#leo schulz

[graphicpolicy]

SelfMadeHero present A Comical Eye on British Monarchy, a fold-out fun new way to learn about Britain's Kings and Queens

SelfMadeHero present A Comical Eye on British Monarchy, a fold-out fun new way to learn about Britain's Kings and Queen #comics #comicbooks #graphicnovel

Need a brush-up on royal history before The Crown series  6 ends? Ideally via a convenient, single-sheet, poster-sized booklet? The Comical Eye’s British Monarchy booklet hits the US on December 5, 2024! As fans of Netflix’s The Crown watch the last season ever, just how much do we know about the history of the monarchs?  For example: Which kings couldn’t speak English, or stammered when they…

[itxithingsrp]

—— 𝑨𝒎𝒆𝒏!

—— Very nice.

—— He was 𝗽𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 to the 𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒈𝒐𝒅𝒔.

[shinsui-f-works]

Help!For Japan 2012. I've written several times on Instagram and Facebook, but I only discovered FAIR WARNING in January this year.

Why now? You might ask.

The reason for this was that music was not particularly important in my life.

････Until I heard FAIR WARNING.

So I also learnt this year that Tommy Heart organised a charity for Japan and released this song with other artists just after the Great East Japan Earthquake 13 years ago.

Osaka, where I live, was not affected at this time.

But I have experienced a fire once.

At that time I was helped by my neighbours and was very moved by the help I received from others.

Disasters are very frightening and not something I want to experience too often.

However, it is in these times that we can help each other, strengthen our bonds with others and feel grateful to them.

We Japanese were very happy to have been helped and encouraged by Tommy Heart and the other artists who participated.

It's long overdue, but I made this video to thank Tommy and all the wonderful artists who took part in this charity.

Original Song by Jaded Heart

（thank you to Mr.P.F for teaching me this.）

Video editing by @shinsui_f_works

[the-funny-kalli]

Ich hab eine Crossover Idee

stellt euch mal folgendes vor

Spatort x Wilsberg

Leo sagt Rainer bescheid, er braucht seine Hilfe aber Rainer kann nicht sofort kommen und schickt stattdessen seinen besten Mann, nämlich Ekki Talkötter (vom Wilsberg)

Ekki muss dann von Münster nach Saarbrücken fahren und als er das Georg Wilsberg erzählt sagt er "ich komm mit, in Saarbrücken war ich noch nie" (so komplett Wilsberg like, "du hast eh keine Wahl Ekki")

Anna Springer und Overbeck sind dann aus Zufall gerade in Saarbrücken für eine Polizeiliches Meeting und treffen Ekki und Wilsberg zufällig als die beiden wieder auf eigene Faust ermitteln

Ich stell mir das dann so vor das Wilsberg sich wieder einmischt und Ehster das völlig auf den Zeiger geht, Pia es lustig findet, Leo es toleriert aber nicht gut findet und Adam voll hyped ist weil er Wilsbergs ermittlungsstyle toll findet.

Wilsberg und Adam werden dann so n Art Ermittler duo und Leo und Ekki auch aber natürlich auch alle zusammen

Was nur schwierig ist da Ehster Ekki und Wilsberg vorallem nicht leiden kann, aber es sind ja noch Anna und Overbeck mit dabei die werden nämlich involviert weil Wilsberg auf die Gloreiche Idee kommt Anna könnte ihnen helfen da sie ein paar Kontakte in Saarbrücken hat.

Anna findet alle vom Spatort bis auf Adam kompetent und Ehster kann gut mit Anna weil beide skeptisch über das Wilsberg-Adam duo sind.

Overbeck hat sich in Ehster verschossen und versucht ihr immer zu imponieren doch vergebens sie bleibt weiterhin uninteresiert an ihm doch Pia wird etwas eifersüchtig.

Dr. Teresa Tilker dürfen wir natürlich auch nicht vergessen, sie hat einen Mandanten von einem befreundeten Anwalt übernommen, und dieser Mandant ist der verdächtige in der Mordermittlung vom Spatort Team, deshalb ist sie ebenfalls in Saarbrücken und klärt am Ende mit allen zusammen auf das ihr Mandant nicht der Täter war sondern reingelegt wurde

kurz vor Ende, der Fall ist aufgeklärt und alle sitzen beim Chinesen am Tisch und wollen essen doch sie müssen noch warten denn Rainer soll noch kommen.

Die Tür geht auf, die frische Luft von der Straße vermischt sich mit dem Geruch von gebratenen Nudeln und Frühlingsrollen und in der Tür steht Rainer von der Steuerfahndung ((Florian David Fitz)er hat keinen Nachnahmen) mit Karo-Hemd und Multifunktions-Jacke in Grün, einer leicht verwaschen Jeans mit akkurat sitzendem Gürtel und Treking-Wander-Schuhen von Geox mit Gummizug in Blau mit Gelb. Seine Frisur schreit förmlich "ich arbeite bei der Steuerfahndung" (Firsur von Jonas Schulze?(Die Discounter)) und auf seiner nase ruht eine eckige brille ohne Rahmen, es ertönt ein solides und freundliches "Moin, ihr habt dat ja och allet ohne mich jeschafft" (er vermsicht liebend gerne dielakte aus ganz Deutschland) er geht zu Leo und Ekki und begrüßt sie Brüderlich, stellt sich allen einmal vor und reicht jedem vornehmen die Hand. Bevor er sich setzt sagt er "ach waddet ma" und zieht aus seiner Multifunktions-Jacken Tasche einen Kniderigen Zettel und reicht ihn zu Ekki, Ekkis Blick erstarrt und er reicht es zu Leo weiter und er erstarrt ebenfalls, so geht das rei um bis zu Ehster (sie ist die letzte in der Reihe) die ihren Kopfschüttelt und mit ihrer hand durch ihr Gesicht fährt "wenn wir das gleich gewusst hätten.....dann hätten wir uns so viel Arbeit ersparen können" (auf dem Zettel ist ein eindeutiges Indiz das Tilkers Mandant unschuldig ist und ein Hinweis auf den wahren Täter) Rainer zuckt nur mit den Schultern "ich konnte ja leider nicht früher kommen und Ekki du weißt doch dat einzige wat ich kann is sachen faxen und du meintest ja noch das du dein Fax jerät ja nicht überall mithin nimmst....(kurz stille) sonst hätt ick dir dit ja gefaxt.....aber der Herr meint ja es wäre zu umständlich sein Fax jerät immer mit auf Reisen zu nehmen"

Alle lachen und essen und am Ende gibt es noch eine tolle Glückskeks scene (hab nur leider keine Idee)

Ihr könnt die Idee frei nutzen und gerne eine FF dazu/damit/darüber schreiben aber bitte Markiere mich und schickt mir die FF zu ich würde die dann gerne lesen

Und ja ich hab das alles im warte zimmer meines Hausarztes geschrieben ☺️

[genz420]

Their Favourite reality TV show 📺

Masterlist | Rules

Content: Their Favourite reality TV show

Warning: None

Pairing(s): None

Character(s): Percy, Jason, Frank, Leo, Annabeth Piper

Percy Jackson

Below Deck

Specify Below Deck Mediterranean season 3

I feel like he would be a Hannah fan

Would def think he could be a deckhand

Lives for the drama that happens on the show

Def has his fav each season

Jason Grace

Keeping up with the Kardashians

He isn’t afraid for people to know

Khloe is his fav sister

Loves the earlier seasons more then the later seasons 

Frank Zhang 

Border Security: Canada's Front Line

As a Canadian I know that whenever Canada is mention in media we go crazy

But when your province is mention it is a whole other level 

Loves watching the mail centre clips

Leo Valdez

Storage Wars

Def thinks he could talk that fast

He can’t

His favorites are Jarrod Schulz & Brandi Passantes

Would convince Piper to go with him to to buy a locker 

They lost a lot of money that day

Annabeth Chase

Not a reality TV show but I get the vibe that she would like watch How’s It Made

Would be the type of person to put it on in the background to fall asleep to

I feel like Annabeth would be the type of person to just have tv on in the background while doing other things

Not the type of person to sit down and actually watch a show

Piper Mclean

Bondi Rescue 

Doesn’t matter what you like

Watching Australian lifeguards is fun 

She would watch clips of it on Youtube 

Loves the videos of them removing people on the beach

Ends up talking in an Australian accent for a good week

Her favourite lifeguard would be Chappo or Maxi

Maybe even Harries 

Thinks she would be immune to getting in a rip

And you know what I think she is

Would def plan a trip just to go to Bondi Beach

[brynnterpretations]

Forever Needing, Forever Reaching

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What the fuck happened to you, Jack?" ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack wasn't sure, except for the fact—once speculation, but now a glaringly obvious, nice, Midwestern "fuck you"—that he was indubitably, undoubtedly crazy.

🔗 Read on AO3

⌗ jack delroy/madeleine piper ⌗ jack delroy/june ross-mitchell ⌗ grief/mourning ⌗ substance abuse ⌗ cancer ⌗ hallucinations ⌗ or are they ⌗ ghosts ⌗ or are they (x2) ⌗ song: i feel love by donna summers ⌗ psychological trauma ⌗ 1970s ⌗ title from "a little god in my hands" by swans

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The first time Jack Delroy saw Madeleine Piper after her death, he was seeing stars off an eighth ball of cocaine. Some time ago, he’d shooed good, Christian Gus away as Fiske said something mildly mean-spirited to him. Since Madeleine had passed, he hadn’t been a good friend, at least not during the nights.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Fucking idiots, I’ll tell you,” muttered Fiske, sniffing unceremoniously. They were at the backrooms of one of the stuffy Manhattan night clubs that were reserved for drugs, fucking, and probably human trafficking, with a fleet of pretty, tall models fawning over him. Every time the tallest gave Jack a heavy, fuck-me look, he felt a sickening mix of disgust and desire that threatened to betray the top-shelf brandy churning in his gut. “They wouldn’t know good T.V. if it hit them in the face.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Sounds tough,” cooed one of them, whose eyeliner was fading into a chalky residue. “I can’t imagine how you do it.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Leo Fiske loved everything about beautiful women but what they had to say. He rolled his eyes a bit, looking to Jack as if to say look at these fucking girls, before cutting a line on his key. Usually, he did coke nails, but they were apparently hand models, and didn’t want to risk anything. Fiske brought in the classiest. “Want some, hon?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Eyeliner girl giggled sweetly. “Of course.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the gaze of the tallest, feeling hot and slightly agitated. His heart flitted like a bird’s. He had been doing what any man would after their wife died — boozing, drugging, doing everything to not be alone, but only taking company with the worst of people. Still, it did little to act as a reprieve. More often than not, he’d vomit halfway through the night, have to take a lonely taxi home, and deal with Gus’ gentle nudging in the morning, trying not to be cruel enough for him to leave for good. Selfish, thought Jack. Selfish bastard. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Excuse me for a second,” said Jack abruptly, still finding it in himself to flash a polite smile: Jack Delroy, do you still prefer the Windy City over here? Jack Delroy, your Midwestern charm! “I’ll be just right back.”

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Don’t put shit up your nose without me,” Fiske replied dryly, because outside of ratings and a stiff, that was all he cared about. Jack laughed good-naturedly before bee-lining to the bathroom. Donna Summer reverberated through the hall—oooooo heaven knows heaven knows heaven knows heaven knows heaven knows i feel loveeeee i feel love i feel love i feel love i feel love—and he decided he would never have her on his show if he had the opportunity, because it was only making him feel more nauseous. He didn’t know where the bathroom was. Nobody in the club knew personal space. 

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He didn’t realize he finally made his way into one of the single-use bathrooms until he closed the door. He exhaled through his nose, locking it, the lock feeling expensive just from a slight touch. Jack made his way to the mirror, unsure of what he was expecting when he looked at himself — some physical sign of decay? A genius idea, sprouting above his head in a thought bubble like a Charles Schulz comic? A corpse? 

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ All that was there was him, looking like an idiot in a turtleneck in a Manhattan club in June, staring at himself with tired, small, miserable eyes.

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He squeezed his eyes, deciding to just watch his hands. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to force himself to throw up or not. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to return to Fiske, or if he’ed rather just sneak out unbeknownst to him and get chewed out in the morning. It was going to be a Monday.

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You should go back.”

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Despite the coke, Jack had a delayed reaction, opening his eyes slowly, as if it would change what he heard. Even with chemo having taken her hair and the color of her skin, she still looked beautiful, even though her inhaled air went in and out of her like death when he looked at her. He blinked, slowly, raising up his hand like a kid would do when they saw a monster in the closet.

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’m here,” she replied, flatly but not unkindly. Honestly. Jack had too much to drink, and as he stared, he realized he probably should make himself throw up. Still, he grit his jaw, ground his teeth: get back on Earth. “He’s got a big deal for you.”

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’re dead,” said Jack with finality, like talking to himself in whatever state he was in was a good idea.

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I am,” replied Madeleine with a smile. It looked like she was alive, but Jack’s eyes were blurring with the tears that came from his attempts to prevent his bile from rising. “But you should still go back, Jack.”

 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack lasted a total of three seconds before heaving over the toilet, and when he had wiped his face four-ply toilet paper and flushed it all down, she was gone, just like she’d died. Donna Summer echoed above like a ghost, ooh fallin' free fallin' free fallin' free fallin' free fallin' free.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The second time Jack Delroy saw Madeleine Piper after her death, Gus was the only one in the office. Jack knew he didn’t deserve Gus, but he couldn’t bear to let him go. Fatal flaw. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Here,” said Gus, “this, right here.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack took another sip of his whiskey before looking at it. He wished he didn’t. It was a kid’s scrawl, obviously a boy’s — he was a boy once, he knows the chicken-scratch — on college-ruled paper: dear Mr Delroy, my dad lost his job last year and things have been real hard but we always watch your show together. It’s the only time I see him laugh now. Thank you for making him happy. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Oh,” responded Jack, ruffling it a bit like it was crumpled. It was not. “Gee, that’s nice.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I just thought you’d like to see it,” said Gus. It was almost sheepish. “Leo was gonna throw it out because of the address.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack glanced at the envelope. Englewood. “Sheesh.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Yeah,” awkwardly laughed suburban, Naperville Gus. “It’s good.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Yes, yes. Yes, sure.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Absolutely, Jack.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Before Jack could help himself, he let something mean take control of him. “So, he’s helping my ratings improve? That’s really great, really.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Gus grimaced, but tried to pass it off as a smile. “It’s gotta count for something,” he started before hesitating, like he was trying to find a way to both appease Jack and help him before continuing, “but you should talk to Leo, though. He’s got some ideas.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Gus’ continued kindness made him both hate himself and hate Gus. They’d been friends since they were skinny and belted at Loyola, and no matter what it was—Jack’s family dog dying, Jack failing a gen-ed exam, Jack stubbing a toe—he always reacted in that earnest way that made him feel like a worse person.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He had nothing else to say but the truth: “thanks, Gus.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “‘Course, Jack.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ With the alcohol, he had no qualms abruptly rising from his desk with his wallet and car keys in tow. He didn’t know where he wanted to go. He hated going home since Madeleine died—he hadn’t even gotten rid of her oxygen tank, which stood stiffly in their bedroom. He didn’t sleep in his bed; he slept on the couch or floor.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He should get a dog, he thought. A dog that would die. Every thought he had made him feel like he was thirteen-years-old again. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He drove on busy streets, not congested but not quiet either, trying to hike up the radio only to turn it off when he realized noise didn’t suit him. The quietness didn’t, either. It just made him replay everything: you blushed. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Jack,” said Madeleine.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ If she weren’t in the backseat, nothing would have been wrong. There was no smell besides his own sweat that would betray a corpse visiting him — none of the medicinal alcohol smell that he grew to associate with Madeleine in her final months, or wet earth, or the sickly-sweet, fetid smell that came from the cadavers of the animals his father hunted and left out for too long. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He stopped in the middle of the Bowery. Not quite safe, but not immediate death, either. He didn’t know what he was saying when it left his mouth, even though it was simple and disappointing. “What?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Are you trying to kill yourself?” asked Madeleine, leaning into the sight of the rearview mirror. She had the same sense of humor: soft, but with an underlying bite. “I’d be disappointed.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I was driving.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “If I wasn’t the one to stop you, who knows what else could’ve happened,” she said. She held eye contact with kind eyes, but there was teeth he knew. She lost a canine during chemo. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You’re not here,” said Jack, steeling his gaze in front of him. A man was pissing in front of a garbage can. He heard nothing more, which left a pit in his stomach, though he wasn’t sure if it was from a deep relief or the fear of loneliness he realized he had. When he looked back, she wasn’t there.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He drove to the nearest motel. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The third time Jack Delroy saw Madeleine Piper after her death, he had been three-weeks sober, and was sitting politely in June Ross-Mitchell’s home office. She was intelligent and beautiful in a way that made his heart ache, because it only made him think of Madeleine. Madeleine was dead, though, even if he saw her wherever he went, whether it be in a rearview mirror or a hideous machine in the bedroom he couldn’t dare to enter. June was alive, without that baggage.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I just didn’t think it was possible.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “That’s what they all say,” laughed June with more humor than she’d started with. Before, it had been sardonic laughs, which he couldn’t really blame her for, especially with his uncharacteristic dryness that had come off-screen since Madeleine. “Thinking, it’s—gosh, what? Blankets and sewn eyes, like from ma’s?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Yes, yes,” laughed Jack. He didn’t feel like he could perfect his laugh since Madeleine died without some sort of drink, but it seemed to appease her. “That’s what I thought, honestly. And Rosemary’s Baby.”  

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ June laughed, a genuine thing, and Jack found himself quite miffed. “Good book. Movie. Awful things it did, though.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Worse than what you’re writing about?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ June smiled, but it looked like more of a grimace. She still laughed. “Yeah,” she said as she tilted the wine bottle—it was almost gone. She glanced to her fridge. “Are you sure you don’t want any, Jack? I’ve got one more in there. I’ll have a glass, and if you want some, you can have the rest. God knows I’ve had enough for the night.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ June didn’t know any better, and he liked her for it. Jack gave the smile. “Yes, thank you. Might warm me up a bit. Need these vocal cords for tomorrow, you know.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It ended with tangled legs and an uncomfortable feeling; not regret, but something worse with the accountability of it. For about five minutes, Jack looked around June’s bedroom, trying to calculate if he wanted to get up and risk June waking up and saying anything innocuous that would make him feel awful, even if she didn’t intend it. He decided to just get up anyway. Somehow, that little amount of alcohol had lowered his resistance to its diuretics.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He had urinated and had began washing his hands when Madeleine touched his shoulder. “I don’t blame you.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I just wish you would leave me alone,” he said.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I thought you’d want me back.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack thought about it for a moment, resisting the urge to cry. He was thirty. “Alive. I’d want you alive.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Madeleine inhaled slightly, that look of pity like Gus’ forming the creases in her forehead. Unlike Gus, though, she was able to shake it off. “Well, I’m sorry.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It wasn’t her fault for being dead, but something so humanly selfish in Jack still blamed her. “I know. I’m sorry.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Madeleine made up for the silence by carding her fingers through his hair. Her fingers weren’t hot, but they weren’t cold, either—lukewarm. He’d rather them be cold. He wanted finality. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She hesitated. At a time, she was blonde. “Is it the hair?”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack just wanted things to make sense, but not to think about them. “Maybe.” 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I miss it, too. I can’t even have it here,” whispered Madeleine. Even when she died, she’d kept her grief of her own self under-wraps. Now was the closest he’d ever gotten to her pain, but she was already dead and unfeeling.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He thought of all the things to say: I wish you’d just told me you were upset about your hair or your teeth, I wish I knew it intuitively, I wish you were still here. None of them felt appropriate to him, so he clenched his jaw and avoided her gaze. He did that often, now. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ When she left, it wasn’t an immediate disappearance, but a gradual one, like she was walking out of the room.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack decided to smoke a cigarette on June’s porch. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The fourth time Jack Delroy saw Madeleine Piper after her death, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Sure, he had a chaotic schedule, but there were no drugs besides alcohol, no women, nothing that would give him some sort of consolation for his loss of sanity.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ A stray kept coming up to his door—probably because he kept feeding it, but he liked to think it was charmed by him—who he’d adopted and originally named Minnie while drunk, but changed it to Miffy. It was better that way. She was a rather large calico who would only eat tuna-flavored brands, not salmon. He focused himself on making her happy: the utterly, inarguably blameless.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Truthfully, Jack didn’t exactly have a set schedule. On his work days, he’d wake up at three-thirty A.M., and on others, he’d wake up at 12 P.M. Miffy lived a chaotic life because of that. To Jack, that was fine — she was a street cat, she’d certainly had worse. Even with his shortcomings, which he’d admit outside of his feeding schedule (this was a sore subject for him), he neutered her and pet her even when she was creating new languages on his typewriter. 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Truthfully, Jack wasn’t even really able to have a set schedule if he tried. Since June, his drinking had increased exponentially. He wished he could blame it on her — on her offering him the wine, on her sleeping with him, on anything — but even in his self-hatred and cruelty and miserableness he knew it was on him. He didn’t have to go to the liquor store and pick up brandy. He could’ve just pet his cat.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack sat at his desk, looking at the ideas Gus had drafted. For one night, he was abstaining from drinking, having become so sick the morning before that the thought of alcohol made him want to dry-heave. He nursed a coffee instead. He wouldn’t have been able to get a drink anyway.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Magic skeptics… feminists… Elvis Presley…  disco… 

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎”No,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing the creases in his forehead. Then, with both more finality and irritation: “no, Gus.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I think disco would be nice,” said Madeleine.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ It had gotten to the point where Jack didn’t feel he could even be surprised or disturbed. That meant he was crazy, surely. But crazy people didn’t think they were crazy, so maybe not. Maybe this was something that shrinks like June would chalk up to trauma and then he could be put on horse drugs. Maybe he’d be sent to the looney-bin and get to be fed with a tube for the rest. “Every host is doing disco.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Every host isn’t you.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Yeah, they have better ratings.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Madeleine sighed in that way of hers, the one that said come on, lighten up, I’m here yet not in a way that was patronizing or pitying. Never in a way that was patronizing or pitying. Usually, it would lead to her rubbing his back telling him kind words, sometimes sex, if they were both in the mood.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “I’m sorry, Madeleine.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “You don’t have to be,” she said. “I know.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She stayed for a few moments more, caressing his neck with a hand so cold goosebumps raised his flesh. When she left, she didn’t know quite what she’d meant.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ The fifth time Jack Delroy saw Madeleine Piper after her death, he had his worst possible interviewee: Cherry Chalice, whose schtick was taking everything from The Runaways with none of the spark, but all of the commercial success. At least her name was accurate, though. She could take more than a fourth of rum without any clear inebriation besides a better personality.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ She had very clearly been fucking with him the entire time, which would’ve reminded him of boys tugging on girls’ pigtails during recess if she hadn’t implied he had a microdick a minute before. She stretched out impossibly more on her chair. She had smelled like booze coming in, and he distantly wondered if it could seep into the satin. She smiled, a mean thing.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “What the fuck happened to you, Jack?"

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack wasn't sure, except for the fact—once speculation, but now a glaringly obvious, nice, Midwestern "fuck you"—that he was indubitably, undoubtedly crazy. He considered shouting it, ratings be damned: I see and talk to my dead wife. Gosh, sometimes she even touches me. You want to know what happened to me? My wife is dead, but she’s not gone — that’s what happened, you know. The papers left the latter out, but I’m here to set the record straight. Thanks, Cherry! Tune in for the next Night Owls!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Jack realized he had probably been staring at her too long, because there was a flicker of discomfort on her face. She didn’t seem capable of sitting in silence. “I mean, look at you. Aw.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Well, that’s quite enough,” snapped Jack, feeling more mad than he should’ve been. Oh, so you can needle me all you want, but a bit of silence makes you get scared, Cherry? Cry me a river. He forced her out of her seat, which she tried drunkenly fighting. He knew that would lead to a conversation from Fiske, but he didn’t care, really. “I’ll be back. You will not.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ After barely managing to get the door open, he barreled through the set. His makeup artist, a nice woman who he gave a pay raise after drunkenly vomiting on her, intercepted. “Mr. Delroy, are you—”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “Bathroom break, thanks.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ He went to the V.I.P. bathroom and locked himself in. He pounded his fists on the door twice, cursing at the impact. “Why did I do that,” he said flatly. He sniffed, wiping at his bloody nose. He had no idea why it was bleeding. “Dammit.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ And, again, he went to the mirror, looking for some sort of evidence, but was only able to remember why he never looked at himself. He hadn’t been eating, and he didn’t look like the man who was once with Madeleine. Sometimes, he wondered if he was dying with her. Since Madeleine started coming to him, he looked more like her.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎”I know you didn’t mean for it to come to this,” offered Madeleine.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She leaned her head on his shoulder, having to stand on her tippy-toes to do it, her chin frigid and bony. It reminded him of a chicken-bone. In the mirror, their eyes looked the same: swollen, hollow.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He exhaled and put his hand in hers. ‎It had been so long since Madeleine was warm that he didn’t know if he wanted to kiss her or kill her.

[zappak]

Thorsten Soltau [Glaciers]

Release date: February 01, 2025 Catalog no. zappak-021

Bandcamp Page: https://zappak.bandcamp.com/album/glaciers

[Tracklist]

Glaciers

Excerpt: https://soundcloud.com/zappak/zappak-021

Thorsten Soltau: field recordings, voice, text-to-speech, reed organ, electric cello, modular system and granular synthesis

Finalized and edited in 2023 Remastered in 2024 at Studio >Lichter Raum<

Design and layout by Leo Okagawa Photography by Thorsten Soltau

Illustrations based on photographs and oil paintings from the Karl-Werner Feyen archive

Special thanks: Imke Feyen, Astrid Susanna Schulz, John Ihlo, Stefan Guba, and Leo Okagawa

—

"Remembering someone who has passed away is not an easy task. It is both challenging and demanding. Depending on one‘s closeness to the person, the task varies between being a chronicler and coming to terms with the person‘s life. This publication belongs to the latter. It is an approach to a friendship with a person who has accompanied me closely for more than 20 years of my life: Karl-Werner Feyen.

The photos used in the insert were taken a week after Werner's death, both inside and outside his home. The portrait on the CD dates from 2017, and the illustrations on the outer sleeve were created using photographs and oil paintings from the archive."

Formed and shaped over the course of a year, 'Glaciers' is a listening piece and requiem. It uses sounds recorded while clearing out the apartment of his closest friend Karl-Werner Feyen after his death.

Five segments commemorate a life and a friendship in a dense composition, highlighting several key points of the deceased's life. Mixing in situ soundscapes with field recordings and synthesised variations, 'Glaciers' builds complex layers of electro-acoustic sounds. Spoken words from dictaphones and text-to-speech synthesis provide further biographical clues.

"Werner was a close friend who influenced me greatly," Thorsten Soltau recalls. Spending more than 20 years together formed a very close bond. "Werner was an unusual person and a hermit. He trusted few people and lived a life that most people would not pursue. However, Werner retained a very warm and gentle side". That trust was to be extended when Werner asked Thorsten Soltau to take pictures of the murals he had painted on the flat walls. "In case he died, he said, please take pictures and preserve what I have written and painted here," explains Thorsten Soltau. A small selection of the photographs were used for the sleeve design and can also be downloaded with the purchased album.

—

Thorsten Soltau is a Germany-based artist who has been working since 2009. Until now his works were released on labels focusing on noise/soundscape such as Auf Abwegen, Gerauschmanufaktur, Chondritic Sound, Sentimental Productions, and so on. [Glaciers], dedicated to his lost friend, is a 31.5 minutes long piece and it is filled with ambience and electronic drone. The tones are sometimes gentle and warm, and sometimes melancholy. There are sounds of objects, voices, electronic sounds, and various other sounds flying in and out of the drones, as if we are listening to a requiem or watching the flashback of Soltau's friend's whole life.

Thorsten Soltauは2009年からドイツを拠点に活動しているアーティスト。これまでにAuf Abwegen、Gerauschmanufaktur、Chondritic Sound、Sentimental Productionsなどといったノイズ/音響系のレーベルから作品を発表してきている。 本作[Glaciers]は今はなき彼の友人に捧げられた作品であり、31分半のなかでアンビエンスに満ちた電子音のドローンが鳴り響く。その音色はときに優しく暖かく、ときに深い悲しみをまとっている。さらに物音や人の声、電子音などといったさまざまな音がドローンのなかで飛び交っては消えていくその様子は、まるでレクイエムを聴いているか、または走馬灯を見ているかのようでもある。

—

Thorsten Soltau

Thorsten Soltau is a self-taught artist who has been working in the field of micro-sound and glitch since 2005. Recent compositions are arranged for elements of new classical music, drone and sound design. Fields of interest include sonic disintegration, conceptualism and dualism in philosophy, and gender-related issues. Thorsten Soltau is a citizen of KonungaRikena Elgaland-Vargaland. He lives in Friesland, Lower Saxony (Germany). www.thorstensoltau.de

[trashmenace]

Blood and Ice by Leo Kessler

Blood and Ice (aka Frozen Mountain) by Leo Kessler (Charles Whiting) 1977, Futura

I've seen this listed as either 7 or in 8 in the SS Wotan and/or Dogs of War series. If it followed a larger group, at this point the series is down to Sergeant Major Schulze of the SS. Schulze, leading green European conscripts, moves through the mountains of Budapest in a suicidal diversionary action. When defeat is certain, Schulze leads a group of deserters and teams up with Jewish refugees to evade both the Soviets and Germans on the way to Austria.

Violent and sleazy, though a titch tame when compared to other 70s British historical exploitation. The scale of the story jumps back and forth between blow-for-blow action and high level summarizations - kind of inevitable in war fiction, but felt more abrupt than usual.

The book didn't exactly glamorize the Nazis, but the author clearly had a lower opinion of the Soviets. Schulze gets more anti-hero cred than I'd like to see a Nazi get, but it's not like any of this is morally defensible. Schulze hates Hitler and the Nazi establishment, but is a virulent racist in his own manner.

Available from Amazon

[how2fit]

Are you looking for a positive way to start your day? Or has today so far been a boring, stressful or simply bad day? Then today’s post can help you out. In it I want to share 120 of the most powerful and empowering short happy quotes. Ones that will make you think and help you find a new perspective. Ones that will add positive energy to your day and help you to turn it around. And ones that will bring gratitude and more happiness to your life. Short Happy Quotes for Positive Good Vibes “The best way to cheer yourself is to try to cheer someone else up.” – Mark Twain “If you want to be happy, be.” – Leo Tolstoy “Happiness is a warm puppy.” – Charles M. Schulz “Choose to be optimistic, it feels better.” – Dalai Lama “Success is getting what you want, happiness is wanting what you get.” – W. P. Kinsella “A calm and modest life brings more happiness than the pursuit of success combined with constant restlessness.” – Albert Einstein “Happiness is not a goal… it’s a by-product of a life well-lived.” – Eleanor Roosevelt “Follow your bliss and don’t be afraid, and doors will open where you didn’t know they were going to be.” – Joseph Campbell “Happy people plan actions, they don’t plan results.” – Dennis Waitley “Happiness is acceptance.” – Unknown “The mere sense of living is joy enough.” – Emily Dickinson “Happiness is a state of mind. It’s just according to the way you look at things.” – Walt Disney “Simplicity makes me happy.” – Alicia Keys “Independence is happiness.” – Susan B. Anthony “Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy.” – Anne Frank “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” – Dr. Seuss “Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” – Confucius “Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.” – Omar Khayyam “The constant happiness is curiosity.” – Alice Munro “Think positive, feel positive and positive things will happen.” – Unknown “Roll with the punches and enjoy every minute of it.” – Meghan Markle “Optimism is a happiness magnet. If you stay positive, good things and good people will be drawn to you.” – Mary Lou Retton “Whoever is happy will make others happy.” – Anne Frank Short Happy Quotes for Positive Thoughts “That’s your unlimited desires that are clouding your peace, your happiness.” – Naval Ravikant “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” – Anaïs Nin “The only thing that will make you happy is being happy with who you are.” – Goldie Hawn “Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.” – Dalai Lama “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” – George Bernard Shaw “If you want to be happy, set a goal that commands your thoughts, liberates your energy, and inspires your hopes.” – Andrew Carnegie “Happiness consists of living each day as if it were the first day of your honeymoon and the last day of your vacation.” – Leo Tolstoy “Happiness depends upon ourselves.” – Aristotle “Learn to value yourself, which means: fight for your happiness.” – Ayn Rand “The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts.” – Marcus Aurelius “One of the keys to happiness is a bad memory.” – Rita Mae Brown “Life is 10 percent what happens to you and 90 percent how you respond to it.” – Lou Holtz “We become what we think about.” – Earl Nightingale “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” – Mahatma Gandhi “Happiness is not the absence of problems, it’s the ability to deal with them.” – Steve Maraboli “Happiness is a gift and the trick is not to expect it, but to delight in it when it comes.” – Charles Dickens “Now and then it’s good to pause in our pursuit of happiness and just be happy.” – Guillaume Apollinaire “Your problem is you’re… too busy holding onto your unworthiness.” – Ram Dass “All happiness depends on courage and work.” – Honoré de Balzac “Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow. It only saps today of its joy.” – Leo Buscaglia

“If you spend your whole life waiting for the storm, you’ll never enjoy the sunshine.” – Morris West “Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.” – Marcel Proust “The power of finding beauty in the humblest things makes home happy and life lovely.” – Louisa May Alcott Short Happy Quotes That Will Make You Smile “Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” – Marthe Troly-Curtin “For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson “Don’t take life too seriously. You’ll never get out of it alive.” – Elbert Hubbard “Children are happy because they don’t have a file in their minds called ‘All the Things That Could Go Wrong.'” – Marianne Williamson “Wine is constant proof that God loves us and loves to see us happy.” – Benjamin Franklin “If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward.” – Martin Luther King Jr. “A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your steps as you walk the tightrope of life.” – William Arthur Ward “Happiness is the secret to all beauty. There is no beauty without happiness.” – Christian Dior “True happiness is to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future.” – Senec “You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.” – Jonathan Safran Foer “Nobody can be uncheered with a balloon.” – Winnie the Pooh “Be happy. It really annoys negative people.” – Ricky Gervais “Life would be tragic if it weren’t funny.” – Stephen Hawking “Trouble knocked at the door, but, hearing laughter, hurried away.” – Benjamin Franklin “Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.” – George Burns “There’s nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.” – Stephen Chbosky “If you are too busy to laugh, you are too busy.” – Proverb “A well-developed sense of humor is the pole that adds balance to your steps as you walk the tightrope of life.” – William Arthur Ward “If you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.” – Roald Dahl “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.” – Thich Nhat Hanh Deep and Short Happy Quotes “Plenty of people miss their share of happiness, not because they never found it, but because they didn’t stop to enjoy it.” – William Feather “Happiness is something that comes into our lives through doors we don’t even remember leaving open.” – Rose Lane “The greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions, and not upon our circumstances.” – Martha Washington “Being happy doesn’t mean everything is perfect. It means you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.” – Unknown “The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet.” – James Oppenheim “I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.” – Nikos Kazantzakis “They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: Someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for.” – Tom Bodett “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.” – Mahatma Gandhi “Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking.” – Marcus Aurelius Antoninus “The secret of happiness is freedom, the secret of freedom is courage.” – Carrie Jones “It isn’t what you have or who you are or where you are or what you are doing that makes you happy or unhappy. It is what you think about it.” – Dale Carnegie “The grass is always greener where you water it.” – Unknown “Enjoy your own life without comparing it with that of another.”

– Marquis de Condorcet “On a deeper level you are already complete. When you realize that, there is a playful, joyous energy behind what you do.” – Eckhart Tolle “Learn to let go. That is the key to happiness.” – Buddha “The first recipe for happiness is: avoid too lengthy meditation on the past.” – Andre Maurois “Happiness in intelligent people is the rarest thing I know.” – Ernest Hemingway “Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is.” – Maxim Gorky “The secret of happiness is not in doing what one likes, but in liking what one does.” – James M. Barrie Short Happy Quotes About Life “The happiness of life is made up of the little charities of a kiss or smile, a kind look, a heartfelt compliment.” – Samuel Taylor Coleridge “There is no passion to be found playing small – in settling for a life that is less than the one you are capable of living.” – Nelson Mandela “Action may not always bring happiness, but there is no happiness without action.” – Benjamin Disraeli “Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length.” – Robert Frost “Just because it didn’t last forever, doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth your while.” – Unknown “Happiness is distraction from human tragedy.” – J.M. Reinoso “The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.” – Chuck Palahniuk “Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions.” – Dalai Lama “The most important thing is to enjoy your life – to be happy – it’s all that matters.” – Audrey Hepburn “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” – Helen Keller “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people just exist.” – Oscar Wilde “Every day is a new day, and you’ll never be able to find happiness if you don’t move on.” – Carrie Underwood “It’s the moments that I stopped just to be, rather than do, that have given me true happiness.” – Richard Branson “Do not set aside your happiness. Do not wait to be happy in the future. The best time to be happy is always now.” – Roy T. Bennett “Happiness does not lead to gratitude. Gratitude leads to happiness.” – David Steindl-Rast “Life will bring you pain all by itself. Your responsibility is to create joy.” – Milton Erickson “The only joy in the world is to begin.” – Cesare Pavese “Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go.” – Oscar Wilde “Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature.” – Helen Keller Short Happy Quotes for the Day “The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.” – William Morris “Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination.” – Mark Twain “The two enemies of human happiness are pain and boredom.” – Arthur Schopenhauer “Happiness consists more in small conveniences or pleasures that occur every day.” – Benjamin Franklin “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” – Eleanor Roosevelt “The unhappy derive comfort from the misfortunes of others.” – Aesop “Remember today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.” – Dale Carnegie “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness.” – Thich Nhat Hanh “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.” – Dalai Lama “You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.” – Jonathan Safran Foer “I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today.” – Groucho Marx “Just one small positive thought in the morning can change your whole day.” – Dalai Lama “Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory.” – Albert Schweitzer “It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.” – L.M. Montgomery “We tend to forget that happiness doesn’t come as a result of getting something we don’t have, but rather of recognizing and appreciating what we do have.”

– Frederick Keonig “Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” – Abraham Lincoln “People don’t notice whether it’s winter or summer when they’re happy.” – Anton Chekhov “Happiness is a state of activity.” – Aristotle “Tension is who you think you should be, relaxation is who you are.” – Chinese Proverb “Today is life – the only life you are sure of. Make the most of today.” – Dale Carnegie Want more positive and uplifting inspiration? Then check out these happiness quotes, this one with good vibes quotes and also this post filled with feel good quotes.

[undiscoperlapausapranzo]

Un Disco per la Pausa Pranzo no. 2 - 13 Settembre 2017 - Stomu Yamashta's Go - The Go Sessions - 1976

Canzoni:

Solitude

Nature

Air over

Crossing the line

Man of Leo

Stellar

Space Theme

Space Requiem

Space Song

Carnival

Ghost Machine

Surfspin

Time is here

Winner/Loser

Canzone preferita: le tre tracce dello Spazio: Space Theme, Space Requiem e Space Song

Musicisti:

Stomu Yamashta: Sintetizzatore d'archi (1, 3-9, 11), Minimoog (3,8 e 9), Timpani (3 e 10), Percussioni (5, 6, 8-14), Mini Korg (8 e 9)

Steve Winwood: Piano acustico (1, 2, 4, 10, 13 e 14), Voce (2, 4, 5, 10, 13 e 14), Organo (5 e 11), Piano elettrico (6), Chitarra (14), Sintetizzatore d'archi (14)

Michael Shrieve: Batteria (1-6, 10, 11, 13 e 14)

Klaus Schulze: Sintetizzatori (1-5, 7-9, 11 e 13)

Chris West: Chitarra ritmica (1, 11 e 13)

Pat Thrall: Chitarra solista e ritmica (3 e 4)

Junior Marvin: Chitarra ritmica (4-6, 10 e 14), Chitarra (14)

Al di Meola: Chitarra solista (5, 6, 10, 11 e 13)

Bernie Holland: Chitarra (10)

Rosko Gee: Basso elettrico (1-7, 10-14)

Hisako Yamashta: Violino e Voce (9)

Paul Buckmaster: Arrangiamento di fiati (1 e 2), Arrangiamento di ottoni (5 e 10), Arrangiamento d'archi (10, 12 e 13)

Brother James: Congas (11 e 14)

Lenox Langton: Congas (11)

Thunderthighs: Cori (4)

[placerdiario]

Google x Vogue x GQ - Encounters from ale ruiz-zorrilla on Vimeo.

Condè Nast Creatives: Alexander Freudenberger and Diana Alemann

Production Company: Iconoclast Germany Executive Producer: Alexis Delanoue Producer: Flora Marriot Production Coordinator: Henry Davidson First Assistant Director: Linus Weber

Director: Ale Ruiz-Zorrilla DOP: Louis Lustermann

Talents: Cristina, Bella, Naman, Josefine, Salif and Daniel

Focus Puller: Julien Bauer 2nd AC/Loader: Andrea Pedrinelli

Gaffer: Alan Waddingham Sound: Adam Asnan Best Girl: Elizabeth Root

Stylist: Linda Englehardt Styling Assistant: Konstantinos Efstahiadis

HMU: The Baligans

Colorist: Jonny Thorpe Editor: Tobias Kirschner Sound Design and Music: Jason @ Mosche

Driver/Runner: Anna Mengels Driver/Runner: Noelle Goetz Driver/Runner: Leo Schulze Driver/Runner: Marcel Calliku

Scan: Silveryway Paris Stock: Kodak

[arkholt]

Harvey Pekar on the potential of comics, from The Comics Journal 123, July 1988

Comics is as good, as expressive, as versatile an artistic medium as any other, including the novel, theater, and film. You can write as well in comics as in any other form. Comic book writing is very similar to writing drama: you write dialogue and directions, to the actors and director in one case, to the illustrator in another. You can write any way you want in comics and you can draw any way you want. using any style you like.

Here's a paradox: haiku, a Japanese poetry form in which the writer is allowed only 17 syllables, is thought of as a fine art, but comics is regarded as intrinsically limited even though it allows for far greater expressive freedom than haiku. Why is this? I think it's because haiku has traditionally attracted gifted and serious writers, while comics, aimed at a lowest common denominator audience, has, for the most part, been done by commercial hacks. Good, talented artists can make an art form respectable; lousy ones can bring it into disrepute. Comics have a far greater aesthetic potential than is generally realized: if more gifted people employed the medium, this would become evident, and comics would be taken far more seriously.

Charles Schulz has been quoted in Twisted Image #6 as saying: "I really think I know as much, if not more, about drawing comics as anyone in the business. I think Snoopy is as good a comic character as any that's been invented. So's Charlie Brown, Linus, Lucy, and Peppermint Patty. But I'm no Andrew Wyeth; I'm no Leo Tolstoy. We're restricted by what we are. Our medium will always hold us back. The same way as a burlesque comedian can never be Hamlet."

Schulz should blame his limitations on himself, not his medium. Let's look at his work. He is one the more important cartoonists to come to the fore since 1950, but that's not saying much since a large percentage of the comic-book and strip art printed since then has been garbage, often done by people with juvenile intellects for people with juvenile intellects. Schulz's work is clever and amusing; he gets laughs by having his unusually articulate child and animal characters struggle with sometimes serious psychological problems. OK, where does he fall short? For one thing, he trivializes his own insights. The kind of hang-ups his characters have can really cause people a lot of pain, but by instilling these problems into cute little kids who are drawn extremely simply, Schulz minimizes their seriousness. His near stick-figure drawing has its charm, but also has a limited emotive range.

It's possible portray people in comics with serious psychological and social problems convincingly, powerfully, and at the same time humorously, without making the concessions Schulz has made. Not only is it possible, it's been done by a variety of comic-book and strip artists including Ring Lardner, Gene Ahern, Robert Crumb, Bill Griffith, and Justin Green.

Granted, the strip format that Schulz uses limits him; he only has a few panels a day to work with, so he tends to tell gags rather than get into something more profound. His panels have to be small and uniform in size; this limits the power and artistic variety of his work. But, hey, no one forced Schulz to use comics the way he's using them. He's done a good job, given his limitations, but it's possible to do far more. People can be portrayed as realistically as possible in comics. Comics are words and pictures; you can do anything with words and pictures.

Where do comics come from, what are their antecedents? Some antecedents are pretty distinguished, like the earthy, often very funny work of 16th-century Flemish artist Pieter Bruegel. Some of his pieces could be called cartoons even if they're usually considered "fine art."

The Japanese scrolls of several hundred years ago, also considered fine art, told stories using words and pictures in much the same way comics do today.

William Hogarth used sets of pictures such as The Rake's Progress to tell stories in the 18th century.

The fact that Bruegel, Hogarth, and the creators of the Japanese scrolls weren't commercial hacks doesn't mean that their work has no relation to comics. Comics don't have to be lousy.

In the 19th century, cartooning and caricature were not kid stuff, as witness the brilliant efforts of Honore Daumier, a political and social critic, and of Thomas Nast, whose editorial cartoons helped bring down New York's notorious Tweed Ring.

By the end of the 19th century, comics had become extremely popular in the US; they were big money-makers, as the battle between the New York World and New York Journal over legal rights to the Yellow Kid feature indicated. Though newspaper strips between 1900 and 1940 were aimed at middle-class and working-class people, not intellectuals, a number of them were aesthetically quite good, some even brilliant. Winsor McCay was employing surrealism in Little Nemo before fine artists de Chirico and Chagall. Lionel Feininger became a highly regarded fine artist around 1915, but his 1906 comic feature The Kinder Kids ranks among his greatest achievements.

During the '20s and '30s, a number of newspaper comics features came to the fore which were aimed at and were often about middle-class and lower-class people. The writing was relatively simple and informal, yet some were aesthetically successful even judged by pretty rigorous standards. I refer to comics like Popeye by Elzie C. Segar, Our Boarding House by Gene Ahern, Moon Mullins by Frank Willard, You Know Me, Al (written by Ring Lardner); Alley Oop by V.T. Hamlin, J.R. Williams's features such as Out Our Way and Bull of the Woods, Al Capp's Li'l Abner, and Gasoline Alley, whose creator, Frank King, was not only a very good writer, but a splendid artist (in some of King's color pages, he brilliantly synthesized contemporary fine art and cartooning techniques). In addition to this, some one-panel magazine cartoonists, such as those who worked for The New Yorker, evolved clever and amusing approaches.

[It goes on, and mostly talks about comic books, but his point has pretty much been made. Comics should be respected more than they are, but they aren't because not enough great artists and writers have worked on them. I agree with the first half of that, and disagree with the second. I don't think it's fair to throw so many great artists and writers under the bus just to elevate a medium. Comics is as great of a medium as it is because of those who created them, not despite them.]

https://notes.arkholt.com/pubs/thecomicsjournal/tcj-123-jul-1988/pekar-comic-potential

[usagirotten]

Movie Review: Snoopy Presents: Welcome Home, Franklin, is an impeccably inclusive and very emotional work

The theme of inclusion and political correctness has been very popular in different and very varied Hollywood productions, in all its genres the messages have been referring to the African-American community, the LGBTTTIQ+ community, the disabled, and more minorities. We are aware that these issues are delicate to handle for a crystal generation that feels offended and attacked by everything related and what is not, in the end, everything remains in the eye of the beholder and affects what each one decides or does. feel represented. When a topic like this is brought to the small screen with characters everyone knows, it is even more difficult. Without a doubt, the one who has done it extremely well is director Raymond Persi in his new mini-film Snoopy Presents: Welcome Home, Franklin, this endearing and unequal gang has to carry a unique and extraordinary message.

What is the movie about?

Franklin (Caleb Bellavance) is new in town and wants to make friends but his usual tactics don't work with the Peanuts gang, when the opportunity to compete in a cart race unexpectedly arrives, he takes it to impress his new friends and forms a team with the only boy who does not have a partner and whom everyone considers a loser, Charlie Brown (Etienne Kellici), together they will discover that there is much more than just competing and they will know more about each other than can be seen at first glance. Interestingly, these types of projects are basically for a more children's audience but also one that adults can enjoy repeatedly. This series of mini films has touched on various topics ranging from the problems they face growing up to the adaptation to the environment and the social environment without missing the message on which its main story is based. This project has been presented just for African American History Month where we can see a more modern account of Franklin Armstrong's arrival to the rest of the Peanuts gang and his constant fight and desire to belong and make new friends in what for him It is a new and strange city, as footage it is not as timeless as we might suppose, it is based almost entirely on the period in which it made its debut in the comic strip created by Charles M. Schulz, having with it a more serious emotion in the way in which its characters face new challenges in their short lives. Franklin belongs to a family that has to constantly move to wherever his military father is reassigned, the latest move takes this boy out of the big city to reside in a quiet suburb where he meets the eclectic local children including Charlie Brown, it is to be expected that being the new kid he will find some of the children strange either in their hobbies or in their unequal personalities where he does not believe he can fit in, with the help of a booklet where he has listed what he has to do in the challenge. It's even greater when you start to get to know them a little more closely. The small town has a pizzeria where everyone meets to hang out, there he finds out that they are preparing a car race among the children, the prize will be a trophy and a year of free pizzas, for Franklin the prize is the least important thing. Now he has the opportunity to prove to everyone and also that he can make new friends if he wins the coveted prize. It is not strange to us that because he is new, no one chooses him as a partner to compete, with Charlie Brown being the only one available and with whom he does dumbbell.

Franklin and Charlie Brown are determined to win the race while the others don't think they will get very far including Lucy (Isabella Leo) who didn't have a good first meeting with the new guy, Franklin tells Charlie Brown some things about him and what They have had to live while they work together on the design and production of the wooden stroller, however, their friendship will not be easy between them since the pressures of the next competition weigh heavily both in the preparation and in the middle of the race itself because Each one has their reasons to win, the end is predictable in a story like this, making decisions that affect the result is very every day, here there are no losers or winners, each one takes away an experience about what they have experienced, starting a great and lasting friendship. Franklin made his debut in the comic strip in 1968, the parallelism between these 2 stories between these 2 characters is evident, this can be strange and difficult to carry out in a current narrative, but this experiment improves the audiovisual experience, especially for those who know these similarities, the story is presented in a simpler and more accessible way for us as viewers that tries to be more in line with the modernity of the current world in which we live, taking it more towards a new vision without losing its classic and apolitical essence of American pop culture, being firmly grounded in the 1960s helps connect more firmly and faithfully to its source material and the historical origins it represents. The script written by Robb Armstrong, Craig, Bryan Schulz, and Cornelius Uliano does not take any restrictions and takes risks by more clearly addressing the challenges that their characters must face with visible consequences, here we see that they can have arguments over the difference of opinions that cause frivolous, banal and childish interpersonal conflicts, this change not only applies to Franklin because he is the new kid on the block or because of his ethnicity and skin color, but that is also what matters the least, that is not the issue nor is it advocated. Rather, it is the social and personality change that highlights the risks that children faced in that decade and that here does not result in something too explicit or discordant, each of the sequences we see makes us more immersive in its plot. The animation remains impeccable and spectacular, a combination of traditionally done backgrounds with CGI in a more artistic and bright style to give these characters and environments more depth and feel more real in a first-person perspective that increases the feeling of immersion, the wooden car race sequence may be the most elaborate in the latest works already presented by Apple TV+. The message it gives us is a real problem that many children around the world face when changing their environment and social circle, with the arrival of social networks this has become even more complicated when you want to belong to a select group, Values such as friendship, camaraderie, the overexposition of the key elements are present in a subtle but direct way in which as viewers we feel related to their characters, perhaps the only flaw it has is the duration: 39 minutes are not enough to explore what Franklin's life is like before his imminent changes, something that surely provided much more.

The voice cast includes Caleb Bellavance, Etienne Kellici, Isabella Leo, Wyatt White, Lexi Perri, Hattie Kragten, Arianna McDonald, Lucien Duncan-Reid, Cash Allen-Martin, Terry McGurrin, Robert Tinkler, Natasha Nathan, Charlie Boyle, Will Bhaneja, Maya Misaljevic Jackson Reid and Jacob Mazeral do a great job, trying to emulate those old voices from the 60's and 70's to give life to these characters without losing their essence. The music composed by Jeff Morrow surprises by trying to establish a specific period with very subtle but effective jazz and soul. We can also listen to and enjoy songs by Stevie Wonder, Little Richard, James Brown, John Coltrane, Billy Preston, Sam & Dave, Ray Charles, Ella Fitzgerald, and Chuck Berry among others who support and give meaning to everything audiovisual. In conclusion, Snoopy Presents: Welcome Home, Franklin is an impeccable and extremely emotional work that makes us as viewers want to continue watching those specials that introduce us to each of their characters, with deeper stories that not only serve to entertain but also They leave us a clear message without falling into pretensions and clichés typical of an animated genre that is overrated nowadays. Snoopy Presents: Welcome Home, Franklin is now available on the Apple TV+ platform. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GrMX591wZKQ Read the full article

[hsg-lumdatal]

Handballer der CBES auch in der 2. Runde bei JtfO erfolgreich Am 13.12.2023 fand der Regionalentscheid des weltgrößten Schulsportwettbewerbs „Jugend trainiert für Olympia“ in der Sportart Handball statt. Die Mannschaft der CBES Lollar trat mit einem Spieler der CBES Allendorf nach erfolgreichem Kreisentscheid in Langgöns an. Es wurden 2x10 Minuten mit einer kurzen Halbzeitpause gespielt. Im ersten Spiel siegte die CBES mit 18:13 gegen die AvHS Lauterbach. Luca (10), Leo B. (2), Abdigani (2), Freddi (1), Till (1), Lenny (1) und Leo J. (1) erzielten die Tore und Torhüter David hatte 4 Paraden. Im zweiten Spiel machte es die BGS Gießen unseren Jungs deutlich schwerer. Zwar führte die CBES zur Halbzeit mit 7:4, aber Gießen kämpfte sich auf 12:11 heran, ehe unsere Mannschaft kurz vor Schluss den Treffer zum 13:11- Sieg erzielen konnte. Torschützen: Luca (4), Nikita (3), Leo B. (2), Till (1), Abdigani (1), Lenny (1) und Freddi (1); David konnte in diesem Spiel 7 Bälle halten. Die Mannschaft freut sich, Ende Januar 2024 am Landesfinale der Wettkampfklasse 3 in Melsungen teilnehmen zu können. Die erfolgreiche Handball-Mannschaft der CBES: Sportlehrer Tobias Bepler, Luca Tomescu, Nick Schulz, Till Schmidt, David Flor Carvalho, Leo Jung, Leo Becker, Lenny Schmitt, Nikita Hörner, Abdigani Abdullah, Frederik Goedecke, Adrian Kasper und Sven Jäger (von links) Mehr wie immer auf unserer Homepage

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Il rappait en exaltant les valeurs du monde, aujourd'hui il a répondu à l'appel du Christ - C2000

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Leo Stronda

He is a member of the hip-hop group Bonde da Stronda. he is a singer, songwriter, model and body builder who came to recognition due to his YouTube channel where he shares workout videos, new songs and health and fitness advice.

His Instagram account has more than 5.2 million followers and he also has a new channel with the simple name “Leo Stronda” that has about 3.3 million subscribers right now.

The alternative clothing line “XXT Corporation” was founded and is owned by him. “Lion Schulz” is the name of his most recent compilation.