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This is a closeup of a Kodak Carousel that holds slides for viewing.
I like the way the light is glowing out of the centre as if there was going to be a volcanic eruption.
Thereis a wider view in the adjacent shot to give a better idea of the shape for those that are not familiar with these dinosaurs.
This photo is so grainy and so cool and black and white and taken at an obscure basement gig in the 70s with a home-made jar-camera! YEAH!
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Vegan FAQ! :)
The Web Site the Meat Industry Doesn't Want You to See.
Please watch Earthlings.
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You can reach me at yoze83 [AT] yahoo.com
Buy Me a Coffee. Thanks in advance. :)
Identifier: germanypainted00dick
Title: Germany;
Authors: Dickie, James F., 1848- Compton, Edward Theodore, ill Compton, E. Harrison (Edward Harrison), ill
Subjects: Germany -- Description and travel
Publisher: London : A. & C. Black
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN
View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
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ornn aharmonious whole. We are delighted with itsfine old chapel, its armoury, its old torn flags, itsmagnificent rooms filled with antique furniture andmost artistic mosaics. The courtyard, the watchtowers, and the platform whence the defenderslooked down upon their foes in days of old, absorbour interest. This Burg, wellnigh a thousandyears old, was a little world in itself The knightsand men-at-arms seem to come at our call andpeople the ancient Burg again with the stirringlife of the days when might was right. Thereis something in us all, despite rumours of universaldisarmament and perpetual peace, that delights inthe sound of the bugle, and rejoices in the clashand clang of armour. Gone are the old bravedays: The knights are dust,Their swords are rust,Their souls are with the saints, we trust. There are three ways of going from Eltz toCochem—by steamer, by railway, or, best of all,like Bayard Taylor, afoot. The old town goesback to the days of the Celts, long before Rome COCHEM
Text Appearing After Image:
IN THE MOSEL LAND 125 sent its legions hither. It is therefore rich inCeltic, Roman, and mediaeval remains. Its narrowcrooked streets cling to the hillside. Its modernhotels line the rivers banks. It exercises a fascina-tion over the artist. Singers and players come herein high summer for rest. The surrounding hills areclothed with such refreshing green, and the riverruns by with such a leisurely grace, that caresvanish, and weary heart and tired brain experienceagain the joy of living. Under the strange oldarch that spans the narrow street, we pass into asuccession of gardens and go up the steep hillsideto Burg Cochem. This Burg was destroyed by theFrench during the wars of the Revolution, and wasa heap of desolation and ruin for a century. Thenit was restored by its new proprietor, Ravenne ofBerlin, who is a great lover of art and a munificentMaecenas to the museums of Germany. From theinner court we look down on the Mosel. Vine-yards cover every spot of earth. The river turnsand wi
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Please note that these images are extracted from scanned page images that may have been digitally enhanced for readability - coloration and appearance of these illustrations may not perfectly resemble the original work.
HEY
THIS IS ONLY LIKE
2 MONTHS LATE
DON'T HURT ME
OR JUDGE ME.
--
hi this was taken on august 16th and uploaded on the 20th i'm cool like that
God in Heaven made us aware of all the media there is in our surroundings...and everything thereis on land, the sky, the waters and even in space...from the simplest basic needs...from our house...to everything we use...to all cities and nations there is...then we are asked if these truly are Spiritually healthy for Humanity and for future generations to come...then we face God with only our Soul...as our essence of our existence on Earth...and that is Love...and Love is our Paradise...
Fall Festival, October 14, 2018. Photo by Maria Stenzel.
ìI like it more burnt,î argued Stanley Dunwell í20 of Atlanta. The proof is in the tasting, and if thereís a little mess, who cares? Every year, Dunwell appreciates the simple fun of the festival.
ìWhen do you get to go in a bounce house with your friends, meet faculty and staff and their children?î he asked. ìI love the food, and meeting all my friends here.î
Fall Festival, October 14, 2018. Photo by Maria Stenzel.
ìI like it more burnt,î argued Stanley Dunwell í20 of Atlanta. The proof is in the tasting, and if thereís a little mess, who cares? Every year, Dunwell appreciates the simple fun of the festival.
ìWhen do you get to go in a bounce house with your friends, meet faculty and staff and their children?î he asked. ìI love the food, and meeting all my friends here.î
Then women gathered altogether...and in realizing that Motherly Love truly saves Humanity, and humbles all men...then they saw all the wickedness thereis in the world...and with firmness that women united to uphold the Holy Virtues of Humility, Love, Peace and Joy in Humanity...
At Antelope Point on Lake powell I caught two Striped Bass. We ate them for dinner. They are now considered an invasive species as they are displacing native fish, and thereis no catch limit on Lake Powell. Visit rosy-finch.blogspot.com
Short remy wigs have delicately capless design that it can offer you coolness and comfort. Since thereis no “cap” in a capless wig, the open-wefts is well-ventilation making it very cool to wear. Lacking a solid base is also a huge merit because it makes the wig light and airy; some capless wigs are just a few ounces. You will never feel like you’re wearing a baseball cap with a capless wig. Short remy wigs are made from high quality heat resistant material. It means you can use the heating tools or hair dryer to style the wig. Soft natural black wigs have side swept bangs. Use the scissors to trim it to the perfect length you like is allowed. Short remy wigs are black that is natural. Soft capless wigs are average size. They all have elastic straps that you can adjust the strap in accordance with your head size.
“everything is part of something”
the flower is part of the tree
the tree is part of the nature landscape
the nature landscape is part of Earth
the Earth is part of the Universe
so everything thereis in this world
has a purpose for a greater cause
even in our little part we are important
so our care may always reach everyone
even in our littleness we do our best
because this is for all the rest
a world that nurtures us all
so we do our part in our gratefulness
children’s art series: "everything is part of something"
acrylic paint, embossed paint, and sparkle paint (on canvas 9"x12")
65 Bleecker Street, NoHo, Manhattan, New York City, New York, United States
The Bayard-Condict Building is the most significant commercial building utilizing skyscraper structural techniques in New York City.
Built in 1897-99 on busy commercial Bleecker Street, the building provided a new and startling contrast to the classically-inspired skyscrapers which were being constructed by New York City architects at that time. It is the only building in New York designed by the internationally acclaimed architect, Louis H. Sullivan, the first American to work in a non-historic, modern architectural style. He was the first to solve the design problem of the tall building--the most significant new problem confronting architects in the late 19th century. Sullivan was a leader of the "Chicago School" of commercial architecture developed during this time which stimulated the subsequent development of 20th-century modern architecture, not only in the United States, but in Europe. Hugh Morrison, the author of the first study of the architect in 1935, entitled his book Louis Sullivan, Prophet of Modern Architecture.
The Architect
Louis Henri Sullivan (1856-1924), one of this country's greatest architects, was active during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Sullivan, who was born and raised in Boston, received his first architectural training at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, which he entered in September 1872. After a year, he went to Philadelphia and found employment in the offices of Frank Furness, one of that city's most original architects. After being dismissed from Furness's office as a result of the panic of 1873, Sullivan joined his parents in Chicago. Chicago was still recovering from the Great Fire of 1871, and architects' offices were extremely active. Sullivan found work in the office of William LeBaron Jenney, an innovator in skyscraper construction techniques. This experience led him to seek further training at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts in Paris. From his mathematics tutor, M. Clopet, he was inspired to formulate a rule for architecture "so broad as to admit of no exception." Although Sullivan rejected the classical styles taught at the Ecole and felt that the problems given to the students could not inspire creative effort, the theoretical approach which he had learned later proved invaluable to him in organizing the interior spaces of large commercial buildings.
With his partner Dankmar Adler (1844-1900), Sullivan created some of the most architecturally notable buildings of the 1880s and 1890s, among them the Auditorium Building (1887-89), the Schiller Building (1891-92) , the Transportation Building of the World's Columbian Exposition (1893), and the Stock Exchange (1893-94), all in Chicago; the Wainwright Building (1890-91) in St. Louis; and the Guaranty Building (1894-95) in Buffalo, New York. His commercial buildings not only express the vitality of the Chicago School of skyscraper design, but are indicative of Sullivan's quest for a new style of architecture--modern and non-historical in precedent and expressive of the ideals of American democracy. His buildings and theories were widely admired by architects of the 20th century. His work proved inspirational to many, notably to Frank Lloyd Wright who worked for him in Chicago for several years. In later years, he often referred to Sullivan as his "lieber Meister."
Sullivan's highly original, architectural ornament was an outgrowth of progressive theory of the character and role of ornament in the mid-19th century. Architectural ornament was employed by Sullivan to separate the various functional uses of the building and to symbolize the distinctions between load-bearing and non-structural members. Ornament was no longer an overlay, but an integral part of the building, much as it had been in medieval times.
Also influential for later architects was Sullivan's architectural theory expressed in such writings as Kindergarten Chats (1901-02, reprinted 1918, 1934), and The Autobiography of an Idea (1922-23; 1924).
Sullivan's essay, "The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered" (1896), is a notable summary of his theories.
The design of large commercial and office buildings was a new and continuing architectural problem throughout much of the last quarter of the 19th century. Most architects considered height, volume, and uniformity of plan--primary characteristics of such structures—to be artistic liabilities. Consequently, when architects used classical historical principles in designing tall buildings--principles which had been developed for low horizontal buildings--the result was fragmented. Such tall buildings did not have visual or artistic unity. In addition, large buildings continued to be designed in a traditional manner, with an exterior of solid masonry which in no way expressed the interior steel skeleton or frame.
Sullivan, on the other hand, saw the tall office buildings as a new problem in architectural design, a problem which contained and suggested its own solution, and one which could not be solved by established architectural rules, conventions, or habits. According to Sullivan, such a building must respond to a number of practical conditions:
(1)a basement story for boilers, engines, etc.;
(2)a ground floor devoted to stores and banks which require a large area, ample space and light, and freedom of access from the street;
(3)a main entrance at the ground floor;
(4)a second story which is readily accessible by stairways;
(5)above this, many stories of offices piled tier on tier;
(6)an attic which is related to the life and usefulness of the structure to complete the building's circulatory system.
From these conditions Sullivan states that:
(1)the main entrance and the first story must attract the eye
and the remainder of the story must also be treated in a "liberal, expansive, sumptuous way";
(2)the second story should be treated in a similar way but with "milder pretensions";
(3)above, the window units will look all alike because the offices are all alike; and
(4)the attic floor "gives us the power to show by means of its broad expanse of wall, and its dominating weight and character . . . that the series of office tiers has definitely come to an end."
Finally, for the design to be truly artistic, the architect must heed the voice of emotion and ask what is the chief characteristic of the tall office building.
Sullivan answers:"Itis lofty ... it must be every inch a proud and soaring thing, rising in sheer exultation that from bottom to top it is a unit without a single dissenting line ..."
Sullivan asserts, in addition, that "the shape, form, outward expression, design or whatever we may choose, of the tall office building should in the very nature of things follow the functions of the building." This, in turn, gives rise to a "natural" and "organic" three-part division of the building, with the lower stories taking on a special character suited to special needs, the office tiers which have the same unchanging function continuing in the same unchanging form, and the attic being specific and conclusive in form and function.
From this theory evolved the famous dictum:formfollowsfunction.
For Sullivan "function" meant the whole life that would go in a building. Far more than mechanism and utilitarianism, his idea of functionalism meant that a building must be organic, have life and unity; a building must also express intellectual, emotional, and spiritual realities. In addition, an appropriate system of ornament is necessary for architecture to realize its highest possibilities, for ornament carries on the creative impulse of the architectural expression of the building. Sullivan did not mean his skyscraper theory to be a formula but rather a set of guidelines to inspire the creativity of the architect from which the design would naturally arise. His theory provides useful illumination for a discussion of the Bayard-Condict Building.
The Client
The land on which the Bayard Building is now situated was sold by the Bank for Savings to the United Loan and Investment Company in August 1897. The intention of United Loan was to tear down the old bank building and to replace it with a twelve-story commercial building to be called the Bayard Building. The announcement of the property sale in the New York Tribune stated that the new building was to be designed by Louis H. Sullivan, who "planned the transportation building at the Worlds Fair, the Chicago Stock Exchange and the Auditorium in that city." In working with a New York architect as associate, in this case Lyndon P. Smith, Sullivan was carrying on his standard practice of always associating himself with a local architect when doing jobs out of his state.
The Bayards were one of New York City's old and prestigious families with antecedents going back to Dutch Colonial days. Despite the illustrious family name, there were no Bayards financially involved in any part of the building project, and the use of the name for the building remains ambiguous. Available records indicate that the building was wholly undertaken by the United Loan and Investment Company, with its principal office at 30 Broad Street in New York City. All correspondence pertaining to the building was carried on by its president, Robert Avery, and the associate architect Lyndon P. Smith. Incorporated in 1895 as a company for the buying and selling of stocks, bonds, mortgages, and land for a commission or fee, its business permit was extended in 1897 to allow it to expand its interests in the real estate business.
History of Construction and Design
The design and plans for the building were commissioned from Sullivan presumably sometime during the summer of 1897, probably with Lyndon P.
Smith, the associate architect, acting as intermediary. Sullivan had lectured at the Institute of Architects in New York in 1895--having just completed the Guaranty Building in Buffalo--and Smith may have attended the meeting. Sullivan and Smith became close friends while working on the Bayard commission, and Smith later wrote two articles for the Architectural Record of 1904 and 1905 on Sullivan's buildings.
Plans for a commercial building at 65-69 Bleecker Street were submitted to the Manhattan Building Department by Robert Avery on September 17, 1897, just three days after the transfer of the property was recorded, and before the demolition of the old Bank for Savings building had begun. The plan called for a building twelve stories in height with the top two stories handled internally as one story; the upper floor was designed as a gallery surrounding an open room two stories in height and was lighted from above by a skylight. A typical floor plan provided light-filled, loft-type rooms that could be readily partitioned for office space if desired. Setbacks at the rear of the sides of the buildings provided additional light and air to the rooms. Elevators, stairwells and utilities were grouped in core areas to leave as much open floor space as possible.
The exterior walls were to be of brick, twelve inches thick for the entire height of the building, and the front was to be faced with terra cotta. Significantly, it was also proposed to use the "Gray system" of columns for the structural framing of the building, which had been successfully used by the firm of Adler 8 Sullivan for the Guaranty Building in Buffalo. The Gray systpm, which was frequently used for bridge structures, was readily adapted to skyscraper construction. It consisted of fourteen-inch square columns set on cast bases; each column was connected to the one above and below by a special arrangement of plates and angle seat. The result is an entirely independent vertical steel structure, which does not need partitions or walls to keep it in position, capable of supporting all the other materials used in the construction of the building. This system was not only extremely effective structurally, but was economically advantageous, since it would increase the ratio of usable floor space.
Because of the restrictive policies of the New York Building Department, however, the Gray column system had to be abandoned, and the wall thicknesses also had to be changed from the planned uniform twelve-inch thickness to:twentyinchesup to the fifth floor, sixteen inches to the ninth floor, and twelve inches to the roof. The diameter of the present structural columns varies from twenty-four inches on the ground floor to a diameter of thirteen inches on the twelfth and thirteenth floors.
These changes affected the usable floor space, and were a financial setback to United Loan and Investment Company.
Construction began in December 1897, even before all the problems were resolved with the Building Department. Unfortunately, these problems proved to be too much for Avery:TheBankforSavingsrecalledthe mortgage in June 1899, and the property passed into the hands of Emmeline and Silas Condict. The building was finished in December 1899, and the name was changed to Condict rather than Bayard. But in May 1900 the Condicts sold their interest to Charles T. Wills, the builder, who owned it until 1920. In 1901 Trow's City Directory has listings for the Bayard Building at 65-67 Bleecker Street and the Condict Building at 69 Bleecker Street; both were described as offices. The two buildings listed are, in fact, one structure, but the listing may indicate some sort of internal division that may then have existed.
The Bayard-Condict Building, the first work executed by Sullivan after the dissolution of his partnership with Dankmar Adler, splendidly evokes Sullivan's motto of the skyscraper as a "proud and soaring thing." While stylistically similar in some ways to the Guaranty Building in Buffalo, the design of the Bayard Building is closest to an unexecuted project of about 1895 for the Trust and Savings Bank Building in St. Louis; however, unlike those two buildings, the Bayard is not located on a corner site. Consequently, in the Bayard design, Sullivan concentrated his artistic energies on articulating the front facade--the only facade visible from the street. The design transforms the tripartite division of a classical column--base, shaft and capital--into a creative expression of height.
The unbroken vertical continuity of the slender, molded piers defining the five narrow bays rise the full height of the building above the two-story base, and terminate in arches just below the ornate frieze and strongly projecting roof cornice. These piers express the interior structural columns. Each two-window bay is divided by a narrow mullion which ends in double arches enclosed within the arch formed by the piers.
One of the most striking aspects of Sullivan's facade, which is entirely of terra cotta, is the contrast between the smooth simplicity of the structural design and the sculpturesque quality of the decoration which provides a coloristic play of light and shade on the facade. The ornament appears to spring to life on every available horizontal surface:above the entrance, in the spandrels separating floor levels, in the exquisite foliate ornament in the eaves, with panels separated by angels with outstretched wings and, finally, in the treatment of the roof cornice.
Sullivan's fluid handling of ornament is a parallel in some ways to the work of Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), the finest designer in glass in the United States in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Assisting with the design of the ornament for the Bayard Building was George Elmslie (1871-1952), a young architect who worked for Sullivan for a number of years, and later a member of the firm of Purcell 8 Elmslie.
In accordance with Sullivan's precepts, the main entrance still "attracts the eyes" although the ground floor has been altered. The doorway is flanked by projecting ornamented piers supporting a cornice and lunette that is filled with leafy "organic" forms, combined with geometric designs. A cresting of similar leafy and geometric forms crowns the lunette. The transition between the ground floor and the upper stories is marked by ornamental spandrel panels surmounting each bay above the second story. The exuberant ornament has been characterized by a modern architectural historian, Paul Sprague, as having "a continuous and unimpeded undulating movement." Continuity and a sense of overall unification are achieved by means of sensuous tendrils, leaves, and spirals which are reinforced by attendant geometric decorations. Rising above the second floor are the tiers of identical paired window units, indicating the similarity of the offices within. Each floor is separated by richly ornamented spandrel panels, recessed between the vertical piers and mullions, which delineate the window openings. Each ornamental plaque combines leafy and geometric forms in the typical Sullivan manner, but just below the twelfth floor the plaques become increasingly plastic through the incorporation of lions' heads.
Finally, the attic floor clearly shows "that the series of office tiers has definitely come to an end." The horizontal sweep of the cornice powerfully terminates the soaring verticality of the building. The spandrels beneath the cornice are dominated by intriguing figures of "faerie" angels with outspread butterfly wings. Sullivan had used this motif in his widely acclaimed design for the Transportation Building at the World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago of 1893 and in his project for the 1895 St. Louis building. Silas Condict's son asserted many years later that the six angels were his father's idea--as a symbol to remind tenants of the building to treat their fellowmen fairly on the six business days of the week as well as on Sunday. However, Condict did not acquire the building until six months before its completion; a rendering of the building, published in the Brickbuilder in June 1898 already showed the winged figures. Sumptuous ornament composed of swirling organic and geometric forms fills the spandrels. The bodly projecting cornice is ornamented with rich soffit panels and has intricate crestings similar to the one crowning the lunette over the entrance.
The terra-cotta medium which faces the entire facade easily adapted itself to the facile and elaborate ornament at which Sullivan was so adept. This popular, late 19th-century material was expressly manufactured for the building by the Perth Amboy Terra Cotta Company--which, incidentally, held a mortgage on the property. Sullivan used terra-cotta facing and ornament for a number of his buildings. The use of this material first became practical with the development of iron and steel frame construction techniques, pioneered in Chicago during the 1870s and 1880s; Sullivan was one of the first to make extensive use of terra-cotta facing. Such a terra-cotta "curtain wall" was unique at the time of New York.
Critical Reaction
Sullivan's buildings were published in architectural magazines and were widely acclaimed, especially the Transporation Building at the World's Columbian Exposition. Because of his work he was awarded three medals by the Union Centrale des Arts Decoratifs in 1894. In 1900 J.-L. Pascal, one of the foremost patrons of the ateliers of the Ecole in Paris, expressed his admiration for Sullivan in speaking to architect Max Dunning:"Iconsider that Louis Sullivan in his work has exemplified better the real essence of Beaux-Arts teaching than any other American."
The Bayard-Condict Building was illustrated under the name of the "Bayard Building" in June 1898 in the Brickbuilder.. American Architect and Building News published two illustrations of the "Condict" Building in October 1900. In that same year Jean Schopfer, a Frenchman, writing of the architecture of New York City, described the Bayard Building as "the best skyscraper yet erected." Despite widespread praise in the Midwest and from abroad, Sullivan's work did not gain the attention of critics of the Eastern architectural establishment until after the Bayard Building was erected in New York City. This gave them a firsthand opportunity to observe the skyscraper construction techniques that had been pioneered in Chicago and to view an architectural style that was truly modern and non-historical in its design precedents.
Two of the most influential critics of the turn of the century were Russell Sturgis and Montgomery Schuyler, Sturgis, writing in 1898, stated that the Bayard Building "exemplifies the growth of modern American building connected with the steel cage construction .... There is here no pretense that the building is a massive structure of cut-stone, and no pretense that it allows of treatment in the modern classical way with orders and classical proportion. The whole front is a careful thinking-out of the problem, how to base a design upon the necessary construction in slender metal uprights and ties." The building exemplified "the architectural treatment of the future metal building in our cities in the form which it must pass through if it is to reach any serious architectural success."
Like Sturgis, Schuyler commended the Bayard Building for its frank expression of skyscraper form. In 1899 he wrote in the Architectural Record':"Thereis nothing capricious in the general treatment of this structure. It is an attempt, and a very serious attempt, to found the architecture of a tall building upon the facts of the case. The actual structure is left or, rather, is helped, to tell its own story. This is the thing itself. Nobody who sees the building can help seeing that . . . the Bayard Building is the nearest approach yet made, in New York, at least, to solving the problem of the sky-scraper. It furnishes a most promising starting point for designers who may insist upon attacking that problem instead of evading it, and resting in compromise and conventions." Schuyler also praises the ornament:"... the aesthetic, as distinguished from the scientific, attractiveness of the Bayard Building without doubt resides in the decoration which has been lavished upon it, and which is of a quality that no other designer could have commanded."
Conclusion
The Bayard-Condict Building remains unique in the history of New York City architecture. It is the only building designed by Louis Sullivan in New York. It is the only skyscraper of the period that frankly expresses its structural components in the manner of the Chicago School. There is no attempt to make the terra-cotta look like a masonry building, to deny the nature of the material. Thus, it is the first truly modern skyscraper in New York City, where architects continued to design skyscrapers based on historical precedents and the Beaux-Arts tradition until well into the 1920s.
Louis Sullivan was one of this country's greatest, most innovative and influential architects, but his work was forgotten, resulting in the lamentable destruction of many of his buildings. New York City is indeed fortunate in retaining such an outstanding example of his mature work.
FINDINGS AND DESIGNATIONS
On the basis of a careful consideration of the history, the architecture and other features of this building, the Landmarks Preservation Commission finds that the Bayard-Condict Building has a special character, special historical and aesthetic interest and value as part of the development, heritage and cultural characteristics of New York City.
The Commission further finds that, among its important qualities, the Bayard-Condict Building is the only building in New York City designed by Louis H. Sullivan, one of America's greatest and most influential architects, that it is the first truly modern skyscraper in New York, that it frankly expresses its structural components in the manner of the Chicago School, that the vertical design is a poetic expression of Sullivan's theory of the skyscraper as a "proud and soaring thing," that it is distinguished by Sullivan's exuberant ornament of an organic foliate nature which complements the structural innovations of the building, and that the terra-cotta curtain wall was unique at that time in New York
Accordingly, pursuant to the provisions of Chapter 63 of the Charter of the City of New York and Chapter 8-A of the Administrative Cbde of the City of New York, the Landmarks Preservation Commission designates as a Landmark the Bayard-Condict Building, 65-69 Bleecker Street, Borough of Manhattan and designates Tax Map Block 529, Lot 72, Borough of Manhattan, as its Landmark Site.
i got this at the last regular season game it was fun and we won!!(i think 7 to 3) u can only get therei am going to go to the first game at the new arena and get another but for the new arena cant wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i like star wars
i like legos
i am a hockey fan and pens fan
i like the transformers movies
i listen to lil wayne and eminem
i like the mandos in star wars
i make lego customs with paint and sharpie
i like to make lego mocs
i play star wars battle front 2
last i hate school
View from andong, thereis Merbabu , and in the right is Mnt Merapi, in my back theress Twin Mountain, Sindoro and Sumbing.
Lovely view.
I know that in many places all over the globe wildfires are burning places that are dry as a bone because of years and years of drought. Montana is one of those places. In some parts of the world, heavy rains after long drought have encouraged vast amounts of plant growth -- only creating more fuel for the fires to devour when the land does dry up again as it has in Montana. So, I know we are not alone in living with wildfire almost every summer. Though it is hard to breath some days, and the smoke makes our eyes sting, I feel grateful that our home is not threatened. And grateful to be alive. Never take our lives for granted!
Today this truly gigantic cloud formed over the Meriwether Fire in the mountains north of Helena. Thereis NO way I can capture the enormity of this cloud formation in a photograph. It towered over the city of Helena and over our valley. You can see the mountain ridgeline at the bottom left of this photo. This cloud was mostly smoke from the fire.
What's really incredible to me is that just yesterday, we couldn't see more than a few blocks in town and today, the air was much clearer, though just half hour after I shot this photo, the billowy "softness" had dispersed and the cloud was just an ordinary thick haze of hazardous smoke again.
Worth viewing Large on Black background
Nanjing, China.
China is a blend of old and new. In somesense, they enjoy more freedom than other cultures as illustrated by the lack of rules on the road. In another sense they havefew freedoms, e.g freedom of speech.
In this photo you see a varity of vehicles, scooters, bikes, and pedestrians. Thereis no traffic light and there are no lines in the street.
Look! From my window there’s a view
of city streets
where only lives as dry as tortoises
can crawl—the Galapagos of desire.
There is the day of Negroes with red hair
and the day of insane women on the subway;
there is the day of the word Trieste
and the night of the blind man with the electric guitar.
But I have no profession. Like a spy
I read the papers—Situations Wanted.
Surely there is a secret
which, if I knew it, would change everything!
2
I have the poor man’s nerve-tic, irony.
I see through the illusions of the age!
The bell tolls, and the hearse advances,
and the mourners follow, for my entertainment.
I tread the burning pavement,
the streets where drunkards stretch
like photographs of civil death
and trumpets strangle in electric shelves.
The mannequins stare at me scornfully.
I know they are pretending
all day to be in earnest.
And can it be that love is an illusion?
When darkness falls on the enormous street
the air is filled with Eros, whispering.
Eyes, mouths, contrive to meet
in silence, fearing they may be prevented.
3
O businessmen like ruins,
bankers who are Bastilles,
widows, sadder than the shores of lakes,
then you were happy, when you still could tremble!
But all night long my window
sheds tears of light.
I seek the word. The word is not forthcoming.
O syllables of light ... O dark cathedral ...
Producción: Vogue
Ph: Valentina Garcia, Martina Fabre, Nicole Vargas, Laura Gomez.
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AISA mobilised lOOs of students in an intensive campaign in The JNUSU President and DSF members made only a token, belated guest appearance.
Protest Against the short period of one day, quashing Modi's plans of using .
at the historic protest by student organisations at SRCC College against Modi's visit in SRCC to project himself as the 'students' choice for PM.'.
Modi's SRCC Visit Feb 2013. .
AISA has consistently mobilised students in resistance to SFI and DSF both claim to be against AFSPA now. But the Govt run by SFI's parent party 's recent victory in the AFSPA and other draconian laws. The JNUSU PresidentCPIM still implements AFSPA in Tripura. And DSF hailed the CPI(M)from AISA visited Manipur in solidarity with the historic.
AFSPA Tripura without a SINGLE WORD about the imposition of the draconian AFSPA by the struggle against AFSPA m 2004. AISA has taken up .
government thereI initiatives all over the country to build solida rity with lrom Sharmila's struggles against AFSPA. .
In the Patna Univ elections last year, the JNUSU.President from DSF campaigned for the The AISA has been at the forefront of the struggle of Ranveer Sena, students of dalit hostels for justice against the attack by.
AISF candidate for Vice-President, even as he used casteist anti-dalit tactics in the .
Ranveer Sena goons following Brahmeshwar Singh's killing.Dalit Massacres elections. This AISF candidate (who won the election) exposed his true colours when he hailed the notorious Ranveer Sena chief Brahmeshwar Singh as a martyr, even as AISA contested the Patna Univ elections on a principled 's killing. Following plank of struggling for the rights of dalits and women.
'Ranveers' were attacking dalit hostels in Ara following Brahmeshwaragainst vested feudal interests..
massive public outcry about such stand, AISF had no option but to expel him-but DSF .
is yet to regret that the JNUSU President campaigned for such a casteist masquerading .
as a Left candidate. .
AISA's JNUSU office bearers supporting the struggle for The JNUSU President from DSF, and the DSF remained totally aloof from the ongoing.
Minority Witch-justice at Batla House, and visiting Lucknow in solidarity.
struggle in Lucknow against the custodial killing of Khalid Mujahid as well as against the .
with struggle against custodial killing of Khalid Mujahid..
hunt fake encounter at Batla House. .
.
The AISA and its activists from DU and JNU played a historic The JNUSU President from DSF, and DSF itself, remained aloof from the struggle of DU.
FYUP in DU role in mobilising students' resistance to FYUP. AISA held a .
students against the worst offensive on higher education in recent times-the FYUP. .
This, despite the fact that FYUP affects not only DU students and teachers but also JNU historic referendum in DU where over 10000 students .
.
voted to reject FYUP. AISA is determined that JNUSU must.
Fee Hike and early career research scholars by drastically eroding permanent teaching posts in DU. .
support the struggle against FYUP ..
The JNUSU President from DSF, and the DSF remained totally aloof from the strugglesCrackdown in AISA and its JNUSU office bearers also extended support .
of Jamia Millia lslamia students for their rights.
Jamia Millia for the struggles ofJamia Millia lslamia students against fee hikes and crackdown on their democratic rights..
lslamia Again and again, the hesitation, opportunism and silence of the outgoing JNUSU President from DSF, on a range of pressing democratic questions, were a blot on .
the legacy of the JNUSU as an institution. To have JNUSU representatives who won't defend a JNU student who is a victim of Operation Green Hunt; who break Left .
unity and JNUSU's unity to back ABVP in its communal witch-hunt of a fellow JNUSU office bearer; who won't defend the civil liberties and right to dissent of those of a differing ideology; who can hail the Tripura CM from CPIM who implements AFSPA; who campaign for a pro-Ranveer Seha candidates in Bihar without any regret; who can't support the struggles for Telangana and Gorkhaland; and who fail to offer principled and timely resistance to minority witch-hunt and offensives .
j .
on education like FYUP critically impair the fighting potential of JNUSU. That's why we appeal to you to give AISA a FULL MANDATE in the JNUSU polls, to ensure a JNUSU that can respond robustly to every assault on democratic rights of students and citizens. .
Sucheta De, Piyush Raj, Central Campaign CQmmittee, AISA, JNU .
.
On the way to Stettler along Highway 21 there is a nice old barn right after you pass Trochu. Thereis a new windfarm built in that corridor, and thus old meets new. The weather was interesting, and the barn was nicely framed.
==Arkham North: Courtyard==
Zoom's incapacitation was short-lived; spurred on by The Flash's sudden intervention, he had re-entered the fray with a renewed focus and drive. Furious, quick blows were thrown and parried just as quickly, as the Scarlet Speedster fought him back. And as they battled, as the ground quaked and cracked beneath their boots, Chuck realised something he hadn't understood previously:
Zoom had been holding back.
Yet, with their defeat no longer a certainty, the Rogues re-joined the battle with a tenacity on par with Zoom himself; blasts of fire, hail from above, razor-edged ribbons, all came crashing down against the man in yellow. But Zoom endured. A singed shoulder and a few minor cuts would not uproot his lesson. But perhaps The Flash could.
The Flash.
There was an effortlessness, a fluidity, in the way that he moved; unlike Zoom, who glitched and jerked and crackled as he popped in and out of the timestream, unnaturally, like a spectre. Even so, Zoom's lack of grace was off-set by a tactician's mind; aiming for his rival's legs and ankles in his attempts to disable him.
The Flash weaved in and out, matching Zoom's speed, his fists pulsating with the same golden lightning that had heralded his arrival moments before. And at last, he wound his arm back and delivered an earth-shattering uppercut that finally sent Zoom flying back onto the ground. The immediate threat passed, The Flash turned his attention to the eclectic collection of would-be heroes; a mismatched group with all the cohesion of a DnD party.
Chuck gasped, as lightning flashed across his brown irises. “Woah.”
The Flash; The Flash was standing in front of him; hands on his hips, a coy smile on his face, lightning pulsing through his bright red costume like golden blood through veins. Chuck had never really seen him up close before; although, once, he’d nearly been splattered into paste because a blur of red had overtaken him at the deli (Chuck didn’t hold that against him; Gotham bagels were miles ahead of Keystone's; Drury had confirmed as much to him once he had returned from his exile), but this was different.
“How- how did you know to come?” Chuck asked, tripping over his words.
“Our friend with the ears filled me in,” Flash smiled, sticking his forefingers up at either side of his skull, mimicking The Batman’s profile. Before he could elaborate, a metallic clunking caught his attention;
Zoom, was standing in the entrance of the Intensive Treatment building, his exit secured by the slamming of the twin doors. Flash's brow furrowed beneath his crimson cowl, as he attempted to discern Zoom's intent. A strategic retreat? No, of course, it wouldn't be that easy. Had to be a trap...
“Stay here,” Flash advised, as he took off; vibrating his body until it became intangible so that he could follow Zolomon inside.
"Freaky, huh?" Lisa smiled at Chuck.
"Unreal," he replied, an awed smile on his face.
The calm was cut short, as a quiet rustling from the shrubberies beside Arkham's East Gate grabbed Chuck's attention. He nodded to the others, and exhaled sharply, one thought on his mind; 'What now? King of Cats? Psycho Pirate? Charaxes?' Rory twisted the dial on his heat gun, Mardon lifted himself off the ground, aided by a small tornado, Norbert raised his fists, preparing for the coming battle.
Mercifully, that battle never came.
“Hold your fire! Don’t shoot!” a young voice shouted, as Simon Van Cleer and his siblings emerged from the bushes. Axel’s remaining arm was wrapped across his shoulders like a stuffed fox around an aging socialite’s.
The Rogues lowered their weapons
and Chuck's features softened. Drury's twins were the age his Charlie should have been.
“Younglings!” Lord Manga cheered, pointing an enthusiastic golden finger at the trio of youths.
“Youths, m’lord,” L-Ron corrected him. "Juveniles."
“Undeveloped minds, L-Ron! Susceptible minds! Susceptible to MARKETING!” The 'susceptible minds' elected to ignore C-3PO and R2-D2, instead making a beeline for their doting uncle.
“You’re soaking wet,” Norbert fussed over them. “Do we have any dry clothes?”
On cue, Lord Manga re-appeared at Norbert’s side, clutching a cardboard box filled to the brim with t-shirts branded with outdated slogans.
"Where's your arm, son?" Chuck paused, redirecting the conversation to something of greater importance, whilst Kitten fought Simon for the least embarrassing option within the mound of bootleg t-shirts.
Axel, shrugged. "Blew up."
"Where's the sub?" Rory grunted.
"Blew up."
Chuck lingered at the siblings' side, hoping in vain that Simon might provide a more in-depth explanation about their predicament than his brother. Lisa, however, brought him aside;
“You’re needed inside,” she spoke. “We'll look after them.”
“But Zoom is still-"
“Hey. Take it from someone whose spent a lot of her best years in Iron Heights because of him; Flash has this. You’d only slow him down.”
Out of rebuttals, Chuck nodded obediently. “I’ll need some height,” he smiled cheekily.
“On it," Lisa smirked. "I’ll try not to rip your arms out.”
Gold ribbons wrapped around Chuck’s torso and hoisted him above the ground, hurling him into the air. A gust from Mardon’s wand guided Chuck onto the roof of the Intensive Treatment block; He burst through the wooden door, and the atmosphere changed immediately. Carpet. He'd landed on carpet. He looked at the walls; plaster not concrete, and the photos; he knew those photos. And just as he began to piece things together, a voice called to him;
“Daddy?”
It was a child’s voice. His child’s voice.
"What the hell-?"
===Arkham East: Botanical Gardens==
“Montgomery, here, take the sword,” Drake was instructing Sharpe, handing the Soul-Taker to him, as he ripped a piece off of his emerald cape to form a bandage to place over Blake’s exposed eye socket.
“Oh, that’s actually quite a lot of blood,” Sharpe grimaced, as he held the blade close to his chest.
Drake rolled his eyes “We are all bags of blood and bile living on finite time, and yes, occasionally we leak. In our line of work, that is a particular gamble we must live with. I implore you to deal with it,” he shot daggers at his younger associate. “Thomas, how do you feel?”
Blake coughed. “Like Nick Furry.”
Drake smacked his forehead. “I am surrounded by children.”
“It might be the blood loss,” Sharpe shrugged, offering a weak defence of Blake’s character.
Drake eyed him coldly. “I think we both know it’s just Thomas.”
Sharpe exhaled, taking Drake aside so that he could voice his concerns. “This is bad man, this is Tom; do you know how important depth perception is to him?” he asked, idly scratching the edge of his nose.
“I KNOW PRECISELY HOW IMPORTANT DEPTH PERCEPTION IS TO HIM!” Drake snapped.
“YEAH?” Sharpe responded at the same volume.
“YES!”
Sharpe paused. “HE LIKES LOOKING AT BOO-”
“I said I understand, you juvenile twit!”
Sharpe, recoiled. “Jeez, bro. I didn’t think anyone felt as strongly about this as, well, Blake.”
“Don’t call me bro. In fact, don’t call me anything. You are a brother to no man. You are loyal only to yourself. I can trace every tragedy that has befallen us to the day Drury took you under his wings. Lynns lost to an inferno, Day to his madness. When you got yourself shot and Drury turned to that inhuman beast, Lightning Bug. You are a weaselly, shrewd enabler undeserving of kinship or friendship.”
“You maybe consider that all started the day you left?” Blake interjected. “Enhanced senses, remember?”
Drake scoffed. “That’s the blood loss talking, Thomas.”
Sharpe folded his arms. “No, man. I think that’s just Blake.”
~-~
Wally sped through the Asylum, slowing down as he approached a room of freakish funhouse mirrors, another one of Joker’s ‘renovations.’ As he passed each mirror, he threw a cursory glance at the distorted images; one Flash bloated beyond all functionality, surely unable to walk, let alone run; one Flash with an engorged skull, giving Hector Hammond a run for his money. And in the corner of one mirror, Wally caught a fleeting flicker of yellow.
“Hunter, are you there?” he called out.
“Alwaaaaaaaays, Waaaaaaaally.”
Unprepared, Wally was thrown backwards, the glass shattering as he fell against the closest mirror. ‘Rookie mistake,’ Wally cursed himself as he got back on his feet.
“Iam soooooo glad youcame,” Zoom’s voice crackled. “For the finaaaaaal lesson. How is Liiiiiiiiiiinda?”
“She’s safe. She’s where you can’t get her,” Wally responded coldly, his hand forming a balled fist. His eyes darted back and forth as he scanned the mirrors at superspeed, tracking Zoom’s movements.
“Do you reaaaaaaaally believe thaaaaaat Waaaaaally?” Zoom cooed. “Doyou reaaaaaaaaaally believe thereis aaaanywheeeere youcanhide Liiiiiiiiiinda I cannot fiiiiiind?” he inquired as he again came into view, this time directly in front of his former friend.
Wally’s fist flew forward and punched through the mirror, shards of glass tearing his hand apart. ‘Thank god for speed healing,’ he thought. And he thanked Him again when Zoom struck from the shadows, knocking him through the cracked frame.
“You cheated,” Zoom continued, his distorted voice shifting slightly to one of annoyance as he circled his wayward student. “You undid the traaaaaaaaageeeeeeedy. Undid my woooooooork. SonowIwill need to fiiiiiiind a neeeeeeeew traaaaaaaaageeeeeeedy. For you and Liiiiiiiiinda.”
But Wally wasn’t listening; he was looking at the mirror behind Zoom, rippling like a lake disturbed by a skimmed stone; An orange and green blur shot through the mirror, dusted itself down, then immediately hurled over the floor.
“McCulloch?” Wally frowned; he’d admit the vomiting Scotsman was not his first choice of saviour.
“Fookin’ hell, ahm always a wee bit topsy-turvy jumping through one a’ those freaky funhoose mirrors… Oi, Seizure Salad! Ah’m gonnae smash the fook outta you,” he pointed at Zoom with a shaking hand.
Zoom smiled, then his fist drove forwards and embedded itself in McCulloch’s chest, twisting through his internal organs. McCulloch spluttered, smirked, then his body exploded into shards of crystal. “A duuuuuuuplicaaaaaate,” Zoom hissed.
“Och, weel ya didnae think ah was gonnae play fair, did ya?” a second McCulloch chortled from the other side of the room. “C’mon, ya wee fanny.”
“With pleeeeeaaaaaaasure,” Zoom sneered and, while distracted, Wally snuck in with a jab to his head.
“Och, ya beauty!” McCulloch cheered with the enthusiasm of a life-long Celtic fan.
Wally’s arms wrapped around Zoom’s shoulders, trapping him, giving McCulloch precious seconds to act; he fired his mirror gun in quick succession at the mirrors either side of Zoom; Thawne’s pupil broke free of his grip and threw Wally over his shoulders; McCulloch leapt through one mirror, striking Zoom’s jaw, did a combat roll through the other and reemerged on the other side to deliver a punch to the cheek. But this time, Zoom caught him before he could escape.
“Tiresome foooool,” Zoom snarled. “Whaaaaaat didyou hope to accoooooomplish?”
“Me? Ah was hopin’ that ya wouldnae notice me shoot those mirrors.”
Zoom’s head jerked backwards; red eyes darting back and forth beneath his visor as yellow claws emerged from the rippling mirrors; in total, there were six of them; each misshapen in some way, all monstrosities; Zoom’s distorted funhouse reflections, given life by McCulloch’s mirror gun.
“̸̛̻̗̈Y̶͍̆e̵̟͙͖̙͛l̷̡̮͍̺̻̓̾͒͐͝ĥ̸̡̦̥̻̆ͅs̸͙̝͂͗̅͘a̸̹̻͚͌̍̈́ ̸͉̪͛̿̔̚t̴̨̹̮͆̓̏͂u̷̻͍̬͙͌͌͒̄̀ơ̸͉̥̠̍͒b̵̦̟̃̕͜͝a̴̡̻̋ ̴̜̐̔̍̚ẗ̸̳̓̅̄͜ả̸̛̗̦̀͠h̶͚͖̄̉̎̇W̴̥͇̩̟̼͛?̴̞̞̻̻̂ ̴͎͔̩̻̓́Ẏ̴̦̩̍͛͌͝e̴̝͈͋̉̆ͅļ̴̞͚̭̤̊͆͋̃̈́h̶̙̏̍s̸̱͕̏̒a̵̠̙̩͍̾͝…̷͉̗̀͝”̶̢̱͖̳̠͋̄
̶͙̟̩͇͙̟̩͇̝̌̽͝͝
̶̨͚͈͍͔͌̑̀̃͝“̶̨͇̤͈͍̃̅́N̵̛̻̈́̿i̸̥̍̀̎̍̈́ś̵̠̳̔̓̕͜ṣ̶̨̛͓̐i̷̙̺̩̞̇̃͛ơ̶͖͚͇̫̈́̈́͗m̵̧̳̮̦̱̈͂̌̚ ̵̡̼̤͉̥̌̆̇̀r̸̨̗̣̠̄͆̀͠ù̵͔̰̩́ó̴͚͇͎̫̪̂̈̄ÿ̸̘̝̒̊̚ ̷̨̛͚̫̟h̶̥͗͗̔̇͘ẗ̷̢̖̞̲́͒ͅį̵̣̠̩̒͛͛͝w̷̯̋̒ͅ ̷̥̳̓͒̚͝ẏ̶̘͚̫̥́̈́̏ṙ̶͙̅ö̴̤͒̉m̸̡̼͍̭͆̀̀̆e̷̝̎̈͝m̷͚̦̃̐ ̵̗͒̑̈́s̵̝̆̊̅̋’̶̡̛̛͒͘r̵̛̺̀̄̂̀ͅé̴̼͝ḫ̵̛̗̙̤̮̽̀ṯ̶͕̀͘ă̷̧̫̈̕f̶͕̺̫͚̩̊̅̏͘͠ ̵̬̖͉̜͖͋r̴͉͚̻̥̽̇e̶̹̬̭̽h̶̫͉̣̗̰̀̈ ̴̢̺̃̃̒e̵̡͉̬̭̓c̷͚͔̻̓̓̀a̵̲͚̼̝̾͂r̶̪̺̹͓͊g̶̥̮͛̀̄s̴̛͕͒̕i̸̛̯̲̋͝d̸̝̋͂̎ ̴̹̳̞̌̅͆̂o̵̻̮̾̓̇̈̕ů̴̞̯̜̯̣̽̅͂̕ȳ̸̝̥̫̘͂͜.̵̳̹̠̕”̷̯͇̋͌͂̈́ ̶͔̔́
̵́̀̓̐͘ͅ
̷̢͈͉̈́“̷͚̐Y̵̲̙̓̈̕d̸̢͓͚̭̏ḁ̵͔͈̻̹͑̆e̸̝͛͛͛r̷̛̫̗̍̿̚l̷̻͚̅̀͠͝â̶̧̞͌̃ͅ ̸̪̾̀̚͝é̷̘͍͇̚c̷̯̫̈͗̓̽͋n̷̢̲̈o̷̝͙͒̿͒̇͂ ̸̗̦̎̒̂̆̚ḛ̶̱̤͉͝f̴͍͎͈̥̒́̃͘i̸͉͋͐̀̚l̴͈̅ ̶͕̥̼̦̻́r̷͖̻͓̺̪͆u̵̟̾̎̂͋o̵͔̓̀͗̚ȳ̸̛̤̤̮ ̸̝͇̳̖̠͋̽̈͘͝d̶̢͕̳̥͍̅̃̅̈́è̷̯̱̘͓͝n̷̡̲̓̍̅̄ḯ̴̻̤̝͜û̶̬͈͚̓̑͊ṟ̴͈̄ ̵̞̦̤̂͠n̵̻̜̓̀͛̀ͅͅu̵̎́̍ͅg̶̛͐̃̚͜ ̴͖͇̔̌̏ȧ̵̯͕̟̤̞̽͑ ̵͔̱̽̓͘h̸̩̪̜̋͆t̸͚̲͉͊͌̔͝ĩ̷̺͐͛w̷̥͚̖͚̲̽͋͠ ̵̡̟͙͍͆͒̓͝͠ḁ̷̣̬̑͌̉͆͘ ̴̠̪̱̾̒͜n̸̦̣̘̱̝͋w̷̧̟̓̇͝ó̷̳͎̹͔̈́͘͝ĺ̸̡̲̥̭͎͌͊̎̀c̵̝͇̣̰̳̈́̍̏̿.̵̰̞̭̋̍”̴̢̡̪̼̈́̓͐͠ͅ
̸͔̥̩̹̬͋̈́
̶̨̡̮͓̹̔̔̾͒͝“̵̼̬̤̿̿͛͠S̶̟̗̦̩̗̾̚̕͝ị̴̥͉̼̈́̂̽̽͝h̴͕̍̋͑̈́t̴̢̮͎̾̓͝ ̵͎̦̯͂̀̆͘̕ḏ̵̠̪̅ị̸̞̜̔̔̈́͜͝d̵̹̺̳͊ ̷̠̝̾ǫ̵͔̣͈̤͋̎͒͘͝u̶̗͍͉͐̚͜Y̷͔̗̖̆̈̍̕͝.̸̧͓̈́ ̷̝̹͙̜͛͆̕͠N̵̛̫̖̲̓u̴̙̦͋̆ǧ̸̢̛̛̛̼̜̝͈̐ ̶̡̼́̏̏̊ą̷̧͕̈̔̔̚͠ͅ ̸̜͔̱͑͒ͅe̶̱̼͑̽̈́v̷̡̛̝̣͕͆à̷̢̧͔̥̄͆͋̾h̵̥̜̹̏͆͆͘ ̷͉̜̤̊t̴̢̤̘͉͎͆̐̌̑͑’̵͍͎͙̬̋̓̈̚n̷̦̣̥͓̍̋͜d̶͚͊̄̍ĺ̴͉̜̬͋ų̸̗̜̜̼̈́ö̷̧͕̪̞́w̵̓̀ͅ ̵̢̧̦͙̥̒̏͝ȩ̸̏̇͗̅̋ḧ̷̻̦̭̝̮̐̄ ̵̺͇̘͔̾̍̊̒d̴̨̀̀̈́͘i̸̻̩͚͉̮͗͒̉́͠a̷̺̲̱͈͝s̷̨̺̤̙̄́̐͠ ̷̝͑̏̏͒ô̵͍̭͉͛ǘ̴͉̠̪̱Ẏ̴̩.̶̤̮̀̈́͂”̴̳̳̺̲͎͐̇͗͘
̷̫̭̙̜̰̈́͊͒̄
̶̞͎̓̔̈̍“̸̺͋̽͗͌͌L̶̺͇̼͖͉͑e̶͎̲͑e̴̡͎͍͙̦̎́̀͒̋f̴̢̢̛̝̭̖ ̷̨̂o̴̞̔̍̋͠ǘ̸̗̽͠ŷ̵͔̩ ̶̘͉̓̍̀̉ͅt̵̯̞̳͓̅̊r̷̹͕̙̲̀̅͗͝u̸̧̧̙̞̔̆̑̈̈́ḧ̴͙̘̣̣́͐͛͐͘ ̶̟͆̃̍e̷̝̫͓̻̟̿̈́h̶̼̘͙̾̏̚t̴̢͇̦̜̯̓̓̃̈̓ ̷̣̿e̶̻̺̽̎ć̷̬̃͛̚ą̸̢͈̖̍́́̒l̴̪̰̣̔̅̾̆p̷̧̛͈̌̿̚e̶̛̘͎ṟ̴̈́̉ ̸̧̤͉̹͗̾͝͝ṋ̷̢̬̤̖̈́̈̏͘a̴̰͉̅̑̂͠ć̶͍̞͚̤̱ ̷̞͙͗t̵̺͒͐̔̇ȁ̶̡̻̲h̷̛̟̔̇̕ț̶̹͔̌͠ ̶̱͎̽́̽͌̀ḱ̷̢͙̭̃͋n̷̬̻͚͊i̶̢̧̢̫̹̽͘h̷̩̻̦̲͆̄̀̏̽t̶̯̥̗͚͙͐͋͛̍̓ ̸̬̬̱͊̐͝ō̴̞͔̗͜u̸͉̝̞̟̾͌̏͠y̸͈͝ ̵̨͇͉͈̬͌ê̸̜̞̞̼͓s̷͕̝͎̀͂̉͑̈́u̵̫̒́̑ā̸̤̯͖̖̏ͅc̷͉̈́̂e̷̮͈̘̬͊̃̀͂̒b̷̼̀̈́̇͛ ̴̲̻̗͝H̵̞̓̌ş̴̣̺̗͋̂͜ą̴̜̯͚̝̈́͑̕̚͝ľ̴̙̔ͅf̸̡̞̩̞̖͌͗ ̷̦͈̝͍͖͐̑̇E̶͚̦̪͓͝ͅh̷̟͑̎ͅt̶̢̨̰͑ ̸̫̮̎g̸̜̩̫̽̍͠n̴̩̠̋i̶̤͌̅̋t̵͖͓̭̼̉̇ͅŗ̶͓͇̘̄u̸͈̮̯̝̘͛̌̿ḥ̷̟̯̟̯̽͗̕.̴̥̣̓̋̀̅͜ ̷̨̧̹̠̈̆C̴̢̮̣͔̄͋͒̐͜͝i̷̜̬̖͋̈́̚t̵̖͈̅ẹ̷͋̀̅̀̕h̶͍̭̺̏͂͜t̷̘̅͐a̴͇̬͌́́ͅṕ̶̜̅͂͝”̶̛̟̫̣͓̦͆̈́͌
̷̢̤̼̗̫͋̿̂͐
̵̝̫̽͂̐͜“̸̩̒̅̊̚T̴̛̘̗́̓͝’̴̢̢̟̹͗̎͌̄́ń̶̛̺͈̝̺̍͠a̸̱̖͛̒̓̈́̌c̶͉̳̰͉̜̑͌̓͝ ̴̛̻̩̤̞̀͛̕t̸̙̖̂̎̉͆͝i̵͔̎̉͌ͅ.̶̠̈́̃́͌”̷̧͔̞̣̬̉̐͑͐̐ ψ
Zoom attempted to fight them off, but their speed matched his own; they crowded him, wrapping their clawed fingers across his arms; at first it looked like they may tear him apart. That might have been mercy compared to what followed: the mirror creatures dragged him along the floor, towards the swirling vortexes from which they had been birthed. Towards eternity. Zoom struggled, Zoom fought, but he wasn’t fighting creatures that could bleed or die; in the end he was fighting himself. And Hunter Zolomon had lost that battle long ago. When Zoom next spoke, it was with Hunter’s voice. “Wally, help."
"I just wanted to help.”
His face disappeared behind the rippling glass, and the mirror was still once more.
Wally stepped forward, but McCulloch held him back. “Flash, mate. It’s over, alright? It’s done. Let the mad bastard go.”
Wally bowed his head, Hunter no more than a yellow silhouette trapped behind glass, growing fainter by the second. “McCulloch, can he...? Is he...?”
“Nah,” McCulloch answered. “But he cannae hurt anyone no more. I’d say that’s ah point for tha good guys,” he spoke, slapping Wally’s back in a rare display of solidarity.
~-~
Despite his earlier outburst, Sharpe seemed to hold no ill will towards Drake; perhaps because he was used to being the one in the wrong and he was enjoying the change of pace. Together, they lifted up Blake, guiding him over dried up vines and plants. They had almost reached the exit until they were harshly reminded of the present threat; Sharpe’s calve was torn open by the King’s claws, and the trio tumbled to the ground as one dysfunctional unit. The sword, clattered to the ground once more.
“Leaving so soon?” The King asked mockingly, lapping the blood off its silver claws.
Drake and Sharpe took fighting stances, fists raised, as they guarded Blake’s slumped over form. The King, giggled. And the fight began anew; Drake’s rapier slashed the King, a fireball singed his catsuit; courtesy of Sharpe’s dragon staff; this was the fight of their lives, and they knew it. But even so, they couldn’t keep the beast at bay forever. They fell down for a final time, and The King continued its approach towards Blake.
“He's going for the katana!” Drake realised.
“C-catana,” Blake chuckled (Now in a state of blood loss induced delirium). He tried to move, but The King’s boot pinned his wrist.
“As I understand it, gingers don’t have souls…” The King teased, picking the Soul-Taker off of the floor and holding it level. “Shall we test that?”
But before The King could test its hypothesis, something peculiar happened; The King’s face twitched in pain; its hand flung backwards, and a feline-like yowl burst from its’ lungs with the pain of someone burned by a hot iron. The clear source of the King’s ire, the Soul-Taker, landed into a nearby crowd of shrubbery. “Sorcery!” The King yowled, removing its leather glove to reveal the putrid pus-filled blisters that had erupted across its palm.
“It matters not; There are worse ways to wound,” the King declared, crouching over Blake and placing its hands across his throat. But as The King choked Blake, Blake dug his claws into its cheeks and dragged them across the surface of its face. The King recoiled; scars were dug into the side of its cheeks like whiskers. Drake rushed to Blake’s aid, leaving himself vulnerable.
The King re-entered the fray, mounting Drake’s back; fanged teeth bit into his throat; deep, lethal bites. Drake fumbled, grabbing the knife tucked down the side of his boot, then stab: The King fell, and Drake fell with him.
The King gurgled, its eyes red, its mouth stained with Drake’s blood. Drake’s knife handle was pointing out the side of its skull, the tip barely poking out the other side. “Wots… wots noo poosi caaaat,” The Fallen King slurred. “Poos. Poos. Poosi. Heehn.”
“The sword! Kill him! Kill him now!” Sharpe panicked. “The- Where’s the sword-?”
He turned his head around just in time to see a black whip wrap around the sword’s hilt and tug it far from the King’s reach. The King sniffed the air and smiled its final smile. “Siiiiiister-?”
Blake stirred. “Ni- Nightwing...”
The King turned back, and the sword pierced its stomach. Its eyes, once green, now red from the knife lodged in its brain, dilated. Selina Kyle stared back coldly, no expression on her face beyond residual pity for the brother she had lost long ago.
“Does... does The Batman know you carry his seed?” The King dribbled blood onto the floor.
The sword twisted. A mercy killing, if anything, though mercy wasn’t on Selina’s mind. Green smoke emanated from its mouth, forming a monstrous, bestial cloud above them, its silhouette resembling an enormous bi-pedal panther. As it was drawn into the sword, the swirling tornado let out an animalistic cry; then, quiet. The King’s reign had ended; The creature had spoken its last words; vulgar though they were. But Karl Kyle hadn’t. A blue spectre lingered over the body; the brother Selina had known before the Cat King had claimed his body and soul. Untethered and unburdened.
“Selina… thank you,” it spoke, finally at peace.
“Karl-?” Selina gasped.
The spectre smiled in mute confirmation, then faded into nothingness.
“That thing was inside me…” a repulsed Blake remarked. Even so, a slight smile played across his lips, comforted by the knowledge that the nightmare was over, that finally, The King of Cats was dead: Long live The King. But their victory rang hollow. Sharpe was cradling Drake; his white suit was stained with his blood; he wasn’t even complaining; Blake could tell something was wrong based off of that alone. He limped forwards, Selina’s hand brushed across his shoulder, but he kept going, crouching by their side. “Drake, Morty, c’mon, man. You can’t go, not like this, not from some hickey. What about... what about your peasants?”
“Pheasants, Thomas,” Drake smiled weakly. “No; Sod that life of luxury malarkey… the only life worth living is one… is one with frien-"
He never finished.
Blake and Sharpe looked at one another; making a non-verbal agreement for how to proceed. Sharpe unfastened The Cavalier’s velvet cape, then carefully lowered him onto the ground. He handed Blake the cape, who draped it over Drake’s body, like a flag over a fallen soldier. Not to grieve the death of their friend, but to honour the life of a Misfit.
===Arkham Penitentiary===
They had been walking for what seemed like hours, down cobweb infested hallways and past empty cells. Yet, it wasn’t until they had reached Maximum Security that Eric Needham finally noticed they were one member short.
“Where’s Pike?” he asked the remainder of his group. Flannegan and Karlo, exchanged confused glances. Karlo's yellow eyes darkened, shadowed by his drooping brow; Flannegan shrugged with the energy of someone who considered shrugging too much effort.
Needham let out a low sigh and placed his hand over the bridge of his nose, making sure his displeasure was apparent to both man and mud. “Stay here, I’ll find her,” he grunted, certain neither of them would volunteer in his stead. He turned 180 degrees and activated his wrist shooters; using his webs to pull him forwards, carrying him back the way they came with an enhanced speed. He reached a doorway, and dropped down. As he approached the handle, he noticed a fine white powder sprinkled on the ground like salt.
It wasn’t salt.
“Pike? Kid?”
Keeping a hand on his sheathed knife, he walked through the doorway and was quickly swept away to a small apartment; a woman was standing over the stove, her back facing him.
“Linda?” Needham asked, raising his mask over his face.
The woman turned around, and smiled. It was Linda, yes. But Linda from a time before the drugs hollowed her cheeks and thinned her hair. The Linda Eric had fallen for.
“The hell is this?”
~-~
Ten raised his hand, moving it from side to side, the corners of his mouth drooping downwards. “The signal stops here,” he announced to the rest of the group.
Gar looked up, taking in his surroundings; They were in The Nexus. A network of doors splitting off into different corners of the facility. “We’ll split up,” he decided. “I’ll take the North door; Joey east, Ten west. Gaige-”
“South, yeah. I know how directions work,” Gaige growled, twisting the end of his harpoon. “I’ll see you and the rest of Apocalypse Now in five. Once I find Walker.” And without waiting for Gar’s approval, he stepped through his assigned door.
Joey leaned forwards, whispering to Gar. “I told you he cares.”
“Uhuh,” Gar nodded dispassionately, rejecting the notion that Gaige held any sentimentality for Drury within his stony heart.
~-~
Joey entered through the door, and stepped on a bright green welcome mat. Dismissing it as the clown's idea of a joke, Joey continued onwards, but the further he walked, the more he began to recognise his surroundings. He arrived at a small table in the hall and picked up a framed photograph of a young man in military uniform. Himself. “What-?”
“Jo-Jo!”
Joey turned around just in time to witness a small toddler tactically crawl towards him. She let out a delighted squeal, then dropped at his feet, hugging his shin like a koala against a tree trunk.
“Maggie?” Joey asked. “Baby sister?”
“Ah, there you are, kiddo,” Joey’s father called out to him beckoning him from the dining room doorway. “We’ve been waiting for you!”
Joey answered with a dry throat, with tears welling up in his eyes. “You have?”
~-~
Gar walked through the door and entered a building cloaked in shadows. Suspicious, he raised his flamethrower and he veered around the corner into what appeared to be a dining room; the lights were dimmed, the curtains closed, and there was but a single candle on the table, illuminating the room. Orange sparks danced across Gar’s pupils. He reached forward, old habits, then he saw his hands. First of all, he was no longer wearing his costume, but more than that, his hands were unmarked. Unscathed. No longer cracked and chipped like years-old paint. And if his hands weren’t burnt… He ran to the mirror and gasped: a man with pale skin, the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow and a full head of black, slightly greying, hair was staring back.
“What the fuck?”
~-~
As Ten progressed further into Arkham's bowels, he continued to raise his hands in front of him, guiding his path through a building he was grateful he had never been ‘treated’ in. It wasn't until ten minutes of walking, that he finally noticed his hands.
His hands. Pink and fleshy sausage-like appendages, not the metallic, peach-coloured prosthetics he’d grown accustomed to installing each morning. And then he realised he didn’t need them to see either. His goggles were gone, and his eyes were finally open. “This shouldn’t be possible,” he gasped under his breath.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Tenny,” a voice called to him, as a man entered the room, wearing an orange suit that wouldn’t have looked out of place in David S. Pumpkins’ closet. “Here, my dear two-eyed friend. Anything’s possible.”
Ten’s eyes narrowed; a sensation he wasn’t used to, as he focused in on the man and his unusual attire. “You’re Spellbinder, aren’t you?” he identified him. “I bought your book.”
“Did you like it?” Billings asked, hoping for heaps of praise towards his prose.
“I never read it,” Ten responded dryly, taking in his surreal surroundings. “How are you doing this?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Billings scoffed, an arrogant, slightly drunken, smile on his face. “Even if I had a decade to explain it.”
“I can only imagine your illusions function similarly to my prosthetics, projecting the images you want me to see directly into my brain.”
Billings, said nothing.
===Sheldon Elementary===
Drury adjusted his tie, Cammy’s hand in his, as he walked him backstage; he took a peak through the silk curtains and caught Miranda smiling back. He blew her a kiss, then retreated back behind the red shroud, before she could notice his eyes had begun to water.
He turned to Cammy and knelt beside him, placing both hands on his shoulders.
“Cammy... What I told you earlier, about being a Walker-” Drury swallowed. “You’re also a Gaige. And Gaiges? They do what Walkers can’t. They fight for what they want, and they don’t stop.”
“Why are you crying, daddy?” Cammy asked, his cheeks reddening.
“I don’t- I don’t know,” Drury lied. Again. “Maybe… maybe because I should have told you all of this before. Every day, every night. Just you remember, when those curtains open, if you feel frightened or nervous or alone. I’ll be there on the other… side.”
Cammy’s music teacher came into view, and as he smiled, he exposed a gap in his front teeth. When he did, Drury found his vision begin to blur again and again, he didn’t know why. “Great pep talk, Mr Mayor. Are you ready, Cammy?”
Along US422 west of Ebensburg, Cambria County, Pennsylvania. Thereis one road in and out. In fact, just after this marker is a sign that says "No Outlet".
At Antelope Point on Lake powell I caught two Striped Bass. We ate them for dinner. They are now considered an invasive species as they are displacing native fish, and thereis no catch limit on Lake Powell. Visit rosy-finch.blogspot.com
The Night
Morphine
You're the night, Lilah. A little girl lost in the woods.
You're a folk tale, the unexplainable
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.
It's too dark to see the landmarks. I don't want your good luckcharms.
I hope you're waiting for me across your carpet of stars.
You're the night, Lilah. You're everything that we can't see.
Lilah, you're the possibility.
You're the bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtainsclosed.
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.
Unknown the unlit world of old. You're the sounds I never heardbefore.
Off the map where the wild things grow. Another world outside mydoor.
Here I stand I'm all alone. Drive me down the pitch black road.
Lilah you're my only home and I can't make it on my own.
You're a bedtime story. The one that keeps the curtains closed.
And I hope you're waiting for me cause I can make it on my own.
I can make it on my own.
You're the paint can falling off the wall at the door that slamsat the end of the hall where the kid rings sounds of basketball.The battle of the earth of the angels. The shifting snow driftsso realistic, so realistic - call you carpet of stars. See thereis something in the yard. It's awful dark. With the paintedstrings, the cross, the good luck charm, the prayer, the extralayer. The group ???...
At Antelope Point on Lake powell I caught two Striped Bass. We ate them for dinner. They are now considered an invasive species as they are displacing native fish, and thereis no catch limit on Lake Powell. Visit rosy-finch.blogspot.com
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown
And things seem hard or tough
And people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
And you feel that you've had quite eno-o-o-o-o-ough
Just remember that you're standing on a planet that's evolving
And revolving at nine hundred miles an hour
That's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned
A sun that is the source of all our power
The sun :*, and you and me, and all the stars that we can see
Are moving at a million miles a day
In an outer spiral arm, at forty thousand miles an hour
Of the galaxy we call the Milky Way
Our galaxy itself contains a hundred billion stars
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick
But out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide
We're thirty thousand light-years from Galactic Central Point
We go 'round every two hundred million years
And our galaxy is only one of millions of billions
In this amazing and expanding universe
The universe itself keeps on expanding and expanding
In all of the directions it can whiz
As fast as it can go, at the speed of light, you know
Twelve million miles a minute and that's the fastest speed thereis
So remember when you're feeling very small and insecure
How amazingly unlikely is your birth
And pray that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
'Cause there's bugger all down here on Earth
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Soccer is one of the popular judi bola 88ball games now, and anyone who wants to place their bet can do so online. You can gamble with ball games online now, thereis tons of website that caters betting in ball games. Aside from watching your favourite team online, knowing that you are an avid fan you can get money by placing a bet to the team that you believe in. More Info kingbola99.com/cara-mendaftar-pada-situs-judi-bola-88-onl...
Taken in Gatley Carrs - my first few test shots with my new Nikon D80 - wow what a piece of kit - thereis no going back now to my manual compact!!
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Article Title: Rariglanda jerseyensis, a new ericalean fossil flower from the Late Cretaceous of New Jersey
Author: Camila Martínez, Thereis Y.S. Choo, Daniella Allevato, Kevin C. Nixon, William L. Crepet, Robert S. Harbert, Charles P. Daghlian
Citation: Botany, 2016, 94(9): 747-758, doi.org/10.1139/cjb-2016-0062
Source: dx.doi.org/10.1139/cjb-2016-0062
Caption: Fig. 5. SEM photograph of pollen of Rariglanda jerseyensis gen. et sp. nov., illustrating the striate micromorphology and the endoaperturial bulge in one of the apertures. Scale bar = 5 µm. www.nrcresearchpress.com/journal/cjb
For rights and permission, click he86 re [bit.ly/1pL1c5f]
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[...] Whatever tomorrow brings I'll be thereWith open arms and open eyes, yeahWhatever tomorrow brings I'll be thereI'll be there [...]
Copyright © Diego Formiga. All rights reserved.
A crap photo but it was fun
Mike Ellis on soprano
Helena X vocal
Jean-Mathis "Tott" Fritsch on bass
The german Djembe player on duty.
Thereis always a German drummer available on any Indian beach !
Hi ThereI've attached some photos I've found, circa 2005 - 2006 for most. May be too late for Flickr, but thought I'd try.Partner Summit Team - 2006Partner Summit - 2007Last day for the Cognos Sign Childrens Wish volunteers - Ribfest on Spark
Street ThanksLoriLori Teskeyloriteskey@rogers.com
Hi ThereI've attached some photos I've found, circa 2005 - 2006 for most. May be too late for Flickr, but thought I'd try.Partner Summit Team - 2006Partner Summit - 2007Last day for the Cognos Sign Childrens Wish volunteers - Ribfest on Spark
Street ThanksLoriLori Teskeyloriteskey@rogers.com
With God's Truth about Love...that we see everything with our Heart...in the Light of Holy Virtues...like an eagle flying above in the sky...that we see an overview of all thereis...that brings happiness and sufferings to the entire Humanity...an entirety of everything revealed...
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