#unbroken chain
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jt1674 · 3 months ago
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krispyweiss · 3 months ago
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Archival “Unbroken Chain” Captures Phil Lesh & Friends at 2005 Apex
Despite more than 100 musicians passing through its revolving doors over a quarter-century of concerts, Phil Lesh & Friends were an “Unbroken Chain” anchored by their namesake former Grateful Dead bassist.
Released in wake of Lesh’s Oct. 25 death, an audience-shot video of the Oct. 9, 2005, lineup performing “Unbroken Chain” in New Jersey illustrates and soundtracks Lesh’s counterintuitive wisdom.
With Barry Sless on lead guitar, John Molo manning the kit and Mookie Siegel on keys, the band (with Larry Campbell and Chris Robinson playing electric and acoustic guitar, respectively) nails the “Chain”’s tricky tempo changes and polyrhythmic instrumental sections with the tightness of a seasoned group of players.
Lesh sings his composition passionately, while both holding down and pushing along the song with his inimitable style of bass playing. It serves as a reminder of the new ground Lesh continued to explore in his post-Dead career and stands as another reason to thank the folks who spent decades recording Lesh’s exploits so the rest of us may revel in them for decades more.
10/28/24
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deadheadland · 29 days ago
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VIDEO: Tribute to Phil Lesh | Unbroken Chain | Jason Crosby & Friends | 12/15/24 Sweetwater Music Hall
Unbroken Chain Jason Crosby and Friends Jason Crosby keyboards Dan Lebowitz guitar Steve Adams bass Ezra Lipp drums From Jason Crosby’s recent holiday show at the Sweetwater Music Hall. Unbroken Chain Lyrics: Bobby PetersenMusic: Phil Lesh Blue light rain, whoa, unbroken chainLooking for familiar faces in an empty window paneListening for the secret, searching for the soundBut I could only…
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the-ephemeral-ethereal · 4 months ago
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We drag, it is true, 'a lengthening chain' at each remove of our pilgrimage; but the chain is unbroken - we can trace it back link by link; and we feel that the last still grapples us to home.
from The Voyage by Washington Irving (1820)
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screenshot-thoughts · 2 years ago
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“generational privilege”
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ivan-fyodorovich-k · 8 days ago
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I can’t fully articulate this thought yet but there is something striking as someone who has been clinically depressed my whole life to watch this slow and yet comprehensive generational shift where people roughly my age and older maintain that life is worth living and people about five or more years younger than I am believe and act as though nobody’s life is worth living and in fact the species itself should die en masse
They still get mad at murder, war, and genocide, at least when the United State does it, so it’s not entirely coherent, but they don’t want to live and don’t have children as a result
Perhaps on some macro level we can’t quite perceive the planet did hit a tipping point and nature has gone through the species and touched a substantial portion of the population with the hand of death, denying them reproduction through nihilism, and then once those genetic cul de sacs age out of the gene pool the survivors will enjoy life again. Maybe this is natural selection?
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respheal · 14 days ago
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WIP Wednesday!
Link was on the surface. That in itself wasn’t an issue—he had spent most of the last three years on the surface. He had even been on the surface in the past, traveling through the Gate of Time and timeshift zones several times during his adventure. The problem was that he was in the future. He must be, for these other men—other Links—to know of the Master Sword. He had forged her, after all. The Master Sword was the other problem. First, she was meant to sleep in Hylia’s temple for the rest of his life. Second, she was acting...strange. Link had the sword wrapped in his sailcloth, held tight in his arms as their group passed through the town’s gates. The man Sailor had coined Rings led the way confidently, as if he knew the area. He didn’t, or so he claimed when Link asked, but he did know how to travel in foreign lands. His method seemed to be acting like he belonged there, without an ounce of hesitation in asking the locals for help and direction. Link imagined it would be effective if it weren’t for the way the villagers nervously eyed the group’s weapons—Sailor’s and Champion’s sheathed swords. It was probably a good thing he had Fi wrapped up. In any case, Rings managed to locate an inn and discover the town’s name: Ruto. The mountain they had descended was indeed Death Mountain, with Ruto-on-the-River acting as the sole land-based gateway between Northern and Southern Hyrule. That was another clue he was in the future. At the council’s last meeting, the topic came up regarding a name for their surface settlement, and Link was certain someone proposed the name “Hyrule”—the land Hylia ruled. What would happen if, when he returned home, he nixed that proposal? He was going to have a headache.
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bardsansa · 1 year ago
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alrighty. doing a sisters series, both main series and f&b (in two chunks, i’m only one woman). so far the list is
sansa and arya, wynafryd and wylla, ashara and allyria, bethany and barbrey, catelyn and lysa, irri and jhiqui, val and dalla, the sand snakes, the mormont sisters, and the hightower sisters for main asoiaf. pls tell me if i’m missing anyone
for f&b, visenya and rhaenys, rhaena alysanne and jocelyn, alyssa maegelle and daella, saera viserra and gael, rhaenyra and helaena, baela and rhaena, maidenvault gals, serena and sansa stark, bethany and barba bracken, mya and gwenys rivers, laena jocelyn and joy penrose w jeyne waters, daella and rhae, and shaera and rhaelle. please tell me again if i should add anyone, esp non-targ women!
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ciaospiriti · 1 year ago
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yardsards · 2 years ago
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taz graduation episode 23 summary:
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notedchampagne · 2 years ago
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im not feeling up for redrawing the pinoy davekat this year but i also dont like it whenever i have gaps in yearly redraws. its like a longterm little treat for me
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torahtot · 1 year ago
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[ID: The "are you going to sleep" meme, a four-panel comic between a brain and a girl in bed. In panel one, the brain is saying: "hey, you goin' to sleep?" In panel two, the girl's eyes are closed as she frowns and says: "Yes, now shut up." In panel three, the brain says: "What if they missed or miscounted a year of shmitah once and now the whole cycle is messed up." In panel four, the room has grown dramatically darker, and the girl's eyes have snapped wide open. End ID]
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krispyweiss · 3 months ago
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Grateful Dead are 2025 MusiCares Persons of the Year
- “That’s pretty far out. And extraordinary,” Bill Kreutzmann says
Grateful Dead are the 2025 MusiCares persons of the year.
The late Jerry Garcia and living Dead men Mickey Hart, Bill Kreutzmann, Phil Lesh and Bob Weir will receive the honor Jan. 31 in Los Angeles with a tribute concert featuring “renowned musicians and other artists,” under the musical direction of Weir’s Wolf Bro Don Was.
“Their legacy transcends music, having built a community of fans and collaborators that embody the spirit of connection and support, something that is deeply aligned with MusiCares’ mission,” executive director Laura Segura said in a statement that mentioned the Dead’s Rex Foundation, Lesh’s Unbroken Chain Foundation, Kreutzmann’s ocean-conservation efforts, Hart’s interest in music therapy and brain health and Weir’s advocacy in defeating poverty and addressing climate change.
“As our ol’ pal, Jerry, used to say, ‘You get some, you give some back,’ a tremendously effective way to share those benefits,” the four said in a statement.
Kreutzmann views the MusiCares honor as a continuation of the Dead’s long strange trip that began in 1965.
“That’s pretty far out,” he said in a statement. “And extraordinary.”
On rhetoric cusp of its 60th anniversary, the band is also slated to revived Kennedy Center honors in December 2024.
10/23/24
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judasisgayriot · 1 year ago
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Ouughhhh my Clandestine shirts arrived! I’m in the UK so I wasn’t expecting to get them so fast. The Magic of Fate slaps SO hard. Thanks Pete 🥰
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ottertooferswriting · 1 year ago
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Unbroken Chain's rewrite Teaser.
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One of my first fandoms, and first fanfictions posted to AO3 all the way back in 2014 was a ThorinxFem Bilbo hobbit fic. I'm rewriting it. Lol I highly doubt those who may have read it in the past will find it here but to the new readers hello!
I have currently rewritten 4 of 10 chapters, which are all posted on my Patreon, which is available for a single doubloon a month for early access to fics. (currently BG3 and Hobbit content mostly) I won't be posting the rewrite to AO3 until its completely done.
Relationship: ThorinxFem Bilbo
Wordcount: roughly 900
Tags: Slavery, Angst, Slowburn, Fem Bilbo, BAMFBilbo.
Summary: Bilba Baggins is living in bag end a few years before the quest for Erebor is due to begin, when her cousin Lobelia buys a dwarf from the slave traders in Buckland and brings him home.
For a few weeks there’s just idle chatter about it, but then one day after the initial talk and their first meeting, Bilba sees the dwarf again after the time spent in her relatives care.
Overcome at the cruelty of her cousin and the state the dwarf is in, she rescues the slave from Lobelia and takes him home to Bag End with her to nurse him back to health; not knowing the adventure she has welcomed to her doorstep through her act of kindness.
Ch1 teaser below.
Whisper’s about Lobelia Sackville-Baggins' latest blatant flaunt of her family's newfound wealth found its way to Bilba’s ears within a day of her purchase. Her cousin was always finding new and exotic or fanciful items to bring home and gloat about over tea with the neighbors and Bilba was sure it would be some time before she received an invitation. As Lobelia’s most despised family member, she would be the last to see her ‘exciting’ new treasure as a slight to her social status. 
Her cousin tired of the new things quickly and ended up selling or tossing them away. Though not before the snooty hobbitess had a chance to show it off to everyone that had an ounce of social clout within the boundaries of the Shire. This would not be anything to fuss over with a typical purchase of embroidered hats decorated with dyed feathers; or engraved silverware that was obviously meant to outshine the set that had been passed down through the Baggin’s hands for generations. However, this was not a typical bauble. 
Bilba did not care overmuch about social niceties or any such bothersome details when it came to the Sackville-Baggins. She was a direct Baggins by her father’s blood, not one by name alone through marriage. She had more important things to worry about than being high on the ‘invite to tea’ list of one particular lady of the Shire. 
Though it was not only polite to accept an invitation to tea, in this particular instance the hobbitess had been plagued by an uncomfortable pull in her gut that had not left her alone since the news first circulated throughout the gossip circles. She found herself awaiting the invitation with something approaching foreboding. A niggling in the back of her mind that had grown into a whisper that not all was well. It was an unsettling realization to the Baggin’s heir to find her ‘prickle’ that had awoken during the Great Winter when wolves had come across the frozen river to feast on Hobbit flesh pressing on her heart to check on her kin’s escapade. 
Nearly two weeks passed before Bilba found herself seated in an overstuffed chair in the modestly sized but increasingly well furnished living room of the Sackville-Baggins smial. Sipping tea that had purposefully gone lukewarm, nibbling three day old biscuits and making small talk while hardly listening to what her cousin was saying was out of place for one of her infrequent visits in only one aspect. She was usually quite on top of parsing out the hidden meaning and subtle barbs laced into Lobelia’s speeches. One too many times the hobbitess had tried to twist words and meanings to get something she wanted. 
It was rather like a standoff with a particularly nasty goose. One wrong move and you’d find yourself with a fresh bruise and only some idea of how things went sour. Bilba could hardly concentrate. Her chest was aching, her fingers tingling, her ear tips twitching. There was something going on that was far above the usual petty cruelty her cousin was known for and the longer the other hobbit drug out the game she liked to play the worse it became. Bilba was on the verge of snapping at the woman to just come out with whatever she had been brought to see when the infuriating hobbitess finally said something noteworthy. 
Lobelia had an unbearably smug look on her face. The expression sent a thrill of nervous energy through Bilba’s body as she took in the twist of the woman’s shapely lips and the calculatingly detached gleam in her eyes. That look never boded well for whom it was directed. When her cousin picked up a small brass bell and shook it as a summons, the first reaction that Bilba could muster was disbelief. That feeling swiftly gave way to dawning horror as the rasp of cheap cloth and the clink of metal rubbing against itself fell on her sensitive hearing. 
Broad shoulders pulled into a slight but unnatural hunch due to the configuration of the chains on his wrists and ankles. Long dark hair that was in desperate need of a wash and combing obscured most of the males face. Ratty, threadbare clothing that was made out of what looked to be old sack cloth strained in some places on the dirty frame and hung loose in others. As her cousin’s purchase made his way into the living room; it was all Bilba could do to stop the gasp of stunned outrage from escaping her throat. 
The ‘treasure’ that her cousin had brought home was not a pretty knick knack or a new stitching of lace, but a person. A dwarf to be precise. Tall for his kind, gaunt and worse for wear in appearance. The face of the male was down turned in subjugation and covered with near matted locks as his only feasible form of shield. Despite the attempt to hide, Bilba could just make out the line of a proud nose, strong jaw framed in a close cropped dark beard and thick brows pulled down in a furrow of displeasure. His cheeks were sunken from lack of good food and an all over air of neglect seemed to hang about the male. He struck a rather pitiful figure standing there waiting to be addressed by the hobbitess that had bought him from who knew where. And yet. 
 Bilba could not take her eyes away. Something was hiding, under the dirt and dried blood. There was a quality about the dwarf before her that struck the hobbitess as regal.
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neganisacat · 2 years ago
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