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Vilken flod är störst i världen?
Vad kan du om världens floder! Vad heter floden som skapar Niagarafallen? Vilken flod har störst vattenvolym? Vad är namnet på floden som mynnar ut “nära” Cheops-pyramiden? “Spaghetti-flod” med delta. Vilken? Rinner genom romerska rikets gamla huvudstad. Vad heter den? Denna flod flyter bl.a. under Tower Bridge. Vilken flod är det? Den här floden har skapat Grand Canyon. Vet du vilken det…
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TR Remastered levels in Swedish
TR1:
Grottor
Vilcabamba stad
Förlorade dalen
Qualopecs grav
St. Francis dårskap
Colosseum
Midas-palatset
Cisternen
Tihocans grav
Khamoon stad
Khamoons obelisk
Scionens fristad
Natlas gruvor
Atlantis
Den stora pyramiden
UB:
Tillbaka till Egypten
Kattens tempel
Atlantiska fästet
Bikupan
TR2:
Kinesiska muren
Venedig
Bartolis gömställe
Operahuset
Offshore rigg
Dykområde
40 famnar
Maria Dorias vrak
Bostadskvarter
Däcket
Tibetanska kullarna
Barkhangs kloster
Talions katakomber
Ispalatset
Xians tempel
Flytande öarna
Draklyan
Hem ljuva hem
TGM:
Kalla kriget
Kattguld
Gudarnas ugn
Kungarike
Mardröm i Vegas
TR3:
Djungel
Tempelruiner
Floden Ganges
Kaliyas grottor
Kustby
Kraschplats
Madubu-ravinen
Punas tempel
Kaj vid Themsen
Aldwych
Luds port
Stad
Nevadaöknen
Högsäkerhetsförening
Area 51
Antarktis
RX-Tech-gruvor
Tinnos förlorade stad
Meteoritgrotta
Alla helgons dag
TLA:
Höglandsflirten
Willards lya
Shakespeares klippa
Sover med fiskarna
Det är ett dårhus!
Återförening
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rhheehhehehhhahahaahhahahahhah double 007 and bruceyy waynee r shitting themsens bec cuase there s another name coming to claimcwhat is his to claim ten percent fas
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I wantsen to goesen applen pickening butsen the lasten timesen I didsen, I gotsen kickened outsen forren eatsing foursen treesen worthsen offen themsen..
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WHEN THE!!! THE THE THE THE
#spiny orbweavers of several kinds#spiders#bugs#LOSES IT LOSES MY FUCKING MIND!!! I KISSA THEM!!!! I GIGE THEMSEN RKFJF DJIF RJTJ A LITTLE KISSY!!!!!#OMFG#!!!!!!!#THE!!!!#DO YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS!!!#them.
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ah
#dont reblog#delete later#vent //#i have discovered the cause of my mood#its time for my unwanted interal body parts to expell themsens#great
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Темсӑҫӑм
Хам куҫарни:
Женева кӳлӗ хӗррине анса макрап... ах, Темсӑҫӑм, юх ерипен, юррӑм вӗҫлениччен, Темсӑҫӑм, юх ерипен, эп шарламас... анчах Витӗр сив ҫил вӗрнинче илтсе тӑрап-мӗн Вил шӑм��ак шӑтӑртатнипе ихӗлтнине.
Оригинал: Т С Элиот, T S Eliot. The waste land
By the waters of Leman I sat down and wept... Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song, Sweet Thames, run softly, for I speak not load or long. But at my back in a cold blast I hear The rattle of the bones, and chuckle from ear to ear.
Шӗветле: T S Eliot, Det öde landet. Jonas Ellerström куҫарнӑ:
Vid Genèvesjöns stränder där satt jag och grät... Sköna Themsen, flyt stilla tills jag slutat min sång, Sköna Themsen, flyt stilla, den är varken högljud eller lång, Men om ryggen drar det kallt och jag hör rasslet från de dödas ben och hur någon grinar brett.
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The podcast basically just shows how much a group Can waste of just one, or a few person’s time, in order to first impose one set of false doctrines to then create false memories/experiences to re-facilitate abuse on another false narrative created externally for the nmbenefit of the same abuser(s). The documentaries describing Cult members, gang-recruits and the psychoatric system shows how one abuse cycle Can simply be replaced by another by several systems that benefit from prolonged exploitation based on methods of abuse. A psychiatric patient, f.ex May have a Long record of several decades showing little, to ko improvement, in spite of the involvement of “professionals”. Modern medicine as we know it, based on the anaesthetics we have access to today, primarily based on opium and cocaine-derivatives, are often associated with rape, trafficking and birth (such as fentanyl), and Themsen proprietresses of these are rapist midwives (Catholic priests? Ibn Fadladn’s midwife madam? The Queen and Dianna? Wake up). https://www.instagram.com/p/CjP86BSMN0p/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Tid til sceneskift
Da jeg gik forbi Parlament Square i går, var græsplænen gul og forvandlet til støv efter en sommer med den værste hedebølge i Londons historie. Det kan politikerne 100 meter væk så tænke over. Daily Express kunne fortælle om udsigten til en inflation på 18 pct. senere på året og Evening Standard supplerede med udsigt til 50 pct. brændselsfattigdom. Metros morgenudgave opsummerede humørfyldt det hele ved at skrive på forsiden, at der i dagens avis er dårlige nyheder fra side 2 til 11 - den eneste gode nyhed er, at Elisabeth Line efter års forsinkelse endelig kører som planlagt - til november!
Men i dag regner det, da jeg er på vej til min forlægger for at tale om den næste bog. Forlaget er flyttet ind i nye mindre omgivelser i Marylebone og jeg møder forfriskende op i min drivvåde blazer. Hvad skal jeg undersøge og skrive om? Verden går fra krise til krise. Vi kan hurtigt blive enige om, at det gamle ikke virker, og at verden skal laves om - helt om - som den blev det for 100 år siden, da vi fik modernismen. Men hvordan gør man det og hvordan bliver det at leve i den - endnu ikke planlagte - ‘nymoderne’ verden efter covid, klima og krig? Det skal min nye bog handle om, fastslår vi! Og vi skal eksperimentere med formen, - måske skal vi integrere med podcasts og se, hvor det fører hen. Jeg indser, at jeg lige nu er ved at definere ikke blot min kommende bog men også mit fremtidige arbejdsfelt og min redaktør vil gerne spille med.
Jeg går optimistisk ud i regnen igen og ser ind gennem vinduerne til endnu et af byens tusindvis af coworking spaces, hvor prekariatet sidder med deres macbooks omgivet af floskler omkring kreativitet, innovation og det frie liv. For ti år siden var det eksperimenterende fællesskaber, nu er de blevet etablerede forretningsmodeller, drevet som supermarkedskæder og finansieret af venture kapitalister fra Kina og Sillicon Valley. Her i det velordnede London finder jeg ikke længere den nye fremtid.
Det er tid til at skifte scene, og jeg har tænkt mig at prøve lykken for enden af Victoria Line. Her ligger Brixton, en på alle måder kulørt bydel syd for Themsen midt i millionbyen. Her har jeg fundet et anderledes coworkingspace, hvor jeg kan flyve et skrivebord. Brixton er måske det mest markante kvarter i London; det har seriøse sociale problemer, men det har også et potentiale, som kan gøre Brixton til væksthus for nye tanker og ideer.
Indgangen til min nye arbejdsplads er alt andet end imponerende. Impact Brixton, står der på et skilt på døren, der er klemt ind mellem en hælebar og en lille købmand, der sælger ”Afro-Caribbean and English Food”. En ældre mand står og holder på huset, mens han ryger sjov tobak. Som sagt ser Impact Brixton ikke imponerende ud fra gaden, men det ændrer sig radikalt, når man kommer indenfor. Chefen er en ung intelligent iværksætter, der er en af hovedkræfterne bag Brixtons fornyelse. Han har arbejdet for Google, brød ud og startede et selskab han solgte til Silicon Valley og nu - 3 selskaber senere - arbejder han på at skabe et nyt arbejdsfællesskab, hvor passwordet til wifi’et er ‘dreambigger’. Når man skal se hvordan fremtiden bliver, skal man ikke se på dem, som styrer lige nu. Dem gik jeg forbi i Marylebone. Man skal se på de nye endnu uopdagede spillere, som har talenterne og viljen til at skabe fremskridt, og dem tror jeg, at jeg har fundet her på 1. sal i nummer 17a på Electric Lane.
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TR Remastered levels in Danish
TR1:
Grotter
Byen Vilcabamba
Forsvunden dal
Qualopecs gravsted
St. Francis' Kapel
Colosseum
Midaspaladset
Cisternen
Tihocans gravsted
Byen Khamoon
Khamoons obelisk
Scions helligdom
Natlas miner
Atlantis
Den store pyramide
UB:
Tilbage til Egypten
Kattens tempel
Atlantisk højborg
Bikuben
TR2:
Den store mur
Venedig
Bartolis skjulested
Operahuset
Offshore-boreriggen
Dykkerområde
40 favne
Vraget af Maria Doria
Indkvartering
Dækket
Tibetanske bjergudløbere
Barkhang-klosteret
Talions katakomber
Ispaladset
Xians tempel
Flydende øer
Dragens hule
Hjem, kære hjem
TGM:
Den kolde krig
Fattigmandsguld
Gudernes smelteovn
Kongerige
Mareridt i Vegas
TR3:
Jungle
Tempelruiner
Gangesfloden
Kaliyas grotter
Kystlandsby
Nedstyrtningssted
Madubu-kløften
Punas tempel
Themsens bolværk
Aldwych
Luds port
By
Nevadaørken
Højsikkerhedskompleks
Område 51
Antarktis
RX-Tech-miner
Tinnos forsvundne by
Meteorithule
Alle helgener
TLA:
Højlandsaffære
Willards hule
Shakespeares klippe
Til køjs med fiskene
Det er en galeanstalt!
Gensyn
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Commodity Price Shock Could Fuel New Boom in Green Tech Stocks (BLDP, ECOX, NIO, BE, FSLR, TSLA, CSIQ)
As commodity prices skyrocket higher following Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, attention in the markets is turning toward sustainability plays. The ideas are entwined. For example, one of the main hurdles to the development and maturation of the solar energy industry is the cost-effectiveness of using solar energy. This has become less important as the industry has scaled up over recent years. But it’s hardly irrelevant now, and will continue to be an issue over coming years. This is true even as the cost per kilowatt hour has become cheaper for alternative energies like wind, solar and other renewables than for hydrocarbon-based energies like oil and natural gas. Why? Because transitioning to something like solar power also implies an upfront fixed-cost installation and conversion investment that has to be figured in over any given 5-year budget plan. With that extra factor, solar and wind energy have remained more expensive than just keeping the fossil fuels flowing during recent years with oil pricing at an average of $60/bbl. But that all changes with Oil trading well above $100/bbl. The math changes, and we can expect the decisions by major energy consumers to change as well. This is not just an argument for solar. The same dynamic is happening across the economy. Lumber, wheat, copper, and other commodities have blasted off with Oil over recent weeks. And in every such case, the argument for environmentally sustainable technologies is bolstered. It suddenly makes much more sense to shift to a sustainability paradigm and break the addiction to scarce commodities. Given that backdrop, we take a look below at a handful of the most interesting stocks in the green technology space right now. Ballard Power Systems Inc. (Nasdaq:BLDP) bills itself as a company that engages in the design, development, manufacture, sale, and service of fuel cell products for a variety of applications. BLDP focuses on power product markets of heavy duty motive, portable power, material handling, and backup power, as well as the delivery of technology solutions. Ballard Power Systems Inc. (Nasdaq:BLDP) recently announced with ABB (SIX Swiss Ex: ABBN) – a leading global technology company that energizes the transformation of society and industry to achieve a more productive, sustainable future – that they have received a groundbreaking approval in principle ("AiP") from leading classification society DNV for a jointly developed fuel cell concept capable of generating 3 megawatts, or 4,000 HP, of electrical power. DNV is an international accredited registrar and classification society headquartered in Høvik, Norway. "ABB's industry-leading experience in marine solutions and Ballard's expertise in development and deployment of megawatt-scale fuel cell systems for land-based use has proven to be the right combination, enabling us to take the next step in our joint efforts to make this technology available for larger vessels," said Jesper Themsen, President and CEO of Ballard Power Systems Europe A/S. "Securing an AiP offers a signpost to the maritime industry regarding the potential of this truly transformative concept." Traders will note 5% piled on for shareholders of the stock during the trailing month, a bounce that has taken root amid largely bearish action over the larger time frame. The situation may be worth watching. BLDP has a track record that includes a number of dramatic bounces. In addition, the listing has registered increased average transaction volume recently, with the past month seeing 25% above the average volume levels in play in this stock over the longer term. Ballard Power Systems Inc. (Nasdaq:BLDP) has a significant war chest ($1.6B) of cash on the books, which is balanced by about $80.1M in total current liabilities. One should also note that debt has been growing over recent quarters. BLDP is pulling in trailing 12-month revenues of $122M. However, the company is seeing declines on the top-line on a quarterly y/y basis, with revenues falling at -6.9%. Eco Innovation Group (OTC US:ECOX) is a smaller name in the space, but the company appears to be ratcheting up commercial operations over recent months and could be on the verge of a number of key catalysts. The company’s model is driven by nurturing the work of top inventors in the US and Canada, helping to bring their best green-tech ideas to life and then signing exclusive licensing deals to commercialize the results. But the company has also entered the green construction space and has started to put together lucrative deals to renovate existing facilities for 21st century life. Eco Innovation Group (OTC US:ECOX) most recently that its green construction subsidiary, ECOX Spruce Construction, has been contracted to provide all services to renovate a retail location of a major U.S. merchandiser in Hyannis, Massachusetts. ECOX is particularly interesting because it has a portfolio of new ideas with commercial application, but it also has a diversified model that balances long-duration high-impact technology with more immediate revenue-generating operations, such as its green construction segment, which is now starting to drive topline growth to help fund its more ambitious higher-margin projects, like its PoolCooled technology. PoolCooled is a climate control solution that leverages proprietary technology to cool a home or building by taking cool water from an existing swimming pool and looping it through the existing air conditioning system to boost efficiency on a per-unit power consumption basis. It has enormous application potential, including the residential construction market as well as hotels, motels, and public facilities. The company appears to be readying PoolCooled for market this year. In the meantime, its ECOX Spruce Construction segment continues to pick up contracts, with a major California military base already signed on and now a major Fortune 500 retailer project underway. ECOX reportedly began work for this client on February 21st, and management has said that it believes its green construction segment may be in a position to renovate additional retail locations for this merchandiser, which boasts over 1,000 stores in North America, according to the company’s official communications. Eco Innovation Group (OTC US:ECOX) has set a goal of achieving $6 million in revenues from just its ECOX Spruce Construction projects in 2022. NIO Inc. ADR (NYSE:NIO) is a holding company that engages in the design, manufacture, and sale of electric vehicles. Its products include the EP9 supercar and ES8 7-seater SUV. The company provides users with home charging, power express valet services, and other power solutions including access to public charging, access to power mobile charging trucks, and battery swapping. It also offers other value-added services such as service package, battery payment arrangement, and vehicle financing and license plate registration. NIO Inc. ADR (NYSE:NIO) recently announced its February 2022 delivery results. According to its release, NIO delivered 6,131 vehicles in February 2022, representing an increase of 9.9% year-over-year. The deliveries consisted of 1,084 ES8s, the Company’s six- or seven-seater flagship premium smart electric SUV, 3,309 ES6s, the Company’s five-seater high-performance premium smart electric SUV, and 1,738 EC6s, the Company’s five-seater premium smart electric coupe SUV. As of February 28, 2022, cumulative deliveries of the ES8, ES6 and EC6 reached 182,853 vehicles. Even in light of this news, NIO has had a rough past week of trading action, with shares sinking something like -21% in that time. That said, chart support is nearby, and we may be in the process of constructing a nice setup for some movement back the other way. NIO Inc. ADR (NYSE:NIO) managed to rope in revenues totaling $1.5B in overall sales during the company's most recently reported quarterly financial data – a figure that represents a rate of top line growth of 131.7%, as compared to year-ago data in comparable terms. In addition, the company has a strong balance sheet, with cash levels exceeding current liabilities ($7.3B against $4.1B). Other key players in the sustainable technology space include Bloom Energy Corp. (NYSE:BE), First Solar Inc. (Nasdaq:FSLR), Tesla Inc. (Nasdaq:TSLA), and Canadian Solar Inc. (Nasdaq:CSIQ). Read the full article
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Top 10 Things to See in London
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Some inspiration in your vacation, 10 issues to do and see in London Subscribe for extra, lively movies!
For copyright issues please contact me at: [email protected]
Take a look at our twitter: https://twitter.com/TopArchlves
london eye view tower bridge london hyde park go to london tourism stunning wonderful trafalgar sq. england london madame tussauds saint mary axe london structure themsen london air pollution o2 area london buckhingam palace inside films filmed in london europe london shakespeare globe theater theatre
london issues to do and see 10 ting at lave i london england cose da vedere a 東西可看的 Dinge auf zu sehen nähtävää dingen te zien in stvari za vidjeti u saker att se i source
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SÖNDAG 1/10 kl.11-17
Söndag (kvinnofolkhögskolan, ingång masthuggstorget):
11:00 Beauvoir: Håkan Blomqvist - Potatisrevolutionen
Våren 1917 var arbetarstadsdelen Södermalm i Stockholm skådeplatsen för ett folkligt kvinnouppror som drog med sig tusentals söderbor. I det numera trendiga och krogtäta "Sofo" utspelade sig hungerkravaller när kvinnor försökte komma över potatis för att lindra nöden i arbetarhemmen. Det var världskrig, avspärrningar, brist och ransonering. Från Ryssland kom budskapet om den stora revolutionen som störtat tsardömet. I Sverige öppnade hungerprotesterna som svepte över landet beskrivna som »potatisrevolutionen« dörren för allmän och lika rösträtt. Det är om dessa händelser och några av de människor som bidrog till förändringen, denna lilla bok handlar. Som en påminnelse om vad som en gång krävdes för att försätta maktpolitiska berg, kanske som lärdom även för vår egen tid när många åter går hungriga. Håkan Blomqvist, historiker vid Södertörns högskola och författare till ett flertal böcker om arbetarrörelsens historia, presenterar boken som utkom på Hjalmarson Högberg bokförlag 2017.
11:00 Kaféet: Petra Mölstad – Vi har hägn
Petra Mölstad debuterade med diktsamlingen Införsel 2013. Två år senare kom boken Omloppstid i förlaget Trombones skriftserie ”Svavel” och nu i år den handtryckta diktsamlingen Vi har hägn på nystartade Anti förlag. Petras programpunkt gästas dessutom av Freke Räihä och Anna Jörgensdotter (se längre ner i programmet för detaljerade beskrivningar av dem) samt Martina Moliis-Mellberg! Den finlandssvenska poeten Martina Moliis-Mellberg debuterade 2015 med den prosalyriska sviten "A" (Schildts & Söderströms) som våren 2017 även utkom på Modernista. Hennes andra bok "7", utkommer under hösten 2017 (Schildts & Söderströms).
Petra Mölstad är också är aktuell i tre antologier: Om detta sjunger vi inte ensamma (ETC förlag), dock-ument anti-logi (Dockhaveri förlag) och Världens kortaste antologi (Trombone förlag).
12:00 Kaféet: Q&A med Tor och Jens från den anarkistiska podcasten Bilda Kedjor
12:00 Beauvoir: Agneta Thomasin Svensson – Alla röster, alla ljus
Eileen växer upp i Londons slum, bland ruckel och fallfärdiga skjul längs Themsen. Hon träffar den svenske sjömannen Hjalmar och flyttar till Göteborg - hamnstaden dit det kommer båtar från hela världen. En stad präglad av fattigdom och brutala klasskillnader. Medan Hjlmar och Eileen försöker skapa sig ett hem I Haga ekar stöveltrampen över Europa.Även i Sverige växer nazismen. Men överallt finns det människor som gör motstånd och står upp för människovärdet.
"Alla röster, alla ljus" berättar Göteborgs vänsterradikala historia ur ett gräsrotsperspektiv. Det är en roman om det glömda Göteborg. Om sjömännens, sömmerskornas, kommunisternas, judarnas och flyktingarnas stad.
Agneta Thomasin Svensson arbetar inom vården. Hon har tidigare gett ut "Den vita baracken" och medverkar i flera antologier.
13:00 Goldman: Kvinnofolkhögskolan om folkbildning
Kvinnofolkhögskolan med ett samtal om feminism, folkbilding och separata rum. Medverkar gör Berit Larsson, Agneta Wirén, Felicia Mulinari och Lena Bjurving.
14:00 Beauvoir: Anna Jörgensdotter och Hanna Wikman
Två författare och feminister från Sandviken och Kramfors, läser ur sina böcker och andra texter och pratar om sånt som ligger dem varmt om hjärtat eller som deras texter har gemensamt så som historia, kollektiv, antifascism, hopp och sorg.
Anna Jörgensdotter debuterade 2002 med romanen Pappa Pralin och har sedan dess utgivit både prosa, poesi och facklitteratur, senast romanen Drömmen om Ester. I september 2017 utkommer romanen Solidärer (Bonnier) som utspelar sig i Spanien och i Gävle mellan 1936-1939. Solidärer är en episk roman om krigets konsekvenser, kärlekens former och drömmen om en annan värld.
Hanna Wikman debuterade 2010 med vägromanen Lift och jobbar, förutom som författare, som skrivlärare och biblioteksassistent. Hennes kommande roman Härdar är en historia om syndikalistisk organisering i Vilhelminas skogar på trettiotalet, Spaniensolidaritet, längtan, passion och om att vara den som är kvar.
14:00 Goldman: Storming Heaven och militanta undersökningar
Steve Wrights bok ”Storming Heaven: Class Composition and Struggle in Italian Autonomist Marxism” (2002, Pluto Press) släpps i ny utgåva sensommaren 2017. Storming Heaven var den första heltäckande studien av italiensk autonom teori, från sitt ursprung i den anti-stalinistiska och arbetaristiska vänstern på 1950-talet till sin storhetstid tjugo år senare. Den italienska autonoma marxismen är en politisk tendens som på många sätt kan ses som en föregångare till dagens utomparlamentariska vänster. Anna och Martin presenterar boken för oss och pratar sedan om fenomenet militanta undersökningar.
15:00 Goldman: Skrivworkshop med Hanna & Sara Wikman (2h)
Spökstad, skitnödig, lurvig, akut. Är bara några av alla ord du kan använda dig av på skrivverkstad med Hanna och Sara Wikman, anarkister, författare och ledare för den här skrivstunden. Välkommen du som nästan aldrig skriver någonting eller du som skriver hela tiden! Alla välkomna, bara du känner ett sug efter att uttrycka dig i ord.
Vi förstår svenska och engelska och du kan skriva på vilket språk du vill. Men övningarna förklaras på svenska och engelska. Max 12 deltagare, ingen föranmälan.
15:00 Beauvoir: Freke Räihä - Illegalen
Freke Räihä, poet född 1978. Bosatt utanför Österlen. Dennes 15:e bok Illegalen är en skönlitteratur inifrån och utifrån en flykt genom ett Europa ingen vill vara i. Den följer en näktergal, en filosof och en läkare genom en kontinent där allt vatten är blod.
16:00 Beauvoir: Georgeta Baicu - Den ohörda historien
"Skriv rom tills dina fingrar blöder! Skriv om vårt folk. Skriv ner din historia. Utan en nedtecknad historia kommer vi inte ha något att lämna över till våra barn och barnbarn. Vår framtid hänger på det skrivna ordet." Genom att skriva om sina egna liv, eller sammanställa äldre släktingars berättelser, bidrar författarna i Den ohörda historien till spridning av en till stora delar okänd historia. Antologin är en del i projektet Romska och resandeberättelser i väst – ett projekt som Författarcentrum Väst startade 2014 i samarbete med romska och resandeaktörer i Västra Götaland. På plats för att presentera och läsa ur boken finns Georgeta Baicu, en av antologins medverkande.
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Utsikt från båten på flöden Themsen. London 🇬🇧 #london (em Tower Bridge) https://www.instagram.com/alexandrevolden/p/BwVEPdentPO/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=82lehmqkykoa
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A Sample Chapter
Craic. Like Banter.
I’m Jack Hewler, bard, rogue, and quickly becoming the greatest fool to ever pluck a string.
You would think certain excuses would exempt you from certain things, ‘I’m not a fighter. I’ve never left this city. I’m not a thief. I’m a fucking bard’ all of these, of course, fall on deaf ears.
I learnt from an early age that there are two types of conversations, one when you want to tell something, and one when you want something. And yes, before you ask, my mother was a whore.
The one I had today was one of the latter.
I won’t lie and say it started a normal day, it didn’t, I’m the kind of wastrel that doesn’t seem to have normal days. It started with me being beaten with my own lute in a puddle of my own making.
‘Looter!’
‘The word you���re looking for is bard, innkeeper, and if you would, please stop mishandling me with my instrument. Shall I play you a song? By the narrow streets we meet? The Last Prince? Gods help me just stop hitting me, it’s expensive!’
The innkeep-who-was-a-watchman gave me an indignant look ‘I’m a watchman ye simpleton, and you were seen rummaging through the Jeweller’s on Bartle Row, what do you have to say about that?’
I stood, brushing the indignity off my jerkin, and doing my best to ignore the cool wetness in my crotch. Sorry. ‘I am… Sincerely sorry sir. But you have me mistaken, I have no interest in jewellery and certainly none in wasting a watchman’s valuable time. I was in the Inn last night, you may have guessed. There are men who can vouch for me, I got into something of a drinking contest with a fisherman, his name was Joe. Or Joel… Perhaps James?’
The watchman was nonplussed ‘How old are ye, boy’
‘Jonath- Oh. Twenty, sir.’
I heard a jangle of what could only be chains in his back pocket
‘Fooourteen sir. I am fourteen years old and cannot be arrested by an officer of the watch thank you very much and now that you mention it I recall you beating me with a lute, terrible business that so what say you and I forget this eh?’
‘Fourteen?’
‘Fifteen in a week’
‘Where’s your father then, I’ll have a talk with him, see if we can’t get ye back to the barracks for some words’
‘Ah. Where is he indeed? The Gods only know. Mother told me he was the adventurous sort, perhaps called out to… ‘I took a look around for the first thing that inspired me ‘The sea,’ I gave a false wistfulness to my look ‘A man of action, or so I was led to believe’
‘Yer mother then’
Crestfallen, I embodied that in the moment ‘Themsen’s’
He gave a booming laugh ‘Well ‘mon then whoreson, let’s see yer mammy’.
. . .
I sat on the stool outside my mother’s room, separated by only a thin veil. I heard screams, wails and guttural whimpers. False, undoubtedly, but the poet in me believed some of them were real. Perhaps love was blossoming under this very roof as I wasted what may have been my last day a free man? Mostly though, I heard my mother’s voice, disappointed, pleading, and trying to pierce the steely demeanour of my captor.
‘Just a few questions then, and can I speak to my boy? I’ll clout him if you’ll let me.’
‘The sooner we get this done with the better, but aye, I’ll give ye a minute. Just bring him right out when yer finished alright?’
She did clout me. My mother was young, I suppose, but in her profession even the young were old. Past thirty she was near enough the mother of the brothel, still, she was pretty, and I was told by my bolder patrons that she saw enough coin coming her way. It didn’t make our lentils and porridge taste that much sweeter for knowing, I’ll admit.
She gave me a mournful look, grey eyes full of pity, disappointment, and yes, probably resentment. I was her one thing that she had to put her time in, to make all of this, some of it, any of it worth it in the slightest. And I had piss on my pants and a watchman outside.
‘Oh Jack, I love you son but you’re a bloody ejit. What happened?’
‘I had a bit too much to drink is all. I know I know I know I know, you don’t want me drinking but it was in good company see? Fisherman, good man, brings in shoal, that’s worth a fair bit aye? He said he’d be happy enough to take me on a fish- ‘
‘Trawl’
‘Trawl, aye, and he said I could play for some of the fishermen, trawlermen, whogivesashit mammy, and I’d be paid a coin or two for every pound of shoal I could bring in on top of the money I’d make for barding, singing, ah you know the business’
‘Jack’
‘Mammy’
‘Shoal isn’t a fish, it’s a collective for fish. I didn’t pay for that tutor, so you wouldn’t even know your fish from your fucking nouns, and I didn’t pay so you could waste your days strumming a lute for some trawlerman as he brings in something that’d be worth what? A hundred at the market? Hundred fifty in winter maybe split between five?’
‘Six with me, and Jonathan says two hundred, and he sails once a week, two days is all, I could still do some of the singing and all that in the taverns til’ I find something better here. But mammy, I’m trying. I’m the son of- well you know Lord Bartle isn’t like to let me squire for him or any of his pasty cunts-for-kids, and I dunno what else you want honestly. Fishing’s good. Honest, aye? I’m not going to be spending my days in the barracks if I’m doing honest work’
‘Honest work is for honest men Jack, and I’ve never met a bigger liar in my life’
‘Mam!’
‘Not a bad thing. All the good heroes tell a fib every once in a while, remember? You really ought to keep trying for the squire role, big man on top says he’s holding a melee, twelve to fifteen, whoever wins gets to squire for his eldest. Stick to that, boy. You’re strong, betcha’ Jonathan saw that when he said he’d like a hand, but don’t let yourself sink to a life like – like me Jack. You deserve better. Jack for the gods sakes, I deserve better. I’ll not eek another year. Stay out of trouble, hear me? Answer the man’s questions, get your stick and practice, if you don’t make the melee you can join fish and sing all you like, but try. Alright?’
There was no arguing her. She was right, and I knew it ‘Alright mammy’.
I rushed down the stairs as Themsen gave me a shout, didn’t hear him right but he was probably wishing me luck.
‘Run backwards through a field’a dicks ye fucking lecher of a whoremonger’. We were friends like that.
‘No, you prune of a ewe, change your bloody knickers’
‘Ah, right you are’
The Watchman’s voice came booming through the wooden entrance door, left ajar
‘Come out now, I’ve wasted enough time’
‘Run backwards through a field’a dicks ye fucking lecher of a watchman’ shouted one of the whores, errant in the lounge.
Funny kind of family you find, in a brothel.
. . .
The Watchman’s name was Darren, and we sat in a rather dour room. Wooden panels, single candle on a trestle-table, dark besides. Bars on the heavy wooden doors where they’d have put glass in richer districts with less thieves and murderers taking up residence.
Well, convicted ones, at least.
I wasn’t alone besides the watchman, there was a scribe who was meant to record everything I said, I asked him how he wrote fast enough, if there was any code or something, seemed fascinating is all, I said. He just shrugged and said he writes what he can and fills in the blanks later. Bit of a shit system if you’re asking me, but they weren’t as Darren reminded me, and I suppose the real justice, real codes were for proper scribes in proper courts and all that nonsense. This was probably the only watchman who could read.
‘Serjeant Darren Axewit interviewing a Jack Hewler as suspect for the looting of Howe’s Jeweller’s on Bartle Row on the fifth day of the Month of the Bear Twelve-Fourteen AE. Before we begin, Master Hewler, do you have any questions’
Your mouth gets you into trouble, child. True enough.
‘Nah—Meaning no, obviously’ I gave a weak chuckle ‘Don’t write that, the Nah bit, or the chuckle, mind, any of this, really. Keep the no. Sorry.’
‘Where were you last night, Hewler?
‘I was playing for the Shoal’s Rest Inn. I uh, played about ten songs, maybe twelve, I don’t really recall, but I was only paid for ten. Still, the audience liked me well enough, so I think I played a little longer than I should have. That kept me occupied for nine to around…’ A soft drumbeat I was giving with my fingertips was cut short by a sharp cough from Darren ‘Uh half ten probably. After that I was approached by a man, maybe thirty, bearded, brown hair. Said he was a fisherman. Liked my songs I guess. Offered to buy me a drink. Said yes. Drank a lot. More than I could handle. We talked a bit about a business venture. Wanted me to be a fisherman. Said yes. Tried to get home. Didn’t. Probably two or three in the morning I fell asleep in the gutter. I awoke to Serjeant Axewit here hitting me with a l-‘
‘Ignore that bit Mikken’
‘Course of course’ Mikken said in a sing-song voice.
I threw my hands up ‘Well. That’s my story then’.
Darren sighed ‘The one yer sticking with at least. Tell me, ever been to Bartle Row?’
‘Once or twice. I was asked to open for Ernest Claxon, you don’t know him, but he’s a pretty big bard from Muras, I was really quite honoured, it was after Lord Bartle hosted him, but he still played at the Penny Cross Tavern, they couldn’t find one and I happened to be in the area so…’
‘And why did ye happen to be in the area, Jack?’
‘Ah this was about three months back, mind. But I was in the area cause mam, that’s my mother, wanted me to try for squiring one of the Lord’s sons. It didn’t really work out as well as it could’ve but ah, the kids seemed to like me well enough to tell me to try for the melee next week so that’s probably what I’m up to next to tell the truth.’ I was sweating, rambling, and all in all a bit of a mess, but Darren seemed more bored than accusatory, he probably just wanted me gone.
‘Said you agreed to be a fisherman, now a squire? Thought you were a bard? Having trouble making ends meet, Jack? Maybe needed some jewels or gold to tide things over?’
Ah shit. They want to throw someone in a prison it seems. They may not even care if it’s you that did it.
Time for an appeal of the heart. Gods help me I hope the Watchman has one.
‘Ever had a mother, Serjeant?’
He looked at me for a few seconds, then, probably deciding to humour me, gave a nod.
‘Probably had plans for you, right? Be someone, do something, might have even pointed you to a few tradesmen, or wanted you to open a farm, get married have kids, all that nonsense, aye?’
So far so silent Jack, not too late to go back.
Cowards go back.
‘Well my mam has plans for me, become a squire, maybe a knight, maybe get myself a castle if I’m good enough at knocking ponces and nonces off their horses’
A stifled laugh from Mikken gave me courage to go on.
‘Well my ma has a good heart, but I’m near fifteen and I think I have a better idea of what I’m good for than she does, gods bless her. Might be I’m meant to be a bard, I’m a half decent singer, made a few maids cry if I’m being immodest. Honestly though, there’s no money in it, and maybe there is money in a castle and all, but do you look at me and say, stalwart defender of the realm, man of virtue, Knight? I don’t think so. So, fish, aye. Decent wage if you’re decent at it, so I don’t see why I can’t keep my options open.’
It was quiet but for Mikken’s scratching until Darren gave a sigh, an apology, and escorted me out the barracks that were oh-so-nearly my prison. Warning me, telling me to stay out of trouble, and reminding me he knew where I lived (I didn’t live in the brothel, but I didn’t have the heart or inclination to tell him) he turned me out into the bustling streets of Tuvanan. My home city.
Then I saw her.
. . .
Brown hair, brown eyes, swarthy skin, with an accent that sounded like she was being prodded to finish her sentence as quickly and with as much alacrity as possible. It excited the young and wearied the old. She was tall for a girl, about five feet and eight inches, a full two inches taller than me, to my more masculine shame, though she was nineteen. I had seen the woman about, asked after her. Sometimes she had stolen my shows, and sometimes I hers. She hadn’t been long in town, perhaps two months, and I knew next to nothing about her save for her name.
‘Hullo Caillen’
‘Master Hewler, I see you’ve been given the old talking to by our brave protectors.’
‘Ah yes, lovely people. Even quite handsome with just the one candle in the cell’
She gave a good-natured laugh. A nice one. Like spring. I don’t know, I only really write songs to get girls, I have the cart before the horse in that regard I suppose. Still, she was pretty, and I was happy to finally meet her proper.
‘Well, sir, walk with me, I have a show to make.’
‘So long as it’s not at the Shoal’s Rest’ I said half-jokingly. There were only so many inns in our small city, and so far, she had stolen three from me. One for eternity, for I’m a bad loser, and two for several nights of patronage.
‘Ah, you know it then!’ Bright smile knowing exactly what she was inflicting
‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me’
‘I am, actually. I’m playing Themsen’s tonight. That’s where your mother works, is it not?’
‘Ah. Yes. Word gets around, doesn’t it?’
The journey got awkward after that, pleasantries were exchanged though, and two bards walking through the streets cut a fine figure even when we weren’t on the better side of Tuvanan, so I felt I stood a little taller after my near emasculation by the hands of mother and law on that day.
We made our way through cobbled streets, crowds so thick you could scarce move, and even at the best of times the poorer alleys were hardly enough for three to walk abreast, and with stalls and crowds we slipped through, weaving sideways, ducking under crates and the less perceptive of our fellow citizens. By rights I should have been leading, it was my city, and I was the man, but Caillen was in front, still, she held my hand so that I wouldn’t lose her in the bustle. That was alright in the scheme of things.
After the better part of an hour navigating the city under the guidance of a non-native, we came upon Themsen’s, for that was closer than my own venue. I dusted off and prepared to make my goodbye.
‘Well Caillen, it was an interesting day, I’ll give you that, maybe we can talk again sometime.’
Ah the very embodiment of a gentleman. Cold, distant, and milquetoast. I’m sure she will cry into her harp for your embrace
She gave me a quizzical look, or maybe a mischievous one. I’m good at reading people, but not good at reading liars. And she was one. I knew that much.
‘You’re not coming in? I assumed you’d play here with me.’
‘Oh no, I’m flattered, but I have my own venue, If I don’t turn up they’ll geld me and make me serenade my manhood. I’m just really not up for that when I’m hungover’
‘Jack. A proposition, then.’
‘Mother told me to not take a stranger on a proposition.’
‘Fine woman. Still, listen. If you play with me tonight, listen, joke with me, have a bit of, what is it you say here, crack?’
‘Craic. Like banter.’
‘Craic. If we have a bit of craic we’ll arrange something of an agreement, or a plan, you have some nights, some venues, I’ll do the same. No stepping on each other’s toes. I’ll have more, obviously. I’m better.’
‘Obviously’ I said. But she wasn’t. The reason she kept stealing shows from me was because she had a pretty face that was nearly noble when the patrons were in their cups. At least I was hired for being good.
‘A deal?’ Her pale hand shot out of her cloak, sort of like how those swamp monsters came from the fens. Her dressing in moss-green didn’t help the image. But I shook it.
Like a loser.
We were given a resounding welcome, not only had the baby of the brothel returned, chainless, but he had brought back a woman. I’d assumed they were just happy to see me, but Themsen shouted that verbatim. Red as the tide after a battle at sea, I was, and Caillen noticed, giving me a pinch on the cheek and scurrying off to arrange the stage as I stood there, part in shock, part in embarrassment, and yet wholly glad at being a free man, ready to relax with the people I had grown up with.
They treat you like a child because you are one Jack. So be a child for them tonight. Be one for your mother.
I stormed upstairs and entered my mother’s room without even considering that she may have had a visitor. She did not. I picked her up and showered her with kisses. ‘I told you they couldn’t have me ma, I mean, I probably did, I’m the smart sort, you always said, talked them in circles so fast they nearly ran into each other, oh and that shite the magistrates say about codes for scribes, aye, just that, shite. Man just wrote whatever he felt like, not that fast even, might as well have got me to draw them a picture, could’ve drawn them something fancy like, it would’ve got them more entertainment, fuck knows maybe a conviction’
‘Shit boy would you calm yourself and let me go!’ She said, laughing the whole time ‘I’m glad son, I thought you were meant to be playing the shoal this evening though?’
‘Ah I’m playing with Caillen downstairs, nice enough lass, offered me a fair deal, better than the Shoal so I said Aye why not? After all it’s not every day your boy escapes the clutches of evil, and hey maybe you could have a cup of wine or two to celebrate’
‘I appreciate that, but my figure…’
‘Is sung of by the bards, me, specifically. Not in a weird way though, and ah, not advertising you or anything. Ah shite I don’t sing about you ma, but you’re pretty enough to have a cup while we sing and make merry for a few, aye? And hey I don’t mean to be a boor, but I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten since last night.’
She rested her hand on my cheek, an amused smile betraying the stern woman she tried to get back into when I laid her down. ‘I’ll see you fed Jack, but I can’t join you tonight. I have work’
She must’ve seen my face drop for she hugged me fiercely ‘Any other man I’d chase away but this is important son, alright? Can’t have the two of us skipping every time we dodge misfortune.’
I gave a weary smile back ‘We’d get no work done at all’.
. . .
By the time I had eaten, toasted bread, some red meat and butter in case you were wondering –
We weren’t
Caillen was about ready to play, so I drank a smidge of mead, to clear my throat you understand. I had no desire to drink til’ at least the dark ones came to drag us back to hell. But as soon as I took stage she took me aside ‘Most the songs I have are for one, so play second, and maybe some backing melodies, you know when they’re sang in bands?’ I gave a solemn nod ‘Cheer up boy, less work for you!’ and the merry bard took centre stage while I sat on a stool.
There’s something fitting about this you know. You reached too far and now you pay the price, second fiddle to the woman who steals coin from your pocket, food from your very mouth!
Have you ever had a voice in your head that wouldn’t quiet itself? Me neither.
I played, played well even, as she got into her eighth song she turned back to me and asked some of the patrons to put her hands together for her partner Jack Hewler. I got a smattering of applause from the patrons who weren’t too busy drinking, fondling, or gaping at the women, and of course Caillen. But still, I was given a raucous cheer from every whore in the building (Some even upstairs to my delight). It lessened the sting of the night.
Caillen for all her boasting, wasn’t all that skilled with a lute or voice. I had to lessen the intricacies of my melodies simply to save her from embarrassment. I’ll admit, I felt better for it, but it still angered me that I was losing business to her and she had the nerve to be worse than I was. Still, I played.
And played.
And played.
Is this our twelfth song? Is this why I don’t get the nights while Caillen does? And I still hadn’t sang. I have a few of what my old tutor Byleck called ‘complexes’ on me I’ll admit, but still, I turned away good coin to play here, it was becoming beyond uncouth.
Caillen’s voice was breathy after her last performance ‘And for our final song, because what better number to finish than thirteen’ Some soft laughter permeated the room ‘I would like to invite Master Jack Hewler to sing a song with me that comes from my home, but I think we all should know’.
Oh, I was wrong, she really does want to kill you.
This wasn’t good. I only really know local songs, only a few of the big ones on the continent, if she wanted to make a fool of me she was certainly putting the best foot forward.
‘You’re not there,
When I look for you
You’re hardly gone,
When I don’t.
There’s a man,
I mistook for you
Oh, gods I promised,
That I won’t’
Thank God, it’s By the narrow streets, a few words changed, but maybe it’s different where she comes from, I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, I’ll be
Sing
‘You can’t hide it,
I’m the first one
By the stars,
I’ll be the last.
I decided,
To trek under the sun
To retake,
The roads we passed’
And our voices joined for the chorus, prettily if I say so myself.
‘There’s no refuge,
No solace.
No Solitude,
And no peace.
So what time,
That is left to you,
Is best spent,
In the Narrow Streets’
That’s how I sang it, at least, and near every man and woman in Themsen’s. But Cuillen finished the last line different, drowned out by inebriated singing to a slow song about a broken husband going to a brothel. I’d have to ask her about her version.
But we finished with very respectable applause from everyone in the establishment, no mean feat considering it was after midnight and most were turning to bed and other more carnal vices. Still, Themsen offered to fix us a drink since we had played so well.
Cuillen, ever a warm smile, asked for ‘Just a small cup of wine, but not watered down if you don’t mind terribly’
‘And I’ll take the water you’d have put in her cup, best not to keep piling on old problems, eh?’
‘Right you are Master Hewler, right you are, get yourself a sit down so I can fuck off to bed, aye?’
And just like that, we were the last man and woman in the common room. We’d gotten about halfway through our drinks before I spoke to her.
‘Excellent as always Cuillen’
‘Sorry for shafting you with the performance’
‘Dunno what you mean’
‘You do, still it’s kind of you to say. You’re not a terrible singer yourself’
‘Careful my lady,’ I gave a mock bow from my booth ‘You’re edging closer to a compliment every day… About the song’
‘Noras Traithe. Old city of elves. Way up in the North, might’ve been held by Pherneius, some people think Ekreth’
‘Okay, gibberish’.
‘If you like. Maybe you should read a book’
‘Maybe you should tell me?’
‘It’s late, I don’t care enough, and there’s something more important’
‘More important than elves dead for a thousand years?’
‘Oh yes. Why do you think the watchman arrested you, Jack?’
Oh yes indeed. This is simply terrible news.
‘I don’t like the slant of this at all, Cuillen’
She leaned closer, smile on her face.
‘Because the person they were looking for was a bard, Jack. Lute slung over their shoulder, hood up, rummaging through the Jewellers. I even got a cloak to match the one you wore the night we first met. Shame you didn’t wear it.’
‘You got me arrested? Oh, gods is this the part you kill me for no witnesses? I don’t want to die in a brothel, at least take me to a church. Maybe a shitheap. Anywhere but here.’
Leaning back, smiling all the wider ‘Relax, you’re not going to be killed, at least not by me. I got you arrested because you’re innocent, and you can talk your way out of it. And I wanted to meet you, because I’m going to need you for what comes next.’
And just like that, Jack Hewler became a drop in a pond full of piss.
‘What… What does come next, exactly?’
Her playful voice was no hiding the rogue, but embracing it with full force, ‘Come now, Jack, don’t you want to know what I stole? Or rather, what I couldn’t. What we’re going to have to steal?’.
No Jack. Listen to me. No, no, no. You are meddling in things you don’t understand. No.
‘Yes’.
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