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Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Ferruccio Lamborghini had the expectation to build a four-seater supercar. As such, he announced the Espada at the 1968 Geneva Motor Show, fulfilling his absolute desire.
Marcello Gandini gave to Espada a style which represented the merge of two futuristic Bertone cars: of ‘Marzel’ based on ‘Miura’, bearing the glass transparent doors that allowed the view of Mrs. Lamborghini’s attractive legs and of ‘Pirana’, based on an experimental model for Jaguar E-Type.
This specific car was acquired by the Museum through auction in Great Britain.
3.929 cc
V12
350 bhp @ 7.700 rpm
Vmax : 256 km/h
575 ex.
Hellenic Motor Museum
Athens - Greece
Oktober 2014
Again thinking of spring, we'd like to share the artwork of our Oribana "Expectation of Dew" from "Oribana Beauty" collection. Starring models are Sanguinaria and Short Tapered Vase. Everything folded from paper, no glue or cutting. Used Japanese and Swedish paper for the plants and the vase.
The diagrams are published in our ORIBANA BEAUTY
Last week's hike along the ridge above the Secret Canyon trail was very pleasant and far surpassed my expectation. No sooner was I home than I was thinking about the rock dome I'd seen from that ridge. After consulting my map, I discovered that the ravine above the dome is the eponymous Secret Canyon, possibly even the source of an earlier Secret Canyon trail. I checked the surrounding landscape on google earth. The southern facing slope of the Secret Canyon ravine looked hikeable and I so I'd hike it.
Thursday I arrived at an empty parking lot. It was about 9 am. I got my things together and headed down Espinosa trail with a feeling of exuberance. It had been months and months since I'd hiked something entirely new, and not just new - intriguing, mysterious.
Pine Creek was all mine; not another soul anywhere. I'd just gotten on the Secret Canyon trail when I met my first snake - practically tripped over it stretched out across the trail. My eye darted to its tail; no rattle. So what snake was this? Its small, shiny scales were grey and patternless, its body was thick and it had a rather narrow head. It was clearly aware of me and, tongue darting, double around and languidly slid up and around a rock beside the trail. I stepped to the other side and went on. The next three miles passed quickly and soon I was eying the slope of the Secret Canyon ravine, looking for a route up. My first thought was to go further along the trail, since it rose to meet the ridge, to see if there were any user trails. As I hiked along, though, I could see that the brush on the foot of the ridge was getting denser the farther north I went. I turned around and went back to where the trail crossed the dry creek. There was still no sign of an obvious way so I shambled into the undergrowth. It turned out not to be too bad and within a few minutes I'd gotten out of the creek bed and was up onto the southern slope where the chaparral became lower and thinner. Rather than follow the creek I headed up, assuming that I'd find some sort of track along the spine of the ridge. The first outcrop of boulders, not more than 20 yards from the trail below, showed signs of having been used by migrants as a camp area. In fact, when I got around to the east side of the rocks I found a sort of cave affair. I was tempted to climb in, since there was a little ledge at the back that I was curious about, but I noticed there were rocks at the top of the crevice and I was concerned they might tumble in, so I just took a picture. I surmounted the outcrop and started my hike up the ridge. The southern facing slope below me was dry and rocky but along the crest there was a mix of laurel sumac, manzanitas, many of which had been chopped back, and chaparral. Though there was no trail, it was obvious that the ridge had always been a natural connector between the highlands above and Pine Creek below. I kept weaving my way up, sometimes dropping down a bit on along the slope, sometimes meandering among the manzanitas. All along the way there were rock spines and I kept my eyes peeled and ears perked. I was about half way up the ridge, and had just cleared a set of boulders and was about to go around another when I heard a sound like a muffled drill. I stopped and looked around my feet. I was standing on a small slab of rock about two foot square. No snakes visible. Then I saw some movement under a low rock overhang three feet away. I stood quietly and the rattling stopped. I could see three or four inches of the rattlesnake's back moving like a brown disk spinning beneath the rock. I turned and found a different way to go.
On my right, across the ravine, the rock dome was getting closer. I decided the best access to the dome would be from above rather than from below in the ravine where there thick brush and trees crowded around its base. As the ridge rose it got steeper and the ravine below deeper. I was about to climb through another spine of cracked boulders the color of dark chocolate when I noticed something unexpected. In the dirt at the foot of these rocks was a rusted, well-worn horse shoe. A nail poked from it like a single tooth. The find seemed to confirm that at some time there had been a trail along this ridge. I climbed up through the rocks. The ridge was now rising to meet the peak above. To my right a ledge of white rock cut laterally across the face of the looming hill. I made my over to the ledge and started hiking along it. This brought me above and around the backside of the dome. Unfortunately, up close the ledge turned out to be more weathered and eroded than it looked from a distance and I was forced to hike up above it. I was not along in this choice. A robust deer trail rose from the ledge and made its way across to the southern corner of the hill, just below a scarp mid-way up the slope. From here I could now see upper Secret Canyon, which lay hidden behind the hill. In fact there were two ravines that converged just below the scarp. One came straight down while the other curved around the eastern side of the hill and continued on to drain two further peaks to the north. I decided to stick with my original plan and go as far as I could along the ridge, now heading north. I climbed to the top of the hill and then hiked along another couple of hundred yards. From there, the ridge line dipped down again and then climbed up to another somewhat higher peak. However in the intervening dip the brush was fairly dense and green. I was sure I could make it out to the next peak but it would be a lot of work. Instead I decided to go back to where the upper ravines met and explore the dome.
Soon I was back at the scarp. From here looking east I could see the back side of Corte Madera. On the far side of the first ravine, the one that came straight down from above, there were several open grassy areas and I suspected these could be Indian camping spots. I scanned the ravine, looking for a reasonable way to cross but couldn't see one. I then turned my gaze to the dome just below me. The approach looked straight forward although there was a formidable manzanita grove at the near end. In a couple of minutes I was standing at the edge of the grove. There was no obvious path skirting the grove so I had to just jump in. The manzanitas were well over my head and once in the bushes I made pretty good headway. At times it was a bit like climbing through a jungle-jim, but there was very little undergrowth and the manzanitas were reasonably spread out. It might have taken me 15 minutes to cross beneath the 20 yards of canopy. When I finally pushed through the last branches, I was a couple feet from a ring of rocks, possibly left there by hunters. I wandered around the dome, whose surface was crisscrossed by large cracks. There were many interesting things there. I was getting ready to leave and had just come around the far side of a large oak bush growing from one of the cracks when I noticed something poking out of the pile of leaves beneath it. I crawled to it; a large pestle protruded from the duff. I cleared away the leaves and uncovered a deep mortar. Finding the pestle propped in the mortar, as if its user was called away and never returned, gave me an eerie, melancholy feeling.
I elbowed my way through the mazanita braches and back under the grove's canopy. I took a little more time now as I climbed through the bushes, looking around and enjoying the grove. Though I hadn't planned it, I emerged at virtually the same spot I'd first entered. I headed for the slope of the hill and then for the white ledge. I undershot it and had to scramble up twenty yards; it was gratifying when I found the deer trail I'd followed earlier. Soon I was descending the ridge, often stepping in my own foot prints. After an hour or so I was back down to the Secret Canyon trail and started heading south. Now that I was down in the canyon I realized how low the sun was. When I got on a fairly even part of the trail I started, for lack of a better term, loping or trotting - a kind of walk/run with my knees bent, my shoulders squared, and my arms kept down at my sides. This gliding stride was much faster than walking and I could do it without breathing hard. Keeping my arms down and shoulders squared prevented the pack from bouncing back and forth. I was able to keep this up for nearly half the five miles back. When I arrived at the car the sun had already descended behind the Alpine hills. It was 7 pm; a ten hour hike.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
advent
expectancy, expectation, looking forward, outlook, trust, confident expectation, eager expectation, contemplation, promise, prospect, awaiting, joy, impatience, preoccupation, hope, high hopes.
This describes how I feel, watching and waiting...
Police officers spend their professional lives trying to play down the public order implications of demonstrations - it's in their interests to keep things calm
But the enormous logistical challenges of providing the world's leaders with security, amid widespread expectation of substantial protests, has led the capital's top officers to issue exceptional warnings about this week's G20 meeting in London.
Last week, Commander Simon O'Brien, one of the senior officers involved in planning the events, said the capital was about to see an "almost unprecedented level of activity" with seven officially notified demonstrations - and potentially many more they don't know about.
It's little wonder that Scotland Yard is describing the G20 policing plan as one of the largest, most challenging and complicated public order operations it has ever devised.
If anyone wants to come to London to engage in crime or disorder, they will be met with a swift and efficient policing response
Commander Simon O'Brien
Metropolitan Police
Events begin on Monday with the three-day state visit to the UK by the President of Mexico.
At the same time, thousands of officials from the other G20 delegations will be arriving in London.
On Wednesday, large "direct action" events are predicted in the Square Mile (although by no means guaranteed) in the shape of the over-lapping "Fossil and Financial Fools Day" protests and the "G20 Meltdown".
At the same time the seemingly well-resourced Climate Camp group says its supporters will try to build a tent city in the middle of one of London's busiest roads to protest against the carbon trading market.
Meanwhile, a couple of miles away, the Stop the War coalition will march from the US Embassy to Trafalgar Square.
And then as evening approaches, there's the small matter of Wembley turning on the floodlights for England's World Cup qualifier against Ukraine.
As for Thursday, the day of the G20 itself, all police can honestly say at the moment is that the picture is "still emerging".
And did we mention that London is a city where there might be a few people trying to get to work and back?
So when officers describe this coming week as a "fluid and dynamic situation", that's something of an understatement.
Click here for a map of expected protests
The security strategy for all of this boils down to something that resembles a three-dimensional ever-changing puzzle. The Met needs to be prepared for a virtually unlimited number of scenarios.
Some 84,000 police man-hours have been allocated to the entirety of Operation Glencoe, the G20 security strategy. All police leave has been cancelled in London for Wednesday and Thursday.
OFFICIAL ADVICE TO CITY FIRMS
Cancel meetings
No entry without ID
Check ID outside buildings first
Minimise entry and exits
Review external smoking areas
Check CCTV equipment
Don't antagonise protesters
Source: City of London Police
Six police forces are part of the £7.5m security plan. The Metropolitan Police is naturally leading - but also calling in colleagues from the City of London and British Transport Police.
Outside of the M25 motorway, officers from Bedfordshire, Essex and Sussex will have critical roles in securing the arrival and transfer of delegations to their virtual bunkers in embassies and hotels.
Don't expect to see President Barack Obama waving from his bomb-proof limousine; he'll walk down the steps of Airforce One at Stansted Airport and board his presidential helicopter for the short hop to the West End.
Inside the capital, police will co-ordinate the movement of these entourages and create a sterile environment at the Excel centre, base for the talks in East London's Canning Town.
The security arrangements at Excel are so rigorous that Newham Council is warning some residents will find it difficult to get into their own homes.
Three Docklands Light Railway stations will close, along with the roads nearest the centre. Pedestrian access will be severely limited and residents will need to carry two forms of identification.
Old faces
Police intelligence suggests the return of "some old faces" to the protest scene - although officers will not be drawn publicly on what that means.
G20 Meltdown poster
Police want "dialogue" with groups planning demonstrations
The level of activity on the net, and its style, suggests a re-emergence of groups which share the aims and tactics of some of the anti-globalisation protesters who turned to violence in 2000 and 2001.
While the Met has tried-and-tested tactics to deal with violence, its strategy for the street occupation promised by the Climate Camp is more difficult to call.
Scotland Yard will not be drawn on how it will respond if the camp turns into something significant, other than its commanders have "flexible plans".
It admits that its overall plans are being informed by the wealth of information now being posted online by the protest organisers.
This internet activity is also helping City firms decide how to prepare. Firms spoken to by the BBC were reluctant to go on the record about any of their specific plans.
Many have turned to private security consultants, who, in turn, are keeping a watchful eye on any specific threats that emerge online. At present, City of London Police are telling firms to cancel unnecessary meetings and deliveries, beef up building security and keep a low profile.
Unpredictable
Each year the Met deals with about 4,500 events requiring visible public order policing. They range from innocuous Boy Scout marches through to the recent angry scenes outside Israel's embassy.
The Genoa 2001 protests
Officials hope to avoid the violence of the 2001 G8 in Genoa
Police believe that if there is a big turn-out on Wednesday and Thursday, the vast majority of people will peacefully make their voices heard.
Past experience suggests unorthodox and imaginative street events can be inconvenient - but also benign.
The unknowable factor is the demonstrator bent on violence.
The police will be determined to avoid the internationally embarrassing scenes of the 2001 G8 in Genoa in which one protester was killed and hundreds more injured.
So with three days to go, the police say their message to protesters is clear.
"Come forward and make contact with us so we can make sure that your [legitimate] aims are achieved," says Commander O'Brien.
"But there are groups that by their very ethos won't talk to us. The groups which enter dialogue with us, we will facilitate [their events].
"We will not tolerate anyone breaking the law, be it by attacking buildings, people or our officers.
"We are looking to police peaceful protest. We don't talk in terms of riots. If anyone wants to come to London to engage in crime or disorder, they will be met with a swift and efficient policing response."
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Splendid lights at the Cabopino Beach, in Málaga.
The watter was quite cold but it was worthy.
Natural Light with reflectors.
Models: Eva and Alex
St. Aloysius Gonzaga rejected his family's expectation that he would join the military life; instead he decided on the religious life. He made a vow of chastity at the age of 9, and, to safeguard himself from possible temptation, he would keep his eyes persistently downcast in the presence of women.
He got a bit overzealous with self-discipline and self-denial, at one point beating himself with a leather dog leash, but when he joined the Jesuits, his spiritual director, St. Robert Bellarmine straightened him out, giving Aloysius regular hours of prayer and simple acts of self-control.
When the plague struck Rome in January 1591, the Jesuits were sent to work in the hospitals, which was tough for Aloysius since he was naturally squeamish. He overcame this, however, and went into the streets of Rome and carried the ill and the dying to the hospital on his back. Within a few weeks, he got the plague himself and died at the age of 23.
He is usually depicted with lilies and a crucifix, and sometimes with a crown at his feet.
This window is in Gesu Church in Milwaukee, WI.
Last week's hike along the ridge above the Secret Canyon trail was very pleasant and far surpassed my expectation. No sooner was I home than I was thinking about the rock dome I'd seen from that ridge. After consulting my map, I discovered that the ravine above the dome is the eponymous Secret Canyon, possibly even the source of an earlier Secret Canyon trail. I checked the surrounding landscape on google earth. The southern facing slope of the Secret Canyon ravine looked hikeable and I so I'd hike it.
Thursday I arrived at an empty parking lot. It was about 9 am. I got my things together and headed down Espinosa trail with a feeling of exuberance. It had been months and months since I'd hiked something entirely new, and not just new - intriguing, mysterious.
Pine Creek was all mine; not another soul anywhere. I'd just gotten on the Secret Canyon trail when I met my first snake - practically tripped over it stretched out across the trail. My eye darted to its tail; no rattle. So what snake was this? Its small, shiny scales were grey and patternless, its body was thick and it had a rather narrow head. It was clearly aware of me and, tongue darting, double around and languidly slid up and around a rock beside the trail. I stepped to the other side and went on. The next three miles passed quickly and soon I was eying the slope of the Secret Canyon ravine, looking for a route up. My first thought was to go further along the trail, since it rose to meet the ridge, to see if there were any user trails. As I hiked along, though, I could see that the brush on the foot of the ridge was getting denser the farther north I went. I turned around and went back to where the trail crossed the dry creek. There was still no sign of an obvious way so I shambled into the undergrowth. It turned out not to be too bad and within a few minutes I'd gotten out of the creek bed and was up onto the southern slope where the chaparral became lower and thinner. Rather than follow the creek I headed up, assuming that I'd find some sort of track along the spine of the ridge. The first outcrop of boulders, not more than 20 yards from the trail below, showed signs of having been used by migrants as a camp area. In fact, when I got around to the east side of the rocks I found a sort of cave affair. I was tempted to climb in, since there was a little ledge at the back that I was curious about, but I noticed there were rocks at the top of the crevice and I was concerned they might tumble in, so I just took a picture. I surmounted the outcrop and started my hike up the ridge. The southern facing slope below me was dry and rocky but along the crest there was a mix of laurel sumac, manzanitas, many of which had been chopped back, and chaparral. Though there was no trail, it was obvious that the ridge had always been a natural connector between the highlands above and Pine Creek below. I kept weaving my way up, sometimes dropping down a bit on along the slope, sometimes meandering among the manzanitas. All along the way there were rock spines and I kept my eyes peeled and ears perked. I was about half way up the ridge, and had just cleared a set of boulders and was about to go around another when I heard a sound like a muffled drill. I stopped and looked around my feet. I was standing on a small slab of rock about two foot square. No snakes visible. Then I saw some movement under a low rock overhang three feet away. I stood quietly and the rattling stopped. I could see three or four inches of the rattlesnake's back moving like a brown disk spinning beneath the rock. I turned and found a different way to go.
On my right, across the ravine, the rock dome was getting closer. I decided the best access to the dome would be from above rather than from below in the ravine where there thick brush and trees crowded around its base. As the ridge rose it got steeper and the ravine below deeper. I was about to climb through another spine of cracked boulders the color of dark chocolate when I noticed something unexpected. In the dirt at the foot of these rocks was a rusted, well-worn horse shoe. A nail poked from it like a single tooth. The find seemed to confirm that at some time there had been a trail along this ridge. I climbed up through the rocks. The ridge was now rising to meet the peak above. To my right a ledge of white rock cut laterally across the face of the looming hill. I made my over to the ledge and started hiking along it. This brought me above and around the backside of the dome. Unfortunately, up close the ledge turned out to be more weathered and eroded than it looked from a distance and I was forced to hike up above it. I was not along in this choice. A robust deer trail rose from the ledge and made its way across to the southern corner of the hill, just below a scarp mid-way up the slope. From here I could now see upper Secret Canyon, which lay hidden behind the hill. In fact there were two ravines that converged just below the scarp. One came straight down while the other curved around the eastern side of the hill and continued on to drain two further peaks to the north. I decided to stick with my original plan and go as far as I could along the ridge, now heading north. I climbed to the top of the hill and then hiked along another couple of hundred yards. From there, the ridge line dipped down again and then climbed up to another somewhat higher peak. However in the intervening dip the brush was fairly dense and green. I was sure I could make it out to the next peak but it would be a lot of work. Instead I decided to go back to where the upper ravines met and explore the dome.
Soon I was back at the scarp. From here looking east I could see the back side of Corte Madera. On the far side of the first ravine, the one that came straight down from above, there were several open grassy areas and I suspected these could be Indian camping spots. I scanned the ravine, looking for a reasonable way to cross but couldn't see one. I then turned my gaze to the dome just below me. The approach looked straight forward although there was a formidable manzanita grove at the near end. In a couple of minutes I was standing at the edge of the grove. There was no obvious path skirting the grove so I had to just jump in. The manzanitas were well over my head and once in the bushes I made pretty good headway. At times it was a bit like climbing through a jungle-jim, but there was very little undergrowth and the manzanitas were reasonably spread out. It might have taken me 15 minutes to cross beneath the 20 yards of canopy. When I finally pushed through the last branches, I was a couple feet from a ring of rocks, possibly left there by hunters. I wandered around the dome, whose surface was crisscrossed by large cracks. There were many interesting things there. I was getting ready to leave and had just come around the far side of a large oak bush growing from one of the cracks when I noticed something poking out of the pile of leaves beneath it. I crawled to it; a large pestle protruded from the duff. I cleared away the leaves and uncovered a deep mortar. Finding the pestle propped in the mortar, as if its user was called away and never returned, gave me an eerie, melancholy feeling.
I elbowed my way through the mazanita braches and back under the grove's canopy. I took a little more time now as I climbed through the bushes, looking around and enjoying the grove. Though I hadn't planned it, I emerged at virtually the same spot I'd first entered. I headed for the slope of the hill and then for the white ledge. I undershot it and had to scramble up twenty yards; it was gratifying when I found the deer trail I'd followed earlier. Soon I was descending the ridge, often stepping in my own foot prints. After an hour or so I was back down to the Secret Canyon trail and started heading south. Now that I was down in the canyon I realized how low the sun was. When I got on a fairly even part of the trail I started, for lack of a better term, loping or trotting - a kind of walk/run with my knees bent, my shoulders squared, and my arms kept down at my sides. This gliding stride was much faster than walking and I could do it without breathing hard. Keeping my arms down and shoulders squared prevented the pack from bouncing back and forth. I was able to keep this up for nearly half the five miles back. When I arrived at the car the sun had already descended behind the Alpine hills. It was 7 pm; a ten hour hike.
The expectation of a Thunderstorm drew me into the Sierra with hedging my bet by camping at Tioga Pass (10,000 feet) where I had options in the morning, west into Yosemite or east into the Mono Basin.
Where would the weather be, yep Mono Basin. I arrived in the dark following Gaia GPS with no idea what morning would bring, my perch at day break commanded a 360 view of color.
View South toward Mammoth Lakes - Mono Basin, California
‘Here lyeth in hope and expectation of that joyful day of the resurrection, when the Saviour of the whole World shall appear in power and judgment, to awake all those who have slept in him, to be pertakers of the everlasting blessedness of his eternal kingdom, Sir Wymond Carye of Snettesham in the county of Norfolk Kt. sometime of Thremhall Priory in Essex, first branch of that family of the Carys which is descended from Edmund Beanford, duke of Somerset, and so from John of Gaunt duke of Lancaster, erected by his only brother, Sir Edward Carye of Aldenham in Hertfordshire, master and treasurer of his majesties jewels and plate, and of Sir Henry Carye of C — in Bucks, son and heir of the said Sir Edward Carye joynt executor of the last will of Sir Wymond Carye, who lived about 75 years, & in peace and happiness and in the comfortable testimony of a good conscience and stedfast faith in Christ, died April 3, 1612.’
Lying on a huge monument flic.kr/p/tWipyH in the Emmanual chapel of the north transept which he had reduced c1597 along with the demolition of the chancel, is Sir Wymond Carye 1612.
Born in 1537, he was the eldest son of Vice Admiral Sir John Cary 1552 of Hunsdon & Cockington & Joyce daughter of Sir Edmund Denny of Cheshunt and 2nd wife Mary daughter and coheir of Robert Troutbeck of Bridge Trafford, Chester. Well connected, Joyce was the widow of William Walsingham and mother of Sir Francis Walsingham spymaster for Queen Elizabeth . She was also the sister of Anthony Denny, groom of the stool to Henry Vlll who m Joan Champernowne, cousin to Katherine Ashley née Champernowne, the governess of the future Queen Elizabeth
Through his father Wymond was the nephew of William Carey 1st husband of Mary Boleyn sister of Queen Anne Boleyn
Sir Wymond who was knighted at Whitehall in 1604, had rented the lordship of the manor from the Crown under Queen Elizabeth and James I, it was later acquired outright by his nephew Sir Henry Carye in 1614.
Aged at least 50, he m Catherine Jernegan coheiress daughter of John Jernegan of Somerleyton who was the widow of Henry Crane 1586 of Chilton, Suffolk with a son Robert Crane 1643 flic.kr/p/nD5wiM
Wymond & Catherine had no children
HOWEVER a Sir Wymond Carye styled " Lord Warden of ye Stanneries, Master of ye First Fruits Office, & Knight of ye Bath" fathered a child Jayne Davys who was the mother of Mary wife of Sir Gilbert Prynne 1627 of Chippenham flic.kr/p/61UL8F
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Carey_(courtier) - Church of St. Mary Snettisham Norfolk
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
expectation :: i find it's easy for me to expect too much some days... from myself, from my children... paying attention to how i feel in those moments where expectations don't match reality, taking time to get at why, taking time to breathe deep and long...
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
Well, we're just over half way through December, with a bit over a week left before Santa starts dropping packages. Finally officially on break, and looking forward to some expectation free time so I'm able to finish up a few outstanding things, including some toy write ups. We start with a figure I've been eluding for a while - SH Figuarts Dragonball Z - Majin Vegeta.
If you've been paying attention to the Dragonball line, you're probably aware that at some point, they are literally going to make every character possible because lets face it, SOMEONE will buy it. So it's no surprise that Tamashi Nations has gone ahead and produced a pretty much every Vegeta that I can think of, including Majin Vegeta, a corrupted version of Vegeta that shows up in the last Dragonball Z arc, the Majin Buu saga, where he "accepts help" from Babadi, an evil wizard with, what else, aspirations of universal domination. A bit of a disclaimer: this is actually the second version of Vegeta I wanted from the Z line, with gold old Super Saiyan 2 from the Cell Saga being my top want list, but hey, when an opportunity shows up for a relatively cheap version of Majin Vegeta, I generally jump on it. Majin Vegeta is visually distinct from all other iterations with the slight addition of more mascara, and of course, that giant "M" on his forehead. Oh, and generally having more veins popping all over his body.
I don't think the armourless/sleeveless look is specific to Majin Vegeta.
Majn Vegeta comes with a surprising number of face plates, 5 in total, ranging from neutral to full on raging. There are only 5 additional hands, which will get you through most poses, but my most desired piece, the crossed arm, was not a part of this, which is unfortunate given that Vegeta and Picolo basically own that pose throughout the entire Dragonball Z series. Otherwise, yep, once again no flight stand and no energy effects.
Officially this is my first time picking up any Vegeta 2.0, but I do own the originally much sought after Premium Colour version of Vegeta. Even for back in the day, the likeness to Vegeta was always iffy at best, and sucked compared. The newer Vegetas feature wider faces, larger eyes, and a fuller set of hair (even on the non Super Saiyan scouter Vegeta version. It goes without saying that the overall silhouette is vastly improved and more resembles the on screen model, with better proportions and much better muscle definition on the body itself. Yes, the diaper on the newer figures are more visually distracting, but the trade off is a vastly improved posing game.
Speaking of posing, the joints gang is back in what is probably these most articulated body produced by Tamashi Nations. You have toe, ankles, double jointed knees, hips which are located such that you have a greater range of motion with additional plastic parts to fill in the gap, waist, mid toros, full motion shoulders with dedicated chest collapse joint, bicep swivel, double jointed elbows, wrists, neck, and head. Overall, an impressive array of options, much like the recently looked at Joseph Joestar and the Medicos body, and very much like the vast majority of the Dragonball line in the 2.0 era. Combined with a flight stand and some energy effects, you should be able to do a great variety of battle actions and replicate your favourite scenes from the series or, if you're bored like, given Hentai Woody a hard time.
Paint wise, the amount of paint on the figure doesn't look particularly like a lot, but I suspect that's not actually the case. Looks to me like the fleshtones are painted as is most of the faces, the hair, the blue of the abdomen and pant legs, as well as the various white cuffs and the hands themselves. Not sure why the upper part of the torso blue is unpainted, and I suspect due to wear issues they didn't bother painting the pelvic area. In general, paint is pretty crisp and clean, with the exception of the eye sore that is the masking for the upper shirt area and the chest. Masking on the hair and eyes, thankfully, is on point because flaws there would be very apparent. Decal work is also sharp and crisp, and the facial expressions themselves are very Majin Vegeta and convey the character quite well.
No complaints from a build quality perspective, as expected. Joints are solid and will hold whatever pose you decide to put them in. No issues with poor tolerance on gaps, uneven limb length, or other things that make you cringe at the fact you just dropped $60 on an action figure. You're gonna find your typical assembly seams, though they are generally hidden from view and more importantly, look like they've had some sanding work done as to not stick out like a giant scar.
The Dragonball line of SH Figuarts is pretty much their flagship product offering, and it's good to see that unlike some other companies with a monopoly on their licenses, Tamashi Nations doesn't screw around. They've consistently delivered amazing figures that invoke memories of their on screen appearances which are able to look and act like their "real life counterparts". As always, my only real complaint is that I wish they came with more, specifically an energy effect and a flight stand. Otherwise, if the price is right, I never have qualms about blindly picking up one of these releases. I know some people are gonna have their reservations about joints and what not but considering what the figures can do, visible joints are well worth it.
.... in expectation of the arrival of float of St. Agatha ....
.... in l'attesa dell'arrivo della vara di Sant'Agata ....
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Fear of the unknown, the fear of losing own physical or mental health, or worse, having already lost it, possible problems with work (if a work has it), old age advancing, awareness of the existence of a Higher Being, are just some of the reasons that push people to search for a contact with the Divine, with the supernatural, leading them to plead for help, but this is not enough to completely explain the close link fact of absolute devotion and enormous affection that the people of Catania (province) have towards their young martyr Agatha; an entire city partecipate in these days to ceremony and procession, one can not help but ask this question, what binds in such a profound and peculiar citizens to their Patron Saint Agata? Maybe I was lucky enough to capture photographically what is a partial response: a child at a very early age is brought to the window from her mother while passing the float of St. Agatha, so it's easy to understand... the devotion and attachment to the Martyr starts very young , transmitted by their parents as a treasure to be preserved and grow throughout their lives, which leads you in the days of the feast to a great collective.
This is a short-long report I did this year 2016, in the city of Catania (Sicily) in occasion of the feast of her patron saint Agatha, which took place on the 3, 4 and 5 February (this dates commemorates the martyrdom of the young Saint), and on 17 August too (this date celebrates the return to Catania of her remains, after these had been transferred to Constantinople by the Byzantine general Maniaces as war booty, and there remained for 86 years), when the Sicilian city is dressed up to feast, with a scent of orange blossom and mandarins, and its citizens show that they possess an extraordinary love and bond with the young martyr saint Agatha.
The religious sicilian feast of Saint Agatha is the most important feast of Catania, its inhabitants from five centuries, during the three days of the feast in honor of her "Santuzza" (young Saint), create a unique setting, with celebrations and rituals impressive, which means that this event is regarded as the third religious festival in the world (some say the second ...) after the "Semana Santa" in Seville and the "Corpus Christi" in Cuzco, Peru. Unlike other religious holidays, more sober, to Sant'Agata highlights a vocation exuberant typical of the south Italy, who loves to combine the sacred with the profane.
The cult of the young Santa dates back to the third century, when the teenager Agatha was martyred for refusing the roman proconsul Quintiziano. One year after the death of the young Agatha, on 5 February of the year 252, his virginal veil was carried in procession, and it is said it was able to save Catania from destruction due to a devastating eruption of Mount Etna.
The festivities begin with the procession of Candlemas (this year were in greater number, perhaps 14 instead of the 11 years of the other years); the "Candlemas" are giant Baroque wooden "candlesticks" paintings in gold, each representing an ancient guild (butchers, fishmongers, grocers, greengrocers, etc.), which are brought by eight devotees; the "cannalore" (candlemas) anticipate the arrival of the "float" of Saint Agatha during the procession. Devotees, men and women, wearing a traditional garment similar to a white bag, cinched at the waist by a black rope, gloves and a white handkerchief, and a black velvet cap, and it seems that such clothing evoke nightgown with the qule the Catanese, awakened with a start by the touch of the bells of the Cathedral, welcomed the naval port, in 1126, the relics of the Holy which fell from Constantinople. On float, consisting of a silver chariot sixteenth of thirty tons, which is driven by a double and long line of devotees with the robust and long ropes, takes place the bust of Saint Agatha, completely covered with precious stones and jewels. On February 4, the parade celebrates the so-called "external path" that touches some places of martyrdom in the city of Catania; the next day, the 5 instead the procession along the "aristocrat path", which runs along the main street, Via Etnea, the parlor of Catania. On this day the devotees carry on their shoulders the long candles of varying thickness, there are some not very big, others are fairly heavy, but some skim exceptional weights.
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La paura dell’ignoto, il timore di perdere la salute fisica o psichica, o peggio, averla già persa, possibili problemi col lavoro (per chi un lavora l’ha) o peggio non averlo dovendo così “inventarsi” la giornata, la vecchiaia che avanza, la consapevolezza dell’esistenza di un Essere Superiore, sono solo alcuni dei motivi che spingono gli uomini a cercare un contatto col Divino, col Sovrannaturale, portandoli ad invocare il Suo aiuto, ma tutto ciò non basta assolutamente a spiegare lo stretto legame fatto di assoluta devozione ed enorme attaccamento che gli abitanti di Catania (e provincia) hanno nei confronti della loro “Santuzza” la giovanissima martire Agata; nel vedere partecipare quella che sembra essere una città intera a questi giorni di rito e processione, non ci si può non porre questa domanda, cosa lega in maniera così profonda e peculiare i cittadini Catanesi alla loro Santa Patrona Agata? Forse ho avuto la fortuna di cogliere fotograficamente quella che è una risposta parziale e certamente non unica alla domanda: un bimbo in tenerissima età viene portato alla finestra dalla sua mamma mentre passa la vara di S.Agata, ecco… la devozione e l’attaccamento alla giovanissima Martire inizia da piccolissimi, trasmessa dai propri genitori (e non solo…) come un tesoro da custodire e coltivare per tutta la vita, che porta che nei giorni della festa ad un fantastico rito collettivo al quale nessun Catanese sembra non possa o non voglia rinunciare.
Questa è un breve e lungo report, da me realizzato nel febbraio di quest’anno 2015, nella città di Catania (Sicilia) in occasione della festa della sua giovane santa patrona Agata, che ha avuto luogo come ogni anno il 3, il 4 ed il 5 di febbraio (questa data commemora il martirio della Santa giovinetta), festa che viene ripetuta anche il 17 agosto (questa data rievoca il ritorno a Catania delle sue spoglie, dopo che queste erano state trasferite a Costantinopoli da parte del generale bizantino Maniace come bottino di guerra, spoglie che ivi rimasero per 86 anni); per questa occasione la città siciliana è vestita a festa con profumi di fiori d'arancio e mandarini, coi suoi cittadini che mostrano di possedere uno straordinario amore e legame con la giovane martire Agata.
Gli abitanti di Catania, oramai da cinque secoli, nei tre giorni della festa in onore della "Santuzza", danno vita ad una scenografia unica, con celebrazioni e riti imponenti, che fanno si che questo evento sia considerato come la terza festa religiosa al mondo (qualcuno dice la seconda ...) dopo la "Semana Santa" di Siviglia ed il "Corpus Domini" a Cuzco, in Perù. A differenza di altre feste religiose, più sobrie, quella di Sant'Agata mette in luce una vocazione esuberante tipica del meridione, che ama unire il sacro col profano.
Il culto della giovane Santa risale al terzo secolo, quando l'adolescente Agata fu martirizzata per aver rifiutato il proconsole romano Quintiziano. Un anno dopo la morte della giovane Agata, avvenuta il 5 febbraio dell'anno 252, il suo velo virginale venne portato in processione, e si narra esso riuscì a salvare Catania dalla sua distruzione a causa di una devastante eruzione del vulcano Etna.
I festeggiamenti iniziano con il corteo delle "candelore", queste sono dei giganteschi e pesanti "candelabri" in legno, in stile barocco, dipinti in oro, ognuna rappresentante una antica corporazione (macellai, pescivendoli, pizzicagnoli, fruttivendoli, ecc.), che vengono portati da otto devoti, le quali "cannalore" durante la processione anticipano l'arrivo della "vara" di Sant'Agata. I devoti, sia donne che uomini, indossano un tipico indumento simile ad un sacco bianco, stretto in vita da una cordicella nera, guanti ed un fazzoletto bianchi, ed infine una papalina di velluto nero, sembra che tale abbigliamento rievochi la camicia da notte con la quale i Catanesi, svegliatisi di soprassalto dal tocco improvviso delle campane del Duomo, accolsero al porto navale, nel 1126, le reliquie della Santa che rientravano da Costantinopoli. Sulla vara, costituita da un carro argentato cinquecentesco di trenta quintali, trainata da una doppia e lunghissima fila di devoti tramite delle robuste e lunghe funi, prende posto il busto di Sant'Agata, completamente ricoperto di pietre preziose e gioielli. Il 4 febbraio, il corteo compie il cosiddetto "giro esterno" che tocca alcuni luoghi del martirio nella città catanese; il giorno dopo, il 5, il corteo percorre il "giro aristocratico", che percorre la strada principale, la via Etnea, salotto buono di Catania. In questo giorno i devoti portano in spalla dei lunghi ceri di vario spessore, ce ne sono alcuni non molto grossi, altri sono discretamente pesanti, ma alcuni sfiorano pesi eccezionali.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
Everyone loves to hate Hong Kong Disneyland. The media reviles the park and serves it up as tabloid fodder, reveling in an orgy of cruel delight with every single hiring misstep and every missed attendance goal. Local citizens, with whom my conversations have yielded much anecdotal evidence, also have voiced their displeasure, mostly over the park's size - too small - and its demographics - too many mainlanders. So it was with these pejorative impressions, this cacophony of complaints simmering in my imagination, that I passed warily through the gates of the Magic Kingdom, in cautious expectation of unfulfilled promises and inexorable bores. What I got, however, to my pleasant surprise and veritable enjoyment, was an afternoon and evening spent in the company of great friends amidst all sorts of amusements, an outing that easily summited any acclivity of entertainment previously established in my mind.
There were rides, lots of them, on which my friends and I spent much time frolicking like little children in whose hands are new toys. We actually spent more time on the rides than on the lines to board them, which surprised me, and added to the allure of the place. Every attraction, whether it was Space Mountain or Small World, whether it was the crazy tea cups or Pooh's dyslexic, whole-language reading adventure, was accessible without having to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting, and that's a good thing. We spent about one-minute in line for my favorite ride, Buzz Light Year's space voyage - a real-life first-person shooter. In general, I think can queue for ten minutes in order to go on a two-minute ride, any day, no problem.
Not only were the rides, and their queues impressive; the shows, too, were of such outstanding quality that our merry band contrived meticulously to attend them, twice even. Our friend lady B, whose initial plan we had followed to come to Disney and by whose handiwork we were granted free admittance, performed marvelously at the Golden Mickeys, a captivating drama involving physical feats of daring, risky dancing, plenty of singing and of course many of Walt's freaky, life-sized animals. From the audience, we cheered lustily for our friend and her fellow performers who went through a medley of Disney's greatest soundtracks and scenes. Other seated-performances that we attended, including the Stitch game and the 4D symphony orchestra, moreover delivered hilarity and sensory thrills. The High School Musical outdoor rally, my favorite, was an engrossing confluence of infectious beats, rhythmic dancing and filipino goodwill. Indeed, there was not a single misfire in all of the super live-action and animated spectacles we viewed. Engrossed audiences laughed, clapped and cheered wildly.
Who can forget the evening's main events, the night parade and the fireworks? So desperately did we desire prime seating that we scouted and camped our positions as though settlers rushing through a frontier, assiduously scanning and then demarcating our territory. We would not be denied a gorgeous view of the evening's entertainment. And when it came time for the performances, that the shows did touch the ethereal heights of our lofty expectations only added to ecstasy of being like a child, in awe and wonder, of the world around us. The Disney magic verily cast its spell on us, suspending our maturity for the welcomed digestion of a deep palette of colors set to slick choreography. Neither the Halloween parade (and the accompanying ghoulish, nighttime frights in Adventureland) nor the fireworks extravaganza should be missed.
Finally, as much as firsthand experience has proven its worth in debunking deplorable myths and conjectures about Hong Kong Disneyland (e.g. the park is too small; there are too many mainlanders), much of the myth-shattering and debunkment in my own received opinion came from eloquent discourse with past and present Disney cast members, from whom I learned about the pricing structure of Disney merchandise and foods - and why both seem to be presumptuously expensive - and whose words, combined with my own experience in the park, confirm the notion that Disney works hard to adjust its brand for cultural differences, though in the case of Hong Kong, the company still has much to demonstrate before a critical local audience.
David Moyes on the touchline at Old Trafford during Rio Ferdinand's Testimonial.
The Alex Ferguson stand looming over him.
First home game didn't go quite to plan with Manchester United getting beat 1-3 by Sevilla. Was a great family occasion however earning plenty of funds for worthwhile causes.
"In Expectation: These Vietnamese youngsters listen to loudspeakers after being relocated to a holding center during Operation Bold Mariner, conducted by elements of the 26th Marine Regiment. The villagers were moved to safety before the Leathernecks began hunting the Viet Cong infrastructure on the Batangan Peninsula in Quang Ngai province (official USMC photo by Gunnery Sergeant R. L. Moore)."
From the Jonathan F. Abel Collection (COLL/3611), Marine Corps Archives & Special Collections
OFFICIAL USMC PHOTOGRAPH
.... in expectation of the arrival of float of St. Agatha ....
.... in l'attesa dell'arrivo della vara di Sant'Agata ....
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Fear of the unknown, the fear of losing own physical or mental health, or worse, having already lost it, possible problems with work (if a work has it), old age advancing, awareness of the existence of a Higher Being, are just some of the reasons that push people to search for a contact with the Divine, with the supernatural, leading them to plead for help, but this is not enough to completely explain the close link fact of absolute devotion and enormous affection that the people of Catania (province) have towards their young martyr Agatha; an entire city partecipate in these days to ceremony and procession, one can not help but ask this question, what binds in such a profound and peculiar citizens to their Patron Saint Agata? Maybe I was lucky enough to capture photographically what is a partial response: a child at a very early age is brought to the window from her mother while passing the float of St. Agatha, so it's easy to understand... the devotion and attachment to the Martyr starts very young , transmitted by their parents as a treasure to be preserved and grow throughout their lives, which leads you in the days of the feast to a great collective.
This is a short-long report I did this year 2016, in the city of Catania (Sicily) in occasion of the feast of her patron saint Agatha, which took place on the 3, 4 and 5 February (this dates commemorates the martyrdom of the young Saint), and on 17 August too (this date celebrates the return to Catania of her remains, after these had been transferred to Constantinople by the Byzantine general Maniaces as war booty, and there remained for 86 years), when the Sicilian city is dressed up to feast, with a scent of orange blossom and mandarins, and its citizens show that they possess an extraordinary love and bond with the young martyr saint Agatha.
The religious sicilian feast of Saint Agatha is the most important feast of Catania, its inhabitants from five centuries, during the three days of the feast in honor of her "Santuzza" (young Saint), create a unique setting, with celebrations and rituals impressive, which means that this event is regarded as the third religious festival in the world (some say the second ...) after the "Semana Santa" in Seville and the "Corpus Christi" in Cuzco, Peru. Unlike other religious holidays, more sober, to Sant'Agata highlights a vocation exuberant typical of the south Italy, who loves to combine the sacred with the profane.
The cult of the young Santa dates back to the third century, when the teenager Agatha was martyred for refusing the roman proconsul Quintiziano. One year after the death of the young Agatha, on 5 February of the year 252, his virginal veil was carried in procession, and it is said it was able to save Catania from destruction due to a devastating eruption of Mount Etna.
The festivities begin with the procession of Candlemas (this year were in greater number, perhaps 14 instead of the 11 years of the other years); the "Candlemas" are giant Baroque wooden "candlesticks" paintings in gold, each representing an ancient guild (butchers, fishmongers, grocers, greengrocers, etc.), which are brought by eight devotees; the "cannalore" (candlemas) anticipate the arrival of the "float" of Saint Agatha during the procession. Devotees, men and women, wearing a traditional garment similar to a white bag, cinched at the waist by a black rope, gloves and a white handkerchief, and a black velvet cap, and it seems that such clothing evoke nightgown with the qule the Catanese, awakened with a start by the touch of the bells of the Cathedral, welcomed the naval port, in 1126, the relics of the Holy which fell from Constantinople. On float, consisting of a silver chariot sixteenth of thirty tons, which is driven by a double and long line of devotees with the robust and long ropes, takes place the bust of Saint Agatha, completely covered with precious stones and jewels. On February 4, the parade celebrates the so-called "external path" that touches some places of martyrdom in the city of Catania; the next day, the 5 instead the procession along the "aristocrat path", which runs along the main street, Via Etnea, the parlor of Catania. On this day the devotees carry on their shoulders the long candles of varying thickness, there are some not very big, others are fairly heavy, but some skim exceptional weights.
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La paura dell’ignoto, il timore di perdere la salute fisica o psichica, o peggio, averla già persa, possibili problemi col lavoro (per chi un lavora l’ha) o peggio non averlo dovendo così “inventarsi” la giornata, la vecchiaia che avanza, la consapevolezza dell’esistenza di un Essere Superiore, sono solo alcuni dei motivi che spingono gli uomini a cercare un contatto col Divino, col Sovrannaturale, portandoli ad invocare il Suo aiuto, ma tutto ciò non basta assolutamente a spiegare lo stretto legame fatto di assoluta devozione ed enorme attaccamento che gli abitanti di Catania (e provincia) hanno nei confronti della loro “Santuzza” la giovanissima martire Agata; nel vedere partecipare quella che sembra essere una città intera a questi giorni di rito e processione, non ci si può non porre questa domanda, cosa lega in maniera così profonda e peculiare i cittadini Catanesi alla loro Santa Patrona Agata? Forse ho avuto la fortuna di cogliere fotograficamente quella che è una risposta parziale e certamente non unica alla domanda: un bimbo in tenerissima età viene portato alla finestra dalla sua mamma mentre passa la vara di S.Agata, ecco… la devozione e l’attaccamento alla giovanissima Martire inizia da piccolissimi, trasmessa dai propri genitori (e non solo…) come un tesoro da custodire e coltivare per tutta la vita, che porta che nei giorni della festa ad un fantastico rito collettivo al quale nessun Catanese sembra non possa o non voglia rinunciare.
Questa è un breve e lungo report, da me realizzato nel febbraio di quest’anno 2015, nella città di Catania (Sicilia) in occasione della festa della sua giovane santa patrona Agata, che ha avuto luogo come ogni anno il 3, il 4 ed il 5 di febbraio (questa data commemora il martirio della Santa giovinetta), festa che viene ripetuta anche il 17 agosto (questa data rievoca il ritorno a Catania delle sue spoglie, dopo che queste erano state trasferite a Costantinopoli da parte del generale bizantino Maniace come bottino di guerra, spoglie che ivi rimasero per 86 anni); per questa occasione la città siciliana è vestita a festa con profumi di fiori d'arancio e mandarini, coi suoi cittadini che mostrano di possedere uno straordinario amore e legame con la giovane martire Agata.
Gli abitanti di Catania, oramai da cinque secoli, nei tre giorni della festa in onore della "Santuzza", danno vita ad una scenografia unica, con celebrazioni e riti imponenti, che fanno si che questo evento sia considerato come la terza festa religiosa al mondo (qualcuno dice la seconda ...) dopo la "Semana Santa" di Siviglia ed il "Corpus Domini" a Cuzco, in Perù. A differenza di altre feste religiose, più sobrie, quella di Sant'Agata mette in luce una vocazione esuberante tipica del meridione, che ama unire il sacro col profano.
Il culto della giovane Santa risale al terzo secolo, quando l'adolescente Agata fu martirizzata per aver rifiutato il proconsole romano Quintiziano. Un anno dopo la morte della giovane Agata, avvenuta il 5 febbraio dell'anno 252, il suo velo virginale venne portato in processione, e si narra esso riuscì a salvare Catania dalla sua distruzione a causa di una devastante eruzione del vulcano Etna.
I festeggiamenti iniziano con il corteo delle "candelore", queste sono dei giganteschi e pesanti "candelabri" in legno, in stile barocco, dipinti in oro, ognuna rappresentante una antica corporazione (macellai, pescivendoli, pizzicagnoli, fruttivendoli, ecc.), che vengono portati da otto devoti, le quali "cannalore" durante la processione anticipano l'arrivo della "vara" di Sant'Agata. I devoti, sia donne che uomini, indossano un tipico indumento simile ad un sacco bianco, stretto in vita da una cordicella nera, guanti ed un fazzoletto bianchi, ed infine una papalina di velluto nero, sembra che tale abbigliamento rievochi la camicia da notte con la quale i Catanesi, svegliatisi di soprassalto dal tocco improvviso delle campane del Duomo, accolsero al porto navale, nel 1126, le reliquie della Santa che rientravano da Costantinopoli. Sulla vara, costituita da un carro argentato cinquecentesco di trenta quintali, trainata da una doppia e lunghissima fila di devoti tramite delle robuste e lunghe funi, prende posto il busto di Sant'Agata, completamente ricoperto di pietre preziose e gioielli. Il 4 febbraio, il corteo compie il cosiddetto "giro esterno" che tocca alcuni luoghi del martirio nella città catanese; il giorno dopo, il 5, il corteo percorre il "giro aristocratico", che percorre la strada principale, la via Etnea, salotto buono di Catania. In questo giorno i devoti portano in spalla dei lunghi ceri di vario spessore, ce ne sono alcuni non molto grossi, altri sono discretamente pesanti, ma alcuni sfiorano pesi eccezionali.