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Fallen London’s True Identities
Oscar Wilde as the Epigrammatic Irishman
#fallen london#my post#true identities#fallen london’s true identities#epigrammatic irishman#oscar wilde
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REGULUS BLACK | HOLD HER! PART 0.5
SUM. : you have a bizarre encounter with regulus because james couldn’t help himself —but his heart was in the right place at least (a prequel to part 1)
TAGS. : fluff ; grumpy regulus ; sunshine reader ; grumpy x sunshine trope ; you don’t have to read the first part to read this ; James being a defensive, protective older brother type ; James doesn’t condone slander ; inspired by a scene in demon slayer ; we love James ; but he can be a little much sometimes… ; but he’s perfect~ ; my James simp is showing ; excuse me~
LENGTH : 0.7k
NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED
PART 1
“Regulus!” You call, waving enthusiastically towards the aloof Slytherin. It was break time between morning and afternoon classes and most people were on their way to the dining hall for food, except Regulus and his few friends who were going the opposite direction.
Beside you, the marauders give you an incredulous look. They understood how bubbly and bright you were, able to befriend anyone you came across, however, when it came to Sirius’ younger brother, hardly anyone was a tough enough contender to break through Regulus Black’s stone walls.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” the older Black brother utters in disbelief from beside you. His voice is a whisper and whether anyone heard him or not, they never showed it.
As expected, Regulus narrows his eyes at you and scowls deeply. He looks both offended and disgusted at your greeting towards him.
Sirius frowns deeply at his younger brother’s antisocial behaviour while Remus tries to keep a neutral face despite his instincts wanting to kick in and protect you. The lycanthrope has grown a sisterly fondness for you, all of the marauders have, but him especially seeing as you were the very few people who could actually cheer him up before and after a full moon. Naturally, Peter cowers slightly at the confrontation but tries to mask his fear — although unsuccessful from the intensified glare directed his way and the satisfied smirk that followed on the small circle of friends around Regulus. James doesn’t seem to mind the interaction at all, smiling harmlessly throughout the interaction. Look at you making friends! He’s so proud!
“Aren’t you going to eat lunch?” You ask with an adorable tilt of your head as Regulus feels his eye twitch. This has to be a sham…nobody really acts like this.
“That’s none of your business,” Regulus is loyal to his principle of keeping all interactions brief; his response epigrammatic. However, it’s forced through clenched teeth, his tone biting and a direct opposition to the calm demeanour he famously displays.
“But what if you get hungry later on? Won’t you get stomach pains?”
“Again,” the younger Black brother emphasises his irritation with the narrowing of his eyes, “that’s none of your concern,” you want to continue arguing, saddened by his resistance; nobody should feel hungry during classes, it makes the hours drag on far longer than necessary, “now move out of my way, this whole act of yours isn’t cute —you’re not cute,”
Sirius scoffs and begins to pull you into his side as Remus steps away with Peter to make way, both frowning deeply at the way the Slytherin spoke to you. James, however, was stock still, the world suddenly moving at a snails pace around him.
‘Not cute?’ James looks at you, his earlier smile slowly slipping away as he blinks his face between you and Regulus, ‘Not cute…NOT CUTE?!’
“WhaT dID YoU SAy?!!” James screeched loud enough to draw the entire hall of students’ attention, “LIES!” He continues to defend as everyone looks at him as if he’s lost his mind, even Regulus who was an expert at keeping his expression some cold.
“Jame—“ You’re cut off when James reaches over and holds your face with one hand, cupping his palm under your chin as his fingers and thumb press into your cheeks and turn your lips outwards, rendering you unable to speak.
“ShE’S thE CUTEst! JUST lOok at HER! Her BEAutY is LiKe NO OthEr! Do YOu KNow hOW MaNy PeOPLe I’ve HAd to SCarE AwaY from APPrOchInG Her wITh bAD InTenTIONS?!” James emphasises by pulling you close to his side with his other arm and stepping the two of you closer to Regulus who steps back. He doesn’t know how to describe it but Regulus felt threatened by the fire fiercely blazing in James’ eyes, “YoU JUsT nEEd to See heR in BeTTEr LiGHTinG! THATS ALL! ThESE STupiD HaLLWay CanDLes ARen’t ENOUGH!” James reaches for the younger Slytherin, a game plan already forming in his head, “CoME wITh ME!”
“Get away from me, Potter!” Regulus hurriedly steps away from the older Gryffindor’s grip, flustered and avoiding your adorably squished face. Paired with your large, round eyes, puffed out, pouty lips and dinky nose… your winsome features are nowhere near cute!
Regulus makes his escape by forcing his way past, his heart racing from the adrenaline of the bizarre encounter just adrenaline.
You’re not cute. You’re not cute. You’re not cute. YOU’RE NOT…cute…
A/N : i wrote this incredibly sleep deprived but inspired. i hope you enjoyed <3
NAVI.
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy
#regulus black fluff#regulus black x reader#regulus x reader#regulus imagine#regulus black imagine#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black#regulus black x you#regulus black x female reader#marauders#marauders era fanfiction#hp marauders
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[ooc; replacement of Flatterbang || Glowing Hope]
Soo... I guess, they're finally ready.
This is...
Swation. They are like a separate demons, yet share one body.
Both use the name "Swation", yet each side could refer to theirselves as colors. "Red" and "Blue".
+ Both.
Faction: Blackrock;
Assigned gear: Body Swap Potion;
Extra gears: Presidential Vampire Slaying Ax, Black Tie Affair Gun;
Height: 5'11" (180 cm);
Age: 26 y.o.;
Goes by He/Them;
Mostly a Phighter, could take a job of mercenary/assassin or mechanic/scientist;
Both barely know each other, only from photos, items and texts written on papers by themselves for each other;
███████ loathes them. Riotgraft is set hostile to them.
★ Red side of Swation.
He's pretty much an extrovert. Being reckless and joyful most of time, not caring for wellbeing much. Sometimes getting into too much fights or causing troubles. He's enthusiastic and optimistic, yet for the spite he finds some enjoyment in torturing others, especially Blue, by suddenly switching to Blue side whenever the situation is nasty. His humor is more sophomoric(childish) and somewhat epigrammatic, droll.
He's more of a Melee side in fights, yet still could use distant attacks, such as throwing ax or using Blue's gun.
He has some bad habits, which hurts the body(Such as inebriation, smoking. Please don't endure those actions yourself, nothing cool in it. Only harm.). Blue doesn't appreciate it.
He has a bad handwriting, so when he tries to communicate with Blue by writing on paper, Blue struggles to read it.
He tends to go overboard with fights, but not always murdering demons to avoid Banlands, but he still gets fined and scolded, if not chased.
But Ban Hammer is still fuming at him for taking merc or assassin jobs.
... he's a bad listener.
★ Blue side of Swation.
A completely opposite of Red, being pessimistic and more collected in situations. He is more leaning on a deadpan and serious side, very introverted and distant. And a lot being irritated and pestered by Red, even without ability of those two to see each other in person. Otherwise, he's less reckless and more cautious, being cynical(or skeptical) and sometimes a bit sardonic, bitter. His humor is more of dry, mordant and highbrow.
He's more of a Ranged side, using his gun for sniping or attacking on distance. He could use close-range attacks, such as whacking with the blunt part of gun or suddenly slashing with Red's axe.
He's against bad habits and very much hates when Red leaves him dealing with inebriated state by using the switch.
He has a good handwriting, which makes Red a bit ticked off, but mostly Red doesn't care most of time.
He does only what necessary, and tries to not go overboard in fights if possible. He doesn't get into fights a lot due to mostly doing job as a scientist.
He's a good listener.
Ban Hammer doesn't hate him much, but mostly hates Red. Yet still both Blue and Red get scolded for "outlawing", due to sharing body. So, both of them will suffer in the cell if caught.
—
Lil drawing of Blue Swation... such a judging stare
#phighting#phighting roblox#phighting!#art#artwork#phighting art#Swation#Blue Swation#Red Swation#phighting oc#glowing hope | flatterbang replacement#why is it so hard to draw during sickness holy illumina#was very much unmotivated that even didn't want to post it 3:
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Writing is thinking, but it’s thinking slowed down — stilled —
... And that’s one of the arguments for writing well — for taking the time and summoning the focus to do so. Good writing burnishes your message. It burnishes the messenger, too.
You may be dazzling on your feet, an extemporaneous ace, thanks to the brilliant thoughts that pinball around your brain. There will nonetheless be times when you must pin them down and put them in a long email. Or a medium-length email. Or a memo. Or, hell, a Slack channel. The clarity, coherence, precision and even verve with which you do that — achieving a polish and personality distinct from most of what A.I. spits out — will have an impact on the recipients of that missive, coloring their estimation of you and advancing or impeding your goals.
If you’re honest with yourself, you know that, because you know your own skeptical reaction when people send you error-clouded dreck. You also know the way you perk up when they send its shining opposite. And while the epigrammatic cleverness or audiovisual genius of a viral TikTok or Instagram post has the potential to shape opinion and motivate behavior, there are organizations and institutions whose internal communications and decision-making aren’t conducted via social media. GIFs, memes and emojis don’t apply.
When my friend Molly Worthen, a history professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a frequent contributor to Times Opinion, took the measure of the influential diplomat Charles Hill for her 2006 book “The Man on Whom Nothing Was Lost,” she noted that a principal reason for his enormous behind-the-scenes influence was his dexterity with the written word. He took great notes. He produced great summaries. He made great arguments — on paper, not just on the fly.
Worthen noted in her book that “transmitting ideas into written words is hard, and people do not like to do it.” As a result, someone who performs that task gladly, quickly and nimbly “in most cases ends up the default author, the quarterback to whom others start to turn, out of habit, for the play.”
Good writing announces your seriousness, establishing you as someone capable of caring and discipline. But it’s not just a matter of show: The act of wrestling your thoughts into logical form, distilling them into comprehensible phrases and presenting them as persuasively and accessibly as possible is arguably the best test of those very thoughts. It either exposes them as flawed or affirms their merit and, in the process, sharpens them.
Writing is thinking, but it’s thinking slowed down — stilled — to a point where dimensions and nuances otherwise invisible to you appear....
I think you can take the “pen and paper” out of the equation — replace them with keystrokes in a Google Doc or Microsoft Word file — and the point largely holds. That kind of writing, too, forces you to concentrate or to elaborate. A tossed-off text message doesn’t. Neither do most social media posts. They have as much to do with spleen as with brain.
What place do the traditional rules of writing and the conventional standards for it have in all this? Does purposeful, ruminative or cathartic writing demand decent grammar, some sense of pace, some glimmer of grace?
Maybe not. You can write in a manner that’s comprehensible and compelling only or mostly to you. You can choose which dictums to follow and which to flout. You’re still writing.
But show me someone who writes correctly and ably — and who knows that — and I’ll show you someone who probably also writes more. Such people’s awareness of their agility and their confidence pave the way. Show me someone who has never been pressed to write well or given the tutelage and tools to do so and I’ll show you someone who more often than not avoids it and, in avoiding it, is deprived of not only its benefits but also its pleasures.
Yes, pleasures. I’ve lost count of the times when I’ve praised a paragraph, sentence or turn of phrase in a student’s paper and that student subsequently let me know that the passage had in fact been a great source of pride, delivering a jolt of excitement upon its creation. We shouldn’t devalue that feeling. We should encourage — and teach — more people to experience it.
— Frank Bruni, from "A.I. or no A.I., it pays to write — and to write well" (NY Times, December 21, 2023)
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saw this post referenced recently and I've been having some thoughts about it
of course I really like the conceit here, and afaict I have one of the most expansive conceptions of "art" in my milieu. so of course I think that painted-over glow-in-the-dark stars in your airbnb can be art, I love this
but op actually doesn't call the thing "art," they call it a "poem," and that's really interesting!
a part of me wants to be critical of this, like, the aspects of poetry that I really like are sonic and verbal and just as much about presentation as they are about content, and I do believe you could take this idea and make a really good poem about it
and this part of me wants to say like, this is emblematic of exactly the things I dislike about much contemporary poetry, where there is I feel very little attention actually given to presentation, to the sound and rhythm and structure of the words themselves, where those things are neglected in favor of directness and cheap emotivity
buuuuut
at the same time I can't deny that there's something really compelling about calling this experience a poem, specifically. it's a metaphor, it draws attention to specific features of the thing that wouldn't be captured by using the more general word "art" and in doing so reveals some things about the way op thinks about poetry. in a word, it's poetic
and I do believe that there are interesting, valuable things about this contemporary idea of poetry, which treats a poem not as an intentional linguistic craft but as something more epigrammatic, juxtapositional
I want to draw a comparison to photography, which I think can be used in a similar way: drawing attention to specific visual features of an object or scene without being distracted by the crafts of expressive or realist painting (both of which can often obscure more than reveal the object being presented)
as op says: the themes are already there. what they want to present is context, is juxtaposition: an airbnb, a ceiling that's been painted over, a missed star. a photograph's lush visual detail would drown out the idea; a ballad's rhythm and imagery would distract from it
you can and I even think should make beautiful things out of ideas like this. but the idea itself is already beautiful, and there's a real artistic craft to noticing that, and presenting it without ornamentation. just, "look at this beautiful thing."
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I found myself in a pickle and the entirety of my fellowship is aware.
People living in tundras view me as an acquaintance.
Although I resemble the features of an icy field I know nothing of it.
It has come to my attention that I have reached an unsurpassable amount of at least 40 million avid fans on the biggest video related social media platform.
Frivolous endeavors in front of a digital display unit is where my humble beginnings lie.
I then found myself training in a physically demanding environment to ascend to a highly regarded boxer and be permitted on the premises of a fighter.
And my lyrical expertise which I have perfected as an epigrammatic cypher writer has allowed the pabulum-consuming populace to give me a monarchal title in accordance to my many accomplishments.
oaoaahhhhhohwoahhhh
As such progresses the tale of my life and career.
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Byron simping for the Irish orator, politician, wit, and lawyer John Philpot Curran
Byron in a letter to Thomas Moore dated October 2, 1813:
"I have met Curran at Holland-house — he beats every body; — his imagination is beyond human, and his humour (it is difficult to define what is wit) perfect. Then he has fifty faces, and twice as many voices, when he mimics; — I never met his equal. Now, were l a woman, and eke a virgin, that is the man I should make my Scamander. He is quite fascinating. Remember, I have met him but once; and you, who have known him long, may probably deduct from my panegyric. I almost fear to meet him again, lest the impression should be lowered. He talked a great deal about you — a theme never tiresome to me, nor any body else that I know. What a variety of expression he conjures into that naturally not very fine countenance of his! He absolutely changes it entirely. I have done — for I can't describe him, and you know him."
In Greek mythology the female virgins of Troy would go to the Scamander river (which Scamander supposedy lived in after going mad and throwing himself in) and bathe in it while ritualistically praying for Scamander to take their virginity (sources: Theophoric Names and the History of Greek Religion by Robert Parker and Neilomandros. A contribution to the history of Greek personal names by Peter Thonemann).
In an 1816 entry from his diary Detached Thoughts:
"Curran! Curran's the man who struck me most. Such imagination! there never was any thing like it that ever I saw or heard of. His published life — his published speeches, give you no idea of the man — none at all. He was a machine of imagination, as some one said that Piron was an epigrammatic machine. I did not see a great deal of Curran — only in 1813; but I met him at home (for he used to call on me), and in society, at Mackintosh's, Holland House, &c. &c. and he was wonderful even to me, who had seen many remarkable men of the time."
In his later destroyed memoirs, quoted by Thomas Moore:
"In his Memoranda there were equally enthusiastic praises of 'The riches,' said he, 'of his Irish imagination were exhaustless. I have heard that man speak more poetry than I have ever seen written, — though I saw him seldom and but occasionally . . ."
#lord byron#byron#lgbt#John Philpot Curran#john curran#19th century#regency era#scamander#greek mythology#funny#romanticism#literature#thomas moore
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Synalegg - MOLT (Miniature, 2024)
Inspired by the Miniature Recs format, Synalegg designed MOLT, an epigrammatic algorithmic program that generates a pattern and transforms its spectral, temporal, and tonal features over the course of a minute, “the original motif being modified by mutation into another sound material, like a molting process”.
The music coming out of MOLT has sharp edges, yet it evolves fluidly, at the threshold between angular, discrete patterns and continuous spectral morphologies, like a geometric surface transforming its topology in time driven by inner autonomous forces. (Bandcamp)
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Continuing to reread the Wicked books, can’t believe Gregory Maguire single-handedly made me gay. I forgot about the epigrammatic bickering nuns and their conversation with the gay Water Buffalo.
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अयं निजः परो वेति गणना लघुचेतसाम् उदार चरितानां तु वसुधैव कुटुम्बकम्
ayam nijah paro veti gananā laghuchetasām, udāra charitānām tu vasudhaiva kutumbakam
this is for me and that is for other— such is the thinking of a narrow-minded person, whereas for the noble and broad minded persons, the entire world is one big family. — Maha Upanishad
given above is a subhashita from the Maha Upanishad, one of the Samanya (minor) Upanishads in Hinduism. a subhashita is a genre of Sanskrit epigrammatic poems which preach maxims, aphormisms, lessons and advices or carry a riddle. they are typically composed in four or two padas (lines).
the term 'subhashita' originates from two words: the prefix 'su' which means good, and the word 'bhashita' which roughly translates to 'that what is spoken' in english.
that, my dear reader, is the gyaan of the day
#desi tumblr#desi academia#linguistics#language#sanskrit#classical literature#vedanta#poetry tumblr#desi girl#desi culture#desiblr#quotes#hindu vedas#upanishads
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Underlying the conciliar definitions about Christ as God and man, there are two basic principles concerning our salvation. First, only God can save us. A prophet or teacher of righteousness cannot be the redeemer of the world. If, then, Christ is to be our Saviour, He must be fully and completely God. Secondly, salvation must reach the point of human need. Only if Christ is fully and completely a man as we are, can we men share in what He has done for us.
It would therefore be fatal to the doctrine of our salvation if we were to regard Christ in the way that the Arians did, as a kind of demi-God situated in a shadowy intermediate region between humanity and divinity. The Christian doctrine of our salvation demands that we shall be maximalists. We are not to think of Him as 'half-in-half'. Jesus Christ is not fifty per cent God and fifty per cent man, but one hundred per cent God and one hundred per cent man. In the epigrammatic phrase of Saint Leo the Great, he is totus in suis, totus in nostris, 'complete in what is His own, complete in what is ours.'
Complete in what is his own: Jesus Christ is our window into the divine realm, showing us what God is. 'No one has ever seen God; the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, has made Him known to us' (John 1:18).
Complete in what is ours: Jesus Christ is the second Adam, showing us the true character of our own human personhood. God alone is the perfect man.
-- Kallistos Ware, The Orthodox Way
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A tear-stained note of regret is notable only by its absence.
This. Fallen London is full of marvellous wording and witty comments, but this reward of the Fighting a War of Assassins carousel always gets me the most. It's so fucking funny. I love it so much.
It's perfection. Witty and quick, with the perfect amount of complexity to bring the point home. @failbettergames, thank you so much! The Epigrammatic Irishman would be so darn proud of you!
#failbetter games#fallen london#fighting a war of assassins#i love this so darn much#though i seldomly play the war of assassins carousel#i get all the dramatic tension i need in the cave of the nadir#schroed's thoughts
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The Deer Hunter (1978)
By Cris Nyne
The Deer Hunter was co-written and directed by Michael Cimino. It follows a group of Slavic-American friends that work together in a steel mill in Clairton, Pennsylvania, just south of Pittsburgh. The area in which they live is dilapidated, and the steel mill fuels most of the local economy, which isn’t much. Friends Michael (Robert De Niro), Nick (Christopher Walken), and Steven (John Savage) are heading off to Vietnam after a weekend that includes Steve’s wedding and a trip into the mountains to hunt deer. The cast of friends is rounded out by Nick’s love interest Linda (Meryl Streep), Stan (John Cazale), John (George Dzundza), and Axel (Chuck Aspegren).
The movie begins in Clairton, where the group of friends are punching out of the steel mill and grabbing a beer at the bar to pre-game before Steve’s wedding that night. Steve’s partner, Angela (Rutanya Alda), is pregnant and they are having a grandiose Russian Orthodox ceremony before Steve heads off to Vietnam. The church hymns would return later in the film when Robert De Niro’s character, Michael, is stalking deer. This is where Michael finds his spiritual peace. After the wedding, the men head into the mountains for one last deer hunt before Michael, Nick, and Stevie are off to Vietnam. The film then hops the ocean to portray some very troubling scenes of war, along with the deadly Russian roulette “games” that the Vietcong imposed on captured US soldiers in the film. The movie then follows Michael’s returns home to depict the celebratory, yet grieving community of friends and family.
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"The picture is a long, sprawling epic-type in many ways more novel than motion picture. It employs literary references stylistically, forecasting events which will happen in the film. Events are foreshadowed by the way the camera moves and by epigrammatic hints made by characters–techniques more frequently related to book writing. Cimino’s film is worthy of serious study and certainly will be treated to much analysis during the next year, and decade as well." -Charles Schreger for Variety, November 1978
What makes this film more touching, is that this would be actor John Cazale’s last film. He was diagnosed with lung cancer before filming and would pass on before The Deer Hunter was released in theaters. Mr. Cazale’s credits included The Godfather franchise, The Conversation, and Dog Day Afternoon. He would star in five films in the seventies. All five films were nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture. John Cazale and Meryl Streep were in a relationship together and his passing affected her greatly. Ms. Streep would accept the role as Linda so she could be by John’s side while filming. Robert De Niro paid for Mr. Cazale’s medical insurance to help save his friend and keep the production of the movie in motion.
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The Deer Hunter was both critically and financially successful. With a budget of 15 million dollars, it would go on to gross just shy of 49 million, domestically. There were many glowing reviews for The Deer Hunter in major publication throughout the country. The amount of recognition the film received through accolades and awards is astounding, especially considering this was only the second film by director Michael Cimino. It was nominated for nine Academy Awards and won five of them. Amongst the awards were Best Picture and Best Supporting Actor for Christopher Walken. Rotten Tomatoes lists The Deer Hunter with an 86% on the “Tomatometer” and 91% audience score. The negative feedback about the film mostly revolved around Mr. Cimino’s bigoted depiction of the Vietnamese. The Russian roulette scenes were also derided by some for being historically inaccurate, as there were no such records of this ever happening.
“More terrifying than the violence--certainly more provocative and moving--is the way each of the soldiers reacts to his war experiences. Not once does anyone question the war or his participation in it. This passivity may be the real horror at the center of American life, and more significant than any number of hope-filled tales about raised political consciousnesses.” -Vincent Canby, The New York Times, December 1978
The film depicts hard times in America, and most certainly in Vietnam. Families don’t have much in terms of material wealth, but their lives and relationships are rich with endearing connections to one another. The cinematography brings you right into the scene with the actors and there is an abundance of grit throughout the film, both in style and substance. Although this was only the sophomore release from Mr. Cimino, the A-list cast of actors (especially De Nero, after starring in The Godfather II and Taxi driver) and the 15-million-dollar budget lends The Deer Hunter to be more of a conventional movie. The intense depictions of the Vietcong and the Vietnamese, along with the subject matter of putting a gun to your own head and pulling the trigger could upset, aggravate, or alienate certain audiences, which does add some elements of being unconventional, as well.
The Vietnam war left a massive stain on the quilt of American history. To this day, a lot of soldiers who survived the intense, dragging battle have permanent scars that cannot be seen. The Deer Hunter sheds some light on the scope of the experience, not only within the borders of Vietnam, but also how the war shaped and affected the lives of family and friends of the soldiers who either enlisted or were drafted. The film ends with the remaining group of friends singing the most somber, poignant version of “God Bless America”, leaving us with a stinging rebuttal for the cost of serving your country with a machine gun.
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The Deer Hunter (1978) - Critical Quotes and Textual Resources
By Cris Nyne
"It is not an anti-war film. It is not a pro-war film. It is one of the most emotionally shattering films ever made." -Roger Ebert March 9, 1979
This is a rather large statement from one of the most recognized film critics in the history of cinema. I equate "emotionally shattering" with psychologically intense, and I am looking forward to watching the film. I have been interested in the subject of Vietnam and soldiers returning with PTSD ever since the father to one of my friends in high school would describe in detail some of the things that would happen as he was in the trenches.
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This scene between Christopher Walken and Robert DiNero is intense and not for the faint of heart. The acting is brilliant and keeps you on the edge of your seat. Christopher Walken would win the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor for his role as Nick Chevotarevich, a steel mill worker that would go on to fight in Vietnam.
"The picture is a long, sprawling epic-type in many ways more novel than motion picture. It employs literary references stylistically, forecasting events which will happen in the film. Events are foreshadowed by the way the camera moves and by epigrammatic hints made by characters–techniques more frequently related to book writing. Cimino’s film is worthy of serious study and certainly will be treated to much analysis during the next year, and decade as well." -Charles Schreger for Variety, November 28, 1978
The cinematography described by Mr. Schreger gives the impression that the director Michael Cimino has made a groundbreaking film.
Robert DiNero on a hunting trip with friends before going off to serve in Vietnam. From Raging Bull, to Taxi Driver, to Goodfellas, Mr. DiNero has given us intensity and depth that very few actors can achieve in their careers.
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Hungry Ghosts sees the prize-winning poet Gabriele Tinti collaborate with the acclaimed photographer Roger Ballen on a unique artistic engagement with the furthest edges of life and consciousness. Drawing inspiration from the Petavatthu verses of the Buddhist tradition, Hungry Ghosts is a thrilling evocation of the disturbing visions and the yearnings for a world beyond that have fed both ancient and modern understandings of the afterlife.
Taking as their starting points the simplest of media—respectively the brief epigraphic verse and the photographic negative—Tinti and Ballen have produced something truly extraordinary: a masterfully crafted series of poems in dialogue with a stunning array of phantasmagoric images. Tinti’s verse has become renowned for its combination of rigorous sparseness on the level of diction with imagery of an extraordinary power and resonance. These qualities are once again much in evidence in Hungry Ghosts, but Tinti’s response to Ballen’s brilliant and disquieting works has also led him to explore an entirely new terrain: the uncanny borderlands between life and death.
“HUNGRY GHOSTS IS A BOOK in which words and pictures combine to make the absent present—that which is lost but may nevertheless return, the ghosts of our mind, supernatural powers. It is a phantasmagoria that gives voice to the repressed part of our existence: to nightmares and bad thoughts, to that which we desperately wish to banish or regain, even if only in effigies or words.
The title and structure are derived from the Petavatthu (“Ghost Stories”—“Hungry Ghost”, to be precise. In Pāli: peta; 隞苤—literally: ���hungry spirit”), a Theravada Buddhist scripture of fifty-one poems evoking the dramatic stories of the spirits, the restless dead, their sufferings that result from bad actions performed in previous lives and, also, the possibility of redemption.
The book retains both the form and the content of the Petavattu, combining them with the resonance of epigraphs from the ancient world. So there are fifty-one poems composed by Gabriele Tinti in the form of epigrams that, in relation to Roger Ballen’s pictures, compel us to reckon with the mystery of our thirst for transcendence—with the desire for, and fear of, death and the beyond.
Reading Hungry Ghosts shows what it means to consort with ghosts—to speak with and compare ourselves to our forebears in the conviction that art and poetry are none other than that same quest and attempt.”
✔ Gabriele Tinti is an Italian poet and writer. He has worked with the J. Paul Getty Museum, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and the British Museum (among many other institutions), and his poems have been performed by actors including Abel Ferrara, Willem Dafoe and Kevin Spacey. His work is focused on the theme of death and suffering and is mostly composed in the form of ekphrastic and epigrammatic poetry. In 2018 his ekphrastic poetry project Ruins was awarded the Premio Montale with a ceremony at the Museo Nazionale Romano in Palazzo Altemps.
✔ Roger Ballen is one of the most important photographers of his generation. He has published over twenty-five books, and his photographs are collected by some of the most prominent museums in the world. His oeuvre, which spans five decades, began with the documentary photography field but evolved into the creation of distinctive fictionalized realms that also integrate the mediums of film, installation, theatre, sculpture, painting, and drawing. commonly referred to as Ballenesque. Ballen has also been the creator of several acclaimed and exhibited short films that dovetail with his photographic series. Ballen was one of the artists that represented South African at the Venice Biennale Arte 2022.
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For more than 70 years, a slender volume written by a dockworker who died in 1983 has been handed around by presidents, would-be presidents, journalists, students, and more as a guide—decade after decade—to epochal and baffling events.
Published in 1951 in the shadow of World War II and the rise of the Soviet Union, Eric Hoffer’s The True Believer: Thoughts on the Nature of Mass Movements became one of President Dwight Eisenhower’s favorite books. As the former Supreme Allied Commander of European forces during World War II, Eisenhower saw firsthand the rise of mass movements and how they turn destructive. During one of the nation’s first televised presidential press conferences, he cited the book, turning it into a bestseller.
Hoffer, often called “the longshoreman philosopher,” was admired across the political aisle. In 1967 he was an overnight guest of President Lyndon Johnson at the White House. In 1983, President Ronald Reagan awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Years after Hoffer’s death, his book was rushed back into print and sold briskly when, in the new millennium, people turned to The True Believer to explain the attacks of 9/11. Decades before the terrorists commandeered the planes, Hoffer wrote:
All the true believers of our time declaimed volubly. . . on the decadence of the Western democracies. The burden of their talk is that in the democracies people are too soft, too pleasure-loving, and too selfish to die for a nation, a God, or a holy cause. This lack of a readiness to die, we are told, is indicative of an inner rot—a moral and biological decay.
Since then, journalists have cited the book as a source to explain both the creation of the Tea Party on the right and the Occupy Wall Street movement on the left.
In 2016, presidential candidate Hillary Clinton, to better understand her opponent Donald Trump and his followers, read what she later wrote was Hoffer’s “exploration of the psychology behind fanaticism and mass movements, and I shared it with my senior staff.”
For readers today, Hoffer’s descriptions of the nature of these movements and the people who join them are timelier and more trenchant than ever. The book—the paperback edition is fewer than 170 pages—is divided into 125 “chapters” ranging from a few sentences to several pages. These are mostly epigrammatic observations that build into a portrait of the personalities and forces that create mass movements.
As The Wall Street Journal wrote: “If you want concise insights into what drives the mind of the fanatic and the dynamics of a mass movement at their most primal level, may I suggest an evening with Eric Hoffer.”
I first learned of The True Believer in the summer of 2020. I was out of the U.S. getting my PhD in psychology at the University of Cambridge. I had already begun publishing my own social observations, which led to an interview with a Dutch media outlet on cancel culture. The interview was posted and got a lot of views, which prompted the head of the outlet to take it down because he felt I was too sympathetic to the canceled.
I wrote a piece in Quillette on the irony of being canceled for expressing my thoughts on the canceled, and noted, “The U.S. used to export Coca-Cola, television shows, and music. Today, we export outrage, deplatforming, and social mobbing.”
A fellow student in my program saw the piece and told me I had to read The True Believer. I did, and like Eisenhower, it quickly became one of my favorite books. There were passages—published in 1951!—that seemed to describe how the rise of intellectual and social orthodoxy on campus, and across a growing number of institutions, stifles debate and free expression. More than that, Hoffer captured how in the age of smartphones and social media, people fear the consequences of uttering a single wrong word. He wrote:
[I]n a mass movement, the air is heavy-laden with suspicion. There is prying and spying, tense watching, and a tense awareness of being watched. The surprising thing is that this pathological mistrust within the ranks leads not to dissension but to strict conformity. Knowing themselves continually watched, the faithful strive to escape suspicion by adhering zealously to prescribed behavior and opinion. Strict orthodoxy is as much the result of mutual suspicion as of ardent faith.
[...] Hoffer also described how language gets enlisted as a marker of who really is a true believer:
Simple words are made pregnant with meaning and made to look like symbols in a secret message. There is thus an illiterate air about the most literate true believer. He seems to use words as if he were ignorant of their true meaning. Hence, too, his taste for quibbling, hair-splitting, and scholastic tortuousness.
I wonder what Hoffer would make of a world in which some words are so pregnant with meaning that the phrase “pregnant women” has become verboten. […]
One of the key and enduring insights of The True Believer is that frustration is the fuel of mass movements. Frustration, though, doesn’t arise solely from bleak material conditions. Hoffer argued, “Our frustration is greater when we have much and want more than when we have nothing and want some.”
He points out in the years leading up to both the French and Russian Revolutions, life had in fact been gradually improving for the masses. He concludes, “The intensity of discontent seems to be in inverse proportion to the distance from the object fervently desired.” […]
In a passage in The True Believer that is reminiscent of today’s idea of the “horseshoe theory”—that is, political extremes have more in common with one another than with moderates—Hoffer wrote, “When people are ripe for a mass movement, they are usually ripe for any movement. . . . In pre–Hitlerian Germany, it was often a toss-up whether a restless youth would join the Communists or the Nazis.” One of his most famous aphorisms is this:
“Hatred is the most accessible and comprehensive of all unifying agents. . . . Mass movements can rise and spread without belief in a god, but never without belief in a devil.”
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