#The Girard Family

[soisaidfine]

Ethel Cain: my teeth - Rene Girard: "something to sink its teeth into. Perhaps this is what the story of Cain and Abel signifies"

René Girard: “We can only deceive violence to the extent that we do not deprive it of all outlet, where we provide it with something to sink its teeth into. Perhaps this is what the story of Cain and Abel signifies, among other things. The biblical text provides only one detail about each brother. Cain tills the land and offers to God the fruits of his harvest. Abel is a shepherd; he sacrifices the firstborn of his flocks. One of the brothers kills the other, and it is the one who does not have this deceptive violence of animal sacrifice. This difference between sacrificial worship and non-sacrificial worship is truly one with God’s judgment in favor of Abel. To say that God approves of Abel’s sacrifices and does not approve of Cain’s offerings is to restate, in another language, the divine language, that Cain kills his brother while Abel does not. In the Old Testament and Greek myths, brothers are almost always enemies. The violence they seem inevitably called to exercise against each other can only dissipate on third-party victims, sacrificial victims. The 'jealousy’ that Cain feels toward his brother is inseparable from the deprivation of sacrificial outlet that defines the character.” - René Girard, Violence and the Sacred (La Violence et le Sacré)

. . .

. . .

[rehsgalleries]

Marie-François Firmin-Girard

(1838 - 1921)

Feeding the Turkeys

Oil on panel

18 x 15 inches

Signed

[verfound]

House Band: A Guide to Ages

@rierse was asking about ages for the Band & Garden, and while I do have a mini cheat sheet on the Band's series page I don't think I've publicly shared the timeline I did up for them ages ago. So I snapped a pic to send her, then spent some time today actually making a digital, color coded reference. So if anyone else has been curious or wanted a guide, here's what I've got. 😂

Each mark represents a year (with two exceptions for 6mo intervals). For the Garden, darker names are births; smaller, lighter names are adoption ages. Violet is their only biological child (Rose carried her). Lavender and Basil are the Julerose twins while Hugo and Louis are the Lukanette twins.

Shortened/Nicknames:

Harmony: Harm, Chaos (Luka is the only one who gets away with calling her this - 100% Papa's Girl)

Melody: Mellie, Songbird (100% Maman's Girl (secretly also Papa's Girl))

Hugo: Huey

Louis: Louie

Dominic: Dewey

Kurt: KK

Lupine: Lulu (yes this was just to annoy Uncle Luka)

...I would say I'll update this if anything changes, but God help us all if there are more kids added to this insanity 😂

[garberworld]

[beachrosegypsy]

With the holidays coming, I thought I would feature a few paintings of my grandmother. Gertrude Tiechert A watercolor on watercolor canvas. she was three. Gertrude May (Soft Pastel) Done from a photo taken in 1932. Thanks for checking out my artwork. Maggie

[theanxiousbookdevourer]

A lot of people talk about that phone call in Disco Elysium. But I don't see many people mentioning the quiet horror that can occur before that.

One of our "prank calls" leads us to a man named Girard. If we try to get his wife on the phone, for reasons we may not understand at the time, it seems like just a bit of tomfoolery.

Then, if we push just a little too far, this happens.

(Disco Elysium spoilers, censored swearing, and implied abuse)

Oh. Okay. We're serious. I mean, we're not, but we sound serious. We're making a demand. One we don't even know why we're making.

He gets his wife. We've now involved a third person. Then—wait. A shuffle of feet. They have children.

There's fear. We hear it. Anger too. This is no longer a prank call between two lonely guys. This is a family affair. And we are not part of the family.

She is begging for mercy. She is begging for help. He is shouting at her, and we are just standing here and listening.

We are destroying their marriage. We are destroying their furniture. We are destroying a woman.

All for a joke.

We can try to stop it. We can say we were joking. We can say we're a cop. We can also say nothing.

It doesn't matter. It always ends the same way.

By which I mean... it does not end well. It will never, ever end well. Not for her. And not for the child either.

This was supposed to be a joke. A prank. A little play-acting. And instead, it turns to this. Utter destruction.

We projected our issues with our wife onto someone else, and things spiraled out of control. Now what? Now what is there to do? How are we supposed to fix this?

What if we just... can't?

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Florence Girard was so small when she died that she "looked like a child" in her casket, according to her younger sister. "She deserved so much better," said Sharon Bursey, who brought a large family photo of Girard to the stand with her on day one of the coroner's inquest into her sister's death. "She was loved. Nobody deserves that torture," said Bursey.

Continue reading

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

[couldawouldashoulda50]

One Woman, A Thousand Ways - A collection of blurbs based on the fic series From Completely Different Worlds (William Nylander x OC Loren Girard)

This is just a little idea I had for Loren seducing William one night.

Warnings - profanity, almost smut (clothed riding, almost oral [m receiving]). I decided to leave this open ended - as much I love reading/writing smut, I didn't feel it necessarily would have enhanced the story. I kind of thought the reader could imagine their own fantasy ending.

Anyway, I hope you like it!

Word Count - 3.1k

18+ only please

November, 2024

William lounged in his bed, leaning back against the headboard as he half-heartedly scrolled through posts and messages on his phone. Though his glasses were perched on his nose, the words on the screen blurred, his attention drifting elsewhere. Behind the closed bathroom door was Loren—her silhouette occasionally moving past the soft crack of light beneath it. He pictured her rushing to finish her bedtime prep, knowing she was just as eager to close the space between them as he was.

It had been more than a week since they’d last seen one another, the team’s road trip to the Midwest stealing precious time they craved together. From the moment she arrived tonight, the way she kissed him—her lips firm, her tongue grazing his—told him everything he needed to know. She missed him as much as he missed her.

His gaze dropped to the folded note she’d left on his pillow. He’d read it twice already, yet the words still stirred something deep within him. Her handwriting was beautiful, much like the hands that had written it.

One woman, a thousand ways.

The phrase pulled him back to a quiet afternoon in the hammock at his family’s lake house in Sweden. He remembered the scene so vividly still—their candid conversation, the warmth of her body against his, and her effort to understand the life he led in the spotlight. Those words had lingered in his mind since she first spoke them.

Now, as he stared at the note again, the absence of context made him ache for her presence even more.

The click of the bathroom door opening made his heart leap, and when she finally stepped into the room, his breath caught in his throat.

His eyes widened in awe as he took her in. Her delicious, plump ass was barely covered by a pair of tight red panties adorned with glittering blue letters that read, Leafs Suck.

A chuckle escaped him, but it quickly died in his throat when she turned to face him. He was totally entranced. From head to toe, Loren looked like a goddess. Her curves were on full display, the cropped Montreal Canadiens shirt clinging to her chest and baring her toned stomach. Blue garters held up thigh-high stockings patterned like the Canadiens hockey socks, completing the look with the sexy cheekiness that exuded Loren.

And then there was her hair. The sandy blonde colour he adored was replaced by a rich chestnut brown with glossy highlights of copper and honey. It was a bold change, and it completely disarmed him.

His gaze dropped again to the tiny red panties. On the front, “Caufield” was crossed out and replaced with “Nylander,” an arrow pointing suggestively downward.

William swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as his wide-eyed gaze swept over her. For a moment, he couldn’t process what he was seeing. This wasn’t Loren—or at least not the Loren he was used to. She’d transformed into someone else entirely, someone so vivid and alluring it unnerved him.

“Holy fuck…” he finally managed, his voice hoarse as a slow smile teased his lips. “Loren…”

Loren cocked her head, a wildly impure smile playing on her lips as her voice took on a thick Quebecois accent. “Loren? She your girlfriend?”

William chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Hot girlfriend,” he corrected, his grin widening.

She began to approach the bed, her movements fluid and deliberate, exuding confidence with every step.

“Lucky girl,” Loren purred, her eyes locking onto his.

William wet his lips, his heart racing as she drew closer. “I’m definitely the lucky one.”

Loren raised a brow, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “I doubt luck has anything to do with it.”

She set her phone on the nightstand, tapping “play” on her curated playlist. A wireless speaker near the bed came to life, filling the room with the opening bars of Love on the Brain. The sultry rhythm seemed to flow through Loren as she subtly wound her hips in time with the music, her every motion flawless, calculated, and hypnotic.

“It’s not luck when you can pick any girl you want,” she murmured, her accent thick and deliberate as she climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifting under her weight.

William’s hands gripped the duvet, his gaze followed her every move as she crawled toward him.

“You like what you see, Leafs player?” Loren teased, her voice dripping with seduction.

He groaned, his familiar chuckle following. “Hmm… you’re wearing the wrong team on your, uh… chest there. Wrong team colors. I thought you were a Leafs fan,” he lightly challenged, his grin crooked.

Loren raked her nails down his chest as she straddled his lap. “As a girl, I cheered for the Habs because of my father,” she said, her hands gliding up his biceps, over his shoulders, and around the back of his neck. Her voice softened, her lips brushing his ear. “As much as my papa would not approve - he’ll see me as a very disobedient Habs girl… because now, I have a terrible crush on a Leafs player.”

She leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that ignited every nerve in his body. William’s hands cupped Loren’s ass cheeks, kneading her flesh lightly as her clothed pussy rubbed against the growing bulge in his shorts.

Loren broke from the kiss, her mouth charting a path under his chin, onto his neck, and along toward his ear. William’s muscles were taut, each open-mouth kiss sending ripples of heat coursing through his body.

As the song swirled through the room, its sultry rhythm mirrored Loren’s movements. William’s shorts were fully tented, his arousal standing proud as she carefully ground against him. Her hips moved in a slow, tantalizing rhythm, her clothed core pressing against his length with just enough friction to make him groan. His hands roamed instinctively, sliding from her waist to her thighs and back onto her hips, guiding her motions with an urgency he couldn’t suppress. Short, guttural sounds escaped his throat as her deliberate movements sent him spiraling deeper into desire.

Leaning his head back against the headboard, William let his eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the sensations overwhelming him. Loren’s lips continued their journey, caressing his jawline, teasing the sensitive skin below his ear, each kiss and whisper sending him into another world. The room felt almost felt like a private VIP room at a club with the rhythm of the song, the lustful lyrics weaving around them like a spell.

“You never said if you like what you see, Leafs player…” she murmured, her voice low and taunting as her breath warmed his ear.

The seductive cadence of her words tightened something low in his stomach, his grip on her hips firming as if to anchor himself. His mind began to drift, pulled in two directions. He could feel her familiar warmth—the woman he adored—but the persona she embodied, this disobedient Habs fan, felt so real it unnerved him.

He nodded, his throat too dry to speak. He not only liked what he saw—he loved it. Loved the way her confidence had blossomed since the day he first met her, how it radiated in every teasing glance and deliberate movement.

She leaned closer, her lips grazing his ear as she continued her sultry whispers, painting vivid strokes of the fantasy she’d crafted. “Do you think my papa would approve of this?” she teased, her Quebecois accent thick and deliberate. “His sweet Habs girl, like this, with a Leafs player?”

William groaned softly, his fingers digging into her hips as her words pulled him further into the moment.

She tilted her head, her voice lowering to a provocative purr. “You’ve scored most against Montreal… but what about on the female fans?” Her lips brushed the edge of his jawline. “Would I catch your eye during a game, Leafs player?”

The words sent a shiver down his spine, her playful taunts winding around him like a snake, tightening its grip with her allure.

“Would you smile and wink at me through the glass? Get someone to give me your number during intermission?

Her question sent a jolt through him, stirring memories he thought he’d buried. There had been times—more than he liked to admit—when he noticed women in the stands. Beautiful, confident women who seemed to know exactly what kind of attention they were drawing from him. He could still remember the electric rush of those encounters—the way a fleeting glance or a suggestive smile could light something inside him.

And there were times when those moments didn’t end at the rink. A few carefully exchanged looks, a phone number discreetly passed along, a meeting arranged after the game. William swallowed hard, heat creeping up to his cheeks as flashes of those encounters played like a slideshow in his mind. The anticipation of the encounter fueled the arousal, the brief escape offered by a willing fan here and there from his private and controlled environment.

But those memories had long faded, resembling his past life that no longer seemed to fit him. Loren, sitting in his lap with her mischievous smile and disobedient persona - the words that dripped from her tongue - somehow reignited these memories. How deftly she played into the role, blurred the lines in his mind, making it hard to separate the fantasy she spun from the memories of those fleeting moments with strangers.

His pulse jumped to an even faster pace as her hips pressed against him, her warmth pulling him back into the present. She wasn’t just any woman. She wasn’t a stranger he’d meet for a single night. She was Loren—stunning, clever, compassionate. But in this moment, she was also something entirely new, and it unbalanced him.

“Would you?” she whispered, her voice a teasing melody in his ear. “Would you notice me in the stands, Leafs player? Smile at me? Think about me during the game?”

His jaw clenched as her words continued to coil around him, her seductive asks stirring something primal which lead to conflict within him. He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening on her hips. “I’d notice you,” he rasped, his voice low and hoarse. “Fucking every single time.”

Her lips curved into a wicked grin, her breath hot against his neck. “And then what?” she asked, her voice soft and sinfully sweet. “Would you take me home, Leafs player? Find out all the things a girl like me would do if she were alone with a star?”

Her words sent a pulse of heat through him, every syllable igniting his already blazing desire. His grip on her hips tightened, his breath escaping in a sharp exhale. The line between fantasy and reality was gone, blurred into a haze of want, and all he could think about was her.

William didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. His mind was too full of her—her voice, her touch, the weight of her body pressing against him. Her words echoed in his head, blending with the sultry lyrics of the song filling the room.

And I run for miles just to get a taste…Must be love on the brain…

Loren lifted herself off his lap, her hands sliding along his chest as she stood beside the bed. William’s hands instinctively reached for her, a low sound of protest escaping his throat at the sudden loss of contact. She smiled down at him, her confidence unwavering, and motioned for him to lie back.

“On your back,” she murmured, her thick Quebecois accent instructed.

William blinked, his body obeying before his mind caught up. He shifted down the bed, stretching out flat as she watched him, the cool air brushing his skin where her warmth had been. His heart pounded as he looked up at her, the dim light gracing every beautiful contour of her body.

He felt like he was in a trance. The woman standing over him, with her dark hair, her tantalizing outfit, and her knowing smile, was Loren. He knew that. But in this moment, she was something else entirely—a temptress who now seemed to own his mind, body and soul.

…That’s got me feeling this way…It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good…

Loren lowered herself between his legs, her hands trailing lightly over his thighs as she settled in. Her manicured almond-shaped nails raked gently along his skin, tracing patterns that made him shiver with pleasure. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of erotica and teasing that made his breath hitch.

“Loren…” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as though saying her name might ground him. But the Loren he knew seemed far away, replaced by this goddess who had stripped him of all control.

Her lips curled into a smile as she leaned forward, her breath warm against the growing bulge in his shorts. Her fingers trailed up his torso, her nails scraping just enough to leave a burning path in their wake. When she pressed her lips against the fabric, right where his erection strained for freedom, his body jerked involuntarily, a groan spilling from his throat.

The stimulation was blissful torture. Every nerve in his body felt alive, crackling with energy he couldn’t release. She kissed him again through the fabric, her lips firm and deliberate, and then her tongue darted out, wetting the tip of his cock through his shorts.

“Fuck,” William groaned, his hips lifting slightly, seeking more contact as his hands gripped the duvet beneath him.

Loren shifted up, her lips moving to kiss the skin just above his waistband. Her tongue traced the line where fabric met flesh, her breath hot against his abdomen. William’s body tensed, his muscles taut as she continued her slow, torturous exploration.

The lyrics swirled in the air, the sensual rhythm pulling his mind further into a haze of arousal and memory. Flashes of past encounters—the thrill of a stranger, the rush of fleeting passion—flickered through his mind, but none of them came close to this - what she was doing to him.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. All he could do was feel—her hands, her lips, her tongue���and him unraveling completely.

Her hands grazed his muscular thighs as she slipped his shorts down, baring him completely. The sensation - the moment his erection was exposed - something shifted. Loren’s movements, so deliberate and confident, pulled at memories of fleeting trysts buried in his mind.

His jaw tightened, his fingers clutching the duvet as a slight feeling of guilt washed over him. The lines blurred, his thoughts spiraling between fantasy and reality, past and present. His chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the song swirling around him only amplifying the haze.

He swallowed hard, his low voice cracked as he whispered, “Wait…”

The word was barely audible, but Loren froze, instantly scanning his body. She saw it immediately—the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched and his hands gripped the bed like he was holding himself together.

“William?” she called softly, her teasing tone replaced by concern.

She crawled up to him without hesitation, her knees pressing into the mattress as she leaned closer. Her teasing persona slipped away in an instant, replaced by the Loren he knew—his sweet and kind Loren who always seemed to know exactly what he needed. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing tenderly over his cheekbones as her eyes searched his.

“I’m so sorry if I went too far,” she murmured, her accent gone, her voice laced with warmth and reassurance. She leaned forward, her lips finding his in a slow, tender kiss that felt like he had found his way back to her, in his home, in his bedroom. Her hands moved to cradle his head, her touch soothing him as she pulled him back from the edge.

When she broke the kiss, her forehead rested lightly against his. “Do you want me to stop?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, William didn’t respond. His chest rose and fell as he stared into her eyes, letting the question settle over him. He felt grounded again in her presence, and he let himself feel her love, her care, and the calm she gave him.

Slowly, a smile began to spread across his lips. He shook his head, his voice hoarse but sure as he said, “No. Don’t stop.”

Loren’s lips curved into a soft smile, her fingers brushing through his hair. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice tender but laced with an air of mischief. Her hands slid down his chest as her grin grew. “Then let me take care of you, Leafs player.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips, this one deeper, more insistent, as her confidence returned. The rhythm of a new song echoed around them again, and the fantasy she’d created was underway once more. Loren released her hair from the ponytail, her dark wavy mane falling down over her shoulders and back as she moved lower, her lips leaving a blazing hot trail down his body.

William’s mind was no longer tethered to reality; he was fully committed to the fantasy now. He could see her clearly in his imagination, standing in the crowd for the first time, her face catching his eye among thousands. It wasn’t just how she looked—it was the way she carried herself, her bright aura, the magnetic pull of her smile. That moment, real or imagined, ignited the same heat in him now as Loren’s lips traced over his skin.

His mind flipped the script completely, weaving this Habs girl into the story he wanted to believe. Now the image in his mind was vivid. She wasn’t just a fan - she could be his conquest to be won.

Just as Loren’s tongue began to slowly lick a strip up his shaft, William gathered up her hair and lifted his head to watch her. She was amazing to him, utterly breathtaking. He was in awe of all the effort she made to show him care, affection and pleasure.

With every teasing stroke of her tongue on his cock, he watched her lean down, winding her hips to the rhythm of the music, the low light reflecting off her ass cheeks.

Fuck she was hot, and now that he had succumbed to the fantasy, his self-assured hockey persona could easily match her energy.

Her dark hair spilled over his hands and her eyes flickering up at him with a sinful glint.

With an evil little smirk, he decided he was going to give his fantasy girl a taste of her own medicine.

[respectoughfully]

Me about myself in my Late 90's Fame Dr

ABOUT ME:

FULL NAME: Isabella Rachel Allard-Tessier

NICKNAME(s): Izzy, Iz, Ibby, Belle

FACE CLAIM: my cr face but better and a bit older

AGE: 22*

BIRTHDAY: June 14th, 1976

BIRTHPLACE: Lyon, France

GENDER & PRONOUNS: female || she/her

NATIONALITY & ETHNICITY: British, French || British-French

CURRENT PLACE OF RESIDENCE: Zurich, Switzerland

ZODIAC SIGN: Gemini

MBTI: infp

FAMILY:

· Robert Allard - father,

· Élisabeth Tessier - mother,

· Isla Allard-Tessier - triplet sister,

· Isaac Allard-Tessier - triplet brother,

LANGUAGES I CAN SPEAK:

English, French, Spanish, Italian, German, Chinese, Russian

HOBBIES: reading books, horse riding, cooking, dancing, travelling, swimming, stargazing

CAREER:

· actress,

· film & music producer,

· dancer,

· singer,

· songwriter

INSTRUMENTS I CAN PLAY:

electric guitar, acoustic guitar, bass, piano, drums, flute, violin

PREVIOUS ROLES (UNTIL 1998):

· E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial (1982) as Gertie,

· Dune (1984) as Alia Atreides,

· Millie (1990) as Amelie “Millie” Girard **,

· The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) as Sally (voice),

· Jurassic Park (1993) as Lex Murphy,

· Hokus pokus (1993) as Allison,

· Heavenly Creatures (1994) - Juliet Hulme,

· Little Women (1994) as Beth March,

· A Kid in King Arthur's Court (1995) - Princess Sarah,

· La Fille seule (1995) as Valérie,

· La Nounou (1995 - 2003) as Adèle Bernard **,

· La Cérémonie (1995) as Melinda,

· Scream (1996) as Sidney Prescott,

· Romeo + Juliet (1996) as Juliet Capulet,

· The Fifth Element (1997) as Diva Plavalaguna,

· The Lost World: Jurassic Park (1997) as Lex Murphy,

· The Rainmaker (1997) as Kelly Riker,

· Scream 2 (1997) as Sidney Prescott,

· Anastasia (1997) as Anastasia (voice),

· Titanic (1997) as young Rose DeWitt,

· 10 things I hate about you (1998) as Katarina Stratford,

· Pleasantville (1998) as Jennifer / Mary Sue Parker,

· La Fille étrange (1998) as Fleur **,

· Les Misérables (1998) as Cosette,

· 23 (1998) as Lisa **,

ALBUMS (UNTIL 1998):

· The Woman Who Love Too Much (1994),

· Girls' Night Affairs (1996),

· The Lady in Red (1998)

BACKSTORY:

I was born in Lyon as the eldest of triplets, the children of British traveller and writer Robert Allard and French model and photographer Élisabeth Tessier.

Less than a year after we were born our father was offered the chance to host a travel programme called The Strider for the BBC. Together with our mother they decided to take me and my siblings on those journeys.

Since then, we have spent more time on the road than in our home in France. Together, we have explored Australia and Northern Europe, both Americas, and a good part of Africa.

Despite the unusual conditions, our parents took great care of our education and development. I had private tuitions, practised ballet and singing, learned to play a few instruments. During those travels, I aslo learnt about the culture and traditions of the countries we visited and learnt a couple of languages.

We have settled in the USA for a few years where my siblings and I finished high school. It was then that I met my best friends to this day; Judy and Kayleigh. I later got into Harvard, where I studied psychology and linguistics.

I got my first role - Gertie in E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial - at the age of six; I went to the audition out of curiosity. Later I also played the young Alia Atreides in Dune, but I didn't tie my future to acting. My love for it was born in the high school drama club. My return in front of the cameras was the 1990 film Millie, but it was with the role of Lex Murphy in Jurassic Park, which I got at the age of seventeen, that I was truly noticed. Other productions followed and with them came increasing success and popularity.

At the beginning of the university, I began to take interest in music - my first album, The Woman Who Love Too Much, was released in 1994 and it quickly became clear that I was as talented an actress as I was a singer.

At age of twenty I move alone to cottage house near Zurich.

LIKES: strawberries, misty and rainy weather, incenses and scented candles, cold pizza, winter mornings, sweets, the sea, spices, nightly baths in the lake, self-care days, the wind in my hair when I'm horse riding, forests, long walks, fireplaces

DISLIKES: arrogant people, feelings of lack of control, violence, hot weather, loud noises, bright and cool light, being sick, small and closed spaces, peanut butter, chlorine smell

* For the year 1998, to which I'm shifting to,

** Self-scripted roles/films

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here's an interesting 1959 unconventional mid-century modern home in Minneapolis, Minnesota. It has 4bd, 3.5ba, & is priced at $1.5M.

Look at this front door and the stairs.

This is some living room- those windows.

The dining room is on an elevated marble platform and look at the cool fireplace. Love that mezzanine around the living area.

The kitchen is very sleek. Like the flooring, too. It looks like they updated it, but may have kept the original cabinetry.

Outside the kitchen, there's a lovely everyday dining room.

Look at the stairs. They look like a sea shell.

The main bedroom gets a lot of natural light.

Nice large walk-in closet/dressing room.

The en-suite is amazing. Look at this.

Doors open for a view of the fireplace in the hall so you can see it while in the bath.

There's the fireplace out on the mezzanine. That's pretty clever.

One of the smaller bedrooms. This is lovely.

One of the smaller baths- love the gray fixtures.

Nice big family room.

Plus, a patio and nice yard.

[sunshine-vx]

Emergency

Families and individuals in Palestine and Gaza in need (Part 3/???) (First list here , second list here)

Information below.

Hello all

As I'm sure many of you know, there has been a genocide against Palestinians and overall extreme violence in Palestine and Gaza. This has resulted in many families and individuals being displaced, and in desperate need of help. These families and individuals need funds to be able to leave Gaza so that their lives will no longer be at such high risk.

This post is the third post following a first and second list, where I listed other individuals and families in need. Because I was having issues updating the first list and second list, I have made this post to continue posting about individuals and families in need. This list will be edited and/or updated as I find more families and individuals in need. Below will be the ones I have found thus far.

Continuing from the second list (which I will link right here)-

21: A woman named Raneen Hosni and her family need funds to be able to afford necessities and so that they may survive. Their lives are at constant risk and they need help

Here is a Twitter post about it, which includes a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme where you can donate:

22: A 17 year old named Islam Awad and his family need funds to escape the violence and genocide in Gaza. Their lives are at constant risk and they need to leave.

Here is the link to an Instagram post about it, which lists a gofundme link where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme where you can donate:

23: A person named Aseel Marwan needs help creating a gofundme campaign so that they can raise funds to be able to get what they need to survive and possibly escape.

Here is a link to one of their posts on their Twitter account, where you can message them and help if you can:

24: A man and his family need funds to be able to afford food, water and other necessities such as treatment for ailments. Their lives are at constant risk and they need help.

Here is a Twitter post about it, which includes a link to a Paypal where you can donate:

25: A man named Muhammad Khaled needs funds so that he may redistribute them to his community and help them live. Their lives are at constant risk and they need help.

Here is a Twitter post talking about it, which includes a link to a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme where you can donate:

26: A woman named Fedaa Abdullah and her family need funds to escape the violence and genocide in Gaza. Their lives are at constant risk and they need to leave.

Here is a link to a twitter post talking about it, which includes a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the link to the actual gofundme, where you can donate:

27: A family in Gaza has been misplaced multiple times. They need funds to be able to afford necessities. Their lives are at constant risk, and they need help.

Here is a Twitter post talking about it, which includes a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme, where you can donate:

28: A man named Amjad and his family need funds so that they can either escape Gaza or rebuild their life there. Their lives are at constant risk due to the violence and genocide in Gaza and they need to leave.

Here is a Twitter post talking about it, which includes a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme, where you can donate:

29: A man named Mohammed needs funds to help pay off debts caused by money he spent to help his family survive, as well as continuing to help his family survive and escape, and help himself complete his education. His family's lives are at constant risk due to the violence and genocide in Gaza, and they need help.

Here is a Twitter post about it, which includes a gofundme where you can donate:

And here is the actual gofundme, where you can donate:

Thank you all

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on Trump picking a writer as VP?

I haven't read Vance's book, so I don't know if he's a good writer, but I've heard it's a reasonably effective memoir, written mostly before he had this level of political ambition.

I just read his personal essay about his conversion to Catholicism today. I am cautious around writing that proclaims its humility and thereby forces me to search for its will to power; this is why I proclaim my will to power and allow you, but only if you want, to discover my humility, my debility, my "male vulnerability." Other than that, the essay is most moving and persuasive where it refutes the simplistic materialism of the likes of analytic philosophers and Sam Harris, and where he details his real spiritual experiences (I believe him). His critique of the left's superficially compassionate but actually cruel attitude toward the poor ("like sympathy for a zoo animal") is also exactly right. But I find it overly solemn, anxious, barely concealing the abandonment of his natal Protestantism for its plebeian or peasant quality—no less part of his desire for acceptance by an elite than was his earlier atheism. I was raised in plebeian or peasant Catholicism myself, on the other hand, which has nothing at all to do with the authorities he cites, like René Girard and St. Augustine. I look slightly askance on adult converts drawn in by the theology and morality. It has always seemed to me that the point of Catholicism—and I mean this much more religiously and much less blasphemously than it sounds—is the architecture and the incense, the barely sublimated sex and the eros of death. But I also love, as an outsider, the reckless, almost doom-seeking individualism of certain strains of Protestantism, some of them laundered as atheism. Since these seem to me to be the point of America, I am wary of overly intellectual Catholics and social democrats, their philosophies literally reeking of the over-crowded warrens of 19th-century Europe, moralistically tut-tutting about it. His second long quotation from Augustine gives me a chill, not in a good way. "[I]n his own affairs let everyone with impunity do what he will in company with his own family, and with those who willingly join him," our theologian jeers. Yes, Bishop, that's the American dream. Why not be a climate-doomer de-growther flinging soup in a museum with an attitude like that? The solution to poverty is abundance.

Possibly more significant for practical purposes, however, is Vance's tie to the literary-philosophical network around the Silicon Valley dissidents: Yarvin, BAP, and their associated publications and social media presences. (This is a good time to revisit James Pogue's Vanity Fair piece on the new right from 2022.) As Walter Kirn observed yesterday, that makes this election different from the last two. The last two were organized around the force of Trump's personality as he tried to hold together a fraying and fracturing Republican coalition of "provincial capital" (the proverbial boat dealer), the (mostly but not entirely) white working class, and the old Reagan Republican business constituencies of defense and energy, even as finance defected to the Democrats, while entertainment, academia, and intelligence pursued total war against their almost undefended reactionary enemy. The belligerent entrance of Musk and Andreessen into this election on Trump's side as representatives of big tech, with Vance as the political figurehead of big tech's literary and philosophical vanguard wing, makes it a much more even and generally significant contest: a true class war between incumbent and emergent elites. Literature has played no small part in this class war, as so many now widely-read writers and thinkers, love them or hate them, have resigned from the old left-liberal consensus. I don't mean to sound excessively neutral on the subject, but I belong to neither of the contending classes, and neither is at all democratic. I'm still not totally sure how the emergent elites' values are connected to a downbeat puritanical Augustinian Catholicism either, but since it seems to have everything to do with the aforesaid René Girard, we are still in the realm of literary theory if not literature.

In any case, the service of literature to any political faction or project should be the taming of its worser tendencies and the opening of its members to dialogue, irony, sympathy, and fresh perspectives. I will be told this is too idealistic.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

May 29, 2024

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

MAY 30, 2024

President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris campaigned today in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. They spoke at Girard College, a school where Black Americans make up most of the student body, where they emphasized the importance of Black voters to the Democratic coalition and the ways in which the administration’s actions have delivered on its promises to the Black community. 

“Because Black Americans voted, Kamala and I are President and Vice President of the United States,” Biden said. “That’s not hyperbole. Because you voted, Donald Trump is a defeated former president.”

Harris noted that Black Americans are 60% more likely than white Americans to be diagnosed with diabetes, and called out the administration’s capping of insulin at $35 a month, along with the provisions of the Inflation Reduction Act that permit Medicare to negotiate with pharmaceutical companies. She called out the administration’s relief of more than $165 billion in student loan debt for more than 5 million Americans, as well as the first major bipartisan gun safety law in 30 years. 

What has guided them, Harris said to applause, is the “fundamental belief” that “[w]e work for you, the American people, not the special interests, not the billionaires or the big corporations, but the people.” 

She contrasted their record with that of former president Trump, who tried to get rid of the Affordable Care Act that puts healthcare within reach for millions of Black Americans, proposed cuts to Social Security and Medicare, and handpicked Supreme Court justices who would overturn Roe v. Wade. “And as he intended, they did,” she said. “[T]oday, one in three women and more than half of Black women of reproductive age live in a state with an abortion ban.”

Then Biden took the stage to chants of “Four more years!” He added to Harris’s list of ways in which the administration has worked for racial equality: reconnecting the Black and brown and poor neighborhoods that were cut apart by highways in the 1960s and addressing the decades of disinvestment that happened as a consequence of the carving up of those neighborhoods (this cutting apart of neighborhoods is a really big deal in urban history, by the way); getting rid of the lead pipes that still contaminate water, especially in minority neighborhoods; making high-speed internet widely available and affordable; investing in historically Black colleges and universities; appointing more Black women to federal circuit courts than all other U.S. presidents combined. 

Under the Biden administration, he noted, Black unemployment is at a record low and Black small businesses are starting at the fastest rate in 30 years. The wealth gap between Black Americans and white Americans is the lowest it’s been in 20 years. “We’re opening more doors for economic opportunity, including access to capital, entrepreneurship, workforce training so you can build a life of financial freedom and create generational wealth...all while being the providers and leaders of your families and community,” the president said.

Biden drew a contrast between his administration and Trump, saying, “I’ve shown you who I am, and Trump has shown you who he is. And today, Donald Trump is pandering and peddling lies and stereotypes for your votes so he can win for himself, not for you.” “[W]e’re not going to let Donald Trump turn America into a place that doesn’t believe in honesty, decency, and treating people with respect,” he said, “and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Donald Trump turn America into a place filled with anger and resentment and hate.” 

According to Myah Ward and Brakkton Booker of Politico, this was Biden’s fifth trip to the Philadelphia area and his seventh to Pennsylvania this year. As he tries to win the state in 2024, the campaign has opened 24 field offices and outspent Trump there by a ratio of more than 4 to 1.   

Harris and Biden’s appearance in Philadelphia looked pretty much like a normal day in a normal presidential campaign season.

The same was not true of the presumptive Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump, who was in a courtroom in Manhattan as Judge Juan Merchan instructed the jury in the criminal case  against Trump for falsifying business records to hide a $130,000 payment to adult film actress Stephanie Clifford, also known as Stormy Daniels, to stop her account of their sexual encounter from becoming public in the days before the 2016 election.  

Legal analyst Joyce White Vance explained that to find Trump guilty, “[t]he jury must find unanimously that Trump created fraudulent business records and that he did it with the intent to influence an election through unlawful means.”

Trump and his supporters immediately took to the media to misrepresent the court system. Trump appeared to sleep through the jury instructions but later posted on social media: “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE CHARGES ARE IN THIS RIGGED CASE…. THERE IS NO CRIME.” (He had told the judge on April 4, 2023, that he understood the charges against him.) Trump insisted that he had been railroaded by the fact that “a lot of key witnesses were not called,” although his own defense did not call them and he declined to testify himself. He called the judge “conflicted” and “corrupt,” and said “Mother Teresa could not beat these charges,” a reference to the Albanian-Indian Catholic nun canonized by the Catholic Church in 2016. 

Fox News host John Roberts misrepresented the judge’s instructions, launching a wave of fury on right-wing media stations and prompting Florida senator Marco Rubio to write: “This is exactly the kind of sham trial used against political opponents of the regime in the old Soviet Union.” Utah senator Mike Lee chimed in with his own attacks on Judge Merchan. Roberts later corrected his tweet, but it was too late to change the narrative.

Tonight, those two themes reappeared again and again on social media in both Trump’s feed and those of his supporters. Their frenzy suggested they are concerned about the jury’s verdict. Newsmax host Todd Starnes tweeted: “President Trump needs to get out of New York City RIGHT NOW! Fly back to Mar-a-Lago or another state that will provide him safe harbor.”

Indeed, it seems we are seeing the fear of accountability that has been missing from the top levels of American politics since President Gerald Ford pardoned President Richard M. Nixon in 1974. While Ford believed Nixon’s accepting the pardon was an admission of guilt for his participation in the coverup of the break-in at the headquarters of the Democratic National Committee in the Watergate Hotel before the 1972 election and anything else he might have done, Nixon never admitted such guilt. 

In the fifty years since then, certain powerful people seem to have concluded that they cannot be held accountable to laws or rules. The MAGA Republicans are illustrating that disrespect for the rule of law on a daily basis as they work to undermine the courts and the Department of Justice. 

Yesterday, Jodi Kantor of the New York Times reported that Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito’s story that his wife flew the upside down flag of distress favored by the January 6th rioters as a response to a hostile neighbor did not line up with accounts given by neighbors and a police report. 

Because of that distress flag, as well as the “Appeal to Heaven” flag that flew over his beach house, Alito is under increasing pressure to recuse himself from considering cases related to the events of January 6, including whether Trump is immune from prosecution for his actions surrounding the attempt to overturn the results of the 2020 presidential election. Today Alito refused to recuse himself, blaming his wife for flying the flags—“My wife is fond of flying flags. I am not,” he wrote—and suggesting that anyone who thinks he should recuse himself is “motivated by political or ideological considerations.” 

And in what should almost certainly be read as trolling those who disagree with him, Alito, the author of the 2022 Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision taking away from American women the right to make their own decisions about their healthcare, wrote: “[M]y wife is an independently minded private citizen. She makes her own decisions, and I honor her right to do so.”  

Trump promptly congratulated Alito “for showing the INTELLIGENCE, COURAGE, and ‘GUTS’ to refuse stepping aside from making a decision on anything January 6th related.” 

MAGA attacks on the rule of law affect real people’s lives. Ryan J. Reilly of NBC News reported today that after former Washington, D.C., Metropolitan Police officer Michael Fanone called Trump “authoritarian” with a “violence fetish” in front of the Manhattan courthouse yesterday, Fanone’s 78-year-old mother was swatted, with officers showing up at her home after reports of a murder there. Fanone protected the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, and went into cardiac arrest after a rioter assaulted him with a stun gun. “This is the reality of going up against or challenging Donald Trump…. These swatting calls are incredibly f---ing dangerous, especially when the target is somebody like my mom.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[garberworld]

Hunter Girard

Age 10.

Living her best life in Britechester.

Does not get much of her moms time.

Best friends with her nanny.

Enjoys ballet classes, sleepovers and pool parties.

[beachrosegypsy]

Summer

Summer is coming and I’m hoping to spend time outside with friends, family and some wonderful kids telling enchanted stories and roasting marshmallows! And not to be a downer here, but mosquitoes are looking for their own picnic! Which is no picnic, imo. Mosquitoes lay eggs in still water which includes birdbaths. My friend uses solar fountains in her birdbath to keep her place mosquitoes down.…

[dd20century]

Alexander Girard: Color, Texture, and Joy

“Anything can be used to create beauty.” – Alexander Girard

Alexander Girard’s Youth

American architect, interior designer, product designer, and textile designer Alexander Girard was born on May 24, 1907 in New York City to an American mother from Boston and a French-Italian father. He spent his childhood in Florence, Italy, which likely influenced his later design aesthetic. (1) Florence’s rich artistic and architectural heritage of the Renaissance likely contributed to his appreciation for craftsmanship, attention to detail, and bold use of color that would later characterize his work.

When young Girard was 10 years old his parents sent him to a boarding school in England. After graduating school he studied architecture in London in 1927 and later in the Royal School of Architecture in Rome. (2)

Alexander and Susan Girard pose with their family and several pieces of their folk art collection (circa 1950). Photo credit: unknown. Image source.

Alexander Girard Begins His Career

“In 1932, Girard returned to the United States and opened his first design office in New York City. Five years later, he moved again, to Detroit, where he opened a second studio” (3). In the United States, Girard’s work became influenced by the current movements of Modernism and Art Deco, blending traditional European elements with contemporary design, creating a unique style that bridged both European and American aesthetics. (1)

During his time in New York Girard was “a member of the Architectural League of New York and the American Institute of Decorators” (4). Also while in New York Girard met designer Susan Needham March. They fell in love and married in 1936. The couple had a daughter and a son. Later Susan would be instrumental in helping Girard build their impressive collection of folk art for which the couple purchased a 200-year-old adobe house in the early 1950s in Santa Fe, New Mexico. The Girard’s home “evolved into a showcase residence...featured in television shows and books” (4).

In Detroit, Girard “practiced design and architecture in Grosse Pointe, Michigan” (4) and decorated the homes of many wealthy clients. In 1949 he curated an exhibition “For Modern Living” on postwar Modernism for the Detroit Institute. (1) This groundbreaking show “included the first public display of Charles and Ray Eames’s molded plywood chairs” (3). In 1953 Girard served as interior designer on Eero Saarinen’s Irwin Miller House in Columbus, Indiana.

Alexander Girard, Living Area of the Miller House, Columbus, IN, (1953-1957). Photo credit: Library of Congress. Image source.

Girard Joins Herman Miller

During the late 1940s, Girard became friends with designer Charles Eames “when the two … realized they had coincidently designed almost identical modern radio cabinets and were both experimenting with plywood chairs” (1). In 1952 Charles Eames helped to recruit Girard to join the Herman Miller Company and head up their Textile Division. (5) Girard was responsible for transforming the “look and feel of the furniture products designed by Charles Eames” (5) and those of Herman Miller’s head designer George Nelson. Girard used bold colors and strong graphic patterns on the upholstery he designed for the firm. Many designs were inspired by the Southwestern folk art that he loved. (1) Girard was not only concerned with the look of the fabrics used but also their quality introducing “new and varied forms of fabrics that could be used on a whole host of products and offer durability, comfort and versatility" (5).

Alexander Girard, T&O Showroom, New York City (1961). Photo credit: Vitra Design Museum. Image source.

In 1961 Herman Miller opened the T&O (Textiles and Objects) showroom which featured, “textiles as an integral part of interior displays for both designers” (2) and consumers. Girard’s folk art was also predominant throughout the showroom. Unfortunately, the shop was a bit ahead of its time. Consumers still comfortable with the muted color palate of the late 1950s were not yet ready for Girard’s bold looks, although his designs would become very popular by the decade’s end. “Girard continued designing for Herman Miller until 1973. He created over 300 textile designs in multitudes of colorways, wallpapers, prints, furniture, and objects” (6).

While Girard is perhaps best known for his work with Herman Miller, he did not work exclusively for the company. This allowed him to obtain commissions for interior projects for Braniff Airlines and John Deere. He designed many restaurant interiors, most notably LaFonda del Sol (1960) and L'Etoile Restaurant (1966), both in New York City, and The Compound Restaurant (1967), in Santa Fe, New Mexico. (2)

Alexander Girard, La Fonda Del Sol Restaurant, New York City (1960). Image source.

La Fonda Del Sol

Girard collaborated with his friends and fellow designers Charles and Ray Eames on the La Fonda Del Sol project. The restaurant which opened in the Time-Life Building in 1960 "was a Latin American-themed eatery with beautifully designed murals, typefaces, menus, tableware and fabrics all by Girard” (5). The Eames designed the restaurant’s furniture, and Girard asked that the chairs “not be higher than the surface of the table and that they could be pushed to the table and leave a clear field of vision over the restaurant” (5). The resulting chairs were an upholstered “adaptation of the fiberglass arm and side chairs but with a lower rounded back.” Herman Miller later sold the Eames’ designs under the La Fonda line. (5)

Alexander Girard, Menu from La Fonda Del Sol Restaurant, New York City (1960). Image source.

Girard and the End of the Plain Plane

In 1965 Girard obtained a commission from Braniff Airlines to spearhead a rebranding campaign called “The End of the Plain Plane.” Girard was responsible for redesigning over 17,000 objects “airplane interiors to waiting room seating, condiments, blankets, uniforms and even food trays” (5). Girard did not design the airline attendant uniforms which were designed by Italian designer Emilio Pucci. In addition, Girard created a line of furniture for Braniff's ticket offices and customer lounges which Herman Miller marketed only in 1967. (5) Girard’s design was so popular that other airlines soon followed after the Braniff corporate redesign program.

The Girard Foundation

Alexander and Susan Girard founded the Girard Foundation in 1962. The organization managed over 100,000 items in the couple’s folk art collection. “Toys, dolls, icons, and other ethnic expressions” 2 made up the collection. “In 1978, Girard contributed his immense collection to the Museum of International Folk Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico, United States”. (2) The Girard Wing of the museum houses Multiple Visions: A Common Bond, a permanent collection by Alexander Girard designed and installed. (2)

Alexander Girard, Poster for the 'The Nativity’ exhibition of folk art, Nelson Gallery of Art, (1962). Image source.

Alexander Girard's Awards and Legacy

Alexander Girard was awarded the Silver Medal by the Architectural League of New York in 1962 and the Elise de Wolfe Award by the New York Chapter of American Institute of Interior Designers in 1966. (2) In 2001, Cooper Hewitt in New York City held a retrospective of this work The Opulent Eye of Alexander Girard. Another exhibition of Girard’s work was held at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 2006. Several books have been published on Girard’s work. (2) Alexander Girard died from complications of Alzheimer's Disease on New Year’s Eve 1993 in the home where he and his wife had lovingly assembled their folk art collection. (4)

With current interest in mid-century modern design, Girard’s work has become very popular and highly collectible. A new generation of designers has been influenced by his bold color sense and strong graphics and by his sense of joy and whimsy obtained by combining those designs with Southwestern folk art.

References

Stardust.com, 2024. Alexander Girard Biography. https://www.stardust.com/alexander-girard.html

Wikipedia.com, (1 October, 2014). Alexander Girard. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_Girard

Stylepark AG, (2024). Alexander Girard. https://www.stylepark.com/en/designer/alexander-girard

Lyons, R. D. (2 January, 1994). Alexander H. Girard Dies at 86; Architect and Interior Designer. New York Times online archive. https://www.nytimes.com/1994/01/02/obituaries/alexander-h-girard-dies-at-86-architect-and-interior-designer.html

Eames.com, (2024). https://eames.com/en/articles/alexandergirard

Herman Miller (2024). Designers: Alexander Girard. https://www.hermanmiller.com/en_lac/designers/girard/