View allAll Photos Tagged Misunderstanding,
Little group of space treasure hunters called "Red Oblivion" simply couldn't find out a way to work this problem out in more assertive way..
"It's only a minor misunderstanding associated with the distribution of goods.." - that was his last words before his upper part of robotic body jumped into the air avoiding the blast..
Our Daily Challenge ... words.
The only store still open is the supermarket right down at the end.
Sorry a misunderstanding ... closed for the day only ... it was 6.00 pm.
bumblebee in the flowers of a garden on spruce street, cabbagetown.
in other news, it's been noted that mayor mcbigot has been hanging around with neo-nazis (other than those belonging to federal and provincial conservative parties). the white supremacist, true to form, claims that he isn't a bigot, in much the same manner that the mayor makes similar claims. since the magic of the internet is available, though, it's been easily proven over and over that jon latvis is a filthy fucking racist and like all bigots, doesn't have the courage to stand up for his odious beliefs when a light is shone on him. mayor rob ford, similarly cried out that it was all a big misunderstanding that he met with a neo-nazi - twice - and that the big mean media was once again picking on him unfairly.
bullshit. latvis played lead guitar and other instruments for rahowa, a white supremacist band, and wrote many of their lyrics. from 1990 on, latvis was a member of the band, has never divorced himself from their disgusting beliefs (until just now, and only in the form of lying about his history), and wrote many of their most bigoted songs. oh, and he has a tattoo of a swastika, which he claims is really a 'cross of thunder'. sure, kid. and your song triumph of the will is really all about rik emmett rewriting shakespeare.
as for ford, he's a stupid fucking liar, a bigot and like his skinhead buddy, too much of a chickenshit coward to stand up and say what he believes. instead, he expects that the right-wing press will play down the story, excuse his unforgiveable behaviour and make accusations against the people who brought the topic out in the open.
many thanks to anti-racist canada for starting the ball rolling, and to warren kinsella for spreading the story around. now magazine has pushed the news along after the usual assholes at the national post did nothing but claim that kinsella is a liberal spin doctor (no, they really made that a big point in their write-up), that ford loves meeting with citizens (as long as they're also hateful bigots), and restated the ridiculous claim that latvis gave ford and his handlers a different name. yeah, i'm sure that latvis bothered to engage in subterfuge because everyone knows that fuckhead ford would have checked into his background and been very professional about matters. the final claim from the ford (concentration) camp is also ridiculous - apparently latvis wanted to discuss transit with the mayor. no word on whether latvis and ford discussed shipping dissidents and other unsavoury characters to prison camps in boxcars, but i'm sure the mayor's office would just describe that as an improvement on lrts.
it's been interesting to watch the reaction from the city's jewish community. unfortunately the jewish press skews pro-conservative, and the mayor's henchmen were quick to offer an apology to the centre for israel and jewish affairs. cija, of course, quickly restated many of the points that the morons at the national post made, including an attempt to discredit kinsella. it's interesting that cija would brush aside rob ford's connection to a neo-nazi. politics does indeed make strange bedfellows, and i suppose it must just be expedient for a jewish advocacy group to make light of antisemitic hate group representatives when they are invited to meet with local politicians. true friends, indeed.
this fucking bigot ford needs to be removed from office. you might not be queer, jewish, female, a cyclist, a library user, a union member, italian, or a member of any other group who fuckface ford clearly hates, but as long as you're not a bigot, it's obvious that he is not a decent human being or fit for public office.
John cross-trained from Security Police, having served in that career field on the tail end of the misunderstandings in Southeast Asia.
We found the sign in one of the residence kitchens, stuck to the door of the dishwasher - clearly the last user wanted to avoid any misunderstandings about the state of the dishes within. My friend - an easy going guy and an awesome cook who feels most at home when he's shirtless and barefoot in the kitchen - agreed to pose for this shot
HFVM! Happy Twinie's day! Been through good and bad times, been through understanding, misunderstanding and understanding, all that we've had are precious...
She likes bokeh. And bokeh is sparklingly beautiful but it's difficult to touch...
Love you enough to stay by your side (hopefully) forever. Though sometimes we need time to reset the button...
ILU!
Cari colleghi, (perché questo siamo e saremo vero? Qualcuno ha dubbi da sollevare?) avevo sinceramente deciso di non commentare, perché diciamocelo, i social network si prestano a spiacevoli misunderstanding, ma come dice Laura qualche post sopra rabbrividisco a leggere alcuni commenti.
Ebbene sì direi che rabbrividire è il termine esatto, perché qui – e perdonatemi se la butto un po’ sull’etica – stiamo parlando di un gruppo di studenti, è vero, ma a mio parere stiamo parlando soprattutto di futuri medici. E ora vi spiego perché faccio questa distinzione.
A mio parere si è perso di vista il punto focale: noi non siamo solo chiamati ad essere “studenti meritevoli”, ma al contrario di altre categorie siamo chiamati a “studiare per essere buoni medici”. Non penso di essere tra gli studenti meritevoli, ma penso sicuramente di essere tra quelli fortunati. Quelli che hanno avuto la fortuna di avere genitori in grado di pagare l’intero corso di studi senza essere costretti a lavorare, quelli che non si sono scontrati con forza con la vita e le sue sfighe, ma anche con la vita in generale.
Non mi sento assolutamente di giudicare come più meritevole nessuno di noi. Penso che chiunque si sia fatto il culo e abbia fatto le proprie scelte, in scienza e coscienza.
Trovo assurdo e preoccupante che si parli di studenti meritevoli e credibili, perdendo totalmente di vista quella che è la cosa più importante del nostro lavoro, e cioè che siamo “persone” che avranno a che fare con altre “persone”, sia che siano colleghi sia che siano malati.
Quello che sta sfuggendo a tutto questo discorso è un concetto di rispetto reciproco, tra pari (quali noi siamo) e tra categorie. Io so che a salvarmi il culo sarà l’infermiere di turno il mio primo anno di specializzazione, che probabilmente ha studiato meno della metà di tutta la teoria che ho incamerato in sei anni, ma che tratta con i pazienti da almeno venti. Lui sa che faccia ha uno con un infarto, mentre io sarò ancora tutta presa a cercare un sottoslivellamento st che magari neanche c’è. So anche che cercherò quanto più spesso l’opinione di altri, che magari hanno studiato con me, o che magari hanno più esperienza anche se si sono laureati dopo, ma che hanno più sangue freddo, più manualità, più faccia tosta, più esperienza tecnica, perché ci stanno insegnando a conoscere tutto, in modo che assomiglia spaventosamente ad una pretesa di onniscienza che sappiamo non essere reale.
So che per il vecchietto che mi sorride ogni giorno in reparto è più importante che io sia gentile e mi fermi a chiedergli dei suoi nipoti, che non quale sia il mio voto in clinica medica, mentre per il figlio, spaventato dalla mia giovane età e dalla mia faccia pulita, che sia veramente a conoscenza del mio lavoro e sia aggiornata il più possibile.
Tutta questa guerra tra poveri (cit.) mi spaventa. Perché penso sia proprio accusandoci tra noi e non essendo uniti nel nostro piccolo che perdiamo di merito e credibilità. Anche come futuri professionisti.
Abbiamo un rappresentante che ci supporta (e sopporta) e non si fa i cazzi suoi (perché diciamocelo, abbiamo avuto anche questi), ma invece di sfruttare la cosa ho sentito accuse pesanti e frasi poco adeguate sul suo conto, solo perché di fatto è intervenuta in una faccenda che molti di noi consideravano quantomeno spinosa (se non vergognosa).
Abbiamo la forza della collettività, ma la perdiamo facendo campanilismo sterile e perseguendo i nostri obiettivi fregandocene degli altri.
So che tutto questo puzza di retorica. Ma spero che in un qualche modo riesca ad illuminarvi sulle mie paure. La paura di creare una nuova classe medica esattamente identica a quella dei fantomatici baroni di ogni giorno, che non solo accettano ma anzi facilitano queste piccole guerre, creando tanti piccoli cloni dimentichi dell’umanità e dell’importanza del gioco di squadra nella nostra professione.
Sono romantica. E credo ancora che salveremo il mondo. Che uno di noi riceverà un Nobel per aver curato un qualche male incurabile e tutti assieme miglioreremo questo clima di merda che si sta instaurando nel nostro paese. Perdonatemi ma credo che il crederci (assonanza poetica!) mi porti ad essere una persona migliore nel mio piccolo. Non migliore di qualcun altro, ma migliore di quanto non sarei se non ci credessi.
Dreaming yours,
Francesca
Griboux, a few years before feline leukemia took him, appropriately relaxing -as if to avoid any misunderstanding- on a book entitled "The Cat" (french: Le Chat). Not a set-up.
Another one of my old photos. I forgot to bring my camera to the beach :( so I won't be uploading any new ones.
Anyways, I took this photo at a restaurant.
I was trying to take a picture of a pretty huge chandelier they had there but I didn't notice there was a couple that thought I was taking pictures of them… I took a couple more pictures (including this one) and then I just looked at them, smiled and gave them a thumbs up =P
I guess they were wondering if it was any good. But they will never know… muahahaha!!!
Hope you like it :)
Scott Hurst, a junior in music, and Jacqueline Evans, a senior in music, play bickering characters who were once married on Tuesday, Apr. 5, at Fisher Theater. A misunderstanding led them to fight nearly the entire play. Photo: Emily Kudobe/Iowa State Daily
Cultural differences often lead to many misunderstandings. The installation deals with mixed cultural - misunderstanding phenomena and multiple-realities interpretations, opening a new world of contrasts and alternatives. In the boxes are videos with multiple meanings which could be easily (mis)interpreted differently based on different cultural backgrounds. Visitors are challenged to guess the meanings. If they are wrong, the installation responds with - You Don't Know Me.
Credit: Wang Shuyin, Sun Xun, Huang Rong, Hu Ziping, Xiangdong Lu
Ice cream novelties are serious business in Germany. They have a misunderstanding of what a portion size is. Any of these could easy feed 2-3 people, but each person orders one of their own!
Check out the pizza looking thing in the center. It's ice cream with fruits and streusel. Or the fried-egg looking thing next to it -- that's vanilla ice cream piped into Spargel (white asparagus) shape with two apricots and drizzled with a kiwi sauce.
Something unique is the Spaghettieis to the far right. Ice cream is extruded as if it were pasta, then covered in strawberry sauce "marinara", and topped with white chocolate or almond shavings as "parmesan". The Spaghettieis to the left of it is an all chocolate version.
If this is my last chance keep it. I don't need your jokes. I'm better off without the misunderstanding.
-Coheed And Cambria
bumblebee in the flowers of a garden on spruce street, cabbagetown.
in other news, it's been noted that mayor mcbigot has been hanging around with neo-nazis (other than those belonging to federal and provincial conservative parties). the white supremacist, true to form, claims that he isn't a bigot, in much the same manner that the mayor makes similar claims. since the magic of the internet is available, though, it's been easily proven over and over that jon latvis is a filthy fucking racist and like all bigots, doesn't have the courage to stand up for his odious beliefs when a light is shone on him. mayor rob ford, similarly cried out that it was all a big misunderstanding that he met with a neo-nazi - twice - and that the big mean media was once again picking on him unfairly.
bullshit. latvis played lead guitar and other instruments for rahowa, a white supremacist band, and wrote many of their lyrics. from 1990 on, latvis was a member of the band, has never divorced himself from their disgusting beliefs (until just now, and only in the form of lying about his history), and wrote many of their most bigoted songs. oh, and he has a tattoo of a swastika, which he claims is really a 'cross of thunder'. sure, kid. and your song triumph of the will is really all about rik emmett rewriting shakespeare.
as for ford, he's a stupid fucking liar, a bigot and like his skinhead buddy, too much of a chickenshit coward to stand up and say what he believes. instead, he expects that the right-wing press will play down the story, excuse his unforgiveable behaviour and make accusations against the people who brought the topic out in the open.
many thanks to anti-racist canada for starting the ball rolling, and to warren kinsella for spreading the story around. now magazine has pushed the news along after the usual assholes at the national post did nothing but claim that kinsella is a liberal spin doctor (no, they really made that a big point in their write-up), that ford loves meeting with citizens (as long as they're also hateful bigots), and restated the ridiculous claim that latvis gave ford and his handlers a different name. yeah, i'm sure that latvis bothered to engage in subterfuge because everyone knows that fuckhead ford would have checked into his background and been very professional about matters. the final claim from the ford (concentration) camp is also ridiculous - apparently latvis wanted to discuss transit with the mayor. no word on whether latvis and ford discussed shipping dissidents and other unsavoury characters to prison camps in boxcars, but i'm sure the mayor's office would just describe that as an improvement on lrts.
it's been interesting to watch the reaction from the city's jewish community. unfortunately the jewish press skews pro-conservative, and the mayor's henchmen were quick to offer an apology to the centre for israel and jewish affairs. cija, of course, quickly restated many of the points that the morons at the national post made, including an attempt to discredit kinsella. it's interesting that cija would brush aside rob ford's connection to a neo-nazi. politics does indeed make strange bedfellows, and i suppose it must just be expedient for a jewish advocacy group to make light of antisemitic hate group representatives when they are invited to meet with local politicians. true friends, indeed.
this fucking bigot ford needs to be removed from office. you might not be queer, jewish, female, a cyclist, a library user, a union member, italian, or a member of any other group who fuckface ford clearly hates, but as long as you're not a bigot, it's obvious that he is not a decent human being or fit for public office.
Magic is real. It exists in the world and in everyone. However, like evolution, many otherwise reasonable people refuse to believe it. This is due the fact that there is so much misunderstanding of what magic means. A large degree of misunderstanding comes from the fact that there is so much fraud and misrepresentation of magic. Palm reading, tarot cards, zodiac signs, crystal balls, tasseography and all other forms of fortune telling are a frauds. The future can not be known, because if it was known, then it would change. Items that are to bring good luck or fertility or whatnot are frauds. Any curse is a fraud. The difficulty is that those who sell such nonsense are rarely aware that they are frauds, they believe their own nonsense more than anyone.
The other difficulty was that people usually turned to magic looking for easy solutions. Pick up some magic to bring you good fortune rather than be bothered by hard work. It is not uncommon for people to show an interest in legitimate magical practice only to quickly wander off to the more fraudulent types. The fakers might not offer any real results, but they offer quick results. To become a legitimate practicer of magic takes an enormous amount of hard work and study. To be exact, it takes 10,000 hours of study, which is a bit more than most people are willing to put in. As a further deterrent, magical skills are not gradually acquired, but rather all at once-- people achieve their first magical spell after 10,000 hours of study. (Also it helps if you're born with a caul.)
So if Hutch was hard to replace then Ö was near impossible to replace. Ö was responsible for infusing objects with unique magical properties (of course 'unique magic' is redundant, every magic is unique). Most of the things she created never left the TSC headquarters, some because they were either used for security or examination of evidence in the building, but sometimes because they were seen as too valuable to be released. Only a few top agents were allowed to ever take magically infused items, such as the leather bag Hutch had used, into the field. Ö herself never even left the TSC basement. Not that she wasn't allowed, she just didn't want to, which suited all parties involved. When Hutch walked into her basement lab she immediately ordered him to leave.
“Come now Ö is that anyway to treat your biggest fan?”
Ö rolled up a parchment she had been studying and stood. “I don't care what you are, just get out.”
“But I need your help with something.” Hutch stepped forward, undeterred.
Ö picked up a foot long iron rod. Hutch knew from experience that if Ö touched him with the end of the rod that he would get the sensation that his entire body was on fire. The feeling only lasted a second but it was enough to keep prying hands away from her works in progress. “The whole building wants my help with something. I don't have time to help people who don't return what they take.”
“What... the bag?”
“Yes 'the bag!' I spent a month working on that and I understand it worked, that it saved the whole mission. Then you didn't bring it back!”
Hutch was at a bit of a loss “But I didn't lose it, I handed it off to another agent. It was what the mission required.”
Ö came very close to prodding him at that point. “I don't care what the mission required. I gave the bag to you, you took responsibility for it, you agreed to return it. Now it's not here, I don't know who has it and I'll probably never see it again because once a department gets their hands on some magic they never want to return it.” She then pushed turned him around and pushed him towards the door. “Now get out.” If Hutch resisted she would have never been able to physically make him leave (She looked like a dwarf next to him. In height that is, she was much cuter than a dwarf.) but he knew that if he fought back he'd never get what he came for.
“I didn't come here to ask you for new toys. It's the album leaf, I used it.” Ö stopped pushing.
“You used it?” Ö asked. Hutch turned to face her.
“Yeah I did. You said that I ever needed to know where someone was going slip it on them then come to you. Well I slipped it on someone an hour ago and I need to know where he is now.”
Ö gave an exaggerated exhale then went to a set of small narrow drawers. She unlocked the seventh one down and took out a leaf that was identical to the one she had given Hutch five months prior. She told him to sit down, Hutch grabbed a stool and sat on it. “No” Ö corrected “On the floor.”
Hutch looked down at the floor. It wasn't clean, Ö maintained that earthen floors were best for her work (she never bothered to explain why). He didn't have time to waste. He sat down on the floor cross legged. “Now how does this w...” Before he could finish his sentence Ö took a knife and cut him across the hand.
“Ow!” Hutch cried in genuine pain “What was that about?”
Ö grabbed his recoiled wounded hand again. “You talk too much.” Was all she replied. She then put the album leaf into his wound. Hutch instantly passed out.
*
An hour later Hutch woke up in a cold sweat with a throbbing headache. He looked down at his hand which had been bandaged and was still throbbing with pain. Next he looked at Ö, who was sitting at her desk, apparently going over the same scroll she had been when he came in. “What the hell Ö?”
Her eyes didn't stray from the scroll when she replied. “You know where the other leaf is now, don't you?” Hutch blinked. Somehow he did, he knew right where it was and where it had been.
“Yeah but... did you have to cut me so deep?”
“No, but I was still annoyed about my bag. Ascendant Brooks upstairs can give you something for the pain.”
He would soon refocus on Zoloto, but for the moment Hutch's mission became getting to Brook's for some relief for his head and hand. As he stumbled out of Ö's lab she commented “You're welcome.”
The river Schelde at Rilland with the OOCL Mexico making its way to the port of Antwerp.
To avoid misunderstandings : It is a black and white picture with only the buoys left in color
The knowledge of the young! Mutual misunderstanding was a popular Punch theme.
Cartoon from Punch magazine 1878
Punch the London magazine of wit, satire, irony and political humour, illustrated with numerous woodcut engravings by noted engravers and artists.
Occasionally, cultural misunderstandings occur. Our unlucky spacefarer here has been fully taken in by a Species 8472 enclave, much to his apparent surprise (and horror).
01 Stanlow
02 Pretending to see the Future
03 Messages
04 Almost
05 She’s Leaving
06 Mystereality
07 Motion and Heart
08 Promise
09 The Misunderstanding
10 Electricity
11 Bunker Soldiers
12 Julia’s Song
13 Waiting for the Man
14 Enola Gay
15 Messages
CSX SD40-3 #4016 leads a grain train through Bement on the Lafayette District, clearly a slight misunderstanding of power.
I went to the cemetery for my birthday to spend some time alone in the morning, before having lunch with my girlfriend. Some people find my love for the cemetery quite morbid. I think this comes from a misunderstanding of cemeteries.
They are inevitably tranquil, and by their nature, attract a lot of wild animals. I love a quiet walk in the cemetery and read the tombstones. They remind me about what is important in life. They slow me down from my pace.
Contrary to popular misunderstanding, cemeteries are not simply a place of death, but a place to celebrate life. If you read tombstones, they are full of life and love. And what about all those flowers that people bring? They testify to the love those who remain has for those who has gone. Yes, it is natural to see decay of flowers and tombstones over time. But that shouldn't surprise us - that's what flowers do - they decay. What should surprise us is that there are so many fresh flowers giving life to the place.
Anne Sofie Harderberg wrote a cook book in for Greenland and Denmark titled 'igaassat opskrifter' (Igaassat recipes). Her recipes are mainly based on salmon, capelin, and seal. Hardenberg has worked to draw attention to and increase international interest for Greenland food and ingredients.
Belgium.
Brussels.
Street art and comic walk.
Kartuizerstraat 39, Rue des Chartreux
Het misverstand is onuitroeibaar. (Misunderstanding is ineradicable). Dieu est-il mort? (Is God dead?) - God: Nietsche is dood. (Nietzche is dead). - Lost illusions are found truths. Dès le début, il n'y avait pas de commencement: (In the beginning, nothing started:) The words underneath the mural seem to be an unsolicited addition by a bilingual graffiti artist. But actually, the existential slogans form an integral part of the mural by Bernard Hislaire. From one project to another, he changes his nom de plume: Hislaire, Yslaire, Bernar Yslaire or Sylaire. The award-winning Brussels cartoonist is unconventional, an innovator who is unafraid to experiment with form and different media. His best-known comic book is Sambre, a historical romantic saga about love and war in which Yslaire focuses on passion, flirting with death between a stunningly beautiful re-eyed woman and a rugged black-eyed man. German Romanticism, Böcklin, Caspar David Friedrich, Hugo and Mallarme are never far away. The angel on the wall belongs to a series in which the author takes a haunting look back at the revolutionary yet often woeful twentieth century: XXe ciel.com. An angel is immortal. You are only immortal if your beloved is not. Could that explain the obvious sadness of the winged presence that descended on rue des Chartreux?
visit.brussels/en/article/the-walls-of-the-comic-strip-wa...
Q&A
Question:
Not able to understand the spouse even after 5 years of married life? Why?
Swipe to know the answer and comment on your thoughts.
#jeevanbandhan #questionandanswer
#qanda #marriagelife #understandinglife
#understandingspouse #misunderstandings #marriage #lifepartner #misunderstanding #spouse #husbandandwife #openup #talktoeachother #love #husband #wife #relationships #marriagegoals #couples #husbandandwife #couple #couplegoals #relationship #relationshipgoals #family #marriedlife #children #wife
Public Misunderstanding of Science
Led by Bruce Gilchrist
Collaborators: Kate Genevieve, Simona Casonato, David Louwrier, Daksha Patel
Public Misunderstanding of Science
Led by Bruce Gilchrist
Collaborators: Kate Genevieve, Simona Casonato, David Louwrier, Daksha Patel
We bought this sweater on the same day, at the same time, together. Somehow, we have managed to not wear it on the same day, but that changed today. Best part of it, no one was around to see the hilarious misunderstanding. So we had to take a photo of it, obviously.
How does Philadelphian differ from other dialects across the United States? Learn about Philadelphia’s place in American English with internationally renowned linguist William Labov. What natural misunderstandings stem from the Philadelphia dialect and how is our accent changing in response to higher education and immigration?
Come early to test your linguistic knowledge with an interactive language display designed by Hive76 that features accents from across Philadelphia and the United States. Also on display will be linguistically related works by Rachel Perry Welty and Sean Monahan.
William Labov is a University of Pennsylvania linguist who has been studying the Philadelphia dialect for the past 25 years. Widely regarded as the founder of variationist sociolinguistics, his 1960s studies of African American Vernacular English remain some of the most respected linguistic research of the 20th century.
The Changing Patterns of Philadelphia English is scheduled to address questions of how Philadelphia talks to itself that were raised by Temple Contemporary’s Advisory Council.
A haiku:
Donut sits lonely
Igloo transformed to donut
Makes sense to the cat
Anya, one of our two Siberian cats, failing to read the instruction manual for her furniture. She has squashed the "igloo" into a donut shape while ignoring the donut next to it.
More of Anya and her brother Daver in my Cats set
It seems like everything is really trying to screw up my crowsauce. One weekend it snowed. The next Jessie was sick. And now for the past 2 weeks the city has been draining and cleaning the lake in Yoyogi park.
But you can bet I'mma hang out with them tomorrow!
Anyways, in this capture one crow get's too close to daddy crow's bathing spot in the lake. It was my first time to see one express dominance. Seen it quite a few times since. The boss crow ain't always the biggest bird either!