#Robert Knapp

[kwebtv]

From the Golden Age of Television

Season 1 Episode 10

Boots and Saddles - Quiet Day at Fort Lowell - Syndication - November 21, 1957

Western

Running Time: 30 minutes

Written by Tony Barrett

Produced by George M. Cahan and Robert Stillman

Directed by Bernard L. Kowalski

Stars:

Jack Pickard  as Captain Shank Adams

David Willock as Lt. Binning

Michael Emmett as Corporal Davis

Michael Hinn as Luke Cummings

House Peters Jr. as Sgt Johnson

Harry Harvey Jr as Johnny Wells

Robert Knapp as Vincent Russo

Joe Breen as Frank Bell

Boyd "Red" Morgan as Trooper

Al Wyatt as Trooper

Fred Krone as Trooper

Earl Parker as Trooper

[evilcentral]

katjaherbers: Pics so good they deserve to be on main 🤍 BTS but from the all seeing eye and artistry of @fishstills

[fearsmagazine]

DOWN BELOW - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Gravitas Ventures

SYNOPSIS: On the 20th anniversary of a horrific Christmas Eve massacre at St. Agnes Church, a malevolent preacher from the past reappears to haunt the residents of the same town. Among them is Salem, a young man whose once-joyful life is unraveling as he's falsely accused of a heinous crime. Only a disillusioned call-girl named Alexis Knapp, plagued by her own nightmares, believes in Salem's innocence. Together and individually, they must confront their inner demons and a tangible one known as Mr. Monday.

REVIEW: In Filmmaker Spyder Dobrofsky's "DOWN BELOW," the protagonist, Salem, embarks on a peculiar and intricate journey to reclaim his life, which has been shrouded in an enigmatic reality for nearly two decades. His quest to unravel the impact of the enigmatic Mr. Monday on his life unfolds as a perplexing tale, often feeling unnecessarily convoluted.

The film's 99-minute duration felt pointless, given its anticlimactic conclusion. The characters appeared to wander aimlessly without a clear sense of purpose. The confusing plot twists and turns seemed intentionally disorienting, perhaps aiming to establish a surreal universe similar to David Lynch's films, but falling short of that mark. To be candid, I found the movie to be much ado about nothing, leading to frequent boredom. The simplistic revelation at the end left me feeling aggravated, having wasted my time.

The film's peculiar narrative gives rise to some overtly puzzling performances. The talented cast portrays characters that seem lifted from various stories and dropped into this oblique tale. Doug Jones appears without prosthetic makeup, offering a refreshing change. Eric Roberts delivers a compelling performance, though his character's purpose remains unclear. Bai Ling tones down her recent film performances, focusing on her acting chops. David Steen, a Tarantino veteran, creates the villain and catalyst for Salem's troubles, Mr. Monday. While Steen's performance is solid, the character lacks depth and remains superficial, depriving the viewer of any tangible understanding or insight into the villain.

The film's cinematography and framing are a blend of functional and uninspired aesthetics. The overuse of smoke diffusion in lighting feels arbitrary, although the filmmaker's intent is understandable. Ambrose Soehn's score often overwhelms the dialogue, featuring clichéd movements and moments that feel like music for music’s sake.

In DOWN BELOW, the filmmaker's ambition to add complexity to an essentially simple story seems forced and unnecessary. While the film's production design elements hint at a horror genre classification, it fails to fully embrace this potential. The result is a plodding, slow-paced movie featuring recognizable actors in bizarre roles. This film resembles the type of independent horror movie that would have been submitted to festivals in the late 1990s or early 2000s.

CAST: Eric Roberts, Doug Jones, Alexis Knapp, Bai Ling, Hutch Dano, Diane Robin, Greg Kriek, Erin Matthews, David Steen, Christopher Livingston, Brittany Carel, Luke Mullen, Anna Greene, William Ford, David Steen, and Spyder Dobrofsky. CREW: Director/Screenplay/Cinematography - Spyder Dobrofsky; Producers - Dash Dobrofsky; Score - Ambrose Soehn; Editor - Joshua Ling Hei Wong; Costume Designer - Izzy Fran; Visual Effects Services - High Stake Entertainment OFFICIAL: N.A. FACEBOOK: N.A. TWITTER: N.A. TRAILER: https://youtu.be/FQZmyS7IUa8?si=X_yLc-bydC-kbPaY RELEASE DATE: On digital & VOD Oct. 1st, 2024.

**Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay), or 👎 (Dislike)

Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[gameofthunder66]

Evil (2019-2024) tv series

-(started) watchin' Season 1- 9/4/2024- on Paramount+

96% Rotten Tomatoes

[moviesandmania]

DOWN BELOW Demonic horror - trailer and release date

Down Below is a 2024 horror film about gruesome Christmas Eve murders at St. Agnes church. Twenty years after the killings, a demonic preacher returns to haunt that same town’s residents. Written and directed by Spyder Dobrofsky (Spiral, 2019, writer of Teardrop, 2022). It was produced by Dash Dobrofsky and executive-produced by Alexis Knapp and Christopher Livingston. The High Stake…

[dustedmagazine]

Listed: Magic Tuber String Band

Photo by Kristin Karch

The core of the Magic Tuber String Band consists of Courtney Werner on fiddle, Evan Morgan on guitar and banjo and both on occasional vocals and other acoustic instruments. Their approach involves combining traditional Appalachian instrumentation with the experimentalism of composers such as Henry Flynt, Harry Parch, and Pauline Oliveros. Field recordings and drones add texture to many of their tracks, and Werner and Morgan as well as their collaborators are formidable players. The arrangements are complex but not cluttered, with tunes often veering in unexpected directions. In his review for Dusted, Jim Marks described the band’s latest, Needlefall, as “the most satisfying in a five-year run of outstanding albums.”

Evan Morgan

Alan Clarke — Penda's Fen

I found out about this film (made for a BBC anthology series) from Rob Young’s book on British folk, Electric Eden. It is one of those immediately captivating films, almost perfectly made (and visually reminiscent of Tarkovsky's Nostalghia at times). The whole film builds towards a view of folk tradition and local history as an antidote to reactionary nationalism, all within the space of a coming-of-age story. We watched this for the first time recently and coincidentally were just asked to play before a screening of the film in Brattleboro this coming August for Epsilon Spires.

Alice Rohrwacher — La chimera

Alice Rohrwacher is really homing in on a kind of filmmaking that is related to the dialects of those films from the past we now think of as great films — but it is also something entirely her own. It's patient but also immediately spellbinding which feels like a rare quality these days. La chimera picks up the theme of a modern relationship to old ways that points towards communal culture as a way out of an increasingly privatized world. But it is also a lot more than that. It's both an obvious folktale and a dense dream. Would make a great double feature with Penda's Fen.

Mario Vargas Llosa — The War of the End of the World

I was completely blown away by this novel. I found it at a used bookstore last summer and waited until December to pick it up because of its intimidating length. It is an onslaught of character portraits, nearly everyone vividly rendered and memorable despite the book’s length and the pace of events, time rolling back, jumping ahead, and standing still. The story of the War of Canudos, one of a heavily armed state attacking the most disenfranchised members of its land in the name of democracy, makes TWOTEOTW a very timely read.

Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band — Dancing on the Edge

Easily my most listened to record of 2023 and still on heavy rotation on into 2024. We got to see Ryan & the Roadhouse Band play this material live in Athens a few weeks ago which was absolutely transcendent.

John Francis Flynn — Look Over the Wall, See the Sky

We have been living in Augusta, GA since December of last year and there’s something about this record that really clicks with the architecture and layout of the city. I go for walks with my dog every day on a trail that runs between the canal and the Savannah river. To the south, the trail leads towards a long-abandoned, late 19th-century textile mill; to the north, past the hidden ruins of an old fish camp squat and the (often) roaring stone headgates. This record builds a sense of place and that place is intended to be Dublin. But its transposable nature hints at a deep connection between certain places that have not entirely lost visible monuments to their past industry and daily life. I especially like the version on here of Ewan MacColl's “Dirty Old Town.”

Courtney Werner

Chaz Knapp and Mariel Roberts — Setting Fire to These Dark Times

Chaz Knapp invited me to improvise with him throughout the Ozarks in 2022 using fiddle, dulcimer, voice, tape loops and natural sounds. I’m inspired by his attention to space and the sound of landscapes. He and cellist Mariel Roberts released this incredible album in 2023.

Tatiana Hargreaves — Soledad

I saw Tatiana perform the Soledad compositions at a residency in Durham, NC in 2018 and it was one of the most influential live music experiences of my life. They blend elements of old-time and contemporary classical styles with extended techniques to create captivating solo fiddle pieces that inspired me to want to compose myself.

Rafael Toral — Spectral Evolution

One of my favorite albums of this year so far.

Zoh Amba — Bhakti

An incredible record full of life and heart.

Evan Parker — Evan Parker with Birds

One of my favorite examples of pushing an instrument to be an animal, and duetting with natural sounds.

[letterboxd-loggd]

Slightly Married (1932) Richard Thorpe

May 21st 2023

[bookola-de]

Kajetan kann einem schon leid tun. Denn vor dem Auftauchen von Alma und ihrem Hund Grimm hatte Kajetan keine Ahnung davon, dass Wesen aus Büchern wirklich und wahrhaftig existieren.

[winniemaywebber]

There's No Place Like Home

It's 1949. Mr and Mrs James Douglass have been married for two years, living in a beautiful little house that's backed by an apple orchard. Olive works at the local department store, Knapp’s, where her only highlights of the day are kissing her husband goodbye as he takes her to work, and kissing him hello again as he picks her up to take her home.

Knapp’s Department Store; the end of a long day for Olive Douglass. Between being poked at for her accent, working through her lunch hour and a snooty lady yelling at her before clocking out time, Olive is more than ready to return home to her husband, who at this very moment, is driving home through Downtown Lansing, the top down on the car. He is on his way to pick up his wife, who currently feels like the grumpiest lady in the whole of Michigan.

“Goodnight, Olive!” she hears, looking over her shoulder as she lights a cigarette. She sees Kelly and Molly, two pinch faced, stuck up sisters whose voices are so shrill that it made Olive recoil and cringe. “See you on Monday!”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, trying to force a smile.

“Goodnight, your Majesty,” Molly murmurs, an awful British accent being used in her horrific high tone.

“Molly!” Kelly scolds, ushering her away. “She's a nice girl, leave her be.”

With a roll of her eyes, Olive stands and smokes, thinking of what her best friend, Valencia Blakely, would say to the pair of them. Olive is sure the comebacks would be wordless, the furrow upon Val's brow being enough to scare them off. As she stubs out her cigarette, she sees her husband coming to a stop in front of her. He sees her scowl before he even approaches her.

“Now, what's this?” he asks, turning off the engine and walking up to where she's standing. “Who's upset my wife?”

“Oh, just a couple of catty assholes.”

“Let me at ‘em,” he says, his voice a little gravelly. He tips her chin so her lips meet his and she melts into him instantly. “Let's get you home.”

“Yes, please,” she replies, just wanting to rot in bed for a little while until dinner. “I need a lie down.”

“Oh, of course. Not for long though, I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” she squeals, clutching his hand as he starts the car. He puts it to his lips, kissing her hand gently three times as he nods, his eyes twinkling in the delight of the secret he holds within him.

—

The second she steps out of the car, she feels at peace. Olive had never felt at home anywhere before taking a tumble into a whole other era, landing right in the middle of a war, winding herself on the hardstand of Thorpe Abbotts Air Base. It was the people she met that had made it a home for her: her best friends, Val and Helen. Dougie’s best friend and Val's husband, Everett Blakely, a brother to Olive alongside Bernard Demarco, Robert Rosenthal, Harry Crosby and John Brady, Olive now best friends with all of their sweethearts. It was the kind of life she'd always dreamt of and the cherry on top of the cake was meeting James Douglass, marrying him just a few years after the war had ended.

“Our new home,” Dougie had said as he carried her over the threshold, opening the bright red door for her to welcome her inside. It was dainty, small, yet the most perfect house Olive had ever seen. He had taken her through every room, Olive totally blown away by how he'd painstakingly chosen the perfect colors for each wall without needing any guidance. The dining table he and Ev had made together, and the sweet accessories Val had added to each piece of furniture. This home had a little part of everyone in it - pictures from Thorpe Abbotts, the whole gang at their first Independence Day barbecue hosted by the Bradys, Val and Olive together on their wedding days - and that's why Olive adored it so much.

As she walks into the kitchen, she is greeted by a fresh, floral smell from the aforementioned dining table. There, sits Grandma Pearl's green vase, filled to bursting with pink and white peonies.

“Saw these when I walked to the diner for lunch,” Dougie says shyly. “I know you love peonies at this time of year.”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered, silly. The second I saw them, I thought of you.”

“You're so sweet, honey,” she smiles, walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his nose landing in her neck like it always does, making her giggle a little as his mustache tickles at her.

“What do you want for dinner, darling?”

“Oh, right!” He says, suddenly remembering his little secret. “I'm taking you out. Reservation is at 8.30, so you've got time for a short nap before we need to get ready, okay?”

“Okay…” Olive says, a grin spanning from ear to ear. She takes his hand, her thumb stroking over his palm gently. “Will you come snuggle?”

“Honey, if I ever say no to that…”

—

She wakes a little while later to her husband kissing her neck gently to rouse her. She purrs as he carries on, his hands slowly stroking and tickling her bare back.

“Come on, honey. We gotta wake up.”

“But I'm so cozy,” she protests, turning over and snuggling into him.

“Oh, you're adorable, Ollie,” he coos, letting her cuddle in for just a few more minutes before pulling away, kissing her temple. “Come on, I wanna take you out. Cheer you up after your bad day, hm?”

“Okay,” she sighs. “It'll be a good way to distract myself away from the thoughts of Monday creeping closer, I guess.”

“Tell me what happened, sugar.”

“Ugh, this horrible woman. She wanted to return a hat that she said she no longer wanted. Okay, I said, no problem. May I have your receipt?”

“And?” Dougie probes, gently running his fingers through Olive’s dark hair, staring into her big brown eyes as she tells her tale.

“She hands me it, tutting. Fucking tutting at me as if I'm inconveniencing her. So, I look it over…hm, that's nice, honey…” she trails off, snuggling back into Dougie once again.

“Sorry, sorry. You look it over?”

“Hmm…” she sighs. “Yes, and the item is three days over the return deadline. So, I say, ma'am, store policy dictates thirty days from purchase to make a return, and you're at day thirty-three. I'm happy to exchange it for you. Lord, she hit the roof. Yelling at me, calling me rude, useless, what have you. I ended up having to call for someone upstairs to explain it to her, because she would not listen to me, nor would she quit yelling. It was humiliating, honestly.”

“Ollie, that's horrible. You shouldn't have to deal with that!”

“I could absolutely see myself going Valencia Blakely on her rude self. Fighting that temptation was hard.”

“We have money for bail, it's fine. I'd come rescue you.”

“You would?”

“Oh, always, honey. I'm always on your side.” He pauses for a second, having Olive lay on his shoulder. “You could just quit, and stay home, huh?”

“No!” she says. “I like the independence. I like being able to contribute, even if it's only a little.”

“I've got it!” he replies, the pair of them bullheaded as ever. “I promised to look after you. Let me?”

“B-but…”

“You'd still be independent. Are you telling me you'd rather go to work in that stuffy, old department store over sitting in the backyard, reading a book and sipping coffee?”

“Well, when you put it like that…” she shrugs, the stubbornness wearing off.

“Exactly. You've been so tired, Ol. Let me take care of you. Please?”

“Oh, my sweet husband. If you're sure?”

“Without a doubt,” he says softly, kissing her for a few moments. “Now, come on, sweetheart. I don't wanna be late.”

“Late for what?”

“You'll see.”

—

“Dougie!” Olive protests, him covering her eyes as he leads her through what feels like a long corridor. He had instructed her to close her eyes the moment they'd turned the corner on to Main Street, him covering her eyes with both of his hands as he'd helped her out of the car.

“Is this really necessary?” she'd asked, hands out in front of her to feel for anything she may bump into.

“Yes!” he had giggled, making sure her eyes really were shut before opening a door for her. “I've got you, sugar. Trust me.”

The smell of sweet popcorn lingers in her nostrils as another door opens, Olive giggling to herself that she's figured out the location by smell alone.

“Okay, we're at the movies. Got that part. Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Nope,” he says matter of factly, leading her to a seat. “Not until it starts.”

“James Douglass, you are–”

“Insufferable, I know. And yet, you love me.”

“I sure do, sweetheart. But I am impatient and this is doing nothing for my nervous system.”

He laughs, grabbing her hand and kissing it. Olive feels his smile on her hand and smiles back, knowing how silly that must look with her eyes closed. She feels the room growing darker, her vision now pitch black.

“Okay,” he breathes, clutching her hand a little tighter. “Now you can open them.”

“Finally,” she whispers, eyes focused on the large screen in front of them as she hears the projector click on. A sepia tone blasts on to the screen, with the familiar overture that Olive spent countless days listening to over and over, followed by the title: The Wizard of Oz.

“James!” she cries, leaning over to hold him. She stares at him open mouthed, back to the screen and then back to him, not sure where to look.

“You told me it was your favorite, right after I came back from Bremen. Do you remember that?”

“Y-yes,” she stammers out, her eyes filling with tears. “I do…”

—

“I just wanna know everything about you,” Dougie had whispered as they laid in Olive’s small bunk together, the morning sun leaking in through the thin curtains of the Red Cross hut. “Everything.”

“I wouldn't know where to start,” Olive laughed, closing her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. “It's a lot.”

“Well,” he sighed. “Let's start with the basic stuff. Favorite food?”

“Italian. A good penne alla vodka can cure any bad mood.”

“Ah, explains why you instantly stuck to Val and Benny. You want the recipes from the source!”

“Too right,” she giggles, nuzzling into him. “What about you?”

“Whatever my mom cooks. It's always so homey, warm…” he trails off, his eyes closing as he breathes in deeply. “Sorry,” he says, shaking his head.

“What for?” Olive asks, her hand on his face. “You're missing home, that's perfectly normal.”

“I think I'm missing it more now because I just can't wait to take you there. When all this is over, you're coming home with me, right?”

“Right,” she repeats, nodding. “Hm, favorite movie?” she asks, going back to the original subject.

“I really liked His Girl Friday.”

“Oh, me too!” Olive squeals in reply. “One of Pearl's favorites too. She had it bad for Cary Grant. Who wouldn't?”

He grins. “What's yours?”

“The Wizard of Oz,” comes her reply, a wistful edge to it. “I'd watch it every Christmas, when it was broadcast on television. I've always loved it, even as a child. It didn't really scare me like it scared other kids, it just made me cry when she had to leave her friends behind and go back home.”

“Too late to see it in theaters, huh?” He jokes.

“Oh, only by a good eighty-two years,” she laughs. “I'd love to see it on the big screen though. One day, perhaps…”

—

“I read about this in the paper this morning. They're showing the movie again for its–”

“Tenth anniversary,” Olive interjects, nodding. “I can't believe you remembered. It's been years since we talked about it.”

“So, a good surprise?”

“The best,” she sniffs. “Thank you, honey. I never thought I'd get to see it like this. It's beautiful.”

“You're beautiful,” he replies, taking her hand again. “Gonna need you to look after me though.”

“Why?” she titters, sitting back.

“The witch lady scares me.”

“It's okay,” she whispers to him, giggling a little. “I'm right here.”

—

Pulling into the driveway, Dougie switches off the engine with a contented sigh. He looks over at his wife, his expression softening as she smiles at him.

“What?” he asks her, smiling back. His eyes adorably crinkle, as does his nose.

“Tonight was perfect. Thank you,” she says, reaching over to kiss him.

“Well, it's not over yet. We still have dessert in the house.”

“What?”

“Mom stopped by with apple pie.”

“Oh, my favorite!”

“I know. I may have mentioned that you were upset and tired with work and–”

“And I've told her that her apple pie fixes everything,” Olive says happily.

“Exactly,” he replies, getting out of the car. He walks over to Olive’s side and opens the door for her, holding his hand out. “Come on, honey.”

As they enter the house, Olive heads straight for the icebox.

“Ice cream or cool whip?”

“You choose,” he smiles, pulling plates from the cabinet. She takes out the cool whip, handing it to her husband while she retrieves utensils from the drawer. As she places them down on the table that her husband and Ev had so carefully made together, she feels Dougie next to her.

“Hey,” he says, a cheeky tone to his voice. “Let me see you.”

She turns her head at the exact moment he daubes cool whip on her nose, her gasping in surprise. He laughs, before pulling her close and licking it off quickly. She squeals, him tickling at her waist as they both laugh uproariously.

“You're a menace,” she says, the last few gasps of laughter leaving her. She wraps her arms around his neck and lets her head fall to his shoulder, him taking her hand and suddenly starting to sway. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with my girl. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” she replies with a little laugh. “But there's no music.”

“Who needs music, huh?”

They stay like that for a while, gently swaying in the kitchen while the pie sits forgotten about. As their noses touch, they kiss one another softly and both sigh happily.

“Love you, Mrs Douglass.”

“Love you more, Mr Douglass.”

“Not possible.”

taglist: @ginabaker1666 @sagesolsticewrites @lestweforget5 @butterfly9012

[sad-eyed-lady-of-the-paperbacks]

Thoughts on 2.3

I can never read this chapter without tears. Zosima’s attentiveness to the concerns and the pains of common people, and of women in particular, is beautiful. It is a sad irony that although regard for women and for others who were marginalised is so striking and features so prominently in the accounts of Jesus, through the centuries, such tender concern for women has been abysmally rare amongst men—particularly those in positions of power like Zosima—who claim to be followers of Christ. Not only have such men failed to reflect this love, but they have even been some of the most zealous and hateful oppressors of the marginalised. Zosima, in contrast, is practising what he preaches. These suffering women are drawn to him for his refreshing, sincere care, and they are willing to travel great distances for the balm he offers to their suffering.

Right away in this chapter, sex and class are highlighted. It’s specifically stated that “there was on this occasion a crowd made up solely of women”, and the landowning Khokhlakovas are waiting “in the accommodation reserved for upper-class female visitors.”

There are a lot of dead mothers in this novel, but the Khokhlakovas are the reverse of this. Lise is instead fatherless, and her mother is very present.

Mme. Khokhlakova was only 28 when she was widowed, and the fact that she is widowed is the most info we ever get about her husband, as far as I recall. We don’t even know his name; later on, we’ll get Mme. Kh’s first name and patronymic, but Lise’s patronymic is never given. Of Mr Khokhlakov, all we have is a void.

Zosima walks past the visiting monk and the prominent landowner Mme. Khokhlakova and goes straight to the common people first.

I’ve linked it before, but I will once again link this source on the klikushi (warning for spoilers). A comparison is drawn between the narrator’s recollection of seeing these wailing women as a child and the horse dream from Crime and Punishment. In both cases, the child is concerned by the spectacle of suffering that is the defenceless female victim (the horse is very specifically a mare) while the adults around him are callous to it and downplay it.

Another thing from that source that is interesting is the fact that while the Freudian and Platonian models of the hysterical woman are characterised by a lack of sex or an obsession with sex, for which marriage, sex, and motherhood were supposedly the cure, this is not so with the klikushi as Dostoevsky portrays them. In their case, it is the fact that marriage, sex, and motherhood are bound up with violence and hardship which causes their shrieking. And I just have to quote this directly, it’s so profound:

In this respect, their hysteria is still related to the womb. But their hysteria is the bodily expression of the anguish these mothers feel in response to giving birth to children-to bringing them from the safety of their wombs out into a world where mothers and children suffer, into a world where God allows this suffering to happen.

Liza Knapp, “Mothers and Sons in The Brothers Karamazov: Our Ladies of Skotoprigonyevsk.” A New Word on The Brothers Karamazov, Robert Louis Jackson, 2004

A lot has already been said regarding the autobiographical inspiration of the grieving mother of little three year old Alexei. I just want to note that her name, Nastasya, means “resurrection.” And just how poignantly her grief is depicted—this is what makes me cry every time. And how Zosima validates her grief, he doesn’t criticise it as a lack of faith. Regardless of whether or not she believes her little boy is in heaven, regardless of whether or not it’s fair or makes any sense that a God who already has billions of angels would take a mother’s little boy to be one more angel in heaven with him, the fact is that he’s not there with her, the fact is that she cannot hear his little pat-pat-pat feet any more. And that is soul-crushing and devastating, and of course she cannot be comforted—she should feel no need to be comforted. She has a right to her tears. And his words to her are just so beautiful.

The young widow is very strongly implied to have killed her abusive old husband, but Zosima stops her before she confesses it publicly, which is very interesting. His response to her too, is very compassionate. I love @confessionofanardentheart’s reflections on grief and guilt in this chapter

[postambientlux]

BEST AMBIENT OF 2023

BEST AMBIENT ALBUMS of 2023 curated by @holsgr

50 : Linus Alberg - Elements

49 : Laurel Halo - Atlas

48 : Alex Smalley - Moments at the Re​-​engage

47 : Pepo Galán - Family Harmony

46 : Oval - Romantiq

45 : Lunar Corp - Tourism

44 : Henrik Lindstrand - Klangland

43 : Memory Scale - And All Things Begin to Drift

42 : Elskavon - Origins

41 : Bruno Sanfilippo - Ver Sacrum

40 : André 3000 - New Blue Sun

39 : Eluvium - (Whirring Marvels In) Consensus Reality

38 : Martin Kohlstedt - Feld

37 : Loris S. Sarid - A Tiny Reminder

36 : Subheim - Raeon

35 : Claire M Singer - Saor

34 : Faten Kanaan - Afterpoem

33 : Matt Elliott - The End of Days

32 : Gunn Truscinski Nace - Glass Band

31 : Bill Seaman, Tim Diagram & Stephen Spera - The World Was Turning Before

30 : Yosuke Tokunaga - 8 Quadrants

29 : Deepriver - Volume One

28 : Ali Sethi & Nicolas Jaar - Intiha

27 : Maps And Diagrams - A Study of Ends or Purpose

26 : Tim Hecker - No Highs

25 : Tobias Preisig - Closer

24 : Maxime Dangles - Les Délivrés

23 : Graham Lambkin - Aphorisms

22 : Loscil & Lawrence English - Colours Of Air

21 : Hania Rani - Ghosts

20 : Chaz Knapp & Mariel Roberts - Setting Fire to These Dark Times

19 : Sissoko Segal Parisien Peirani - Les Égarés

18 : Grotta Veterano & Music For Sleep - Endless Vacation

17 : Cicada - 棲居在溪源之上 (Seeking the Sources of Streams)

16 : Takashi Kokubo & Andrea Esperti - Music For A Cosmic Garden

15 : Oneohtrix Point Never - Again

14: Raphael Rogiński - Talàn

13 : Lucy Liyou - Dog Dreams (개꿈)

12 : Greg Foat & Gigi Masin - Dolphin

11 : Mette Henriette - Drifting

10 : Marine Eyes & IKSRE - Nurture

9 : Awakened Souls - Unlikely Places

8 : Lemon Quartet - ArtsFest

7 : Zander Raymond - Secrets From A Squirrel

6 : Purelink - Signs

5 : Mary Lattimore - Goodbye, Hotel Arkada

4 : Matthew Halsall - An Ever Changing View

3 : Lia Kohl - The Ceiling Reposes

2 : Rắn Cạp Đuôi Collective - *1

1 : Canaan Balsam - Eternity Lies Within Or Nowhere

BEST AMBIENT EP's OF 2023

10 : KMRU & Abul Mogard - Drawing Water

9 : Hannes Kretzer - Species

8 : Billow Observatory - Calque

7 : Alex Smalley & Lucia Adam - Shapes

6 : Max Ananyev - Scenery

5 : Ben Zucker - After Along the Way

4 : Ideophone - April

3 : James Osland - Sharing Time With You Has Been My Biggest Joy

2 : Jeremixyz - xyz

1 : Lake Haze - Pure Movements

[thebeautifulbook]

EGYPT by Laura G. Collins (Cincinnati: Robert Clarke, 1900) Illustrated by J. Augustus Knapp.

source

[evilcentral]

RKing618: We take our jobs very seriously on @evil. Waiting between takes.

[fransopdefiets]

14-6 Oslo

In Frederikshaven at ik nog een laatste fatsoenlijke maaltjd. Die bestond uit een voorgerecht van witte asperges, gestoofde vis met aardappeltjes en een creme brulée met zomervruchten. Ondertussen las ik de Meester en Margarita uit bij gebrek aan een tafelgenoot. Eetlezen noemden wij dat vroeger thuis, volgens mij was het een bekende schrijver die de term bedacht heeft.

Om negen uur was al ik bij de gate en zocht om de tijd te doden alvast een nieuw boek uit, dat werd Het Chinese lakscherm van Robert van Gulik. Stipt om half tien ging de check-in balie open en even later stond ik met twee andere fietsers vooraan in lane 31 te wachten op de aankomst van de boot. Toen die wel erg lang op zich liet wachten, konden we met behulp van Marine Traffic uitrekenen dat die er pas tegen twaalven zou zijn. Dus daar stonden we dan tweeëneenhalf uur te wachten. Als ik dat geweten had, had ik wel een ander plan voor de avond gemaakt.

Mijn gezelschap bestond uit een vliegtuigingenieur uit Bordeaux die voor Dassault werkt en vloeiend Engels sprak en een oudere dame uit Wenen die misschien tien woorden Engels kon uitbrengen. We wisselden tips en ervaringen uit en ik heb een hoop geleerd over de certificering van jachtvliegtuigen en zakenjets.

Pas na twaalven kwam ik in mijn hut, ik bleek in de Commodorekkasse te slapen, vandaar dat mijn ticket zo duur was. (Het was exht het goedkoopste ticket van deze afvaart, maar waarschijnlijk waren de goedkope hutten al op). Je slaapt dan niet onder de autodekken maar op dek 9 bovenin het schip, er staat mousserende wijn voor je klaar en je hebt je eigen ontbijtlounge. Maar Commodore of niet, na 1 minuut douchen stond ik tot mijn enkels in het water dat dreigde de hut lopen. Verstopte afvoer. Ik was te moe om de receptie te gaan zoeken en mijn beklag te doen, ik dacht, dat komt morgen wel. Overigens sliep ik als een roos in mijn queensize double bed.

Ik word tegen zevenen verkwikt wakker en begin aan mijn Commodore ontbijt, dat geserveerd wordt met uitzicht op zee. Ik kijk naar het weerbericht en maak een plan. Het is vandaag mooi weer, dus dat wordt een rustdag op camping Ekedal in Oslo. Daarna twee of drie dagen regen, dus dat zijn prima dagen om van onderdak naar onderdak te fietsen. Daarna wordt het lekker kampeerweer. Er zijn, behalve de eerste 120 kilometer voldoende goedkope overnachtingsmogelijkheden. Ik doe alvast een aanvraag voor een airbnb morgen in Kløfta. Dat is 42 kilometer voorbij Oslo en dan heb ik daarna een mooie uitgangspositie voor de tweede etappe, waarbij je meer moet klimmen.

Anton uit Linköping stuurt een sms en vraagt naar mijn route volgende week, hij wil me over een paar dagen op komen zoeken. Dat is echt fantastisch, want het is een heel stuk rijden voor hem.

Voordat ik naar de camping ga, fiets ik eerst langs de winkel van de Noorse toeristenvereniging (DNT) en regel daar een lidmaatschap. Dan heb ik een jaar lang toegang tot 700 hutten, dat zou nog wel eens van pas kunnen komen. Dan is het nog drie kilometer klimmen in de eerste versnelling naar de camping, die niet voor niks Ekeberg heet. Knappe jongen die mij vandaag nog naar beneden krijgt.

Daar aangekomen val ik midden in een treffen van fietsers, de kampioen is een Chinese jongen, die zeven jaar geleden uit China vertrokken is en nu even naar de Noordkaap wil. Ik dacht dat ik veel bagage had, maar hij overtreft me ruimschoots. Ik zet mijn tentje op, ga douchen en Mayke bellen, die op het vliegveld van Cagliari zit te wachten op haar vlucht.

Gefietste afstand: 5 km

Gefietste tijd: 45 minuten

Afstand tot de Noordkaap zoals een vogel vliegt: 1.420 km (komt dichterbij hé).

[medium-observation]

SUNSET BOULEVARD RELEASE

Sunset Boulevard - Kennedy Center

February 8, 2023 - Medium Observation

Video | Matinée

Cast:

Stephanie J. Block (Norma Desmond), Derek Klena (Joe Gillis), Auli'i Cravalho (Betty Schaefer), Nathan Gunn (Max Von Mayerling), Paul Schoeffler (Cecil B. DeMille), Michael Maliakel (Artie Green), Kevin Pariseau (Sheldrake), Tyler Ross (Manfred), Lance Roberts (Sammy), David Andre (Ensemble), Lauren Blackman (Ensemble), Julio Catano-Yee (Ensemble), Colin Cunliffe (Ensemble), Haile Ferrier (Ensemble), Emily Harvey (Ensemble), Wonza Johnson (Ensemble), Aubrie Knapp (Ensemble), Ryland Marbutt (Ensemble), Maria Cristina Posada Slye (Ensemble), Kristin Yancy (Ensemble)

Notes:

An incredible capture of this show for Closing! Some wandering is seen but never takes away from the action. Some shakiness from readjusting at time but never a lot. Very little washout is seen, only in major wideshots.

4K

NFT Date: September 1, 2023

Screenshots: https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjAryoz

Video is $20

email to purchase: mediumobservationtrading@gmail.com

[royal-jalph]

What do you do when you’re suddenly betrothed to someone you can’t possibly stand?

Ralph Rivers finds himself suddenly betrothed to King of Scotland and England, Jack Merridew. Upon meeting said King, Ralph comes to the conclusion that Jack is the most boorish, ignorant man in the entirely of Europe.

Characters Open for Interaction:

Ralph Rivers: Prince of Saint-Émilion, France.

Jack Merridew: King of Scotland and England

Roger Chambers: Tzar of Russia

Simon Farley: Soon-to-be Member of Ralph’s Court

Robert Schmitt-Rivers: Elder Prince of Saint-Émilion, France.

Maurice Lawrence: Knight to the Italian Crown.

SamnEric Barton: German Princes. Cousins to the English King.

William Collins: English King’s Advisor.

Bill Knapp: Soon-To-Be King’s man for Ralph.

Rules:

1. Be respectful! This blog has four mods (@mccall-me-maurice, @bugthebugisabug, @karaboutmyart, and @fly-away-flynn) and we want this to be a safe space for all of us as well as for anyone who chooses to interact with the blog.

2. No Nazis, Transphobes, Homophobes, TERFS, MAPS/MAP supporters, pro-shippers, etc allowed!

3. There will be shipping. If you don’t like that, then don’t be rude!

4. On the topic of shipping, please do not sexualise the characters in any way while interacting.