#flying above moldova

[kovvskii]

with under 5 days left, we have made it to europe

currently flying above moldova

good luck pinkmin

went on a trip to japan and right before leaving i set my pikmin on an expedition

didnt think it would take very long but.

so now my pinkmin are dragging an apple across the chinese border, all the way to the uk

good luck pinkmin

[yhwhrulz]

Two potential unidentified flying objects were spotted about 36,000 feet above Romania and Moldova, sparking security concerns in the nations, both of which border Ukraine.

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 1 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fic

Here is chapter one of my new fanfic!

Title: Succession

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OCs

Rating: PG-13 for language and intense scenes (for now, this is a slow burn, but it will get very hot and spicy in later chapters)

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova that you didn’t know existed has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The music blasted from the car speakers as you drove down the main road towards the highway.  You had your phone plugged into your car stereo, your favorite Spotify playlist on shuffle.  Despite the A/C being on full blast, beads of sweat formed at your brow and rolled down your temple.  You adjusted the vents on either side of you, making sure the cold air directly hit your body.  The song that was playing had you tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, your head bopping to the beat.

The fridge at home was close to empty and it was beyond time for you to go grocery shopping.  The grocery list was secure in your purse and you were determined to stick to the items on the list and not make any frivolous purchases.  Money was tight and you only had so much money left before payday next week.

The song shut off suddenly followed by your ringtone.  Looking at the screen of your phone, UNKNOWN stared back at you. Probably a spam call, you thought to yourself, reaching to press the red Ignore button.  Unfortunately, your finger slid at the last minute and mistakenly tapped the Accept button. You watched as the call came through and the seconds ticked off.  FUCK!

“Hello?” you greeted with a hint of exasperation in your voice.

“Hello, am I speaking with Miss Y/N?” a heavily accented male voice responded.

“Yeah, this is she,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.  You tried your best to avoid these calls, ignoring them and letting them go straight to voicemail.  Very rarely was it followed with an actual message, which was more than fine with you.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Ron M. Dathermi.  I am a lawyer residing in Chisinau, Moldova in Eastern Europe…”

You raised your eyebrows at that.  Moldova?  Who the hell was calling you from Moldova?  Chalking it up to a scam, you were about to interrupt the man when he continued.

“...I wish I was calling under better circumstances, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.  Your great uncle, Serghei Popa, has passed away from a short illness and has named you his sole beneficiary…”

You couldn’t help the amused huff that came out of your mouth.  This must be some very elaborate scam.

“Umm...sorry, but I think you have the wrong person.  I don’t have family from Moldova and I have never heard of this man in my whole life.” You were about to hit the End button when Mr. Dathermi continued.

“Am I speaking with Y/N, born on (your birthday) to (your father and mother’s full names) and the granddaughter of (your grandfather and grandmother on both sides of your family)?”

Your eyes widened at that.  “Yeah, that’s me…” you answered.

“I know this may sound unusual, but Mr. Popa was the brother of your grandmother on your mother’s side.  He was given up for adoption at birth and taken in by a Moldovan family.  He did not have a spouse and had no children, and according to the genealogy report I have before me, your grandmother and your mother are both deceased.  Your mother was an only child, yes?  It appears to me that you are the last of his living relatives.”

You pulled off the road and into an empty parking lot.  The information you were being given was a lot to handle.  You didn’t have that large of a family.  You were an only child and raised by your parents and both sets of grandparents.  Both of your grandfathers had died before you turned 10.  Both grandmothers died within 5 years of each other and your father and mother died of illnesses, cancer and pneumonia respectively, in the last year.  Grief was a feeling that you knew better than anyone.  You kept to yourself mostly and you didn’t have any close friends or a significant other.

“Listen,” you began, “you are correct about all of your information, but how do I know this is not some kind of scam?”

The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat and the sound of shuffling papers met your ears.  “I can imagine that this information is sudden and unusual.  What I will do is send a copy of his will and a copy of the genealogy papers to your address.  I encourage you to take this to your lawyer and have them look over the information.  The reason I am calling is because I need you to fly to Moldova, sign these papers, and accept the monetary inheritance that he has left you.”

Your jaw dropped as you looked down at your phone.  Fly to Moldova?  Is this true?  The only thing you knew about the country was that a foreign exchange student from high school was born and raised in Moldova.  That about sums up your knowledge of the country. This seemed incredibly asinine and ridiculous.  But the word that settled in your train of thought was “inheritance.” What inheritance?

“Mr...what was your name again?” you asked.

“Mr. Dathermi, but you can call me Ron,” the lawyer responded.

“Ron...umm, how much monetary inheritance are we talking about?”

More shuffling of papers was on the other side of the phone, Ron clicking his tongue as he looked through the information.  “He has left you 53,806,746 Moldovan Leu...which translates to $3,000,000 in American currency.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!?!” you exclaimed before clamping your lips shut.  You heard Ron chuckle.  “I’m sorry, pardon my language. It’s just...wow...this sounds insane…”

“I can imagine it does,” Ron replied, “which is why I want to mail this information to you and have your attorney take a look at it so you know this is a legitimate will and testament.  If you would like, I can mail the information straight to your attorney if you are still leery.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you said, shaking your head.  Your mind was whirling.  None of this sounded remotely true.  You felt as if you were dreaming.  This felt like something that only happened in books and fairy tales...a girl who had nothing and nobody suddenly inheriting millions of dollars from an unknown distant relative.  What are the odds of something like this happening in real life?  You gave Ron Dathermi your home address.

“Thank you very much, Miss Y/N.  I will send this as soon as possible.  I’ll also include my business card so your attorney can contact me and we can iron out the details.  Thank you very much, Y/N...I’ll be in touch.”

You thanked him as well and ended the call.  All alone in your car in the empty parking lot, you let out an excited squeal and started hopping up and down.

*

You adjusted the messenger bag that was slung across your shoulder as you heard the overhead speaker call for the boarding of your flight.  Taking a deep breath, you got in line, extended your ticket to the airport employee, and walked down the tarmac and into the plane.

Butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.  Your hands gripped your bag tightly as the flight attendant looked at your boarding pass and pointed down the aisle to where you were to be seated.  You had never flown before and your nerves were on alert.  Scenes from Final Destination flashed in your head as you walked down the aisle towards your seat.  Taking a deep breath and willing your body to relax, you located your seat next to the window and sat down, plopping your bag onto your lap.  

The small window was close to the wing of the plane and looking beyond that was a long expanse of grass that met a vast forest.  You were thankful that you had the window seat and your headphones so you could tune everything out and relax in your own little world.

Once the papers from Mr. Dathermi arrived a week prior, you immediately called the attorney that helped you with the probate and will from your parents’ deaths several months back.  He was more than happy to help, knowing that you were all alone in the world after your parents had passed.  Two days later, he called to inform you that all of the paperwork was, in fact, legitimate and that Mr. Serghei Popa was the brother of your grandmother.  He showed you the adoption papers, confirming that your great uncle had been put up for adoption and the family that took him in had relocated to Moldova when he was two years old.  He had remained in the country until his death.  Your attorney contacted Mr. Dathermi, who in turn secured a round trip plane ticket in order for you to come to Moldova to finalize the paperwork and collect the inheritance.

At the thought of the money you were about to acquire, another surge of excitement flowed through you.  Your parents hadn’t left you much after their death and you worked at a dead-end job that had no room for advancement and no possibility for raises.  All of these recent events sounded like something out of a fairy tale.

“This is your captain speaking,” the voice sounded from the speaker above your head, “we will be departing in the next ten minutes.  Please make sure your seatbelts are secured, your tray tables are up, and all electronics are off until we are at the appropriate cruising altitude.  I will inform everyone as soon as the coast is clear.  Thank you for flying with us and enjoy the ride.”

You fastened your seatbelt and laid your head back, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be nervous…” a voice sounded next to you.  You opened your eyes and looked over to see an older gentleman with wide rimmed glasses and a nice smile.

“Is it that obvious?” you asked, returning his smile.

“It’s pretty obvious,” he chuckled, “my name is Bruce Williams.  I’m the air marshal on board this flight.” You told him your name and shook his hand. “Just relax,” he assured, “we’ll be flying for the next 10 hours.  There are lots of movies and tv shows to watch on the screen in front of you, or you can listen to your music and read a book if you brought one.”

You patted your messenger bag.  “Yeah, I have a few books to choose from.  Thanks,” you smiled.

Within minutes, the plane had backed away from the tarmac, turned towards the long expanse of runway, and increased speed before leaving the ground and soaring up into the clouds.

*

The steady hum of the plane’s engines provided a relaxed soundtrack as you slept.  It was close to early morning, according to the clock on the tv screen, but your watch was still on your regular time zone.  It read early afternoon and that threw you through a loop.  You had heard that jet lag could be a bitch and you wondered how bad yours would be once you landed.  Bruce had passed you a pillow and blanket once you were ready to sleep and he assured you that your bag and belongings would be safe while you slept.

You were so thankful to be seated next to him.  Not only was he the air marshal, but he was a really cool person as well.  You two talked about movies and actually watched a couple of them on the tv screen in front of you.  Bruce was kind and nice to talk to.  The crinkle of crow’s feet around his eyes, his laugh, and his hair color mixed with hints of gray reminded you of your father...maybe that’s why you liked him so much.

You shifted in your seat and let out a soft yawn.  Stretching your arms above your head and arching your back, you wondered how much longer it would be until you touched down in Moldova.

“You weren’t asleep that long,” Bruce murmured.  You looked over to see a book in his hand and his glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and then go back to sleep,” you replied, standing from your seat.  Bruce stood up and allowed you out into the aisle.  You made your way to the bathroom towards the back of the plane.  The cabin was dark with little lights dotting either side of the aisle on the floor. Soft lights were shining here and there from people reading, watching the tv screen, or messing with their phones while most of the passengers were asleep.

Once in the bathroom, you did your business, flushed the toilet, and began washing your hands.  The mirror in front of you showed a tired and weary version of yourself.  Some of your eye makeup was smudged.  You told yourself once  you returned back to your seat, you’d retrieve the makeup remover wipes in your bag and do away with the dirt and oil.

Just then the plane hit an air pocket and dropped several feet, throwing  you forward towards the sink and mirror.  You let out a shriek as the plane quieted and went still.  “God dammit,” you muttered, putting your hand over your heart, “that scared the shit out of me!”

Once out of the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and walked back to your seat.  You tapped Bruce on the shoulder and he moved aside.

You lifted the window shade and looked outside.  Natural light from the start of the day began to show.  The plane was amongst the clouds so it was fairly cloudy and hard to see.

“How much farther do we have?” you asked Bruce.  He shifted the book to his left hand and looked down at his wristwatch.  “We should be there in three hours.  I think we are flying over Romania right now…”

You nodded your head and thanked him, turning back to the window.  The clouds gave way momentarily and provided the opportunity to see the ground below.  Tall, snowy mountains came into view.  You smiled and marveled at their beauty, wondering what mountain range this was.  You cursed yourself for forgetting the basics from your World Geography class in high school.  Hell, all you knew about Romania was that it was the setting for Dracula and the real life territory that was once owned by Elizabeth Bathory, who allegedly killed upwards of 650 maidens and bathed in their blood.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself.  You really did enjoy some morbid and fucked up stories.

Your train of thought stopped short when a large and spacious castle came into view.  Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.  It looked like something out of a Disney movie or from ancient castles that still sat throughout Europe.  The place looked like it stood on several acres of land and who knows how many square feet.  What a gorgeous and breathtaking place it was.  You wondered just what was inside a monstrosity like that and who was lucky enough to inhabit such a place.  Maybe there were castles in Moldova that you could explore and visit while you’re conducting your business.

The castle fell out of view and not far from it stood what looked like a village.  You were too high up to see any people or any traces of lights or torches.  You took everything in with total awe and appreciation.  It looked like a small and sleepy storybook town.

A sudden movement close to the village caught your attention.  You squinted your eyes and tried to look closer, pressing your forehead to the window.  What the fuck is that, you wondered.  It looked like a black tree, naked of leaves or any type of growth...and it was moving.  It looked to be swaying in the breeze, but the size of it looked way too sturdy for any kind of gust to move it with such fluidity.  As you focused on the tree, it appeared to be growing...getting closer to the plane.  Was the plane descending?  Were you getting closer to Moldova?

One of the branches of the tree slowly drifted to the ground before extending long and rigid, slinging itself up into the air like a bullwhip, hitting the wing of the plane.  The plane suddenly tilted as the slithering limb wrapped around the wing and broke it off.  You let out a loud scream as the plane turned on its side, Bruce falling against you, squishing you to the wall.  “WHAT THE FUCK??” Bruce screamed as yelps, shrieks, and screams echoed in the cabin of the plane.  Dozens of people were knocked from their seats, flight attendants falling into the aisle and rolling towards the cockpit.  The plane shook and quaked as it dropped several feet in a matter of seconds.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” you screamed, grabbing hold of Bruce’s arm.  The air masks dropped from overhead and Bruce grabbed yours, making quick work of putting it over your face.  “HOLD ON TO IT! HOLD IT OVER YOUR MOUTH, Y/N!!” he commanded, reaching for his own mask.

“THE WING OF THE PLANE HAS BEEN DAMAGED!” the pilot yelled from over the speakers, “WE ARE LOSING ALTITUDE! BRACE FOR IMPACT!”  People screamed and panicked, holding on to whatever it was they could.  Panic surged through your body as your fingers dug into Bruce’s arm.  The plane shook as it fell.  Your stomach dropped and it felt as if you were seconds from impact.  You looked out the window one last time before the ground came into view and everything went black.

*

He leaned over the body on the metal table in the lab of his factory.  He fastened the bolts with a wrench and tested the strength of the metal against the rotting flesh.  A soft horn sounded in the distance along with the various turns of chains and clangs of steel against steel.  He wiped the sweat off his brow and walked to his desk, looking over the blueprints and sketches he had devised the previous day.

Despite the different array of sounds, nothing could mask the loud crash that sounded off in the distance.  He lifted his head, silently trying to figure out what the fuck made that noise.  Leaving the body laying on the table, he exited his lab and made his way down the stairs and to the factory doors.  

With a grunt, he slid the doors aside and looked off into the distance.  Black smoke billowed from an area that looked to be close to the village.  Other than the crows squawking and flapping their wings in retreat, everything was dead quiet.  He looked off to the right just in time to see the long, spindly limbs of mold retreating back towards the earth.  Karl Heisenberg’s face tightened in a disgusted grimace.

“Mother Miranda...what have you done?”

[socialistarchitecture]

: . light installations in the shape of flying saucers looking well above the PMAN scuare . . #insularmodernities #socialistarchitecture #sovietarchitecture #moldovanmodernism . #socialistarchitecture_moldova #urbanexplorer #modernismtour_moldova #sovmod #sovietmodernism #sovarch #modernismtour #modernism . #publicspaces_chisinau #transformationofpublicspace #publicspace #urbanism_chisinau #urbantransformations #kishinev #chisinau . ©insularmodernities . (at Chisinau, Republic of Moldova) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPH27Tnlg-U/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[tenduw]

Aph nations and eurovision #1 - aph Australia edition 2015-2020

Ahh, so I might as well start this thing off as I've been a bit obsessed with eurovision. So this is a series on how I think hetalia nations would feel about the music brought forward to represent them at eurovision each year.

Anyway, Australia - everyone's favourite European country ❤️

Before we begin, I would like to say that I kind of headcanon Jett's music taste to be all over the place, so the genre of music he listens to can be country, rock or whatever. The one thing it can't be however, is boring as I don't see him as the type of guy who would use music to try and fall asleep or to listen to whilst doing paperwork.

2015 - Tonight Again by Guy Sebastian

My god, was this an entrance. Jett would absolutely love this and I honestly think he would have spent weeks after the contest having this stuck in his head. I think, like Australia seemed to in the actual contest, he wouldn't really care about the staging as he was at eurovision! Something that I feel he would be very proud and excited about. So yeah, in summary, I think he would really like it, and would probably be really happy with the result, as he thought it was a one year thing.

He thought wrong.

But yeah I think in esc 2015, his favourite songs would have been 'Grande Amore' from Italy, 'I'm Alive' from Albania (those notes would catch him off guard) and probably 'Love Injected' from Latvia. His favourite probably would have been 'Rhythm Inside' from Belgium (and he would call her to tell her that he's voted for the song - which would be much appreciated)

I feel like he would have been happy with the winner ('Heroes' by Mans) as whilst the song didn't really stand out to him, the staging was really memorable.

Least favourite - 'Wars for nothing' from Hungary. Yeah, I really think he'd hate it - it's not his cup of tea.

2016 - Sound Of Silence by Dami Im

I think when the song came out, Jett wouldn't like it that much. Nothing would really stand out, and so he would probably find it boring. However in the live version, I think he would have absolutely loved it and would have been really happy that she came second, cause her vocals were winner worthy. However, I don't think that this song is the type of song he would listen to more than twice.

In esc 2016, he would love the staging for both 'You are the only one' from Russia and 'I've been waiting for this Night' from Lithuania - they both were constantly changing. I think that he would find both 'Help you fly' from Belarus and 'Play' from Australia absolutely hilarious and so they would be guilty pleasures. However I do think he would have voted for 'If love was a crime' from Bulgaria as I do see him genuinely both the song and the performance.

I think he would like the winner ('1944' by Jamala) even though he would probably accept that he can't really relate to the song. The song is emotional, and I think he would really respect it. However I don't see him listening to this either

Least favourite song - 'Slow Down' from the Netherlands and 'If I were sorry' from Sweden. Yeah, both songs just don't go anywhere and I think Jett would hate that.

2017 - Don't come easy by Isaiah Firebrace

My god would he hate this song. I really do think he would see this as boring, and unlike 2016, he wouldn't be pleasantly surprised by the singer's vocals. He would honestly be surprised that this came 9th in the end.

I do think that 'Rain of Revolution' from Lithuania would be one of his guilty pleasures. If he wants to make Wy laugh then I can see him putting that on. Unlike the previous year, I can see him liking Sweden's song. Likewise, I can see him liking the uk's entry (for the first time) cause of the singer's vocals. I think he would like the chaotic staging of 'Yodel It' from Romania and 'occidentali's karma' from Italy and the impactful staging of 'origo' from Hungary. However I think his vote would go to 'Hey Mamma' from Moldova, who would probably thank him at the next World meeting.

Yeah, I see him absolutely hating Portugal's song. If anything, I think that would be his least favourite song - perhaps alongside 'blackbird' from Finland.

2018 - We Got Love by Jessica Mauboy

Yeah, he'd really like this song. It's a general feel-good pop song, that I feel like he'd just enjoy.

He'd enjoy quite a few songs from this year, 'that's how you write a song' from norway and 'toy' would both be songs that he would listen to after the show. 'la forza' from estonia would be a song that he wouldn't expect to enjoy, but he would. However, his vote would definitely go towards 'fuego' from Cyprus - he would love that song and be rooting for that one to win.

I think he still with toy winning though, just a tad disappointed.

Least favourite song - 'I won't break' from Russia. I don't think an explanation is needed. Although I see him also disliking 'Storms' from the UK (not that he'd tell them)

2019- Zéro Gravity by Kate Miller-Heidke

Ahh, I'd see Jett absolutely loving the staging. And I see him being proud of her hitting that note in the bridge... Yet I don't think he would like many popera songs, and so he wouldn't really listen to the song outside of the contest.

I think that he would really enjoy many of the songs of the contest, he would really enjoy 'spirit in the sky' from Norway, 'like it' from Belarus and 'fire of love' from Poland. I think he'd really like the staging of France, Spain and Iceland. Although I do see him voting for 'She Got me' from Switzerland.

I don't think he'd hate 'arcade' from the Netherlands, however it wouldn't be his favourite either. I think that he would have preferred it if 'soldi' from Italy won.

Least favourite song - 'that night' from Latvia or 'run with the lions' from Lithuania. I feel like he wouldn't like the songs on their own, yet combined with unmemorable staging, he would probably hate those songs.

2020 - Don't break me by Montaigne

I think Jett would be fairly neutral towards this song. Like he wouldn't like the staging, but as he would listen to the song outside of Eurovision, it would be ranked above 2017 and 2019.

He'd probably be gutted that eurovison couldn't happen this year, yet wouldn't complain. I think he'd enjoy 'uno' from Russia, 'still breathing' from Latvia and probably 'violent thing' from Germany. Also 'solovey' from Ukraine.

There was no winner this year due to corona, but I do see him having the view that Lithuania would have won. As a result, that's who would have voted for.

Least favourite song - 'you are the best in me' from France. I think he'd just hate the song. I also see him disliking 'grow' from the Netherlands - it's too slow for him.

But yeah, if he were to rank his own songs:

1. Tonight Again 2015

2. We got love 2018

3. Sound of Silence 2016

4. Don't break me 2020

5. Zero Gravity 2019

6. Don't Come Easy 2017

So yeah... that's how I think he would view it - would anyone agree or disagree, I'm curious!

[prep4goth]

I wrote a little thing about Alex "Trash Goblin" Torini based off a prompt I saw online. It's finished, though the ending is rushed and I'm bad at grammar so. I wasn't creative enough to come up with a title lmao

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fandom: They're Watching (2016)

Characters: Alex Torini

Content Warning: swearing, light depictions of violence/gore, mentions of trauma

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Alex began the day similarly to how he’d start each and everyday for the past several months; heart thumping wildly and a cry dying in his throat. The details of the nightmare were unclear. As his heart rate declined, the fucked up imagery would fade into obscured whisps. He can’t remember the last time he woke up in the comfort of his bed. Every morning without fail, Alex came to face down on his couch. Fortunately, it was the largest piece of furniture he owned. He could easily stretch out without even bumping the other end. Sometimes having short legs wasn’t a complete curse. 

Alex, convinced that his bones were made up of 40% calcium and 60% lead, fought the urge to remain in his current position. He felt like a boulder sinking into his sofa. Rolling onto his back, something that should be elementary, required a tremendous amount of effort. His eyes focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling. There was a crack- water damage from his pissbags neighbors above him-  that ran from the furthest corner to the fan. The longer he concentrated, the wider the crack appeared. While he envisioned the crack splitting open and dumping gallons of water on his head, the rational part of Alex’s brain demanded that his body move. 

With an Earth shattering sigh, he dragged himself into a sitting position. Alex rubbed his sore eyes. He couldn’t massage away the dry heaviness that seemed to permanently settle behind his eyelids.  What time did he pass out last night? A glance at his still opened laptop and half empty coffee mug told him it had been an unplanned slumber. He’d probably intended to only rest his tired eyes for a moment and slipped into unconsciousness. Just as he had done the previous night. And the night before that. And so on and so forth. His couch had transformed into his office/bedroom/dining area. 

Alex’s left arm was stiff from being tucked under his skull; a makeshift pillow. The tips of his fingers buzzed. Though, whether or not it was from holding that particular position or the dog bite, Alex had no clue. He curled his fingers into a fist. He watched the muscles in his forearm tense. With a slight grimace, he noted the rippling of the angry, pink marks embedded into his skin. Alex dimly recalled the searing pain of canines sinking into his flesh. He remembered the clink of teeth against bone and the ungodly amount of blood. Alex flinched as if the memory had physically burned him. But no matter how violently he jerked his head, the gruesome images were still imprinted in his mind’s eye. Hand cramping, Alex slowly unfurled his fist. With his fingers fanning out, he shook his hand until the cramping dissipated. It made no difference what he did. Numbness spread from the pads of fingers to his wrist, but feeling would eventually creep back. It always did. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Alex mentally prepared himself for another day of pacing his cramped apartment, slowly deteriorating his vision via computer screen, and consuming unhealthy amounts of coffee. That last one, however, was only achievable by getting his ass off the couch. As sizable as the couch was, it was destroying his back. Alex braced his hands against his lower back as he hefted himself onto his feet. He twisted side to side, spine popping obscenely loud in the quiet apartment. 

Alex scooped up his phone from the coffee table, thumb pressing the home button. Though, the screen remained black. Well, fuck me. I forgot to charge this bitch. He realized with a weak chuckle. Not that he really cared that his phone died in the middle of the night. He hardly used it aside from emailing clients and mindless mobile games. Alex reflected on how he unintentionally severed ties with most if not all his friends while he plugged his phone in to charge. Occasionally, a film buddy would reach out, but responding to pointless texts was rather taxing. His friends had eventually gotten the memo. They figured he was pretty much useless. 

Once, Alex was convinced the flame of desire he had for creating would never flicker out. He was determined to make a name for himself in the film industry. Being a sound guy for some home improvement show made for middle aged and hobbieless parents was not the end goal, but a starting point. Fresh out of highschool and hardly scraping by, Alex thought it was an incredible gig to dip his feet in. The plan was to save up enough money to move out of his parent’s place and gain some behind-the-scenes experience. He’d graduate to bigger and better things; directing. Plans change and aspirations are grated into something more realistic. Alex had not minded flying from country to country, slinging a boom mike over his shoulder. The fact that his boss wasn’t pleasant, to say the least, or that he could only afford a shitty apartment with cracks in the foundation hardly phased him because at least he had Greg. That bastard was the only thing keeping Alex from jumping ship and enrolling in law school like Alex’s dad begged him to. Then they visited fucking Moldova. 

Moldova was a pair of bloodshot eyes that tracked his every move and reeked of smoke. Alex could feel its glare sorching his back every time the memories began to fade. The smoke burnt his lungs, choking him with shame if he ever attempted to forget it. Meeting the accusing eyes meant addressing the unbridled guilt eating away at his stomach whenever he so much as breathed. The weight of its scrutinous gaze left Alex wondering why he was the one left to poorly recite the witch’s tale. According to the witch possessing Becky, Alex was destined to capture the chaos that unfolded that night. Why him, out of every other person, she failed to clarify. 

The witch’s carnage was the last thing Alex filmed. Everytime he picked up a camera, his stomach churned. He feared he’d lift the camera to his face and see Becky’s warped grin on the other side. Wallace, unfortunately the only other person alive, had kindly kicked Alex to the curb. The footage would never see the light of day. People didn’t seem to question the show’s new host, or even Kate’s whereabouts. Greg and Sarah, nameless crew behind the cameras, hardly hurt Wallace’s pockets to replace with other nameless crew. That soulless, corporate prick didn’t even blink upon hearing that his own niece had met the business end of an axe. 

There was no hazard’s pay, not even after a 300 hundred pound man nearly strangled Alex to death. Alex needed to find another source of income to keep his lights on. So, he started editing other people’s work. The majority of his clientele were grown men screaming at video games and indie artists. Humorously enough, Alex favored editing the least. He was equipped with basics, but found it skull- splittingly tedious. It required sitting in one place for too long and extreme focus- something Alex had to shut his mouth for more than five minutes to accomplish. After watching his closest friends die horribly, however, Alex found it was much easier to be silent. A chatter box to a complete mute in months. Now, Alex slipped into the monotonous mechanics without complaint. The simple repetitiveness of splicing clips and adjusting audio levels allowed him to drift through the week without thought. It was slightly pathetic. He willingly chose to rot his brain on a day to day basis for the convenience of not having to think. 

Clearing his throat, Alex realized he’d been standing next to his charging phone for several minutes. He frequently caught himself falling down a rabbit hole of damaging thoughts. His forehead creased, fingers twitching against his phone. He ignored the throbbing pulse where the scar from the dog bite was. Powering his phone on, Alex didn’t expect anything exciting. Maybe an email asking for an update or a notification from one of his various games. He was unpleasantly caught off guard by the blinking ‘missed call’ icon. Upon further inspection, it was a missed call from Bernadette- an old friend Greg introduced Alex to. 

Apparently, Greg had played gigs at some dive bar frequently enough to earn some “street cred”as he often bragged about. Bernadette, when she wasn’t lugging camera equipment around archaic buildings, was bussing tables at that very same dive bar. With similar senses of humor,  which consisted of constantly taunting poor, outnumbered Greg, Alex and Bernadette were instant pals. They were too eerily similar for Alex to develop any feelings beyond platonic, despite Greg’s occasional teasing. Bernadette was the only person left in Alex’s life that was too damn stubborn to let go. Desperate for some form of human reaction, Alex craved reaching out. He tried almost daily. Alex had typed out several messages to Bernadette but erased every single one. Of all people, Bernadette deserved to know what happened; she was practically a sister to them. Except Alex had no clue how to tell her. Whether it was guilt or fear of her not believing him, his basic vocab always disintegrated. There were literally no words to express the dread and sorrow that hollowed out his chest. Better to not have a conversation period.

Tucked away in the dusty corner of Alex’s brain, was a locked chest of traumatic souvenirs. It was splitting at the seams, yet Alex continuously stapled the cracks closed. He ignored the splintering wood. Any day, the chest would finally collapse under the weight and Alex would be flooded with blood tinged memories. He concluded a conference with Bernadette over the phone would be the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Or, in this case, the very thing that protected Alex from the shitshow that was himself. Alex had spent months building that damn chest. He’d lost friends and proper vitamin D, but was still clinging onto a microscopic amount of sanity. He was alive at least. Breathing stuffy apartment air and with the diet of a broke college student, granted. But that was more than Greg and Sarah could say. 

His phone screen dimmed as he internally battled himself. He needed to talk to Bernadette, yes, but he was terrified. There was no danger in listening to his voicemail. Alex inhaled sharply as if he were about to be held under water as he tapped the message icon. He tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“What’s up, assclown! “ Bernadette’s recorded voice shouted into the receiver. Alex winced at her sharp volume, but chuckled regardless. 

“I know you’ve been avoiding me since you got back from where-ever-the-fuck, but that ends today. No more hiding out in that closet you call an apartment- time to get rolling, babbbby!” Alex shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Hearing her voice was a breath of fresh air. That feeling of lonely claustrophobia pressing on his chest faded slightly. Though, he was nervous for where this was heading. He pressed his lips into an anxious line.

“I don’t know what all went down over there, but it’s been months, man. You can’t keep this agoraphobe act up forever. That goes for that sonova bitch, Greg too.” Her laugh was soft, but still audible. Alex felt that familiar pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. God, she thought Greg was alive and avoiding her. Throat tightening around a baseball sized lump, Alex pressed his knuckles against his mouth. His knuckles were flushed hard enough that his teeth dug into his lower lip. 

“Did you guys decide you’re bigshots now? Cause, newsflash- that’s utter bullshit.” Bernadette must have meant for her tone to sound teasing, but the hurt was evident in her voice

“I’ve left Greg a fuckton of messages, but he hasn’t even opened my texts. If I didn’t know better, I’d be worried. But regardless, I know you’re back from Europe, so no excuses. Remember that show I do, the fuckin, uh, ghost hunting crap? Well, we’re down a camera and I thought you’d might be interested. Last time we spoke- which was, like, a century ago- , you said you needed a job, so… Here ya go, bud. It’s better pay than whatever you’re probably doing right now. Even if you don’t need a job, the least you could do is call me and tell me yourself. Just so I at least know you’re still breathing.” There was a beat where Bernadette paused to inhale quietly. She was right, though. Their last conversation was brief and impersonal. He offered the simplest explationations; the shoot was canceled due to creative differences and Alex was out of a job. As for what he yarn he spun for Greg, Alex didn’t recall. Probably some bullshit timeline where Greg was backpacking through Europe. 

Bernadette wrapped up her message with a final jab at Alex’s lack of communication skills. In a poor attempt to center his roaring thoughts, Alex rested his phone against his forehead. The guilt that was slowly swirling in his gut developed into a full on Tsunami. For a moment, he wondered if it was possible to drown in it. Alex no longer had the option. Bernadette deserved the truth, no matter how painful. 

More than that, Alex needed to get the fuck out of this place. His apartment had lost its safe haven appeal and felt more like a cage closing in on him. Whether or not he was prepared to handle a camera again was a different story. He didn’t resent the aspect of working with people again either. At one point, Alex very nearly achieved his dreams. It was still camera work, but he was more than likely rusty from his months-long hiatus anyway. He would have stood in his living room all day if he tried to debate why he should or shouldn’t take the job. This meant, on the other hand, calling Bernadette back. And eventually, he’d have to tell her that Greg was dead. How the fuck was he supposed to do that? Alex had survived an encounter with an actual blood-hungry witch, but his heart shuddered at the thought of Bernadette labeling Alex a lying ass and cutting him off completely. 

Finally, Alex worked up the nerve to press the ‘call back’ option. His eyes stung with unshed tears as his heart nearly beat out of his ribcage. Alex tightly squeezed his eyes shut. The third ring droned obnoxiously loud and Alex silently hoped she wouldn’t pick up. But when did Alex ever get what he wanted? There was a soft click, followed by Bernadette exclaiming that Alex was a fucker. 

“Good to hear your voice too, Bernie.” He shot for humor, but the tremble in his voice betrayed his bravado. Bernadette either failed to notice or was feeling generous. 

Before she had the chance to strike up small talk, Alex launched into action. “Is that job offer still on the table?”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[eurosong]

Undo my ESC

Good evening, folks! If you saw my first instalment of “Undo my ESC”, the annual feature where I make a year’s Eurovision better for me by making alterations in each country, you might have thought that ESC getting cancelled had dulled my edge, since, comparing to usual standards, I hardly changed much at all there. Well, that’s because, once again, we have seriously uneven semis, and Semi #1 would have been killer, whilst Semi #2 would have been dead. Here is what Í would have done to even those semis up! 🇦🇱 Albania: The Albanian delegation had seemingly done all it could to wash its hands of, well, two years of comparatively excellent results with authentic, melancholically poëtic and qualitative tracks, namely Malland Ktheju tokës. They brought in Byuckman, in whose interest it is for the contest to become as generically “radio-friendly” as possible, and the genius who brought us lyrics like “this is love/rain falls from above”. As judges. Of a serious musical festival. The foreign jurors did as expected, and voted for the appointed “bop”, but were foiled, however, by one of the minority Albanian jurors on the panel who put it  low in her ranks. An actual renowned music professor who got called all the names under the sun for doing so. And so, to an ensuing shitstorm, the classical and powerful Shaj prevailed instead. Unfortunately, the battle was won but the war was lost, because the representative herself took the lessons of 2018-9, threw them down the aeroplane toilet on the way to LA, and ripped the spirit out of the song, reverting back to the previous Albanian trend of terrible “revamps” and laboured translations into English. The result, Fall from the sky, is but a husk of the original. In my ESC, I’d probably simply keeping the original version of Shaj, which was my uncontested #1 of all songs, but part of me would opt for Ajër, which I love almost as well but which doesn’t carry the baggage of hanging over my head like the sword of Democles this entire season. 🇦🇲 Armenia: I’ve more often than not loved the entries of Hayastan, from the joyous Jan Jan to the soaring Fly with me and defiant Walking out. To say they took a step back this year is kind – it was more like a powerful jump backwards that landed them in the nearest ocean, where they sank like a stone. It was one of the most singularly unpalatable NFs that I have ever watched in this era. Rather than retraumatise myself by going into detail about it, I’ll just say, I would have sent Srbuk or Artsvik again to get the top 10 that I feel both warranted!

🇦🇹 Austria: What a journey for Österreich. From Conchita to this guy, a perky homophobe who explicitly said he wished his kids would not turn out to be gay. He comes up with a third-rate impersonator of a third-rate Benjamin Ingrosso impersonator’s third-rate impersonation of a Timberlake b-side. I would throw that in the bin and invite Pænda back from last year for a shot at redemption after her gorgeous Limits got slept on in 2019.

🇧🇬 Bulgaria: Some people had the neck to say to me “who needs Hungary when Bulgaria is coming back?” Well, I do. Hungary were constantly in the top of my rankings, and just quietly and consistently brought quality. Bulgaria has brought me one good thing – Poli Genova’s œuvre – and a tonne of hype. Their song this year was one of the favourites, and I still can’t wrap my head around how other than the force of PR. It’s a bizarre, unsettling combination of passive-aggressive “look how much you’re making me hurt myself” lyrics with Disneyish saccharine accompaniment, topped off with a key change?! For want yet again of a national final, I would bring Poli back – third time even luckier? 🇨🇿 Czechia: The Bohemians (and Moravians) keep it contemporary but superficial for a third year running, although, thankfully, for the first time since they began doing national finals, we finally have a song without a dubious attitude towards women in the lyrics. Not that there is much to analyse in those lyrics. It’s a merely ok song for me, no better, no worse: a superior alternative would have been Barbara Mochowa’s lush and contemplative second effort, White and black holes, or the glorious 90s British indie-influenced All the blood. 🇩🇰 Denmark: Did Denmark confound international monitors into calling it the world’s happiest country by exposing them to the relentlessly cheery songs that they pick for Eurovision lately? And yet – I really do say yes to Yes, To a certain extent, to a limited amount of exposure, and despite the fact that it leans a little too hard into the territory of sounding like a second Little talks. It was one of the few good songs from DMGP – I also liked the 80s shoegaze-ish Den eneste goth– and I feel so mad at DR that they won’t give Ben and Tan a guaranteed second shot to represent their country after they won in front of an empty crowd. 🇪🇪 Estonia: The days of Eesti being Beesti seem like from a distant memory to me, but there was some quality and quirkiness in Eesti Laul, buried under mountains of beigedom, like the rich-voiced Egert Miller’s soulful Georgia, the jazzy Write about me, or the feisty earworm that was Ping pong. Instead, we got a dreary dirge with sub-Hallmark lines about wot luv is, which would have sounded dated in a contest 30 years ago, sung by a repugnant guy who tried to get people to vote for him last year by leaning on the idea that he was the “only true Estonian.” I’d have Egert get his rightful place as Jüri Pootsmann’s spiritual successor. 🇫🇮 Finland: I was one of the few to be jubilant when a bizarre ode to an Italian porn star with a backing track sounding like a violated version of Eläköön elämä came second in the polls to its spiritual opposite: a shy and rather awkward guy singing a quietly moving song about the passing of time. I love Looking back and wouldn’t change a thing. 🇬🇪 Georgia: You never know what to expect from Georgia, except the unexpected, and yet even I was surprised by what they came up with: a close-shaven guy with veins popping in his head screaming “why don’t you love meeeee?” to a rocky, electronic backdrop. Me being me, I actually do like it a lot. “Take me as I am” sounds like a veiled potshot at the big 5 and a vindication of Georgia’s “keep it weird, send what we want” philosophy. I could suggest that the lyrics, that sound like those of a spurned angsty teen, change a bit, but that would be defeating the purpose of Georgia: one takes them as they are. 🇬🇪 Greece: So, somehow, despite S!STERS coming dead last with 0 pts in the televote last year, using exclamation marks to substitute the letter I is now a thing in Eurovision with the advent of Superg!rl. I spent an hour watching folk waffle on in Greek in its reveal show only for them to reveal the song literally at the very end, so after that, it was a little underwhelming, and nowhere near as good as Better love in 2019. I don’t hate it – and the music video’s concept of her being an amazing superhero who can change the world, but instead she’s stopping people slipping over bananas and rescuing cats from trees is weirdly endearing, so it can stay, but I’d improve the lyrics, particularly in the chorus. “I’m a supergirl, supergirl, in a crazy world, crazy world” is not much higher than “this is love, rain falls from above” in historically bad Greek lyrics at ESC. 🇮🇸 Iceland: Daði Freyr came back from near-victory with the delightful Is this love, added a lovely inspiration in his newborn daughter to a similarly funky and playful track, and came out with Think about things. Unlike what usually happens with songs that are a little bit odd, I was positively surprised to see it walk the NF, and become a phenomenon even outside the ESC fandom. This was perfect and joyous from beginning to end. I hope Iceland will not be like the other Nordics, and will invite Daði directly back .🇱🇻 Latvia: I have come to enjoy the bizarre chaötic energy of Still breathing, It’s a hot mess, but I take weird over dull any day. It wasn’t my favourite in Supernova – that would be the effortlessly cool Polyester, an earworm with a social conscience, written about the cost of fast fashion but dismissed by many people as “she luvs t-shirts song lol”. Given that Samanta Tina tried over half a dozen times to go to ESC, finally won and then had the chance ripped out of her hands by the cancellation, I don’t have the heart to remove her from my ideal ESC 2020 though. She stays, but maybe the staging changes? It’s odd to have what you believe is a feminist anthem but then relegate your backing singers to in the distance, their faces shielded away. 🇲🇩 Moldova: Life is too short to follow Moldovan national finals, especially when you know, lately, that whoever is backed by the hilariously inaptly named Dream team will win there. They are like a parasite, sucking out the colour and fun out of a country that once had plenty of both – cross-reference Hora din Moldova or Lăutar to name just two examples. I guess out of an uninspiring lineüp, I’d go for Moldoviţa for having at least a hint of the brassy folk that used to be their calling card. 🇵🇱 Poland: Speaking of calling cards, after a one year hiatus with an arresting combo of white voice and rocky instrumentation, Poland has returned to what it has most often done in recent years – presented us with an absolute dirge, Empires, which seems like it was written by an unenthusiastic English student whose homework assignment (for which they received a generous C-) was to write a poëm with a bunch of metaphors “we’re moths to a flame, birds to a pane of glass, gasoline and a match”. Despite having a big music industry from which to choose many gems, Poland offers me little alternative choice given that there were only three songs in their grand final – one by the Czech representative last year who, as you might guess from what I said literally a sentence up, isn’t even Polish!Horny Elf, who’s contractually obliged to write only creepy lyrics for songs, tried to represent Polska with a song inspired by a true-life situation where he went around Tel Aviv with a cardboard cutout of one of the hostesses of the show. It’s a love song inspired by gallivanting around with a piece of cardboard. Addressed to that actual hostess. And it’s an almighty earworm that hasn’t escaped my mind since. Amazingly, his Lucy would be my Polish representative. 🇵🇹 Portugal: Portugal is another country beloved by me by for dancing to the beat of its own drummer, or perhaps, rather shedding tears to the strumming of its own fado guitar. They struggled being different, they won being different, and for the last few years they’ve struggled again, despite having a lot of support for both O jardim and Telemóveis amongst fans. This year, the televote went for one interesting song, the charmingly Gallic, accordion-drenched Passe-partout, a song about a cultured girl shaking off her boorish ex who could “never even get into Piaf”, whilst the jury got behind another interesting song, Gerbera, an entrancing, arresting and poëtic song laden with metaphor about the idea of music competing itself. This let Medo de sentir,second in both polls, turn silver into gold. It’s a lovely, heart-felt track, but rather unexceptional - I would have had one of the other more singular songs win. 🇸🇲 San Marino: The weird boil on the face of ESC that somehow never pops, SM is back after its bewildering qualification with a tone-deaf dentist wailing to a microwaved disco song… with something actually palatable, sort of. The aptly named Freaky is dated, odd, overly busy, but Senhit has a lot of charisma, and the idea of “break[ing] all the rules, mak[ing] up some new [ones] and destroy[ing] all of them too” and “life goes by too quickly not to be freaking it up”, well, maybe we do get on board. 🇷🇸 Serbia: Serbia is usually a byword for quality at the contest – they won with one of the best 21st century winners hands down in Molitva, and also sent some of the most beautiful compositions in the contest’s history at the hands of Željko. This year, they decided to join in the leitmotif of reliable countries sucking by sending a group that sound like a third-rate mid-2000s girl band from Transnistria when beautiful songs like Cvet sa Prokletija were right there. 🇨🇭 Switzerland: Fair play to the Swiss for not doing a Cyprus and leaning in on their success with their male Fuego, She gat me, and instead going in a completely different direction with this moody effort. I’m not entirely convinced by the teenage emo-ish lyrics or the unnecessary falsetto, but Répondez-moi is a refreshing effort, and has the bonus of being in French too! And the automatic qualifiers: 🇫🇷 France: You’ve heard of France, right? You know, that wee country south of Belgium, north of Andorra, not much of a music industry… or so you’d think, given that the troolee jeenyuss new delegation, who abandoned their brilliant national final which showcased how diverse and qualitative their music scene is despite it being a huge success in the fandom, and instead reached out to the writer of last year’s last place song for the UK and a few other rentaswedes and they produced something that sounds like a b-side that not even Westlife would have recorded, replete with a stock key change. About as French as IKEA köttbullar. A real shame for one of Europe’s most highly esteemed cultural hotbeds. If they wanted to pick Tom Leeb, who seems like a nice guy and has written some lovely music, he could have made his own song and it would have indubitably been scores better than this. 🇪🇸 Spain: I’m going to apply this to all the automatic qualifiers voting on this semi-final: they scrapped a national final for this? OT was not an ideal format as last year demonstrated with its shit show of contestants sabotaging themselves so as not to get picked for ESC – but still. There’s not much I can say about this other than I don’t like it much and I’d rather Spain return to a proper NF. You don’t spend time trapped on a bus where this song with its torturous falsetto was on replay and emerge with fond feelings. 🇬🇧 United Kingdom: Usually, in this space, I can point to a song that the UK should have sent and that I fell in love with – like I wish I loved you more or You. Once again, though, another big 6 nation scrapped their NF after tanking it with a bizarre format last year. The BBC said nothing for months, then were unwilling to spend tv time on ESC this year so just blurted out an announcement of an announcement in  about 40 seconds after some dance show. And then they dropped this song. It’s… passable at best, with an annoying chorus (especially that beat in “my last… breath”) and a staggering amount of repetition in a song that clocks in at only around 80% of the standard Eurovision song length. James Newman surely could have come up with something better. It’s a baby step in the right direction, but one taken at the shore where you need to start running to avoid getting pulled away in a rip.

[hisimperialmajestyemperordawlove]

Motto: The Enteral States

Anthem: Ottoman imperial anthem The Imperial House of The World - United World 

H.I.M. Emperor Dawad 3 - H.I.M. Emperor Craig 1 - H.I.M. Emperor Anniversary 

Sun, Moon, Stars, Skys, Spaces, Plants, Earth, Nature & Educations. 

Anthem: Sun, Moon, Stars, Skys, Spaces, Plants, Earth, Nature & Educations. Here I go , here we go for my health that we are looking for. Here I travel, here we travel for my peace that we are looking for. Where ever I go I find myself, for Independent family we flying to the world. I recognize to do What I have to do freely with peace and helpful relationships of all times with care. Welcome Alternatively Empire You have A Unique Name to be Proud of Human Kind and Humanity it is Art of Life Development and to be Create Develop It's Government and always of United Nations Looking for. Generation May you reign European Ottoman Turkish long live our beloved country. For Sovereign's and Independence Country To be Welcomes Too. Long live our beloved continents. For Architecture & Beauty Civilizations. I will uphold the Crown Politically. For freedom is the absolute right of my ever-free flag Career. citizens emblem mega cities compass for individuals independence sister cities worth it nations. It's Economical & Cultural Too Geographical Sciences Foreign Affairs By Languages of Humanity. However Access to the seas & Oceans. Where ever shear Land Borders. It is all coming back to me now. Day By Day I find my way. long to reign above the peace in the homeland United world. Day By Day I find my way. long to reign above the peace in the homeland United world. Long live my Demonym Crown Earth in All Traveling Destinations With Respect & Greetings Ever Honored European. For My Passport & Identity That Much Appreciated & I Care About Like Honored Visa. Best Regards New Halfa And To The Others Cities. Thanks Istanbul. Thanks To All For Life With Peace! Republic of Turkey Let's Remind Who we are! And welcoming our family from the other countries so Welcome Sudan. Welcome Russia. Welcome Moldova. Welcome Spain. Welcome Philippines. Welcome Wherever who you are... With Regards Honored Golding Nubian. Let's Develop Our Right Honors Peacefully. And Respect Everyone Position! And You are Free. So Help Me God With Love of The People. So Save Me God With Love of My Families & People Every Times, Days, Months, Years And Centuries However We Been In This World As Well As Healthy. After All Let's Enjoy And Have Happiness Like We Are In Haven With Faith of Angeles. Faithfully of All. Without Any Kind of Disasters. With Regards And Peace To All Diversity. And We Are Free. It is Freedom House. And We Are Free. It's Sports! Let us enjoy.! In Addition Security Master protects your privacy Luxury Heritage English World. As United Nations Technologies. Include Fashion Anniversary of Happiness. Yes it's With Blonde Fashion Community As Choosing Ethnicity As Free Humanity. Wishes With Happiness Internationally. As New Day Has Comes. So Let's Travel Whenever Wherever As We Looking For And Enjoying Happiness. And Widen My World As European Peacefully Including My Widening Traveling Internationally As United World Peacefully United Nations Membership As Independently Families Overseas Territories Like Commonwealth Families House. Let's Call United Nations For Legislation In Different Areas Code. And My World Is Your World It's Our World As To Define A Peacefully United World. It is Treasures Monetary fund As It is My Pleasure. And Then There's Payment On The Trade Internationally As Currency Symbol. It's Regional So Happiness Integrated. And Universal To Postal Like We Like It. As Who is Working For Who? And We Are Free To Elect The Election's On The Right Positions As United Nations. According To Standards Time Zones As Earth Hours. It's Urbanization And Environment For Searching Weather Compass Meteorological Every Where We Go. As It is Leagues of The Nations Political Divisions As It Is Administrative Divisions Defined International Law. Constitutional Federal Subject of Political Act of The Unions. As It is Charter. As It is Autonomous International Community In Universities. Autonomous In Transportation's. So Welcome Cuisine. Perfect Healthier Wishes. Yes! We Love Our Continents. As Intergovernmental Organization Members of Native Our Independence Families States Countries. As It is Regards Missions. Nobel Travelers Emperors & Empresses In Continents Legend House of The World - United World. Guide.

[vadim222-blog]

Piloting above Moldova with Sergiu Cretu While visiting Moldova in July 2017, I joined a successful businessman, philanthropist and pilot Sergiu Cretu who to fly a lucky couple who hired the plane through Sergiu's company Moldova La Inaltime, to a southern Moldovian vineyard Et Cetera …

[tomsquitieri]

“Make Them Pay” — Putin, Ukraine and the Ticking Clock

By Tom Squitieri

WASHINGTON — Vladimir Putin is a man who feels like he is running out of time. That is a prime calculation being used by Pentagon officials as they plot ways to check and then checkmate the Russian leader’s eagerness to unload on Ukraine.

While each day brings new developments to the “will-he, won’t-he” question off Putin’s intentions, the Pentagon is using the threat to do what it has not been able to do before: ratchet up Ukraine’s defenses against a possible Russian attack to slow it and — if Russian prevails — make Moscow pay.

Thus, while diplomats lay down markers such as sledgehammer economic sanctions, Pentagon planners pursue pointed punches, punctures and perforations that will be 21st century versions of Word War One barbed wire.

The manta being whispered: “Make Them Pay.”

There are some obvious steps. Then there are the counter-intuitive ones.

Putin and his top aides have set deadlines for the U.S. and NATO to capitulate to his security demands. That actually gives the Pentagon the raison d'être to tell nervous members of Congress and others that they must act now to boost Ukraine and that any dithering will be destructive.

That is not a blank check it but certainly gives the Pentagon and NATO a credit line to operate with.

Pentagon officials say a prime invasion window would be between January 6 and March 6. That is after Orthodox Christmas and when the ground is at its frozen best for tanks and other heavy equipment.

First key is providing Ukraine with battlefield intelligence that could help its forces more quickly respond to a possible Russian invasion. In Pentagon parlance, this is known as  “actionable” intelligence, such as images of Russian troops were moving to areas for cross-border thrusts.  That gives a boost to Ukraine’s battle plans — and the Pentagon is fine with Putin knowing  that he faces sharper resistance.

That is one way to make them pay.

Also heading toward Kyiv are cyber warfare experts to shore up Ukraine buttress against the expected preemptive cyber attack as well as to possible retaliate.  Make them pay.

There is also a flow of defensive weapons; some are already in Ukraine and others quietly on the way. Ukrainian forces have very visibly started testing and training with Javelin anti-tank weapons. That training prompted another round of outrage by Russian defense officials.  As Stingers were to the Russians in Afghanistan Javelins could be in an Ukraine battlescape.

Already transferred to Ukraine billions of dollars worth of radars, patrol boats and anti-tank missiles. A U.S. military team recently traveled to Ukraine to assess the country’s air-defense network. The Pentagon is already gathering intelligence over Ukraine—and sharing it with the Ukrainians — and made a point to send E-8s and RC-135s aircraft to collect data.

Those plans generally are visible to the public only when they fly with their transponders on, meaning they appear on any of several flight-tracking websites. The Air Force could have ordered the crews to turn off their transponders for the mission. It didn’t. The mission was more than an effort to surveil Russian forces. It was a statement from the Biden administration to the Putin regime.

Make them pay, continued.

The U.S. is also set to help Ukraine build two naval bases, at Ochakiv on the Black Sea and at Berdyansk on the Sea of Azov. They will be two early flash points in a conflict.  Two U.S. Coast Guard patrol boats have been given to the navy.

There is another key element driving Pentagon make-them-pay calculations: Putin’s historic motives.

His last Ukraine invasion was extremely popular, giving him approval ratings above 80 percent following a longterm decline. He is playing a familiar card, saying Russians “compatriots” in Ukraine — and in Moldova and the Baltic states, and in Russian=controlled Kaliningrad — are being threatened and persecuted and need help from Moscow.

As a Swedish military commander noted, “You should never underestimate a country that has now built up their capabilities over time. Listen to their rhetoric, listen to their communication. It’s obvious that they do have ambitions. They also protect their long-term interests.”

Pentagon planners are certain that Putin is not going to be satisfied with just Belarus but seeks to reestablish as much of the old Russian empire as he can.

Unless they can be made to pay early and often.

(DoD photo)

[borisbubbles]

22. ARMENIA

Artsvik - “Fly with me”  18th place

What a difference a draw can make, huh?

When the  DREADFUL first semifinal aired and we were cloaked into the magenta light which preceded this Bollywood Björk, I thought that for a second, maybe, I had found my favourite of the year. The second time in a row for Armenia, fresh on the heels of ~LoveWave~ (aka the best lip-synching song in ESC herstory)

Evidently, judging by Artsvik’s position in my ranking, the above thought seems absurd NOW, but at the time it was the logical choice: Everyone else, with the exceptions of Moldova (who were OBVIOUSLY doomed and never finishing higher than 24th, come on now) and Portugal (whom I like more because of what they represent than for their actual song) were SO UNDERWHELMING.

However, once the finale rolled around and Armenia were set up in a crappy slot through a classic case of Christerriggage, I realized Armenia, too, were underwhelming, simply less so than most others. With that realization, their my love for them crumbled into forgettable also-ran territory and here we are.

That said, the singer is sooo aptly named for you can’t spell “Artsvik” without “art” and art is definitely what this song aspires to be. I say “aspires” because it doesn’t come quite near the Taken by a stranger/LoveWave/Love Injected trinity which still snugly occupy the upper eschelons of my 2010s ranking. It ranks the punch and pizzazz, the ying and the yang, the alpha and omega. “Fly with me” is like a distant cousin, the “On Stranger Tides” to their “Curse of the Black Pearl”; a good song in its own accord, but ultimately a pale imitation of the real thing.

In conclusion,

~one violet swallow doesn’t make the rain~

Decade rank: 158/324

THE RANKING SO FAR:

-ADORE- 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. -LOVE- 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

-LIKE- 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. Armenia (158/324) 23. Romania (164/324)

-OKAY- 24. Iceland (174/324) 25. Ukraine (190/324) 26. San Marino (203/324) 27. Albania (217/324) 28. Denmark (228/324) 29. Spain (237/324) 30. Cyprus (240/324) -DISLIKE- 31. Germany (258/324) 32. Montenegro (263/324) 33. Sweden (270/324) 34. Serbia (275/324) 35. Australia (280/324) 36. Switzerland (286/324) 37. Czech Republic (288/324) 38. Malta (291/324) -HATE- 39. Georgia (301/324) 40. Greece (303/324) 41. Slovenia (307/324) 42. Ireland (312/324)

[queensoybean0724]

Succession Chapter 2

Here is Chapter 2!  I hope y'all like it!

Title: Succession Chapter 2

Characters: female reader, Karl Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau, lycans, mentions of OC

Rating: PG-13 for images of gore, scenes of terror, possible kidnapping trigger warnings

Summary: You discover a long lost relative from Moldova has died and you are his sole beneficiary.  You are on board a plane to collect your inheritance when your plane crashes in a village in Romania.

Author’s Notes: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village.  This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It’s unusual how your senses come back to you when you regain consciousness after a trauma.  You couldn’t see at first or maybe it was that your hearing arrived before you opened your eyes.  It felt as if a pair of sound cancelling headphones were slowly pulled from your ears.  Then followed your sense of touch.  Blistering cold hit your skin and seemed to seep in and nestle into your bones.  It felt sharp and painful against your cheek as if someone were drawing a scalpel across your flesh.  Pain surged to the forefront and with that, you finally opened your eyes.

It was dark inside the cabin of the plane, the only light being the natural light shining through the damage to the hull.  The window next to you was shattered and you felt cuts along your arm.  The seatbelt had you secured to your seat and it was cutting into your stomach, adding to the all-over pain in your body.  The air mask was still secure over your mouth.  Lifting your hand shakily to remove the mask, you took in your surroundings.

The wind whipping outside the plane was the only thing you could hear.  You listened for the voices of any passengers, whether they be whispers, cries, or shouts for help.  It was as quiet as a tomb.

“Br-Bruce?” you whispered, looking towards his seat.  The darkened plane made you strain your eyes in order to see him.  His body was slumped away from you, his bottom half held still by his seat belt.  You slowly reached for him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards you.  His body slid against his seat before slumping towards you.  His eyes were open.  The air mask was over his mouth.  You pulled the mask from his head to see if he was breathing.  His mouth hung open.  He was dead.

“Oh god…” you whimpered, your body beginning to shake.  He was the only person you knew on this flight.  You didn’t know what to do or who to call out for.  “Hello?” you croaked as you lifted your head to look over the seat before you.  Your throat was scratchy and sore from the cold air.  “Can anyone hear me?  Help!!”  You were met with silence.  

Surely someone had to be alive.  You couldn’t be the sole survivor in this crash.  Reaching down for the clasp of the seatbelt, you pressed the button and released yourself.  You took one last look at Bruce’s lifeless body as you crawled over him and into the aisle.  “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him, running your hand over the top of his head.

The plane was a mangled mess, suitcases and bags strewn everywhere from the impact.  Bodies were in the aisle and tossed across seats and hanging over the armrests.  “Is anyone alive?” you asked in a raised voice.

You stepped over bodies and suitcases, holding on to the seats on either side of you.  The wind from outside blew into the cabin, blowing your hair around your face.  You were freezing and quaking from the cold.  The clothing you were wearing was not enough to keep you warm.  Thankfully, you remembered the flight attendants taking coats at the beginning of the flight and placing them in a small closet towards the front of the plane.  Finding the closet, you pried it open, finding the heaviest coat inside, and put it on.

Making your way towards an area that had been split open from the crash, you continued looking around for survivors.  You listened closely for any voices, hoping and praying that someone else had survived.

Panic began to set in once you exited the plane.  Snow coated the ground.  Trees stood gangly and devoid of leaves.  The clouds above were thick and vast, hiding any trace of sunlight.  You looked around for houses or buildings...for any signs of life.

You trudged around the debris, searching for a path or road that could lead to civilization.  The village that you had seen from the plane couldn’t be far from where the plane had crashed.  Maybe you could knock on doors and use someone’s phone to call for help.  Or the black box...every plane had a black box.  Surely someone had been notified that the plane went down or where it disappeared from radar.

You continued walking around the plane, looking high and low for anything.  The snow crushed under your shoes.  You slipped and fell a few times from icy patches under the snow.  Pulling the coat tighter around you, you shoved your hands into the pockets, rubbing your body to keep them warm.

As you were coming back around to where you had exited the plane, a noise came from inside.  Suitcases rustled and fell over and you heard an audible grunt. Oh thank god, you thought, someone is alive!  Perhaps someone finally regained consciousness and is trying to get out and get help.  You ran around the plane and peered inside.

A man was hunched over a body, his clothing tattered and torn.  He was pressing on the person’s chest, shaking the body, perhaps trying to perform CPR.

“Hey!” you called out to the man, your voice filled with hope and relief that you were not the only person that survived.  The man stopped and slowly turned towards you.  

What looked back at you was not the face of a survivor...or that of a human being.  Tousled hair laid in a tangled heap on its head.  The lips pulled back showing a row of jagged teeth.  The eyes were devoid of anything that could be described as a soul.  You listened as a low growl slipped from its mouth.  Its mouth and hands were covered in blood and only then did it dawn on you that it was not performing CPR...it was feasting on the body.

“What the fuck?!?” you yelped, falling backwards in the snow.  You scrambled away as the thing crawled from inside of the plane, advancing towards you.  It let out a loud bark and a snarl, its eyes absolutely feral.

You jumped to your feet, turning to retreat and let out a loud scream.  Two other things just like the one behind you blocked your escape.  They were equally as terrifying...eyes, claws, fangs, and tattered clothing.  What the hell were they??

You broke off to your right and ran towards the trees, hoping to lose them in the forest.  A loud howl sounded from one of them and the other two snarled deep in their throats.  Your heart was hammering in your chest as you ran as fast as your legs could take you.  Adrenaline pumped throughout your body.  You did not risk looking behind you for fear that it would hinder your escape.  

The sound of their feet running in the sloshy snow began to increase and you knew they were getting closer.  Oh god, oh god, they’re gonna kill me!

You saw a flash of something from the corner of your eye before feeling a large form shove into you and send you flying into a hill of snow.  Rolling onto your back, you looked as a fourth monster stood before you, drool dripping from its teeth.  It wrapped its hand around the tree next to it and stared you down.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!!” you yelled.  The other three that had been chasing you joined up with the fourth and you knew that you were no match for all of them.  Your heart beat wildly and you were frozen with fear, not knowing when they were going to pounce.  One of them lunged forward, its hand gripping your ankle.  As it leered over you, it let out a howl...and you screamed.

“Stop!” a voice sounded from behind the beasts.  All four creatures stopped and turned towards the voice, standing straight and obedient.  They parted and allowed the person to approach.

Person...the thing that approached you was not a person, but also was not like the feral animals that had been chasing you.  Your eyes went wide and your mouth dropped open as a hunchbacked figure started hobbling towards you and the creatures.  A large black cloak covered its body.  As it came closer, you noticed long, thin arms...a humped back with a rippled form...and thin legs that ambled slowly towards you.  The creatures watched the thing walk past them and closer to you.  The face was grotesque, jagged teeth sticking out from under gray lips.  The skin was pale and appeared sickly.  An intense odor of fish and sweat formed around it.  You had to breathe through your mouth to keep from gagging.

“Are y-you okay?” the thing asked, hobbling closer to you.  Panic and adrenaline still surged in your body and you crawled backwards to keep distance between the two of you.  He noticed and stopped, slowly lifting his hands in front of him.  “Don’t be sc-scared,” the thing stammered, “I won’t hu-hurt you.  And the lycans...won’t hurt...you ei-either.”

You looked back at the four monsters that stood behind the hunchback.  They stood still, snarling and breathing heavily.  The wind rustled the hair on their heads.  The thing before you took another step forward and held out his hand.  “My name...is...Salvatore Moreau,” he said, beckoning you to take his hand.  

You stood on your own, falling backwards a few steps in order to keep your distance.  Moreau whimpered and bent forward, taking a step back in order to respect your boundaries.  “I won’t touch...you...I don’t...w-want you to be...afraid of m-me…”  

His words made you lessen your defenses a bit.  He looked like a monster just like the wolf-like creatures behind him, but none of them advanced on you or tried to harm you.  You finally found your voice.

“I was in a plane crash,” you murmured, unsure of what to do next, “I don’t think anyone else is alive…”

Moreau looked back towards the wreckage and then over at the things behind him.  Upon seeing one of them covered in fresh blood, he turned back towards you.  “My lycans...sm-smelled fresh blood...they always run...towards...fre-fresh blood…”

You winced at the man’s deformed figure and his stuttered ramblings.  Who were these things?  Where the fuck were you?

“Can you help me?” you asked warily, taking a step towards him, “is there a phone? Can we call for help?”

Moreau bent forward in a coughing fit and retched.  Green vomit gushed from his mouth and into the white snow.  Steam rose from the vomit and you couldn’t stop yourself from gagging and putting your hand over your mouth.  He heaved a few more times before looking back at you.  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “the fish...and my body...they don’t get a-along…”

What the fuck is going on, you thought.  Was this an area that had fallen victim to radiation or poisoning in the water system?  You tried to calculate in your mind how far away you were from Chernobyl...maybe what was going on here was similar to what went on there all those years ago.

“The only...ph-phone is at Alcina’s castle…” Moreau continued.  

The castle?!  The castle that you saw from overhead?!  This was perfect! Maybe you could call for help and find your way to the embassy in this country and let them know that you were on a plane to Moldova.  Surely the airline will wonder why their plane did not touch down at its destination and come looking for survivors.

“Can you take me to the castle, Mr. Moreau?” you asked, the first ounce of hope shining through.

“What the fuck is going on over here?!?!?!”

A gruff voice sounded from behind the lycans and all of you turned towards the sound.  You watched as a man trudged through the snow, making his way over to the motley crew.  He wore a black wide brimmed hat and a long brown trench coat with a tan shirt and brown pants underneath.  A massive hammer sat across his shoulder with one hand gripping the long handle.  The man’s gaze went from each lycan to Moreau...and finally resting on you.

“Well...who do we have here?” the man asked, pushing his way past Moreau.  Upon closer inspection you saw that the man wore a pair of rounded lens sunglasses.  You heard the clang of metal hanging around his neck as he moved closer.  An amused smile spread across his mouth.  You cleared your throat audibly.

“My name is Y/N and I was on the plane that crashed a few yards that way,” you murmured, pointing back towards the wreckage.  Despite not being able to see his eyes from behind his sunglasses, you could feel his gaze.  It was piercing, searching...as if he could see deep inside of you.  It was equal parts unnerving and exhilarating, although you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

“Is that so?” the man asked, swinging his hammer around and setting it down in the snow.  He stepped in front of you, holding out his hand.  You kept your gaze on his face as you placed your hand in his.  “My name is Karl Heisenberg,” he greeted, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss on the back of it.  You shivered at his kiss,  not knowing what came over you.  It felt as if electrical charges flowed from his lips and down your skin, making your flesh erupt in goose bumps.

“Poor little pussycat,” Heisenberg remarked, looking you up and down, “the wreckage looks unbelievable.  You must be positively traumatized…”

You nodded your head and lowered your hand back to your side.  A gust of wind shook you to your core and you tightened the coat around yourself.  “Umm...yes...Mr. Moreau here was telling me that there was a phone nearby...we could call for help…”

Heisenberg slowly turned his gaze back towards Moreau.  You looked past him and saw that the deformed man cowered under Heisenberg’s gaze, taking a step backwards as if contemplating fleeing.  Heisenberg turned back to you and flashed you a reassuring smile.

“Of course, my dear,” Heisenberg said, reaching to pick up his hammer, “come with me and we will surely find aid and assistance in the village…”

“We could ask Mother…” Moreau began, taking a step towards you and Heisenberg.

“Shut up, you freak!” Heisenberg snapped at Moreau.  Your jaw dropped as you looked between the two men.  Moreau bowed his head and retreated a few steps.  You felt sorry for the poor man as you looked up at Karl Heisenberg and started to feel disdain for the man.  Moreau was about to offer advice and was met with hostility.  The poor man was not pleasant to look at, sure, but from what you could tell, he was harmless and seemed sincere and ready to help.  You would sooner ask for Moreau’s help than Heisenberg’s help at that point.

“Thank you, Mr. Heisenberg,” you began, “but Moreau was telling me of a phone in a castle not far from here that I could use…”  But as you were about to continue, Heisenberg held his hand up to silence you.

“Forgive me for my brash tone,” Heisenberg interrupted, “but my brother here does not know what he is talking about.  Please, if you would accompany me to my factory, I have a working telephone there that you can use…”

You felt a growing sliver of fear in the pit of your stomach.  The man before you was charismatic and confident, but there was something off about him.

“I think I’ll follow Moreau…” you murmured, moving around Heisenberg to go to Moreau.  A sudden movement and Heisenberg’s gloved hand wrapped around your arm, stopping your retreat.

“Oh, no, ma’am...I insist you come with me…” Heisenberg growled.

You tried to pull your arm from his grasp, but his fingers only tightened.  His grip began to hurt.  “Let go of me,” you said, trying to pull away.  He jerked your body closer to him as he looked down into your frightened face.

“There is no use arguing or putting up a fight, pussycat,” Heisenberg leered, “you’re coming with me…”  And with that, he released your arm and swiftly wrapped his arm around your waist, hauling you against him, and walked back from where he came.

“MOREAU!” you screamed as Heisenberg marched away with you in tow.  Heisenberg turned towards the man and shot him a murderous glare.  “You keep your mouth shut about this…” he spat at Moreau, “...not a fucking word or I’ll kill you…”  The hunchback only nodded and bowed his head.

“STOP!  LET GO!!  MOREAU!” you shouted, wriggling against Heisenberg’s grip on your waist.  The feeble man only stood there helpless, looking down at the snow.  His lycans began their retreat, disappearing into the forest.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Moreau whimper as Heisenberg dragged you off.

[socialistarchitecture]

: . light installations in the shape of flying saucers looking well above the PMAN scuare . . #insularmodernities #socialistarchitecture #sovietarchitecture #moldovanmodernism . #socialistarchitecture_moldova #urbanexplorer #modernismtour_moldova #sovmod #sovietmodernism #sovarch #modernismtour #modernism #publicspaces_chisinau #transformationofpublicspace #publicspace #urbanism_chisinau #urbantransformations #kishinev #chisinau . ©insularmodernities . (at Chisinau, Republic of Moldova) https://www.instagram.com/p/CPH27Tnlg-U/?utm_medium=tumblr

[while-my-tardis-gently-weeps]

Eurovision 2016 vs 2017

.So I’ve been re-watching Eurovision from past years to get me over my PED (Post-Eurovision Depression), and I thought I’d do a comparison of this year’s songs against ones from last year, inspired by Eurosong’s post here.

Here goes:

Albania: Fairytale vs World - To be frank, I’m rather ambivalent on both songs, but I went with “World” because of Lindita’s incredible voice.

Armenia: LoveWave vs Fly with Me - Armenia always does well, and it’s not hard to see why, looking at these two songs. Neither are really my cup of tea, but I connected a bit more with “LoveWave.”

Australia: Sound of Silence vs Don’t Come Easy - Isaiah did his best, but not many can compete against the vocal tour de force that is Dami Im, and Isaiah certainly isn’t one of them.

Austria: Loin d’ici vs Running on Air - Even though both songs are quite average, the decision between the two songs are actually quite easy for me because I was completely won over by Nathan Trent’s charm, charisma, and sheer enthusiasm. And that music video, now that’s just cheating. Scenery porn at its best. 

Azerbaijan: Miracle vs Skeletons - DiHaj wins this hands down. It’s contemporary, edgy, catchy, and modern (albeit slightly marred by mystifying elements in the staging; still don’t know what the horse head is all about). Miracle, on the other hand, is, I’m sorry to say, just boring. 

Belarus: Help you fly vs Historyja majgo zyccia - This one is another no-contest: Naviband of course, undoubtedly. Not only was it sung in Belarusian, it’s also a little piece of absolute joy condensed into around 3 minutes of music. As for Ivan’s “Help you fly,” there’s something wrong with the whole production if the only memorable thing about it is the outlandish gimmick. 

Belgium: What’s the pressure vs City Lights - Perhaps against common sense, I’m going to call this a draw. I appreciated City Lights for being a contemporary song with a distinct sound, one that is completely unlike the usual Eurovision fare, but I also thought it was vastly overrated. My regard for “City Lights” only decreased further after I saw live performances of it because there’s not much stage presence and charisma to speak of coming from this one, really. On the other hand, “What’s the Pressure” might be beyond dated, but Laura’s confident, lively performance definitely made it a lot more enjoyable to sit through than, if I dare say, this year’s “City Lights.” Now, if Eurovision were a radio show, the result might be quite different but as it is, I’m for “City Lights” in terms of the song alone and “What’s the Pressure” in terms of the whole package. 

Bulgaria: If love was a crime vs Beautiful Mess - Another hard one, but this one because both songs are so good and well-deserving of their high placings. I like both, really, but I love “If love was a crime.”

Croatia: Lighthouse vs My Friend - “Lighthouse,” definitely. Mad respects to Jacques for pulling off those Jekyllesque vocals,  but “Lighthouse” is definitely the better song, both objectively and subjectively speaking. 

Cyprus: Alter Ego vs Gravity - The latter, but only barely. Possibly because “Gravity” is more recent and I remember it slightly better as a result. 

Czechia: I Stand vs My Turn - Both are quite dull, but I found Gabriela to be the better singer.

Denmark: Soldiers of Love vs Where I Am - Do I have to chose between 90s boyband raised from the dead and every single X Factor winner song ever? Okay, Anja’s the better singer so I guess it goes to her. 

Estonia: Play vs Verona - The former for sure. It’s not increasingly grating upon each repeated listen, for one. 

Finland: Sing it away vs Blackbird - I still have extremely strong feelings about Norma John’s non-qualification. Gorgeous song, excellent vocals, dark, atmospheric staging, they’ve done everything right. I just don’t get it. Last year’s NQ, on the other hand, was only to be expected. 

France: J’ai cherché vs Requiem - The French delegation definitely knows what it’s doing, choosing two stellar Nazim Khaled songs in as many years. Both are great songs, but personally I’m a lot more partial to Alma’s “Requiem.” Especially the lyrics: “Des amours meurent, des amours naissent/Les siècles passent et disparaissent/Ce que tu crois être la mort/C’est une saison et rien de plus (Love dies, love is born/Centuries pass and disappear/What you believe to be death/Is nothing but a season).” Just exquisite. 

Georgia: Midnight Gold vs Keep the Faith - I hate myself slightly for choosing “Midnight Gold” really, because that was 3 minutes of my life that I can’t get back. Unfortunately, not much more can be said for “Keep the Faith,” despite my respect for Tamara’s vocal prowess, and at least the former sounds a little different...? 

Germany: Ghost vs Perfect Life - At least nothing about Levina and “Perfect Life” is absolutely offensive to me, which is a lot more than I can say for the former, starting with the bargain sale Kyary Pamyu Pamyu imitation fashion. If anything, parts of “Perfect Life”’s lyrics actually quite tickle my fancies. 

Greece: Utopian Land vs This is Love - I don’t like either, but Utopian Land gets some brownie points for being different. And those high notes in the live version of “This is Love” is just tragic. 

Hungary: Pioneer vs Origo - I love both songs, but went for “Origo” because of the use of Hungarian, the unique sound, and the emotional delivery. I still wish he did away with the rap section though.

Iceland: Here them calling vs Paper - Both lovely songs that I wished I could have seen in the finals. I connected with the latter song more though.

Ireland: Sunlight vs Dying to Try - Nothing to remember whatsoever vs. average song that is nonetheless memorable because of Brendan Murray’s unique voice (though not necessarily favorably so). But hell, Brendan nailed those notes during his performance in the Semi so kudos to him I guess. 

Israel: Made of Stars vs I Feel Alive - “Made of Stars” by a country mile. Hovi Star’s soulful performance was mesmerizing, whereas I still think Imri got through largely because of the running order. 

Italy: No degree of separation vs Occidentali’s Karma - Italy is my favorite Big 5 nation, and one of my favorite countries overall in Eurovision. They’ve always sent outstanding entries since their comeback, and the past two years were no different. I have great love for both songs and both singers, but that said, this one is actually one of the easiest decision to make out of this whole list. In fact, “Occidentali’s Karma” is my favorite out of all the songs from both years. The combination of catchy pop tune and deep, philosophical lyrics offering commentary and satire on Western materialistic lifestyle and cultural appropriation puts it leagues above most of the songs in this set. 

Latvia: Heartbeat vs Line - “Line” doesn’t stand a chance against the great Aminata, especially when you add Justs’ passionate performance to it (he’s no Aminata either, but he’s still pretty good). 

Lithuania: I’ve been waiting for this night vs Rain of Revolution - What happened to you, Lithuania? How did you go from the glorious Donny to...I don’t even know how to describe this? If I wanted to see Pikku Myy in Eurovision I would have gone for Elina Salo, thank you very much. 

Macedonia: Dona vs Dance Alone - I guess, because Kaliopi is a much better singer.

Malta: Walk on water vs Breathlessly - Because I actually remember how the song from last year goes. 

Moldova: Falling Stars vs Hey, Mamma! - Sunstroke Project wins this hands down. It’s a simple song, but what a enjoyable one, and what a performance! Congrats to them for giving Moldova its best placing in the finals.

Montenegro: The Real Thing vs Space - Surprise, surprise. What can I say though? The guy at least has guts for donning helicopter braids. 

Netherlands: Slow down vs Lights and Shadows - Objectively speaking, I actually think “Slow down” is probably the better song of the two, but I despise country music and always had a soft spot for well-done vocals (being a huge choir geek myself), which the latter has in spades with their stunning harmonies. 

Norway: Icebreaker vs Grab the Moment - I love both songs, and I’ve always been partial to the Norwegian entries ever since I was introduced to Eurovision with Alexander Rybak’s “Fairytale.” I’m quite close to calling this another draw, really, but I’m in a more “Grab the Moment” mood today.

Poland: Color of your life vs Flashlight - Both are average songs (though the former’s lyrics are a lot less dire), but Michal sells it a lot better with his emotional performance and gothic-chic style. I still quite like Kasia’s voice, though. 

Romania: Moment of Silence vs Yodel It! - I’ve only listened to the studio version of the former, but I think “Yodel It!” wins this round. Listening to it always make me happy, and you’ve got to give them credit for making the unholy combination of yodelling and rapping work, and work well on top of that. 

Russia: You are the only one vs Flame Is Burning - I’ve got to admit, I was kind of pleased that I didn’t have to sit through “Flame Is Burning” with the travel ban and everything. Now, let’s hope Russia wasn’t serious when they said they are sending it to Portugal next year... On the other hand, while “You are the only one” is very dated as a song in and out itself, Sergey and the Russian production team definitely performed the hell out of it.

San Marino: I didn’t know vs Spirit of the Night - Because “I didn’t know” is slightly more tolerable. 

Serbia: Shelter vs In Too Deep - Another easy pick. “Shelter” is both local and contemporary, and carries a message that packs an emotional punch and connects with you on a humanitarian level. 

Slovenia: Blue and red vs On My Way - Because “Blue and red,” while average, is at least not annoying.

Spain: Say yay! vs Do It for Your Lover - Surely this one requires no commentary or explanation? Just give each song a listen.

Sweden: If I were sorry vs I Can’t Go On - Time to be honest: I hated both songs upon first listen. The thing is though, “If I were sorry” actually grew on me little by little, to the point that now I’m only ambivalent about it, whereas “I Can’t Go On” simply got worse with each repeat. 

Switzerland: Last of our kind vs Apollo - Timebelle wins this hands down, even after they traded the gorgeous red dress and classy staging of the national finals with that bizarre Belle meets Big Bird meets Hercules eyesore. Now, I actually do think I would have liked “Last of our kind” a lot were it sang by a more competent singer, but Rykka’s vocals were grating at best. And the less said about those weird movements she made on stage, the better.

Ukraine: 1944 vs Time - Heartfelt ballad that touches you to the core vs clear sign Ukraine doesn’t want us back next year, to borrow Graham Norton’s words? No contest here. 

United Kingdom: You’re not alone vs Never Give Up on You - If you asked me this question before rehearsals started, I would have said “You’re not alone,” hands down. But Lucie Jones (and the BBC production team) made “Never Give Up on You” shine, to the point where you (almost) forget it’s nothing more than a paint-by-numbers ballad that’s been done to death already. 

The Tally:

Class of 2016 - 21 vs. Class of 2017 - 20 (1 draw not included)

[firstbusinessflights]

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[eurosong]

ESC 2018 vs 2019 - Semi-final 2

Good afternoon, folks! A few days ago, I took a look at the songs of Eurovision 2019’s first semi-final, comparing them with songs from the same countries in 2018 and sharing my verdict on which year was better and why. Now it’s the turn of semi-final 2! Again, I try to see as much good as possible in each song and I mean no offence to anyone who disagrees with these opinions. 

·        Albania – 2018 – Albania had always been a bit of a bête noire for me at this contest, because they would so often pick fabulous songs at their long-running Festival i këngës national final, only then to completely mutilate them musically and (with the help of Bing translator, lyrically) in the revamp. Last year, that trend hopefully came to an end in the most glorious fashion when Eugent Bushpepa didn’t make any major change to Mall, one of the songs that most impressed me in this era, a soaring, moving, poëtic cri de cœur of a song. This year, they have also opted to neither translate nor musically mutate. I like their 2019 song a lot, but it’s a Scafell Pike to last year’s mighty Everest.

·        Armenia – 2019 – as a glossophile who always advocates the use of national languages over English, I have some respect for Qami, the only song Armenia ever sent entirely in their language. Respect, but no love, because I found it merely ok and rather repetitive. I thought this would be a second year in a row that I’d be underwhelmed by Hayastan, but whilst this year’s offering cannot shape up to the majestic Fly with me, it’s become an earworm and I enjoy the fiery defiance of Srbuk’s lyrics and the incorporation of traditional instrumentation into something otherwise decidedly contemporary.

·        Austria – 2018 – I seem to be one of very few people rating this year’s gentle, stripped-back but impassioned Austrian entry. It more than tilts its cap in the direction of Kate Bush, but I am down with that. However, it would really take some doing to beat last year’s Austrian song, Nobody but you, in my estimations – a worthy winner of the jury vote and probably the ESC’s best ever gospel-infused song for my money.

·        Azerbaijan – 2019 – I’m not as won over by this Azeri effort as many people that I know. I was expected something rather different from their snippet (a word I wish I will never hear again given the amount of them this year). It’s not bad by usual standards though, and is certainly a class above Delete My Heart and its bizarre computer-generated lyrics last year.

·        Croatia – 2018 – Last year’s Croatian song was a rather lame reimagining of Sam Brown’s Stop. I didn’t like the original and I sure didn’t fancy the semi-skimmed version that much either. Having said that, Franka, all is forgiven. Your song is a delight compared to the demonic screeching of this young budding ego ironically wearing (fluffy) angel wings. I thought Jacques Houdek had unleashed enough hell with his Maa fwenn/Moy frennddd but it was nothing compared to this abomination. It’s so bad that it almost scares me how bad it is.

·        Denmark – 2019 – Another one where I go against the grain is Denmark. I never got the hype for Rasmussen, whose song sounded like a soundtrack for some 90s direct-to-video movie about Vikings. The only thing is that they managed to make even Vikings feel lame. It all seemed a little OTT and gimmicky to me, and the amount of repetition and the cliché pitch shift both annoyed me. On paper, this hyper-sweet Danish song should also grind my gears, but in a subpar year, I’ve actually grown a fondness for it. Maybe the Frenchness of it all was what won me over. I hope they’re not actually going to sway side to side on a big chair in the actual final, though.

·        Ireland – 2018 – Two decent songs in a row from Ireland and it’s difficult to choose between them, even though neither set my world alight. I still think the staging of last year was rather cynical – two enamoured lads who had little to with the song about heartbreak, but did seem to win over some folk who otherwise would have dismissed it as a boring ballad. Seeing it live, it was quite moving, and I was able to put this incongruousness out of mind. This year’s entry has rather less artifice and a low-key charm, but I have to go for ’18 as having more depth as a composition.      

·        Latvia – 2018 – Despite never having reached the heights of Aminata who pulled them up from the non-qualification doldrums, I’ve enjoyed every subsequent song from Latvia, even though the standards of Supernova have dropped since the Riga Beaver stopped delighting us in the ad breaks. This year’s Latvian song is delightfully low-key, the kind of thing I imagine hearing on the radio late at night, driving in the rain. At the minute, though, I have to say I still prefer the sultry, tempestuous Funny Girl – though Esam­iba would have topped both.

·        Macedonia – 2018 – Macedonia, perhaps the country at the contest who least has received their dues despite some excellent songs, is a perfect illustration of how difficult these 2018 vs 2019 choices can be. Their entry this year, “Proud”, is touching and impactful on first listen, but I’ve seldom sought out to listen to it much since then. On the other hand, I was absolutely obsessed with last year’s “Lost and found”, bewitched by its changes in style and tempo. Unfortunately, the live version of 2018 was an absolute clusterfuck; it felt as though someone had been deliberately tasked with ruining their qualification chances, and that casts a shadow over the song in retrospect. I wouldn’t be surprised if 2019 is a more effective song on the stage, but for the time being, I prefer 2018 musically.

·        Malta – 2019 – There is absolutely no contest here for me. This is the first song sent by Malta that manages to hold my interest since “Tomorrow” way back in 2013. It’s more daring and contemporary than I ever imagined would be their choice. In a different universe from the screechy “Taboo.” It’s also refreshing to have a Maltese song that doesn’t try to get brownie points from their message.

·        Moldova – 2018 – A truly plague vs cholera choice. 2018’s bizarre Kirkorov-spawned ode to the ménage-à-trois versus this year’s painfully, painfully dull ballad-by-numbers with rhyming-also-by-number (rhyming say with stay, never with forever. Troolee jeenyuss.) I have to go with 2018, which creeped me out, but at least was kind of interesting in its own weird way, and its staging showed ingenuity despite limited resources.

·        Netherlands – 2018 – I’m sure for a lot of people, this choice is a no-brainer, but for me, it is very much a difficult choice. I really loved “Outlaw in ‘em”, Waylon’s country style is up my street and, whilst I still think “Thanks or no thanks” would have been a cannier choice, I appreciated one of the few moments last year in which one could rock out. “Arcade” is a different beast entirely, so comparisons are odious. Both are stirring, but OIE is riotous and defiant, whilst Arcade is poignant. It’s hard to choose just one, but I have to go for the one I’m more likely to have on repeat, last year’s song.

·        Norway – 2019 – Oh, Norway. For a few glorious years, with Margaret Berger, Karl Espen and then especially Mørland, they were the coolest thing going out of the Nordics – but how the mighty have fallen. I haven’t really liked a single one of their entries since then and once again, I am faced with a choice between two unsavoury options. Their entry this year sounds like Aqua went into the woods for a spiritualistic retreat, came back, wrote a shitty b-side about the experience and then decided not to release it, only for some Norwegians to find it about 20 years later and pass the song off as their own. Everything about it makes me cringe on an almost existential level. It appals me that the “come on barbie, let’s go pardy”-style joiking is being compared to JHF who actually representing joik in a classier way. I say all this, and yet, this year’s offering is still not ás bad as 2018’s “That’s how you write a song”, a “children’s TV show theme” song whose cosmic irony would be funny were it not so tragic.

·        Romania – 2018 – I didn’t think this would be such a tough decision when I found out the results for Selecţia Naţionala, and was absolutely amazed that the public had only 1/7th of the result, and that the juries had catapulted a song that only picked up 3% of the televote (Laura Bretan, the televote winner, got a 42% share, in contrast) on the back of a rather dubious live performance. I’m still not sure why Ester puts on a vocal affectation that makes her sound like she’s having a tantrum, but somehow the song’s dark ambiance and the hilarious video won me over. It still can’t compare to last year’s emotional, underrated effort which brought to mind departed friends.

·        Russia – 2019 – Sergey’s return is a little pompous and will certainly be wrapped up with unnecessary staging frills; that being said, it’s a decent song, which is more than I can say about the truly ghoulish “I won’t break,” whose only virtue for me – being slightly better than the hideous and ungrammatical “Flame is burning” – was removed when I saw that impossibly bad staging, confining their singer almost embarrassedly into the background.

·        Sweden – 2019 – For the first time in a few years, Sweden have sent an artist and song that I don’t find completely objectionable. That isn’t to say that I don’t find any objection at all – soul is not really soul when it is so heavily manufactured, and I cannot help but feel that they’ve taken more than a fair amount of inspiration from both Austria of last year and Bulgaria of 2016. Nonetheless, I can bear it a lot better than Dance you off.

·        Switzerland – 2018 – For once, I actually had a little bit of hope for Switzerland, who have been going through the motions with some turgid fare for the last number of years, with the only exception for me being Hunter of Stars. Going internal made me feel they had something exceptional, and I guess they thought they did, but for me, instead they brought a thinly veiled male take on Fuego and little more. Last year’s effort also didn’t impress me much, a dirgey bit of trust fund faux-rock (frock?), but I’ll take it over the Chernobyl levels of radioäctive smugness exuded by this latter Swiss attempt.

And as for the automatic qualifiers:

·        Germany – 2018 – When I heard that Barbara Schöneberger, she of the eyes that are bigger than Lake Baikal and seems permanently traumatised, was coming back after a year’s absence as host, I joked that I was amazed she was given back the gig given that every year she’s been in charge, there’s been an abject failure and the one edition where she was absent, Germany managed to get a fantastic result. I feel they’re back to their losing ways with Sister, a song performed by a group called S!sters who have only known one another for a few months if that. It’s one of many songs this year with decent verses but a horrible chorus. It’s supposed to be a celebration of sisterhood, but it feels moreso like these two want to scratch the other’s eyes out whilst they stand there, wailing at one another. There were things that annoyed me about last year’s German entry too, particularly the large section in which he merely said “whoahaoaoaoa” as if he’d run out of ideas for lyrics, but it was otherwise a stellar, well-written effort. In another league to these imaginary sisters.  

·        Italy – 2019 – Italy is one of the very few countries where I prefer 2019 to 2018, 2018 to 2017, 2017 to 2016 and 2016 to 2015! They just get better year on year. I adored “Metamoro” and still consider their song a huge highlight, one of the best of last year and of recent years. It’s incredibly difficult to choose between them and Mahmood’s Soldi, but he somehow managed to win me over even more with his anthemic, autobiographical song which has a contemporary edge but also the timelessness and quality of San Remo orchestral compositions. My number one this year so far.

·        UK – 2019 – Eurovision: You Decide got even drearier than usual this year. Whilst other countries like France increased the number of songs from which their viewers could choose, BBC cut their choices down to three, got two sets of people to perform each song in a different style pastiche and then didn’t even allow the viewers to choose which rendition they preferred. We ended up with a bog-standard “X factor winners’ single”-style song that SVT told John Lundvik not to perform for them. It has the edge because it at least “hey muvva, bruvva” lyrics or random Casio noises in the background like Surie’s song. She really deserved more.