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03/08/2024-Radiant shades of blue and purple: One of my first Chalkhill Blues and harebells of the year at Stockbridge Down and views at Stockbridge Common Marsh as well as Cinnabar moth caterpillar at Stockbridge Down and Tufted Ducks probably young at Stockbridge Common Marsh.
Other highlights across the two locations were an excellent Essex Skipper also my first of the year taking my year list to a pleasing 40 to make it my fifth highest ever butterfly year list, Small Skipper, some of the most Meadow Browns I've ever seen with eighty counted in a Big Butterfly Count at Stockbridge Down, Gatekeeper, Large White, Common Blue, Wavy-barred Sable, Silver Y, Six-spot Burnet, a bird of prey quadruple in Buzzards, Kestrels, Red Kite and Sparrowhawk, Goldfinch, Swallow, House Martin, Seven-spotted Ladybird, dashing Hornet Mimic hoverfly, wild basil, marjoram, common toadflax, centaury, bird's-foot trefoil, knapweed, herb-Robert, meadowsweet, eyebright, dark mullein, soapwort, rosebay willowherb, purple loosestrife, St. John's-wort, ragwort, bramble flower and blackberries and blackthorn sloes.
#photography#swallow#chalkhill blue#essex skipper#2024#walking#summer#stockbridge down#meadow brown#sparrowhawk#red kite#common blue#stockbridge common marsh#st. john's-wort#birdwatching#flowers#big butterfly count#seven-spotted ladybird#colourful#august#buzzard#kestrel#outdoors#earth#europe
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Norman Rockwell
Norman Rockwell (1894–1978) was a prolific American painter and illustrator, widely celebrated for his iconic depictions of American life. His works, characterized by their warmth, humor, and keen observation of everyday scenes, have left an indelible mark on American culture.
Early Life and Career
Norman Rockwell was born on February 3, 1894, in New York City. He displayed a talent for art at a young age and attended the Chase Art School, the National Academy of Design, and the Art Students League. His early influences included Howard Pyle and other illustrators of the "Golden Age of Illustration."
The Saturday Evening Post
Rockwell's career took a significant turn in 1916 when he began his long association with The Saturday Evening Post. Over the next 47 years, Rockwell created 323 covers for the magazine, each telling a story of American life with an engaging narrative quality. His ability to capture the essence of American culture made him a household name. Iconic covers such as "The Four Freedoms" series, inspired by President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s 1941 State of the Union address, encapsulated his talent for intertwining art with social and political themes.
Artistic Style and Themes
Rockwell's work is often characterized by its attention to detail, vibrant colors, and realism, yet it also carries a sense of idealism and optimism. He had a knack for portraying the subtleties of human expression and the complexities of everyday situations. Common themes in his work include family life, childhood, and civic duty, reflecting his belief in the fundamental goodness of people.
Major Works and Contributions
The Four Freedoms (1943): A series of four oil paintings—Freedom of Speech, Freedom of Worship, Freedom from Want, and Freedom from Fear—that visually expressed the core freedoms mentioned by Roosevelt. These works were used to promote war bonds and became some of his most famous pieces.
Rosie the Riveter (1943): This iconic image of a muscular woman taking a break from her riveting work during World War II became a symbol of female empowerment and contribution to the war effort.
The Problem We All Live With (1964): This powerful piece depicts six-year-old Ruby Bridges being escorted by federal marshals to an all-white school in New Orleans, highlighting the struggle for civil rights in America.
Later Years and Legacy
In his later years, Rockwell's work took on more serious and socially conscious themes, reflecting the changing times of the 1960s and 1970s. He tackled issues such as civil rights, poverty, and space exploration.
Rockwell passed away on November 8, 1978, in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. His legacy lives on through his art, which continues to be celebrated for its ability to tell compelling stories and evoke a deep sense of nostalgia and Americana.
Rockwell's Influence and Recognition
Norman Rockwell's influence extends beyond his illustrations. His art has been exhibited in numerous museums, and the Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, is dedicated to his work, housing the largest collection of his original art. He received the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1977, recognizing his significant contribution to American culture.
Rockwell’s ability to capture the essence of American life, his storytelling prowess, and his attention to the human condition have cemented his place as one of the most beloved and enduring American artists. His works continue to inspire and resonate with audiences, offering a window into the heart and soul of 20th-century America.
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Report on MUD/MUX/MUSH/MUCK
As of 20 years ago, I initiated an Office of Naval Intelligence report (ONI) to Hampshire University, on the MUSH project, as sexually bereft of morals; homosexual. I was placed, by campus police, as a media fraud expert, to trace the project back to their national backers, outside of American range of FBI records, to the Bush administration. The objective, was a wide scale wipe-out, through a planted organ theft rumor, Wagner. The objective, was revealed to be Israel, visible in recent news.
As of 18 years ago, I made contact with Hell's Angels relatives, out of COBRA MUSH resources, the UMass-Amherst Stockbridge uniform; a false bluff, with those biker mamas and their minions, out of Marvel Comics, framing each other as homophobics, heterosexual police; the modeling of the Juice Ortiz character, a One Percenter, the leadership of a gang through Canadian intelligence, and the shutdown of MUCKs and MUSHes, out of Sandi MacDonald's candidacy for MUSH President; a clandestine rank, held out of Marvel Comics.
As of 15 years ago, I initiated a revoked referendum, on marijuana, and through it, an end to Deval Patrick, Joshua Golden, and Jack Chick, the backers of the white state police benefits of the common poor, the Sid Meier Apple investment in marijuana, and the prison investment in monitoring of systems, an Army Intelligence investigation in tracking and monitoring of systems, through backtraced i2 hubs, the term for a sharing monitor program through mySQL used by less scrupulous police forces, to hunt or intimidate MUSHers that were novelists, instead of corporate savantes; the aristocrats of the world, however sampling fear and phobia, hospital technical staff and psychology related majors; producing propanda for the Third World, to remain in fear and strife and war, for cheap numbers of immigrant labor; advertised by film and genocide documentaries.
As of 10 years ago, I enrolled at SNHU, an Army Reserve college, as a comic books writer; declared Alterna Comics, and tagged Marvel Comics by Scott Brown; the death of several comics editors, out of Megaton Comics, a fraud brand, through printing stolen Capcom and US Navy ideograms from various MUSHers, each time printing one's own work already stolen, such as through "Arkham Asylum", "Calexit", and "The Last Witchhunter", plus "The Nolan Trilogy", "Gotham", "Quake", "Team Fortress Classic", and "Grand Theft Auto".
As of 4 years ago, I incarcerated dozens of MUSH veterans, beginning with Dr. Joshua Golden and his hospital firm, and ending in Will Morgan Jr. and his publication print company; between all of them, all five, the Brad Neely team, printing Ivan Tomasic, a random serial killer, as "Babycakes", the January 15th birthday; Scarecrow, actually my birthday and character.
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The Secret to Ageless Elegance: Botox Treatments in Edinburgh
In the picturesque city of Edinburgh, where history meets modernity, a secret to ageless elegance is quietly transforming faces—the power of Botox treatments. From the cobbled streets of the Old Town to the chic boutiques of Stockbridge, individuals are discovering the rejuvenating effects of Botox, unlocking a newfound sense of confidence and timeless beauty. Let's delve into the allure of Botox treatments in Edinburgh, exploring their benefits, dispelling myths, and celebrating the pursuit of ageless elegance.
Unlocking Youthful Radiance: Understanding Botox Treatments
Botox in edinburgh, derived from the bacterium Clostridium botulinum, is a neurotoxic protein that temporarily paralyzes muscle activity when injected into specific areas of the face. While renowned for its ability to smooth wrinkles and fine lines, Botox offers a spectrum of benefits beyond cosmetic enhancement. From alleviating migraines to treating hyperhidrosis, its versatility makes it a sought-after treatment in Edinburgh and beyond. By relaxing targeted muscles, Botox rejuvenates the skin, resulting in a refreshed and youthful appearance.
The Edinburgh Aesthetic: Embracing Timeless Beauty
In Edinburgh, a city steeped in tradition and elegance, the popularity of Botox treatments reflects a broader cultural shift towards embracing aging with grace and confidence. As residents navigate the demands of modern life while honoring the city's rich heritage, Botox offers a subtle yet effective way to maintain a youthful appearance without compromising authenticity. Whether attending a social event or presenting in a professional setting, individuals in Edinburgh seek Botox treatments to enhance their natural beauty and exude timeless elegance.
Debunking Misconceptions: Separating Fact from Fiction
Despite its widespread acceptance, Botox treatments are often surrounded by myths and misconceptions. Common concerns include fears of an unnatural appearance or potential safety risks. However, when administered by qualified practitioners in reputable clinics, Botox is a safe and well-tolerated procedure with minimal risks. Temporary side effects such as mild bruising or redness are rare and typically resolve quickly. By dispelling myths and providing accurate information, individuals can make informed decisions about pursuing Botox treatments in Edinburgh.
The Art of Subtlety: Achieving Natural-Looking Results
One of the hallmarks of successful Botox treatments is the ability to achieve natural-looking results that enhance rather than mask one's features. In Edinburgh, where understated elegance reigns supreme, individuals seek out skilled practitioners who prioritize subtlety and precision. By tailoring treatment plans to each individual's unique facial anatomy and aesthetic goals, practitioners can ensure that Botox treatments enhance their clients' natural beauty while preserving their facial expressions and personality.
Empowering Confidence: The Psychological Impact of Botox
Beyond its physical effects, Botox treatments have a profound psychological impact on individuals, boosting confidence and self-esteem. By addressing insecurities and restoring a youthful appearance, Botox empowers individuals to present themselves to the world with renewed confidence and vitality. Whether navigating social interactions, advancing in their careers, or pursuing personal goals, the confidence gained from Botox treatments extends beyond physical appearance, positively impacting every aspect of one's life.
Looking Towards the Future: Evolving Beauty Trends in Edinburgh
As Edinburgh continues to evolve as a cultural and economic hub, the demand for Botox treatments is expected to grow. With advancements in technology and techniques, the future of Botox in Edinburgh looks promising. From innovative treatment modalities to a greater emphasis on personalized care, individuals can expect even more tailored and effective solutions for achieving their aesthetic goals. As perceptions of beauty evolve, Botox remains a timeless and trusted tool for enhancing natural beauty and embracing ageless elegance in Edinburgh.
Conclusion: Embracing Timeless Beauty with Botox Treatments in Edinburgh
In the enchanting city of Edinburgh, Botox treatments represent more than just a cosmetic procedure—they embody a pursuit of ageless elegance and confidence. From their scientific mechanisms to their psychological impact, Botox treatments offer individuals the opportunity to enhance their appearance and embrace their natural beauty with grace and authenticity. As Edinburgh continues to honor its heritage while embracing modernity, Botox treatments stand as a testament to the city's commitment to timeless elegance and self-assurance.
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50 years later, fans still listening to Arlo Guthrie's 'Alice's Restaurant Massacree'
"This is the story of the time Arlo Guthrie and his friend, Richard Robbins, were arrested for littering in Stockbridge on Thanksgiving weekend in 1965. The two friends were guest’s at Alice and Ray Brock’s home, formerly the Trinity Church and now known as The Guthrie Center, an interfaith church established in 1991 in Housatonic.
This story is immortalized in a song about 18½ minutes long, and has become a staple on America's Thanksgiving playlist.\
Over 50 years later, USA Today recently caught up with Robbins in an interview.
“We did something really stupid 56 years ago when we were teenagers, and much to my surprise it’s still in the news every Thanksgiving,” Robbins says in a USA Today video. “Thanks to Arlo and his brilliant song: Alice’s Restaurant … They busted us for dumping some garbage, but it wasn't after the Thanksgiving dinner, we were there and we helped Ray clean out the church. And it was mostly, you know, pieces of wood and cardboard. Everyone thinks it was household garbage but it wasn’t.”
Alice’s Restaurant" is Arlo Guthrie’s debut album, released two years after the incident in 1967, and it made it to No. 17 on the Billboard charts, since then selling more than 1 million copies.
In 2014, Guthrie told Rolling Stone magazine he never intended to write a Thanksgiving song.
Guthrie, who has retired from touring and lives in the Berkshire County town of Washington, wrote the song in the two years that followed this incident, which led to his prohibition from being drafted in the Vietnam War.
As Guthrie recalls in the song, he tried to dodge the draft by showing up to his examination hung over and tried to convince the psychiatrist he was unfit to serve. But, it was because he had a criminal record of littering that he was deemed “morally unfit” to serve."
READ MORE https://www.berkshireeagle.com/news/local/arlo-guthrie-thanksgiving-arrest-stockbridge-rick-robbins-obie-draft/article_a7a2edf6-4c9b-11ec-a089-cf53d478c75c.html
"The biology of a pandemic is designed to show the limits of individualism and affirm a truth that’s too hard to keep in mind—our common humanity. Everyone is vulnerable.Everyone’s health depends on the health and behavior of others. No one is safe unless everyone takes responsibility for everyone else. No community or region can withstand the plague without an active national government. No country can end it alone."
2 pages /Book Excerpt (scroll down)
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How to Recognize Signs of Damage to Your Basement
There are many possible causes of basement damage, but the most common are flooding, seepage and leaks. If left unattended, these could cause serious and even irreversible destruction to your basement and property. Performing a regular inspection of your basement could help prevent costly repair and restoration work. ServiceMaster by LoveJoy has compiled some of the signs of basement water damage.
Signs of Water Damage to Your Basement
Here are some of the most common signs of basement water damage.
Wall, floor and foundation cracks
The presence of cracks on a basement's wall, floor or foundation indicates water pressure on your home's structure.
Small cracks can, over time, grow large and cause serious damage. It's time to contact a professional for assessment.
Call a professional immediately if you notice your walls shifting or becoming displaced.
Peeling paint
Peeling paint could be a sign of a deteriorating foundation due to surrounding water.
Be on the alert for spalling (cement beginning to flake under the paint) and efflorescence (accumulated white salt deposits on the foundation), which signal the presence of water. These are the early signs of structural failure.
Sinking floors
The cause of sinking floors isn't always evident, but it may be one of the most noticeable signs of water damage to your basement.
Sinking floors could be a symptom of damage to your structure or soil erosion underneath your foundation.
Have sinking floors assessed immediately before they worsen.
Musty smells
A musty odor originating from the basement that no cleaning, dehumidification or ventilation can remove indicates a serious problem.
It could mean that a leak is present or mold is growing.
Mold growth
Mold growth in your basement indicates water damage, as this fungus thrives in a wet, damp environment.
Look for signs of leaks or dripping water and call a restoration company right away.
Preventing Basement Water Damage
To prevent damages to your basement, perform a regular checkup especially during times of high moisture, such as floods or rain. This hurricane season, be sure to inspect your basements often to keep your structure safe.
Contact Us for Basement Water Damage Restoration in Conyers, GA
For your basement water damage emergency, ServiceMaster by LoveJoy is on-call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. We service residential and commercial properties in Atlanta, Roswell, Sandy Springs, Marietta, Decatur, Stockbridge, Conyers, McDonough, Stone Mountain, Covington, Social Circle, Dekalb County, Fulton County, Georgia and surrounding areas.
Contact us at (678) 293-0297 for customers near Conyers, GA, and (770) 983-6665 for customers near Roswell, GA.
We offer a FREE inspection and estimate.
You may connect with us online to schedule an appointment.
Check our offices in these areas:
Conyers, GA: 700 Blacklawn Road Southwest Conyers, GA 30012
Covington, GA: 4905 Highway 20, Covington, GA 30016
#basement water damage#water damage restoration#water damage removal#water extraction#Conyers GA#Covington GA#ServiceMaster by LoveJoy
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The fierce Ruby Bridges
Early Life
Ruby Nell Bridges was born on September 8, 1954, in Tylertown, Mississippi. She grew up on the farm her parents and grandparents sharecropped in Mississippi.
When she was four years old, her parents, Abon and Lucille Bridges, moved to New Orleans, hoping for a better life in a bigger city.
Her father got a job as a gas station attendant and her mother took night jobs to help support their growing family. Soon, young Bridges had two younger brothers and a younger sister.
Education and Facts
The fact that Bridges was born the same year that the Supreme Court handed down its Brown v. Board of Education decision desegregating schools is a notable coincidence in her early journey into civil rights activism.
When Bridges was in kindergarten, she was one of many African American students in New Orleans who were chosen to take a test determining whether or not she could attend a white school. It is said the test was written to be especially difficult so that students would have a hard time passing. The idea was that if all the African American children failed the test, New Orleans schools might be able to stay segregated for a while longer.
Bridges lived a mere five blocks from an all-white school, but she attended kindergarten several miles away, at an all-Black segregated school. Bridges’ father was averse to his daughter taking the test, believing that if she passed and was allowed to go to the white school, there would be trouble. However, her mother, Lucille, pressed the issue, believing that Bridges would get a better education at a white school. She was eventually able to convince Bridges' father to let her take the test
In 1960, Bridges' parents were informed by officials from the NAACP that she was one of only six African American students to pass the test. Bridges would be the only African American student to attend the William Frantz School, near her home, and the first Black child to attend an all-white elementary school in the South.
Ruby Bridges and marshals leaving William Frantz Elementary School, New Orleans, 1960. She was escorted both to and from the school while segregationist protests continued.
Photo: Uncredited DOJ photographer (Via [1]) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
School Desegregation
When the first day of school rolled around in September, Bridges was still at her old school. All through the summer and early fall, the Louisiana State Legislature had found ways to fight the federal court order and slow the integration process. After exhausting all stalling tactics, the Legislature had to relent, and the designated schools were to be integrated that November.
Fearing there might be some civil disturbances, the federal district court judge requested the U.S. government send federal marshals to New Orleans to protect the children. On the morning of November 14, 1960, federal marshals drove Bridges and her mother five blocks to her new school. While in the car, one of the men explained that when they arrived at the school, two marshals would walk in front of Bridges and two would be behind her.
When Bridges and the federal marshals arrived at the school, large crowds of people were gathered in front yelling and throwing objects. There were barricades set up, and policemen were everywhere.
Bridges, in her innocence, first believed it was like a Mardi Gras celebration. When she entered the school under the protection of the federal marshals, she was immediately escorted to the principal's office and spent the entire day there. The chaos outside, and the fact that nearly all the white parents at the school had kept their children home, meant classes weren't going to be held at all that day.
Ostracized at Elementary School
On her second day, the circumstances were much the same as the first, and for a while, it looked like Bridges wouldn't be able to attend class. Only one teacher, Barbara Henry, agreed to teach Bridges. She was from Boston and a new teacher to the school. "Mrs. Henry," as Bridges would call her even as an adult, greeted her with open arms.
Bridges was the only student in Henry's class because parents pulled or threatened to pull their children from Bridges' class and send them to other schools. For a full year, Henry and Bridges sat side by side at two desks, working on Bridges' lessons. Henry was loving and supportive of Bridges, helping her not only with her studies but also with the difficult experience of being ostracized.
Bridges' first few weeks at Frantz School were not easy ones. Several times she was confronted with blatant racism in full view of her federal escorts. On her second day of school, a woman threatened to poison her. After this, the federal marshals allowed her to only eat food from home. On another day, she was "greeted" by a woman displaying a Black doll in a wooden coffin.
Bridges' mother kept encouraging her to be strong and pray while entering the school, which Bridges discovered reduced the vehemence of the insults yelled at her and gave her courage. She spent her entire day, every day, in Mrs. Henry's classroom, not allowed to go to the cafeteria or out to recess to be with other students in the school. When she had to go to the restroom, the federal marshals walked her down the hall.
Several years later, federal marshal Charles Burks, one of her escorts, commented with some pride that Bridges showed a lot of courage. She never cried or whimpered, Burks said, "She just marched along like a little soldier."
Effect on the Bridges Family
The abuse wasn't limited to only Bridges; her family suffered as well. Her father lost his job at the filling station, and her grandparents were sent off the land they had sharecropped for over 25 years. The grocery store where the family shopped banned them from entering. However, many others in the community, both Black and white, began to show support in a variety of ways. Gradually, many families began to send their children back to the school and the protests and civil disturbances seemed to subside as the year went on.
A neighbor provided Bridges' father with a job, while others volunteered to babysit the four children, watch the house as protectors, and walk behind the federal marshals on the trips to school.
Signs of Stress
After winter break, Bridges began to show signs of stress. She experienced nightmares and would wake her mother in the middle of the night seeking comfort.For a time, she stopped eating lunch in her classroom, which she usually ate alone. Wanting to be with the other students, she would not eat the sandwiches her mother packed for her, but instead hid them in a storage cabinet in the classroom.
Soon, a janitor discovered the mice and cockroaches who had found the sandwiches. The incident led Mrs. Henry to lunch with Bridges in the classroom.Bridges started seeing child psychologist Dr. Robert Coles, who volunteered to provide counseling during her first year at Frantz School. He was very concerned about how such a young girl would handle the pressure. He saw Bridges once a week either at school or at her home.
During these sessions, he would just let her talk about what she was experiencing. Sometimes his wife came too and, like Dr. Coles, she was very caring toward Bridges. Coles later wrote a series of articles for Atlantic Monthly and eventually a series of books on how children handle change, including a children's book on Bridges' experience.
Overcoming Obstacles
Near the end of the first year, things began to settle down. A few white children in Bridges' grade returned to the school. Occasionally, Bridges got a chance to visit with them. By her own recollection many years later, Bridges was not that aware of the extent of the racism that erupted over her attending the school. But when another child rejected Bridges' friendship because of her race, she began to slowly understand.
By Bridges' second year at Frantz School, it seemed everything had changed. Mrs. Henry's contract wasn't renewed, and so she and her husband returned to Boston. There were also no more federal marshals; Bridges walked to school every day by herself. There were other students in her second-grade class, and the school began to see full enrollment again. No one talked about the past year. It seemed everyone wanted to put the experience behind them.
Bridges finished grade school and graduated from the integrated Francis T. Nicholls High School in New Orleans. She then studied travel and tourism at the Kansas City business school and worked for American Express as a world travel agent.
Husband and Children
In 1984, Bridges married Malcolm Hall in New Orleans. She later became a full-time parent to their four sons.
Norman Rockwell Painting
In 1963, painter Norman Rockwell recreated Bridges' monumental first day at school in the painting, “The Problem We All Live With.” The image of this small Black girl being escorted to school by four large white men graced the cover of Look magazine on January 14, 1964.
The Norman Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, now owns the painting as part of its permanent collection. In 2011, the museum loaned the work to be displayed in the West Wing of the White House for four months upon the request of President Barack Obama.
Book and Movie
'The Story of Ruby Bridges'
In 1995, Robert Coles, Bridges' child psychologist and a Pulitzer-Prize winning author, published The Story of Ruby Bridges, a children's picture book depicting her courageous story.
Soon after, Barbara Henry, her teacher that first year at Frantz School, contacted Bridges and they were reunited on The Oprah Winfrey Show.
'Ruby Bridges'
“Ruby Bridges” is a Disney TV movie, written by Toni Ann Johnson, about Bridges' experience as the first Black child to integrate an all-white Southern elementary school.
The two-hour film, shot entirely in Wilmington, North Carolina, first aired on January 18, 1998, and was introduced by President Bill Clinton and Disney CEO Michael Eisner in the Cabinet Room of the White House.
Ruby Bridges Foundation
In 1999, Bridges formed the Ruby Bridges Foundation, headquartered in New Orleans. Bridges was inspired following the murder of her youngest brother, Malcolm Bridges, in a drug-related killing in 1993 — which brought her back to her former elementary school.
For a time, Bridges looked after Malcolm's four children, who attended William Frantz School. She soon began to volunteer there three days a week and soon became a parent-community liaison.
With Bridges' experience as a liaison at the school and her reconnection with influential people in her past, she began to see a need for bringing parents back into the schools to take a more active role in their children's education.
Bridges launched her foundation to promote the values of tolerance, respect and appreciation of differences. Through education and inspiration, the foundation seeks to end racism and prejudice. As its motto goes, "Racism is a grown-up disease, and we must stop using our children to spread it."
In 2007, the Children's Museum of Indianapolis unveiled a new exhibition documenting Bridges' life, along with the lives of Anne Frank and Ryan White. (source)
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Fifth Doctor & Nyssa
These stories cover the Fifth Doctor’s travels with his companion Nyssa from the Classic Series. For this reason, I’d recommend having a familiarity with Nyssa and her backstory going into these audios, though a quick browse through her character profile on TARDIS wiki or any other similar source will suffice.
These stories can be more accessible to newcomers to Big Finish as most of the stories don’t form an overarching story, and so most of them can be listened to separately and out of order. However, there are some groups of stories which take place within trilogies, which all tell one overarching story.
Because of this, I will be listing the Standlone Travels, which are stories that can be listened to in any order or skipped completely, and the trilogy arcs separately, making it easier for you to pick and choose which stories to listen to.
So, let’s get started.
Standalone Travels
4. The Land of the Dead
10. Winter for the Adept
15. The Mutant Phase
26. Primeval
34. Spare Parts
44. Creatures of Beauty
66. The Game
91. Circular Time
93. Renaissance of the Daleks
143. The Demons of Red Lodge and Other Stories
168. 1001 Nights
178. 1963: Fanfare for the Common Men
224. Alien Heart / Dalek Soul
The Thomas Brewster Trilogy
107. The Haunting of Thomas Brewster
110. The Boy That Time Forgot
113. Time Reef / A Perfect World
The Stockbridge Trilogy
127. Castle of Fear
128. The Eternal Summer
129. Plague of the Daleks
The Hannah Bartholomew Trilogy
185. Moonflesh
186. Tomb Ship
187. Masquerade
#doctor who#classic doctor who#classic who#fifth doctor#peter davision#nyssa#nyssa of traken#doctor who nyssa#sarah sutton#big finish#doctor who big finish#doctor who eu#doctor who audio guide#big finish guide
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Safe and Secure Boston to Lenox MA Limousine and Car Service with Booster and Infant Car seat
Dial-number: (617) 858-7300 or Booking Online: www.
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22/04/2023-Stockbridge Common Marsh and home
Pictures taken today in this set: 1. Beautiful cuckooflower a lovely riverine plant. 2, 3, 6 and 7. Beautiful views at this spot I love coming to. 4. The Black-crowned Night Heron there which we went to see and I was so amazed to get exquisite close views of this striking, sharply coloured and very rare bird. It was an honour to see, my first ever so my second new bird species in as many weeks and fifth this year thus far a strong list of them. 5 and 8. Two of my first Sedge Warblers of the year, a key part of spring and a bird I love it was an honour to hear theirs and also first for the year for me Reed Warbler’s scratchy songs and see them well here today, uplifting springtime moments. 9. A beautiful Kestrel we saw well that possibly had a nest in the tree we saw it flying and possibly tussling with another too. 10. Flowers in the garden including some new honesty, a flower we saw on the roadside in the wild today nicely too.
It was also fantastic to see my first Swift and Comma butterfly of the year at common marsh, such exciting moments especially the Swift, one I was hoping to see soon but it felt early it was just the one up there with House Martins flying and it is my earliest ever sighting of a Swift in a year which is memorable. Other highlights there were seeing and hearing Cetti’s Warbler I’ve had a good week for them and seeing Kingfisher, Grey Wagtail, Grey Heron, Buzzard, Reed Bunting, Stonechat, Gadwall, Tufted Duck, Mute Swan, Stock Doves, Long-tailed Tit, a Long Hoverfly on some cuckooflower, ground ivy and marsh marigold.
#marsh marigold#stockbridge common marsh#photography#sedge warbler#black-crowned night heron#night heron#birdwatching#reed warbler#cetti's warbler#kestrel#flowers#europe#hampshire#england#uk#world#happy#colourful#spring#cuckooflowers#memories#swift#house martins
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Moving in the Right Circles: a few thoughts.
Hello, hi, good afternoon (or a very early good morning if you’re reading from home, I hope O Week is treating you well and you’re remembering to rehydrate). Last night, I went to the first in a series of seminars hosted by the Edinburgh Political Union and Common Weal at a cute little student bar down in the Old Town. Common Weal is a policy “think and do tank” based in Glasgow. Their Policy Head, Craig Dalzell, took us through the Resources and Trade chapter of their fully-costed Green New Deal for Scotland. I recently finished reading Novacene and have finally come to grips with the Gaia Theory... I think. In light of all this new info that I’m processing, and news that Bezos is injecting $10bn into the climate effort, I wanted to share a few thoughts...
A Circular Economy
Common Weal’s Green New Deal is so low-bullshit it’s made me run circles around my own brain trying to come up with a joke about lowering methane emissions (to no avail). It reads that “...waste is really just a way of describing failures in resource use” in reference to the current linear economic model.
Met this dude in Sligachan!
The linear model can be described as such: procure resource ---> use it between 0 and 2 times ---> dispose of resource ---> repeat for infinite economic growth.The goal of a circular economy is to keep goods in circulation at the highest value possible. To do so, we need to considering redesigning, reusing, repairing and remanufacturing goods before we recycle them. If we could do that, we wouldn’t have to procure as many resources in the first place, nor waste as much in the end. Craig put recycling to the test last night too, discussing whether down-cycling (i.e. putting your Amazon cardboard box in the correct bin) should even be considered a success (it shouldn’t IMO). Side-cycling and up-cycling are still crucial to a circular economy, though.
***Cue thirst trap that also shows off thrifted jeans***
Ooh, and I found out that Edinburgh has tool libraries, which gives me the means to cause devastation in a public space as I make and fix things, as per my 2020 goal to learn more practical skills, but with less waste!
Not the tool library, but close enough...making fingerboards in Granda’s shed over Christmas.
Debating in Circles
When we talk about the climate action effort, we often split society into those who see the need for climate action and those who choose to oppose it. Last night’s discussion highlighted another important group: climate delayers.
What is a climate delayer?
Those who acknowledge climate emergency but declare that they/we as a society are doing enough
Those who acknowledge climate change but oppose declaration of an emergency
Those who acknowledge climate change and/or emergency on a public level but benefit heavily from/contribute heavily to the industries that continue to emit fossil fuels
Those who acknowledge the climate emergency but propose only lofty goals with no substantive plan to achieve them
Any other person whose behaviours slow down the climate action effort without necessarily denying its validity.
It’s interesting to consider that, perhaps even more so than deniers, the behaviours of climate delayers work to preserve the status quo by focussing on how hard it might be to structure a society in a way that places less stress on the earth’s systems. They may also choose to support weaker policy reactions to emerging climate science.
I know what you’re thinking. Of course, anybody (sane) would tell you that they’d rather do nothing than do something that might take effort. Even if a proposed policy has noble goals such as emissions reduction, people won’t give up their time to act unless it has a realistic plan behind it. The cool thing about Common Weal’s GND is that it’s actually costed, it’s clear (even to somebody without a science or economics background like me) and it actually feels like something that might work... No wonder major parties are starting to jump at it.
There will always be a threat from climate delayers though. Especially when they are people with excessive power or influence. I guess this is the source of worry that some are harbouring when it comes to the enormous amount of money Jeff Bezos (Amazon CEO, tax escape artist, richest person in the world) has committed to set up his Earth Fund this week.
Attempting to Square the Circle
A Guardian article I digested with my morning coffee collates the opinions of a few leading scientists on how he could best spend this money. Some of these included setting up opposition to oil and gas lobby in the US, forest protection, indigenous land rights and practice programs, supporting emerging tech, carbon pricing research and implementation and solutions with no financial market e.g. removing carbon dioxide from the air, restoring and re-wilding habitats or research into how we can overcome the sociopolitical obstacles to achieving low-emissions (and hopefully zero-emissions) societies.
Inverleith House, Royal Botanic Gardens Edinburgh.
A quick survey of people in my Twitter bubble, including nell, didn’t give me a lot of hope. We, for good reason, are quick to distrust billionaires who run unfathomably large corporations that underpay and overwork employees, don’t pay taxes and do contribute heavily to waste and carbon emissions. You can’t really fault Bezos’ critics for being pessimistic when it comes to this donation. Billionaires donating billions of dollars cannot be expected to completely set aside their self-interest.
We can’t ignore the fact that $10bn (US) could fucking change the movement. Bezos said on Instagram that the money will be given out as grants, so theoretically he could contribute to all of the efforts mentioned above. We exist in a web of systems that is reaching a tipping point: one that could easily set off a bunch more, even ones yet unconsidered. Without cooperation on a large-scale, we mightn’t be able to prevent the worst from happening. This money could allow this type of collaborative effort.
Unfortunately, I have to live in reality. It’s probable that this money won’t be used to disrupt the balance of power in the US that has always tipped in the favour of fossil fuels industries. It is unlikely to be invested into solutions that won’t reap significant financial return.
Waters of Leith, Stockbridge.
Whilst it is vitally important that this investment doesn’t work to delay climate action by preserving the status quo, it’s a real possibility.
My guess is that it will be invested into new tech that obviously has the potential to make people excited about responding to climate change but that Cornell refers to as “putting a bandaid on a an open fire”. It could delay real action, as funding for new ideas might outweigh support for the solutions that are ready right now. I only hope that stakeholders consider that we are running out of time for research and pilot studies and shit needs to start changing now.
To sum up and get on with the chores I see stacking up around me: a $10bn investment into the climate movement can’t be a wholly good or wholly bad thing. Activists, Amazon Employees for Climate Justice and other organisations have already convinced the richest man in the world to pledge 7% of his net worth to the planet, so maybe we can help to keep him accountable for the way he spends it too!?
That’ll do for now,
GS xx
P.S. buttons are still falling off, but I really am making slow progress with learning to sew! I will post some photos when there’s anything exciting to photograph.
#climate change#economics#blog#amazon#Jeff bezos#climate action#James lovelock#novacene#gaia#common weal#Green New Deal#notes#thoughts
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Disabled Lesbians Demand More Accessibility
BOSTON [October 29, 1989] — An unprecedented and aggressive three-year plan for "accessibility" at "lesbian, gay, feminist and leftie events" has been published in "working draft" form by the Boston-based journal Dykes, Disabilities & Stuff [DDS].
Although the plan deals with such common problems as wheelchair accessibility, sign language interpretation, braille translation and muiti-lingualism, DDS entered uncharted territory in lashing out at gay/lesbian insensitivity to persons with "environmental illnesses" and to "women of all sizes."
"Beginning immediately," plan drafters wrote, "events should be advertised as scent-free and 'sniffers' posted at the entrance to ensure that all who enter are in compliance. Anyone who is wearing scents should be turned away at the door." The plan also calls for air purifiers to "be placed throughout meeting/event spaces."
A second overlooked disability, according to DDS, is that of women who are too large to fit in standard seating.
"Larged sized women," the plan said, "should not have to choose between not attending an event or being bruised by the seating. Couches and armless chairs with wide seats...are acceptable alternatives."
Another disability issue brought to light by the plan is the dilemma of women who tire easily and require rest breaks.
"Women who must take breaks are excluded from full participation and their input is lost," drafters said. "We would propose that all decision making occur in the morning. This would ensure that decisions are not made by a small group of women remaining...after those who need to rest or eat have left."
Finally, the plan demands that food and drink be available at all times, including "sugar-free drinks for women who are diabetic or otherwise sugar-intolerant. Signs can be posted," the drafters said, "indicating that the presence of sugar-free drinks is not an endorsement of the diet industry, but is a form of accessibility."
The draft was prepared by Sara Karon and Catherine Odette, who stated that "once this plan is distributed to the world and publicized, we will no longer tolerate ignorance of what access means."
The plan preceded by two months a blow-up at the Labor Day First Annual East Coast Lesbians' Festival in West Stockbridge, Massachusetts.
At that event, four disabled lesbians and several able-bodied sympathizers blockaded the festival entrance and attempted to send festival-goers home. The protesters complained that the ramping of camp buildings for wheelchair access was inadequate, that hydraulic lift shuttle trucks were not equipped to handle scooters and that the festival site was, in general, too hilly.
— Rex Wockner, OutWeek Magazine No. 19, October 29, 1989, p. 18.
#outweek#issue 19#lgbt history#lesbian#disability#ableism#sara karon#catherine odette#dykes disabilities & stuff#accessibility#news#rex wockner
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Charles Dance: how common
Charles Dance: 'the audience feels cheated if you don't be honest about yourself'
Nigel Farndale12:15AM BST 28 Oct 2007
Army officers, worthy medicos, louche aristos, and now a donnish C.S. Lewis in 'Shadowlands' – when casting directors need 'a toff actor', Charles Dance is top of their list. It's all pretending, the secret plebeian tells Nigel Farndale, and he loves it. Portrait by Joss McKinley
Given that Charles Dance is an actor, it shouldn't come as a surprise that his manner off stage is quite actorly. Yet somehow it does. I suppose it is because he is often cast as the reserved, taciturn, patrician type, while, in person, he is tactile and garrulous. Sitting on a sofa in his dressing-room at the Wyndham's Theatre, London, he makes big theatrical, off-the-shoulder gestures, taps the wood of his dressing table – the superstitious actor – and leans forward to touch my knee occasionally, to emphasise a point. Moreover, he punctuates his anecdotes with 'darlings', 'sweethearts' and 'dears'.
Physically, he looks taller and more athletic than seems decent for a 61-year-old. He doesn't dress his age, either: his 6ft 3in frame looking rangy in faded jeans, T-shirt and heavy black boots. His hair may be thinning and becoming as pale as his skin, but his face is still strong boned, his hooded eyes still flinty. Intellectually, you suspect, there is not as much depth there as he likes to think there is, but he is friendly and engaging. Like many in his profession, he enjoys having a whinge about the actor's lot.
Don't get him on the subject of dressing-rooms, for example. He has just been touring the provinces before opening in the West End this week – 'the foreplay before the penetration,' he calls it, rather alarmingly – and the dressing-room he had in Cambridge was dark and subterranean. This one is windowless and has a fan whirring, but at least it is freshly decorated and all the light bulbs around the mirror are working. 'That's thanks to Madge,' he says. 'I was doing The Play What I Wrote here in 2002, just before Madonna did a show here and she paid for the dressing-rooms to be done up. But the funny thing was?…' he bounds up from the sofa and marches across the room to the shower area; here he describes two diagonal slashes with his arms, '…?they put crime scene tapes over the shower so no one else could use it before Madge.'
The play he did before that was Long Day's Journey into Night at the Lyric on Shaftesbury Avenue. 'In the dressing-room were little sachets of vermin poison. Pretty bloody awful. There was a mattress in there with a piece of fabric that looked like Monica Lewinsky's old dress on it. Half the lightbulbs had gone. I was there for 12½ weeks doing a play that was not a bundle of laughs, so I bought some ready-made curtains and a throw and some lightbulbs and insisted they had the room painted. They brought colour swatches of white, white or white – so I chose white.'
In his latest play, the first major revival of William Nicholson's award-winning Shadowlands, Dance plays C.S. Lewis. Although Nigel Hawthorne, on stage, and Anthony Hopkins, in the Oscar-nominated film version, are hard acts to follow in that role, Dance proves himself worthy. His struggle as the middle-aged Lewis to accept that he has fallen in love for the first time, only to lose his new wife to cancer, is mesmerising. 'It is about love in the presence of pain and suffering,' Dance says. 'C.S. Lewis believes pain is a tool. Pain is God's megaphone to rouse a deaf world.'
Presumably getting in the right reflective mood beforehand, while sitting in a pleasant dressing-room, is crucial to this performance? 'Your mood can be affected by the state of your dressing-room, and by the day you have had, but hopefully that doesn't affect the performance.'
I ask whether he can relate to the religious aspects of the play: C.S. Lewis, the devout Christian, agonises over the faith that has let him down. 'Not at all. I am an agnostic. I'm not bothered about not knowing. Religion is at the core of the play, but we pretend. It's my job. If I'm playing a murderer I don't murder people.'
And the academic aspects, the donnish world of Oxford? 'I am not an intellectual. I am reasonably intelligent, but not intellectual.' I only ask because he often plays men who are in professions that others find inspiring: Army officers, doctors and so on. When he prepares for such roles, does he ever wonder whether, by comparison, being an actor in greasepaint is somehow not quite a proper job for a grown man? He seems affronted by this question and answers in a loud and indignant voice. 'Some might think it's a job for children, but it's not! We do work very hard!'
Slightly taken aback, I say that I didn't mean to sound rude. I reframe the question in terms of the Samuel Johnson quote about every man thinking meanly of himself for not being a soldier. 'I see; well, I like pretending to be all those things. I like pretending to be someone in the military, but whether I could do it I don't know. That's why I am an actor.'
I tell him I went to see his Coriolanus years ago, the ultimate role for an actor with martial aspirations. 'London or Stratford?' The Barbican. 'Good. I was reasonably happy with it by the time we reached the Barbican.' It was a powerful and memorable performance, I say. Perfect casting.
The irony, though, was that Coriolanus is the patrician who is condescending towards the plebeians, and Dance's background is plebeian. He is the son of Nell, a former parlour-maid.
Dance returns to his actors-are-just-pretending theme: 'I just pretend. I was able to observe the aristocracy at close quarters because my mother worked for them. She certainly worked for much posher people than we were. Housekeeping. One observed it and absorbed it. My mother married above her station. She came from the East End. I'm not sure what my father did, because he died from a perforated ulcer when I was four, but I think his family had been confectioners. And I think he had been an engineer. A little further up the social scale than my mother. He used to do the occasional music hall recitation.'
Despite this background, when Dance started out in acting a fellow actor noted that he was 'a toff actor' as opposed to 'a peasant actor'. 'It's because I have a patrician face,' Dance says. He does indeed. But it is also to do with his bearing. As an actor he has a commanding presence and a certain grace. He can convey emotions with the flicker of a muscle, with the slightest movement of the eye. Two of his more polished aristocratic roles are the Earl of Erroll in White Mischief and Lord Raymond Stockbridge in Gosford Park. When he was filming the latter he told the director, Robert Altman, that he was in the wrong place, upstairs with the toffs; he should be downstairs with the servants. Altman said: 'Not with that face, Charles.'
It might be that he learnt his patrician bearing from observing his step-father, Edward, a civil servant. He had been the lodger. He drank lots of tea and did the pools. 'A fairly solitary men who seemed to have no friends or family, but quite decent. He looked after my mother. She would say, "When your father died I had 10 bob left in the world, dear".'
His mother's wasn't a happy life. Nell nursed Edward through cancer and then died from a heart attack six months after he did, in 1984, the year The Jewel in the Crown was making her son's name. They used to row a lot, mother and son. 'Terrible emotional scenes. She was a very emotional woman.'
I ask if she was socially insecure. 'She came from the servant class, which was not the same thing as the working class. The servant class is right in the middle. I'm not sure I believe there is such a thing as a middle class: it is either working class on the way up or aristocracy on the way down. She also, of course, was a lifelong Tory voter, as most people from the servant class were; you can't possibly be governed by your equals. You have to be governed by your betters.'
His brother is 10 years older, a retired naval officer who lives in France. 'He had been a difficult adolescent and my mother thought joining the Navy would make a man of him. So she marched him off to the recruiting office when he was 15, a decision my mother regretted until the day she died. I remember sharing a bedroom with him before he left for the Navy and there were books of poetry around the place and he wasn't a bad draughtsman either. All that had to go. My mother learnt from her mistake and allowed me to indulge in poetry and the arts.'
Charles Dance had been studying graphic design and photography at Leicester Art School when he got the acting bug. Steve McQueen and Peter Finch had inspired him to become a screen actor, while 'Brian Rix dropping his trousers in a farce made me want to prance about on stage'. He abandoned his course in favour of acting lessons from two retired thespians, Leonard and Martin. They were gay, but quiet about it, as society demanded at the time.
What was he like at that age? 'When I was 19, I was long-haired, going on the Aldermaston march, shagging everything in sight. The march was more fun than anything. I'm not especially political.'
Was he narcissistic as a young man? 'Not really, not until way after my teens. Mid to late twenties, possibly. I look around now and see guys who are fantastic looking and then I look in the mirror and think this is a very odd face. It doesn't bear close scrutiny. Bags under the eyes, thinning hair, I don't see a handsome man when I look in the mirror. Never have done. It is not an easy face to photograph, which is tricky in a film career unless you are in the hands of an astute and clever director of photography. I wear clothes quite well and am reasonably fit and have a good body, but I don't think I am particularly handsome. When people first started describing me as being that, at the time of Jewel in the Crown, I was surprised, but then I learnt to embrace it, a little too fondly.'
At the time, he was described as the English Robert Redford. I suggest it must have given him confidence to be told he had matinee-idol looks, even if he couldn't see it himself. 'Confidence is something I have had to acquire. This profession is littered with people, who, by their nature, are more introvert that extrovert. I can have my flamboyant moments, but I am, by nature, an introvert. I acquired confidence by giving myself severe talkings-to from time to time. I found that aspect of Coriolanus – the opening scenes where he is confident, strutting, all "I'm f---ing wonderful, and powerful", harder to act than the more vulnerable moments later in the play when it emerges that he is a mummy's boy.'
He thinks that early on in his career he may sometimes have been cast because of his looks – but not any more. 'Now I am getting more interesting roles. Mr Tulkinghorn in the BBC adaptation of Bleak House, for example. Or Ralph Nickleby [in The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby]. He is a complete s---. Evil, but interesting. Whereas there are only so many ways you can play a romantic leading man. You know you are there for a reason.'
He described himself earlier as 'shagging everything in sight'; just how successful was he with women? 'Not that successful. You know how it is when you are a young man: lots of groping most of the time, nothing serious.'
For 23 years he was married to Joanna, a sculptor. They have grown-up children: Oliver, who works in film, and Rebecca, who is in publishing. Then, in 2004, they divorced. Dance's name has been linked to one or two actresses and models since, but he nevertheless worries that he might end up alone. He prefers not to think about it. Indeed, he feels uncomfortable with this conversation, not least because his ex-wife was door-stepped by the press at the time of their divorce. 'I'd rather you avoided the subject,' he says, 'but I can't blame "the business" for the breakdown of my marriage. I don't want to talk about it. If I had a choice in the matter I would say "please don't go into all that", but if you want to insert something about it I can't stop you.'
I note that actors tend to be liberal by inclination, that this is partly to do with the bohemian life they lead: the touring, the intimacy with fellow cast members, the abandonment of self-consciousness. In Dance's case, that includes appearing nude. He has no qualms about it, as he demonstrated recently in the film Starter for Ten. He turned up on set for that scene already naked. When the wardrobe assistant offered to cover him up, he said: 'No need, darling'.
'Well, if you've done it once, after that it doesn't bother you,' he says now. 'To continue the painting analogy, painters have brushes and paints, we have this.' He sweeps his hands the length of his body. 'The audience feels cheated if you don't open up and be honest about yourself. I feel I have cheated myself if I don't go that far. Having stuff in reserve is to cheat.'
Similarly, he is not fussy about what he appears in, so long as the money is good. He has done a number of forgettable Miss Marple-type dramas on television and memorably wore fishnets and a red rubber micro-skirt for the Ali G movie. 'I'll do anything for money,' he says. 'People talk about choices. What choices? The choice is to work or not to work.'
I suppose he has an additional choice in that he can also write, produce and direct. Notably, he wrote, produced and directed Ladies in Lavender, a film about two sisters, played by Dames Maggie Smith and Judi Dench, living on the Cornish coast, who take in a Polish stray just before the Second World War. 'There was a day when I was stupid enough to try to direct Judi. She came up with a line that was a bit sentimental for her and I knelt down and touched her knee and said: "Judi, it is a bit Celia Johnson-ish." And she said: "How dare you? And get your hand off my knee.".'
The film grossed more than $30million. 'But none of it found its way into my pocket. It all went to the f---ing distributors and sales agents. I see the returns. I get "0000" next to my name while they are coining it in. It was a bugger to get the financing together for that film. I had to ask Judi and Maggie to defer fees and they sweetly said "of course, darling", even though they knew deferment usually means deferred indefinitely.'
He slips on a black polo-neck and scoops up a packet of cigarettes from among the greasepaint pots. He is going to pop outside for a quick fag. As we walk through the theatre we talk about Shadowlands and its funereal themes. He says he would have loved to have gone to George Melly's funeral. 'He had a cardboard coffin which people wrote funny things on, like, 'You owe me 20 quid, George".'
As we stand outside the stage door, in the drizzle, I ask if he has thought about what form he would like his own funeral to take. 'God no,' he says, lighting a cigarette. 'Too busy trying to live, for f---'s sake.'
'Shadowlands' is at the Wyndham's Theatre, London W1, until 15 December; www.shadowlandstheplay.com, 0870 950 0925
source: telegraph
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# 2,750
Arlo Guthrie “Alice’s Restaurant Pt. 1 & 2″ Aussie 7″ (1967, 1972)
Ω+ sells all of its’ inventory of Arlo Guthrie’s five-star single starting now. Guthrie released his anti-draft “massacree” as the entire A-side to his debut album of the same name. Since then, it’s become a token Thankgiving piece (William S. Burroughs’ “Thanksgiving Prayer” being the another) with no relation to a dinner setting which is only mentioned in the chorus, but when Guthrie was arrested for littering on that day. As an Australian 7″, you won’t have enough space to hear the whole 18+ minute account of what happened to him at Stockbridge, Massachussetts, so “Alice’s Restaurant” is edited down to two sides; the common practice of songs too long to truncate to only one.
#omega#WUSB#music#mixtapes#reviews#playlists#folk#country#world#politics#Mumbo SSK#type#text#fonts#USA#America
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My name is Sarah Taylor and I chose each of these images for different reasons. The first image, called “Migrant Mother” was a photo that my father kept in our basement. I would always stare at it when I was little and try to understand what was going on, and to this day it resonates with me. The second photo is from Jeffery Stockbridge’s book, “Kensington Blues”. This is one of my favorite photos because I am a Philadelphia native and I have seen many people struggle with addiction and his whole book does a beautiful job portraying addiction in Kensington. My last photo is by Cindy Sherman, and I love her take on American Feminism and displaying the common roles of females and how she captures the feminine persona.
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oh my GOD i hope readmore mobile doesn’t break again because i wrote more ??? moby dick ??? fanfiction??? aka pequod office comedy and i c a n n o t consign it yet to the open waters of AO3
It is an ironic circumstance, that men often receive the pleasures of life when they are least positioned to enjoy them; thus the Marquis de Lafayette, in the flourishing of his fortune and with an overladen table, received an abounding Nantucket cheese for lighting up the streets of Paris with whale oil, and was only inconvenienced by it.
This was mighty bad timing; had but a crumb of that monstrous cheddar been lowered down to him in his prison-cell, that poor Frenchman would have wept! - and just the same, the fine cheese laid before Ahab at table could have been vermescent hard-tack; it penetrated him mechanically, but that inward Bastille of the heart received no provision.
And so Ahab left his fare half-tasted, and his officers under the still spell of that silent glance no more thought of eating the remnants than of seizing the sextant from him.
The harpooners had a happier meal; they were all the brighter, for being at last in clean shirts upon a clean ship. To see the transformation wrought upon that oily deck, you should have thought our thirty hands willing and ready to take scrub-brooms to the Slough of Despond, and make light work of sixteen hundred years of filth. But something remained in their exhausted countenances of try-works ash; they looked fled from some new-fallen Troy, although, good Heavens! with an outlandish variety of household gods stowed in their trowsers-pockets. Besides, that narrow deliverance or delivery of Tashtego’s, from the whale’s case, had weighted a little on them; and Daggoo was doing what he could to make light upon it.
“First I thought,” said Daggoo, “that’s an end to their infernal pipe-smoke belowdecks! How easy I’ll breathe; how sound I’ll sleep. But then I remembered, that they’d have to make harpooneers in your places - one of the boat crews, well! - and as soon as you’d hand them a harpoon, with their arm a-tremble, they’d dart it backwards and sideways, and I’d be stuck full of irons like a hedgehog.”
From the calm and straightforward way he voiced these grim imaginings, he seemed not to be skylarking at all; Tashtego said only - “It’s not that we smoke; it’s that the carpenter sneezes.”
“And why d'ye think he sneezes?” said Daggoo.
Queequeg, having finished a trencher of salt-junk, expounded upon the excellence of tobacco for the constitution; as for being rid of Queequeg, they should have great trouble unless their captain became more inclined to social niceties, for the closest he had come to death was at the hands of a six-quart tub of molasses. This had been on his first voyage; he had been dispatched to row it over by way of sweetening a gam; a squall had blown up, the tub rocked on its bench, and pitching over had dashed poor Queequeg into the Pacific in its headlong rush. The other oarsman had made a grab for Queequeg, and disdained the tub, which wended on its lonely way.
“If I see a six-quart tub round Cape-Horn, I’ll sing out for molasses,” said Tashtego. “Hmm-mm-mm, so much for all this gamming and dancing. There was one of the crew missing when we were embarking from Honolulu - well - we thought, he’s deserted; diseased; died of dysentery; but the third mate said he’d declared a friend of his was aboard a Yankee whaler near us. He asked the captain if he’d seen the fellow - the captain turned pale - barged into the cabin. All right! there’s a muffled sound; the mate sprang open a sea-chest - there he is dead-drunk, that’s a way to recruit! More fool that captain, he was a slack fellow at the oar.”
“Oh, you don’t dance for you’re too busy yarning, Tashtego,” said Daggoo, “here! I don’t want any of this cheese.”
As for Tashtego, he had either made such short work of the salt-junk, or, having been made a harpooneer, was so relieved at being able to display any fastidiousness at all about his dinner, that he spurned that butt of cheese entirely; which left it to Queequeg, who contemplated it and then rolled the entire remnant in a pocket handkerchief and tucked it into his jacket.
“You’ll burst, Queequeg,” Tashtego said, “just when we’ve scrubbed the decks clean again.” and he prodded Queequeg with his fork by way of emphasis.
“O let him have it; when you are our Paul-Cuffe it will be a shame to be so exact about our provisions,” said Daggoo, “why, Tash! you’ll be summoned to meet the President, and he’ll say, what a dashing sort of whale-captain, but why d'ye starve your men of cheese?"
"All right, oil your boat with it for all I care,” Tashtego said, blowing a spiral of smoke up to the heavens, though it stopped at the cabin-rafters, “there’s $200 advance on my pay sold already to an agent, for my wife in Gay-Head; there’s my ambition done."
As for Daggoo, he slanted Queequeg a long look, but kept his own counsel.
There, you may, say, what unprepossessing details of men who furnish forth such splendid feats for your narrative, Ishmael; what d'ye bother us with these for? Well, here are the Pagan harpooneers at rest, and therefore in miniature. I have seen the curious sort of theatre they have on the Java Islands, and the players for it. What possesses their makers, to paint their faces so intricately, and to adorn their clothing in queer chasings of gold and azure and vermilion, I know not; for, the stage being rigged in cotton cloth, the oil-lamps being kindled, what extraordinary, gigantic forms live and move before you! what supernatural shapes appear, from a little flat-leather puppet made by a mortal hand! but as for the detailing, you can’t see a scrap of it.
As for that Paul Cuffe, who was entertained by no other than James Madison, I myself have not met him; but his son entertained me very hospitably at his estate near Stockbridge, having a Nantucket-friend in common with me, and being desirous of some briny reminiscences of the Atlantic from which he was now barred.
How curiously are traced out the paths of a man’s fate! for that son was a Quaker by birth and conviction, a sober merchantmen and whaler; but when but a boy, the hour of national fate came upon him, his love of country pressed him to service, and in 1812 he shipped upon a vessel, with a letter of marque.
God only knows, if one of the Englishmen who jailed him so cruelly as a Yankee, had a father who had been outraged that the elder Cuffe be jailed in Massachusetts as a Black Indian.
He afterwards set out again in his former professions; lived very peacably among Catholics and South-Seas heathens; and by reason of a crippling of his foot, had lately turned yeoman-farmer to the family estate.
Let us leave that much-travelled mariner under his own vine and fig-tree, and turn ourselves to Queequeg; who had ventured up on deck, and hailed me where I sat leaning against the ship’s furniture. He cut a good figure, whether or no bloody, blubberous and dishevelled; but let us say that his ablutions had served to gild that lily, and that we greet our fellow-man more joyfully when that joy is unmixed with fright. The same, I am sure, applied to my own proper person.
As for what I had been employed in doing for some hours, the answer is - nothing, but lose a game of dominoes to a Portugese sailor. Three cheers, then, to the grand old customs of whaling! for what confusion, what seas of ink have been spilled, what astrological ransackings between calendars Babylonian, Hindu, Hebrew, Parsi, Julian and Gregorian, upon fixing a rest-day. But the Sabbath, to be enjoyed upon a whale ship, is simply and according to the laws of hygiene and common-sense, fastened upon the day after trying out. For, aside from the scrubbing here mentioned, and setting men to the mast-heads and the wheel, which is a work of necessity, no duties are assigned. And for men who have laboured night and day so ceaselessly and amid such smoke and heat, what could be sweeter than rest! what more reasonable!
These laws of whaling-Sabbath, however, are not so strict, as not to be revoked, the instant a whale should be spotted.
So there we sat, exchanging pleasantries, when Queequeg took hold of my hand, turned it over, and deftly palmed something in it in a pocket-handkerchief.
At that instant, he declared to me, that it was a relief to him that the spermaceti was decanted entirely into barrels; since if I took a fancy to cast myself into it, he should only have to haul me out by the ankles.
This thought astounded and distracted me; so that my countenance certainly did not display any culpability in the matter of the cheddar-cheese. In fact, upon quietly unwrapping it, I was filled with a sort of unnameable awe. It struck me very forcibly that it had been carved already; and carved at the captain’s table, and thus by the captain’s fork; so that graven upon it, and perhaps magnified homeopathically a hundred- or a thousand-fold, were the gloomy impressions of Ahab’s teeth!
Nevertheless, in all my reveries, upon the tabooed nature of this cheddar-cheese, I was rapidly taking a bite from it; and would have continued, had I not heard the distinctive tread of the first mate. I stuffed the cheese into my jacket as fast as the Spartan-boy in the fable; it seemed to burn there.
Now, Starbuck being a thoughtful first mate, he had noted, that in the entire practical business of whaling, Queequeg had been my preceptor; and that I had submitted to his experienced judgement countless and perhaps supernumerary queries on this subject. This struck Starbuck as laudable, inasfar as the responsibility of the harpooneers to the oarsmen went; and excellent, as to the safety of the boat. For certainly as a boy-whaler he had dogged the steps of his own elders, and, the hands aboard a whaler growing greener, with every year he was employed in this business, that instruction grew ever more necessary.
But as to Queequeg, in the second dog-watch, having collapsed almost to the point of insensibility in retrieving his colleague out of a sperm whale head - as to Queequeg, who would be about again at one o'clock in the morning to superintend the watch - as to Queequeg having to be a schoolmaster at this hour, this was an excess.
"There, that’s duty done and more than done,” said Starbuck, “rest ye, man."
Queequeg being very cheerfully engaged in what he was doing, did what he could to convey, that these southern stars below the Equator had a sweet smack of home for him - being not so distant from the arrangement of constellations, that were at once making their storied motions over his parents and married sister - and that he should rather then rest on deck.
All this had once furnished material for a domestic dispute between myself and Queequeg on the subject of the Milky Way; for, try as I might, I could not convince him that this being a lactatious splattering of a Greek goddess was not some freak or hobby-horse of my own, and the general belief of the Christian world. We had to call in the old Manxman for arbitration.
Besides the meaning, there are the specifics of that starry almanac, which marked out for Queequeg so precisely the flourishings of different crops - I should have made a very poor gentleman-farmer, as I was too saddened that the cultivation even of yam and taro was so exacting a science, rather than being furnished forth without the attendant curse of Adam, to pay a very profound attention.
As for these ideas being conveyed, which between boat-header and steerer were more usually along practical lines, the married-sister did materialise a moment in the mind of Starbuck; but in a very plain sort of guise! and without the peace-treaty, that had attended her betrothal.
"Here’s one man’s stars my own reversed - well, Starbuck, but familiar all; never has my heart misgiven me before, to see the Bears sink out of view; I traverse one Creation. And how low swung and sank that whale-head - nearly to the very deeps, if not arrested! Is’t too clear a sign, to see a man brought out from it? And yet those sweet assurances I might have had from this seem most invisibly bright, and dipped beyond mine own horizon.”
And seeing Queequeg still stood patiently at his station, said “As seems well to you, Queequeg; but rest.”
Starbuck went briskly then about the decks, with an inspecting eye, as of a man heedless of his own advice, and bent upon wresting out of the good condition of the tackles, the boats, the rigging, and all the sundries, some plank of certainty. Queequeg however, as a man will when recalled to his own exhaustion, lent his head upon my shoulder, and closed his eyes. The reader may be familiar with this mingling of sensations; how there steals over that one furnishing himself for a pillow a most loving, amiable, and sweet feeling, and at that self-same moment, over that shoulder and then that arm a gradual numbness, so that Queequeg dozed upon a marmoreate flank of mine.
I remained ten more minutes awake, in the quiet consumption of the cheese, which was as a foretaste of paradise after months of forking down bits of duff. As to the implications to the law of property, let it be said it was fairly the harpooneers’ to dispose of, and if Aristotle is right that two friends are but one soul, that inhabit different bodies, then Queequeg in one this occasion pasturing me on cheddar, was only pasturing himself.
I was half-awake, and happily replete, when Starbuck passed me by again; and gave myself and Queequeg a brief and desolate glance. He had not meant, I think, to embark upon an idle conversation, but if you picture Achilles, after his chariot-horses had spoken that once to him, standing with curry-comb in hand, and without reason or expectation, still hoping for another word - so Starbuck, standing in silence upon the forecastle deck.
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