#the Battle of Taras

[falseandrealultravival]

Gutenberg and Luther: Disruptive Technology (Essay)

Martin Luther

Technological innovations that "evaporate" a single market are sometimes called "disruptive technologies." Kodak is an example of a company that faced a life-or-death crisis because it stuck to conventional film despite the widespread use of digital cameras. When photographs are stored and printed electronically, the traditional film camera market will 'evaporate'.

Now that the information medium that replaces "paper" has become commonplace as it is today, looking back, we can see that "paper = letterpress printing" was also a "destructive technology" in the Middle Ages.

In medieval Europe, instead of what we now call paper, they used "parchment", a "paper" derived from animals, so copying sutras by hand was inefficient. Cai Lun of China invented paper in 105 A.D. A paper craftsman who was taken prisoner by the Tang Dynasty in China during the Battle of Taras in 751 passed on to the Saracen Empire and passed on his paper-making skills to the Saracen Empire for many years. In 1189, it was introduced to France.

And here comes a person who uses medieval "disruptive technology". Johannes Gutenberg (1398?-1468). In 1455, he printed the Old Testament and the New Testament. At that time, people thought that hand-copying sutras would not have been possible in such a large quantity, and that it was the work of the devil. (At that time, the Bible was written by hand, letter by letter.) Gutenberg himself was betrayed by his business partner and felt bitter, but continued the printing and binding business.

Then, when it became possible for anyone to obtain the Bible relatively cheaply, the momentum for the Reformation increased, and Martin Luther (1483-1546) raised his voice. (By the time he was born, Gutenberg's Bible was already circulating.)

As we have seen, "paper = letterpress printing" is very similar and parallel to the modern IT revolution. Perhaps it is a "disruptive technology" that is more drastic than the IT revolution or equivalent. Today's Twitter and Facebook on the Internet have moved Arab youth and produced the "Jasmine Revolution." The situation is very similar in the case of the Reformation. Because there is no need for a professional priest like the Catholic Church, and each person is now able to face the Bible. It is a gift of letterpress printing that can print in large quantities = bookbinding.

[stronglikeayellowcrayon]

Behind the scenes of Once More With Feeling, the Buffy the Vampire Slayer musical episode (x)

[brionbroadway]

ally was too good at this

[its-to-the-death]

Battle of the Gingers Wave 1 Preliminary Round #52

Whoever gets the most votes moves onto the next wave

Pictures below the cut

Jack Rackham (Les Pirates D’Abord)

Camélia (Entre deux lignes)

[gh-0-stcup]

[shannaraisles]

The Warden's Witch - @euryalex

For the delightful @euryalex, who requested a crossover of BG3 and Dragon Age, with her OC Tara and Wyll Ravengard dropped into the wild world of Thedas. Lots of fun to write, and there may be more to come!

The Warden’s Witch

The shade rose from the stones, claws already reaching for the Grey Warden. 

Wyll stumbled backward, sword still sheathed at his hip, shield raised only for protection. 

“Wait!”

The shade, perhaps surprised to be addressed when about to attack, hesitated, and Wyll sensed more curiosity than hostility for the briefest of moments. Time enough to make his plea.

“The Chasind say you can grant protections in exchange for a gift,” he said, hoping he was staring the thing in the eyes. “I’ve come to be that protection for someone.”

Gazarath paused in its slow advance, flame licking at the tips of those outstretched claws, but again, Wyll realised it was waiting for him to speak. He swallowed against the knot in his throat, forcing out the words that he knew he should not be speaking.

“I have a friend,” he began. “A very dear friend. When battle is joined, we Wardens will be in the vanguard to face this first push of the Blight, and it is unlikely any of us will survive. I beg your protection upon Alistair Theirin, unknown brother of the king, and my friend.”

It was not just any life he was asking for. Whether Alistair knew it or not, whether he wanted it or not, his life was about to change. Cailan was no fool; he must know of his bastard brother, and know that Alistair was the only heir he could possibly field at this point in his life. If Alistair died, the Calenhad line would die, and Orlais would be back to thoroughly subsume Ferelden once more. Wyll could not bear to see that happen, not when his family had bled so much to see the Orlesians pushed from the country in living memory. 

“And what do you offer in place of his life?”

The question seared into his mind, scorching words riddled with scorn for what this demon perceived as cowardice on his part. Wyll bristled against that ignorant assumption of his character, but forced the retort away. Antagonising this ... thing ... was not the way to go in order to get what he felt was needed. Instead, he just had to hope that his Chasind contact had been correct in her assertion as to the reason this shade still haunted this spot. 

“I have heard that you long for death,” he said, his tone wary, eyes watchful for any sign that the shade might take this as an invitation to attack. “I am not strong enough to give you such release myself, but I guarantee to you that I will draw out a party of Wardens with more than strength enough to do this deed.”

“Death ...”

He held his breath as the shade pondered his offer, hoping it would be enough. 

After all, the two recruits looked strong enough, even if Daveth couldn’t quite get his head around the fact that there would be a woman joining them when Duncan got back from Kinloch. They were be among those who were sent out to find him when he did not return. And Duncan himself had said he would send the recruits with Alistair out here to fetch the contents of the warded strongbox in the tower yonder, currently teeming with darkspawn. They would have to pass this way, and they would not be able to resist the urge to summon Gazarath without knowing what it was. Since it attacked everyone who wasn’t ready for it, Wyll saw no lie in what he was offering. 

WIthout warning, a sudden blast of energy erupted from the shade, his hand automatically gripping the hilt of his sword, the blade half-unsheathed before he realised it had been no attack. The shade merely stood before him, amid its cairn of stones, power now linking him and it. And there was a third thread he could sense, the blood link he shared with his fellow Wardens telling him that the recipient of that third thread was Alistair. 

“You will not return to your Wardens. You will be an exile, as I have been, until the day you die.”

Relief flooded him. Gazarath had taken the deal. Alistair was survive the coming battle. After that, it would be up to him, but Wyll had given his friend a chance he did not know was coming, and that was what truly mattered to him. He sheathed his sword, saluting the shade with a fist against his heart as the creature sank back into the stones to await its now inevitable end. 

“Well, now.”

Wyll jumped, spinning about to find a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman behind him, staff in one hand, dark eyes trained on his face. Witch. She smirked at the alarm on his face. 

“What do we have here?” she said, her cadence warm, if measured. “A lone Grey Warden, doing deals with the restless shade of a demon that once hounded a Chasind woman to her death out of possessive lust. How far the mighty do fall.”

“I am not here to answer to you, witch,” he said, with more bravado than he felt. He was alone in the Korcari Wilds, there were darkspawn uncomfortably close, and a Chasind witch stood between him and the path to the road. 

“No, you are here to bargain for the life of your friend,” she said, and he could have sworn he saw something more compelling than curiosity in her gaze. Was that ... envy, perhaps? Longing? “What is it about this friend that makes you so willing to throw away everything in order to keep him safe?”

He could not have said why, but in that moment, he felt no need to lie. Perhaps it was the danger of his situation; perhaps it was that she had done nothing to even threaten harm. Perhaps he just needed someone living to know, before he, too, succumbed to the blighted corruption and died doing what he had sworn to do. 

“He and I were Joined together,” he told her, this stranger in the wilds, a witch perhaps of legend. “We swore our vows together, drank the cup together. We trained together. He is the closest I have ever had to a true brother. He does not deserve to have his life end here and now because of the foolish ambitions of the king.”

“And you do?” Her brow rose, curious at his eagerness to throw away his life. 

“His life will be a great one, I am sure of it,” Wyll informed her. “My own worth is determined by how many darkspawn I will take with me to the grave.”

“Oh, I do not -”

But her rebuttal, however sincere it might have been, was broken by the sound genlocks charging from the trees, and from then on, instinct took over. Wyll found himself standing back to back with a witch, an apostate mage, trusting her to keep him alive as she trusted him to do the same, both of them united against the Blighted foe without the need for further words. Black blood was spilled, scorched, blasted into oblivion. In a matter of minutes, the Wilds were quiet once more, and Wyll stood, panting as he cleaned and sheathed his blade, his eyes checking over the woman who had just saved his life.

“Are you hurt?”

Her head snapped up from her own inspection, the surprise in her gaze more than enough to tell him that her own safety was a matter of second concern for those who usually surrounded her. 

“I ... I am unharmed,” she managed through her surprise, lowering her staff from its defensive position. She cleared her throat, tossing her head to send her hair rippling in a raven-black cascade down her back. “You are a worthy warrior. It would be a shame to have you die before your deal is completed. Your death nullifies the agreement, you understand?”

Wyll hesitated, glancing at the ash-covered stones.

“I ... No, I was not aware of that caveat,” he admitted, his lips daring to quirk just a little at the sound of her rather sweet laugh in response to his ignorance. “Then it appears I must stay alive until after the battle, even after Gazarath dies.”

“Out here, that will be a tall order for a man alone,” she mused, picking at some unseen splinter on her staff. “I think I will join you. It would be a shame to see your bargaining go to waste.”

His eyes narrowed, uncertain if he should trust her.

“And what is your price for this ... assistance?”

Her lips twisted into a dark smile that seemed more practised than true. 

“That, we can discuss once we are away from here,” she said, gesturing to the battlefield around them. “The Chasind will soon come out of their camps to paw over these bodies, and my si- someone will be soon at the tower nearby. They may attempt to prevent us.”

Wyll’s head tilted as he considered her for a long moment. There was something there, something in the way she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, in the shift of her feet and the set of her shoulders ... she was running from something. She hadn’t intended to come across him, but their meeting gave her additional protection she had not expected to find. What could a witch of the wilds be running from?

In truth, what did it matter? She had saved his life, as he had saved hers, and both proven they could fight well together. He only needed to live at most a few days, and Alistair’s continued breath would be guaranteed. If he could deliver her from her pursuers in that time, all well and good.

“Very well,” he agreed, holding out a hand to her. “A witch and a Warden, it shall be. Wyll Ravengard, at your service.”

Long, slender fingers slid into the grasp of his gauntlet, squeezing just firmly enough that he felt it through the shake. Those deep, dark eyes flickered to his, limned with a strange sort of innocence he had not expected to find out here in this desolate place. 

“Tara,” she said in return. “My name is Tara.”

“Well, then, Tara .. shall we be going?” He flashed her a cocky grin, settling his shield on his back once more, hooked firmly over the travel pack he had snuck from the camp earlier in the day. 

“After you, Warden Ravengard,” he said, gesturing with a magnanimous sweep of her free hand. “I am your witch.”

As he turned to lead the way back to the path and turn their steps to the north, away from Ostagar and the Wilds, he couldn’t help a faint flicker of warm interest in his chest at those sweet, wicked little words.

My witch. Wouldn’t that be something?

[ortegaversesimp]

Hey guys 👋 hope you all had a happy holidays!!! Thought you all deserved a first look before ao3 of the new chapter @streaminn and I wrote recently!! Enjoy! ....

Tara quietly steps out of Chad's hospital room, already tired of the conversation the twins were arguing about. Seriously, did they really need to start talking about whether or not Chad may be some type of super outcast? 

Did super outcasts even exist?

“I'm telling you Mindy…I'm indestructible! No knife can get past these abs of steel,” Chad exclaimed happily, a bright smile never faltering from his bruised face. The former jock was remarkably high spirits despite having yet another set of near fatal stab wounds. You’d think the betrayal of his roommate would make him frown but he bounced back as well as once can.

“For the last time, we are twins dingus!!” She points out. “If you were one, then so would I be!” Mindy moaned into her hands. The saner twin had her feet resting on her brother's bed leisurely as she kicked his thigh to emphasize her point. She did it gently ofcourse, never the type to truly hurt her brother.

His feelings maybe but never physically.

“They should have given me the strong painkillers instead,” Chad continues, completely unfazed. Mindy glares at her brother, unamused as he continues his tirade. Anika couldn’t help but fondly roll her eyes beside her girlfriend as a soft smile rested in her tired face. The girl was bound on a wheelchair and definitely hurt but alive thanks to Enid's quick thinking and reflexes.

Sam meanwhile was finally taking a well earned nap on a very uncomfortable bedside chair, snoring lightly and looking more at peace than she had been for months. Not to mention totally oblivious to the twins' childish bickering and Tara's silent escape.

Walking down the busy hospital corridor Tara paused and took a quick peek into Kirby's room, spotting her FBI friend flirting up a storm with a very cute blushing male nurse. The two caught each other's eyes for a moment and Tara waved with an amused grin before continuing on her way two doors down to where Enid currently resided. 

It reminded her of…

Her beau? Lover? Friend?

Jeez, Tara thought. She really needs to know where they stood.

Her and Enid, just what are they?

The final girl continued on her way to a private hospital room paid for by a generous Gale Weathers and opened the door with a silent slide. Her steps were slow, trying to make sure she didn’t disturb her critical friend by triggering that great hearing of hers.

How did she know this? Well, you get quite intimate with the thing that helped save the two from an awkward run in whenever Sam came in early.

Looking towards the bed she had left Enid sleeping in an hour ago, Tara froze and fear paralyzes her for what seemed to be the hundredth time that week. 

An empty bed greets her with no comatosed blondie in sight. 

Panic hits Tara like a truck and immediately her mind starts running. This was a private room, there was simply no way someone could’ve taken Enid.

But… her mind brings up that hospital night all those times before. The night where everyone seemed to be gone and all that's left is her and a killer. Sure, they were in New York now but Enid was weak. What if someone had kidnapped her during her horrible stay!?

Flashbacks of herself broken and bruised feebly crawling away from Amber in an abandoned hospital floor all alone a year ago flashes through her head.

Turning around, the pint sized panic quickly runs out of the room  and to the nearest nurses station a few feet away.  Okay, all she had to do was get the cavalry from Chad's room and wake up Sam. Sam will know what to do, her big sister will fix this and then they will find her girlfri-....her something.

Regret rushes to the surface as she realizes her and Enid never got to finish their talk on where they stand with each other. 

It was hard to continue a conversation when you had  a serial killer pop in and proceed to nearly gut Enid like a fish.

"Excuse me!”  The tiny brunette gasps as she slammed her hands on the desk. As she laid there for a few moments, Tara didn’t know whether she was having a heart attack or an asthma attack at this point. 

“The blonde in room 105,” Tara continues, very obviously out of breath. “The one with an open side and no self preservation, where is she?!"

It takes a bit before the nurse blinks with recognition. "Oh!” She points out.  “Are you Tara Carpenter?”

Tara nods her head so hard she feared that she might’ve become a human bobble head.

“Hello sweetheart,” she says, completely unaware of the crisis Tara has right now. “Miss Sinclair mentioned that a tiny brunette might look for her, you've just missed her I'm afraid, she just discharged herself, against medical advice” said the nurse disapprovingly before fondly sighing. “Hard headed that one, thankfully werewolves heal quicker than the rest of us.”

‘WEREWOLF?!!’ alarm bells ringing in Tara's head. So many pieces of the puzzle that was Enid Sinclair suddenly snapping into place at those words.

“But she did leave something for you…” She continues before looking down and shuffling a few papers here and there. “Here it is, here you go sweetie.” The nurse smiled and gave a folded up note to Tara before she left the young girl in privacy.

Wait..she did what? thought Tara, looking down at the note perplexed. 

Now that Tara was all alone, she looked around her in hopes that this was just a prank. Enid had the love of suddenly popping up in the right place after all.

Slowly, Tara made her way past hurried doctors and entered Enid's empty room before shutting the door softly. It took a moment and next thing she knew, she sat on the uncomfortable familiar chair that she had rested in the previous night. To think that a few hours before, she was watching over her lover and once that chest evened out, Tara made a quick trip to visit her sister and friends earlier that morning.

She nearly crumples the paper at that. What if she didn’t leave? Would enid still be here?

With a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, she unfolded the note.

Hey beautiful, was the first sentence that caught her eye, Enid's chicken scratch writing bringing tears to the chocolate orbs as Enid's soft voice echoed in her ears.

Sorry for not sticking around and saying goodbye in person… shitty of me but I really hate goodbyes. A cliché I know. 

Tell the twins that they are the coolest twins I've ever met and I'm friends with a pair of awesome twin sirens, so Chad will be happy  ;) 

Tell Sam she'd make a hell of a wolf, and that she's a lot more brave than many pack leaders I know. I'd follow her lead anywhere. Tell her to look after herself, she deserves some rest. 

And finally you. Tara Carpenter. The girl that had me hooked since first sight or well punch XD I'll miss you most of all, dimples. I want you to know you've made this trip worthwhile, freaky serial killer and all!  

I guess it just wasn't our time. You're gonna have a great life Tara. I know it. And if any other creeps come out the woodwork.. just call.

I'll be there. I promise :)  

Anyway I better get going, I have a certain roomie who will use me as a rug if I miss the start of the semester :’D

Stay Safe! Have fun! 

Love your favorite werewolf, Enid xoxoxo (too much?)

Tara reads the note twice more, the tears long since starting flowing as the note falls from her fingertips, floating gently to the floor.

One scarred hand over her mouth, trying not to let the sobs escape, while her other on her heaving chest.

Feeling the loss of someone who could've been someone very very important.

Well.. who could've been anyway…

[galedekkarios]

is gale actually the worst guy alive or do people just have personal issues that give them a complex whenever someone else is a master of their craft and confident about it 🤔 hmmmmmmm

[onigiram]

TAGS. i didn't like the other ones asjbfjbsdjgb

[stairnaheireann]

#OTD in 1798 – United Irishman Rebellion | The rebels are defeated at Tara Hill; this marks the end of the rebellion in Co Meath.

The Battle of Tara Hill was fought on the evening of 26 May 1798 between British forces and Irish rebels involved in the Irish Rebellion of 1798, resulting in a heavy defeat for the rebels. Following the outbreak of the rebellion signaled in Meath by the prearranged signal of the ceasing of a mail-coach near Turvey hill, road blocks were posted on the Navan road United Irishmen and rebels in…

[innervoiceartblog]

A moonrise viewed from the mound of Shee Lugh on the summit of the ridge of Moytura. In the sky, representing Balor's Eye, is an image of the huge stone basin found in the eastern chamber at Knowth. - Michael O'Flanagan

http://www.carrowkeel.com/sites/moytura/moytura1.html

[bulletblade]

While both warriors strive for balance, Wii Fit Trainer was no match for the Avatar. A point for the challengers.

Smash: 35

Challengers: 10

This time, it's a battle of princesses, representing Sarasaland, Princess Daisy vs. the representative of the Red Kingdom, Princess Plump.

[deusexvalerate]

Tara and Cal

look at them

they're so cute and they don't even know they're in love yet

i NEED the next issue

[wildmelon]

tried to make different choices this playthrough and it was so painful

[captainswan618]

Ok but I’m actually crying laughing at Ally voting for Tara in the jury vote 😂😂😂

[shutupptara]

Knowing we play the Avs tomorrow and will likely hand them their 7th straight win and we get to experience Sid on the ice w Nate and Jo Dru 🤩