View allAll Photos Tagged decency
In keeping with standards of decency I have included no nipples of any genre here. Stop sniggering at the back there.
A second picture of the quaint octagonal cast iron gents urinal. This view is taken from Prospect Row (now Jennens Road) it is looking at the two roads, Belmont Row & A.B. Row, which formed the small triangle on which the convenience stood.
This view shows the decency screen and the whole of the roof detail (Peter 'clipped' the finial on pp,045) Also in the main scene of both pictures is one of the ornate silver cast iron bollards a feature in Birmingham, they were placed to protect vulnerable structures from vehicle damage.
The interior views show the construction of the urinal, this type of structure was really a kit of parts, each stall and panel was separate and they could be joined in various configurations, the entrance was just a panel sized gap, smaller sized panels were used in the decency screen. The interior view also shows one of the stark enamel plates headed "Venereal Diseases" these plates were in every gents convenience and the plates listed hospital V.D. treatment clinic times. The second picture is the entrance with the inward side (lighter) of the decency screen.
Peter Shoesmith Circa 1958
Copyright Geoff Dowling & John Whitehouse all Rights reserved
This is from a roll of film that I thought was lost. On Monday evening, I stopped by to pick up two rolls at the local HEB lab, and arrived home with only one. I called them back, and ripped through several locations trying to find it. The only conclusion, finally, was that in my rush (an insanely busy day, and I was just getting hit with symptoms consistent with sinusitis -- a bloody killer headache, for instance) the photo envelope fell out of my bag and was, very simply, gone. I don't know who would have even the most remote interest in stealing them, really, so I assumed they'd been picked up by maintenance and deep-sixed with the other trash. A bit dispiriting, yes, particularly given my slightly weakened state. But given everything else that I have to deal with at the moment, something like this couldn't seem more hopelessly insignificant. But still...
Ok. Early this afternoon, I received a cryptic message on my cell, and it turned out to be from the fine folks at the lab. Some kind soul apparently found the photo envelope (w/ negatives and CD) and simply left it on the counter. So, this evening, I stopped by and picked it up. This image was from the beginning of the roll, and I dedicate it to this anonymous person who, in simply doing what's right, sort of reaffirmed what little faith I have left in the essential decency of people, if you will. It's been a bit strained of late. So, thank you. Prost! ^_^
President went to war with the lawyers.
Lawyers lead revolution for democracy.
Populace voted out President's base in 02-2008.
Parliament to soon meet and ....
Lawyers and history repeat themselves.
Thomas Jefferson led pre-U.S.A. from King George.
Gandhi led modern India from English rule.
Many other lawyers went with democracy before today.
Can today's Pakistan go non-violently into the future?
Will military or democracy win this round politically?
Will you pray, for non-violence (less humans die)?
WHO ARE THE SEA SHEPHERDS?
International volunteers so passionate, so steadfast, determined and courageous that it takes an armed Danish Naval Force to stop our aggressive but non-violent interventions on behalf of life in our Ocean.
Ordinary people who have chosen to be Shepherds defending marine life, compassionate people willing to risk their lives and freedom to oppose cruelty, destruction and slaughter.
The Faroese whalers are blood thirsty craven killers hiding behind the skirts of the Danish Navy. They demonstrate their pathetic culture by slaughtering the gentlest of the sentient beings in the sea, and in so doing they bring ignoble shame upon the entire human race with their arrogant displays of pitiless violence. They kill thoughtlessly, without remorse and beat their chest like soulless creatures devoid of empathy and decency.
Photo : Sea Shepherd
“Decency is the least of all laws, but yet it is the law which is most strictly observed”.
(François de la Rochefoucauld - French classical author, 1613-1680)
It is uneasy to maintain the limits of decency while taking pictures of Banarsi women bathing in the holy waters of the Ganges.
Their wet sarees are very sensual and according to modern Indian customs and morality it is banned to show feminine nudity or anything which could suggest it.
By chance water drops were splashing around and covering what could have become a source of trouble in this picture and besides the faces of those ladies can't be seen.
In a way it is ironical to think about this in the land of the kama sutra where ancient temples show sculptures with voluptuous and erotic carvings...
© All photographs are copyrighted and all rights reserved.
Please do not use any photographs without permission (even for private use).
The use of any work without consent of the artist is PROHIBITED and will lead automatically to consequences.
War is a toxin for the human psyche. It bombards the senses with relentless overstimulation fueled by the constant fear of death. In such an environment, one is forced into profound cognitive dissonance—committing acts of violence while believing that taking a life is inherently wrong, and yet clinging to the notion of personal decency that any observer would find hard to believe. Eventually, the body begins to manifest the inevitable toll of this relentless strain.
This image is copyright, all rights reserved, and not part of the public domain. Any use, linking to, or posting of this image is prohibited without my consent. If you want to use this image in any fashion, please have the common courtesy and decency to ask.
Lost Lake, Mount Hood National Forest, Oregon
After getting all the vertical action I could with the reflections of the lake, I went horizontal to finish up. It was so beautiful seeing all those stars.
Removing a Weapon of Mass Ecological Destruction
The Hauling Continues.
As the “Bob Barker” continues to pursue the Nigerian flagged poacher “Thunder” northward, the “Sam Simon” some 1200 nautical miles to the southeast continues to haul in the illegally set gillnet. After three days of hauling, there is now 20,000 meters of line and net on the deck of the “Sam Simon” and the crew continue to work around the clock in four hour shifts with the retrieval. The crew have no idea how long this single net is. They have half of it on board, maybe even a quarter, they will not know the actual length until the last of the net is retrieved.
The net has to be hauled up from a depth of 2 kilometres.
The galley crew are operating 24 hours a day to keep the deck shifts fed, and warm with tea and coffee and the medical officer has been proscribing pain-killers for stiff neck and back pains. The bridge team are doing 4 hours on deck, then four hours on the bridge and eight off, then back to the cycle again.
Captain Siddharth Chakavarty reports that his crew are all in great spirits and happy to be hauling in this weapon of mass ecological destruction.
Captain Peter Hammarsted reports that the “Thunder” is moving slowly northward without any defined destination.
If there is a law but there is no sheriff in town, it becomes the responsibility of concerned citizens to enforce the law. The “Thunder” is listed by Interpol as the most notorious of the Southern Ocean poaching vessels. Sea Shepherd has intercepted and shut down the criminal operations of this ship and it’s crew of pirates.
Sea Shepherd does not expect a medal or a commendation from any government for this intervention and it looks certain there will be no assistance forth coming, but the least the politicians can do in the face of their own lack of involvement or concern is to keep their criticisms to themselves. If they have not got the courage or the decency to act against illegal fishing themselves, they should dispense with their attacks and allow Sea Shepherd to do the job they refuse to do.
Photo : Sea Shepherd
"That's what it takes to be a hero, a little gem of innocence inside you that makes you want to believe that there still exists a right and wrong, that decency will somehow triumph in the end ~ Lise Hand
Dedicated to the Innocence Project a national organization that is dedicated to exonerating wrongfully convicted people through DNA testing and reforming the criminal justice system.
Taken June 29, 2008
====Sionis Industries====
Sionis- I see Clayface, I see Orca, but I don't see Penguin. Freeze?
Freeze- We found surveillance equipment in the subbasement. Sionis Industries. Ace Chemicals. He's been watching it all. Except... for you, Brown. You, haven't been worth his time.
Chuck stands beside Freeze quietly, thinking to himself. "Once this is over, once I have clean electronics and my own place again, I'm going to need a long hot shower"
"This, we recovered from Hagen. A radio."
Freeze hands it to Sionis. For a moment, he just stares at it, and then, presses play. He's met with a familiar breathing sound on the other end.
"Penguin."
Penguin- Roman.
...
Sionis- Let's make this quick. Where, are you?
Penguin- You know I can't answer that.
Sionis- Then, you know this isn't worth my time.
Penguin- Just hear me out. If you give me five minutes-
Sionis- You tried to kill me, Oswald. And you didn't even admit it. You know, I always knew it'd come to this. But you didn't even have the decency to do it honestly.
Penguin- Just. Hear me out. Five minutes.
Sionis- Five minutes. And, you better skip the poetry.
Penguin- Thank you. How to explain it... The inmates here consider Arkham a waking nightmare. Hell, they say. I disagree. It is only a nightmare, because we allowed it to be one. Because we declared it as such.
During my last incarceration in Blackgate Penitentiary, I was, over four months, able to take control of the prison's east side. In six months, the Monarch, The Monarch of Menace, owned the South. Together, we formed an alliance- to escape. But to do so, we needed control of the West Wing- built atop a series of tunnels, not unlike the tunnels here in Arkham. This, was controlled by the Music Meister. Those who even knew he existed were few and far between, but there he was. King of Blackgate. He had, let's say, a way with words. The stories you've heard? They're all true. We offered him a place in our alliance- the two of us had heard rumours of a plan he had developed, so of course, our combined manpower would surely be unstoppable. But the Meister doesn't share power. Do you know what he bragged about, as he had Tockman and Kyle drag us down to Croc's lair? His friends. His friends on the other side. We had him killed a week later, through the very method he had intended for us. As Blackgate fell, so did he, and Gotham, Gotham was mine once more. Well, if not for you of course. Ha. With the monarch acting as my regent, I left for Japan. I intended to track down Meister's compatriots. And I did.
For you see, in Tokyo, I met a renegade faction, a group of warriors who opposed Meister's allies, led by this man, Osaki- I asked him for answers, and he told me all he knew. They had infiltrated the Yakuza decades ago, converted their most influential members into servitude, into part of a "higher cause." In Italy, they'd taken over the Mafia, its' Don's sport their porcelain masks, their signature, behind closed doors. They supplied them both, supplied them all, with hitmen, the kind of assassin that was utterly loyal, and unable to be captured. And it led me home. To Gotham. These... Owls, had reached Music Meister in Blackgate, leaving him in charge, keeping order until... Until they could unleash a riot, the kind that would give their chosen champion a platform to battle on. You'd know him, as Daniel, "Danto" Twag.
Chuck- God, you're working with them aren't you? That's why you sent Needham, why you-
Sionis- Ran off like a good little coward.
Penguin- I am not a coward! I came here, to prepare for the inevitable. Six months ago, on Easter Sunday, I brought all of you together. Through blood? Yes. Through deception? Of course. But I needed you, all of you, to work past your incessant *bullshit* so we could survive. And even then, you people just couldn't let things be.
Sionis- Because you tried to kill me, Oswald, me.
"Because you can't change Roman. You would always be bickering with some poor sod, always one hand on your holster and the other down your pants."
Sionis- Five minutes, did we say? Li!
Penguin- No! Don't you get it? We're pawns, Roman, I'm just one who's seen through it. The Owls wanted us fractured, focused on warring with each other, instead of focusing on the whys, the whos, the what. Because who's left to ask "why" when we're all shooting at each other?
Sionis- Oh Oswald... I know you. Really know you. You might, *might* have noble goals, but deep down, you really just want more power, more people to control. Today, it'll be Owls, tomorrow it'll be Bane or, heck, the day after it might be Brainiac. You want us scared, because, well, it's like you said, who's left to ask why when we're all crapping ourselves in terror.
Penguin- Perhaps Roman. Perhaps. But right now, I'm also the only person you can truly depend on. What do you say?
====Louisiana=====
The hypersonics are working. A black blur in the distance confirms as much. He'll be here in ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Impact imminent.
"Zod?"
No. *Uhn* The creature has his powers, but it is feral, brutish. One of his underlings then. A waste of time. The Kryptonite in my veins may dull it's senses, the red sunlight emitters may sap it's strength, but each tool I use, is a tool I can't use on my intended target. And I know now that he's been watching me all along.
"From the sound of your breaking bones, I assume you've engaged Zod?"
Bane- Not now, Kuttler. I'm busy.
The longer the creature's in red sunlight, the weaker it becomes. Each strike that lands hurts it harder, and harder and-
"Can you hear me, human? I do hope you can. I don't care for your politics. On Krypton, it was the politicians who had Non lobotomised. It was the politicians who refused to act when Krypton needed them. I have seen your planet, Earth Man, I see very little difference between our governments, and I see very little reason to care for your plight. You have one chance. Impress me."
====Under Arkham====
Drury- Hey! Hey Norbert, I just wanted to talk, is that alright?
Norbert nods, but doesn't say anything.
Drury- It's about what you said, just before Deathstroke- Look, I need you to know this. I didn't bring you for the muscle. And I didn't bring you because I miss having Gar around. Like I said in Washington, I want to give you a choice. ... His name is Kirk Langstrom. He was taken to Arkham two months ago, brilliant scientist- I worked with him before... But he's also a Bat thing.
Norbert- Like Batman?
Drury-Not exactly... Look, the thing is... I robbed you of the chance to be normal when I blew Strange's lab up, because chances are, he would've just reprogrammed you like Hatter did. But Langstrom... He's a good guy. Mostly. And if anyone can cure you, he can.
Norbert- But he's a bat man.
Drury- Yeah, well, different strokes. I know, I know, it probably doesn't make much sense to you "if he's so great, he probably wouldn't have turned into a bat in the first place," but nonetheless! He can help. Just need to find him.
Norbert- You really... You really want to help, don't you?
Drury- I do. And if I know Kirk, which I ought to, we've had dinner before, he will too. You're with good people, Norbert, and, marital problems aside, Batman over there is one of the best there is, right Bats?
Batman- Another 500 yards. Just remember, stick to the plan. You go off script, and they *will* kill you.
Drury- Yeah, no, I figured. I was just-
Batman puts his hand out to silence Drury, as he puts his other hand on his earpiece.
Batman- -Something's wrong. Oracle, I'm putting you on video what's the situation?
Oracle- Oh. Hi, everyone. Selina
Selina- *smiling* Babs.
Batman- Oracle-?
Oracle- Sorry, I just- Good for- *ahem* Batman, I'm trying to access the Arkham security protocols, but there's some kind of encryption, unlike anything I've seen, like it's a reflex, like a pulse.
Batman- It's alive... Oracle, is there a manual override, a terminal I can download the codes from?
...
Oracle- Yes, but you're not going to like where it is.
Selina- Let me guess, the top of Evil HQ?
Oracle- Ha, how did you know?
Selina- We're on it. Ra's can wait, we have to get those people out of here.
Miranda- Hang on, if we wait any longer, The Demon could already have rejuvenated himself. He *has* to be the priority.
Drury- Honey, if we can't stop him, hundreds of people, *our* people will die
...
Batman- I don't like splitting up like this.
Norbert- *Ahem* *We* can deal with him. Probably. You, can open doors. Minimise collateral.
...
Batman- ...He's right. Good luck, the three of you.
"God knows they'll need it...," Selina quips as she and Batman depart for the Belfry, disappearing into the distance.
Drury and Miranda share a weak smile, reciprocated by Norbert, as they too head off. All that stands in their way are 500 yards, and an army of ninjas.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
MANIFESTO GLEITZEIT 2015
BY STELLY RIESLING
Featured below is another original art work of mine in homage to THE PIONEER OF INVISIBLE ART — PAUL JAISINI. Forget all the copycats that came after him — Master Paul Jaisini was the *FIRST* of a totally original concept and the *BEST*. My favorite thing about him is that he’s a voice, not an echo, which is quite rare.
DISCLAIMER: This is for anyone who is a hater OR wishes to better understand me, what I’m all about, so you can decide whether I’m weird or normal enough for you — a kind of very loose manifesto, rushed and unrevised, full of raw uncut emotion that I don’t like to be evident in my writing as lately I prefer a more professional, formal style, so we can consider this a rough draft of the more polished writing to come when I have extra time. I might return to this text later and clean it up or break it into separate parts. Right now it’s a long-winded hot mess, so if you manage to make any sense of it, BIG PROPS TO YOU. lol …and if you manage to read it ALL, you have my solemn respect!!! in a day when reading has been reduced to just catchy headliners and short captions of images once in a while. The consequence of this one-liner internet culture is non-linear, tunnel thinking, which is baaaaaad.
There lives among us a most enigmatic and charismatic creature named Paul Jaisini who led me into the wonderful world of art, not personally, but through descriptions of his artworks in essays written and published online by his friend, which painted the most fascinating images in my mind. Early on as a kiddo, I experimented with photography, simple point and shoot whatever looked attractive to me. Digital manipulation of my photographs with computer software followed… and somehow I learned useful drawing techniques along the way to combine existing elements with nonexistent ones, which allowed me to elevate the context for my ideas. Later, I started creating my own digital art from scratch for my friends and family as a favorite pastime. They would shower me with praise and repeatedly encouraged me to share my “different” vision with the rest of the world… it took a while and wasn’t easy to overcome the insecurity of not being good enough along with a gripping fear of being harshly criticized, but one day I woman-ed up and started publishing my work on the web, reminding myself that my livelihood didn’t depend on a positive reception.
Paul Jaisini’s role in all this has been to not disgrace myself, even if what I do is just a hobby. And I would never do him and other genius artists the disservice of calling myself a professional because I know I’ll never be as good as any of the GIANTS of pre-modern history. Be the best or be nothing, no middle ground.
People’s jealousy in the past, future and present over my obsessive love of Paul Jaisini, which they are well aware is purely plutonic, has caused them to despise the man and has made many relationships/friendships impossible for me. I refuse to have such people in my life because by harboring any negativity towards Paul, they unknowingly feel that way about me and express it to me. It’s their own problem for not realizing this. Paul’s new art movement, Gleitzeit, shaped me into the allegedly awesome girl I am today, giving my art more edge, more “sexy” because it refined my vision of the world and propelled me to attain the skills necessary to not dishonor my family name through tenacious pursuit of perfection. Since the beginning of my life, I attempted to depict what I saw in visual, musical and literal forms, but continuously failed without adequate training and determination. Paul Jaisini’s Gleitzeit was the answer to my prayers. Who I am today I owe mostly to him and his selfless ideals of the artverse that I’ve given unconditional loyalty to (he has this cool ability for hyper-vision to see whole universes, not itty bitty worlds, hence I call it an artverse instead of art world, with him in mind). So again, anyone who hates Paul Jaisini hates ME because, regardless of what he means to you, he is the most important person in my life for making me ME. The way a famous actor, dancer or singer inspires others to act, dance or sing, Paul inspired me to become a better artist, better writer, better everything. More people would understand if he was a household name because they’re wired to in society. But we’re inspiring each other all the time in our own little communities without being famous, so if someone has the ability to change even ONE person’s life immensely with creativity, it is a massive achievement. And passionate folks like myself are compelled to scream it from the cyber rooftops. So here I am. It’s whatever.
Furthermore, I’d like to address here a few pressing matters in light of some recent drama brought on by both strangers and former friends. To start, I never judge the passions, interests or likes of others, which are often in my face all over the place, so likewise they have no right to judge any of mine. It is quite unfortunate and frustrating how very little understanding and education the majority of people have or want to have. Their logic is as primitive as a chipmunk when it comes to promotion of fine art on the web: “spamming, advertising, report!” It’s their own problem that they fail to understand what it’s about due to the distorted lens through which they see the world or inability to think for themselves; an inherent lack of perception or inquisitiveness. Well, guess what? Every single image, every animation, every video, every post dedicated to Mr. Paul Jaisini and “Gleitziet” (to elaborate: a revolutionary new art movement Paul founded with his partner in crime and personal friend, EYKG, who discovered him and believed in him more than anyone) has an important purpose. Every one of those things you run across is a piece of a puzzle, a move in a game, an inch down a rabbit hole; the deeper you go, the more interesting it gets; the more levels you pass, the more clues unfold, the greater the suspense and nearer the conclusion (yet further). You earn awesome rewards like enlightenment, spiritual revelations, truths, knowledge, wisdom and the most profound reward of all: the drive to improve yourself to the absolute maximum, so an unending, unshakable drive. People often make a wrong turn in this cyber game and go back a few levels or get stuck. Those that keep on pushing, however, will come to find the effort has been worth it. And what awaits you in the end of it all? The greatest challenge to beating the game: YOUR OWN MIND. You will be forced to let go of every belief you held before you had reached the last level, to completely alter your mindset and perception of the world, of life, of yourself. But by the time you’ve gotten to that point, it will be as easy as falling off a cliff! (It is a kind of suicide after all — death and rebirth of spirit.)
Paul Jaisini does NOT, *I repeat* does NOT use mystery and obscurity to his advantage as a clever marketing ploy, no, he’s too next level for that with a consciousness so rich, he should wear a radioactive warning sign (he’ll melt your brain, best wear a tinfoil hat in his presence as I certainly would.) The statement he makes is loud and clear, hidden in plain site for those who take the time to connect the dots and have enough curiosity to fuel their journey into unknown territory (an open mind and flexible perception helps a lot). Actually, anyone with an IQ above 90 is sure to figure it out sooner or later. Hint: You don’t have to SEE an extraordinary thing with your eyes to know it exists, to understand it and realize its greatness — you can only feel it in your bone marrow, your spinal fluid, your heart and soul. The moment you do figure it out, as the skeleton key of the human soul, it will unlock the greatness and massive potential buried deep within, changing the doomed direction humanity is undoubtedly headed. I don’t speak in riddles, I speak in a clear direct way that intelligent humans will understand, so I’m counting on them.
GIG is an international group of artists and writers that support Paul Jaisini’s Gleitzeit. We started off as an unofficial fan club of Jaisini in 1996, comprised of only 6 individuals spanning 3 countries, and eventually escalated in status to an official fan group across the entire globe. A decade later it had grown to hundreds of fans. Nearly another decade later, there are thousands. Let’s not leave out another delightful group of vicious haters that have been around for nearly as long as us since the late 90s and have also grown in impressive numbers. Now, for the record (and please write this one down because I’m sick of repeating myself), Paul Jaisini himself is not part of our group and has nothing to do with us. He loves and hates us equally for butchering his name and making him appear as a narcissistic nut-job in his own words. He casts hexes on us for the blinding flash we layer over the art that members contribute to GIG — “disgusting-police-lights, seizure-inducing-laser-lightshow, bourgeois-myspace-effects retarded-raver shit” in Paul’s words. Ahh, how we love his sweet-talking us. In a desperate attempt to please him, those among us who make the art and animations have spent countless hours and sleepless nights trying to solve a crazy-complex quantum-physics type of equation = how to not create tacky or tasteless content. He does fancy some of it now, we got better, that’s something! In the reason stated below, our mission just got out of hand at some point.
What little is known about Paul Jaisini, even in all this time, is he’s a horrible perfectionist who slaughtered hundreds of innocent babies — I mean — artworks of remarkable beauty created by his own right hand (mostly paintings, some watercolors and drawings). He’s a fierce recluse who wants nothing to do with anyone or anything in life. But those few of us who know of an incredible talent he possesses (one could go as far as calling it a superpower), could not allow him to live his life without the recognition he FUCKING DESERVES more than any artist out there living today and, arguably, yesterday. We use whatever means necessary to reach more people, lots of flash and razzle-dazzle to lure them into our sinister trap of a higher awareness. Mwahaha! The visual boom you’ve witnessed in both cyber and real worlds, that is GIG’s doing — two damn decades of spreading an art virus — IVA. InVisibleArtitis… or a drug as in Intravenous Art. It’s whatever you want it to be, honey.
Our Gleitzeit International Group (GIG) started off innocently enough and gradually spiraled out of control to fight the haters, annoying the hell out of them as much as humanly possible. They don’t like what we do? WE DO MORE AND MORE OF IT. But never without purpose, without a carefully executed plan in mind collectively. If we have to tolerate an endless tidal wave of everyone’s vomit — e.g., idiotic memes and comics; dumbed-down one-liner quotes; selfies; so-called “art photography” passed through one-click app filters; mindless scribbles or random splatters by regular folks who have the nerve to call themselves serious/pro artists; primitive images of pets, babies, landscapes, random objects, etc… then people sure as shit are gonna tolerate what we put out, our animated and non-animated visual art designed for our beloved master, Paul Jaisini, who has shown us the light, the right path to follow, taught us great things and done so much for us — and so in our appreciation of him, we stamp his name on everything, for the sacrifices he has made in the name of art, to save our art verse, he’s a goddamn hero. There’s a book being written in his dedication where little will be left to the imagination about him.
If Paul Jaisini was as famous as Koons or Hirst, for example, people would know it’s not him posting stuff online with his name on it but fans creating fanart like myself among others. But noooooo, such a thing is unfathomable to most people - the promotion of another artist. Like, what’s in it for us? Uhh, nothing?? This is all NON-PROFIT bitches, the way art should be. It’s a passion FIRST, a commodity/commercial product/marketable item LAST and least. Its been that way for us since the early 90s to this day. Not a single member of GIG has sold an art work (neither has Paul Jaisini who’s a true professional) and we want to keep it that way. We do it for reasons far beyond ego. So advertising? Really? How the hell do you advertise or sell thin air, you know, invisible paintings, invisible anything? Ha ha, very funny indeed. The idea here is so simple, your neighbor’s dog can grasp it. Our motives: replace fast food for the mind with fine art, actual fine art. You know, creativity? Conscious thought? Talent? Skill? Knowledge? All that good stuff rolled into one to bring viewers more than a momentary ooohand aaahh reaction. Replace the recycled images ad nauseum; repetitious, worn-out ideas; disposable, gimmicky, money-driven fast art for simpletons. Stick with the highest of ideals and save the whole bloody planet.
Fine art is often confused with craft-making. This often creates bad blood between classically trained artists who put out paintings that leave a lasting impression, that make strong conversation pieces, that are thought-provoking and deep… and trained craftspeople whose skills are adequate to create decorative pieces for homely environments — landscapes, still lifes, animals, pretty fairies, common things of fantasy, and other simplicity. Skills alone are not enough for high art, you need a vision, a purpose, the ability to tell a story with every stroke of your brush that will both fascinate and terrify the viewers, arousing powerful emotions, illuminating. I have yet to see a visible painting in my generation that does anything at all for me, other than evoke sheer outrage and disgust. What a terrible waste of space and valuable resources it all is.
Paul Jaisini leads, we follow. He wishes to remain unknown - so do most of us. I’m next in line, slipping into recluse mode, no longer wanting to attach my face, my human image to my art stuff. I wish to be a nameless, faceless artist as well, invisible like P.J., and in his footsteps I too have destroyed thousands of my own artistic photography and digital art made with tedious, labor-intensive handwork. The whole point of this destruction is achieving the finest results possible by letting go of the imperfect, purging it on a regular basis, to make way for the perfect. I love what I do so it doesn’t matter, I know I’ll keep producing as much as I’m discarding, keeping the balance. Hoarding is an enemy of progress, especially the digital kind as there’s absolutely no limit to it. It’s like carrying a load of bricks on your back you’ll never use or need.
The watering down of creativity that digital pack ratting has caused as observed over the years is most tragic. For the creative individual, relying on terabytes of stock photos or OSFAP as I call them (Once Size Fits All Photos) instead of making your own as you used to when you had no choice, being 100% original, is a splinter in the conscience. It’s not evil to use stock of, say, things you don’t have access to (outer space, deep sea, Antarctica, etc.), but many digital artists I know today can’t take their own shot of a pencil ‘cause they “ain’t got no time for that!” How did they have time before? Did time get so compressed in only a decade?
Ohhhhh, and the edits, textures, filters, plug-ins and what-have-you available out there to everyone and their cats… are responsible for the tidal wave of rubbish that eclipses the magnificent light of the real talents.
I can tell you with utmost sincerity there is no better feeling on earth than knowing your creation is ALL yours, every pixel and dot, from the first to the last. It’s not always possible to make it so, but definitely the most rewarding endeavor. I’m most proud of myself when I can accomplish that.
Back to Paul Jaisini, from the start there have been a number of theories floating around on what his real story is. One of my own theories is that he stands for the unknowns of the world who can’t get representation, can’t get exhibited at a decent gallery because highly gifted/trained artists aren’t good enough - those kind of establishments prefer bananas, balloon dogs, feces, gigantic dicks/cunts, and all kinds of what-the-fucks…
So again, you don’t get the Paul Jaisini thing? That’s your problem. Don’t hate others for getting it. People are good, very good, at making baseless assumptions and impulsively spewing it as truth. They criticize and judge as if they’re high authorities on the subject yet they clearly lack education in fine art or art history and possess little to no talent or skill to back up their bullshit. My little “credibility radar” never fails. When they say I know this or I know that, I reply don’t say “I know” or state things as fact as a general rule of thumb - instead say “I assume/believe” and state the reasons you feel thus to appear less immature, especially about a controversial topic like invisible art. I have zero respect or tolerance for egomaniacs who think they know it all and act accordingly like arrogant pricks. Who can stand those, right? Once again, a good example would be: I, Stelly Riesling, believe everything I’ve written in this little manifesto to be correct based on personal experience and observation from multiple angles, thorough research and sufficient data collected from verifiable sources (and don’t go copying-pasting my own words back at me, be original). Just because you or I say so doesn’t make it so. Just because you or me think or believe so doesn’t make it true or right. I only ask that my opinions are regarded respectfully and whoever opposes them does so in a mature, civilized manner. We should only be entitled to opinions that don’t bring out the worst in us.
I don’t normally take such a position, but the time has come to stand up for what I believe in! It’s quite amusing and comical how haters think calling me names, attacking me or my interests or members of the project I’m part of for years is going to change something. It only makes more evident the importance of what I’m doing so I push on harder still.
Words of advise to those who can identify with me, with my frustrations over people’s reluctance to change their miserable ways, with our declining art world…
DON’T waste time on people who sweat the small stuff, whose actions are consistently inconsistent with their words. DO waste time on people who always keep their eye on the ball—the bigger picture of life.
Paul Jaisini’s invisible paintings are more than hype, more than your lame assumptions. Here’s one I got that’s pure gold: a cult! It started out as A JOKE OF MINE that was used against me. I told a then-good friend that he should come join our little “art cult” in a clearly lighthearted manner, and later he takes this idea I put in his head first and accuses me of being in an (imaginary) cult—the jokes on me eh?. But wait, aren’t cults religious? Our group consists of people around the world of different faiths (or none at all) so how could that ever work? If religion was about making fine (non-pop) art mainstream and bringing awesome, fresh, futuristic concepts to the collective consciousness, the world would not be so fucked up today because talent, creativity, originality and individuality would be the main focus, not superficial poppycock; those things would be praised and encouraged and supported in society by all institutions, not demonized and stigmatized.
Here is one thing I CAN state as solid fact: only one person close to Paul Jaisini knows the TRUE story, or at least some of it: EYKG. Everything else that has ever been said about him is myth, legend, gossip, speculation, the worst of which is said by jealous non-artists (wannabes, clones, posers, hang-ons, unoriginal ppl in general) and anti-artists (religious psychos, squares, losers and -duh- stupid ppl). Sadly, people are unable to see the bigger picture by letting their egos run their lives or repeating after others as parrots.
Commercial art, consumerism, and ignorance of the masses truly makes me want to curl up in a ball, not eat or drink or move until I die, just die in my sleep while dreaming of a better world, a world where real fine artists rule it with real fine art as they used to and life is beautiful once again….
Well I hope that settled THAT for now, or perhaps inadvertently made matters worse. I hope I didn’t sound too pissed from all these issues that keep popping up like penises on ChatRoulette… just got to me already! Can you tell? I had to put my foot down, stomp ‘em all!
To be continued, still lots more ignorance and pettiness to battle… Till then peace out my bambini. MWAH!
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
MANIFESTO GLEITZEIT 2015
PROLOGUE
Paul Jaisini was like a messiah, as you wish, who saw/understood the impending end and complete degeneration of Fine art or Art become and investment nothing more than that. He predicted the bubble pops art when everybody would eventually become an artist, including dogs cats and horses, because they as kids followed the main rule: express yourself without skills or knowledge or any aesthetic concerns. J. Pollack started pouring paints onto canvases; Julian Schnabel, former cab driver from NY, suddenly decided he could do better than what he saw displayed in galleries, so he started gluing dishes on canvases; A.Warhol, an industrial artist who made commercial silk-screen for the factories he worked in, started to exhibit "Campbell's soup" used for commercial adds... and later the thing that made him an "American Idol": by copying and pasting Hollywood celebrities (same type of posters he made before for movie theaters).
When Paul Jaisini stood out against the Me culture in the US by burning all of his own 120 brilliant paintings (according to the then-new director of Fort Worth MoMa Museum, who offered hin an exhibition of his art in 1992, and later the Metropolitan Museum curator, Phillippe de Montebello, in 1994).Paul probably assumed all fellow true fine artists would join him or stand by him against corruption of the art world.
And after 20 years of his stand-off...the time has finally come today. Many artists and humanitarians around the world took a place beside him. His invisible Paintings became a synonym for the future reincarnation of fine art and long lost harmony. The establishment is in panic! The "moneybags" (as Paul Jaisini named them) are in panic, because they invested BILLIONS of dollars in real crap made by craftsmen. Now they realize that the reputation of American legends of expressionism was nothing but a copy of Russian avant-garde" Kazimir Malevich, Vasiliy Kandinsky and tens of others from France and Germany.. US tycoon investors were spending billions on "Me more original, than you". "Artist Shit" is a 1061 artwork by the Italian artist Piero Manzoni. The work consists of 90 tin cans, filled with feces. A tin can was sold for £124,000, 180,000 at Sothebys, 2007.
EPILOGUE
Before I resume promoting and admiring a very important art persona on today's international art arena, I'd like to clear up some BIG questions; people ask continuously and subconsciously, directly & indirectly: "Why does the name Paul Jaisini, flood the Internet in such "obnoxious" quantities that it's started suppressing some other activities that my friends might share with the rest of the Internet's Ego Me only Me www society? I can't just answer this... so I'll try to explain why I'm writing this: Jaisini's followers keep posting art and info about,
He IMHO the only hope in quickly decomposing visual fine art. "Paul Jaisini realized many years ago, in 1994, when he declared (at that time to himself only) the start of a New era, a New vision, that he is trying to redirect from the rat race, started by an establishment in post-war New York, long before the Internet culture.
Sub related information: Adolf Gottlieb, Mart Rothko, etc (after visiting Paris France in 1933):
"We must forget analytical art, we must express ourselves, as a 5 year old child would, without a developed consciousness. Forget about results - do what you feel, EXPRESS yourself with your own unique style"
With this statement Mark Rothko starts to teach his students, degeneration of fine art begins, and the generation of war of styles took a start signal of the material race, greatly rewarded by establishment "individual" - eccentric craftsmen - show business clowns.
Sub related Information: In the summer of 1936, Adolf Gottlieb painted more than 800 paintings, which was 20X more than he created in his whole art career as a painter, starting from the time of Gottlieb becomes a founding member of "The Ten" group in NYC "Group of Ten" was a very peculiar, enigmatic group... Based on a religious point of view;(where a human figure was prohibited from being created)
GLOSSARY
IN 1997, Paul Jaisini's best friend Ellen Y.K.Gottlieb started a cyber campaign by promoting on a very young Internet, back then, Paul Jaisini's burned paintings as Invisible Paintings, visible only through poetic essays. She and a handful of people saw his originals and were devastated that nobody could ever see them again. "We, his fans, believe that someday Paul will recreate his 120 burned paintings if he has any decency and moral obligation to his fans, who have dedicated decades to make it happen, for their Phoenix to rise from the ashes and the whole world will witness that all these years we spent to get him back to re-paint the Visuals again were not in vain," - said E.Y.K.Gottlieb in 2014 during the 20th anniversary celebration of Invisible Paintings to GIGroup in NYCity. So now, hopefully, this clears up why I and others do what we do - our "cyber terrorism" of good art, dedicated to Paul Jaisini's return, which is & and was our mission & our goal. We post good art to fight "troll art" which is worthless pics, after being passed through 1-click filters of free web apps. We are, in fact, against this www pops pollution, done with "bubble art" by the out of control masses with 5 billon pics a day: Pics of cats, memes, quotes,national geographic sunsets and waterfalls, not counting their own daily "selfies: and whatever self-indulging Me-ego-Me affairs, sponsored happily by photo gadget companies like Canon, Nikon, Sony...who churn out higher quality madness tools at lower cost.
This way Government taking away attention from the real world crisis of lowest morality & economical devastation. The masses are too easily re-engineered/manipulated by the Establishment PopsStyle delivered to them by pop music and Hollywood "super" stars. In 1992 Paul Jaisini's Gleitzeit theory predict such a massive, pops self-entertain madness, following technological explosion, but not in illusive scales.
Uber Aless @2015 NYC USA
NOTE Date's numbers and events can be slightly inaccurate.
#gleitzeit #paul-jaisini #invisible #painting #art #futurism #art-news,
Which is more dangerous: your car or a "bomb train"?
Survey says: Your car!
With all the stupid shit and lazy journalism that's been spreading with the recent ethanol or oil train derailments lately, I thought I'd do a lazy safety comparison between trains and cars.
According to the United States Department of Transportation, "For the majority of Americans, driving or being a passenger in a motor vehicle is the most dangerous daily activity he or she will be undertaken."
So the next time you hear someone from someone from NPR lecturing you about how "dangerous" those "bomb trains" rolling through your community are, take comfort in knowing you're much more likely to get killed in a single-vehicle, rollover accident because some asshole deer didn't have the common decency to cross the highway at the fucking deer crossing sign.
I almost forgot the punch line: These types of trains only exist because we need it to fuel our stupid cars...
Children were educated to comply to the strict social rules. Failure to fit into "normalcy" and "decency" could ruin one's life.
“If Trump loses power he’ll spend his last 90 days wrecking the United States like a malicious child with a sledgehammer in a china shop,” said Malcolm Nance, a veteran intelligence analyst and political author. Self-preservation in the face of mounting legal and financial pressures will be paramount, Nance believes, with the president pushing his executive and constitutional powers to the limit or beyond.
As Joe Biden and Kamala Harris win the US election, the American people have disavowed four years of a thuggish presidency. They have chosen decency over dysfunction, fact over fiction, truth over lies, and empathy over cruelty. They have rejected the last four years of ugliness, divisiveness, racism and sustained assaults on constitutional democracy. And even as Trump plots legal challenges and levies unfounded claims of fraud, it is clear America is moving on.
Now, the real work begins.
Removing Trump from the White House is one thing – fixing America is another. Many of the systemic issues that afflict the country will remain in place once he leaves Pennsylvania Avenue.
You will find 200+ of my poems HERE. fno.org/poetry/index.html
Hope
When all is said and done
The votes counted
And the wrong one chosen
As Gloom descends
And Doom surrounds us
Like heavy winter fog
As Despair with her long fingers
Grasps at our throats
We must stand tall
With hope and courage
Taking up the pen
The placard
And the microphone
Speaking of justice for all
Decency
And an America of dreams
Not nightmares
An America of open arms
Love and peace
Land of the free
And home of the brave
© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved
You will find more of my poems and songs here
and in The Storm in Its Passing and Flights of Fancy.
My songs are at
French postcard by Publistar, offered by Corvisart, Epinal, no. 889. Photo: Wiezniak / Philips.
Beautiful French actress Brigitte Bardot (1934) was the sex kitten of the European film industry. BB starred in 48 films, performed in numerous musical shows, and recorded 80 songs. After her retirement in 1973, she established herself as an animal rights activist and made vegetarianism sexy.
Brigitte Bardot was born in Paris in 1934. Her father, Louis Bardot, had an engineering degree and worked with his father in the family business. Her mother, Ann-Marie Mucel, was 14 years younger than Brigitte's father and they married in 1933. Brigitte's mother encouraged her daughter to take up music and dance. At the age of 13, she entered the Conservatoire Nationale de Danse to study ballet. By the time she was 15, Brigitte was trying a modeling career and found herself in May 1949 on the cover of French magazine Elle. Her incredible beauty readily apparent, Brigitte was noticed by Roger Vadim, then an assistant to the film director Marc Allegrét. Vadim was infatuated with Bardot and encouraged her to start working as a film actress. BB was 18 when she debuted in the comedy Le Trou Normand/Crazy for Love (Jean Boyer, 1952). In the same year, she married Vadim. Brigitte wanted to marry him when she was 17, but her parents quashed any marriage plans until she turned 18. In April 1953 she attended the Cannes Film Festival where she received massive media attention. She soon was every man's idea of the girl he'd like to meet in Paris. From 1952 to 1956 she appeared in seventeen films. Her films were generally lightweight romantic dramas in which she was cast as ingénue or siren, often with an element of undress. She made her first US production in 1953 in Un acte d'amour/Act of Love (Anatole Litvak, 1953) with Kirk Douglas, but she continued to make films in France.
Roger Vadim was not content with the light fare his wife was offered. He felt Brigitte Bardot was being undersold. Looking for something more like an art film to push her as a serious actress, he showcased her in Et Dieu créa la femme/...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956). This film, about an immoral teenager in a respectable small-town setting, was a smashing success on both sides of the Atlantic. Craig Butler at AllMovie: "It's easy enough to say that ...And God Created Woman is much more important for its historical significance than for its actual quality as a film, and that's true to an extent. Woman's immense popularity, due to its willingness to directly embrace an exploration of sex as well as its willingness to show a degree of nudity that was remarkably daring for its day, demonstrated that audiences were willing to view subject matter that was considered too racy for the average moviegoer. This had both positive (freedom to explore, especially for the French filmmakers of the time) and negative (freedom to exploit) consequences, but its impact is undeniable. It's also true that Woman is not a great work of art, not with a story that is ultimately rather thin, some painful dialogue, and an attitude toward its characters and their sexuality that is unclear and inconsistent. Yet Woman is still fascinating, due in no small part to the presence of Brigitte Bardot in the role that made her an international star and sex symbol. She's not demonstrating great acting here, although her performance is actually good and much better than necessary, and her legendary mambo scene at the climax is nothing short of sensational." During the shooting of Et Dieu créa la femme/And God Created Woman (1956), directed by her husband Roger Vadim, Brigitte Bardot had an affair with her co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant, who at that time was married to French actress Stéphane Audran. Her divorce from Vadim followed, but they remained friends and collaborated in later work.
Et Dieu créa la femme/...And God Created Woman (Roger Vadim, 1956) helped her international status. The film took the USA by storm, her explosive sexuality being unlike anything seen in the States since the days of the 'flapper' in the 1920s. It gave rise to the phrase 'sex kitten' and fascination of her in America consisted of magazines photographs and dubbed over French films - good, bad, or indifferent, her films drew audiences - mainly men - into theaters like lemmings.BB appeared in light comedies like Doctor at Large (1957) - the third of the British 'Doctor' series starring Dirk Bogarde - and Une Parisienne/La Parisienne (Michel Boisrond, 1957) which suited her acting skills best. However, she was a sensation in the crime drama En cas de malheur/Love is my profession (Claude Autant-Lara, 1958). Hal Erickson at AllMovie: "this Brigitte Bardot vehicle ran into stiff opposition from the Catholic Legion of Decency, severely limiting its U.S. distribution. Bardot plays a nubile small-time thief named Yvette, who becomes the mistress of influential defense attorney Andre (Jean Gabin). Though Andre is able to shower Yvette with jewels and furs, he cannot "buy" her heart, and thus it is that it belongs to handsome young student Mazzetti (Franco Interlenghi). Alas, Yvette is no judge of human nature: attractive though Mazzetti can be, he has a dangerous-and deadly-side. En Cas de Malheur contains a nude scene that has since been reprinted in freeze-frame form innumerable times by both film-history books and girlie magazines." Photographer Sam Lévin's photos contributed considerably to her image of sensuality and slight immorality. One of Lévin's pictures shows Brigitte, dressed in a white corset. It is said that around 1960 postcards with this photograph outsold in Paris those of the Eiffel Tower.
Brigitte Bardot divorced Vadim in 1957 and in 1959 she married actor Jacques Charrier, with whom she starred in Babette s'en va-t-en guerre/Babette Goes to War (Christian-Jaque, 1959). The paparazzi preyed upon her marriage, while she and her husband clashed over the direction of her career. Her films became more substantial, but this brought a heavy pressure of dual celebrity as she sought critical acclaim while remaining a glamour model for most of the world. Vie privée/Private Life (1962), directed by Louis Malle has more than an element of autobiography in it. James Travers at Films de France: "Brigitte Bardot hadn’t quite reached the highpoint of her career when she agreed to make this film with high profile New Wave film director Louis Malle. Even so, the pressure of being a living icon was obviously beginning to get to France’s sex goddess and Vie privée is as much an attempt by Bardot to come to terms with her celebrity as anything else. Malle is clearly fascinated by Bardot and the documentary approach he adopts for this film reinforces the impression that it is more a biography of the actress than a work of fiction. Of course, it’s not entirely biographical, but the story is remarkably close to Bardot’s own life and comes pretty close to predicting how her career would end." The scene in which, returning to her apartment, Bardot's character is harangued in the elevator by a middle-aged cleaning lady calling her offensive names, was based on an actual incident and is a resonant image of celebrity in the mid-20th century. Soon afterward Bardot withdrew to the seclusion of Southern France.
Brigitte Bardot's other husbands were German millionaire playboy Gunter Sachs and right-wing politician Bernard d'Ormale. She is reputed to have had relationships with many other men including Sami Frey, her co-star in La Vérité/The Truth (Henri-Georges Clouzot, 1960), and musicians Serge Gainsbourg and Sacha Distel. In 1963, Brigitte Bardot starred in Godard's critically acclaimed film Le Mépris/Contempt (Jean-Luc Godard, 1963). She was also featured along with such notable actors as Alain Delon in Amours célèbres/Famous Love Affairs (Michel Boisrond, 1961) and Histoires extraordinaires/Tales of Mystery (Louis Malle, 1968), Jeanne Moreau in Viva Maria! (Louis Malle, 1965), Sean Connery in Shalako (Edward Dmytryk, 1968), and Claudia Cardinale in Les Pétroleuses/Petroleum Girls (Christian-Jaque, 1971). She participated in various musical shows and recorded many popular songs in the 1960s and 1970s, mostly in collaboration with Serge Gainsbourg, Bob Zagury and Sacha Distel, including 'Harley Davidson', 'Le Soleil De Ma Vie' (the cover of Stevie Wonder's 'You Are the Sunshine of My Life') and the notorious 'Je t'aime... moi non plus'.
Brigitte Bardot’s film career showed a steady decline in the late 1960s and early 1970s. In 1973 just before her fortieth birthday, she announced her retirement. She chose to use her fame to promote animal rights. In 1976 she established the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the Welfare and Protection of Animals. She became a vegetarian and raised three million French francs to fund the foundation by auctioning off jewelry and many personal belongings. For this work, she was awarded the Légion d’honneur in 1984. During the 1990's she became also outspoken in her criticism of immigration, interracial relationships, Islam in France and homosexuality. Her husband Bernard d'Ormal is a former adviser of the far-right Front National party. Bardot has been convicted five times for 'inciting racial hatred'. More fun is that Bardot is recognised for popularizing bikini swimwear, in early films such as Manina/Woman without a Veil (1952), in her appearances at Cannes and in many photoshoots. Bardot also brought into fashion the choucroute ('Sauerkraut') hairstyle (a sort of beehive hairstyle) and gingham clothes after wearing a checkered pink dress, designed by Jacques Esterel, at her wedding to Charrier. The fashions of the 1960s looked effortlessly right and spontaneous on her. Time Magazine: "She is the princess of pout, the countess of come hither. Brigitte Bardot exuded a carefree, naïve sexuality that brought a whole new audience to French films."
Sources: Denny Jackson (IMDb), Hal Erickson (AllMovie), Craig Butler (AllMovie), James Travers (Films de France), Films de France, Wikipedia, and IMDb.
And, please check out our blog European Film Star Postcards.
This image is copyright, all rights reserved, and not part of the public domain. Any use, linking to, or posting of this image is prohibited without my consent. If you want to use this image in any fashion, please have the common courtesy and decency to ask.
Tilikum Crossing, East Esplanade, Portland, Oregon
Here was what I captured when the rain was the strongest. The result of all that rain coming down caused the atmosphere around the bridge to glow fiercely, as if it was on fire. Since there was little to no wind, the rain fell straight down and the water beneath the bridge remained glossy smooth whereas the rest of the river had a matte look.
I Shrieked The Moment I Saw This ‘40s Relic! - Totally Unexpected - There It Was, Sitting On A Trailer In A Logging/Timber Yard Up Near Sheriff Hutton, Within A Wooded Area In The Picturesque Howardian Hills Of Ryedale, North Yorkshire, U.K. - This Sighting May Not Have Been So Surprising Had This Been Somewhere In The United States Or Canada (Or Even In Scandinavia), But Is Definitely A Rare Sight On The Rural Backroads And In The Backwoods Of (Old) England.
As A Lifelong Enthusiast Of Classic And Vintage American Vehicles, The Random Sighting Of This Nicely-“Patina’d” Old Car Evoked Memories Of Endless Hours Enthusiastically Scrolling The ‘net, Looking For Ads And Photos Of Restorable “Farm Fresh” Barn Finds And Abandoned Or Neglected Classics, As This Vehicle Definitely Looked Like The Sort Of Car I’d View Online After A Quick Google Search Of Typing The Words “Desert Classics”, “Restoration Project Car”, Or “Rat Rod”. I Knew I Had To Immediately Go And Get A Shot Of This! However, If I Recall There Was A Small Chained Border Fence At The Edge Of This Yard (Just Out Of Shot), So - As Tempted As I Was, Owing To My Well-Raised Good Nature And Decency, I Didn’t Want To Intrude Or Trespass On Anyone’s Property (Especially In A World Of Increasing CCTV Surveillance, Etc.), Even If This Was A Definite Photo-Worthy Relic.
The Car Is Of Course, A 1946-’48 Chevrolet 2-Door Coupe.
More Specifically It Is A 1947 Model Year (Judging By The Grille Design). From What I Can Tell, The Car Looks To Have A Rear Seat, Which Would Make This A 5-Passenger (Or A 6-Passenger If You Consider Three People Per Bench Seat) “Sport Coupe”. I Am 99.99% Positive This Is A “Stylemaster” Model, Going By The Fact That The Fleetmaster Model Had Extra Chrome Around The Front Window Screens Whereas The Lower-Priced Stylemaster Had Thin Rubber. The Front Badges Were Essentially The Same.
I Make It To Be A 1947 Chevrolet Stylemaster 2-Door, 5/6-Passenger Sport Coupe, 1500-Series EJ, [1524], Painted In A Corroded State Of “Lullwater Green Polyurethane” (Assuming That The Paint Is As Original As It Looks), One Of 34,513 Examples Produced, Costing $1,059.00 When New. Would’ve Originally Been Powered By A 90-HP, 216.5-Cubic Inch Inline-6-Cylinder Engine.
This Slightly-Cropped Photo Was Taken On September 20th 2015.
I Wonder Where This Car Is Now, And What State Of Repair/Disrepair It Is In?
Edit/Update: I Recently Spoke To The Owners Of This Car - Fortunately It Is Still Around, And Has Received A Lot Of Customization Work - New Sheet Metal Welded-In, Plus New Mechanical Work, Including A New Engine. The Original Patina'd Paint Has Been Preserved.
German postcard by Kolibri-Verlag G.m.b.H., Minden-Westf., no. 2330. Photo: Keystone.
Voluptuous American actress Mamie Van Doren (1931) was a sex symbol of the 1950s and 1960s. Van Doren starred in several exploitation films such as Untamed Youth (1957), loaded with rock 'n' roll and juvenile delinquency. Her onscreen wardrobe usually consisted of tight sweaters, low-cut blouses, form-fitting dresses, and daring swimsuits. Mamie and her colleague blonde bombshells Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield were known as 'The Three M's.'
Mamie Van Doren was born Joan Lucille Olander in Rowena, South Dakota, in 1931. She was the daughter of Warner Carl Olander and Lucille Harriet Bennett. In 1942 the family moved to Los Angeles. In early 1946, Van Doren began working as an usher at the Pantages Theatre in Hollywood. The following year, she had a bit part on an early television show. She also sang with Ted Fio Rito's band and entered several beauty contests. She was married for a brief time at seventeen when Van Doren and her first husband, Jack Newman, eloped to Santa Barbara. The marriage was dissolved quickly, upon her discovery of his abusive nature. In the summer of 1949, at age 18, she won the titles Miss Eight Ball and Miss Palm Springs. Van Doren was discovered by producer Howard Hughes the night she was crowned Miss Palm Springs. The pair dated for five years. Hughes provided her with a bit role in Jet Pilot at RKO Radio Pictures. Her line of dialogue inconsisted of one word, "Look!". The following year, 1951, she posed for famous pin-up girl artist Alberto Vargas, the painter of the glamorous Vargas Girls. His painting of Van Doren was on the July 1951 cover of Esquire magazine. Van Doren did a few more bit parts in RKO films, including His Kind of Woman (John Farrow, 1951) starring Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell. Van Doren then began working on the stage. She was a showgirl in New York in Monte Proser's nightclub version of Billion Dollar Baby. Songwriter Jimmy McHugh discovered her for his musicals, then decided she was too good for the chorus line and should have dramatic training. She studied with Ben Bard and Bliss-Hayden. While appearing in the role of Marie in a showcase production of Come Back, Little Sheba, Van Doren was seen by Phil Benjamin, a casting director at Universal International. In 1953, Van Doren signed a contract with Universal Studios. They had big plans for her, hoping she would bring the same kind of success that 20th Century Fox had with Marilyn Monroe. Van Doren, whose signing day coincided with the inauguration of President Eisenhower, was given the first name Mamie for Ike's wife, Mamie Eisenhower. Universal first cast Van Doren in a minor role as a singer in Forbidden (Rudolph Maté, 1953), starring Tony Curtis. Interested in Van Doren's allure, Universal then cast her again opposite Curtis in The All American (Jesse Hibbs, 1953), playing her first major role as Susie Ward, a wayward girl who is the man-trap at a campus beer joint. In Yankee Pasha (Joseph Pevney, 1954), starring Jeff Chandler and Rhonda Fleming, she played a slave girl, Lilith. In 1955, she had a supporting role in the musical Ain't Misbehavin' (Edward Buzzell, 1955) and starred in the crime-drama, Running Wild (Abner Biberman, 1955). Soon thereafter, Van Doren turned down a Broadway role in the play Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter?, and was replaced by newcomer Jayne Mansfield. In 1956, Van Doren appeared in the Western Star in the Dust (Charles F. Haas, 1956). Though Van Doren garnered prominent billing alongside John Agar and Richard Boone, she appears rather briefly, as the daughter of a ranch owner. By this time, Van Doren had grown tired of Universal, which was only casting her in non-breakthrough roles. Therefore, Van Doren began accepting bigger roles in better movies from other studios, such as Teacher's Pet (George Seaton, 1958) with Doris Day and Clark Gable. She appeared in some of the first movies to feature rock 'n' roll music, such as Untamed Youth (Howard W. Koch, 1957). The film was originally condemned by the Catholic Legion of Decency, but that only served to enhance the curiosity factor, resulting in it being a big moneymaker for the studio. Van Doren became identified with this rebellious style, and made some rock records. She went to star in several bad girl movies that later became cult films. These include Born Reckless (Howard W. Koch, 1958), High School Confidential (Jack Arnold, 1958), and The Beat Generation (Charles F. Haas, 1959). After Universal Studios chose not to renew her contract in 1959, Van Doren was now a free agent and had to struggle to find work.
Mamie Van Doren became known for her provocative roles. She was in prison for Girls Town (Charles F. Haas, 1959), which provoked censors with a shower scene where audiences could see Van Doren's naked back. As Eve in The Private Lives of Adam and Eve (Mickey Rooney, Albert Zugsmith, 1960) she wore only fig leaves, and in other films, like Vice Raid (Edward L. Cahn, 1960) audiences were clued in as to the nature of the films from the titles. Many of these productions were low-budget B-movies which sometimes gained a cult following for their high camp value. An example is Sex Kittens Go to College (Albert Zugsmith, 1960), which co-starred Tuesday Weld and Mijanou Bardot - Brigitte's sister. Mamie also appeared in foreign productions, such as the Italian crime comedy Le bellissime gambe di Sabrina/The Beautiful Legs of Sabrina (Camillo Mastrocinque, 1959) with Antonio Cifariello, and the Argentine film Una americana en Buenos Aires/The Blonde from Buenos Aires (George Cahan, 1961) with Jean-Pierre Aumont. Van Doren took some time off from her career and came back to the screen in 1964. That year she played in the German Western musical Freddy und das Lied der Prärie/In the Wild West (Sobey Martin, 1964), starring Freddy Quinn and Rik Battaglia. Tommy Noonan convinced Van Doren to appear in 3 Nuts in Search of a Bolt (Tommy Noonan, 1964). Van Doren had turned down Noonan's previous offer to star in Promises! Promises!, in which she would have to do nude scenes. She was replaced by Jayne Mansfield. In 3 Nuts in Search of a Bolt, Mamie did a beer-bath scene, but is not seen nude. She posed for Playboy to promote the film. Van Doren next appeared in The Las Vegas Hillbillys (Arthur C. Pierce, 1966) which co-starred Jayne Mansfield. It was the only time two of 'The Three M's' appeared together in a film. A sequel was titled Hillbillys in a Haunted House, but Van Doren turned this role down, and was replaced by Joi Lansing. She appeared in You've Got to Be Smart (Ellis Kadison, 1967), and the sci-fi film, Voyage to the Planet of Prehistoric Women (1968), directed by the young Peter Bogdanovich (as Derek Thomas). In this film astronauts land on Venus and encounter dangerous creatures and meet sexy Venusian women who like to sun-bathe in hip-hugging skin-tight pants and seashell brassieres. In 1968, she was offered the role of a murder victim in the independent horror film The Ice House as a replacement for Mansfield, who died the previous year. She turned the offer down, however, and was replaced by Sabrina. During the Vietnam War, she did tours for U.S. troops in Vietnam for three months in 1968, and again in 1970. Van Doren also developed a nightclub act and did live theater. She performed in stage productions of Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and Dames at Sea at the Drury Lane Theater, Chicago, and appeared in Will Success Spoil Rock Hunter? and The Tender Trap at the Arlington Park Theater. In the 1970s, Van Doren performed a nightclub act in Las Vegas as well. Van Doren had a supporting role in the Western The Arizona Kid (Luciano B. Carlos, 1970). Since then, Van Doren has appeared only in cameo appearances in low-budgeted films. To this date Van Doren's last film appearance was a cameo role in the comedy Slackers (Dewey Nicks, 2002). Van Doren's guest appearances on television include Jukebox Jury, What's My Line, The Bob Cummings Show, The Jack Benny Show, Fantasy Island, Burke's Law, Vega$, and L.A. Law. Van Doren released her autobiography, Playing the Field, in 1987 which brought much new attention and proved to be her biggest media splash in over 25 years. Since the book's publication she has often been interviewed and profiled and has occasionally returned to acting. Van Doren has been married five times. Her first marriage was to sportswear manufacturer Jack Newman whom she married and divorced in 1950. Her second marriage was to bandleader, composer and actor Ray Anthony whom she married in 1955. They had one son, Perry Ray Anthony (1956). The couple later divorced in 1961. When Van Doren's early 1960s, highly publicized, on-again off-again engagement to baseball player Bo Belinsky ended in 1964, she married baseball player Lee Meyers in 1966. They were divorced in 1967. Her fourth marriage was to businessman Ross McClintock in 1972. They met while working on President Nixon's reelection campaign; the marriage was annulled in 1973. Since 1979 she has been married to Thomas Dixon, an actor and dentist.
Sources: Wikipedia and IMDb.
I apologize if anyone could be offended or disgusted with this picture. But the message I want to convey is more important than decency.
Mi scuso con quanti possano sentirsi offesi o disgustati da questa immagine. Ma credo che ben altro possa essere il disgusto per le realtà che stiamo vivendo ai nostri giorni
Qui la miseria umana,
quella che affama gli amori,
sempre si ritrova
in luoghi disperati
che si nascondono alla vista
ma preziosi più di tanti
ritrovi illuminati.
La decenza non vuole,
ma l'occhio vede tutto
e indaga e pesa
e mi domanda
se fissarne il degrado
debba considerarsi sfregio
alla storia, alle sue vane glorie,
al comune sentire,
dato che l' indecenza, quella vera,
con le sue maschere bugiarde
e disgustose
ben altre,
più profumate stanze di palazzo
sempre frequenta
furtiva e indisturbata.
This year I've got two daughters going to high school.
Being a single dad without a lot of freetime and little patience for paperwork it's something that I dread every year.
So for the last three months, my daughter who's going to be a freshman just kept all over me to get registered because she was so excited.
I can understand that.
So I went to get her registered and it turns out that I didn't have all the right paperwork to do it.
It was proving the fact that indeed I was a resident at the address that I claimed to live at that was holding things up.
It didn't matter that I had a valid drivers license and passport and utility bills in my name... originals... not copies... vehicle registration and insurance, that I'd lived in the very same house since 1972 and attended that same school while I did and I had a picture of me on the front porch at three years old with the address clearly visible...
it didn't matter that I was the Senior Class President there...
or that my kids have attended school in the district every year for the past ten years.
I didn't have the most recent original property tax bill or mortgage statement... one of which was required.
I could not prove I was a resident and that meant that I couldn't sign my kid up for school.
I had just about enough of that action and I told them so when they said my kid couldn't be signed up for classes.
'I don't have either one of those documents' I said 'and I'm not going to give them to you... now or next year... I'm sick of being treated like this... if you want that stuff why don't you have your attorney subpoena it and give me my kid's schedule and let her register... the kid has a right to an education by law even if her father has his head up his ass on this paperwork stuff... I don't want to do this anymore... if I was an undocumented immigrant I wouldn't have to give you diddly but since I live here I gotta do this every year and I've had it... I don't need this much documentation to get a freakin' passport!'
'You're going to have to talk to the Principal sir.'
And I did.
Well... the Assistant Principal.
At first we squared off about this stuff and it was obvious neither of us would yield.
'Let's take a walk' she said and we left the registration station.
She took me to a computer and we did some stuff on it and made a little small talk.
I knew her or the school employees didn't make these rules and I wasn't blamin' 'em for it either.
I was frustrated.
She mentioned something about needing a beer and I agreed.
It seemed we had everything worked out.
We had come to a little 'understanding' on the matter.
I couldn't resist one more crack as I entered my billing address into the computer to pay the five hundred dollars in fees for both of my daughters and I said 'here's the fraudulent address I signed up for a long time ago to get my kids into this school.'
The Assistant Principal did one of those combination laugh-sighs and told my daughter 'your dad's not the kind of guy to let things go too easily is he?'
She also made my daughter make an appointment with her on July 1st 2014 so that she could teach my daughter to do all of this stuff... which was absolutely cool with me.
'There's only one more thing keeping me from allowing your child to be registered' she said 'her physical form says that she need the whooping cough booster vaccine.'
I was ready for that one and I pulled out a blue sheet of paper folded into quarters on which I'd written 'I Mr. View Minder claim a religious exemption from having my child vaccinated.'
She held in the laugh that time and said 'ah... we're good to go.'
After the computer VERIFIED MY BILLING ADDRESS on my credit card and took the five hundred bucks from me the kid could now see her schedule.
'Dad they put me in Latin' my daughter cried out as if a bucket of acid had just been poured on her.
Now I laughed.
'That's what they do to you when your dad comes in like this and makes a scene about all of these documents they need to prove that we live in our house' I informed her.
Even the Assistant Principal chuckled at that one.
I got a cold stare from my daughter in return.
In the end it was all cool and the Assistant Principal even admitted that they had to address a few of the issues I brought up.
I pay everything online.
I don't get receipts.
I don't write checks.
And computer printouts of that stuff aren't acceptable.
"The laws of Illinois and the United States guarantee all students in Illinois access to a quality education." ~ www.isbe.state.il.us/bilingual/htmls/imfaqs.html
It doesn't say 'except kids whose dad can't get his paperwork in order.'
"Existing law guarantees immigrant and non-English speaking students a free public education from kindergarten through grade twelve up until the age of twenty-one regardless of immigrant status. Additionally, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that undocumented children have the same right as U.S. citizens and permanent residents to receive a free public education." ~ www.isbe.state.il.us/bilingual/htmls/imfaqs.html
If I were an undocumented immigrant or an illegal alien I wouldn't have had to produce a drivers license or any document that might have had my social security number on it.
But since I'm a natural born citizen they get to throw me through the ringer.
I guess I'm calling bullshit on that right now.
"The U.S. Supreme Court ruled that undocumented children have the same right as U.S. citizens and permanent residents to receive a free public education." ~ www.isbe.state.il.us/bilingual/htmls/imfaqs.html
If that's the case why do I have to go through all of this shit to prove residency?
Why do the 'undocumented' have their rights spelled out by the US Supreme Court but I gotta have a shitload of 'documentation' to get my kid enrolled in school?
Wasn't that the whole issue... I was kinda 'undocumented' without my tax bill?
It is my opinion that I'm being discriminated against as a natural born citizen of the United States.
This country was built on the backs of immigrants.
Legal or otherwise.
But when they are treated with more decency than citizens something's wrong.
They get the 'kid gloves' and I get treated like the criminal.
Just a few days ago in Chicago a group of illegal aliens had a protest... demanding free organ transplants.
I swear to gahd.
www.bizpacreview.com/2013/08/07/protesters-demand-free-or...
Listen... my point here is not to bitch about illegal aliens... the vast majority of them are hardworking decent people who want a better life for their family.
I can relate to that.
But when my own government treats them with more respect than they treat me and my fellow citizens...
something's wrong.
Something's really wrong here.
I was out on the bike one sunset, and I took this photo because I liked the ethereal effect of the sunlight on the grass. I don't remember that drop of molten lava though...what is it?
It`s only the first day of April, but already, things are not going well! The promise of a clear sunny morning turned out to be not entirely true, but I thought it was worth the short journey to Daventry to see what was on the D2. Sadly, I was greeted with Enviro scum of the most boring order, this being 15445 (MX08 GHJ). The offending transport didn`t even have the decency to display the route for me either! It is seen here on Admirials Way. Daventry.
At least I managed a shot. Despite being a boring Enviro, I did try some other shots which have now come on since the clock changes, but if it could go wrong, it did, the biggest kick in the face being bowled by a car wanting to turn right to the council offices, getting right in the way of the bus, which is exactly what happened to me yesterday!
1st April 2016
You will find 190+ of my poems HERE. fno.org/poetry/index.html
No news is good news
The news
Such as it is
Lately
Offends
Alarms
And provokes me
Until I want to look away
Blind myself to the barbaric slayings
The killings
The murders
The hate crimes
The wars
The storms
The wildfires
And the political mayhem
That is the norm of the day
I want to pretend
None of this is real
And substitute my own version of reality
A life without Putin
And the slaughter of innocents
A world without Trump
And his cascade of lies and falsehoods
A time without mass murders
Shooters cutting down families
School children
And concert goers
A peaceful, gentle life
We can only imagine
With kindness, civility and decency
The norm
Not the exception
© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved
You will find more of my poems and songs here
and in The Storm in Its Passing and Flights of Fancy.
My songs are at
Some of you will already be aware of what I am about to write. For others it will come as a complete shock.
I have been wondering for some time how I can even write these words.
My wonderful husband John Charles Dyer who I met on Flickr and who I went to Florida to be with in 2010 and married in 2011 was diagnosed with an inoperable, aggressive brain tumour in July of this year.
In August he underwent a short course of radiotherapy to regress the tumour. Since then he has been at our home here in Lytham St Annes and enjoying his very English adventure.
Until very recently that included trips to Costa for his fix of coffee and to Zest for their delicious lunches as well as taking in the local scenery here on the Fylde coast. He also enjoyed visits in September from his son Ed Dyer and daughter Jessica Dyer.
He continues to be comfortable and happy. It is my intention to nurse him at home with support from the local Hospice for as long as I am able.
Meanwhile I would ask you all to hold him and his family back in the US in your thoughts and prayers.
The universe in her goodness brought us together and gave us the gift of deep and abiding love and happiness. I am thankful for the time we have shared up 'til now and look forward to the sweetest of memories in the future.
We never know what we are destined for when we set out on this great adventure of life, but I do know that throughout his life my husband always lived up to the highest standards of decency and hard work. He has always loved and cared deeply for his children, his grandchildren, his friends and for me and I know he will continue to do so until his very last breath.
(Scott Wesley Brown)
Who would of thought that long ago
So very far away,
A little child would be born
And in a manger laid?
And who would have thought this little child
Was born the King of kings,
The Son of just a carpenter
For whom the angels sing?
And who would have thought that as He grew
And with other children played
This child with whom they laughed and sang
Would die for them some day
And who would have thought this little child
Could make a blind man see,
Feed the hungry, make rich the poor
And set the sinner free?
Oh who would have thought this little child
Was who the prophets said?
Would take away the sins of man
And rise up from the dead!
[Chorus]
And I believe! And I will always sing,
"This little child is the King!"
Oh, I believe. And, I will always sing,
"This little child
He is the King of kings!"
Verse 2
Many years have come and gone
Yet this world remains the same.
Empires have been built and fallen
Only time has made a change.
Nation against nation.
Brother against brother.
Men so filled with hatred
Killing one another.
And over half the world is starving
While a banner of decency is torn.
Debating over disarmament.
Killing children before they're born.
And fools who march to win the right
To justify their sin.
Oh every nation that has fallen
Has fallen from within!
Yet in the midst of this darkness,
There is a hope, a light that burns.
This little child -the King of kings-
Some day will return!
[Chorus]
And I believe! And I will always sing,
"This little child is the King!"
Oh, I believe. And, I will always sing,
"This little child
He is the King of kings!"
Verse 3
Who would have tho't this little child
Is who the prophets said
Will return to judge this world
The living and the dead
Oh can't you see that long ago
So very far away
This little child our only hope
Was born a King that day
And can't you see that here and now
As unto Him we pray
This Lord of lords who is our hope
Is still King today
He's still the King today
Esta é uma antiga canção de Natal que tem uma letra muito profunda, estou sem tempo para traduzir, mas se alguem tiver essa facilidade, para ouvir a canção na voz do compositor é só clicar na letra.
Foto: Enfeite de Natal - Arvore da Marcia Abreu