pathologic but it's a lost 1920s german expressionist film [id under cut]
[id:
image 1: a digital drawing of a fake poster, using bright colours and rough, painterly brushstrokes. the title, 'pest' (german for 'plague'), is written at the top in spiky black text. in the foreground a man dressed as a tragedian is staring intently at the viewer, his hands raised and splayed as if in horror. in the background, the town is framed against a red sky, with the polyhedron in yellow behind.
images 2 and 3: fake casting sheets for the film, with the names of the actors and the characters they are playing above a black-and-white portrait photograph of them. all the text is in german. in english it reads:
'Pest', a film by Robert Wiene
Alfred Abel as Victor Kain
Ernst Busch as Grief
Lil Dagover as Katerina Saburova
Ernst Deutsch as the Bachelor
Carl de Vogt as Vlad the Younger
Marlene Dietrich as the Inquisitor
Willy Fritsch as Mark Immortell
Alexander Granach as Andrey and Peter Stamatin
Bernhard Goetzke as General Block
Dolly Haas as the Changeling
Ludwig Hartau as the Haruspex
Brigitte Helm as Anna Angel
Brigitte Horney as Maria Kaina
Emil Jannings as Big Vlad
Gerda Maurus as Yulia Lyuricheva
Lothar Menhert as Georgiy Kain
Asta Nielsen as Lara Ravel
Ossi Oswalda as Eva Yan
Fritz Rasp as Stanislas Rubin
Conrad Veidt as Alexander Saburov and Tragedian
Paul Wegener as Oyun
Gertrud Welcker as Aspity
image 4: four digital sketches of set designs for various locations. all are strongly influenced by expressionist imagery, using extreme angles, warped perspective, and dramatic shapes. they are labelled 'street 1' (a street lined with houses), 'street 2' (a square with a lamppost and a set of steps), 'polyhedron exterior' (the polyhedron walkway), and 'cathedral interior' (the dais at the far end of the cathedral).
image 5: four digital drawings in a black-and-white watercolour style, showing fake stills from the film. all are similarly distorted and lit by dramatic lighting. the first shows katerina's bedroom, with katerina standing in the centre of the floor. the second shows the interior of an infected house. the third shows daniil staring out of the frame in horror, one hand on his head and the other raised as if to ward something off. the fourth shows an intertitle with jagged white text reading 'the first day' against a dark background.
I watched the Granada Holmes Hound of the Baskervilles and this is my explanation (and defense ?) of Holmes just absolutely horrible looking stew.
[ID: a digital drawing of Sherlock Holmes. He's walking across a moor with his hands behind his back, holding a letter. A thought bubble above him reads "I forgot my damn stew by the fire." /End ID]
scotland is such a delightful place to be as an eccentric extrovert because this country is full of those. just crawling with people happy to take time out of their day to tell you the strangest thing that ever happened to them on a moments notice. they don't make them like this on the main land
meta knight is the character ever. he got to wish for literally anything he wanted and he wished to fight against the strongest warrior in the galaxy, he has zero communication skills, he didn't like how everyone lazes around all day so he decided to overthrow the government and failed, his ship has his face plastered on the front for no reason, he decided to go down with said ship, he has a strict moral code but is willing to throw hands with an 8 year with no hesitation, he keeps getting his ass kicked by said 8 year old, he has a sweet tooth and feels the need to hide it even though literally everyone around him loves sweets. he's punched jk rowling in the face
6 - Freitagabend by AnnenMayKantereit
(always a bit selfconcious about german songs)
In der Innenstadt
fahren junge Männer
Autos, die ihnen nicht gehören
(...)
Irgendwo im Gewerbegebiet,
da wo sich alle Berauschen
Fragen meine Freunde Fremde –
",Kannst du mir Was verkaufen?"
Translation:
In the city
young men are driving
cars, that do not belong to them
(...)
Somewhere in the commercial area
where everyone gets high
my friends are asking strangers
"Can you sell something to me?"
this song is southlanders coded to me - especially them stealing scars horse and also them getting sold crystals
So another flammkuchen goes into the oven. ...This one was on the simple side, as we were using up some bacon lardons that were unsmoked, and not quite as nice as the smoked ones.
@petermorwood grabbed a few seconds of video just before we pulled it out of the oven. (It takes about ten minutes' baking time.)
...And the after pic:
So that's lunch handled. (Yeah, at 5 PM my time, it's been an editing day with some digital image work shoved in between...)
ETA: I have a video in prep on how to make this, from scratch. Bear with me.
Einerseits ist es wirklich herzerwärmend wenn irgendwelche älteren queeren Leute mich aufspüren wie Bluthunde um ihre kleinen "Du bist wirklich nicht alleine" Gespräche mit mir zu führen. Never fails to make my week. Aber holy shit ist es denn so offensichtlich? Hat mir jemand ne pride flag auf den Rücken geklebt?? Sind es die Schuhe??? Bruder why
I'm half asleep when I get up from my bed, and sit down next to my ten-year-old self.
"You're an adult. You're not like me." They say.
"I'm still you." I reply with a sadness I wasn't prepared for. "I'm still just like you."
"No," they insist, "you're an authority. An other. Something I don't understand. I don't see myself in you."
"But I see myself in you." I'm desperate, and I don't know why.
"How?"
"You know about infinity, right?" I already know the answer, but I ask anyway.
"Yeah." They look up at me from the scribbles of Pokemon in a math notebook, from the stuffed animals arranged in a town made of blankets. I don't see the life in them anymore, but I remember what it was like to.
"The universe is infinite."
I pick up a stuffed animal. I still have this one, it now sits on a shelf untouched for years. The fabric is still just as soft, just as loved.
"So adults might know more." I say with conviction, surprised it's my own. "But we all carry the same amount of unknowing. We're all just as lost."
My ten-year-old eyes stare at me. I stare back.
"Why is this important to you?" They ask.
"I don't know." I answer truthfully.
"Maybe I'm just still scared of being left behind."