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talk, it's only talk
arguments, agreements, advice, answers,
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it's only talk
talk, it's only talk
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it's only talk, back talk
talk talk talk, its only talk
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these are words with a D this time
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elephant talk, elephant talk, elephant talk
Jan 10 10/366
The fortune reads "SIMPLICITY IN YOUR LIFE WILL ENSURE YOUR HAPPINESS". How often do we choose not to see signs of help? How often do we choose not to listen to good advice? After lunch I was thinking of what my photo for today would be and this fortune cookie and it's advice answered. :) By the way, it was a delicious lunch!
Often when I see people pitch X-men reboots, they do one of two things: A) Do the original Uncanny X-men roster of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Beast, Angel and Iceman or B) Just plugs in every popular X-men right off the bat. I don't like either of these. The uncanny X-men roster is kinda bland, while having every popular X-man in one movie would obviously not work.
My ideal line up would comprise of Cyclops, Jean Grey, Nightcrawler, Storm and Angel. Professor X and Beast would also be present but as mentors to the team, not actual X-men.
ANSWER:
As you can see, there was another baby calve (female?) right next to the larger male (?) and was reaching around with her trunk and feeding him.
The two calves are inseparable and absolutely adorable as the played together. The two young mothers hovered near them at all times, never more than 10-15 feet away.
Female elephants (cows) help each look after each other’s calves. Babysitting other females calves is important for elephant development; young females learn how to look after the young, and the calves are shown how it’s done. The survival rate of a calf greatly increases when more females are present and willing to play that role.
© Copyright - brendan ó - 2011 | All rights reserved.
Please do not use, copy or edit any of my materials without my written permission. If you want to use this or any other image, please contact me first.
Hasselblad 500 C/M
Carl Zeiss Distagon 50mm f/4 C T*
Kodak Ektar 100
Bellini Foto C-41
Scan from negative film
Update: The right answer was given by Philip, klik hier.
It's a WINDMILL
---------------------------------------------------
Thank you all so much for guessing ...
The right answer hasn't been given so far ...
Lokofil ... you came closest :-)
So, here's a hint --> The background is not water, but SKY ... :-)
But ... I must admit: it really looks like ripples in the water.
52 in 2022 Challenge - 8 Your Favourite Number
The other week I was out with Darren Wilkin and mentioned that I had to do my favourite number for a challenge, but I don't really have a favourite number.
Darren instantly said 42, and it just so happened that yesterday I was sat at table number 42. So 42 can now be my favourite number :)))
Courage doesn’t happen when you have all the answers. It happens when you are ready to face the questions you have been avoiding your whole life.
Shannon L. Alder
Zeiss Ikonta SuperSix Tessar 80mmF2.8 ( wide open )
/ Fuji ACROS100 : Rodinal 1:100
/ vuescan + lightroom3
LOL, don't know if this even makes any sense at all but it was fun and that's all that matters!! :))
GhostWorks Texture Competition #62
Texture with thanks to Skeletal Mess. Additional texture thanks to Kerstin Frank Art. Stonehenge photo thanks to Danny Sullivan.
Holmes & Watson go to extraordinary measures in an attempt to find someone who can answer their questions.
Answering the theme for February, which was "Red". Here's the guitarist from Friday's gig at the Duke of York in Belfast.
#Answer Yes or No...:)
~Up theo tâm trạng thou
~K thic cmt thì FAV nhá đó kug là cách tl ák :)
~Hết tuần này sẽ up pic mới
~ Tôi đã bắt đâu thay đỗi
~ Khoảng cách xa dần theo thời gian
~ K wt t thì lam s bk t đã change :-<
~ Tôi ước
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@ Mong ước sẽ thành hiện thực. Khoãng cách ta sẽ gần hơn hay la sẽ mãi xa
P.s:Cmt cho pic dứi nha tks nhìu dắm :).
Instant Chemical Soup — part 5
Read this story on Medium featuring further experiments in instant photography deconstruction.
Read the story, view the gallery, please leave your feedback! and expect more soon in the series of galleries at medium.com/tag/instant-chemical-soups/latest
Two hawks were calling to each other and I was standing practically under the tree where this one was perched.
Sometimes I look at you and I simply wish I had a photocamera in my eyes.
It would answer so many question I have no words to answer to...
"What do you find attractive in him?" "Why do you even bother?"
All it would take is some easy snapshots: The face you make when you think, the face you make when you smile, the moments you notice the smallest signs of distress, and you're ready to try and help.
I wish I could show everyone the answer to their questions, but then... no. This is mine. The wonderful secret of your better sides...
I feel like not even a second was wasted in the process of knowing you, and staying by your side.
When the cameraman is tired and unhappy behind his wall of tecnology, nobody really notices it.
They keep on acting their roles, and who the fuck even cares?
*You* care.
Thank you.
--------------------------------
Model: Aratoamin, but he've been modded so much he doesn't even resemble himself XD
==The Hindu Kush Valley==
Walking through the desert, a group of heroes look over at a nearby village. Orange flames lick and spit, civilians run for cover. At their leader's insistence, one, a red and yellow android creates a cyclone, extinguishing the blaze. Another, a Magician in a top hat utters the spell "Wolf Retaw," a stream of water bursting from her wand. Their leader, a blond haired, handsome man, looks up at a nearby jet and puts his finger to his ear. "This is Aquaman, we've arrived at the drop sight. Over."
Onboard the Javelin, Mr Terrific answers back. "Understood. What do you see?"
Aquaman pauses. The recent sandstorm had made it difficult to see much of anything, even with his heightened senses. A few yards away, he notices something. A series of immobile, black figures, pointed ears atop their masks. "Talons... I see... God."
They're all dead, impaled on their own swords, unable to move. He looks at his boot, drenched in their bizarre, greyish blood. They're freshly killed.
Suddenly, the nearest Talon reaches out, unable to take the sword out it's chest, instead it begs, silently, in the hopes Arthur might slay it.
"They're still alive..." he gasps.
At this, Terrific looks at the scanners, zooming in on the heroes below them. "Aquaman, get out of there."
"I don't understand," Arthur replies.
"The blood, Arthur, look at the blood!" Holt yells, as the other heroes join him on the bridge. Without uttering a word, the other Leaguers nod at Holt, and exit the Javelin.
Aquaman steps back, and looks down at the ground. "What the hell?"
Written in the Talon's blood, a single word. "Aquaman."
"Tornado, Zatanna, get out of here," he yells, before a plasma ray sends him flying through a building. Walking towards him, in a black and silver suit, his red eyes glowing with energy, is Black Manta, beside him a man in a red and black tuxedo, a camera mounted on his head. "He actually delivered... Start filming."
=The League of Assassins Archives. Nanda Parbat=
Ra's looked at the case. Inside it, *her* costume- a bright orange and black leotard, wings protruding from it's back, long red boots and gloves, and a black domino mask. He opened the cabinet, and held the blade in his hand. It must've been fifteen years since he last held it in his hand. The day he gave it to her.
"Master, you wanted to speak with the informant?" Ubu asks.
Ra's stroked the blade. Nostalgia was not something he often let himself feel, but this, this was different. He'd written it off at first, the effects of the new Lazarus strain, but he couldn't ignore it any longer. He turned his head to his servant, blade in hand. "Ah, yes."
"Father, is this wise?"
"Talia, enough," Ra's says, raising a hand to his daughter. "Ubu, let him in. Leave us," he adds, as Talia heads towards the door.
Complying, he opens the door, and lets him in. The man who sold out the Misfits, the man who told the League of their plans, and where to find them. In a hushed, gruff voice, the figure mutters, pointing an annoyed finger at Ra's. "That sword. 'Doesn't belong to you."
"No." Ra's smiles, turning to face Doctor Gaige. Gone was the red mask and snappy suit, traded for his old scuba gear. His mask may obscure his face, but there was no mistaking his demeanor. Ra's gestures to his trophy cases, dozens of them, as he continues. "It doesn't. None of them do. This place, this shrine was built three hundred years ago. I oversaw it's construction personally. It honours all my fallen warriors. Sons, daughters. The finest assassins the world has ever known..."
Gaige stirs. "Did you murder *them,* too?"
Ra's turns his head slightly. "Some, yes. But it will never be said they died without honour.
You must think me a monster. A butcher. It's true, yes, I've buried children before, Doctor Gaige, my own, and, I will continue to do so long after your death. I can *just* handle the effects of the Lazarus Pit centuries on, but the toll it takes on them... It is better, sometimes, to let them die. So, I do what anyone who has lived as long as I should do. Move on."
"Yes, well, that's always been my issue," Gaige growls.
Ra's nods. "Hmm. Of course. But, thank you, regardless of our histories, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. Rest assured, Mr Walker and his friends will be dealt with."
Gaige walks forwards, a finger pointed at Ra's throat, bitterness in his words. "Please, I've seen how you treat those you respect."
"You speak of Miranda?"
"I *speak* of my daughter."
...
Ra's moves Gaige's hand away. "My condolences."
Gaige nods, as he pushes towards the shrine. "I just want her body, and her gear. Do whatever the hell you want with them."
Again, Ra's nods, but he can't help look at Gaige. He was quieter, and he hadn't even swore. At last, the pirate chuckles to himself.
"Heh. It wouldn't have worked anyway. Walker's plan. They'd be dead before they even made it to you. Funny that," he nods. "But... imagine, say, if they actually got in here," he says, as he pulls out a harpoon, and fires it into Ra's hand.
==Ra's Palace. The Courtyard==
"You say hell yeah, and I'll kill you myself."
Chuck turns to Gar, a sly smile on his face. "Never," he says cheekily.
Lined on the cobblestones, were the Misfits. Gar, Chuck, Rigger, Chancer and Needham. Their hands were tied, and they were forced onto their knees, by the surrounding Ninja. One mans a camera, aiming it at the five of them, while several more draw their swords.
"The Master wants Walker to watch," one of them says, dressed in a yellow and brown outfit.
The cameraman nods, donning a black and green outfit. Though he doesn't say a word, his message is simple enough to understand. 'Of course, Shrike.'
"Cypher-?" Gar calls out suddenly. "You son of a bitch!"
"You're making a scene," Needham murmurs.
"Oh no, first Gaige now you?! I'm going to roast you alive you fuckin' traitor!" Gar screams, as another two ninja rush to restrain him
"Hell yeah!" Chuck adds encouragingly, before muttering a feeble apology. "Sorry."
"The Master offered you mercy," Shrike says warningly, as he begins to sharpen his blade. "You should've taken it."
"Your master dropped a city on us, personally, I'm not a fan," Chancer mutters to himself.
"Enough. Kill him first," Shrike says, as a ninja pulls Chancer in front of the camera.
"Oh, fuck you, buddy, I didn't even fucking swear!" Sharpe screams out, as his neck is placed on a stone slab.
"Oh, Jeez," Rigger moans. Needham sighs, and turns his head away. Gar looks on in horror. Chuck whispers a "Hell no," as the ninja raises the blade above his head, and- the sword shatters on Chancer's neck. The ninja steps back in confusion. Chancer grins as confidence surges through him. As he rises to his feet, the cuffs slide off. The first ninja runs at him, but slips and falls on their face. A second trips over the body, their sword flying through the air, hitting a third in the chest. A fourth hurls a throwing star at Sharpe that he ducks under, landing in a fifth's forehead. Cypher looks at the carnage, and runs off, abandoning the camera. When all's done. The Misfits look at Sharpe incredulously.
"Guess who's back in business," he exclaims proudly, before Shrike punches him in the back of the head, as he collapses to the ground
Gar looks down disappointedly. "Huh. That was almost impressive," as Shrike pulls Chancer off the ground, and unsheathes his blades.
"Oh, you're dead," he smirks, as suddenly, an orange fireball hits him from behind.
As Volcana lands on the ground, Shrike lunges for her, but he's quickly dispatched with with a blast of yellow flames. Turning to Gar, she smiles uncharacteristically sweetly. "Hi honey!"
===The Dungeons===
"My god... Norbert. Norbert, I'm sorry. I let you down. I'm always doing that."
Drury looks at his brother, chained up, bloody. No doubt in his months of captivity, Ra's agents had reprogrammed him. Just another failure of his, Drury thought. When would they stop?
As Norbert's chains are undone, Drury closes his eyes. This was it wasn't it? Not on the battlefield, not by Ra's or Bane's hand... Just him, trapped in a dungeon, with the Killer Wasp.
"Drury..."
Norbert looks down at him, cocks his head to one side, then kneels beside him. Holding his brother's head in his hand, he whispers hoarsely. "Still me."
Drury opens his eyes, and stares at him incredulously... those were *his* eyes. Warm, kind, alive.
Norbert turns round, and with an energy blast, tears the stone wall apart, offering Drury his hand, they barrel down the hall, taking down every Ninja in their way.
"Y-you... You fought it? You fought the brainwashing," Drury asks, struggling to keep up.
As they arrive at the laboratory, Norbert stops, and picks up a pair of bloodied pliers. His own.
For the first time since Drury had been reunited with him, he winks. "I made promise, Drury. Never again."
"No!" a metallic voice echoed, as Darhk marches towards them from the other side of the room. "You belong to me! You do what I say."
Norbert pauses, raises Darhk above his head, and smashes his glass visor. As he struggles to breathe, Norbert rests a hand on his shoulder, helping him lie down. "Never."
"Not bad, kid," a voice calls down to them, as Deathstroke turns to his comms. "The shields are down, the codes are yours. It's showtime."
=======
"This is Javelin-Theta, our systems have been compromised, we're being pulled apart up here!" Ollie yells as he attempts to steer the ship away from the village.
Flying beside them, a purple clad assailant uses his powers to rip the ship apart, and hurl it at another.
"Gotta say, this is so cool!" he yells to himself.
Passing by him, Sinestro barks a word of warning at him. "Nichol, please focus," as he creates a yellow buzzsaw to take on another jet.
Deflecting, Polaris laughs heartily. "C'mon, boss, have to admit, this is a lotta fun," he calls out, using his metallurgy to pull a steel clad man out of the jet.
"Hey Plug Boi, pick on someone your own size!" Guy Gardner, yells, as he hits Polaris with an oversized mallet, and catches Steel in a catcher's mitt.
"That's the wrong one, Guy," Hal calls back, as he creates an emerald net around Evil Star.
"Same difference Jordan!"
As Nichols rises back into the air, he calls out, confused. "What's a Plug Boy?"
Nearby, the Batwing weaves in and out of the airborne superheroes and villains. A strike from Black Adam's lightning immediately overcharges it's systems, spinning it out of control. "Batwing's hit, switching to auxiliary power," Bruce calls out, as he hits a few levers in an attempt to keep himself airborne.
"I don't understand, it's like they knew we were coming..." Clark calls, as he swoops in and catches the crew from the downed Javelin.
Bruce growls over comms. "Kenyon. Goldface baited us, and we fell for it."
"This is Flash," Barry says as he runs through the battlefield, "Bats, something's not right, Bane and half his goons are a no-show. Hell, I think saw Bivalo for crying out loud! Reckon it's some kind of a diversion."
"Understood," Batman replies. "Bane's there somewhere, Flash, keep at it. Any Society member we take down is progress, I'll have Cyborg increase the scanners."
"I'm all dark here, Bats. Whatever they've got, it's got a hell of a jammer," Cyborg chimes in.
====Society Field Headquarters====
Bane watches the battle from above. Hundreds of the society's underlings, *his* underlings, battle the Justice League and Ra's ninja. He felt something unfamiliar, something swelling in his chest. Pride. "Thinker, I think it's time we make our introduction. Lower shields," he says turning to the holographic display beside him.
The Leagues look at the sky, emerging from the clouds, a massive skull-like spacecraft. Brainiac's.
Bane smirks, as he addresses the ground forces. "We recovered this from an ARGUS blacksite from one of his last invasions. Primary shrink ray has been disabled, secondary weapons at maximum capacity. Let's begin."
~
Across the world, people watch the battle unfold, as heroes and villains alike fall.
In their slabside cells, Harvey Dent and David Clinton watch on enthralled. As Two-Face argues with himself, Chronos raises a finger to the screen. He knew them all, didn't he?
Bound to a wheelchair, Jonathan Crane trundles through the Asylum gardens, "That should have been me," he thinks to himself longing to wield a yellow ring once more.
Julian Day watches in his new hideout, concerned. Wherever the Misfits had gone, they weren't on the front lines.
In his funhouse, the Joker lets out a maniacal laugh. Let them have their fun. They'll see, it's all a joke anyway.
In Italy, Roman Sionis rests his tennis racket on the ground, and reaches for his phone. "Those idiots are really gonna destroy the world aren't they?" he mutters to his assistant.
In his penthouse, Oswald Cobblepot shares a drink with the Great White Shark. Turning to the TV, he can't help smiling knowing those Talons are suffering.
In the Batcave, Alfred Pennyworth watches on the oversized monitor, and sighs as he continues dusting. His attention turns to the Watchtower teleporter, as a high pitched beeping starts to ring out. "What on Earth?" he wonders.
In Lexcorp, already in the midst of his own masterplan, Luthor checks his smartwatch. "So they actually did it, did they? Morons."
On the streets of Central City, money in hand, the Rogues pause in front of a computer shop, all the screens displaying Simm's footage. His phone buzzing, Mirror Master answers it.
"Yo, McCulloch, you seeing this?" the voice on the other end asks.
"Aye, kid. I am."
"Good," Axel says, as he puts on his domino mask and turns to his sister.
On the battlefield, Disaster points at Simms, and pulls the Mighty Bruce to his side. "Hey, Bruce, that guy's got a camera *on his head*"
"Major, that's Mr Camera-" Tockman begins.
"Why didn't you ever think of that? Certainly beats lugging all this gear around" Disaster continues, ignoring both Bruce and Tockman's protests.
"I'm claustrophobic, Major," Bruce mutters.
At this, Artie taps Disaster on the shoulder and whispers harshly into his ear.
"Maj, please don't stuff the kid's head inside a camera."
Lastly, in Butchinsky's, Len looks at the bar. Empty. With the Society's video on every station, everyone else had already gone to fight. His picked his rag off the table, and smiled. "Fuck it." And walked out the door.
Police patrol - No 4. of a documentary series published by L'Itinéraire, a street magazine sold by people who have a rough life. I have the priviledge to coach some writers and to take pictures to support their articles.
After a night full of fighting crime, the caped crusader finds the highest ledge and watches over the crime ridden Gotham city.
pienw.blogspot.com/2024/05/de-haagse-school-in-een-ander-...
The Hague School in a Different Light, an exposition at the Kunstmuseum, The Hague
Running out of allowed submissions to the group. I've got two guns (including this one) ready to go on the group, and it wouldn't suprise me if I came up with a fifth not to long from now. Then I'll have to wait a day I suppose...
Third Journal Page:
"What was I to do? My wife was dead, my daughter kidnapped, no one would believe me, and the only answer I had lay with the coordinates and this strange gun.
So I followed it.
The coordinates were to a small island off the coast of New England, a good haul north from the green woods of Pennsylvania where I was born and raised. I packed a duffle with some clothes, a few food items, and the gun. Before I knew it I was there. The drive had been automatic, my entire trip a monotony deviod of thought. Only a dull empty feeling in my heart that weighed me down like lead.
It was an wet foggy morning, with a bitter chill in the air that bit to the bone. A morning that any other day would have been gladly spent inside where it was warm and comfortable.
I rented a small row boat to take myself to the island, seeing as none of the local sailors were in any state of a mood to take me to it themselves. I arrived after an hour of rowing and fastened a rope to the nearest tree to tether my boat in place. It was a bleak place, a rocky hump jutting out of the water, its sea beaten head covered with dark pines. I started to look for a path when the thought occured that it might be best to take the gun with me. I had a horrid feeling about this place, and I wasn't much assured by the fact that whoever directed me here thought it important to give me a weapon first. Clumsily hefting it, I made my slow way up the difficult rocky slope to the nearest pines.
As I came under the branches of the tall silent guardians, these anciet pines that looked to be old that perhaps they remembered days when they stared at America's first settlers with the same dark brooding gaze I felt now. No where before did I feel so strongly like the tree around me were alive and aware of me, and by no means happy that I was walking beneath them.
I felt frightened then, and angry at myself that I was frightened. It is nothing, only trees. Continue on Matthew, you're almost through it, I thought to myself, there is notthing here to be afraid of. You'll get out of here and find that it all was just a silly hoax, a false hope.
But I could not help the feeling of being followed and watched by something. I was about to turn back when something caught my eye. Up ahead there was a bit of tall rocks that jutted up towards the seaward side of the island. A deep cleft ran into them, facing the mainland, and there was a large boulder wedged in the cleft in such a way it made a natural archway leading into the narrow path created by the cleft. What caught my eye though was something carved upon the rock. I had spent fifeteen years of my life in studies of archeology, specializing in Viking history. I knew very well what I saw carved deep into that stone. It was a rune.
At this revealation, which any other day I would normally consider a career making find, filled me with dread at this particular moment. But it was too late to turn back, my mind would give me no peace if I did.
So I slowly walked into the narrow cleft the forged deep into the tall stones.
It did not climb upwards as I had expected, but rather dropped slowly, making its way between the giant monolithic stone fingers until finally it emerged into a great basin. Surrounded on all sides by tall jutting stone, it was filled with the same pines that covered the rest of the island, with one exception. In the middle of the basin rose a hill covered in stones and old rotten wood. That is all it appeared at first, but as I looked upon it I recognized as a now decayed hillfort.
I don't know why, but I felt the urgent need to be there. I rushed along the dirt track leading up to the fort, scrabbling up the stone rubble to the top.
I was in such a hurry I only noticed the dark furry figure stooped over a dead dear when it moved to glare at me as I stepped into the circle of the hillfort's wall.
It was... terrible. I was stunned in the fear the moment I locked eyes with it. I could only describe it in appearance as looking like how movies liked to depict the old tales of werewolves. It looked like a wolf, but it had long humanoid like limbs with knife-like claws. With a snarl it lunged towards me. I wanted ot raise my weapon and shoot, but fear paralyzed me where I stood.
I could feel its breath and smell its reek when my world was further shocked by the lound boom of what could only be a firearm.
The wolf creature hit the ground with a wet smack, its jaw resting on my hiking boot's tip.
My eyes slowly peeled from the now dead creature to the man now walking towards me carrying a long rifle that strongly resembled my own weapon. He wore a dark brown duster with wide brimmed hat that shadowed his face. He had a thick rough whitish beard and spoke with a deep strong commanding vioce that rumbled with command, but bore an edge of honesty in it that compelled one to instantly wish to trust and take heed to what he spoke.
'Quickly, Matthew Tiberius Allanach, there is no time. Explanations can be had but not now. This is just one old sick beast out of a mighty pack that inhabits this isle. We cannot linger here or we will meet the same fate as those who once lived in this ruin.'
I knew not how this man knew me name, and my full name at that. I was never proud of how much of a mouthful my parents had given me. I was just lucky that 'Matthew' was at least a fairly normal name.
But right now I could not ask this man how he knew this, for I did not doubt in the least that we were indeed in dire trouble."
Feedback (on the gun and the story) is very welcome.
Seriously, comments are very welcome.
A Simple Answer
So this is Easter morning!
Waking to a gentle sunrise,
I take a breath and arise.
What does this new day mean?
Engaging in a Universal Liturgy,
Deep thoughts begin to gather within.
Shall this day banish fear!
Normal distractions pushed aside,
Sacred thoughts I elect to contemplate.
In this moment does a liturgy begin?
Hope increases and peace resides,
And I cling to a morning resurrection.
-Robert Cowlishaw