#tes Yorick

[fatherentropy]

power outage almost took out the second one. thank fuck FireAlpaca has autosaves now.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

holy war

avatar (2022) / avatar (2009) / the messiah part 3 (job 19: 26, i corinthians 15: 21, i corinthians 15: 51, i corinthians 15: 52, I corinthians 15: 54-56, romans 8: 31)

[aq2003]

various dt hamletisms that i really enjoy (non comprehensive list)

zooming across the screen to hug horatio

the perfect amount of uppity bitchiness he has when complaining abt danish ppl's drinking habits

messing up his hair during the o all you host of heaven soliloquy

stomping his foot when going "WELL SAID, OLD MOLE" to his dad's ghost

the way he Does Not Blink for the whole rest of to be or not to be after "calamity of so long life"

loudly shushing polonius whenever he interrupts the first player's speech

hitting the floor with his hand when applauding for said speech instead of clapping normally

or ere this i shouldve fattED ALLLL THE REGION K I TE S !! with this SLAAAVVEEE'S OFFAL

mimicking the specific arms-over-head position that the first player uses when acting out pyrrhus' revenge during both the "o, vengeance!!!" part of the coward soliloquy and when he almost kills claudius during the praying scene

"speak the speech i pray you as i pronounced it to you, [snap] trippingly [snap] on the [snap] tongue"

pointing at things with his feet during the mousetrap scene even though he can definitely still use one hand to hold the camera

o good horatio !! i'll take the ghost's word for a THOUSAND pound didSt percieve !!!!! uuPON the TALK OF THE POISONING

jumping down a whole flight of stairs for absolutely no reason. what was he trying to accomplish there. it fascinates me

the way he keeps moving around yorick's skull in his hands like he's trying to inject some life back into it

here. thou INCESTUOUS. MURDEROUS. DAMNED DANE. DRINK OFF THIS POTION. IS THY UNION HERE?? FOLLOW MY MOTHER

[petervc88]

Cappelle O'Clock - London - 18 december 2024

Vanwege mijn concerttrip naar Londen voor het concert van Paul McCartney, draaide ik in deze uitzending van Cappelle O'Clock liedjes over Londen.

Terugluisteren kan hier.

Dit was de playlist:

The Clash - London Calling Wings - London Town Ralph McTell - Streets of London Pet Shop Boys - West End Girls The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset Duffy - Warwick Avenue Electric Light Orchestra - Last Train To London David Bowie - The London Boys The Pogues - A Rainy Night In Soho Benjamin Clementine - London ABC - Tower Of London Coldplay - Cemeteries of London Yorick van Norden - Another Day In London Town Gerry Rafferty - Baker Street

Cappelle O'Clock is iedere woensdagavond van 21:00 t/m 22:00 te horen op Nowhere Radio.

[cr0wra]

alas, poor yorick! i knew him, horatio.

Saludos te dejo

[leagueofgumi]

Nuevas skins: Battlecast #Zac #Nasus y Resistance #Jayce #Yorick #Singed y #Lucian Victorioso 🔹STREAMS: Lunes a viernes a partir de las 8 pm (México) Te esperamos! :D 💌CONVIÉRTETE EN COLABORADOR: www.fb.com/becomesupporter/649060838525461 #leagueoflegends #pbe https://www.instagram.com/p/CG2vVeMlV3T/?igshid=1o7b1uuzaayrm

[brightbeautifulthings]

Week 1 |

Week 2 (p. 64-94)

"TE OCCIDERE POSSUNT SED TE EDERE NON POSSUNT NEFAS EST-- They Can Kill You, But the Legalities of Eating You Are Quite a Bit Dicier" (p. 81, 994).

[tw: drugs/addiction, depression]

Nice of them to start this section off with our first major endnote, an eight-page list of J. O. Incandenza's film oeuvre. Truly riveting. However, this endnote is a prime example of one of the things that sets Wallace above other writers of his kind, in my opinion. It's a bit tedious to read, yes, but it's important that we do. This isn't just throwaway information. There are clues buried in there about the kinds of issues J.O.I. struggled with throughout his life, particularly about the hallucination (?) he has that Hal doesn't speak. Also, I didn't notice on my first read, but this provides the first clear timeline we have of the novel's events. The years of subsidized time are purposely confusing, but here we have them laid out in order. It also gives us a rough date for Joelle's accident when she begins appearing veiled in his films (YTMP). Anybody can put tedious lists in their books or make reading purposely difficult (and I have attitude about writers who do this for no reason), but IJ really is as clever as it claims to be. This is still my favorite graphic of subsidized time, made by Poor Yorick Entertainment. I was thinking about printing it out and using it as a bookmark to help me keep track of the timeline.

Most of this section is given over to introducing characters that will recur throughout the novel rather than advancing any of the current ones. We meet Kate Gompert in a somewhat harrowing depiction of clinical depression, which Wallace struggled with throughout his life. Her addiction cycle is eerily similar to both Hal's and Erdedy's. We also meet Marathe and Steeply for the first time, whose recurring conversations sort of anchor the rest of the varying narratives but are underwhelming in these first few pages. Not sure how I feel about the uncharitable descriptions of Steeply's cross-dressing for his undercover work. I have to assume it's there for humor, since it sounds too ridiculous to be believable. Like a lot of humor from the 90s though, it comes off insensitive.

Week 3 (p. 95-137)

"'What if sometimes there is no choice about what to love? What if the temple comes to Mohammed? What if you just love? without deciding? You just do: you see her and in that instant are lost to sober account-keeping and cannot choose but to love'" (p. 108)?

This section opens on our first good look at the tennis players at ETA, with Hal at the center. Watching them bond while exhausted after the day's lessons and games, and then again with their Little Buddy groups, gives us some insight into the major players: Hal, Pemulis, Stice, and a little bit on John (N.R.) Wayne. I found it interesting that Wallace basically tells us what to think about this scene a few pages later when Hal is describing the "togetherness" quality of the complaining; it's a little heavy-handed on a second read, but maybe something in 1,000 pages needs to be if we're ever going to catch it. There's also a more subtle comment here about the inability of language to capture reality when the boys are searching for better phrases to describe exhaustion. Language failures are all over this book, but it's particularly ineffective at capturing things like pain, exhaustion, addiction, depression, etc.

One of my favorite sections is this next excerpt of Marathe and Steeply's conversation. It has a lot of "This Is Water" overtones where they discuss choosing what to worship, and how Americans are distinctly bad at choosing things that are good for them. Marathe, a Canadian, (along with Schtitt talking to Mario about tennis some pages ago) suggests that it's better to choose something bigger than yourself, like your country or a cause, otherwise what you basically end up worshiping is yourself. He seems to be implying that if you choose another person, it's ultimately for selfish reasons. However, we also know that what Steeply says about not being able to choose what to love might apply to Marathe and his wife; he'd betray his country and his cause for the love he can't help but choose. Then again, it's not totally clear whether he is actually a double or triple agent at this point.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS. TURN BACK BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

Questions & Working Theories

[tw: drug mention]

Q: Who is mailing out the Entertainment? - Swartz suggests that it’s Orin Incandenza, who later under threat of torture releases it to the A.F.R. This seems well-supported by the text, since the initial cartridge is mailed from Arizona, and it’s conveniently sent to a medical attaché with whom Avril probably had an affair (per J.O.I.’s conversation with Hal). - However, as Marie pointed out, we don't know for sure that Orin was in Arizona in April YDAU. He's there in October, but there's a flashback of him in New Orleans in July that doesn't mention the year. If it was YDAU, Orin couldn't have postmarked the Cartridge from Arizona.

Q: When did Orin transfer from New Orleans to Arizona?

Q: Is Marathe a double-agent, or is he just pretending to be a double agent? - Marathe has betrayed the A.F.R. and is aiding Steeply and the Americans in finding the Entertainment in order to get medical care for his wife. - Marathe is only pretending to betray the A.F.R. in order to get more information from Steeply.

Q: Where did the tripod set up in the middle of nowhere on the ETA grounds come from? - The U.S.S. Millicent Kent set up the tripod as an excuse to get Mario alone. - This is possibly the first instance of the Wraith's work. He's responsible for most of the odd occurrences at ETA, and "Mario said his late dad had used a somewhat less snazzy IV-model Husky back in his early days of making art-films..." (p. 122).)

Q: Who is the narrator in some of these sections about ETA? It's a distinct voice from the sections that have conversations, but it also sounds a little like someone talking to us. ("I want to be like that. Able to just sit all quiet and pull life toward me..." (p. 128). Is this a character?

[gedachtenvanpiep]

is there someone you would do anything for? like a boy or a friend or someone?

Als eerste is er mijn liefje, yorick. Hij is de meest lieve, schattige en zorgzame persoon die ik al ooit ontmoet heb. Hij zou echt alles voor me doen en kan me op ieder moment laten lachen. Hij is oprecht de beste vriend die ik ooit gehad heb en ziet de wereld op zo’n manier dat je er zelf ook verliefd op wordt. Hij blijft me verbazen en ik betrap mezelf erop dat ik iedere keer glimlach als ik hem zie. Daarnaast is er mijn beste vriendin, femke. Ze kan uren luisteren naar mijn geween maar durft het me ook te zeggen wanneer het onterecht is. Ze doet me lachen wanneer ik dat het meest nodig heb. Zij is iemand die écht zichzelf is, iets waar ik heel erg naar op kijk. Vervolgens zijn er nog die goede vrienden waar je alles tegen durft zeggen. Daar is emma een perfect voorbeeld van. Iedereen zou een emma in zijn of haar leven moeten hebben. Het eigenschap wat ik aan haar het meest bewonder, is hoe begripvol ze is. Als je met iets zit, weet je dat je bij haar terecht kan zonder beoordeeld te worden. Tot slot is er nog de vriend met de pure persoonlijkheid. Dat is jarne. Zijn humor staat centraal. Hij is zo onschuldig, zonder onderliggende bedoelingen. Hij is een vriend waarbij je niet bang moet zijn om hem te verliezen. Dit zijn de personen waarvoor ik alles zou doen. Ik hoop uit de grond van mijn hart dat ik ze nog lang aan mijn zijde mag hebben.

[andalliloved-ilovedalone]

- ¿de qué vale estar vivo?

- e de qué vale facerse esas preguntas, eh?

- i fear what the future may bring. the sky is covered.

- cubierto, ¿pero de qué?

- c'est couvert de la déception. rien d'autre.

- céntrateme. tes cousas mellores que facer que quedarte a escoitar-e a ísto.

- lo sé, lo sé, lo sé.

- what are we supposed to do? everybody gives reasons but no one gives solutions.

- fai le tue proprie soluzioni.

- ¿y cómo demonios se supone que tengo que hacer eso?

- je ne suis pas un spécialiste. quand tout sera terminé, tout rentrera dans la tranquilité.

- and when is that supposed to happen?

- quando debba passare, ergo, quando tu lo faccia per te mesmo.

- no puedo. no puedo, ya no puedo más...

- cómo non vas poder? non queda outra. ou se fai, ou se fai.

- ne sera pas fait.

- nada de ésto vale la pena.

- vai p'ra onde ibas ir.

- this is an account of nothingness.

- rien, rien, rien. rien d'aultre.

- il monologo di hamlet, ma con l'acciaio invece di con il cranio di yorick.

M.M., u.b.

[grailacademy]

Welcome To Grail Academy - Chapter Twenty-three: Between Youth

Voshkie sneezed into the patterned handkerchief he’d had folded neatly in his breast pocket. He should make a point to call the maid and have her clean all this dust and cobwebs in the archives hall once he returned to his office. When he ran his finger across the countertop of the abandoned reception desk, a visible trail showed the grime still left on the table. This portion of the city hall was built like a mausoleum, with file cabinets lining each wall and reaching all the way to the high ceiling. He had no interest in this place. It was old, empty, it reeked of rotted and moldy paper. People still used the archives hall from time to time, but only as often as one would use a library when one could just as easily look it up on a scroll. Voshkie pulled on the small chain attached to a desk lamp, and watched the yellowing source of light until a hand was placed on his shoulder.

“This way, sir,” Reed motioned, his hand sliding down the governor’s shoulder to straighten out the handkerchief Voshkie had haphazardly stuffed back into the pocket of his suit. Voshkie didn’t mind his associate’s unhealthy attention to detail; it was actually refreshing to him. Someone still cared about political manners. Voshkie followed Reed down through the maze of file cabinets, drawing further and further away from the light of the desk lamp. Their journey ended at an innocuous looking beige drawer, where Reed tugged the handle forward and handed off a series of manilla folders to the governor. “That is everything we’ve compiled on Kuro and the Hedge Witches,” Reed began, “I’m sure you’ve noticed how light the files are.”

Voshkie opened the files and skimmed over the smudged letters. Threat to the city….acts of terrorism….experimental narcotics….gene-splicing….grimm DNA….border control….stunting the growth of Calicem…. All the newspaper clippings and police reports were thin. None of them had the full story.

“This is all of it?” Voshkie closed the papers and waved the files above his head. “Every mention, name drop, crime report, sighting, everything?” He wanted to be sure. Reed nodded, clasping his hands together in front of his stomach. The files made their way to rest under Voshkie’s arm as he turned around and walked out of the archives hall. “Good.”

“KNOCK IT OFF, BLAINE!” A muscular woman with a red bandana tied around her head shouted, inserting herself in the middle of the brawl on the dance floor. Another beer bottle shattered on the floor when she shoved what seemed to be the instigator of the fight away from the rest of the bikers, dragging him out of the bar by the back of his jacket. He yelled out a few obscenities, clearly drunk, before stumbling out onto the sidewalk. “I’ll be back for you, dickheads!” he called out, “You’ll see!” The rest of the bikers simultaneously flipped him off, and the one standing in the center of the group, with perfectly quaffed hair, responded by hollering, “Eat shit, Blaine!” The woman slammed the door to the bar shut, and the bikers turned to laugh amongst themselves. The chaos of the space had died down, at least for now.  

Esmerelda made a motion with her hand, turning her finger in a circle, to signal that the trio should spread out and see what they could find. Nico skipped away to the bar while Bernard headed towards the jukebox. Esmerelda snapped her game face on, and approached the behemoth of a woman who had tossed the drunk biker out of the bar.

“Excuse me,” Esmerelda inquired with a honeyed tone as a slender finger tapped her shoulder, and the woman looked down at the girl the way a wolf looks at an injured deer. “You need something, honey?” The woman quipped.

“I was wondering if you had seen anything suspicious around here in the past few weeks?”

The woman laughed heartily, crouching down to meet Esmerelda’s eye level. “Honey, do you know where you are? You see the kinds of folks we get?” She motioned to the populous of the pub’s customers. “Suspicious activity is how I keep my job.”

Bernard watched the discs in the jukebox with an intense look. His finger continuously pressed the shuffle button on the machine that flipped one record to the next. Over and over, quickly, taking only milliseconds to read the title of the song, album, and artist. Standing in a corner, pressing a button. It was all he was capable of doing until he found an agreeable song. A man in a tan jacket looked up from his game of pool, the brim of his hat just low enough to hide his face. He set the cue down and snuck up behind Bernard, who jumped from the sudden contact. “You’re a long ways from home, ain’t ya?” He smiled warmly, ignoring the boy’s compulsive shuffling on the jukebox. Bernard was frozen, staring into the face of the man next to him.

“What are you-”

“-Wow, look at this! Such a stroke of good luck. Here I am, sent all the way from Vocatus to find you, and I thought I’d have to search the entire city. But I didn’t have to lift a finger! It’s as if the gods dropped you right into my lap.”

Bernard opened his mouth, but closed it again, clenching his jaw to stop himself from speaking. He looked around the bar, wary of the eyes that fell on him. He kept his back to the patrons, and spoke under his breath in a language he was sure nobody but the man next to him would understand, taking every precaution to keep their discussion hidden.

“Todavía tengo un mes.”

“Queremos asegurarnos de que está utilizando su tiempo en ese mes con prudencia. Y si me preguntas....” The man gestured to the sleazy bar they stood in, and then to the jukebox that Bernard had stopped methodically flipping through. “....Esto no parece ser un uso sabio del tiempo.”

“Estamos buscando a mi amigo.”

“¿Estamos?” The man tilted his hat up at the mention of other people, and his eyes searched the establishment until they fell on two people of similar age to Bernard, both standing out in the crowd. He sighed, “....Por qué no estoy sorprendido.” Bernard stood stiff as the man stroked his trimmed goatee.

“No me digas que realmente te preocupas por ellos.”

Bernard tried to bring himself to speak, but he was once again cut off. “No, claro que no-”

“No son la razón por la que estás aquí!” The man raised his voice, garnering attention from a few of the surrounding bikers and patrons. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and spoke in a low voice, “We sent you here to train, not to be in some cheesy after-school special.” The man pulled the brim of his hat down and buttoned up his jacket, preparing to leave. Before he disappeared into the night, he gave Bernard a word of warning. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint El Santo Diablo. He expects big things from you.” Now that he was alone again, Bernard hunched over the jukebox and tried to hide his anxious, frustrated wheezing by furiously flipping through the discs.

Night on the Grail Academy campus was strange. Especially for those who didn’t actually attend the school, like Lolanthe and Aurum, and the Herculean figure standing behind them in a large black cloak made from boarskin. As he stepped forward, the breeze blew under the flaps of his cape and partially revealed a sliver of something sparkly underneath. Lolanthe complained, “Does you really need to wear that?” The man grunted and flared his nostrils, the tusks of the boar pelt that functioned as a hood on his head shifting as he did.

Aurum ran his hand over his cleanly shaved head. “I don’t see a problem with it. Let the man play dress-up if he wants to,” He said, his thumb running along the side of the envelope he held. He looked over the blueprints: the school, the dorms, the arena, and the clocktower. Lolanthe snatched them out of his hands and inspected them herself, disgruntled. “This is why nobody takes us seriously.” They both looked back to the man who towered over them, his arms crossed and his expression hidden under the shadow of his hood. Then they returned their attention to the school whose lawn they stood on, uncomfortably silent with all of the students away on Winter break. “Let’s get this over with….”

Nico spun on the stool at the bar, his back against it with his elbows on the counter, spreading out as much as he could sitting between two other people. To one side, a man with a loose tie hanging off his neck sipped at his drink. To the other side, a young woman in a flowery dress chatted with the bartender. Nico leaned towards the man, sticking his chin out with a smirk.

“Hey there, gorgeous~”

“Hey.”

“Have you ever hooked up with a rock star?”

“....No?”

“Would you like to~?”

Nico waggled his eyebrows, the smirk on his face growing. The man rolled his eyes and shook his head, finishing his drink before standing up and leaving. Nico frowned for a moment in disappointment, but just as quickly as it fell, the sly smirk rose back across his cheeks, and he swiveled around to the other side to lean towards the woman.

“Hey there, gorgeous~” He was about to use the exact same pickup line, but the woman held up her hand to stop him. “Nope.” She huffed and walked away, leaving Nico in the dust.

Rejected. Twice. It knocked Nico down a few pegs, for sure. He sat alone at the bar, wallowing in his sadness until he heard the raucous laughs of the bikers who had been in the fight when he first entered the pub. They were cackling over some dirty joke that their leader had made, drinks spilling out of their glasses as they clapped while the leader combed and smoothed back his hair with a grin. A plan was brewing in Nico’s brain. They seemed like reliable sources! Maybe they had some information about Yorick’s whereabouts. He drifted over to the group and tapped the gang leader on the shoulder. The men fell silent and stared at Nico. Or rather, they stared at his fingertips grazing the precious leather of their leader’s jacket.

“Are you sure?” As Esmerelda interrogated, her bangs fell in front of her face. “There’s been no Boost deals here? Nothing?” The woman scratched the side of her head under the bandana, shrugging. “Not for a few months. Too many cops patrolling around the bar for anything to happen.” Esmerelda sighed, arms crossing over her chest as she tapped her finger against her forearm, thinking. The music bouncing in the background made the ice cubes on some of the drink glasses rattle, and she could feel the bass pulsing in her chest. “Very well. Thank you for your time….” She turned to walk away, but what the woman said next stopped Esmerelda in her tracks.

“You Grail kids been poking your noses around here a lot lately. I’d watch out if I were you.”

“Grail kids? Do you mean there have been other students in here recently?”

“Well, yeah….not many, mind you. But it’s easy to pick ‘em out in a crowd.”

“What did they look like?” Esmerelda lurched forward with intent, listening.

“There’s this tall girl who’s a regular here. Letterman jacket. Usually has a blue haired chick and a cat faunus following her around, sometimes a kid in a lab coat too. Buncha’ weirdos.”

“Anyone else you can remember?”

“Hm….I think, yeah. New one been tagging along with them, ponytail and goggles. Real fidgety.”

Esmerelda had to hide her glee as she shook the woman’s hand. “Thanks, you’ve been a big help.” She snaked away with a keen smile, slipping up to Bernard’s side, who was startled and hugged his shoulders to his neck when she arrived. “He was here,” She murmured, “With Queenie and the others.” Bernard nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a cacophony of hollers and grumbles that erupted from the group of bikers that formed a huddle on the dance floor. Nico stood at its middle.

“Boys, boys, boys! Please! No autographs, I’m a very busy man”, Nico tittered. One of the bikers shoved him in the shoulder, making him fumble backwards into the arms of another biker. This one shoved Nico back into the center of the huddle. “Listen here, ya gutterpunk,” the gang’s leader spoke out, combing back his hair into place, “Nobody touches Morado’s jacket. Nobody.” His goons repeated him with cackles, “Yeah, nobody! Morado’s king ‘round here!”

“Are you seriously talking in third person?” Nico raised a brow at Morado before turning to address his underlings, “And you guys let him do that?” Morado snarled at him. Nico threw his hands up and looked off to the side. “Jeez, you are a stereotype. But hey, I don’t judge! You do you. I can see you don’t want to answer any questions, I get it, I got it. Now, I’m part of a very famous and influential musical group, don’t bother looking us up, I’m sort of a celebrity.” Some of the bikers stepped backwards out of the huddle, not wanting to have to add assault and battery of someone famous to their criminal records. There was no humanly possible way to become more smug than Nico was at that moment, his smile stretching the corners of his mouth like rubber bands. “Yeah, that’s right, VIP coming through. So I’ll just squeeze past-” Nico began to slip through, but the biker’s hand that pushed his chest and thrusted him backwards stopped him. “Not so fast.”

Nico’s artificial smile quivered. “You’re in a band?” Morado glanced at the other two people standing by the jukebox. “Prove it. Play something.”

The sweat was starting to drip down the side of Nico’s face. He laughed nervously, “W-well, we don’t have our instruments, and we still have to do our vocal warm ups, uh-” Morado lifted Nico off the ground by his jacket collar. His arms flexed underneath his jacket sleeves, and Nico squeaked when he feld his feet swinging back and forth, a yard above the floor. “SING, LITTLE MAN!” The man roared in Nico’s face, shaking him. His goons closed the circle around them and whooped and cheered, excited to watch their boss in action. Nico swung his leg upwards like a hatchet, nailing Morado in the crotch with the heel of his boot. He let out a wail and dropped Nico to the floor, and the boy scrambled to his feet. Esmerelda and Bernard rushed to his side when he was assaulted, but Morado easily stepped between them once he recovered.

The gang leader cracked his knuckles with a menacing glare, the other bikers pulling out an array of weapons from their pockets and forming a wall behind their king. The reflections of their switchblades glinting in the overhead fluorescent lighting, Morado hissed, “See, Morado was just going to give you a quick pummeling and send you on your way. But now? Now, you’re dead meat.”

The music from the jukebox stopped. Esmerelda and Bernard pushed themselves past the barrier of bikers, and Nico braced for the impact of Morado’s fist in his face. But it never came. His clenched fist was raised in the air, his arm wound back and ready to launch, when the bouncer burst into the pub and yelled, “IT’S THE PIGS!”

Almost on cue, a drunkard sitting at the bar screamed out “SCATTER!” and threw the bottle of beer he was drinking from on the floor. The glass exploded like a small firecracker, and in a chaotic flurry, all of the bar’s patrons flew off in separate directions, breaking more bottles and flipping tables as they all made their escape before the police arrived. The biker gang dove through the exit in the kitchen, Morado warning the trio, “This ain’t over” before fleeing the scene. The lights flickered off. Esmerelda grabbed Nico by the arm and hefted him up, the three of them crawling out through the overhead window in the women’s bathroom.

“Great, now we have another enemy”,  Nico growled. Esmerelda brushed snow off her coat, the flakes sprinkling to the ground like powdered sugar, and she held up a finger in front of his face. “Correction. You have another enemy.”

Voshkie dialed a number on his scroll and listened to the dialtone. He stared into the embers that sizzled in his office fireplace, stoking it ever-so-slightly with a metal poker. He glanced down at the files in his hand. The building’s maid picked up the line. “Yes, Kelly? Could you to come in to the office early on monday? The Records Hall needs a good cleaning….yes, of course….yes…” Voshkie let the files fall into the fire, page by page, watching them turn black and disintegrate. Everything on Sable. Everything on the Hedge Witches. Everything that could compromise his position in office. “....Yes. That should be fine. Just make sure it gets taken care off. I have a mess of my own to attend to.”

[qru-bim]

[REVISTA-AMERICA]

QRUBIM PARA A BILLBOARD.

Entrevista exclusiva para artigo digital da revista Billboard, feito pela jornalista Meghan Yorick. QruBim revela seu processo de produção e trabalha, oque deseja no futuro, pessoal e profissionalmente. E afirma que deseja lançar Repackage do Oblivion!

Meghan Yorick: 

Olá, senhorita Hwang Bomin (risos). Quero começar dizendo que estou gostando muito do seu conteúdo no YouTube, ele passa muito da sua identidade e é uma alternativa interessante para o público te conhecer melhor. Fiquei sabendo que você mesma editou seus vídeos, como você faz para ser tão engraçada apenas editando?

QruBim:

Eu sempre gostei de brincar com esses tipos de piadas situacionais do tipo comédia, e todo o pessoal que me ajuda a filmar ajuda muito para eu ter conteúdos divertidos, então eles realmente me conhecem e sabem como eu trabalho. Se eu faço aleatoriamente uma coisa, as câmeras logo estão em mim, focando nessas piadas situacionais, minha equipe de filmagem é capaz de improvisar e responder às situações na hora, sem hesitação (risadas).

Meghan Yorick:

E você esteve muito ativa no YouTube nesses últimos meses. Você parece ser uma pessoa muito trabalhadora.

QruBim:

É verdade que quando estou promovendo posso ser muito ativa, mas fora do trabalho não há muito o que fazer ou focar; quando estou de folga eu começo a editar coisas, como vídeos e imagens, quando estou trabalhando em algo minha cabeça fica mais clara e posso organizar melhor meus pensamentos. Por isso, acho que até mesmo quando tenho um tempo pra mim, estou pensando em organizar minhas coisas de trabalho.

Meghan Yorick:

Que tipo de pessoa você quer ser em 10 anos?

QruBim:

Eu trabalho com algo que me consome bastante, ser uma cantora e uma idol não é algo nada fácil. Então eu quero me consumir de uma forma sábia. Eu quero ser uma cantora que faz música de forma confiante e inteligente. Ser uma celebridade não deve ser algo onde você está algemado, eu quero ser aquela que está feliz fazendo o que quer.

Meghan Yorick:

Oh, e eu posso sentir como você trabalhou muito neste álbum (Oblivion) com os olhos objetivos e imparciais de um produtor.

QruBim:

Sobre isso, eu queria fazer as pessoas pensarem quando ouvissem este álbum, “Ela se introduziu com um álbum realmente direto e sincero!” Um álbum que as pessoas vão gostar de ouvir, mas também terá muito a dizer. Um álbum que é divertido do início ao fim sem uma música que você realmente precise se esforçar para ouvir. Apesar de ser nova, sinto que posso determinar se uma música é uma música que pode capturar imediatamente o ouvinte desde a primeira audição dela ou se é uma música que levará mais duas ou três escutas para o ouvinte realmente amá-lo. 

Meghan Yorick:

Que tipo de pessoa você quer ser em 10 anos?

QruBim:

Apesar de estar fazendo algo que me consome bastante, que é ser uma cantora pop. Então eu quero me consumir de uma forma sábia. Eu quero ser uma cantora que faz música de forma confiante e inteligente. Ser uma celebridade não deve parecer que você está algemado. Eu tenho que ser aquela que está feliz fazendo o que quer.

Meghan Yorick:

E que tipo de cantora você quer ser em 10 anos?

QruBim:

Bem, se você pensar bem, já respondi um pouco na última resposta. Mas pensando nisso, quero me apresentar como uma cantora mainstream para o mundo. Eu quero tocar uma música realmente boa que faça as pessoas se sentirem confortáveis ​​para que enquanto elas estejam ouvindo possam sentir um abraço no coração. Eu tenho ouvido a música da cantora Aileen, 'Burning Pile', recentemente e aprendi com ela que você pode tornar alguém um fã apenas com sua voz, quero fazer isso também. Eu gosto de pessoas que têm seu próprio espaço que os outros não podem tocar, e é exatamente o que penso em seguir.

Meghan Yorick:

Existe algum tipo de gênero musical que você queira experimentar?

QruBim:

Eu quero fazer música inspirada em Future Bass pelo menos uma vez. Embora eu goste de cantar acústico, nunca fiquei presa em gêneros na hora de compor. Então me apaixonei pela música future bass e não consigo sair dos instrumentais cheios de coisas. Mas não é este álbum, não o próximo, nem o próximo. Eu não sei, mas vou me preparar cuidadosamente e lançar o álbum perfeito. Não é nada para se apressar, então estou apenas tomando meu tempo. Você não precisa ser ganancioso por algo que não tem certeza.

Meghan Yorick:

E que tipo de música você quer cantar?

QruBim:

Eu quero cantar mais músicas que eu mesma voi fazer. Quão incrível seria criar uma música só para mim e fazer com que os cupids, meus fãs, também a reconhecessem como algo especial? Atualmente estou no processo de alcançar meu objetivo de criar memórias para poder escrever sobre. Quando me imagino na indústria por muito tempo, provavelmente eu cantaria até os 60 anos, o que é muito mais velho do que vivi até agora, então não tenho pressa.

Meghan Yorick:

As ações de alguém já fizeram você pensar que eles eram realmente ambiciosos como você diz para não ser?

QruBim:

Tem, meu pai (risos). Sempre que meu pai consegue algo, não é o fim. Há sempre novas adições aos seus interesses e especialidades. Sempre há algo novo - sejam objetos que ele quer ou coisas que ele quer fazer.

Meghan Yorick:

O pai da QruBim parece muito fofo. (risos)

QruBim:

Na verdade ele é muito fofo (risos). Eu amo muito meu pai. Mesmo que às vezes eu seja duro com ele e diga ‘Pai, por favor, fique satisfeito com isso’, também acho que é uma sorte que ele seja assim.

Meghan Yorick:

Em vez de alguém realmente ambicioso, ele não é apenas uma pessoa com muita energia?

QruBim: 

Isso é verdade. Mesmo que eu sempre tenha uma quantidade infinita de novos objetivos porque o sangue do meu pai corre dentro de mim, não tenho o prazer que ele tem com tudo o que faz. Meu pai é um verdadeiro aventureiro. Se eu disser a ele 'Eu lhe darei muito dinheiro para gastar, então você pode ficar quieto e viver uma vida fácil e confortável?', ele diria 'Não é sobre o dinheiro. É sobre ter um coração que quer alcançar lugares maiores e melhores.'

Meghan Yorick:

E qual seria o seu próximo passo para fazer todos os seus desejos contados aqui se realizarem?

QruBim:

Bom, meus planos para o futuro próximo são… não sei se deveria estar dizendo isso, mas estou pensando em lançar talvez um Repackage Album. Ainda não tenho certeza de nada, mas quero voltar o mais rápido possível com música nova e visual novo. Por favor, fiquem de olho e atentos em mim.

[fatherentropy]

it's okay if I don't play ESO because I'm drawing ESO right?

I like the new prologue but I cannot for the life of me understand why they put the old base game prologue THERE. I'm lucky I've played a few times prior because from a new player standpoint that's just fucked up.

Idk much about Vanus but I was just exhausting dialogue and the absolute horror when you ask weird questions is funny and unfortunately if you do that around Yorick you will never know peace again.

[wepurge-rpg]

Si estáis pendientes de la apertura de House of Dragons (antes en el tumblr de Winds of Fire que borraron), foro reutilizado de a saber cual, sabed que abren el 1/11 y no admiten reservas, pero "De todas formas, para nuestros usuarios más atentos, estaremos dejando en los días previos a la apertura nuestro discord, por donde podrán enterarse de novedades y estar al tanto de todo en tiempo real." O sea, si no estás en discord te comes una mierda. Aunque por lo que se lee, el foro lo será, Yorick.

Foros con discord = caca.

R.

[petervc88]

Cappelle O'Clock - Songs about Winter - 4 december 2024

In deze uitzending van Cappelle O'Clock op Nowhere Radio draaide ik liedjes over de winter.

Terugluisteren kan hier.

Dit was de playlist:

The Bangles - A Hazy Shade Of Winter Fleet Foxes - White Winter Hymnal Janis Ian - In The Winter Steve Miller Band - Wintertime Kayak - Wintertime The Doors - Wintertime Love Neil Young - Winterlong The Rolling Stones - Winter Doug Ashdown - Winter In America Wings - Winter Rose / Love Awake Yorick van Norden - Winter Tori Amos - Winter Frank Boeijen Groep - Winter in Hamburg Queen - A Winter's Tale Angel - The Winter Song

Cappelle O'Clock is iedere woensdagavond van 21:00 t/m 22:00 te horen op Nowhere Radio.

[leagueofgumi]

🌟🌟Nuevas skins para campeones! Los splash art son de #LeeSin #Singed #AurelionSol y #Zac🌟🌟 🎮RIFA FULL GUYS STEAM: www.fb.com/leagueofgumi/posts/3145108325587354 Más skin para campeones en proceso: Nautilus, Skarner, Ornn, Anivia, Aurelion Sol, Azir, Illaoi, Ivern, Singed, Yorick, Zac. https://lan.leagueoflegends.com/es-mx/news/dev/estado-de-aspectos-y-eventos/ 💥💥Participa en los mini torneos del #Stream de One For All los #lunes, #miércoles y #viérnes server Lan, los Ganadores obtendrán ORBES gratis! . Te esperamos a partir de las 7 pm hora del centro de México. 💥💥 💌CONVIÉRTETE EN COLABORADOR: fb.com/becomesupporter/649060838525461/ #leagueoflegends #newskin https://www.instagram.com/p/CE9nmmtlN2J/?igshid=1e6bvxvbx37vl

[levysoft]

L'opera, lunga oltre le mille pagine, si segnala per un'intricata ed inusuale struttura narrativa, caratterizzata dalla presenza a dir poco labirintica di molteplici narratori e da una cronologia interna fortemente frastagliata e non lineare, sorretta da un'imponente mole di note a piè di pagina (se ne contano 388, molte delle quali note di ulteriori note), fungenti da collante tra i vari livelli della narrazione e, allo stesso tempo, da caleidoscopico strumento d'approfondimento alle tematiche affrontate.

[...]

La complessità e vastità della sua struttura e dei temi trattati lo ha dunque spesso portato ad essere definita un esempio di "romanzo enciclopedico postmoderno" e ad essere accostata, come altre opere di Wallace, alle correnti del realismo isterico e dell'avantpop.

[...]

Wallace inviò il manoscritto - che nella prima stesura era lungo 1600 pagine - alla casa editrice Little, Brown and Company. L'editor che seguì la pubblicazione di Infinite Jest, Michael Pleitsch, operò alcuni tagli al romanzo, che Wallace accettò a malincuore. In una lettera datata 22 dicembre 1994, Pleitsch scrisse all'autore:

«Ciao David, ieri notte ho finito di rileggere Infinite Jest e voglio dirti ancora quanto eccitato sia all’idea di lavorare con te per pubblicarlo. Farò tutto quello che sarà necessario per trovargli dei lettori. È esattamente la sfida e l’avventura per cui sono entrato nell’editoria [...]. Spero ancora che ci sia modo di renderlo molto più corto non perché ogni singolo brano non sia meraviglioso, ma perché più lungo sarà più persone troveranno scuse per non leggerlo. Nelle pagine allegate ho elencato capitoli e scene che forse possono essere tolte senza uccidere il paziente.»

[...]

Il romanzo prende il nome, almeno in parte, da un verso dell'Amleto, in cui il principe danese fa riferimento a Yorick, il buffone di corte: "Ahimè, povero Yorick! L'ho conosciuto, Orazio: un compagno di scherzi infiniti"(infinite jest, in lingua originale). A tale citazione si fa allusione molte volte, dato che la compagnia cinematografica di James Incandenza si chiama "Poor Yorick Productions".

Trama

Le vicende ruotano attorno alla cartuccia smarrita di un film (a cui spesso si fa riferimento come "l'Intrattenimento") intitolata Infinite Jest dal suo autore, James Incandenza: la visione del film produce un vero e proprio piacere fisico, talmente intenso che i suoi ignari spettatori dopo pochi istanti diventano catatonici e perdono qualsiasi interesse per tutto ciò che non sia l'infinita visione del film.

La cartuccia rappresenta l'incarnazione estrema della dipendenza, uno dei temi centrali del romanzo, che si svolge in gran parte nell'accademia di tennis fondata da Incandenza (l'ETA, situata nei sobborghi di Boston) e nell'attigua casa di recupero e reinserimento per tossicodipendenti (l'Ennet House) in cui presta servizio Don Gately, un ex ladro d'appartamenti e tossicodipendente in via di reinserimento.

Nel mondo futuristico del romanzo, il Nord America è uno stato unico composto dagli Stati Uniti, dal Canada e dal Messico denominato Organization of North American Nations. Le grandi imprese acquistano il diritto di dare il nome a ciascun anno del calendario e quelli che una volta erano gli Stati Uniti del nord est sono diventati un'enorme e insalubre discarica annessa al Quebec, conosciuta come "La Grande Concavità", in cui confluiscono le scorie di un processo di produzione energetica noto come "anulazione". Di converso, il Canada tende a non voler riconoscere il territorio come proprio (per ovvi motivi): si tratta, insomma, di una terra di nessuno.

Tempo Sponsorizzato

Nel futuro rappresentato nel romanzo, la spietata ricerca di nuovi mercati ha creato un mondo in cui, per decreto dell'ONAN, gli anni prendono il nome unicamente dal loro sponsor aziendale.

Anno del Whopper

Anno dei Cerotti Medicati Tucks

Anno della Saponetta Dove in Formato Prova

Anno del Pollo Perdue Wonderchicken

Anno della Lavastoviglie Silenziosa Maytag

Anno dell'Upgrade per Motherboard-Per-Cartuccia-Visore-A-Risoluzione-Mimetica-Facile-Da-Installare Per Sistemi TP Infernatron/InterLace Per Casa, Ufficio, O Mobile Yushityu 2007 (sic)

Anno dei Prodotti Caseari dal Cuore dell'America

Anno del Pannolone per Adulti Depend

L'autore.Anno di Glad