View allAll Photos Tagged him
and 'A Vanishing Breed' called “Bede”
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The Chinese Lunar Calendar is set up in a ‘12-year cycle’ and each year is associated with an animal. According to the legend, Lord Buddha summoned the animals to him before he departed the earth. Only 12 came to bid him farewell and so he named each year after each animal as a reward.
According to the Chinese Zodiac, the Year of 2013 is the Year of the Snake, which begins on February 10, 2013 and ends on January 30, 2014. Ancient Chinese wisdom says, a Snake in the house is a good omen because it means that your family will not starve.
2013 is the Year of Water Snake. People born in the Year of the Snake are reputed to be thoughtful and wise and to approach problems rationally and logically, seldom instinctively.
Through this upload I would like to wish my Chinese Friends from all over the world ....
Happiness, health, prosperity, longevity and may all your wishes come true. Happy New “SNAKE” Year....!!!
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NOW. . . lets come to my Part of the World;
as a Snake and Animal lover I am Thrilled to be a part of this Snake Year. Since 2013 is the year of “Water Snake” that brings back memories which is associated with the water snakes of Bangladesh. Let’s go back 20 years, at that time I was totally devoted to wild life photography and particularly of Snakes.
Whenever I went out for a field trip or a photography trip out of the city, I frequently used to catch one particular species of snake which is called “Dhoora Saap” (local name) or Asiatic Water Snake / Checkered Keel Back (Xenochrophis piscator). Probably this is the most distributed ‘Colubridae’ in Bangladesh. It’s a non-venomous water snake from the plains, abundant in waterways, such as flooded rice fields, ponds, lakes, marshes and rivers.
This species was so common that even in the capital city, they were very...very easy to find.
So, what is their Status in 2013 ?
In short, simply Alarming ! Their numbers has dramatically declined.
In Rural areas, I have to look hard to find one, even during and after the Monsoon Rains when they are supposed to be plentiful. In the city lakes and waterways... probably less than 10% of the previous population surviving.
The photograph above is NOT at all about the most common Snake of Bangladesh or how their number has declined during the last two Decades. It’s about the “PEOPLE” who are directly associated with the most Feared and Misunderstood species called “Snakes”.
I always believe ... “ if I want to Save the Elephants, first I need to Save the People whose lives are directly involved with the Elephants”.
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let's meet. . . “Jyotsna” ( meaning Moonlight) . . . !!!
She represents “A Vanishing Breed” called “Bede” the Snake Charmers from Bangladesh.
They are also known as River Gypsies as they live in Boats. Bede’s themselves are convinced that their community has Arabic roots and that the name “Bede” was derived from the Arabic word “Bedouin”.
Currently Bangladesh has an estimated 500,000 snake charmers. Most snake charmers are Nomads, the word nomad comes from a Greek word that means one who wanders for pasture. Rivers are the Life for Bedes. For hundreds of years, they have wandered along rivers and intricate waterways by charming Snakes, selling Herbal Medicines, trinkets, performing Magic and Healing People.
In the 1980s and even the early 90s snake charmers used to be a common sight in the city streets and their colony of Boats can be found in the rural areas of Bangladesh. People used to call them and they played with their snakes while householders, especially the children looked on with a mixture of fear and expectations.
Today, the Snake charmers are struggling for their very survival. They are facing increasing difficulties throughout the country because their profession is in decline. Earlier, they earned around 500 taka ($6.25 ) now maybe 50 -100 taka ($0.63-1.25) - a day.
“People in the cities today no longer seem so interested to watch us entice the snakes or to buy herbal medicines from us. They lead a busy life and don't have the time or the inclination to watch performing Cobras" - said Hashim an elderly snake charmer, who was quoted recently in a Bangladeshi newspaper.
In rural areas, snake charmers can still attract some small crowds, but that is mostly during festivals which are not held on a regular basis.
There are several reasons put forward to explain the decline of the profession. In the past, people would be mesmerized by a dancing snake and the eerie sound of the flute. But today people in bigger cities and even in the villages... are pressed for time and provided with alternative forms of entertainment - regard snake charmers almost as an “Irritation”.
Another reason is the fact that snakes themselves are harder to find due to a Combination of Deforestation and Urbanization.
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On February 6th 2013, I read an article from BBC News which was about a 'snake village' called ‘Zisiqiao’ located in China.
It is a sleepy village with a deadly secret. A couple of decades ago, locals in Zisiqiao made a living from farming and fishing. But now they rear snakes - among them pythons, vipers and cobras. The snakes are reared for their meat, which is sold to restaurants, and their body parts, which are highly sought after in traditional Chinese medicine.
With the rising demand for snakes, the once poor village of Zisiqiao is now relatively wealthy, with many residents boasting revenue of tens of thousands of dollars.
"Domesticating snakes takes experience and technique," says Mr Yang, who says his Snake business is now a multi-million dollar enterprise.
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“Everything is in relation to Everything else” the sooner We realize this fact and involve ourselves to Protect and to Preserve the “Relativity” - the Better for Us.
Text and Photography by S Arman S.
8th February 2013.
© All rights reserved.
No part of this article may be reproduced in any form or by any means, without permission of the author.
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THE DISCOVERY by gleitzeit blog (the lost Interview in Rome)
I am using magnifying glass to be able to read a a PDF file of a very low quality.
My eyes are hurting. What I have found is something that is just not available…
I must say on the search for anything tagged “invisible” I find some pretty amazing
stuff I would never know about (later on that)
Paul meet me at the gate. He looked younger than I had expected. Dressed
casually.
As a host he cordially offered me to dine. While we entered the hall I had an urge to ask him, is this a museum? trying not to break anything as we passed by sculptures, paintings,
ceramics and a lot of other pieces of art which I had never seen before.
This unexpected excitement spoiled my appetite, and I was no longer hungry and
instead drank some wine.
He made clear that it is not any kind of a museum, but instead, his Paul’s studio. He lives not in Rome, but by the Terranian sea, where he was going shortly.
I asked Paul how he earns a living. Paul thought a little and tried to find an appropriate explanation. He finally lit on: "I am of independent means and don’t have to earn a living" pouring me another glass of wine.
I asked him: “ Can I buy some of your paintings? How much it will cost me?”
This question Paul left unanswered but he said that commonly he paints his
pictures without the intention to sell them.
Earlier I noticed a little girl and a young woman moving about him.
OMG!!!! I am shaken up. NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING ABOUT Paul Jaisini’s personal life! I don’t believe this. THANK YOU GOOGLE! this is like really mystifying. I am not an emotional person, rather someone who loves to work hard and get the job done. This turned into something other than working.
Google nowadays is not your “grandfather’s” google so to speak. It is tailored
around you, your daily Internet activity, So finding any news, any special
information is no longer an easy task. I guess because there’s too much of
everything and what one is looking for could be placed out of reach. So we sort
of live on a planet that is flat as in dark ages. I say that because if one is
provided the info that is tailored with limitation it implies that breaking
away is not something one would even comprehend! We are too used to trust our social functioning and think that we know everything, on top of all news provided to us by the honest practice of the broadcasting companies.
We don’t want to be those conspiracy freaks with no trust to anything or
anyone. But truth is, if you don’t want to pay high dollar for some expert
articles on the topics that could give more than the free info, you are really
up against a brick wall of the new unknown reality and a total incapacity to acquire
the needed info of high quality without spending your whole life learning all the crap on the net and beyond in order to find finally what you need.
So search is a tricky mother. If you are creative and sort of spontaneous you
might somehow find your own style of fishing out the essentials. But in my case I
often felt helpless and lost no longer willing to participate in this
undertaking trying to document Gleitzeit.
It doesn’t look like I had managed a short explanation. But this is my formula of
finding something that is not available on the tailored to fit google search.
I enter the variations of phrases and words from the gleitzeit context of emails, postings, essays and add some other words I find on my way of locating Paul Jaisini's links. Turning the tag in a sort of a potion number nine that had proven to fetch some impossible to find info on such a quick inquiry without opening thousands of websites where I might find or might not find anything at all. And the most effective findings are with the tag "invisible" added to other things, be it email abbreviations and so on.
“The other must be his wife”, I thought, because Paul called her with some pet name's asking for a bottle of wine, for a book, or an ash tray.
“Is she your wife? “ I asked just in case.
Paul looked me in the eyes and said: “She is not my wife, nor the mother of my daughter, she is my secretary. “
The secretary I sensed didn’t like me much.
She didn’t call Jaisini by his name, Paul, but she instead addressed him as
mister Jaisini. She seemed obsequious and perhaps didn’t like me for my unrestrained manner and direct questions. She said to Paul: “You should not waste your time on this interview. You need to return to your work. “
Paul said: “It will be few minutes." and spent a few hours with me. A self-ruling man.
Paul didn’t drink any wine but he behaved at times extravagantly, showing the
outlines of the silhouettes in his paintings and explaining what was happening in the pictures.
Paul said that the point of his art being hidden from the public is an
intrigue that engages press in constant attempts to uncover the ‘truth’ behind it all. Nevertheless it is very disappointing, that people don’t care about real art, as they do about private affairs.
We went upstairs and in a spacious hall I saw a large painting. I didn’t hide my
awe.
“Wow! Where did you get such a big piece of canvas? The art stores don’t sell
this linen in such sizes. “
“It is stitched together from pieces," answered Paul.
“How did you reach the upper parts of the painting"
"I climbed the riser. Do you see the nude black man up there, tangled with a
serpent?"
"It reminds me of Laocoön. Is it intentional?"
"No, he is a symbol of physical grace without intellect. Do you see a group of
female bodies intertwined in a threesome?"
"No, I don’t see it. Where is the threesome?"
"To the left, look there."
"I look there."
"There the three figures, here is one, here is another one and the third one."
"Third is not a female figure, it’s some animal."
"It’s a female, but there is an animal, a bit higher up. The clown in the center
tears his mouth in a bloody smile, carrying out his role of a fool, laughing when
he wants to cry."
"Is that a monkey?"
"You got it, she is another symbol of the fate, she stopped hitting the tom-tom,
her direct purpose in circus. When she stopped to play and started to think, she
realized that her life is pitiful and she wants to kill herself. It’s a second
symbol of the same meaning."
"Tell me about that threesome again."
"Well, they show the natural grace, as three graces would, the sensual concept of
procreation."
"This picture must be a depiction of a circus performance, I suppose. Is it ?
Why it is so dynamic?"
"It is a circus performance but is the personal trial of human character. The ball construction is an object: - Paulsen’s ball, it is also a title of the painting."
"This ball creates some weight and it seems to move the composition with it’s
size and position and it seems to be on a verge of rolling down."
"You’re right! I also sense this immediate impulse to prevent the clown to fall
off that ball.
We went to other paintings, whole series of paintings.
When I gathered all my sensations about the art that surrounded me, it was time to leave. Paul Jaisini escorted me to the door. I shook his hand saying:
"You are an interesting man!"
"I am not a man..."
(the last sentence was a good ending)
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolism
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Symbolism_(arts)
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invisibility
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fatalism
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gracefulness
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impossible_object
Have to type as I read PDF file that can’t be copied
Have to type as I read PDF file that can’t be copied
I am using magnifying glass to be able to read a a PDF file of very low quality. My eyes are hurting. What I have found is something that is just not available… I must say on the search for anything tagged “invisible” I find some pretty amazing stuff I would never know about (later on that) Now I am sitting in my office instead of having night out. It really is an impossible task to just discern the text. I filled up a spray bottle with cold water to spray my face to frequently refresh my eyes, as they get tired from the magnifying glass. It’s totally worth it, the thrill of discovery is my ultimate high.
Subj: Re: any suggestions?
Date: 2/5/00 Pacific Standard Time
From: bcwoodward@bigfoot.com (B. Woodward)
To: Yustas61@aol.com
CC: Angela Ahermeign
The attached file with original text before translation can be used in all related your project on Paul Jaisini.
All my corrections are in () and sometimes they replace the words nearby, other times they get inserted or have comments as well. It should be clear. Angela, you had some trouble with colloquialisms, unclear constructions and misplaced verb tenses. You switched among various forms of the past with irregularity. I’ve brushed it up. It makes a good narrative, though. Very interesting :)
Original Message-
From Angela A, Sent Thursday, February 03, 2000, 4: 25 PM
to bcwoodward@bigfoot.com
Subject Any suggestions
My first meeting with Paul Jaisini in Rome
(was it your first meeting with him, or just first time in Rome… unclear construction)
Paul Jaisini’s appearance at the exhibition of his art made a lot of noise in 1995 in Rome.
(caused a lot of noise, a lot of excitement, or was it just a noisy appearance?)
After newspapers published the (a) photograph of Paul Jaisini in the empty gallery, I read the article and realized how lucky I was to be in Rome. Nobody saw Paul Jaisini’s paintings. Yes, nobody… This what happened next. I called him once, then (a) second time. (,b)But Paul didn’t return my calls. Unfortunately I was not able to stay on guards (stand guard is the appropriate colloquialism) to catch him by the art gallery being (as I was) preoccupied with my (own) business. So I decided that I have (needed, not have) to find a way to see Paul Jaisini’s (hidden) paintings if he hides them. Such extravagance has (had) to be stopped.
I decided to offer him (no him here) to write a testament about (to) the existence of his art (, which would necessarily lead to him revealing it to me.) which will rise the necessity to see it.
I heard about Paul Jaisini before (that time) because he is quite a (reverse the a and quite) well-known contemporary artist. When I set up the appointment to meet (him) I easily found his cozy two- story town-house surrounded by (an) antique iron fence.
When I called (on) the intercom it took a while to explain who I was and why (I had come) did I come.
Paul meet me at the gate. He looked younger than I (had) expected. Dressed casually.
As a host he cordially offered me to dine. While we were entering (entered) the hall I had an urge to ask him, (“I) is it (this) a museum (?), trying to brake (break) anything, (no comma… as we passed) passing by sculptures, paintings, ceramic pieces (ceramics… drop the p word) and a lot of (other pieces of) art which I (had never seen before. drop rest of the sentence) was not able…
Gosh, I can feel how B. Woodward was feeling… WILL SHE REALLY SEE THE PAINTINGS by PAUL JAISINI?????? my eyes are punishing me for this thrill. I need to stop looking into the magnifier when I am now writing a comment without looking into unreadable copy.
Just waiting to get the courage to continue… my eyes need rest, I made myself some coffee with soy milk. But it surely means I want to prolong the suspense. I have no idea what is written in that text I located only god knows where or how.
I think that a gamer guru would understand me after he/she played hardest strategic games for a very long time and turned into a savvy thrill seeker.
medium.com/art-submissions/don-t-bother-901454f687cd The time has come to start making sense of things, of the world, of each other. We think we’re doing that, but we’re actually doing the opposite. We are complicating…EVERYTHING…tothe point of utter madness. Our world has become one ginormous madhouse, ESPECIALLY cyberspace — this alternate world we created within our world that seems to have created a world within itself — yet to be identified, recognized, and named. Making sense of things is not a bad thing. For example, let’s start with one major web enigma: Paul Jaisini and “Gleitzeit” which is this, uh, odd art movement the guy started in the 90s. If you simply google either of those names, I gaurantee you a good WTF moment or two. You’ll not just be scratching your head over this one. You’ll be scratching every part of your body like a delusional nutcase who thinks your skin is literally crawling with countless bugs. IT’S GONNA BUG THE HELL OUT OF YOU, let’s just say…maybe for a day or a week…or maybe, as for some folks, long after you’ve discovered it. You’ll be itching to understand what it’s about even just a little bit. Your mind will try to make sense of Paul Jaisini and/or Gleitzeit, it will want to, but will fail miserably. Frustration and anger will start setting in. I know because that’s how it was for me and every person that tried. The deeper you dig, the more you try to figure it out, the more confused, overwhelmed, baffled, and perplexed you’ll get. I guess for the people that attempt to understand the Paul Jaisini and Gleitzeit thing or debunk it, my advice is: DON’T EVEN TRY. DON’T GO THERE. IT’S NOT FOR YOU. The sleepless nights, the uncertainty, the questions and ideas that start invading your head, the horror of “waking up” from normality and regularity, the trauma of moving from one dimension to another… is not worth it. Well, for me it was worth it, but not for others. They claim it’s crazy and even dangerous for the mind, Paul Jaisini’s Gleitzeit. Well, sure, I mean you gotta break some eggs to make an omelette, dontchya? So, Gleitzeit is the omelette and all parties involved in GIG (Gleitzeit International Group) are the eggs. Makes sense. Speaking of which, “they” don’t want it to make sense, not even close. As a member of the group, I’m breaking protocol BIG TIME by writing this, by encouraging that you go out there, look this stuff up and figure it out, take away its shield of senselessness and defeat it… for the sake of a better world and future for us all. I hope someone out there hears me….one way or another, it had to be said…. Stelly Riesling
VILLE VALO from HIM (2nd Prototipe)
Custom Taeyang by Sheryl Designs to Karlfromleads
MODIFICATIONS:
Complette Make Up
Replaced acrylic eyes
©2007-2010 Sheryl Designs Eyemech Modification
He stood up tall on his back legs a few times while i photographed him today. This was the only shot i got with him in focus whilst being defensive.
YOUTUBE MOC SHOWCASE:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=uO8-ADenB4Q&lc=UgxZUsNcp0jejx...
After I uploaded my creation for chapter 1 of the book of Boba Fett last week I proudly present to you my newest MOC, this time a scene from chapter 2.
ATTENTION!!! SPOILER ALERT!!!
[...]
Fett and his entourage visit Garsa's Sanctuary, which is full of droids and patrons. Taking off his helmet, Fett meets with Garsa, who offers him a table. Fett explains that Mayor Mok Shaiz sent him here on the pretext that there is something that he should know. When Garsa gives a nervous look, Fett remarks that she is sweating like a gumpta on Mustafar. Garsa explains that "the Twins" have laid claim to their late cousin Jabba's bequest. Fett replies that he heard the Twins were preoccupied with Nal Hutta to bother with Tatooine.
The cantina grows silent as they hear drums beating in the background. Fett, Shand, and the Gamorreans walk outside to see a procession carrying two Hutts on a litter. As the litter approaches Fett's entourage, the Hutt brother tells Fett that they have business to discuss. Fett replies that this is his territory, prompting the Hutt brother to reiterate that this is Jabba's territory and now theirs. One of the drummers presents a tablet stating the Hutts' claim to Tatooine.
Fett rejects their claim, stating that he is the Daimyo of Mos Espa. The Hutts laugh, with the brother asking if this is so. An armed black Wookiee known as Black Krrsantan, who is armed with a heavy blaster, approaches Fett and his entourage. Fett is not intimidated, stating that these are not the death pits of Duur, and that he is not a sleeping Trandoshan guard. Fett replies that Mos Espa is his territory and tells them to go back to Nal Hutta. The Hutt sister speaks in Huttese. Her brother replies that Fett has upset his sister and that he is more patient than her, who wants to kill him.
As Shand and Krrsantan load their weapons, Fett explains that Jabba is gone and that his former majordomo Bib Fortuna usurped his territory. Since Fett killed him, all that belonged to Fortuna now belongs to him. Fett says that they will have to kill him for it. The two Hutt siblings speak. The Hutt brother says that bloodshed is bad for business and that this matter can be dealt with later, though he warns Fett to sleep lightly.
As the drummers beat their drums, the two Hutts withdraw. Black Krrsantan growls at Fett before walking away as well. Shand tells Fett that they will have to get permission to kill them since they are Hutts. Fett suggests that the matter is settled but accepts that it is not yet over. [...]
My creation shows the arrival of Jabba's cousins in the streets of Mos Espa. For the cousins I bought a second version of the Jabba minifigure (the one with the gray face to have a little difference between them).
Hopefully you enjoy the second chapter of the disney + series like I did and I hope you enjoy that creation too.
Greetings Kevin
He is desperate to be all grown up, being a kitten to him has so many disadvantages. It is funny to watch him want to do everything Critter and Slinky does and he try's his hardest to keep up and do the same.
3 in comments
Met him in the park today. Funny sense of humour. Great fun to talk with.
Original File: john_3103.PSD
He didn't see me and I surprised him when I took this picture. He's still a little wet after swimming.
Extract from 'A Day on the Road' article from the Commercial Motor Magazine October 21st 1909.
A Motor-transport Contractor's Leyland Steam Wagon on Greasy Stone Setts in Lancashire.
Recounted by a Member of the Editorial Staff.
" It is twenty minutes past three, Sir!" announced the night porter, at the Park Hotel, Preston, one recent Monday morning, after he had already alarmed me by vigorously knocking on the door of my bedroom. I conveyed to him, with as much grace as I could muster at that early hour, an intimation that I was no longer asleep, and that there was no need to awaken
every other visitor in the hotel. I had arrived at Preston not more than four hours previously, after a most tiresome journey, by train and taxicab, from York, and, if my manner was rather short, I sincerely hope that the obliging official who aroused me on that morning has not since been consumed with grief on account of my hastily-spoken words. When I readied the coffee-room, and discovered that he had prepared a tempting breakfast for me, 1 felt more kindly disposed towards him. Having done full justice to the meal. I left the hotel in order to keep an appointment, at the running-shed of H. Viney and Co., Ltd., Motor-transport Engineers, of Strand Road, Preston, whence I was to start with a Levland " steamer " on its usual Monday's round. The Preston Town Council had evidently neglected to settle the previous quarter's account for street lighting, and, as the streets were absolutely deserted at that early hour, I gave up the attempt, unguided, to reach the running shed, and awaited the arrival of the wagon in Fishergate, along which thoroughfare the machine was bound to pass, on its way to Burnley.
This five-ton wagon and trailer are loaded up each Saturday, and the start is made not later than 4 a.m. on the Monday morning following for the places named, where over 200 cases of Whitbread's bottled stout and beer are delivered during 22 calls. This " round " forms part of a large contract, which is to extend over many years, with Whitbread and Co., Ltd. The total distance for this run is about 50 miles, and the total imposed load on the wagon and its trailer is nearly eight tons. When the wagon put in an appearance, in Fishergate, shortly after four o'clock, I made myself as comfortable as possible among the cases of bottled goods, and by 6.15 we had reached Blackburn, and the wagon was climbing the long stonesett-armoured hill on the road to
Burnley. The greasy state of the surface caused the wheels to skid very badly, and, had not the vehicle been skilfully handled by the men in charge, there might have been a serious accident; as it was, we ultimately surmounted the hill after the use of sacks. grit and—nausele. When nearing Church, at 7 a.m., we made our first halt for water, and again, just before entering Burnley, we took in a further supply, not because it was immediately needed, but so that we might be enabled to complete the delivery of the bulk of our cargo in Burnley and Brierfield without making further stops for watering. The first delivery, consisting of 20 cases of bottled stout and ale, was made at Burnley at 8.20 a.m., and at several other places in this town were further deliveries made.
Burnley's streets have an unenviable reputation among drivers of heavy commercial vehicles; many a wagon is forced, by the electric tramcars, on to the excessive side-fall of the roads, and, once its wheels slide into the gutter of a Burnley street, a steel-tired machine is only " pinched" out again with great difficulty. We made the last local delivery in the Burnley district at 10.30, at a point less than eight miles from the boundary line which separates Lancashire from Yorkshire. Brierfield was our next place of call ; here we left over 100 eases of bottled goods, and received the same number of " empties." I took a. photograph of the wagon when in the position to which it was backed, along a narrow lane some 30 yds. long, for unloading, and this view shows how little room there was to spare between the two walls and the sides of the vehicle; a slight error of judgment on the part of the driver, and he would have had the not too-substantially-built walls falling in on his wagon. In addition to this man, " Joe " Ridgley, and the stoker, a. loader accompanies this wagon, and his duties are particularly responsible; lie must not only "do his little bit " so far as the handling of the load is concerned, but he must also, in many cases, collect the aeccents for the goods delivered, and make due allowances for " returned empties," etc. These three men formed a. N cry cheery " crowd," and I was pleased to note that they showed genuine interest in their work, and, when not occupied in the handling of the load, each would find some little duty to perform in connection with the wagon or its trailer-duties which were discharged automatically, and without a grumble; in fact, the stoker's " chuckle" was something to remember for many a day. I was informed that he is an ex-army man who had been through the South-African campaign. I can imagine that such a nature as is habitually displayed by him would make him a very popular man amongst the Tommies after a hard da3's work. Having witnessed the completion of the exchange of full bottles for empty ones, I left the men to partake of their mid-day meal, and sought. out • a satisfying, if not too-appetising, meal for myself at a neighbouring hotel. We were all on the road again by 12.45, and, before leaving Brierfield, we took up more water, from a stone trough at the side of the road. This trough receives its supply from a spring in the side of a neighbouring bill, and, consequently, is " free " water to all comers. Notwithstanding this, the local authorities have posted a notice to the effect that the taking of water is prohibited. How much regard we paid to this notice may be judged by those readers who choose to examine the accompanying illustration of the notice and the tank in question. The " snaky" object at the lower right-hand corner is our suction hose. I may add that a
Yorkshire " was standing near by, also waiting to take in water, and a " limb of the law " was not many yards away. Legal proceedings, I am told, can only be taken if the watering steamer causes any obstruction to the electric trams, the tracks for which take up the greater part of the road. We collected the last of the empties, in Burnley, at three p.m., and made for Preston, via Padtham, Read, Whalley and Mellowbrook, then along the Blackburn road, and through Sandesbury, to Preston. A very large part of the road taken on the return journey is macadam, and, consequently, good time was made.
We arrived at Strand Road, Preston, about 6.30 p.m., and I was there
met by Mr. C. be M. Gosselin, the managing director of H. Viney and Co., Ltd., who very kindly showed me his trading books for the past year, and permitted MB to make certain extracts relating to the cost of running for his Leyland wagons. The vehicle which I accompanied is " No. 6 " of a fleet of similar machines operated by this company over an area bounded by Blackburn, Burnley, Oldham, Manchester and Wigan, a map of which district was reproduced on page 490 of our issue of the 19th August last. " No. 6 " was purchased two years ago, its condition at that time being little better than scrap iron. A considerable sum was expended on repairs, and the replacement of broken and worn-out parts, and thus a good and serviceable machine was created out of the old wreck. The cost of this initial overhaul was, of course, charged to capital account. Since it was put into service, the wagon, which usually draws a loaded trailer behind it, has maintained a weekly average of 161:1 miles, whilst the average weekly mileage for the whole of the company's vehicles of the fleet is 15611
'the total cost per mile run for " No. 6 " is is. 10. per mile, whereas the average for all the vehicles of the fleet is is. 24d. per mile. The latter amount is made up as follows :— This total cast per mile is higher than many of the figures which we have given, from time to time, for wagons in ordinary employment, but it must be noted that, for work of this class, three men are generally needed -hence, the high charge for wages.
Depreciation, too, is necessarily placed at a higher rate by a contractor working in such a district OS Lancashire than would be necessary in the ease of a private owner situated in a district where work is less strenuous. Viney and Co., Ltd., intends to build up a motor-haulage business on sound commercial lines, and the excellent relationship which exists between the management and the men clearly indicates the determination, of both sides, to attain success. It may, therefore, safely be assumed that
the figures we have given are on the liberal side, and take into account every possible charge and contingency against the vehicles. I may add that this company pays the following price for its stores: gear oil, is. per gallon ; cylinder oil, le. 6d_ per gallon ; paraffin for lamps, 5d. per gallon ; and coke, 70. per cwt., or 15s. per ton. The tare weight of " No. 6 " is 4 tons 19 cwt. ; its trailer weighs 1 ton 7 cwt.; and the gross weight to be moved, when both wagon and trailer are loaded, is 15 tons 6 cwt.
The Mardi Himal Trek is a short and scenic trek in Nepal with beautiful forest trails, local villages and stunning views of Machhapuchhre and the Annapurna range. It is a peaceful adventure perfect for nature and mountain lovers. For more details: amblehimalaya.com/package/mardi-himal-trek
It's easy to pick holes in the legend of Thomas the Rhymer. Many of the references to him and his predictions were written centuries after his death, but folklore is not necessarily unreliable just because it's verbal, and there's a good argument that in this case, where there's smoke there may once have been fire!
The problem is that the historical reality of True Thomas has been almost completely submerged in the tidal wave of myth and legend that has grown up around him over the centuries since. While it seems reasonable to dismiss the story that he "disappeared for seven years to live with the Queen of Elfland and returned to Ercildoune with the gift of prophecy", there are plenty of predictions attributed to him that may either be genuine or may have contained some degree of truth.
Popular lore recounts that he prophesied some of the great events in Scottish history, including the death of Alexander III of Scotland in 1286. He is said to have told the Earl of Dunbar:
"On the morrow, afore noon, shall blow the greatest wind that ever was heard before in Scotland."
There having been no significant change in the weather by the time his lordship sat down for his lunch the following day, a "please explain" was sent to Thomas, who replied that the appointed hour had not yet come, shortly after which, news arrived from Fife of the king's death.
Another of the Rhymer's predictions is said to go like this:
"When the Yowes o' Gowrie come to land,
The Day o' Judgment's near at hand"
A "Yowe" in the country parts of Scotland, is a ewe and the Yowes of Gowrie were two large rounded ovine looking rocks in the Tay estuary, just off the shore from Invergowrie, close to the outlet of the Fowlis Burn. Why and how should two large rocks ever come ashore you might well wonder? Well they had been observed over a period of many years to be getting slowly but surely closer to the shoreline! Or to be more precise, the shoreline was getting closer to them! Then in the 19th century they finally did come ashore. The Dundee to Perth railway line was built along that part of the coast line, seemingly just offshore of the yowes, after which the area to landward of the railway was used as a rubbish dump - supposedly burying the yowes in the process. So technically the yowes have "come to land", without triggering the Day of Judgement, although there are parts of Dundee where it probably can't come soon enough!
Perhaps my favourite of the Rhymer's prophecies, concerns Fyvie Castle in Aberdeenshire. He is said to have said:
"Fyvie, Fyvie thou'se never thrive,
lang's there's in thee stanes three :
There's ane intill the highest tower,
There's ane intill the ladye's bower,
There's ane aneath the water-yett,
And thir three stanes ye'se never get."
What does that mean when translated loosely into understandable English?
It is believed that there were three special stones at Fyvie - weeping stones. They remained permanently damp, whatever the weather and the whereabouts of two of them are unknown. The Rhymer's prediction is interpreted as meaning that until all three were located, no eldest son would succeed to his father at Fyvie. The 'Ladye's bower' is the castle's charter room, and the one surviving stone is kept there to this day. Whether there is another one built into the castles 'highest tower', nobody seems to know, but the biggest problem is the one said to be underneath the water-gate. This would place it in the River Ythan, which runs around the castle, and trying to identify a damp stone is a river is of course a difficult task!
So what about the prediction, that no oldest son would inherit? I have known this story, without questioning it, for most of my life, having been solemnly told that indeed, no eldest son had ever inherited the castle. But in the interests of science, I though I would spend some time now trying to find out whether that's true!
Fyvie was originally (before the time of the Rhymer a royal castle. We know that King Alexander II signed charters here in February 1222 and The Bruce stayed here in the early years of the 14th century. Since then, it has been owned by five families - the Prestons, the Meldrums, the Setons, the Gordons and the Forbes-Leiths.
Actually, technically, there were six families! In 1370, King Robert II granted Fyvie to his son and heir John (later Robert III), who in turn passed the castle to his cousin, Sir James Lindsay. However, in 1388 the Scots had a rare victory over the English at the Battle of Otterburn, during which Ralph de Percy was captured by Sir Henry Preston, the brother-in-law of Sir James Lindsay. When Robert III came to the throne two years later in 1390 he purchased the rights to Ralph de Percy's ransom by transferring ownership of Fyvie Castle from Sir James Lindsay to Sir Henry Preston. This would seem rather unfair, although I imagine Sir James would have been adequately compensated, but it does of course set the prophesy off in the right direction - Sir James' heir never inherited Fyvie!
So leaving Sir James Lyndsay to one side, the first effective owner of Fyvie in the post royal era, was Sir Henry Preston. When he died around the year 1433, he wasn't succeeded by his son, because he didn't have any! Fyvie went to Sir Alexander Meldrum of that ilk, who had married one of Sir Henry's two daughters.
Fyvie remained in the hands of the Meldrums for about 160 years, passing through the hands of several (probably five) generations of the family, but as we don't know the genealogy of this part of the Meldrum family, we can't say whether an eldest son ever inherited. Probably yes, but the accuracy of the prophesy can't be disproved! In 1596, Fyvie was sold by the Meldrums to Alexander Seton, later Chancellor of Scotland.
Alexander Seton, 1st Earl of Dunfermline and Chancellor of Scotland, was born in 1555. His first wife, to whom he was already married when he bought Fyvie, was Lillias Drummond and after producing five children for him, all girls, it is said that Lord Seton, blaming his wife for the lack of a son and heir, began an affair with her cousin (and future wife) Grizel Leslie. Betrayed and heartbroken Lillias died not long after learning of the affair, .
Lillias Drummond died in May 1601 and Lord Seton married Grizel Leslie a few months later in October 1601. On their wedding night at Fyvie it is said that they were both distracted by a 'mournful moaning' from outside their bedroom window. A search for the source of the noises produced no results but the next morning the words D. LILLIAS DRUMMOND were found carved into the stone sill outside their bedroom window, in letters three inches high and upside down, the window being over 50 feet above ground level. The letters remain visible to this day and since that time, Fyvie Castle is said to have been haunted by a lady in green, roaming the corridors of the castle, crying at her betrayal by her husband and leaving behind the scent of Rose petals!
How much of that is true, I don’t know, but what is true is that before her death in 1606, Grizel Leslie produced two daughters and a son Charles, and that Charles died young! It was up to Lord Seton's third wife to produce his successor, another Charles.
The eldest son and heir of Charles Seton, 2nd Earl of Dunfermline, also named Charles, died in 1672, just before his father! Alexander, the 2nd son became 3rd Earl of Dunfermline, but dying unmarried, the title passed to his brother James.
James Seton, 4th Earl of Dunfermline, died in 1694, also unmarried - which was somewhat immaterial because, having supported the Jacobite cause in the 1689 Rising, his castle and estate had already been confiscated by the crown. Fyvie remained a crown property until it was sold in 1733.
The purchaser in 1733 was William Gordon, 2nd Earl of Aberdeen. His wife at the time was Anne Gordon, daughter of the 2nd Duke of Gordon and their eldest son William inherited Fyvie from his father. But those that have read this far and are hoping the Rhymer's prophesy will hold true will be delighted to learn that Lord William Gordon had already been married, twice and had two sons by his 2nd wife. So once again, the eldest son and heir didn't inherit Fyvie.
General William Gordon, 1st of Fyvie died in 1816 when, unfortunately for Thomas the Rhymer, who now can never be taken seriously again, was succeeded by his only son William Gordon, 2nd of Fyvie Castle. He died without children in 1847, whereupon Fyvie passed to his nephew, Charles Gordon 3rd of Fyvie.
When the 3rd laird died in 1851, Fyvie passed to his son and heir, for the 2nd (and last) time that we know of in five centuries, William Cosmo Gordon. Either he or his executors put Fyvie up for sale and it sold in 1889 to the 5th and last family to own it.
Fyvie's new owner was Alexander John Forbes-Leith, later 1st Baron Leith of Fyvie. He was a local boy who had made his fortune in the steel industry in the US of A and used Fyvie to house his huge collection of paintings, tapestries, armour and furniture. His only son and heir, Percy Forbes-Leith, 2nd Lt Royal Dragoons, was killed aged 19 in 1900 during the Boer War.
In 1982 Fyvie Castle was once again placed on the market, and in 1984 it was purchased by the National Trust for Scotland.
So could Thomas the Rhymer predict the future? Well it's my belief he could do so every bit as accurately as Nostradamus!
Garth peeked his head around the corner. The room was empty, aside from the prison cells lining against the wall.
"Prison break is a go."
Two hours earlier
Garth awoke from his sleep, his head rising slowly. Wiping his eyes, he peered around the empty room. Six months ago he had been living in his comfortable home, acting as the King's partner.
Now he was an outcast, forced into hiding. Six months ago, when he and Arthur returned to Atlantis from the N.E.M.O facility, they returned to a broken kingdom. The royal guards had immediately attacked them upon their return. The two fought back, but Arthur was hit by a plasma blast from Black Manta, the traitor at his side.
He rubbed his head. He wanted to stay and fight, but Arthur commanded him to run, so he did. His spell was able to cloak him long enough to get out, but the regret still lingered. He eventually came across Murk and his resistance, where he now aligned himself.
Leaving the bedroom, he immediately made his way to the main room of the resistance's base.
"Good morning, Garth," Wyynde greeted, sitting at a table with food in front of him. He was the youngest of the resistance, only 18 years old.
Garth nodded to him, continuing to the war table. There he met up with Swatt, the resistance's head strategist. "Anything different today?" Garth asked, viewing over the plans.
"Actually, there is news," the man spoke, pointing to the Atlantean Dungeons. "Nudius has been able to get a constant flow of information from his cell. I believe Orm is no longer in the kingdom."
"What makes you say that?" Another voice spoke, Murk stepping into the room. He was glad in full steel armor, his severed hand replaced with a hook.
"Orm has been streaming his magic through the kingdom, combining it with the disruption corp," Swatt explained, circling around the prison. "If Nudius was able to send out messages, it means his boost of disruption has diluted, for the disruption corp is only meant to stop messages from leaving the kingdom."
"So that means…"
"It is the prime opportunity to get the king," Murk finished, turning from the room.
"Wait, Murk," Garth called, gaining his attention. "I'm coming with you, I can use cloaking magic to get us in and out."
Murk paused a moment before nodding. "Let's go free the king."
-^-
Arthur's head hung. Both his arms were chained against the stone wall, the binds covered in sealing magic.
It had been months. His kingdom had fallen to the hands of the one he trusted most, his own brother. His people were taken over… and his son's murderer was now the war chief.
"Reminiscing?"
Arthur's head didn't need to look up, he knew the voice. "Come to gloat?" he asked, no fight in his words.
"I have nothing to gloat about," he responded, the sound of him sitting down echoing through the hallowed halls. His helmet was removed and placed on the floor next to him. "I simply enjoy seeing you in this state."
Arthur's head raised, his eyes locking onto Black Manta's. "Why is that?" he asked, eyes narrowing. "This… obsession… why?"
"I hate you, everything about you."
"I'm asking why!" Arthur snapped back. "Your father's death was an accident!"
"Does that matter?" Manta responded, tilting his head to the side. "If a man kills someone while driving intoxicated, is that not his fault? If a mother leaves her child in her car and it has a heat stroke, is she not to blame?"
"This was different!" Arthur shouted back, pulling on his chains. "He tried to kill me! He was going to hurt innocent people!"
"So?"
"So? Was I supposed to let those innocent people die?!"
"A hero would've found another way."
Arthur opened his mouth, but paused, ingesting Manta's words.
"That's what I hate most about you," Manta spoke, his eyes narrowing. "You parade around as a savior… a perfect king to all. I know that's not true though.
"Your facade is cracking, ripping apart at the seams. It started years ago with her, and you haven't been able to conceal those cracks, not from me. Your imperfections do nothing but hurt others because you shield them away.
"I'm going to break you," he said, placing his helmet onto his head. "And when I do, that's when your facade will be shown to the world."
The man stood up, giving Arthur one last look, before leaving him.
It wasn't his fault. The grenade would've killed innocents… so he shouldn't feel this burden.
What Manta said though… would Superman have done it? Would The Batman have? Green Lantern? A hero is meant to protect those around them… that doesn't mean to murder their enemies.
Arthur simply lowered his head once again, tears leaking from his eyes and dropping to the floor.
Black Manta was right. He was cracking… and soon he'd break.
-^-
"Prison break is a go."
Garth and Murk walked through the halls of the dungeon, extreme precautions being used to avoid being seen. They'd made it past the front gate guards, now on subsection E. The registration listed Arthur on subsection F, which meant they were close.
"Hold on," Murk whispered, placing his hook in front of Garth. "Vulko is in this subsection. Let's get him before we head to the king."
"Right."
Garth reached into his belt pouch, pulling out a small circle. Tapping it, a projection of the prison appeared, showing off details on inmates.
"Vulko is two hallways down, let's get going," Garth spoke, turning the corner. The duo traversed the prison, arriving at Vulko's cell soon enough.
"Garth, Murk?" he asked, rushing to the cell bars. "What are you doing here?"
Garth waved his hands, a spell casting and breaking the lock. "The resistance appreciated your message."
Vulko's eyes widened, hugging the boy as his cell was opened. "I knew there'd be those fighting against this tyranny!"
"Keep your voice down," Murk ordered, gaining a nod from the old man. "And… I am sorry… about what I did."
"Wh-what are you doing?" Vulko asked, trembling at the sight of Murk above him. The brute reached down, lifting the older man into the air by his neck. "M-Murk!?"
"You…" Murk growled, rage building inside him. "How could you!?"
"What are you... talking about?" he asked, his words struggling to come out.
Murk reached into his pocket, pulling out a small dart. "You gave this technology to the Black Manta!" he shouted, his grip tightening. "You caused the death of the Prince!"
"Murk I… I can't breathe…" he wheezed, heavy gulps of air being taken as Murk loosened his grip.
"Then, you put the dart in Kaldur'ahm's office!" he accused. "You tried to frame a dead man!"
"What?" he asked, baffled. "No no no. I haven't been in Kaldur'ahm's office in weeks."
"You are the only person outside of the royal family that has access," Murk spoke, throwing Vulko to the ground. "Nudius Vulko… you are under arrest for aiding and abetting a known terrorist."
"Please, no," Vulko pleaded, holding out his hands. "It's a misunderstanding, I'm telling you-"
Murk didn't speak, instead spitting on Vulko. "You disgust me, traitor."
"I understand, Murk," Vulko said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're forgiven."
"Alright, my water clone is set," Garth informed. "We have about ten minutes to get Arthur and get out before it disappears."
The two nodded, following Garth as he made his way to the stairway. Turning the corner, the boy stopped in his tracks, eyes widening at the man at the end of the hallway.
"Why did you st...op," asked Murk, turning the corner and seeing thean across the hall. "Manta…"
"Well, isn't this special," Manta said, a blade being pulled from his scabbard. "A nice little prison break."
Garth's hands lit up blue, Murk readying his weapon behind him. "Stay back Vulko," Garth instructed.
"Boy," Manta called, pressing the side of his helmet. "Report to Orm that there is a prison break, then get here yourself."
"Garth…" Murk spoked, stepping in front of the boy. "Get Vulko out of here, I'll take care of Manta."
"But Murk!" Garth protested.
"Don't worry about me…" Murk said with a smirk. "I've been itching for a rematch."
NEXT TIME: Murk vs Manta, the Rematch!
it's terribly dark now so my room is like a yellow haze ⊙︿⊙
anyways, here's the new man of the [doll] house. oh yeahhhhh!
Still need a name for him :3 looking for something cute and maybe purple that isn't girly.
When Achilles’ mother Thetis immersed him in the River Styx to make him invulnerable, his undipped heel became his only weak point.
Thomas Banks made this sculpture for Thomas and Jane Johnes, modelling Thetis on Jane and Achilles on their young daughter Mariamne. It was perhaps especially meaningful since Thomas and Jane lost an infant son in 1786.
I race over to the one in orange who is poised ready to impale his opponent. I can’t let him go through with this. With all the speed I can muster I get just close enough to him that I manage to blast the anomaly off his body with my heat vision before he can go through with his killing strike. Phew that was too close. You’re getting slow Kent, too slow. I really need to work on my speed.
As I land on the ground beside the trident wielder as he places his head in his hands similar to what Wonder Woman did when I removed the object from her. The man in the cybernetic suit sits up straight having narrowly escaped a painful death at the hands of this man. He takes a couple of seconds to look at me before being able to see me clearly and recognize me as Superman.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ve been worse……woah…”
“What's wrong?”
“You’re Superman.”
“Yeah last time I checked.”
“What are you doing here?”
“When I see or hear people in distress I generally make it my business to help them as best I can.”
“What did you do to Aquaman?”
"Aquaman?"
“Yeah Aquaman. This guy.”
He points to the trident wielder, I suddenly think I recognize him from a couple of stories Finch covered a couple of months ago. Apparently able to communicate with fish and is King of the lost city of Atlantis. I thought it was nothing more than a fabrication of the media who chose to name him as the ‘Aquaman’.
“He had something on his person. I found a similar thing on Wonder Woman and the speedster. I suspected that these things were controlling them and when I removed it from Wonder Woman she seemed to collapse and stop her attacks. I just did the same to Aquaman over there hoping it would stop him as well.”
“It’s not Aquaman. It’s Arthur, King of Atlantis.”
I turn to see that Aquaman has come to and appears far less hostile than he did previously. It looks as though my guess was correct. Thank goodness.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“It’s fine. I’m just glad my mind has stopped playing tricks on me.”
“Your mind wasn’t pulling tricks on you. There was something stuck to your body that I think was controlling your actions.”
“What did you see whilst you were under it’s control?”
“Everything looked the same as it does now. The only difference is that both you looked like King Shark.”
“King Shark?”
“An adversary of mine. He has been responsible for several attacks on my Kingdom during my reign thus why I ended up attacking you all.”
“You saw more than one of this opponent and you still attacked us? Didn’t something cross your mind making you wonder how there could be more than one this King Shark?”
“I knew it wasn’t possible. But for some reason, no matter how much I justified that this wasn’t possible to myself I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t hurt anyone did I?”
“No. Besides a couple of dents in my armor I’m fine.”
“You never attacked me in the first place so you didn’t get a chance to try and harm me.”
"The others!”
“Others?”
“Diana and the messenger?”
“Messenger?”
“You mean the speedster?”
“I think you both mean the Flash. If you and Wonder Woman both had those things on you the Flash must also have one on him as well, we have to help him.”
“Don’t worry, Green Lantern’s dealing with him.”
“Green Lantern?”
“Yeah he’s a man I’d say late twenties maybe early thirties with this ring on his right hand that allows him to create things from his imagination.”
“I know he is Superman. I’m just shocked that he’s here. If he’s here then I’ve got all the candidates for the team.”
“Team?”
“Before I came here I was given an order straight from the President.”
“The President of the United States?”
“Who else?”
“What does he want with us?”
“He wanted me to try and assemble a team of some of the planets most powerful super humans into a team.”
“A team? For what reason?”
“To save the planet from an approaching threat….”
--------------------------------------
Come on Barry stop running and let me help you. I rise just above the Central City skyline to try and spot him running down a street. You can run Barry, but you can’t hide from me. As I scan for the fresh disturbances he will of generated I spot him running down a backstreet. Nice try Allen but a red blur can’t hide from me. Before he can leave the alley I form a construct in front of him, a new path that brings him up out of the alley and into my trap.
Barry always hated it when I trapped him in one of these hopefully he’ll understand why I have to do it this time. Barry races past me and before he can realize what’s happening I have him trapped in the hamster wheel. Good. I’ve got him trapped now to try and remove the damn thing off him and bring back the Barry I know.
Before I can scan him to find where object is on his body Barry punches me in a face. Ouch Barry, that’s not cool man but I know you can’t help it. Or at least I hope that’s the case as otherwise we’re going to have a problem once this is all over. With my concentration broken my constructs break and Barry plummets down to the ground.
Crap.
Come on Hal get your head in the game.
I regain my senses and successfully bring myself to a halt and as I do I spot Barry falling towards the ground. Before he can hit the ground I narrowly manage to form a cage construct around him cushioning him the impact.
Alright Barry, play time is over now. I shake the construct with him in to shake him up for a couple of seconds. I’m not aiming to harm him, I just want him disorientated enough for me to remove the object from him. After about ten seconds I remove the construct and drop him down on the ground in front of me. The ring scans him and manages to find the object on him and just before he’s able to race off I manage to trap it in an orb removing it from Barry’s person.
As Barry begins to race off he suddenly comes to a stop and turns to face me.
“Hal?”
“Hey man. It’s good to see you back to normal.”
“Normal? What do you mean? Where did Zoom go?”
“Zoom? Zoom isn’t here Barry. He’s never been here.”
I raise my right hand to so the orb floats just in front of Barry’s face.
“You had this thing on you Barry. It was controlling you and I guess making you see everyone as Zoom.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus. I can’t believe it. It felt so real.”
“Yeah, it’s been a weird day.”
“You think it’s been a weird day? You know that fish guy on the tv?”
“What? That Aquaman guy?”
“Yeah he’s here! I met him.”
“I already know Barry.”
“What? How do you?”
“Because he’s over there.”
I point towards Superman, Aquaman and the guy in the robot suit and Barry’s face drops.
“That’s not…..Superman is it?”
“The very same.”
“Man, today just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
“I’ll introduce you to him if you want.”
Barry rolls his eyes at that last remark of mine. Clearly he’s back to normal with that look. That’s a look Barry always gives me when he knows I’m having a joke at his expense. It’s good to have you back Barry.
--------------------------------------
I’m not sure what just happened, all I remember is being surrounded and held by two duplicates of Killer Frost. Then next thing I know I’m waking up on the ground, my sword is nowhere to be seen and my head is pounding. I place my left arm on my forehead and take a few moments to regain my wits. I notice that I’m missing my lasso and my shield as well as my sword. Where did they go?
I go to stand up and as I do I hear faint footsteps approaching me. Immediately I suspect that it’s Frost surprised to see me awake. I jump up and see that the one who was approaching me isn’t Frost at all. It’s a man wearing a suit in the style of a bat. Interesting design choice even if it is a bit odd.
“What happened to Frost?”
“Frost?”
“Killer Frost. A female witch with the ability to manipulate ice, some how she was able to create duplicates and they were attacking me. The last thing I remember is two of them trapping me before I lost consciousness.”
I pause for a moment to try and piece together what could possibly have happened whilst I was unconscious. Perhaps the Frost duplicates abducted me whilst I was unconscious and I’m now imprisoned somewhere with this man. I race over to him desperate to know where I am.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in Central City. Don’t you remember?”
“Central City?”
Frost never likes to stray far from Gateway city so it seems unlikely that she’d come all the way to Central City just to attack me. So I believe I’m not a prisoner here, but if I’m not a prisoner of Frost where did she go?
“Are you alright Wonder Woman?”
Another man who calls me that name. The people of Man’s world do like to call me that name.
“I’m fine. Sorry.”
Suddenly it dawns on me. What happened to Arthur or the messenger?
“What are we doing here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
“You were under the control of a small organism. It was manipulating your actions making you attack other people.”
“I was attacking people?”
“Yes. You attacked people such as myself, Superman and Aquaman as well as others.”
“Aquaman? Arthur’s alright?”
“If Aquaman is this Arthur then yes. He’s fine. Both of you were seemingly under the control of this thing along with the Flash and had been forced to fight one another.”
“Why would someone make us do that?”
“I’m not sure. But I’m going to find out.”
As the man in the bat themed suit says this, another man flies into the room wearing a blue suit and sporting a red cape. He turns to look at me and pulls a smile at me for some reason.
“Feeling better?”
I’m uncertain of how to respond to this but I know that I have to acknowledge him.
“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”
“Good, because I didn't want to try and fight you again. That sword of yours is sharp.”
The man in blue turns to look at the one wearing the bat suit enquiring as to how he is. At a guess I’d suspect he’d sustained an injury in combat. I only hope I wasn’t the one who dealt him this injury whilst I was seemingly under that things influence.
“I need both of you to come with me. Cyborg says he has news on a potential threat to the planet.”
“Cyborg?”
“The guy in the robot suit, Batman.”
The one in the batsuit appears to be known as Batman. Fitting I guess.
“What sort of threat?”
“I don’t know but I think you should both see.”
He turns to look at me and smiles.
“Is that alright?”
I nod and he flies off out of the building. The one known as Batman follows behind him and I choose to follow him grabbing my sword from off the floor as I exit the building. This sure has been one odd day….
and this is how i remember him best.
~
i'd like to thank all of you on flickr and facebook who so kindly offered words of sympathy and support yesterday. it was indeed one of the toughtest things florian and i have ever had to do, but we know it was the right decision, of that we have no doubt. his was a peaceful passing, and he felt our hands on his body as he traveled from this world to the next. this magnificent bastard lives on in all the hundreds of photographs so many people have taken of him.
it was an honor to have the privilege of giving him the love so few people would have bothered to give. as some said, even the asshole cats deserve love.
and thank you, harvey, for letting us love you, and loving us back as best you could.
xoxo
Sometimes the only way to high art is through deep pockets.
Perhaps this occurred to Andy Warhol when BMW asked him to paint its M1 Group 4 race car in 1977. Warhol, already a superstar, was constantly fascinated with the melding of the commercial and the artistic. BMW was happily molding America as its largest export market.
In the past 40 years, there have been just 17 BMW Art Cars, on average one every three years. Out of all of its Art Cars, this M1 -- already nearly priceless as an automobile, let alone one breathed upon by the most recognizable name in modern art -- is BMW's most expensive and valuable. Recently, it was shown for just two days at Paris Photo LA at Paramount Studios, the prestigious art festival's first foray outside France.
It was there that we spoke with Thomas Girst, whose official title is "Head of Cultural Engagement" for BMW Group. He earned a PhD in Art History from Hamburg University and studied at NYU, where he focused on the conceptual artist Marcel Duchamp. At BMW, he acts as the curator of its collection of Art Cars. Girst readily admitted that the reason BMW's cultural department exists -- the reason he is able to stay employed -- is purely to further the aims of BMW: "It would be negligent to say that we're doing this for philanthropic or altruistic reasons, it's really about the image, the reputation, the visibility of the brand, as well as, really, being a good corporate citizen.
"Because the way companies are being looked at from the outside now doesn't really have to do with the core business, but what do they give back to society? So, culture is one of these things."
There's an air of validity in such honesty. Girst never was a car guy, but he slowly became one: After watching the engineers and designers in Munich collaborate on BMWs, he came to understand why artists in the early 1900s fell in love with the automobile. A great, tremendous statue, "our sculpture of the 20th century," according to the Futurist Manifesto of 1909, a statement extolling a new artistic philosophy. It was the world's splendor "enriched by a new beauty: the beauty of speed --" one of the first public love letters to the automobile. Certainly the famed BMW designer Chris Bangle thought so, drawing his inspiration from the Manifesto and citing automobiles as "mobile works of art." One can only help but wonder the discussions Bangle and Girst might have had in the BMW staff-room cafeteria.
Warhol also dabbled in automotive experimentation. His fascination with Pop Art and seemingly innocuous objects expressed itself in Campbell's Soup and Elvis Presley, but he also touched upon cars; much like his work Eight Elvises, he created images of Pontiacs, Cadillacs, Buicks. All of these were created in the early 1960s, just when he was starting to lay the groundwork of his legendary Factory. "The reason I'm painting this way," he said in 1963, "is that I want to be a machine, and I feel that whatever I do and do machine-like is what I want to do … everybody should be a machine."
It's ironic that Warhol himself laid paint on the M1, explained Girst, as his Factory was partially about detaching the artist from the work. The traditional artist was dead, he theorized; painting by hand was a relic, and art could be made on an assembly line.
But then this was a car, a product reproduced perfectly on an actual assembly line. Warhol, painting it by hand and by himself, stood in stark contrast to his work at the Factory. Nick Perry writes in Hyperreality and Global Culture, "confronted with so consummate a work of mechanical reproduction, both Warhol's artistic practice and his verbal response were tantamount to confirming the irrelevance of the traditionally modern conception of the artist … Warhol observed that 'I adore the car, it's much better than a work of art.' "
Prior artists had painted a scale model of the car, then had their artwork laboriously transferred to the full-size model. But Warhol insisted on painting the car himself, dipping his fingers into the paint, daubing it on with a foam brush, smelling its intoxicating fumes, feeling the bodywork with his own hands. His signature is on the car, signed with his finger right by the exhaust.
Warhol needed just 24 minutes to paint the car, in a shop outside of Munich. By the time the television crews had rolled in, he was finished. "Should I paint another car?" he asked, pointing at a brand-new BMW, one that was belonged to the man who owned the paint shop.
"Over my dead body," the owner replied.
"He hates me when I tell that story," said Girst, "because he's still very embarrassed about that -- that he didn't let Andy Warhol paint his car, and turn it into an artwork."
Warhol's paint gleams in the spotlights, its hues contrasting sharply like a cartographer's first draft; streaks of different hues the width of a finger scatter across the solid patches like creased and crumpled paper. "I tried to portray a sense of speed," said Warhol. "When a car is going really fast all the lines and colors become a blur."
Warhol painted some additional body panels in those 24 minutes -- spare bumpers and side moldings, not as souvenirs but for a very specific purpose. Two years later, in 1979, the car entered the 24 Hours of Le Mans with Manfred Winkelhock, Marcel Mignot and Hervé Poulain driving.
We have Hervé Poulain to thank for this intersection of avant-garde -- sometimes as bizarre as encasing the corporate product in a trellis of ice -- and corporate governance. Poulain loved contemporary art as much as he loved racing; he was already a successful art collector an auctioneer. In 1975, he had approached BMW motorsports manager and father of the M1 Jochen Neerpasch with an unusual proposition: What if they raced a BMW that was painted by a great artist? Neerpasch, it turned out, was just as crazy on the idea as Poulain. In 1975, the sculptor Alexander Calder painted the first BMW Art Car -- the 3.0 CSL, known affectionately as the "Batmobile." Calder was already a sculptor, the man who invented the mobile, in fact -- and what was the BMW if not a kinetic sculpture of another kind?
Poulain personally drove Calder's Batmobile in Le Mans that year, along with Jean Guichet and Sam Posey, the latter a legend in himself. The car suffered driveshaft issues and was retired early, and was never raced again. Calder died a year later, in 1976; the BMW was his last work.
Warhol's M1 was more successful. With Poulain, Winkelhock and Mignot behind the wheel, the car successfully completed 288 laps at Sarthe -- coming in 6th overall, and 2nd in its class. During the course of the race it made contact numerous times, which is when Warhol's spare bumpers came in handy. (Primered bodywork on the M1 itself would be as a mole on the Mona Lisa.) Next to Roy Lichenstein's Group 5 320i. It finished first in its class, also driven by Poulain -- this was the most successful Art Car to date.
There was something special about the first four Art Cars: They were based exclusively on race cars raced at the grueling endurance level, and always after they were painted. Priceless works on parade in the quickest way possible, they captured the public's imagination before the public would bicker loudly about what truly constituted art. They fueled a discussion kicked off by Girst's beloved Duchamp.
Poulain continued to be a successful art auctioneer and race-car driver, penning five books on the intersection of the two. Neerpasch went on to manage Sauber-Mercedes during its Le Mans conquests, where he discovered a young, obscure upstart by the name of Michael Schumacher.
That brings us neatly to today. When the Warhol M1 was brought to Hockenheim in 2009 to celebrate Thirty Years of the BMW M1, artist and Art Car alumnus Frank Stella drove the M1 in an homage race. Girst was aghast. "I said, 'look, we shouldn't drive that car because it's worth so much and it's such a great artwork. I'm going to tie myself to the car like how Greenpeace ties itself to trees.' "
But the cars belong on a racetrack, after all, something that Girst eventually acknowledged. Still, what's the value of Warhol's M1? We asked Girst. "Well," he laughed, "we would ask you to estimate that."
The car still runs, its mighty 470-hp M88 inline-six intact, but there are ignition problems and the car hasn't been fired up since that 2009 outing. Not to say that it's not busy: Inquiries for Art Cars come worldwide. It is shipped from museum to museum depending on which curator organizes an artist's retrospective -- no dealership displays here, Girst stressed.
Maybe that ignition remains broken for a reason. "Can you imagine someone driving off with it?" Girst smiled. "It would be the greatest art heist of the century."
[Text from Autoweek]
autoweek.com/article/car-life/close-andy-warhols-bmw-m1-a...
This Lego miniland-scale BMW M1 Procar Racer - Art Car #4 (1979 - And Warhol), has been created for Flickr LUGNuts' 90th Build Challenge, - "Fools Rush In!", -
to the subtheme - "Art Car 2015!". The 90th build challenge presenting 13 different subthemes to choose to build to.
HAL would like to remind you that this holiday is too important for him to allow you to jeopardize it.
Elvis Aaron Presley[a] (January 8, 1935 – August 16, 1977), often referred to mononymously as Elvis, was an American singer and actor. Dubbed the "King of Rock and Roll", he is regarded as one of the most significant cultural figures of the 20th century. His energized interpretations of songs and sexually provocative performance style, combined with a singularly potent mix of influences across color lines during a transformative era in race relations, led him to both great success and initial controversy.
Presley was born in Tupelo, Mississippi, and relocated to Memphis, Tennessee, with his family when he was 13 years old. His music career began there in 1954, recording at Sun Records with producer Sam Phillips, who wanted to bring the sound of African-American music to a wider audience. Presley, on rhythm acoustic guitar, and accompanied by lead guitarist Scotty Moore and bassist Bill Black, was a pioneer of rockabilly, an uptempo, backbeat-driven fusion of country music and rhythm and blues. In 1955, drummer D. J. Fontana joined to complete the lineup of Presley's classic quartet and RCA Victor acquired his contract in a deal arranged by Colonel Tom Parker, who would manage him for more than two decades. Presley's first RCA Victor single, "Heartbreak Hotel", was released in January 1956 and became a number-one hit in the United States. Within a year, RCA would sell ten million Presley singles. With a series of successful network television appearances and chart-topping records, Presley became the leading figure of the newly popular sound of rock and roll; though his performative style and promotion of the then-marginalized sound of African Americans[6] led to him being widely considered a threat to the moral well-being of the White American youth.
In November 1956, Presley made his film debut in Love Me Tender. Drafted into military service in 1958, Presley relaunched his recording career two years later with some of his most commercially successful work. He held few concerts, however, and guided by Parker, proceeded to devote much of the 1960s to making Hollywood films and soundtrack albums, most of them critically derided. Some of his most famous films included Jailhouse Rock (1957), Blue Hawaii (1961), and Viva Las Vegas (1964). In 1968, following a seven-year break from live performances, he returned to the stage in the acclaimed television comeback special Elvis, which led to an extended Las Vegas concert residency and a string of highly profitable tours. In 1973, Presley gave the first concert by a solo artist to be broadcast around the world, Aloha from Hawaii. Years of prescription drug abuse and unhealthy eating habits severely compromised his health, and he died suddenly in 1977 at his Graceland estate at the age of 42.
Having sold over 400 million records worldwide, Presley is recognized as the best-selling solo music artist of all time by Guinness World Records. He was commercially successful in many genres, including pop, country, rhythm & blues, adult contemporary, and gospel. Presley won three Grammy Awards, received the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award at age 36, and has been inducted into multiple music halls of fame. He holds several records, including the most RIAA-certified gold and platinum albums, the most albums charted on the Billboard 200, the most number-one albums by a solo artist on the UK Albums Chart, and the most number-one singles by any act on the UK Singles Chart. In 2018, Presley was posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Elvis Aaron Presley was born on January 8, 1935, in Tupelo, Mississippi, to Vernon Elvis (April 10, 1916 – June 26, 1979) and Gladys Love (née Smith; April 25, 1912 – August 14, 1958) Presley in a two-room shotgun house that his father built for the occasion. Elvis's identical twin brother, Jesse Garon Presley, was delivered 35 minutes before him, stillborn. Presley became close to both parents and formed an especially close bond with his mother. The family attended an Assembly of God church, where he found his initial musical inspiration.
A photo of Elvis's parents at the Historic Blue Moon Museum in Verona, Mississippi
Presley's father Vernon was of German, Scottish and English origins. He was a descendant of the Harrison family of Virginia through his ancestor Tunis Hood. Presley's mother Gladys was Scots-Irish with some French Norman ancestry. His mother and the rest of the family believed that her great-great-grandmother, Morning Dove White, was Cherokee. This belief was restated by Elvis's granddaughter Riley Keough in 2017. Elaine Dundy, in her biography, supports the belief.
Vernon moved from one odd job to the next, showing little ambition. The family often relied on help from neighbors and government food assistance. In 1938, they lost their home after Vernon was found guilty of altering a check written by his landowner and sometime-employer. He was jailed for eight months, while Gladys and Elvis moved in with relatives.
In September 1941, Presley entered first grade at East Tupelo Consolidated, where his teachers regarded him as "average". He was encouraged to enter a singing contest after impressing his schoolteacher with a rendition of Red Foley's country song "Old Shep" during morning prayers. The contest, held at the Mississippi–Alabama Fair and Dairy Show on October 3, 1945, was his first public performance. The ten-year-old Presley stood on a chair to reach the microphone and sang "Old Shep". He recalled placing fifth. A few months later, Presley received his first guitar for his birthday; he had hoped for something else—by different accounts, either a bicycle or a rifle. Over the following year, he received basic guitar lessons from two of his uncles and the new pastor at the family's church. Presley recalled, "I took the guitar, and I watched people, and I learned to play a little bit. But I would never sing in public. I was very shy about it."
In September 1946, Presley entered a new school, Milam, for sixth grade; he was regarded as a loner. The following year, he began bringing his guitar to school on a daily basis. He played and sang during lunchtime and was often teased as a "trashy" kid who played hillbilly music. By then, the family was living in a largely black neighborhood. Presley was a devotee of Mississippi Slim's show on the Tupelo radio station WELO. He was described as "crazy about music" by Slim's younger brother, who was one of Presley's classmates and often took him into the station. Slim supplemented Presley's guitar instruction by demonstrating chord techniques. When his protégé was 12 years old, Slim scheduled him for two on-air performances. Presley was overcome by stage fright the first time, but succeeded in performing the following week.
In November 1948, the family moved to Memphis, Tennessee. After residing for nearly a year in rooming houses, they were granted a two-bedroom apartment in the public housing complex known as the Lauderdale Courts. Enrolled at L. C. Humes High School, Presley received only a C in music in eighth grade. When his music teacher told him that he had no aptitude for singing, he brought in his guitar the next day and sang a recent hit, "Keep Them Cold Icy Fingers Off Me", to prove otherwise. A classmate later recalled that the teacher "agreed that Elvis was right when he said that she didn't appreciate his kind of singing". He was usually too shy to perform openly and was occasionally bullied by classmates who viewed him as a "mama's boy".
In 1950, he began practicing guitar regularly under the tutelage of Lee Denson, a neighbor two and a half years his senior. They and three other boys—including two future rockabilly pioneers, brothers Dorsey and Johnny Burnette—formed a loose musical collective that played frequently around the Courts. That September, he began working as an usher at Loew's State Theater. Other jobs followed at Precision Tool, Loew's again, and MARL Metal Products. Presley also helped Jewish neighbors, the Fruchters, by being their shabbos goy.
During his junior year, Presley began to stand out more among his classmates, largely because of his appearance: he grew his sideburns and styled his hair with rose oil and Vaseline. In his free time, he would head down to Beale Street, the heart of Memphis's thriving blues scene, and gaze longingly at the wild, flashy clothes in the windows of Lansky Brothers. By his senior year, he was wearing those clothes. Overcoming his reticence about performing outside the Lauderdale Courts, he competed in Humes' Annual "Minstrel" show in April 1953. Singing and playing guitar, he opened with "Till I Waltz Again with You", a recent hit for Teresa Brewer. Presley recalled that the performance did much for his reputation: "I wasn't popular in school ... I failed music—only thing I ever failed. And then they entered me in this talent show ... when I came onstage I heard people kind of rumbling and whispering and so forth, 'cause nobody knew I even sang. It was amazing how popular I became in school after that."
Presley, who received no formal music training and could not read music, studied and played by ear. He also frequented record stores that provided jukeboxes and listening booths to customers. He knew all of Hank Snow's songs, and he loved records by other country singers such as Roy Acuff, Ernest Tubb, Ted Daffan, Jimmie Rodgers, Jimmie Davis, and Bob Wills. The Southern gospel singer Jake Hess, one of his favorite performers, was a significant influence on his ballad-singing style. He was a regular audience member at the monthly All-Night Singings downtown, where many of the white gospel groups that performed reflected the influence of African-American spiritual music. He adored the music of black gospel singer Sister Rosetta Tharpe.
Like some of his peers, he may have attended blues venues—of necessity, in the segregated South—only on nights designated for exclusively white audiences. He certainly listened to the regional radio stations, such as WDIA-AM, that played "race records": spirituals, blues, and the modern, backbeat-heavy sound of rhythm and blues. Many of his future recordings were inspired by local African-American musicians such as Arthur Crudup and Rufus Thomas. B.B. King recalled that he had known Presley before he was popular when they both used to frequent Beale Street. By the time he graduated from high school in June 1953, Presley had already singled out music as his future.
Graceland is a mansion on a 13.8-acre (5.6-hectare) estate in Memphis, Tennessee, United States, which was once owned by the rock and roll singer Elvis Presley. His daughter, Lisa Marie Presley, inherited Graceland after his death in 1977. Following Lisa Marie Presley's death in 2023, the mansion is to be inherited by her daughters. In addition to being the final resting place of Elvis Presley himself, the property contains the graves of his parents, paternal grandmother and grandson, and contains a memorial to Presley's stillborn twin brother. In addition, Lisa Marie Presley will be buried there.
Graceland is located at 3764 Elvis Presley Boulevard in the Whitehaven neighborhood, about nine miles (14 kilometers) south of central Memphis and fewer than four miles (6.4 km) north of the Mississippi border.[5] It was opened to the public as a house museum on June 7, 1982. The site was listed in the National Register of Historic Places on November 7, 1991, becoming the first site recognized for significance related to rock music. Graceland was declared a National Historic Landmark on March 27, 2006, also a first for such a site. Graceland attracts more than 650,000 visitors annually.
Graceland Farms was originally owned by Stephen C. Toof, founder of S.C. Toof & Co., the oldest commercial printing firm in Memphis. He worked previously as the pressroom foreman of the Memphis newspaper, the Memphis Daily Appeal. The "grounds" (before the mansion was built in 1939) were named after Toof's daughter, Grace. She inherited the farm/property from her father in 1894. After her death, the property was passed to her niece Ruth Moore, a Memphis socialite. Together with her husband, Thomas Moore, Ruth Moore commissioned construction of a 10,266-square-foot (953.7 m2) Colonial Revival style mansion in 1939. The house was designed by architects Furbringer and Ehrman.
After Elvis Presley began his musical career, he purchased a $40,000 home for himself and his family at 1034 Audubon Drive in Memphis. As his success and fame grew, especially after his appearances on television, the number of fans who would congregate outside the house multiplied. Presley's neighbors, although happy to have a celebrity living nearby, soon concluded that the constant gathering of fans and journalists was a nuisance.
In early 1957, Presley gave his parents, Vernon and Gladys Presley, a budget of $100,000 and asked them to find a "farmhouse"-like property to purchase, with buffer space around it. At the time, Graceland was located in southern Shelby County, several miles south of Memphis' main urban area. In later years, Memphis would expand with residential developments, resulting in Graceland being surrounded by other properties. Presley purchased Graceland on March 19, 1957, for the amount of $102,500.
Later that year, Presley invited Richard Williams and singer Buzz Cason to the house. Cason said: "We proceeded to clown around on the front porch, striking our best rock 'n' roll poses and snapping pictures with the little camera. We peeked in the not-yet-curtained windows and got a kick out of the pastel colored walls in the front rooms with shades of bright reds and purples that Elvis most certainly had picked out." Presley was fond of claiming that the US government had mooted a visit to Graceland by Nikita Khrushchev of the Soviet Union, "to see how in America a fellow can start out with nothing and, you know, make good."
After Gladys died in 1958 aged 46, Presley's father Vernon remarried to Dee Stanley in 1960, and the couple lived at Graceland for a time. There was some discord between Presley and his stepmother Dee at Graceland, however. Elaine Dundy, who wrote about Presley and his mother, said that
"Vernon had settled down with Dee where Gladys had once reigned, while Dee herself – when Elvis was away – had taken over the role of mistress of Graceland so thoroughly as to rearrange the furniture and replace the very curtains that Gladys had approved of." This was too much for the singer, who still loved his late mother deeply. One afternoon, "a van arrived ... and all Dee's household's goods, clothes, 'improvements,' and her own menagerie of pets, were loaded on ... while Vernon, Dee and her three children went by car to a nearby house on Hermitage until they finally settled into a house on Dolan Drive which ran alongside Elvis' estate."
According to Mark Crispin Miller, Graceland became for Presley "the home of the organization that was himself, was tended by a large vague clan of Presleys and deputy Presleys, each squandering the vast gratuities which Elvis used to keep his whole world smiling." The author adds that Presley's father Vernon "had a swimming pool in his bedroom", that there "was a jukebox next to the swimming pool, containing Elvis' favorite records", and that the singer himself "would spend hours in his bedroom, watching his property on a closed-circuit television." According to the singer's cousin, Billy Smith, Presley spent the night at Graceland with Smith and his wife Jo many times: "we were all three there talking for hours about everything in the world! Sometimes he would have a bad dream and come looking for me to talk to, and he would actually fall asleep in our bed with us."
Priscilla Beaulieu lived at Graceland for five years before she and Presley wed in Las Vegas, Nevada, on May 1, 1967. Their daughter Lisa Marie Presley was born on February 1, 1968, and spent the first years of her life on the estate. After her parents divorced in 1972, her mother moved with the girl to California. Every year around Christmas, Lisa Marie Presley and all her family would go to Graceland to celebrate Christmas together. Lisa Marie often returned to Graceland for visits.
When Elvis would tour, staying in hotels, "the rooms would be remodeled in advance of his arrival, so as to make the same configurations of space as he had at home – the Graceland mansion. His furniture would arrive, and he could unwind after his performances in surroundings which were completely familiar and comforting." 'The Jungle Room' was described as being "an example of particularly lurid kitsch."[
On August 16, 1977, Presley died aged 42 at Graceland. The official cause of death was cardiac arrhythmia, although later toxicology reports strongly suggested that polypharmacy was the primary cause of death; "fourteen drugs were found in Elvis' system, with several drugs such as codeine in significant quantities. Presley lay in repose in a 900-pound (410 kg), copper-lined coffin just inside the foyer; more than 3,500 of his mourning fans passed by to pay their respects. A private funeral with 200 mourners was held on August 18, 1977, in the house, with the casket placed in front of the stained glass doorway of the music room. Graceland continued to be occupied by members of the family until the death of Presley's aunt Delta in 1993, who had moved in at Elvis's invitation after her husband's death. Elvis's daughter, Lisa Marie Presley, inherited the estate in 1993 when she turned 25.
Presley's tombstone, along with those of his parents Gladys and Vernon Presley, and his grandmother Minnie Mae Presley, are installed in the Meditation Garden next to the mansion. They can be visited during the mansion tours or for free before the mansion tours begin. A memorial gravestone for Presley's stillborn twin brother, Jesse Garon, is also at the site.
In 2019, the owners of Graceland threatened to leave Memphis unless the city provided tax incentives. The Memphis City Council subsequently voted on a deal to help fund a $100 million expansion of Graceland.
Constructed at the top of a hill and surrounded by rolling pastures and a grove of oak trees, Graceland is designed by the Memphis architectural firm, Furbringer and Erhmanis. It's a two-story, five-bay residence in the Colonial Revival style, with a side-facing gabled roof covered in asphalt shingles, a central two-story projecting pedimented portico, and two one-story wings on the north and south sides. Attached to the wing is an additional one-story stuccoed wing, which was originally a garage that houses up to four cars. The mansion has two chimneys; one on the north side's exterior wall, the second rising through the south side's roof ridge. The central block's front and side facades are veneered with tan Tishomingo limestone from Mississippi and its rear wall is stuccoed, as are the one-story wings. The front facade fenestration on the first floor includes 9x9 double-hung windows set in arched openings with wooden panels above, and 6x6 double-hung windows on the second floor.
Flanked by two marble lions, four stone steps ascend from the driveway to the two-story central projecting pedimented portico. The pediment has dentils and a small, leaded oval window in the center while the portico contains four Corinthian columns with capitals modeled after architect James Stuart's conjectural porticos for the "Tower of the Winds" in Athens, Greece. The portico's cornered columns are matched by pilasters on the front facade. The doorway has a broken arched pediment, full entablature, and engaged columns while its transom and sidelights contain elaborate and colorful stained glass. And above the main entrance is another rectangular window, completed with a shallow iron balcony.
Graceland is 17,552 square feet (1,630.6 m2) and has a total of 23 rooms, including eight bedrooms and bathrooms. To the right of the Entrance Hall, through an elliptical-arched opening with classical details, is the Living Room. The Living Room contains a 15-foot-long (4.6 m) white couch against the wall overlooking the front yard. To the left are two white sofas, a china cabinet and a fireplace with a mirrored wall. The painting that hangs in the room was Elvis' last Christmas present from his father, Vernon, and also displayed are photographs of Elvis' parents Vernon and Gladys, Elvis and Lisa Marie. Behind an adjoined doorway is the Music Room, framed by vivid large peacocks set in stained glass and contains a black baby grand piano and a 1950s style TV. And the third adjacent room is a bedroom that was occupied by Elvis' parents. The walls, carpet, dresser, and queen size bed are bright white with the bed draped in a velvet-looking dark purple bedspread along with an en-suite full bathroom done in pink.
To the left of the Entrance Hall, mirroring the Living Room, is the Dining Room, headlined by a massive crystal chandelier. It features six plush chairs in golden metal frames set around a marble table, all of which are placed on black marble flooring in the center with carpet around the perimeter. Connected to the Dining Room is the Kitchen, which was used by Elvis' aunt Delta until her death in 1993 before it was opened to the public two years later.
The original one-story wing on the north end of the residence includes a mechanical room, bedroom, and bath. In the mid-1960s, Presley enlarged the house to create a den known as the Jungle Room which features an indoor waterfall of cut field stone on the north wall. The room also contains items both related to and imported from the state of Hawaii because, after starring in the tropical film "Blue Hawaii" (1961), the musician wanted to bring some memorabilia from The Aloha State to his mansion, which gives visitors the same feeling. In 1976, the Jungle Room was converted into a recording studio, where he recorded the bulk of his final two albums, From Elvis Presley Boulevard, Memphis, Tennessee (1976) and Moody Blue (1977); these were his final known recordings in a studio setting.[27] During the mid-1960s expansion of the house, Presley constructed a large wing on the south side of the main house that was a sidewalk, between the music room in the original one-story wing and the swimming pool area, that connected to the house by a small enclosed gallery. The new wing initially housed a slot car track and to store his many items of appreciation, but was later remodeled to what is now known as the Trophy Building, which now features an exhibit about the Presley family, and includes Priscilla's wedding dress, Elvis' wedding tuxedo, Lisa Marie's toy chest and baby clothes and more.
The Entrance Hall contains a white staircase leading to the house's second floor with a wall of mirrors. However, the second floor is not open to visitors, out of respect for the Presley family, and partially to avoid any improper focus on the bathroom which was the site of his death. Still, it features Elvis' bedroom at the southwest corner that connects to his dressing room and bathroom in the northwest. His daughter Lisa Marie's bedroom is in the northeast corner, and in the southeast is a bedroom that served as a private personal office for the musician. The floor has been untouched since the day Elvis died and is rarely seen by non-family members.
Downstairs in the basement is the TV room, where Elvis often watched three television sets at once, and was within close reach of a wet bar. The three TV sets are built into the room's south wall and there's a stereo, and cabinets for Elvis' record collection. And painted on the west wall is The King's 1970s logo of a lightning bolt and cloud with the initials TCB, both of which represent 'taking care of business in a flash'. And the last room in the mansion opposite of the TV room is the billiard room; an avid billiards player, Elvis bought the pool table in 1960 and had the walls and ceiling covered with 350–400 yards of pleated cotton fabric after the two basement rooms were remodeled in 1974. The pool balls are arranged just the way they were in the musician's final days along with a strict warning sign to visitors that says "Please Do Not Touch! Thank You!" in capital letters. And in one corner of the pool table, there's a rip in the green felt, which was caused by one of Elvis' friends in a failed attempt of a trick shot.
Critics such as Albert Goldman write: "Though it cost a lot of money to fill up Graceland with the things that appealed to Elvis Presley, nothing in the house is worth a dime." In chapter 1 of his book, Elvis (1981), the author describes Graceland as looking like a brothel: "it appears to have been lifted from some turn-of-the-century bordello down in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Lulu White or the Countess Willie Piazza might have contrived this plushy parlor for the entertainment of Gyp the Blood. The room is a gaudy mélange of red velour and gilded tassels, Louis XV furniture and porcelain bric-a-brac..." And he dismisses the interior as "bizarre," "garish" and "phony," adding that "King Elvis's obsession with royal red reaches an intensity that makes you gag."
In similar terms, Greil Marcus writes that people who visited the inside of Graceland—"people who to a real degree shared Elvis Presley’s class background, and whose lives were formed by his music—have returned with one word to describe what they saw: ‘Tacky.’ Tacky, garish, tasteless—words others translated as white trash."
According to Karal Ann Marling, Graceland is "a Technicolor illusion. The façade is Gone With the Wind all the way. The den in the back is Mogambo with a hint of Blue Hawaii. Living in Graceland was like living on a Hollywood backlot, where patches of tropical scenery alternated with the blackened ruins of antebellum Atlanta. It was like living in a Memphis movie theater... Diehard fans are sometimes disappointed by the formal rooms along the highway side of Graceland. They’re beautiful, in a chilly blue-and-white way, but remote and overarranged." The Jungle Room's "overt bad taste" lets nonbelievers "recoil in horror and imagine themselves a notch or two higher than Elvis on the class scale."
After purchasing the property Presley spent in excess of $500,000 carrying out extensive modifications to suit his needs including a pink Alabama fieldstone wall surrounding the grounds that has several years' worth of graffiti (signatures and messages) from visitors, who simply refer to it as "the wall". Designed and built by Abe Sauer is the wrought-iron front gate shaped like a book of sheet music, along with green colored musical notes and two mirrored silhouettes of Elvis playing his guitar. Sauer also installed a kidney shaped swimming pool and a racquetball court, which is reminiscent of an old country club, furnished in dark leather and a functional bar. There is a sunken sitting area with the ever-present stereo system found throughout Graceland, as well as the dark brown upright piano upon which Elvis played for what were to be his last songs, Willie Nelson's "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain" and "Unchained Melody".
However, reports conflict about which one was the last song. The sitting area has a floor-to-ceiling shatterproof window designed to watch the many racquetball games that took place there when Elvis was alive. In the early hours of the morning on which Elvis died, he played a game of racquetball with his girlfriend Ginger Alden, his first cousin Billy Smith and Billy's wife Jo before ending the game with the song on the piano before walking into the main house to wash his hair and go to bed. Today the two story court has been restored to the way it was when Elvis used the building.
Elsewhere on the estate is a small white building that served as an office for Vernon, along with an old smokehouse that housed a shooting range and a fully functional stable of horses.
One of Presley's better known modifications was the addition of the Meditation Garden, designed and built by architect Bernard Grenadier. It was used by the musician to reflect on any problems or situations that arose during his life. It is also where his entire family is buried: himself (1935–1977), his parents Gladys (1912–1958) and Vernon (1916–1979), and grandmother Minnie Mae Hood (1890–1980) while a small stone memorializes his twin brother Jesse Garon, who died at birth thirty minutes before Elvis was born on January 8, 1935. In late 2020, Lisa Marie's son Benjamin Keough was laid to rest on the opposite end of the Meditation Garden after his death from suicide in July of that year. Lisa Marie Presley died from sudden cardiac arrest in January 2023 and is buried next to her son.
After Elvis Presley's death in 1977, Vernon Presley served as executor of his estate. Upon his death in 1979, he chose Priscilla to serve as the estate executor for Elvis's only child, Lisa Marie, who was only 11. Graceland itself cost $500,000 a year in upkeep, and expenses had dwindled Elvis's and Priscilla's daughter Lisa Marie's inheritance to only $1 million. Taxes were due on the property; those and other expenses due came to over $500,000. Faced with having to sell Graceland, Priscilla examined other famous houses/museums, and hired a CEO, Jack Soden, to turn Graceland into a moneymaker. Graceland was opened to the public on June 7, 1982. Priscilla's gamble paid off; after only a month of opening Graceland's doors the estate made back all the money it had invested. Priscilla Presley became the chairwoman and president of Elvis Presley Enterprises, or EPE, stating at that time she would do so until Lisa Marie reached 21 years of age. The enterprise's fortunes soared and eventually the trust grew to be worth over $100 million.
An annual procession through the estate and past Elvis's grave is held on the anniversary of his death. Known as Elvis Week, it includes a full schedule of speakers and events, including the only Elvis Mass at St. Paul's Church, the highlight for many Elvis fans of all faiths. The 20th Anniversary in 1997 had several hundred media groups from around the world that were present resulting in the event gaining its greatest media publicity.
One of the largest gatherings assembled on the 25th anniversary in 2002 with one estimate of 40,000 people in attendance, despite the heavy rain. On the 38th anniversary of Elvis's death, an estimated 30,000 people attended the Candlelight Vigil during the night of August 15–16, 2015. On the 40th anniversary of Elvis's death, on August 15–16, 2017, at least 50,000 fans were expected to attend the Candlelight Vigil. No official figure seems to have been released, maybe because, for the first time, attendees had to pay at least the lowest tour fare, $28.75, to cover the extra security costs due to a larger than usual crowd.
For many of the hundreds of thousands of people who visit Graceland each year, the visit takes on a quasi-religious perspective. They may plan for years to journey to the home of the 'King' of rock and roll. On site, headphones narrate the salient events of Elvis's life and introduce the relics that adorn the rooms and corridors. The rhetorical mode is hagiographic, celebrating the life of an extraordinary man, emphasizing his generosity, his kindness and good fellowship, how he was at once a poor boy who made good, an extraordinary musical talent, a sinner and substance abuser, and a religious man devoted to the Gospel and its music. At the meditation garden, containing Elvis's grave, some visitors pray, kneel, or quietly sing one of Elvis's favorite hymns. The brick wall that encloses the mansion's grounds is covered with graffiti that express an admiration for Presley as well as petitions for help and thanks for favors granted.
The Graceland grounds include a new exhibit complex, Elvis Presley's Memphis, which includes a new car museum, Presley Motors, which houses Elvis's Pink Cadillac. The complex features new exhibits and museums, as well as a studio for Sirius Satellite Radio's all-Elvis Presley channel. The service's subscribers all over North America can hear Presley's music from Graceland around the clock. Not far away on display are his two aircraft including Lisa Marie (a Convair 880 jetliner) and Hound Dog II (a Lockheed JetStar business jet). The jets are owned by Graceland and are on permanent static display.
In early August 2005, Lisa Marie Presley sold 85% of the business side of her father's estate. She kept the Graceland property itself, as well as the bulk of the possessions found therein, and she turned over the management of Graceland to CKX, Inc., an entertainment company (on whose board of directors Priscilla Presley sat) that also owns 19 Entertainment, creator of the American Idol TV show.
Graceland Holdings LLC, led by managing partner Joel Weinshanker, is the majority owner of EPE. Lisa Marie Presley's estate retains a 15% ownership in the company.
In August 2018, Gladys Presley's headstone, which contained the Jewish star of David on one side and a cross on the other and was designed by Elvis himself, which become publicly displayed when it placed in Graceland's Mediation Garden after being stored for many years in the Graceland Archive.
Lisa Marie Presley's estate, which is being held in trust for her daughters Riley Keough and Harper and Finley Lockwood, retain 100% sole personal ownership of Graceland Mansion itself and its over 13-acre original grounds as well as Elvis Presley's personal effects – including costumes, wardrobe, awards, furniture, cars, etc. Prior to her death in 2023, Lisa Marie Presley had made the mansion property and her father's personal effects permanently available for tours of Graceland and for use in all of EPE's operations.
According to Elvis Presley's Enterprises, staff at Graceland informally kept a list of celebrities who had visited in the first years following Elvis's death. This practice was not formalized for a decade. Muhammad Ali was an early celebrity visitor in 1978, as was singer Paul Simon. He toured Graceland in the early 80s and afterward wrote a song of the same name; it was the title track of his Grammy-winning album Graceland.
During the Joshua Tree Tour in 1987, U2 toured Graceland. The footage was filmed for the film Rattle & Hum. During the visit, drummer, Larry Mullen Jr., sat on Elvis Presley's motorcycle -- against the rules for Graceland visitors.
On June 30, 2006, then US President George W. Bush hosted Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi for a tour of the mansion. It was one of the few private residences on United States soil to have been the site of an official joint-visit by a sitting US president and a serving head of a foreign government. On August 6, 2010, Prince Albert II, Head of State of the Principality of Monaco, and his fiancée (now Princess of Monaco) Charlene Wittstock, toured Graceland while vacationing in the US. On May 26, 2013, Paul McCartney of The Beatles visited Graceland. Prince William and Prince Harry, while in Memphis for a friend's wedding, visited Graceland on May 2, 2014.
The home has also been visited by former US President Jimmy Carter; the late Duchess of Devonshire, the sitting ambassadors of India, France, China, Korea and Israel to the United States; as well as several US governors, members of the US Congress, and at least two Nobel Prize winners, namely singer-songwriter Bob Dylan, a Literature Prize laureate, and the former President of Costa Rica, Oscar Arias, a Peace Prize honoree, who visited it on October 10, 2001.
In May 2016, Graceland welcomed a newlywed couple as its 20 millionth visitor.
In June 2022, actors Austin Butler and Tom Hanks visited the mansion and were interviewed virtually by the Good Morning America news program from the Jungle Room to talk about their biographical film Elvis.
In popular culture
Paul Simon named an album Graceland, as well as its title track. The song won the Grammy Award for Record of the Year in 1987.
The song "Walking in Memphis" by Marc Cohn mentions Graceland; in the second verse, he refers to the mansion and the Jungle Room. This song was later covered by Cher and Lonestar, among others.
The film 3000 Miles to Graceland is about a group of criminals who plan to rob a casino during an international Elvis week, disguised as Elvis impersonators. No scenes take place at or near the estate.
The film Finding Graceland stars Harvey Keitel with Johnathon Schaech. Keitel is an impersonator who claims to be the real Elvis after Schaech picks him up as a hitch-hiker.
In the rock music "mockumentary" This Is Spinal Tap, band members gather around Presley's grave at Graceland and attempt to sing a verse of "Heartbreak Hotel".
Pop punk group Groovie Ghoulies have a song called "Graceland" on their 1997 album Re-Animation Festival.
In the movie Zombieland: Double Tap, the protagonists venture to Graceland in hopes of shelter during a zombie apocalypse, but are distressed to find it in a ruined state.
During the credits of Lilo & Stitch, there's a photograph of Lilo, Nani, David and Stitch visiting the front gates of Graceland. Almost 20 years later, the original painting of that shot was put on display as part of the traveling Walt Disney Archives exhibition at Graceland.
In the season three episode of American Dad “The Vacation Goo”, Steve Smith asks Stan Smith if they can go to Graceland for their next vacation and Stan says “Steve, if you want to pay your respects to a fat man who died on the toilet, we can visit your Aunt Mary’s grave.”
Phoebe Bridgers has a song "Graceland Too" on her second studio album Punisher.
In the third episode of National Treasure: Edge of History, "Graceland Gambit," the main protagonist, Jess (portrayed by Lisette Olivera) is on a treasure hunt that leads her and her friends to Graceland.
Florence + The Machine reference Graceland and Elvis in their song "Morning Elvis" on their 2022 album Dance Fever.