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Translation: Tribunal. We accuse:
The German capitalists and their government participating in the genocide.
Frankfurt, Römerberg, left-wing demo for peace.
Translation sticker:
How relaxed I fall asleep
knowing, unvaccinated not "suddenly and unexpectedly".
to die.
The Vittoriale degli italiani (English translation: The shrine of Italian victories) is a hillside estate in the town of Gardone Riviera overlooking Lake Garda in province of Brescia, Lombardy. It is where the Italian writer Gabriele d'Annunzio lived after his defenestration in 1922 until his death in 1938. The estate consists of the residence of d'Annunzio called the Prioria (priory), an amphitheatre, the protected cruiser Puglia set into a hillside, a boathouse containing the MAS vessel used by D'Annunzio in 1918 and a circular mausoleum. Its grounds are now part of the Grandi Giardini Italiani.
The house, Villa Cargnacco, had belonged to the German art historian of the Italian Renaissance Henry Thode from whom it was confiscated by the Italian state, including artworks, a collection of books, and a piano which had belonged to Liszt. [2][3] d'Annunzio rented it in February 1921 and within a year reconstruction started under the guidance of architect Giancarlo Maroni. Due to d'Annunzio's popularity and his disagreement with the fascist government on several issues, such as the alliance with Nazi Germany, the fascists did what they could to please d'Annunzio in order to keep him away from political life in Rome. Part of their strategy was to make huge funds available to expand the property, to construct and/or modify buildings, and to create the impressive art and literature collection. In 1924 the airplane that d'Annunzio used for his pamphleteering run over Vienna during World War I was brought to the estate, followed in 1925 by the MAS naval vessel used by him to taunt the Austrians in 1918 in the Beffa di Buccari. In the same year the bow section of the protected cruiser Puglia was hauled up the hill and placed in the woods behind the house, and the property was expanded by acquisition of surrounding lands and buildings.
In 1926 the government donated an amount of 10 million lire, which allowed a considerable enlargement of the Villa, with a new wing named the Schifamondo. In 1931 construction was started on the Parlaggio, the name for the amphitheatre. The mausoleum was designed after d'Annunzio's death but not actually built until 1955, and d'Annunzio's remains were finally brought there in 1963.
Based partially off of the Lost in Translation Music Video youtu.be/qV_lcpLPZ8Q and Lore Olympus www.webtoons.com/en/romance/lore-olympus/list?title_no=1320, Both of which I highly recommend, and Hammer's contest gave me the best opportunity to post this. So here we go!
L-R: Dio, Persephone, Hades, Hermes, and Demeter.
Dio- An alcoholic minor god who goes in ajd out of rehab. He mainly is drinking buddies with Hades in spite of his dad.
Persephone- A young minor goddess that was sheltered and transformed to look like a nymph. Always followed her mother's rules, until she decided she had had enough, and decided to leave her home to pursue a more "fun" life, she felt lonely, sad, and such. Until she met Hades.
Hades- A major god that has grown tired of his life, what with his ex Minthe dumping him, and wanting something new besides dealing poker with other "evil" gods. That's when he met Persephone, and decided to help her out and show her the world.
Hermes- A mailman that often delivers stuff to all the other gods, he is the first and technically only best friend of Persephone. He helps Demeter try to find her.
Demeter- A goddess who has raised her daughter nearly since 1600s. After the witch trials, she decided to run and raise her daughter deep in the woods of Minnesota. She and her daughter lived peacefully, until 400 years later, where she ran off and this distressed her to the point where Zeus had Hermes go with her to search the planet for her daughter. She will find her daughter by any means necessary.
Lucifer (translation: First Light of the Morning; Morning Star, God's first living creation. Most beautiful, betrayer of the hosts of heaven.
Michael (translation: who is like God?), performs acts of justice and power
Gabriel (translation: the strength of God), performs God's kindness
Raphael (translation: God Heals), God's healing force
Uriel (translation: God is my light), leads us to destiny
Samael (translation: the severity of God), angel of death—see also Malach HaMavet (translation: the angel of death)
Sandalphon (translation: bringing together), battles Samael and brings humankind together
Camael/Chamuel (translation: one who seeks God), expelled Adam from the Garden of Eden and punishes those who transgress against God
Sataniel/Satan (translation: the adversary), tempts humans, serves as an adversary, and brings people's sins before them in the heavenly court
Metatron (translation is disputed, may mean "keeper of the watch", "guardian", or "he who sits behind the throne of Heaven"), God's heavenly scribe recording the deeds of all that is
The Indravati Water Project has been touted as one of the biggest success stories for one of India's poorest districts, Kalahandi in Orissa. Due the improved irrigation facilities, it is claimed, farmers now have two to three crops in a year as opposed to the single monsoon crop earlier.
But the other side of this development coin saw displacement of families to make space for the reservoir. The families were rehabilitated with little money or land, leaving them entirely to the vagaries of seasonal wage labor.
A father and son looks lost at the vast expanse of the indravati reservoir where once used to be their home and farmland.
In Kalahandi, Orissa
Had a great photowalk with some friends on Sunday.
Please take your time and check out the beautiful photostreams of these beautiful people.
You won't regret it! :)
Torode
www.flickr.com/photos/bentorode/
Jason Weddington
www.flickr.com/photos/jwedd459/
Laura Cattaneo
www.flickr.com/photos/lauracattaneo/
Ginza, Tokyo
Found in west Japan. Normally Japanese to English translations are very good or at least understandable. But this one ended up being made into a sign outside a department store.
Finally finished with my self portrait for the portrait exchange group!
This drawing was done as part of the first international moleskine sketchbook portrait exchange, check us out here: Moly_x_portraits1
For more moly exchange groups www.flickr.com/groups/moly_x
In Oberschwaben, so auch an dem Fluss Iller, ist Schnee gefallen.
Der 147 Km lange Fluss Iller entsteht aus dem Zusammenfluss von Breitach, Stillach und Trettach bei Oberstdorf im Allgäu in Deutschland und mündet bei Ulm in die Donau.
In Upper Swabia, as on the river Iller, snow fell.
The 147 km long River Iller originates from the confluence of Breitach, Stillach and Trettach near Oberstdorf in the Allgäu in Germany and flows into the Danube at Ulm.
>Translation with Translator<
Roid Week Day 5 - Another from the Thames River Walk. You could be forgiven for thinking it was taken in the late afternoon. It wasn't. It was dark but I was standing under a lamp and I think I may have exposed it to the light as well. Still like it though and the two ladies were very accommodating. I had to direct them via a sort of sign language as they didn't speak much english and I don't speak anything but (sadly) but they patiently waited until I was finished and then thanked me and went on their way :)
Polaroid SX70 Sonar OneStep and Impossible PX70 Cool film
[translated with the help of deepl.com from the original german article meine.stimme.de/heilbronn/natur/aus-dem-leben-eines-kater...
See also the photos and videos of Timmy www.flickr.com/photos/wolfgang-kynast/albums (Ctrl-F Timmy) ]
Well, I have quite a decent life here in Sontheim at the Deinenbach brook. My daddy doesn't do a bad job as a can opener - not every pelt-nose has a buffet with at least four bowls, my buddies have enviously told me. And if he has bought the wrong food, he is usually reasonable - it is enough if I sit reproachfully in front of the bowl in question.
Except in the second half of the night I always have free exit and entrance and also at night I am allowed at least on the terrace to keep an eye on my territory. It's a good thing that Daddy had a small cat door built into the patio door for me.
Only sometimes Daddy is a little stubborn: just because there is a little more water than usual in the Deinenbach brook, he doesn't have to lock me up - I'm no longer a silly young kitten that falls into the stream, and besides, I can swim!
What belongs to me here is quite nice: the garden, the terrace, the bench with the grass catcher box in which I love to sleep, the table, the lookout ladder and the lookout tower. In the garden I have my own valerian, catnip and cat's chamomander. My apartment is not bad either, there is no lack of places for a nap. But the highlight is the dining table - when I sit on it, daddy likes to sit with me and then our heads are exactly at the same height. Not a bad condition for an extensive cuddle session ;-) Then his nose is also exactly at the height of my ear - I love it when his nose pokes in my ear!
At first grandma scolded me when I went to the table, but since daddy and I explained to her a few times that the table belongs to me, she is satisfied that she can eat at my table. Daddy gets to do the same, of course. Sometimes they have something interesting on their plates. Unfortunately, Daddy is very careful with the butter dish now.
At night, I like to shuttle back and forth between my lookout ladder on the terrace and our bed. It's quite nice to kick a few rounds next to Daddy and be stroked while doing so. I also just have to lie on my side or back and I get stroked there too. When I have had enough, I bite him lightly in the hand, which he then understands and leaves me alone. Only sometimes he snores so that I prefer to flee back to the terrace.
In the morning shortly after 7 o'clock I always go to bed to Daddy. He then turns around and puts his feet under his pillow. That way we can cuddle especially nicely. I lie down in his arm or against his chest and head and he strokes me with his other hand.
The other day, I lost track of time a bit and didn't get to our room until 7:35. Daddy was already sitting on the edge of the bed and wanted to get up. But then I opened my eyes wide and looked horrified! He immediately realized that getting up without cuddling first is not possible and laid down again - upside down, his feet under his pillow, as it should be. Then we snuggled together and dozed a bit until the emergency alarm beeped at 7:50 am. That's the way to do it!
In the morning, I sometimes accompany Daddy to the bathroom. You can lie comfortably on Grandma's shower chair or rub heads with Daddy when he's sitting on the toilet. But when he turns on the shower, I prefer to move to the toilet seat. It's nicely padded, too. I'm not at all afraid of water, but I would like to decide for myself when I take a shower!
Somehow daddy is a little piglet - a short shower once in the morning is not enough for the whole day. He should take an example from me, I lick myself thoroughly a few times a day. And then every few weeks a full bath, you are always a clean and well-groomed cat and do not need so stuff from the spray can under the armpits!
During the day there is usually also entertainment. In the house and in the neighbourhood live nice people who are always happy to see me and greet me and also stroke me sometimes. Especially nice plays our janitor Martina, my friend, with me.
Unfortunately, Daddy is in the garden far too seldom. I love helping him with the gardening or taking photos. What he means by "I'll break my bones because I' m falling over you", I don't understand.
When there's nothing else going on, I cross the bridge to the other side of the stream and look for Sammy. He's always good for a bit of a scuffle. I really beat him up when he dares to cross to my side of the stream! Then, in the heat of the moment, we sometimes end up in the stream or a sandy waterhole on the construction site.
A tomcat has to do what a tomcat has to do! It's nice that Daddy understands that and dries me off without scolding me.
So, that was part 1 of my memoirs. You can't start writing down your experiences early enough. Some footballers do the same ;-)
Timmy
(dozed of after dictation)
More cat stories: www.wolfgang-kynast.de/katzen.htm
perdersi per berlino senza capire una parola
vagare vagare senza una meta
attendendo l'ora per ritornare dal fratello
camminare senza sosta e fissare tutto quello che ti trovi attorno
e poi arrivare qui e fermarsi per tre ore a leggere un libro comprato per sbaglio estraniandosi dal mondo
;-) Texto en castellano mas abajo ;-)
Excuse me the many mistakes that sure I have committed in the translation, I hope that it is understood regardless!
Development of the trilogy blog – pride – persons.
The second part of this trilogy that I dedicate to explain, and to explain myself, because I use the captions (feet) of my photos as if they were my personal blog. This time I will comment because I feel proud, basing on my concept of person that I exposed in the first photo of the trilogy.
I am a heterosexual crossdresser girl. It is a fact … but, what does it means? If I you tell the truth, I don´t know it with certainty. It seems as if every crossdresser girl had her own definition … probably because there are many branches inside the crossdress … but this it is another theme. I suppose that to the others happen like to me, I am ashamed instinctively of this facet of my life, it is something cultural, the image of the "transvestite" is at least ridiculous, laughable, even I fall down in it without thinking it. It is like if it was so unnatural, so out of place, so incomprehensibly … why a sane man, that considers himself as man, would try to pass off as a woman?... And this it is the nice image, also there is the vicious image, in which you are a disgusting pervert which who know how many more barbarities will do. It is not to feel very proud … not. But the reason wins to the instinct, I am a person, and as such I have reasoning and feelings, and they say to me that this it is not the reality, it is not my reality. Maybe it is a parafilia, as some people say, or maybe it is the aptitude to overcome the assigned role and experiencing positive sensations that are denied to us without reason. I do not have answers, disease or quality, I don´t know, but I know that I do not have motives for which to be ashamed. I am a person, with multiple characteristics, but none of them defines me lonely and to be a crossdresser girl is not the exception, only it is a small part of me. Globally I am not discontented with me, do not understand me badly, I should improve very much as person, but if tomorrow I would die and I would have to give account for my life and for what I am, I believe that I would go out in peace, and it is a motive of pride. The global pride like person, to feel yourself well with total honesty is what really matters. And the pride for the different characteristics that I have? It is a different pride, with different purposes, bad some as arrogance, and other more positive as the reaffirmation. The pride that I feel for be a crossdress girl is of this type. If the things were as they should be, surely I would not feel proud for it, would be another characteristic more as to have small foot or the dark eyes. But unfortunately the things are not like that, and some groups have had to use pride as method of defense, as reaffirmation against discriminations and injustices.The example most clear is the homosexuality. I am hetero and it allows me to see the situation from out, impartially, and I believe that they do very well in feeling proud, because understandable better or worse, what harm do it?, why to make to feel badly to a person for a quality that goes implicit in that person?... My crossdress does not harm anybody either and though I can give up practising it, it is not anything that could make disappear of me, as I cannot change my liking or my way of being, it is a part of my intimate self. So, if I see it good for the others, why not for me?
I look around and see so many motives for what the people should be ashamed, so many attitudes, so many actions that cause so much harm … And later I look at me, being ashamed instinctively for wearing a dress or for feeling feminine … Not … I refuse to accept it, it is possible that in the moment I could not avoid the instinct, but I refuse to accept consciously a shame that does not correspond to me, because of it I am proud! This one is not an allegation in order that we all go out to the light and feel us superproud (though it would be very well also I understand that it is very difficult and dangerous), it is for feeling us well with ourselves and we do not torture psychologically ourselves without motive. The crossdress makes me feel good, and when I dress and look at the mirror, there goes out for me a smile of satisfaction and pride. I am proud!!
Desarrollo de la trilogía blog-orgullo-personas.
Segunda parte de esta trilogía que dedico a explicar, y a explicarme a mi misma de paso, el porque utilizo los pies de fotos como si fueran mi blog personal. Esta vez os comentaré porqué me siento orgullosa, basándome en mi concepto de persona que expuse en la primera foto de la trilogía.
Soy una chica crossdresser heterosexual. Es un hecho… pero, ¿que significa eso? Si os digo la verdad, ni yo misma lo se con seguridad. Parece como si cada chica cd tuviera su propia definición… quizás porque hay muchísimas ramas dentro del crossdress… pero ese es otro tema. Supongo que a las demás os pasará como a mí, me avergüenzo instintivamente de esta faceta de mi vida, es algo cultural, la imagen del “travesti” es como mínimo ridícula, risible, yo misma caigo en eso sin pensarlo. Es como si fuera tan antinatural, tan fuera de lugar, tan incomprensible… ¿por que un hombre cuerdo, que se considera hombre, intentaría pasar por mujer?... Y esa es la imagen amable, también está la imagen viciosa, en la que eres un pervertido asqueroso que ha saber que barbaridades mas hará. No es para sentirse muy orgullosa… no. Pero la razón vence al instinto, soy una persona, y como tal tengo razonamiento y sentimientos, y ellos me dicen que esa no es la realidad, no es mi realidad. Quizás se trate de una parafilia como dicen algunos, o quizás sea la capacidad de superar el rol asignado y experimentar sensaciones positivas que nos son negadas sin razón. No tengo respuestas, enfermedad o cualidad, no lo se, lo que si se es que no tengo motivos por los que avergonzarme. Soy una persona, con múltiples características, pero ninguna de ellas me define por si sola y ser una chica cross no es la excepción, solo es una pequeña parte de mi. Globalmente no estoy descontenta de mi misma, no me entendáis mal, debería de mejorar muchísimo como persona, pero si mañana muriera y tuviera que rendir cuentas sobre mi vida y lo que soy, creo que saldría en paz, y eso es motivo de orgullo. El orgullo global como persona, el sentirse bien con una misma de forma totalmente sincera es lo que realmente importa. ¿Y el orgullo por las diferentes características que tengo? Ese es un orgullo distinto, con distintas finalidades, algunas malas como la soberbia, y otras mas positivas como la reafirmación. El orgullo que siento por ser una chica crossdress es de este tipo. Si las cosas fueran como deberían de ser, seguramente no me sentiría orgullosa por ello, sería otra característica mas como el tener los pies pequeños o los ojos negros. Pero desgraciadamente las cosas no son así, y algunos colectivos han tenido que tirar de orgullo como método de defensa, como reafirmación ante discriminaciones e injusticias. El ejemplo mas claro de esto es la homosexualidad. Yo soy hetero y eso me permite ver la situación desde fuera, imparcialmente, y creo que hacen muy bien en sentirse orgullosos, porque se entienda mejor o peor, ¿que mal hacen a nadie?, ¿por que hacer sentir mal a una persona por una cualidad que va implícita en ella?... Mi crossdress tampoco hace mal a nadie y aunque puedo renunciar a practicarlo, no es algo que pueda hacer desaparecer de mí, al igual que no puedo cambiar mis gustos o mi forma de ser, es parte de mi yo íntimo. Así que si lo veo bien para los demás, ¿por que no para mí?
Miro alrededor y veo tantos motivos por lo que la gente debería avergonzarse, tantas actitudes, tantas acciones que hacen tanto mal… Y después me miro a mí, avergonzándome instintivamente por ponerme un vestido o por sentirme femenina… No… no lo acepto, puede que en el momento no pueda evitar el instinto, pero me niego a aceptar conscientemente una vergüenza que no me corresponde, ¡por eso estoy orgullosa! Este no es un alegato para que salgamos todas a la luz y nos sintamos superorgullosas (aunque eso estaría muy bien también entiendo que es muy difícil y peligroso), sino para que nos sintamos bien con nosotras mismas y no nos martiricemos psicológicamente sin motivo. El crossdress me hace sentir bien, y cuando me visto y me miro al espejo, me sale una sonrisa de satisfacción y orgullo. ¡¡Estoy orgullosa!!
PS: Si quieres ver un video con este look (If you want see a video with this look):
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GHQJ03rBJg
Si quieres ver una versión reducida en Flickrs (If you want see a small version in Flickrs):
www.flickr.com/photos/61410455@N08/6319457850/in/photostream