#new vese!
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New Verse!
Jacaerys Velaryon, Resurrected Verse
After the Battle of the Gullet, Jacaerys dies, and his body washes up on the shores of Pentos. Eventually having been found by a group of people and brought to a Red Priest. After weeks of trying, Jacaerys is revived. However, for weeks he is unable to function and essentially lies in a coma. When he comes to, Jace remembers bits and pieces of his life. It doesn't all come back at once, but Jace remembers enough to know who he is. Jacaerys also now has one brown eye, and one violet eye, showing his Targaryen blood, a result of the magic that brought him back so far into death.
After several months, close to a year, Jacaerys finally gets back to more of himself physically. With no dragon, and more of his memories coming back Jace returns to Westeros but stays hidden. He does not really know what to think about everything that happened to him. His mother and everyone he once knew were now dead. His little brother Aegon had the throne. So Jacaerys stays away from the Capital trying to get used to everything again and fill in the gaps of his still missing memories. For now, Jace stays in an old hunter's cabin in the woods, doing small jobs for pay, which sometimes includes hunting down bandits.
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darkmovies · 1 year ago
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Monolith (2024) Date de sortie : 17/07/2024 Réalisateur : Matt Vesely Scénario : Lucy Campbell Avec : Lily Sullivan, Ling Cooper Tang, Ansuya Nathan
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jams-sims · 3 months ago
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I'm still waiting for the official translation because the leaks were such a nothing burger, like none of these last chapters answer a gotdamn thing. Started some shit with Mei Mei, started a new case, a new curse technique or some shit with a secert society.
None of that shit mattered! NONE OF IT! Provide answers to questions no one was asking. Gege could have shown Gojo being cremated or something! Tie back into the fact Shoko is alone and she did have that whole moment where she said (its implied im being hyperbolic) that Gojo doesnt even think about how she was right beside him grieving the lost of Geto too. It would have been a fundmental tragic ending for the group of three. Contrast that with Nobara, Megumi and Yuji all laughing with eachother being idiots. She gets to see the next generation. But I guess nothing matters anymore and she helps with Megumi buriel of his sister. Which is good but damn could it be better.
I mean- shit I guess I win a little something because Kenjaku is back, fake or not. An Kenjaku was my favorite, and I love the idea that Takaba was so fucking smitten by Kenjaku that he used his technique to bring him back. Shit i would love more on that, is Takaba powers good eough to repluicate kenjaku fully? Will he have to keep remaking Kenjaku because he can never get it just right. That shit would be so interesting!
Then gege fumbled the easiet ass pull i would have forgiven if he just wrote a scene of Yuji and Kenjaku interacting out of no where and it was a 3 page flash back. In a fucking white void somewhere. Because why the fuck did Kenjaku act the way that he did. He made Yuji who was not "the prefect vessel" because at the end Kenjaku was like 'Sukana and Yuji can not both exist at the same time'. Kenjaku really made Yuji, Sukana OP and vese versa.
I GUESS if you wanna stretch it, Yuji was shown to not have his parent in his life at all, when he was about 7. Which mean they had to be around ealier and if so what the fuck happened!? What the fuck was up with Jin and why did Kenjaku do any of the shit he did-
Why save Yuji school friend, someone no one remember until he walked her out! Then said "Thank you for being a friend to my son".
Kenjaku its giving I love my youngest child, fuck all my other kids.
What happened to the Merger and Tengen, I dont care of they found where Tengens at! That doesnt stop what ever the merger was, shit it could have been cool to imply it had been already started as everyone was healing. Just the last chapter were so co fusing and bloated with shit no one wanted. I would have rathered the dream theory be real or the kill all of them ensing be real. It feels mega like a editor came in and started talking in geges ear.
I mean all of this could be forgiven if after the ending it was like BAM JJK Part 2 starting 2025. I could at least go "ooo more shit gonna be revealed in part 2." But nothing! The ending was just super frustrating. I hope the offical just has a little more of something!
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the-void-writes · 5 months ago
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“you’re so pretty when you lie to me”
Hello hello friendo 💖 So we were talking about writing more unhinged stuff, and thanks to you I managed to develop Aphelion’s awfulness more lol. Thank you so much for the motivation and inspo, and I hope this isn’t too unhinged 😅
For All Eternity - The Moon King’s Madness
Summary: Paradise Era— Will has been taken by King Aphelion Sapphirus, a Celestial who hates humanity. His delusions have convinced him that any Freak with strong enough powers are Celestials trapped in mortal forms, so he makes it his job to set them free through fatal methods.
WC: 3K
TW: Many descriptions of body horror (both shapeshifting and a vivisection). Also if you don’t like reading about people being held prisoner, or violent and manipulative love interests, then this isn’t for you.
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Days flew by so fast that Will couldn’t tell them apart anymore. He would wake up in that miserable bedroom, with the view of freedom a million miles below him, and the minutes would blur together after that. Feasts with the Celestials, tours around the palace that he was meant to share, hours strapped to a table in the darkness as the god that claimed to love him tried time and time again to cut through his mortal cage and release his cosmic spirit…
Aphelion’s singular glowing eye pierced the darkness, the only part of him that Will could see, aside from the blazing hot blade in his hands. His voice scratched the inside of Will’s head, drowning out the ringing in his ears.
“I know it hurts,” he said. “You’re doing so well, my dear. If I can just get through this section of veins…”
The blade hit Will’s skin once more, filling his nose with the smell of burnt flesh. His throat was already raw from screaming, made worse by the waves of energy that tore through him. It was his body’s natural defense mechanism— His years with Vesely had taught him that.
Starlight cut clean down the center of his chest. The air touched his open skin with the grace of an old friend. Finally, the cutting stopped, and Aphelion waited anxiously. This was the moment of truth for all his hard work and research. If all went to plan, Will’s “Celestial soul” would at last be free.
That was when Will felt his insides shift. Dozens of little growths stretched and connected like the threads of an old doll. They twisted and pulled, and in no time at all, Will had been stitched back together. His saving grace, Vesely’s Infection— it wouldn’t let him die. He was too good of a host.
The air grew thick and warm as Aphelion threw the blade into the darkness. His yell shook the entire room.
“DAMN YOU, CURSED PARASITE!”
Tears ran down Will’s face. He had never been more thankful to be sick. His whole body flinched as he felt Aphelion’s large hand cradle his head, still invisible in the darkness.
“Forgive me, my darling… I’ve failed you.”
There were several long footsteps, and then he was gone. Will cried in the dark for what felt like forever before a group of Aphelion’s glowing handmaidens came to collect him. He didn’t remember the trip back to his room, only the spinning in his head and the feeling of bile rising in his ruined throat.
Finally, he was back in his bed. The handmaidens finished cleaning the new scar on his chest, and left him to recover in his room for the rest of the night. They never said a word to him, perhaps out of fear of the king. Aphelion had a bizarre temperament when it came to Will. He was as soft as possible around the small mortal, but if anyone else showed interest in him, the moon god had no trouble disposing of them. According to the sparse whispers of other Celestials, Aphelion had devoured one of their kind for daring to look at Will for longer than a minute.
The mattress consumed Will as he laid down and watched the stars outside. If someone had told him as a boy that he would one day be sickened by the sight of the cosmos, he would have thought them insane. His hopes and dreams of exploring the galaxy, flying among stardust, discovering new worlds and species… All of it was squandered each time Aphelion took his wretched scalpel to Will’s chest.
He tried to take this brief moment of peace to think, but his mind had been reduced to a handful of thoughts: hating Aphelion, missing Dante, and praying for death to finally claim him, to reunite him with his family. All he wanted was an end to the torture.
His heart dropped as he heard the door open. He leapt up and leaned against the bedpost, hoping he had enough energy to run to the washroom and lock it before the handmaidens could grab him. He was only due for one ritual a week, that was what Aphelion swore to him, the one promise Will trusted him to keep. Vesely’s Infection put his body through too much stress, so Aphelion had to stop and let him recover. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Will before he could be free. As horrifically misguided as he was, there was indeed a part of him that loved the young Divine.
Will’s heart sank further down as a pale, crooked hand pushed the door open carefully. Aphelion’s human disguise was far from perfect. He was thoroughly disgusted by humanity, so his understanding of appearance and proportions were approximations, at best. Discolored patches of skin were hastily sewn together, sagging and twisting around a nonexistent skeletal form. Space dust and starlight shifted under the skin, churning like water beneath his cosmically-decorated hanfu. He towered over Will, whose height just barely reached where the Moon King’s ribs would be. Pale pink hair hung perfectly within a series of hairpins, pulling it tight enough to stretch the corners of his face. It was a mockery of a human being, a suit that was designed purely to give him more time with Will.
“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice still shook inside Will’s head, with the underlying discomfort of nails scratching glass. “How are you feeling?”
“Do I have to go back?” Will asked, struggling to stand upright and not fall back into the preferable softness of the bed.
Aphelion smiled and mustered an unpleasant laugh. His eyes flickered with what Will assumed was warmth. They were less eyes, per say, and more two distant stars floating in the darkness that hid under the god’s human suit. Will could see the hollow sockets behind the light, two miniature universes peering out at him.
“We’re done, I promise you. Until we can figure out how to destroy this parasite, I’m afraid we’ll have to put the ritual on hold.”
Will let his shoulders fall as he tried to smother his relief. The last thing he wanted to do was give his host— his captor— a reason to continue his work.
“Please forgive me, my dear,” Aphelion said, confusing his silence with disappointment. “I know it’s insufferable, but by the end of it all, you’ll be free.”
“I’ll be dead, sir. I’m not a god.”
“You don’t truly believe that, do you?” Aphelion moved forward carefully, sweeping his legs like a peacock unsure of its steps. “If you were anything as simple and lowly as a human, you would never have survived this long. Your sickness, your isolation, the years of abuse from your father—”
“Don’t talk about him,” Will spat.
Aphelion smiled. “Forgive me, I know it’s a sensitive subject. We can talk about something else.”
“I don’t want to talk.”
The god’s smile faltered. Will braced himself for a swift mood swing, for the handmaidens to come barreling in and pull him back into the ritual room, but that moment never came. The fear in waiting seemed more unbearable than the pain itself.
“I understand your frustrations, you know.”
Will raised his eyebrow. “Do you?”
“You’re displeased with me. I disgust you.” He raised his hand up. “Please, I get it. These human forms are so limiting and fragile.”
“What?” Will shook his head. ���I don’t hate your… appearance.”
The god chuckled to himself. “You don’t have to pretend. It makes me nauseous just putting it on.”
“Then why do it?”
“For you, of course. If I can’t free you yet, then I’ll bind myself in this prison of flesh. Anything to see you and make you happy.”
Will wasn’t quick enough to stop himself. “I was already happy with my friends— with Dante. He was my home.”
Tears stabbed the corners of his eyes. He missed Paradise so terribly, even the noise and the parties that never seemed to end. He missed sleeping in with the love of his life and heading out for lunch together before retreating back home to avoid the crowds. After years of heartbreak, Will had finally found peace, and it was taken away from him for the third time in his life.
He pushed himself into the bedpost as Aphelion stepped closer, trying and failing to avoid the clawed hand running through his hair.
“It truly pains me to see you this distraught,” Aphelion said. “A man like that was never worth your time. He never even came up to see you.”
“Because you won’t let anyone up here!”
“But he never even bothered to ask for you. What monster would abandon the supposed love of his life?”
Will shut his eyes and tightened his fists. He knew Dante better than that. This was a man who had gone into a heist with a fatal fever, all for the sake of the kids in his neighborhood. If he hadn’t come to bargain for Will, it was because he was planning something. Dante would never abandon him. He wasn’t like Dan…
“If your heart still aches for him,” Aphelion said, “perhaps I can assist with that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Watch, my dear.”
There was a sick popping noise, and Will watched as the moon king’s long form shrank and twisted. The discolored skin grew dark, and his long pink hair turned black and curly, until Will was looking at his love again, at his Dante. It was his beautiful smile, his golden scars from the Infection… but the glowing yellow eyes belonged to Aphelion, and the skin around his face was still pinched tight.
“What do you think?” he asked in Dante’s low, smooth voice. “It’s so much easier when you have a base to work off of. Is this better for you? Not as repulsive?”
Will fell back onto the bed, unable to speak. It was wrong, it was so sickeningly wrong. He could barely shake his head. Aphelion read the look in his eyes and shrugged.
“That’s alright. Mister Briggs isn’t exactly my style, anyway. How about something simpler?”
With the snap of his fingers, his fake skin shifted and snapped into plastic. Cold joints and wires mocked the human muscular system, until Will was face-to-face with the android he had once fallen for. It was a perfect replica of Dan, save for his sick yellow eyes. A mixture of longing and anger stung his chest.
“How?” Will asked. “How the hell do you know what he looks like?!”
“I saw him in your dreams.” His voice box crackled just as Dan’s did, but Aphelion’s tone still seeped through like poison. “I didn’t mean to wander in there, but your thoughts were deafening.”
“You— You were in my head?”
“Yes, and I saw how terribly he treated you. The real Daniel was a fool. We could start over, now that your mind is intact. I can be what he never could.”
Will clenched his teeth. “I don’t want to start over.”
“Fair enough, my dear. He’s a tad too numb for my taste.”
The android’s casing melted off of Aphelion’s starlit body, quickly covered by a new layer of dark skin. Glowing, predatory eyes shone through the glasses that now rested on his broad nose. Thick, coiled hair sprouted from the top of his head. Will’s stomach wrenched violently at the sight of Aphelion, whose cosmic form rippled under Colin’s skin, glowing like magma.
“Your first love. You cared deeply for him, from what I remember.”
Will practically stumbled against the bed frame, fighting the urge to be sick. He had almost forgotten how soft-spoken and gentle Colin was, but he knew these drawn-out sentences weren’t his. Colin spoke quickly and to the point, and furthermore, he never watched anyone with a look as predatory as that of the moon god. Will refused to look at Aphelion until he was back in his own ragged skin.
“Nothing?” he asked. “Is it the boy’s age? I know he looks young, but I’ve been alive for centuries, Will. There’s no harm done.”
“That’s sick, Saph— Sick in the head.”
“You were in love with him, yes? It could be as though he never left you.”
“You think I want that? You think I’m going to fall in love with you because you’re wearing my old boyfriend like a fucking ballgown?!”
Aphelion tapped a clawed finger against his chin, with all the casual grace of a man pondering his plans for dinner. He closed his eyelids limply over the hollow sockets. Will’s head buzzed and his stomach twisted— the god was reading his thoughts. It was so much worse compared to the warm cloud that would surround his mind whenever Dante read from him. Aphelion’s power felt as though someone was taking a fork to his mind and scooping out the insides.
“Ah,” the god said, “I’ve found something better.”
His body snapped and jerked, and for a while, Will couldn’t see much of a difference in his appearance. He was still tall and pale, still wriggling under false skin. His nose seemed longer, and his eyes were larger and rounder, but nothing too drastic had changed.
Then his pink hair grew darker, a deep wine color turning into dark cherry. Now, it was a near perfect match, like an old photograph that had just been misplaced in the wash, elongating all of the features. The only pieces missing were the snow-colored eyes.
“How is this?” His soft voice pierced Will’s heart. “Barely even a change, right? He’s perfect.”
Anger burned through Will’s body, powered by the sickness in his veins. In the blink of an eye, he lunged at Aphelion, pushing him to the ground.
“GET OUT OF HIS BODY!” Will screamed. “RIGHT NOW!”
A wave of energy burst from his throat as he yelled, cracking the floor below Aphelion’s head. The moon king struggled to gain his bearings.
“Will— please calm down!”
Will’s throat burned as he cried. He could still see Jason’s cold, stiff, colorless face as he laid still in his grasp. Blood and feathers and bullets littered the floor around them. The more he remembered, the further his powers forced the god into the tile work.
“This is for you,” Aphelion said, fighting through his chokehold. “You loved him, and they took him from you. I can bring him back to you, it’s no problem for me—”
“GET OUT!”
“Don’t tell me it’s not true! Don’t tell me you don’t love him, I’ve seen it! You love him so much, you wish you had died instead!”
Aphelion struggled in his grasp— Jason struggled, terrified of the man looming above him. An expression he never wanted to see on his godfather… Will quickly released his powers and backed up against the bedpost, leaving Aphelion to catch his breath— How could a god like him even breathe?
Will curled up on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He longed for the ritual, for the scalding blades that cut his chest open, anything other than this.
“Dearest,” Aphelion said, still in his stolen voice, “you’re hurting so much. I don’t blame you.”
Will refused to speak. A clumsy claw ran through his hair, and he was too tired, too frightened, to push it away.
“You shouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I can stay like this for you, until we can finally set you free. It’s easy, really. You don’t have to repress your emotions. I’m all yours, however you want me.”
Those words, in that voice, were the push Will needed to slap Aphelion back onto the floor, hard enough to force him back into his original skin. Aphelion was speechless, grazing his fingers over his reddened cheek. Will’s stare could have shot clean through the Celestial.
“I hate you,” he said. “I hate everything about you. I don’t want to love you, and it’s not because of how you look. You can’t just hide behind the faces of people I loved. It will never change what you are— vile and wicked and cruel.”
Will rose to his feet before Aphelion could reach him. He stumbled towards the door, not at all concerned with where he was going or who would follow him. He just wanted to leave.
“Will—”
“Don’t you ever use my father’s face again. You don’t understand him, or what he meant to me. Stay out of his skin, or I swear on my life, I will find a way to kill you.”
Whatever had motivated him to stand up to Aphelion died the moment the god picked himself up off the ground and snatched Will’s wrist.
“Kill?” His voice shook the walls. “You think you can kill me with that broken little body? After everything I’ve done for you?!”
Will shielded his face in a way he hadn’t done since he was a young boy, cowering at the brutality of his birth father. He waited for the snap of a bone or the sting of a fist, but nothing came. When he opened his eyes, Aphelion looked mortified. He released Will’s hand slowly.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “My darling, I’m so sorry.”
Will avoided his pleading eyes. “Leave, please.”
“Of course.”
Aphelion slinked out of the room, and when his weak footsteps could no longer be heard, Will ran to the washroom and locked himself inside. He let his tears mix with the warm water in the sink, porcelain cracking under his hand as he gripped the edges, tighter and tighter until his fingers started to bleed.
He couldn’t live like this, teetering the edges of both his and Aphelion’s rage. If he could only convince his Infection to seek a new host, or give up completely, then he could find a way to die before the moon king got his hands on him again…
Will slapped himself with his own bruised hand. You jackass, he thought, you can’t give up. You’ll leave Dante all on his own. He took a breath and treated his hand with medicine from the cabinet. Get a hold of yourself, find a way out of here, and don’t stop until you’re back in his arms.
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katrinegrey · 1 year ago
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A Fire in the Flesh final thoughts
Major Spoilers (and rambling) ahead y'all. You've been warned.
[This was typed on mobile. I apologize in advance for the terrible formatting and spelling in addition to my post-book excited nonsensical ramblings.]
Excuse me while I scream and cry and bemoan the next 6 months we'll have to wait to see Sera and Nyktos and everyone again even though we literally just got the new book yesterday.
I'm so happy with where this book cutoff too. Like, there's still plenty that has to happen but there's no awful cliffhanger. The first like two thirds were a little bit of a struggle, not gonna lie, but in true JLA fashion that last third was *chef's kiss*.
I thought Nyktos was going to be my favorite character to come out of this book, as he had with the previous two, but he wasn't. It's fully Sera and by an absolute fucking mile. She's perfect.
The parallels in this book between Flesh and Fire and the Blood and Ash series were exactly what I've been hoping for. All the little pieces are starting to come together in a big way with the plot (pretty poppy, sotoria's whole storyline, why Kolis was never killed outright, etc.) but also all of the tiny little tidbits thrown in. Sera slamming her hands over her face, the cavern, how she keeps talking about how she would want to treat her kids...it was all so beautiful.
Getting to know some of the other characters better was great too. That was one of my biggest complaints, how so many of the side characters weren't fleshed out as far as they feel like they could have been. That changed quite a bit with Attes and Rhain, but even the villainous characters like Callum, Kyn, Veses, and Calliphe. The depth they're given without giving a pass to the awful things they've committed was masterfully executed.
I will say, on a very personal and petty side note, there was a severe lack of young draken in this one, and I will pout until May about the lack of Jadis and Reaver. However, that part where Sera is mostly unaware in her dreamlike state, while but she feels Jadis on her legs was just too cute for words.
Speaking of words, my GODS did Nyktos have some. I was a little worried with as little page time that boy had in the first two thirds that they weren't going to be able to flesh him out enough to satisfy, but ho mama was so wrong. Chapter 39 to finish was perfection of every kind. Heartbreaking and hot and sweet.
And if anyone has a petition going for an ASOAAB type book of Sera in stasis from Nyktos' perspective, I will totally sign it.
Seeing Sera go full Primal in the next book will be so worth the wait. I desperately need to see her talk to Ezra again too.
Rating: 5 stars
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guerrerense · 9 months ago
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ČD 754 074 + 242 211 Veseli Nad Lužnicí
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ČD 754 074 + 242 211 Veseli Nad Lužnicí por New Engine Desperado
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moviesandmania · 1 year ago
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MONOLITH (2022) Reviews, trailer and US release news
‘All you have to do is listen��� Monolith is a 2022 sci-fi thriller film in which a disgraced journalist discovers a strange artefact and a possible alien conspiracy. Directed by Matt Vesely from a screenplay written by Lucy Campbell. Produced by Bettina Hamilton. The Australian production stars Lily Sullivan, the only on-screen actor in the film. Reviews: ” …strangely gripping supernatural…
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longeyelashedtragedy · 1 year ago
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november 2023 favorites
new bottega (the better version1!!) - azaelia banks
anna wintour - azaelia banks (somehow i missed this when it came out? but it autoplayed and it goes SO hard)
how lucky - kurt vile/john prine
speed of the sound of loneliness (i had no idea this was a john prine song? i'd learned some other cover of it that wasn't that nice, but i like this kurt vile one)
love like this - faith evans (i hadn't thought of this banger in SO long)
fallen - 30 seconds to mars (from the 'do you like this song' tumblr...this is so nostalgic i have to enjoy it lol)
from a buick 6 (alternate take) - bob dylan (this is my fav dylan song but i sometimes forget it exists)
operator - the manhattan transfer (my dad always used to play this as a kid! i have it on my Birthday Playlist that i listen to sometimes)
hava - dj jack & nika veseli
bittersweet symphony - the verve (of course...this is like pink floyd in that as much as i liked it in high school it has wayyyy more meaning as an adult)
i listened to other stuff this month but it was so inconsequential it wouldn't even be noteworthy to put on...some months be like that
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darkmaga-returns · 23 days ago
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NATO: Wartime Mindset Needed. Peace In Ukraine. Syria’s new patron? X CEO endorses digital censorship bill. Jordan Peterson Flees Totalitarian Hellhole. Flu vaccine efficacy estimates are meaningless
Lioness of Judah Ministry
Dec 16, 2024
NATO Head Says "Wartime Mindset" Needed; Redirect "Pensions, Health, Social Security" To Military Spending
“Freedom does not come for free.”
Former Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte, who was this year selected as the Secretary General of NATO, has stated that Europeans need to “shift to a wartime mindset” and that military spending must be increased, likely at the expense of things like health care. Rutte made the remarks at, ironically, a meeting of The Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Brussels, declaring that Russia is trying to “crush our freedom and way of life.” “Hostile actions against Allied countries are real and accelerating… These attacks are not just isolated incidents. They are the result of a coordinated campaign to destabilise our societies and discourage us from supporting Ukraine,” he added.
UK PM calls for ‘maximum pain’ on Russia
Keir Starmer has urged his G7 counterparts to increase sanctions on Moscow and send more military aid to Kiev
British Prime Minister Keir Starmer has called on his fellow G7 leaders to “continue maximizing Putin’s pain” through economic sanctions on Russia and increased military aid to Ukraine. During a video conference on Friday, “the Prime Minister said that with [Russian President Vladimir] Putin showing no sign of relenting, it is vital that we bolster our support to put [Ukraine] in the best possible position for the future,” according to a readout released by his office. “He called on fellow G7 leaders to continue maximizing Putin’s pain by increasing military support to the Ukrainians and ramping up economic pressure, including via further sanctions where possible,” the statement continued.
Russian forces destroy more Ukrainian Patriot launchers – MOD
Over the past 24 hours, Moscow’s troops have liberated two more villages in the Donbass, the military says
Russian forces have destroyed four Patriot anti-aircraft missile launchers provided to Ukraine by Western nations, the Defense Ministry in Moscow said on Saturday. Russian Air Force jets, along with drones and artillery groups, “destroyed a combat control vehicle, an AN/MPQ-65 radar station and four launchers of the Patriot anti-aircraft missile system made in the US,” the military said in a statement. In addition, over the past 24 hours Russian troops have liberated two villages in the Donetsk People’s Republic (DPR). One of them, Vesely Gai, is located 10 km south of the embattled town of Kurakhovo, and the other village – Pushkino – is 15 km south of Pokrovsk.
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metalshockfinland · 1 month ago
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ASYMMETRIC UNIVERSE Release New Single And Video 'Opaco'
Photo source: https://www.facebook.com/asymmetricuniverse InsideOutMusic recently signing of Italian instrumental, prog-metal fusionists ASYMMETRIC UNIVERSE to a new worldwide deal. The band, formed by brothers Federico Vese & Nicolò Vese, played some select live shows this past Summer, including a rapturously received set at Arctangent Festival in the UK. Today the band are pleased to launch a…
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Isolated
Resurrected Verse
@xx--ofmanythoughts--xx
Jacaerys had been keeping to himself. He had been hiding in truth. He was a coward, Jace knew that. Jace was a coward to his core.
The prince had been hiding out in a small cabin deep in the forest ever since he had returned to the shores of Westeros. His little brother Aegon was on the throne, his only brother. All alone and Jace had remained hidden. Not revealed he had survived. If he could call it that. Jacaerys wasn't sure he could. Jace had died at the Gullett and then brought back by forces he didn't even understand.
Jace didn't remember everything. It was coming back in pieces, but not always in order. The Velaryon didn't know what help he could be to Aegon if he should even show his face again. So he didn't. He remained hidden, trying to decide what to do.
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night-city-renegades · 2 months ago
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CREWMEMBERS
Before I get to the juicy bits of our story, I should probably give a quick roll-call to the gonks that run the streets of Night City.
"Spunky Booster" - Our resident Hothead, Spunky was one of two twin daughters to a London Mob Boss. However, discovering some of their Family's darker Business, she devoted the rest of her adolescence to tarnishing their reputation, adopting a Punk Rock aesthetic and trashing reputable establishments as a form of rebellion. One particular instance brought government attention to her Father's dealings, which finally broke his tenuous patience. Selling her to associates in Night City, she was forced into Brothel Work, but she took matters into her own hands, killing one of her captors and eacaping. Taken in by a local street band, "CxNTROL/ALT/DELETE," she uses her anger and hostility to spit hate (and lead) at Night City's Gangs.
"Thardus" - A Gun-For-Hire, this Solo bears a dark past. The son of the Don of a Pacific Island Mafia Branch in Night City, the Pepe Aeto, Thardus enjoyed a rather lavish life. However, rather than indulge in the safety net his position supplied, he took active hand in Family dealings, performing hits and network to further his Family's Goals. However, a local Gang, The Los Illuminados, killed his Mother and Father in an Initiation Ceremony, kick-starting a War between the two Crime Syndicates. After days of fighting, the Pepe Aeto were no more, either killed or imprisoned by their rivals. The Sole Pepe Aeto, Thardus wanders across the desolate streets, gun in hand, to find meaning, and more importantly, a new Family.
Norman Skye - Born on the Sea, Norman was a Pirate in the Atlantic, living off a Ukrainian Oil Rig co-opted by 2 Nomad Families. Life was rough, and the Sea was rougher; Fishing Dried up, so they turned to Piracy to stay afloat. Then, ships stopped coming through their waters. Tensions were high, and in a desperate gambit, Norman and another Family member, his friend and Half-Brother Ivan, attempted to steal valuables from the other family under the cover of night. The hope was to purchase a ticket for their family to hop on the next Cargo Ship. They waited for a heavy storm for cover, and although they managed to secure the Valuable Cargo, the alarm was raised. Norman ran as fast as he could, and made it back to camp. Ivan was found the next morning, floating in the waters below. A gunfight ensued, many Nomads on both sides lost their lives, but finally, the Skyes found their way on a Ship. Traveling from coast to coast, their last stop signaled their departure; the Port of Night City.
Marek "Veðrfölnir" Vesely - A Ripperdoc hailing from the Czech Republic, Marek Vesely found himself uprooted from his childhood home and shipped to Night City; Marek's Father, a Militech Engineer, landed himself a rather cushy gig. This opportunity allowed Marek to establish himself in Academia, and he achieved his Medical Degree freshly out of School. His Medical License was freshly around the corner, but it was practically a done deal. So when Clients began to approach him from in the company, seeking cheap Implants on the down-low, who was he to refuse? One client in particular payed rather handsomely for his work; it's a shame he turned up dead, a supposed critical malfunction from poor installation by an unlicenced Ripperdoc. Marek spent 9 years in NC Penitentiary, his Father demoted, and upon his sentence served, he wasn't welcomed back to the Family. Almost dying on the streets, Marek was taken in by a local Ripper, and after establishing his own clinic, Veðrfölnir bides his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to clear his name and leave these Gutters behind.
"Ghoti" - The first thing Ghoti remembers is Corporate Soldiers invading the Sea Vessel he was on, his parents murdered in the attack. The soldier that found him couldn't find it in him to kill a defenseless child, so he was brought back to the local Arasaka branch for processing. No papers, proof of citizenship, or even identification on file, the child was no one. From Branch to Branch, he was shipped around, finally ending up in Night City in an Education Facility, to train AV Techs for the Arasaka Corporation. A few years went by, and Ghoti had proven himself a whiz with Machinery. However, the Headmaster of the Facility received word that due to low scores, the Facility was to be shut down, unless "Emergency Liquidation" was enacted. One night, the ventilation shut off, and the children began to suffocate, and it was only due to the quick thinking of Ghoti that the children lived at all. An Auditor came in next day and declared the jobs the children were training for were no longer available, which freed the children to the streets. Ghoti found himself working at an Auto Garage, working for Ennies, but if given the chance, he'd always take the risk for more.
"Oberon" - An enigmatic Author, Oberon grew up extremely sheltered from the rest of the world, and so the Collapse simply blew right by him. Born in the ever-shrinking Middle Class, Oberon managed to dance the line between Corporate Shill and Homeless Streetrat, landing himself a nice gig at a Publishing Firm in Night City. However, always ready to take on another challenge, Oberon sought to write a novel exposing the systems of control the Corps exploited to manipulate the masses for profit, and took to the streets for inspiration; and inspiration he found...
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ursapardaowl · 2 months ago
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MEU CADERNO DE DESENHO FICOU SEM PAPEL DEPOIS QUE DESENHEI O TYPHLOSION TANTAS VESES, MAIS AGORA EU TENHO UM NOVO E ENCHI ELE DE DESHENHOS!!!! E IREI POSTA TODOS OS DESENHOS AQUI!
ENGLISH:
MY DRAWBOOK RUN OUT OF PAPER AFTER I DRAWED TYPHLOSION SO MANY TIMES, BUT NOW I HAVE A NEW ONE AND I FILLED IT WITH DRAWINGS!!!! AND I WILL POST ALL THE DRAWINGS HERE!
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ghostlyartisanlove · 5 months ago
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HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY MY SUNSHINE
It's been years since we're together. I met you when you were 16, I never knew when I saw you first that we'll be living this dream.
I was 15teen and was just looking for some new beginnings, then God made me met you and since then we're in a same team!
Happiest birthday to you, my twin flame🤍🧚🏻‍♀️
Just like our names, our souls and dreams are same.
It was unexpected to met you and become soo close in a short period of time. But when I think about us it feels like we know each other from a lifetime.
Meeting you was like founding a lost page from my diary and when i read it i realised it belongs to the diary i write.
I can name that diary the story of my life.
Kitna ajeeb hai you're going to be legal this year and turn 18teen ( I'm feeling like you're becoming a mother) while I'll stay illegal and do crimes. haha when someone will tell me to bring a trusted adult I will call you and everything will be fine (bkchod lines be like).
THE SISTERHOOD WE SHARE IS ONE OF THE BEST THINGS HAPPENED TO ME🤍🧜🏻‍♀️ YAYA
I love your company 🦭and spending time with you and cracking jokes , eating and bakchodi maarna,is my favourite. I love you soo much. You don't know how much problems I forget whenever I spend time with you. You loved and helped me through the darkest times of my life, you're my sunshine 💛.
Aur I love you Bhai I never want to lose you to be honest. I want to travel and eat and yap with you for the rest of my life. And match our outfits while buying a house in nyc🦭. And there are soo many things I wanna say but ab me thak gayi soo itna kaafi h vese sun lio baaki ka. Lol lamo🙂‍↕️😆😆
I love you soo much sweety 🦭🤍🧚🏻‍♀️I trust you soo much No matter how many friends I'll make no one can ever replace you. 🎀
Once again happiest birthday darling may Jesus bless you and you get your dream body and wishes and be famous and be a rich gal. And glow up in this new season and all your manifestation come true💋🎀🎀❤️❤️🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️ mwwwwwewwaaaahhhhhhhhhh
I love you, always there for you🦭🍾🧚🏻‍♀️❤️🎀
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the-void-writes · 5 months ago
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"Why wasn't I good enough for you?"
Hello and thank you!!! I am so sorry this took like a year to answer 😅 This was just going to be something small, but then I kept getting ideas, and now it’s getting way too long. So I figured I’d do what I did last time and post it all in segments. Again, thank you so much for this ask!
Freaks Of Preston - A Real Hero
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Summary: Will is taking the subway to see a new doctor. Along for the ride is Jason, his godfather and guardian, and Isaiah, the birth father who hurt him. Tensions rise between the two dads, for everyone’s viewing.
WC: 1.1k
TW: Mentions of past child abuse (and maybe a brief present depiction because Isaiah shouts at and forcefully grabs his son). There’s also a quick description of a train crash.
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The subway ride was suffocating, for more reasons than just the size of the car. Will could have cut the tension in the air with a knife. He sat on the left-most part of the bench, with Jason placed firmly between him and Isaiah. Every half a minute, Jason would stare daggers into the larger man, hands twitching whenever Isaiah so much as scratched his neck.
They were heading into Hazelton for the day to meet with a new doctor. Will’s debilitating health was an absolute mystery to the physicians in Preston— they were likely covering up for Vesely, who seemed to have an extensive reach into many businesses’ wallets. If there was any hope for a cure, it would have to be from outside of town.
Will’s mother was stuck at work, and the doctor required at least one of Will’s legal parents, so they had begrudgingly called Isaiah. His charges had been dropped— again— though Will could sadly understand it this time, seeing as he had crushed Isaiah’s arm in an act of blind rage. An eye for an eye, Vesely had said, a necessary exchange, but Will couldn’t believe that. It was a miracle that the boy hadn’t been locked up, though Will suspected that Jason had something to do with that. Any time they passed an officer in Preston, they stiffened as though Jason was an army general, coming to chew them out for a mistake.
That natural intimidation was working on Isaiah, as well. He never laid his eyes on Will, out of fear of what Jason might do to him. Instead, he made a bigger mistake by trying to talk.
“You didn’t have to come, you know.”
Jason flicked his eyes towards Isaiah swiftly, like a sharp stab to the chest. His voice was smooth and cold.
“There’s no way I’ll ever leave Will alone with you again.”
Isaiah closed his eyes. “I know, but you’re putting yourself at risk. The two of you in the same area could draw more attention—”
“I don’t know if it’s come to your attention, but I don’t care if people know what I am. Gabe has hurt us more than your people ever could.”
He stared ahead at the brick walls flying past them through the window, gripping the bench tightly. Will knew that his stress came from more than just Isaiah— the subway itself was a nightmare for Jason. Ves Corp had a similar system for their monorail, and it broke down nearly every week. That was how Will discovered his godfather was claustrophobic. He gave Jason’s hand a gentle pat, getting him to slowly relax his grip.
As their uncomfortable journey continued, Will looked at the passengers around him. There was a young couple on the bench across from him, dressed like they were heading for church on Easter, even though it was autumn. On the bench next to them, there were three tall people in identical pinstripe jackets, with their lips pursed in unison as they looked over their planners. Further down past some older businessmen, there was a woman holding a young boy, who talked excitedly to the elderly couple across from them about his day at the park.
They were ordinary citizens, nothing particularly outstanding or noteworthy, but Will was so happy to see them, because they didn’t even look his way. The nicest part of going to a new city was that people didn’t immediately know he was a Freak. They didn’t stare at him, or call him names, or try to trip him on his way to his seat. He was just a normal kid on a subway— Well, a normal kid with a sickly appearance, a duffel bag full of medical devices, and what looked to be two fathers in a silent argument.
“So,” Isaiah said, lowering his voice, “it’s a parasite?”
A smile formed on Jason’s face, though it was anything but kind. His eyes held pure contempt for the man beside him.
“Bravo, Isaiah. You actually showed interest in your son’s condition.”
“I don’t need the sass.”
“And your son didn’t need his head split open.”
Isaiah rested his head against the window. “I get it, I’ve messed up, but—”
“Messed up? Is that what you call it?”
“I’ve made terrible mistakes.”
“You threw your fever-stricken son down a staircase. You’re past the point of ‘mistakes.’”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Let the whole car hear, for all I care! You’re a monster, Isaiah.”
“Which one of us trained children for war?”
Jason clenched his fists. “I already hate myself for that. I don’t hold myself on a pedestal the way that you do.”
Will tried to speak up, but Isaiah cut him off, gaining the attention of everyone nearby.
“I never asked for Preston to treat me like a hero! I wanted a normal fucking life with my family! William is the one who destroyed that for us.”
Finally, Will was able to get a word in. “How, damn it? How did I ruin your perfect life?”
“You exposed yourself to the public.”
“I did it to save Mom! Why don’t you realize that? Why is everything I do wrong in your eyes?”
In an instant, Isaiah grabbed the collar of his shirt with his one good hand. “You doomed us all, don’t you get it?!”
The other passengers stood up in alarm, some trying to push Isaiah away, while Jason tore Will from his grasp. The conductor even rushed down and pulled Isaiah away from the seat. Will gripped his sleeves as his power swelled in his wrists, overwhelmed by the chaos that surrounded him. His heart pounded in his ears like a symphony of drums.
“It was a mistake to bring you,” he heard Jason say somewhere over the noise. “You may share blood, but you’ve lost the right to be his father.”
“I’ve got news for you, Jay: He’s not your kid. You’re a backup choice, an afterthought. You’re not a real part of this family.”
“Sir,” the conductor yelled, “that’s enough!”
Isaiah struggled against him as he tried to pry him away from his son. Will felt too dizzy to speak, as though his brain was rattling around in his skull. As he rested his hands on the bench, he realized that it was the motion of the train throwing him back and forth.
A loud rumble and the screeching of metal caught everyone’s attention, followed by intense shaking as the subway jumped off of its track. Then, in the blink of an eye, the world began to spin. Passengers flew every which way, flailing and yelling as their car violently fell on its side. Finally, the shaking and sliding stopped, and everyone was still.
Will blinked rapidly, trying to make the world come back into focus. The window he had landed on was splintering under his weight. He couldn’t concentrate enough to push himself away. Both of his arms— which were already weakened from testing, disease, and past abuse— burned with pain. Eventually, Will had to give up on moving, and he closed his eyes.
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praza-catalunya · 7 months ago
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Louis Stettner, fotografía directa e comprometida
As imaxes que saen dunha cámara de retratar poden semellar sempre iguais e, polo contrario, sempre presentan perspectivas de vida distintas. Cómpre ter un talento especial para que un artista pare os seus ollos, deteña as súas sensibilidades en captar as realidades máis cotiás, aquelas que perden interese para a maioría dos mortais. Louis Stettner forma parte desa lexión de retratistas que se moveron polas sensibilidades que se achegan ás persoas traballadoras, a aquelas que non son protagonistas.
Lito Caramés
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Stettner. Woman Holding Newspaper,  1946
Louis Stettner. KBr Barcelona Photo Center
Was somebody asking to see the soul? / See, your own shape and countenance, persons, substances, beasts, the trees, the running rivers, the rocks and sands. / All hold spiritual joys and afterwards loosen them; How can the real body ever die and be buried? / Of your real body and any man’s or woman’s real body, / Item for item it will elude the hands of the corpse-cleaners and pass to fitting spheres, / Carrying what has accrued to it from the moment of birth to the moment of death. (W. Witman. Leaves of grass, 1855).
A Fundación Mapfre, por medio do seu establecemento KBr Barcelona Photo Center (referencia fundamental do mundo da fotografía na capital catalá), presenta estes meses de mediados de 2024 a mostra Louis Stettner, sen adxectivos, e a carón da presentación en España da fotógrafa chilena Paz Errázuriz, outra mostra realmente magnífica. Ambos fotógrafos -fóra de cronoloxías- comparten as súas principais preocupacións pola humanidade. Trátase da retrospectiva máis ampla e completa que se leva feito das obras de Stettner, aquí e en calquera outro lugar; xa estivo en Madrid e, posteriormente, viaxará por Europa e os EEUU de Norteamérica. A escolma antolóxica está conformada por máis de 180 fotografías, case todas elas do fondo documental da propia Fundación Mapfre. Todo un luxo. As creacións do autor de Tony, Ibiza, aínda que compañeiro e amigo doutros retratistas ben coñecidos, non tivo moita sona ata hai pouco tempo. Quedaron relegadas (pola ideas de esquerdas do seu autor?).
A retrospectiva Louis Stettner preséntase ao público nas salas do KBr de xeito cronolóxico, o que permite seguir os vieiros vitais e profesionais do fotógrafo. Así é doado acompañalo nas súas paseadas polas rúas do New York, logo polo París destruído tras a II Guerra Mundial, e o regreso á súa cidade de sempre, así como as viaxes para coñecer ás poboacións traballadoras en calquera lugar do planeta. Visitou a URSS ou España, Italia e outras zonas europeas. Nestas peripecias vivenciais tamén cómpre incluír a diversidade temática cara a que dirixe a súa cámara o autor da serie Bowery. Levado pola curiosidade cara as persoas, vainas retratando amoreadas en vagóns ferroviarios ou intúe a súa perda nesas rúas baleiras, inquietantes; atráenlle as traballadoras e traballadoras en plena xornada laboral e tamén algunhas formacións vexetais do sur de Francia.
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Stettner. Aubervillers, 1947
O fotógrafo Louis Stettner viviu, fundamentalmente, a cabalo entre New York e mais París. Pasaba décadas nunha desas cidade para logo mudarse á outra. E nas súas creacións vese bastante a influencia dos xeitos de traballar na metrópole do río Hudson: a fotografía de rúa, combinado co humanismo que rezuman os traballos deitados na capital francesa. Ese humanismo que escribiu sempre sentiu na capital francesa levouno a escribir cousas como Yes, my “Workers” series is my paean of praise, a long heroic poem in homage to working and salaried people everywhere. It was as if I wanted the lyricism of Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel brought down to earth, finding it in the everyday factory. A poética da vida das persoas que traballan.
No ano 2008 o MACBA (Museu d’Art Comporani de Barcelona) presentou a exhaustiva mostra Sota la Bomba. El jazz de la guerra d'imatges transatlántica. 1946-1956. Naquelas salas a hipótese a demostrar era a evidente diferencia de creación artística entre o vello e o novo continente; todo focalizado en dúas cidades: París e New York. No París de posguerra (ese que tan ben coñeceu, e retratou, Stettner) a creación prestaba atención ás persoas, o humanismo que aínda capitaneaban Picasso e mais Matisse. En New York mandaba a rapazada da Escola de New York, os Pollock’s Boys, tan empregados pola CIA nas súas guerras frías contra o comunismo. Esa realidade que tan ben se divisaba percorrendo as salas do MACBA, agora é doado facelo contemplando as imaxes xeradas por Louis Stettner. A mostra Louis Stettner está comisariada por Sally Martin Katz, experta na obra de Stettner e comisaria adscrita ao SFMOMA. Acompañando ás case 200 imaxes do fotógrafo, a Fundación Mapfre publica un excelente catálogo de Louis Stettner.
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Stettner. Tony, Ibiza, 1956
Louis Stettner. Atget, Brassaï
Like Atget, who at the begining of his century took moving such at photographs of the streets and hoauses of Paris, Stettnet also points his camera, not at the living, who hurrying, preocupied, tired, appear only between two subway trains, but at their environment. And what a camera! He has adquired a square, antidiluvian box with a robust tripod, and this is the monster, ridiculus in our day, that he trusts around and plants in view of streets and hauses of the 14th Arrondisement. (Brassaï, no prefacio do libro 10 Photographs by Louis Stettner, 1949).
Cando Stettner chega por primeira vez a París, ano 1947 (en principio para estar tres semanas; na realidade foron 5 anos), o fotógrafo atópase nas ribeiras do Sena como na súa casa. E alí fará unha serie completa de capturas -tomadas moi cedo- sobre as rúas baleiras de París; a populosa urbe sen xentes. Son tomas nas que tampouco procura as rúas onde viven as xentes ricas, non; rúas de barrio traballador. Cal é a intención? Segundo explicou o propio retratista, levado polo seu humanismo quería representar a devastación da guerra, a desolación, as perdas humanas. Non se deixou levar polo “intre decisivo”, fuxidío, nin se parou a retratar bicos de mariñeiros e mozas (totalmente amañados, como se demostrou máis tarde). Non. A dureza da vida de posguerra. Nisto, como ben apunta Brassaï na introdución ao libro 10 Photographs by Louis Stettner, o autor da serie Workers segue os vieiros que xa outros riscaran nesa mesma cidade. Primeiro foi Eugène Atget que se fartou de facer tomas das rúas parisienses de comezos de século XX sen habitantes; só arquitectura. E máis tarde é o propio Brassaï o que fai o mesmo para o seu libro París de Nuit. De 1933. Por iso, acabando os anos 40 pode presentar con toda autoridade as imaxes de Stettner.
Louis Stettner comezou na fotografía en New York. Alí logo se xunta coas persoas que forman parte da Photo Leage. Trátase dunha cooperativa de traballadores (mormente fotógrafos) onde estiveron desde o principio persoas moi coñecidas e sobranceiras como Berenice Abbott ou Aaron Siskind, Paul Strand ou Louis Stettner. En concreto Stettner foi moi amigo de Paul Strand e nas súas fotografías percíbese perfectamente a sintonía que os dous sentían polos mesmos temas e intereses sociais. Algunha imaxes mesmo custa diferenciar se son toradas por un ou polo outro (tal como acontece co caso de Aubervilliers, 1947). Nese grupo de persoas inquietas Stettner comeza a facer prácticas coñecidas como a straight photography, a fotografía directa, moi relacionada coa street photography. Un cambio radical, nada que ver co pictorialismo nin outras tendencias esteticistas. Stettner, como no caso de Strand, foi unha persoa de ideas marxistas, por iso, fose onde fose, sempre lle preocuparon os temas sociais. Desde comezos do século XX moitos fotógrafos progresistas miraron de atopar un vieiro propio para a fotografía artística, tendo a vida cotiá e o mundo laboral como referentes, sen ter que copiar da pintura. A straight photography foi unha das súas ferramentas para logralo. Por iso, Stettner percorrerá países e rexións sempre captando as persoas nos seus postos de traballo. E os seus ollares presentarán a esas persoas con dignidade, conscientes das tarefas que están a facer na fábrica, obradoiro ou campo e mar.
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Stettner. Assembly Line Worker, 1972
O feito de ter sido fotógrafo perante a II Guerra Mundial aínda o condicionou máis e o orientou cara a humanidade, a valía da persoas; a grandeza da persoa que traballa, vive, loita día a día. Os seus temas están case en exclusiva centrados na figura humana (niso tamén coincide coa fotógrafa chilena Paz Errázuriz, coa que agora coincide nas salas do KBr de Barcelona). As lecturas de Marx ou de Whitman (a quen le e admira desde a adolescencia) aínda o encamiñan máis por eses mesmos vieiros humanistas. Para moitos dos seus compañeiros e amigos, a fotografía é unha ferramenta que se pode empregar para favorecer os cambios sociais. Procurando o benestar, celebrar a vida.
Louis Stettner escribiu moito; publicou durante décadas artigos sobre fotografía e sobre política en diversas revistas. É ben coñecida a súa sección Speaking out, que publicaba periodicamente na revista Camera 35. Nesa sección deixábase ganar pola paixón sobre o seu oficio e tamén sobre a vida. Nun deses artigos escribiu: No matter how intimate, how well you know a person, you can never tell how a portrait will turn out. Almost as if a human being is so complex, we can never hope to grasp him fully, nor can he or she ever hope to be aware of their total being. Coido que este breve parágrafo permite coñecer o respecto que o autor de The Family Manege 14e Arrondisement (1949) sinte en todo momento polas persoas. Mesmo nesta imaxe que se acaba de citar (The Family Manege), onde Stettner capta a tres persoas camiñando por unha “rue” parisiense un día de inverno, en vez de ser unha visión do frío, do desasosego, acaba por transformarse nunha sorte de baile, quizais de baile de máscaras, onde non hai faces, non hai fasquías individualizadoras, e si un canto ao afecto, á harmonía do casal que carga co fillo. Unha imaxe conmovedora.
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Stettner. Aluminum Foundry, Soviet Union, 1975
As imaxes de Stettner teñen poesía. As súas instantáneas en branco e negro semellan estrofas de Witman; cada unha refire unha historia. Xa no século XXI, Stettner viaxou, outra volta, a New York e retratou mormente persoas na céntrica Times Square. Esas imaxes, con cores bastante saturados, recordan ás que -polos anos 60 e 70, contra todo prognóstico- xa facía William Egleston, o fotógrafo das imaxes banais, e ás que tamén cedo decidiu facer Saul Leiter, o fotógrafo de New York. Aínda que nas de Stettner -como nas do seu amigo Strand- o interese polas persoas salta a primeiro plano e enche a imaxe de humanidade.
No ano 1956 Stettner estivo na illa de Ibiza, e pasou dous días con dous pescadores daquela illa: Pepe e mais Tony. Acompañounos no seu traballo a bordo da súa barca, no seu traballo cotiá. E a reportaxe que agora se pode ver en KBr (Louis Stettner) é outro canto máis á vida dura desas dúas persoas en pleno traballo. Os planos de todas esas instantáneas é moi próximo (en moitos casos non aparecen os corpos dos mariñeiros enteiros, porque no reducido espazo da barca, o fotógrafo non ten perspectiva suficiente). Torsos, brazos, mans, faces; a loita diaria do primeiro plano en contraste coa poética do marco, do fondo; do mar Mediterráneo:
Lito Caramés
EXPOSICIÓN: Louis Stettner KBr Barcelona Photo Center Fundación Mapfre ata o 15 de setembro de 2024
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Stettner. Demonstrators on March in Support of United Farm Workers, 1975
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