View allAll Photos Tagged Calloused
A pleasantly warm spring day spent walking barefoot through the countryside. Tough soles, dry earth and wet mud in perfect harmony! Barefoot is best :)
These cold, callous, killers roam the post-apoc cities and other delapidated haunts you wouldn't want to visit.
Just a quick idea I had for a rebreather, like those that have appeared in a few of the post-apoc MOCs recently.
stroh-bil-AN-theez -- cone flower ... Dave's Botanary
kal-OH-sus -- calloused or thick ... Dave's Botanary
commonly known as: karvy • Gujarati: કારવી karvi, કેરડી keradi, પાંદડી pandadi • Hindi: मरुआदोना maruadona • Kannada: ಕಾರ್ವಿ karvi • Konkani: कारवी karvi • Marathi: कारवी karvi • Rajasthani: कार्वी karvi
botanical names: Strobilanthes callosa Nees ... homotypic synonyms: Carvia callosa (Nees) Bremek. ... heterotypic synonyms: Ruellia callosa Wall. • Strobilanthes grahamiana Wight ... POWO, retrieved 5 September 2025
NOTE: Strobilanthes callosus is an orthographic variant that was used historically, such as in the initial description by Nees, and is still occasionally found in research papers and some older botanical texts.
~~~~~ DISTRIBUTION in INDIA ~~~~~
Dadra & Nagar Haveli, Goa, Gujarat, Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Rajasthan; endemic
Names compiled / updated at Names of Plants in India.
Bondage of the Working Poor and Child Poverty
(December 9, 2009)
To ease our collective conscience, society attempts to create the illusion that slavery no longer exists and that the poverty we inflict is, at least, a step above. Moving ahead, nations have made great ceremony to abolish slavery, and then simply renamed the lowest rung on society's ladder. We are an affluent society with an increasing gap between the rich and the growing numbers of poor.
Heartlessly forcing thousands of children to suffer in poverty, Canada, is in no position to speak about the pompatus of love. In definition and practice, there is little difference between slavery, serfdom, and, in the parlance of our time, the working poor; an offensively acceptable state of being. If Canada and British Columbia fail to address the bondage of debt we create with non-living wages, child poverty will remain a tragedy we ignore.
I once saw an old woman trip and fall off the curb in front of the CN tower in Deadmonton, Alberta. She was so old and frail that she was unable to bring her hands up to break the fall. Her face approached the pavement at a horrific speed, proving that, although a short trip, the fall into the gutter can be very painful.
Poverty is such a trip. The working poor and the few who are selected for social assistance and subsidized housing are saved from busting their brain bucket open in the gutter but are left hanging in a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable impact at the bottom of society's fissures. Callously, British Columbia greases the edges of the ever-shrinking middle class plateau with the lowest minimum wage in Canada. Gradually, a momentum of reluctant conscience is building which supports an increase of our embarrassing minimum wage to ten dollars an hour -- a deceptive and half-assed noble gesture. These efforts should not be confused with a solution, when, for much of the province, a living wage is closer to the sixteen dollar mark. A ten dollar minimum will guarantee that children will continue to languish and go without basic necessities of life. Canada has a terrible reputation for creating child poverty; among developed nations we are nearly the worst, a fact not foreign to the world’s attention. According to the United Nations, every over-crowded and under-funded classroom in British Columbia will have at least 5 children suffering in poverty, our shamefully acceptable modus operandi.
Serf, from the Latin: servus, or slave, indebted in servitude to a master, not unlike today’s working poor; slaving away for insufficient wages, substandard living conditions, and limited freedoms. Slavery, serfdom, and other coercive techniques of labour control have existed throughout the world during the entire period of recorded history, and a non-living wage is a more subtle, but none-the-less effective form of bondage and servitude. A low wage forces choices between rent, heat, phone, or feeding the kids; a living wage just covers these basics. How do we expect our workers to survive on ten dollars an hour when B.C.’s living wage is around sixteen dollars?
The bondage created by low incomes eliminates the freedom experienced by other citizens and can be interpreted as enslavement. The new lord and master, debt, thrusts itself upon the modern serf who must swallow a huge debt load with an inadequate income: gagging their options, reducing their freedoms.
Canada lags behind other industrial nations when it comes to eliminating child poverty, but our country excels at hollow promises.
Without opposition, and now without credibility, 1989‘s Canada House of Commons voted to end child poverty by the year 2000. (pause here and wait for laughter to subside).
Sadly, 10% of Canadian Children still live in poverty, an insignificant reduction since the 1989 vote to end their suffering. Our country continues to prosper. Executive and elected official wages and bonuses are at record levels while our poor and disabled suffer; their mass of children sharing the misery of poverty. Every step forward highlights those left behind.
If we have potholes in the road used by the rich in modern cars with advanced suspension systems; we fix them. If the roof leaks on a stadium built for outdoor sports played indoors, we build a new roof. If our old bridge needs repair, we build a new one. If our citizens are dissatisfied and protest, we hire more police and build more jails. If there are homeless and disabled in poverty; we spend billions on an Olympic binge, enhance a functional and pothole-free highway, and cut back social and educational funding.
“There is no excuse for the high levels of poverty in Canada. None. None whatsoever.”(Mel Hurtig)
It took a plague and civil unrest to bring Serfdom to its knees. Perhaps the swine flu or some new virus is poised to reduce the numbers of working poor, increasing their worth to employers. Perhaps those who question authority will generate civil disobedience disturbing enough to force the greed-heads to pay fair wage and provide social services that meet the needs of society.
The cheque is in the mail, and I’ll respect you in the morning.
Government promises of solutions to unemployment, homelessness, and poverty have proven mere salves meant to give the working poor false hope and ease the conscience and obligation of the electorate. Elected officials and executive salaries have skyrocketed while child poverty has continued, homelessness has increased, and minimum wage has remained stagnant. Conveniently, the government and big business can always provide a reason or rationalization to keep wages low.
"The principle that the end justifies the means is in individualist ethics regarded as the denial of all morals, in collectivist ethics it becomes necessarily the supreme rule."(F.A. von Hayek)
In spite of an economic boon, B.C.’s minimum wage remains the lowest in Canada while our child poverty rates are the worst. Gordon Campbell, British Columbia’s infamous aloha-drunk-driving and champion child-poverty creating Premier insists that the minimum wage will not be raised to $10 an hour -- the same Premier who voted himself a 54 percent pay raise. Meanwhile, Canada and B.C. have raped and pillaged our social services, education, and health care funding, at a time when it’s needed the most.
“Through selfishness, greed, indifference, and cruelty, we have forced millions of men, women, and children to struggle through lives of misery, despair, and suffering.”(Mel Hurtig)
If not when our economy is booming, if not when our economy is faltering, if not when our economy is recovering, when will we release the bonds of poverty? Ultimately, our society doesn’t really give a shit about the poor. We only provide lip service. The right thing will not be done, it never is.
“Despite all the fatuous rhetoric and all the pious pronouncements, despite all the House of Commons committees and Senate reports, despite all the warnings from anti-poverty organizations and from the growing number of food banks across the country, despite the inquiries and commissions and all the published studies, the situation is even worse than it was thirty years ago and much worse today than it was twenty years ago.(Mel Hurtig)
The 2009 Report Card on Child and Family Poverty in Canada confirms this trend of indifference that Mel Hurtig observed in 1999 - it’s only getting worse for the poor, and better for the fewer rich. We are left only able to thank our personal imaginary higher power for the gilded path that has been laid out before us, no matter how tarnished. It's less what we've chosen than what we're lucky to have not had to face. Count your blessings, for it is arrogance which makes fools believe they are stronger than that which has overwhelmed countless others.
Their numbers are staggering, an army of working poor, out of view in plain sight, invisible to those who don’t care, like you. The problem is people who accept the existence of legislated minimum wages below the poverty line and minimum wages below a living wage. These poor victims of the system serve us in one of the jobs that they require multiples of to give them enough to live on. They suffer because it benefits our governments, corporations, and small businesses by keeping prices low when more Canadians are out of work or fearful of losing their job; fearful of demanding a fair wage.
It is because of people like us, everybody who accepts welfare rates, unemployment insurance rates, and disability benefits below a living wage, below the poverty line. Just to survive, the disabled must panhandle, beg in the streets, resort to crime, or they join the mass of binners; the hundreds of poor who constantly scour our trash bins and gutters for recyclables to augment their pitifully inadequate disability benefits. They search through garbage for food we refuse to eat, for food they need.
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While waiting for a hamper of food for my daughter and I at the food bank, I watch people leaving with their hampers. For some, this monthly allotment of food doesn’t even fill a single plastic bag. Before leaving, some wander over to a shelf sparsely stocked with cans of dog food, and fill their bag. I’m sure many of them don’t have dogs.
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With camera in hand, I witness this world we don’t admit to seeing. I photograph the poverty we condone, the poverty we inflict. For years I have donned gloves without tips, to allow my digits to finger my camera’s controls and calibrations in the cool and cold; before, through and after the midnight hour. Prior to picking up a camera to photo-document the street community, my decade was dominated with my career as an emergency shelter worker and a youth counselor.
Through it all, I have heard it all, and I have heard too much. I know their stories well enough to know they‘re all the same; every single different god damn story. It was a load too much that would crush another. It was a series of horrific violations to body, heart and soul. It was too sad to put to words for someone to hear who has never been street. When something was needed, it was never there. Incomprehensible for someone who has never been truly poor and thoroughly ravaged. Politician’s promise, citizen’s join facebook groups and attend charity galas, in the name of abolishing poverty, while the working poor, the unemployed and the disabled remain; impoverished.
“…20 years of indifference to the problems of our kids living in poverty...”
Canada’s “national disgrace.”
(Ed Broadbent)
From far and wide, O Canada, we keep serfing the lower class by trapping them in jobs that don’t pay enough to escape poverty and their shit-hole of an existence. As long as our governments, corporations and small businesses continue to support and inflict poverty upon the people they need to use to make their fortunes, this is as good as it gets.
If we don’t seriously raise minimum wages and provide the funding that our social, education, and health services require, we need to be honest and tell the nearly 700,000 Canadian children who live in poverty the truth: “tough shit kids“, “it sucks to be you”, and “I don’t care (enough).” Look them in the eye, or turn your back on them just like Canada does.
Jordan Hobson Wiki
Jordan Hobson Biography
Who is Jordan Hobson?
The father of the murdered child Star Hobson has said that he will never recover from the 'cruel and callous way' in which his 'precious daughter' was taken from him.
Jordan Hobson issued a statement after Savannah Brockhill was jailed for life for murdering Star and the boy's mother, 20-year-old Frankie Smith, was sentenced to eight years for allowing the death of her daughter.
Hobson, who is a college student, split from Smith before she began a toxic relationship with Brockhill, a judge heard earlier this week.
He said Friday: `` The horrible death of my beautiful daughter has left me devastated and I will never recover from the callous and cruel way Star was taken from me.
'No sentence that a court can impose will bring back my precious daughter.
"Now I would ask for privacy so I can start crying and start trying to get the pieces of my life back."
The age of Jordan Hobson can be estimated between 25 and 30 years in 2021, however, the actual age of him is unknown.
He is reportedly attending the University of Sunderland and is working towards a degree in Criminology.
In June 2020, Jordan Hobson made a referral to social services to check on Star's health status.
In September 2021, he wrote a oost remembering his daughter : "1 year ago my whole world fell apart.
"I miss you so much!
Third in a series of images taken with an eye for the interplay of light and shadow. I welcome your comments!
...The man was extremely handsome - a dark bronzed woman-killer with a neat moustache above the sort of callous mouth women kiss in their dreams. He had regular features that suggested Spanish or South American blood and bold, hard brown eyes that turned up oddly, or, as a woman would put it, intriguingly at the corners. He was an athletic looking six foot, dressed in the sort of tweed that suggests Anderson and Sheppard. he wore a white silk shirt and a dark red polka-dot tie, and the soft brown V-necked sweater looked like vicuna.
Bond summed him up as a good looking bastard who got all the women he wanted and probably lived on them - and lived well.
The book is dedicated to Dedicated to Ernest Cuneo - 'Muse' and was original to be titled 'Longitude 78 West'.
Vice President Joe Biden will join Senate Democratic Leader Harry Reid, House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi and House and Senate Democrats to call on Republicans to end their callous obstruction and join with Democrats to take meaningful action to confront the urgent, unfinished issues facing the American people.
Late nineteenth and early 20th century hardbacks, second hand. Callous 19th century attitudes to life
Wanted policeman to murder witnesses: Charlotte Lindstrom
The New South Wales Supreme Court has sentenced Swedish socialite Charlotte Lindstrom to nearly four years in jail for soliciting the murder of two witnesses in a drugs case against her boyfriend.
Lindstrom met an undercover police officer on the steps of Sydney's Town Hall in May last year and confirmed she wanted the two witnesses in a cemetery, not a hospital.
The 23-year-old model pleaded guilty to soliciting murder and faced a maximum penalty of 25 years' jail.
But Supreme Court Justice Stephen Rothman discounted her sentence by 60 per cent today, taking into account her guilty plea and assistance to authorities.
Justice Rothman said Lindstrom's boyfriend "callously manipulated" her misplaced loyalty for him and she had nothing to gain personally from the crime.
During sentencing, he described Lindstrom as "vulnerable" and "impressionable", and said she was "a cog in a criminal machine" driven by fear and manipulation.
Lindstrom cried after she was sentenced to three years and 10 months in jail, with a two-year non-parole period.
She will be eligible for release on parole in May 2009.
publik18.blogspot.com/2008/03/impressionable-model-jailed...
And he said to her, “Get up, let us go,” but there was no answer.
Judges 19
One small step for a man, one giant leap into the abyss for mankind.
[Two uploads in one day! Gonna burn y'all out.]
Sadly, although Mike made it all the way to the Fin del Mundo, callous luggage handlers shook him off my bag somewhere on the way back up between Punta Arenas and Santiago.
Vice President Joe Biden will join Senate Democratic Leader Harry Reid, House Democratic Leader Nancy Pelosi and House and Senate Democrats to call on Republicans to end their callous obstruction and join with Democrats to take meaningful action to confront the urgent, unfinished issues facing the American people.
The soft fresh grass always feels amazing under bare soles and makes a nice contrast in texture to the rough earth.
From the autumn 2016 trip to Vietnam:
Hey, Hey, Hue Hue! (“Hue” rhymes with “way,” by the way, and has an aspirated ‘h’ at the beginning.) As I mentioned yesterday, the fine folks at Huenino arranged a private car to shuttle us around the Hue countryside. That cost $37, flat rate, to take as long as we wanted, but she said we would probably be done around 2:00.
After eating an omelet and toast, our driver came to our hotel (which was in an alley) to pick us up. The agenda was this: First, we went to the Thien Mu Pagoda about 1-2 kilometers due west of the Citadel along the Perfume River. After that, we went to three different imperial tombs that were roughly 20 kilometers from downtown Hue (and a few kilometers from each other), and then ended up at the Citadel.
Normally, I wouldn’t be very excited about a pagoda, but when we got to Thien Mu, I was pleased. It’s situated on a slight hill above the Perfume River. (I love the name of the river, by the way, though there was nothing pleasantly aromatic about it. I’m also glad to say it wasn’t a sarcastic name with a pungent bouquet to offend the senses, either.) When you get to the pagoda, though, it has a wonderful little approach: a small, steep staircase that leads up to the pagoda with four pillars right at the top of the stairs that frame the pagoda well.
Next to the pagoda are a few minor temples (about the size of outhouses) surrounded by trees with views of the river. Directly behind the pagoda is the entrance to the temple. The main gate is nice and, upon entering, the main hall is about a hundred meters directly in front of you. The green is pretty lovely and, on the side of the green are some minor halls.
Behind the main hall there is a bonsai garden and a second hall. Finally, behind the secondary hall is another green with a mini pagoda/statue at the back of the grounds. The back of the grounds are enclosed by trees.
After leisurely making our way to the back of the grounds (in 30-45 minutes, I’d guess), we walked back towards the front, photographing flowers and two women in traditional dress before stopping at a side hall that had a peculiarity: A sky blue Austin dating from around 1960.
This is the car (which, I believe, I mentioned in my Saigon posts as well) in which the monk Thich Quang Duc rode from An Quang Pagoda down to Saigon before self-immolating in 1963 to protest the treatment of the Ngo Dinh Diem government. (I won’t elaborate here, but the response of Ngo’s sister, to say the least, was callous. You can find a letterbox in the LP Vietnam and read about it.) As I said, I was absolutely delighted by this temple. I suppose I could ascribe it the polar opposite from how I felt at seeing Disappointment Falls en route to Hue on Thursday.
After roughly an hour here at Thien Mu Pagoda, our driver took us to the first of three imperial tombs. To say a little bit about imperial Vietnam – and the era that these tombs cover – the first thing you need to know is that you can NOT associate dynastic Vietnam with China. They couldn’t be much more different. China’s dynasties span more than two thousand years from 221 B.C.-1911 A.D. (with smaller kingdoms even predating those). When talking about imperial Vietnam, we have to reach way, way back in time…to the 1800s – A.D., that is. So, these tombs are somewhere around 150-200 years old, give or take a few years.
Another thing to know about imperial Vietnam is that they ruled while the country was really being run by the French who, by this point, had taken over Indochina. So, I suppose if you were desperate to compare Vietnamese emperors to Chinese, you could go with the last emperor, Puyi, who was pretty much a puppet emperor in Manchuria until the 1930s when the Japanese let him rule as a figurehead. (Speaking of Puyi, that movie – the Last Emperor – is extraordinary.)
For now, I’ll focus squarely on the tombs themselves. The first one we stopped at was the Tomb of Minh Mang. When we arrived here, we went to the ticket booth to buy a pass to the four sites (three tombs plus Citadel) for 360,000 VND/person (~17-18 USD).
Of the imperial tombs I’ve seen – primarily in southeastern Korea – this one was the most like those. The Korean mausoleums are massive mounds built on top of the tombs and that’s what this was.
In retrospect, Minh Mang’s tomb was my favorite of the three we would see on the day. It was parklike and fairly expansive. Minh Mang “ruled” from 1820-1840, so obviously the tomb would date from sometime around 1840. The tomb was planned during his reign and built by his successor, Thieu Tri.
The Honor Courtyard is at the south end of the complex directly in front of Dinh Vuong (Stele Pavilion). There are three stairways leading up to the pavilion. From inside the pavilion, you have a nice view of Sung An Temple (dedicated to Minh Mang and his empress) directly in front of you and two side halls framing in a courtyard filled with potted flowers.
Behind Sung An temple, you pass through Hien Duc Gate descend some stairs and can cross one of three bridges to span Trung Minh Ho (Lake of Impeccable Clarity). The central bridge was for the emperor’s use only, so I guess I was an emperor on this day.
Once across the bridge, you find yourself looking up at Minh Lau Pavilion (Pavilion of Light) which is built on three superimposed terraces that represent the “three powers”: the ehavens, the earth, and water. To the left of this is the Fresh Air Pavilion and, to the right, the Angling Pavilion.
Finally, you cross another, slightly longer, stone bridge that carries you over Tan Nguyet Lake (Lake of the New Moon). This is a crescent-shaped lake and, once across, you finally find yourself at the base of Minh Mang’s tomb with its rather large staircase flanked by dragon banisters that lead to his sepulcher. However, you also find that the gates are locked and you can’t actually go see the tomb. (It’s only open one day a year, on the anniversary of his death.)
After reaching the tomb, you can walk out the same way you came in or, after crossing the stone bridges in front of Minh Lau Pavilion, you can veer off and take a path that skirts the large and rather pleasant Tan Nguyet Lake back to the front gate (which is what we did).
When we finally made our way back to our driver, I think we’d spent an hour or so at the first tomb. From there, it was a short 5-10 minute drive to the second of the three: the Tomb of Khai Dinh. I’ll simply copy the LP Vietnam description of this tomb here:
“This hillside monument is a synthesis of Vietnamese and European elements. Most of the tomb’s grandiose exterior is covered in blackened concrete, creating an unexpectedl Gothic air, while the interiors resemble an explosion of colorful mosaic.
Khai Dinh was the penultimate emperor of Vietnam, from 1916 to 1925, and widely seen as a puppet of the French. The construction of his flamboyant tomb took 11 years.
Steps lead to the Honor Courtyard where mandarin honor guards have a mixture of Vietnamese and European features. Up three more flights of stairs is the stupendous main building, Thien Dinh. The walls and ceiling are decorated with murals of the Four Seasons, Eight Precious Objects, and Eight Fairies. Under a graceless, gold-speckled concrete canopy is a gilt bronze statue of Khai Dinh. His remains are interred 18m below the statue.”
Khai Dinh’s tomb was a stark contrast to Minh Mang’s. Minh Mang’s takes advantage of a natural setting whereas this tomb has a castle/temple feel to it. It’s on a hill and the views afforded from in front of Thien Dinh are quite wonderful. The temple itself – actually it advertises itself as a palace – is pretty much as Lonely Planet described it: rather ostentatious. That being said, it’s still well worth coming out here, especially to use it as a contrast from the other two tombs. Anyway, about 30 minutes at the Tomb of Khai Dinh should more than suffice even the most leisurely of visitors.
From there, we hopped back in the car for a 15 minute drive to the third and final tomb of the day: the Tomb of Tu Duc. This is actually the closest of the three to the city. I rather like the order in which we visited, though. My favorite first, least-favorite second, and another nice one to end it.
The Tomb of Tu Duc was built between 1864 and 1867. According to LP, it’s “the most popular, and certainly one of the most impressive of the royal mausoleums.” (That being said, I preferred Minh Mang’s tomb…by a long way.)
This tomb was designed by the emperor himself for use both before and after his death. Tu Duc was an interesting puppet king. Basically…he was a sterile Lothario. He had 104 wives and countless concubines, though no offspring. (Ok…he may not have been sterile, but with that many women around, I don’t think it’s a terribly unreasonable guess.)
This tomb is much closer in style to Minh Mang’s than to Khai Dinh’s. When you walk through the front gate, a patyh leads directly to Lou Khiem Lake. There’s a tiny island to the right – Tinh Khiem – where he used to hunt small game. Across the water to the left is Xung Khiem Pavilion, where he would compose and recite poetry to his concubines.
From the lake, turn directly behind you to find Hoa Khiem Temple, where Tu Duc and his wife (Empress Hoang Le Thien Anh) were worshipped. It’s not much to speak of when visiting it today, for it doesn’t seem to be a priority to maintain it. There are two thrones in here…and the larger one was for the empress. Tu Duc was, shall we say, vertically challenged, only reaching 153 cm in stature. (That’s a hair over 5’0”, which would even make Prince seem to tower over him.)
Anyway, the temples to honor the emperor/empress and another to honor his mother were so unimpressive to me that I won’t bother with more details. From this area, you continue to walk back less than 5 minutes to the Honor Courtyard with its statues of elephants, horses, and diminutive mandarins (the emperor ensured that his servants were even shorter than he, though I’m not sure where he found enough that fit that description). The courtyard leads to the Stele Pavilion, which has a 20 ton stele for which the emperor drafted the inscriptions himself. From LP, “He freely admitted that he had made mistakes and chose to name his tomb Khiem (modest).”
Of the three tombs on the day, this one is the least impressive. It’s enclosed by a wall on the back side of a tiny crescent-shaped lagoon. It’s a drab, gray monument. The reason it’s unimpressive, I guess, is because the emperor isn’t actually buried here. The site of his remains is unknown as, to keep it a secret from grave robbers, all 200 servants who buried the king were beheaded. How lovely.
As you can tell, I’m not a fan of this particular kind. (Paranoid and insecure, anyone?) However, the grounds and his tomb – barring the temples dedicated to him and his mom – are pleasant enough. I honestly don’t know why people would consider this the most popular, but I won’t argue. I’ll just say it’s a nice place to visit – but not if it’s the only destination you have in mind. The tombs are best seen as a group for contrast’s sake.
Having had our fix of tombs satisfied, the driver took us back into town and dropped us off just inside the Quang Duc Gate (southwestern gate) of the Citadel right in front of the Nine Holy Cannons. (Actually, there are five on this side; the other four are inside the southeast gate: Ngan Gate.)
The Citadel, for comparison, is quite a bit like China’s Forbidden City in its layout and use. Having said that…it’s nothing like the Forbidden City in terms of scale or elaborate detail. However, it’s still quite photogenic.
To get the dimensions out of the way, the outer wall of the Citadel is 10 kilometers long (close to square in orientation, so 2.5 km by 2.5 km) with a moat surrounding it that is 30 meters across. Within the Citadel, there are very distinct sections: the Imperial Enclosure and Forbidden Purple City is in the center. Temple compounds are in the southwest section and residences for family members (emperor’s mother, for example) are in the northwest. There are gardens in the northeast and to the north was the Mang Ca Fortress (which is still a military base).
Unfortunately for the world, you need to really use your imagination when visiting the Forbidden City because the one thing that wasn’t forbidden, sadly, were bombs by both the French and U.S troops during the various wars of the 20th century. Of the 148 buildings that were originally here, only 20 are still standing.
Getting back to our particular tour of the citadel, it started inside the southwest gate which was the outer wall of the compound. It was more of a military parade ground for the emperor and is currently flanked by the nine aforementioned cannons (for decorative purposes only, found under small pavilions) and a massive Vietnamese flag flying high at the center of the southern outer wall.
Walking across the parade grounds, you get to the ticket booth and pass through Ngo Mon Gate. This is a gate with three doors, the central of which was only for the emperor’s use. On top of the gate is the Ngu Phung (Belvedere of the Five Phoenixes). There’s a large drum and bell on its upper level as well. The emperor only came here on special occasions, the last of which, on 30 August 1945, was when Emperor Bao Dai appeared to end the Nguyen Dynasty, abdicating to a delegation sent by Ho Chi Minh.
After entering and crossing a bridge, you arrive at the Thai Hoa Palace (Palace of Supreme Harmony, built in 1803). This is an attractive palace which forbids photography inside. That’s all for the best. It has nice details but, except for the throne, is essentially a large, empty chamber. In a back room, though, is a nice introductory video that previews the Citadel which I’d recommend watching.
We actually went counter to the plan laid out by Lonely Planet here. Instead of continuing directly through the middle of the compound, we turned left out of the back door of the main palace.
After resting for half an hour or so in a cafe, we continued to the southwest corner of the compound. The highlights here are open fields – in a few cases where temples used to be before being blown to smithereens – and a few nice temples are still standing. The most photographic of these is a temple in front of which stand Nine Dynastic Urns. Having seen the three temples in the southwestern corner of the Citadel, we made our way north along the inside of the western wall towards the residential compounds.
On the way there, we decided to skip those and head back towards the center of the Citadel where we came upon the Hall of Mandarins. This is a hall that lists the accomplishments of every emperor of the Nguyen Dynasty. Again, most of the buildings here are gone, and there are just open, grassy fields framed by the halls. The mandarins used to have their offices off the halls here.
Once through the western hall, you come back into an interior grassy field – also framed by rather nice, long corridors. This is/was the Forbidden Purple City where the private residence of the emperor would have been. To the right of the eastern corridor, just outside the Forbidden Field, is the Royal Theater which, while we were here, was under restoration.
From here, we made our way back towards the Thai Hoa Palace, only to find that we couldn’t exit whence we came in, so we had to follow the wall around to the eastern gate. I can say that the southeastern section of the Citadel just has a nice forest-like feel to it, but nothing architectural of note.
When we finally made our way out the eastern gate, we paid two bike drivers (these are bikes on the front of which are placed chariot-ish looking carts that seat one person) to take us back over towards our hotel where we grabbed a very late lunch/early dinner.
For the evening, we just went out for a walk along the river, but – unlike Hoi An – Hue isn’t terribly impressive at night. There’s a night market, but really, everything just seemed a bit dark and not interesting. This was probably also due to the fact that I was feeling a slight fever (possibly from the afternoon shower the day before) and my energy was practically drained. I’m glad to say that I felt fine the following morning, which was good, since we had a one hour flight to Hanoi that would get us to the capital around noon.
As always, thanks for dropping by and viewing these pictures. Please feel free to leave any questions or comments and I’ll answer as I have time.
tell me why we used to share secrets and now we share distance
we both know this isn't the way it should be
It's been a long week, longer than most. A cold front came in, chilling my spine and mood. I'm starting to feel almost bitter because all the soft, sensitive tissue is becoming calloused. I just wish there was something I could do.
German postcard by Ross Verlag, no. 5620/1, 1930-1931. Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer.
Charles Bickford (1891-1967) was an American character actor of gruff voice and appearance. He was nominated three times for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, for The Song of Bernadette (1943), The Farmer's Daughter (1947), and Johnny Belinda (1948). Other notable roles include Anna Christie (1930), Whirlpool (1948), A Star is Born (1954), and The Big Country (1958).
Charles Ambrose Bickford was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, during the first minute of 1891. His parents were Loretus and Mary Ellen Bickford. The fifth of seven children, he was an intelligent but very independent and unruly child. He had a particularly strong relationship with his maternal grandfather, a sea captain who was a powerful influence during his formative years. At the age of nine, he was tried and acquitted of the attempted murder in the shooting of a trolley motorman who had callously driven over and killed his beloved dog. He attended Foster School and Everett High School. Always more interested in experiencing life than reading about it, Bickford was considered 'the wild rogue' of this family, causing his parents frequent consternation. In his late teens, he drifted aimlessly around the United States for a time. Bickford had intended to attend the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to earn an engineering degree, but while wandering around the country, he became friends with the manager of a burlesque show, who convinced Bickford to take a role in the show. He debuted in Oakland, California, in 1911. Before breaking into acting, he worked as a lumberjack and investment promoter and, for a short time, ran a pest extermination business. He also was a stoker and fireman in the United States Navy. His first entry into acting was on the stage, eventually including Broadway. This venue provided him with an occasional living and served as the principal training ground for developing his acting and vocal talents. Bickford enjoyed himself so much that he abandoned his plans to attend M.I.T. He made his legitimate stage debut with the John Craig Stock Company at the Castle Square Theatre in Boston in 1912. During World War I, Bickford served as an engineer lieutenant in the United States Army. He eventually joined a road company and traveled throughout the United States for more than a decade, appearing in various productions. In 1925, while working in a Broadway play called Outside Looking In, he and co-star James Cagney (in his first Broadway role) received rave reviews. The play was a smash hit, and Bicjkford was offered a role in the film Beau Geste (Herbert Brenon, 1926). Anxious not to give up his newfound Broadway stardom, he turned it down, a decision he later regretted. Following his appearance in the critically praised but unsuccessful Maxwell Anderson-Harold Hickerson drama about the Sacco and Vanzetti case, Gods of the Lightning (Bickford was the Sacco character), Bickford was contacted by filmmaker Cecil B. DeMille. He was offered a contract with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer to star in DeMille's first talking picture, Dynamite (Cecil B. DeMille, 1929), co-starring Conrad Nagel and Kay Johnson. Bickford played a coal miner Hagon Derk, who is sentenced to hang for murder. According to The New York Times reviewer Mordaunt Hall, Bickford gave "a splendid performance". Soon he began working with MGM studio head Louis B. Mayer on a number of projects.
Charles Bickford soon became a star after playing Greta Garbo's lover in Anna Christie (Clarence Brown, 1930) but he never developed into a leading man. Always of independent mind, exceptionally strong-willed and quick with his fists, Bickford would frequently argue and nearly come to blows with Mayer and any number of other MGM authority figures during the course of this contract with the studio. During the production of DeMille's Dynamite, he punched out his director following a string of heated arguments primarily, but not exclusively, related to the interpretation of his character's role. Throughout his early career on both the stage and later films Bickford rejected numerous scripts and made no secret of his disdain for much of the material he was offered. Not surprisingly, his association with MGM was short-lived, with Bickford asking for and quickly receiving a release from his contract. However, he soon found himself blacklisted at other studios, forcing him to take the highly unusual step (for that era) of becoming an independent actor for several years. His career took another turn in 1935. While rehearsing a scene for Universal's East of Java (George Melford, 1935), he was mauled by a 400-pound lion on his neck and shoulders, very close to his jugular vein. it required nearly a year for him to recover from the injuries. While he recovered, he lost his contract with Fox as well as his leading-man status owing to extensive neck scarring suffered in the attack coupled with his advancing age. It was not long, however, before he made a very successful transition to character roles, which he felt offered much greater diversity and allowed him to showcase his talent to better effect. Much preferring the character roles that now became his forte, Bickford appeared in many notable films, including The Farmer's Daughter (H.C. Potter, 1947) with Loretta Young, Johnny Belinda (Jean Negulesco, 1948) starring Jane Wyman, A Star is Born (George Cukor, 1954) starring Judy Garland and James Mason, and Not As a Stranger (Stanley Kramer, 1955), starring Olivia de Havilland, Robert Mitchum, and Frank Sinatra.
Finding great success playing an array of character roles in films and later in television, Charles Bickford quickly became highly sought after. His burly frame and craggy, intense features, coupled with a gruff, powerful voice lent themselves to a wide variety of roles. Most often he played lovable father figures, stern businessmen, heavies, ship captains or authority figures of some sort. During the 1940s, he was nominated three times for the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, for The Song of Bernadette (Henry King, 1943) featuring Jennifer Jones, The Farmer's Daughter (H.C. Potter, 1947), and Johnny Belinda (Jean Negulesco, 1948). In the 1950s, he served as host of the television series The Man Behind the Badge (1955). Bickford continued to act in generally prestigious projects right up to his death. He guest-starred on TV series like The Islanders (1960), The Barbara Stanwyck Show (1960), and The Eleventh Hour (1963). In his final years, Bickford played rancher John Grainger, owner of the Shiloh Ranch, on the Western series The Virginian (1962-1968) with Doug McClure. Two of the actor's most memorable late-career big-screen roles were a wealthy and ruthless rancher in the Western The Big Country (William Wyler, 1958) starring Gregory Peck and Jean Simmons, and the forlorn father of an alcoholic (played by Lee Remick) in the drama Days of Wine and Roses (Blake Edwards, 1962). In 1965, Bickford published his autobiography, Bulls Balls Bicycles & Actors. In 1967, Charles Bickford died in Los Angeles of pneumonia and a blood infection at the age of 76. Jennifer Jones, who was a close friend of Bickford, attempted suicide on the day of his death, but it is not clear if Bickford's death had anything to do with the attempt. Since 1916, he had been married to Beatrice Loring. They had a son, Rex, and a daughter, Doris.
Sources: Jim Beaver (IMDb), Wikipedia and IMDb.
He allowed me to take his pictures point-blank, then callously flew away into azaleas. He's still learning to fly.
You can also see the damage to the bird feeder done by the squirrels.
Dalia the callous, shotgun welding enforcer of episode 2 is played by Charlotte Lilt. One of four lieutenants, Dalia grudgingly only listens to the mysterious Boss. Found somewhere in the gutters of the United Kingdom, a young Dalia was brought to the United States by the Boss to help gain a foothold in the criminal underworld of Madison Marshal.
Chico is obsessed with rocks. This is his rock we have named "egg". He has been rolling egg around the yard for over a year. He cries if he can't find egg !
"Memory in youth is active and easily impressible; in old age it is comparatively callous to new impressions, but still retains vividly those of earlier years." ~ Charlotte Bronte
Vivid - Our Daily Challenge 3.10.12