Last Seen Blogs
darkangel-1
darkangel
playboi504
music producer
beaboutitpress
BE ABOUT IT [press/ zine / reading series]
Text
In the fall of 1972 Bundy was hired by the King County Law and Justice Planning Commission to design a program for cracking down on habitual criminals. Here, Bundy wrote a pamphlet on rape.
“A number of rape offenders do not seem to be ‘sick people,’ but the individuals who believe that they can exert their will over other with impunity… it is important to make offenders aware that they have a high probability of being caught for this crime, and if found guilty that the offense will be treated as a serious one.”
(Rolling Stone, 1978)
337 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the Gunpowder Treason and Plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot... But what of the man? I know his name was Guy Fawkes and I know, in 1605, he attempted to blow up the Houses of Parliament. But who was he really? What was he like? We are told to remember the idea, not the man, because a man can fail. He can be caught, he can be killed and forgotten, but 400 years later, an idea can still change the world. I've witnessed first hand the power of ideas, I've seen people kill in the name of them, and die defending them... but you cannot kiss an idea, cannot touch it, or hold it... ideas do not bleed, they do not feel pain, they do not love... And it is not an idea that I miss, it is a man... A man that made me remember the Fifth of November. A man that I will never forget.
0 notes
Photo
So this is my second piece I’ve ever done on my Wacom tablet, so I’m still learning how to actually do things digitally.
The last one was just for whatever, I’m not sure if it actually works or not. A few people think it does but I’m really unsure.
Happy [late] Bonfire night!
96 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Let's go!
0 notes
Video
Someone is mad. Guy fires automatic gunfire at a house! In the Netherlands in the town of Enschede multiple shots were fired at a home. There are around 15 bullet holes in the wall, and 15 true the window. Prob drugs conflict.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
It Is Time To Resist
V: Good evening, America.
Allow me first to apologize for this interruption. I do, like many of you, appreciate the comforts of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, the tranquility of repetition, the totality of television. I enjoy them as much as any bloke.
But in the spirit of commemoration, where upon important events of the past, usually associated with someone’s death or the end of some awful bloody struggle, are celebrated with a nice holiday, I thought we could mark this November the 5th, a day that is sadly no longer remembered, by taking some time out of our daily lives to sit down and have a little chat. There are, of course, those who do not want us to speak. I suspect even now, orders are being shouted into telephones, and men with guns will soon be on their way.
Why?
Because while the truncheon may be used in lieu of conversation, words will always retain their power. Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth. And the truth is, there is something terribly wrong with this country, isn’t there? Cruelty and injustice, intolerance and oppression. And where once you had the freedom to object, to think and speak as you saw fit, you now have censors and systems of surveillance coercing your conformity and soliciting your submission. How did this happen? Who’s to blame? Well, certainly, there are those who are more responsible than others, and they will be held accountable.
But again, truth be told, if you’re looking for the guilty, you need only look into a mirror. I know why you did it. I know you were afraid. Who wouldn’t be? War, terror, disease. They were a myriad of problems which conspired to corrupt your reason and rob you of your common sense. Fear got the best of you, and in your panic, you turned to the now president, Donald Trump. He promised you order, he promised you peace, and all he demanded in return was your silent, obedient consent. This November 5th, I seek to end that silence.
More than four hundred years ago, a great citizen wished to embed the fifth of November forever in our memory. His hope was to remind the world that fairness, justice, and freedom are more than words; they are perspectives. So if you’ve seen nothing, if the crimes of this government remain unknown to you, then I would suggest that you allow the fifth of November to pass unmarked.
But if you see what I see, if you feel as I feel, and if you would seek as I seek, then I ask you to stand beside me, in one month’s time, outside the gates of the White House, and together we shall give them a fifth of November that shall never, ever be forgotten.
youtube
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fuck OFF!!!
#germanpost
Ich hasse es !!!
Ich hasse diese Gott verdammte Welt!
So viel Ungerechtigkeit !!!
So viele Aufgaben !!!
Kein Verständnis von niemandem !!!
Immer alleine !!!
OneManArmy!!!
0 notes
Note
If you still write for it, can you write a V for Vendetta reader insert where the reader lives in the Shadow Gallery with V, and the reader is playing the piano one day while V is supposed to be out, but gets home early to find the reader playing the piano? Please and thank you!
V XReader – Familiarly Unfamiliar
A/N – I’m back and so is V, hopey’all enjoy.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
You watched, a littledisheartened as V prepared for his next outing. So far, he hadn’t seen you butyou held no doubt that with his skills, he’d heard your footfalls before you’deven arrived. You glanced at the book in your hands, “The Golden Compass.” V had suggested the contraband book in thehopes you might like it.
On a night such as this when thecold drafts and nightmares of a life you couldn’t return to would haunt you,preventing sleep, you’d hoped to coax V into reading to you; it usually wasn’thard, he seemed to need the company more than you did.
“You have something to say,” Vstated, breaking the silence.
You hid the book behind yourback, forcing a confident smile on your face, and hating every second; V neverlied to you, it felt rude not to extend the same courtesy to him. Despite that,you couldn’t bear to hurt him or push him away by being too needy or intolerantof his life’s goal.
“No, I’m fine,” You said, “I justwondered where you’re going tonight.”
V turned, tilting his headslightly and studying you, apparently deciding what best to say. “I thinkyou’ll find it better not to lie to me. If you are upset, you must say so beforeit becomes something hideous.” ‘Somethinglike me,’ went unspoken but not unthought.
You sighed, letting the smiledrop, “Sorry V, I just don’t want to worry you with something so unimportant.”
“Don’t hold your emotions in suchlittle regard, they will always be important to me. Now, please speak them.”
“I… couldn’t sleep again and Iwas hoping you’d sit and read to me… if you wanted to?”
V rested a hand on your shoulder,making you long for further contact; a peck on the cheek, his forehead againstyours, even a simple hug would suffice. “When I come back, I’d be honoured,” hepromised solemnly. “Before I go, is there anything else you need?”
“What time will you be back?”
“If everything goes according toplan, it should be the early hours of the morning but it’s imperative that Ileave now, I hope you understand.”
“You’re always patient with me,the very least I can do is try to understand you.”
V nodded, thanking you silentlyand relinquishing his hold on you to leave. Alone in his room, you wonderedwhat items would reveal more about the man behind the mask. You could’ve inspectedthe contents of every nook and cranny but without V there, you saw very littlepoint in doing so; items were just items, without a person there, they weresoulless.
Checking your watch, you saw itwas only 11:00 PM, V would be gone for approximately four or five hours; howwould you keep the nightmares at bay until then?
Initially, you tried reading toyourself but the surrounding silence led to a disheartening fear you couldn’tquite explain. After that, you’d went to the jukebox only to discover howlonely it was to listen alone; it made you wonder how V had lived in completeisolation for so many years. Finally, you settled for exploring; so much of theShadow Gallery had gone unseen by you, it held almost as many secrets as Vhimself. Grabbing a torch for the darker rooms, you set about your task,discovering many a room from art galleries to armouries, libraries to halls offorbidden technology; the danger V must have gone through to obtain everythingwas awe-inspiring.
While you could have marvelledforever, there was still much to see and only a short hour had passed.Continuing, you found yourself drawn to a room hidden behind plush red velvetcurtains, certainly once belonging to a theatre or some such establishment. Tooheavy to pull back on your own, you found a switch which opened them on a jerkymotor in dire need of servicing; it only managed to pull the curtains a shortway before cutting out, leaving a large enough gap to permit you.
The sight that befell you wasastonishing. Instruments enough for an entire orchestra filled the centre ofthe room while the sides were lined with less classical instruments or thosefrom other cultures. One display held each type of guitar, some signed by thelikes of old legends like Jimi Hendrix or Metallica. Another had instrumentsfrom the farthest reaches of Asia who you knew England hadn’t traded with sinceyou were a child; you couldn’t even have named the objects if it wasn’t for thelabels beside them.
However, it wasn’t the guitarsthat beguiled you. Nor was it the drums or the bassoons. You walked past theharpsichord, ignored the flutes, barely glanced at the lyres and harps. Whatreally hypnotised you, drawing you towards it like Aurora to the fabled spindle,was the Grand Piano, resting majestically in the corner of the room, simplywaiting to be played once more. You sat on the stool, getting into position asyou had learned before coming to the Shadow Gallery.
You wiped the dust off the keys,picking a tune in your mind and playing it dutifully. The melody echoed throughthe old subway station, admittedly off key in some places; evidently the pianoneeded tuning. However, you couldn’t be deterred as you played on, keeping thememory of Beethoven alive with the sweet tune of Für Elise; something whichhadn’t yet been added to the blacklist, not that it mattered all the way downhere. For now, it was simply invigorating to play.
One sweet song flowed afteranother, making time a false concept as it passed you by, leaving you on thewings of the notes you played. Without pausing, you switched from classical tojazz, from jazz to rock, then from rock into swing.
Meanwhile, V observed from thegap in the curtains, astounded. He’d thought he’d known everything you enjoyedbut now, listening to you play, it made you a mystery again; you werefamiliarly unfamiliar. You finished the song with enthusiasm, pounding the keysdramatically and listening to the echo, already contemplating the next tune. Vapplauded, entering the room and approaching you. Thankfully, your cheeks werealready red from the effort you’d exerted, hiding the blush that would havesurely formed.
You checked the time, quicklyfinding that V was home early; it was only midnight. He’d rushed through hismission, still careful to be thorough, to get back to you. The Shadow Gallerywasn’t the friendliest of places for those who weren’t used to being alone;it’s why he loathed himself for leaving you, among other reasons. Honestly,he’d expected you to be curled up with a film, safe, warm and most importantly,destroying the eerie silence that suffocated most rooms; well, the musiccertainly took care of that though it was more beautiful than any film couldstand to be.
“That was quite lovely,” hecomplimented.
“Thank you,” You breathed. “Whendid you get in?”
“Somewhere between jazz and rock.You never told me you could play the piano.”
“You never asked and until todaythe opportunity never arose.”
“Touché. If you permit me to ask,would you be so kind as to play another?”
You recollected all the times Vhad shown you kindness. He’d opened his home to you without question, spentcountless nights escorting you through the Gallery or reading to you, introducedyou to his favourite films and watched yours in return; the least you could donow was to give him the one thing he’d requested. Shuffling over, you patted the bench, invitinghim to sit with you. He perched on the seat, watching silently as your handsgrazed lightly over the keys.
“What do you want to hear?” Youasked.
“What song moves you?”
You pondered the question, thenbegan playing a sweet melody you’d known since childhood, “Tale As Old As Time.” It didn’t matter if V didn’t know what it wasfrom, he was content to be by your side, taking solace in your presence.
425 notes
·
View notes
Photo
A comic I made because I was bored…
Derp Xp
12 notes
·
View notes
Photo
When human beings lose their connection to nature, to heaven and earth, they do not know how to nurture their environment or how to rule their world – which is saying the same thing. Human beings destroy their own ecology at the same time that they destroy one another. From that perspective, healing our society goes hand and hand with healing our personal, elemental connection with the phenomenal world.
~ Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shit Happens
Nothing special today...
I wanna see Dead people or something like that and share it with you...
You got something for me? Funny Deaths?
Send it !
0 notes