s most tender, saccharine love story plays out during “illicit affairs.” “You taught me a secret language I can’t speak with anyone else,” she sings. “And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself.” The scenes and perspectives evoked by these songs alone speak volumes about Swift’s evolution as a songwriter.

The theme of folklore is a very different way of acknowledging that people will talk, an idea that animated 2017’s trap-tinged work of minor villainy, Reputation. Swift knows her own mythology like a model knows her angles, and that’s part of what makes folklore fascinating if you maintain an open mind: a kind of reverse-engineered “mindie” project, it sonically situates her closest to Lana and chamber-pop belter Florence Welch, but may also occasionally remind you of Triple-A radio, Sufjan Stevens if he killed his more ambitious tendencies, or Big Red Machine, Dessner’s duo with Justin Vernon (see: the sparse and soulful “peace”). The album’s actual duet with Vernon, “exile,” is a little like a Bon Iver take on “Falling Slowly,” the centerpiece of the 2007 folk musical Once: awkwardly dragging until the clouds slowly part to allow something beautiful to build. Swift is playing the long game here, and while there are no wild missteps, the album could use some selective pruning (see: “seven,” “hoax”).

It’s worth pointing out that folklore isn’t a total outlier in Swift’s catalog either, or even her recent work. The tracks with Antonoff shift away from the ’80s electro-pop of 1989 and onward, but they lean into the Mazzy Star swoon of Lover’s title track, Swift’s ongoing fascination with Imogen Heap, and a twinge of the Cranberries. There are interesting images, indelible hooks, and real signs of maturity. In the dreamy “mirrorball,” Swift likens the relatability trap of fame to a disco ball, singing of fluttering on tiptoes and trying hard to make it look effortless. “august” is a great, lusty Swift summer anthem about forbidden love, where the up-close, white-hot heat of songs like “Style” or “Getaway Car” is traded for wistful reflection in the rearview. Like the rest of us, Taylor Swift knows she’s had better summers before and she’ll have better summers again. At least she’s made thoughtful use of this one.

#taylor swift #folklore #review

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newstfionline · 3 years ago

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Tuesday, June 29, 2021

Offices after COVID: Wider hallways, fewer desks (AP) The coronavirus already changed the way we work. Now it’s changing the physical space, too. Many companies are making adjustments to their offices to help employees feel safer as they return to in-person work, like improving air circulation systems or moving desks further apart. Others are ditching desks and building more conference rooms to accommodate employees who still work remotely but come in for meetings. Architects and designers say this is a time of experimentation and reflection for employers. Steelcase, an office furniture company based in Grand Rapids, Michigan, says its research indicates half of global companies plan major redesigns to their office space this year. “This year caused you to think, maybe even more fundamentally than you ever have before, ‘Hey, why do we go to an office?’” said Natalie Engels, a San Jose, California-based design principal at Gensler, an architecture firm.

Canada sets record temperature of over 114 degrees amid heat wave, forecasts of even hotter weather (Washington Post) Lytton, a village in British Columbia, became the first place in Canada to ever record a temperature over 113 degrees Fahrenheit on Sunday—and experts are predicting even hotter weather to come. The temperature in Lytton soared to just under 115 degrees Sunday, according to Environment Canada, a government weather agency. “It’s warmer in parts of western Canada than in Dubai. I mean, it’s just not something that seems Canadian,” Environment Canada senior climatologist David Phillips told CTV News on Saturday. Even in the metropolitan hub of Vancouver, parks, beaches and pools have been flooded with residents eager to cool off as the temperature hit 89 degrees at the local airport on Sunday—a record in a coastal city that usually has mild weather. The high temperatures in the region have been blamed on a “heat dome”—a sprawling area of high pressure—now sitting over western Canada and the Pacific Northwest. Experts say climate change can make extreme weather events like this more common.

Florida condo collapse echoes tragedies in Brazil, Egypt and India (Washington Post) Around the world, in countries with paltry building codes, little enforcement of existing rules and the proliferation of informal housing, tragedies like Thursday’s building collapse in Florida—where scores of people are still missing—have taken a heavy toll. Among the missing is the first cousin of a former president of Chile, where in 2019 at least six people died when two houses collapsed in the port city of Valparaiso. Others are from Argentina and Colombia, sites of two deadly building tragedies that killed at least a dozen people in each country in 2013. On Friday, five people were killed in the coastal Egyptian city of Alexandria after a five-story building collapsed—an all-too-frequent event in a country where planning permits are often bypassed or violated and makeshift structures house millions of people. At least two people died in Brazil when a four-story residential building crumbled June 3 in a slum in Rio de Janeiro, were organized crime is known to have a hand in shoddy construction projects. In India, buildings are routinely at risk of collapse during the annual monsoon rains. The night of June 9, at least 11 people, including eight children, were killed in Mumbai when a two-story building collapsed on nearby structures, the BBC reported. Local authorities said it was likely due to heavy rains.

New Cuba policy on hold while Biden deals with bigger problems (Washington Post) Five months into his administration, President Biden’s campaign promise to “go back” to the Obama policy of engagement with Cuba remains unfulfilled, lodged in a low-priority file somewhere between “too hard” and “not worth it.” “I would say that 2021 is not 2015,” when Obama reestablished full diplomatic relations with Havana and opened the door to increased U.S. travel and trade with the communist-ruled island, only to see Donald Trump slam it closed again, a senior administration official said. “We have an entire world and a region in disarray,” the official said, speaking on the condition of anonymity to discuss internal deliberations. “We are combating a pandemic and dealing with a breaking down of democracy in a whole host of countries. That is the environment we are in. When it comes down to Cuba, we’ll do what’s in the national security interest of the United States.” But if the current state of the world and national security demands on the administration make addressing the relationship with Cuba one hard problem too many, what makes it not worth the effort is a purely domestic matter. For the most part, it comes down to two words: Robert Menendez. The Democratic senator from New Jersey, the powerful chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, is a key player in issues the administration sees as far more important than Cuba in a Senate evenly split along party lines. The U.S.-born son of immigrants from pre-communist Cuba, he is strongly against reopening the door to Havana.

Venezuela migrants cross US border in droves (AP) Marianela Rojas huddles in prayer with her fellow migrants, a tearful respite after trudging across a slow-flowing stretch of the Rio Grande and nearly collapsing onto someone’s backyard lawn, where, seconds before, she stepped on American soil for the first time. It’s a frequent scene across the U.S.-Mexico border at a time of swelling migration. But these aren’t farmers and low-wage workers from Mexico or Central America, who make up the bulk of those crossing. They’re bankers, doctors and engineers from Venezuela, and they’re arriving in record numbers as they flee turmoil in the country with the world’s largest oil reserves and pandemic-induced pain across South America. Last month, 7,484 Venezuelans were encountered by Border Patrol agents along the U.S.-Mexico border—more than all 14 years for which records exist. While some are government opponents fearing harassment and jailing, the vast majority are escaping long-running economic devastation marked by blackouts and shortages of food and medicine.

Peru’s election limbo (Foreign Policy) Supporters of both Pedro Castillo and Keiko Fujimori took to the streets of Peru over the weekend as the June 6 presidential election still does not have an official winner. Castillo’s apparent 44,000-vote victory has been delayed by Fujimori’s accusations of fraud in an election process that international observers, including the United States, have described as free and fair. An electoral jury charged with adjudicating contested ballots resumes its review today, with an official result only possible once the jury’s work has concluded.

Who needs hackers? (Foreign Policy) A spat between Russia and the United Kingdom over a British naval vessel’s transit near Russian-occupied Crimea took a bizarre turn over the weekend when classified documents about the operation were found in a sodden heap behind a bus stop in Kent. The documents, given to the BBC, describe the boat’s journey—which caused Russia to scramble military jets—as an “innocent passage through Ukrainian territorial waters,” and includes potential routes that would have avoided a Russian response. The British government has launched an investigation into how the documents leaked. Responding to the incident, Russian foreign ministry spokesperson Maria Zakharova mocked the British government. “Why do we need ‘Russian hackers’ if there are British bus stops?,” Zakharova said on Telegram.

The Far-Right Stumbles in France (Foreign Policy) The French far-right fared poorly in regional elections over the weekend, failing to win control of even one of France’s 18 regions and potentially denting Marine Le Pen’s chances ahead of next year’s presidential contest. Le Pen will hope that the low turnout belies greater support on the national stage. An estimated 34.5 percent of French voters cast a ballot on Sunday.

Spain, Portugal further restrict UK travelers (AP) Spain and Portugal have placed new restrictions on U.K. travelers. Portugal says they must go into quarantine for two weeks unless they have proof of full vaccination against COVID-19 finished 14 days earlier. The policy took effect Monday. The government says people can quarantine at home or in a place stipulated by Portuguese health authorities. Arrivals from Brazil, India and South Africa come under the same rule. All others entering Portugal must show either the European Union’s COVID Digital Certificate or a negative PCR test. In Spain, beginning Thursday, people arriving from the U.K. in the Balearic Islands will have to show they have been fully vaccinated against COVID-19 or have a negative PCR test.

India Shifts 50,000 Troops to China Border in Historic Move (Bloomberg) India has redirected at least 50,000 additional troops to its border with China in a historic shift toward an offensive military posture against the world’s second-biggest economy. Although the two countries battled in the Himalayas in 1962, India’s strategic focus has primarily been Pakistan since the British left the subcontinent, with the long-time rivals fighting three wars over the disputed region of Kashmir. Yet since the deadliest India-China fighting in decades last year, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s administration has sought to ease tensions with Islamabad and concentrate primarily on countering Beijing. Over the past few months, India has moved troops and fighter jet squadrons to three distinct areas along its border with China, according to four people familiar with the matter. All in all, India now has roughly 200,000 troops focused on the border, two of them said, which is an increase of more than 40% from last year. China is adding fresh runway buildings, bomb-proof bunkers to house fighter jets and new airfields along the disputed border in Tibet, two of the people said. Beijing also adding long-range artillery, tanks, rocket regiments and twin-engine fighters in the last few months.

U.S. targets Iran-backed militias in Iraq, Syria strikes (Washington Post) U.S. forces launched airstrikes on facilities on both sides of the Iraq-Syria border, the Pentagon said Sunday, in response to recent drone attacks on U.S. troops in the region carried out by Iran-backed militias. Two militia locations in Syria were attacked, along with one in Iraq, Pentagon spokesman John Kirby said in a statement, which described the strikes as defensive in nature. Officials have said militias employing small, explosive-laden drones to attack regional U.S. personnel is one of the chief concerns for the U.S. military mission there. Syrian state media said, without providing evidence, that U.S. strikes hit residential buildings near the border around 1 a.m. local time, killing one child and wounding three residents.

Palestinians protesting against Abbas (AP) Thousands of Palestinians have taken to the streets in recent days to protest against President Mahmoud Abbas and the Palestinian Authority, whose security forces and supporters have violently dispersed them. The demonstrations were sparked by the death of an outspoken critic of the PA in security forces’ custody last week, but the grievances run much deeper. Abbas’ popularity plunged after he called off the first elections in 15 years in April and was sidelined by the Gaza war in May. The PA has long been seen as rife with corruption and intolerant of dissent. Its policy of coordinating security with Israel to go after Hamas and other mutual foes is extremely unpopular. Protesters at the Al-Aqsa mosque on Friday accused the PA of being collaborators, a charge that amounts to treason.

Ethiopia declares immediate, unilateral cease-fire in Tigray (AP) Ethiopia’s government on Monday declared an immediate, unilateral cease-fire in its Tigray region after nearly eight months of deadly conflict as Tigray forces occupied the regional capital, soldiers retreated and hundreds of thousands of people continue to face the world’s worst famine crisis in a decade. The cease-fire could calm a war that has destabilized Africa’s second most populous country and threatened to do the same in the wider Horn of Africa, where Ethiopia has been seen as a key security ally for the West. The declaration was carried by state media shortly after the Tigray interim administration, appointed by the federal government, fled the regional capital, Mekele. Meanwhile, Mekele residents cheered the return of Tigray forces for the first time since Ethiopian forces took the city in late November. Ethiopia said the cease-fire will last until the end of the crucial planting season in Tigray. The season’s end comes in September.

After pandemic free-for-all, parents struggle to reinstate screen-time rules (Washington Post) The week after Rebecca Grant took away her kids’ video games for a month, after a year of relaxed pandemic rules, her 10-year-old son was livid. The ban wasn’t an easy decision for Grant. The 46-year-old mom of two from Fremont, Calif., did hours of research and read multiple books from parenting experts. She joined Facebook groups for families in similar situations and closely watched her children’s behavior, which had been worrisome for a while. “He was really not taking it well,” Grant said. “In a way, it reinforced my decision. He’s just so attached to this [video games], he’s not rational.” After 15 months of various levels of shutdowns, families in the United States are trying to come out of a tech-filled haze for summer. It’s a chance to swap out Xbox time for bike rides with friends, or Zoom school for summer camp. But parents are discovering that subtracting screen time is much harder to do than adding it. They are facing resistance from kids accustomed to their freedom or just struggling to find alternatives to fill the time before a more normal fall school semester begins. While some parents just want their kids to be social or active again, many have noticed personality and behavioral changes in their children. They’re irritable, argumentative and have poor focus. Some have become anxious or depressed, or throw more tantrums and fly into rages. “Having all that screen time all day for a whole year, their nervous system is really disregulated, and those symptoms need to be reversed,” said Victoria Dunckley, a child psychiatrist who studies the impact of screens on children and the author of “Reset Your Child’s Brain.” “All this overstimulation is putting them into a state of stress.”

#headlines #news

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kaiyonohime · 4 years ago

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Homes designed by men

In a stunning twist on ‘women written by men’, we have the Japanese model home designed by a man that has never cooked or cleaned in his life. And it should be of note here that Japan is a fairly conservative society, so it’s not uncommon for men to have never really cooked or cleaned for themselves. So this isn’t a comment about men in general, but instead a reflection on gender normes in Japanese society. As a woman who instantly couldn’t find a job when she got married, because Japanese companies don’t want to hire married women, it kinda sucks at times.

My husband takes me on a lovely walk through of a model home by Yamada Homes because he kinda wants to upgrade to a better home. I come along because, well, when two people are married and live in the same home together, they both get to go on boring hour long model home sales pitches together.

The sales guy keeps pressing that they can change any details of the home to fit ‘an American’, and I’m just like the only thing that needs to be changed is raising the doorways a little. The ceilings are a good height, and maybe the counters could be higher, but it’s not an issue. But he keeps pressing they can put in an American style bathroom and everything.

I have to, very painfully, explain to him that I prefer Japanese style baths. You shower and clean yourself first, and then you sink into the glorious tub. Japanese tubs are really deep, and they have heating coils and automated functions. You literally just put in the stopper and press a button and the bath will fill itself to the perfect fill line at the exact temperature you have set, and keep the water heated to that temperature. It’s glorious. I do not need a stupid American style tub that does none of those things.

Most of the rest of the home is just how you imagine an American style home. Walls, roof, windows. Not enough electric outlets I noticed, but I assume that’s something you can change when planning. They had a huge thing about how earthquake safe the home was, which was kinda cool, and they had the latest technology to start making the rounds on the Japanese home building market: insulation! Not even joking, that’s a really new tech for homes here in Japan. Central air still hasn’t made its way over yet, unfortunately. So yes, you frequently wake up seeing your breath in the morning before you manually turn on the heater/air con unit, and that only heats/cools a single room. Kinda sucks.

But the thing that stood out, the shining piece of the home that the sales guy tried to sell me on: the kitchen. Designed by a person that had never cooked or cleaned in his life. How do I know this? No fucking electric outlets at all. Of any kind. There’s a giant cooking island with a giant sink, all in white of course, and zero electric. I asked if that could be changed, and the sales guy literally didn’t know why I would want an electric outlet in the kitchen at all. Yeah, I can beat a souffle into obedience by hand, but I’d rather just use the electric beaters. He did stress that the tv could be visible from the kitchen though, because any person cooking in that kitchen would be there for hours doing everything by hand.

All of the counters, and sink, were white molded plastic as well. Get a drop of chili oil anywhere in that kitchen and it’s stained for life. Sales guy couldn’t understand when I asked if it could be done in ceramic or marble instead, because I’d much rather not spend the rest of my life glaring at every piece of dirt that stained that surface. He laughed about odd American styles. I glared and commented about common sense.

Most of the lighting was also either recessed or that stupid ceiling lighting that’s a ledge, which is a pain in the ass to dust and clean. Every room had it, and while it looks nifty, it needs a ladder. As do all of the hanging lights.

All in all, it was a pretty home that you can’t have food in without staining everything, no real electric outlets, and a complete lack of common sense by anyone that had ever cooked, cleaned, or lived in a home before.

My husband didn’t notice the issue with electric outlets or plastic counter tops and sink. He was admiring the floor that was made of molded recycled paper. The floor was kinda cool, it should be of note carpet is unheard of in Japanese homes, but recycled paper floors aren’t going to save me from throwing an egg beater out a window when I can’t make a souffle.

#homes designed by men #plastic counter tops stain #more electric outlets

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southeastasianists · 5 years ago

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The deep horn aboard the Binaiya rumbles as a nearby ship worker shouts, “Hurry on, we leave in 30 minutes.”

Amid the intense heat and humidity, what appears to be a sea of people squeezes through narrow gates. Above their heads, cardboard boxes of uncommon shapes crowd surf their way up to the front as the many uniformed guards stamp available arms, ensuring a steady flow. The mass moves towards the ship like a well-oiled machine of chaos. Where exactly is everyone going?

Indonesia is the world’s largest island nation, an archipelago consisting of more than 17,000 officially registered islands. While the vast majority of the 264 million people that call this country home are spread across just two of these, Java and Sumatra, many live scattered among over 6,000 other islands.

After over three centuries of Dutch colonization, and a few years of Japanese occupation, Indonesia proclaimed its independence in 1945. President Suharto’s new regime, centralized in Java, had to unify thousands of islands that had long differed in cultural customs, religions, and political structures.

In an effort to consolidate power across the archipelago, the newly formed government attempted to nationalize KPM, a Dutch-owned shipping company that dominated inter-island travel. Following a Dutch refusal to cooperate, the Indonesian government set up the Pelayaran Nasional Indonesia (Indonesian National Shipping), or PELNI for short, to regain control over their seas. With a combination of ships looted from Japan in WWII and ships rented from elsewhere, PELNI quickly emerged as the winner in this short skirmish for logistical dominion. By the end of 1957, KPM discontinued its operations in Indonesia entirely.

In an era predating affordable and convenient air-transport, PELNI became the lifeblood of local travel in Indonesia, connecting passengers and cargo to each corner of the newly united archipelago. In recent years, the company's importance in the larger, more populated islands has dwindled. But, to many of the smaller and less developed islands, primarily further east, the 26 ships still functioning are absolutely vital. They stop at places where air travel has remained an impracticality and crops are less easily grown.

Binaiya is a fairly standard model in the fleet. It officially sleeps 960 passengers, though a number closer to 1,500 is not uncommon. On the upper decks, there are a few private cabins that sleep two or four. However, the vast majority of passengers sleep in rooms of up to 200 in the massive dormitory decks.

Though routes of these boats are infamously prone to change, Binaiya regularly travels between five major islands: Bali, Sumbawa, Flores, Sulawesi, and Borneo. Dormitory tickets for the 30-hour Bali-to-Flores leg cost $15 and include six meals.

Soon after leaving the port, Binaiya takes on a life of its own. Many of the kids on board rush to the upper deck, where strong winds drown out their excited chatter. In the shaded regions, large groups circle around decks of cards. Cigarettes are passed around and, in between the small meals, copious amounts of Indomie (Indonesia’s most popular Instant Noodle) are devoured.

Every leg of a PELNI journey has its own clientele. On boats leaving from Bali, migrant workers looking to capitalize off of the tourism craze might be the most common. For young Indonesians from islands such as Flores, Sulawesi, and Sumbawa, the booming tourism industry in Bali offers stable job opportunities in hospitality and transport.

William, a local passenger, is from the Manggarai province in Flores. The population of his home town, Golocala, is roughly 1,000. Many of the people here, his family included, spend their days farming the region's main crops: coffee and rice. Curious about the opportunities offered on some of the other islands, William boarded his first PELNI six years ago. A little less than two days later, he landed in his new home, Bali. After some time wandering around the island, William found work as a manager for a pair of small villas in Uluwatu, a popular surf town for tourists.

Generally, William returns home via PELNI once or twice a year. "Almost all of the people I know are using it because it is very cheap," he says. On this particular trip, he is off to see his newborn baby for the first time. His wife, who also moved to Bali to find work in the tourism industry, had moved home just a month earlier to prepare for the birth of their child. “In Bali, having our baby in a hospital will be maybe seven or eight times more expensive than in my province,” William says.

Eventually, William and his wife plan to move back home to set up a small shop with the money they have saved in Bali. Growing up with nine siblings in a village of fewer than 1,000 people, there is a sense of community ingrained in him. “When I first left,” William says, “all I wanted was to experience different kinds of life. Now, I mostly just want to be with my family again, to feel at home.” His mind momentarily drifts before rejoining the conversation once again. “In my family, only me and one of my sisters left Golocala. But, on this boat, there are many people from Manggarai, just like us, who can’t wait to be living at home again.” Until then, the cheap price of PELNI allows William, and many others, to travel home a few times a year, for a fraction of the cost of an airline ticket.

After nearly 24 hours floating across the calm of the Bali Sea, we dock in Bima, the largest city in Sumbawa. The docking process is always a spectacle.

From the moment the gates open, food vendors rush aboard, racing to their chosen spot on the deck. All too aware of the less-than-ideal meals served on the boat, locals come laden with local delights like nasi campur and ayam goreng, as well as popular sweets such as dadar and wajik.

On the ground level, hundreds of family members line the docks eagerly awaiting the return of their loved ones as other families begin their goodbyes. Beside the boat, trucks full of corn, onion, and garlic, the main exports of Bima, load tons of products abroad. These shipments will be gratefully received by various islands less able to grow their own.

At this particular port, far more passengers get on than those who leave. An already over-capacity ship sees its hallways nearly overflow. After a couple of hours, the deep horn of Binaiya rumbles once again and the many vendors scatter back ashore. Before long, Binaiya is on the move, with Flores a mere six hours away.

Once commanding a fleet of over 50 vessels, PELNI is no longer as popular as it once was. As the nation experiences a continuous rise in affordable air travel, shipping routes available to the public will decrease. Unfortunately, for an archipelago so large, modernization occurs at very different speeds. So, while some larger islands are losing the need for these boats, many smaller islands have come to rely on them more than ever.

On the Eastern end of the archipelago, where lands are often less fertile, mass shipments of rice, onions, corn, and other basic foods are critical. Each time a route closes, these islands face less-regular shipments and added obstacles for leaving and returning home. Thankfully, a restructuring of the ticketing system and improvements to customer experience has led to an increase in low-budget local passengers, like William, over the last five years. After nearly two decades of declining popularity, PELNI seems to be turning a corner.

For millions of Indonesians, this means that dreams of better job opportunities and new homes are still on the horizon. For William, his goal is to ultimately return home. He will once again take a rather long boat ride.

#Southeast Asia #Indonesia

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jacks-tracks · 5 years ago

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Bantayan Biker

Bantayan is a big island, fairly flat, with good cement roads. I’d met a local who drove me about town, and he rents motorcycles. I don’t have a phone, but a nice expat couple waiting for the beauty salon next to my room called him and in rapid fire Tagalog had him deliver a motorcycle in minutes . Another honda 125 automatic in an embarrassing shade of pink, but everything worked. I put in 100pesos of gas and hit the road. Lovely sunny day, dressed in long pants and helmet, I even had my international drivers licence. Water, snacks good to go!

Just out of town I saw a big red sign “Evacuation assembly point” with an arrow pointing into the big graveyard. I kept going, thinking it was probably a dead end. Most of the traffic was motorcycles, a few trucks, one bus, and a handfull of cars, all dawdling along. The mototbike taxis(3 wheelers with a sidecar) were the worst, poking along, often with huge loads, like rebar, hay, lumber, or in one case 10 people. Granted they were little school kids, but it was full! I wanted to see what the bike would do so on an open stretch I twisted the grips and zoomed up to 40 kph(wow),passing the pokeys. As always , it’s the sideroads that have the most appeal, so I took the first left towards the sea. Roadworks, cement slush in loose frames alternated with rocky potholes. Used to that from home, I know that the best ride is right on the edge where trucks have not eroded the surface. There were lots of little houses, most with flowers growing in pots and old oil cans, a few walkers, sleeping dogs, (why do dogs sleep in the road?) and after 10 minutes downhill the sea. Coconut groves, clusters of houses with signs proclaiming a village, scrub jungle, and an empty smooth cement track, Easy riding indeed. I went to a beach where the fishermen had a hundred boats hauled out on logs(to protect their propellors). Some were mending nets in the shade of the boats tarpaulins, most were resting in little hammocks slung beside their beachfront bamboo homes. Fishing here is mostly at night, using battery powered lamps or coleman lanterns to attract fish to the gill nets . The beach was typical, a low sand bank, then a long flat rock bottomed foreshore, often 100 meters before the low tide waters edge. Boats only beach at high tide onto their coconut log rollers. It was hot already, perhaps 30 degrees, but a sea breeze swept the heat inland and the tall palms swayed lazily . I drove slowly, seeing lots of flowers, more sleeping dogs, and the occasional locals, who all responded to my Hellos. People are reserved until I make that first move, then everybody is friendly. English is limited, but I smiled when a toothless old gaffer told me to have a nice day.

Some 10 miles along was the Mangrove walk. A business with bamboo pole walkways out into the mangroves for tourists. I’m just glad to see some mangrove intact. I kept going. There were power lines on cement poles, so houses had electricity, which must make food storage much easier. The usual shoebox stores, selling the usual tiny packages of junk food. One roadside palapa was labelled “Senior citizens Hall” and had a big poster congratulating a woman for being 100. Her picture was posted and she looked all of that. The “Hall was a 10 by 30 foot thatch roofed building made of vertical poles, so had lots of ventilation. Benches inside, no seniors. I enjoyed tooling along the shady road, which eventually lead back to the main road. I got stuck behind the beer truck doing home deliverys, but parked in the shade until the householder came for his case. The shade was from a bush covered in tiny red blossoms, which fell to cover the road.

Back on the “highway, “I soon came to the capitol city, all 6 blocks of it. The center of town was a parklike square block and I paused there to drink water on a shady bench. It’s a feature of our modern age that while once the people in the park would have walked about meeting friends and gossiping on the benches, today everyone is glued to their cell phones, oblivious to the world around them. Having no phone I walked over to admire the central statue, a frock coated man who was pointing either to the future or to the road out of town. I took that road, and could not resist going down a road called “Kabangbang” Sure enough the pavement gave out, coral gravel slushed around my tires, and after a 10 minute uphill climb I settled for a view of the small farm inland hills. I kabanged back to the main road, caught another beachward side road, and found what was probably the original track along the seashore. Many more little houses, clustered in villages, all with elementary schools, crammed with hundreds of kids. When i saw an access to the beach I motored down and parked. A grizzled old timer, maybe as old as me, engaged me in broken conversation about fishing.lots of boats, few fish, crabs were the coming thing, were there fish boats in Canada, really I had been a fishing guide, and was it all big boats now? Being old bums we rested in the shade dreaming of the glorious past. He moved on to yap with another old fart, and I ate my leftover pizza. All this driving (4hours )had been enough and I puttered back to the capitol for a cold drink and a bakery load. As the sun sank low, I cruised home, returned my bike, and felt I’d had a good day.

Bantayan island had some of the nicest sand beaches I’d found, a slow pace, decent food, and a pleasant ambience. Nothing to do but beach walk, swim and eat. My main plan fulfilled! I stayed 3 days, and moved on well satisfied.

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furnacerepairlongisland-blog · 6 years ago

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Furnace Repair Long Island

Oil burner service in long island that dramatically reduce emissions

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dailymotion

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The heating repair in long island solution will assure you remain in the existence of a safe and secure and safe heating/hot water system. Your oil boiler will certainly be far much less more than likely to develop any unfavorable problems if it's regularly serviced.

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austinonymous · 6 years ago

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Steampunk Snippet

A bit of a deviation from my usual stuff, this is an excerpt from a longer story I was writing and never finished. Set in an alternate world at the end of its age of steam-powered technology and moving onwards towards modern tech, it follows the main character, Jeannot, and his sister as they arrive at the Isles as members of the crew of a Greatship. There he meets the son of the noble in charge of the Isles, Bastiaan.

This snippet is from shortly after they meet and Bastiaan takes him to the Royal Botanical Gardens to talk without his parents and their staff around.

I only lightly edited it from its first draft so beware, mistakes may lie ahead.

I hope you all enjoy it!

Bastiaan sighed, a smile on his face as he leaned his head back and looked at the glass ceiling of the hall, up to the sun far above them. Jean twitched a bit, unsure of how to act around the Archduke’s son. He knew he had essentially agreed to sit here when he hadn’t resisted much when he was dragged off by the other boy- how could he?

In hindsight however, he wasn’t sure this was the best idea. The nobility had a tendency to be quite stuck up and haughty, and Jean wasn’t sure he wanted to do something and unknowingly insult someone like that. Nor deal with their bull either in all honesty. Jean’s thoughts were quickly brought to a halt as Bastiaan looked over at him.

“What is it like Jeannot? To be on the sea and to feel the rock of the ship under your feet with the cool breeze caressing your heated brow?” The Earl said with a sigh. “I wish I could be out on the water more. To travel on a Greatship must be exhilarating!”

Jeannot shrugged a bit, biting his lip for a moment before answering, “Greatships don’t really rock; they’re too large to do that unless it was the worst of conditions. They’re also very hot on the inside due to the steam- but you’re right that the breeze is quite welcome,” he agreed; the upper decks were the favorite place for him and his fellow monkey wrenches to hide.

He continued onwards with his comment, “Then again sir, it might be a bit dingy for nobility like yourself. Maintenance is an absolute chore, you know, and even with a full staff we’d have difficulty keeping it clean,” Jean continued.

Bastiaan laughed, “Nonsense! It’s not like I’m nobility, I’m as much a commoner as you.” At Jean’s surprise, the young man quickly elaborated. “My father is the Duke of Vaans and the Earl of Gless. However, as I own neither land nor title I am no noble. I am only allowed to use the title by courtesy.”

Jeannot was a bit surprised by both the new knowledge of how the noble system worked in the Isles but also by the lack of frustration or indignation in Bastian’s voice. Perhaps it was just his bias after seeing the nobles of his home country, but he expected some resentment from the Earl.

As the conversation lulled into temporary, but comfortable, silence Jean looked around him. The Earl had dragged him to the Royal Botanical Gardens, which lived up to the impressive name. The central hall, arcing ever upwards, was massive! It had to be at least three or four levels high, with great creeping vines and trees penetrating the balconies that made up the upper levels. Exotic plants from across the islands filled the room with a scent that was nigh overwhelming at first exposure, especially for someone like Jean who was just used to the smell of ash and oil.

Come to think of it, when he was brought in, Bastiaan had led him to a bench in the middle of the hall quickly as if knowing he’d be overwhelmed by the stimulus. It certainly explained the floral tones surrounding the boy if he was used to this; Jean couldn’t imagine the amount of the time he must spend here to get that scent stuck to him!

Given how close the gardens were to the manor though, Jean in hindsight wasn’t honestly too surprised. It was a nice place to hang out- on the whole, the building was pleasant, despite the massive amount of sunlight that was required to let the plants grow. It warmed the entire place up almost as bad as the great metal hull of the Greatship. When he mentioned his observation to the Earl, Bastiaan’s eyes lit up.

“Its absolutely marvelous isn’t it! They use spring water to cool down the air- running the pipes through the natural spring this place was built over, of course,” Bastiaan said excitedly, “They use great billows to suck in the air and circulate it. This is one of the few buildings in the gardens that get that system but it’s a wondrous coolant for a wondrous environment!”

Jean was a bit astounded by the elaborate system in place to keep simple plants cool. The value they must hold for these plants for such an extensive system to be installed, “Are these rare plants? It seems like an expensive system for something as simple as a plant.”

The Earl shook his head, “No no, these aren’t that rare. Very few places have them in the same area, admittedly, but individually they aren’t. But that’s the wonder of this place, if you want my humble opinion on the matter.”

Jean looked at Bastiaan curiously, shifting a bit in his spot on the bench. He lived in a place of steel. He wasn’t around things like this to see whatever hidden beauty that the Earl had found. The dark-haired boy brightened as Jean sat up a bit straighter, seemingly excited to share his revelation.

“Its like humans Jeannot- We are reflected in these plants. Some are humble shoots, others are brightly colored and delicate, yet they are all plants. Individually they are not much to look at; but humanity, like these plants, can do absolutely wondrous things together,” He said finishing.

Jeannot looked at Bastiaan with wide eyes, having been caught off-guard by the sudden change in topic from plants to people. Perhaps it was just what naturally happened when you were holed up amongst the flowering shoots for so long, “I didn’t fancy you a philosopher.” A little red appeared on the other boy’s cheeks as he sheepishly grinned.

“You learn to do that when you’re alone in a place like this. It’s one of the few places where I could get some peace from the hustle and bustle of noble life.” Bastiaan said with a sigh, “Plus learning to become a ruler of the people sometimes draws out parallels and ideas in my head I hadn’t even considered till let alone to myself. It is good to take a moment to collect yourself after a long day getting stuffed full of useless manners and information.”

Jean frowned and brushed his blond locks out of his face, a bit confused, “You sound unhappy about that, like becoming a ruler is a bad thing.” The Earl’s head was leaning back again as if this was something he’d argued with himself many times.

Bastiaan let out a sigh, “Frankly it isn’t. You get a large manor with a stable income and servants for your every whim. Life couldn’t be simpler,” He said, sarcastically to himself.

Jean didn’t speak up. The other boy obviously was frustrated with someone who told him he should have it easy.

“It should be! I’m pampered compared to many! But,” he ran a hand through his hair, “You’re a Fulcian correct?” Jean nodded though he made it clear he hadn’t seen his homeland in years. Bastiaan waved it aside.

“I was engaged to the princess of the Fulcian throne when we were both young, too young to really know what that meant or even care. But because of that whole contract, which was never broken, I could be considered to have been next-in-line to the throne after the princess as the King had no other children. Even if indirectly, I hold claim to the throne that your Emperor took from her in his coup de’tat.” Bastiaan rubbed his head, “I worry we will be invaded to eliminate me.”

Jean’s head shot up as he stared wide-eyed at the young nobleman, “That’d never happen-!”

“Jeannot! It very well could! I could be seen as a rallying point for other monarchies who are desperate to stop the Fulcian expansion. It would make sense for the Emperor to kill me to secure a strategic and political victory.”

Jean wasn’t sure what to say. He certainly hadn’t expected to see the Earl so vulnerable so quickly. It wasn’t too hard to do, but Jean correctly guessed Bastiaan hadn’t spoken about this with nearly anyone and thus wasn’t sure how to react.

Thankfully, to his relief, Bastiaan pulled himself from his temporary hysteria on his own and with far more dignity and self-control than Jean could ever muster, “I’m sorry, that was out of line. It’s not even so much that I fear for my own life. I fear for the people. Wars are messy, but no one here would even think of giving me up to them to stop an attack. They would fight till the city burned and none were left to defend it.”

It was a melancholy mood that descended over the two as they sat there. Now, the garden’s wonder seemed all the more fragile, and all the more an indicator of how much could be lost to the world if Bastiaan’s fear rang true.

#my fic #myficlet #My writing #My Story #steampunk #my work #original story #drew inspiration from Leviathan

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