#Gypsy Wit - Part Eight

[csdarkfantasy]

Bane of Blood: La Gorgona, Part 2

The Amazonian odyssey of young Fernando San Martín. [A dark fantasy erotic novel. Read the full summary here -> La Gorgona ]

WARNING: No trigger warnings. Read at your own risk. 18+ only.

Previous Part

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Fernando's golden days with Carmencita were few and far between. Golden or not, his days with her were altogether numbered. He was eight years old when she died. Had she not been the type to leave him to his own devices for long stretches at a time, he might have worried at her being gone from the apartment for a day and a night together. As it was, he was merely puzzled when the policía showed up at the door, to tell him that his missing mother had been found drowned to death and washed-up downriver.

Whether it was foul play or not which had ended Carmencita’s wayward life, Fernando would never know. Not much investigation went into the cause of her death, as she had no family in the city except for him, little money and even fewer friends. Her funeral mass was an alms service, poorly attended. After it was over, a young nun came up to him. She knelt, smiling kindly at him as she met him eye-to-eye.

"Have you any family to take you in?" she asked.

Fernando shrugged. Everyone knew he was Don Juan Francisco’s bastard, but this nun was new to the city. Perhaps being ignorant of the don’s rakish reputation, or full of righteous naïveté, or simply moved by compassion for this winsome young orphan, she packed Fernando off to his father’s hacienda to plead his cause herself.

Juan Francisco was not at home when they arrived. They were received instead by his noble wife, the grave and sanctimonious Doña María Luisa (‘Santa María Luisa’ Juan Francisco referred to her snidely, though never directly), who grew only more grave and sanctimonious as the interview progressed. María Luisa remembered well her husband’s late and only mistress, the slattern Carmencita and this whelp of hers Fernando—the one innocent by-blow of a litany of infamous debaucheries.

In truth, María Luisa de Aria took pains to remember even the least and most casual of her husband’s many transgressions, a faithful accounting which had served her well throughout the years of her marriage, as righteous ammunition against him. She was a woman of great conviction and great fury, and these traits each fueled the other, stoking her temper to blazing heights which were terrible to behold. Her cold demeanor made these blazes all the more frightful.

Perhaps sensing something of this capacity in her, Fernando kept tensely still and silent throughout the interview, intimidated by those light grey eyes of hers scanning over him, coolly and inscrutably. Her statuesque beauty intimidated him all the more. Whatever María Luisa was searching for in him, she seemed to find. Perhaps it was a font of self-martyrdom against Juan Francisco which would never run dry. Perhaps it was a living symbol of her graciousness which could be held aloft for all to witness and admire. A symbol no doubt enhanced by the fact that Fernando was a good-looking boy, who, except for his tawny skin (which could be forgiven him), bore his father’s fine patrician features in perfect miniature. Had he possessed his mother’s uncouth gypsy eyes, had he been a sickly or an ugly child, the fastidious lady might not have found herself so magnanimous toward him.

"My hope, señora, is that you'll find it in your heart to—"

Raising a hand to cut the nun off mid-sentence, María Luisa declared, "The boy is clearly a charming, affable child, and an innocent besides."

Fernando glanced to the nun, seeing his own puzzlement reflected in the slight knit of her brows. For Fernando had not spoken a word to María Luisa, 'affable' or otherwise. Nor she to him. But this seemed irrelevant.

María Luisa went on to proclaim, "Not only will Juan Francisco and I provide for this child, we will raise him here in this house, as one of our own, with all the rights and privileges afforded thereof."

The kindly nun was flabbergasted at this pronouncement. To have Fernando adopted by Don Juan Francisco and his wife was not what she’d ever expected from this visit. She’d merely hoped to prevail upon the San Martín family’s spirit of charity—or perhaps even their sense of shame—to help make arrangements for the woebegone Fernando. Taken aback by the fairytale ending unfolding before her eyes, an outcome which seemed too good to be true, the nun hesitated, uncertain now as she looked upon this austere noblewoman what her intentions toward the poor, bereft orphan might be.

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#dark fantasy #dark fiction #original writing #creative writing #literature #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #cs dark fantasy #csdarkfantasy #la gorgona #bane of blood

[thejackalsden]

DISCLAIMER

DO NOT REBLOG THIS - I don’t give two flips if you like it, but do not reblog. It’s not yours to use. I can’t stop you, obviously, but know I am going to be extremely irritable and salty when I see it. Please, don’t reblog.

This headcanon long predates Kingdom Hearts 3, hell even KH 2. I’ve been writing Axel on various platforms since Chain of Memories first released at the end of 2004…Just to give you an idea.

Childhood

An accidental child, born in Radiant Garden and given to Katya, a Ruska Roma (Russian Gypsy) that had lost her world and an Irish laborer, Lea Fedar favored his mother by leaps and bounds. He favored the way her native tongue sounded, was taught fluent Russian before English was even attempted, a fact his father did not approve of. While his father never wanted children, his mother was over the moon: Lea was her life and reason for smiling every day, even if he wasn’t truly hers. While the father fell to drinking - upset his wife was more absorbed in their child than taking care of him - his mother taught him all she could, raising him like a true gypsy.

Dancing, his love of fire, his native tongue, his love of the guitar? All thanks to his mother. Losing his Heart and fragmenting his mind has made him forget her over the years, her name at least, but he will always remember bright green eyes and a smile that could dim the sun paired with hugs warmer than any sweater.

His father, however, is nothing but a source of hatred, the initial cause of Lea’s mind beginning to shatter even before he lost his heart. Lea lost his mother when he was eight - record claims it was a disease no one caught, but the truth was far darker. And Lea witnessed the truth, witnessed the blows from his father. His father, however, blamed the child for something so far out of his control, that it pushed Lea to seek haven with Isa, to live with the blue haired boy and his family when he was ten. Having dealt with his father’s abuse for two years, it was a process to relearn how to be a part of a family and feel love and positive support.

Lea’s bright, bubbly personality was always a front, always hid darker demons the child dealt with, that he confided only in Isa after being friends for years. When Lea and Isa decided to investigate missing people in the castle, originally it was so no one else would have to worry about losing a parent like Lea had - he couldn’t stand to see families worrying about people.

It just turned out far worse than any of them could imagine.

Iskusitel’

Everyone knows Lea and Isa lost their hearts, and became a part of Organization XIII , but little known is how it happened. Isa was turned first, Lea forced to watch his best friend lost to the darkness, his mind shattered even further from where it had already fractured thanks to his father. A darkness slid into the cracks and took form to protect the boy. A darkness he would come to call искуситель (Demon, Iskusitel’) and would hide behind to protect himself unknowingly from losing himself completely.

Xemnas worked to create the perfect weapon when he could not make Lea into a vessel. Axel became a warrior, trained to protect the vessels, and in turn Xemnas was unknowingly molding Iskusitel’, not Axel. The darkness of his mind was there to protect his heart, his mind. The darkness shifted, making him the perfect guard dog, the best weapon Xemnas could have to protect the beast’s handlers. Each of the original members had a hand in his training, but Xemnas held the most, making him just what would be needed to protect what  was needed.

His link to Isa, that friendship, was corrupted and twisted into a blind loyalty to Xemnas - the Superior, господин (Gospodin, Master) as he came to be called by Axel - all because the child had failed his friend and allow this to happen. Iskusitel’ slid into place to make sure it never happened again.

The Darkness isn’t always at the front of Axel’s mind though - it shifts and ebbs, it is just as much a part of him as breathing is. Even when he was recompleted, it just became more complicated, and that darkness is still there with the ever pressing drive to protect .

The Apex Predator

As he was trained to protect the Vessels, and trained to fight, Axel became a terror. More animal than man, more instinctual monster than Nobody, Axel will never back down from a fight. Instincts purely for hunting and destroying, reaction and reflections to make most want nothing to do with him. Those that do enter his path, usually don’t walk from it unscathed.

In Axel’s movements, there is nothing but confidence, an intimidating presence, and fluid movements. He knows how to draw attention to himself - he knows he’s attractive to most, and he’s not above using it to distract and get an upper hand in a pinch. A terrible person? Absolutely, but he knows his skill set, and he knows the tools he has to do what needs to be done, no matter the cost.

His time in the Organization taught him to be a manipulator as well, one of the best. A tongue of pure silver, he finds it very, very hard to be sincere with people - even after being recompleted and regaining his friends - he still struggles with it. Even after regaining his heart, however, Iskusitel’ is still present, but quieter, melded more into his mind, his thoughts. His mind is still fractured, but the darkness holds it together far better, and it’s more stable for his moods than when he was a Nobody.

There is the urge to protect, that base instinct that allows him to have those animal instincts (far better to control, and less likely to turn him into a ball of rage) if he’s cornered. A very, very dangerous man, he can go from calm and complacent to violent aggression in the blink of an eye, and heaven help whoever the inferno swallows.

#Headcanon > Axel #{ Hands down the most important headcanon I'll write for this bastard #and what makes this portrayal of Axel/Lea truly unique #He is a broken man with the will to survive that is TERRIFYING #This is default for his interactions with any KH muses #AU Verses that take him out of KH have a different means of showing this #But I'll get to that when I write Verse posts }

[blackkudos]

George Benson

George Benson (born March 22, 1943) is an American guitarist, singer, and songwriter. He began his professional career at the age of 21 as a jazz guitarist. Benson uses a rest-stroke picking technique similar to that of gypsy jazz players such as Django Reinhardt.

A former child prodigy, Benson first came to prominence in the 1960s, playing soul jazz with Jack McDuff and others. He then launched a successful solo career, alternating between jazz, pop, R&B singing, and scat singing. His album Breezin' was certified triple-platinum, hitting no. 1 on the Billboard album chart in 1976. His concerts were well attended through the 1980s, and he still has a large following. Benson has been honored with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Biography

Early career

Benson was born and raised in the Hill District in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. At the age of seven, he first played the ukulele in a corner drug store, for which he was paid a few dollars. At the age of eight, he played guitar in an unlicensed nightclub on Friday and Saturday nights, but the police soon closed the club down. At the age of 9, he started to record. Out of the four sides he cut, two were released: "She Makes Me Mad" backed with "It Should Have Been Me", with RCA-Victor in New York; although one source indicates this record was released under the name "Little Georgie", the 45rpm label is printed with the name George Benson. The single was produced by Leroy Kirkland for RCA's rhythm and blues label, Groove Records. As he has stated in an interview, Benson's introduction to showbusiness had an effect on his schooling. When this was discovered (tied with the failure of his single) his guitar was impounded. Luckily, after he spent time in a juvenile detention centre his stepfather made him a new guitar.

Benson attended and graduated from Schenley High School. As a youth he learned how to play straight-ahead instrumental jazz during a relationship performing for several years with organist Jack McDuff. One of his many early guitar heroes was country-jazz guitarist Hank Garland. At the age of 21, he recorded his first album as leader, The New Boss Guitar, featuring McDuff. Benson's next recording was It's Uptown with the George Benson Quartet, including Lonnie Smith on organ and Ronnie Cuber on baritone saxophone. Benson followed it up with The George Benson Cookbook, also with Lonnie Smith and Ronnie Cuber on baritone and drummer Marion Booker. Miles Davis employed Benson in the mid-1960s, featuring his guitar on "Paraphernalia" on his 1968 Columbia release, Miles in the Sky before going to Verve Records.

Benson then signed with Creed Taylor's jazz label CTI Records, where he recorded several albums, with jazz heavyweights guesting, to some success, mainly in the jazz field. His 1974 release, Bad Benson, climbed to the top spot in the Billboard jazz chart, while the follow-ups, Good King Bad (#51 Pop album) and Benson and Farrell (with Joe Farrell), both reached the jazz top-three sellers. Benson also did a version of The Beatles's 1969 album Abbey Road called The Other Side of Abbey Road, also released in 1969, and a version of "White Rabbit", originally written and recorded by San Francisco rock group Great Society, and made famous by Jefferson Airplane. Benson played on numerous sessions for other CTI artists during this time, including Freddie Hubbard and Stanley Turrentine, notably on the latter's acclaimed album Sugar.

1970s and 1980s

By the mid-to-late 1970s, as he recorded for Warner Bros. Records, a whole new audience began to discover Benson. With the 1976 release Breezin', Benson sang a lead vocal on the track "This Masquerade" (notable also for the lush, romantic piano intro and solo by Jorge Dalto), which became a huge pop hit and won a Grammy Award for Record of the Year. (He had sung vocals infrequently on albums earlier in his career, notably his rendition of "Here Comes the Sun" on the Other Side of Abbey Road album.) The rest of the album is instrumental, including his rendition of the 1975 Jose Feliciano composition "Affirmation".

In 1976, Benson toured with soul singer Minnie Riperton, who had been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer earlier that year and, in addition, appeared as a guitarist and backup vocalist on Stevie Wonder's song "Another Star" from Wonder's album Songs in the Key of Life.

During the same year, 1976, the top selling album 'Breezin' was released on the Warner Brothers label featuring the Bobby Womack penned title track and the Leon Russell penned This Masquerade which is now a jazz standard. Both tracks won Grammy awards that year and the LP put Benson into the musical limelight both in the USA and in Europe. Ironically, Benson had been discouraged up until this time, from using his singing skills, mainly as the company decision makers felt he wasn't competent enough vocally, and he should stick to playing the guitar. It was here that he clearly proved them wrong.

He also recorded the original version of "The Greatest Love of All" for the 1977 Muhammad Ali bio-pic, The Greatest, which was later covered by Whitney Houston as "Greatest Love of All". During this time Benson recorded with the German conductor Claus Ogerman. The live take of "On Broadway", recorded a few months later from the 1978 release Weekend in L.A., also won a Grammy. He has worked with Freddie Hubbard on a number of his albums throughout the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

The Qwest record label (a subsidiary of Warner Bros., run by Quincy Jones) released Benson's breakthrough pop album Give Me The Night, produced by Jones. Benson made it into the pop and R&B top ten with the song "Give Me the Night" (written by former Heatwave keyboardist Rod Temperton). He had many hit singles such as "Love All the Hurt Away", "Turn Your Love Around", "Inside Love", "Lady Love Me", "20/20", "Shiver", "Kisses in the Moonlight". More importantly, Quincy Jones encouraged Benson to search his roots for further vocal inspiration, and he rediscovered his love for Nat Cole, Ray Charles and Donny Hathaway in the process, influencing a string of further vocal albums into the 1990s. Despite returning to his jazz and guitar playing most recently, this theme was reflected again much later in Benson's 2000 release Absolute Benson, featuring a cover of one of Hathaway's most notable songs, "The Ghetto". Benson accumulated three other platinum LPs and two gold albums.

1990s to present

In 1990, Benson was awarded an Honorary Doctorate of Music from the Berklee College of Music.

To commemorate the long relationship between Benson and Ibanez and to celebrate 30 years of collaboration on the GB Signature Models, Ibanez created the GB30TH, a limited-edition model with a gold-foil finish inspired by the traditional Japanese Garahaku art form. In 2009, Benson was recognized by the National Endowment of the Arts as a Jazz Master, the nation's highest honor in jazz. Benson performed at the 49th issue of the Ohrid Summer Festival in North Macedonia on July 25, 2009, and his tribute show to Nat King Cole An Unforgettable Tribute to Nat King Cole as part of the Istanbul International Jazz Festival in Turkey on July 27. In the fall of 2009, Benson finished recording an album entitled Songs and Stories with Marcus Miller, producer John Burk, and session musicians David Paich and Steve Lukather. As a part of the promotion for his album Songs and Stories, Benson has appeared or performed on The Tavis Smiley Show, Jimmy Kimmel Live! and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

He performed at the Java Jazz Festival March 4–6, 2011. In 2011, Benson released the album Guitar Man, revisiting his 1960s/early-1970s guitar-playing roots with a 12-song collection of covers of both jazz and pop standards produced by John Burk.

In June 2013, Benson released his fourth album for Concord, Inspiration: A Tribute to Nat King Cole, which included Wynton Marsalis, Idina Menzel, Till Brönner, and Judith Hill. In September, he returned to perform at Rock in Rio festival, in Rio de Janeiro, 35 years after his first performance at this festival, which was then the inaugural one.

In July 2016, Benson participated as a mentor in the Sky Arts program Guitar Star in the search for the UK and Republic of Ireland's most talented guitarist.

In May 2018, Benson was featured on the Gorillaz single "Humility".

On July 12, 2018, it was announced that Benson had signed to Mascot Label Group.

On June 25, 2019, The New York Times Magazine listed George Benson among hundreds of musicians whose material was destroyed in the 2008 Universal fire.

Personal life

Benson has been married to Johnnie Lee since 1965 and has seven children. Benson describes his music as focusing more on love and romance, and eschewing overt sexuality, due to his commitment to his family and religious practices, with Benson serving as one of Jehovah's Witnesses. Benson has been a resident of Englewood, New Jersey.

#03/22

[badwolf-in-the-impala]

~Where the Wild Rose Grow~

~Chapter 7~

((Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6))

Image Credit: Myself, none of the pictures are mine obviously. Just the editing

Inspiration: Colors - Halsey

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature/18+

Warnings: PTSD, Drug use, Alcohol use, mentioned physical/sexual abuse, violence, angst, sexual content. 

Chapter Warnings: Drinking, fluff, little bit of angst.

Word Count: 4,723

A/N: Sorry I suck and haven’t updated this story in like...forever. I seriously fail at trying to get my shit together so I can finishes these fics...please don’t hate me lol.

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When Althea awoke the following morning Tommy had already gone. Leaving behind in his place a very cryptic note scrawled in that immaculate handwriting of his. He apologized for his absence but he had business elsewhere that morning that needed attending to; but that she was welcome to stay as long as she liked. Even offering her the day off if she wasn’t feeling up to it.

Althea heaved a small sigh as she placed piece of paper on the nightstand and pushed the covers back; sitting up as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. With a small stretch, she turned her head to glance out the window, noting that the sun was actually shining for once; a rare occasion. Her eyes widened slowly as realization suddenly struck her at how late she had actually slept as she noticed just how high the sun had risen.

Climbing off the bed she padded her way across the cold, hardwood floor, as she approached the large clock that sat atop the mantel above the fire. Checking and then double checking to make sure it was working properly when she saw that the time was well past eight in the morning.

Most days, since returning home from the War, she didn’t sleep any later than four in the morning, so this was an unusual occurrence indeed. But she didn’t have the time to dwell for long on the issue before a loud knock at the door grabbed her attention, instantly putting her on edge.

“It’s jus’ me!” A woman’s voice chirped cheerily, followed by a short pause, then by a few choice profanities as she chastised herself before adding, “I mean, it’s Ada!” Althea chuckled softly, the slip up helping to ease some of the tension as she crossed the room and opened the door slowly.

“Good morning!” Ada beamed brightly as she waltzed into the room, passed Althea, to the table where she set the tray she had been carrying and few other items in her arms down before turning around with a smile.

“Um, morning?” Althea turned with a quizzical expression as she allowed the door to fall shut behind her, eyeing the items Ada had brought with her, curiously.

“I didn’ wake you, did I?” Ada apologized quickly as she turned back to the tray and began pouring them each a cup of tea, offering Althea one of the cups once she had finished. “Thomas asked if I’d bring some things by.”

“No, it’s quite alright.” Althea replied, taking a quick sip from her cup before finishing, “I was already up.”

“Oh good.” Ada breathed a sigh of relief before taking her own sip of tea and returned the cup to the table. She then gestured for Althea to have a seat as she began pulling out a collection of fresh medical supplies to change the bandage on Althea’s arm. “Heard you had quite the afternoon yesterday?”

“Suppose I did.” Althea gave a soft laugh, watching as Ada rolled back the sleeve and began slowly undoing the bandage from Althea’s left forearm.

“Christ!” Ada breathed, eyes widening as she stared at the neatly sutured wound. “How are’ye not in pain?!” Althea simply shrugged in reply, taking a sip from her tea, as Ada gently began to clean around the wound again before applying more salve and redressing it with a fresh bandage.

“I’ve suffered worse.” Althea replied with a sad smile once Ada was through. Her hand instinctively drifting to her right shoulder for a brief moment; fingers probing tentatively at the scars that lie covered beneath Tommy’s shirt that she wore. “Anythin’ else pales in comparison, really.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine.” Ada stated softly as she tidied up the dirty bandages, disposing of them before returning to her seat to finish her tea. A comfortable silence fell over them as they listened to the bustling streets below, just outside the window.

“Oh! ‘Fore I forget,” Ada spoke suddenly, startling Althea as she jumped a little, startled by the suddenness of Ada’s voice, turning to watch as Tommy’s sister grab up a bag from the floor and pass it over; Althea taking it carefully. “Tommy had me grab ya some clean clothes from ye’re flat on my way over...I hope tha’s alright?”

“Of course.” Althea gave her a smile to reassure that she appreciated the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you, Ada.”

“Think nothin’ of it.” Ada replied sweetly. “An’ I was thinkin’, tha’ maybe if you weren’t busy, an’ needed a lil company today? Maybe we could do a bit of shoppin’, or visit the new Tea House tha’ jus’ opened? Doesn’ have to be anythin’ fancy … I mean, it would be a nice change from hangin’ aroun’ with Aunt Pol.” She chuckled nervously. “But obviously, it’s one hundred percent up to you.

Althea thought about it for a moment, considering the offer carefully as she finished her own cup of tea. On one hand, she probably should get some work done today; spend some time at the stables at the very least...But Tommy had offered her the day off, and it had been a great deal of years since she had actually spent time with another woman. At least doing anything that didn’t involve the tending of wounded soldiers, that it is.

“On second thought, forget I said anythin’.” Ada started to dismiss the offer nervously when Althea stopped her, reaching across the table to rest a hand on her arm reassuringly as she gave the younger woman a smile.

“Tha’ sounds like a lovely idea.”

~

It was late, somewhere around 7 o’clock  in the evening, before they were finally headed back for the Garrison. Tommy’s business having taken much longer than he originally intended when the day first started. But then again, making deals with Gypsies was never easy ‘business’, and now the entire day was all but wasted, along with any plans he had hoped to make that included Thea. Sighing heavily to himself as he drove, he could only hope at this point that she may have taken Ada up on her offer of spending the day together, out doing whatever it is women consider ‘fun’ these days.

He also couldn’t help it as his mind started to drift back to the previous night. Sharing his bed with the same woman in question; not intimately of course. But it had proven to be a welcome change of pace for him. One that he couldn’t help but long to repeat again, hopefully sometime in the near future.

While he still hadn’t managed to quite achieve a full night's sleep, it was for much different reasons. Better reasons, so to speak, and when he did finally manage to drift off, he did so peacefully into dreamlessness. No smoke, no whiskey, no sex...Just the genuine comfort of lying beside someone who understood his soul. Even if she wasn’t yet aware of it. Just being in her presence seemed to somehow seemed enough to put him at ease. But no matter how hard he tried to wrap his mind around it, he just couldn’t figure it out.

“Oi!” The sound of Arthur’s voice snapped Tommy from his thoughts. Glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye as he drove, acknowledging him with a soft ‘Hm?’, before turning his attention back to the road. “The fucks y’er head at, Tommy boy?”

“Nowhere.” Tommy replied bluntly.

“Lemme guess,” Arthur mused as he shifted in his seat, staring at Tommy intently, as he studied his brothers seemingly blank expression closely. “Thea?”

“Shut up, Arthur.” Tommy gave him a warning glare.

“So I am right?!”

“Drop it.” Tommy repeated.

“Aw, c’mon Tom. Ye gotta give me somethin’ta go on ‘ere. Did ya sleep wit-”

“I said’ta fuckin’ drop it.” Tommy snapped, cutting Arthur off in a harsh tone. “Now shut the fuck up ‘fore I kick ya outta the Goddamn car.”

“Christ, Tom, I’m fookin’ jokin’. Don’t go gettin’ y’er knickers in a knot.” Arthur huffed out, but as requested he dropped the subject. Leaving the last remaining half hour of their drive completely silent. Arthur all but a little too relieved as they pulled up outside of the Garrison finally.

“Let’s jus’ hope John boy ain’t wrecked the place, eh?” Arthur grumbled as they climbed out of Tommy’s automobile and began to approach the doors of the Pub; both pausing to exchange a confused look at the strange commotion that was coming from within. Something that sounded an awful lot like a chorus of singing.

“Wha’ in the bloody ‘ell--”

Tommy followed close behind as Arthur burst through the doors, shoving their way into the Pub a ways before stopping, stunned to find the place packed; more so than usual at least. Not a single empty seat to be found in the entire building as patrons gathered around, drinking, chatting, and singing. Something that seemed quite unusual indeed, and there at the center of the room, atop one of the tables, stood Althea; whiskey glass and cigarette in hand, the room suddenly falling silent as she began another song.

Her voice rising as the melody of ‘The Parting Glass’ began to fill the silence, the beauty of her voice quickly captivating the audience that stood before her, Tommy included. Completely enthralled as he leaned a shoulder against the wall beside him, his own words suddenly escaping him as he listened; though they flowed from Thea’s with such ease. Even despite how she swayed slightly, likely from a little to much drink.

They hadn’t had singing, of any kind, at the Garrison since the war, and normally Tommy would’ve put a stop to it right then and there. But as he stood, listening to the intoxicatingly beautiful sound of Thea’s voice, a sense of calmness washed over him. Leaving a strange warmth to settle in his chest, a foreign feeling not often felt by Thomas Shelby these days. Until he had met the woman standing before the entire room, that is.

The crowd was more than a little disappointed when Althea had finished her song -- Tommy included -- and announced that she was through for the evening before trying to climb down off the table. A look of surprise overtaking her soft features suddenly, as Tommy and Arthur suddenly appeared to offer her a hand down, her cheeks suddenly flushed red with embarrassment.

“Havin’ fun?” Tommy arched a brow as he started down at her, trying his best to hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of his lips. Althea cleared her throat awkwardly as she tucked her hair behind ear, before smoothing her hands down the front of her blouse, chasing away imaginary wrinkles as she gathered her composure.

“As a matter of fact-- I was.” Althea answered as she took her drink back from Arthur. Tommy chuckled and shifted as he said, “Usually we don’t allow singing in the bar anymore. ‘Least not since before the war.”

Althea turned down the corners of her mouth, puzzled and downed what remained of her whiskey. “Oh, really? Tha’s a shame. The men seemed to enjoy it.” She said, handing her empty glass back to Tommy, a sly grin creeping onto her lips as she turned and pushed her way back up to the bar where Ada stood, ordering another round of drinks.

“Aw, Christ, John boy!” Arthur shouted as they approached the bar. “Ye had one job!” All John could do at that point was throw his hands in the air with an exasperated look, as he tried to keep up with the flow of patrons demanding drinks.

“Eh, it’s n’ah his fault!” Ada hiccuped drunkenly as she rounded on Arthur. Althea reaching out to catch her by the arm as Ada lost her balance and nearly toppled over

“It’s really not.” Althea gave an amused laugh as she righted Ada, turning to grab their drinks with her left hand before guiding them back inside the safety of the private nook. “I, am unfortunately, the bad influence to blame ‘ere. We shoulda’ left hours ago.” Althea admitted sheepishly as she took a seat, carefully. The effects of all the alcohol they had consumed since being there, finally starting to catch up with her.

“Aunt Pol is gonna ‘ave y’er arse.” Arthur shook his head, but gave a laugh -- directed at Ada -- as he and Tommy took their own seats at the table. “How long ye been ‘ere?”

“Too fuckin’ long.” Althea and Ada answered in unison before dissolving into a fit of giggles. Tommy and Arthur shook their heads, but shared a chuckle of their own all the same as they joined in on the drinking; even if it didn’t last much longer. It eventually being decided upon that they should take Ada home, before she nodded off with her head on the table, and Aunt Pol skinned them all alive. Arthur agreeing to stay behind and help John finish up so that they could close and finish out what business needed to be handled at the Garrison -- after helping to get Ada into Tommy’s car. The group ignoring her drunken ramblings about being perfectly fine and not wanting to go home just yet.

And even though he would never admit it, Tommy would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed about having to call it a night so soon, as he had rather enjoyed getting to see this side of Althea. Seeing her out of her shell and so relaxed, was a welcome change from the more reserved facade she normally put on. Something Tommy knew all too well about. But the ride wasn’t a complete waste. While Ada sat in the back seat, nodding off in her drunken state, Althea sat close to Tommy, her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed. Every now and then, Tommy glanced down at her and smirked to himself. Before he could shift and put an arm around her, Ada suddenly came to life, making both Althea and Tommy jump, before Ada launched into more drunken ramblings with Althea. In between words, Thea and Tommy exchanged glances and secret smiles gone undetected by Ada. Althea still sat close to Tommy and after a while, Tommy shifted to slide his hand over her thigh, raising her skirt slightly. Her cheeks tinted pink, even more than they were already from being drunk, and she slowly slid her hand over his, slightly lacing their fingers together. Tommy smirked and glanced down at her.

As they pulled up to the house, Polly was waiting for them, arms crossed, cigarette lit, and pissed. Tommy and Althea, both, tried to explain, but Polly waved them both off and escorted Ada up to a room and got her settled, leaving Tommy and Althea alone downstairs.

“Could’ve gone worse…” Tommy chuckled softly as he turned his attention away from the stairs, crossing the living room to the whiskey decanter where he poured a glass and offered it to Thea, who graciously accepted. Taking a few sips before setting it aside as she watched him pour a glass second for himself.

“Aye…” Althea chuckled as she took a sip from her glass. “I pity poor Ada in the mornin’, though. If Pol doen’ smother her in her sleep first.”

“Ah, she’ll be fine.” Tommy shrugged with a smirk, his icy gaze drifting down to meet Althea’s, the room falling silent again as he leaned up against the table behind him. His gaze watching intently as Althea glanced away briefly, chewing her lip lightly as though she were suddenly lost in thought. A good minute or two had passed when Tommy finally set his glass down and moved to see if she was alright. His fingertips just barely grazing her shoulder as Thea turned, suddenly, and without warning; her lips crashing into his.

It was something that caught Tommy a little off guard at first, causing him to stumble backwards a few steps before regaining his balance, as he slipped an arm around her waist, keeping them steady, allowing his other hand to slide up and caress her cheek. His thumb stroking lazily against her cheek as he returned the kiss; lips moving gently in tandem with her own.

The kiss started out slow and soft, but quickly became more urgent and passion filled as Thea parted her lips, allowing Tommy the access he desired as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, moving it freely against her own as her hands reached up to grip the lapels of the trench coat he still wore; pulling him closer. Tommy’s own hands drifting down to grip her waist as she pressed herself against him, a soft moan escaping her throat. It quickly replaced by a low whimper of disapproval as Tommy broke the kiss, leading her upstairs quickly.

Once the door to his room was shut and locked behind them, Tommy’s lips were quick to reattach themselves to Thea’s, as her hands began to make quick work of removing him of his trench coat, blazer, and shirt. His own hands moving to hike up her shirt as he picked her up, hooking her legs around his waist as he backed her into the dresser that sat against the opposite wall, setting her atop it as he settled between her thighs. Tommy’s fingers drifting to the buttons of her blouse as he trailed his lips along her jaw and down her throat, settling over the sweet spot between her neck and collarbone as he sucked lightly on the sensitive skin, reaching a hand up to palm one of her breasts, through her brasserie as he finished undoing her blouse and pushed it open, earning a moan of approval from Althea as she tipped her head back. Tommy’s teeth grazed across her pulse point as her nails scraped over the finely shorn hairs at the base of his skull; tugging him closer. The action prompting Tommy to return his lips to Althea’s, deepening the kiss once more as he pushed the blouse from her shoulders, allowing the fabric to slip down her arms slowly before casting it aside. The tips of his fingers ghosting over her skin, as they trailed down her waist, hands settling on her hips as tugged her closer.

Thea’s own hands settled on either side of Tommy’s face gently, as she lost herself completely in the kiss they shared. A soft moan escaping her as a rush of pleasure pulsed through her veins,  the same way a wildfire burns through a forest. The walls and defenses she worked so hard to keep up around herself on a daily basis, seeming to all but fade away. Tommy’s touch seeming to ground every bad thing that stirred inside of her; quieting the war inside of her mind, the same way it did his. She had spent so much of her time and effort trying to distance herself from her emotions...Starved from happiness, starved from feeling.

But there was something that woke, deep down inside of her, stirring slowly back to life with every small touch of Tommy’s hands against her bare skin. Reminiscent of how a Rose wakes from its slumber in Springtime; finally blooming after enduring a harsh and seemingly endless Winter. Flourishing once more under the warm caress of the Sun…

And it was Tommy’s touch that finally brought Althea out of her thoughts and back to the present situation, as his hand slipped gently across her right shoulder. Reminding her of the scars that lie scattered across her body, now fully exposed by the absence of her blouse. Althea blushed out of embarrassment as she broke the kiss, abruptly, turning away in an attempt to hide herself as she hunched inward and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Allowing her dark curls to fall across her shoulder and shield the scars that lie there. A sudden wave of anxiety and shame creeping in on her out of nowhere.

Her heart began to race frantically inside her chest as she wracked her brain for a way out of the situation at hand, about to speak some half-assed excuse and flee, when she was stopped buy the feeling of Tommy’s fingers grasping her chin softly; forcing her to look up and meet his eyes. Finding that icy blue gaze of his filled with solace and understanding, instead of pity or disgust, like she had expected. The simplicity of the gesture causing tears to well in her own eyes, which she was quick to try and hide; cursing her emotions, and the alcohol that had brought them to the surface.

“Eh, none of that now.” Tommy assured softly, despite the usual roughness of his voice, as he reached up to brush away her tears. Althea leaning into his touch, careful to avoid his gaze, as he stroked a calloused thumb against her cheek, she closed her eyes and gave a soft sigh.

“‘M sorry.” She muttered softly, now that she was coming down off the high of Tommy’s touch, her drunken state tried to slip back in, her walls and defenses slowly putting themselves back in their rightful places. She opened her eyes when she heard Tommy chuckle, softly, the light, yet deep rumble rushing through her. She finally looked at him again and gave him a soft smile as Tommy brushed away the stray tears, pushing his hand along her skin to push back the curls that had sprung forward.

“Don’ apologize, love. You can talk to me.” He said, softly. Althea shook her head and pulled the mask over her features as she said, “It’s nothin’. Jus’ been a while, is all.” She lied.

“We don’t ‘ave to rush it, pet.” He said, letting his hand fall, slipping over her shoulder to hold her waist. A comfortable silence hung in the small space between them as Tommy leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. Althea closed her eyes again and gave a breathy laugh before looking up at him, giving him a silent response. Tommy smiled and leaned back, taking a step away to help her off the dresser. Althea quickly grabbed her blouse and tugged it on, buttoning it up. Tommy kicked off his shoes before he lit a cigarette, watching as Althea took a seat on the edge of his bed, removing her own shoes before curling up against the pillows. Tommy joining her once he had finished his smoke, shifting to get comfortable as she rested her head against his chest. Not another word was spoken between them as they lay there. Althea comforted by the warmth of Tommy’s embrace, and his touch, as his fingers stroked lazy patterns against her arm. Lulling her into relaxation, and eventually, sleep.

~

Tommy woke up alone the following morning...Seeming like Thea had taken her chance and snuck off, not wanting to face the reality of what had happened between the two of them last night. He had hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but he knew better, and the guilt of feeling like he had taken advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, weighed heavy on his mind as he set about getting ready for the day. Making his way down to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee and some toast before heading off to the betting shop; stopping as he rounded the corner to find Althea sitting at the table with Aunt Pol, and a very hungover Ada.

“Mornin’.” Polly said, turning away from her conversation with the girls to acknowledge Tommy’s presence. Brow raised and a soft smirk fixed to her lips as she took a sip of her coffee, watching as he passed by her, stone faced, to the stove behind her. Grabbing his coffee and toast, consuming it in silence as the Pol and the girls resumed their conversation, something about new Tea Room that had just recently opened.

“Headed to the Betting Shop?” Polly asked as Tommy made to leave the kitchen, pausing briefly to give a nod as replied, “Aye.” The answer was followed by a moment of silence as Polly took another sip of her coffee, Tommy turning to leave when Althea’s voice stopped him.

“Would ye mind droppin’ me at the Garrison?” She asked softly as she looked up, not quite meeting his gaze as he watched her, trying to gauge her expression; but it was guarded, as usual.

“Of course.” Tommy gave a nod, waiting a moment longer -- ignoring the looks from Aunt Pol and Ada -- while Althea gathered her things. Giving him a soft smile once she had finished and was ready to go, turning to thank Polly for her hospitality once again. Polly simply waved it off with a smile.

“No need. You’re welcome anytime.” Polly’s gaze drifted over to Tommy briefly, his patience thinning as he continued to ignore her, which only amused her further. “Off with ya both, then. Best not be late. Arthur was in a hellava mood this mornin’.” Tommy didn’t have to be told twice as he turned and ushered Althea out the door, and into the car, before Polly’s gaze could burn a hole straight through his skull...The awkward silence on the ride to the Garrison not doing much in the way of helping his mood any; stuck in his head, obsessing over his thoughts, and it wasn’t hard to miss. Althea watching him closely the entire ride, Tommy never once taking notice, as she remained quit until they were inside the Garrison.

“Thomas?” Tommy glanced up from the ledger he had been skimming through, looking over to find Althea standing beside him, just a few feet away; hands clasped in front of her, patiently awaiting his full attention before continuing. “About las’ night...I wanted to apologize-”

Tommy raised a hand, stopping her before she could finish. “You’ve no need to apologize...You we’re drunk, an’ I shouldn’t of takin’ advantage like I did...It won’ happen again. You ‘ave my word-”

“That’s not wha’ I meant.” Althea chimed in, cutting him off with an awkward giggle as she glanced away, trying to hide the blush that tinted her cheeks,which earned her a rather confused look from Tommy before she cleared her throat softly and continued; green eyes fixing to his as she turned. “I meant abou’ the scars...How I shut down. That’s wha’ I’m apologizin’ for. Me bein’ drunk had nothin’ to do with it...I mean, did it make braver, in a sense? Probably. But it doesn’ make me regret a second of anythin’ else tha’ happened between us last night.” She finished softly, her gaze falling to the floor as she looked away from him again. His own gaze having become so intense -- his expression unreadable-- that it started to make her saying anything at all.

But that changed as Tommy stepped forward and grasped her chin lightly, raising it to bring her gaze back to his own, and while his features were still hard to read, that icy gaze of his had softened considerably. “Ye don’ have to apologize.” He assured her softly, running his thumb just beneath her lower lip; tracing it almost. Althea instinctively leaning into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for moment as she let out a soft sigh, composing her thoughts.

“I feel like a do, though.” She admitted softly. “For wha’?” Tommy questioned curiously as he stared down at her.

“For bein’ so broken...You don’ deserved tha’...No one does.” Althea admitted, attempting to pull away. Surprised when Tommy pulled her forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against her own; his hands resting gently on either side of her face as she stared up at him, her own features slightly twisted with confusion by his reaction.

“Ye’r not the only one who’s broken.” Tommy stated, pulling away from their embrace and closing the ledger on the bar, just as the front door of the Garrison flew open and Arthur came storming in; madder than a wet hen and shouting nonsense. Althea watching, brows furrowed and fingers pressed against her lips gently. The sensation of Tommy’s kiss still lingering, as she watched them leave without another word.

-----------------------------------------

Let me know if you would like to added to the taglist, or if I missed anyone...or if anyone’s usernames have changed. It’s been so long since I updated my shit. **laughs nervously** I’m sorry I’m like this.

TAGLIST: @jacksonroth @londoncharlotte88 @liiv0urlifee @theworld-is-ahead @zazasblogxx @readsalot73 @ly--canthrope @harjumus @theskinofmyemotions @sympathyfortheblinderdevil @juuliaa-gooliaa @feyrearcheron44

#Thomas Shelby #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Where the Wild Roses Grow #Tommy Shelbyx OC #Thomas Shelby x OC #Cillian Murphy #Peaky Blinders Fic #peaky fookin blinders #Fanfiction #Writing #Thomas Shelby fanfic #Sorry I suck

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 20 - 16

20. maNga - “We could be the same” Turkey 2010

You could see it in my eyes, it should come as no surprise that the highest rock entry on this ranking is OF COURSE the avant garde rock entry. 😍

It certainly isn’t a stretch to call “We could be the same” avant garde because it’s an experimental extravaganza if ever there was, a rag-rag fusion of indie rock, industrial, hiphop and folk. 😍 More importantly one that WORKS. It’s really hard to put all of these genres together and not disturb the flow between each segment, yet that is exactly what maNga do. Their song runs like an oiled machine, supported by an excellent score of orchestral rock (the fiddle is an especially nice touch.) The snappy libretto keeps the ensemble well together, creating an atmosphere of pure coolness. 

This brave and creative entry is further supported by an act that has a well-defined aesthetic and artistic vision. (another sign of good avant garde. Pay attention because we are going to boot a LOT of them near the top of this ranking). MaNga don’t need much in terms of staging (since their song is already excellent), so a clever combo of strobe light seizure + dramatic helmet removal (FEATURING ACTUALLY CUTTING METAL AWAY WITH A BUZZSAW) is all it needs. 

FOR JUST ONE NIGHT WE COULD BE THE SAME

NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY. 

Eurovision is all about taking the hand that you’re dealt and running with it. maNga did exactly that. They weren’t vocally perfect but again, rock is a genre where it’s okay to sound unimpressive because the score will always out class you. They don’t have the best song, but again, it was something special, brave and inspired. Every small aspect of “We could be the same” comes together into a whole that is much bigger than the sum of its parts and for that, I shall always cherish them. 

________________________________________________________________

19. Joci Pápai - “Origo” Hungary 2017

[2017 review here]

I was worried that Joci’s NQ in the latest contest would tarnish his legacy, but if anything “Az én apám”’s failure at being entertaining only made me appreciate “Origo” even more.😍 Let us not beat around the bush. “Origo” is art. Like all art, it’s largely hit-or-miss. You either love this wonderful fusion of rap, self-references to Samuraihood and gypsy folk traditions, or you’re a unevolved troglodyte with subpar taste.😈 Lol I remember the music journalists and juries HATING “Origo” and... honestly, I get it. Yes. I can understand that deeply personal anectodes and proudly displaying your cultural heritage can fly over the heads of those narrow of mind. It’s fine. Not every song has complex meaning. You can vote for the “Replays” of this world at your heart’s content. ^__^

Music is at its core a form of expression, of conducting emotion with sound, of telling a story. We use words as a crutch for our empathy, but truly good music doesn’t need to rely lyrics in order to spread its message around. The true message always lies in the score. “Origo” shatters those language barriers by slowly,

 but steadily

unfolding a melancholic and touching narrative

that strikes everyone silent.

________________________________________________________________

18. Krista Siegfrids - “Marry me” Finland 2013

A WILD DINGDONG HAS APPEARED

Only logical we continue from artistic complexity to figurative cotton candy. 😍 but the same musical principles apply here as well, actually. “Marry me” has an upbeat tempo flanked by wedding bells that already carries its happy-go-lucky marriage vibe across even before the first words are spoken. 🤗 It is there to indulge and delight, which it does with all the zest and pluck you’d expect from Krista Siegfrids. 

Anyway, I’m sure this will shock you but I FLOOOOOOOOVE Krista Siegfrids soooooooo fucking muuuuuch as a human and I am NOT backing down on my fanboyism. She’s one of the few Eurovision Alumni that ALWAYS makes me happy whenever she appears, either as a force of HIGH FASHION/UMK hostess or as a resident melfest flop queen.😍  HON SNURRA MIN JORD!!!

DINGEDONG EVERY HOUR, WHEN YOU PICK A FLOWER~

As it happens, “Marry me” is the perfect canvas for her over-the-top, realhousewifesque personality. "Marry me” just delivers non-stop: it has a light-hearted, infectuously catchy beat, doubles down on lyrical and visual comedy, carries a happy vibed with a deliciously psychotic undercurrent, supplemented a superb act featuring a groom-into-bridesmaids twist and some hilariously opportunistic lgbtq pandering 😍 OH OH OH OH OH

DING DONG!!!1!1!1!11!1!!

ps: this being the entry that caused TRT to withdraw indefinitely because they can’t get on board with some hot girl-on-girl action. STAY PRESSED LOSERTWATS!!!

________________________________________________________________

17. Laura Tesoro - “What’s the pressure?” Belgium 2016

“YOU’VE GOT A STUPID SMILE 😄” -- Alexander Rybak, when praising Laura Tesoro during the NF. (😍)

Lol this is where my degrees of separation come in, because I’ve met several people that personally know Laura Tesoro and... with one exception they ALL fucking loathe her. 😍 (and aforementioned exception is her cousin 😍)  The general concencus re: Laura is that she’s an insufferable conceited bitch. Now, this could have easily ended up terrible if LauraLaura was That Unfounded Girl but... um,

can we say she has grounds to be a bit high on herself? She was fucking awesome in Stockholm. If anything Laura’s diva id helped “What’s the pressure”. First of all, there is the admirable confidence with which she takes the stage and completely NAILS every twist and turn with minimal effort. This is pure performance TALENT and if you can’t see that you’re Helen Keller. 

And second there’s the message behind “What’s the pressure”, which is uplifting and cheerful in the hands of a normal person, but when brought by a narcissist like Laura becomes a hysterical exhibit of concern-trollery: “HEY PERSON SUFFERING FROM ANXIETY ~I~ *NEVER* SUFFER FROM ANXIETY. LET ME TELL YOU WHY YOU SUFFER FROM ANXIETY AND I DON’T” (god what an obnoxious human 😍 LOVE HER. 😍) 

All in all, I think Laura has the justification she needs to have an ego, something her aforementioned haters (begrudgingly) admitted after seeing her own the live twice.🤭  She is a living conduit of confidence juju, a performance wonder, a Diva trapped in the body of an antropomorphic labrador. Dynamite comes in small packages and Laura Tesoro is more lit than Chinese Newyear fireworks.  🎇________________________________________________________________

16. Hovi Star - “Made of stars” Israel 2016

I’ll be honest, Hovi Star is one of my favourite human beings to ever participate in Eurovision.🤗  He has proven himself an UNSTOPPABLE force of sass, delivering interview gold on a terrifyingly consistent basis. There are enough examples, but the ones I’m going with are his impeccable Ira Losco Snatch Game  and his hilariously petty, one-sided feud with Douwe Bob (Dutch reporter: “what do you think about Douwe.” Hovi: “Oh I don’t think about him.😊 At all.🙂  Ever. 🙃 *hairflip*” god what a King of stonecold putdowns 😍)

Having said that, even though I loved Hovi as a ~human~ going in, I was still caught off-guard by how much I loved “Made of stars”. See, you know what I think about stripped down power-ballads: I don’t think about them. At all. Ever. *hairflip*. 

However, this fucking song

pulls all of my heartstrings

with mesmerizing efficacity.

“Made of stars” showcases the best of Israel: they excel at classical drama: well-choreographed and sentimental, “Made of stars” is a genuinely touching ballad which Hovi magically imbibes with the spirit of Conchita. He whips up emotional tension so thick only his wit can penetrate it.

As an entry “Made of stars” is very emotionally intelligent and so, so brave. It has clearly defined yet subtle undertones of homosexuality that make me feel represented and loved. It is staged in good taste, elegant, introverted and clever, yet accessible, direct and poignant. The middle-eight’s crescendo-into-starfall creates a bone-chilling moment of beauty, of pride, of empowerment. 

For such a simple entry, it delivers a lot of great things, proving once more: it’s not what you perform, but how you perform it.

And this update spelled the end for Turkey, Hungary, Finland and Israel.

TURKEY

Not much to say, honestly. Turkey have three entries in this decade and two of them were good. They are a hit-or-miss nation for me overall, mostly because i LOVE them in the 80s and 90s and somewhat dislike them in the 00s. What mostly bothers me is TRT’s attitude towards the rainbow community AND their self-entitlement towards the jury vote/big five. Both are highly toxic and I’d rather they keep on sitting out until they’re willing to become a healthy part of the Eurovision community again. 

HUNGARY

Hungary are a good Eurovision country and their statistics reflect that. Boggie of COURSE ruined it by being the worst, but she’s an exception, not the rule. They are a really good country for indie gems and hopefully they’ll get their shit together. Could make a nice outsider winner pick in the upcoming decade, who knows?

FINLAND

Finland is such an underrated eurovision nation. I mean, look at that chart, and then ponder on the fact, with 7 good entries out of 10,  they NQ’d six times and that NONE of their four qualifiers reached the top 10. Finland are bullied beyond belief and it fucking needs to end. 

ISRAEL

This looks more underwhelming on paper than it is in reality. Israel’s probelm is never the song. Their songs are nearly always good. The problem is the live performance, where they get their accents wrong (ie: Mei dying from wideshotitis, Kobi being reduced to a sobstory, Dana being a giant penis joke, Harel fucking up vocally and Netta being reduced to a parody of herself). They just need to lighten up more, which they did post-Nadav resulting in a few great entries, and Toy. Overall, Israel are one of my favourite Eurovision countries, and for good reason: when they are good, they are fucking excellent. 

#Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #Turkey #Hungary #Finland #Belgium #Israel #maNga #We could be the same #Joci papai #Origo #Krista Siegfrids #Marry me #Laura Tesoro #What's the pressure #Hovi Star

[reprobateubeg4]

“But I'm a creep I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here. I don't care if it hurts. I wanna have control”

[Padded knuckles collided with the punching bag. Music blared against the air pods placed in my ears. Sweat dripped down my face as my biceps burned from anger and stress. I was trying my hardest to let out the heavy bag. I felt a hand move over my back. I ignored it at first, perhaps someone just letting me know they were stepping behind me and for not to step back. Most of the others had witnessed me losing my shit on Brody the last time he came that they generally left me alone. The hand on my lower back became a slow drop to the curve of my ass, palming with a squeeze and I held the strike to the bag, sliding my fist up the bag so that when I reared back my elbow would hopefully make the strike.]

Don’t FUCKING touch me!

[I heard some deep tones mumble beneath the volume of the earphones in my ear. The hand didn’t move. When the song ended and the silence before the next I heard “Bro, she ain’t the one.” “Nah, this small fry, I’m not worried.” I jerked in a turn and elbowed his throat. I pushed my palms to his chest to offset his balance and ducked low to kick his ankles out from under him. My air pods fell out of my ears from the movements. I moved over him, pulling the gloves from my hands before I started striking his face with bare knuckles, the pain bringing more of a sensation of releasing tension than the gloves allowed. I stopped when it was unclear if it was my blood or his that covered his face.]

Did no one ever tell you, the smallest people have the most rage?! DONT EVER FUCKING TOUCH ME!

[I pushed to my feet and picked up my air pods, gloves, and scooped my gym bag from the floor, slinging it over my shoulder without another word as I walked out of the gym before Enzo or Jackie stopped me to talk about it. I knew it would probably track back to them or Tommy eventually but I needed to calm and clear my head. I came to the gym to clear my head but that didn’t seem to be a thing. I tossed the bag in the passenger seat as I slid into the driver seat. I started the engine, no destination planned but I shifted into drive and drove. I drove through and ended at my Aunt Roma’s house. The police tape still plastered the property. Detective Dick said police had searched the house up and down, gathering all the evidence. It was declared officially cleared but they left everything. I parked at the gate and walked to squeeze myself through the opening in the partially open gate. My sneakers crunched against the broken glass. The burn stain from the line severing was still present. Pain burned through my chest at the sight of it. I moved on to her office where she conducted her psychic services. My eyes stared at the crystal pieces all around, some shattered from the attack, some from the lack of care of evidence gathering. I grabbed a box and collected the crystals that were still intact. The few crystal balls Aunt Roma still had were black coated. I raised one to bring it closer to my face, pressing my nose to the crystal.]

De ce ma orbi?

[Romanian words fell from my lips. I never thought I would feel so frustrated to be blackened out. It should’ve made my life easier. Right? My forehead pressed to the crystal as I let a tear escape down my cheek. I felt lost. Striving on a constant to fit in and the only part of me that felt natural and semi-normal, whatever that means was not allowed to exist. I threw the crystal ball to the wall with a scream of frustration escaping. My hands jerked up to block my face as the glass shattered and flew back towards me. Small glass shard piece found my palms. I plucked a shard free and watched the blood drip from the incision it left. I lifted the crystal piece to see it clear without the blackened shroud. I finished clearing the glass from my hands and found another crystal ball. I lifted it to the desk. I curled my hands into fists to make the blood surface to the cracks in my skin. I wiped the blood over the crystal and watched as the shroud cleared. Only partially. There was a figure and the words “Danger.” Appeared before the crystal darkened again.]

Magia sângelui

[Blood magic. That’s what I was reduced to? I mean it was how I severed the ties but it wasn’t anything I knew enough about to use. Reading the old books was definitely going to need to happen. I walked out of the house and squeezed back through the gate to my car. I was stopped when I heard a voice call out. “Kenzington?! Kenzington Rasputin?!” The tension rose in my shoulders. I hated my first name. The only people that used it knew my parents or were J Ratchet’s parents. I turned to look in the direction of the voice calling out, an older man. One I didn’t really recognize. I started to step close but instantly felt panic that stopped me in my steps. Why? I didn’t know. “ты так сильно вырос” My hand tapped and fumbled for the door handle as my heart pounded hard. I felt like a frightened child and could not calm myself enough to think about who was talking to me, or why I was actually scared.]

Извини кто ты?

[Russian slipped out as response to his words of talking about me having grown. It was clear he was from my past, but I couldn’t place it. He gave a laugh as he stepped even closer. “You don’t remember me? It’s Uncle Niko.” Suddenly my memory flooded back. Uncle Niko. My dad’s best friend who he claimed was like a brother. The boogeyman of my childhood. The man who stole my childhood innocence and destroyed anything that made me remotely happy when I was younger. The only good he did for me was becoming the reason I got to live with Grandmama when I was finally removed from my parents at the age of eight. At least until I was fourteen. The rage moved through me, the fear no longer presented.]

Why the fuck are you here?

[He gave a smirk as he reached the steps he needed to have me within reach. “Looking for you. Heard you were in town. Can’t find your Dad, he owes me money. Figured you would be visiting one of these gypsy bitches.” I shook my head.]

Fuck off. I don’t know where he is. He fucked off and owes every-fucking-body money, so does mom, both of them are probably hiding out in Mexico or some shit or maybe they went to hide back home in Mother Russia.

[My tone of the last few words were thick with a Russian accent, an attempt at how my father used to say it. Niko raised a hand to brush the back of his hand to my cheek. I slapped his hand away and stepped back. “So beautiful. I always knew you’d grow to be so perfect.” It took everything in me to keep the vomit down.]

Seriously. Fuck off, Dude.

[I went to push past him and get into the car to leave. I was stopped by Niko pressing me to the car. I pushed back, the soreness in my muscles made it a weak attempt as I couldn’t get the space I needed to escape. Instead it gave him more advantage to grope. I fought, yelled, catching a hand over my mouth. My hands slapped and clawed at Niko to get some kind of space to fight him off. I was too close to the car to kick free and my arms couldn’t reach any pressure points with how he held me. I heard a bark in the distance and before I knew it Niko was yelling and I was shoved in a hard slam but Niko was yanked back, giving me room to turn around. Monster, Aunt Roma’s black Great Dane had come back from his runaway in the woods. The night she was killed I attempted to take him but he took off into the woods. Not ready to leave his home. I’d been coming to place food in his bowl every day in hopes to get him to bring him back without any sight of him. Thankfully today was the day he decided to make his return. I slumped against the car as I tried to catch my breath. Monster tore into Niko pulling at his pants, wrists, legs anything and everything to drag him away from me. “Get this hellhound off me!” I let it go on a little longer waiting to hear Niko beg for help first.]

Monster! Eliberare, Hai!

[Monster stopped and released his hold on Niko before he walked over to me. He stood guard by my legs and growled as Niko moved to get up. “That’s not Russian, Kenzington.” He laughed as he walked away. “Enjoy the time you have. I’m sure I’ll find you again real soon. I’ll get what I’m owed one way or another.”]

Fuck off.

[I watched him as I moved to get in the car, letting Monster jump in first before I climbed in. I locked the doors and drove, taking the longest way home, speeding through different roads to throw anyone off in case I was followed.]

#Spotify

[salicedaze]

What the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive wants the world to know At 97, Ben Ferencz is the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive and he has a far-reaching message for today’s world

2017May 07

CORRESPONDENTLesley Stahl

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Twenty-two SS officers responsible for the deaths of 1M+ people would never have been brought to justice were it not for Ben Ferencz.

The officers were part of units called Einsatzgruppen, or action groups. Their job was to follow the German army as it invaded the Soviet Union in 1941 and kill Communists, Gypsies and Jews.

Ferencz believes "war makes murderers out of otherwise decent people" and has spent his life working to deter war and war crimes.  

Ben Ferencz

It is not often you get the chance to meet a man who holds a place in history like Ben Ferencz.  He's 97 years old, barely 5 feet tall, and he served as prosecutor of what's been called the biggest murder trial ever. The courtroom was Nuremberg; the crime, genocide; the defendants, a group of German SS officers accused of committing the largest number of Nazi killings outside the concentration camps -- more than a million men, women, and children shot down in their own towns and villages in cold blood.

Ferencz is the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive today. But he isn't content just to be part of 20th century history -- he believes he has something important to offer the world right now.

"If it's naive to want peace instead of war, let 'em make sure they say I'm naive. Because I want peace instead of war."

Lesley Stahl: You know, you-- have seen the ugliest side of humanity.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: You've really seen evil. And look at you. You're the sunniest man I've ever met. The most optimistic.

27-year-old Ben Ferencz became the chief prosecutor of 22 Einsatzgruppen commanders at Nuremberg.

Benjamin Ferencz: You oughta get some more friends.

Watching Ben Ferencz during his daily swim, his gym workout and his morning push-up regimen is to realize he isn't just the sunniest man we've ever met -- he may also be the fittest. And that's just the beginning.

This is Ferencz making his opening statement in the Nuremberg courtroom 70 years ago.

Ben Ferencz in court: The charges we have brought accuse the defendants of having committed crimes against humanity.

The Nuremberg trials after World War II were historic -- the first international war crimes tribunals ever held. Hitler's top lieutenants were prosecuted first. Then a series of subsequent trials were mounted against other Nazi leaders, including 22 SS officers responsible for killing more than a million people -- not in concentration camps -- but in towns and villages across Eastern Europe. They would never have been brought to justice were it not for Ben Ferencz.

Lesley Stahl: You look so young.

Benjamin Ferencz: I was so young.  I was 27 years old.

Lesley Stahl: Had you prosecuted trials before?

Benjamin Ferencz: Never in my life. I don't—

Lesley Stahl: Come on.

Benjamin Ferencz: --recall if I'd ever been in a courtroom actually.

Ferencz had immigrated to the U.S. as a baby, the son of poor Jewish parents from a small town in Romania. He grew up in a tough New York City neighborhood where his father found work as a janitor.

Ben Ferencz, 1946.

Benjamin Ferencz: When I was taken to school at the age of seven, I couldn't speak English-- spoke Yiddish at home. And I was very small. And so they wouldn't let me in.

Lesley Stahl: So you didn't speak English 'til you were eight?

Benjamin Ferencz: That's correct.

Lesley Stahl: Could you read?

Benjamin Ferencz: No, on the contrary. The silent movies always had writing on it. And I would ask my father, "Wazukas," in Yiddish, "What does it say? What does it say?" He couldn't read it, either.

But Ferencz learned quickly. He became the first in his family to go to college, then got a scholarship to Harvard Law School. But during his first semester, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and he, like many classmates, raced to enlist. He wanted to be a pilot, but the Army Air Corps wouldn't take him.

Benjamin Ferencz:  They said, "No, you're too short. Your legs won't reach the pedals." The Marines, they just looked at me and said, "Forget it, kid."

So he finished at Harvard then enlisted as a private in the Army. Part of an artillery battalion, he landed on the beach at Normandy and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. Toward the end of the war, because of his legal training, he was transferred to a brand new unit in General Patton's Third Army, created to investigate war crimes.  As U.S. forces liberated concentration camps, his job was to rush in and gather evidence. Ferencz told us he is still haunted by the things he saw. And the stories he heard in those camps.

Benjamin Ferencz: A father who, his son told me the story. The father had died just as we were entering the camp. And the father had routinely saved a piece of his bread for his son, and he kept it under his arm at… He kept it under his arm at night so the other inmates wouldn't steal it, you know.  So you see these human stories which are not -- they're not real.  They're not real.  But they were real.

Ferencz came home, married his childhood sweetheart and vowed never to set foot in Germany again.  But that didn't last long. General Telford Taylor, in charge of the Nuremberg trials, asked him to direct a team of researchers in Berlin, one of whom found a cache of top-secret documents in the ruins of the German foreign ministry.

Benjamin Ferencz: He gave me a bunch of binders, four binders. And these were daily reports from the Eastern Front-- which unit entered which town, how many people they killed. It was classified, so many Jews, so many gypsies, so many others--

Ferencz had stumbled upon reports sent back to headquarters by secret SS units called Einsatzgruppen, or action groups. Their job had been to follow the German army as it invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, and kill Communists, Gypsies and especially Jews.

Screenshot from film showing the Einsatzgruppen at work.

Benjamin Ferencz: They were 3,000 SS officers trained for the purpose, and directed to kill without pity or remorse, every single Jewish man, woman, and child they could lay their hands on.

Lesley Stahl: So they went right in after the troops?

Benjamin Ferencz: That was their assignment, come in behind the troop, round up the Jews, kill 'em all.

Only one piece of film is known to exist of the Einsatzgruppen at work.  It isn't easy viewing…

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, this is typical operation.  Well, see here, this-- they rounded 'em up. They all have already tags on 'em. And they're chasing them.

Lesley Stahl: They're making them run to their own death?

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes. Yes. There's the rabbi coming along there. Just put 'em in the ditch. Shoot 'em there. You know, kick 'em in.

Lesley Stahl: Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

This footage came to light years later. At the time, Ferencz just had the documents, and he started adding up the numbers.

Benjamin Ferencz: When I reached over a million people murdered that way, over a million people, that's more people than you've ever seen in your life, I took a sample. I got on the next plane, flew from Berlin down to Nuremberg, and I said to Taylor, "General, we've gotta put on a new trial."

Ben Ferencz entered into evidence the defendants' own reports of what they'd done.  

But the trials were already underway, and prosecution staff was stretched thin. Taylor told Ferencz adding another trial was impossible.

Benjamin Ferencz: And I start screaming. I said, "Look. I've got here mass murder, mass murder on an unparalleled scale."  And he said, "Can you do this in addition to your other work?" And I said, "Sure." He said, "OK. So you do it."

And that's how 27-year-old Ben Ferencz became the chief prosecutor of 22 Einsatzgruppen commanders at trial number 9 at Nuremberg.

Judge: How do you plead to this indictment, guilty or not guilty?

Defendant: Nicht schuldig.

Benjamin Ferencz: Standard routine, nicht schuldig.  Not guilty.

Judge: Guilty or not guilty?

Defendant: Nicht schuldig.

Lesley Stahl: They all say not guilty.

Benjamin Ferencz: Same thing, not guilty.

Otto Ohlendorf

But Ferencz knew they were guilty and could prove it. Without calling a single witness, he entered into evidence the defendants' own reports of what they'd done. Exhibit 111: "In the last 10 weeks, we have liquidated around 55,000 Jews."  Exhibit 179, from Kiev in 1941: "The city's Jews were ordered to present themselves… about 34,000 reported, including women and children. After they had been made to give up their clothing and valuables, all of them were killed, which took several days." Exhibit 84, from Einsatzgruppen D in March of 1942: Total number executed so far: 91,678. Einsatzgruppen D was the unit of Ferencz's lead defendant Otto Ohlendorf. He didn't deny the killings -- he had the gall to claim they were done in self-defense.

Benjamin Ferencz: He was not ashamed of that. He was proud of that. He was carrying out his government's instructions.

Lesley Stahl: How did you not hit him?

Benjamin Ferencz: There was only one time I wanted to-- really. One of these-- my defendants said-- He gets up, and he says, "[GERMAN]," which is, "What? The Jews were shot? I hear it here for the first time."  Boy, I felt if I'd had a bayonet I woulda jumped over the thing, and put a bayonet right through one ear, and let it come out the other. You know? You know?

Lesley Stahl: Yeah.

Benjamin Ferencz: That son of a bitch.

Lesley Stahl: And you had his name down on a piece of—

Benjamin Ferencz: And I've got-- I've got his reports of how many he killed. You know? Innocent lamb.

Lesley Stahl: Did you look at the defendants' faces?

60 Minutes correspondent Lesley Stahl and Nuremberg prosecutor Ben Ferencz

Benjamin Ferencz: Defendants' face were blank, all the time. Defendants-- absolutely blank. They could-- like, they're waiting for a bus.

Lesley Stahl: What was going on inside of you?

Benjamin Ferencz: Of me?

Lesley Stahl: Yeah.

Benjamin Ferencz: I'm still churning.

Lesley Stahl: To this minute?

Benjamin Ferencz: I'm still churning.

All 22 defendants were found guilty, and four of them, including Ohlendorf, were hanged. Ferencz says his goal from the beginning was to affirm the rule of law and deter similar crimes from ever being committed again.

Lesley Stahl: Did you meet a lot of people who perpetrated war crimes who would otherwise in your opinion have been just a normal, upstanding citizen?

"War makes murderers out of otherwise decent people. All wars, and all decent people."

Benjamin Ferencz: Of course, is my answer. These men would never have been murderers had it not been for the war. These were people who could quote Goethe, who loved Wagner, who were polite--

Lesley Stahl: What turns a man into a savage beast like that?

Benjamin Ferencz: He's not a savage. He's an intelligent, patriotic human being.

Lesley Stahl: He's a savage when he does the murder though.

Benjamin Ferencz: No. He's a patriotic human being acting in the interest of his country, in his mind.

Lesley Stahl: You don't think they turn into savages even for the act?

Benjamin Ferencz: Do you think the man who dropped the nuclear bomb on Hiroshima was a savage? Now I will tell you something very profound, which I have learned after many years. War makes murderers out of otherwise decent people. All wars, and all decent people.

So Ferencz has spent the rest of his life trying to deter war and war crimes by establishing an international court – like Nuremburg. He scored a victory when the international criminal court in The Hague was created in 1998.  He delivered the closing argument in the court's first case.

"If they tell me they want war instead of peace, I don't say they're naive, I say they're stupid."  

Lesley Stahl: Now, you've been at this for 50 years, if not more. We've had genocide since then.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: In Cambodia—

Benjamin Ferencz: Going on right this minute, yes.

Lesley Stahl: Going on right this minute in Sudan.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: We've had Rwanda, we've had Bosnia. You're not getting very far.

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, don't say that. People get discouraged. They should remember, from me, it takes courage not to be discouraged.

Lesley Stahl: Did anybody ever say that you're naive?

Benjamin Ferencz: Of course. Some people say I'm crazy.

Lesley Stahl: Are you naive here?

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, if it's naive to want peace instead of war, let 'em make sure they say I'm naive. Because I want peace instead of war. If they tell me they want war instead of peace, I don't say they're naive, I say they're stupid. Stupid to an incredible degree to send young people out to kill other young people they don't even know, who never did anybody any harm, never harmed them. That is the current system. I am naive? That's insane.

Ferencz is legendary in the world of international law, and he's still at it. He never stops pushing his message and he's donating his life savings to a Genocide Prevention Initiative at the Holocaust Museum. He says he's grateful for the life he's lived in this country, and it's his turn to give back.

Lesley Stahl: You are such an idealist.

Benjamin Ferencz: I don't think I'm an idealist.  I'm a realist. And I see the progress.  The progress has been remarkable. Look at the emancipation of woman in my lifetime. You're sitting here as a female. Look what's happened to the same-sex marriages. To tell somebody a man can become a woman, a woman can become a man, and a man can marry a man, they would have said, "You're crazy." But it's a reality today. So the world is changing. And you shouldn't-- you know-- be despairing because it's never happened before. Nothing new ever happened before.

Lesley Stahl: Ben—

Benjamin Ferencz: We're on a roll.

Lesley Stahl: I can't—

Benjamin Ferencz: We're marching forward.

Lesley Stahl: Ben? I'm sitting here listening to you. And you're very wise. And you're full of energy and passion.  And I can't believe you're 97 years old.

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, I'm still a young man.

Lesley Stahl: Clearly, clearly.

Benjamin Ferencz: And I'm still in there fighting.  And you know what keeps me going? I know I'm right.

Produced by Shari Finkelstein and Nieves Zuberbühler.

© 2017 CBS Interactive Inc. All Rights Reserved.

[jo-shaneflorence18]

Accademia & Uffizi

11/05/2018: The day began like all the others, a bit of a sleep in. We ended up tieing it on last night so were a bit sheepish first up. First thing first for Jo, she had to go back to the TIM phone shop as all her phone service both calls and data were gone. She left early so as to beat the queue. The rest of us got ready. Jo was gone for about half an hour and returned with no result. She needed her phone number to be able to be given help and she left the card with the number on it at the apartment. We then headed off to the Accademia for the first part of our art gallery day. Firstly to see Michelangelo's David and then after lunch a couple of hours at the Uffizi.

Another morning in Piazza della Signoria

The Galleria dell'Accademia was located in Via Ricasoli, a small street that by the time we got there was chock-a-block with people. After some initial confusion we found our guide Marta who rallied everyone together and put us on the end of the skip the line queue. Today was particularly busy and for some reason the line to get in didn't move too fast. We must have been in the line for half an hour before we hit the security screens to finally get in.

Entry queue to Galleria dell'Accademia

Old gypsy begging for some coin

The  tour was different to last time although probably expected. After entering we were taken straight to the Statue of David where she chatted on for a while and then done an about face to Michelangelo's prisoners. So named as the way he carved his pieces, it looked as though the subjects were escaping from the marble. Michelangelo started on one face only and worked his way through. As if someone was getting out of water they would suddenly appear as the water fell away. The four prisoners were so named as they were incomplete and as such prisoners of the stone. This gave us a good insight into the different stages of carving,  and the chisels used as different surfaces were of varying coarseness.

David

Prigione detto Schiavo barbuto

Palestrina Pietà. Once attributed to Michelangelo but they're now having second thoughts

After the prisoners, we parted but were recommended to visit the musical instruments before we left the museum. These were quite fascinating and obviously quite old. Some of the pianofortes and other stuff was unusual to say the least. The set of Stradivari's violins, violas and cellos were beautiful. A standout was the partial collection of the original 1690 Medici quintet consisting of two violins, two violas and a cello of which a tenor viola, the cello and a 1716 replacement of one of the original violins are on display.

Tenor viola and violoncello of the "Medici" Quintet, 1690

More from Stradivarii

Although somewhat awestruck by the display so far, we were far from finished. Grand Prince Ferdinando de' Medici lasted less than fifty years but in that time both he and his father, Cosimo III de’ Medici, amassed one of the most extraordinary collections of musical instruments in Europe, of which we all benefit from today (although most of their stuff went missing). They also had a part in the invention of the first pianoforte so designed by Bartolomeo Cristofori who was on their books as the musical instrument maker. Some good stuff here, surrounded by other, equally impressive stringed, wind and percussion instruments.

One of the pianofortes

Trumpet display

Due to the excessive wait at the start of the Accademia, the three hour mid day break between museums was reduced to two. This was fine but any plans to have a long lunch were modified. We had sandwiches and juice at a nearby corner shop before separating. Cecilia back for a quick rest, Jo back to the phone shop with the phone number in hand and the boys off to buy a couple of wallets. Shane tagged along. We were to meet on the street below the apartment just before three. By the time three came and went, we had met all of our goals, all achieved except for Cecilia (could work out the apartment keys), negotiated the detours created by the State of the Unions Summit, the European Parliament's annual get together designed to, put in their own words "Organised by the European University Institute in Florence, the State of the Union conference (10-12 May 2018) is an annual high-level debate on the European Union. The 2018 edition has a special emphasis on Solidarity in Europe, an overarching theme relevant to European economic, monetary and fiscal policies, social investment, strategies of EU defence and security, migration, climate change and energy programmes".

We couldn't get in here so we went in the next door

The next door was a little more civil with a good display of historical photos of Tuscany and the hardships that the locals endured during time's past. Not much time to look around though as we were on a mission and had to find Door 3 at the Uffizi.

Apple picking the old way

Within no time after arrival we had met our guide Marcello, an older gentleman with a great sense of humour. We donned our audio guides once more and stood in the Skip the Line queue again. Our entry this time was a lot quicker. Whether it was by luck or the influence of our guide (he never stopped talking to the museum staff), we seemed to skip ahead of others and were in before we knew it. Marcello was a real character, full of wit and one liners, and paying out on the different nationality tour groups. "We will keep the Germans in front of us. We have had them behind us before and that didn't go so well". He then muscled in on the French tour group so as to get our group a better vantage point and again later on with a Japanese tour group. He quipped that now that the Germans, French and Japanese will be after him so he best use the back door when leaving.

Marcello, strutting his stuff

The Uffizi was set up in rooms and in periods so as we went through the place, different artists and different styles were portrayed starting from the twelve to thirteen hundreds on. Amongst the first hall to visit was Hall 2, Giotto and the 13th Century. This room was home to amongst others, three apparent masterpieces, all showing the influence of Byzantine art, that is that the bodies are two dimensional, highly stylised and have sharp outlines. Or so the signage said. It was then that we followed Marcello from exhibit to exhibit, checking out the artwork and absorbing his entertaining banter.

Spending most of his career in Florence, Giotto di Bondone time was spent focusing almost exclusively on frescoes that later influenced the likes of Michelangelo and Raphael. Maestà, also known as the Madonna di Ognissanti, was painted by Giotto around 1310

Madonna with Child and Two Angels by Filippo Lippi. Later in life he teamed up with Lucrezia Buti, a nun and had a couple of kids. Maybe it's her and the kids in the picture

The Primavera or Allegory of Spring by Botticelli. Whatever it means, Venus looks well and truly up the duff

Laocoön and his Sons by Baccio Bandinelli. Trojan priest Laocoön and his sons Antiphantes and Thymbraeus are being attacked by sea serpents

Doni Tondo (Holy Family) by Michelangelo. Practice run for the Sistine Chapel?

Unfinished Adoration of the Magi by Da Vinci. Recently underwent a five and a half year restoration to get all of the crap of it from years of grime and a couple of bodgie restorations. Leonardo was commissioned by the Augustinian monks of San Donato a Scopeto in Florence but scarpered to Milan for a better gig halfway through

A finished Adoration of the Magi by Botticelli. The Medici's posing (posthumously) as the three wise men

Finishing up at the Uffizi around five thirty, we headed our different directions again. Shane and Jo over the Arno to find packing tape for the boxes to be posted home, the boys to look for leather jackets and Cecilia to the bar beneath our apartment.

San Jacopo sopr'Arno

Inside

This time we all achieved our goals, all joining Cecilia at the Bar Perseo for a drink. Her shout. Cecilia, initially alone was joined by Shane and Jo so a larger table was needed. Then another Aussie heard our accents and spoke up. He ended up at our table as well. Anthony from Perth holidaying on his own at his wife's blessing, visiting the birth region of his parents as well as touring through Italy. He had been a Radio DJ but after a cancer scare, treatment and recovery, he gave up the early rising and took up real estate agent work. Not long after, Tom and Beau turned up. Soon one turned to six and one drink turned to three or four. All the while Vincenzo, our waiter fed us the best snacks to keep us going. Small tasty morsels, olives, pistachios and so on. One hundred and eighty euro later we were heading back to start packing.

Thanks Vincenzo

We left the bar by seven thirty, packed up and playing dominos by ten and to bed after midnight. Tomorrow we get our bond back by eleven, try to get a couple of taxis to Santa Maria Novella, and board the twelve thirty eight fast train to Rome.

[nyc-uws]

An exhibition created by the Centre des monuments nationaux to celebrate the anniversary of when the final volume of Les Misérables was published.

A monumental French writer

Victor Hugo was born on February 26th 1802 and died May 22nd 1885. He was not only a renowned French writer, but also a committed intellectual and an outspoken politician. Join us in discovering this great man through seven French monuments that influenced his writing and work.

IT ALL BEGAN AT BESANÇON...

Let's go back in time to where it all began. On February 26th 1802, Victor Hugo was born in Besançon. He was the third son of Sophie Trebuchet and Leopold Hugo, a French general who was stationed in the city at the time.

This magnificent astronomical clock found in the Cathedral Saint-Jean de Besançon was designed by watchmaker Auguste-Lucien Vérité, a contemporary of Victor Hugo. Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral, Chimera gallery (1998) by Philippe BerthéCentre des monuments nationaux (CMN)

Follow in Victor Hugo's footsteps and discover seven remarkable French monuments that impacted his literary work and his politics: Mont-Saint-Michel, Notre-Dame de Paris, the Conciergerie, the July Column, the Column of the Grande Armée, the Arc de Triomphe and the Panthéon.

A monumental French writer

Victor Hugo was born on February 26th 1802 and died May 22nd 1885. He was not only a renowned French writer, but also a committed intellectual and an outspoken politician. Join us in discovering this great man through seven French monuments that influenced his writing and work.

A REMARKABLE WRITER

Victor Hugo is considered to be one of the most prominent French writers. While it was his novels Notre-Dame de Paris (1831) and Les Misérables (1862) that brought him his reputation, he also produced an abundance of engaging and lyrical poetic works. The theatre was no exception; Hugo was the playwright who developed the theory of romantic drama. His plays Cromwell (1827), Hernani (1830) and Ruy Blas (1838) had a great impact on the Parisian scene, and he was elected to the Académie française in 1841.

A PRECOCIOUS GENIUS

As a child, Victor Hugo traveled around Europe following his father's postings. In 1812, his parents separated and he moved to Paris with his mother. He devoted himself to writing from adolescence.

Notre-Dame de Paris: the novel rescues the monument

Hugo's novel Notre-Dame de Paris was first published in 1831 and then as the definitive version in 1832. It cleverly intertwines the lives of many characters such as Quasimodo the hunchback and bell ringer of Notre-Dame, Frollo the archdeacon, Esmeralda the gypsy and the poet Gringoire. However their surroundings, the 15th century

THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME

The character of Quasimodo is inseparable from Notre-Dame. A deformed being, he was abandoned at birth and adopted by Frollo, the archdeacon of the cathedral. He grows up in Notre-Dame, far from people and frightened by his deformity, and goes on to become the bell-ringer. After the gypsy Esmeralda has been unfairly condemned to death, he hides her inside Notre-Dame.

"One would have called him a broken giant who had been badly reassembled [...] That's Quasimodo, the bell ringer! That's Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre-Dame." Extract from Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo, 1832.

A MASTERPIECE OF LITERARY HERITAGE

The immediate and enduring success of the work means it is still one of the landmarks of French literature today. It has been translated many times and adapted for the stage, as well as in the cinema.

This engraving illustrates an edition of Notre-Dame de Paris from 1844. It shows Quasimodo lunging at Frollo, the archdeacon of the cathedral, who is threatening Esmeralda.

NOTRE-DAME: THE MAIN CHARACTER IN VICTOR HUGO'S NOVEL?

"Every face, every stone of this venerable edifice is a page not only of the history of the country but also of the history of science and art ...All is blended, combined, amalgamated in Notre-Dame. This central mother church is, among the ancient churches of Paris, a sort of chimera; it has the head of one, the limbs of another, the haunches of another, something from everywhere. » Extract from Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo, 1832.

Notre-Dame de Paris Cathedral, the Chimera gallery

(1999)by Pascal LemaîtreCentre des monuments nationaux (CMN)

NOTRE-DAME: THE MAIN CHARACTER IN VICTOR HUGO'S NOVEL?

"Every face, every stone of this venerable edifice is a page not only of the history of the country but also of the history of science and art ...All is blended, combined, amalgamated in Notre-Dame. This central mother church is, among the ancient churches of Paris, a sort of chimera; it has the head of one, the limbs of another, the haunches of another, something from everywhere. » Extract from Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo, 1832.

"There are surely few such wonderful pages in the book of Architecture as the façades of the cathedral. Here unfolding before the eye, successively and at one glance, the three deep Gothic doorways, the richly traced and sculptured band of twenty-eight royal niches. The immense central rose-window, flanked by its two lateral windows, like a priest next to the deacon and subdeacon. The lofty and fragile gallery of trifoliated arches supporting a heavy platform on its slender columns, and finally, the two dark and massive towers with their projecting slate roofs, harmonious parts of one magnificent whole, rising one above another in five gigantic stories, massed yet unconfused, in their innumerable details of statuary, sculpture, and carvings boldly allied to the impassive grandeur of the whole. A vast symphony in stone, as it were; the colossal achievement of a man and a nation one and yet complex...like the Illiad and the Romances to which it is a sister..." Extract from Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo, 1832.

Can you hear the novel Notre-Dame de Paris still resonating at the feet of the incredible cathedral?

VICTOR HUGO, HERITAGE DEFENDER

Victor Hugo's fascination for French heritage can not only be seen in the monuments present in his literary works — he also safeguarded them in real life. At the dawn of the nineteenth century there was a growing awareness in France of the revolutionary "vandalism" of ancient monuments, to which, in particular, the Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris had fallen victim. Several writers considered themselves to be witnesses to such history, such as Châteaubriant.

At the dawn of the monarchy de Juillet (1830-1848) the first heritage protection institutions were created. The art of the Middle Ages became, when viewed through history, the symbol of the genius and grandeur of France, and of the construction of national unity.

The enormous success of Victor Hugo's novel, Notre Dame de Paris, had a decisive influence on public opinion and provoked the first measures to save the monument. Hugo introduced the notion that a monument was a "Book of Stone".

The novel Notre-Dame de Paris favored the architecture of the "grave and powerful cathedral" adorned with the "dark color of centuries which gives the monuments the age of their beauty". It was therefore an accompaniment to the development of the early heritage protection institutions.

As early as 1830, an Inspector of Historic Monuments, Ludovic Vitet, was appointed to make an inventory of the ancient and medieval monuments. Four years later, Prosper Mérimée succeeded him. Both of them sat on the new "Commission des Monuments Historiques" in 1837, which allocated the designations allotted by the State.

Three years later, the "classification" of ancient monuments began, and culminated in a first "liste de 1840". In 1844, the project to restore Notre-Dame was adopted, introduced by the architects Jean-Baptiste Lassus and Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, and in the following year a financing law was voted through by the assembly.

Notre-Dame de Paris was saved.

"Assuredly the cathedral of Notre Dame de Paris is, to this day, a majestic and sublime edifice... One cannot but regret, cannot but feel indignant at the innumerable degradations and mutilations inflicted on the venerable monument, both by the action of time and the hand of man." Extract from Notre-Dame de Paris, Victor Hugo, 1832.

LA CONCIERGERIE AND VICTOR HUGO'S FIGHT AGAINST THE DEATH PENALTY

"Now I am a captive... I have only one thought, one conviction, one certitude: condemned to death. Whatever I do, that frightful thought is always here, like a spectre, beside me. " Excerpt from the Last Day of a Condemned Man, Victor Hugo, 1829.

This room in the Conciergerie, "la salle des noms", holds the list of the 4200 persons who appeared before the Revolutionary Tribunal.

The fight against the death penalty goes further than Victor Hugo's writing. Beyond this novel, he also assumed one of his many political roles.

Elected deputy in 1848, Hugo returned to the Conciergerie to visit the cells of those condemned. The narrative was published posthumously in the collection Choses vues, a compilation of works about the great events that marked his life.

In November 1851, Hugo opposed Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, the future Napoleon III, and was imprisoned in the Conciergerie himself, before going into exile in Belgium. He did not return to France until the fall of the Second Empire.

The July Column: the Paris of Les Misérables and the barricades

Today, the Place de la Bastille cannot be appreciated without its definitive commemorative column, topped by the Génie de la Liberté (the Spirit of Freedom). However this was not the case when Victor Hugo began writing Les Misérables.

Victor Hugo statue, in front of Sorbonne Univer... (1900) by Marqueste, Laurent-honoré (1848-1920)Centre des monuments nationaux (CMN) Victor Hugo: A monumental French writer

An exhibition created by the Centre des monuments nationaux to celebrate the anniversary of when the final volume of Les Misérables was published. A monumental French writer

Victor Hugo was born on February 26th 1802 and died May 22nd 1885. He was not only a renowned French writer, but also a committed intellectual and an outspoken politician. Join us in discovering this great man through seven French monuments that influenced his writing and work. Victor Hugo statue, Paris (1902) by Barrias, Louis-Ernest (1841-1905) Centre des monuments nationaux (CMN) Astronomical clock of Besancon Cathedral Centre des monuments nationaux (CMN)

IT ALL BEGAN AT BESANÇON...

Let's go back in time to where it all began. On February 26th 1802, Victor Hugo was born in Besançon. He was the third son of Sophie Trebuchet and Leopold Hugo, a French general who was stationed in the city at the time.

This magnificent astronomical clock found in the Cathedral Saint-Jean de Besançon was designed by watchmaker Auguste-Lucien Vérité, a contemporary of Victor Hugo. Notre-Dame de Paris cathedral, Chimera gallery (1998) by Philippe BerthéCentre des monuments nationaux (CMN)

Follow in Victor Hugo's footsteps and discover seven remarkable French monuments that impacted his literary work and his politics: Mont-Saint-Michel, Notre-Dame de Paris, the Conciergerie, the July Column, the Column of the Grande Armée, the Arc de Triomphe and the Panthéon.

AN IMMENSE WRITER OF MANY ROLES

The 700,000 visitors who come to see Victor Hugo's tomb at the Pantheon every year think, above all else, of what an immense writer he had been. But it was also his commitment to the politics of his time that justified, in 1885, the grandiose homage that the Republic paid him.

Victor Hugo was not always a republican. A legitimist during the Restoration and orleanist during the reign of Louis Philippe, the 2nd of December 1851 coup d'etat made him join the detractors of Napoleon III and embrace the cause of the Republic. For this, and his hostility towards the Second Empire, he underwent nineteen years of exile on the Channel Islands of Jersey and Guernsey, which completed the forging of his legend. But the strength of Victor Hugo also lies in his use of the voice of combat that still resonates universally today, as well as in his commitment against the death penalty.

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How Many Did You Take? How Many, My Angel? ***TRIGGER WARNING***

Woohoo is one of my oldest friends. She’s an ordained Wiccan priestess and performed the marriage ceremony for my second husband and me. She’s been my spiritual advisor and counselor since before I was old enough to drink, and I’m 34 now.

Before I was diagnosed with BPD, back when I hit the Big Red Button (the one that says - DO NOT TOUCH because the consequences are catastrophic) on my life, Woohoo was still there for me. I was obviously going insane, up and leaving my 13-year marriage with my then 35-year-old husband and my 14-year-old daughter, Moon, and my house and my entire existence to move in with Gypsy, a 33-year-old failed musician-turned-gamer who lived with his mother and had no job, education, hope for his future, or even basic social skills, where I immediately began a life of weird, unsatisfying, and infrequent sex, binge drinking, and running from past and present trauma-drama. On a positive note, I became a teacher again, a fulfilling experience speaking to my soul, as I am a teacher in more than just career, but completely mentally incapable of taking care of myself, much less a group of 17 8-year-olds, and became overworked, exhausted, and an emotional hurricane in a matter of months.

But between the Big Red Button and the hurricane was a time of destruction and devastation where I used the fires of my own personal hell to burn every possible bridge to my old life that I could, many of them badly in need of burning, as I would never return to walk them again, but others, like the Bridge to Woohoo, one of the few structures still anchoring my rapidly deteriorating mind in reality. Woohoo never traumatized me. She never hurt me. She never sought to control me. But the night I lost my daughter Moon and what remained of my ability to cope with the pain I was experiencing, in my grief and despair, she became just another representation of that trauma, and in the days that followed surviving my suicide attempt (notice I did not say my first suicide attempt) she became one of several targets of my BPD-strengthened rage at that long-buried trauma, a casualty of Hurricane Biscuit, although I was still more of a Tropical Storm back then.

Woohoo is a force of nature herself at times. Just as crazy, just as sarcastic, just as devastating a wit as myself, Woohoo brings with her a kind of controlled chaos, a tornado-in-a-bottle personality, ready to let loose a barrage of her own hellfire if the mood strikes her, but mostly just fun, easy-going, patient, a breeze that could whip up into a frenzied tornado if the mood strikes, but content at the moment just to enjoy the current. Voluptuous, sex-driven, raven-haired, loud-mouthed, and profane could all be used to describe her accurately, as accurately as kind, generous, soulful, and motherly.

I no longer believe in soulmates, but I do believe we have, say, connected souls, and as much as anyone I’ve ever met, she is one of my connected souls. And yet, when she stepped up to do what needed to be done to save my life, I turned my back on her.

She warned me about Gypsy. Told me there was something “not right ‘bout that boy,” in her Oklahoma twang. They had an immediate dislike of each other, Gypsy and Woohoo. Gypsy called her a man-hating feminist. Woohoo called him a lazy, worthless piece of shit, among other things. Neither of them were wrong.

My response to her warnings, over and over again, like a love-struck teenager fawning over a, well, a worthless piece of shit, was a protesting, “But, I love him, Woohoo! He’s my one and only.” (I am now picturing myself striking a dramatic pose, forearm to my forehead, turning away and looking plaintively out the window into a setting sun, while declaring that she just wouldn’t understand.)

I blatantly ignored the mounting evidence that this pairing would only leave me broken and broke, and continued blissfully unaware along my journey of self-destruction, orchestrating a series of events that would leave me running from my home, my marriage, my family. I’m not saying I should have been leaving these things, at least the marriage and the home, but I shouldn’t have been running towards Gypsy, of all people. Woohoo would have been a better choice. She did offer me a place to live, a chance to “get my shit together” in a relatively peaceful environment, free for a few months at least from financial worry, a safe haven to start anew. Meanwhile, I waved merrily from my car window as I drove away, hollering, “Nah, I got this!” as I hauled ass down her driveway, blaring Gypsy’s music at full blast and heading back to the city, to his mother’s house and the tiny 10x10 room that was to be my new prison of my own making for the next several months.

Meanwhile, still unable to communicate the massive amount of emotional stress and pain I was under to anyone, my mind began bringing all my fears and the traumas of my past to bear, forcing me to deal with them however I could. Financially, I was surviving, barely, in no small part to Woohoo herself, who kept my business running mostly smoothly as the day-to-day operations manager, supplying me with a steady income even when I wasn’t actively working.

My ex-husband meanwhile had no intention of patiently waiting out my midlife crisis, immediately replacing the vacated space in our marriage bed with the first woman who would tumble into it. He convinced Moon that my mental state was due to the fact that I was a bad person who did not love her, and therefore she had no need to further associate herself with me.

The day I received that smug text message from him, superior in his position as head of a new family to control, I gave up. Oh, not without setting a few more fires of course, screaming and stamping my foot and using whatever means I could to manipulate my ex-husband into returning my daughter to me, letting me hear her voice, even if it meant terrifying a complete stranger, his new bed buddy, into thinking I was going to share photos of her in lingerie with the world. And where did I get these photos? Oh, Mr. Manipulation himself had provided those just days before when he was so very interested in seeing if I would join them for a threesome. But, that’s another story for another day.

After several hours of realizing that torturing Mr. M and and the future Mrs. M was not going to get me my daughter, my emotions spiraled me into a well of despair that I was not capable of pulling myself out of. I seized upon a bottle of pills, a prescription Mr. M procured from his doctor that I had been told was for helping me with anxiety from my ADHD, but in fact were mood-altering antidepressants that, when prescribed incorrectly, could lead to suicidal ideation.

Google is a useful source for immediate access to the LD50 of literally anything. LD50 is the amount of a medication that will, when consumed, lead to death in 50% of the population of those who take it. The LD50 for this particular medication was 15 pills. I had 30. While texting Woohoo, Mr. M, and the future Mrs. M., telling them my intentions unless they returned my daughter to me, I began counting out 15 pills. I continued the threats as I used the Everclear under Gypsy's bed (where he was currently snoring after taking a dose of Benadryl after a long weekend of my emotional drama), to swallow them one by one. At eight pills, Woohoo warned me that she was calling the police. Hours away from my location, she would never arrive in time herself to stop me. She did the only the she could to prevent my death at my own hands - she narced on me.

At ten pills, for some reason, Gypsy stirred in his allergy-med-induced coma, and seeing me swallow the tenth, realized what was happening. He took the pills away as I screamed at him, “Just five more, please, just five more!” while he screamed back at me, “How many did you take? How many, my Angel?” (Gypsy didn’t call me Biscuit. No one did at this time, actually.) After counting and recounting, doing his own internet search, and counting once more, he sighed with relief, realizing I’d only taken enough to give myself a stomach ache.

My sobs had subsided at this point, and I sat in stony silence as Gypsy stared at me, seemingly in shock at how close I had come to leaving his life, and my own, at my own hand. Then one of those loud knocks that apparently policemen are trained in, one that can echo through a house to the back of a bedroom and enter into even the fevered dreams of a hallucinating woman who just wanted to be happy, smoke weed, and eat a chocolate bar in peace, sounded through the house, setting Gypsy's mom’s chocolate labs off in a frenzied bark as well as my wails of panic.

“Tell them I’m okay, Gypsy. Please, tell them I’m okay. Tell them she lied. Tell them they lied. Can I stay here? I’m so scared, Gypsy.” With an irritated sigh, he put his khaki shorts on over his boxers, pulled me gently to my feet, and guided me to the door. “No, you’ve got to talk to them. They’re going to want to see you.”

As if I was a frightened toddler meeting Santa for the first time, he guided me to the front door. In my head, I was psyching myself up. “You can do this, Biscuit. Just act normal. Act normal. Be angry. If you’re angry, you can’t be sad. If you’re angry, you won’t cry.”

After a heated discussion between me and the cops, a worried discussion between the cops and Gypsy, and phone calls and screenshots of my texts to Woohoo and Mr. and Mrs. M. between the cops and Woohoo, it was decided that it would be in my best interest if I was detained involuntarily at a mental institution for a three-day psych hold.

In the front yard of a house I had only recently moved into, in front of people I barely knew, in front of my beloved Gypsy, I was handcuffed, crying and scared. As the cuffs clicked into place, I could see Gypsy at the front door, watching behind the glass, mouthing, “I love you,” across the void separating me from the only vaguely familiar thing left in my life. Physically, I was being kept safe, but I was being traumatized all over again, my hands behind my back all over again, forced to do something I didn’t want to do all over again.

But what else could Woohoo do? Physical safety trumped mental safety. I could never be mentally safe again unless I was kept physically safe now. At the time, I couldn’t see that. At the time, all I felt was fear and anger. For someone with BPD, fear and anger are terror and rage.

By the time I was released from my prison 48 hours later (instead of 72, as apparently I wasn’t that crazy), my mind had been fueled by this terror and rage for days, consuming my thoughts completely. Unable to turn that rage onto the people who had hurt me, I instead hurled it at Woohoo, now the sole symbol remaining of that night. I stripped her from the business, allowing Gypsy to spew venom through social media as the new voice of the company, coming to my defense as Woohoo tried to warn our contractors that there was something seriously wrong with my mental stability now.

In my gathering momentum of destruction, I decided to strike one more blow against my former friend, business partner, and soul sister: I refused to pay her. I kept her final paycheck, using it instead to shower Gypsy with books and games, gifts for his loyalty perhaps. Meanwhile, Woohoo, still in shock over my behavior thus far, now had to figure out how to make ends meet without the money she was owed, how to provide for my own godchildren, her sweet son and daughter, now just that much shorter of being able to cover expenses.

The only wise decision I made in those days was enrolling in counseling. But of course, showing up to the first session did not instantly make me see what I had done and was continuing to do. That would take time, more self-destruction, more mistakes, more trauma, and finally, finally -- partly due to that first step and the hard work of a southern Biscuit, partly due to the luck of finding her Gravy -- peace.

#bpd #bpd thoughts #actually bpd #bpd problems #bpd feels #borderline personality disorder #actually borderline #being borderline #borderline problems #journal #journey #suicide #friends #southern #crazytrain #ptsd recovery #recovery #ptsd #complex ptsd #ptsdlife #ptsdsurvivor #midlifecrisis #midlifewomen #trauma #mental health #mentally ill #mental disorder #depression #my life #life

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Ginger Quotes

Official Website: Ginger Quotes

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• A Christian might drink only ginger ale at the tavern bar, but there he is already on the way to drinking beer and whiskey. The girl who attends a ball but never dances a step, will soon surrender her body to the lustful embrace of every casual male acquaintance as other dancers do. – John R. Rice • After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels. – Ann Richards • And then there were cats, thought Dog. He’d surprised the huge ginger cat from next door and had attempted to reduce it to cowering jelly by means of the usual glowing stare and deep-throated growl, which had always worked on the damned in the past. This time they had earned him a whack on the nose that had made his eyes water. Cats, Dog considered, were clearly a lot tougher than lost souls. He was looking forward to a further cat experiment, which he planned would consist of jumping around and yapping excitedly at it. It was a long shot, but it just might work. – Terry Pratchett • Are you not aware that my profession involves beating the living hell out of some poor-unfortunate wearing nothing more than a pair of green lycra knicks? I’m practically naked each time I step in the ring. But I tend to cover up my privates in public. No one likes ginger pubes. – Sheamus • As a dancer I couldn’t outdance Ginger Rogers or Eleanor Powell. As a singer I’m no rival to Doris Day. As an actress I don’t take myself seriously…I’m the girl the truck drivers love. – Betty Grable • As Gloria Steinem said about Ginger Rogers: She was doing everything Fred Astaire was doing, just doing it backwards in high heels. Well, Southern women are doing and enduring what other women have to do and endure, but (at least until recently) they had to do it in heels and hats and white gloves and makeup and a sweet smile, with maybe a glass of bourbon and a cigarette to get them through the magnolia part of being a steel magnolia. – Michael Malone

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Ginger', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_ginger').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_ginger img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Because we are human, because we are bound by gravity and the limitations of our bodies, because we live in a world where the news is often bad and the prospects disturbing, there is a need for another world somewhere, a world where Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers live. – Roger Ebert • Being a singer now I have to get all fussy… I must have my ginger and lemon and all that. – Graham Coxon • ‘E’s all’ot sand an’ ginger when alive, An”e’s generally shammin’ when’e’s dead. – Rudyard Kipling • Fireheart was interrupted by a screech from Cloudtail. “Fireheart! Fireheart, Brightpaw isn’t dead!” Fireheart spun around and raced across the clearing to crouch beside Brightpaw. Her white-and-ginger fur, which, she had always kept so neatly groomed, was spiky with drying blood. On one side of her face the fur was torn away, and there was blood where her eye should have been. One ear had been shredded, and there were huge claw marks scored across her muzzle. – Erin Hunter

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Gimme a visky with a ginger ale on the side – and don’t be stinchy, beby. – Greta Garbo • Ginger Rogers was one of the worst, red-baiting, terrifying reactionaries in Hollywood. – Joseph Losey • He boils milk with fresh ginger, a quarter of a vanilla bean, and tea that is so dark and fine-leaved that it looks like black dust. He strains it and puts cane sugar in both our cups. There’s something euphorically invigorating and yet filling about it. It tastes the way I imagine the Far East must taste. – Peter Høeg • He’s of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger…. he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts. – William Shakespeare • I always have a beard between jobs. I just let it grow until they pay me to shave it. People are quite surprised it’s ginger. Sometimes they ask me if dye my hair and I always say ‘Wow, no!’ I’m ‘trans-ginger.’ – James McAvoy • I bought one of those anti-bullying wristbands when they first came out. I say ‘bought’, I actually stole it off a short, fat ginger kid. – Jack Whitehall • I drink a lot of everything; beer while watching football. I have a taste for whiskey, but Jack Daniels and ginger is about as fancy as it gets with me. – Jeff Gannon • I grew up watching old musicals and seeing Ginger Rogers wearing a beautiful fitted bodice that had ostrich feathers. I love how it moved when she danced. Theatrical pieces like that stayed with me. I wanted to grow up to wear those kinds of things. – Gina Torres • I have been wearing black, which was a reaction to the Ginger thing. But now I have hopes and I can be anything. Tomorrow I might be naked with a feather boa, who knows? – Geri Halliwell • I have to be a ginger for 3 weeks. – Katy Perry • I haven’t shaved my private parts, but I dyed them once for a laugh! They looked more ginger, though! – Lee Ryan • I loved old black and white movies, especially the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers musicals. I loved everything about them – the songs, the music, the romance and the spectacle. They were real class and I knew that I wanted to be in that world. – Sharon Stone • I personally don’t think ginger men have a habit of being attractive. We have to make ourselves seem attractive by doing stuff. – Ed Sheeran • I put out a good 10 different types of drinks for them and they just said, “Oh, okay, so it’s just one choice.” One choice? I gave you Coke, Pepsi, Ginger Ale, Sprite. They saw that as one choice. Now why was that one choice? Because they felt, well, it was just all soda. – Sheena Iyengar • I really enjoy making dinner for my kids and my husband – chopping ginger and marinating the tofu. – Sadie Frost • I’d love to play Neil Kinnock. Because of my ginger hair, I thought that was a possibility. He’s a hero and a villain in most people’s eyes, but I’d like to do that, I think I’d be right for it. – Jason Flemyng • If I could eat only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be rhubarb fool, which I make with ginger and a hint of elderflower cordial. – Sebastian Faulks • If I had to rate myself between one and 10? If you’re a gingerist and like ginger guys, I guess I’m a seven, with make-up on maybe an eight. If you’re not a gingerist, I’m probably a six, six and a half. – Jason Flemyng • If there is one thing of which I am most proud, it’s that I made being ginger cool! – Rupert Grint • I’ll always be the ginger one from Harry Potter. – Rupert Grint • I’m ginger, so it’s hard to rate me – Jason Flemyng • I’m half Scottish, half Welsh and I regard red hair as perfectly ordinary. And to set the record straight, contrary to reports, he has never referred to himself as the ‘Ginger Ninja’. – Helen McCrory • I’m just some irritating, lying, ginger kid from Cornwall who should have been locked up in some youth detention centre. I just managed to escape and blag it into music. – Aphex Twin • I’m out here to represent the gingers, the gypsies, and the outcasts. Because I am all of the above, and I’m all about having a great time. – Neon Hitch • I’m quite sexy – if you like gingers. – Jason Flemyng • I’m so proud to be part of Harry Potter and even prouder to be representing the gingers. – Rupert Grint • In England we burnt redheads at the stake, because we thought they were witches. There are still young redheads in Britain getting ripped for having red hair. ‘Oy, Ginger!’ – Damian Lewis • Inside my heart, there’s a 12-year-old girl who has always wanted to be Ginger Rogers. – Samantha Bond • I’ve always been quite a proud ginger so I couldn’t dye it and betray the other gingers. – Rupert Grint • I’ve had years of teasing about my red hair, but I definitely think it toughened me up. If you’re ginger, you end up pretty quick-witted. – Ed Sheeran • I’ve never had food in my fridge. All I have in my fridge is one shelf of Canada Dry ginger ale, Diet Cokes on the next shelf, and ZeroWater on the next shelf. That is it. – Brigid Berlin • Jamaica has the best coffee, the best sugar, the best ginger and some of the best cocoa in the world. – Chris Blackwell • Last time I was sick, the guy I was seeing brought me a bottle of ginger ale… and expected me to pay him back for it. ~Jaime Vegas – Kelley Armstrong • Money can’t buy you love, but it can get you some really good chocolate ginger biscuits. – Dylan Moran • My dog, Ginger, is jumpy-like me-sensitive to sound and sudden movement. She wasn’t that way at first, but not long after we got her, my grandfather told me to stand still outside and hold her leash tight. Then he shot a gun off by our feet, several times. “This is how girls learn to obey,” he said, “how to be seen and not heard.” – Mira Bartok • My father said once that if I didn’t have my mother’s ginger hair, I wouldn’t blush or curse as easily. Which I though was unfair. I hardly ever curse or blush, even though I’ve had plenty of days that required both. – Maggie Stiefvater • My favorite ginger is Prince Harry! – Andy Cohen • My fridge is really just vegan: coconut water, Gatorade (my favorite!), cucumbers, mint, kale, vegetables, ginger, and wheat grass. – Serena Williams • My ginger tabby cat Oscar – he’s got his own passport – he comes everywhere with me. – Ashley Madekwe • My husband calls me a ginger every single day of my life, so that Im completely used to it, and Ive come to see it as a term of endearment. – Jayma Mays • My mother told me I was dancing before I was born. She could feel my toes tapping wildly inside her for months. – Ginger Rogers • Nose, nose, jolly red nose,And who gave thee that jolly red nose?Nutmegs and ginger, cinammon and cloves;And they gave me this jolly red nose. – Francis Beaumont • Now, many of us in the Labour Party are conservationists – and we all love the red squirrel. But there is one ginger rodent which we never want to see again – Danny Alexander. – Harriet Harman • Of course, Ginger was able to accomplish sex through dance. We told more through our movements instead of the big clinch. We did it all in the dance. – Fred Astaire • Oh, God, I’m so lonely. An entire weekend streching ahead with no one to love or have fun with. Anyway, I don’t care. I’ve got a lovely steamed ginger pudding from M&S to put in the microwave. – Helen Fielding • Only a ginger, can call another ginger Ginger. – Tim Minchin • Power is all. Another falsification; I do not tell how I gain or maintain it. I only record the ginger stroll through the vaguely fetid garden of its rewards. – Samuel R. Delany • Prepare a little hot tea or broth and it should be brought to them . . . without their being asked if they would care for it. Those who are in great distress want no food, but if it is handed to them, they will mechanically take it ‘ … There was something arresting about the matter-of-fact wisdom here, the instinctive understanding of the physiological disruptions… I will not forget the instinctive wisdom of the friend who, every day for those first few weeks, brought me a quart container of scallion-and-ginger congee from Chinatown. Congee I could eat. Congee was all I could eat. – Joan Didion • Right now Jack lives with me. Jack is my Jack Russell. I also have a Yorkie named Ginger, but Jack and Ginger can’t be in the same place at the same time because she is very jealous. Even if Jack’s not in the same state, she would growl if she heard his name. – Mariah Carey • Scholes was playing tiki-taka football when nobody in England knew what it was. He was another of those players, like Denis Law or Bobby Moore, who at 15 probably looked as if he wouldn’t make it. Too small, you would think – can’t run, dumpy little ginger nut – but then the ball would come to him and he would dazzle you. He was the best footballer in that Manchester United midfield, better than Ryan Giggs and Roy Keane. – Harry Redknapp • The only time I feel pressured is when some woman’s husband comes over and says, “Will you go ask my wife to dance? She’s a great dancer and would just love to dance with you.”Suddenly there’s a crowd of people standing around us and they expect that they’re about to see Fred and Ginger. Here the woman and I have just met, and these people think that it’s showtime. That is the only time I think it is really embarrassing. – Gene Kelly • The only way to enjoy anything in this life is to earn it first. – Ginger Rogers • The real color of my hair is mouse. I always want to be ginger, which I was when I was born, or blond, because I live in L.A., and I want to look like I go surfing without any physical effort. – John Lydon • The things that brought me the most comfort now were too small to list. Raspberries in cream. Sparrows with cocked heads. Shadows of bare limbs making for sidewalk filigrees. Roses past their prime with their petals loose about them. The shouts of children at play in the neighborhood, Ginger Rogers on the black-and-white screen. – Elizabeth Berg • There was never any question about Scholesy’s quality as a footballer. He was known as the little ginger magician in the youth team. Some reckon he’s the best United player of the modern era, and there’s a case for saying that. You don’t hear him blowing his own trumpet, though – he just gets on with his job. He’s the real deal. – Steve Bruce • Was that Will?” she said finally. Henry arched one ginger eyebrow. “Perhaps he’s been kidnapped and replaced by an automaton,” he suggested. “It seems possible…” For once Charlotte could only find herself in agreement. – Cassandra Clare • We live thetime that a match flickers; we pop the corkof a ginger-beer bottle, and the earthquake swallows us on the instant. Is it not odd, is it not incongruous, is it not, in the highest sense of human speech, incredible, that we should think so highly of the ginger-beer, and regard so little the devouring earthquake? – Robert Louis Stevenson • What kind of tea do you want?” “There´s more than one kind of tea?…What do you have?” “Let´s see… Blueberry, Raspberry, Ginseng, Sleepytime, Green Tea, Green Tea with Lemon, Green Tea with Lemon and Honey, Liver Disaster, Ginger with Honey, Ginger Without Honey, Vanilla Almond, White Truffle Coconut, Chamomile, Blueberry Chamomile, Decaf Vanilla Walnut, Constant Comment and Earl Grey.” -“I.. Uh…What are you having?… Did you make some of those up? – Bryan Lee O’Malley • What’s all this talk about me being teamed with Ginger Rogers? I will not have it Leland–I did not go into pictures to be teamed with her or anyone else, and if that is the program in mind for me I will not stand for it. I don’t mind making another picture with her but as for this teams idea, it’s out. – Ginger Rogers • When Ginger Rogers danced with Astaire, it was the only time in the movies when you looked at the man, not the woman. – Gene Kelly • When I realised I had a facility for humour, I latched on to it, and it gave me confidence and I built my personality around it. So I subconsciously made myself become the funny one so that would be my label rather than the ginger one or the red-faced one. – Catherine Tate • When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors. – Jeffrey Eugenides • When I was a little kid I always wanted to be ginger. My best friend was ginger and he was pretty cool. – Noel Fielding • When I was younger, I definitely did face anti-ginger prejudice. As a child, all teasing hurts, whether it’s because you’re fat or a different race or have red hair. I had enough comments from a couple of people to make it a sore point. – Lily Cole • When I’m off the road, and I can really control my diet down to the calorie, I juice seven days a week. Every afternoon, whatever I have at hand, beets, carrots, ginger, whatever. I juice, literally, every single day. And on the road, I try to find fresh juice wherever I can. – Henry Rollins • When two people love each other, they don’t look at each other, they look in the same direction. – Ginger Rogers • When you have a Dancing partner, there’s always gonna be a moment where the girl’s gonna cry, Ginger didn’t do that. But, most every other girl I’ve worked with have cried because they said “aah, I can’t do it” and I have to go “Yes, you can, Shut up!” and they do do it. – Fred Astaire • Whoever takes just plain ginger ale soon gets drowned out of the conversation. – Kin Hubbard

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[blackkudos]

George Benson

George Benson (born March 22, 1943) is an American musician, guitarist and singer-songwriter. He began his professional career at 21 as a jazz guitarist. Benson uses a rest-stroke picking technique similar to that of gypsy jazz players such as Django Reinhardt.

A former child prodigy, Benson first came to prominence in the 1960s, playing soul jazz with Jack McDuff and others. He then launched a successful solo career, alternating between jazz, pop, R&B singing, and scat singing. His album Breezin' was certified triple-platinum, hitting no. 1 on the Billboard album chart in 1976. His concerts were well attended through the 1980s, and he still has a large following. He has received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

Biography

Early career

Benson was born and raised in the Hill District in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. At the age of seven, he first played the ukulele in a corner drug store, for which he was paid a few dollars. At the age of eight, he played guitar in an unlicensed nightclub on Friday and Saturday nights, but the police soon closed the club down. At the age of 10, he recorded his first single record, "She Makes Me Mad", with RCA-Victor in New York, under the name "Little Georgie".

Benson attended and graduated from Schenley High School. As a youth he learned how to play straight-ahead instrumental jazz during a relationship performing for several years with organist Jack McDuff. One of his many early guitar heroes was country-jazz guitarist Hank Garland. At the age of 21, he recorded his first album as leader, The New Boss Guitar, featuring McDuff. Benson's next recording was It's Uptown with the George Benson Quartet, including Lonnie Smith on organ and Ronnie Cuber on baritone saxophone. Benson followed it up with The George Benson Cookbook, also with Lonnie Smith and Ronnie Cuber on baritone and drummer Marion Booker. Miles Davis employed Benson in the mid-1960s, featuring his guitar on "Paraphernalia" on his 1968 Columbia release, Miles in the Sky before going to Verve Records.

Benson then signed with Creed Taylor's jazz label CTI Records, where he recorded several albums, with jazz heavyweights guesting, to some success, mainly in the jazz field. His 1974 release, Bad Benson, climbed to the top spot in the Billboard jazz chart, while the follow-ups, Good King Bad (#51 Pop album) and Benson and Farrell (with Joe Farrell), both reached the jazz top-three sellers. Benson also did a version of The Beatles's 1969 album Abbey Road called The Other Side of Abbey Road, also released in 1969, and a version of "White Rabbit", originally written and recorded by San Francisco rock group Great Society, and made famous by Jefferson Airplane. Benson played on numerous sessions for other CTI artists during this time, including Freddie Hubbard and Stanley Turrentine, notably on the latter's acclaimed album Sugar.

1970s and 1980s

By the mid- to late-1970s, as he recorded for Warner Bros. Records, a whole new audience began to discover Benson. With the 1976 release Breezin', Benson sang a lead vocal on the track "This Masquerade", which became a huge pop hit and won a Grammy Award for Record of the Year. (He had sung vocals infrequently on albums earlier in his career, notably his rendition of "Here Comes the Sun" on the Other Side of Abbey Road album.) The rest of the album is instrumental, including his rendition of the 1975 Jose Feliciano composition "Affirmation".

In 1976, Benson toured with soul singer Minnie Riperton, who had been diagnosed with terminal breast cancer earlier that year. Also in 1976, George Benson appeared as a guitarist and backup vocalist on Stevie Wonder's song "Another Star" from Wonder's album Songs in the Key of Life. He also recorded the original version of "The Greatest Love of All" for the 1977 Muhammad Ali bio-pic, The Greatest, which was later covered by Whitney Houston as "Greatest Love of All". During this time Benson recorded with the German conductor Claus Ogerman. The live take of "On Broadway", recorded a few months later from the 1978 release Weekend in L.A., also won a Grammy. He has worked with Freddie Hubbard on a number of his albums throughout the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s.

The Qwest record label (a subsidiary of Warner Bros., run by Quincy Jones) released Benson's breakthrough pop album Give Me The Night, produced by Jones. Benson made it into the pop and R&B top ten with the song "Give Me the Night" (written by former Heatwave keyboardist Rod Temperton). He got many hit singles such as "Love All the Hurt Away", "Turn Your Love Around", "Inside Love", "Lady Love Me", "20/20", "Shiver", "Kisses in the Moonlight". More importantly, Quincy Jones encouraged Benson to search his roots for further vocal inspiration, and he re-discovered his love for Nat Cole, Ray Charles and Donny Hathaway in the process, influencing a string of further vocal albums into the 1990s. Despite returning to his jazz and guitar playing most recently, this theme was reflected again much later in Benson's 2000 release Absolute Benson, featuring a cover of one of Hathaway's most notable songs, "The Ghetto". Benson accumulated three other platinum LPs and two gold albums.

1990s to present

In 1985, Benson and guitarist Chet Atkins went on the smooth jazz charts with their collaboration "Sunrise", one of two songs from the duo released on Atkins' Stay Tuned album. In 1992, Benson appeared on Jack McDuff's Colour Me Blue album, his first appearance on a Concord album. Benson signed with Concord Records in 2005 and toured with Al Jarreau in America, South Africa, Australia and New Zealand to promote their 2006 multiple Grammy-winning album Givin' It Up.

To commemorate the long-term relationship between Benson and Ibanez and to celebrate 30 years of collaboration on the GB Signature Models, Ibanez created the GB30TH, a very limited-edition model featuring a gold-foil finish inspired by the traditional Japanese Garahaku art form. In 2009, Benson was recognized by the National Endowment of the Arts as a Jazz Master, the nation's highest honor in jazz. Benson performed at the 49th issue of the Ohrid Summer Festival in Macedonia on July 25, 2009, and his tribute show to Nat King Cole An Unforgettable Tribute to Nat King Cole as part of the Istanbul International Jazz Festival in Turkey on July 27. In the fall of 2009, Benson finished recording a new album entitled Songs and Stories, with Marcus Miller, producer John Burk, and session musicians David Paich and Steve Lukather. As a part of the promotion for his recent Concord Music Group/Monster Music release Songs and Stories, Benson has appeared and/or performed on The Tavis Smiley Show, Jimmy Kimmel Live! and Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

Benson toured throughout 2010 in North America, Europe and the Pacific Rim, including an appearance at the Singapore Sun Festival. He performed at the Java Jazz Festival March 4–6, 2011. In 2011, Benson released the album Guitar Man—revisiting his 1960s/early-1970s guitar-playing roots with a 12-song collection of covers of both jazz and pop standards overseen by producer John Burk.

In June 2013, Benson released his fourth album for Concord Records, Inspiration: A Tribute to Nat King Cole, which featured Wynton Marsalis, Idina Menzel, Till Brönner, and Judith Hill. In September, he returned to perform at Rock in Rio festival, in Rio de Janeiro, 35 years after his first performance at this festival, which was then the inaugural one.

In July 2016, Benson participated as a mentor in the Sky Arts programme Guitar Star in the search for the UK and Republic of Ireland’s most talented guitarist.

Personal life

Benson has been married to Johnnie Lee since 1965. Benson describes his music as focusing more on love and romance. He is a Jehovah's Witness.

Wikipedia

#George Benson #03-22

[equitiesstocks]

Ginger Quotes

Official Website: Ginger Quotes

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• A Christian might drink only ginger ale at the tavern bar, but there he is already on the way to drinking beer and whiskey. The girl who attends a ball but never dances a step, will soon surrender her body to the lustful embrace of every casual male acquaintance as other dancers do. – John R. Rice • After all, Ginger Rogers did everything that Fred Astaire did. She just did it backwards and in high heels. – Ann Richards • And then there were cats, thought Dog. He’d surprised the huge ginger cat from next door and had attempted to reduce it to cowering jelly by means of the usual glowing stare and deep-throated growl, which had always worked on the damned in the past. This time they had earned him a whack on the nose that had made his eyes water. Cats, Dog considered, were clearly a lot tougher than lost souls. He was looking forward to a further cat experiment, which he planned would consist of jumping around and yapping excitedly at it. It was a long shot, but it just might work. – Terry Pratchett • Are you not aware that my profession involves beating the living hell out of some poor-unfortunate wearing nothing more than a pair of green lycra knicks? I’m practically naked each time I step in the ring. But I tend to cover up my privates in public. No one likes ginger pubes. – Sheamus • As a dancer I couldn’t outdance Ginger Rogers or Eleanor Powell. As a singer I’m no rival to Doris Day. As an actress I don’t take myself seriously…I’m the girl the truck drivers love. – Betty Grable • As Gloria Steinem said about Ginger Rogers: She was doing everything Fred Astaire was doing, just doing it backwards in high heels. Well, Southern women are doing and enduring what other women have to do and endure, but (at least until recently) they had to do it in heels and hats and white gloves and makeup and a sweet smile, with maybe a glass of bourbon and a cigarette to get them through the magnolia part of being a steel magnolia. – Michael Malone

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Ginger', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_ginger').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_ginger img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Because we are human, because we are bound by gravity and the limitations of our bodies, because we live in a world where the news is often bad and the prospects disturbing, there is a need for another world somewhere, a world where Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers live. – Roger Ebert • Being a singer now I have to get all fussy… I must have my ginger and lemon and all that. – Graham Coxon • ‘E’s all’ot sand an’ ginger when alive, An”e’s generally shammin’ when’e’s dead. – Rudyard Kipling • Fireheart was interrupted by a screech from Cloudtail. “Fireheart! Fireheart, Brightpaw isn’t dead!” Fireheart spun around and raced across the clearing to crouch beside Brightpaw. Her white-and-ginger fur, which, she had always kept so neatly groomed, was spiky with drying blood. On one side of her face the fur was torn away, and there was blood where her eye should have been. One ear had been shredded, and there were huge claw marks scored across her muzzle. – Erin Hunter

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling] • Gimme a visky with a ginger ale on the side – and don’t be stinchy, beby. – Greta Garbo • Ginger Rogers was one of the worst, red-baiting, terrifying reactionaries in Hollywood. – Joseph Losey • He boils milk with fresh ginger, a quarter of a vanilla bean, and tea that is so dark and fine-leaved that it looks like black dust. He strains it and puts cane sugar in both our cups. There’s something euphorically invigorating and yet filling about it. It tastes the way I imagine the Far East must taste. – Peter Høeg • He’s of the colour of the nutmeg. And of the heat of the ginger…. he is pure air and fire; and the dull elements of earth and water never appear in him, but only in patient stillness while his rider mounts him; he is indeed a horse, and all other jades you may call beasts. – William Shakespeare • I always have a beard between jobs. I just let it grow until they pay me to shave it. People are quite surprised it’s ginger. Sometimes they ask me if dye my hair and I always say ‘Wow, no!’ I’m ‘trans-ginger.’ – James McAvoy • I bought one of those anti-bullying wristbands when they first came out. I say ‘bought’, I actually stole it off a short, fat ginger kid. – Jack Whitehall • I drink a lot of everything; beer while watching football. I have a taste for whiskey, but Jack Daniels and ginger is about as fancy as it gets with me. – Jeff Gannon • I grew up watching old musicals and seeing Ginger Rogers wearing a beautiful fitted bodice that had ostrich feathers. I love how it moved when she danced. Theatrical pieces like that stayed with me. I wanted to grow up to wear those kinds of things. – Gina Torres • I have been wearing black, which was a reaction to the Ginger thing. But now I have hopes and I can be anything. Tomorrow I might be naked with a feather boa, who knows? – Geri Halliwell • I have to be a ginger for 3 weeks. – Katy Perry • I haven’t shaved my private parts, but I dyed them once for a laugh! They looked more ginger, though! – Lee Ryan • I loved old black and white movies, especially the Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers musicals. I loved everything about them – the songs, the music, the romance and the spectacle. They were real class and I knew that I wanted to be in that world. – Sharon Stone • I personally don’t think ginger men have a habit of being attractive. We have to make ourselves seem attractive by doing stuff. – Ed Sheeran • I put out a good 10 different types of drinks for them and they just said, “Oh, okay, so it’s just one choice.” One choice? I gave you Coke, Pepsi, Ginger Ale, Sprite. They saw that as one choice. Now why was that one choice? Because they felt, well, it was just all soda. – Sheena Iyengar • I really enjoy making dinner for my kids and my husband – chopping ginger and marinating the tofu. – Sadie Frost • I’d love to play Neil Kinnock. Because of my ginger hair, I thought that was a possibility. He’s a hero and a villain in most people’s eyes, but I’d like to do that, I think I’d be right for it. – Jason Flemyng • If I could eat only one thing for the rest of my life, it would be rhubarb fool, which I make with ginger and a hint of elderflower cordial. – Sebastian Faulks • If I had to rate myself between one and 10? If you’re a gingerist and like ginger guys, I guess I’m a seven, with make-up on maybe an eight. If you’re not a gingerist, I’m probably a six, six and a half. – Jason Flemyng • If there is one thing of which I am most proud, it’s that I made being ginger cool! – Rupert Grint • I’ll always be the ginger one from Harry Potter. – Rupert Grint • I’m ginger, so it’s hard to rate me – Jason Flemyng • I’m half Scottish, half Welsh and I regard red hair as perfectly ordinary. And to set the record straight, contrary to reports, he has never referred to himself as the ‘Ginger Ninja’. – Helen McCrory • I’m just some irritating, lying, ginger kid from Cornwall who should have been locked up in some youth detention centre. I just managed to escape and blag it into music. – Aphex Twin • I’m out here to represent the gingers, the gypsies, and the outcasts. Because I am all of the above, and I’m all about having a great time. – Neon Hitch • I’m quite sexy – if you like gingers. – Jason Flemyng • I’m so proud to be part of Harry Potter and even prouder to be representing the gingers. – Rupert Grint • In England we burnt redheads at the stake, because we thought they were witches. There are still young redheads in Britain getting ripped for having red hair. ‘Oy, Ginger!’ – Damian Lewis • Inside my heart, there’s a 12-year-old girl who has always wanted to be Ginger Rogers. – Samantha Bond • I’ve always been quite a proud ginger so I couldn’t dye it and betray the other gingers. – Rupert Grint • I’ve had years of teasing about my red hair, but I definitely think it toughened me up. If you’re ginger, you end up pretty quick-witted. – Ed Sheeran • I’ve never had food in my fridge. All I have in my fridge is one shelf of Canada Dry ginger ale, Diet Cokes on the next shelf, and ZeroWater on the next shelf. That is it. – Brigid Berlin • Jamaica has the best coffee, the best sugar, the best ginger and some of the best cocoa in the world. – Chris Blackwell • Last time I was sick, the guy I was seeing brought me a bottle of ginger ale… and expected me to pay him back for it. ~Jaime Vegas – Kelley Armstrong • Money can’t buy you love, but it can get you some really good chocolate ginger biscuits. – Dylan Moran • My dog, Ginger, is jumpy-like me-sensitive to sound and sudden movement. She wasn’t that way at first, but not long after we got her, my grandfather told me to stand still outside and hold her leash tight. Then he shot a gun off by our feet, several times. “This is how girls learn to obey,” he said, “how to be seen and not heard.” – Mira Bartok • My father said once that if I didn’t have my mother’s ginger hair, I wouldn’t blush or curse as easily. Which I though was unfair. I hardly ever curse or blush, even though I’ve had plenty of days that required both. – Maggie Stiefvater • My favorite ginger is Prince Harry! – Andy Cohen • My fridge is really just vegan: coconut water, Gatorade (my favorite!), cucumbers, mint, kale, vegetables, ginger, and wheat grass. – Serena Williams • My ginger tabby cat Oscar – he’s got his own passport – he comes everywhere with me. – Ashley Madekwe • My husband calls me a ginger every single day of my life, so that Im completely used to it, and Ive come to see it as a term of endearment. – Jayma Mays • My mother told me I was dancing before I was born. She could feel my toes tapping wildly inside her for months. – Ginger Rogers • Nose, nose, jolly red nose,And who gave thee that jolly red nose?Nutmegs and ginger, cinammon and cloves;And they gave me this jolly red nose. – Francis Beaumont • Now, many of us in the Labour Party are conservationists – and we all love the red squirrel. But there is one ginger rodent which we never want to see again – Danny Alexander. – Harriet Harman • Of course, Ginger was able to accomplish sex through dance. We told more through our movements instead of the big clinch. We did it all in the dance. – Fred Astaire • Oh, God, I’m so lonely. An entire weekend streching ahead with no one to love or have fun with. Anyway, I don’t care. I’ve got a lovely steamed ginger pudding from M&S to put in the microwave. – Helen Fielding • Only a ginger, can call another ginger Ginger. – Tim Minchin • Power is all. Another falsification; I do not tell how I gain or maintain it. I only record the ginger stroll through the vaguely fetid garden of its rewards. – Samuel R. Delany • Prepare a little hot tea or broth and it should be brought to them . . . without their being asked if they would care for it. Those who are in great distress want no food, but if it is handed to them, they will mechanically take it ‘ … There was something arresting about the matter-of-fact wisdom here, the instinctive understanding of the physiological disruptions… I will not forget the instinctive wisdom of the friend who, every day for those first few weeks, brought me a quart container of scallion-and-ginger congee from Chinatown. Congee I could eat. Congee was all I could eat. – Joan Didion • Right now Jack lives with me. Jack is my Jack Russell. I also have a Yorkie named Ginger, but Jack and Ginger can’t be in the same place at the same time because she is very jealous. Even if Jack’s not in the same state, she would growl if she heard his name. – Mariah Carey • Scholes was playing tiki-taka football when nobody in England knew what it was. He was another of those players, like Denis Law or Bobby Moore, who at 15 probably looked as if he wouldn’t make it. Too small, you would think – can’t run, dumpy little ginger nut – but then the ball would come to him and he would dazzle you. He was the best footballer in that Manchester United midfield, better than Ryan Giggs and Roy Keane. – Harry Redknapp • The only time I feel pressured is when some woman’s husband comes over and says, “Will you go ask my wife to dance? She’s a great dancer and would just love to dance with you.”Suddenly there’s a crowd of people standing around us and they expect that they’re about to see Fred and Ginger. Here the woman and I have just met, and these people think that it’s showtime. That is the only time I think it is really embarrassing. – Gene Kelly • The only way to enjoy anything in this life is to earn it first. – Ginger Rogers • The real color of my hair is mouse. I always want to be ginger, which I was when I was born, or blond, because I live in L.A., and I want to look like I go surfing without any physical effort. – John Lydon • The things that brought me the most comfort now were too small to list. Raspberries in cream. Sparrows with cocked heads. Shadows of bare limbs making for sidewalk filigrees. Roses past their prime with their petals loose about them. The shouts of children at play in the neighborhood, Ginger Rogers on the black-and-white screen. – Elizabeth Berg • There was never any question about Scholesy’s quality as a footballer. He was known as the little ginger magician in the youth team. Some reckon he’s the best United player of the modern era, and there’s a case for saying that. You don’t hear him blowing his own trumpet, though – he just gets on with his job. He’s the real deal. – Steve Bruce • Was that Will?” she said finally. Henry arched one ginger eyebrow. “Perhaps he’s been kidnapped and replaced by an automaton,” he suggested. “It seems possible…” For once Charlotte could only find herself in agreement. – Cassandra Clare • We live thetime that a match flickers; we pop the corkof a ginger-beer bottle, and the earthquake swallows us on the instant. Is it not odd, is it not incongruous, is it not, in the highest sense of human speech, incredible, that we should think so highly of the ginger-beer, and regard so little the devouring earthquake? – Robert Louis Stevenson • What kind of tea do you want?” “There´s more than one kind of tea?…What do you have?” “Let´s see… Blueberry, Raspberry, Ginseng, Sleepytime, Green Tea, Green Tea with Lemon, Green Tea with Lemon and Honey, Liver Disaster, Ginger with Honey, Ginger Without Honey, Vanilla Almond, White Truffle Coconut, Chamomile, Blueberry Chamomile, Decaf Vanilla Walnut, Constant Comment and Earl Grey.” -“I.. Uh…What are you having?… Did you make some of those up? – Bryan Lee O’Malley • What’s all this talk about me being teamed with Ginger Rogers? I will not have it Leland–I did not go into pictures to be teamed with her or anyone else, and if that is the program in mind for me I will not stand for it. I don’t mind making another picture with her but as for this teams idea, it’s out. – Ginger Rogers • When Ginger Rogers danced with Astaire, it was the only time in the movies when you looked at the man, not the woman. – Gene Kelly • When I realised I had a facility for humour, I latched on to it, and it gave me confidence and I built my personality around it. So I subconsciously made myself become the funny one so that would be my label rather than the ginger one or the red-faced one. – Catherine Tate • When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors. – Jeffrey Eugenides • When I was a little kid I always wanted to be ginger. My best friend was ginger and he was pretty cool. – Noel Fielding • When I was younger, I definitely did face anti-ginger prejudice. As a child, all teasing hurts, whether it’s because you’re fat or a different race or have red hair. I had enough comments from a couple of people to make it a sore point. – Lily Cole • When I’m off the road, and I can really control my diet down to the calorie, I juice seven days a week. Every afternoon, whatever I have at hand, beets, carrots, ginger, whatever. I juice, literally, every single day. And on the road, I try to find fresh juice wherever I can. – Henry Rollins • When two people love each other, they don’t look at each other, they look in the same direction. – Ginger Rogers • When you have a Dancing partner, there’s always gonna be a moment where the girl’s gonna cry, Ginger didn’t do that. But, most every other girl I’ve worked with have cried because they said “aah, I can’t do it” and I have to go “Yes, you can, Shut up!” and they do do it. – Fred Astaire • Whoever takes just plain ginger ale soon gets drowned out of the conversation. – Kin Hubbard

  jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'a', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_a').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_a img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'e', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_e').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_e img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'i', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_i').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_i img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'o', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_o').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_o img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'u', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '4', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_u').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_u img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); );

[dreadedxuk]

Cypress Hill – Manchester Academy 30/11/18

Soul Assassins breach UK shores for Elephants On Acid tour...

A massive band in the world of Hip-Hop in Cypress Hill finally come back to the UK for their first full tour on these shores in eight years. The last time they were here for more than one or two shows was in support of their last record Rise Up (2010) which didn't even include a show in the North West.  So it's been a while! Now on the road in promotion of this years Elephants On Acid record, the Soul Assassin warriors return to bang out those expertly crafted tunes all we fans know and love.

Supporting tonight was a hand-picked artist from Cypress themselves. TY (BenChijioke) is a Nigerian British rapper who has been active since the nineties.  He and his DJ accomplice provided us with around forty minutes of  Hip Hop from his back catalogue before the real feast began.

Cypress Hill were without regular DJ Muggs tonight and replaced him with the legendary DJ Lord from other massive American Hip Hop group, Public Enemy. Not a bad replacement! The rest of the line up remained the same with Eric Bobo on drums and of course the mighty Sen Dog and B-Real. About ten minutes prior to the band coming on stage DJ Lord showed up and showcased an array of samples as a prelude to the other members arrivals. When the rest of the band joined the stage they preceded with a string of hits stretching right back to the first Cypress Hill self titled record. With such a wealth of material to choose from and now nine albums in, it was always going to be a happily varied state of affairs! It was their massive second record, Black Sunday (1993) that flaunted the most tracks tonight with a total of five. 'Cock The Hammer', 'I Ain't Goin' Out Like That', 'Insane In The Brain', 'Lick A Shot' and 'When The Shit Goes Down' all proved to be big movers in a packed out Academy. Their debut, self titled album gave us the thrilling 'Hand On The Pump', 'How I Could Just Kill A Man' and the calmer 'Latin Lingo'. Temples of Boom (1995) sounded three tracks in the form of 'Boom Biddy Bye Bye', 'Illusions' and 'Throw Your Set In The Air'. Newest venture, Elephants On Acid (2018) also provided three songs. 'Band Of Gypsies', 'Put Em In The Ground' and the funky sounding 'Crazy'.  As for the rest there were a couple of tracks played from IV (1998). 'Dr. Greenthumb' and 'Tequila Sunrise'. 'Latin Thugs' was the only song played from Till Death Do Us Part (2004). One song that I hadn't heard before was actually taken from the soundtrack to the 1995 film, Friday. 'Roll It Up, Light It Up, Smoke It Up' was played during the middle of the set.  The last song of the set went to be one of the bands biggest hits and certainly the biggest from Skull & Bones (2000). The anthemic '(Rock) Superstar' pounding out capped off a fantastic night of music from these Hip Hop legends.

I waited a long time to see Cypress Hill in all their glory and although I was hoping for a slightly longer set, it was worth the wait. Just to see those two iconic figures leading the charge on stage, B-Real and Sen Dog just kill it! Overall the set was varied and well spread but it just left you wanting more. They graced the stage for around an hour and twenty minutes, mesmerising the crowd with their raps and treating us to renditions of classics that will never be forgotten. An honour to witness their might. I just hope this isn't the last time they grace Manchester with their presence.

*TRICK 'N' TREAT*

Trick – Nothing played from Stoned Raiders (2001) or Rise Up (2010).

Treat – B-Real and Sen Dog simply amazing.

            DJ Lord filling in on the 1s and 2s!

            Strong set with varied hits past and present.

            Great crowd.

            'Insane In The Brain' sounding....INSANE!!!

#cypresshill #cypresshilltour #elephantsonacidtour

[stories-aha-blog]

Some of my top fave stories

The Courtesan of Lucknow

Novel by Mirza Hadi Ruswa, 1905.

Life Story of a Woman who gets abducted a child as an act of revenge, and sold to a brothel, where she moves on to become a famous courtesan, due to her outstanding intellect, personality and taste.

Time of the Gypsies

Film by Emir Kusturica, 1988.

Le Dernier Chant des Malaterre

Graphic Novel by Francois Bourgeon.

The Pillow Boy of the Lady Onogoro

Novel by Alice Fell.

Quote from Goodreads:

“This “exquisite, exuberant, X-rated” novel (Mirabella), set in feudal Japan, tells the story of a concubine who hires a stable boy to whisper erotic stories from behind a screen while she entertains her master, a samurai general.”

Even if the basic premise of this book doesn’t really work, I still love it so much that I had to include it here.

Definitely in the soulfood department.

Dangerous Liaisons

Les Liaisons dangereuses is a French epistolary novel by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, first published in four volumes by Durand Neveu from March 23, 1782.

It is the story of the Marquise de Merteuil and the Vicomte de Valmont, two rivals (and ex-lovers) who use seduction as a weapon to socially control and exploit others, all the while enjoying their cruel games and boasting about their manipulative talents. It has been claimed to depict the decadence of the French aristocracy shortly before the French Revolution, thereby exposing the perversions of the so-called Ancien Régime. However, it has also been described as an amoral story.

As an epistolary novel, the book is composed entirely of letters written by the various characters to each other. In particular, the letters between Valmont and the Marquise drive the plot, with those of their victims and other characters serving as contrasting figures to give the story its depth.

The Wire

TV series, 2002 - 2008, on black street gangs in Baltimore, cross cut with some police procedural of the cops pursuing them.

May be about to reach its shelf life for being too famous to need introduction.

Les Valseuses

Quoted from Wikipedia, since I am too lazy to write up my own description:

Going Places is a 1974 French erotic comedy-drama film co-written and directed by Bertrand Blier, and based on his own novel. Its original title is Les Valseuses, which translates into English as "the waltzers"[citation needed], a vulgar French slang term for "the testicles".[2] It stars Miou-Miou, Gérard Depardieu and Patrick Dewaere.

It is widely considered one of the most controversial movies in French cinema history due to its vulgarity, depiction of sexual acts, nudity, and moral ambiguity; however, Blier's later acclaim for the rest of his filmography made it a cult film for modern critics.

Jean-Claude and Pierrot are young men who travel around France, committing petty crimes and running from the law. After they get in trouble with a hairdresser in Valence for stealing his car, they grab his pistol and kidnap his assistant Marie-Ange, an apathetic girl. When they are bored with unorgasmic Marie-Ange, they decide to find a passionate woman and meet Jeanne Pirolle, a woman in her forties who is just released from prison and had spent ten years in a cell. After a threesome, Jeanne commits suicide and the men return to Marie-Ange. They find Jeanne's son Jacques who had been incarcerated as well. Then, the four consider founding a crime family but at their first crime, an attempted robbery, Jacques commits a revenge killing and the others flee. While on the run, they meet a family having a picnic near Col d'Izoard and the delinquent teenage daughter Jacqueline wants to join them. They take Jacqueline and on learning that she is still a virgin, they decide to deflower her. After dropping Jacqueline, the three ride away aimlessly.

Breaking Bad

Too famous to need introduction for the next 10 years or so.

Der Seewolf

One of the classic 4 part adventure series, that would traditionally be broadcast in Germany around Christmas time. First broadcast in 1971, and then literally for decades after that.

Based on a number of different Jack London novels and short stories, that originally had no connection with each other.

Story of a young man from a well off family, who gets shiprecked, and then taken on board by a whaler ship, ruled by a ruthless, self made captain, who refuses to get him to land, and kind of treats him at his whim, sometimes tormenting him, sometimes using him to have conversations with.

Spirited Away

Too famous to need introduction for the next 10 years or so.

Lolita

Too famous to need introduction for the next 100 years or so, but, just in case:

1955 novel by Vladimir Nabokov

Quoted from Wikipedia:

The novel is notable for its controversial subject: the protagonist and unreliable narrator, a middle-aged literature professor under the pseudonym Humbert Humbert is obsessed with a 12-year-old girl, Dolores Haze, with whom he becomes sexually involved after he becomes her stepfather.

Bad Company

Quoted from Wikipedia, since I am too lazy to write up my own description:

″1972 American Western film directed by Robert Benton, who also co-wrote the film with David Newman. It stars Barry Brown and Jeff Bridges as two of a group of young men who flee the draft during the American Civil War to seek their fortune and freedom on the unforgiving American frontier.[1]

This acid western attempts in many ways to demythologize the American West in its portrayal of young men forced by circumstance and drawn by romanticized accounts to forge new lives for themselves on the wrong side of the law. Their initial eagerness to be outlaws soon abates, however, when the boys are confronted with the realities of preying on others in a nation ravaged by war and exploitation.”

Pinocchio

German language children’s tv series, animated in Japan, first broadcast in 1976, and then contiuously broadcast for many years after, due to its huge popularity.

Based on the original Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi, while introducing considerable changes.

For some reason or other, I only ever watched this when I was already in my 20s. Still loved it.

Riget

TV series by Lars von Trier.

Kind of his version of David Lynch’s “Twin Peaks”, if you will.

Set in a hospital, and combining elements of atmospheric eerie / spooky story, comedy, and soap opera.

The Kingdom (Danish title: Riget) is an eight-episode Danish television mini-series, created by Lars von Trier in 1994, and co-directed by Lars von Trier and Morten Arnfred.

The series is set in the neurosurgical ward of Copenhagen's Rigshospitalet, the city and country's main hospital, nicknamed "Riget". "Riget" means "the realm" or "the kingdom", and leads one to think of "dødsriget", the realm of the dead. The show follows a number of characters, both staff and patients, as they encounter bizarre phenomena, both human and supernatural. The show is notable for its wry humor, its muted sepia colour scheme, and the appearance of a chorus of dishwashers with Down Syndrome who discuss in intimate detail the strange occurrences in the hospital.

Cowboy Bebop

Probably too famous to need introduction for the next 10 years or so; but just in case:

1998 Japanese anime television series featuring a production team led by director Shinichirō Watanabe, screenwriter Keiko Nobumoto, character designer Toshihiro Kawamoto, mechanical designer Kimitoshi Yamane, and composer Yoko Kanno. The twenty-six episodes ("sessions") of the series are set in the year 2071, and follow the lives of a bounty hunter crew traveling on their spaceship called Bebop.

Histoire de ma vie

Giacomo Casnova’s Memoirs

Too famous to need introduction for the next 100 years or so.

One of my go to books, when I am seeking distraction. Just arbitrarily opening any of the volumes on any page will almost certainly lead to someting entertaining. Well, most of the time.

Tendres Cousins

Film by David Hamilton

Atmospheric film about those long summer days. The one example that I can think of, where I find the portrait of family life --- well actually more mother and her sister, with the father only visiting once --- enjoyable to watch.

Sort of a “The perfect bourgois childhood” soulfood kind film. (With a fair bit of erotic slapstic thrown in, but oh well.)

Kids

Quoted from Wikipedia:

Kids is a 1995 American independent coming-of-age film written by Harmony Korine and directed by Larry Clark.[4] It stars Chloë Sevigny, Leo Fitzpatrick, Justin Pierce, Rosario Dawson, and Jon Abrahams, all in their film debuts. Kids is centered on a day in the life of a group of teenagers in New York City and their hedonistic behavior towards sex and substance abuse (alcohol and other street drugs) during the height of the AIDS epidemic in the mid-1990s. The film generated a massive controversy upon its release in 1995, and caused much public debate over its artistic merit, even receiving an NC-17 rating from the MPAA

  Some of the comic stories by Hagra, here on tumblr;

“dirty little stories”, betwen gopniki, part time petty criminals and rent boys.

especially this one, this one, this one, this one, this one and this one.

___________________

RUNNERS UP

(= just faves, rather than Topfaves)

Shameless (UK), the first 5 seasons

Vikings (2013 tv series)

Rome

2005 tv series

The series primarily chronicles the lives and deeds of the rich, powerful, and historically significant, but also focuses on the lives, fortunes, families, and acquaintances of two common men: Lucius Vorenus and Titus Pullo, fictionalized versions of a pair of Roman soldiers mentioned in Caesar's Commentarii de Bello Gallico.[1] The fictional Vorenus and Pullo manage to witness and often influence many of the historical events presented in the series, although some license is taken.

The first season depicts Julius Caesar's civil war of 49 BC against the traditionalist conservative faction in the Roman Senate (the Optimates), his rise to dictatorship over Rome, and his fall, spanning the time from the end of his Gallic Wars (52 BC or 701 ab urbe condita) until his assassination on 15 March 44 BC (the infamous Ides of March). Against the backdrop of these cataclysmic events, we also see the early years of the young Octavian, who is destined to become Augustus, the first Emperor of Rome. The second season chronicles the power struggle between Octavian and Mark Antony following Caesar's assassination, spanning the period from Caesar's death in 44 BC to the suicide of Antony and Cleopatra in 30 B.C. after their defeat at the Battle of Actium.

Les Innommables

5 volume graphic novel series by Conrad and Yann

Les Innommables ("The Unnameables") is a Franco-Belgian comic series written by Yann le Pennetier and drawn by Didier Conrad. It began publication in serialized form in 1980 in Spirou magazine and was eventually published in album form by Dargaud.[1]

The series recounts the adventures of three U.S. Army deserters – Mac, Tony and Tim – in 1949, as they trek across Asia and search for Alix, who is Mac's lover and a Chinese communist spy. Les Innommables is characterized by its black humor as well as frequent displays of nudity and violence – which eventually ended the series' run in Spirou.

Les passagers du vent

7 book graphic novel series by Francois Bourgeon

Some of the short stories by Charles Bukowsky

Johnny Mad Dog

2008 French/Liberian war film directed by Jean-Stéphane Sauvaire and based on the novel Johnny Chien Méchant (2002) by the Congolese author Emmanuel Dongala.

The teenage rebel Johnny Mad Dog leads the small group of younger boys commanded by the older General Never Die, who feeds them cocaine.[1] The film follows the group's march towards the capital Monrovia, and follows them in a gritty realistic manner as they move through a series of towns and villages, where they terrify and often execute the population. The soldiers are depicted as almost feral, committing acts of pillage and rape, with scant regard for even their own lives. They wear a variety of outlandish outfits – including butterfly wings and a wedding dress – and have nicknames such as No Good Advice, Captain Dust to Dust, and Chicken Hair.

_____

There are almost certainly quite a few more, that I can’t think of right now. I might update the list, if I should remember a super important one.

(Although there is a limit for how long such a list can be, and still be of use.)

I left out most of the light stuff that I love to watch, and tried to only include stuff that kind of works as inspiration for what I would write about myself.

I enjoy rewatching scenes from The Wire, Rome, The Soparnos and Game of Thrones on youtube, typically many many times over. In the very unlikely case I should ever take part of creating a tv series, it would definitely have to be one that produces scenes that people get addicted to rewatching.

#writing #storytelling

[justmeshoshana]

What the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive wants the world to know At 97, Ben Ferencz is the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive and he has a far-reaching message for today’s world

2017May 07

CORRESPONDENTLesley Stahl

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Twenty-two SS officers responsible for the deaths of 1M+ people would never have been brought to justice were it not for Ben Ferencz.

The officers were part of units called Einsatzgruppen, or action groups. Their job was to follow the German army as it invaded the Soviet Union in 1941 and kill Communists, Gypsies and Jews.

Ferencz believes "war makes murderers out of otherwise decent people" and has spent his life working to deter war and war crimes.  

Ben Ferencz

It is not often you get the chance to meet a man who holds a place in history like Ben Ferencz.  He's 97 years old, barely 5 feet tall, and he served as prosecutor of what's been called the biggest murder trial ever. The courtroom was Nuremberg; the crime, genocide; the defendants, a group of German SS officers accused of committing the largest number of Nazi killings outside the concentration camps -- more than a million men, women, and children shot down in their own towns and villages in cold blood.

Ferencz is the last Nuremberg prosecutor alive today. But he isn't content just to be part of 20th century history -- he believes he has something important to offer the world right now.

"If it's naive to want peace instead of war, let 'em make sure they say I'm naive. Because I want peace instead of war."

Lesley Stahl: You know, you-- have seen the ugliest side of humanity.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: You've really seen evil. And look at you. You're the sunniest man I've ever met. The most optimistic.

27-year-old Ben Ferencz became the chief prosecutor of 22 Einsatzgruppen commanders at Nuremberg.

Benjamin Ferencz: You oughta get some more friends.

Watching Ben Ferencz during his daily swim, his gym workout and his morning push-up regimen is to realize he isn't just the sunniest man we've ever met -- he may also be the fittest. And that's just the beginning.

This is Ferencz making his opening statement in the Nuremberg courtroom 70 years ago.

Ben Ferencz in court: The charges we have brought accuse the defendants of having committed crimes against humanity.

The Nuremberg trials after World War II were historic -- the first international war crimes tribunals ever held. Hitler's top lieutenants were prosecuted first. Then a series of subsequent trials were mounted against other Nazi leaders, including 22 SS officers responsible for killing more than a million people -- not in concentration camps -- but in towns and villages across Eastern Europe. They would never have been brought to justice were it not for Ben Ferencz.

Lesley Stahl: You look so young.

Benjamin Ferencz: I was so young.  I was 27 years old.

Lesley Stahl: Had you prosecuted trials before?

Benjamin Ferencz: Never in my life. I don't—

Lesley Stahl: Come on.

Benjamin Ferencz: --recall if I'd ever been in a courtroom actually.

Ferencz had immigrated to the U.S. as a baby, the son of poor Jewish parents from a small town in Romania. He grew up in a tough New York City neighborhood where his father found work as a janitor.

Ben Ferencz, 1946.

Benjamin Ferencz: When I was taken to school at the age of seven, I couldn't speak English-- spoke Yiddish at home. And I was very small. And so they wouldn't let me in.

Lesley Stahl: So you didn't speak English 'til you were eight?

Benjamin Ferencz: That's correct.

Lesley Stahl: Could you read?

Benjamin Ferencz: No, on the contrary. The silent movies always had writing on it. And I would ask my father, "Wazukas," in Yiddish, "What does it say? What does it say?" He couldn't read it, either.

But Ferencz learned quickly. He became the first in his family to go to college, then got a scholarship to Harvard Law School. But during his first semester, the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, and he, like many classmates, raced to enlist. He wanted to be a pilot, but the Army Air Corps wouldn't take him.

Benjamin Ferencz:  They said, "No, you're too short. Your legs won't reach the pedals." The Marines, they just looked at me and said, "Forget it, kid."

So he finished at Harvard then enlisted as a private in the Army. Part of an artillery battalion, he landed on the beach at Normandy and fought in the Battle of the Bulge. Toward the end of the war, because of his legal training, he was transferred to a brand new unit in General Patton's Third Army, created to investigate war crimes.  As U.S. forces liberated concentration camps, his job was to rush in and gather evidence. Ferencz told us he is still haunted by the things he saw. And the stories he heard in those camps.

Benjamin Ferencz: A father who, his son told me the story. The father had died just as we were entering the camp. And the father had routinely saved a piece of his bread for his son, and he kept it under his arm at… He kept it under his arm at night so the other inmates wouldn't steal it, you know.  So you see these human stories which are not -- they're not real.  They're not real.  But they were real.

Ferencz came home, married his childhood sweetheart and vowed never to set foot in Germany again.  But that didn't last long. General Telford Taylor, in charge of the Nuremberg trials, asked him to direct a team of researchers in Berlin, one of whom found a cache of top-secret documents in the ruins of the German foreign ministry.

Benjamin Ferencz: He gave me a bunch of binders, four binders. And these were daily reports from the Eastern Front-- which unit entered which town, how many people they killed. It was classified, so many Jews, so many gypsies, so many others--

Ferencz had stumbled upon reports sent back to headquarters by secret SS units called Einsatzgruppen, or action groups. Their job had been to follow the German army as it invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, and kill Communists, Gypsies and especially Jews.

Screenshot from film showing the Einsatzgruppen at work.

Benjamin Ferencz: They were 3,000 SS officers trained for the purpose, and directed to kill without pity or remorse, every single Jewish man, woman, and child they could lay their hands on.

Lesley Stahl: So they went right in after the troops?

Benjamin Ferencz: That was their assignment, come in behind the troop, round up the Jews, kill 'em all.

Only one piece of film is known to exist of the Einsatzgruppen at work.  It isn't easy viewing…

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, this is typical operation.  Well, see here, this-- they rounded 'em up. They all have already tags on 'em. And they're chasing them.

Lesley Stahl: They're making them run to their own death?

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes. Yes. There's the rabbi coming along there. Just put 'em in the ditch. Shoot 'em there. You know, kick 'em in.

Lesley Stahl: Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

This footage came to light years later. At the time, Ferencz just had the documents, and he started adding up the numbers.

Benjamin Ferencz: When I reached over a million people murdered that way, over a million people, that's more people than you've ever seen in your life, I took a sample. I got on the next plane, flew from Berlin down to Nuremberg, and I said to Taylor, "General, we've gotta put on a new trial."

Ben Ferencz entered into evidence the defendants' own reports of what they'd done.  

But the trials were already underway, and prosecution staff was stretched thin. Taylor told Ferencz adding another trial was impossible.

Benjamin Ferencz: And I start screaming. I said, "Look. I've got here mass murder, mass murder on an unparalleled scale."  And he said, "Can you do this in addition to your other work?" And I said, "Sure." He said, "OK. So you do it."

And that's how 27-year-old Ben Ferencz became the chief prosecutor of 22 Einsatzgruppen commanders at trial number 9 at Nuremberg.

Judge: How do you plead to this indictment, guilty or not guilty?

Defendant: Nicht schuldig.

Benjamin Ferencz: Standard routine, nicht schuldig.  Not guilty.

Judge: Guilty or not guilty?

Defendant: Nicht schuldig.

Lesley Stahl: They all say not guilty.

Benjamin Ferencz: Same thing, not guilty.

Otto Ohlendorf

But Ferencz knew they were guilty and could prove it. Without calling a single witness, he entered into evidence the defendants' own reports of what they'd done. Exhibit 111: "In the last 10 weeks, we have liquidated around 55,000 Jews."  Exhibit 179, from Kiev in 1941: "The city's Jews were ordered to present themselves… about 34,000 reported, including women and children. After they had been made to give up their clothing and valuables, all of them were killed, which took several days." Exhibit 84, from Einsatzgruppen D in March of 1942: Total number executed so far: 91,678. Einsatzgruppen D was the unit of Ferencz's lead defendant Otto Ohlendorf. He didn't deny the killings -- he had the gall to claim they were done in self-defense.

Benjamin Ferencz: He was not ashamed of that. He was proud of that. He was carrying out his government's instructions.

Lesley Stahl: How did you not hit him?

Benjamin Ferencz: There was only one time I wanted to-- really. One of these-- my defendants said-- He gets up, and he says, "[GERMAN]," which is, "What? The Jews were shot? I hear it here for the first time."  Boy, I felt if I'd had a bayonet I woulda jumped over the thing, and put a bayonet right through one ear, and let it come out the other. You know? You know?

Lesley Stahl: Yeah.

Benjamin Ferencz: That son of a bitch.

Lesley Stahl: And you had his name down on a piece of—

Benjamin Ferencz: And I've got-- I've got his reports of how many he killed. You know? Innocent lamb.

Lesley Stahl: Did you look at the defendants' faces?

60 Minutes correspondent Lesley Stahl and Nuremberg prosecutor Ben Ferencz

Benjamin Ferencz: Defendants' face were blank, all the time. Defendants-- absolutely blank. They could-- like, they're waiting for a bus.

Lesley Stahl: What was going on inside of you?

Benjamin Ferencz: Of me?

Lesley Stahl: Yeah.

Benjamin Ferencz: I'm still churning.

Lesley Stahl: To this minute?

Benjamin Ferencz: I'm still churning.

All 22 defendants were found guilty, and four of them, including Ohlendorf, were hanged. Ferencz says his goal from the beginning was to affirm the rule of law and deter similar crimes from ever being committed again.

Lesley Stahl: Did you meet a lot of people who perpetrated war crimes who would otherwise in your opinion have been just a normal, upstanding citizen?

"War makes murderers out of otherwise decent people. All wars, and all decent people."

Benjamin Ferencz: Of course, is my answer. These men would never have been murderers had it not been for the war. These were people who could quote Goethe, who loved Wagner, who were polite--

Lesley Stahl: What turns a man into a savage beast like that?

Benjamin Ferencz: He's not a savage. He's an intelligent, patriotic human being.

Lesley Stahl: He's a savage when he does the murder though.

Benjamin Ferencz: No. He's a patriotic human being acting in the interest of his country, in his mind.

Lesley Stahl: You don't think they turn into savages even for the act?

Benjamin Ferencz: Do you think the man who dropped the nuclear bomb on Hiroshima was a savage? Now I will tell you something very profound, which I have learned after many years. War makes murderers out of otherwise decent people. All wars, and all decent people.

So Ferencz has spent the rest of his life trying to deter war and war crimes by establishing an international court – like Nuremburg. He scored a victory when the international criminal court in The Hague was created in 1998.  He delivered the closing argument in the court's first case.

"If they tell me they want war instead of peace, I don't say they're naive, I say they're stupid."  

Lesley Stahl: Now, you've been at this for 50 years, if not more. We've had genocide since then.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: In Cambodia—

Benjamin Ferencz: Going on right this minute, yes.

Lesley Stahl: Going on right this minute in Sudan.

Benjamin Ferencz: Yes.

Lesley Stahl: We've had Rwanda, we've had Bosnia. You're not getting very far.

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, don't say that. People get discouraged. They should remember, from me, it takes courage not to be discouraged.

Lesley Stahl: Did anybody ever say that you're naive?

Benjamin Ferencz: Of course. Some people say I'm crazy.

Lesley Stahl: Are you naive here?

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, if it's naive to want peace instead of war, let 'em make sure they say I'm naive. Because I want peace instead of war. If they tell me they want war instead of peace, I don't say they're naive, I say they're stupid. Stupid to an incredible degree to send young people out to kill other young people they don't even know, who never did anybody any harm, never harmed them. That is the current system. I am naive? That's insane.

Ferencz is legendary in the world of international law, and he's still at it. He never stops pushing his message and he's donating his life savings to a Genocide Prevention Initiative at the Holocaust Museum. He says he's grateful for the life he's lived in this country, and it's his turn to give back.

Lesley Stahl: You are such an idealist.

Benjamin Ferencz: I don't think I'm an idealist.  I'm a realist. And I see the progress.  The progress has been remarkable. Look at the emancipation of woman in my lifetime. You're sitting here as a female. Look what's happened to the same-sex marriages. To tell somebody a man can become a woman, a woman can become a man, and a man can marry a man, they would have said, "You're crazy." But it's a reality today. So the world is changing. And you shouldn't-- you know-- be despairing because it's never happened before. Nothing new ever happened before.

Lesley Stahl: Ben—

Benjamin Ferencz: We're on a roll.

Lesley Stahl: I can't—

Benjamin Ferencz: We're marching forward.

Lesley Stahl: Ben? I'm sitting here listening to you. And you're very wise. And you're full of energy and passion.  And I can't believe you're 97 years old.

Benjamin Ferencz: Well, I'm still a young man.

Lesley Stahl: Clearly, clearly.

Benjamin Ferencz: And I'm still in there fighting.  And you know what keeps me going? I know I'm right.

Produced by Shari Finkelstein and Nieves Zuberbühler.

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