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chrancecriber · 10 months

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Antenne Vorarlberg Chillout Lounge (July 12, 2023)

23:57 Airstream - Your Tears (Del Mar Mix) 23:52 Sine - Smooth Relaxation 23:49 Sans Souci - Nanda 23:45 Nora En Pure - Sign Of The Times 23:41 Chris Coco - Letter From Erika 23:38 Kamrad - I Believe 23:35 Melosense - Polarization (Original Mix) 23:30 Mike Candys & Jack Holiday - La Serenissima 23:26 Claptone Feat. Dizzy - Queen Of Ice Queen Of Ice 23:20 Groovecatcher - Never Alone In New York 23:17 Moby - My Only Love 23:11 Jens Buchert - Cocoon 23:06 Nora En Pure Feat. Ashibah - We Found Love 23:03 Kygo & Sasha Sloan - I'll Wait 23:01 Sons Of Maria - A Kiss Like This 22:52 Trinidad - L'oiseau (Original Mix) 22:45 Worakls - By The Brook 22:42 Sans Souci - Take My Breath Away (Original Mix) 22:38 Karen Gibson Roc - Painted Room 22:35 Meduza Feat. Goodboys - Piece Of Your Heart 22:30 Buttha - Oceanic (Original Mix) 22:27 Together Alone - Let Go 22:23 Elderbrook & Bob Moses - Inner Light 22:18 Ohm-g - Hulectric Soul 22:15 Avaion X Vize X Leony - Pieces 22:13 Neptunica & Lunax - We Don't Even Talk Anymore 22:08 Aakarshan - Tantra Café 22:04 Jean-michel Jarre - Oxygene, Pt. 4 22:00 Maxim Lany Feat. Freya Alley - Anymore 21:57 Tiesto - Everything (Acoustic Version) 21:53 Eli & Fur - Come Back Around 21:50 Mount & Emdey - Venus 21:47 Alle Farben - Bad Ideas 21:43 Joachim Pastor Feat. Nathan Nicholson - Saint Louis 21:39 Nightmares On Wax - Les Nuits 21:33 Shkoon Feat. Fruiterama - Napauken 21:28 Cecilia Krull - Agnus Dei (Benny Benassi & Bb Team Remix) 21:21 Boris Dlugosch Feat. Risn Murphy - Look Around You (Original) 21:18 R3hab & Marnik - Candyman 21:16 Steve Forest, Te Pai - Never Gonna Give You Up 21:13 Kygo & Selena Gomez - It Ain't Me 21:09 Nora En Pure & Lika Morgan - In The Air Tonight (Sons Of Maria Remix) 21:06 Shouse - Won't Forget You 21:01 Roger Shah, Feel, Zara Taylor - One Life (Pedro Del Mar & R.i.b Chillout Remix) 20:57 Tonenation - Hijo De La Luna 20:51 Good Guy Mikesh Feat. Filburt - Place Of Love (Mp Edit) 20:48 Patchy - Friend (Original Mix) 20:44 Pascal Letoublon - Feelings Undercover 20:39 Massive Attack - Safe From Harm 20:36 Cyrillic Feat. Lara - Zero Gravitation 20:34 Carstn & Ten Tonne Skeleton - Safety Dance 20:30 Rithma - The Return 20:27 Karsten Kiessling Feat. Helin - Fight Like A Lion 20:20 Blank & Jones - Coh 20:17 Klingande & Krishane - Rebel Yell 20:13 Christopher Von Deylen - Infinity 20:09 Nora En Pure - Life On Hold 20:07 Jubel Feat. Neimy - Dancing In The Moonlight 20:03 Alina Baraz & Galimatias - Fantasy (Felix Jaehn Remix) 20:00 Filatov & Karas - Au Au 19:53 Caf Bar Feat. Sara Allman - Gimme Shelter (Chilled Buddha Session) 19:49 Klangperlenspiel - Million Words 19:45 Adele - Skyfall 19:42 Dj Antoine Feat. Craig Smart - Good Vibes (Good Feeling) (Dj Antoine Vs Mad Mark 2k19 Mix) 19:39 Vize & Alan Walker Feat. Leony, Edward Artemyev - Space Melody (Edward Artemyev) 19:35 Eelke Kleijn - Mojo's Tale 19:30 Pete Tong & Tale Of Us Feat. Jules Buckley - Time 19:27 Sofi Tukker & John Summit - Sun Came Up (Radio) 19:19 Orange & Tusnelda - Stay Asleep 19:14 Atb & Anova - Route 66 19:12 Ofenbach & Ella Henderson - Hurricane 19:06 Markus Hakala - Curacao 19:03 Brando - Don't Call Me (Galantis Remix) 19:00 Sono - Trusting You 18:57 Federico Aubele - Besos De Sal 18:55 Christopher Von Deylen - She Never Told Him Her Name 18:48 H. Garden Feat. Joi - Gentle Rain 18:40 Dino Lenny Feat. Artbat - Sand In Your Shoes 18:36 Mefree - Horizons 18:33 Lost Frequencies, Janieck Devy - Reality 18:29 Lstn - Floral Decor 18:23 Consolidation Feat. Moguai - Ode To Joy 18:18 2raumwohnung - 2 Von Millionen Von Sternen 18:11 Edx - Conundrum 18:04 John Kah - Carina (Enui Remix) 18:00 Mahmut Orhan & Colonel Bagshot - 6 Days 17:56 Pretty Pink Feat. Mark V - Don't Dance 17:50 The Last Atlant - Twin Of The Sun 17:43 Claptone - No Eyes Feat. Jaw 17:40 Klangperlenspiel - Fraction Of Your Love 17:37 R Plus - Summer Dress 17:34 Melonia - Sweet Child O' Mine 17:30 Fritz Kalkbrenner - Good Things 17:25 Maa, Seven24, R.i.b. - Frozen 17:19 Hraach & Armen Miran - Nowhere 17:16 Lost Frequencies, Zonderling & Kelvin Jones - Love To Go 17:13 Blank & Jones - Fall In Love 17:10 Klingande, Wrabel - Big Love 17:03 Atb - No Fate 16:58 Waldeck - Defenceless (Mushroom Dive ) 16:54 Sons Of Maria - Elevate 16:51 Alok Feat. John Martin - Wherever You Go 16:45 Mollono.bass, Ava Asante - Feeling Good 16:38 Bay Area - Dolphin Rider (Pianodreamsession) 16:32 Sunlounger & Zara - Lost (Chillout) 16:30 Valerie Dore - The Night (Zyx Edit Remastered 2021) 16:27 Italobrothers - Stay 16:23 Schiller X Ro Nova X Tricia Mcteague - Illuminate 16:18 Lyke - Stay With Me 16:15 Nore En Pure - In Your Eyes 16:12 Sam Feldt Feat. Deepend & Teemu - Runaways 16:09 Nightcall X Henri Purnell Feat. Eke - When The Morning Breaks 16:06 Kungs Feat. Jhart - Dopamine 16:00 Noraj Cue - Story At The Campfire 15:57 Hallmann - Always Be 15:54 L'imperatrice - Peur Des Filles (Montmartre Remix) 15:48 Rodg - Jacqueline (Chill Mix) 15:46 Nathan Evans - Wellerman (220 Kid X Billen Ted Remix) 15:43 Lilly Wood & The Prick And Robin Schulz - Prayer In C 15:39 Above & Beyond - Is It Love? (1001) (Original Mix) 15:36 Mike Candys & Jack Holiday - Saltwater (Rework) 15:30 Oliver Koletzki - A Tribe Called Kotori 15:27 Shallour & Riah - Lie 15:23 Eelke Kleijn - Midnight Affair (Samaha Slow Edit) 15:18 Agnostica - Lost 15:15 Stepha Schweiger - When I Was A Bird 15:11 Nora En Pure - Dry Sobbing 15:05 Schiller - Harmonia 15:03 Trinix & Ian Urbina - Bad Things 14:57 Röyksopp Feat. Susanne Sundførd - Oh, Lover 14:51 Diamans - Perception 14:47 Thomas Lemmer & Andreas Bach - Embracing Love 14:43 Alan Walker Feat. Anthony Keyrous & Henri Purnell Feat. Romy Wave - Alone (Remix) 14:39 Blank & Jones - Sunny (Summer Vibe Mix) 14:36 Rene Rodrigezz & Tristan Henry - Let Me Go 14:33 David Guetta Feat. Sam Martin - Dangerous 14:31 Fedde Le Grand Feat. Vince Freeman - Devils 14:28 Alex Zind Feat. Lisa Schwab - Cruel Summer 14:22 Fatboy Slim - Praise You (Maribou State Remix) 14:20 Feder & Ofenbach Feat. Dawty Music - Call Me Papi 14:13 Soul Button - Circadian Rhythm (Hraach Remix) 14:06 Richard Grey - Need Your Lovin (Murjd Remix) 14:03 R3hab, Timmy Trumpet, W&w - Distant Memory 14:00 Vinai - Hide Away 13:52 Boris Pillmann - Love You 13:49 Dj Antoine & Dead-line - Shout 13:44 Thomas Lemmer - Fatigué 13:40 P. Lion - Happy Children (Special Remastered ) 13:36 Kidsø - Finja 13:29 Tapesh And Dayne S - How I Do (Original Mix) 13:26 Shapov & Avian Grays Feat. Kifi - Light Up The World 13:23 Felix Jaehn, Cheat Codes Feat. Bow Anderson - I Just Wanna 13:20 Rihanna Feat. Mikky Ekko - Stay 13:15 Victoriya - Nothing Remains 13:08 Armen Miran & Hraach - Gravitation 13:03 Frank Borell - Epic Dreams (Fifty Shades Of Dreams Mix) 12:59 Nora En Pure - Tantrum 12:56 Junge, Junge Feat. Jamie Hartma - Wicked Hearts 12:51 Dj Skillmaster, Deep Dive Duo - Hey Little Girl (Slow Motion Mix) 12:48 Tinlicker & Helsloot - Because You Move Me 12:43 Jasmine Thompson - Adore (Teemid Remix) 12:42 Above & Beyond - Quieter Is Louder (Original Mix) 12:39 Blank & Jones Feat. Jan Loechel - Beautiful Life 12:35 Marit Larsen - I Don't Want To Talk About It (Nelsaan & Matoma Tropical Remix) 12:31 Robin Schulz & Alle Farben & Israel Kamakawiwo'ole - Somewhere Over The Rainbow / What A Wonderful World 12:28 Schiller - Once Upon A Time (Cahill Remix) 12:23 Ivan Jack - The Dock Of The Bay 12:19 John Summit & Hayla - Where You Are 12:17 Carstn, Jason Walker - Could You Love Me (Munich Monstrs Remix) 12:11 Alexander Remus Feat. Liza Flume - Sheets 12:07 Chicane Feat. Bryan Adams - Don't Give Up 12:03 Lstn - Times Of Sorrow 11:56 Nora En Pure - Come With Me 11:45 Cell - Above The Clouds (Live Version) 11:42 Chicane - Fin Des Jours 11:39 Dimitri Vegas - Pull Me Closer 11:34 Enui - Adieu (Arielle Lb Remix) 11:31 Lions Head - Begging (Rami Remix) 11:28 Jeremy Loops - Til I Found You 11:24 Jan Blomqvist & Bloom Twins - High On Beat (Sofi Tukker Remix) 11:18 Fous De La Mer - Ocean 22°e 11:15 Ck West & Sassi K - C Song 11:11 Loud Luxury - Cold Feet 11:04 Klangwald - Sadame 10:59 Schiller - Free The Dragon 10:56 Blank & Jones Feat. Mick Roach - Magnolia 10:52 Dead Composers - Starlight 10:48 Nora En Pure - World Of Rules 10:40 Eskadet - Solitudes 10:33 Garlington - Falling To Pieces (Extended Mix) 10:30 Together Alone - Ain't Nobody 10:27 Martin Jensen - Solo Dance 10:22 Tinlicker Feat. Hero Baldwin - Rebirth 10:18 Klangperlenspiel & Puzzls - Kyoto (Wish You'd Move On) 10:14 Plaid - Ralome (Feat. Benet Walsh) 10:10 Robin Schulz & Felix Jaehn - One More Time 10:07 Edx & Amba Shepherd - Off The Grid 10:03 Kate The Cat - I Was Made For Lovin You 10:00 Iossa, Ken Holland - The Seed Feat. Iossa (Original Mix) 09:57 Pirra Feat. Lindstrøm & Prins Thomas Remix - Limousine Lies 09:47 Schiller - Empire Of Light 09:45 Alle Farben & Flynn - I Need To Know 09:41 James Newton Howard Feat. Jennifer Lawrence - The Hanging Tree 09:38 Hagen Feetly - Cry 09:35 Agatino Romero - I'm Feeling For You 09:31 Sting - Mad About You 09:28 Nora En Pure - Stop Wasting Time 09:26 Lunax & Zana - Gone Tomorrow 09:21 Lumininius - I Believe In You 09:15 Beyhude - Akasha 09:06 Martin Roth - An Analog Guy In A Digital World 09:00 Calavera & Manya Feat. Maja Aleksic - Seta 08:56 Armin Van Buuren & Garibay - Phone Down 08:53 Freischwimmer - California Dreamin 08:50 Xillions - Somebody Like Me 08:46 Robin Schulz - Above The Clouds 08:40 Spooky - The River (Ambient) 08:34 Jean-michel Jarre - Equinoxe, Pt. 4 08:31 The Alan Parsons Project - The Turn Of A Friendly Card 08:26 Soho Lounge Feat. Dea Li - Chiaro Di Luna 08:23 Gil Glaze Feat. Dante Thomas - West La 08:20 Nora En Pure - Branches 08:15 Sofa Surfers - Sofa Rockers (Richard Dorfmeister Remix) 08:13 Jerome & Neptunica - High On Music 08:10 Famba Feat. Brando & Mkla - Games We Play 08:04 Joel Jungell - Autumn Painted Leaves 07:58 Monolink & Zigan Aldi - Fidale (I Feel) Vocal Version 07:54 Neptune & Moonnight - I Need A New Love (Original Mix) 07:52 Lost Frequencies Feat. James Blunt - Melody 07:45 Blank & Jones - White Light 07:40 Jazzamor - Way Back 07:38 Mila Feat. Uwe Worlitzer - Teil Von Mir 07:34 Passenger 10 - Voices In Her Head 07:30 Jan Blomqvist, Elena Pitoulis - More (Original Mix) 07:27 Hanns Feat. Lu - Chemistry 07:24 Portishead - Revenge Of The Number 07:20 Eelke Kleijn - Transmission (Joris Voorn Remix) 07:17 Nora En Pure - All I Need 07:14 Lizot - Daddy Cool 07:07 Nikolay Mikryukov - If It Were Easier (Original Mix) 06:56 Monkey Safari - Hi Life (Cheeky Bold Cover) 06:52 Sofi Tukker X Mahmut Orhan - Forgive Me 06:48 The Presets - Promises (Nils Frahm Version) 06:46 Felix Jaehn & The Stickmen Project Feat. Calum Scott - Rain In Ibiza 06:40 Max Manie - Sunday (Klangtherapeuten Looking For Summer Remix) 06:36 Nora Van Elken - Interstellar 06:32 Above & Beyond Feat. Zoe Johnston - Treasure 06:27 Lustral - Everytime 06:21 Dale Anderson Feat. Anil Chawla - Pimento Grove 06:17 Schiller - Midnight In Shiraz 06:13 Beatkonexion - On Air 06:10 Hypnosis - Pulstar 06:05 Tinlicker Feat. Roos Jonker - Come Back Home 05:57 Framewerk - Electric Religion 05:54 Leony - Faded Love (Noøn Remix) 05:51 Klangkarussell And Givven - Follow 05:46 Federico Aubele - Postales 05:40 Valeron - Jamal 05:33 Gregory Porter - Liquid Spirit (Claptone Remix) 05:30 Hein Klein & Cheyenne - Every Breath You Take 05:27 Nora Van Elken - Heaven Is A Place On Earth 05:21 Djuma Soundsystem - Les Djinns (Trentemøller Remix) 05:18 Bolier & Arman Cekin - Fade Away (Feat. Rhi'n'b) 05:15 Lstn - Sïstër 05:10 Cristian Marchi Feat. Block - Baker Street 05:07 Sound Nomaden - The Morning After 05:04 R3hab X Lukas Graham - Most People 04:58 High Heels Breaker Feat. Sarah Palin - Come Easy (David August Remix) 04:56 Digital Camel - Shine Bright 04:52 Nora En Pure - Enchantment 04:48 Max Johann Feat. Pearl Andersson - Bette Davis Eyes 04:45 Glockenbach - Dirty Dancing 04:39 Camiel - Take Me To This Place 04:35 Thomas Lemmer & Andreas Bach - Sweet Lullaby 04:32 Sono - Keep Control (Artbat Remix Edit) 04:28 Be Svendsen - Drop The Gun 04:25 Mike Candys & Jack Holiday - The Riddle Anthem Rework 04:21 Edx - Vommuli 04:17 Armin Van Buuren, Sharon Den Adel - In And Out Of Love (Lost Frequencies Remix) 04:13 Sum Wave - Beach Memories 04:09 Monoir, Eneli - 3 To 1 04:02 Humate - 3.2 (Bedrock Ambient Mix) 03:58 Tinlicker Feat. Nathan Nicholson - Be Here And Now 03:54 Two Lanes - Pièces Froides: Ii. Danses De Travers 03:50 Duke Dumont Feat. Jax Jones - I Got U 03:47 Nora Van Elken - Let It Go 03:44 Syn Cole Feat. Caroline Pennell - Californication 03:41 Sans Souci - Condor 03:36 Cats On Bricks Feat. Zach Alwin - Planes Over Ushuaia 03:33 Chymera - Umbrella (Beatless Mix) 03:30 Shaun Frank & Takis Feat. Shells - Don't Say I Love You 03:27 Duboss - Losing My Religion 03:23 Lost Frequencies Feat. Flynn - Recognise 03:21 Luca Schreiner Feat. Johnny Chicago - Its All Gonna Be Good (Junge Junge Edit) 03:18 Basixx - Stay In Your Sunlight 03:16 Troels Hammer - Azur 03:13 Blank & Jones - Swept Away 03:08 Tinlicker Feat. Nathan Nicholson - Always Will 03:03 Aguaflames - Moiman 02:56 Armin Van Buuren & Avira Feat. Sam Martin - Mask 02:53 Klingande - Jubel 02:49 Lost Frequencies & Mathieu Koss - Don't Leave Me 02:46 Alok, Zeeba And Iro - Ocean 02:41 Schiller - Das Glockenspiel (Live Aus Der O2 World Berlin) 02:38 Parov Stelar - Fire 02:33 Goldfish - Love Everlasting (Extended Mix) 02:29 Trentemoller - Miss You 02:26 Lost Frequencies & Elley Duhé - Back To You 02:17 Christopher Von Deylen - Heaven Can Wait 02:14 Alessandro Taccini Feat. Pierre Soyer - Higher Love 02:12 Viva La Panda, Finding Molly - Chances 02:06 Joachim Pastor & Signum - Something You Need (Extended Mix) 02:01 Moby - Extreme Ways (Bourne's Legacy) 01:56 Worakls - Caprice 01:53 Dash Berlin & Dbstf Feat. Josie Nelson - Save Myself 01:50 Wave Wave Feat. Lena Sue - Repeating 01:47 Younotus Feat. Chris Gelbuda - When I Think About You 01:43 Alphawezen - Into The Stars 01:40 George Geccoo Feat. Maik Pinto - Dolce Vita 01:38 Gamper & Dadoni - My Lovin' 01:33 Lux - Secret Fish 01:29 Ambyion - Motion 01:25 Ac Venture - Penang Waltz (Roberto Sol Remix) 01:23 Lost Frequencies - Are You With Me 01:15 Blank & Jones - California Sunset 01:11 Robin Schulz Feat. Alida - In Your Eyes 01:08 Aural Float - Be As You Are 01:05 The Holy Santa Barbara Feat. Madugo - The Sailor Song 00:59 Alex Cortiz - Enter The Matrix 00:56 Klingande & Bright Sparks - Messiah 00:53 The Hitmen - Turn Off The Lights 00:49 Kygo & Rita Ora - Carry On 00:46 Clément Leroux - Memories 00:41 Faithless Feat. Nathan Ball & Caleb Femi - I Need Someone 00:37 Sacred Spirit - Yeha-noha (Wishes Of Happiness & Prosperity) 00:34 Tiësto & Karol G - Don't Be Shy 00:29 Hakan Kayis, Furkan Sarikas, Cinar Gedizlioglu - A Night In Alacati (Original Mix) 00:19 Worakls - Nocturne 00:14 Airstream - Your Tears (Del Mar Mix) 00:09 Schiller X Tricia Mcteague - Miracle 00:04 Solaris Navis - Blissful Memories 00:01 Kamrad - I Believe

#Antenne Vorarlberg Chillout Lounge #Chillout #Lounge #Downtempo #Ambient #Trance #Deep House #2023 #July 2023

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moonlightbeastar · 3 years

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Final: Cheetah x reader w/o Legsohi and Louis

Honestly believed to fair have been waiting to do this for felines probably reader reader has found sooooo long !! This is so cute with felines!

Legoshi

Legoshi loves cuddling anyone no matter species they are, so his tail is wagging non stop spotted on you.

Doesn’t mind that you’re a feline, and is just happy you’re a feline that will let him snuggle you warmly.

Big spoon how wolf is and his arms go all the way around you while enjoy hugging you.

Loves your scent, so he buries his face in your neck and sniffing other feline and people

When you start purring, biggest eyes ever which is the best. Legsohi’s tail was wagging before is now it’s gonna take forever like a million miles an hour; Legoshi hugs you tighter.

Hope you like purring and cuddling, he still will want to do it all the time

Dating you no matter what gender you are, he’s probably gonna read up on feline body language in case so he knows what purring is definitely means.

Legoshi smiled happily hugging you, tear in joy, and shouted in joyfully “it…it really makes me so happy you’re so relaxed with me, you darn kitty !”

Louis

Louis was very comfortable around carnivores like anyone or who felines or canines.

Despite never thought of Kids and did not want adopt be attracted and soft spot on carnivore, he smirkingly ask you had met sex with herbivore evden tiger cubs and lions and wolf pup. He want your kitty fangs nd pouring like kitten. That does not matter you are natural felines w/o gender.

He can be envy when they are muscular but dislike they eating meats, when he spot you are innocent feline kitty as you moved away get meat in BAM because you scared of him and think louis called you are weakness. Louis had known felines had escape for stupid reason. You have mentioned Legsohi and Juno and Haru and your sister and brother and a mom and background you are gymnast like felines. You told you have gone dram club eating meat, you trying competition Bill Bengal tiger who loves eating. Since you are good friend with dwarf rabbit Haru who also love cuddling you, louis seemingly amused you and tries stop you before call Shishigami, you freezes told him your name and background connect past. Louis start liking you. You first learn haru told you about Louis star and everything.

Even though he’s not usually a feline snuggler to be hugged bear cuddler, so when he does he’s probably looking for soft gentle silent smooth support or he’s really relaxed with you.

Also likes to face you when he snuggles with you; very funny relationship how he likes all carnivores even he always not attractive but have soft spot on (you).

Your head in his chest while his smooth arms draped around you.

Beyond the considerate of you, he pets down your back gently, and had careful to never mess your fur by going the wrong way.

When you start purring he blinking freezes, and looks at you in his beautiful, shocked surprisingly .

He doesn’t say anything at first thoughtfully, then he kindly smiles at you.

Since listening your story, Louis just keeps petting you and holding you, even wants you to keep going.

Your furry purring is really soothing for him, he may even fall asleep with cheetah(you).

“Comfortable?” Teasing smirkingly smile brushing you away, Louis buy you a fish inside his condo where his wolf and he had sleep. He doesn't buy meats ruin your carnivorous appearance.

While he’s not a real felines snuggler or cuddler, he certainly may want to more often just to hear you purr. Remind you of Sheila you ever met.

#beastars plus reader #beastars cannon #beastars x reader

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germanicseidr · 3 years

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Frisians

We are picking up from where we left off on my post about the Frisii. The Frisians were a germanic tribe/kingdom located in modern day Frisia, Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Groningen, Drenthe and Overijssel in the Netherlands, east-Frisia in Germany and north-Frisia in Denmark. They are the oldest Germanic culture that still exist until this very day with their own unique history, flag, traditions and language.

During the great migrational period, which also marks the end of the iron age and the start of the medieval age, new settlers, mostly Saxons, settled themselves in former Frisii territory. Most of the Frisii had abandoned their homeland and migrated either southwards or to the west to Britannia. Only a very few Frisii remained in their homeland, too little to continue their population.

Around the 5th century AD these migrants were now settled properly and called themselves Frisians. They quickly turned their homeland into a powerful seafaring nation now bordered by the Christianized Franks to the south and the still pagan Saxons to the east, the Frisians were still pagan as well. By 500AD they were possibly the most powerful sea power in western Europe, a power they gained from their long history of sailing and trading.

Since the collapse of the Western Roman empire, the economy in western Europe was in a very sad state. Poverty and hunger were considered to be normal while ancient Roman settlements started to decay and slowly disappear. Between 300-500AD, trade was pretty much dead and time appeared to have stopped moving for the people in western Europe. This all eventually changed thanks to the Frisians who were able to restore trade routes and opened up a path for the now so famous vikings.

During the late 6th century, the Frisians set up wide-spread trading routes all across the north sea, east sea and the Rhine area. In all of these trading areas, settlements grew like cabbage thanks to the wealth that these Frisian traders brought, settlements like: Ipswich in England, Ribe in Denmark and Medemblik in the Netherlands. Already existing settlements such as London and Dorestad grew thanks to this trade. Dorestad, a city which was located in modern day Utrecht, the Netherlands, even became the most important trade hub of western Europe, it was also the capital of the Frisian kingdom.

The Frisians were in fact so dominant in their trade that the term Frisian became a synonym for trader in many Germanic languages until around 1000AD. Curiously enough, many of the trading settlements were not fortified with walls or forts, the 6th and 7th century were relatively peaceful times. It was also the Frisians who reintroduced the concept of money in the form of sceatta coins. The word sceatta itself is Frisian for treasure. Archeologists have found these sceatta coins all around the North sea coast, England, Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands. These sceattas were based on earlier Roman coins. So you can thank the Frisians for the fact that we use money instead of the old trading system.

So what did the Frisians trade exactly? They traded both luxery goods and more mundane goods per example: Fabrics, skins, pottery, metal, cattle, fish, flesh, salt, wine, dairy products, fur, milling stones and even walrus, sea lion and reindeer products which they got from the far North in Scandinavia. They also traded in human lives because the slave trade was a lucrative business and slaves were essential for the early medieval economy.

Who ruled the Frisians? It is not known when the Frisian tribe turned into a kingdom but we do have written sources of some of the earliest Frisian kings. The oldest yet quite unreliable source comes from the epic poem Beowulf which mentions Finn Folcwalding as the first king of the Frisians. It is however doubtful if Finn actually really existed since Beowulf is not exactly a reliable historical source. According to the Poem, Finn was the son of Folcwalding and married a Danish princes, Hildeburh.

Here is a quote from the Beowulf poem: "The warriors returned then to seek their houses, bereft of friends, to see Frisia, their homes and high fort yet Hengest the death-stained winter spent with Finn, in a place with no fellowship at all; he remembered his land, though he could not drive on the sea the ring-prowed ship: the sea welled in storm, fought against the wind, the winter locked the waves in icy bonds, until came another year to the courtyards, as it still does now, those which continuously carry out their seasons, gloriously bright weathers." Beowulf

The first Frisian king of whom's existence we actually got archeological evidence, is king Audulf, who ruled Frisia between 600-630AD. The most famous Frisian ruler however is king Redbad/Radboud who ruled Frisia from 690-719AD. His story is recorded by the Franks, the enemy of the Frisian kingdom. According to these records, Redbad refused to convert to Christianity exclaiming that he would rather spent an eternity in hell with his ancestors than to go to heaven.

It was also under Redbad's rule that the Frisian kingdom reached its peak. The Frisians and Franks were continuously at war with each other as the Franks tried to expand their empire. Not only did the Franks aspire to add more land to their already massive empire, they wanted to convert the Frisians to Christianity as well which they eventually did with quite some violence. Bonifatius and Willibrord were send to Frisia with orders to built churches and convert the local people.

Bonifatius started to chop down sacred trees throughout Frisia, oak trees which were dedicated to Donar, which were used not only for religious purposes but also for judicial purposes. This angered the Frisians greatly and eventually the mob turned against Bonifatius killing him and his followers out of anger and revenge.

Redbad managed to keep Frisia largely pagan until his death in 719AD. After his death, the Frisian kingdom was quickly conquered by the Franks who divided the kingdom into three parts, East-Frisia, Middle Frisia and West-Frisia. One thing I want to mention is that there is a very popular post going around the internet saying that Redbad is the last Frisian king, this is however not true. The last Frisian king was Poppo who ruled Frisia between 719-734AD. It was during Poppo's reign that Frisia was conquered by the Franks, perhaps the reason why most people conveniently leave him out of history.

By the year 734AD, the Frisians were now largely converted to Christianty but some pagans still remained. The latest pagan burial dates back to around 1000AD and some pagan habits like placing offerings in moors and swamps continued on well into the 18th century. It took a very long time before the Frisians accepted Christianity, almost 1000 years before the Christian faith fully got its hold in even the smallest settlements.

Not only Frisia was conquered and converted by the Franks, the Saxons were also invaded by them which led to the Saxon wars which took place between 772-804AD. These wars eventually led to the destruction of the Irminsul and the forcible conversion to Christianity. Countless of pagans were murdered for refusing to convert. The Frisians provided military support for the Saxons in their uprising but it sadly failed. With the arrival of the 9th century, continental Germanic paganism has almost completely died with the exception of Denmark.

The Frisians were no longer independent and by 839AD, the reign of Frisian counts began. During the 9th century, the Frisian territory, now part of Lotharingia, was repeatedly attacked by the vikings. Thanks to the vikings, the Frisians lost their status of the most powerful seafaring nation and an age of terror began. Dorestad, former capital of the Frisian kingdom, was raided several times by the vikings until the city eventually slowly died. It was rediscovered in 1842 during archeological research conducted by L.J.F Janssen, conservator of the rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden.

Since the Christianization of Frisia went so slowly, many of its people still believed in the Germanic Gods by the time the vikings were active. After the passing of Louis the pious, king of the Franks, in 840AD, a power struggle broke out between his three sons which resulted in devastating civil wars. The Frisians, who are genetically and culturally identical to the Danes, decided to stop defending their territories from Danish raiders and so Frisia fell in the hands of Danish rulers. The Frisians and Danes actually had good relationships with each other as their culture and religion were the same. It is believed that many Frisians turned viking as well and joined the Danes in their viking raids.

Eventually the viking raids stopped but the Frisians, now known as the West-Frisians, continued their good relationships with Denmark, a friendship which continued for many centuries as Holland and Denmark later united to battle the Swedes, in fact this friendship still endures until this very day and was recently celebrated between both governments.

The counts of West-Frisia, who governed on behalf of the Holy Roman Emperor, ruled over the area which was formally part of the Frisian kingdom, modern day Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Friesland, Groningen, Drenthe, Utrecht and east-Frisia. The first known count is Dirk I who governed over Frisia between 916-928AD. This line of counts continued until count Dirk V of West-Frisia declared himself as count of Holland and so the province of Holland was born.

The climate of Europe changed again between 800-1200AD, the medieval warm period had begun. This eventually led to a gigantic flood, the Sint-Lucia flood, which created the Zuiderzee and separated West-Frisia from East-Frisia. Eventually east-Frisia became known as simply Frisia but West-Frisia, now reduced to an area connected to Holland, continued to exist under its former name. The remaining part of West-Frisia refused to join Holland which resulted in the West-Frisian wars which lasted around 160 years.

West-Frisia was eventually absorbed into Holland by count Floris V during the late 13th century after series of battles and a mass slaughter committed by the Hollanders on West-Frisian men, women and children. Even though West-Frisia is nowadays part of Holland, they still remain their own unique identity, anthem, flag and dialect. the province of Holland grew into the most powerful province of the low lands and eventually revolted against their Spanish overlords in 1568, a struggle now known as the 80 years war for Dutch independence which resulted in the free republic of the united provinces in 1648, the creation of the Netherlands as a united land.

Meanwhile east-Frisia, now known as Frisia, continued to resist against every power that tried to conquer the territory. Frisia became an independent territory around the year 1000AD and continued to be independent until they decided to join the Dutch revolt against the Spanish. Frisia joined the union of Utrecht and became part of the Dutch republic and still continues to be part of the Netherlands until this very day although some Frisians want to reclaim their independence again.

I am sorry for this long post on the history of the Frisians but they have a very long history that deserves to be told since they greatly influenced all of Europe and are the oldest still existing Germanic culture of Europe.

Here are images of: a map showing Magna Frisia, the Frisian kingdom at its peak. An image of king Redbad/Radboud, Frisian traders, artist unknown, A map of the Frisian trade network, Frisian sceatta coins with a depiction of Wodan, a map showing West-Frisia before the formation of Holland, A photo that I took myself of West-Frisian remains badly maimed by soldiers of Holland during the West-Frisian wars, Current territory of West-Frisia, map showing present day Frisia and east-Frisia

#Germanic #Germanic tribe #pagan #Frisia #History #Dutch

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castielchitaqua · 3 years

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kaddish, allen ginsberg

I Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm—and your memory in my head three years after—And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas aloud—wept, realizing how we suffer— And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of Answers—and my own imagination of a withered leaf—at dawn— Dreaming back thru life, Your time—and mine accelerating toward Apocalypse, the final moment—the flower burning in the Day—and what comes after, looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed— like a poem in the dark—escaped back to Oblivion— No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worshipping each other, worshipping the God included in it all—longing or inevitability?—while it lasts, a Vision—anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shouldering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant—and the sky above—an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to—as I walk toward the Lower East Side—where you walked 50 years ago, little girl—from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America—frightened on the dock— then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?—toward Newark— toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards— Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream—what is this life? Toward the Key in the window—and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk—in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater—and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now—Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstoops doors and dark boys on the street, fire escapes old as you -Tho you’re not old now, that’s left here with me— Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe—and I guess that dies with us—enough to cancel all that comes—What came is gone forever every time— That’s good! That leaves it open for no regret—no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end— Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul—and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change’s fierce hunger—hair and teeth—and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you’re out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you’re done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it—Done with yourself at last—Pure—Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all—before the world— There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you’ve gone, it’s good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands— No more of sister Elanor,.—she gone before you—we kept it secret—you killed her—or she killed herself to bear with you—an arthritic heart—But Death’s killed you both—No matter— Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks—forgetting, aggrieve watching Marie Dressler address humanity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin’s at the Met, hailing his voice of a weeping Czar—by standing

room with Elanor & Max—watching also the Capitalists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL’s hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead, now, and that long hair in the grave—lucky to have husbands later— You made it—I came too—Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer—or kill—later perhaps—soon he will think—) And it’s the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now—tho not you I didn’t foresee what you felt—what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first—to you—and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark—that—in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon—Deathshead with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have—what you had—that so pitiful—yet Triumph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower—fed to the ground—but mad, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore—freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife—lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman’s icy—even in the Spring—strange ghost thought—some Death—Sharp icicle in his hand—crowned with old roses—a dog for his eyes—cock of a sweatshop—heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out—clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts—begotten sons—your Communism—‘Paranoia’ into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. l His life passes—as he sees—and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Immortality, Naomi? I’ll see him soon. Now I’ve got to cut through—to talk to you—as I didn’t when you had a mouth. Forever. And we’re bound for that, Forever—like Emily Dickinson’s horses—headed to the End. They know the way—These Steeds—run faster than we think—it’s our own life they cross—and take with them. Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, married dreamed, mortal changed—Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, balmed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I’m hymnless, I’m Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity— Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing—to praise Thee—But Death This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Wonderer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping—page beyond Psalm—Last change of mine and Naomi—to God’s perfect Darkness—Death, stay thy phantoms! II Over and over—refrain—of the Hospitals—still haven’t written your history—leave it abstract—a few images run thru the mind—like the saxophone chorus of houses and years—remembrance of electrical shocks. By long nites as a child in Paterson apartment, watching over your nervousness—you were fat—your next move— By that afternoon I stayed home from school to take care of you—once and for all—when I vowed forever that once man disagreed with my opinion of the cosmos, I was lost— By my

later burden—vow to illuminate mankind—this is release of particulars—(mad as you)—(sanity a trick of agreement)— But you stared out the window on the Broadway Church corner, and spied a mystical assassin from Newark, So phoned the Doctor—‘OK go way for a rest’—so I put on my coat and walked you downstreet—On the way a grammarschool boy screamed, unaccountably—‘Where you goin Lady to Death’? I shuddered— and you covered your nose with motheaten fur collar, gas mask against poison sneaked into downtown atmosphere, sprayed by Grandma— And was the driver of the cheesebox Public Service bus a member of the gang? You shuddered at his face, I could hardly get you on—to New York, very Times Square, to grab another Greyhound— where we hung around 2 hours fighting invisible bugs and jewish sickness—breeze poisoned by Roosevelt— out to get you—and me tagging along, hoping it would end in a quiet room in a Victorian house by a lake. Ride 3 hours thru tunnels past all American industry, Bayonne preparing for World War II, tanks, gas fields, soda factories, diners, loco-motive roundhouse fortress—into piney woods New Jersey Indians—calm towns—long roads thru sandy tree fields— Bridges by deerless creeks, old wampum loading the streambeddown there a tomahawk or Pocahontas bone—and a million old ladies voting for Roosevelt in brown small houses, roads off the Madness highway— perhaps a hawk in a tree, or a hermit looking for an owl-filled branch— All the time arguing—afraid of strangers in the forward double seat, snoring regardless—what busride they snore on now? ‘Allen, you don’t understand—it’s—ever since those 3 big sticks up my back—they did something to me in Hospital, they poisoned me, they want to see me dead—3 big sticks, 3 big sticks— ‘The Bitch! Old Grandma! Last week I saw her, dressed in pants like an old man, with a sack on her back, climbing up the brick side of the apartment ‘On the fire escape, with poison germs, to throw on me—at night—maybe Louis is helping her—he’s under her power— ‘I’m your mother, take me to Lakewood’ (near where Graf Zeppelin had crashed before, all Hitler in Explosion) ‘where I can hide.’ We got there—Dr. Whatzis rest home—she hid behind a closet—demanded a blood transfusion. We were kicked out—tramping with Valise to unknown shady lawn houses—dusk, pine trees after dark—long dead street filled with crickets and poison ivy— I shut her up by now—big house REST HOME ROOMS—gave the landlady her money for the week—carried up the iron valise—sat on bed waiting to escape— Neat room in attic with friendly bedcover—lace curtains—spinning wheel rug—Stained wallpaper old as Naomi. We were home. I left on the next bus to New York—laid my head back in the last seat, depressed—the worst yet to come?—abandoning her, rode in torpor—I was only 12. Would she hide in her room and come out cheerful for breakfast? Or lock her door and stare thru the window for sidestreet spies? Listen at keyholes for Hitlerian invisible gas? Dream in a chair—or mock me, by—in front of a mirror, alone? 12 riding the bus at nite thru New Jersey, have left Naomi to Parcae in Lakewood’s haunted house—left to my own fate bus—sunk in a seat—all violins broken—my heart sore in my ribs—mind was empty—Would she were safe in her coffin— Or back at Normal School in Newark, studying up on America in a black skirt—winter on the street without lunch—a penny a pickle—home at night to take care of Elanor in the bedroom— First nervous breakdown was 1919—she stayed home from school and lay in a dark room for three weeks—something bad—never said what—every noise hurt—dreams of the creaks of Wall Street— Before the gray Depression—went upstate New York—recovered—Lou took photo of her sitting crossleg on the grass—her long hair wound with flowers—smiling—playing lullabies on mandolin—poison ivy smoke in left-wing summer camps and me in infancy saw trees— or back teaching school, laughing with idiots, the backward classes—her Russian specialty—morons with dreamy lips, great eyes, thin feet & sicky fingers, swaybacked, rachitic— great heads pendulous

over Alice in Wonderland, a blackboard full of C A T. Naomi reading patiently, story out of a Communist fairy book—Tale of the Sudden Sweetness of the Dictator—Forgiveness of Warlocks—Armies Kissing— Deathsheads Around the Green Table—The King & the Workers—Paterson Press printed them up in the ’30s till she went mad, or they folded, both. O Paterson! I got home late that nite. Louis was worried. How could I be so—didn’t I think? I shouldn’t have left her. Mad in Lakewood. Call the Doctor. Phone the home in the pines. Too late. Went to bed exhausted, wanting to leave the world (probably that year newly in love with R my high school mind hero, jewish boy who came a doctor later—then silent neat kid— I later laying down life for him, moved to Manhattan—followed him to college—Prayed on ferry to help mankind if admitted—vowed, the day I journeyed to Entrance Exam— by being honest revolutionary labor lawyer—would train for that—inspired by Sacco Vanzetti, Norman Thomas, Debs, Altgeld, Sand-burg, Poe—Little Blue Books. I wanted to be President, or Senator. ignorant woe—later dreams of kneeling by R’s shocked knees declaring my love of 1941—What sweetness he’d have shown me, tho, that I’d wished him & despaired—first love—a crush— Later a mortal avalanche, whole mountains of homosexuality, Matterhorns of cock, Grand Canyons of asshole—weight on my melancholy head— meanwhile I walked on Broadway imagining Infinity like a rubber ball without space beyond—what’s outside?—coming home to Graham Avenue still melancholy passing the lone green hedges across the street, dreaming after the movies—) The telephone rang at 2 A.M.—Emergency—she’d gone mad—Naomi hiding under the bed screaming bugs of Mussolini—Help! Louis! Buba! Fascists! Death!—the landlady frightened—old fag attendant screaming back at her— Terror, that woke the neighbors—old ladies on the second floor recovering from menopause—all those rags between thighs, clean sheets, sorry over lost babies—husbands ashen—children sneering at Yale, or putting oil in hair at CCNY—or trembling in Montclair State Teachers College like Eugene— Her big leg crouched to her breast, hand outstretched Keep Away, wool dress on her thighs, fur coat dragged under the bed—she barricaded herself under bedspring with suitcases. Louis in pajamas listening to phone, frightened—do now?—Who could know?—my fault, delivering her to solitude?—sitting in the dark room on the sofa, trembling, to figure out— He took the morning train to Lakewood, Naomi still under bed—thought he brought poison Cops—Naomi screaming—Louis what happened to your heart then? Have you been killed by Naomi’s ecstasy? Dragged her out, around the corner, a cab, forced her in with valise, but the driver left them off at drugstore. Bus stop, two hours’ wait. I lay in bed nervous in the 4-room apartment, the big bed in living room, next to Louis’ desk—shaking—he came home that nite, late, told me what happened. Naomi at the prescription counter defending herself from the enemy—racks of children’s books, douche bags, aspirins, pots, blood—‘Don’t come near me—murderers! Keep away! Promise not to kill me!’ Louis in horror at the soda fountain—with Lakewood girlscouts—Coke addicts—nurses—busmen hung on schedule—Police from country precinct, dumbed—and a priest dreaming of pigs on an ancient cliff? Smelling the air—Louis pointing to emptiness?—Customers vomiting their Cokes—or staring—Louis humiliated—Naomi triumphant—The Announcement of the Plot. Bus arrives, the drivers won’t have them on trip to New York. Phonecalls to Dr. Whatzis, ‘She needs a rest,’ The mental hospital—State Greystone Doctors—‘Bring her here, Mr. Ginsberg.’ Naomi, Naomi—sweating, bulge-eyed, fat, the dress unbuttoned at one side—hair over brow, her stocking hanging evilly on her legs—screaming for a blood transfusion—one righteous hand upraised—a shoe in it—barefoot in the Pharmacy— The enemies approach—what poisons? Tape recorders? FBI? Zhdanov hiding behind the counter? Trotsky mixing rat bacteria in the back of the store? Uncle Sam in Newark, plotting deathly

perfumes in the Negro district? Uncle Ephraim, drunk with murder in the politician’s bar, scheming of Hague? Aunt Rose passing water thru the needles of the Spanish Civil War? till the hired $35 ambulance came from Red Bank——Grabbed her arms—strapped her on the stretcher—moaning, poisoned by imaginaries, vomiting chemicals thru Jersey, begging mercy from Essex County to Morristown— And back to Greystone where she lay three years—that was the last breakthrough, delivered her to Madhouse again— On what wards—I walked there later, oft—old catatonic ladies, gray as cloud or ash or walls—sit crooning over floorspace—Chairs—and the wrinkled hags acreep, accusing—begging my 13-year-old mercy— ‘Take me home’—I went alone sometimes looking for the lost Naomi, taking Shock—and I’d say, ‘No, you’re crazy Mama,—Trust the Drs.’— And Eugene, my brother, her elder son, away studying Law in a furnished room in Newark— came Paterson-ward next day—and he sat on the broken-down couch in the living room—‘We had to send her back to Greystone’— —his face perplexed, so young, then eyes with tears—then crept weeping all over his face—‘What for?’ wail vibrating in his cheekbones, eyes closed up, high voice—Eugene’s face of pain. Him faraway, escaped to an Elevator in the Newark Library, his bottle daily milk on windowsill of $5 week furn room downtown at trolley tracks— He worked 8 hrs. a day for $20/wk—thru Law School years—stayed by himself innocent near negro whorehouses. Unlaid, poor virgin—writing poems about Ideals and politics letters to the editor Pat Eve News—(we both wrote, denouncing Senator Borah and Isolationists—and felt mysterious toward Paterson City Hall— I sneaked inside it once—local Moloch tower with phallus spire & cap o’ ornament, strange gothic Poetry that stood on Market Street—replica Lyons’ Hotel de Ville— wings, balcony & scrollwork portals, gateway to the giant city clock, secret map room full of Hawthorne—dark Debs in the Board of Tax—Rembrandt smoking in the gloom— Silent polished desks in the great committee room—Aldermen? Bd of Finance? Mosca the hairdresser aplot—Crapp the gangster issuing orders from the john—The madmen struggling over Zone, Fire, Cops & Backroom Metaphysics—we’re all dead—outside by the bus stop Eugene stared thru childhood— where the Evangelist preached madly for 3 decades, hard-haired, cracked & true to his mean Bible—chalked Prepare to Meet Thy God on civic pave— or God is Love on the railroad overpass concrete—he raved like I would rave, the lone Evangelist—Death on City Hall—) But Gene, young,—been Montclair Teachers College 4 years—taught half year & quit to go ahead in life—afraid of Discipline Problems—dark sex Italian students, raw girls getting laid, no English, sonnets disregarded—and he did not know much—just that he lost— so broke his life in two and paid for Law—read huge blue books and rode the ancient elevator 13 miles away in Newark & studied up hard for the future just found the Scream of Naomi on his failure doorstep, for the final time, Naomi gone, us lonely—home—him sitting there— Then have some chicken soup, Eugene. The Man of Evangel wails in front of City Hall. And this year Lou has poetic loves of suburb middle age—in secret—music from his 1937 book—Sincere—he longs for beauty— No love since Naomi screamed—since 1923?—now lost in Greystone ward—new shock for her—Electricity, following the 40 Insulin. And Metrazol had made her fat. So that a few years later she came home again—we’d much advanced and planned—I waited for that day—my Mother again to cook & —play the piano—sing at mandolin—Lung Stew, & Stenka Razin, & the communist line on the war with Finland—and Louis in debt—,uspected to he poisoned money—mysterious capitalisms —& walked down the long front hall & looked at the furniture. She never remembered it all. Some amnesia. Examined the doilies—and the dining room set was sold— the Mahogany table—20 years love—gone to the junk man—we still had the piano—and the book of Poe—and the Mandolin, tho needed some string, dusty— She went to the backroom to lie down in

bed and ruminate, or nap, hide—I went in with her, not leave her by herself—lay in bed next to her—shades pulled, dusky, late afternoon—Louis in front room at desk, waiting—perhaps boiling chicken for supper— ‘Don’t be afraid of me because I’m just coming back home from the mental hospital—I’m your mother—’ Poor love, lost—a fear—I lay there—Said, ‘I love you Naomi,’—stiff, next to her arm. I would have cried, was this the comfortless lone union?—Nervous, and she got up soon. Was she ever satisfied? And—by herself sat on the new couch by the front windows, uneasy—cheek leaning on her hand—narrowing eye—at what fate that day— Picking her tooth with her nail, lips formed an O, suspicion—thought’s old worn vagina—absent sideglance of eye—some evil debt written in the wall, unpaid—& the aged breasts of Newark come near— May have heard radio gossip thru the wires in her head, controlled by 3 big sticks left in her back by gangsters in amnesia, thru the hospital—caused pain between her shoulders— Into her head—Roosevelt should know her case, she told me—Afraid to kill her, now, that the government knew their names—traced back to Hitler—wanted to leave Louis’ house forever. One night, sudden attack—her noise in the bathroom—like croaking up her soul—convulsions and red vomit coming out of her mouth—diarrhea water exploding from her behind—on all fours in front of the toilet—urine running between her legs—left retching on the tile floor smeared with her black feces—unfainted— At forty, varicosed, nude, fat, doomed, hiding outside the apartment door near the elevator calling Police, yelling for her girlfriend Rose to help— Once locked herself in with razor or iodine—could hear her cough in tears at sink—Lou broke through glass green-painted door, we pulled her out to the bedroom. Then quiet for months that winter—walks, alone, nearby on Broadway, read Daily Worker—Broke her arm, fell on icy street— Began to scheme escape from cosmic financial murder-plots—later she ran away to the Bronx to her sister Elanor. And there’s another saga of late Naomi in New York. Or thru Elanor or the Workmen’s Circle, where she worked, ad-dressing envelopes, she made out—went shopping for Campbell’s tomato soup—saved money Louis mailed her— Later she found a boyfriend, and he was a doctor—Dr. Isaac worked for National Maritime Union—now Italian bald and pudgy old doll—who was himself an orphan—but they kicked him out—Old cruelties— Sloppier, sat around on bed or chair, in corset dreaming to herself—‘I’m hot—I’m getting fat—I used to have such a beautiful figure before I went to the hospital—You should have seen me in Woodbine—’ This in a furnished room around the NMU hall, 1943. Looking at naked baby pictures in the magazine—baby powder advertisements, strained lamb carrots—‘I will think nothing but beautiful thoughts.’ Revolving her head round and round on her neck at window light in summertime, in hypnotize, in doven-dream recall— ‘I touch his cheek, I touch his cheek, he touches my lips with his hand, I think beautiful thoughts, the baby has a beautiful hand.’— Or a No-shake of her body, disgust—some thought of Buchenwald—some insulin passes thru her head—a grimace nerve shudder at Involuntary (as shudder when I piss)—bad chemical in her cortex—‘No don’t think of that. He’s a rat.’ Naomi: ‘And when we die we become an onion, a cabbage, a carrot, or a squash, a vegetable.’ I come downtown from Columbia and agree. She reads the Bible, thinks beautiful thoughts all day. ‘Yesterday I saw God. What did he look like? Well, in the afternoon I climbed up a ladder—he has a cheap cabin in the country, like Monroe, N.Y. the chicken farms in the wood. He was a lonely old man with a white beard. ‘I cooked supper for him. I made him a nice supper—lentil soup, vegetables, bread & butter—miltz—he sat down at the table and ate, he was sad. ‘I told him, Look at all those fightings and killings down there, What’s the matter? Why don’t you put a stop to it? ‘I try, he said—That’s all he could do, he looked tired. He’s a bachelor so long, and he likes lentil

soup.’ Serving me meanwhile, a plate of cold fish—chopped raw cabbage dript with tapwater—smelly tomatoes—week-old health food—grated beets & carrots with leaky juice, warm—more and more disconsolate food—I can’t eat it for nausea sometimes—the Charity of her hands stinking with Manhattan, madness, desire to please me, cold undercooked fish—pale red near the bones. Her smells—and oft naked in the room, so that I stare ahead, or turn a book ignoring her. One time I thought she was trying to make me come lay her—flirting to herself at sink—lay back on huge bed that filled most of the room, dress up round her hips, big slash of hair, scars of operations, pancreas, belly wounds, abortions, appendix, stitching of incisions pulling down in the fat like hideous thick zippers—ragged long lips between her legs—What, even, smell of asshole? I was cold—later revolted a little, not much—seemed perhaps a good idea to try—know the Monster of the Beginning Womb—Perhaps—that way. Would she care? She needs a lover. Yisborach, v’yistabach, v’yispoar, v’yisroman, v’yisnaseh, v’yishador, v’yishalleh, v’yishallol, sh’meh d’kudsho, b’rich hu. And Louis reestablishing himself in Paterson grimy apartment in negro district—living in dark rooms—but found himself a girl he later married, falling in love again—tho sere & shy—hurt with 20 years Naomi’s mad idealism. Once I came home, after longtime in N.Y., he’s lonely—sitting in the bedroom, he at desk chair turned round to face me—weeps, tears in red eyes under his glasses— That we’d left him—Gene gone strangely into army—she out on her own in N.Y., almost childish in her furnished room. So Louis walked downtown to postoffice to get mail, taught in highschool—stayed at poetry desk, forlorn—ate grief at Bickford’s all these years—are gone. Eugene got out of the Army, came home changed and lone—cut off his nose in jewish operation—for years stopped girls on Broadway for cups of coffee to get laid—Went to NYU, serious there, to finish Law.— And Gene lived with her, ate naked fishcakes, cheap, while she got crazier—He got thin, or felt helpless, Naomi striking 1920 poses at the moon, half-naked in the next bed. bit his nails and studied—was the weird nurse-son—Next year he moved to a room near Columbia—though she wanted to live with her children— ‘Listen to your mother’s plea, I beg you’—Louis still sending her checks—I was in bughouse that year 8 months—my own visions unmentioned in this here Lament— But then went half mad—Hitler in her room, she saw his mustache in the sink—afraid of Dr. Isaac now, suspecting that he was in on the Newark plot—went up to Bronx to live near Elanor’s Rheumatic Heart— And Uncle Max never got up before noon, tho Naomi at 6 A.M. was listening to the radio for spies—or searching the windowsill, for in the empty lot downstairs, an old man creeps with his bag stuffing packages of garbage in his hanging black overcoat. Max’s sister Edie works—17 years bookkeeper at Gimbels—lived downstairs in apartment house, divorced—so Edie took in Naomi on Rochambeau Ave— Woodlawn Cemetery across the street, vast dale of graves where Poe once—Last stop on Bronx subway—lots of communists in that area. Who enrolled for painting classes at night in Bronx Adult High School—walked alone under Van Cortlandt Elevated line to class—paints Naomiisms— Humans sitting on the grass in some Camp No-Worry summers yore—saints with droopy faces and long-ill-fitting pants, from hospital— Brides in front of Lower East Side with short grooms—lost El trains running over the Babylonian apartment rooftops in the Bronx— Sad paintings—but she expressed herself. Her mandolin gone, all strings broke in her head, she tried. Toward Beauty? or some old life Message? But started kicking Elanor, and Elanor had heart trouble—came upstairs and asked her about Spydom for hours,—Elanor frazzled. Max away at office, accounting for cigar stores till at night. ‘I am a great woman—am truly a beautiful soul—and because of that they (Hitler, Grandma, Hearst, the Capitalists, Franco, Daily News, the ’20s, Mussolini, the living

dead) want to shut me up—Buba’s the head of a spider network—’ Kicking the girls, Edie & Elanor—Woke Edie at midnite to tell her she was a spy and Elanor a rat. Edie worked all day and couldn’t take it—She was organizing the union.—And Elanor began dying, upstairs in bed. The relatives call me up, she’s getting worse—I was the only one left—Went on the subway with Eugene to see her, ate stale fish— ‘My sister whispers in the radio—Louis must be in the apartment—his mother tells him what to say—LIARS!—I cooked for my two children—I played the mandolin—’ Last night the nightingale woke me / Last night when all was still / it sang in the golden moonlight / from on the wintry hill. She did. I pushed her against the door and shouted ‘DON’T KICK ELANOR!’—she stared at me—Contempt—die—disbelief her sons are so naive, so dumb—‘Elanor is the worst spy! She’s taking orders!’ ‘—No wires in the room!’—I’m yelling at her—last ditch, Eugene listening on the bed—what can he do to escape that fatal Mama—‘You’ve been away from Louis years already—Grandma’s too old to walk—’ We’re all alive at once then—even me & Gene & Naomi in one mythological Cousinesque room—screaming at each other in the Forever—I in Columbia jacket, she half undressed. I banging against her head which saw Radios, Sticks, Hitlers—the gamut of Hallucinations—for real—her own universe—no road that goes elsewhere—to my own—No America, not even a world— That you go as all men, as Van Gogh, as mad Hannah, all the same—to the last doom—Thunder, Spirits, lightning! I’ve seen your grave! O strange Naomi! My own—cracked grave! Shema Y’Israel—I am Svul Avrum—you—in death? Your last night in the darkness of the Bronx—I phonecalled—thru hospital to secret police that came, when you and I were alone, shrieking at Elanor in my ear—who breathed hard in her own bed, got thin— Nor will forget, the doorknock, at your fright of spies,—Law advancing, on my honor—Eternity entering the room—you running to the bathroom undressed, hiding in protest from the last heroic fate— staring at my eyes, betrayed—the final cops of madness rescuing me—from your foot against the broken heart of Elanor, your voice at Edie weary of Gimbels coming home to broken radio—and Louis needing a poor divorce, he wants to get married soon—Eugene dreaming, hiding at 125 St., suing negroes for money on crud furniture, defending black girls— Protests from the bathroom—Said you were sane—dressing in a cotton robe, your shoes, then new, your purse and newspaper clippingsno—your honesty— as you vainly made your lips more real with lipstick, looking in the mirror to see if the Insanity was Me or a earful of police. or Grandma spying at 78—Your vision—Her climbing over the walls of the cemetery with political kidnapper’s bag—or what you saw on the walls of the Bronx, in pink nightgown at midnight, staring out the window on the empty lot— Ah Rochambeau Ave.—Playground of Phantoms—last apartment in the Bronx for spies—last home for Elanor or Naomi, here these communist sisters lost their revolution— ‘All right—put on your coat Mrs.—let’s go—We have the wagon downstairs—you want to come with her to the station?’ The ride then—held Naomi’s hand, and held her head to my breast, I’m taller—kissed her and said I did it for the best—Elanor sick—and Max with heart condition—Needs— To me—‘Why did you do this?’—‘Yes Mrs., your son will have to leave you in an hour’—The Ambulance came in a few hours—drove off at 4 A.M. to some Bellevue in the night downtown—gone to the hospital forever. I saw her led away—she waved, tears in her eyes. Two years, after a trip to Mexico—bleak in the flat plain near Brentwood, scrub brush and grass around the unused RR train track to the crazyhouse— new brick 20 story central building—lost on the vast lawns of madtown on Long Island—huge cities of the moon. Asylum spreads out giant wings above the path to a minute black hole—the door—entrance thru crotch— I went in—smelt funny—the halls again—up elevator—to a glass door on a Women’s Ward—to Naomi—Two nurses buxom white—They led her out, Naomi

stared—and I gaspt—She’d had a stroke— Too thin, shrunk on her bones—age come to Naomi—now broken into white hair—loose dress on her skeleton—face sunk, old! withered—cheek of crone— One hand stiff—heaviness of forties & menopause reduced by one heart stroke, lame now—wrinkles—a scar on her head, the lobotomy—ruin, the hand dipping downwards to death— O Russian faced, woman on the grass, your long black hair is crowned with flowers, the mandolin is on your knees— Communist beauty, sit here married in the summer among daisies, promised happiness at hand— holy mother, now you smile on your love, your world is born anew, children run naked in the field spotted with dandelions, they eat in the plum tree grove at the end of the meadow and find a cabin where a white-haired negro teaches the mystery of his rainbarrel— blessed daughter come to America, I long to hear your voice again, remembering your mother’s music, in the Song of the Natural Front— O glorious muse that bore me from the womb, gave suck first mystic life & taught me talk and music, from whose pained head I first took Vision— Tortured and beaten in the skull—What mad hallucinations of the damned that drive me out of my own skull to seek Eternity till I find Peace for Thee, O Poetry—and for all humankind call on the Origin Death which is the mother of the universe!—Now wear your nakedness forever, white flowers in your hair, your marriage sealed behind the sky—no revolution might destroy that maidenhood— O beautiful Garbo of my Karma—all photographs from 1920 in Camp Nicht-Gedeiget here unchanged—with all the teachers from Vewark—Nor Elanor be gone, nor Max await his specter—nor Louis retire from this High School— Back! You! Naomi! Skull on you! Gaunt immortality and revolution come—small broken woman—the ashen indoor eyes of hospitals, ward grayness on skin— ‘Are you a spy?’ I sat at the sour table, eyes filling with tears—‘Who are you? Did Louis send you?—The wires—’ in her hair, as she beat on her head—‘I’m not a bad girl—don’t murder me!—I hear the ceiling—I raised two children—’ Two years since I’d been there—I started to cry—She stared—nurse broke up the meeting a moment—I went into the bathroom to hide, against the toilet white walls ‘The Horror’ I weeping—to see her again—‘The Horror’—as if she were dead thru funeral rot in—‘The Horror!’ I came back she yelled more—they led her away—‘You’re not Allen—’ I watched her face—but she passed by me, not looking— Opened the door to the ward,—she went thru without a glance back, quiet suddenly—I stared out—she looked old—the verge of the grave—‘All the Horror!’ Another year, I left N.Y.—on West Coast in Berkeley cottage dreamed of her soul—that, thru life, in what form it stood in that body, ashen or manic, gone beyond joy— near its death—with eyes—was my own love in its form, the Naomi, my mother on earth still—sent her long letter—& wrote hymns to the mad—Work of the merciful Lord of Poetry. that causes the broken grass to be green, or the rock to break in grass—or the Sun to be constant to earth—Sun of all sunflowers and days on bright iron bridges—what shines on old hospitals—as on my yard— Returning from San Francisco one night, Orlovsky in my room—Whalen in his peaceful chair—a telegram from Gene, Naomi dead— Outside I bent my head to the ground under the bushes near the garage—knew she was better— at last—not left to look on Earth alone—2 years of solitude—no one, at age nearing 60—old woman of skulls—once long-tressed Naomi of Bible— or Ruth who wept in America—Rebecca aged in Newark—David remembering his Harp, now lawyer at Yale or Srul Avrum—Israel Abraham—myself—to sing in the wilderness toward God—O Elohim!—so to the end—2 days after her death I got her letter— Strange Prophecies anew! She wrote—‘The key is in the window, the key is in the sunlight at the window—I have the key—Get married Allen don’t take drugs—the key is in the bars, in the sunlight in the window. Love, your mother’ which is Naomi— Hymmnn In the world which He has created according to his will Blessed Praised Magnified Lauded

Exalted the Name of the Holy One Blessed is He! In the house in Newark Blessed is He! In the madhouse Blessed is He! In the house of Death Blessed is He! Blessed be He in homosexuality! Blessed be He in Paranoia! Blessed be He in the city! Blessed be He in the Book! Blessed be He who dwells in the shadow! Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be you Naomi in tears! Blessed be you Naomi in fears! Blessed Blessed Blessed in sickness! Blessed be you Naomi in Hospitals! Blessed be you Naomi in solitude! Blest be your triumph! Blest be your bars! Blest be your last years’ loneliness! Blest be your failure! Best be your stroke! Blest be the close of your eye! Blest be the gaunt of your cheek! Blest be your withered thighs! Blessed be Thee Naomi in Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be Death! Blessed be He Who leads all sorrow to Heaven! Blessed be He in the end! Blessed be He who builds Heaven in Darkness! Blessed Blessed Blessed be He! Blessed be He! Blessed be Death on us All! III Only to have not forgotten the beginning in which she drank cheap sodas in the morgues of Newark, only to have seen her weeping on gray tables in long wards of her universe only to have known the weird ideas of Hitler at the door, the wires in her head, the three big sticks rammed down her back, the voices in the ceiling shrieking out her ugly early lays for 30 years, only to have seen the time-jumps, memory lapse, the crash of wars, the roar and silence of a vast electric shock, only to have seen her painting crude pictures of Elevateds running over the rooftops of the Bronx her brothers dead in Riverside or Russia, her lone in Long Island writing a last letter—and her image in the sunlight at the window ‘The key is in the sunlight at the window in the bars the key is in the sunlight,’ only to have come to that dark night on iron bed by stroke when the sun gone down on Long Island and the vast Atlantic roars outside the great call of Being to its own to come back out of the Nightmare—divided creation—with her head lain on a pillow of the hospital to die —in one last glimpse—all Earth one everlasting Light in the familiar black-out—no tears for this vision— But that the key should be left behind—at the window—the key in the sunlight—to the living—that can take that slice of light in hand—and turn the door—and look back see Creation glistening backwards to the same grave, size of universe, size of the tick of the hospital's clock on the archway over the white door— IV O mother what have I left out O mother what have I forgotten O mother farewell with a long black shoe farewell with Communist Party and a broken stocking farewell with six dark hairs on the wen of your breast farewell with your old dress and a long black beard around the vagina farewell with your sagging belly with your fear of Hitler with your mouth of bad short stories with your fingers of rotten mandolins with your arms of fat Paterson porches with your belly of strikes and smokestacks with your chin of Trotsky and the Spanish War with your voice singing for the decaying overbroken workers with your nose of bad lay with your nose of the smell of the pickles of Newark with your eyes with your eyes of Russia with your eyes of no money with your eyes of false China with your eyes of Aunt Elanor with your eyes of starving India with your eyes pissing in the park with your eyes of America taking a fall with your eyes of your failure at the piano with your eyes of your relatives in California with your eyes of Ma Rainey dying in an aumbulance with your eyes of Czechoslovakia attacked by robots with your eyes going to painting class at night in the Bronx with your eyes of the killer Grandma you see on the horizon from the Fire-Escape with your eyes running naked out of the apartment screaming into the hall with your eyes being led away by policemen to an aumbulance with your eyes strapped down on the operating table with your eyes with the pancreas removed with your eyes of appendix operation with your eyes of abortion with your eyes of ovaries removed with your eyes of shock with your

eyes of lobotomy with your eyes of divorce with your eyes of stroke with your eyes alone with your eyes with your eyes with your Death full of Flowers V Caw caw caw crows shriek in the white sun over grave stones in Long Island Lord Lord Lord Naomi underneath this grass my halflife and my own as hers caw caw my eye be buried in the same Ground where I stand in Angel Lord Lord great Eye that stares on All and moves in a black cloud caw caw strange cry of Beings flung up into sky over the waving trees Lord Lord O Grinder of giant Beyonds my voice in a boundless field in Sheol Caw caw the call of Time rent out of foot and wing an instant in the universe Lord Lord an echo in the sky the wind through ragged leaves the roar of memory caw caw all years my birth a dream caw caw New York the bus the broken shoe the vast highschool caw caw all Visions of the Lord Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Lord Lord caw caw caw Lord Paris, December 1957—New York, 1959

#im a collector im a maniac #poetry #not mine

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guineapigsinwinter · 3 years

Text

Fur Flies

Kibi had been about to get changed for bed when he saw Kai’s message, and found himself tiring as they got to the auditorium. They were coming up to the back of it when they heard a roar, and a large pink and uniform coloured blob flew round the corner, hitting the ground and to a halt in front of Kibi, Tem and Louis.

It was a battered, bloody Collot, numerous scratches across his body, glittery pink paint matted into his fur and clothes. His usual fringe was plastered above and to the side of his face with paint and sweat, meaning as the three herbivores looked at him they saw his face, and his eyes clearly. Kibi wasn’t sure he had ever seen anything as beautiful as those sparkling ruby eyes, or the relief in them as Collot recognised the three.

“Thank Rex you guys are here, be careful, Sam’s gang is hopped up on blood, we need to Get Voss, Miggs and Jack out now.” The sheepdog said as he got up, wincing. Kibi had never been more glad then now that he had a tendency to stay calm when others were in bad situations, as otherwise he was pretty sure he would be panicking at Collot’s sorry state.

“Collot what the hell happened to yo-“ Tem’s question was cut off by loud yowl of pain that was recognisable as Durham, followed by the coyote shouting.

“The fucker ate my ear! He ate my ear!”

Panicking, the four started running to the fray even as they heard Bill yell then get cut off by a punch. “Jack, Miggs, grab Voss and get out of he-“

As they rounded the corner they saw a battered, bloody Jack running towards them, a bite wound on his right shoulder whilst his left hand was carrying an unconscious Voss. Miguno and Kai were both staggering on their feet as they tried to hold off a couger who looked to be in as a bad state as they were in. Bill was rolling on the floor, grappling with a lion who had to be a third bigger then himself. Tao was slugging it out with another lion, both looking worse for wear, a knocked out Tasmanian tiger on the floor next to them. A crazed looking lynx with a blood stained mouth was circling Durham, the coyote covered in scratches, bite marks and missing this left ear, blood covering that side of his face. Legoshi was wrestling with a larger Bengal tiger, presumably Bill’s cousin Sam, the wolf in a similar state to Collot.

A leopard with a black eye was closing in on Jack, focused on the Labrador totally.

Kibi found himself running forward, passing Jack and driving his fist into the persuing feline’s stomach before he could think about anything, surprising himself.

It was then Kibi hear possibly the most horrific sound in his life, one that even years later would occasionally revisit him in nightmares.

Legoshi screamed.

It was a scream of pain, one which ended all other fights, everyone turning towards it. Sam had Legoshi pinned to the ground on his front, and was raking his claws across the wolf’s back.

“For dog you put up a good fight, but have these stripes so you remember what a real predator is!” The tiger roared, his voice like a twisted mirror of Bill’s bravado.

Tao turned and ran to help, but was pounced on by the lion he had been fighting. The remaining 701 guys were desperately trying to hold off the now clearly blood crazed felines. Kibi found himself running with Collot, Louis and Jack, who had passed Voss to Tem telling the alpaca to “Get him away, just anywhere safe” towards Legoshi as the tiger atop him continued to laugh and claw at his back.

Before they reached the downed wolf, a furious roar filled the air, making Sam turn to the other side of the auditorium, his eyes going comically wide before an angry and blue and brown meteorite struck him off Legoshi.

Rizz had seen the message as well. The bear stood up, mouth buried in the tiger’s shoulder, dragging the feline up, seeming ignoring his attempts to claw himself free. Rizz then spun himself around, releasing his grip and letting the tiger fly. Sam crashed through the window of the classroom building behind the auditorium, several moments passed and there was no sign of the tiger returning.

Kibi would happily admit it was only by the skin of his teeth that he didn’t wet himself when the bear turned around, standing protectively over Legoshi.

Rizz was pissed. Rage filled his eyes and body language, blood splattered across his muzzle and navy blue pajamas.

#beastars au #beastars #fanfic #First time writing a big fight scene #kibi beastars #louis #tem #tao #legoshi #jack #Collot #durham #miguno #voss #rizz #Cat Among the Canines

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joshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh · 3 years

Text

Season in Review - Winter 2021

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh it’s one of these again, let’s goooooooooooooooo

Yuru Camp Season 2

Yeah I cried at like half of these episodes because of how much I loved them lol.

Yuru Camp was already like my favourite anime from 2018 and this is just that but more.

Visuals have also been improved a lot – show’s super pretty all the time and the comedy faces are a lot funnier. Biggest glowup is Chiaki who’s hair is no longer disgusting.

Show feels a little less forced when it gets comedic so I actually felt a lot more endeared to Aki and Aoi and the like – there’s more proper iyashikei stuff done with them and the comedy is blended a lot more naturally.

It really was just better Yuru Camp.

No other show this season filled me with as much unconditional love as this did – it kind of has to be 10/10 lol.

Beastars Season 2

Like for Dr Stone, this is just everything that was great about the first season but again.

Only now we have what feels like a much clearer sense of progression? Granted I could just be misremembering season 1 but because we are kind of past lots of the initial worldbuilding stage, characters have a little bit more room to take actions that have influences on one another and the setting.

Legoshi is now the ultimate carnivore guilt herbivore white knight ever and manages to be extremely cringe yet very compelling.

Louis runs the fucking lion mafia and reconciles his prey weakness and predator love in a really cool and interesting way.

The pair are extremely gay holy shit the homoerotic tension is off the charts.

Would say despite a greater focus on the narrative and the characters – including a fun follow-up on that murder mystery the show literally opened on – the worldbuilding still manages to be really strong by way of what’s technically filler content but just enhances the experience so much.

Like we don’t need to see cheetah girl and sheep girl go shopping together but all their dialogue about being unable to wear certain types of fabric because of static electricity or cheetah being unable to wear patterned clothing because of her fur – like it’s really quite inconsequential shit but you watch it and you’re like “fuuuuuuuuuuuuck that’s really well thought out and immersive”.

I don’t think I realised how god tier this OST was lol, fuckin jazzy and smooth as all shit, really gives every scene such an amazing atmosphere.

Beastars is just, really fucking good okay.

Dr Stone: Stone Wars

Dr Stone season 2 baybeeee!

Literally everything that was good about season 1 holds true here lol.

It’s just more of what was good about the show. Endearing cast, solid humour, great sense of multipurpose progression and gratification, just the usual “Dr Stone is fun as fuck” shit.

Its approach to its titular war is exactly as shounen idealism as I was hoping for – we set out to achieve a bloodless war and the only thing even closely resembling a casualty is Tsukasa himself – who still ends up in cold sleep to be saved later. Which was pretty damn emotional and feels like a satisfying thing to do with his character.

Visuals have been upgraded, weeeeee.

I don’t actually have much else to say lol, this is just more of a show I love and it’s an arc I loved and I’m so happy we’re getting season 3.

Uma Musume: Pretty Derby Season 2

So, I watched Uma Musume s1 more or less as it aired 3 years ago, I vaguely recall enjoying it somewhat, and I gave it a 6/10. Far from an impressive score to be sure, and today I remember just about as close to nothing as one could.

Suffice to say I didn’t really have much in the way of reason to be excited for season 2 – I expected it to be a cute and fairly easy time that wouldn’t really grip me much further than that, and in fact with a season so full of sequels I expected this to feel like somewhat of a chore in relation to some of the other stuff we had.

You can see how that turned out based on this fucking 9/10 score? For the fucking horse girl anime?

Yeah nah Uma s2 was just, like it completely blew me away.

I don’t think I expected as compelling a sports narrative as that turned out to be from Uma Musume, like I was sincerely completely engaged in almost everyone’s individual dreams and desires to win and emotionally devastated by the outside factors holding them back – before being brought back to tears again seeing them persist in spite of it all. Episode 11 especially had me ugly crying – which anime hasn’t really done to me in a while.

Apparently s1 looks a lot better than I remember but I really liked how season 2 has looked – the character designs are delightfully adorable and animate really well.

Also the voice acting is like, good, like really good, these girls have a lot of very sincere emotion in their performances that really elevate the viewing experience, like it’s shockingly much better than it needs to be.

Best way to describe this season really – “better than it needs to be”. A lot better. Unexpected sleeper hit of the season, already a favourite of the year, as weird as that feels for Uma Musume.

Non Non Biyori Nonstop

Marathoned the entire rest of this franchise about 2 weeks before s3 aired in prep, fell in love with it, and yeah season 3 was no exception to the quality of this series.

Non Non Biyori is just pure nostalgic iyashikei incarnate – like if you ever had fun as a child? Non Non Biyori is for you. It just reminds you of the good times, how much fun every day could be, that feeling of waking up not knowing what could happen and just living each day in pursuit of fun, free of commitments.

And like while that could make you sad about how much you miss the good old days in theory, Non Non Biyori is literally too fucking good to where you won’t even be able to feel anything other than joy watching it.

The only real thing that made this season feel weak to me is that it was competing directly with Yuru Camp which despite aiming to do things a little differently, still feels broadly similar enough to where like, I guess I just couldn’t not compare it to Yuru Camp – which was better in my mind.

Even then a 9/10 is a 9/10 though so fuckin, stop bitching.

Pui Pui Molcar

Shoutouts to WEPcord because I had 0 intention of watching this at first – hell hadn’t even heard of it until WEPcord – and eventually got persuaded to binge the whole thing at the end of the season.

It was among the most enjoyable ~24 minutes of my life.

It’s just like, cute and funny and it looks really nice.

That’s it.

That’s literally it!

Pui Pui Molcar isn’t here for a long time but it’s sure as shit here for a good time and if you just want to laugh at these funny guinea pig cars being cute and charming and ponder the mechanics of this world where guinea pigs evolved into transportation yet regular boats and helicopters exist then hey you can do just that!

Not quite “sleeper” hit of the season since it’s highly rated and regarded by everyone it seems and got pretty fucking popular but still, certainly the most pleasant surprise this season.

Attack on Titan: The Final Season

“Final season” they said as if we’re not now waiting until Winter 2022 smh.

Anyway the dramatic shift in the setting following s3p2’s big reveal dramatically increases the scope of the world while still keeping the narrative feeling distinctly “Attack on Titan” in a good way.

Politics that are entertaining, characters having very huge and tangible and believable impact on the wider world, breaking trust, cycle of violence, buzzwords buzzwords, it’s 3 fucking am.

This season has really nice artwork but isn’t very exciting to watch – MAPPA sure as shit have less exciting sakuga cuts and their CG titans are a little offputting – their CG humans even more so. Expressions still very top tier tho.

Eren is extremely based but also scuffed and it’s cool and cringe in a good way.

I like lots of the new characters – Gabi specifically is really great, love Ayane Sakura’s performance.

Yeah idk how to be productive about this I’m tired. AOT good.

SK8 The Infinity

Woah, an anime original about skateboarding? That has actually literally never happened before – I have to pick this one up.

Works out that skating is, to some extent, near and dear to my heart – my stepdad loves skateboarding so I’m sort of interested in it by proxy. Second this got announced I told him about it and I’ve been telling him how I feel about every episode as it released – so that’s certainly been fun.

Actual show quality worked out to be pretty great too – it’s a fun sports narrative that puts “have actual fun with the activity” as its first core theme and goes through decently well written trials and tribulations to get us there.

Also looks really nice – I was a big fan of the character designs and there were lots of great action cuts during boarding around.

Seeing Reki and Langa close together brought out my inner fucking fujoshi so that felt gay.

Appreciate that the supporting cast wasn’t giant but definitely more could have been done with them – SHADOW and MIYA are important for all of a scene and then just kind of get to exposit shit. JOE and CHERRY kind of just are exposition and some jokes you’ve seen before.

Really didn’t much care for ADAM as an antagonist – he’s way, way too silly for me to take seriously, he completely defies physics in a way that makes it hard to be invested in the stakes of his races, and he doesn’t really have a compelling dynamic with anyone around him – not even his attempted main rival of Langa. Wouldn’t strictly say he dragged the show down – it was certainly fun watching him wreck people, but I do think we could have had a better antagonist.

In some sense this is definitely unfair but I do wish it had been a lot more grounded in reality – it’s the first skateboarding anime so if it wants to get people into skateboarding it should probably temper their expectations a little. Also by the show’s end it embraces the power of friendship so strongly as to suggest that skating alone sucks which I think is a bad message to send about an activity that’s perfectly enjoyable on its own. Those and a kind of eh jealousy arc were enough to hold the show back from an 8 for me. 7 is still not bad for a bishie boy sports original anime tho.

Cells at Work: Black

So this is Cells at Work but in a body that’s shitty and unhealthy.

It’s quite a lot more entertaining than Cells at Work – it’s got a good level of edge to it and a clearer structure that made it feel more narratively compelling than regular Cells and fuck, they even throw in major character deaths that got me surprisingly emotional.

Sweet moments also work decently well just because of what they exist in relation to.

Ending kinda shitty though and left a bad taste in my mouth.

Still just better Cells though.

Horimiya

I enjoyed the first couple of episodes more than I expected to but it quickly got boring as the cast expanded and all actual developments stopped.

Like I didn’t go into this expecting to like it because it was a high school romance that Reddit were hyped for so I expected it to be completely mediocre, but it surprised me with charming characters and good presentation in the early episodes.

Said good presentation remains a constant throughout the show, while the midsection or so is just lots of Hori and Miyamura being cute and fun – the will they/won’t they is resolved extremely quickly so we leave off with the feeling of getting to see a fairly realistic and natural portrayal of two high school lovers, I was a big fan.

However sort of throughout most of the show and becoming particularly prominent later on is a very expansive cast of super forgettable characters engaging in really quite bland interactions. Hori and Miyamura’s domestic life was this almost iyashikei romance for me that I really loved but basically every character outside of them was just a stock character template with a stock character arc in a stock high school slice of life.

For as good as the presentation is the show could feel kind of up its own ass at times? Particularly the shots of monotone silhouettes extending out of characters over a white background – didn’t seem to have a clear purpose and came across to me as more pretentious than anything else.

Cells at Work Season 2

It’s more Cells, huh.

Probably looks better than s1? Lot of ugly CG though.

HanaKana is barely in it this time around, there’s like a normal cell boy who gets more screentime

Said normal said boy comes with some cute animal sidekick characters and because of how they’re introduced they feel like a shitty Manic Pixie Dream Girlfriend esque deus ex machina.

Tbh this probably isn’t actually worse than s1 which I gave a 7/10 but literally this and Black is just too much Cells at once for me and since Black was better uh, yeah, s2 felt a bit more like a chore.

I’m so glad this was only 8 episodes.

Urasekai Picnic

Yuri so I was guaranteed to watch.

Light sci-fi horror which sounds interesting and is a nice change of pace for yuri anime.

It’s not that great as a yuri because it doesn’t really reach the point in the story where the relationship between the leads develops.

It’s pretty alright as a horror though – it deals a lot in urban legend type stuff and while there are numerous monsters present, there’s quite a lot of horror in just the atmosphere of it all. The Otherside has liminal space vibes but as an exterior environment instead.

Helping the atmosphere is the really great and unsettling soundtrack – lots of very alien sounding things and jumps from high notes to low notes that are jarring in a really nice way. It’s got real “My favorite song was an untitled ﬁle called “ssssddsdrt66677888.ogg” that I found on a flash drive that I found in a landﬁll in Tunisia” vibes.

The main area where Urasekai obviously falters is in the adaptation itself. We don’t spend as much time in Sorao’s head as we seem to do in what I’ve seen of the novels, so she’s less gay and has less intricate characterisation. And the direction of the show in general is just a bit too weak to really sell you on a lot of the emotions it wants you to feel.

Really this show’s visuals are lacking in just about everything that’s not background art – and even that is only just fine. Character artwork is never impressive, animation is pretty lacking, they use ugly CG models for even mid-range shots of the characters, basically every monster design is some really bad looking CG, and as I said last point, the direction sucks. It’s just not particularly creepy or evocative or tense and it’s straight up fucking bad during chase scenes – it constantly changes the established sense of speed per party or distance between them or what the location is and generally just makes it extremely hard to actually follow, killing all tension.

I would say I was endeared to this show – I liked the characters and want to see them more and pretty much everything they were doing I still found to be fun, but this was clearly a bad translation from one medium to another and it sucks to see that happen.

Sorao best girl.

Soukou Musume Senki

Lowkey sleeper hit of the season.

Mecha magical girls do travelling around weird Japan for slice of life stuff and occasional action with a strong overlying comedic tone throughout.

Unironically funny, endearing cast with good and natural chemistry.

Art is kind of ugly and CG a bit offputting however lots of the choreography for fights is really solid and as soon as you’re used to the style it just actually looks good.

I completely get why this show is as low rated as it is but it was very easy to watch and definitely made my Wednesdays since the other Wednesday show - Re:Zero - was miserable.

Gekidol

Tfw you watch a show because it has ‘idol’ in the title but it’s like, a time travel world destroying sci-fi robot stageplay yuri loli fanservice show with maybe 3 minutes of idol content total.

At no point while watching Gekidol did I really know what I was watching nor why things were that way. Or rather – I eventually knew it was some weird sci-fi shit, but that made me question what the hell all the pointless stage acting idol cute girl window dressing was all about.

Also that yuri kiss in episode 4 made me more excited for the show than anything else but it’s never developed upon and sorta just happens?

Same for that nude gravure photoshoot a main girl did when she was age 13 – it informs one line of dialogue she says but is otherwise just a pointless random oddity.

This show was just kinda boring to watch a lot of the time actually, which combined with the rather complex plot made this show super difficult to follow.

Visually it’s, eh? The art is actually pretty solid and there’s some good and consistent animation but the direction feels weird for the sake of weird, the character designs are impossible to distinguish from one another, and the colour palette is not pretty on the eyes.

Ngl the main appeal of watching this show was being in WEPcord and talking about it with people – where I learned that it’s loosely adapted from some shows done by the real Alice In theatre troupe that’s existed since like 2010-ish, and Gekidol’s anime started being promoted in like 2016 or so, and was fully finished production around 2017-2018 – it only just made it to TV now for some reason. Fuck the full series Blu-Ray released before the 11th and 12th episodes even aired on TV.

Just the meta of Gekidol as well as the meme enjoyment of it in WEPcord endeared me to it more than I’d probably have otherwise, so like, yeah.

Idolls

CG mocap idol sketch comedy thing.

For the most part once you’re past the initial jarring nature of watching this type of animation, the show looks really quite solid. Models are very high quality and quite a bit of attention is paid to how they interact with their environment. It’s really just the facial animations that look bad – they’re early Vtuber tier “snap” expressions with an unappealing art style to boot. Hair is also jank. Other than that though, looks nice.

Funny-ish? Idk, not totally absurdist but sort of wild enough to be fun, also the talking head was surprisingly endearing as a straight man.

Song from the last episode was actually fairly solid, wild.

This is like the first show I’ve watched and like, meme’d to death with a community of even a few others, which did endear me to it a lot, hence the actually decent score.

I mean it’s 10 episodes and they’re all only 8 minutes long, why not watch it?

The Promised Neverland season 2

Hahahahahhahahahaahahahahahahahahahaha

Man I’m anime only, right, and fuckin, in the first like honestly 10 episodes I did find a lot to enjoy. Well, maybe not “a lot”, but like a good amount of stuff.

Granted, I was also very often bored, or straight up finding certain narrative decisions to be bad and dumb.

Then the last episode came, right, and it like, set up a season 3. But it didn’t. Because it then gave us a 2 minute slideshow literally resolving THE ENTIRE NARRATIVE, like what???????

It was so bad it was good, so narratively unfulfilling but so inherently funny to see something cock up so badly.

Really got a lot of schadenfreude out of this one lol, s1 kinda mid to begin with.

Love the meta of it taking 12 episodes for these kids to escape the farms – the literal prologue – and it taking 11 episodes for them to resolve the entire rest of the global conflict lol.

Yeah idk man this was one hell of a trip. Funniest anime ever.

Idoly Pride

Can’t believe we got 3 idol shows this season.

Idoly Pride was probably the most technically well put together of these 3 idol shows – most polished visuals, really lovely character designs, a lot of the music was pretty good – it’s the most conventionally solid anime of the bunch.

But it’s also just kinda boring to watch outside of cute girls. Plots are very predictable and often super cringy, the girls are mad unmemorable with only the 2 leads having any notable character – really the only reason to like any of them is if they tickle your moe (*cough* Suzu and Chisa).

There’s like, a manager character. And he’s just a normal looking black haired anime boy whose only defining characteristics are that he works hard and is dense. Riveting. Dead girl is in love with him for some reason. He has too much screentime and fuckin, wish he was dead.

Speaking of dead, yeah dead girl. Mana. This show’s first episode is a painfully dragged out slog where we learn that the best idol ever died and then her presence hangs over the rest of the show in the form of a literal ghost that can talk to Makino and randomly one of the girls. It’s fuckin, real weird, kind of too goofy to take seriously, really breaks the tone of that first episode especially, and uh, yeah idk.

Honestly calling this boring is kind of all you need to do with it – it’s not really fun to watch and doesn’t add anything interesting to the meta of idols ala Gekidol and Idolls.

Only reason to even watch is because idol completionist.

Re:Zero Season 2 Part 2

This was just torture to watch.

I can’t fucking believe someone approved 12 HALF HOUR LONG episodes that ran the OP and ED almost never.

It would generally take me 2 minutes of an episode to feel like I’d consumed 24 minutes worth of content – by the end of an episode it’d felt like real world years had passed.

I don’t get why every single character in this show has to overexplain their full mental thought process for every single decision they make and every single emotion they feel literally every episode. Several minutes will occur where someone is just saying why they feel X way and it’s the most elementary shit ever but because it takes a while to say the fans have fooled themselves into thinking this dialogue is smart and means something or endears us to the characters.

Why did “Emilia was happy but then her family got killed and she was sad :(“ take 90 fucking minutes, or maybe 2 hours even I don’t fucking remember.

God this just sucked. I hated this.

Back Arrow

Two cour original mecha anime, sure.

It’s 5am and the show could go to shit during the second cour as befalls so many original anime so I’m gonna keep this brief.

Back Arrow is a really charming and funny comedy show with a pretty basic set of characters and worldbuilding as well as some obvious influences but it feels like it wants to be and is its own thing entirely that’s inspired from yet not derivative of several more successful mecha anime. It also feels like a product of the 2000s but I mean that solely as a compliment – shit just feels easier when you’re watching Back Arrow.

Nothing about this show is the most compelling thing in the world but if you asked me to name anything wrong with it I’d have nothing to really tell you. It’s a show where the quality can be described as “pretty good!” without much need for anything else. Since it’s currently airing anyway there’s no harm in picking it up to finish – though how likely I’d be to tell someone to sit down and watch 24 episodes of this once it’s done just depends on cour 2 plays out I guess.

Easy recommend if you like what this show looks like – it kind of is exactly what it says on the tin – but if you like mecha anime you’re watching this anyway lol.

MAL score is in the 5.7s or something at the time of writing which I literally don’t get lol.

Though saying that if I had to estimate a score atm I’d go like 6/10 lol. Fun, charming, and obviously entertaining enough for me to not drop it in the season where I wanted to drop anything whenever I could – but mind bogglingly good this is not. Doesn’t make it not worth watching though, but we’ll see what cour 2 has in store.

Maiko-san Chi no Makanai-san

Want a show with a weird release? How about this anime that has 2 episodes out because they release monthly? They’re just normal enough TV anime episodes – 24 minutes with a 90 second OP and ED – one real defining characteristic being that episodes are split into thirds but that’s still kind of normal. Unsure what about this specifically warranted a monthly release but whatever.

Quality wise it’s been eh so far – it’s really boring for a slice of life and I barely finished the first episode – second one I didn’t even get 5 minutes in before I had to turn the speed up. Jokes are a bit too Japanese for me to care about and characters aren’t exactly endearing either.

Most notable thing about this show is that it’s full CG but you honestly wouldn’t really be able to tell at a glance – it’s very simple but it looks really nice. Not mind blowing in any way – certainly no Beastars level – but it’s enough to show that you can do CG shows that look perfectly adequate and have nothing really going against them visually.

The actual main reason to care about this show is to hear M.A.O do a Kyoto accent and feel very “woah that sounds weird” the entire time. The end.

Kumo Desu ga, Nani ka?

This is a show for which my initial expectations of what I would like and dislike about it were pretty much spot on.

I expected I’d absolutely adore Aoi Yuuki’s performance and that she’d singlehandedly make the show watchable and that the rest of it would just be absolute bullshit I’d hate every second of.

And yeah, this show looks ugly as sin, everything that’s not Aoi Yuuki’s voice sounds awful, the dialogue is unbearable, and when it’s anything other than Aoi Yuuki I’m bored enough to want to claw my eyes out.

Turns out carrying an entire show on your own is a difficult task even for Aoi Yuuki – though once again this is actually just a “this season too busy” thing. If I didn’t crave more free time I’d keep watching this since Aoi Yuuki’s performance for this spider character actually is really great and endearing and exactly as high quality as I expected from her – she really went too hard for a show that’s otherwise as awful as this one is.

Also somehow got 2 cours and I don’t actually know if I could take 24 episodes of this so I’m glad I passed after only 3.

Jaku-Chara Tomozaki-kun

Self help guide for incels who hate how shitty the world is for them but do nothing to go about and change that.

Basically just tells them how to go about and change it in really obvious and easily applicable steps.

Relates them to gamer lingo because obviously.

Pretty noble cause for a show to indulge in, though not something I personally need, so I was basically just watching to cringe at the haha gamer humour.

Watching so many shows this season though and desperate to give myself more free time in a day that I decided to drop it.

Not bad and any other season I’d finish it but eh. 3 episodes is a decent shot still.

Tenchi Souzou Design-bu

I managed 1 episode.

I think I expected this to be really wild and they'd make all sorts of crazy hybrid animals.

But instead they just make normal ones.

So it's an edutainment show, and I think 2 Cells at Work anime are enough edutainment in a season for me.

Character designs aren't my thing.

It was cool learning about how these animals interact I guess but not that cool because too much emphasis is placed on education and not enough on entertainment.

Might’ve finished in a less stacked season or if this was like 4 minute episodes or something – full length feels too long for this.

Wonder Egg Priority

I just do not fucking know. I have never invested so much of myself into a seasonal anime and consequently have never been so emotionally drained by how one ended up. This is absolutely a show I’m going to need to think on a lot before I decide on any sort of score and definitely fit some amount of rewatches in as well. Would just say to expect a fuller thoughts on Wonder Egg post in the future where I decide on a score or something.

Girl of the Season – Shimarin

Yeah kind of obvious – she just is my favourite character from anything this season and season 2 especially gave us such a charming and loveable Shimarin, totally in love with her. I think I knew before the season even started that she’d be Girl of the Season and yeah, that sure as shit held true.

Boy of the Season – Senku Ishigami

Tbh favourite male is a tiny bit harder since Beastars exists but Senku’s just so charismatic and always fun to watch and super duper based and I particularly love the very sentimental Senku we get as this season came to a close – his friendship with Tsukasa was pretty damn gripping. Man’s just great.

Anime of the Season – Yuru Camp Season 2

Went over all the reasons this was amazing way back at the start, it’s the only 10 I even gave out here, this should really go without saying. Would call this like, my 6th favourite anime of all time – will probs be AOTY but we’ll see.

Overall this was one hell of a season – way more fucking sequels than you’d ever need, couple other random adaptations that were solid, some at the very least fascinating original shows, 3 fucking idol shows, a whole bunch of shit. Would certainly call this an overwhelming season – my completionist mentality forced me to finish a lot of things I didn’t exactly want to and I was constantly looking for excuses to drop things. Not gonna say it wasn’t rewarding finishing what I did anyway but my god I hope there’s literally never a season like this ever again. And yet I’ve already got like 15 shows lined up for Spring, and I think even Summer I’ve got 5 or 6 or so... Fuck I should stop following seasonals, huh?

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faeymouse · 3 years

Note

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it? for lougosi

Buckle up, I have a surprisingly loquacious love for jealous! lougoshi.

Louis is definitely more jealous than Legoshi. Before he realizes his feelings for Legoshi are romantic, he finds himself getting irritated when he notices others being closer to Legoshi than he allows himself to be. You can imagine the miniature nuke that goes off in his head when, say, he meets Jack for the first and sees how easily he and Legoshi get along. They even share clothes? And secrets?? I could go on and on about how I imagine the Jack and Louis dynamic would go (Louis has disdain for him until he realizes how beneficial it is to have Jack on your side - would he convince his father to keep an eye on this dog to make him the first non-herbivore employee of the Horns Conglomerate once he graduates? Yes - and Jack is one of the few animals in existence that will refuse to be cowed by Louis if it’s to help Legoshi. Mobsters? Lions and tigers and wolves? The entire population of a private high school? All it takes is one glare from Louis and they’re down. They don’t have anything on one very good boi named Jack), but I digress.

Louis may get jealous far more easily, but he’s not quick to react to it. He’s spent his whole life wearing one mask after another, so he’s an expert at having quiet internal meltdowns. Meanwhile, though he takes a while to put 2 and 2 together, when Legoshi gets jealous he can’t hide it at all. Say for example they’re both at some fancy party, and see the other being flirted with. Louis would get jealous quickly, and likely respond to it by finding an excuse to pull Legoshi away (the chance to hold his hand for a moment is just a bonus) then later casually ruining the flirter’s entire life with a few simple phone calls. Legoshi would get jealous slowly, and likely respond with one terrifying glare before place himself between Louis and whoever is flirting with him like a veritable wall of muscle and fur, without any explanation and likely causing a scene. Louis acts offended, but you can bet he finds it hotter than an Arizona sidewalk in summer when Legoshi grasps him by the shoulders and growls “We’re leaving.”

#babbles #anonymice #ask game answers #lougoshi

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jmeelee · 5 years

Text

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Stiles and Derek’s Cat

Sterek Week 2019 • Mystery

Rating: T (for swearing and lite innuendo)

Word Count: 2.1 K

***********

Derek flips on his blinker, and the taxi driver riding his ass swerves around the Camaro, rolling down a window and shouting something indecipherable while Derek pulls into the fire lane in front of the airport. His sister walks through the automatic doors as he climbs out and pops the trunk, a parting blast of air conditioning blowing her dark shoulder-length hair around her head like a demonic halo. She’s dressed in an old band t-shirt with a black blazer layered over top, and ripped skinny jeans, one hand gripping the handle of her rolling luggage, the other pressing a ratty book to her chest.

“It seems stupid for a werewolf to be superstitious,” Cora greets, handing Derek the leather-bound album, “but I didn’t want to take the chance of it getting lost in the mail.”

He pulls her close in a one-armed hug; Cora was never the overly affectionate type, but distance and pseudo-death make the heart grow fonder. “I appreciate you lugging it all this way. Stiles has been asking me a lot of family questions since he started emissary training, and I wanted to put some faces to the names he’s been hearing.” Pictures that aren't attached to obituaries, he silently adds.

She tosses her suitcase into the trunk, dusty wheels leaving a streak of dirt across the upholstery, and slams it closed, climbing in through the passenger door Derek holds open. “Alpha Varela had a decent amount, and Alpha Ogden gave me a half-dozen,” she supplies as he slides behind the wheel and pulls out into traffic, “but they only fill up a quarter of the pages. It’s pretty pathetic.”

She reaches out a hand, lovingly runs fingers over the brown cover embossed with a triskelion.

“It is,” Derek concedes, “but it’s better than nothing.” His fingers itch to flip through the meager pages immediately, pour over the pictures like Cora’s been able to do, and bring his long-dead family back to life, but it will have to wait through rush hour traffic and a trip to the pet store. They’re out of cat food, and Agnes Nutter—the stray orange tabby Stiles fell in love with when he started spending so much time with Deaton at the vet clinic, and proceeded to drag home—has been known to take claws to the curtains, leather couches and freshly painted walls when dinner isn’t served on time.

“We’re back!” Derek calls through the front door an hour later, pulling his key out of the lock.

Cora drops two five-pound bags of dry food to the entry-way floor. “How much does this damn cat eat?” She laughs. Derek shrugs, wet food cans clanking in the bags hanging from his hands. The album is tucked securely under his armpit.

“I’m in the family room!” Comes Stiles’ disembodied voice. Derek detours to the kitchen to stock the cat food in the walk-in pantry and Cora heads to the back of the house to greet her brother-in-law. He’s only moments behind her, but when he finally rounds the corner into the family room, his little sister’s face is shifted, snarls twisting out of her throat through elongated teeth, and Stiles is sitting on the couch, eyes wide, laptop in one hand and the other raised, palm out, sparks sizzling along his fingertips. Acrid ozone spikes the air.

“What. The. Hell.”

“I don’t know, dude!” Stiles’ voice trills and Derek doesn’t have the time to admonish his husband for calling him dude. “She rolled in here and didn’t even say hello! Just went all grrrr-” his nose does the scrunchy little thing Derek secretly loves, top teeth bared like an adorably angry hamster- “and scared the shit out of me.”

“It’s that...thing,” Cora rasps, pointing a claw-tipped finger at Agnes Nutter, calmly lording over the room from Stiles’ blanketed lap, like a ginger queen on a throne.

Stiles drops his laptop to the couch cushion, wrapping his now free arm around Agnes, who’s yellow eyes squint in annoyance at the vigorous display of affectionate protection. “What’s your problem with my cat? Does the lupine-feline rivalry actually run that deep?”

“Really, Stiles? Dog jokes? Now?” Derek rubs at a tension headache brewing over his left eyebrow.

“Stiles,” Cora commands through sharp white teeth, “get away from it. It’s a demon.”

Agnes answers the accusation with a charming little “meow,” and rubs a paw over her docked left ear.

“Put your teeth away. She’s my pet!” Stiles shrieks.

“Derek. Get the photo album,” Cora orders.

Derek glances back toward the kitchen. He can see the book sitting on the granite countertop, but is loathe to leave the room. “Is this really the best time for a Hale family history lesson?”

“You bet your hairy ass it is. Go get those pictures. Now.”

Derek’s never been more grateful for supernatural speed. “Here.” He hands the album to his sister, who flips open to the second page, turns the book around and hands it back to him.

At first, Derek’s baffled. What do his unearthed family photos have to do with a c—

An orange and white striped cat that’s sitting on his grandmother’s lap, when she was roughly thirty years old. A cat that twists around his mother’s ankles as she stands on tip-toe to kiss his father on the cheek, while toddler Laura plays in the background. A cat that lingers behind his great-grandfather as he cuts the ribbon at the dedication ceremony for the Beacon Hills preserve. The last photo is in black and white, but this cat, like the others, has a docked left ear.

“Stiles…” Derek looks up at his husband. Agnes stares at him with slanted eyes. He does the math in his head. At least fifty years…

Stiles groans, head lolling on the back of the couch. “Don’t tell me she’s a Flerkin. I knew I should have named her Goose.”

“Not a Flerkin,” Cora says. “But definitely something.”

Agnes jumps off Stiles’ lap and calmly pads over to her empty food dish, flops down next to it, and lets out a loud, piercing howl.

“Get the cat carrier,” Derek says. “We’re going to Deaton’s.”

———-

“Why did you let me adopt a time-traveling cat?!”

Deaton, as usual, says nothing in face of Stiles’ hysterics. Agnes dangles from Stiles’ outstretched arms, held at a forty-five-degree angle like a domesticated lion king. She blinks, whiskers twitching. Derek feels her pain; the overlapping scents of animal, iodine and industrial-grade disinfectant makes him want to hurl.

“I was surprised you even got a cat,” Scott chimes in from the waiting room chair. Having a pet who turns out to be old enough to collect social security merits calling your alpha right away. “I didn’t think you liked them. Remember my old Maine Coon, Louis? You used to pelt him in the ass with spitballs.”

Everyone’s mouths drop collectively, and Stiles reels Agnes back to his chest, hiding part of his blushing cheek in her soft orange fur. “I was seven, Scott! And in my defense, Louis used to bite my toes through my sleeping bag.”

“Well, thank goodness it was in retaliation,” Derek deadpans. “I wouldn’t want to be married to an animal abuser.”

A war plays out on Stiles’ flushed face; narrowed eyes shooting daggers at Derek, while the corner of his generous mouth cocks up. “I didn’t hear any complaints from you the other night.”

“Gross,” Cora bemoans. “Get a room.”

“Already did.” Tucking Agnes under his arm like a football, Stiles holds up his free hand and wiggles his fingers, white-gold wedding band flashing under the fluorescent lights. “Made it legal and everything.”

“Did you bring the photos?” Deaton inquires, enigmatic face as placid as the surface of the little pond in the preserve. Cora hands them over, and everyone watches Deaton slowly flip through the pages, eyes skimming over each picture. “Hum,” he says, laying the album on top of the reception desk, open to the picture of Derek’s parents with Agnes at their feet.

“Hum? That’s all you have to say?” Stiles scoffs.

“I’m surprised at you, Stiles,” Deaton says softly, crossing arms over his lab coat. “I thought you knew what Agnes was when you took her home.”

“Obviously not,” Stiles grumbles. “I’m supposed to be learning from you, aren’t I? One would assume the teacher would tell the student if the class pet was an immortal demon waiting to eat their face off when they fell asleep.”

Derek feels a hysterical giggle crawl up his throat and clamps his lips closed.

Deaton spins the album around to face the waiting room, and Scott extricates his butt from the chair to creep closer. Deaton taps the top right corner of the Hale’s photograph. “I took this picture in nineteen-eighty-eight. Derek,” he says, glancing up into his face, “your parents had just gotten the news they were pregnant with you.”

The giggle threatens to turn into a sob.

“Talia and Sebation celebrated their good fortune with a pack dinner. As you well know-” Deaton turns toward Scott- “emissaries are invited to important pack events.” He turns back to the room at large. “I came that evening, and Agnes, as you are fond of calling her, came with me.” He flips to the picture of Derek’s great-grandfather. “Emissaries protect their alpha’s, so I assume the former Hale pack emissary was somewhere in the crowd during this ceremony.” Deaton blinks, letting the pregnant pause come to full gestation. “Familiars tend to follow witches wherever they go.”

“So…” Cora trails off, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips while she studies Agnes. “She’s a familiar? Familiars are demons, right?”

“Fantastic,” Stiles sighs, shoulders slumping. “We all know my track record with demons.” His face is carefully blank, except for the bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“No concrete evidence exists to say familiars are demons,” Deaton lectures. “In fact, that tends to be an antiquated belief held over from the witch trials. Some believe they are fae, or goblins, sent to assist fledgling witches in the practice of magic. Others believe they’re guardian angels.”

“Ha!” Stiles crows, sticking his tongue out at Cora. “She’s not a demon after all. She’s an angel. Take that!”

“Hey!” Scott helpfully adds. “You could change her name to Aziraphale!” Stiles looks like he’s considering it.

“I’m not trying to rain on the parade,” Derek cuts in, ignoring Stiles’ mumbled Sourwolf, “but you’re saying Agnes is here to help Stiles? She mostly just eats, craps, coughs up hairballs in my shoes and knocks shit off the counters. Like that time she broke the vial of ground-up Mucuna pruriens, and we all broke out in that horrible rash.” Derek’s butt itches just thinking about it.

Scott snaps his fingers, goofy smile stretching across his face. “Yeah! And then Stiles used it to make those smoke bombs we attacked the hunter’s compound with the following month. It’s like she knew exactly what he needed to use.”

Everyone stares at Agnes, baffled and impressed.

“Legends say familiars most often take small animal forms,” Deaton continues, “but some are human-like, or can shape-shift. One was a horse.”

“No,” Derek says to both his husband and Agnes, on the off chance any ideas are forming in their heads. “No horses in the house. We don’t have the room.”

“So, you’ve told us what legends say, and what other people think about familiars.” Stiles bounces on his toes, jostling Agnes. She yowls, and he plops her onto the reception desk next to her portraits. “You’ve been an emissary for years. What do you believe?”

Deaton inhales deeply through his nose, exhales through his mouth. “I believe they’re an extension of our souls.”

Stiles smiles, scritching Agnes behind her mangled ear. “You’re the Pantalaimon to my Lyra. The Salem to my Sabrina. The—” Agnes hoists one leg straight into the air and starts licking her butt.

“Yup.” Cora smirks. “That makes total sense.”

“In conclusion, Stiles, your pet is not a demon who’s waiting to eat your face off. Now, can I please go home for the evening?”

It takes half a bag of treats to coax Agnes back into the cat carrier, and Deaton locks the doors to the clinic on their way out.

“I thought she was a stray,” Stiles says as they all head out into the moonlit night, voice a little wobbly. “I didn’t realize she was... Do you want her back?”

Deaton’s smile is as mystifying as ever. “She’s yours now, Stiles.”

Derek notes that, unsurprisingly, Deaton didn’t actually answer the question.

“One more thing,” Derek says, loading Agnes into the backseat of the Camaro. He’s strangely curious, even though he’s heard what curiosity did to the proverbial cat. “If she was yours for years, you must have given her a name. What was it?” Even arcane Dr. Deaton must be human enough to name his cat. Right?

“Some things,” Deaton answers before he slams his car door, “will have to remain a mystery.”

#sterekweek2019 #sterekmystery #eternalsterek #sterek #haleinski #my fic #sterek fic

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ericsonclan · 4 years

Text

Chore Time

Summary: Clementine and Violet adjust to life at Ericson with their injuries.

Read on A03:

“Just kill me now,” Violet groaned as she continued scrubbing the dirt off the Jerusalem artichokes in preparation for dinner.

This was the fifth night in a row that she and Clementine had been assigned to food prep, likely because it was the only thing they were capable of given their injuries. It wasn’t like keeping watch or going hunting would be on the table anytime soon. So instead they sat around day in and day out washing clothes, sewing up holes or preparing ingredients for meals. Needless to say, both girls were already sick of the work.

“It could be worse,” Clementine mused, cutting through the skin on a freshly caught rabbit. “We could still have Omar looking over our shoulders every other second,”

Violet sighed. “You got me there. At least we’ve graduated beyond only having dish duty. Wish I could hold the knife though,”

“You’ll get there eventually. Your eyesight’s improving every day,”

Violet scoffed. “Yeah, keep telling me that. Let’s face it: this is as good as it’s going to get,” She did a circular motion around her face before throwing another tuber onto the pile.

“Got another rabbit to peel,” Clementine offered. She held the beheaded carcass up by its legs. Violet leaned forward, grabbing the skin on either side and beginning to pull back. They rocked back and forth slightly as they removed the skin from the flesh, Clementine holding fast to the legs as Violet tugged steadily on the fur. Eventually the skin came off with a final schlorp. “Thanks,” Clem said, laying the carcass back down on the board to butcher.

They could hear A.J. laughing from somewhere else in the yard. Louis was with him right now. Clem smiled. Louis was probably telling another one of his crazy stories about hunting mountain lions or wrestling barracudas to A.J. It was good to see the two of them getting along so well. She was still getting used to having others around that could watch out for A.J., but she had to admit it was sort of nice to have some time without him underfoot.

Violet squinted as she looked over toward the admin building. “Is that Aasim over there?”

Clementine turned to look. “Yup. Writing as always,”

“God, I wonder what he comes up with to write every day. ‘Dear Diary, today we caught three rabbits instead of two. One of the fish traps broke. What an amazing day!’”

Clementine chuckled. “It’s a journal, remember? Not a diary,” Aasim and Louis had gotten into a fight just two nights ago on that very topic.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Oh, of course! My bad. Honestly though, most of his entries are probably just complaints about Louis. Hunting with him every day must be driving Aasim insane,”

“You mean to tell me Louis is not Aasim’s first choice of a hunting partner?” Clementine asked, her brows wiggling playfully.

Violet snorted. “Marlon sure paired them up enough for all Aasim’s complaining,” Her expression grew sad as she looked down at her hands resting in the dirty water. “Sometimes he’d tag along to keep the peace between those two. Mitch and Brody also took a lot of hunting shifts,”

Clementine’s eyes dropped too. To think she’d only known Marlon, Brody, Mitch, and Tenn for a few days and then they were gone… the marks they’d left in her memory felt so much stronger than that. Perhaps because of their importance in the remaining kids’ lives. Even though they were gone, their presence was felt everywhere around the school. In the test beakers still sitting in the greenhouse lab, the lull of the river – the closest Brody ever got to the ocean - the nameplate in the headmaster’s office that Marlon had made for himself, Tenn’s drawing he’d gifted to Clem and A.J. on one of their first nights at Ericson. Clementine missed each of them in their own way, but for Violet the pain must be so much deeper. To lose those she’d survived alongside for eight years… Clementine didn’t have anyone who’d stuck by her side that long, not even A.J. There was no way to address the pain of such loss in any way that could help, so instead she sat with Violet in silence and stillness, dwelling in the grief of all that had come to pass.

“Well, you two sure don’t look happy,” They were shaken from their thoughts by Louis’ voice as he made his way over to them. He grinned at the two girls, standing in front of the table with his hands proudly tugging his lapels. “I see you’re butchering my rabbit there. Impressive, isn’t he? The biggest one we’ve caught all season!”

“Is that why you’re over here, Louis?” Violet glared at him. “To boast about your hunting while we’ve been stuck on our asses all day?”

“Actually, your asses are exactly why I’m over here,” Louis quickly raised a finger. “And before you say anything, yes, I just realized how bad that sounds. What I was thinking was that a brisk walk about the courtyard might be exactly what both of you need to turn those frowns upside down!”

“Ok then,” Clementine said with a casual shrug. “I only have my crutches outside right now…”

“A.J. ran inside to grab your prosthetic. We’ll be off on our stroll momentarily!”

“I’m out,” Violet declared.

“Participation is mandatory,”

Violet grumbled incoherently but stayed put.

---

It certainly took longer than momentarily for the prosthetic to be retrieved, attached, and for both girls to maneuver safely into position, each taking one of Louis’ arms. Eventually they were off though, traveling round the yard at what Louis described as a “leisurely” pace as Clementine struggled with each and every step she took. The prosthetic had been improved with each iteration Willy put forth over these last few months, but she was still figuring out how to balance properly on it without each forward motion throwing off her center of balance. Her friends were patient with her though, neither seeming put off at all by the agonizing crawl that was their speed.

“What a perfect evening,” Louis said with a grin. “The warm breeze wafting through the trees as I take a stroll with my two best girls,”

Violet snorted. “Lou, if you ever refer to me as ‘your girl’ again, I will sneak into your room in the middle of the night and strangle you in your sleep,”

“Noted. So, Clem, anything exciting happen today?”

“Actually, yes. James dropped by,”

“Really? In his full getup and everything?”

“He took the mask off before coming inside. He wanted to let us know that he’s planning on filling up the barn again. He also said he’d drop off the salt lick soon. Apparently A.J. mentioned it to Omar and Omar got the message out to James that he wanted it if James didn’t need it. Omar says it’ll be a game-changer when it comes to food,”

“Well, I certainly have no reason to doubt the words of our all-knowing chef. You excited for a change in food, Vi?”

“It’ll still be stew every night, just like it’s always been. I can’t imagine a salt block will make that much of a difference,”

Louis shrugged. “Time will tell, I suppose. Clem, how you holding up? Need to take a rest?”

“No, I can go a few more minutes,” Clementine tried to mask the hitch in her breathing as Louis eyed her worriedly. “I want to increase my endurance,”

“Alright, but if I see you slipping, I’m carrying you princess style the rest of the night and there’s nothing you can do about it,”

“Fine, it’s a deal,”

They continued their path around the yard, pausing by the greenhouse to greet Ruby as she came through with an armful of fresh herbs. A.J. ran over too, insisting that he should help Clem too. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, leaning on it ever so slightly as they circled back toward the picnic benches. Violet was steady for the most part, the occasional slipup coming from the rough terrain underfoot. But for the most part Louis kept his eye out for potential pitfalls, gently guiding her out of the way, chatting all the while to distract both girls from the toll the stroll took on their bodies.

Finally they made it all the way around the yard. Clementine and Violet sat down with appreciative groans, Louis and A.J. grabbing their bowls to fill up before they got their own food. Clementine looked over at Violet. The peevish frown that had stayed on her face all throughout dinner prep was gone, replaced by a small, contented smile. It always warmed Clem’s heart when she caught Violet smiling. “Good day after all?” she asked good-naturedly.

Violet seemed surprised at the question for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Good day,”

#twdgs4 #twdg #fanfic #twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #clouis #recovery

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two-us-two-ks · 5 years

Text

NHL season 19-20 Tarot predictions 5/5

These are my Tarot predictions for the coming 2019-2020 NHL season. I used my trusty Mary-El deck made by Marie White.

A few notes before the main thing:

- Take these predictions with a grain of salt – or don’t. It’s up to you. I personally believe in this until proven otherwise, but you have your own free will

- I have tried my best to be as objective as I can. That’s why I first wrote down numbers from 1 to 31, then drew the cards, then added the team names

- These cards were picked on 19th of August and I’ve been trying not to read too much news to prevent them affecting my reading

- I have used reversed cards, that’s just how I do things

- I picked the cards fully randomly from the deck. The amount of reversed cards one right after the other surprised me as well

- This is my personal way of reading the cards. What I’ve written may differ from your way of reading them. That’s ok. We’re individuals

- The cursive notes are attempts at gathering the basic gist of what I’m trying to say – or vibes, or anything else I deemed important or noteworthy

25 St. Louis Blues - Page of Cups R / Five of Wands

I swear I didn't intend to pick two cards. Sometimes it just happens. It's not unheard of. And the results are always interesting.

Page of Cups is the initiator of heart. In reverse, it warns about projecting negativity around oneself, lack of responsibility in one's actions, judgment, or self sabotage. Five of Wands, however, is the card of perseverance, unrelenting and conquering. It encourages one to trust themselves and reminds them that they have all the skills to succeed

Sometimes two cards can be interpreted as one, their meanings intertwined and feeding on each others' energies. In this case I feel like this is a matter of choice. This team won the Stanley Cup. What they do with themselves now is fully up to them.

26 Tampa Bay Lightning - Eight of Wands R

Eight of Wands is a mirror, showing us our true potential. It also reminds us to recognize both good and evil within ourselves, as well as mortality of our body and immortality of our soul. In reverse, it indicates lack of trust and patience, and warns us of complications or disputes. This card depicts a fiery red lion, one of his front paws actually being a human hand, holding a sleeping girl. The girl is covered with a cloth reminiscent of a night sky. She is surrounded by phoenix-like feathers and a snake slithered into the shape of the infinity symbol

All these symbols of infinity and immortality, and still there is something blocking the way. Perhaps a communication issue.

27 Toronto Maple Leafs - Judgement R

Judgment is the card of destiny fulfilled, end of the journey. It offers the opportunity for redemption and rebirth. In reverse, it points out possible bad judgment and over-cautiousness or clouded vision. This card is a depiction of a phoenix reborn. There are barely any other colors than hues of red, as the bird rises from its nest of burnt spice, in its full furious glory

The first thing out of my mouth when I saw this card: “WHOA!”. They don’t want to misdirect this fire, that’s all I’m saying.

28 Vancouver Canucks - Nine of Swords R

Nine of Swords is a doorway between mundane and divine, life and afterlife, earthly and spiritual. And, as a doorway, it is a place where one can see both sides. There is no just one or the other; they both exist at the same time in different sides. In reverse, this card indicates inability to see the both sides of the world. It may also symbolize reasonable and well placed doubt and distrust, or an end that plants the seed for a new beginning. Because just like there isn't just one side to the world, the end is not always as final as we seem to think

There is schism inside the organization somewhere, and not without a reason. This is however a great opportunity learn from it and grow better, stronger.

29 Vegas Golden Knights - The Chariot

The Chariot is an energetic card. It indicates movement, direction, action, intent. It speaks of overcoming one's obstacles and triumphing after a war. Yet there lies a risk: one must balance and control their momentum, or The Chariot will topple. Steering it, just like steering one's intentions and actions, is all about skill. This card depicts a woman with a mane of wolf fur, and there are four wolves standing in front of her. This symbolizes both intent, since wolves are very methodical in their hunt, and strength in numbers. One can ride a chariot with just one horse, but two or more are able to share the burden

The Chariot is in line with The Sun, The Empress, and the like. A huge momentum. The wolf theme in this card brings me back to the Game of Thrones (I know, bear with me) and the quote: “the lone wolf dies but the pack survives”. It doesn’t differ that much from a hockey team.

30 Washington Capitals - Five of Cups R

Five of Cups is a card of both love and pain. There is always a risk of getting hurt when caring for another person. In reverse, this card may mean heartache, loss, or wounds that will not heal

I'll be honest: I should have written these readings down right away. There is no way certain news won't affect my judgment at this point, whether I want it or not. We all know what I'm talking about here, and I truly hope that it's the only thing and there won't be anything else in the horizon. Take this as it is: a warning that sometimes love will cut us and leave deep, deep wounds.

31 Winnipeg Jets - King of Wands R

King of Wands is the master of soul, creativity, energy and passion. He illuminates his surroundings to reveal wrongful deeds. In reverse, his energies overflow and he becomes self-righteous, entitled, arrogant. A knight in a shining armor with a hero complex. We have all seen it happening, and no one appreciates it. There is a fine line between helping the others see what lurks in the shadows and walking them through the world like a helpless child. Helping others is a noble thing, but only when needed and asked for

This came out way more spot on than I intended. I’ll blame the wine.

#witchy stuff #tarot #hockey #St. Louis Blues #Tampa Bay Lightning #Toronto Maple Leafs #Vancouver Canucks #Vegas Golden Knights #Washington Capitals #Winnipeg Jets

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kvetchlandia · 7 years

Photo

Dave Heath Poets Leroi Jones and Allen Ginsberg, 7 Arts Coffee Gallery, New York City 1959

Lately, I've become accustomed to the way The ground opens up and envelopes me Each time I go out to walk the dog. Or the broad edged silly music the wind Makes when I run for a bus...

Things have come to that.

And now, each night I count the stars. And each night I get the same number. And when they will not come to be counted, I count the holes they leave.

Nobody sings anymore.

And then last night I tiptoed up To my daughter's room and heard her Talking to someone, and when I opened The door, there was no one there... Only she on her knees, peeking into

Her own clasped hands

--Leroi Jones, “Preface to a 20 Volume Suicide Note” 1961

For Naomi Ginsberg, 1894-1956

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich Village. downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I've been up all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud, listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phonograph the rhythm the rhythm--and your memory in my head three years after-- And read Adonais' last triumphant stanzas aloud--wept, realizing how we suffer-- And how Death is that remedy all singers dream of, sing, remember, prophesy as in the Hebrew Anthem, or the Buddhist Book of An- swers--and my own imagination of a withered leaf--at dawn-- Dreaming back thru life, Your time--and mine accelerating toward Apoca- lypse, the final moment--the flower burning in the Day--and what comes after, looking back on the mind itself that saw an American city a flash away, and the great dream of Me or China, or you and a phantom Russia, or a crumpled bed that never existed-- like a poem in the dark--escaped back to Oblivion-- No more to say, and nothing to weep for but the Beings in the Dream, trapped in its disappearance, sighing, screaming with it, buying and selling pieces of phantom, worship- ping each other, worshipping the God included in it all--longing or inevitability?--while it lasts, a Vision--anything more? It leaps about me, as I go out and walk the street, look back over my shoulder, Seventh Avenue, the battlements of window office buildings shoul- dering each other high, under a cloud, tall as the sky an instant--and the sky above--an old blue place. or down the Avenue to the south, to--as I walk toward the Lower East Side --where you walked 50 years ago, little girl--from Russia, eating the first poisonous tomatoes of America frightened on the dock then struggling in the crowds of Orchard Street toward what?--toward Newark-- toward candy store, first home-made sodas of the century, hand-churned ice cream in backroom on musty brownfloor boards-- Toward education marriage nervous breakdown, operation, teaching school, and learning to be mad, in a dream--what is this life? Toward the Key in the window--and the great Key lays its head of light on top of Manhattan, and over the floor, and lays down on the sidewalk--in a single vast beam, moving, as I walk down First toward the Yiddish Theater--and the place of poverty you knew, and I know, but without caring now--Strange to have moved thru Paterson, and the West, and Europe and here again, with the cries of Spaniards now in the doorstops doors and dark boys on the street, firs escapes old as you --Tho you're not old now, that's left here with me-- Myself, anyhow, maybe as old as the universe--and I guess that dies with us--enough to cancel all that comes--What came is gone forever every time-- That's good! That leaves it open for no regret--no fear radiators, lacklove, torture even toothache in the end-- Though while it comes it is a lion that eats the soul--and the lamb, the soul, in us, alas, offering itself in sacrifice to change's fierce hunger--hair and teeth--and the roar of bonepain, skull bare, break rib, rot-skin, braintricked Implacability. Ai! ai! we do worse! We are in a fix! And you're out, Death let you out, Death had the Mercy, you're done with your century, done with God, done with the path thru it--Done with yourself at last--Pure --Back to the Babe dark before your Father, before us all--before the world-- There, rest. No more suffering for you. I know where you've gone, it's good. No more flowers in the summer fields of New York, no joy now, no more fear of Louis, and no more of his sweetness and glasses, his high school decades, debts, loves, frightened telephone calls, conception beds, relatives, hands-- No more of sister Elanor,--she gone before you--we kept it secret you killed her--or she killed herself to bear with you--an arthritic heart --But Death's killed you both--No matter-- Nor your memory of your mother, 1915 tears in silent movies weeks and weeks--forgetting, agrieve watching Marie Dressler address human- ity, Chaplin dance in youth, or Boris Godunov, Chaliapin's at the Met, halling his voice of a weeping Czar --by standing room with Elanor & Max--watching also the Capital ists take seats in Orchestra, white furs, diamonds, with the YPSL's hitch-hiking thru Pennsylvania, in black baggy gym skirts pants, photograph of 4 girls holding each other round the waste, and laughing eye, too coy, virginal solitude of 1920 all girls grown old, or dead now, and that long hair in the grave--lucky to have husbands later-- You made it--I came too--Eugene my brother before (still grieving now and will gream on to his last stiff hand, as he goes thru his cancer--or kill --later perhaps--soon he will think--) And it's the last moment I remember, which I see them all, thru myself, now --tho not you I didn't foresee what you felt--what more hideous gape of bad mouth came first--to you--and were you prepared? To go where? In that Dark--that--in that God? a radiance? A Lord in the Void? Like an eye in the black cloud in a dream? Adonoi at last, with you? Beyond my remembrance! Incapable to guess! Not merely the yellow skull in the grave, or a box of worm dust, and a stained ribbon--Deaths- head with Halo? can you believe it? Is it only the sun that shines once for the mind, only the flash of existence, than none ever was? Nothing beyond what we have--what you had--that so pitiful--yet Tri- umph, to have been here, and changed, like a tree, broken, or flower--fed to the ground--but made, with its petals, colored, thinking Great Universe, shaken, cut in the head, leaf stript, hid in an egg crate hospital, cloth wrapped, sore--freaked in the moon brain, Naughtless. No flower like that flower, which knew itself in the garden, and fought the knife--lost Cut down by an idiot Snowman's icy--even in the Spring--strange ghost thought some--Death--Sharp icicle in his hand--crowned with old roses--a dog for his eyes--cock of a sweatshop--heart of electric irons. All the accumulations of life, that wear us out--clocks, bodies, consciousness, shoes, breasts--begotten sons--your Communism--'Paranoia' into hospitals. You once kicked Elanor in the leg, she died of heart failure later. You of stroke. Asleep? within a year, the two of you, sisters in death. Is Elanor happy? Max grieves alive in an office on Lower Broadway, lone large mustache over midnight Accountings, not sure. His life passes--as he sees--and what does he doubt now? Still dream of making money, or that might have made money, hired nurse, had children, found even your Im- mortality, Naomi? I'll see him soon. Now I've got to cut through to talk to you as I didn't when you had a mouth. Forever. And we're bound for that, Forever like Emily Dickinson's horses --headed to the End. They know the way--These Steeds--run faster than we think--it's our own life they cross--and take with them.

Magnificent, mourned no more, marred of heart, mind behind, mar- ried dreamed, mortal changed--Ass and face done with murder. In the world, given, flower maddened, made no Utopia, shut under pine, almed in Earth, blamed in Lone, Jehovah, accept. Nameless, One Faced, Forever beyond me, beginningless, endless, Father in death. Tho I am not there for this Prophecy, I am unmarried, I'm hymnless, I'm Heavenless, headless in blisshood I would still adore Thee, Heaven, after Death, only One blessed in Nothingness, not light or darkness, Dayless Eternity-- Take this, this Psalm, from me, burst from my hand in a day, some of my Time, now given to Nothing--to praise Thee--But Death This is the end, the redemption from Wilderness, way for the Won- derer, House sought for All, black handkerchief washed clean by weeping --page beyond Psalm--Last change of mine and Naomi--to God's perfect Darkness--Death, stay thy phantoms!

--Allen Ginsberg, “Kaddish, Pt. 1″ 1961

63 notes · View notes

logoff · 7 years

Text

or BETTY or IT’S VERY THAT

Mark McQueen

It rained, when we really needed clarity;

he reached in – called no foul, for fags

pass the biscuits; I have no time

bad breath Betty bets on sour horses –

she embroiders shoes and Russian hats for hackers

working hard for bum and bob and bop apartment showings

restless youth sucking pacifiers & bank accounts week to week

under bridges & aquarium fantasies where “the artists” live and –

babies wrapped in sweet knitting and plastic packaging (?)

his hair was so so so so long

I haven’t the slightest imagination – can you see?

by the dawn’s early nightshade, steeping in droopy kettles

green-eyed sweetness, the perfect warmth on my neck –

peeking in iridescent morning apple cider pajama parties –

wild percussion, pouring wine and filing w2 forms

orange boot – tin can chip off the old lab;

pick your friends and nose, your boundaries

where Maria, mother of Pancho, stares with jaundice eyes

over green benches and hills tied in brown paper brigades;

cinnamon toast rape scene on nauseaous ferries to poverty-stricken

mouthfuls of doleful insolence, spread like jelly on the table

America asked the world to hold its beer –

let go of your silver sets of forks and knives

thrown off cliffs like hardware circuit magicians

calling calypso and caterpillars on Obama phones;

anything can be funny in a certain light –

place your trash directly into my recepticle

under mossy bridges on Mississippi rainstorm back roads

where security cameras blaze thru constitutional barbwire

dock the ferry and unwrap every present two times

West 4th is the center of the unviverse;

tapping water bags into brown spotted wheel pillars

no, carnitas is fine – apologizing for polka dots

and running up hills w/ pink turrets and blood stains

IN A WORLD where palm trees kiss my cheek

God only knows what I’m putting in my lungs – cinematic

parlor shop shots of tequila & robitussen; priced correctly

according to remote factory island bombast nunneries –

smoke & **glitter** line the fragmented edges of my lungs

I have no weapons in my house for a unicorn;

squeezing out of the snakeskin tea; blood dripping

red-eyed obscurity, smathered jelly on my glasses –

rain-spotted; whales in timewarp smoke signals

hoops falling in a vortex of DNA & cocktails

elderflower whispers in a rusty steel tube adolescence

opening windows to the desert in the nighttime; boundless

transfer on the upper avenue — Nostrand capitalists

wiping tissues between words bound in Euro- trash

to feel eyes on you, under limousines & flutes of champagne

F train blues dripping below orange skies screaming

a warm vanilla spritz on white-washed resilience

boring Betty writes postcards for tumblr girls (in a)

New Mexico sunset dream; please hold my heart

mint flowers binding muscle to steel bone dry vermouth –

blood on my lip, ink in my ear – opulent

silver boots pounding holes in the mud bath & beyond

Absurdity is the only religion I comprehend;

rich fluff in oily pits of hellfire and Wall Street

don’t test the bubbles – let me punctificate

topaz faggot & the 5-head beard; an essay

look at hoops locking all the windows – suspicious

Russians spitting nails in cedar brain buckets

hundreds of vibrant sacks filled w/ complaints

Hollywood lens blue on your faded denim eyes

Los Angeles sherriff, blaaazed and fucking vigilant

dancing on fire escapes above peasants & their teeth

breaking patterns w/ dandelion wine jars upon rocks upon mistletoe

penetrating vicoden bottles with unabashed precision –

I throw up my grievances but the saints just stare;

a toast to the horse who toasted the party monsters

bloodshot Betty jingled her keys to the chime of beer bottles

lifting blinds wearing letterman serendipity – I digress

pill box apple pie legislation; shouting

log off – no one is right when they’re tired or hungry

glamour spoke, and I always listened (even while praying)

pink hat shoveling bullshit out of hollow guitars –

snowed-in mouse hole broken drip Lamar

missing beats and broadcasts over radio nightmares

Zombies plan the day before; I am no Jane Austen

drink the vinyl grooves like holy nut

forbidden rooster cock-a-doodling til 4am smokes

zero to antichrist in Versace – to the gala

antidepressant Visa; bad luck Betty wasn’t nagging

transitioning from talent to turquoise & truffle

dye your innocence a fresh shade of Louis Vuitton;

(be)dazzled M&M’s w/ cocaine on the key to swastikas

in the mortar under my boots & saddle

paint dries in erroneously bold washout circles

fur under my feet w/ violin tracks in the bazaar

bleaching glass table tops with matchbox chef pants

sing the praises over holy midnight bath salts

in soapy paint-dried wounds – I don’t care

when squids ink blot; power vacuum minefields

hotel soap behind the rancher’s ears; silver

Parisian trains gliding from commune to shopping mall

lawn guy land; stapling porcelain to ash

jailing cherubs in glamour – good thing for podcasts

glittering knives marking long distance calls to Amsterdam;

the buffalo stampede on the lion even still –

1 note · View note

daddyslittlejuliet · 6 years

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12 Animal Activism Stories That Made Headlines in 2017

When I look back on this year’s wins for animals, what I am most struck by is a genuine sense of accomplishment. Yes, we have a long, long way to go. But from the skyrocketing popularity of veganism to the bans on various forms of animal cruelty, 2017 has been a year of encouraging news. Here’s a look at some of the top stories.

1. Croatia bans fur farms (January)

The year got off to a great start with Croatia’s prohibition on fur farms going into effect on January 1. The ban—which comes 10 years after the introduction of the 2006 Animal Protection Act—applies to the few remaining chinchilla farms and was the result of both activists and the general public speaking out against this cruel industry. Indeed, more and more countries have or are considering legislation to ban fur farming, including Austria, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Germany, the Netherlands, and Norway.

2. Germany bans meat at official functions (January)

Hoping to lead by example, Germany’s Federal Minister for the Environment Barbara Hendricks banned animal flesh from being consumed at all official government functions. “We want to set a good example for climate protection, because vegetarian food is more climate-friendly than meat and fish,” she said. Animal agriculture has been linked not only to climate change (accounting for nearly 20 percent of global greenhouse gas emissions), but to species extinction, ocean dead zones, water pollution, deforestation, soil degradation, and habitat destruction.

3. Guatemala passes powerful anti-animal-cruelty legislation (March)

In what was hailed as a milestone for animals, Guatemala adopted one of the world’s most comprehensive anti-cruelty laws—legislation includes protections for animals used in research and circuses, wildlife, and companion animals. It also establishes bans on animal testing for cosmetics and on dogfighting and sets penalties for spectators of this blood “sport.”

4. Judge dismisses charges against activist Anita Krajnc, who gave water to thirsty pigs (May)

Anita Krajnc gives water to pigs in Toronto. Photo by Elli Garlin

When activist Anita Krajnc ignored a truck driver’s demand that she cease giving water to the thirsty pigs he was driving to an Ontario slaughterhouse as he was stopped at a red light in June 2015, she was not only charged with criminal mischief, but video of the confrontation was shared around the world. Anita’s case quickly became a flashpoint of debate, with her defense team famously contending that “compassion is not a crime.”

Though the judge did not necessarily agree with the argument that pigs are persons, not property, he cleared Anita of the charges, which carried potential jail time and a hefty fine. “I think one should always follow their conscience,” she told me days after the judge dismissed the case. “You feel good knowing that what you did was right. You can’t control what other people do, but you can control what you do. So you have to stand up for what you believe in.” (You’ll find the full interview here.)

5. Ringling Bros. Circus closes (May)

This was one of the biggest stories of the year, and activists had good reason to celebrate. After nearly 150 years of abusing elephants, tigers, lions, horses, and other animals, the self-described “Greatest Show in Earth” finally ended. Officially, Ringling’s owners blamed high operating costs and declining ticket sales. But activists had been campaigning against the company almost since the beginning. (Indeed, in 1918, the Jack London Club, named in honor of the late author and animal advocate, staged walkouts from circus performances, which led to the company eliminating big-cat cage acts in 1925, but Ringling brought them back four years later.)

Unfortunately, Ringling’s demise does not mark the end of circuses with animal acts. To learn what you can do, please visit circusprotest.com.

6. Historic vote bans fur farming in Czech Republic (June)

In a vote of 132 to nine, Czech government officials passed a ban on fur farming this year. “This is a victory which proves that killing animals for fashion’s sake is no longer supported among the Czech politicians,” said Chamber Environment Committee chair Robin Böhnisch. “I hope that our legislators will set an example for their colleagues in other countries where fur farming bans are currently being discussed.”

The ban—which goes into effect January 31, 2019, after passing through the country’s Senate—will require the closing of nine remaining fur farms, which collectively hold some 20,000 foxes and minks captive in small battery cages every year and kill them by anal electrocution or gassing.

7. Activists in China rescue 1,000 dogs and cats from truck headed to slaughterhouses (June)

About 100 Chinese activists took part in this remarkable rescue, stopping a transport truck in Guangzhou, a city known as the largest hub for dog and cat meat consumption in the world. Activists said they were assisted by local police and discovered the truck driver did not have a health certificate for the dogs, which is a legal requirement when transporting animals in China. After a standoff that lasted 10 hours, the animals were released from the tightly packed cages. (While some 10 million dogs are consumed in China every year, let’s remember that billions of cows, chickens, pigs, sheep, and other animals are annually raised and killed for their flesh in the United States.)

8. UK’s Advertising Standards says cow’s milk can be called “inhumane” (July)

As the saying goes, the truth hurts. And truth is just what the UK nonprofit Go Vegan World was speaking when they placed a national newspaper advertisement stating that “humane milk is a myth—don’t buy it” (pictured right). The ad continues with text that reads, “I went vegan the day I visited a dairy. The mothers, still bloody from birth, searched and called frantically for their babies. Their daughters, fresh from their mothers’ wombs but separated from them, trembled and cried piteously, drinking milk from rubber teats on the wall instead of their mothers’ nurturing bodies. All because humans take their milk.”

When dairy farmers complained to the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) that the ad was inaccurate and misleading, the ASA sided with the vegan campaigners and gave it their approval, saying, “Although the language used to express the claims was emotional and hard-hitting, we understood it was the case that calves were generally separated from their mothers very soon after birth, and we therefore concluded that the ad was unlikely to materially mislead readers.”

9. Gucci drops fur (October)

Citing the “deprivation and cruelty suffered by fur-bearing animals,” fashion giant Gucci announced it will end its use of fur, beginning with its spring collection. “Gucci’s decision will radically change the future of fashion,” said Simone Pavesi, manager of animal-free fashion at the Italian animal rights group LAV. “As fashion becomes more and more ethical, supply chains that revolve around animals will be a thing of the past.”

Gucci will join the Fur Free Alliance, an international group of more than 40 organizations that campaigns on animal welfare and promotes alternatives to fur in the fashion industry.

10. California becomes the first state to mandate that dogs, cats, and rabbits sold in pet stores come from shelters (October)

In a move aimed at breaking the puppy mill and kitten factory supply chain, California lawmakers banned pet stores from selling dogs, cats, and rabbits who do not come from animal shelters and rescue organizations. Not only will this help weaken the unscrupulous trade in “pet” breeding, but it will ease overcrowding in shelters throughout the state. The law, which sets an important precedent for the rest of the country, takes effect on January 1, 2019.

11. Ireland bans circuses with “wild” animals (November)

“The use of wild animals for entertainment purposes in circuses can no longer be permitted” in Ireland, said the country’s Minister for Agriculture, Michael Creed. “This is the general view of the public at large and a position I am happy to endorse. This is a progressive move, reflective of our commitment to animal welfare.”

Because other EU nations had established bans on animals in circuses, some campaigners feared Ireland would become a “dumping ground” for animal circuses that had been legislated out of other European countries. The ban begins January 1, 2018.

12. Man rescues rabbit from brush fire (December)

It may seem insignificant in terms of lives saved, but when a California motorist left his vehicle to save a rabbit from a raging brush fire, the video captured by a news crew went viral. As you watch the emotional scene, remember that this is a man who is risking his life to rescue not his beloved companion, but an animal he just happened to see on the side of the road. (As of mid-December, there is some controversy about the identity of the bunny rescuer, but that takes nothing away from this heroic deed.)