#Zipper Anthem

[zillyeh]

have you seen the lightshow at the Undertaker's church?

+ face w/o psionics under the cut

#art tag or st #Zippie tag #Zipper Anthem

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Herbert Zipper

Herbert Zipper was a conductor and composer who founded a secret orchestra at Dachau, and wrote a song that became an anthem for death camp inmates.

Born in 1904 to an affluent Jewish family in Vienna, Herbert was a musical prodigy who studied at the prestigious Vienna Music Academy with the great composer Richard Strauss. He found employment as a conductor and composer for cabaret shows.

Germany annexed Austria in 1938 and immediately started persecuting Jewish citizens. Herbert was arrested that year and sent by the SS to Dachau, where he became a “horse,” pushing a wheelbarrow loaded with heavy rocks for 12 hours a day. One of the most talented composers in Europe was doing the work of an animal.

Herbert was not the only music man in Dachau. All the Jewish members of the Munich Philharmonic – comprising most of the orchestra – were also incarcerated there. Herbert enlisted the other musicians in an audacious, even insane, plan. They would make instruments and create an orchestra, right there at Dachau.

How could anybody create musical instruments in a concentration camp? They combed the camp for discarded pieces of wood and metal and fashioned eleven primitive yet functional instruments. At least one guard helped the musicians; Herbert requested a piece of wire for a string instrument, and later found it under his pillow.

Herbert’s Dachau orchestra performed concerts for the other inmates every Sunday, in an outhouse. It’s hard to imagine the experience of listening to sublime music in a filthy environment, while knowing they could be all killed for their participation. Herbert said that the concerts were not for entertainment, but rather to bring purpose and even a bit of normalcy back to their lives.

Noted playwright Jura Soyfer, an old friend of Herbert’s from his cabaret days, was also at Dachau. Together they wrote “Dachaulied” (Dachau song), with Herbert composing the haunting music in his head and Jura penning the sad, sardonic lyrics inspired by the concentration camp motto “Work will make you free.” They thought that writing the song would help them maintain some dignity in an atmosphere of constant humiliation and demonization. Herbert deliberately made the song difficult to learn, so that his fellow inmates would have to use all of their concentration and thereby mentally escape from their horrific surroundings. Amazingly, the Nazis never discovered the secret orchestra.

At the end of 1938, Herbert and Jura were transferred to Buchenwald where they taught other inmates the Dachau song. Soon after, Jura died of typhus at age 26, and Herbert lovingly prepared his body for burial. At this time Hitler hadn’t yet began to implement his “Final Solution” to kill all the Jews, which started in 1941. Herbert’s father Emil was in London, desperately trying to get a visa for Herbert and his two brothers to escape Austria. Miraculously, Emil was able to secure his sons’ release from Buchenwald, and they joined him in Paris on March 16, 1939.

During all this time, Herbert’s fiancee, dancer Trudl Dubsky, was working in Manila, in the Philippines. She recommended him for the job of conductor of the Manila Symphony Orchestra, and he was hired, traveling there in September, 1939. Herbert and Trudl were married on October 1. Although it wasn’t a world-class orchestra at the time, Herbert enjoyed working with the Manila Orchestra and under his leadership it improved dramatically. Life was good for Herbert and Trudl until January 1942, when the Japanese army invaded the Philippines and occupied Manila. It was a brutal occupation and once again Herbert was arrested, this time for refusing to conduct the orchestra for Japanese military officers. He was incarcerated and harshly interrogated for four months before being released. For the next three years Herbert and Trudl survived hand-to-mouth, owning no belongings and traveling frequently in search of safe haven in a country at war.

The most difficult period was the Battle of Manila in early 1945. More than once the building where they took shelter was bombed by the Japanese artillery and they escaped with only seconds to spare. In the end of February they were living with hundreds of other displaced people in a seven-story building in Manila that had neither electricity or water. Herbert volunteered to get water every day, a dangerous and difficult undertaking.  On the early morning of February 26, 1945, Herbert was on his water run when he saw an opportunity to reach the American front line, and he rushed across a battle field to do it. While there he received a crucial piece of information: the apartment building where he was staying was due to be bombed by the Allies within fifteen minutes! Herbert desperately explained that 800-1000 civilians were inside the building! Due to his pleas, the bombardment was delayed for 45 minutes, giving him just enough time to get back to the building and rescue everyone inside including Trudl.

Until Japan was defeated on September 2, 1945, Herbert worked secretly for the American army under the command of General Douglas MacArthur, transmitting valuable information about Japanese shipping schedules by shortwave radio. When Japan finally surrendered, Herbert organized and conducted a concert of Beethoven’s “Eroica” symphony, a goal he’d set during the darkest hours at Dachau. The concert was performed in a bombed-out church.

Herbert and Trudl immigrated to America in 1946, joining the rest of his family. He co-founded and conducted the Brooklyn Symphony Orchestra, and organized another orchestra especially to give free concerts for public school children. Students called Herbert, who had no children of his own, “Papa Z.” For the rest of his life he volunteered and supported arts education for young people.

Herbert was close friends with poet Langston Hughes and they collaborated on an opera together, “Barrier.” Trudl worked as a ballet tacher. They moved to Chicago in 1953, where Herbert founded the Music Center of the North Shore, and then to Los Angeles, where Herbert directed the School of Performing Arts at USC.

Interviewed by a Los Angeles Times reporter at the end of his life, Herbert said “We have to see the world as it is, but we have to think about what the world could be. That’s what the arts are about.”

Herbert is the subject of a biography, “Dachau Song: The Twentieth Century Odyssey of Herbert Zipper,” and a documentary that was nominated for an Academy Award. His beloved wife Trudl died of lung cancer in 1976. He continued his music for two more decades, conducting his last concert in 1996. Herbert Zipper died in Santa Monica in 1997.

For inspiring concentration camp inmates and inner-city schoolchildren with his music, and for saving hundreds of lives during the Japanese occupation of the Philippines, we honor Herbert Zipper as this week’s Thursday Hero.

Lyrics of Dachau Song:

Barbed wire fraught with death surrounds our world

On which a merciless heaven visits frost and sunburn.

Far from us are all joys, far our home, far the women

When mute we march to work, thousands in the gray dawn.

But we learned the Dachau motto and it made us hard as steel.

Be a man, comrade, remain human comrade

Do good work, pitch in, comrade

Because work, work will make you free!

#Thursday Hero #🎖

[blood-injections]

Currently thinking some thoughts about the Jet Star and the Kobra Kid traffic report and how ‘killjoys never die’ and how there’s canonical powers. The killjoy’s different powers in national anthem, the girls power, the energy in the desert that Cherri does his weird focus thing with to never miss a shot that he tells her about. If they all have powers, why can’t the Fab Four? Maybe their power is that they never die.

They don’t know it yet, though. Maybe Doctor D does, maybe that’s why he drilled that phrase into their brains, maybe that’s why he always tells them that they can end this war, maybe that’s why he entrusted the girl to them, because he knows that they all have something magical in common.

But they don’t know it yet, if he knows he hasn’t told them, none of them have figured it out despite the weird close calls they all seem to have had, like when Fun Ghoul was young in battery city and woke up fine from an overdose that should’ve killed him or when Jet Star was bitten by that rattlesnake when she was a pup and got really sick and swore they couldn’t breathe. She says she must have passed out, because when Doctor D found her out back she was just waking back up and healthy as could be.

And then it happens. Kobra and Jet went on a supply run and didn't come back. Back in the diner, the radio was playing. Party was drawing lazily and Ghoul was fiddling with Kobra’s power glove that had been a bit on the fritz lately while they waited for the pair to return. Instead the song on the radio fizzes out, replaced by static and then Doctor Death’s pebbly voice.

Bad news from the zones, tumbleweeds…

They're frozen in shock but they quickly scramble to their feet, terrified and in denial. Poison makes a beeline for Kobra’s bike and Ghoul can’t make himself speak, a lump of horror lodged in his throat. It’s a silent, terrified ride down route guano for the two of them, keeping their eyes peeled for signs of a fight.

It isn’t hard to spot the bodybags.

They’re a startling black and white contrasting to the orange-brown tones of the desert sand. And there’s two of them.

When they’re unzipped, two familiar faces are revealed, their skin off-coloured, pale and lifeless. Poison shatters and Ghoul tries hard to keep it together for the one friend he has left

They take the bodies up to that one vista that Kobra loved because he could see all around for miles and keep watch over the desert and that Jet loved because it was the best spot to stargaze. The sun is nearing the horizon when they start digging. They work in silence and it isn’t hard to hear when the movement starts.

At first it’s a shifting of fabric that goes unnoticed, then it’s perplexed mumbles and then it’s a zipper sliding open. Poison and Ghoul have both stopped digging to stare at the body bag thats now open and the person that’s sitting up.

“What the fuck.” Jet Star says, looking from the two of them armed with their shovels and then down at themself. She looks at her hands and then at her stomach, where her shirt is matted with dried blood. Her hands press at where she can remember there being a wound but where there’s now no pain, no fresh blood, no nothing.

The other body bag wiggles, muffled curses sounding. All the killjoys turn to stare at it. Poison rushes over, unzipping it and pulling their somehow alive brother up into their arms.

#killjoys never die #danger days #ttlotfk #mcr danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #killjoys #my chemical romance #mcr #fun ghoul #kobra kid #party poison #jet star #danger days headcanons #danger days hcs #corvidscrap

[ididit-allofit-foryou]

here's a poem from my new poetry book, Know Me!!!

(transcript and tag list below--let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

@iknowtheendnatural @wishful-seeker @fluffylemonaidz @queerplatonicnatural @711thuniverse @salbinic-paradox @pink-enby-in-distress  @bluebuckstallion @colinthrobinson @hitori-alouette @dwcoded @bloodqueendean @ezrabellamy @scarlettmichkat @wildestdreamsdean @heres-to-evil-skanks @antiherodean @doctorprofessorsong @november5th @nguyenxtrang  @floral-cas @harryshousevevo @thiscastielhasflown @dailydestieldose @fredzina @dusenkasab @diamond-order @beanmom @quitetoomuchforme @one-more-offbeat-anthem @justgayangelthingz

_____________________

hollowed ground

I am a dog gnawing a bone gone dry, so full 

of want, so hungry, so desperate 

to be filled. I crave to be seen 

in all my ugliness and still be chosen; I want 

someone to know my thorns 

as well as my soft, and to love 

each as dearly. I need to know I don't have to be palatable 

to be worthy of love. I need to know there is someone 

out there who will not pull the drapes 

on my scars, who will tend my wounds 

and not scorn me for being damaged. My heart 

is a black hole and a peach at once: yearning 

to be filled, yet so tender-sweet. My zipper-mouth 

soul craves for someone, for anyone, to caress 

it soft, to tame it gentle, to give it more peace 

than it has ever known, and a home 

where it can rest long-last. My chest 

is so heavy! So tired! So full and so empty 

at once! I ache to know the comfort of indulgence. 

Give me a buffet of love and I will eat the plates 

clean. My stomach-heart growls, a starved 

lion for what it's worth; tempt it with steak and see how it roars! 

I've never been so close to love, or to understanding 

what it means, as I was at 20 in a car, kissing 

someone who is no longer a girl, and who no longer loves 

me, and who never gave me the chance to love them. I’ve forgotten 

what it tastes like, but it still echoes on my eye-lid-black 

when I blink. Love is a ghost haunting the chambers 

of my lungs, screaming to my shaky breath 

how much it has to give, and no one to give 

to. All I want is to be painfully human, in the most ancient 

way. To love is to live, is to be known 

and to know and to choose to stay despite 

it all; it is to be chosen despite it all! 

I want to be someone's someone! I want to know 

the passions of Sappho; to know the nerve of DiVinci 

to model Christ after his gay lover; 

I’d say I want the kind of love that starts wars, 

but I’ve always been a pacifist. I am a chronic 

overachiever, but I always fail at love. Teach 

me I am not broken! Kiss my bruised 

knuckles and battered heart; rope 

together my scattered shards and mold 

them into something beautiful! I want something 

more real than my pain. I want someone 

who makes it all worth it. I want someone who looks 

at me like the Sistine chapel in all my chapped-lip 

glory, and who dares to make me hope 

again– or for the first time!

       -willow rain fae

#poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #writing #rain rambles #sapphic poetry #wlw poetry #nonbinary #lgbt #trans #spoonie poet #rain writes

[hisgoodpuppy]

“it’s not that i’m falling in love, i just want you to do me no good- and you look like you could”

semi eita x fem!reader // this is straight smut

a dingy club. flashing lights dancing on top of the smoky indoor air. no one has smoked in here in decades, but somehow the smell of cigarette lingers. the dark walls had a grime. the floors were always slightly tacky. & what you would discover under a black light in this place isn’t for the faint of heart. long story short, it was a bit of a dump, but you always liked things a bit dirty.

—————— minors dni // 18+ ——————

& nothing was more filthy than the way semi eita had your dress completely hiked up your thighs in the middle of the dance floor. you were too drunk to care if anyone saw. “let them see”, you thought. it couldn’t have been the most outrageous sight the club goers had experienced here. you smirk at your own thoughts, but then you suddenly feel his hands grip tightly on your ass, pulling you even closer into him. your mouth falls open as you feel his large thigh press more firmly against your pussy. he could feel your arousal, even through his slacks.

“that all for me?”, he says with a heavy breath. even with the thudding music, it sounds like it’s only him & you in this room. you bite your lip & kiss him in response. you both continue swaying and grinding to the steady beat of the music. with each movement, you’re only becoming more & more stimulated.

semi can’t help it, your heat drives him nuts as he sucks at your neck. licking up your sweat & groaning in your ear. “-taste so fuckin good”, he says as he nibbles your exposed shoulder. it’s all happening so quickly, but yet so slowly. your drunken haze fogging up yet also enhancing everything. it feels so wrong & so right at the same time. you can’t stop yourself. you can’t stop the man in front of you.

“-gotta have you. gotta have you. right now-” he mutters as he looks at you with his forehead pressed against yours. the crappy yet colorful lights dance on your glistening sweat covered bodies. you’d been dancing for god knows how long, but you’re not tired. you want more. you need more. you kiss him again. this time his tongue slips into your mouth. & you can feel it slide along yours. slippery. you can taste the alcohol on his breath & it brings you some strange comfort. it’s hot. it’s everything you ever wanted in this very moment.

“fuck me then”, you whisper in his ear. even after however many drinks you manage to speak without a slur. you’re present. you’re here. & he’s so fucking hot, & you want him so fucking bad. you know you’ll never see him again, & you know that’s how you like it.

semi’s hands never left your uncovered ass & you remember now as he brings one of his hands to undo his zipper. “‘m gonna fuck you right here, baby girl”. you moan at his words, as you discreetly slide your panties down & slip them into his back pocket. so he can remember you, but you won’t remember him. not by a long shot. you don’t even get to catch a glimpse of his cock before he grabs your thigh, pulls it up, & thrusts himself into you.

“fuck- baby- so fucking wet- shit”, he groans into your ear. he grabs you some more, tugging at your soft skin like he’s trying to pick you up & eat you. you can’t blame him. it all feels so delicious.

like the way his thick cock pummels into your dripping little hole over & over. your hands grip tighter around his neck as his fucks more aggressively into you. you feel like you’re holding on for dear life as you feel your leg on the floor start to buckle.

the head of his cock is there. it’s touching your sweet spot, & he can tell because your eyes are rolling back & you haven’t said nothing more than “ooh” for the last minute. or had it been longer? who knows?

“dirty fucking slut. you gonna cum?” semi smiles at you. you nod at him & go in for a kiss. you can feel the vibration of a laugh escape him. you looked so desperate and you felt so good. this felt criminal. he picks up speed, never slipping his full length out of you. his tip taunting your cervix. it’s only that spot. over & over, his fat cock head gliding mercilessly along your tightening walls. you had to have been floating.

your nails slip through his blonde-ish hair and dig into his scalp. you manage to let out an “oh my god” & it’s really a wonder how no one around you both heard it. your legs shake as your cunt flutters & cums all over his dick. his hand firmly holding your thigh in place as you continue to push him into you.

he doesn’t stop, he continues pumping his dick in you. even as songs start & end. even though you’ve already came. even as people leave the dance floor semi’s addicted to the way you clamp down on him. the way your body goes slightly limp when he hit your cervix.

“i want it all, baby. give it all to me”, he encourages you one last time. you feel him shudder & pulse inside you & it makes you come undone. he follows after. his strong hands holding you close. fingers digging into your moist skin. a heavy & hot load & you’re doing your very best to keep it from dripping out.

the beautiful man kisses you gently. he watches as he pulls himself out of you. licking his lips at the perfect mixture of his cum & yours on his cock. after letting your other leg down, you reach one of your hands between you both to stroke him. gathering the cum on your hand, you bring it to your mouth. semi’s mouth agape, he doesn’t think you’ll do it. you wouldn’t. there’s no way you’re that fucking filthy.

but you do, you hold your hand to your mouth & run your tongue up it. sucking each drop of the salty goodness off your fingers. semi’s eyes can’t look away from you & shakes his head. grabbing the back of your neck & kissing you once more.

the club music continues playing. the club goers around you pay no mind. it was only a tuesday night & your head was dizzy from the mix of alcohol & his scent. it was only a tuesday night, but you just fucked a stranger in the middle of a dance floor. but who was going to tell you what to do? too-strong drinks & too-easy one night stands were your only vices.

& you always liked things a bit dirty.

#arctic monkeys used to be amazing #am was a weird album for me #i adore this song so much #i have this record on vinyl too #but they lost the edge & grit #their sound used to have #anyways #Spotify #semi eita #hq semi #semi eita x reader #semi eita x y/n #semi smut #hq smut #haikyuu smut

[vaniitas-store]

More items added to Telegram. Almost enough to send out a presale mailing 😉 1+2. Maison Martin Margiela x BLESS black fur wig made of recycled fur coats — fall 1997 3. Ann Demeulemeester black sleeveless top with cut neckline and torn seams — fall 2010 4+5. Ann Demeulemeester black twisted maxi skirt with adjustable zipper slit — fall 2012 6+7. Rick Owens ANTHEM pearl winged jacket with wrapped mesh collar and black leather sleeves — spring 2011 8. Rick Owens DRKSHDW grey draped denim jacket with shoulder petals — spring 2007 9. Ann Demeulemeester black velvet ankle boots with banana heel (39.5) — fall 1995 https://www.instagram.com/p/CpIxyOErT4y/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[deusluxuria]

yet another jjba spotify playlist: as a start, some songs i feel like bruno would listen to (yes, absolute blasphemy that there's no miles davis on this - yet! sadly i don't think i've listened to him before and the amount of jazz music that has graced my ears in general is very scarce)

#i hope u like goldfrapp b/c bruno being a goldfrapp fan is something i have very strong feelings about loool #bruno buccellati #golden wind #headcanon #jjba x music #spotify #playlist #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba

[angelica-song]

Reminder: Slow progress is better than no progress. Stay positive and never give up! 📝💪

___________BASE__________

Mesh Head: LeLUTKA Ryn Head Skin: [avarosa] Hani LeL EVO X [AD] Lips: [avarosa] Coco HD Lips [AD] (80% blend) Other lipstick displayed: [avarosa] Aloy HD Lips [AD]

___________01__________

Hair: [monso] Amberly Hair @Collabor88 !NEW! [AD] Glasses: [Cubic Cherry] - Gaia glasses [AD] Bag: =Zenith=leather school bag [AD] Drink: Lavish / Thirsty One Outfit: cheezu. doa outfit Shoes: OKUMA - Wednesday @equal10

Pose: BESHA Poses: Sweet cuties Gacha / Pose 7

___________02__________

Hair: [monso] Belinha Hair @Anthem !NEW! [AD] Lunchbox: kotte - onigiri lunch box - neko [AD] Top: NINI Planet. Hype Boy shirts [AD] Bottom: [V.C.LAB] HELIUM Shoes: Semller - Worn Canvas Hi Tops Valentine Cream

Pose: Lyrium. Sunny Static 3

___________03__________

Hair: [monso] Mel2 Hair [AD] Hairpins: cheezu. summer hair pin set Book: .WARETA. Dear Diary Set Scrunchie: .miss chelsea. Riya Watch: [ kunst ] - Chronos Watch V2 Dress: *The Mystic* Carline Dress [AD] Backpack: *The Mystic*Harajuku  backpack [AD] Shoes: [Dazzling] Adeline platforms

Pose: - Sweet Art - Lena Static 2m

___________04__________

Hair: [monso] Layka Hair [AD] Hairband: :uzu: heart gem hairband Bag: =Zenith=Leather Belt Bag Glasses: kotte - rita glasses [AD] Book: kotte - manga cafe - manga book 4 [AD] Outfit: :uzu: wonyo uniform Shoes + Socks: Vincue / Lolie

Pose: versuta. vanilla // 2

___________05__________

Hair: [monso] Saber Hair [AD] Headphones: Lavish / Headset @equal10 Phone: - Sweet Art - Kawaii Phone Set Outfit: {HIME*DREAM} Riley Socks: NINI Planet. Fluffy Fluffy! [AD] Shoes: Lyrium. Zipper Chunky Sneakers

Pose: Kirin - Bunny Floatie Pose 7

___________DECOR__________

.WARETA. Dear Diary Set The Secret Store - Pencil Case

thank you all~ ♥

View On Flickr

#secondlife #second life #sl

[zillyeh]

From the Cracks

companion piece to this one

Characters: Zipper Anthem, Castel Baclef

The near open walls of the Serpent’s Hands breezy cathedral let in every sound from the Old North. The repairs that had been done over the sweeps were never structurally sound enough to keep out the elements. It seemed like this time the ON was really putting in some effort, though. They had the funds and manpower for it now. Crumbled walls had real supports jutting out from the top, reaching past where there once may have been stained glass windows to touch the well abused roof.

At the base of the construction, looking far too long and gangly on the floor, squatted a purpleblood. The old drone-brick that still stood strong behind the pulpit interested him, much to the chagrin of the Undertaker.

She thought she was doing enough for him- keeping his uppity little south city bakery from getting Smiles branded bricks through his window- but no. His little bestie twisted her arm with another bribe to let him up here. In her church. 

If money weren't such a problem she never would have entertained this.

"Have you found what you're looking for yet or what?" Undertaker Anthem demanded, her voice rough and annoyed through her mask. Castel flinched at the sound of her voice, but let out a gentle hum in response.

"I may be getting close," he said, leafing through his old, battered book. "It is supposed to be low enough for the damage not to have reached…" The lilt of an Enfaris accent kissed the edges of his words, making Zippie grimace more. Clowns. He lacked the paint, but that didn’t matter. It couldn't. She couldn't afford to not be on edge.

"You could always help," he continued, "It might be-"

"No. I'm staying parked right here." For all her posturing and glares, her voice nearly gave way to the fear underlining her behavior. 

"Relax your shoulders, then." 

"Excuse me?"

"I feel your tension from here," he said with a flippant wave of his hand. "Even if I did bite, my teeth are rather flat, no?"

When she didn't respond, he turned. He flinched once more, struck by one of the daggers she was glaring into his head. He huffed, making some show of not looking away, pretending she wasn't scary. She was. Even seeing past the hardness in her silvery eyes- to her exhaustion- didn't change that.

Castel tilted his head curiously, fixated on her for a moment,  before shaking his head back to the bricks.

“It’s a spiral of names,” he started as if she’d asked. “Small, barely meant to be noticeable. Etched with an errant piece of metal off of one of my ancestors’ companions’ hands.”

Ancestors. The ones that truly existed were nothing but trouble. Bessba’s? Jackass. This guy’s? Forcing him into her church to look for more clues about his silly little existence. Those who could trace their lines like that- who knew that someone specific was responsible for them- were just so…

Annoying.

He traced his long, skinny fingers along the brick, continuing to talk to her (or himself, it was hard to tell) as he scooted further down the wall.

“It's supposed to be at about sitting height, thank goodness. It would be helpful if these walls weren't so dusty, but who am I to- oh!”

Castel's sudden noise and spring to action made Zippie jump. The purple grabbed a brush from his pocket, enthusiastically sweeping at a cracked brick near the middle of the wall. Zippie clenched her teeth, watching him with something beginning to approach curiosity. Some dusty graffiti was that exciting?

“Find what you're looking for, finally?” Zippie asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Shush- I mean yes, sorry, I just don't want the integrity of the brick to be compromised. Oh look at that, that must be all of them…” It sounded like he found what he was looking for. As much as she didn't want to turn her back to him, she had other things to do. He'd be done soon enough. Zippie turned back to her pulpit as he talked to himself, sketching in his notebook.

“Baclef of course, Payark, Sclera, Humera… Goz…. jam or is that silent? H sound maybe, Aarika-”

 Castel’s mumbling suddenly felt like a brick to the back of the head. For a moment she thought she misheard him, but the goosebumps on her arms were too solid for that to be the case.

“What did you just say?” she asked lowly, dangerously. She did not turn to face him.

“...Aarika? Sorry, I know I shouldn't speak that name too loud, but-”

“Before that.”

“Oh! Goz-Gozjam?” The sitting purple adjusted his glasses on his long broad nose. “Am I pronouncing that incorrectly?”

“No, you're not,” Zippie said before she could stop herself.

“Okay!” he said cheerily. He then paused and looked to the Undertaker, who'd turned to face him. The purple's fear of her had been overridden with curiosity. He looked at her, really looked at her and said:

“Your eyes… your pupils are teardrop shaped.” Given his tone, that meant something to him. Zippie hissed lowly behind her mask, straightening her posture further. He flipped through one of the weathered old journals he brought with him, but didn't look like he was reading it as he continued.

“‘It's a funny thing, seeing Gozjam with her eyes uncovered. Rare a sight as it is. So many of us have heavy eyes, it's the nature of our species, but the droop of her lids and the shape of her pupils truly ice the cake of her melancholy. Were she anyone else, I'd only call them droplets- but with her? To refer to them as anything but tear drops would do a poetic disservice to her character.’”

“Stop it,” Zippie ordered as he took in another breath to speak. He stubbornly opened his mouth again.

“‘It's a shame she has to hide them, and the unfortunate rest of her face. She is more lovely than-”

“I said enough,” she snarled this time. She felt something dangerous under her skin. Electric. Defensive. “Are you done over there? Did you get what you wanted? I didn't say you could be here all night.” He paid her bristling no mind, fully facing her on his knees. Examining her from his distance away. Seeing her.

“You don’t even know, do you?” There was something soft to his voice that made her want to punch him. “Anthem, my intention is not to distress you, but-”

“You’re failing, Baclef. I think it’s time for you to go.” It didn’t sound like she’d take arguing well. He sighed, glanced back at the wall, and began to stand. In that same instance, something dawned on her that turned her blood to ice- and her behavior violent. She tugged him up by the collar while he was still knelt down. Her eyes were wide now, showing off the entirety of those teardrops.

“What else does it say about her in those books of yours?” she asked with a panic that didn’t suit her. The rasp in her voice was more prevalent when she raised her voice like that, making her all the more terrifying. Castel stammered. He was unused to being roughhoused, even more so at this angle.

“N-nothing, they were friends that’s-”

“Physically,” she growled, shaking him again. He let out an honest-to-Messiahs eep. 

“He didn’t- tall? Skinny, robot arms-” Another shake interrupted him. He frantically searched his memory for the correct answer. When he looked her in her eyes, damaged red sclera and silvery pupils above a tight leather mask, it clicked.

“Oh, oh- nothing, nothing. I swear on my life he never described her past shape. It was a secret that he kept until they destroyed this place. I always thought it was rather obvious, since- ah!” 

Zipper shoved him back, looking like a snake about to strike. Castel dusted himself off, scrambling back towards the wall as she approached. Unbidden sparks lit up the rivets at the back of her neck, letting off small, ribbon-like bursts of electricity.

“I could be wrong?” he offered, clearly wishing he was less motor mouthed. “I could be way off. It doesn’t matter. Even if I knew I wouldn’t- I couldn’t. For the obvious wrong it would be of course, but-”

“But?” she said through clearly clenched teeth behind that zipper. Her sparking wasn’t getting worse, but it wasn’t stopping.

“...Our ancestors were friends.”

That stopped her in her tracks. The Undertaker swayed on her boots, clenching and unclenching of her fists without taking her eyes off of the heap of giant purpleblood on the ground.

“Get the fuck out of my church,” she said, something almost airy about her tone this time. The shift startled him enough to grab his things in one swift motion.

“Yes ma’am. Sir. I’m- I’m sorry.” Castel scrambled to his feet, still making her wince when he was drawn to his full height. He nearly dropped his books in his haste to leave.

“I’ll have, um, our mutual contact compensate for the trouble,” he called back as he strode towards the doors. “I really am-” He stumbled a bit over a piece of rubble that hadn’t been moved yet, making more of a show of leaving than this already was. 

Zippie stayed unmoving where he left her, staring at that corner of wall. The slam of the church doors woke her back up, and with a shake of her head she said:

“Annoying.”

#Zilly drabbles #Castel tag #Castel Baclef #Zippie tag #Zipper Anthem #i didnt edit this goodnight

[shopatwhitneyscloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Spyder Anthem Insulated Geo Ski Snowboard Jacket NWT.

[themidnightramblers]

The Midnight Ramblers: The best of the best 

A roundup of some fan favorites among the band’s classic repertoire: 

Bought on the Never Never, 1964, a youth anthem for multiple generations, with its sneering vocals, blasts of tightly wound guitar and propulsive hand claps, this is the song that launched the Ramblers, announcing not only a new talent but also a new attitude for in-the-know teens. 

On the Lash, 1964, a feel-good ode to getting snockered with your mates, this early classic is the band’s take on the Mersey Beat sound put forth by the likes of the Beatles and Gerry and the Pacemakers. This rollicking rocker has become a beloved soundtrack for nights out at the pub, with its undeniable blend of twangy guitars, brassy drums, and call and response vocals. 

Portrait of the Artist, 1967, a high-low masterpiece, from its well-heeled literary references to its raw fist of creative intention, with slashing guitar licks being traded by Dante and Mal over a steady backbeat that invokes a new generation of artists and dreamers marching on the streets. 

The Strip, 1969, penned while the band was summering in LA, it’s known as the last song co-written by Mal, although he didn’t live to record it. The shimmering, psychedelic guitar is contrasted by an off-kilter, frenetic beat that hints at the tension of the Laurel Canyon flower power folk scene going electric and confronting the darker shadows that would haunt the ’70s. 

Fracas, 1970, one of a handful of tracks in the band’s repertoire credited solely to Dante, this bluesy ballad with its pretty piano intro, bittersweet slide guitar, and buttery accents of cymbal has long been known as a love song inspired by Anke during the brief months the two were a happy couple. (Its title “Fracas” is, obviously, a nod to Anke’s signature scent.) 

Last Train in the Station, 1971, an up-tempo country rock ballad with an underpinning of barrelhouse piano accented by Jack’s shimmering tambourine, and Dante’s searing guitar solo. Its rollicking sing-along chorus is as anthemic as anything the band has written.

Zippers and Bows, 1974, a sexy strutter, with its four on the floor beat nodding to the dance floor cool of the disco era, not to mention its overheated sax solo, and Jacks’ vocals at their sultriest and most alluring, as he teases a prospective lover about his plans for the evening’s denouement.  

[tonyschwery]

In 1971, The Rolling Stones released "Sticky Fingers," featuring the classic rock anthem "Brown Sugar." The album's cover, designed by Andy Warhol, is famous for its provocative and innovative zipper design.

#rollingstones #brassmonkeydj #mickjagger

#music facts #rock #rock bands #rock music #rock n roll #facts

[pli1999]

Party Like It's 1999 12/2/23

All I Want for Christmas Is Mairah Edition

The Wallflowers – “Sixth Avenue Heartache”

Radiohead – “My Iron Lung”

Squirrel Nut Zippers – “Hell”

The Mighty Mighty Bosstones – “The Impression That I Get”

Save Farris – “Come On Eileen”

No Doubt – “Spiderwebs”

Good Charlotte – “The Anthem”

Smash Mouth – “Walking on the Sun”

Jimmy Eat World – “Last Christmas”

The Lonely Island featuring Justin Timberlake – “Dick in a Box”

Mariah Carey – “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”

Mariah Carey – “Shake It Off”

Mariah Carey – “Dreamlover”

Big Pun featuring Joe – “Still Not a Player”

Ja Rule featuring Ashanti – “Always on Time”

Destiny’s Child – “Bills, Bills, Bills”

Jay-Z featuring UGK – “Big Pimpin’”

Montell Jordan – “This is How We Do It”

Boyz II Men – “Motownphilly”

Spice Girls – “Wannabe”

Ace of Base – “The Sign”

Backstreet Boys – “I Want It That Way”

N’SYNC – “Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays”

Mariah Carey – “Always Be My Baby”

Mariah Carey – “Emotions”

Mariah Carey featuring ODB – “Fantasy (Remix)”

Juvenile – “Back That Azz Up”

Ginuwine – “Pony”

50 Cent – “In Da Club”

Britney Spears – “…Baby One More Time”

Shania Twain – “Man! I Feel Like a Woman”

Right Said Fred – “I’m Too Sexy”

C+C Music Factory – “Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now)”

Mariah Carey – “Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)”

Mariah Carey – “All I Want for Christmas is You”

Mariah Carey featuring Jay-Z – “Heartbreaker”

Mariah Carey – “Honey”

Mary J. Blige – “Family Affair”

Blackstreet featuring Dr. Dre – “No Diggity”

TLC – “Creep”

Salt-N-Pepa – “Shoop”

Hanson – “Mmmbop”

The Rembrandts – “I’ll Be There Fort You”

The Killers – “Somebody Told Me”

Lit – “My Own Worst Enemy”

Blur – “Song 2”

Yellowcard – “Ocean Avenue”

Chumbawamba – “Tubthumping”

Spice Girls – “Spice Up Your Life”

Bell Biv Devoe – “Poison”

Aqua – “Barbie Girl”

Cher – “Believe”

Janet Jackson – “If”

Sisqo – “Thong Song”

Backstreet Boys – “The Call”

Mariah Carey – “Someday”

Mariah Carey – “Obsessed”

Mariah Carey – “Touch My Body”

Big Mountain – “Baby I Love Your Way”

Inner Circle – “Sweat (A La La La Long)”

Natasha Bedingfield – “Unwritten”

Michelle Branch – “Breathe”

Semisonic – “Closing Time”

The Fray – “Over My Head (Cable Car)”

Counting Crows – “A Long December”

Hoobastank – “The Reason”

Dido – “Thank You”

#90snight #partylikeits1999 #aughts

[existentialmagazine]

Review: Maya Yenn’s newest alternative-pop single ‘Sour Grapes’ wistfully longs for childhood whilst declaring itself as an anthem for those lost in adulthood

Independant producer, singer, and songwriter Maya Yenn found her musical place within a glossy alt-pop sound, tinged with shades of contemporary R&B and storytelling that can’t help but feature darker themes against the backdrop of a upbeat instrumental-scape. Taking inspiration from the sound of artists like Glass Animals and Jungle, as well as alt-R&B innovators like James Blake and BANKS, Maya Yenn accumulates elements from the best and interweaves it into her own staple brand of dark-pop alike no other. Following on from the success of her first three singles that have accumulated over 65,000 streams on Spotify, Maya returns with her newest existential offering ‘Sour Grapes’ that’ll leave you dancing (and over-thinking) long after pressing play.

Crafting a lyrical journey that’s deeply thought-out, ‘Sour Grapes’ comes through your speakers and delves right under your skin to get at a burning existentialism and distaste for adulthood, all underpinned by a youthful nostalgia that yearns for the simple days of being young once again. From the dreams of a child that anticipated the freedom of being older to the irony that as you grow up you more frequently desire to go back and have no responsibilities, ‘Sour Grapes’ captures it all and sees Maya touching upon the realities of a world where you have to find your place whilst being served a severe cost-of-living crisis in the UK, an increasingly digital emphasis and impending climate disaster. Completely overwhelmed, her lyricism spills with a smothering sense of anxiety and unhappiness, ‘don’t think that I can take it if this is all that there is.’ Feeling let down by the magical freedoms imagined in childhood, ‘Sour Grapes’ feels like running into a brick wall and facing the truth, no matter how cold, hard and unexpected it feels: ‘Growing up left a bad taste in my mouth.’ Highly resonant lines like ‘supposed to be on top now, supposed to have it all figured out now’ seep with fear, feeding into the unrealistic expectations from society to know what you’re doing and be paving out a successful career in your 20s, as well as a self-awareness that life takes a little more work than Maya ever bargained for. Frankly surrounded by disaster and the sense of being thrown in the deep end, ‘Sour Grapes’ captures it all without any kind of watering down, marking itself as an anthem for a generation filled with a future of uncertainty and constantly on the edge of running from it all: ‘maybe I’ll move to a new place, and all my problems will go away.’

When explaining the meaning behind the song, Yenn elaborated that, “It’s about a lot of things to me but on a very personal level, ‘Sour Grapes’ is an attempt to make peace with adult life not being all it’s cracked up to be. I’m definitely making fun of myself a little bit in the song for being a kind of a brat but also earnestly frustrated with how hard being an adult often is.”

As it wields harsh realities between its nearing three minute bookends, ‘Sour Grapes’ playfully contrasts its heavy message with a more hopeful, childlike soundscape melding fun with a dark-pop blur around the edges. Even the opening alone feels almost theatrical, commencing with the click of a loading cassette tape and a vibrant electric guitar quickly cut short by a video game gun shaking you out of your daydreams and into reality. Pounding beats and 8-bit-sounding bass find their home in the verses, picked up by colourful pops of sound that errs between moody in its lower tones whilst seriously catchy in how it pulsates. Capturing an auditory playground filled with samples from everyday objects slotted throughout makes ‘Sour Grapes’ all the more down-to-earth, utilising an array of Gameboy-style pings, juvenile sounding mouth pops, slurping drinks and zippers sliding that together truly hone in a soundscape built up to be not just a song but an experience that takes you back to your youth. The selected sounds are all distinctly older too, reminiscing on an age that wasn’t consumed by social media and a need to constantly be online, feeling almost lost in the scope of the modern world. As the chorus thrives with an increased volume, more dominant instrumentals and bright sound additions, ‘Sour Grapes’ wonderfully hooks you on its distinctive vibe and retro emphasis. As Maya delivers a witty dialogue of her stresses and woes, her vocals edge between spoken-sung and an absolutely radiant soaring range, making the track feel all the more personable and real. The final chorus adds trumpets and horns to the already eccentric soundscape, with Maya championing an entire world of sound and commandeering it to be her own.

Check out ‘Sour Grapes’ for yourself here to enjoy the true scope of Maya’s lyricism and her creative, utterly addictive sound!

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator

#music #singlereview #mayayenn

[memidgenotsofteroreasier]

A-twitter

No, I don’t tweet. I’m going on a journey. There is a song in the Sacred Harp, Farewell Anthem, that begins, “My friends, I am going a long and tedious journey never to return.” This is only a car trip, overnight so I don’t have to make the whole trip in one day. The place I will stay is 64 miles out of the way, which causes me to question my wisdom, but I like camping and what the heck. 

Telegraphing that I’m going on a trip makes me somewhat paranoid (or more so) but there are plenty of people around and the cats will be fed. Instead of the usual, scurrying around putting things together, I’m sitting in front of the laptop.

This is a bad omen. I’ll be sitting when I drive, and setting up the tent will be a chore once I get there, but hey, it’s exercise. Like the last time I tried to camp, I think I’ll hurl the tent into the car without benefit of the zipper bag. A friend told me that they always upgrade to a more commodious carry-bag after they buy a tent. Wise people. Wish me luck.

[anthemglobal]

 ANTHEM IFR Coverall

lPermanent Flame Retardant Anthem USA, designs & engineers a range of workwear considering optimum safety, Ergonomics, Comfort meeting 100%HSE parameters.Anthem Research Labs, Continuously develop performance materials & designs for dynamic protection requirements.

Inherent Flame RetardantThis Article is Inherent Flame Retardant, Anti Static Guaranteed Protection Performance.Fabric 185 GSM.Desert Cool, Soft Comfort feel, for longer duration working, Highly durable.

FEATURES.:

• Certified Pass on Manikin forFlash Fire Test.

• 10 Pockets on Chest, Sleeve, Leg Sides, Pass Thru, Hips & Knee.

• Secured & Adjustable Neck, Cuff & Ankle

• Flexible Concealed Elastic Waist.47 Action Back For Flexible & Free BodyMovement.

•Elasticated Waist Size

• Strong Zipper & metal closures,Covered for Non Contact with Body

• Radio & Collar Loop.

• Perma Crease On Legs

• Scam Stitch IFR-ARAMID THREADDouble StrongStitch , BarTacked Stress Points,

#coverall #overall #workwear #coveralls #workinggloves #m #safetyfirst #workingvest #safetywear #aprons #fire #industrialwear #safetyshirts #bags #protactiveclothing #steelwork #workingpant #workingjacket #rescue #protactivewear #safetybelt #welding #harrness #meshjacket #covid #retardant #reflectivetape #frc #flameresistant #reflctivewear