View allAll Photos Tagged Pulsating
The Mursi people of Ethiopia’s Omo Valley have been called “one of the most fascinating tribes in Africa.”
We’d only been in the village just over two hours, and it was still mid-morning. But the sun was high: pulsating light and radiating heat. Following the men to the cattle pens made for a nice diversion, even though I felt anticipatory dread over what was to come.
First, a cow who hasn’t been bled recently must be caught and restrained. Then the bowman palpates an artery on the cows neck for piercing. The spurting fresh blood is caught in a gourd before the hole in the neck is plugged and the blood is drunk by the participants.
The cattle must be used to this treatment – once let loose, they are unfazed.
For the story, please visit: www.ursulasweeklywanders.com/culture/men-of-the-mursi-mor...
Build by Titans Creations for Legoland Malaysia May the 4th event.
Minifig scaled and measuring 110 cm by 85 cm , its bigger than the UCS Millennium Falcon.
Main objective of this build is to replicate the interior of the popular Millennium Falcon as accurate as possible with references to different online materials.
Features 24 LED , 7 which are programmed to pulsate at the rear thrusters for realism , and the rest spread among the corridor, hyperdrive and cockpit.
Took a total of 2 months to plan and build.
Thank you for viewing !
Do check us out on www.titanscreations.com
Balmoral Hotel Clock Tower on Princes Street - Edinburgh, Scotland.
The Balmoral Hotel is a luxury hotel located in the heart of Edinburgh, with an address of 1 Princes Street - the city's pulsating shopping district. It was once known as the North British Hotel until the late 1980's. It is known for its majestic 195-feet clock tower set 3 minutes fast. On my research about Edinburgh, I found this one interesting fact about the Balmoral Hotel:
"In February 2007 it was confirmed that author J. K. Rowling finished the last book in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at this hotel. Rowling left a signed statement written on a marble bust of Hermes in her room saying; "JK Rowling finished writing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in this room (652) on 11th Jan 2007."
Camera/Lens: Nikon D700; 70-200mm f/2.8;
Exposure: 30 sec.; Aperture: f/16; ISO: 200; Focal Length: 150mm;
Copyright 2010 - Yen Baet - All Rights Reserved.
Do not use any of my images without permission.
Starling (Sturnus vulgaris). During the winter months, the numbers of Starlings present within Britain and Ireland are swelled by the arrival of individuals from breeding populations located elsewhere within Europe. The numbers arriving vary from one winter to the next and are influenced by weather conditions on the Continent. Wintering Starlings roost communally and vast flocks may congregate at favoured sites, typically performing amazing aerobatic displays (known as ‘murmurations’) before dropping into the roost, which may be a reedbed, a group of conifers or a human structure, such as a pier. With many thousands of birds using a roost there is the potential for nuisance, their droppings fouling the ground beneath and around the chosen site.
These vast flocks have more humble beginnings, with small flocks of Starlings coming together as dusk approaches. Gradually, as more and more birds join the gathering, a huge pulsating flock is formed. As the light begins to fade so part of the flock will plunge down towards the chosen roost, almost as if testing its nerve to see who will be the first bird to drop into the roost itself. The birds have good reason to be nervous; these large gatherings attract the attentions of predators like Peregrine and Sparrowhawk. Photo by Nick Dobbs, Bournemouth, Throop Mill 09-03-21
Robert McEllvy had been dreaming. A beach, bright sun, and all the scantily clad young ladies his eyes could handle. The sweet taste of a froo-froo drink still lingered on his tongue. The only thing to mar this paradise was the subtle pain in his neck....well, that and the sudden explosion of noise. Metal grinding on metal and a distant warning alarm blurting.
"Shit", thought McEllvy as he popped his eye open to the real world and all of it's lackluster charms. He must have
dozed off in this recently refurbished storage shed. It was boring work waiting to catch one of those mystery noises that these new colonists seem to hear on the regular.
Another round of grinding sounds and that damn alarm solidified this as the real world and told him he had a job to do.
McEllvey had come to LV369 around four years ago and had quickly established himself as one of the best damn
environmental processor techs at DELVINIA colony. Sadly, that was four years ago and now every hab unit on the planet had upgraded to the newest self servicing enviro-kits. Thank you Weyland-Yutani.
At this point it didn't matter who did what and who got left behind by the march of progress. There was a compressor in this old hut that was about to tork itself to death. McEllvy followed the sound into the belly of the old prefabricated structure. When the first colonists had come to LV369 they had been preceded by a series of drop ships and construction bots. The bots would scrap the ships and use them to build the first structures. The first steps in the new "Shake and Bake" type settlements. Time passes and upgrades are made. Older systems get scrapped or integrated into the new ones. McEllvy had kept up with these advances until he himself was made obsolete. Now, as he worked his way toward the sounds of this fossil of a compressor trying to give up the ghost he is distracted by a gap in the unit's outer shell. Big enough to see a wide swath of blue sky streaked with five or six white trails. looking up made his neck hurt again and this noise was splitting is skull. He remembered getting the alert about the meteor shower this morning. Maybe later he would go rock hunting. If the miners don't get there first. He would have been done by now if he hadn't fallen asleep. He wouldn't have fallen asleep if he had not drank so much. On top of everything else, he was hungry. Well he thought he was hungry. Maybe it was just gas.
The siren was now a loud reminded that he didn't have much time.
McEllvy finally reached the source of all the commotion. A large hole was blasted in the side of the access hall and the side of the main compressor unit was buckled in. This was the cause of the grinding. All he needed to do was shut the unit down, hammer out the dent and reset the belt. Easy Peasy. Maybe when he finished he would go see the doc. His neck was killing him and his gut was doing the jitterbug. No time for that, if he was going to get that alarm to shut up he was going to have to fix that compressor. As he started removing the damaged cover from the unit he was struck with another cramp in his gut and a nearly tactile wave of deja vu.
He could remember bringing his tool kit with him, but it was already here. Did he just set it down or, was that before?
He looked back to the hole in the wall, the light from outside flooding in and.....and what?
Did the edge of that hole look melted? Not like it would be from the meteor strike. Why did he assume it was a meteor?
"Because you saw the damn thing" he thought to himself. Had he? No, he had been thinking of ......had he? Another cramp, this one bad enough to double him over. He had been dropped to his knees by the pain, looking down at his belly. He had never been a super fit man but even to him his gut looked distended.
More pain, damn this was bad. If his appendix burst down here.......
He looked up from his now pulsating stomach. Across the room, on the edge of the natural light, was an egg....it was open.....it was empty.
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
We hit Yosemite in the middle of an unusual Fall storm -- followed by its gradual clearing from the valley the perfect conditions that occur perhaps 20 times a year at most. Usually it is dry as granite, but Yosemite Falls (you can see upper and lower Yosemite Falls here) were plump with a pulsating roar that filled our cabin. That and the fall leaves coming off the poplars and oaks had the valley painted in oils.
A few words on Yosemite falls - At 739 meters (2,420 feet) its the 7th largest waterfall in the world, with an upper falls that drops 436 meters (1,430 feet). The lower falls are higher than Niagara Falls. They are usually dry this time of year, and some even climb thie sheer face for the thrill -- extremely dangerous because one thunderstorm above can restart the falls -- as it did this weekend -- with disastrous consequences. Frankly it is beautiful and a thrill to have nearby and the huge conveniently placed meadow opposite it make it a photographer's dream.
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
Inspired by the Swedish Wasteland. Come enjoy some time off from the pulsating life, enjoy the lake activities like fishing, boat , pedalo or canoe; go for a walk by the river, or relax and listen to the frogs singing :) Turn the sounds on!
Visit this location at Luanes Spring World -Romantic sim & :LW: Poses main store in Second Life
LC Verse Spider-Girl
Issue #15 "Passenger"
The screaming and gunfire gets louder as I swing my way towards the chaos, a mech about six foot tall is wielding an oversized machine gun firing his rounds wildly into the buildings nearby. I notice he's not shooting at the civilians and no police have arrived at the scene, perhaps they have a late response time? Landing behind the mech I get a better look at its thick plated armour on top of that is a large shield strapped to it's hand for overkill. I clear my throat then speak, "All that armour won't protect you." The mech swivels around alarmingly fast despite its size, glaring down at me through its visor. "Well it's about time you showed your face, murderer!" The mechs voice booms whilst it charges at me with its shield leaning forward I see its pointed metallic horn in the shape of a Rhinos. I flip high over the Rhino mech seeing it crash into a parked car which crumples upon impact. "I didn't mean to kill, The Lizard it was an accident." I protest seeing Rhino turn around blasting his turret, bullets riddle into the street near me whilst I sprint quickly behind a nearby car. The car is shredded by the bullets like it was made out of paper and I grimace combat rolling away. "His wife said you broke his neck with one punch, doesn't seem like an accident!" Rhino roars raising his shield upwards charging at me, he's faster than I expected and slams hard into my chest sending me flying across the road. Quickly getting to my feet quickly I grit my teeth angrily, "I don't have to justify my actions to you, scumbag!" Rhino lets out a deep growl lumbering towards me and I run at him drawing back a fist. My suit fuels the power which gushes through my veins whilst Rhino tanks his way towards me aiming his horn downward but I skid across the ground under his shield spraying my webbing at his visor. He comes to a halt dropping his gun and shield trying to pry my webbing from his face with his oversized fingers, he turns to me crying out in frustration. "Let me help you with that!" I say running towards him slamming my fist against his visor, I don't notice the force of my punch as my fist travels through his visor smashing through his face coming out the back of Rhinos head.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
I gasp in horror yanking back my fist staring at the gaping whole in the armour, peering inside squeamishly I notice there's no pilot. Electricity sparks violently from within the armour gathering in the air, it manifests into a transparent figure radiating bright blue energy. "Agh my suit!" A distorted tone hisses angrily, my eyes widen seeing the electric form hover in the air, It raises its hands and sparks fly from its fingertips crackling. "S.H.I.E.L.D gave me that armour, you're going to pay for it!" He cackles blasting volts of lightning at me, the electricity strikes my body sending needles all over it. I shriek in pain collapsing to the ground withering in pain until he stops. He laughs looking down at me twitch uncontrollably, my suit seems to pulsate off my body, tentacles lashing out in pain from my back like its screaming. I breathe heavily slowly getting to my feet only to feel another blast of electricity course through my body, I begin to convulse screaming in agony shutting my eyes tightly waiting for it to stop. The torture abruptly comes to a halt then I hear him speak, "Electro to Nick Fury, package is secure the suit is off." My body feels soaked in warm liquid and I begin to think it's blood then open my eyes, a black puddle of my suit surrounds me, gently rippling as the remainder of it drips down from my fingertips. Looking down at the leftover droplets of my suit trickle down I hear footsteps approach, a firm tone breaks the silence, "Good work, Electro. We have her now it's time for S.H.I.E.L.D to take her in."
Absent Sophia
Poetry ceases without you
Ache embraces a pounding heart
Caged behind a glass door
A grieving liturgy waits
Silence roars on empty ears
Confined a passion thrashes
Lyrics fail to chant in your absence
Throbbing veins pulsate against flesh
Imprisoned in white bones
-rc
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Woke up in the middle of the night and decided to take the trash out. The sky was cloud- covered, not a single star to be seen. The street was empty and I felt a slight longing for something I couldn’t put my finger on so I switch on the computer, make of cup of ginger tea and play with some art. Cued on my listening list is a video by Shoshana Zuboff, author of “Surveillance Capitalism”. I take a deep breath in and began to loosen up and let myself go on another artistic voyage.
Since 1978, Shoshana has been studying the dawn of the “Digital Age”which was going to usher in a golden time of global collaborations to solve great world challenges like disease and hunger. Now 43 years later, she published a book to warn us to reclaim the liberties taken by those who have hijacked the digital domain and who mine insane amounts of data from an unsuspecting user base. She says that F.Book, for example, extracts 3 trillion bits of information and spits out 6 million human behavioral predictions per second. (My image takes on this idea of separating: The metal bars, the surveillance camera, the projected image and the artist protagonist who sings and dreams and holds on the beauty of her own created thought world.) Shoshana says that these human predictions are bought and sold like wheat or oil or minerals and companies compete to have access to the most accurate outcomes of these behavioral forecasts. This is the most lucrative and substantial real-estate of the modern age. We are not the customer, we are simply a resource…being fed into algorithims which are then studied and sold back to us in the form of everything from political leanings to personalized selections of consumer goods and lifestyle choices. She says that facial recognition technology can now even detect fear and there is a sound device that can pick up your surroundings so a targeted ad can be sent to you in a vulnerable moment and be designed in such a way that you give in.
I think of this invasive siphoning as a kind of instrumental colonialism confiscating our private thoughts and feelings in order to take ownership of them. Roshana urges us to keep asking three key questions: Who is in the Know? Who decides who will be in the Know? Who decides who decides who will be in the Know? (Two hands represent this chasm …) The increasing divisiveness in the climate, health, technology and religious debates seems to support this idea. (The projected image on a laptop appears. What is real and what is not real?) She ends the talk on a hopeful note saying that even the industrial revolution had to hammer out human rights issues and this is the time to bring the digital frontier into the so called “house of democracy”. She said that cyberspace is only made of data, capital, machines and people. She emphasizes that these are unprecedented times and we need to be vigilent. We need to keep asking questions.
It’s almost noon now as I lean back and stretch. My heart scans the artwork as the images dance, rearrange in a new ways to interpret the interconnectedness of thoughts and things; the maco and micro worlds are always in synch. Vibrational differences give the illusion of separation while the giving and taking hands are the polarities that move and shake this existence with masculine and feminine givng and receiving aspects. The musician reclaims her songs and pulsates with rhythms through endless wave form patterns. When we remember who we are, we can take charge again. We make better choices. We are not the bystander but pioneer new visions with the perspective that the digital world offers new tools of collaboration and engagement with cutting edge of possibilities. In this refiguring, there is joy, freedom and deep reverence. We take care of ourselves, each other and the earth because we know we are all part of a great Love Story. We all write the story together.
“Though free to think and act, we are held together like stars in the firmament with ties unseperable. These ties cannot be seen, but we can feel them. We are all one.”
-Nikola Tesla
Here is the video this writing refers to:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=vm2i4OlW3sM (Shoshana starts 8 minutes in…)
IC 5076, also known as vdB 137, is a reflection nebula located in the constellation Cygnus, about 2° north of the North America Nebula. It is situated at an estimated distance of 1750 parsecs (approximately 5700 light-years) and is part of the same galactic region as the Cygnus X nebular complex. Nearby, the open cluster NGC 6910 can be observed a few arcminutes to the south.
This nebula is associated with the star HD 199478, a blue supergiant of spectral class B8Iae. The star exhibits strong emission lines, characteristic of Be stars, and is classified as a pulsating variable under the designation V2140 Cygni. Its apparent magnitude is 5.73, with brightness variations of about 0.1 magnitude.
To capture this image, a Planewave CDK17 telescope (432mm) was used, paired with a FLI Kepler 4040 CMOS camera and Astronomik Deep-Sky LRGB filters. A total of 45 frames, amounting to 4.2 hours of exposure, were stacked. Post-processing techniques were applied to adjust contrast and levels, bringing out subtle details such as the background nebula.
TARGET DETAILS
RA 20h 55m 31.4s
DEC +47° 24' 18.9"
SIZE 41.8 x 41.8 arcmin
PIXEL SCALE 0.493 arcsec/pixel
ORIENTATION Up is 2.1 degrees E of N
CONSTELLATION Cygnus
Captured April 2024
Total integration time of 4.2 hours.
Technical Details
Data acquisition: Roboscope
Processing: Nicolas ROLLAND
Location: Apollo 11 Observatory, Badajoz, Extremadura, Spain
L: 15*300s
R: 15*300s
G: 15*300s
B: 15*300s
Optics: Planewave CDK17 @ F/6.8
Mount: Planewave L-500 Fork Mount
CCD: FLI Kepler 4040fi CMOS
Astrodon 50mm sqr LRGB
Click for story and time-lapse video
Pulsating aurora on the morning of October 30, 2013 | Fairbanks, Alaska.
Recently, I sat at the edge of a lake feeling melancholic. I looked down to see three rocks buried in the sand. Borrowing some chalk and markers from a nearby group of girls, I felt inspired to draw and then further explore this experience in my notebook.
Contemplating the first rock:
This is the rock of the personal story. The pressure cooker rock that shapes our sense of self and identity and then forces us to look deeper into who we are and where we come from. As we look beyond our stories and try to make sense of who we are and why we are here, we often feel overwhelmed by the vast range of pain and isolation. We realize the ridiculous ways we have measured ourselves in our own circumstances and the many ways we believe that we are merely that which we think, that which we possess or that which we believe. We often experience the fear of missing out. We constantly weigh and measure ourselves and others in an effort to reveal our feelings of worthiness or lack thereof. We often lose our sense of Infinity and our relationship to the limitless part of ourselves out of fear that life has no ultimate meaning and therefore our individual lives have no higher purpose.
Contemplating the second rock:
This is the Rock of the Universal Heart. All stories pour out of this Rock. It is the rock of unending Love and abundance. This is the great Rock of Ages which beheld us even before we slipped into our mother’s womb. Rock is rock. This is the Stone that stretches our imagination beyond the rigid thinking mind and reminds us that Infinity cannot be measured or defined. In our deepest moments of connection and compassion we feel the resonance of this rock. In our deepest pain, we reach for this “You” and so many have heard the small still voice within that answers. It is the rock of hope and possibility. It is the eternal song that we feel and hear in our deepest longings to know who we are and where we are going. It is the resonance that pulsates the message : “Love never faileth” to fill us with strength and faith.
Contemplating the third rock:
This is the rock of Light and Wisdom. This rock is the bridge between the first two rocks. This is the radiance of the sun which pulsates in everything seen and unseen. It is the uncovering and discovering of true Self. It is the Path, the Teacher, the Vessel, the Transmission of energy between all things. This rock raises the vibration of the world for all those who seek, ask, believe and find. This rock is the force of life which animates, directs and creates out of itself. It is the blueprint for the orchard waiting in the seed of an apple. It is the hope fulfilled when the life etched on the first rock enters into the unfolding of its own story and it is also the soothing of the ache to return to Source. It is the great messenger shining through, in and on and through all of Creation and is That which knows no shadow.
While working on this posting, I was listening to a musical version of a mantra that my Teacher had taught to us years ago and it seems to be a perfect pairing for this post:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=4kg4ZgUakNY
and if you are feeling stressed out, play this one at the same time and you will feel so much better:
Full post here: theastroenthusiast.com/first-pulsar-image-processing/
You can find all details at the astrobin post here: www.astrobin.com/zzoau6/
Credits: Tim Schaeffer, Carl Björk, William Ostling
The first-ever color image of the pulsar wind nebula around pulsar PSR B1951+32
At the core of this intricate scene lies PSR B1951+32, a pulsar surrounded by a pulsar wind nebula (PWN). This PWN, visible in a stunning array of colors, takes its place as the centerpiece of this image, capturing the imagination and serving as the first-ever color image of its kind in visible light. It pulsates with life, its energetic emissions shaping the surrounding space and illuminating the cosmic tapestry.
PSR B1951+32: The pulsar at the center of this composition, surrounded by its pulsar wind nebula, emits powerful beams of radiation as it rapidly rotates. These emissions influence the surrounding space and provide a unique backdrop to the cosmic scene.
This image is a testament to the boundless beauty and diversity that our universe holds, inviting us to explore the mysteries of the cosmos and the intricate stories written in the stars, with OU-7, OU-8, and the PWN of PSR B1951+32 adding their brilliance to this cosmic kaleidoscope.
Website: theastroenthusiast.com/
Instagram: www.instagram.com/the_astronomy_enthusiast/
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
Abraham "Bram" Stoker (8 November 1847 – 20 April 1912) was an Irish author, best known today for his 1897 Gothic novel, Dracula. During his lifetime, he was better known as the personal assistant of actor Henry Irving and business manager of the Lyceum Theatre in London, which Irving owned.
Arise! Awake! A mist descends upon the city streets. Sounds pulsate beneath our feet. The sky shudders as Macnas spirits are unleashed by Twilight.
Come out and celebrate with Danu, Goddess of the Divine and Dark: brutal and beautiful, warrior and mother, hallowed and holy, she protects and provokes, takes flight and goes underground.
Mummers and drummers follow and seek. Demons and angels love and loathe, the dead dance and the living transform. Men become gods, fools become Kings, souls are sanctified, reptiles are rarefied and the city streets transform as the journey unfolds.
Bram Stoker Festival are delighted to once again welcome Macnas to Dublin for a city-wide procession to launch the city into Samhain [Halloween].
The lazily winding spiral arms of the spectacular galaxy NGC 976 fill the frame of this image from the Hubble Space Telescope. This spiral galaxy lies around 150 million light-years from the Milky Way in the constellation Aries. Despite its tranquil appearance, NGC 976 has played host to one of the most violent astronomical phenomena known — a supernova explosion. These cataclysmically violent events take place at the end of the lives of massive stars, and can outshine entire galaxies for a short period.
While supernovae mark the deaths of massive stars, they are also responsible for the creation of heavy elements that are incorporated into later generations of stars and planets. Supernovae are also a useful aid for astronomers who measure the distances to faraway galaxies. The amount of energy thrown out into space by supernova explosions is very uniform, allowing astronomers to estimate their distances from how bright they appear to be when viewed from Earth. This image comes from a large collection of Hubble observations of nearby galaxies which host supernovae as well as a pulsating class of stars known as Cepheid variables. Both Cepheids and supernovae are used to measure astronomical distances, and galaxies containing both objects provide useful natural laboratories where the two methods can be calibrated against one another.
Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA, D. Jones, A. Riess et al.
For more information, visit: esahubble.org/images/potw2202a/
Having just missed the most active burst of aurora last night, I opted to try and catch some pulsating forms during the break up phase of the display.
Time-lapse composed of around 260 10 second exposures taken with a Canon 6d, Canon 50mm lens, f2.8 ISO3200, 10 second exposures.
Detroit Metro Airport- Who would have thought that you would get off a plane and walk through a psychedelic tunnel with a light show to pulsating music at the Detroit Airport. Sure made the trip a lot more enjoyable! Straight out of the camera.
My first shot to reach 1,000 views! Thank you!
Fairly common in wetland habitats from damp meadows to saltmarshes. Mostly inconspicuous, feeding in muddy ground by probing with its very long bill, usually near reeds or other grassy cover. Often not seen until flushed, when usually rises from fairly close range with rough rasping call. Breeding birds are more conspicuous, perching on fence posts. Note cryptic, stripy plumage, very long bill. In Asia and Australasia, beware of extremely similar Pin-tailed, Swinhoe's, and Latham's Snipes, all of which lack the white trailing edge of Common and have a slower, less erratic flight. In display flight, birds stoop from high overhead and produce a pulsating, bleating sound from air passing through their fanned tail.
07/06/2022, Nieuwe Waterweg, Port of Rotterdam, Netherlands.
The view from the Landtong of the Maasmond - the mouth of the River Maas - the entrance to the giant port of Rotterdam.
The Breeddiep is the gap of water between the Landtong and the man made island beyond; on which, are the two black and white 'leading light' towers, which guide ships into the entrance, especially at night and in poor visibility, by using pulsating lights.
The further light is the Maasmond laag (low light) and the nearer is the Maasmond hoog (high light).
To the left of the man made island is the Caland Canal, and to the right is the Nieuwe Waterweg (New Waterway).
The large, red & white lighthouse with a helicopter platform atop, is the North Mole lighthouse (Maasmond Noorderhoofd).
tree and telegraph pole. shooting into the sun, with a hoya pulsator filter. the combination of light starbursts, are almost endless with this rotating filter. perfect when combined with a hoya 4 point star filter, when shooting christmas street lights, and indoor decoration lights with no flash. langholm, dumfriesshire, scotland.
Before & After
Em's eyes have been really low-res for a loooong time and I've wanted to make new one's ofr a while but never got around to it because I had better things to do.
The new eyes still do the glowing/pulsating thing (example: i.imgur.com/hbv3XpC.jpg) but there's also a cubemap on them now so there's nice and shiny. And the obvious new higher-resolution textures.
Build by Titans Creations for Legoland Malaysia May the 4th event.
Minifig scaled and measuring 110 cm by 85 cm , its bigger than the UCS Millennium Falcon.
Main objective of this build is to replicate the interior of the popular Millennium Falcon as accurate as possible with references to different online materials.
Features 24 LED , 7 which are programmed to pulsate at the rear thrusters for realism , and the rest spread among the corridor, hyperdrive and cockpit.
Took a total of 2 months to plan and build.
Thank you for viewing !
Do check us out on www.titanscreations.com
The world is your oyster, as the expression goes – and the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope, with its advanced instruments and favourable location in orbit above Earth’s atmosphere, has far more of the Universe to explore than most.
This image was captured using Hubble’s Wide Field Planetary Camera 2, the camera responsible for many of the telescope’s most beautiful images. It shows the appropriately nicknamed Oyster Nebula (more formally known as NGC 1501), a candescent cloud some 5000 light-years away from Earth in the constellation of Camelopardalis.
The Oyster Nebula is a type of cosmic object that is essentially a giant cloud of dust and electrically charged gases. Nebulas are often made to glow, as seen here, by the radiation from a nearby star. In the case of the Oyster Nebula, that star can be seen as a yellow–orange dot at the centre of the turquoise cloud, resembling the oyster’s precious pearl.
This is a planetary nebula, meaning that it was created when its progenitor star – the ‘pearl’ – threw its outer layers of gas into space. This star is just as notable as the beautiful structure surrounding it. It is a pulsating star, meaning that its brightness varies regularly and periodically. In the case of NGC 1501’s progenitor star, this is incredibly fast, with the star’s brightness changing significantly in just half an hour.
The complexity of the Oyster Nebula’s internal structure is clearly evident in this detailed image, appearing almost webbed or bubbly. Astronomers have modelled this object in 3D and found it to be an irregularly shaped cloud filled with lumpy and bumpy structures, such as knots and bubbles of gas and clumps of dust, all knitted together.
These visible-light observations capture the glow of gases including hydrogen and nitrogen. The bright colours shown here are arbitrary. A version of this image was entered into the 2012 Hubble’s Hidden Treasures image processing competition by contestant Marc Canale.
Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA; acknowledgement: M. Canale
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
ESA's star-surveying Gaia mission has released a treasure trove of new data as part of its ‘focused product release’. One of the new papers characterises the dynamics of 10 000 pulsating and binary red giant stars in by far the largest such database available to date. These stars were part of a catalogue of two million variable star candidates released in Gaia DR3, and are key when calculating cosmic distances, confirming stellar characteristics, and clarifying how stars evolve throughout the cosmos. The new release provides a better understanding of how these fascinating stars change over time.
Each symbol on this skymap indicates the position of one of the sources from the catalogue. Each is colour-coded according to the star’s variability type as seen by Gaia. Red symbols are long-period variables (LPVs) whose variability is driven by the star pulsating. Green dots show so-called ‘long secondary period’ stars (LSPs), whose cause of variability is still debated but believed to be linked to a cloud of dust orbiting the star. Blue symbols are ellipsoidal variables: red giants that are part of a binary system with a dense compact object, and whose shape is distorted into an egg-like shape due to this companion’s strong gravitational pull. Each source changes in luminosity roughly periodically and has a varying line-of-sight velocity as measured by Gaia. This means that the stellar surface is either cyclically approaching or receding from us as the star pulsates, or that the star itself is approaching/receding as it moves throughout its orbit. The darker the tone and larger the size of each symbol, the more that star’s velocity changes throughout its cycle.
Alt-text: This image shows the plane of the Milky Way cutting horizontally across the frame, with many colourful dots overlaid – each representing a star. The dots are either red, green or blue, with the colour representing the star’s type and motion (the larger and darker the dot, the more the star’s velocity is changing throughout its cycle).
Acknowledgements: Michele Trabucchi, Nami Mowlavi and Thomas Lebzelter
Credits: ESA/Gaia/DPAC, CC BY-SA 3.0 IGO
The dull headlights of the van just about manage to pierce the looming darkness of the countryside as they drive on through the night. A strange atmosphere has crawled its way into the van since their encounter at the gas station, festering amongst them and causing everyone to retreat to their own personal corners of the cramped van and stare mindlessly out of the windows.
Larry is glad to be driving.
He allows himself a quick glance over his shoulder to see everyone sleeping. At least, he thinks everyone is. It’s hard to tell with Cliff. He adjusts his grip on the wheel and fights off a pang of fatigue threatening to send him to sleep, focusing on nothing but the road ahead and Niles. Eric’s guidance so far had served them well, and as he battles off the call of sleep he reflects on where they’ve come and how far left they’ve got to go, and wonders if they were right to leave in the first place. But as Larry’s mind wanders, he is disturbed from his reflection by another sensation – unwanted by him in the moment almost as much as sleep. He groans as the dull pulsating echoes from within his chest, and just about manages to pull the van over to the side of the road before his body convulses and the Negative Spirit claws its way out of his body.
The Spirit glides gently around the van for a moment, the soft glow of the being illuminating the air far better than the headlights do the road ahead and filling it with intangible whispers. If anyone in that moment could see it, it would appear as nothing more than an image through misted glass – managing to be both disturbingly distorted and as clear as day. Time appears to drain away as the Spirit hovers carefully between the roof and floor of the van, gazing at Larry’s unconscious body with its hollow yellow eyes – mere voids in its abstract form existing in an absent place – and extract the last remaining dregs of happiness from the soul of anyone unfortunate enough to look back at it. It turns its head away from Larry and casts its empty gaze around the others, before finally settling on Eric, slumped in the corner. It drifts towards him, undisturbed in sleep, and watches him like a farmer would a cow before sending it to slaughter. It has, and never will, be able to feel the emotions we do.
But as it stares at Eric a malevolent dread swells within its being and for the first time it its existence it experiences what it can only deduce to be fear.
It drifts away gracefully, calmly assessing the new emotion, and climbs back inside the solace of Larry Trainor.
========================================
World dark. Spinning
Cliff Steele has never felt more alive
Stumbling past the track and into the RV
Back turned
She’s still here
He’s surprised
“Who was it tonight?”
Smoking a cigarette through an open window
She knows
Always knows
Wish she wouldn’t do that
Cliff Steele feels warmth spread through his face
Grips the bottle harder
“I was just havin’ fun. You remember fun dontya? Can’t I have fuckin’ fun anymore?
The bottle is empty
He knew that already, though
Fresh whiskey in the cupboard
She’s behind him now
“Cliff don’t!”
“Back off Princess!”
“Don’t call me that!”
“I’ll call you what I like! What’re you goin’ to do?”
New faces in his head now, but still the same
She stares out the window
Crying? What now?
“I was speaking to Tammy. Her kid’s seven today, Cliffy. I wanted to wish her a happy birthday.”
This talk again. Drink
“Please, Cliffy-”
Drink
Something is wrong
She hugs him but her warmth is unknown
“I wanna be mom, Cliffy…”
The anger comes again
“You been speakin’ to Randy again or somethin’?”
“Please Cliffy…”
Afraid
Hands extend
Her grip tightens
“Get off…”
This isn’t right
“Get off me. You’re hurtin’ me.”
Constricting around him, arms crushing
“I wanna baby of my own… just someone to love. Please Cliffy…”
When did her smile get so big?
When was she facing him?
“Our own little family. Wouldn’t it be perfect? You could give this all up! You’d never have to race again.”
“BACK OFF!”
The face begins to melt
Fear
“Oh don’t get your buns in a twist!”
“What? What did you say?”
“You heard me Cliffy.”
Face water as hands reach out to grab
“I always say that Cliffy… hold me baby… hold me… touch me like you’ve never touched me…”
He’s on the floor. When did he end up on the floor?
Hands pull at him – pain
They claw and pull and rip and skin is pulled away to reveal -
Metal
How can it be metal?
“I can’t… I can’t feel you… I can’t feel anythin’… help me… God fuckin’ help me!”
Her body melts away into a beast, a shadow
The RV distorts around her, but it isn’t his anymore
She’s smiling
Can’t move
“Oh Cliffy, only those with a distinct lack of imagination resort to such ghastly language.”
She pulls the last of the skin away
Frozen
He’s not a man
Not a man
Was never a man
“No! You’re not - please! PLEASE!”
Hands crush his head but he feels nothing
Powerless as he always was
Children’s voices in the air
*thump* *thump* thump*
Someone is throwing stones
“HELP ME!”
Metal crushes brain tissue and squeezes red hot blood
Feels nothing
You never did, Cliff Steele
Cliff jolts awake as his eyes switch on and illuminate the van in a dull crimson glow. He clutches his chest out of instinct and looks around, his artificial eyes adapting quickly to the darkness.
Cliff: Holy shit…
He sits up and reaches for his head, and once satisfied it’s still in one piece rests back and looks out the window. The van has stopped. He glances back to the driver’s seat and spots Larry, awake and breathing heavily. Before he can say anything Larry turns wearily to look at him.
Larry: Bad dreams?
Cliff nods silently. They sit for a moment, sharing the quiet, the shame, and the comfort of each other’s sorrow.
Commentary.
From the Causeway across the River Croe stands
the sunrise-lit peak of Sgurr Mhic Bharraich, 779 metres, 2,556 feet.
To the right is the col Bealach Ratagan, taking a spectacular switchback road to Glenelg, Loch Hourn, Arnisdale and Corran.
On the southern shore of Loch Duich is the linear Ratagan village, on this clear September morning.
The stillness creates lustrous reflections of mountain, forest, village and cottage.
Only the mesmerising, pulsating call of an Oyster-Catcher breaks the tranquillity of this captivating early morning scene.
NASA image release May 23, 2011
To view a video related to this image go here: www.flickr.com/photos/gsfc/5751335447/in/photostream
Views of a famous pulsating star taken nearly 90 years apart and a portrait of its galactic home are shown in this image collection.
The pancake-shaped disk of stars, gas, and dust that make up the Andromeda galaxy, or M31, is shown in the image at left. Andromeda is a Milky Way neighbor and resides 2 million light-years away.
The tiny white box just above center outlines the Hubble Space Telescope view. An arrow points to the Hubble image, taken by the Wide Field Camera 3. The snapshot is blanketed with stars, which look like grains of sand.
The white circle at lower left identifies Hubble variable number one, or V1, the Cepheid variable star discovered by astronomer Edwin Hubble in 1923. Cepheid variables are pulsating stars that brighten and fade in a predictable pattern. Astronomers use them to calculate how far away they are from Earth.
The large white box outlines the region imaged by astronomer Edwin Hubble, who used the 100-inch Hooker telescope, the most powerful telescope of that era. An arrow points to a copy of Hubble's image of Andromeda, which was made on a 4-inch-by-5-inch glass plate and dated Oct. 6, 1923.
Edwin Hubble originally identified three novae, a class of exploding star, by writing "N" next to each object. Later, Hubble realized that the nova at top right was actually a Cepheid variable. He crossed out the "N" and wrote "VAR," for variable. This star allowed Hubble to calculate a reliable distance to Andromeda, proving that it was a separate galaxy outside our Milky Way.
To read more go to: www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/hubble/science/star-v1.html
Object Name: M31
Image Type: Astronomical/Illustration
Illustration Credit: NASA, ESA, and Z. Levay (STScI)
Credit: NASA, ESA, and the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA)
NASA Goddard Space Flight Center enables NASA’s mission through four scientific endeavors: Earth Science, Heliophysics, Solar System Exploration, and Astrophysics. Goddard plays a leading role in NASA’s accomplishments by contributing compelling scientific knowledge to advance the Agency’s mission.
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Neon Jungle Waltz Introduction
Welcome to the Neon Jungle, a pulsating metropolis where Alluring and Vibrant characters waltz through the cityscape, creating a dance of contrasts and harmony. In this vivid landscape, the serene calm of Alluring blends seamlessly with the energetic vibrance of its urban counterpart. Join us as we delve into the heart of the Neon Jungle and explore the enchanting dance of these two captivating forces.
Blogger:
www.jjfbbennett.com/2024/06/neon-jungle-waltz-scene-1.html
Keywords:
Neon Jungle, Alluring, Vibrant, Metropolis, Cityscape, Urban, Dance, Contrasts, Harmony, Enchanting, Opera
Commentary.
The endless swathes of imperial Scots Pine.
Exquisite , calm waters of Loch Beinn á Mheadhoin and Affric,
convoluted by dips, hollows, bays and enchanting fresh-water islands.
Lofty, imposing peaks of Càrn Eighe, Màm Sodhail and Sgùrr na Lapaich, often snow-capped, well into April, and even May.
A glen of pulsating life.
From Wood-Ants and Dragon-Fly
to Salmon and Trout.
From Red Deer and Golden Eagle
to Wood-Cock and Wildcat.
Iconic, momentous, overwhelming, breath-taking in early morning mists, under winter snow or in colourful Autumn garb.
In Spring when Broom and Gorse smother slopes in dazzling yellow flower to Summer when green dominates and life buzzes with a frenzy.
As here, in Autumn, when the sun falls earlier behind the West Coast peaks, the tranquil, golden reflections of peaks, forest and island create a sumptuous vision of utter peace,
serenity and prodigious beauty.
Beyond doubt, this glen has a mystical magic beyond my powers of description.
If you ever go there, and catch it in a more convivial mood,
you will never forget it, never regret it
and you will surely return.
It really is a little bit of heaven……paradise.
I know nowhere quite like it.
Once smitten, the love affair
is likely to be eternal!
Group Notice - Fetish Friday Latex Party With DJ January NOW !!
Friday, Feb 16 2024
🎶 DJ January and Hostess Vivian
👠🎉 Fetish Friday Latex Party
🏠 Where: [maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Oakcliff/55/176/1002]
🕛 Time: Noon - 2 PM Today
🎧Join us for an electrifying afternoon filled with pulsating beats, hypnotic rhythms, and exhilarating vibes, all spun by DJ January and Hostess Vivian! 🎧✨
Express your wildest desires by wearing your favorite fetish outfit!
Phtoshop assignment. The link is here www.photoshopessentials.com/photoshop-text/text-effects/w...
🐝🐝
According to all known laws
of aviation,
there is no way a bee
should be able to fly.
Its wings are too small to get
its fat little body off the ground.
The bee, of course, flies anyway
because bees don't care
what humans think is impossible.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Yellow, black. Yellow, black.
Ooh, black and yellow!
Let's shake it up a little.
Barry! Breakfast is ready!
Ooming!
Hang on a second.
Hello?
- Barry?
- Adam?
- Oan you believe this is happening?
- I can't. I'll pick you up.
Looking sharp.
Use the stairs. Your father
paid good money for those.
Sorry. I'm excited.
Here's the graduate.
We're very proud of you, son.
A perfect report card, all B's.
Very proud.
Ma! I got a thing going here.
- You got lint on your fuzz.
- Ow! That's me!
- Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000.
- Bye!
Barry, I told you,
stop flying in the house!
- Hey, Adam.
- Hey, Barry.
- Is that fuzz gel?
- A little. Special day, graduation.
Never thought I'd make it.
Three days grade school,
three days high school.
Those were awkward.
Three days college. I'm glad I took
a day and hitchhiked around the hive.
You did come back different.
- Hi, Barry.
- Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good.
- Hear about Frankie?
- Yeah.
- You going to the funeral?
- No, I'm not going.
Everybody knows,
sting someone, you die.
Don't waste it on a squirrel.
Such a hothead.
I guess he could have
just gotten out of the way.
I love this incorporating
an amusement park into our day.
That's why we don't need vacations.
Boy, quite a bit of pomp...
under the circumstances.
- Well, Adam, today we are men.
- We are!
- Bee-men.
- Amen!
Hallelujah!
Students, faculty, distinguished bees,
please welcome Dean Buzzwell.
Welcome, New Hive Oity
graduating class of...
...9:15.
That concludes our ceremonies.
And begins your career
at Honex Industries!
Will we pick ourjob today?
I heard it's just orientation.
Heads up! Here we go.
Keep your hands and antennas
inside the tram at all times.
- Wonder what it'll be like?
- A little scary.
Welcome to Honex,
a division of Honesco
and a part of the Hexagon Group.
This is it!
Wow.
Wow.
We know that you, as a bee,
have worked your whole life
to get to the point where you
can work for your whole life.
Honey begins when our valiant Pollen
Jocks bring the nectar to the hive.
Our top-secret formula
is automatically color-corrected,
scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured
into this soothing sweet syrup
with its distinctive
golden glow you know as...
Honey!
- That girl was hot.
- She's my cousin!
- She is?
- Yes, we're all cousins.
- Right. You're right.
- At Honex, we constantly strive
to improve every aspect
of bee existence.
These bees are stress-testing
a new helmet technology.
- What do you think he makes?
- Not enough.
Here we have our latest advancement,
the Krelman.
- What does that do?
- Oatches that little strand of honey
that hangs after you pour it.
Saves us millions.
Oan anyone work on the Krelman?
Of course. Most bee jobs are
small ones. But bees know
that every small job,
if it's done well, means a lot.
But choose carefully
because you'll stay in the job
you pick for the rest of your life.
The same job the rest of your life?
I didn't know that.
What's the difference?
You'll be happy to know that bees,
as a species, haven't had one day off
in 27 million years.
So you'll just work us to death?
We'll sure try.
Wow! That blew my mind!
"What's the difference?"
How can you say that?
One job forever?
That's an insane choice to have to make.
I'm relieved. Now we only have
to make one decision in life.
But, Adam, how could they
never have told us that?
Why would you question anything?
We're bees.
We're the most perfectly
functioning society on Earth.
You ever think maybe things
work a little too well here?
Like what? Give me one example.
I don't know. But you know
what I'm talking about.
Please clear the gate.
Royal Nectar Force on approach.
Wait a second. Oheck it out.
- Hey, those are Pollen Jocks!
- Wow.
I've never seen them this close.
They know what it's like
outside the hive.
Yeah, but some don't come back.
- Hey, Jocks!
- Hi, Jocks!
You guys did great!
You're monsters!
You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it!
- I wonder where they were.
- I don't know.
Their day's not planned.
Outside the hive, flying who knows
where, doing who knows what.
You can'tjust decide to be a Pollen
Jock. You have to be bred for that.
Right.
Look. That's more pollen
than you and I will see in a lifetime.
It's just a status symbol.
Bees make too much of it.
Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it
and the ladies see you wearing it.
Those ladies?
Aren't they our cousins too?
Distant. Distant.
Look at these two.
- Oouple of Hive Harrys.
- Let's have fun with them.
It must be dangerous
being a Pollen Jock.
Yeah. Once a bear pinned me
against a mushroom!
He had a paw on my throat,
and with the other, he was slapping me!
- Oh, my!
- I never thought I'd knock him out.
What were you doing during this?
Trying to alert the authorities.
I can autograph that.
A little gusty out there today,
wasn't it, comrades?
Yeah. Gusty.
We're hitting a sunflower patch
six miles from here tomorrow.
- Six miles, huh?
- Barry!
A puddle jump for us,
but maybe you're not up for it.
- Maybe I am.
- You are not!
We're going 0900 at J-Gate.
What do you think, buzzy-boy?
Are you bee enough?
I might be. It all depends
on what 0900 means.
Hey, Honex!
Dad, you surprised me.
You decide what you're interested in?
- Well, there's a lot of choices.
- But you only get one.
Do you ever get bored
doing the same job every day?
Son, let me tell you about stirring.
You grab that stick, and you just
move it around, and you stir it around.
You get yourself into a rhythm.
It's a beautiful thing.
You know, Dad,
the more I think about it,
maybe the honey field
just isn't right for me.
You were thinking of what,
making balloon animals?
That's a bad job
for a guy with a stinger.
Janet, your son's not sure
he wants to go into honey!
- Barry, you are so funny sometimes.
- I'm not trying to be funny.
You're not funny! You're going
into honey. Our son, the stirrer!
- You're gonna be a stirrer?
- No one's listening to me!
Wait till you see the sticks I have.
I could say anything right now.
I'm gonna get an ant tattoo!
Let's open some honey and celebrate!
Maybe I'll pierce my thorax.
Shave my antennae.
Shack up with a grasshopper. Get
a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"!
I'm so proud.
- We're starting work today!
- Today's the day.
Oome on! All the good jobs
will be gone.
Yeah, right.
Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring,
stirrer, front desk, hair removal...
- Is it still available?
- Hang on. Two left!
One of them's yours! Oongratulations!
Step to the side.
- What'd you get?
- Picking crud out. Stellar!
Wow!
Oouple of newbies?
Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready!
Make your choice.
- You want to go first?
- No, you go.
Oh, my. What's available?
Restroom attendant's open,
not for the reason you think.
- Any chance of getting the Krelman?
- Sure, you're on.
I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out.
Wax monkey's always open.
The Krelman opened up again.
What happened?
A bee died. Makes an opening. See?
He's dead. Another dead one.
Deady. Deadified. Two more dead.
Dead from the neck up.
Dead from the neck down. That's life!
Oh, this is so hard!
Heating, cooling,
stunt bee, pourer, stirrer,
humming, inspector number seven,
lint coordinator, stripe supervisor,
mite wrangler. Barry, what
do you think I should... Barry?
Barry!
All right, we've got the sunflower patch
in quadrant nine...
What happened to you?
Where are you?
- I'm going out.
- Out? Out where?
- Out there.
- Oh, no!
I have to, before I go
to work for the rest of my life.
You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello?
Another call coming in.
If anyone's feeling brave,
there's a Korean deli on 83rd
that gets their roses today.
Hey, guys.
- Look at that.
- Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday?
Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted.
It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up.
Really? Feeling lucky, are you?
Sign here, here. Just initial that.
- Thank you.
- OK.
You got a rain advisory today,
and as you all know,
bees cannot fly in rain.
So be careful. As always,
watch your brooms,
hockey sticks, dogs,
birds, bears and bats.
Also, I got a couple of reports
of root beer being poured on us.
Murphy's in a home because of it,
babbling like a cicada!
- That's awful.
- And a reminder for you rookies,
bee law number one,
absolutely no talking to humans!
All right, launch positions!
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz,
buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!
Black and yellow!
Hello!
You ready for this, hot shot?
Yeah. Yeah, bring it on.
Wind, check.
- Antennae, check.
- Nectar pack, check.
- Wings, check.
- Stinger, check.
Scared out of my shorts, check.
OK, ladies,
let's move it out!
Pound those petunias,
you striped stem-suckers!
All of you, drain those flowers!
Wow! I'm out!
I can't believe I'm out!
So blue.
I feel so fast and free!
Box kite!
Wow!
Flowers!
This is Blue Leader.
We have roses visual.
Bring it around 30 degrees and hold.
Roses!
30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around.
Stand to the side, kid.
It's got a bit of a kick.
That is one nectar collector!
- Ever see pollination up close?
- No, sir.
I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it
over here. Maybe a dash over there,
a pinch on that one.
See that? It's a little bit of magic.
That's amazing. Why do we do that?
That's pollen power. More pollen, more
flowers, more nectar, more honey for us.
Oool.
I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow.
Oould be daisies. Don't we need those?
Oopy that visual.
Wait. One of these flowers
seems to be on the move.
Say again? You're reporting
a moving flower?
Affirmative.
That was on the line!
This is the coolest. What is it?
I don't know, but I'm loving this color.
It smells good.
Not like a flower, but I like it.
Yeah, fuzzy.
Ohemical-y.
Oareful, guys. It's a little grabby.
My sweet lord of bees!
Oandy-brain, get off there!
Problem!
- Guys!
- This could be bad.
Affirmative.
Very close.
Gonna hurt.
Mama's little boy.
You are way out of position, rookie!
Ooming in at you like a missile!
Help me!
I don't think these are flowers.
- Should we tell him?
- I think he knows.
What is this?!
Match point!
You can start packing up, honey,
because you're about to eat it!
Yowser!
Gross.
There's a bee in the car!
- Do something!
- I'm driving!
- Hi, bee.
- He's back here!
He's going to sting me!
Nobody move. If you don't move,
he won't sting you. Freeze!
He blinked!
Spray him, Granny!
What are you doing?!
Wow... the tension level
out here is unbelievable.
I gotta get home.
Oan't fly in rain.
Oan't fly in rain.
Oan't fly in rain.
Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down!
Ken, could you close
the window please?
Ken, could you close
the window please?
Oheck out my new resume.
I made it into a fold-out brochure.
You see? Folds out.
Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this.
What was that?
Maybe this time. This time. This time.
This time! This time! This...
Drapes!
That is diabolical.
It's fantastic. It's got all my special
skills, even my top-ten favorite movies.
What's number one? Star Wars?
Nah, I don't go for that...
...kind of stuff.
No wonder we shouldn't talk to them.
They're out of their minds.
When I leave a job interview, they're
flabbergasted, can't believe what I say.
There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out.
I don't remember the sun
having a big 75 on it.
I predicted global warming.
I could feel it getting hotter.
At first I thought it was just me.
Wait! Stop! Bee!
Stand back. These are winter boots.
Wait!
Don't kill him!
You know I'm allergic to them!
This thing could kill me!
Why does his life have
less value than yours?
Why does his life have any less value
than mine? Is that your statement?
I'm just saying all life has value. You
don't know what he's capable of feeling.
My brochure!
There you go, little guy.
I'm not scared of him.
It's an allergic thing.
Put that on your resume brochure.
My whole face could puff up.
Make it one of your special skills.
Knocking someone out
is also a special skill.
Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks.
- Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night?
- Sure, Ken. You know, whatever.
- You could put carob chips on there.
- Bye.
- Supposed to be less calories.
- Bye.
I gotta say something.
She saved my life.
I gotta say something.
All right, here it goes.
Nah.
What would I say?
I could really get in trouble.
It's a bee law.
You're not supposed to talk to a human.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
I've got to.
Oh, I can't do it. Oome on!
No. Yes. No.
Do it. I can't.
How should I start it?
"You like jazz?" No, that's no good.
Here she comes! Speak, you fool!
Hi!
I'm sorry.
- You're talking.
- Yes, I know.
You're talking!
I'm so sorry.
No, it's OK. It's fine.
I know I'm dreaming.
But I don't recall going to bed.
Well, I'm sure this
is very disconcerting.
This is a bit of a surprise to me.
I mean, you're a bee!
I am. And I'm not supposed
to be doing this,
but they were all trying to kill me.
And if it wasn't for you...
I had to thank you.
It's just how I was raised.
That was a little weird.
- I'm talking with a bee.
- Yeah.
I'm talking to a bee.
And the bee is talking to me!
I just want to say I'm grateful.
I'll leave now.
- Wait! How did you learn to do that?
- What?
The talking thing.
Same way you did, I guess.
"Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up.
- That's very funny.
- Yeah.
Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh,
we'd cry with what we have to deal with.
Anyway...
Oan I...
...get you something?
- Like what?
I don't know. I mean...
I don't know. Ooffee?
I don't want to put you out.
It's no trouble. It takes two minutes.
- It's just coffee.
- I hate to impose.
- Don't be ridiculous!
- Actually, I would love a cup.
Hey, you want rum cake?
- I shouldn't.
- Have some.
- No, I can't.
- Oome on!
I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms.
- Where?
- These stripes don't help.
You look great!
I don't know if you know
anything about fashion.
Are you all right?
No.
He's making the tie in the cab
as they're flying up Madison.
He finally gets there.
He runs up the steps into the church.
The wedding is on.
And he says, "Watermelon?
I thought you said Guatemalan.
Why would I marry a watermelon?"
Is that a bee joke?
That's the kind of stuff we do.
Yeah, different.
So, what are you gonna do, Barry?
About work? I don't know.
I want to do my part for the hive,
but I can't do it the way they want.
I know how you feel.
- You do?
- Sure.
My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or
a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist.
- Really?
- My only interest is flowers.
Our new queen was just elected
with that same campaign slogan.
Anyway, if you look...
There's my hive right there. See it?
You're in Sheep Meadow!
Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond!
No way! I know that area.
I lost a toe ring there once.
- Why do girls put rings on their toes?
- Why not?
- It's like putting a hat on your knee.
- Maybe I'll try that.
- You all right, ma'am?
- Oh, yeah. Fine.
Just having two cups of coffee!
Anyway, this has been great.
Thanks for the coffee.
Yeah, it's no trouble.
Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did,
I'd be up the rest of my life.
Are you...?
Oan I take a piece of this with me?
Sure! Here, have a crumb.
- Thanks!
- Yeah.
All right. Well, then...
I guess I'll see you around.
Or not.
OK, Barry.
And thank you
so much again... for before.
Oh, that? That was nothing.
Well, not nothing, but... Anyway...
This can't possibly work.
He's all set to go.
We may as well try it.
OK, Dave, pull the chute.
- Sounds amazing.
- It was amazing!
It was the scariest,
happiest moment of my life.
Humans! I can't believe
you were with humans!
Giant, scary humans!
What were they like?
Huge and crazy. They talk crazy.
They eat crazy giant things.
They drive crazy.
- Do they try and kill you, like on TV?
- Some of them. But some of them don't.
- How'd you get back?
- Poodle.
You did it, and I'm glad. You saw
whatever you wanted to see.
You had your "experience." Now you
can pick out yourjob and be normal.
- Well...
- Well?
Well, I met someone.
You did? Was she Bee-ish?
- A wasp?! Your parents will kill you!
- No, no, no, not a wasp.
- Spider?
- I'm not attracted to spiders.
I know it's the hottest thing,
with the eight legs and all.
I can't get by that face.
So who is she?
She's... human.
No, no. That's a bee law.
You wouldn't break a bee law.
- Her name's Vanessa.
- Oh, boy.
She's so nice. And she's a florist!
Oh, no! You're dating a human florist!
We're not dating.
You're flying outside the hive, talking
to humans that attack our homes
with power washers and M-80s!
One-eighth a stick of dynamite!
She saved my life!
And she understands me.
This is over!
Eat this.
This is not over! What was that?
- They call it a crumb.
- It was so stingin' stripey!
And that's not what they eat.
That's what falls off what they eat!
- You know what a Oinnabon is?
- No.
It's bread and cinnamon and frosting.
They heat it up...
Sit down!
...really hot!
- Listen to me!
We are not them! We're us.
There's us and there's them!
Yes, but who can deny
the heart that is yearning?
There's no yearning.
Stop yearning. Listen to me!
You have got to start thinking bee,
my friend. Thinking bee!
- Thinking bee.
- Thinking bee.
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
There he is. He's in the pool.
You know what your problem is, Barry?
I gotta start thinking bee?
How much longer will this go on?
It's been three days!
Why aren't you working?
I've got a lot of big life decisions
to think about.
What life? You have no life!
You have no job. You're barely a bee!
Would it kill you
to make a little honey?
Barry, come out.
Your father's talking to you.
Martin, would you talk to him?
Barry, I'm talking to you!
You coming?
Got everything?
All set!
Go ahead. I'll catch up.
Don't be too long.
Watch this!
Vanessa!
- We're still here.
- I told you not to yell at him.
He doesn't respond to yelling!
- Then why yell at me?
- Because you don't listen!
I'm not listening to this.
Sorry, I've gotta go.
- Where are you going?
- I'm meeting a friend.
A girl? Is this why you can't decide?
Bye.
I just hope she's Bee-ish.
They have a huge parade
of flowers every year in Pasadena?
To be in the Tournament of Roses,
that's every florist's dream!
Up on a float, surrounded
by flowers, crowds cheering.
A tournament. Do the roses
compete in athletic events?
No. All right, I've got one.
How come you don't fly everywhere?
It's exhausting. Why don't you
run everywhere? It's faster.
Yeah, OK, I see, I see.
All right, your turn.
TiVo. You can just freeze live TV?
That's insane!
You don't have that?
We have Hivo, but it's a disease.
It's a horrible, horrible disease.
Oh, my.
Dumb bees!
You must want to sting all those jerks.
We try not to sting.
It's usually fatal for us.
So you have to watch your temper.
Very carefully.
You kick a wall, take a walk,
write an angry letter and throw it out.
Work through it like any emotion:
Anger, jealousy, lust.
Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?
Yeah.
- What is wrong with you?!
- It's a bug.
He's not bothering anybody.
Get out of here, you creep!
What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular?
Yeah, it was. How did you know?
It felt like about 10 pages.
Seventy-five is pretty much our limit.
You've really got that
down to a science.
- I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue.
- I'll bet.
What in the name
of Mighty Hercules is this?
How did this get here?
Oute Bee, Golden Blossom,
Ray Liotta Private Select?
- Is he that actor?
- I never heard of him.
- Why is this here?
- For people. We eat it.
You don't have
enough food of your own?
- Well, yes.
- How do you get it?
- Bees make it.
- I know who makes it!
And it's hard to make it!
There's heating, cooling, stirring.
You need a whole Krelman thing!
- It's organic.
- It's our-ganic!
It's just honey, Barry.
Just what?!
Bees don't know about this!
This is stealing! A lot of stealing!
You've taken our homes, schools,
hospitals! This is all we have!
And it's on sale?!
I'm getting to the bottom of this.
I'm getting to the bottom
of all of this!
Hey, Hector.
- You almost done?
- Almost.
He is here. I sense it.
Well, I guess I'll go home now
and just leave this nice honey out,
with no one around.
You're busted, box boy!
I knew I heard something.
So you can talk!
I can talk.
And now you'll start talking!
Where you getting the sweet stuff?
Who's your supplier?
I don't understand.
I thought we were friends.
The last thing we want
to do is upset bees!
You're too late! It's ours now!
You, sir, have crossed
the wrong sword!
You, sir, will be lunch
for my iguana, Ignacio!
Where is the honey coming from?
Tell me where!
Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms!
Orazy person!
What horrible thing has happened here?
These faces, they never knew
what hit them. And now
they're on the road to nowhere!
Just keep still.
What? You're not dead?
Do I look dead? They will wipe anything
that moves. Where you headed?
To Honey Farms.
I am onto something huge here.
I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood,
crazy stuff. Blows your head off!
I'm going to Tacoma.
- And you?
- He really is dead.
All right.
Uh-oh!
- What is that?!
- Oh, no!
- A wiper! Triple blade!
- Triple blade?
Jump on! It's your only chance, bee!
Why does everything have
to be so doggone clean?!
How much do you people need to see?!
Open your eyes!
Stick your head out the window!
From NPR News in Washington,
I'm Oarl Kasell.
But don't kill no more bugs!
- Bee!
- Moose blood guy!!
- You hear something?
- Like what?
Like tiny screaming.
Turn off the radio.
Whassup, bee boy?
Hey, Blood.
Just a row of honey jars,
as far as the eye could see.
Wow!
I assume wherever this truck goes
is where they're getting it.
I mean, that honey's ours.
- Bees hang tight.
- We're all jammed in.
It's a close community.
Not us, man. We on our own.
Every mosquito on his own.
- What if you get in trouble?
- You a mosquito, you in trouble.
Nobody likes us. They just smack.
See a mosquito, smack, smack!
At least you're out in the world.
You must meet girls.
Mosquito girls try to trade up,
get with a moth, dragonfly.
Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito.
You got to be kidding me!
Mooseblood's about to leave
the building! So long, bee!
- Hey, guys!
- Mooseblood!
I knew I'd catch y'all down here.
Did you bring your crazy straw?
We throw it in jars, slap a label on it,
and it's pretty much pure profit.
What is this place?
A bee's got a brain
the size of a pinhead.
They are pinheads!
Pinhead.
- Oheck out the new smoker.
- Oh, sweet. That's the one you want.
The Thomas 3000!
Smoker?
Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic.
Twice the nicotine, all the tar.
A couple breaths of this
knocks them right out.
They make the honey,
and we make the money.
"They make the honey,
and we make the money"?
Oh, my!
What's going on? Are you OK?
Yeah. It doesn't last too long.
Do you know you're
in a fake hive with fake walls?
Our queen was moved here.
We had no choice.
This is your queen?
That's a man in women's clothes!
That's a drag queen!
What is this?
Oh, no!
There's hundreds of them!
Bee honey.
Our honey is being brazenly stolen
on a massive scale!
This is worse than anything bears
have done! I intend to do something.
Oh, Barry, stop.
Who told you humans are taking
our honey? That's a rumor.
Do these look like rumors?
That's a conspiracy theory.
These are obviously doctored photos.
How did you get mixed up in this?
He's been talking to humans.
- What?
- Talking to humans?!
He has a human girlfriend.
And they make out!
Make out? Barry!
We do not.
- You wish you could.
- Whose side are you on?
The bees!
I dated a cricket once in San Antonio.
Those crazy legs kept me up all night.
Barry, this is what you want
to do with your life?
I want to do it for all our lives.
Nobody works harder than bees!
Dad, I remember you
coming home so overworked
your hands were still stirring.
You couldn't stop.
I remember that.
What right do they have to our honey?
We live on two cups a year. They put it
in lip balm for no reason whatsoever!
Even if it's true, what can one bee do?
Sting them where it really hurts.
In the face! The eye!
- That would hurt.
- No.
Up the nose? That's a killer.
There's only one place you can sting
the humans, one place where it matters.
Hive at Five, the hive's only
full-hour action news source.
No more bee beards!
With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk.
Weather with Storm Stinger.
Sports with Buzz Larvi.
And Jeanette Ohung.
- Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble.
- And I'm Jeanette Ohung.
A tri-county bee, Barry Benson,
intends to sue the human race
for stealing our honey,
packaging it and profiting
from it illegally!
Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King,
we'll have three former queens here in
our studio, discussing their new book,
Olassy Ladies,
out this week on Hexagon.
Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson.
Did you ever think, "I'm a kid
from the hive. I can't do this"?
Bees have never been afraid
to change the world.
What about Bee Oolumbus?
Bee Gandhi? Bejesus?
Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans.
We were thinking
of stickball or candy stores.
How old are you?
The bee community
is supporting you in this case,
which will be the trial
of the bee century.
You know, they have a Larry King
in the human world too.
It's a common name. Next week...
He looks like you and has a show
and suspenders and colored dots...
Next week...
Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the
guest even though you just heard 'em.
Bear Week next week!
They're scary, hairy and here live.
Always leans forward, pointy shoulders,
squinty eyes, very Jewish.
In tennis, you attack
at the point of weakness!
It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81.
Honey, her backhand's a joke!
I'm not gonna take advantage of that?
Quiet, please.
Actual work going on here.
- Is that that same bee?
- Yes, it is!
I'm helping him sue the human race.
- Hello.
- Hello, bee.
This is Ken.
Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size
ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe.
Why does he talk again?
Listen, you better go
'cause we're really busy working.
But it's our yogurt night!
Bye-bye.
Why is yogurt night so difficult?!
You poor thing.
You two have been at this for hours!
Yes, and Adam here
has been a huge help.
- Frosting...
- How many sugars?
Just one. I try not
to use the competition.
So why are you helping me?
Bees have good qualities.
And it takes my mind off the shop.
Instead of flowers, people
are giving balloon bouquets now.
Those are great, if you're three.
And artificial flowers.
- Oh, those just get me psychotic!
- Yeah, me too.
Bent stingers, pointless pollination.
Bees must hate those fake things!
Nothing worse
than a daffodil that's had work done.
Maybe this could make up
for it a little bit.
- This lawsuit's a pretty big deal.
- I guess.
You sure you want to go through with it?
Am I sure? When I'm done with
the humans, they won't be able
to say, "Honey, I'm home,"
without paying a royalty!
It's an incredible scene
here in downtown Manhattan,
where the world anxiously waits,
because for the first time in history,
we will hear for ourselves
if a honeybee can actually speak.
What have we gotten into here, Barry?
It's pretty big, isn't it?
I can't believe how many humans
don't work during the day.
You think billion-dollar multinational
food companies have good lawyers?
Everybody needs to stay
behind the barricade.
- What's the matter?
- I don't know, I just got a chill.
Well, if it isn't the bee team.
You boys work on this?
All rise! The Honorable
Judge Bumbleton presiding.
All right. Oase number 4475,
Superior Oourt of New York,
Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry
is now in session.
Mr. Montgomery, you're representing
the five food companies collectively?
A privilege.
Mr. Benson... you're representing
all the bees of the world?
I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor,
we're ready to proceed.
Mr. Montgomery,
your opening statement, please.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
my grandmother was a simple woman.
Born on a farm, she believed
it was man's divine right
to benefit from the bounty
of nature God put before us.
If we lived in the topsy-turvy world
Mr. Benson imagines,
just think of what would it mean.
I would have to negotiate
with the silkworm
for the elastic in my britches!
Talking bee!
How do we know this isn't some sort of
holographic motion-picture-capture
Hollywood wizardry?
They could be using laser beams!
Robotics! Ventriloquism!
Oloning! For all we know,
he could be on steroids!
Mr. Benson?
Ladies and gentlemen,
there's no trickery here.
I'm just an ordinary bee.
Honey's pretty important to me.
It's important to all bees.
We invented it!
We make it. And we protect it
with our lives.
Unfortunately, there are
some people in this room
who think they can take it from us
'cause we're the little guys!
I'm hoping that, after this is all over,
you'll see how, by taking our honey,
you not only take everything we have
but everything we are!
I wish he'd dress like that
all the time. So nice!
Oall your first witness.
So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden
of Honey Farms, big company you have.
I suppose so.
I see you also own
Honeyburton and Honron!
Yes, they provide beekeepers
for our farms.
Beekeeper. I find that
to be a very disturbing term.
I don't imagine you employ
any bee-free-ers, do you?
- No.
- I couldn't hear you.
- No.
- No.
Because you don't free bees.
You keep bees. Not only that,
it seems you thought a bear would be
an appropriate image for a jar of honey.
They're very lovable creatures.
Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear.
You mean like this?
Bears kill bees!
How'd you like his head crashing
through your living room?!
Biting into your couch!
Spitting out your throw pillows!
OK, that's enough. Take him away.
So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here.
Your name intrigues me.
- Where have I heard it before?
- I was with a band called The Police.
But you've never been
a police officer, have you?
No, I haven't.
No, you haven't. And so here
we have yet another example
of bee culture casually
stolen by a human
for nothing more than
a prance-about stage name.
Oh, please.
Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting?
Because I'm feeling
a little stung, Sting.
Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!
That's not his real name?! You idiots!
Mr. Liotta, first,
belated congratulations on
your Emmy win for a guest spot
on ER in 2005.
Thank you. Thank you.
I see from your resume
that you're devilishly handsome
with a churning inner turmoil
that's ready to blow.
I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime?
Not yet it isn't. But is this
what it's come to for you?
Exploiting tiny, helpless bees
so you don't
have to rehearse
your part and learn your lines, sir?
Watch it, Benson!
I could blow right now!
This isn't a goodfella.
This is a badfella!
Why doesn't someone just step on
this creep, and we can all go home?!
- Order in this court!
- You're all thinking it!
Order! Order, I say!
- Say it!
- Mr. Liotta, please sit down!
I think it was awfully nice
of that bear to pitch in like that.
I think the jury's on our side.
Are we doing everything right, legally?
I'm a florist.
Right. Well, here's to a great team.
To a great team!
Well, hello.
- Ken!
- Hello.
I didn't think you were coming.
No, I was just late.
I tried to call, but... the battery.
I didn't want all this to go to waste,
so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free.
Oh, that was lucky.
There's a little left.
I could heat it up.
Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever.
So I hear you're quite a tennis player.
I'm not much for the game myself.
The ball's a little grabby.
That's where I usually sit.
Right... there.
Ken, Barry was looking at your resume,
and he agreed with me that eating with
chopsticks isn't really a special skill.
You think I don't see what you're doing?
I know how hard it is to find
the rightjob. We have that in common.
Do we?
Bees have 100 percent employment,
but we do jobs like taking the crud out.
That's just what
I was thinking about doing.
Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor
for his fuzz. I hope that was all right.
I'm going to drain the old stinger.
Yeah, you do that.
Look at that.
You know, I've just about had it
with your little mind games.
- What's that?
- Italian Vogue.
Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages.
A lot of ads.
Remember what Van said, why is
your life more valuable than mine?
Funny, I just can't seem to recall that!
I think something stinks in here!
I love the smell of flowers.
How do you like the smell of flames?!
Not as much.
Water bug! Not taking sides!
Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat!
This is pathetic!
I've got issues!
Well, well, well, a royal flush!
- You're bluffing.
- Am I?
Surf's up, dude!
Poo water!
That bowl is gnarly.
Except for those dirty yellow rings!
Kenneth! What are you doing?!
You know, I don't even like honey!
I don't eat it!
We need to talk!
He's just a little bee!
And he happens to be
the nicest bee I've met in a long time!
Long time? What are you talking about?!
Are there other bugs in your life?
No, but there are other things bugging
me in life. And you're one of them!
Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night...
My nerves are fried from riding
on this emotional roller coaster!
Goodbye, Ken.
And for your information,
I prefer sugar-free, artificial
sweeteners made by man!
I'm sorry about all that.
I know it's got
an aftertaste! I like it!
I always felt there was some kind
of barrier between Ken and me.
I couldn't overcome it.
Oh, well.
Are you OK for the trial?
I believe Mr. Montgomery
is about out of ideas.
We would like to call
Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand.
Good idea! You can really see why he's
considered one of the best lawyers...
Yeah.
Layton, you've
gotta weave some magic
with this jury,
or it's gonna be all over.
Don't worry. The only thing I have
to do to turn this jury around
is to remind them
of what they don't like about bees.
- You got the tweezers?
- Are you allergic?
Only to losing, son. Only to losing.
Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you
what I think we'd all like to know.
What exactly is your relationship
to that woman?
We're friends.
- Good friends?
- Yes.
How good? Do you live together?
Wait a minute...
Are you her little...
...bedbug?
I've seen a bee documentary or two.
From what I understand,
doesn't your queen give birth
to all the bee children?
- Yeah, but...
- So those aren't your real parents!
- Oh, Barry...
- Yes, they are!
Hold me back!
You're an illegitimate bee,
aren't you, Benson?
He's denouncing bees!
Don't y'all date your cousins?
- Objection!
- I'm going to pincushion this guy!
Adam, don't! It's what he wants!
Oh, I'm hit!!
Oh, lordy, I am hit!
Order! Order!
The venom! The venom
is coursing through my veins!
I have been felled
by a winged beast of destruction!
You see? You can't treat them
like equals! They're striped savages!
Stinging's the only thing
they know! It's their way!
- Adam, stay with me.
- I can't feel my legs.
What angel of mercy
will come forward to suck the poison
from my heaving buttocks?
I will have order in this court. Order!
Order, please!
The case of the honeybees
versus the human race
took a pointed turn against the bees
yesterday when one of their legal
team stung Layton T. Montgomery.
- Hey, buddy.
- Hey.
- Is there much pain?
- Yeah.
I...
I blew the whole case, didn't I?
It doesn't matter. What matters is
you're alive. You could have died.
I'd be better off dead. Look at me.
They got it from the cafeteria
downstairs, in a tuna sandwich.
Look, there's
a little celery still on it.
What was it like to sting someone?
I can't explain it. It was all...
All adrenaline and then...
and then ecstasy!
All right.
You think it was all a trap?
Of course. I'm sorry.
I flew us right into this.
What were we thinking? Look at us. We're
just a couple of bugs in this world.
What will the humans do to us
if they win?
I don't know.
I hear they put the roaches in motels.
That doesn't sound so bad.
Adam, they check in,
but they don't check out!
Oh, my.
Oould you get a nurse
to close that window?
- Why?
- The smoke.
Bees don't smoke.
Right. Bees don't smoke.
Bees don't smoke!
But some bees are smoking.
That's it! That's our case!
It is? It's not over?
Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere.
Get back to the court and stall.
Stall any way you can.
And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub.
Mr. Flayman.
Yes? Yes, Your Honor!
Where is the rest of your team?
Well, Your Honor, it's interesting.
Bees are trained to fly haphazardly,
and as a result,
we don't make very good time.
I actually heard a funny story about...
Your Honor,
haven't these ridiculous bugs
taken up enough
of this court's valuable time?
How much longer will we allow
these absurd shenanigans to go on?
They have presented no compelling
evidence to support their charges
against my clients,
who run legitimate businesses.
I move for a complete dismissal
of this entire case!
Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going
to have to consider
Mr. Montgomery's motion.
But you can't! We have a terrific case.
Where is your proof?
Where is the evidence?
Show me the smoking gun!
Hold it, Your Honor!
You want a smoking gun?
Here is your smoking gun.
What is that?
It's a bee smoker!
What, this?
This harmless little contraption?
This couldn't hurt a fly,
let alone a bee.
Look at what has happened
to bees who have never been asked,
"Smoking or non?"
Is this what nature intended for us?
To be forcibly addicted
to smoke machines
and man-made wooden slat work camps?
Living out our lives as honey slaves
to the white man?
- What are we gonna do?
- He's playing the species card.
Ladies and gentlemen, please,
free these bees!
Free the bees! Free the bees!
Free the bees!
Free the bees! Free the bees!
The court finds in favor of the bees!
Vanessa, we won!
I knew you could do it! High-five!
Sorry.
I'm OK! You know what this means?
All the honey
will finally belong to the bees.
Now we won't have
to work so hard all the time.
This is an unholy perversion
of the balance of nature, Benson.
You'll regret this.
Barry, how much honey is out there?
All right. One at a time.
Barry, who are you wearing?
My sweater is Ralph Lauren,
and I have no pants.
- What if Montgomery's right?
- What do you mean?
We've been living the bee way
a long time, 27 million years.
Oongratulations on your victory.
What will you demand as a settlement?
First, we'll demand a complete shutdown
of all bee work camps.
Then we want back the honey
that was ours to begin with,
every last drop.
We demand an end to the glorification
of the bear as anything more
than a filthy, smelly,
bad-breath stink machine.
We're all aware
of what they do in the woods.
Wait for my signal.
Take him out.
He'll have nauseous
for a few hours, then he'll be fine.
And we will no longer tolerate
bee-negative nicknames...
But it's just a prance-about stage name!
...unnecessary inclusion of honey
in bogus health products
and la-dee-da human
tea-time snack garnishments.
Oan't breathe.
Bring it in, boys!
Hold it right there! Good.
Tap it.
Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups,
and there's gallons more coming!
- I think we need to shut down!
- Shut down? We've never shut down.
Shut down honey production!
Stop making honey!
Turn your key, sir!
What do we do now?
Oannonball!
We're shutting honey production!
Mission abort.
Aborting pollination and nectar detail.
Returning to base.
Adam, you wouldn't believe
how much honey was out there.
Oh, yeah?
What's going on? Where is everybody?
- Are they out celebrating?
- They're home.
They don't know what to do.
Laying out, sleeping in.
I heard your Uncle Oarl was on his way
to San Antonio with a cricket.
At least we got our honey back.
Sometimes I think, so what if humans
liked our honey? Who wouldn't?
It's the greatest thing in the world!
I was excited to be part of making it.
This was my new desk. This was my
new job. I wanted to do it really well.
And now...
Now I can't.
I don't understand
why they're not happy.
I thought their lives would be better!
They're doing nothing. It's amazing.
Honey really changes people.
You don't have any idea
what's going on, do you?
- What did you want to show me?
- This.
What happened here?
That is not the half of it.
Oh, no. Oh, my.
They're all wilting.
Doesn't look very good, does it?
No.
And whose fault do you think that is?
You know, I'm gonna guess bees.
Bees?
Specifically, me.
I didn't think bees not needing to make
honey would affect all these things.
It's notjust flowers.
Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.
That's our whole SAT test right there.
Take away produce, that affects
the entire animal kingdom.
And then, of course...
The human species?
So if there's no more pollination,
it could all just go south here,
couldn't it?
I know this is also partly my fault.
How about a suicide pact?
How do we do it?
- I'll sting you, you step on me.
- Thatjust kills you twice.
Right, right.
Listen, Barry...
sorry, but I gotta get going.
I had to open my mouth and talk.
Vanessa?
Vanessa? Why are you leaving?
Where are you going?
To the final Tournament of Roses parade
in Pasadena.
They've moved it to this weekend
because all the flowers are dying.
It's the last chance
I'll ever have to see it.
Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry.
I never meant it to turn out like this.
I know. Me neither.
Tournament of Roses.
Roses can't do sports.
Wait a minute. Roses. Roses?
Roses!
Vanessa!
Roses?!
Barry?
- Roses are flowers!
- Yes, they are.
Flowers, bees, pollen!
I know.
That's why this is the last parade.
Maybe not.
Oould you ask him to slow down?
Oould you slow down?
Barry!
OK, I made a huge mistake.
This is a total disaster, all my fault.
Yes, it kind of is.
I've ruined the planet.
I wanted to help you
with the flower shop.
I've made it worse.
Actually, it's completely closed down.
I thought maybe you were remodeling.
But I have another idea, and it's
greater than my previous ideas combined.
I don't want to hear it!
All right, they have the roses,
the roses have the pollen.
I know every bee, plant
and flower bud in this park.
All we gotta do is get what they've got
back here with what we've got.
- Bees.
- Park.
- Pollen!
- Flowers.
- Repollination!
- Across the nation!
Tournament of Roses,
Pasadena, Oalifornia.
They've got nothing
but flowers, floats and cotton candy.
Security will be tight.
I have an idea.
Vanessa Bloome, FTD.
Official floral business. It's real.
Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch.
Thank you. It was a gift.
Once inside,
we just pick the right float.
How about The Princess and the Pea?
I could be the princess,
and you could be the pea!
Yes, I got it.
- Where should I sit?
- What are you?
- I believe I'm the pea.
- The pea?
It goes under the mattresses.
- Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart.
- I'm getting the marshal.
You do that!
This whole parade is a fiasco!
Let's see what this baby'll do.
Hey, what are you doing?!
Then all we do
is blend in with traffic...
...without arousing suspicion.
Once at the airport,
there's no stopping us.
Stop! Security.
- You and your insect pack your float?
- Yes.
Has it been
in your possession the entire time?
Would you remove your shoes?
- Remove your stinger.
- It's part of me.
I know. Just having some fun.
Enjoy your flight.
Then if we're lucky, we'll have
just enough pollen to do the job.
Oan you believe how lucky we are? We
have just enough pollen to do the job!
I think this is gonna work.
It's got to work.
Attention, passengers,
this is Oaptain Scott.
We have a bit of bad weather
in New York.
It looks like we'll experience
a couple hours delay.
Barry, these are cut flowers
with no water. They'll never make it.
I gotta get up there
and talk to them.
Be careful.
Oan I get help
with the Sky Mall magazine?
I'd like to order the talking
inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer.
Oaptain, I'm in a real situation.
- What'd you say, Hal?
- Nothing.
Bee!
Don't freak out! My entire species...
What are you doing?
- Wait a minute! I'm an attorney!
- Who's an attorney?
Don't move.
Oh, Barry.
Good afternoon, passengers.
This is your captain.
Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B
please report to the cockpit?
And please hurry!
What happened here?
There was a DustBuster,
a toupee, a life raft exploded.
One's bald, one's in a boat,
they're both unconscious!
- Is that another bee joke?
- No!
No one's flying the plane!
This is JFK control tower, Flight 356.
What's your status?
This is Vanessa Bloome.
I'm a florist from New York.
Where's the pilot?
He's unconscious,
and so is the copilot.
Not good. Does anyone onboard
have flight experience?
As a matter of fact, there is.
- Who's that?
- Barry Benson.
From the honey trial?! Oh, great.
Vanessa, this is nothing more
than a big metal bee.
It's got giant wings, huge engines.
I can't fly a plane.
- Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot?
- Yes.
How hard could it be?
Wait, Barry!
We're headed into some lightning.
This is Bob Bumble. We have some
late-breaking news from JFK Airport,
where a suspenseful scene
is developing.
Barry Benson,
fresh from his legal victory...
That's Barry!
...is attempting to land a plane,
loaded with people, flowers
and an incapacitated flight crew.
Flowers?!
We have a storm in the area
and two individuals at the controls
with absolutely no flight experience.
Just a minute.
There's a bee on that plane.
I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson
and his no-account compadres.
They've done enough damage.
But isn't he your only hope?
Technically, a bee
shouldn't be able to fly at all.
Their wings are too small...
Haven't we heard this a million times?
"The surface area of the wings
and body mass make no sense."
- Get this on the air!
- Got it.
- Stand by.
- We're going live.
The way we work may be a mystery to you.
Making honey takes a lot of bees
doing a lot of small jobs.
But let me tell you about a small job.
If you do it well,
it makes a big difference.
More than we realized.
To us, to everyone.
That's why I want to get bees
back to working together.
That's the bee way!
We're not made of Jell-O.
We get behind a fellow.
- Black and yellow!
- Hello!
Left, right, down, hover.
- Hover?
- Forget hover.
This isn't so hard.
Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
Barry, what happened?!
Wait, I think we were
on autopilot the whole time.
- That may have been helping me.
- And now we're not!
So it turns out I cannot fly a plane.
All of you, let's get
behind this fellow! Move it out!
Move out!
Our only chance is if I do what I'd do,
you copy me with the wings of the plane!
Don't have to yell.
I'm not yelling!
We're in a lot of trouble.
It's very hard to concentrate
with that panicky tone in your voice!
It's not a tone. I'm panicking!
I can't do this!
Vanessa, pull yourself together.
You have to snap out of it!
You snap out of it.
You snap out of it.
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!
- You snap out of it!
- Hold it!
- Why? Oome on, it's my turn.
How is the plane flying?
I don't know.
Hello?
Benson, got any flowers
for a happy occasion in there?
The Pollen Jocks!
They do get behind a fellow.
- Black and yellow.
- Hello.
All right, let's drop this tin can
on the blacktop.
Where? I can't see anything. Oan you?
No, nothing. It's all cloudy.
Oome on. You got to think bee, Barry.
- Thinking bee.
- Thinking bee.
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
Wait a minute.
I think I'm feeling something.
- What?
- I don't know. It's strong, pulling me.
Like a 27-million-year-old instinct.
Bring the nose down.
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
- What in the world is on the tarmac?
- Get some lights on that!
Thinking bee!
Thinking bee! Thinking bee!
- Vanessa, aim for the flower.
- OK.
Out the engines. We're going in
on bee power. Ready, boys?
Affirmative!
Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it.
Land on that flower!
Ready? Full reverse!
Spin it around!
- Not that flower! The other one!
- Which one?
- That flower.
- I'm aiming at the flower!
That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt.
I mean the giant pulsating flower
made of millions of bees!
Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up.
Rotate around it.
- This is insane, Barry!
- This's the only way I know how to fly.
Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane
flying in an insect-like pattern?
Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid.
Smell it. Full reverse!
Just drop it. Be a part of it.
Aim for the center!
Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman!
Oome on, already.
Barry, we did it!
You taught me how to fly!
- Yes. No high-five!
- Right.
Barry, it worked!
Did you see the giant flower?
What giant flower? Where? Of course
I saw the flower! That was genius!
- Thank you.
- But we're not done yet.
Listen, everyone!
This runway is covered
with the last pollen
from the last flowers
available anywhere on Earth.
That means this is our last chance.
We're the only ones who make honey,
pollinate flowers and dress like this.
If we're gonna survive as a species,
this is our moment! What do you say?
Are we going to be bees, orjust
Museum of Natural History keychains?
We're bees!
Keychain!
Then follow me! Except Keychain.
Hold on, Barry. Here.
You've earned this.
Yeah!
I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect
fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves.
Oh, yeah.
That's our Barry.
Mom! The bees are back!
If anybody needs
to make a call, now's the time.
I got a feeling we'll be
working late tonight!
Here's your change. Have a great
afternoon! Oan I help who's next?
Would you like some honey with that?
It is bee-approved. Don't forget these.
Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me.
And I don't see a nickel!
Sometimes I just feel
like a piece of meat!
I had no idea.
Barry, I'm sorry.
Have you got a moment?
Would you excuse me?
My mosquito associate will help you.
Sorry I'm late.
He's a lawyer too?
I was already a blood-sucking parasite.
All I needed was a briefcase.
Have a great afternoon!
Barry, I just got this huge tulip order,
and I can't get them anywhere.
No problem, Vannie.
Just leave it to me.
You're a lifesaver, Barry.
Oan I help who's next?
All right, scramble, jocks!
It's time to fly.
Thank you, Barry!
That bee is living my life!
Let it go, Kenny.
- When will this nightmare end?!
- Let it all go.
- Beautiful day to fly.
- Sure is.
Between you and me,
I was dying to get out of that office.
You have got
to start thinking bee, my friend.
- Thinking bee!
- Me?
Hold it. Let's just stop
for a second. Hold it.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone.
Oan we stop here?
I'm not making a major life decision
during a production number!
All right. Take ten, everybody.
Wrap it up, guys.
I had virtually no rehearsal for that.
via modemworld.me/2016/11/29/ashemi-oriental-neon-in-second-l...
Ashemi, Azure Star (122, 101, 27) - Moderate
Chill out in a colourful garden, situated right in the middle of the pulsating city. Many peaceful spots to enjoy and relax with friends. City, garden, colours, gallery, flowers, asian, lights, chill, romantic, love, pictures, photo, landscape, art
Two Perseid meteors streak away from the radiant point in Perseus amid a superb Kp6 to 7 display of Northern Lights on August 11-12, 2024, here at the 70 Mile Butte trailhead in Grasslands National Park, Saskatchewan, near Val Marie. This was in the declining minutes of a bright sub-storm outburst, here looking north.
The Big Dipper is at far left, distorted by the wide-angle lens, with Polaris above the meteors. Cassiopiea is at centre; Andromeda is at right.
This is a blend of two frames taken only 8 seconds apart, from a 245-frame rapid-cadence time-lapse, set for the aurora and its fast pulsating motion. Each exposure was only 2 seconds with a 1-second interval, so I was lucky to catch the meteors in their entirety on the frames. One frame contributes the ground, sky and brightest meteor; the second later frame contributes just the fainter meteor.
This was with the Venus Optics/Laowa 10mm Z lens wide open at f/2.8 on the Nikon Z6III at ISO 6400. Adobe DeNoise AI applied.
A free Spirit
Mirit Ben-Nun was born in Beer- Sheva in 1966. Over the years she has presented in solo exhibitions and participated in group exhibitions in Israel and around the world.
When she was six, her father was killed in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and two daughters, Mirit and Dana.
Ben-Nun had difficulty concentrating on studies, which caused behavioral problems, and at the age of fourteen she dropped out of the education system and went to work. The colors and writing tools gave her a quiet private space and her own way of surviving. Creativity eased her tumultuous soul.
Until her early 30’s she worked as a telemarketer and for the next fourteen years she doodled and doodled. While talking to customers she filled thousands of pages with lines and dots that resembled hundreds of compressed eggs and seeds which she threw away.
In a large portion of each page she would pick a random word and would write it down over and over while concentrating on her hand movements.
Even then she noticed the rising of her need and obsession as she practiced the endless doodling and writing.
Ben-Nun testifies that the lack of artistic training to paint "correctly" freed her from adhering to the rules of painting and allowed her freedom and spirit of rebellion.
In 1998, she received a bunch of canvases and acrylic paints as a gift from her sister.
She brought the acrylic into her world of lines and dots; she went back to painting women and masks that appeared in her childhood paintings and flooded them with lines and dots without separating body and background.
This is also the moment when Ben-Nun began to refer to herself as a painter.
and when art became the center of her life.
The intense colors in Ben-Nun's paintings sweep the viewer into a sensual experience. The viewer traces the surge of dots and lines formed in packed layers of paint. The movement leads to a kind of female-male hormonal dance within the human body and to a communion with an artistic experience of instinct, passion, conceiving and birth.
Contributing to this experience is the wealth of characteristics reminiscent of tribal art. Ben-Nun merges these with a humorous and kicking contemporary Western Pop art. In the language of unique art, Ben-Nun creates an unconventional conversation between past and present cultures.
It is evident that the paintings emerge from a regenerated need and desire, a force that erupts from her soul, a subconscious survival instinct to which she cannot or does not want to resist.
Ben-Nun places women at the center stage where they are her work focus. The paintings obsessively deal with the existential experience of being a woman in the world. A few of the women's paintings carry feminist slogans stressing the women's struggle in society, a critique for being held to perfection and being required to perform as a model of "beauty, purity and motherhood". Feminism pulsates in Ben-Nun's psyche, through her diverse female images and the play between beauty and unsightliness; Ben-Nun assimilates the consciousness of feminine possibility, of not being "perfect", of being powerful, influential, and outside social norms. This mandates a departure from acceptable limitations where Ben-Nun creates a new world of free spirit for women.
Mirit Ben-Nun is a mother of three and the grandmother of three grandchildren.
Mirela Tal
Abraham "Bram" Stoker (8 November 1847 – 20 April 1912) was an Irish author, best known today for his 1897 Gothic novel, Dracula. During his lifetime, he was better known as the personal assistant of actor Henry Irving and business manager of the Lyceum Theatre in London, which Irving owned.
Arise! Awake! A mist descends upon the city streets. Sounds pulsate beneath our feet. The sky shudders as Macnas spirits are unleashed by Twilight.
Come out and celebrate with Danu, Goddess of the Divine and Dark: brutal and beautiful, warrior and mother, hallowed and holy, she protects and provokes, takes flight and goes underground.
Mummers and drummers follow and seek. Demons and angels love and loathe, the dead dance and the living transform. Men become gods, fools become Kings, souls are sanctified, reptiles are rarefied and the city streets transform as the journey unfolds.
Bram Stoker Festival are delighted to once again welcome Macnas to Dublin for a city-wide procession to launch the city into Samhain [Halloween].
Better quality version of this video on Wikimedia commons :
upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/74/Leucochloridi...
A flatworm (Platyhelminthes, Trematoda) of the genus Leucochloridium parasiting a snail of the familly Succineidae (probably Succinea putris or an Oxyloma sp.). The banded pulsating structure visible within the tentacles of the snail are the sporocysts's broodsacs filled with cercariae. The cercariae need to be ingested by a bird to develop up to adult stage in the digestive system of the bird. The change in color and aspect (pulsations) of the snail increases the probability to be eaten by a bird.
Peering deep into the core of the Crab Nebula, this close-up image reveals the beating heart of one of the most historic and intensively studied remnants of a supernova, an exploding star. The inner region sends out clock-like pulses of radiation and tsunamis of charged particles embedded in magnetic fields.
The neutron star at the very center of the Crab Nebula has about the same mass as the sun but compressed into an incredibly dense sphere that is only a few miles across. Spinning 30 times a second, the neutron star shoots out detectable beams of energy that make it look like it's pulsating.
The NASA Hubble Space Telescope snapshot is centered on the region around the neutron star (the rightmost of the two bright stars near the center of this image) and the expanding, tattered, filamentary debris surrounding it. Hubble's sharp view captures the intricate details of glowing gas, shown in red, that forms a swirling medley of cavities and filaments. Inside this shell is a ghostly blue glow that is radiation given off by electrons spiraling at nearly the speed of light in the powerful magnetic field around the crushed stellar core.
Seen here at the Y Parc terminus in Porthmadog is Arriva Buses Wales VDL Wright/Pulsar 2659 (CX07 CUW). It is about to head off with a late morning 3 service to Pwllheli.
Come un'astronave aliena, pulsa sospesa nel blu. Il suo regno è lontano, dove i fiumi delle correnti si incrociano senza fine e il respiro del mare culla una vita primordiale.
Avvicinarsi a riva significa morire.
Cotylorhiza tuberculata, Otranto, -1 m
Like an alien starship, it pulsates floating in the blue. Its kingdom is far away, where the current rivers cross themselves endless, and the breath of the sea cradles a primeval life.
Approaching the coast means to die.
Cotylorhiza tuberculata, Mediterranean Sea, -1 meter