#vaulted cecilings

[cloudsofbluesmoke]

Living Room in Seattle Large tuscan open concept medium tone wood floor and brown floor living room photo with a tile fireplace, a standard fireplace, no tv and beige walls

[amplifyme]

Oh, now... see what I've done to myself? Circling the drain, here. Diving into the dark.

[smallmediumproblems]

Propaganda under the cut

Why isn't John/David/Cecil/Obituary Writer/etc here?

I'm specifically excluding narrators who are also primary characters in the story. There are a lot of really good unreliable main character POVs, and some that are very, very popular. There are also a LOT of found footage / "documentary" shows, so the pool of "main character who is technically also the narrator" is monstrously large. This is for narrators who have things to say about the story but are moderately to severely removed from it. You'll notice I've also excluded the Documentarian from The White Vault, because by the time she's commenting on the story, she's also a main character.

Madeleine can stay because she's very polite.

Madeleine the mouse

Madeleine doesn't exactly serve a narrative so much as she plates and seasons it before bringing it out. Part plot device, part confidante, and all bohemian authoress. But please, consider the other candidates long and hard before you vote. She's not really too unreliable, she's just incredibly biased.

The Voice of HartLife

You have to be a special kind of unreliable for one of your characters to break down the fourth wall into your recording studio to kick the shit out of you.

The Historian

*Gesturing at a lithograph of Eisen and Telesphore making out sloppy style* "Truly, it is tragic that the men of our generation have lost such deep platonic bonds as are depicted here. So secure were they in their brotherhood that our contemporary idea of friendship fails to-"

The Narrator

No, not Leon. The other guy. I can't possibly describe what his Whole Deal is without spoiling a major plot twist of the show, but guys. He killed Matt Damon, guys. He killed Matt Damon while trying to murder dozens of other people at the same time. (Hundreds? I don't know how trains work.)

Dubrach

Yes, I know it's not really confirmed. That's what unreliable narration is all about. But what could be more reliable than the literal word of god on the puny machinations of his flock? :) :) :) Also he's voiced by Alisdair Stuart, our dad.

The Malevolent Patreon Hastur

...is specifically not included, because a) people are going to think I'm talking about John, and b) brand recognition is going to skew the whole thing, as if Madeleine isn't going to sweep for that very reason. But I'm mentioning him here because of the time he made people so angry that the actual real live writer had to come out and remind them that this is a fictional character. iykyk.

[ghoul-foolery]

Dirty Windows | 21 | Nora x Hancock

A Fallout 4 Soulmate AU

//

Fic Summary:

Hancock never thought he would find his soulmate. Once a common occurrence, soulmates turned into a bit of a rarity after the bombs dropped. It was to be expected when there was an influx of people getting shot in the face on a daily basis. So when Hancock discovered that he had a soulmate he was ecstatic; all of the people in the Commonwealth, and he was one of the lucky few.

Too bad his soulmate didn't want anything to do with him.

When Nora thought for sure she was going to die too, the pain stopped – and then there was nothing. Nothing but the emptiness. Nothing but the grief. Half of her soul was suddenly gone forever. She was dropped in the middle of the ocean, drifting among the waves with no land in sight. Then just as suddenly she had been cast adrift, she found land. The hole was filled the moment it had been created. As she gripped Nate’s vault suit and begged him to open his eyes, Nora found herself battling with the horrifying realization that she had another soulmate; that some stranger had taken Nate's place.

//

[ 1 ] <- [ 16 ] [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] - [ 22 ]

//

The day had been spent drifting in and out of various meetings. He met with a few members of the Neighborhood Watch and Fahrenheit, discussing the skin-trader known as Cecil. Unfortunately, the guy was an unknown is his circle of trusted people. None of his guys had heard of him, and neither had Fahrenheit. It put a bit of a damper on his mood - and his day had started so well. There was no sense in sending out more people to wander aimlessly to find the asshole, and he accepted the fact that he was going to end up coughing up caps to get any information. The majority of the crew left, and Fahrenheit discussed their poor hostage, with his maybe-dead family, and his missing fingers. Outside of being a bit jumpy, the guy was doing just fine. He wanted to leave Goodneighbor, but he remained compliant. There was no need to threaten the guy, he was already scared out of his wits, and he seemed more than willing to stay and wait for word on his family.

"His family is fine. No signs of Bobbi, though," Fahrenheit droned as she read from a scrap of paper. Once finished she tossed it to the coffee table. Hancock snagged the note and frowned at the writing.

"I hate that fucking bitch," he said bitterly, crumpling the note in his hand, then tossing it to the side.

The next order of business was with a couple of trading caravans that occasionally made their way through the area. Occasionally, being the functioning word. The schedule was unreliable at best, and the traders claimed it was due to the mutants in the area. They weren't going to risk their lives trying to get to Goodneighbor if the road proved too hazardous. He wanted to tell them to stop being so damn cheap, and hire some help that was actually worth a damn, but that was none of his business. He knew a guy that could sit on a roof and take potshots at mutants all damn day. He promised the traders that he would get the mutant problem resolved, so long as they made a promise to make the effort of following a schedule. Goodneighbor wasn't self-sustaining, unfortunately. There was too much asphalt for any sort of gardening, and they needed produce, and meat, and Daisy relied on the traders to shuffle her stock. So did K-L-E0. Goodneighbor needed the trading caravans to properly function, and he would do what he needed to keep things running. MacCready owed him one, anyway.

Hancock made it a point to go and visit his hostage, the crumpled note in his hand. The poor smoothskin was awfully skittish when Hancock had entered his room - enough so, that the guy tucked himself into the corner of the room, hiding his hand behind his back. Hancock informed him about his family, tossing the note across the room at him. It bounced off of his chest, then dropped to the ground. Though Hancock wouldn't apologize for removing the guy's digits - Hancock had warned him, after all - he did want to clear the air a bit.

"Easy, brother. You stabbed me. You got what was comin' to ya. If you woulda come to me, and gave me the skinny on the mess you were in, I woulda been more than happy to help. In fact, I got my guys bringin' yer family here right now."

Skittishness turned into bewildered and hesitant joy. Hancock left on the high note, and eventually made his way to Third Rail to talk with MacCready. That was the day, wandering around and talking. One could say too much talking, and not enough drinking. He had been half-assing his duties, though, and it was high time that he got some shit done.

It was early in the evening when Nora whispered his name. Her voice barely making it over the noise of his footsteps as he climbed the stairs of Third Rail. He had just finished eating, and he would have typically settled on one of the couches and popped some mentats or a hit of jet, but he was fresh out. He opted to make a run to his office. That place was always fully stocked.

Hancock stopped on the stairs, gazing in front of him as the image of a plain white pill filled his vision. There was thunder in the background, rain, and wind, but she had asked him about the pill. There was no question in his mind as to what it was. He knew his drugs better than any pharmacist did. The soft sigh of relief that Nora released made him curious, and he watched as she tossed the pill back. He felt the pill hit the back of his own throat.

For just a moment, he entertained the possibility of being high through his Nora, and vice versa, but that train of thought exploded when another ghoul swam into his vision, offering an old threadbare towel that Nora used to dry herself off.

The jealousy was instantaneous. Even while he tried to convince himself that he was being absolutely ridiculous - he had just told himself the night before that Nora wasn't ready for a relationship, and here he was getting jealous about another ghoul - but that did nothing to quell his anger.

Get yer own smoothskin, he wanted to say. This one is mine.

He stomped his way up the rest of the stairs, ignoring Ham's curious gaze as he made his way to his office for a bit of privacy. He didn't have to say anything to get Nora to sequester herself from the group she found herself with. After popping the pill, and getting her things situated in her designated sleeping area, she tucked herself into a quiet corner.

"Will you calm down, please?"

"Calm down? Nora, sweets, yer in another radstorm, accepting pills from strangers," he growled, letting the door to State House slam behind him. "What do you think yer doing?"

"I was talking about how jealous you were. Over nothing, I might add." Well, she certainly didn't skirt around things. The woman dove straight into the root of the problem, and Hancock didn't know whether to be irritated or impressed. "And it's not exactly like I know what the weather is going to be, John. I can't just sit around because it might rain.”

"If you'd just get yer ass down here, I wouldn't be such a worry wart, ya know," he drawled, trying to alleviate some of the tension that had built between them. "Or you can at least tell me where you are. Don't mean t'sound like a broken record, but I can come to you."

"John-"

"Hey, lady," it was a rough voice that called to her, feminine but ghoulish. "Wiseman wanted to know if you were hungry. We are dishing supper."

Nora's gaze shifted, and he caught sight of the lady ghoul who spoke. She was shapely for a ghoul, sporting a head of short cropped hair.

"Oh, no thank you. I don't want to impose.."

"I'll tell him to make enough for one more. I'll come get you when it's finished," the ghoullette made a show of smiling, winking, and then she turned and left with a rather sensuous swish of her hips.

"So you aren't jealous when it's a woman who is actually hitting on me," she drawled.

"Mad? Shit, I'd watch that..."

Nora made no comment, but he could feel the barest hint of her amusement. His irritation eased, but he still couldn't understand why she wouldn't let him help her. It wasn't like he was going to throw himself at her the second he saw her. He could be respectful and understanding of her situation. He wouldn't pressure her into anything, he could help if she would only just let him.

"Where are you?"

"John, please..."

His fingers squeezed at the bridge of his nose, eyes closing tightly. "I won't come and get you, I will stay away so you can figure yourself out. Just tell me where you fucking are in case something happens! Do you know how worried I was when you had rad sickness? You were pukin' in the middle of the street, Nora. What if someone found you-"

"No one did-"

"But someone could have, Nora! Now yer out accepting pills from fucking strangers. You can't be so trusting-"

"That's why I called you, John."

"Yeah, but when would you have said somethin' about the shitstorm you were in, huh?"

"There wouldn't have been anything you could do. I wouldn't want to worry you about-"

"Don't want to worry me? Then come home, dammit! I worry about you every second you aren't fucking here, don't you get that?"

There was a pause between them, and he reached across their bond to feel her. She was upset, but he could tell she wasn’t upset with him specifically. Maybe his words struck a chord. Finally. They had talked the previous night, getting to know one another, but every attempt he had made to convince her that she should let him help were dashed or ignored.

Hancock watched as Nora's gaze shifted, and he saw her Pip-Boy. He watched, transfixed, as her delicate fingers worked over the device. She cranked a couple of knobs with her thumb, sifting through screens of notes, and then there was a map. There were a couple of existing icons, scattered across the upper portion of the graphic.

She jabbed at one of the icons with her index finger. "That's the vault. This is Sanctuary - where Preston is." Hancock scrambled to hunt down a piece of paper and a pencil as fast as he could. Thankfully, he had made it to his office, and there were plenty of supplies laying around. He would commit this to memory. If she was giving him information he had been practically begging for, he was going to remember every detail. "The truck stop I was staying at. This is the Starlight drive-in. That's where I was last night." another dial was tweaked, the map shifted and zoomed in. He watched as she took the necessary steps to create a new icon.

Hancock marveled at the detail on the map. He had seen some rough sketches of the area before, and there had been some maps that existed from before the bombs, but the device even gave an indication of where she was in relation to these landmarks. That Pip-Boy was one hell of a tool to have.

"And this is where I am now."

"Thank you, sweets. Really." He scribbled down the location, roughly sketching out the shape of the map, and putting a marker on her general location. He jotted down the coordinance too.

"Want to know how many caps I have, too?" it was her turn to be irritated, it seemed.

"Can we not argue again, please? You can't blame me for worrying."

She seemed to deflate, idly flipping through her Pip-Boy now. "I have 103 caps," she grumbled half-heartedly.

"Whoa there, money bags," Hancock gently teased. "I might let you buy me dinner and a drink with that sort'a money."

"I'm sorry. Things were going alright today, and it all just fell apart with the storm. I'm glad Wiseman saw me, I don't know what would have happened, otherwise."

He managed to find his stash of grape mentats. He slipped one of the chalky tablets under his tongue. The tin was tucked into his pocket as he left his office and went to his room.

"Look at me," he rasped as he stopped in front of the mirror. He stepped in close, so she could look him in the eye whenever she decided to join him. "Promise me that you'll watch yourself with these people."

"I prom-"

"Hey, smoothskin! Dinner is ready!" 

Nora started to get to her feet, leaving her things tucked in the corner.

"Nora."

She grasped one of her hands, squeezing tightly - and he felt it, the softness of her skin touching him, grasping. Hancock's gaze dropped to his hands, absolutely dumbfounded that he couldn't see anything touching him - but he could feel it, as if she was there in person. The soft pad of one of her fingers stroked over the back of his hand, and he closed his eyes to revel in the feeling.

"I promise."

//

Tag List: @takottai / @a-little-pebbl  / @yamatra

[thousand-winters]

"Tamika: Maybe this one? Cecil: Listeners if you’re hearing this, then humanity is surely finished, but instead of a tearful goodbye, I’d like to offer a warm hello to our new alien rulers, who are surely benevolent and- Tamika: Nope, that’s Cecil’s pre-recorded vault of doomsday broadcasts."

LMAO, CECIL

[wrongcaitlyn]

SO AMERICAN AU AHHHHHH ❤❤❤

another little excerpt here :))

(this hasn't been beta read yet if there are any mistakes that's all on meee and there probably are lmao)

“You know what you need?” Cecil tells him as soon as he walks into the studio. “A break from dating.”

Will snorts. He’s got that now, even if he hadn’t really wanted it in the first place.

“Cecil’s right, for once,�� Lou Ellen nods, taking her seat by the keyboard. “Don’t worry about finding your true love for once. It’ll come when you’re ready!”

“Or it won’t,” Cecil adds.

“Or it won’t,” Lou Ellen agrees.

Will shakes his head, pulling a guitar into his lap and strumming absently. He never really goes into the studio with something planned—usually his inspiration is struck by something that Lou Ellen or Cecil suggests, and then it unravels from there—but this time, he feels particularly unprepared. “Thanks,” he says sarcastically. 

“So, have you written anything in the past few weeks?”

Will winces. The lack of motivation to write isn’t necessarily a new problem. He had returned from his tour in February. Lester, though acting pretty laidback and carefree about it, has said that for planning, a single should be ready by the end of June. The rest of the album should be finished by late August, giving the label enough time to look over it and polish it and prepare for release.

Of course, Lester told him this with the added on, but really, take your time, no pressure!

Will still can’t really tell if his manager had been sincere about that.

Either way, they’ve got a few drafts for songs in the vault. But it’s not much. It’s not enough, at the very least. And it’s currently mid-May, which leaves him with a little over a month to get a song he likes enough to be the lead single written and recorded.

He’s about to tell them, no, he really hasn’t, but he decides to at least check his phone. Honestly, the journal that he keeps is just for aesthetics, because he never remembers to write stuff down in there in the first place, and he also really appreciates his phone’s autocorrect. Plus, he has to admit that though he never actually did go to college for pre-med, his friends all claim that he’s got the doctor’s handwriting down to a tea.

There’s a series of notes of anything and everything—mainly stuff that he can’t even comprehend or half-started grocery lists that he forgot to look back to. He scrolls through them all, finding his most recent note that actually sounds like something dated May 3rd. 

It looks like a love song. That can’t be right. He may have been dumped abruptly, but he has to admit that it was to no one’s surprise that that relationship didn’t last. Not that Will hadn’t written love songs—which he had—but certainly not two weeks before it ended.

What had happened May 3rd? He had been… well, the Met Gala had been the day before, so he assumes that this was after—

The angel. Of course he had ended up writing a song about him, likely on the drive home, when he had gotten away from the crowds of people and had a few drinks and probably forgotten why exactly that conversation hadn’t led into anything more.

He huffs, scanning over the lyrics, his thumb hovering over the delete button, because Will may not have had the best track record with relationships, but he wasn’t a cheater.

Then again, this song is easily the best thing he’s written in months. “I wrote something,” he tells Lou Ellen, selecting the text and copying it to send it to their groupchat. “You tell me if it’s worth anything.”

[laresearchette]

Sunday, January 12, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: ROGUE HEROES (MGM +)

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: ALL CREATURES GREAT AND SMALL (PBS Feed) MISS SCARLET (PBS Feed)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA MY INTERNSHIP IN CANADA SAS ROGUE HEROES (Season 2) SUR LE RYTHME SUR LE SEUIL

2025 IIHF U18 WOMEN'S HOCKEY (TSN3/TSN5) 8:00am: Bronze Medal - TBD vs. TBD (TSN5) 12:00pm: Gold Medal - TBD vs. TBD

PWHL HOCKEY (TSN3) 12:00pm: Sceptres vs. Sirens (TSN3) 3:00pm: Victoire vs. Frost

NFL FOOTBALL (TSN/TSN4) 1:00pm: Wild Card - Broncos vs. Bills (TSN/TSN4) 4:30pm: Wild Card - Packers vs. Eagles (TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 8:15pm: Wild Card - Commanders vs. Buccaneers

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 3:00pm: Kraken vs. Red Wings (SN1) 5:00pm: Lightning vs. Penguins (TSN5) 5:00pm: Stars vs. Sens (SN) 8:00pm: Wild vs. Knights

NBA BASKETBALL (TSN2) 3:00pm: Nuggets vs. Mavericks (SN1) 9:00pm: Hornets vs. Suns

ERIC STAAL JERSEY RETIREMENT CEREMONY (SN Now) 3:30pm

2025 AUSTRALIAN OPEN TENNIS (TSN2/TSN3) 7:00pm: Early Round Coverage Day #2

THE GREAT BRITISH BAKING SHOW (CBC) 7:00pm: It's Biscuit Week and the bakers make a marshmallow-based signature challenge, a custard classic in the technical; in an illusion-themed showstopper, the bakers make their favorite meal out of biscuits.

CRIME BEAT (Global) 7:00pm: 'Die Like the Rest' Part 1: A Winnipeg teenager is found savagely attacked; investigators arrest a B.C. man who was visiting; years later, another slaying of a teenage girl gives fresh light to old evidence that could help convict a killer.

FAMILY LAW (Global) 8:00pm: When a biased judge rules against Daniel's petition to have a scam marriage annulled, Abby uses Cecil as bait to trap the romance fraudster.

WARDENS OF THE NORTH (CTV Wild) 8:00pm: A warden checks on a hunter he suspects may be illegally baiting deer; a warden tracks down hunters using blinds on state land and finds they aren't quite abiding by the law; wardens enforce the law with anglers on the Detroit River.

SKYMED (CBC) 9:00pm: As the crew struggles to say a difficult goodbye to a fallen team member, the loss forces each of them to question themselves in different ways.

FOOD, INC. 2 (documentary) 9:00pm: Revisiting the food system and its improvements, focusing on innovative farmers and food producers working toward a healthier future.

WHEN CALLS THE HEART (Super Channel Heart & Home) 9:00pm: When the comic book craze sweeps Hope Valley, Elizabeth teaches her students through nature; Rosemary launches a radio show and Lucas meets a new political player.

THE CURSE OF OAK ISLAND (History Channel Canada) 10:00pm: After more than a dozen years of searching, the team may have discovered the legendary Chappell Vault.

FORENSIC FACTOR (Oxygen Canada) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A mother of three goes missing the day before Mother's Day; there is no shortage of suspects, but only forensic evidence and an old school detective's trick can untangle what truly happened to Joleen Cummings.

[sims-realty]

welcome to desert springs, the newest and most premiere lot in beautiful oasis springs. with its iconic butterfly roof and exquisite landscaping, the exterior of the home immediately catches your eye. enjoy the incredible mature cactus and succulent garden in the front yard that provides a natural barrier between your expansive front porch and pool entertainment area, with vintage pink terracotta tiles salvaged from a local home original to the area prior to its demolition on a lot nearby. a landscaped palm oasis welcomes you to the expansive backyard that separates the main house from the greenhouse. because of its humidity control, the greenhouse makes an excellent home for all of your exotic plants and gardening hobbies while also providing space for an office or art studio.

just inside the custom glass doors and windows, you'll be blown away by the custom built-in cabinet that separates the curated entryway (lit by a a truly unique - confirmed one-of-a-kind - chandelier) from the large living room designed for gatherings. the 360-degree fireplace anchors the living room and provides heat to the entire house on those chilly 55-degree desert evenings. custom accordion glass doors separate the living room and kitchen that also features the salvaged pink terracotta tiles. a handmade dining table gifted to the home's original owner by the artist natsukashii herself comes with the home and is highlighted by the second of the home's bespoke lighting fixtures. one thing this home doesn't lack is natural sunlight. from your kitchen enjoy the most beautiful view of your backyard oasis, filled with lavender bushes, cacti and palm trees.

this home features two bedrooms and one bathroom, recently remodeled. the guest bedroom features a cozy sitting area perfect for the bookworm in your family, without lacking adequate closet space. custom bed and shelving seamlessly flow together, making this bedroom an aesthetic retreat.

when you walk through the door adjacent to the guest bedroom, you'll take in the walk-through closet which opens to an expansive primary bedroom featuring a lounge area, natsukashii custom bed and living shelving. the primary bed looks out onto the back patio and a break in the sleek concrete and wood fence surrounding the property allows for uninterrupted south-facing mountain views. living shelving moves out from the primary bedroom onto the patio as well, ensuring that you're never far from green in this home.

desert springs is open for showings now, but don't delay because this gem won't be on the market for long. make this home your oasis in oasis springs.

cc used:

SYB: Fency, Astrid, Nathalie, Dreamy, Julie, Maya, Natsukashii, Laundry, Millenial, Pauline, Sabine, Manon, Diane, Cecile, Nothing to Wear, Agnes, Brigitte, Sophie, Elodie, Rosalie, Oceane, How About Tea

SIMcredible: Advent Calendar 2022, Vocatio, Agreste, Veranda, Amazonica, Emblema, Naturalis, Green Time, Pomeriggio, ScandiFever, TV Corner, Nuance, Coastal Plants, Bontempo, Bossa Nova, Calligaris, Zara, Keep Life Simple, Morning Tea, Ofuro, Breezy, MinimaliSIM, Clarity, Modernism, Chlorophyll, Mix It

Soloriya: Winnie

MincSims: Tara, Basset

Siomi's: Vault Avalon House II

Simsova: Plants, Plant Stands

Lapanemona: HEX

Comiko: Boho, Book Nook Zodiac

[dealgemeneverwarring]

De Algemene Verwarring #108 - 4 March 2024

Episode one hundred and eight of De Algemene Verwarring was broadcast on Monday, March 4, 2024, and you can listen to it by clicking on the link below that will take you directly to the Mixcloud page:

Pictured below is Bärchen Und Die Milchbubis! They are a band from Hannover, Germany, they released one album and two singles between 1980 and 1982, and now, in 2024, they are touring again! But that's not why I played them in the show, I played them because they are one of the bands that are featured in the fantastic Inner World 033 podcast, by the World Of Echo label, and compiled by the Famous Mammals. It's a three hour long feast of great great music, and I wanted to direct my listeners to this podcast, go listen and enjoy. Also, this episode of De Algemene Verwarring is a digital one, so as always I'm playing some tracks that I don't own on a physical lp or cd. Some of them are just ripped off the youtubes because unavailable on other places, and some others are from the Bandcamp vaults. Links below in the playlist when available. I particularly enjoyed making this episode, I think there are some real bangers in there. Oh and by the way sorry for the delay with the update here. And beneath the photo you can find the playlist for this show. Enjoy!

Playlist:

The Gories: Nitroglycerine (7” “Nitroglycerine/Makin’ Love” on New Rose Records, 1990)

Snooper: Company Car (digital release on Bandcamp, 2023)

Personal & The Pizzas: (Don’t Trust No) Party Boy (7” “I Want You” on Trouble In Mind Records, 2010)

Cuir: Gast (cassette “Promo Tape” on Offside Records & Forty Tapes, 2024)

Big Black: Rema-Rema (one-sided 7” “Rema-Rema” on Forced Exposure, 1985)

Geo: Elasticate (cassette “Geo”, self-released by the band, 2021)

Onyon:  Alien Alien (LP “Last Days On earth” on Trouble In Mind Records, 2023)

I.L.L.O.: Roses (cassette “10 Ill Songs” on Spared Flesh & U-Bac, 2024)

Dilemmas: Bomb The Clock (cd-r “Zero Work” on You Need To Practice More, 2017)

Bärchen Und Die Milchbubis: Muskeln (7” Muskeln” on Schalter Records, 1982, also on LP “Dann Macht Es Bum” on No Fun Records, 1981 and the compilation “Endlich Komplett Betrunken” on Tapete Records, 2021)

Would Be Goods: Cecil Beatons Scrapbook (7” “The Camera Loves Me” on Cherry Red Records, 1988) - UK indie pop rond zangeres Jessica Griffin, nu solo project

Pletyka: Aug. 31 (cassette & digital release on Szégyen Kazetták, 2023)

Desinteresse: Ver Weg Van Hier (Cassette “Voor Altijd” on Decadence, 2023)

Chalk: The Gate (12” “Conditions II” on Nice Swan Records, 2024)

番長 Taste: Fireflies In The Shrine (CD “Summer Nights” on Carbon Records, 2023)

LSD Fundraiser: Industrial Jazz Hands (Cassette “Fashionably Late For The Apocalypse” on Knotwilg Records, 2022)

Modelbau/Steffan De Turck: Kitchen Sink Realism (Bukhansan) (cd-r “Zweites Treffen (undefiniert)” on Kirigirisu Recordings, 2023) 

[random-quotes-stuff]

...some dusty, crusty tracks from They Might Be Giants' Iron Mountain Vault

—Cecil Portesque

[bala5]

1877 - Alice B. Toklas, American member of the Parisian avant-garde and sober life partner of Gertrude Stein, is born. She left the United States and moved to Paris five months after the devastating 1906 earthquake and fire destroyed most of San Francisco. He met Gertrude Stein the day he arrived in Paris, September 8, 1907, the beginning of their relationship that lasted until Stein's death in 1946. They organized a salon in his home that attracted notable American expatriate writers and European painters from Vanguard. . When Stein died in 1945, she bequeathed much of her estate, including her portion of the art collection they acquired together, to Toklas, but her relationship was not legally recognized. The greatly increased value of the paintings prompted Stein's relatives to counterclaim, and they removed the artworks from Toklas's home and placed them in a bank vault while she was on vacation. After that, Toklas often had to rely on contributions from her friends to supplement her income from writing articles for magazines and newspapers. In 1954, she published The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook, Mixing Recipes with Reminiscences, and became famous for a recipe for 'Haschich Fudge' that was actually from her friend Brion Gysin. A second cookbook from 1958, Aromas and Flavors of Past and Present, was so talked about by editor Poppy Cannon that Toklas did not approve of it. In 1963, she published her autobiography, What Is Remembered, and ended it abruptly with the death of Gertrude Stein. The last years of her were very difficult due to the deterioration of her economic and health problems. She died in poverty in 1967 at age 89, and is buried alongside Stein, with her name etched on the back of Stein's headstone.

Alice B. Toklas, April 30, 1877 – March 7, 1967.

With Gertrude Stein. 1939 photo by Cecil Beaton.

[allthenewzworld]

Romanian gymnast Ana Barbosu received her Olympic bronze medal during a ceremony in the capital Bucharest on Friday that marked the conclusion of a swirl of controversy after the medal was first awarded to U.S. gymnast Jordan Chiles but later revoked.

"I did not expect the medal to be so heavy, but I would wear it day and night if this is what it takes to have it," Barbosu said after the ceremony.

The medal was reallocated to Barbosu after a ruling by the Court of Arbitration for Sport last week that voided an appeal by Team USA coach Cecile Landi during the Aug. 5 floor exercise final in Paris, which had vaulted Chiles into third place and pushed Barbosu down to fourth.

Chiles was initially awarded the bronze following the appeal and participated in the medal ceremony following the competition.

That decision caused an uproar in Romania, historically a gymnastics powerhouse, and led gymnastics federation to request a review of the U.S. team's appeal procedure. CAS ultimately ruled in favor of Barbosu, saying the U.S. team had made its appeal four seconds beyond the one-minute deadline.

📸 by Vadim Ghirda

[normally0]

The Architectural News

Following some design work I was taken by the similarity’s between The Wimbledon House and the BEWAG Haus, specifically with regard to the staircases.

The Architectural Drawings at All Souls College, Oxford:�Wren and Hawksmoor

333 - AS IV.122. Survey plan, drawn by Hawksmoor to a scale of 10 ft to an inch (drawn scale). The draughtsmanship is datable to the early 1690s. Dark brown ink over pencil. 448 x 764 mm. Strasbourg lily WR; P. The central axis is dotted in ink. Pencil additions:

* (i) The screens passage is crossed out and a new wall drawn 9–6 ft from the central axis.

* (ii) A canopy is loosely sketched in one of the seventeenth-century rooms.

The cross vault over the chapel may also be an addition.

Note to 333:Wimbledon House was built for Sir Thomas Cecil, afterwards Earl of Exeter, c. 1588. It was subsequently purchased by Charles I and presented to Henrietta Maria, who employed Inigo Jones to undertake alterations in 1638–42. Jones was responsible for the T-shaped arrangement of rooms and corridors situated on the W side of the house. In 1673 (or thereabouts) the house was bought by Thomas Osborne, later 1st Duke of Leeds. The origins of 333 are not recorded. It should be noted, however, that in 1692 Sophia Osborne, a widowed daughter of the Duke of Leeds, married Lord Lempster, Hawksmoor’s patron at Easton Neston.

MAX DUDLER

BEWAG-HAUS

Location Markgrafenstraße 35, D-10117 Berlin

Client Berliner Kraft und Licht BEWAG

Building period 1994–1997

Volume GFA 9.000 m²

The residential and commercial building for Bewag—in a prominent location on Berlin’s Gendarmenmarkt—was built on the site where the city’s oldest power station once stood. The building’s design references the historic town house typology of the Friedrichstadt district. The defining feature is the relief-style stone facade with recessed steel-framed windows. The clearly visible facade screws add a technological touch, alluding to the industrial architecture that used to occupy this site. The building’s axial emphasis and the entrance situation it creates reference the Deutscher Dom (German Church) that faces it on the square.

#WimbledonHouse #BEWAGHaus #ArchitecturalDesign #HistoricInfluence #WrenAndHawksmoor #AllSoulsCollege #ArchitecturalDrawings #InigoJones #ThomasCecil #CharlesI #MaxDudler #Gendarmenmarkt #BerlinArchitecture #IndustrialHeritage #ArchitecturalLegacy #StrasbourgLily #ArchitecturalResearch

[music-despite-everything]

Happy birthday, Adrienne Rich!

Adrienne Cecile Rich, born May 16, 1929, in Baltimore, Maryland, and died March 27, 2012, in Santa Cruz, California, was an American poet, essayist, and feminist. She was called "one of the most widely read and influential poets of the second half of the 20th century", and was credited with bringing "the oppression of women and lesbians to the forefront of poetic discourse." Rich criticized rigid forms of feminist identities and valorized what she coined the "lesbian continuum," which is a female continuum of solidarity and creativity that impacts and fills women's lives.

Her first collection of poetry, A Change of World, was selected by renowned poet W. H. Auden for the Yale Series of Younger Poets Award. Auden went on to write the introduction to the published volume. She famously declined the National Medal of Arts, protesting the vote by House Speaker Newt Gingrich to end funding for the National Endowment for the Arts.

---

Snapshots of a Daughter-in-Law, 1963

1

You, once a belle in Shreveport, with henna-colored hair, skin like a peach bud, still have your dresses copied from that time, and play a Chopin prelude called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections float like perfume through the memory." Your mind now, moldering like wedding-cake, heavy with useless experience, rich with suspicion, rumor, fantasy, crumbling to pieces under the knife-edge of mere fact. In the prime of your life. Nervy, glowering, your daughter wipes the teaspoons, grows another way. 2 Banging the coffee-pot into the sink she hears the angels chiding, and looks out past the raked gardens to the sloppy sky. Only a week since They said: Have no patience. The next time it was: Be insatiable. Then: Save yourself; others you cannot save. Sometimes she's let the tap stream scald her arm, a match burn to her thumbnail, or held her hand above the kettle's snout right in the woolly steam. They are probably angels, since nothing hurts her anymore, except each morning's grit blowing into her eyes.

3 A thinking woman sleeps with monsters. The beak that grips her, she becomes. And Nature, that sprung-lidded, still commodious steamer-trunk of tempora and mores gets stuffed with it all: the mildewed orange-flowers, the female pills, the terrible breasts of Boadicea beneath flat foxes' heads and orchids. Two handsome women, gripped in argument, each proud, acute, subtle, I hear scream across the cut glass and majolica like Furies cornered from their prey: The argument ad feminam, all the old knives that have rusted in my back, I drive in yours, ma semblable, ma soeur! 4 Knowing themselves too well in one another: their gifts no pure fruition, but a thorn, the prick filed sharp against a hint of scorn... Reading while waiting for the iron to heat, writing, My Life had stood--a Loaded Gun-- in that Amherst pantry while the jellies boil and scum, or, more often, iron-eyed and beaked and purposed as a bird, dusting everything on the whatnot every day of life.

5 Dulce ridens, dulce loquens, she shaves her legs until they gleam like petrified mammoth-tusk. 6 When to her lute Corinna sings neither words nor music are her own; only the long hair dipping over her cheek, only the song of silk against her knees and these adjusted in reflections of an eye. Poised, trembling and unsatisfied, before an unlocked door, that cage of cages, tell us, you bird, you tragical machine-- is this fertillisante douleur? Pinned down by love, for you the only natural action, are you edged more keen to prise the secrets of the vault? has Nature shown her household books to you, daughter-in-law, that her sons never saw?

7 "To have in this uncertain world some stay which cannot be undermined, is of the utmost consequence." Thus wrote a woman, partly brave and partly good, who fought with what she partly understood. Few men about her would or could do more, hence she was labeled harpy, shrew and whore. 8 "You all die at fifteen," said Diderot, and turn part legend, part convention. Still, eyes inaccurately dream behind closed windows blankening with steam. Deliciously, all that we might have been, all that we were--fire, tears, wit, taste, martyred ambition-- stirs like the memory of refused adultery the drained and flagging bosom of our middle years. 9 Not that it is done well, but that it is done at all? Yes, think of the odds! or shrug them off forever. This luxury of the precocious child, Time's precious chronic invalid,-- would we, darlings, resign it if we could? Our blight has been our sinecure: mere talent was enough for us-- glitter in fragments and rough drafts. Sigh no more, ladies. Time is male and in his cups drinks to the fair. Bemused by gallantry, we hear our mediocrities over-praised, indolence read as abnegation, slattern thought styled intuition, every lapse forgiven, our crime only to cast too bold a shadow or smash the mold straight off. For that, solitary confinement, tear gas, attrition shelling. Few applicants for that honor. 10 Well, she's long about her coming, who must be more merciless to herself than history. Her mind full to the wind, I see her plunge breasted and glancing through the currents, taking the light upon her at least as beautiful as any boy or helicopter, poised, still coming, her fine blades making the air wince but her cargo no promise then: delivered palpable ours.

[sayaberry]

oh god iris has locked herself in the time vault with cecile? iris baby im getting you out of there