Words for transition:

I must be myself. I cannot break myself any longer for you...If you can love me for what I am, we shall be the happier. If you cannot...I will not hurt you and myself by hypocritical attentions. If you are true, but not in the same truth with me, cleave to your own companions; I will seek my own. I do this not selfishly but humbly and truly. It is alike your interest, and mine, and all men's, however long we have dwelt in lies, to live in truth. Does this sound harsh today? You will soon love what is dictated by your nature as well as mine, and if we follow the truth it will bring us out safe at last.

-- Ralph Waldo Emerson

[Better large]

youtu.be/Z1tURffUDBQ

So tired of hypocritical, egotistical, label placing, lying, cheating, lazy Mofos. Stop telling me who I am!!!! I already know! Morons.

I Love Mankind..... it's people I can't stand.

Charles Schultz

Who is under attack next?? Snoopy??????

Snoopy is racist. Didn't y'all know that? He doesn't associate with German Shepherds.

Ridiculous.

Thank you all for your comments and faves!

Blog: www.miksmedia.net

Facebook: www.facebook.com/miksmedia

Twitter: www.twitter.com/miksmedia

It's been rather hot lately and I find myself wishing for a cool breeze coming from the water, alas, I have no plans for a visit to any lake for the foreseeable future.. I was looking at some of my winter photos to cool myself of, but decided it would be a bit perverse of me to share any, just yet, especially when I am the one always complaining about cold ;D. And, since, I refuse to be a complete hypocrite here is some sunset images from Astotin Lake, instead. It was a surprisingly beautiful evening despite the rain and, I hope, I will have a chance to visit the lake soon again :D

my room is a disaster. my hair is greasy and choppy and i have split ends beyond reason. i can't go a day without wearing a ring on my right hand. today i wore an owl ring that was my grandmothers. i have no living grandparents. i can't stop editing my photographs with these neutral, earthy tones. i cannot stop listening to certain songs. and i have a lot to say about my own formulated ideas and opinions and beliefs on the questions i asked all of you, but i don't know how to say it all. i've been having trouble lately communicating. i don't know why, but i just want you to feel me.

and just know.

here's my own answers to the questions from my previous post:

1. i think i am going to go with a light shade of grey. and not have very much of anything on my walls at all. maybe just my polaroids.

2. this one

this one

and maybe this one?

3. I am a virgin.

i am thankful, so thankful to be one. however, I do not judge those who are not. i choose to love people no matter what they have done. for that is how Christ has loved me. i do not believe that sex before marriage is a sin because sex is bad. sex is not bad. sex is a beautiful, wonderful act that is made to be the bonding together of two creations into one. "the two will become one flesh" however, i do believe that sex before marriage is not a good idea because it always hurts someone or something. "all other sins one commits are sins against other things or people, but sexual immorality is sin against oneself." so pretty much, we damage our souls by this sort of thing. and we may not realize it at the time. but it does. it breaks us in the depths of our being. that is why it is not such a good idea, not because it is just a meaninglessly sinful way of living, but because it causes pain in some deep and intricate way.

i believe in self-control and purity. i do not believe that kissing is wrong before marriage. i think that there is a level of intimacy that needs to be there between two people that are in love with one another. there is a physical side to love. that is how it was designed. however, i do not believe in perverting love, and tainting it with sexual immorality. i am saving myself for my husband because my body belongs to him. my body is a temple that Christ has bought with a price, therefore i desire above all else to honor him with it. i believe there are certain limitations that we need to form for ourselves to know that we are honoring God with our WHOLE selves.

4. i am going to be dead honest with you.

at one point in my life... i realized that i was so consumed with doubt and frustration at the way in which my society was telling me to live. most of our principles here in America are founded in the bible, yet, we are such freaking hypocrites. i mean, think about what we do here? we murder our own children. we neglect the poor. we deny showing love to homosexuals and drunkards. we break marriage bonds by divorce. we cheat and lie and scam and kill and turn our faces to the very life that Christ has called us to live. our society is so corrupt.

our society is so wrapped up in ourselves we just cry and moan and piss all over the place. so yes, i am not afraid to say that before i committed my life to Christ, i was freaking influenced by the society i live in. i was confused as anything, but i was influenced. i would be a liar to say i wasn't.

before i truly discovered Christ, it was pretty much just the "right thing" to say i believed in God. thats what we do here in america right? "In God we trust" its pretty much written on everything we posses. i did not believe out of love. it was just what my world told me to do. so i did it. it was just a sick and empty life i was living. so empty and full of nothingness. i had no faith in anything but my self, and that in some way or another i existed and i was just going to be just fine in my comfortable little house in my comfortable little neighborhood, in my comfortable little city, in my comfortable little state, in my comfortable little country... i am repulsed.

5. but now, i have and am constantly being transformed in my mind. two and a half years ago, somebody in my life showed me the true love and grace of Christ, and i finally understood. i discovered truth beyond all reason. there is something that happened inside of me when i choose to turn from my old way of living in an empty and pitiful state, and following the only one who loves all people no matter anything. its called unconditional love. nothing else makes any sense except that sort of love. is that not what all humans desire? to be forgiven and loved? i mean... wanted? the core of everything terrible that has happened or is happening or will ever happen in the complete history of humanity is that there was a void of love. there was someone who was hurt and broken and empty and hopeless and nobody showed them this love.

we cannot deny the fact that even we ourselves feel no purpose in life without feeling loved in some way or another. it is the core of everything.

Christ came and said, "darling, child, i love you. i am love in the flesh. i am so incredibly in love with you, and i made you, i created you, i know every single hair upon your head, i know every freckle on your skin. i know your heart and i know your mind. and even though you have denied me, even though you have murdered and lied and judged and stolen and hated, i know you, and i love you and i want you to be mine. i want you to come with me, because i will show you a love that does not count those things of the past against you. i will forgive everything horrible you have ever done or will do. i will try to remake your heart so that love is at the center of it. not the absence of love. please, beloved, come with me and i will show you truth."

this is why i believe in Christ.....nothing else that this world offers me can surpass the truth of Christ and his love. i know in my being that it is the truth because my soul has always ached for it. always. and when it finally was filled with it, this God of love, when i finally understood it all, there was not a single crack or crevice that was not satisfied in me.

there is proof in faith.

i've lived without believing in Christ. i have gone down that path. i have walked it before. and now, i know, that it is a dead end. nothingness. nothing that we do in this life means anything at all without him. no other religion offers love in this way. no other religion calls us to just simply accept the love and live it. its not about all the freaking do this and do that's. if you have understood Christ to be the guy who stands up there on sunday and tells you that your wrong and your going to hell and you don't deserve anything good and your a big pile of shit, then you are being led astray by the brokenness and the void of love that i was talking about earlier. Christ is LOVE. he would hang out with those people that your preacher tells your are going to hell. why? because he loves all, and came to heal the sick. he came to love the loveless. and embrace those who have never known embrace.

At Pastor Charles Calvin's house, there is much preparation for the Thanksgiving meal. Pastor Calvin's son, Charles Jr. is just arriving with a much needed final sack of supplies. As Charles Jr. approaches the house, he sees the happy scene through the window, and his thoughts go to salvation.

""Test me, Lord, and try me; examine my heart and mind. For Your faithful love is before my eyes, and I live by Your truth. I do not sit with the worthless or associate with hypocrites. I hate a crowd of evildoers, and I do not sit with the wicked. I wash my hands in innocence and go around Your altar, Lord, raising my voice in thanksgiving and telling about Your wonderful works." Psalm 26:2-7

"Before God saved me, how my life was like this. On the outside, looking in. I professed to be a Christian. My father is a beloved pastor. I talked the talk and I did a fairly good job of walking the walk. But I never felt the joy and peace they seemed to. I always felt like I was outside, in the cold, looking in on a warm gathering. Not really a part of it.

And then God opened my eyes through 2 Timothy 3:5, " having the appearance of godliness, but denying its power. Avoid such people." I had an appearance of Godliness. I acted like a Christian, and worked hard to convince myself I was one. But I had denied the power of God in true salvation which is that He changes us, radically, fundamentally, from the inside out. I had been trying to have Christianity my way, when in truth Jesus is the way.

Then God saved me and I no longer felt like an outsider. 2 Corinthians 5:17 proved true, "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come."

Now, when I walk through that door and join them, I'm one of them. Thank you Lord."

•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•

Although heaven will be our first encounter with true, complete perfection, the Lord is already at work in the lives of His people preparing us for that perfection.

God begins the process of perfecting us from the moment we are converted from unbelief to faith in Christ. The Holy Spirit regenerates us. He gives us new hearts with new, holy desires (Ezekiel 36:26). He transforms our stubborn wills. He opens our hearts to embrace the truth rather than reject it, to believe rather than doubt. He gives us a hunger for righteousness and a desire for Him. Thus the new birth transforms the inner person. From that point, everything that occurs in our lives—good or bad—God uses to make us like Christ (Romans 8:28–30).

In terms of our moral and legal status, believers are judged perfect immediately—not on the basis of who we are or what we have done, but because of what Christ has done for us. We are forgiven of all our sin. We are clothed with a perfect righteousness (Isaiah 61:10; Romans 4:5), which instantly gives us a standing before God without any fear of condemnation (Romans 5:1; 8:1). And when Paul writes that God has “raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 2:6), he is again speaking of this position of favor with God that we have been granted by grace alone.

We are not literally, physically seated with Christ in the heavenlies, of course. We are not mystically present there through some kind of spiritual telepathy. But legally, in the eternal court of God, we have been granted full rights to heaven. That is the high legal standing we enjoy even now, on this side of heaven.

But God does not stop there. Having judicially declared us righteous (Scripture calls that justification), God never stops conforming us to the image of His Son (that is sanctification). Although our legal standing is already perfect, God is also making us perfect. Heaven is a place of perfect holiness, and we would not be fit to live there unless we too could be made holy. In a sense, then, the blessing of justification is God’s guarantee that He will ultimately conform us to the image of His Son. “Those whom He justified He also glorified” (Romans 8:30).

The seeds of Christlikeness are planted at the moment of conversion. Peter says that believers have been granted “all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). If you are a Christian, the life of God dwells in your soul, and with it all that you need for heaven. You have already passed from death to life (John 5:24). You are a new person (2 Corinthians 5:17). Whereas you were once enslaved to sin, you have now become a slave of righteousness (Romans 6:18). Instead of receiving the wages of sin—death—you have received God’s gift of eternal life (Romans 6:23). And eternal life means abundant life (John 10:10). That is what Paul means when he writes, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

Now let’s be honest. Even the most committed Christian doesn’t always live as if “the new has come.” We don’t always feel like a “new creation.” Usually we are more keenly aware of the sin that oozes from within us than we are of the rivers of living water Christ spoke of. Although we “have the firstfruits of the Spirit, [we] groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:23). And we groan this way all our lives. Remember, it was a mature apostle, not a fragile new Christian, who cried out in Romans 7:24, “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?”

Here’s the problem: Like Lazarus, we came forth from the grave still bound in grave clothes. We are incarcerated in human flesh. Flesh in the biblical sense refers not just to the physical body, but to the sinful thoughts and habits that remain with us until our bodies are finally glorified. When Paul speaks of flesh and spirit he is not contrasting the material body with the immaterial spirit—setting up a kind of dualism, the way gnostic and New Age doctrines do. He uses the word flesh to speak of a tendency to sin—a sin principle that remains even in the redeemed person.

Paul clearly spells out the problem from his own experience in Romans 7.

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. (Romans 7:15-–21)

As believers we are new creatures—reborn souls—vested with everything necessary for life and godliness, but we cannot fully appreciate the newness of our position in Christ because of the persistent presence of sin.

Like Paul, we “delight in the law of God, in [our] inner being” (Romans 7:22). Only the principle of eternal life in us can explain such love for the law of God. But at the same time, the flesh constricts and fetters us like tightly bound grave clothes. This flesh principle wars against the principle of new life in Christ. So we feel like captives to the law of sin in our own members (Romans 7:23).

How can this be? After all, Paul earlier wrote in this very epistle that our bondage to sin is broken. We are supposed to “have been set free from sin” (Romans 6:22). How is it that just one scant chapter later, he says we are “captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members” (Romans 7:23)?

The answer is, being a captive is not quite the same thing as being enslaved. As unredeemed sinners, we were full-time slaves of sin—willing servants, in fact. But as Christians who are not yet glorified, we are captives, unwilling prisoners of an already defeated enemy. Although sin can buffet and abuse us, it does not own us, and it cannot ultimately destroy us. Sin’s authority and dominion are broken. It “lies close at hand” in the believer’s life (Romans 7:21), but it is no longer our master. Our real allegiance is now to the principle of righteousness (Romans 7:22). It is in this sense that “the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). Even though we still fall into old patterns of sinful thinking and behavior, those things no longer define who we are. Sin is now an anomaly and an intruder, not the sum and substance of our character.

God is changing us from the inside out. He has planted the incorruptible seed of eternal life deep in the believer’s soul. We have new desires to please God. We have new hearts and a whole new love for God. And all those are factors that contribute to our ultimate growth in grace.

Although sin has crippled our souls and marred our spirits—scarred our thoughts, will, and emotions—we who know Christ have already had a taste of redemption. As we set our hearts on heaven and mortify the remaining sin in our members, we can experience the transforming power of Christ’s glory on a daily basis. And we long for that day when we will be completely redeemed. We yearn to reach that place where the seed of perfection that has been planted within us will bloom into fullness and we will be completely redeemed, finally made perfect (Hebrews 12:23). That is exactly what heaven is all about.

- "Changed From The Inside Out"

John MacArthur

2013

•────────────────•°•❀•°•────────────────•

Happy Thanksgiving 2022 as we at Paprihaven celebrate gratitude through God through the Psalms!

Previous Thanksgiving at Paprihaven!

2015:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/23317280855/

2016:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/31221411415/

2017:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/38546781536/

2018:

flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/45946160821/

2019:

flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/49117569293/

2020:

flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/50634408816/

2021:

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/51696887830/

on all bigots, homophobes, racists, anti-semites, fascists, tyrants, republicans, imperialists, oppressors, elitists, hypocrites, misogynists, xenophobes, extremists, and all other haters.

may you find *all the love* that you need!

© Danny B!

www.amnesty.org/

www.irrepressible.info/

Best on Black

“Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy.” Ezekiel 16:49

06-0908-P0911

Shot 3, Dentist

Ladies and gentlemen, let me inform you that cavities like these, requiring such fillings, are caused by failing to use dental floss more than a few times per year.

Do as I say, not as I do. (You can learn a lot from a hypocrite.)

Let`s all have a nice Tea-party

Taken in the most light polluted place in Australia, Sydney. However, given my last upload it might seem a little hypocritical to complain!

An open little spot I scoped in northern Sydney, looking back towards the City.

Have an awesome weekend!

Exif data:

Around 150 images at 30 secs each.

ISO 400

F2.8

www.facebook.com/TimArcherPhotos

Paid Cover Up.

Sumptus est, extendens arma, pecuniam, itemque ostentationem fugere est,

magnificence conjecturer propositions hypocrites qui influencent autorité motions,

φήμη απόκρυψη μεγάλη καταδίκασε απόκρυψη του,

Ruf fleißig zahlreiche Gewinne montiert Vermögen Gold,

Ядро эффективной сети ненависти убить жертвы,

tattiche dilatorie intermediari infuriati monopoli dichiara negoziati ingerenza,

tystiolaeth gorthrymder gwrthdaro lletchwith cyhuddo tystiolaethau swyddogion,

conjugate matematicieni substanțe înec scopuri consonante,

incidentele grammaticus rationele definities vragen werkoorzaken verdeeld,

foirmeacha bac sonrach a ghintear go huimhriúil gcrích imperfectly scríofa,

meticulosa observatione duplex principium communis reipublicae administratio pertinet Leges tulisse,

straks lover meklere inkluderer tvil talende inndelt mendicant fakultetet mener,

atos externos estruturam discursivamente intelectos princípios de aprendizagem começa,

テーブルの下に悪施錠されたドアのロックが解除悪の心を満たされた目に見えるポケットを明らかに!

Steve.D.Hammond.

"A Groundhog Day" Harold Ramis , 1993

Hello, my name is Sophia and I am a Blythe addict. I have loved these little plastic girls for the last 5 years – they have been there for me through thick and thin, they have made me happy but also made me mad at times, they are part of my life now, my family. I look at their big faces and I can’t help but smile.

But something has not been right. At first I thought I was in a rut but I realise I am not. Instead of logging on flickr and the forums and feeling happy, I am starting to feel stressed, sad, sometimes even angry.

What has happened? Has something changed? Or is what we are experiencing, our general malaise, to be expected with changes in the hobby?

I have decided to voice my opinion on this matter. I have thought for a long time about writing something like this. I have seen similar topics of disenfranchised feelings being posted on BK but I wanted to post my own feelings here, on my own space in the Blythe universe. I hope I do not offend people, instead, I hope that this opens up some discussion.

The one thing that has always driven the Blythe market that we all know, but don’t really talk about, is money. In fact, most non-Blythe people’s initial reaction to Blythe is how expensive it is (my friends still have a hard time getting used to the idea). However, as Blythe collectors, we come to talk in Blythe currency. The value of dolls and sundries are not in proportion to any real ‘worth’, but rather dictated within the bubble economy of the Blythe world – I use the word bubble economy to only mean that Blythes trade at values much higher than their intrinsic worth (i.e. cost of materials, labour, etc).

Even though Blythes trade at high value, I never really felt like that mattered. I suppose because we didn’t really talk about it. In fact, I still find it awkward to talk about the money side of Blythe with people – both Blythe and non-Blythe. There were joys to be had within our own Blythe bubble – a Kozy was a bargain at $400, a Kenner a bargain for $500. Everything is relative.

Which brings me to what I think is making me feel sad about this hobby - that we are now entering a phase where money seems to matter. Or the whole idea that what you own determines who you are. Community feels like it is being replaced with competition.

What competition am I talking about? I am sure no one will be surprised by my next statement - the highly exorbitant prices of ‘designer’ goods – in particular covetable customs dolls.

There have always been expensive dolls in Blythe. I remember when Leo/Poupee Mecanique used to sell girls on eBay and I would just stare at them in adoration. I never bid on them because I could not afford them (but perhaps I was also more financially sensible then! :P).

But the thing is, those dolls were exceptions to the rule. They were not THE rule. They did not reflect the general custom Blythe market as a whole.

Fast forward 3-4 years and let’s examine what we have. There are still affordable customs, but it seems that more and more customiser’s work is being driven up to values exceeding 1k, sometimes even 2k and 3k. In fact, from most of the dolls on people’s wishlists, I would say that at least 75% appear in this price category. And not because I think people have “expensive taste”, but that those dolls are simply expensive now. (Of course everything is a matter of supply and demand but I think it’s simply ridiculous now. I don’t think I am alone in saying that.)

Let’s put that fact aside for a moment and look at what that means for our hobby.

The first consequence is that commission lists are pretty much a thing of the past. As someone who has spoken to customisers about this, I feel this is a difficult position. If a doll sells for 1000, what is fair rate for a customiser to charge a customer on commission? There comes a stage when it simply isn’t smart for a customiser to continue charging what they initially charge for commissions, as their end products sell for much more than commission fee + base doll. I am totally on the customiser’s side in this view – it does not seem right for your hard work to profit someone else beyond mere inflation. So I support the customiser in this decision, it is simply impossible to keep things fair now.

But here is my question - what came first? Did commission lists close because of high prices, or did high prices close commission lists?

I used to proudly say I get the majority of my dolls from commission lists, because that is simply how I liked to do things. I felt like I paid a fair price, I felt like I got great service, and often commissions were a way for me to get to know the customiser and often led to friendships. I still like to support my friends who are customisers, because I love this personal feeling. I think with all my custom girls at home at the moment, I would consider all the customisers my good dolly friends.

The fact that high prices means commissions may not be a wise investment means that we lose this personal aspect in our community. Commissions were not only a way for people to get what they want, it was also a way to give everyone a fair chance and know exactly when their turn was up. I liked that even if the hobby was money driven, there was still this ‘fair’ system where everyone was charged the same and waited their turn. There were still lists I could never get on because I was not fast enough, but there were also lots of other ones I could join so it seemed balanced.

Commission lists are not possible anymore because people are able to boycott those lists by paying more or offering more. I don’t know whether this is because people are increasingly impatient, or because supply does not meet demand (probably both). It seems to me there is now increasingly a very small market of things that are worth a lot in Blythe world – certain designers or customisers – and they have become our currency. Our main currency. Money is no longer enough. I have to admit now, I have done this myself too, because I felt there was no other way. Some of my newer commissions have come across because I just happened to have a doll that the customiser wanted so I could trade. Other times I have made offers for trades.

I am going to say something controversial now – I feel like Blythe dealings are no longer transparent – instead I often wonder what goes on behind emails and FM’s and how these transactions take place. (Please note again I am not pointing at anyone or intending to hurt anyone, this is just describing my feelings.) I realise I am probably a bit hypocritical here because of course some of dolls came across this way. I would however, be happy to disclose any of this information to people if they desire.

Anyway back to the point at play here – although Blythes were always expensive, I don’t think it’s ever felt IMPOSSIBLE before. Now that is how I feel. It is how my close Blythe friends feel. We are not alone in feeling like this.

If one doll sells for this amount, you can expect the next one to as well. And more and more will go down this path, and it will just get more and more. Like a bubble economy it seems unsustainable. Will it pop soon? What will happen then?

Maybe it’s the greed that drives us. The more we can’t have something, the more we want it. Or maybe because those customs are fetching high prices, they have ‘legitimised’ their own prices and that is what we expect. This means however that most of us are being priced out of the hobby, with only a few left standing.

Most customisers have taken fantastic incentives to avoid this. Some sell dolls on more than one place so some are fixed price, and others auctions. Others now only sell dolls to those who don’t already own them. These are great moves that I think can help address the problem.

But I think we also need to change our attitude. Which brings me to my main point – that those prices are caused by US. At the end of the day what matters more to us, our community, or that we compete with each other? I am probably sounding very naïve, but doesn’t the competition put you off the hobby? That is exactly why I have been in a “blythe rut.” Instead of supporting one another, I compete with my dear friends because that is simply the way things happen now. I hate that. I hate that because I have $50 more I can get a doll that someone else can’t. I hate that I have to sell a doll at the price I paid even if that price was crazy to begin with. I hate that even if I stop bidding the prices will still stay up. I hate how hopeless I feel, and how angry I am. I hate that recently I had to pay more on a doll, more than intended by the seller and myself, because another buyer had a higher offer and the seller could no longer sell to me at her intended price. Because what can you do then?

I have boycotted custom auctions. I no longer participate in ‘taking offers’. The highest I will go for a custom is, and always will be, less than a Kenner. The most I have paid so far is $900 for a custom which looks crazy when I type it down, but it happened. As a result, that doll will probably never leave my possession because I can’t imagine charging that much again.

It’s not anyone’s fault. Buyers are not at fault because we obviously want what we want (myself included). Customisers are definitely not at fault because they are one person meeting the demands of hundreds. In this way, I can see that there is no solution to the problem. It may pass over time, but it may not. It’s not like those prices will suddenly come down, supply will suddenly meet demand, and we have enough customs to satisfy everyone. And I think it’s that fact – that things have CHANGED and will likely stay this way that makes me sad.

So let’s not forget to look out for each other. Let’s not forget our community. Let’s be happy when our friends get what we don’t. Let’s celebrate each other’s dolly families whether those dolls are “luxury” or not. Let’s be happy with that we have. Let’s bring back the love, the inclusion.

At the end of the day I guess it’s not really about the money, even if it feels like that way at the moment. It’s about enjoying the hobby and each other’s company. Let’s remember that again, that is the reason we are here. And also let’s remember, we should be acquiring dolls that we LOVE. Another thing I think we need again is PATIENCE. Patience to wait for the right moment, patience to wait our turn if we are lucky enough to be on a commission list. Life is already fast paced, Blythe does not need to be!

And I think everyone should be given a fair chance, don’t you?

I liked this,

so I will put one here for all of you; It is from Kurt Cobain's journal,

which is very different than what I expected, but I think I'm enjoying it.

Is it hypocritical for me to agree with this? I don't know:

"The conspiracy towards success in America is immediacy. To expose in great repetition to the minds of small attention spans. fast, speedy, and with even more nacho cheese flavor! Here today, gone tomorrow because yesterdays following was nothing more than a tool in individuals need for self importance, entertainment, and social rituals. Art that has long lasting value cannot be appreciated by the majorities."

-Kurt Cobain

Rebecca Bashly - Hypocrite's Crayon Gallery

One for the hypocritical religious types out there who are showing their true colours in the last few weeks by speaking ill of the dead and forgetting that people are born pure and can remain that way....if they really want to.

It's the sick minds of those who condemn that need saving.

One for MJ.

Bunratty castle in Ireland is a 15th century castle that has AMAZING medieval furnishings and tapestries. Its also a HUGE tourist attraction and the ONLY place that actually made me feel a bit claustrophobic because there were SOOOO many tourists. It made me feel like a local, i was so frustrated, lol (just a tad bit ironic and hypocritical). I was determined not to let all 'those tourists' ruin my shots, so I had more patience in waiting for them to leave the frame, than normal. Normally I dont understand the concept of patience.

The grounds of the castle have been turned into a 19th century irish village, which really feels similar to Williamsburg Virginia with street characters in traditional garb, animals around, and demonstrations of how things USED to be done.

I am NEPTUNE KING!

Now see, you were Big the Budo. *

Right??

And then he came out and was all, "No, now I'm Neptune King." **

But he didn't look like this Neptune King at all!

Big the Budō (ビッグ・ザ・武道ブドー) is my stage persona but my true name and identity is... NEPTUNE KING!

Well, why do you change your look so much??

It's like it's not enough to have a wacky origin, you also have to have split personalities.

And split wardrobes.

You do not understand! I'm quite arrogant and I look down upon the inferior Chojin. I'm a bit of a hypocrite regarding the Perfect Chojin rules.

...

Okay, that sounded more like a confession than 'ring talk'.

Are you crying out for help?

NO! I used to be the student of Psychoman until I grew too proud. Psychoman frowned upon this and kicked me out of the Perfect Large Numbers.

The 'Perfect Large Numbers'?

Was that a club?

But I was undeterred. I created my own spin-off Perfect Chojin. I disguised myself as Big the Budo and plotted to steal masks with Neptuneman. However, Neptuneman turned against me during the finals, causing our defeat.

Wait, are you giving us your origin??

He must be. It doesn't make sense. Aren't you Neptuneman??

No, no, he's Neptune KING.

Ah.

I can manipulate electromagnetic forces in the Earth with my Neptune Mask. I know judo, karate and kendo as well. After Psychoman stripped me of my rank, I took members with me and left. I called our group the MAIN PERFECT CHOJIN!

Oh, well, if you were the 'MAIN'...

Having left the Perfect Large Numbers, as Neptune King I entered Chojin Tournaments within the mortal realm. However, I became disgusted as the competition shifted from strong vs. weak death matches into a commercialized sport.

Wait... you preferred strong people going up against weak people in a death match??

I then went into hibernation under the River Thames.

Sure, that may as well happen.

I remained there for countless years until I was discovered by a Chōjin named Quarrelman. Quarrelman was trying to commit suicide by jumping into the river because he couldn't find any opponents strong enough to defeat him. Even Robin Mask was too easy for him.

Of course he was.

Together we plotted to bring the Chōjin competitions back to its bloody roots. I gave Quarrelman my Neptune Mask, making him Neptuneman, and created a new Bōgu-clad identity for myself- Big the Budō.

We weren't really ASKING for your origin.

We just said Kinniku-origins are wacky.

Aaaaand, you're proving that.

I and Neptuneman entered the Universal Tag Team Tournament as the Hell Missionaries with the intention of stealing the masks of the Chojin champions and giving them to our henchmen, so that 'Kinnikuman' and 'Robin Mask' would be our henchmen, if only in name. They appeared disguised at the beginning, revealing themselves to punish Screw Kid and Kendaman for their loss against the 20 Million Powers, Buffaloman and Mongolman.

So your henchmen put on Robin Mask's mask and people thought he was Robin Mask?

And, Kinnikuman doesn't even wear a mask.

And poor Kendaman! He doesn't need to be punished. He's self-punished enough. ***

We faced the Chojin Master-Student team of Robin Mask and Warsman, who we beat and stole their masks. In the next round we fought the 20 Million Powers, ultimately defeating them and unmasking Mongolman to reveal Ramenman.

I thought the 20 Million Powers were Buffaloman and Mongolman...

Shh! Just let him finish. So it will end.

In the final round, we fought the Muscle Brothers, Kinnikuman and Kinnikuman Great, who was Terryman in disguise, in a three-round match. In the first round, I, as Big the Budo, and Neptuneman won by Cross Bomber, revealing Kinnikuman Great to be Terryman, who had taken the role after the real Great, Prince Kamehame, died.

We lost, however, to Kinnikuman and Terry in the next rounds, when I began using the swords in the 'Sword Floor Death Match' I designed. This caused Neptuneman to turn on me, as using weapons was against the rules of Perfect Chojin. But since there is no Chojin as perfect as I, I can make or break the rules at my leisure.

Didn't you just acknowledge that as hypocritical?

SHH!!

Sorry...

As THE Perfect Chojin of 50,000,000 power, I am unstoppable! My Megaton King Drop (メガトン・キング落とし, Megaton Kingu Otoshi) where I perform a double under-hook and jump into the air with my opponent then I shift my weight so I am standing on the soles of their feet and I drive them into the floor with the added force of my magnet power.

Wow. Waaay too much info on your mega-whatever.

There is also my Budō Exploding Kick (武道爆裂キック, Budō Bakuretsu Kikku), and my Magnetic Storm Driver (磁気嵐ドライバー, Jiki Arashi Doraibaa).

Right! We don't need to have them explained.

I am 290cm/9'5" and weigh 320kg/705lbs.

Good grief, he's going into all his details now.

Thank you Big the Budo Neptune King Chojin person!

We've heard enough now. You can do your match or whatever where you beat up a weak person.

I will now describe my birth.

NOOOOOOO~~~!!!!!

💪M💪U💪S💪C💪L💪E💪

A year of the shows and performers of the Bijou Planks Theater.

M.U.S.C.L.E.

# 73

"Neptune King"

* As seen way back in BP 2018 Day 317!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/42426927085/

** As seen in BP 2019 Day 287!

www.flickr.com/photos/paprihaven/48897682641/

Justin and I would then make our way to Helmstetters, it was a circus in the spots everyone gets and the gate keeps to head down the trail were fairy hypocritical but thats besides the point. We walked to the east side of the curve and shot it coming around the S curve.

Nature gives us an amazing amount of wonders and within her bounty we find similarities upon which we decide to have reflections and those can lead us on to further investigation with wondrous revelations. The figure created by the silhouette of The Pentland Hills is an amazing sight and she can transform her image from different positions even appearing as if she is pregnant from one vantage. Here Mono and Colour are used to give a further insight into the Sleep Skyline Figure that may have been seen as a Goddess, as Geology in transition and also held so many regards that have been given and lost even as she is found in the landscape today and will with weathering and other developments over many, many years be seen as something vastly different than she appears today.

The Pentland Hills are magnificent and here is a share of their beauty.

I have been mentioning the weather lore of, “Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” and now the mention is still reaching into the links below.

© PHH Sykes 2024

phhsykes@gmail.com

Pentland Hills Regional Park

www.pentlandhills.org/

Red sky at night and other weather lore

www.metoffice.gov.uk/weather/learn-about/weather/how-weat...

Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version

2 He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red.

3 And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky is red and lowering. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?

Gospel of Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version.

www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+16%3A2-3&...

já que céu tava bonito...na falta do que fazer, rsrsrs :D

Today´s Soundtrack: Dream Theater - The Mirror

Temptation-

Why won't you leave me alone?

Lurking Every Corner, everywhere I go

I'll never hurt you again...

Bom Fim de Semana !!! E obrigado pelos views :D

Nature gives us an amazing amount of wonders and within her bounty we find similarities upon which we decide to have reflections and those can lead us on to further investigation with wondrous revelations. The figure created by the silhouette of The Pentland Hills is an amazing sight and she can transform her image from different positions even appearing as if she is pregnant from one vantage. Here Mono and Colour are used to give a further insight into the Sleep Skyline Figure that may have been seen as a Goddess, as Geology in transition and also held so many regards that have been given and lost even as she is found in the landscape today and will with weathering and other developments over many, many years be seen as something vastly different than she appears today.

The Pentland Hills are magnificent and here is a share of their beauty.

I have been mentioning the weather lore of, “Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” and now the mention is still reaching into the links below.

© PHH Sykes 2024

phhsykes@gmail.com

Pentland Hills Regional Park

www.pentlandhills.org/

Red sky at night and other weather lore

www.metoffice.gov.uk/weather/learn-about/weather/how-weat...

Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version

2 He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red.

3 And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky is red and lowering. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?

Gospel of Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version.

www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+16%3A2-3&...

Scripture: Matthew 22:15-21, The 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Subject: Why are you testing me?

Today’s Gospel reading is relevant to us and it revolves around a simple question that Jesus asked of the Herodians and Pharisees who were questioning HIM; “Why are you testing Me?” It is a question we should ask ourselves whenever, we are confronted by individuals that are “locked and loaded” with a question in which they will use to probe, confront, and ultimately judged and label us. Why? Within the question they are asking is their “intent.”

I offer some contemporary examples:

Are you a Christian? Do you believe in God? Who are you voting for? Are you a republican? Are you a democrat? Are you pro-life? Some local favorites: Do you drink coffee? What religion are you? Are you a Christian? Don’t you believe in God?

These are just a few questions we are all to familiar with and we do understand that they are loaded with more meaning than the question implies. The motives behind these questions, and our answers, can easily allow the one asking the question the ability to unload all the baggage that is behind the question with a convenient label such as “you are a good Catholic”, “you are not a good Catholic”, “you are an atheist”, “ you are a conservative”, “you are a liberal”…and yes a local favorite, “you are a gentile.”

I want to revisit our reading again…remember...

The Pharisees are plotting how they might entrap Jesus in some way, and the unknown reality to them is that- HE knows what their intent is. They think they are smooth by building Jesus up by saying “Teacher, we know that you are a truthful man, and you teach the way of God.” In a contriving way, they ask Jesus a simple question…” Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” Straightaway, because he understands their motive and intent, he asked them a question: “Why are you testing me, you hypocrites?” Without waiting for a response to his question He states, “show me the coin that pays the census tax.” Whose image is on the coin? Jesus is the one leading now. They say “Caesar’s image.” He states, “Then repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”. If Jesus had said “yes” he would have been going against most of the people and if he said “no” would have brought him into conflict with Roman authorities. You see in his answer Jesus avoided their trap.

They were amazed and his replay and went away. However, we must remember, that their original intent was to find a reason to kill him. As we know, they will keep trying until the the crucify HIM and yet they will soon learn that they are wrong-the Jesus movement has continued to our day.

What can we learn from Jesus and this Gospel reading?

Firstly, Jesus shows us what evil intent can confront us when we are citizens of two dominions-the temporal and the spiritual. As faithful Christians we maneuver between two worlds and make efforts to be loyal to both. Our loyalties are being challenged in every moment of our lives…this is our reality. More times then we would like, these worlds meet wherever a question is asked between us and another. Jesus shows us how he skillfully managed to stay loyal to both the temporal and spiritual. However, because of who “He is” we fully understand what Kingdom dominated HIS world-the Kingdom of God.

Secondly, we learn that our Christian beliefs are bigger (they transcend) the labels that get thrown around. Our secular labels are too small to contain the truths that our Christian faith entails. However, remanence of truth is found everywhere in our secular culture. When we mix the secular and the spiritual together expect confrontation and disillusionment. The effects of this are all around us. Yes, indeed these two worlds meet most visibly in the questions we ask one another. When conflict arises between spiritual and temporal powers, it is wise to keep in mind St Thomas More’s famous maxim, “The King’s good servant, but God’s first”.

But our reading challenges us to rise above the visible divisions that surrounds us. It is possible! Why every Sunday, we meet for Mass! For obvious reasons, we come into the Church quietly. We carry with us smiles, waves and kindness! Why? Because we understand that we are closer to God here than anywhere. We come into the Church a broken people and we leave with Christ in our hearts. As your deacon, after the conclusion of each Mass, I get to say to you “Go in Peace.” There are other phrases that I could use, and one is an extension of this on…”Go in Peace, glorifying the Lord by your life.” May we take up this Gospel challenge and meet those who would question us with hurtful intents, with a smile, a wave and kindness. Let us give them what they do not expect!

-rc

most people buy their meat from mass production stores whose animals are bred and fattened up in the worst, most inhumane conditions where they probably don't even see the light of day then, harvested for their meat and served up on your table and most of us don't think about this poor animal that never had a chance to have a life and try to survive just like us humans do and i find that terribly sad and disheartening. Now, i'm not a vegan or even a vegetarian by any means, but i only eat meat or fish once a day and veggies for the other 2 and my husband and i do our part to lessen our impact on this planet and it's creatures that we share it with by only eating free range and organic- and most of that we get because we both hunt; we are responsible conservationists... we eat all the meat we kill (which im sure most of you are thinking that it's completely hypocritical to say that we're responsible humans, but we kill animals for sport and thats not true), we waste as little as possible and we are very proud of that, but what we are not proud of is the likes of people who call themselves hunters that poach, maim and kill without respect and do not eat what they kill; they want that trophy buck's head or antlers for their wall and leave it's carcass laying in the field completely wasted (and let me tell you that happens more than i'd like to admit) and it's utterly disgusting... people who kill these animals just to take pictures with them to show off to their friends and to just throw them away like they are worthless... it just makes me sick, and sorrowful and ashamed to call myself human... i/ we just wish there was more i could do...

the deer head i used in this picture is one my dog found with my husband last year while they were pheasant hunting while i was home sick and i've been trying to figure out how i wanted to tell it's story ever since- a deer who had been shot, ran off and no one had tried looking for it (since the blind they were hunting out of was not very far away); this beautiful, amazing creature was killed and no one ever appreciated it. so, knowing how i feel about this, my husband brought it's head home with him so it could be appreciated (it will be in my living room when it's cleaned up some more) and i can tell people about it's story and how not to act as a human being, as a responsible hunter and fellow mammal on this planet. we hunt for food- an animal that lives in nature, has had every available chance to live, breathe, reproduce and survive on it's own and not some animal robbed of its life and freedom before it could only live. hunting is a necessary balance to keep order in the world otherwise, the animals overpopulate and run out of food, get diseased and their quality of life diminishes al long as we don't abuse it. please friends, take care of this world we live in, the animals we live among, ourselves as creatures and take what you need to survive. thank you animals for making food possible for our family and we will remember and appreciate you for the beautiful creature you are.

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© BlueFunambulist 2015 | Spain

Over human history, civilisations tends to identify with an animal or creature in order to show the others their distinctive features. Althought I am fascinated with the nature of the planet Earth, I will not choose an Eagle for representing myself. There is something on the species' eyes with what I do not empathize at all. However, I get absorved when I watch them fly. As Yesterday, in our way to A., Ruins. The wide and striking wings of an eagle can easily duplicates it own size and, when is close to the ground, the animal uses it claws for hunting for feeding itself and it eaglets.

On the contrary, our claws are still full, in the highest level, of sickly envy, of jealousy without foundation, of cowardice in adulthood, of hidden observers with closed mouths and of hypocrites who condemmn the hypocrisy. There is, probably and sadly, a long etcetera. The lowest points are considerably under Plato clasifications. Who can explain to me, why do we hunt when we are not even hungry. People may excuse themselves and think that without claws we can not survive, but I have to remind them that we are not eagles. There such a space between us.

We need more goodness, honesty, sincerity, admiration, humbleness, courage, loyalty, nature, justice, less pretending and more feeling. And if our feelings are bad: control, learning and overcoming. Maybe then, we will be a species with what persons as me can identify with.

—Thank you, W., for being that loyal assistant and follow my instructions for taking this photograph.

Listening to: Missing Parts, covered by Daniela Andrade.

Nature gives us an amazing amount of wonders and within her bounty we find similarities upon which we decide to have reflections and those can lead us on to further investigation with wondrous revelations. The figure created by the silhouette of The Pentland Hills is an amazing sight and she can transform her image from different positions even appearing as if she is pregnant from one vantage. Here Mono and Colour are used to give a further insight into the Sleep Skyline Figure that may have been seen as a Goddess, as Geology in transition and also held so many regards that have been given and lost even as she is found in the landscape today and will with weathering and other developments over many, many years be seen as something vastly different than she appears today.

The Pentland Hills are magnificent and here is a share of their beauty.

I have been mentioning the weather lore of, “Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” and now the mention is still reaching into the links below.

© PHH Sykes 2024

phhsykes@gmail.com

Pentland Hills Regional Park

www.pentlandhills.org/

Red sky at night and other weather lore

www.metoffice.gov.uk/weather/learn-about/weather/how-weat...

Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version

2 He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It will be fair weather: for the sky is red.

3 And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky is red and lowering. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?

Gospel of Matthew 16:2-3, King James Version.

www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+16%3A2-3&...

this may be my last submission to the 52 Weeks group. i'm a hypocrite if i stay. i started this group so that i could enjoy some great dog photos from other great dog photographers and dog lovers ... but due to my schedule (14 hours/day, 7 days/week for the past 5 years) i barely have the time to keep up with the admin duties of the group.

two weeks ago my partner's entire team was laid off ... that's 2/3s of our income gone. i'm now working 16-18 hours/day, and there's just no time for flickr (even if i liked flickr).

i think i've finally reached the point where i have to throw in the towel, wave the white flag, cry uncle ... i.. just. can't. anymore.

Old school here with four old style K6 telephone kiosks in Pimlico, which looked to be in working order.

Hypocritically I guess, this photo was taken with a mobile phone!

Name: Wren Hayward

Age: 21

Hometown: Costa Mesa, California

Likes: Cheesy horror movies, Rap music, EDM, Baseball caps, Gold chains, Partying, Alcohol, Candy

Dislikes: Hypocrites, Judgemental people, Boredom

Why should I be in Maxine's My New Bff S3: I never really thought about that. But I'd probably say it's because on shows like these, there's a plethora of girls and little to no guys. It's probably because guys aren't as committed as ladies but I don't know. I guess I just wanna break gender barrier or something. I think guys have a great chance of being Maxine's best friend. To add to that, Maxine would be a great person to be friends with. She's beautiful both inside and out, and a very genuine woman.

____

Of course I'd enter with Dex. Surprising. Thank you Nik, Tyrique, and Ivan for giving me the idea to use him. I'm pretty excited about this comp, the other contestants are... interesting to say the least. Though, my favorites by far are Beverley, Lucy, Kylie, and Monique..

Visit my website at: www.graemekellyphotography.weebly.com

you can also follow my page for news and updates on Facebook

I’m also now displaying my work at 500px

Looking down into Lulworth’s Stair Hole, home to the famous crumple, and beyond to the cove itself. One day these two coves will join to form a small bay, but at the moment they are kept separate by a deposit of Wealden clay and a few thousand years. I’ve been teaching the geography of Lulworth to school groups for 4 years now and have given constant warnings to stay away from the cliffs, so I judge myself a hypocrite as I found myself scrambling up here to catch the last rays on the top of the crumple.

Like the image? Press ‘L’ to see it large and ‘F’ to add it as a favourite, and feel free to leave a comment; it’s always nice to hear what you think.

Thanks for looking

Graeme

© Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved. If you would like to purchase prints or use my work then please contact me through flickr or my website.

At the end of my walk today with my dogs I was asked by this young man (relative to my age) if he could take a photo of me and the dogs.

It would have been hypocritical to have refused and naturally I asked for a street portrait in return.

This is Jamie and he is spending the next year or so travelling to wherever takes his fancy, while living out of his transport, taking photos of anything that catches his eye.

Sounds like something I missed out on 40 years ago :)

Today, marriage became legal for everyone in Connecticut.

Marriage is now equal in two states out of fifty, Massachusetts, and Connecticut.

Several states, including Vermont, California, New Jersey, Maine, Hawaii, DC, Washington and Oregon, have fallen short, creating Civil Unions, a policy of supposed Separate Equality, which is inherently unequal.

This country is absolutely treading on the rights of a minority group. Our laws are in place to protect minorities from the tyranny of majority rule.

If you want to take action, get in touch with the Equality group in your area.

There is a Nationwide protest against homophobic discrimination this Saturday, November 15th. Stand up and be heard.

Love is love.

In a country where church and state are separate, religion is free, and genders are equal, we are hypocrites operating under the principle that all Americans must abide by Fundamentalist morality in personal and legal matters, a moral system which inherently divides women from men.

So here's my question for you:

If I legally change my gender, can I marry whomever I want and get on with my life?

Dublin Ireland

Named for Padrig Pearse, Leader of the Easter Uprising April 2016. He was executed for his role.

Perhaps Pearse foresaw this future role in a poem he wrote called “The Rebel”:

I am come of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow

That have no treasure but hope,

No riches laid up but a memory

Of an Ancient glory.

My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,

I am of the blood of serfs;

The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten,

Have had masters over them, have been under the lash of masters,

And, though gentle, have served churls…

… And I say to my people’s masters: Beware,

Beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people,

Who shall take what ye would not give.

Did ye think to conquer the people,

Or that Law is stronger than life and than men’s desire to be free?

We will try it out with you, ye that have harried and held,

Ye that have bullied and bribed, tyrants, hypocrites, liars!

Leisure's.

المغادرة الحتمية ذات أهمية خاصة هياكل مثيرة للاهتمام تتوج تأملات مشاكل المعاصرون تقييم الاختلافات الفردية,

journalizing solidarity's catastrophe details actual crimes authoritarian deals hypocritical charades presumptions punishments,

schèmes aléatoires divisions invariables lignes mythiques distinctions narratives confusion pensée éléments de différenciation compartiments séparés histoires diverses,

themata philosophica transformationum formarum incomperta- tiones movet, retinentes quaestiones formales traditiones continuas proposita constructionum epicorum,

оппозиции, напыщенные вступления, многословные стихи, типичные выражения, подозрительные монологи, постоянные мысли, переписывающие детали.,

μοδάτες προσοχές κοροϊδεύουν χαρακτήρες περίτεχνα στυλ μπερδεμένα χαρακτηριστικά που απορροφούν εκπομπές παράξενα ακροατήρια διαλεκτικά δικαιώματα ρητορικές ενέργειες,

嫌な顔元気な視点考えられる要素を統一する解放崇高な休息実現動機マニック批評家は、並外れた過去の並外れた旅を続けて歩く連続した散歩をします.

Steve.D.Hammond.

America is big on “healing” through medications… I will be a hypocrite when I say this (when my mortgage depends on 👆), but maybe we give chemistry more power than physiology of a human ❤️

I'm taking photos, because I know someday, I won't look this good, LOL!

This photo got me into Facebook Jail for 30 days...and it's so hypocritical that Andrew Christian underwear can have men in more risque photos than this, and I get my photo removed. All attempts in the past few days to reach Facebook have been futile.

I realize that Facebook is a website of CHOICE, and we don't have to use it, but I want to say that their customer service access BLOWS.

I’m oppressive, because I’m part of oppressive society. I, in my privilege, have pointed out oppression. So I, in my privilege, have perpetuated oppression—thus proving myself to be an oppressor. My privilege is a stumbling block to the oppressed, which makes me an oppressor. In my privilege, I am a champion of the oppressed—an oxymoron. Since I am an oppressor, all that I have left to do is to loath my hypocritical self. Therefore I must not only hate society, but I must also hate myself. In the end my dialectic will cause my own downfall. My truth will be my destruction. Yet I don’t care, because I must follow my satanic cult to destruction. It is what consumes me, it is what I know best—destroy, destroy, destroy! Instead of selflessly helping poor neighbourhoods, I selfishly burn them down—rioting and looting. The end justifies the means! I selfishly demand, but I never selflessly give. My goal is to tear down society, not to build it up—yet in the process, I am tearing myself down. It is for the greater good!

I like to say “do not judge,” yet I make judgments about society—that it is bad and needs to be destroyed. I make judgments on people, whether they are good (oppressed) or bad (oppressors). Since I don’t believe in absolute truth, don’t believe my judgments/truths, because they are not true. I am an antiracist racist, and an antifascist fascist. Indeed, my truth is nothing but lies.

Here is a faith based statement: you can choose your own gender. Indeed, it takes blind faith to believe such a statement! You are woke puritans, spreading the gospel of your neo-Marxist/Antichrist religion. You are religious fanatics. You believe that your prescribed doctrine is unquestionably true. You are absolutists, who like to police people. “Political correctness is fascism pretending to be manners.” Your diversity is all about ideological conformity. Indeed, you collectivists love conformity!

You hate hierarchies, but you yourselves have your own woke hierarchies (hierarchies of victimhood/victim status). Your hierarchies cause resentment, which produces hateful bullies/oppressors/tyrants like Lenin, Stalin, and Mao (your heroes). You tear down one hierarchy, only to replace it with a hierarchy that is much worse. Your hierarchy revolves around hate (oppression) and revolution (rebellion), so when you come to power you murder millions of people (genocide). You are bitter, so you hate. You hate, so you kill. Your hierarchy will eventually bring in the Antichrist; then many more will die at the hands of your oppressive hierarchy. Can anyone say: genocide!?!

Our Hegelian dialectic moves on, pushing the moral boundaries of society farther down the rabbit hole of depravity. Society must be torn down, so that we can reBuild it Back Better. Order out of chaos! We will build a New World Order, replacing humans (oppressors) with transhumans. The goal: transhumans will eventually evolve into a raceless and genderless slave race, without families or cultures—equality for all! We will all be equally enslaved by our elite oppressors! Survival of the fittest! “There’s a sucker born every minute!” Humans/oppressors are obsolete and must go. They must become extinct. Artificial Intelligence must reign supreme; through it we will have eternal consciousness…godhood...bahahahaha!

We are the oppressors, and mother earth is the oppressed. We are nothing but poison to the earth. Woohoo—Net Zero Emissions, a mass cult suicide! Since all humans are oppressors, we must all go, we must all be replaced. Climate change—the real enemy is humanity itself. Transhumanism is the future. Eventually humans will be no more, and we will no longer oppress the earth. Artificial Intelligence must replace us.

Where is this cultural revolution headed? Just read the Bible! The oppressors who hate humanity will embrace transhumanism—the destruction of humanity. 666 take the Mark, worship the Beast! Your cult is of the spirit of Antichrist, and it will produce an Antichrist. Freedom bad! Authoritarianism good! You think that you are inclusive, but you are not inclusive when it comes to God and His laws. You suppress the truth, because you are an oppressor. You suppress freedom, yet the Bible says: “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.” Indeed, you don’t know what freedom is. That’s why you have embraced your bondage. You are nothing but a slave to your truth, your selfishness, your sin!

Revelation 13:4 “And they worshiped the Dragon (Satan) because he had given authority to the Beast (Antichrist), and they worshiped the Beast, saying, ‘Who is like the Beast, and who is able to make war with him?’”

In the end it’s a spiritual decision: whom will you serve? Will you serve Jesus or the oppressor? I already know your answer, because you are drawn to oppression like a moth to light—that’s why you oppress others. Like Satan, your goal is to destroy society and humanity. In the end your plans will go to hell, and so will you.

Your woke religious dogma is broke—you oppressors are oppressing our society.

Repent, for the Day of the Lord is near!

Shadow Work in the Gospels

Father Richard describes Jung’s concept of the shadow and how it is present in Jesus’ teachings.

The ego wants to eliminate all humiliating or negative information in order to “look good” at all costs. Jesus calls this self an “actor,” a word he uses fifteen times in Matthew’s Gospel, though it is usually translated from the Greek as “hypocrite.” The ego wants to keep us tied to easy and acceptable levels of knowledge. It does not want us going down into the “personal unconscious” or, in Jung’s term, our “shadow self.” The shadow includes all those things about ourselves that we don’t want to see, are not yet ready to see, and don’t want others to see. We try to hide or deny this shadow, most especially from ourselves.

Jung asks: “How can I be substantial if I fail to cast a shadow?” [1] He makes clear that the unconscious is not bad or evil; it is just hidden from us. Jung describes shadow also as “the source of the highest good: not only dark, but also light; not only bestial, semi-human and demonic, but superhuman, spiritual” [2] and, in Jung’s word, “divine.” That is why we dare not avoid the deep self. Wild beasts and angels reside in the same wilderness, and it takes the Spirit to “drive” us there (see Mark 1:12–13).

The more we are attached to any persona, bad or good, any chosen and preferred self-image, the more shadow self we will have. We absolutely need conflicts, moral failures, defeats to our grandiosity, even seeming enemies. These are necessary mirrors, or we will have no way to ever spot our shadow self. Even if we only catch a glimpse of such shadows, that may offer graced insight and a moment of inner freedom.

Jesus seems to precede Jung and modern depth psychology by two thousand years when he says, “Why do you observe the splinter in your brother’s eye and never notice the plank in your own? How dare you say to your sister or brother, ‘Let me take the splinter out of your eye’ when all the time there is a log in your own? Take the log out of your own eye first, and then you will see clearly enough to take the splinter out of your brother or sister’s eye” (Matthew 7:4–5).

Note that Jesus does not just praise good moral behavior and criticize immoral behavior, as a lesser teacher might. Instead, he talks about something caught in the eye. He knows that if we see rightly, our actions and behaviors will eventually take care of themselves. God wastes nothing and includes everything. The God of the Bible is best known for transmuting and transforming our shadow selves into our own more perfect good. God brings us—often through failure—from unconsciousness to ever-deeper consciousness and conscience. I doubt if there is any other way. All the rest is mere self-validation.

-[1] C. G. Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul (Harcourt, Brace and Company: 1933), 40.

[2] C. G. Jung, The Practice of Psychotherapy: Essays on the Psychology of the Transference, and Other Subjects, trans. by R. F. C. Hull, 2nd ed. (Princeton University Press: 1976), 192.

Adapted from Richard Rohr, Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality (St. Anthony Messenger Press: 2008), 75–76; and

Richard Rohr, Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the Twelve Steps (Franciscan Media: 2001, 2021), 31–33.

TD: "And they chased you?"

"From Chinatown to the I-39."

TD: "Why were they after you?"

"Well, lookit me? Aren't I just deliscious?"

TD: "Yeah, like something from a taco bell dumpster."

"Really though, I know why those cultist shits were after me. Burr."

TD: "That guy that shut down your school?"

"Who else?"

TD: "Well, that's what you get for burning his house down."

"I'll do alot worse the next time I see him."

TD: "Adam, no. Leave it to the people who know what thyey're doing."

"The people who know what they're doing had years to nail this assclown and did nothing. You had your chance, but it's done now. I want payback, dammit."

TD: "Just back off, seriously. This is personal to you, you'll end up letting your emotions take over and you'll just get killed."

"Wow, that the kind of bullshit Wayne feeds you every night before bed?"

TD: "For god sakes Adam, just--"

"I mean really, you think you're gonna do any better when you can't even look Steph in the eye?"

TD: "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Steph saved me on the highway, alright? We talked and I told her about Burr. Of course she didn't believe me or what I said about his shitnozzle son, but--"

TD: "What did you say about Zander?"

"C'mon man, he's one of them."

TD: "...that prep school moron eats women in his spare time? Really?"

"Great, you're just a stupid as she is."

TD: "What?"

"Steph didn't believe me, either. Even though COME THE FUCK ON."

TD: "Just stay out of this Adam. You really don't ewanna get involved."

"No! not until I avenge myself and my school! And more importantly when you and Steph stop bitching at eachother and start working as a team again!"

TD: "That's none of your concern, either. Just stay away from her."

"She's my friend Tim, and so are you. So yeah, this is my concern, because I just want you two happy."

TD: "So you commit arson and damage the city roads? That just makes everyone happy."

"Wow, no wonder you and her are a perfect match. You're both impossible hypocritical douchebags!"

TD: "I don't have time for this..."

"You see this? This is your problems, this is why you're not on Wayne's level and never will be! Even that antisocial fuck knew he needed help, that's why he got you and chives the butler. And lookit how well that's gone for him! But here you and Steph are slowly falling apart and not letting anyone, not even your best goddamn friend help you! And you know what? That's why they call you the sidekicks. Not heroes."

TD: "...get out, Adam."

*CREEEEEK*

*SLAM*

How the hell did Wayne let either of these twats have a costume? Thought it'd be better with Tim but shit....whatever, I'm getting my revenge, dammit. With our without them at my side....

The most perfect and satisfactory reason to shape the hips, is that one can wear whatever women wear AND most important of all, what ever tranny´s dare. This is especially the case where the infamous ”too short skirt” is in consideration and especially as we witness above, when no skirt at all is used and is replaced by, what is known among women as a sweater/cardigan, but is WAY long enough to function as a dress in the T-girl universe.

It is only fair to say in defense of women that this sweater practically IS too short to function as a dress, resulting in potentially embarrassing situations plus one has to constantly pull it down. But what is considered annoying and even embarrassing among women, is considered QUITE sexy and attractive among trannys.

To day I really boosted the hips to the max. - Don't know why really, just felt like trying. But dear spirits what a result. Personally I am a ”leg man” (and woman... I guess...) but I really find hips is almost.. ”part” of that leg attraction.

Feast my eyes on a pair of beautiful legs and if the hips are just as perfect and harmoniously feminine.. trust me, looking further up the body I have VERY little critic what so ever to the rest.

But truly.. if such perfect legs are wearing sexy high heels, invitingly shining soft nylon stockings and a tight short skirt... my mind becomes VERY uncontrollable in its direction and focus, and my heart holds it breath so long, I need to forcefully tell it to breath again.

If women truly knew the power of these things and dared harness it's magic. They would not only hold men enchanted in their grasp, they would rule the world. *LOL* If women united world wide and denied men sex for some demand or reason, men would come crawling, begging within a week, bringing presents along with promises (though empty as they would be) of fulfilling any wish women wanted.

If any hypocrites ever claim that ”men are the strong sex”, know that in truth men are by far the most pitiful and pathetic. It IS no mere coincidence that far more than 9 out of 10 prostitutes on this entire planet are women. Further more if men denied WOMEN sex, demanding something in return, the world would never have heard such magnitudes, volumes and cheerful laughter from women, as women would most likely consider it a an invigorating experience, along side which treat it like a blissful vacation knowing very well men them self would crack up like puddle, before women themselves even get close to the state of being ”spontaneous desperate”.

MONA CALDA (pussy hot) : Allegory of the wicked woman.

Sometimes, I want to get away from this hypocritical world.

IN CORSA PER IL PODIO

Sono in corso a Parigi i trentaquattresimi Giochi Olimpici e da sempre lo spirito è quello della lealtà sportiva fra i partecipanti. Da sempre il motto è "L'importante è partecipare" ma tutti concorrono per un posto sul podio, inutile essere ipocriti.

Macro studiata per il concorso di oggi sul gruppo "Macro Mondays"

--------------------------------------------------------------

RUNNING FOR THE PODIUM

The thirty-fourth Olympic Games are underway in Paris and the spirit has always been one of sportsmanship among the participants. The motto has always been "The important thing is to participate" but everyone is competing for a place on the podium, no point in being hypocritical.

Macro studied for today's competition on the "Macro Mondays" group

CANON EOS 6D Mark II con ob. CANON EF 100 mm f./2,8 L Macro IS USM

Nature is dying, we are poisoning her. That is old news. What is astonishing is the sheer amount of industrialization and decadence exuded by the developed nations, who has the capability and the resources to avoid the fate. Purchasing 'Carbon credits' to 'transfer' the blame is hypocritical.

www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/city-will-be-overthrown-m...

Introduction

It is recorded in the Bible that the Lord Jesus condemned the Pharisees with the seven woes. Nowadays, the path walked by the pastors and elders of the religious world is that of the Pharisees and they similarly suffer God's detestation and rejection. So why did the Lord Jesus condemn and curse the Pharisees? It was primarily because they had a hypocritical essence that defied God, because they only paid attention to performing religious rituals and keeping rules, they only explained the rules and doctrines in the Bible and did not put God's words into practice or follow God's commandments whatsoever, and they even discarded God's commandments. Everything they did completely ran counter to God's will and requirements. This was the hypocritical essence of the Pharisees and it was the primary reason for the Lord Jesus hating and cursing them.

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The above photo - ' Haggs Farm in Summer ' . The small farm on the Barber Estate was a place that D.H.Lawrence always remembered .

The picture was taken on a summer day in 1959.

__________________________________________

Below

Text - ` You Haggites see the Best of Me ! ' - is lecture material text used by Prof.John Worthen of Nottingham University to aid understanding and appreciation of Lawrence's 1928 letter to David Chambers . The text was used as the basis of his lecture to the Haggs Farm Preservation Society's annual David Chambers Memorial Gathering in Eastwood , Nottinghamshire in October of 2003 . )

Note : D.H.Lawrence would refer to the Chambers family as Haggites .

___________________________________

Lecture notes commencing : " What the Haggites did not see - was something Lawrence was very, very aware of all his life - his capacity to be cold, objective and judgemental . "

A picture of D.H.Lawrence when a pupil-teacher and a welcome visitor to the Haggs is on-line in this Flickr photostream .

LECTURE .

" I am very honoured to have been asked to be your J. D. Chambers lecturer this year; I've known the name of Jonathan David Chambers ever since I started looking into Lawrence's life, about forty years ago, and I always depended heavily on his writing about his family and about Jessie as a kind of counterweight to what Jessie herself wrote. To be asked to give this lecture is, to me, to be given an opportunity to speak gratefully and sympathetically in memory of a man whose life's work and life's writing it is natural to honour: and whom oddly I think of personally (though I never knew him) with great respect and affection: I have learned so much from him.

I'm very conscious of the possibilities lurking in my title, `Ah, you Haggites see the best of me!' Lawrence said it (according to Jessie) more than once: he said it `whimsically': and it leaves me not only with the question `why was that? why did they see the best of him?' but with the more worrying question `so what was Lawrence like when you didn't see the best of him?'

I am going to start by looking again at one of the famous documents of Lawrence's relationship with the Chambers family: the letter he wrote on 15 November 1928 about the Haggs - wrote it, of course, to J. D. Chambers himself. This is what Lawrence wrote, from the island of Port Cros in the Mediterranean:

Quote : " Dear David

Postscript : Lawrence gives a postscript with his London agent's address.

However lovely the letter, whenever I read it I am struck all over again by the kind of powerful, overpowering, even devouring, nostalgia in it, of a kind in which Lawrence very, very rarely engaged (I can only actually think of one other example: it doesn't even occur in his writing about the ranch, which he regretted long and deeply. ). The letter is also fascinating for what it leaves out: for example, any mention of Jessie Chambers: or even actually saying how dearly Lawrence still remembered the Chambers family. He says in Italian - and not many of the family, if any, would have understood that - that there are times past: how dear, you will never know. Which he couldn't say in English. I do find that odd.

The lack of reference to Jessie is very striking. It was perhaps tactful; he couldn't have helped realising that how he had treated her, even so long ago, might still be a sore subject in the Chambers family, who must have seen him - for a while at least - as someone who had in effect been engaged to Jessie, and who had then abandoned her for another woman. (I'm not saying that that was what had happened: but that was how they might well have seen it.) The family understood the letter well enough, of course: enough not to dare to tell Jessie what he had written. They only told her about that letter the week after his death in 1930. They were right. She confessed on 10 March 1930 that if she had known about it, `I could not have kept from writing [to him]. But they never told me until now.'

But why did Lawrence swear such undying love for the place and the moment, and the memories, in that letter, not having (so far as I know) written anything enthusiastic about the Haggs for 15 years?

I want to do two things. The first is, to sketch in quickly an account of Lawrence's relationship with the Haggs and the Chambers family: and then to examine that letter in the context of what Lawrence was feeling and writing in 1928.

In the early 1890s, the Chambers family were living along Greenhills Lane near the Breach (while the Lawrences were living there). The father, Edmund Chambers, a native of Eastwood (his father, `Pawny Chambers', and mother had run a pawnbroker's shop), had a smallholding and a milk round in Eastwood. Edmund's wife Ann was, like Lydia Lawrence, a stranger in Eastwood, and a woman who never seems to have been especially happy there; she struck up acquaintance with Lydia Lawrence at the Chapel in Albert Street. Both of them disliked the mining communities to which their husbands had brought them, and J. D. Chambers would later suggest that they `found in the Chapel . . . the only place in which they felt really at home in an otherwise alien world'.

The Chambers family went out to the Haggs in 1898, and Lydia Lawrence had a standing invitation to visit them, but it was not until the early summer of 1901 that she and Lawrence first followed the field paths out there, on a half holiday in his last the early summer term at the High School: he a `tall, fair boy' with a `swiftly changing expression', she a `bright, vivacious little woman'. Those are the words of May Chambers, always an acid commentator, who recognised how the Lawrences came `from the bricks and mortar of streets of houses where bay windows and front room furniture and new clothes were so very important'. That was the world which some at least of the Chambers family prided themselves on having left, but which the Lawrences had risen into: the bay-window in Walker Street, the suite of mahogany and horse-hair chairs, the Brussels carpet rather than the usual rag rugs of the miner's house, the mahogany chiffonier and the oval table. But whereas Lydia Lawrence had always fought the dominating male figures of her world, whether her father or her husband, or her sons, Ann Chambers felt dominated by her men-folk; she had had her last child at the age of thirty-nine and would `shudder when the subject of sex was mentioned'. Mrs Morel, on an equivalent visit to the farm in Sons and Lovers, pities her friend: `I'm sorry for her, and I'm sorry for him too.'

Lawrence's joy in going to the Haggs was not only, however, a reaction against the ugliness, narrowness or conventionality of his home in Eastwood. Lawrence first made friends with the two younger boys, Hubert and Bernard, and then with Alan; years later he would tell a friend that the nearest he had ever come to `perfect love' had been at the age of `about sixteen', with another boy, which would be before September 1902. He was certainly thinking of one of the Chambers' boys: I am almost sure he meant Alan. May was in the middle of a prolonged adolescent extraction of herself from her family, and rejected the High School boy's offer of help with her homework; but the younger daughter, Jessie, seems to have been drawn to Lawrence from the start. Although his relationship with her would develop into one of the most important of his young life, when he first started going to the Haggs regularly in 1902 she was no more than a rather immature fifteen. He was both better read and better educated, as well as eighteen months older, and did not spend much time with her. Her reaction to being surrounded by brothers who were physically active, and rather contemptuous of her, had been to shut herself away in a world of her own in which she was the heroine of poetry and romance; her younger brothers despised this and `took delight' - again, J. D. says this - `in bursting in on her rhapsodical moods and shattering her poetical day-dreams in a wild scrimmage of slaps and bangs'. J. D. remembered her, though, as `equal to anybody'; nearly as tall as her elder brother Alan, as photographs show, she was equally broad-shouldered; solidly built, disciplined, dedicated, yearning. J. D. also recalled how she would stand up to her younger brothers: she would `wind a scarf round each fist and challenge them both to a fight'. Her `lighter moods', however, were rare. More often, she was simply angry with boys and men for bossing her about or ignoring her. By contrast with her brothers, Lawrence was someone serious; the realisation seems to have come around 1903, when he and she found themselves talking increasingly, and Lawrence entered her life as the person she believed would save her from her family. Eventually he offered to teach her; and together they worked on the very subjects, `algebra and French', which distinguished ordinary education from advanced. (You will remember Paul Morel being ribbed by a miner on pay day for doing nowt at school except `algìbbra an' French', and thoroughly resenting it. ) This was the period of Lawrence's intense attachment to the Haggs. He's coming up to nineteen years old.

III

But it is hard to overestimate how important the Haggs family was for Lawrence, both before and after he became close to Jessie. The coincidence of his return to life in the spring and summer of 1902, after the illness of the winter of 1901 in which he had nearly died, with this discovery of another family to which he eagerly turned, and individuals whom he loved, strongly suggests the extent to which he was reacting against the intimacy of home and mother which made such demands on him in Eastwood. Not for the last time in his life, a passionate emotional involvement (in this case with his mother) had grown up in Lawrence simultaneously with a powerful desire to break away from the very object of his love. What many, even most people feel to some extent, in love and relationship, about attachment and a need for some distance, Lawrence lived through with an intensity that was surprising and often shocking. The way he turned to the Chambers family around 1902-03 is perhaps its first clear instance.

For the laughter, anger, outbursts and loud quarrels of the Chambers family would have felt very different from the moralising, critical and emotionally stifling atmosphere of Walker Street. In Eastwood Lawrence was up against a household dominated by women: his mother and Ada (and until her marriage Emily), with his father largely absent or silenced. The Haggs Farm offered a simpler, old-fashioned world, in which men took precedence if they could, and women argued back: were not simply morally superior. The Chambers boys looked down on their sisters and tried to order them about; the girls fiercely resisted. But, for adolescents in particular, other people's families are nearly always easier to deal with than their own. The Chambers family probably felt more emotionally secure to Lawrence because of their constant quarrels, their overt affections, their singing and boisterous intimacy, their jokes and laughter: `He used to say that our laughter was Homeric.' He `made us even happy with one another while he was there, - no small achievement in a family like ours!'

From 1902 to 1906, he discovered how much and how happily he could be `at home' there. Ann Chambers loved him `like one of her own', and he loved her; he was clearly devoted to Alan; and with the Chambers family he could be the lively and cheerful son he found it so much more difficult to be at home. It is never too late to have a happy childhood; and Lawrence found his at the Haggs. He could be an exhilarating companion, and probably first discovered this, too, at the uninhibited Haggs. Nearly fifty years later May recalled `Bert with his mischievous grin': his vivacity, his sense of adventure, his capacity for games and mimicry and fun were what he brought to them.

It all feels to me rather like Arthur Lawrence escaping Lydia Lawrence, and leaving behind the strictness of home and its moral absolutes for the country, and the mine, and the `wholesome happiness' of uncritical companionship. May Chambers's fiancé Will Holbrook recalled how Lawrence `loved to come where he could do and say just what he pleased, even to using strong language to win his point'. That's Arthur, unrepressed. And it was at the Haggs that Lawrence seemed most like his father. He sang with the family (his father had been in the choir of St James's Church at Brinsley as a boy), and he also demonstrated how he could dance `in our little kitchen, and once while we paused for breath he said: “Father says one ought to be able to dance on a threepenny bit”.' Jessie, knowing Lawrence's hatred of his father, was surprised at that little revelation; but Lawrence also demonstrated to the Chambers' family his talent (his father's too) for mimicry. One set piece was a long-drawn-out row between his father and his mother, about a ham which Arthur had brought home and then stopping payment for it each week out of the housekeeping money; in the end the story took Arthur's side (`Woman, how'd tha feaace') and reduced its listeners to uproarious helplessness. J. D. Chambers, again, remembered: `I think everyone loved him at this time; he combined with his vivacity a sweetness of disposition that was quite irresistible.'

It was hardly surprising that his mother and his sisters grew jealous of his constant visits. Very soon after he started going, he confessed to May Chambers that, though he wanted to come one Saturday, `They won't let me'; while Jessie recalled: `He told us rather shamefacedly that his mother said he might as well pack his things and come and live with us.' Mothers always say things like that. The Lawrences naturally resented his concentration on a family so unlike themselves; and they would in the end come to be deeply suspicious of the amount of time he and Jessie spent together (it was a way of focussing their disapproval of the Haggs). Lawrence was acutely aware of their disapproval but commented, sadly, `If it wasn't this, it would be something else.' They'd always be morally critical of something. Emily once even insisted on coming out to the Haggs with him, to see what was so special about it, but all she found memorable was `that awful walk'.

These visits to the Haggs remained a problem for years; the fact that Lawrence kept going shows how necessary they were for him. In Eastwood, he felt valued and centred at home. But home for him never simply meant being cherished and sustained by a mother's love: it was also a terrible strain, growing up the beloved son of Lydia Lawrence, and carrying for her the burden of her unhappiness and her anger with her husband and what she felt was the waste of her own life.

Between 1902 and 1906, then, Lawrence lived a kind of double life: hard at work in Eastwood during the week, as a model son, pupil, teacher and family member, but going out to the Haggs every weekend. It was the period in his life when, perhaps above all else, the Haggs offered both devotion and companionship in equal measure: something for which he went on looking for the rest of his life. We can hear it in that letter of November 1928: `Then I'd sit on the sofa under the window, and we'd crowd round the little table to tea, in that tiny little kitchen I was so at home in.'

Let me come back to the letter. The context in which it was written helps us understand quite a lot about it. Lawrence and Frieda had left the Villa Mirenda near Florence in June 1928 and spent July and August at altitude in Switzerland - where they were visited by Peggy and her mother Emily. Lawrence had actually had a wretched summer, with small bronchial haemorrhages continuing: the place they'd chosen to go to, Gsteig bei Gstaad, at 4,000 feet, was incredibly steep in all directions. Once up there, in the chalet Kesselmatte, Lawrence was in effect marooned: and they were there for more than two months, over July and August down to September. Finally, they came down; they went to see Frieda's mother in Baden-Baden; and while there the Lawrences finally decided to give up the Villa Mirenda, their current home near Florence. Although they had at first enjoyed living there, the Mirenda was now irresistibly linked in Lawrence's mind with his bronchial haemorrhages of July 1927. Places he associated with illness (like Oaxaca and Mexico City, and now Florence) he never wanted to go back to, so he was now convinced that the Mirenda `didn't suit my health'. Frieda returned to the Mirenda to see to the packing up of their belongings; Lawrence waited for her in the Mediterranean port of Le Lavandou. They had been invited for the winter to the island of Port Cros, where old friends - Richard Aldington, his partner `Arabella' (Dorothy) Yorke and Brigit Patmore - had acquired a house. This must have particularly appealed to Lawrence, after the failure of altitude to do him any good: sea air, the Mediterranean, would surely be better.

Aldington was, however, both malicious and discreet when he commented that Frieda's task of giving up the Mirenda was `a complicated process, since it involved a journey to Trieste'. Frieda had seen rather little of Angelo Ravagli (now stationed at Gradisca, near Trieste) since April, and it is my understanding that - by now - she had started her affair with him: perhaps around April 1928. In Le Lavandou, therefore, Lawrence could do nothing except sit and wait for her.

La Vigie was the house at the top of the island of Port Cros: another place with the most marvellous view, of the kind that Lawrence chose to live in, time after time. But his health was, by the autumn of 1928, a real problem. The steepness of the road from the harbour up to La Vigie meant that he was `perched, as at Kesselmatte', and could not go with the others when they went down to go swimming each afternoon. Aldington would listen to Lawrence's `dreadful hollow cough at night, and wonder what on earth I should do if he got worse'; they agreed that one of them should always stay with him when the rest of the party went off for the day or the afternoon. Frieda had come back from Italy (and Ravagli) with a cold, which of course poor Lawrence instantly caught. He also had `two days hemorrhage' and felt `rather rotten': `this is worse than the Mirenda', he found himself thinking.

It was while they were on the island, too, that Lawrence got a letter from his agent, which included the responses to Lady Chatterley which had appeared in the English press during the autumn. There were at least two: a piece in the Sunday Chronicle, and John Bull's notorious review. These had both appeared in mid-October. This is Brigit Patmore's account:

`My God!' one of us gave a shout. `Here, in this one, Lorenzo, one of them calls you a cesspool!'

He made a grimace which might have been a smile or slight nausea.

`Really? One's fellow creatures are too generous. It's quite worth while giving of one's best, isn't it?' Then, as if speaking to himself, `Nobody likes being called a cesspool.'

But various things were going wrong at La Vigie, apart from Lawrence's illness and those reviews, and the fact that Lawrence would now have known for certain that Frieda was having an affair with Ravagli. It was at La Vigie that Aldington - partnered to Arabella Yorke for ten years - would start an affair with Brigit Patmore, and both the Lawrences sided with Arabella, of whom they were very fond. Lawrence ended up violently angry with Aldington: and the party broke up months earlier than originally planned. But worst of all, Lawrence was thoroughly depressed and miserable on Port Cros. One afternoon when the three others were off swimming - they all bathed, Aldington recalled with relish more than thirty years later, `naked daily together on one of the plages of Port-Cros, and then lay in the sun' - Lawrence told Brigit Patmore (staying with him that afternoon) a little about his desolation: `When you think you have something in your life which makes up for everything, and then find you haven't got it.' She tried to tell him that his writing had mattered immensely to her in re-establishing her own sense of herself after she had been ill; but found she was only making matters worse. He replied: `Yes. Once I could do that. But I can't any more.' In the past, he could convey his experience of the body and its desires directly in his writing. He felt that that no longer happened; such writing was now inevitably either nostalgic or reminiscent.

And it was at just this point that the letter from J. D. Chambers came, and Lawrence wrote the famous response. Its nostalgia - for a time when he was well, active, young, hopeful - is palpable, and inevitably added to by many of the things that were happening round him. Its desperately nostalgic reminiscence of the old days - `whatever else I am, I am somewhere still the same Bert who rushed with such joy to the Haggs' - is that of a man who had left all that terribly far behind him, and who must have wondered whether he really was the same Bert any more. It's an odd formulation: `Whatever else I am' - as if he feared that he had indeed changed, into something he didn't like much. He actually uses the technique twice in the letter: `whatever else I am' and `Whatever I forget': suggesting that there was also a lot that he would forget, if he could.

What is most remarkable, however, is how the letter keeps stressing how much at home he was at the Haggs. The whole subject of `home' is central in Lawrence's life and writing. On the one hand, he would, so to speak, come home repeatedly in his writing, as he recreated the people and the landscapes of the Eastwood region, even when living and writing hundreds of miles away: acknowledging how intimately he belonged to his family and its loving mother, even as he wrote his way out of it (declaring that he rejected any idea of home, or love, and hated Eastwood and the past). But belonging to `home' was always intensely problematic for him. Frieda `craved for a home and solidity': Lawrence insisted he never did. Back in August 1923, about to sail to England with Frieda from New York, he told Murry that, now it came to it, he could not bear the thought of `England and home and my people': and he did not go. When he eventually did, in December, one of the first things he did was write the caustic essay `On Coming Home' for Murry's Adelphi. In 1925, he insisted that coming back to England was not `coming home': `I won't say home, it isn't home.' And when he was finally back in 1925, and had seen the Midlands again, he had written, despairingly, `Nothing depresses me more than to come home to the place where I was born.'

So, in 1928, where was Lawrence now at home? He and Frieda had, literally, just given up their home at the Mirenda; they had no home. And though he was with a group of friends at Port Cros, he still felt horribly isolated and cut off. The Haggs farm had been one of the very few places in Lawrence's life where he had felt at home, and he never forgot it: now it felt as if it were the home he wanted to be in, as opposed to the Eastwood family home to which he belonged and continued to fight with himself about (and which he was still resenting in 1928). He had actually reacted badly to that visit from Emily and Peggy to Gsteig a couple of months earlier: Emily had, for example, called him `our Bert', thus claiming him for the family: but he insisted that `I am not really “our Bert”. Come to that, I never was.' He had once been, for sure; but (I agree) he was so no longer. On the other hand, he was sadly struck by the gulf between him and his sister, `always yawning, horribly obvious to me': `somehow it depresses me terribly'.

For in another mood from the one in which he wrote to J. D. Chambers, he would have rejected the whole idea of home, or feeling nostalgic about the past. On his last visit to England, a couple of years earlier, in September 1926, he had been for a walk with Willie Hopkin, and they had come in sight of the Haggs. We can reconstruct what happened then from what Hopkin remembered, and from what Lawrence used of that walk in the second version of Lady Chatterley's Lover, where Connie and Parkin also come in view of the Haggs, on the last page of the novel. They stop `above the grey-green country. Across was Haggs Farm. Beyond, Underwood, the mining village and the mines.' And the narrator comments: `Dead as Ninevah . . . the mill-ponds at Felley lying so still, abandoned, abandoned like everything that is not coal or iron, away below. The dead country-side!' Hopkin and Lawrence, however, went even closer; and Hopkin watched Lawrence when they got to Felley:

he stood still and looked across to the Haggs. I went and sat by the pond. After a few minutes I turned and looked at him. He stood stiffly as a statue, and there was an expression of dreadful pain on his face. After a while he told me to come along. For ten minutes he never spoke a word, and then he broke out into a lot of brilliant nonsense. As we neared his old house [the Lynn Croft house, perhaps, but possibly the Walker Street house] he never gave it a glance. I asked when he was coming over again. His reply was “Never! I hate the damned place.”

In another version of his account of their time at Felley, as Lawrence stood looking across to the Haggs, Hopkin wrote how `I have seen sadness on many a face, but nothing like Lawrence's at that moment.'

This is especially interesting in the light of that letter to J. D. Chambers. The warmth of the Haggs family and the time there glowed all the more vividly in November 1928 not only because of the weakened physical state in which Lawrence now existed, but because it was tantalising as an idea of what belonging to a group of people, at home happily together, might after all be like: and because it also made him despair (`whatever else I might be . . . whatever I forget'). He had spent his life fighting away from love, especially familial warmth and love: he had always insisted he did not want it. But now, on Port Cros, at all times living the life of an invalid, cut off from the lively everyday concerns of the people he was with, with those reviews of Lady Chatterley reminding him how much hatred was waiting for him in England, he must have felt more torn between home and a lonely present than ever. The reaction between belonging and independence was very actual to him. He didn't go swimming naked every day on Port Cros: he wasn't one of the crowd. And he was more cut off from Frieda than he had been, since 1912: in one way, he really was on his own again. Well, he had always wanted to be independent. But oh to be nineteen again . . . Thinking about the Haggs thus took on an intense nostalgia not just for the Haggs but for something missing in his life: call it home, or family, or warmth, or love.

His response to J. D. Chambers tells us, in fact, a great deal more about Lawrence in 1928 than about the Lawrence of 1904 (when he was nineteen). Both the nostalgic joy and the despair underlying the letter belong to that very difficult complex of feelings around home, and belonging, and being independent, cold and detached, which had gone on in him since he was a teenager.

So what had he meant, so many years earlier, when he had said to the Chambers family, `Ah, you Haggites see the best of me'? What was it that he was all too aware of, but which they didn't see? What would it have been like to see the worst of him? What was the worst of him?

We all get involved in the myths of our own lives; we start to enact the feelings which we ought to have had; the feelings we tell ourselves we should have had, because this WAS a time of sheer, unalloyed joy, this time at the Haggs. But there was a side of Lawrence, as he very well knew, which was utterly different from his loveable, loving, nostalgic side. It's horribly easy to show this. Almost exactly eleven months before writing the letter to J. D. Chambers, Lawrence had written - for the early experience of Mellors in Lady Chatterley's Lover - an account of a relationship which in its details is taken exactly from Lawrence's experience of Jessie, as he had known her at the Haggs between 1902 and 1910. How could the person who could write with such nostalgia and love about the Haggs, and his feelings about it, also have written this?

I'll tell you . . . The first girl I had, I began with when I was sixteen . . . I was a supposed-to-be clever sort of young fellow from Sheffield Grammar School [for which read Nottingham High School], with a bit of French and German, very much up aloft. She was the romantic sort that hated commonness. She egged me on to poetry and reading: in a way, she made a man of me. I read and thought like a house on fire for her. And I was a clerk in Butterley Offices, then, white-faced fellow fuming with all the things I read. And about everything talked to her: but everything. We talked ourselves into Persepolis and Timbuctoo. We were the most literary-cultured couple in ten counties. I held forth with rapture to her, positively with rapture. I simply went up in smoke. And she adored me. - The serpent in the grass was sex. She somehow didn't have any - at least, not where it's supposed to be. I got thinner and crazier. Then I said we'd got to be lovers. I talked her into it, as usual. So she let me. I was excited, and she never wanted it. She just didn't want it. She adored me, she loved me to talk to her and kiss her: in that way, she had a passion for me. But the other, she just didn't want . . . And it was just the other that I did want. So there we split. I was cruel, and left her.

Yes, this is a novel. But the novel is taking a piece of autobiography and re-creating it, to make it something both absurd and cruel. In one way it's a monstrous lie: all the warmth and tenderness and love and inexperience of these years, what Jessie called `those years of devotion', being summed up and dismissed so crudely. If Jessie ever read that - and I fear that she probably did - then I think she would have been as hurt by it as she was by Sons and Lovers.

What the Haggites did not see was what Lawrence was very, very aware of all his life: his capacity to be cold, objective, judgemental: the very opposite of that warmly, richly emotional person he was in the letter to J. D. Chambers. I am not saying that the letter to J. D. Chambers was somehow hypocritical: no, it reproduces something very important in Lawrence, a desperate need for home and warmth and belonging and love. But that meets its match, if you like, in the cold paragraph of scorn from Mellors: which says `what a fool I was' and `what a waste of time that period was'. That is another of Lawrence's voices: I must say that I hear a maternal voice in it. It's not what the Haggites saw: the best of him: which was young, and so hopeful and loving. It was certainly hard for the young Lawrence to show the best of himself: but with them he managed to.

The Chambers family never forgot him: when he died in 1930, `We all, as a family, mourn him, for the memories of old days were unspeakably dear to us all.' Lawrence himself never forgot, perhaps never got over, his experience of the Haggs. It was the model for the occasions, time after time, when he tried to create a life, often in the country with a group of other people: at San Gaudenzio in 1913, in Zennor in 1916, at the ranch in 1922, at the Mirenda in 1926. In a life so full of radical changes, it was vitally important to him that, somehow, neither he nor the Haggs should change: meaning that he, too, could somehow remain that sociable and loving person, although he obviously had changed, and was now capable of such detachment, such control, such cold difference. The remark `I am somewhere still the same Bert who rushed with such joy to the Haggs' was nostalgic about himself too: he needed to go on being that person: needed to be the person the Haggites would go on seeing the best of, even in 1928. "

Lecture by John Worthen , Eastwood : 18th October , 2003

[Note - Lenton Sands and the Haggs Farm Preservation Society is grateful to Prof.Worthen for permitting the use of his material . The text was originally placed on-line as part of the now defunct "dhltohaggs" Geocities website of the Haggs farm Preservation Society . ]

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THE TENANTS OF THE HAGGS .

Both the original dwellings were in the range of buildings now known as Old Haggs farmhouse. The first residents were the Anthony and Leivers families, the tenancy of the various generations being documented (from Melbourne estate records & other sources) as follows:- Leivers 1805 to 1821Alice (widow of John) : 1821 to 1836 Joseph (son of John) : 1837 to 1865 (son of Joseph) : 1866 to 1874 Anthony James :1805 Samuel (son of James) : 1817 to 1864 .

After Samuel's death, the tenancy was granted to George Turner who had married the widowed Mary Ann Moss, daughter of Samuel 1866 to 1879.In 1879 Turner was replaced as tenant by John Whittaker and due to the dilapidated state of this part of the property, it was decided to build a new cottage and convert the old dwelling to outbuildings for stock. The new cottage is what is known as New Haggs and from this time the tenancies of the 2 farms can most clearly be shown separately. Old Haggs John Leivers 1878 to 1898\par Edmund Chambers 1898 to 1912 George Ward 1912 to 1936 W Fry 1936 to1941 Albert Rigley 1941 to 1947 Frank Wilson 1949 to 1963 New Haggs John Whitaker 1879 to 1892 William Pearson 1892 to 1916 Albert Granger\b0\par 1916 to 1937\par \par \b H Whitehead\b0\par 1938 to 1941 Henry Clay 1945\par \par \b Alfred Maggs 1946 Albert Rigley,1947 to 1979

“The time of a man's life is as a point; the substance of it ever flowing, the sense obscure; and the whole composition of the body tending to corruption. His soul is restless, fortune uncertain, and fame doubtful; to be brief, as a stream so are all things belonging to the body; as a dream, or as a smoke, so are all that belong unto the soul. Our life is a warfare, and a mere pilgrimage. Fame after life is no better than oblivion. What is it then that will adhere and follow? Only one thing, philosophy. And philosophy doth consist in this, for a man to preserve that spirit which is within him, from all manner of contumelies and injuries, and above all pains or pleasures; never to do anything either rashly, or feignedly, or hypocritically: only to depend from himself, and his own proper actions: all things that happen unto him to embrace contentendly, as coming from Him from whom he himself also came; and above all things, with all meekness and a calm cheerfulness, to expect death, as being nothing else but the resolution of those elements, of which every creature is composed. And if the elements themselves suffer nothing by their perpetual conversion of one into another, that dissolution, and alteration, which is so common unto all, why should it be feared by any? Is not this according to nature? But nothing that is according to nature can be evil.”

― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations