We do not stop
To drop a single, crumpled, tattered, unused dollar bill
Into the streetside performer’s hungry tips
For in their scraps, their elegance
We do not see
Refuse to see
Any more than beggars; poor
Noise and nuisance
Inconvenient to the day
So we do not stop and listen
To the well rehearsed movements
How can a value be ascribed
To what can barely be described
We do not stop
To think of hours spent
The minutes, days, the years
Overcoming ridicule and fear
To show something true and near
We pull our phones and record the show
And share with our all friends
Look down
Look down
At the starving, ravenous box for tips
Are they not worth loose change?
Enough to wish to share
To remember
Not enough to pay
What is the value
Of one who seems to lack values
@env0writes C.Buck
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The Enigmatic Art of Circle Show Street Performing:
A Whimsical and Cerebral Exploration Once upon a time, in a land filled with concrete jungles, a peculiar breed of urban alchemists plied their trade, turning the mundane into the magical, and the dull into the dazzling.
These mystic mavericks, known as “circle show” street performers, hold the secrets to mesmerizing the masses, and today, we embark on a journey through the looking glass to…
The first comic to document life as a street performer
Drawn To Key West tells the stories of 14 performers through a series of interviews.
The 200-page story explores, everything there is to know about life as a busker, what it takes to pursue your passions, and what motivates people to create.
Street theater is one of the oldest forms of entertainment and is seen in every culture around the world. Key West, Florida is home to one of the best street performing spots and my goal with the comic is to help showcase a fascinating part of Key West culture, something that I feel truly sets Key West apart from other U.S. tourist destinations.
I also hope to spread awareness and help preserve an art form that I love and respect dearly.
Available in Key West bookstores and on the drawn to key west website
“[…] Which brings me to Poets, and why I am so excited about this album. Of course there’s the obvious things to look forward to: intimate songs about one of the most significant experiences of her life. A return to specificity after some of the more cryptic themes on Midnights. Her description of writing the album: ‘I needed to make it. It was really a lifeline for me.’ […]
But on top of all this, I’m excited because she is finally reclaiming the breakup narrative 12 years later. She’s no longer running from it, no longer bending her work into a different shape or theme to avoid being pigeon-holed as ‘the girl who only writes about breakups.’ Maybe she can see the misogyny in some of this earlier criticism more clearly. Maybe she’s owning the fact that writing songs about love falling apart is just as credible as writing about politics or any other topic that people might deem more ‘serious’. Call me crazy, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Poets is exactly the same length – 65 minutes – as Red, which she has described as ‘her one true breakup album’. Could Poets be the moment that she stands in front of the world and says, This is what I’m good at. I’m not ashamed to say it matters. And if you don’t get that, maybe the joke is on you.”
OKAY OKAY but the way Louis is split in two with both Claudia and Lestat trying to vie for his attention, for his love, but Claudia is able to jump into his mind, to ask him to come with her without Lestat hearing, and that’s the moment Lestat calls him Lou, because he sees him looking towards her and he has no idea what she’s telling him but he knows he’s losing him to her. And how that desperation immediately turns to rage, to blame, to accusation. By turning them both, he’s turned them both against him, he can’t read them, can’t understand them as deeply as they understand each other, and it’s only when Claudia says out loud so he can hear exactly what she wants him to: Come with me. Let’s be vampires worthy of your love. That he truly snaps.
Lestat knows he’s lost. Has known it for all the time Louis had spent searching restlessly for Claudia’s mind.
And the conclusion to this rage, with Lestat and Louis flown out far into the sky, so far away that Lestat hopes no other mind can reach Louis’. So that Claudia can’t hear. So that they’re truly alone. And he finally admits just how deeply his love for Louis reaches, and just how fine a thread he’s been clinging to coming to terms with the fact that perhaps Louis doesn’t love him, may never have loved him, in the way that he loves him.
And yet even in that moment with Louis half drained and gasping the frigid thin air, with Lestat begging him to just admit it, that he doesn’t love him, Louis... doesn’t. Instead he says let go of me. And I wonder, perhaps, what Lestat hears in that, what those words connote for him. Is Louis only asking to be put down, or is he asking Lestat to let go of this obsession with him? That change in Lestat’s eyes, the bitterness of not getting a solid answer but still coming to some sort of conclusion sells it for him. So, when he drops Louis, it’s as performative as any other gesture.
He may want Louis to feel that he is done with him, but that will never be true.
Every December thousands of Rat Kings are unjustly murdered by toy soldiers due to human intervention. That's why this holiday season I'm partnering with Smith and Wesson.
For the low low price of $300 YOU can give a rat a gun.
from the album Christopher Lee sings Devils, Rogues & other Villains: from Broadway to Bayreuth and beyond (1996)
Christopher Lee - Epiphany from Sweeney Todd
I had him!
His throat was there beneath my hand.
No, I had him!
His throat was there and now he'll never come again.
When? Why did I wait?
You told me to wait —
Now he'll never come again.
There's a hole in the world like a great black pit
And it's filled with people who are filled with shit
And the vermin of the world inhabit it.
But not for long…
They all deserve to die.
Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
Because in all of the whole human race
Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of men and only two
There's the one staying put in his proper place
And the one with his foot in the other one's face
Look at me, Mrs Lovett, look at you.
No, we all deserve to die
Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I.
Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
For the rest of us death will be a relief
We all deserve to die.
And I'll never see Johanna
No I'll never hug my girl to me — finished!
Alright! You sir, how about a shave?
Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.
You sir, too sir? Welcome to the grave.
I will have vengeance.
I will have salvation.
Who sir, you sir?
No ones in the chair, Come on! Come on!
Sweeney's. waiting. I want you bleeders.
You sir! Anybody!
Gentlemen now don't be shy!
Not one man, no, nor ten men.
Nor a hundred can assuage me.
I will have you!
And I will get him back even as he gloats
In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats.
And my Lucy lies in ashes
And I'll never see my girl again.
But the work waits!
I'm alive at last!
And I'm full of joy!
"Guess who has returned with sweets~?" Nikolai shouted as he came barging into his home with a brown paper bag in his arms.
"Pa--pa!" Joel rushed forward to hug Nikolai around the waist. Dazai wasn't home yet, but the kids were sitting at the table with Fyodor working on their homework.
Kotori jumped out of her chair and came over next. "What kinda sweets, Papa?" She asked, eyes lit up.
god, i'm just over here having EMOTIONS about ai di when we see him fresh out of prison and how so much of how we see him before and after that is all about this aposematic presentation in all of his bright colors and vicious temper and unbridled threats. and when we take all of that away, he's just...a kid. a kid who grew up too fast and who never knew kindness and just tried to bury his loneliness under layers and layers of violence and anger.
look at him!! look at him!!!! every time we see him in the context of prison scenes, he looks like hell. he's pale and tiny and he can't maintain his bravado. when he's on the phone with chen yi, his eyes are all swollen and the dark circles underneath them are like bruises. there's no heart or bite to his rejection; he's just going through the motions like a shadow of himself. and here, he's trying to be so fucking neutral, so cold and apathetic and like they both don't know he's spent four years trying to rip his own heart out of his body to forget the only person he's ever truly loved and who could (does!) love him in return.
and a moment i always miss is that when chen yi brings him back to the shop and ai di gets out of the car, xiao jie is beaming brightly to welcome him home, and ai di cannot meet his eyes. he sort of flicks his gaze around the other gang members and focuses on a spot beyond them, and he glances at xiao jie, but he can't sustain eye contact -- almost like he's ashamed. the only person he can actually look at is chen yi, and he has this wistful look for half a second before his mouth twists in that determined, dissatisfied way he always gets. (he does it when he's checking chen yi's injuries in episode 12, too -- a sort of bitter resignation about doing what needs to be done.)
they're greeting him like he's still ai di, but he doesn't feel like ai di, because prison stripped him of all his defenses and he's trying to shield himself with the insufficient tatters of his dignity. he's been humbled and broken and now chen yi's brought him to be displayed in front of everybody without letting him re-collect himself in the way he needs to present himself. he doesn't want to be perceived as what he is -- a scared, lonely, miserable kid who just went through something truly horrific.
really, it's one of chen yi's worst mistakes. he does deserve answers, and he does know that ai di will run from honesty. it makes sense that he'd take the approach of cornering him first. but there's cornering him, and there's cornering him when he's in such a raw, vulnerable state, and it just compounded so many existing problems. ai di doesn't want to be faced with his own vulnerability, let alone have someone else see it, let alone have that paraded in front of half of yiyun meng.
it hurts, man. they're talking at each other, past each other, around each other -- but never to. years and years of unhealed hurts and misinterpreted conversations and just a fundamental terror of being true to themselves and their own needs and wants. and there's something so agonizingly poetic about chen yi seeing him honestly and clearly, in the light of day, at the prison gates, because he has seen ai di build up his armor over years and watched the same kid who was so close to him when they were young drift apart. he's still there, but inaccessible. and he's still inaccessible at the prison, too -- in too much pain to allow himself the risk of taking on more -- but this is the closest thing to the ai di he knew. no bullshit, no smoke and mirrors, no flashy tricks to warn off enemies. he is just a person, fragile and human and fallible, and for all the gimmicks he keeps trying to employ to shove chen yi away, he is at the most honest point he could possibly be.