View allAll Photos Tagged morality
en.godfootsteps.org/videos/word-to-have-an-unchanged-disp...
Introduction
Almighty God says, "Born into such a filthy land, man has been severely blighted by society, he has been influenced by feudal ethics, and he has been taught at “institutes of higher learning.” The backward thinking, corrupt morality, mean view on life, despicable philosophy, utterly worthless existence, and depraved lifestyle and customs—all of these things have severely intruded upon man’s heart, and severely undermined and attacked his conscience. As a result, man is ever more distant from God, and ever more opposed to Him. Man’s disposition becomes more vicious by the day, and there is not a single person who will willingly give up anything for God, not a single person who will willingly obey God, nor, moreover, a single person who will willingly seek the appearance of God. Instead, under the domain of Satan, man does nothing but pursue pleasure, giving himself over to the corruption of the flesh in the land of mud. Even when they hear the truth, those who live in darkness give no thought to putting it into practice, nor are they inclined to seek out God even if they have beheld His appearance. How could a mankind so depraved have any chance of salvation? How could a mankind so decadent live in the light?"
Eastern Lightning, The Church of Almighty God was created because of the appearance and work of Almighty God, the second coming of the Lord Jesus, Christ of the last days. It is made up of all those who accept Almighty God's work in the last days and are conquered and saved by His words. It was entirely founded by Almighty God personally and is led by Him as the Shepherd. It was definitely not created by a person. Christ is the truth, the way, and the life. God's sheep hear God's voice. As long as you read the words of Almighty God, you will see God has appeared.
This stylised portrait in fragments is the second of my little tributes today. One of the seminal books of the past 30 years was written by a Polish sociologist, exiled from his home country during the Communist crackdown in 1968. Zygmunt Bauman (1925-2017) was a strong advocate for true people's democracy and he was never afraid to speak the truth to power. His subjects ranged on the changing nature of morality in a postmodern society, the brokenness of so many people and their cultures left in the wake of the so-called economic success of globalisation, the rise of anti-Semitism and violence, and how we should deal with strangers.
In his book "Life in Fragments" (1995) he wanted to explore ways individuals fragmented by the changing pace of life and the sheer "liquidity" of the postmodern situation could come together and form real social bonds beyond the traditional structures of the nation state or religious and racial identity. Bauman is the sort of writer you'll never sum up in neat quotes. Once you read him you have to engage in his whole argument. But I will leave you with one thought-provoking comment that is particularly apposite during this time of rolling lock downs:
"It is because of our loneliness that we open up to the Other and allow the Other to open up to us. It is because of our loneliness (which is only belied, not overcome, by the hubbub of the being-with) that we turn into moral selves. And it is only through allowing the togetherness its possibilities which only the future can disclose that we stand a chance of acting morally, and sometimes even of being good, in the present." (p. 71.
One of the final interviews with sociologist Zygmunt Bauman "Social Media are a Trap":
english.elpais.com/elpais/2016/01/19/inenglish/1453208692...
Ray tagged me, so I had to upload a pic of myself and write 16 facts about me:
1. I have a bad temper, but it usuallly takes lots to make me show it (and then I become Shrek, as Santi says).
2. I tend to be very diplomatic and respectful, but people who don't respect others make my diplomacy disapppear in the blink of an eye.
3. If I don't sleep much my sense of humour gets weirder and I become grumpy. Let me sleep for a while and I'll be really fine.
4. I snore really loudly, I pity anyone who has to sleep near me (or in nearby rooms).
5. I have a sweet tooth, so I like cooking and baking at home when I have some spare time (especially pies, cakes, cookies...)
6. I'm a chocoholic.
7. I love the time I spend with my friends, but I really need (a lot of) time for myself.
8. I love reading and listening to music, and for me it's more a vice than a hobby. Wherever I may go, there will always be at least one book in my suitcase.
9. I read as much as I reread.
10. I've read many more comic books as an adult than in my childhood-teenager years.
11. I'm a baptized Catholic, and a non-practicing one for several decades. I don't like the double morality of the Catholic Church in many matters (especially about children abuse).
12. I used to be very shy when a teenager, it took me a great effort to talk to someone I had just met.
13. I guess I'm the clown of the family (a honour I share with my cousin Irene). When we've sat together at family gatherings we (and our relatives sitting close by) haven't been able to eat much because we've spent most of the time laughing.
14. I can't walk slowly, if I do my feet start aching too much. It always looks like I'm in a hurry, so some people call me "the roadrunner".
15. I prefer winter to summer, I can't stand the heat. But then I also love the blue skies that come with summer...
16. I've never got drunk, don't smoke and I've never tried drugs... That makes me a bit boring?
Ray me ha "marcado", así que tenía que subir una foto mía y contar 16 cosas sobre mí:
1. Tengo mal genio, pero hace falta bastante para hacerme estallar (y luego me convierto en Shrek, como dice Santi).
2. Tiendo a ser diplomático y respetuoso, pero la gente que no respeta a otros hace que mi diplomacia desaparezca en un abrir y cerrar de ojos.
3. Si no duermo mucho mi sentido del humor se vuelve más ácido y me vuelvo gruñón. Déjame dormir un poco y estaré estupendamente.
4. Ronco mucho y muy fuerte, pobre del que tenga que dormir cerca (o en habitaciones cercanas).
5. Soy muy goloso, así que me encanta la repostería y practico en casa en cuanto tengo un rato.
6. Soy adicto al chocolate.
7. Me encanta pasar tiempo con mis amigos, pero también necesito (mucho) tiempo para mí mismo.
8. Me encanta leer y escuchar música, y para mí son más vicios que aficiones. Vaya donde vaya siempre habrá al menos un libro en mi maleta.
9. Leo tanto como releo.
10. He leído muchos más cómics siendo adulto de los que leí en mi infancia-adolescencia.
11. Soy católico, aunque no practicante. No me gusta la doble moralidad de la Iglesia Católica en muchos asuntos (particularmente en lo que abusos a menores se refiere).
12. Solía ser muy tímido en mi adolescencia, me suponía un gran esfuerzo hablar con alguien a quien acababa de conocer.
13. Creo que soy el payaso de la familia (un honor que comparto con mi prima Irene). Cuando nos hemos sentado juntos en reuniones familiares casi no hemos comido (ni los que estaban a nuestro alrededor) porque nos estábamos partiendo de risa.
14. No sé andar despacio, si lo hago me duelen los pies. Siempre parece que tengo prisa, así que a veces me llaman "correcaminos".
15. Prefiero el invierno al verano, no aguanto el calor. Por otra parte me encantan los cielos azules de verano.
16. Nunca me he emborrachado, no fumo y nuca he probado las drogas... ¿Eso me convierte en un aburrido?
Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.
Soren Kierkegaard.
Søren Aabye Kierkegaard (5 May 1813 – 11 November 1855) was a Danish philosopher, theologian, poet, social critic and religious author who is widely considered to be the first existentialist philosopher. He wrote critical texts on organized religion, Christendom, morality, ethics, psychology, and the philosophy of religion, displaying a fondness for metaphor, irony and parables. Much of his philosophical work deals with the issues of how one lives as a "single individual", giving priority to concrete human reality over abstract thinking and highlighting the importance of personal choice and commitment. He was against literary critics who defined idealist intellectuals and philosophers of his time, and thought that Swedenborg, Hegel, Goethe, Fichte, Schelling, Schlegel and Hans Christian Andersen were all "understood" far too quickly by "scholars" Source Wikipedia.
"how the mother is to be pitied who hath handsome daughters! locks, bolts, bars, and lectures of morality are nothing to them: they break through them all. they have as much pleasure in cheating a father and mother, as in cheating at cards."
~ john gay
(43/365, a year of portraits)
awesome texture by overthemoon
According to Thai cosmology, Sumeru Mountain is considered the pillar of the world as well as the center as the universe. The mountain, supported stays above the surface of the water. lt is the residence of spirits ranging from deities in heaven to devils in hell. The beings living by the mountainside also include humans, nagas, garudas. ogres. ogresses and yogis Each of them is distinguished by wisdom morality
On the top of the lofty mountain the heaven called Tavatimsa where trai Trueng City is located The city is believed be the kingdom of gods where Sakka or Indra is the king Indra’s most important responsibility is to protect the serenity of the world community his divine kingship is a result of the merit he had made during his past lives.
Sakka lives in a castle called Phaichayon Maha Prasat (Phai chayon great grand palace). In the center of the castle stands the heavenly throne, namely Bandu Kamplhon, which will turn stiff when the world falls into disastrous catastrophe. Learnirng the situation, Indra will come down from heaven to help save his people on earth.
Sumeru Mountain is surrounded by an ocean, called Nathi Si Thandorn, while the Himavant Forest and Anodata Pond are at the toot of the mountan. Four springs which ane illustrated by the faces of 4 different animals including the lion, elephant, horse and ox are located at the 4 cardinal points of the pond Through the ox spring only, the water flows from the pond into the ocean
✌️🌏🌲[Three Fingers Pines]✌️🌏🌲
So Kidds!
There is a new SiFi sim in town!
My old friend Kitten Caboose from those cool peeps over at The Grove Art Center has created this unique futuristic environment, really well laid out with some superb details.
I was lucky enough get to do a shoot in the Kidd way going BIG, last week. While my interpretation strays from the builders intended storyline a tad, I had a blast making my frames!
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The Sims Story Per the creator:
The story of Three Finger Pines:
Once a thriving, green world, the planet Seva was rich with towering flora. But centuries of unchecked consumerism, pollution, and climate collapse shattered its natural balance. The soil turned sterile; the skies choked with toxins.
The Seravarian race emerged from this collapse, desperate to save what remained of their dying world. They launched a small fleet of ships into the galaxy, searching for planets with atmospheres that echoed their lost home. One such vessel crash-landed on Earth—deep within an isolated region of Canada’s boreal forest known as Three Finger Pines.
Remote and largely untouched, Three Finger Pines is a land of towering pines, sprawling wetlands, and near-complete isolation. To the Seravarians, it was a living memory of what Seva once was.
They have not come to resettle Earth, but to learn from its biosystem. By studying the region’s genetic blueprints—its plants, spores, and soil—they hope to unlock the secrets needed to reawaken Seva’s long-lost ecosystem.
✌️🌏🌲[Three Fingers Pines Flickr Group]✌️🌏🌲
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Sim Rules are more than reasonable, read the NC upon arrival, This is a very photo friendly build, group rezz allowed. Best if viewed in Ultra graphics setting.
Honest this is a refreshing top shelf superb build!
Peace Out
Kidd
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🎼[Planet Claire (The B 52's)] 🎼
She came from Planet Claire
I knew she came from there
She drove a Plymouth Satellite
A-faster than the speed of light
Planet Claire has pink air
All the trees are red
No one ever dies there
No one has a head
Some say she's from Mars
Or one of the seven stars that shine after three-thirty in the morning
Well, she isn't!
She came from Planet Claire
She came from Planet Claire
She came from Planet Claire
- Cindy Wilson / Fred Schneider / Henry Mancini / Kate Pierson / Keith Strickland / Ricky Wilson
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🐕 💝 1095 Days 💝 🐈
💗 Hope 💗
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It's Not A Debate of Policy, It Is A Question Of Morality
To"wag the dog" means to distract attention away from a political scandal, often through military action.
16 Million Americans just lost their health insurance so Billionaires can have a tax cut.
FYI I will not go quietly go into the darkness
1290 Days Of Suck To Go ...... Day 170
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iMac
Firestorm Beta Version 7.1.13.78123 (7.1.13.78123)
The Tools
Ratio 23:9
LUMIIPro: No
AnyPose: Yes
LeLutka Axis HUD : Yes
FATE Hand Poser PRO: No
Photo Tools:
SE: *AK* Vibrant Sky (modified)
SEW : Spector Water Deeper (modified)
FOV: 30
FL: 50
Haze Horizon: 0.25
Haze Density: 1.30
Cloud Coverage: 0.43
Cloud Scale: 1.27
Refection Code Ambiance: 0.00
HDR Scale: -
Brightness: 1.06
Photopea Tools
Filter: Lens Flairs
Flickr Tools
Filter: None
Blur: No
Brightness: 0
Saturation: +25
Contrast: +5
Gamma: +10
Clarity: +5
Exposure: 0
Shadows: -5
Highlight: 0
Temperature: -10
Whites: 0
Blacks: 0
Sharpness: 0
Except that alms be his good friend,
In hell for to dwell, world without end.
My entry to Round 1 of Bio-Cup 2021
Subtheme: Theatre/Performing Arts
Based on a 15th century morality play known as "The Everyman"
Check out our Website
“Life of the Earth” will reflect on humanity, environmental destruction and the sixth mass extinction of plant and animal life currently happening on our planet. This installation will allow for time travel from Pangaea to the Anthropocene to an Earth 100,000 years beyond humankind. Along the way, it will illustrate drastic changes that have transformed the planet. The Earth will be seen as if from space—a key vantage point for illuminating a state of emergency and the urgency to mitigate human impact on climate change. This will be the second part of a series, following “Death of the Sun,” which premiered at Nuit Blanche in 2016. The earlier work followed the sun through its life cycle, offering a deeply personal and highly evocative meditation on human morality and our place in the universe. This first piece, portraying the death of the sun that sustains us, will also be on display. Source: www.toronto.ca/explore-enjoy/festivals-events/nuitblanche...
You can write summaries of each chapter. You can read aloud to yourself. The habit of reading will improve concentration.
"Politics without principles, Education without character, Science without humanity, and Commerce without morality are not only useless, but positively dangerous."
- Sri Sathya Sai Baba
"Osservare" in the English tongue better known as Observing. By far the most boring thing about finding your mark, but absolutely necessary.
Meet 'Darion Aiulf da Fortebraccio' and his eyes and ears in the sky 'Gaita' an Italian barn owl. Darion is a Venetian nobleman, and to others unknown also a Master Assassin and former member of the Italian Brotherhood of Assassins.
Abandoned by his brothers and mentor for disobedience. He now is a solitary assassin that seeks his targets through the signs of god. For his next mark, faith steered Darion in the direction of the Templar order. Who now have a foothold on Venice city grounds and even managed to get the newly elected doge 'Marco Barbarigo' on their side. Marco openly expressed his support for the Templar Order...
And so this is where our story begins!
Where other men blindly follow the truth, Remember, nothing is true.
Where other men are limited by morality or law, Remember, everything is permitted.
We work in the dark to serve the light.
We are assassins!
There are a few people who don’t like my art and are not shy to express their derision. Here are a few quotes from my more outspoken critics, taking jabs at me as a person and at my art for good measure.
*Victor Pross, is a rude, talentless artist.”
*… the so-called “caricature” …was quite disturbing, disturbing from the viewpoint of Pross's way of thinking….”
*I must ask, is not…this “caricature” (which has none of redeeming values of the graffiti one finds in urban ghettos) not beneath people who have reached puberty?
*Renderings of a Disturbed Mind. Both movies A Beautiful Mind and Suspect Zero featured creative people with disturbed brains sketching even more disturbing works of art as their interpretations of reality. This sketch from Pross brought the film events to mind for me. Whether he is actually a paranoid schizophrenic I will leave to a medical expert to diagnose.”
*“I'm slightly embarrassed to look at it. I seriously feel like I've seen a drawing from a therapy session. It makes me cringe.”
****
OUCH! God know I’m not perfect, that I have made mistakes, have committed transgressions—but this is all below the belt. Fact is, I struggle like the rest of humanity trying to be a better person, learning from my errors—biggies and small—vowing to never repeat them. I press on being a creative force contributing to the world of art---art that will hopefully live on after I’m dead and gone. I have been a creative force for the last 20 years--and as it stands now I have created a large body of work. I believe my life is far from over, I hope to output a greater body of work, enough to fill a museum.
In the face of harsh criticisms, I did take comfort in Angie's words [now my ex-girlfriend] “You are very talented, Honey. That's why you are considered a very successful Professional and are a Celebrity in Toronto and not the back alleys in the ghetto.”
Nowadays Angie has joined my worse critics, bestowing upon me the sweeping “I use to love him now I don’t” insult: PSYCHO. Yes, psycho was her designation of me. As an artist, I am pretty much of a “nothing” according to her. That pain was like a thousand bee stings. [Ah well, all is fair in love in war].
I think one needs the thick skin of a Rhinoceros to stand tall in the face of these character assassinations and to then simply press on being true to yourself and your art. That is what I did and continue to do. In this regard, I put myself in the company of Howard Roarke from THE FOUNTAINHEAD, the protagonist of the book, whose craftsmanship and person was on the receiving end of the most foul and heartless invective.
But on to good news:
My book, ICONS AND IDOLS, is coming out this year and it is already receiving advanced praise by those who are familiar with my work. Enter Rich Engle to the defense. It was Mr. Engle, a member of the band ON THE AIR, who stood by me, who believed in me as a person and as an artist. In fact, he hired me to illustrate the cover of his CD, which I have completed.
I was heartened to read when he wrote this about me
“I am not an apologist for Victor Pross. My self-interest lies elsewhere, namely that he is a very, very good artist, and he works. He works hard and it shows, just like my work outside of writing shows. He puts in the time while others talk about those putting in the time. If he manages to squeeze off some writing, well, at worst it's interesting to hear what he has to say, because it is from the perspective of a real, working artist. His work is unique (a lot to say in the world of caricature, and he can do more). It wasn't a question of his fucking "morality," (or evaluations thereof) it wasn't a question of anything other than the stark beauty of his uniqueness, which is as clear as a fingerprint.”
Thank you, Rich Engle.
To all my critics, I can only say this: I have a book coming out, to be released on a world market…and you don’t. Thank you. :}
The Laga mountains viewed from Colli hamlet, near the Amatrice town.
Find me on www.facebook.com/EnricoSitta
27 march 2007
finally got to the trails again today ... been over a week ... and i think matea is finally back to her top form. we were out for three and a half hours.
before we even reached the forest, morley dove into a nest of baby voles, and slaughtered one before i even knew what he was after ... i reconstructed the nest as best as possible, removing the mangled baby as the mother vole looked on.
from there we headed into the woods ... the sun was shining, most of the snow was gone, but something was definitely in the air ... i said to janet: "i highly suspect that baby vole isn't the only thing that's going to lose its life today" at which point my foot almost came down on what i think was a quail ... it flushed within only an inch of its life ... and on we went.
still - in spite of the quail's life spared - my prediction came true by the end of the hike.
i didn't see matea catch this groundhog ... for those who know me and know how well trained my dogs are, you know i'd have called her off successfully if i'd seen the hog first, but i didn't. by the time she came running back over the hill on a whistle command she already had this one, but given the brief time she was out of sight i do know it was a very swift death. and yes, i took it home, skinned and cleaned it and it's in the freezer for matea to eat at a later date. i really do hate skinning groundhogs ... they stink something awful and their hide is tough ... i so wish i didn't have this morality i carry that doesn't abide waste because i would really rather never do this again.
either way, it was wonderful to see my girl do what her drive dictates. i haven't seen her this happy in weeks.
Happy to see the sunshine, flowing water and bright reflections. The birds are singing and you can smell the spring thaw; quite good for one's morality
Sheyenne River, near Faust Park- Barnes County, North Dakota
March 11, 2022
Cut off from the sea by the suspicious port authorities in Shanghai it seemed that the only way I was going to get out of China was overland. This was my ticket.
In Shanghai I had inquired of every traveler I met about the path ahead of me. I had heard tales of this magnificent and exotic railway adventure before... they called it the greatest railway journey on earth. The longest stretch of steel rail ever layed.
An Australian traveller named Mark told me that he had heard that there was a guy in Beijing who could get me a ticket.
I asked Mark how I could find this guy in Beijing. He said just go there and ask for 'The Crocodile.' Just go to a city of some ten million souls and ask for 'The Crocodile'? It sounded almost insane to me.
Ditching Mark after he made moves on my Chinese girlfriend and ditching my Chinese girlfriend after she got all worked up when a soldier who was following me took a picture of us together on the riverfront... I understood her fear in that time of Tienenmen Square and I knew it was time once again to get moving. It was time to move north to Beijing... the city they once called Peking.
Tsu Tsu Mei was a nice girl. She had told me to call her Eleanor... because that was what she called her 'American name.' I couldn't do it because she just didn't look like an Eleanor to me... I always called her Tsu Tsu Mei. And I think that she really liked that I did... it would have been easier to call her Eleanor I'm sure... but each time I called her 'Tsu Tsu Mei' she gave me this look... it started with a big warm vulnerable smile that made it seem to me that she was melting inside with warm thoughts and shaking knees.
That look always made me want to scoop her up in my arms and give her the same feelings right back. Whenever I said her name and got that look... it just kind of summed everything up right there in that moment. I really liked that. Sometimes I wished that it had gone farther but the way it ended is why I have the memories I do... and I hope she does too... we never hurt each other... never not once... it was the hard and cold government of an opressive authoritarian regime that broke both of our hearts there in Shanghai. It wasn't either of us... it wasn't our fault.
I was with Mark the Australian when I met Tsu Tsu Mei... we were tooling around Shanghai and we had just gotten on the bus after a tour of the Shanghai Waterpipe Factory Number Seven where I had just purchased a fine example of a brass opium waterpipe. We had seen the place while riding the bus and jumped off... the factory was really happy to have foreigners tour the place. I couldn't believe that there were at least six other water bong factories in Shanghai. Somehow we had found the seventh.
As foreigners we were pretty much used to talking in english right in front of people knowing full well that they couldn't follow our conversation... especially the slang riddled prose we frequently used. When Tsu Tsu Mei got on the bus and stood next to me I turned to Mark and said "man she is the most beautiful Chinese woman I have ever seen."
Before Mark could agree... Tsu Tsu Mei let me know that she appreciated the compliment... she smiled and said "thank you" in perfect english.
Shocked that my subterfuge was exposed at first I was a little embarassed... until Mark took that half of a second to start in on her. No way I thought... I was the one who paid the compliment... I was going to be putting the moves on Tsu Tsu Mei. I'm not sure Australian guys understand the concept of a good 'wing man' but Mark sure had some learnin' to do. He needed to watch the movie 'Top Gun' and take some notes.
Tsu Tsu Mei and I arranged to meet later that night in downtown Shanghai and proceeded to become great friends. She even took me to meet her parents... Norman Tsu... the first deaf technical drafting instructor in all of China and his 'deaf wife Janie.'
Tsu Tsu Mei's father Norman was sent to the United States to study technical drafting in the fifties. He went to Gaudellet University and he confided in me that he really liked it... that he didn't want to come back to China... he stopped writing home and corresponding with the government... he wanted to drift away... but they corralled his mother who was a widow by this time... and they made her write Norman a letter that made it really clear that it was in her best interests that Norman return to China. That's how China got its first deaf technical drafting instructor. Or how they got him back.
Norman always referred to his wife as 'My deaf wife.' Both of them were deaf and we passed notes to each other over a marvellous dinner... while Tsu tsu Mei just kept smiling at me and at her parents... unbelievable food Normans deaf wife cooked. It was a feast... and not the Chinese food I was used to... this was exotic and unknown to me. The Tsu's really went out and they've been in my thoughts many times since then.
The Tsu family was really good to me and things were moving right along with Tsu Tsu Mei too until that soldier decided that he'd turn our little hand holding session on the Shanghai riverfrint into a Kodak moment. I had seen that guy following me before... he was the tallest Chinaman I'd ever seen... a full head above the rest of the general population. I found great amusement in shagging him... going into a store and going out the back door. It was really like a game. Still... he always found me... he was on me for days there in Shanghai. And after he took that picture I realized that my company with Tsu Tsu Mei wasn't looked upon favorably by the authorities. She was terrified of the repurcussions. I knew that was it... I wasn't going to get her or her family inot any trouble. I was going to get out of Shanghai.
I purchased a train ticket on a sleeper train for the seventeen hour ride from Shanghai to Beijing. How was it that I could go to a city the size of Beijing almost a thousand miles to the north and find this man called 'The Crocodile' simply by asking? It seemed completely insane... but such was the world I found myself in this year... for me, 1990 was the year of living insanely.
After seventeen hours of watching China slide by through the window accompanied by the soundtrack of nonstop kung fu videos on the train's television sets, I stepped off the carriage in Beijing, China's capital city. Which was a godsend because I could not have taken one more of those videos. The Chinese truly love them... they must be a part of their national identity... the way that the Japanese love Godzilla. Godzilla was a mechanism that helped the Japanese to cope with their loss of World War Two and the painful shock of getting Nuked twice. Even though Godzilla always stomps their cities to pieces they always triumph. It's like a morality tale with them.
When I was living in Osaka someone who worked in the studio that made the Godzilla movies decided to borrow the costume and wear it to a party where he caused it to be damaged to the tune of a hundred and seventy five thousand dollars. I wish I was at that party. Hanging out with the Nigerians. That would have been epic.
The first european looking guy I saw in Beijing... I stopped him as was my custom in the orient and inquired of the conditions and opportunities there in this new city. Blonde hair in China or Japan had always meant 'help desk' to me. We vagabonds and adventurers always stuck together and usually became instant friends as long as there wasn't a woman involved.
Then I asked him if he had ever heard of 'The Crocodile.'
He said that he would take me to see him right now. Right then. Right there. Unbelievable. I'm not kidding. No shit. I couldn't believe it either.
I had found 'The Crocodile.'
The man walked me to a hotel a few blocks away from the railroad station. It was an old building that looked straight out of the 1920's, like just about every other building in Beijing. You could see that it was really beautiful at one time... maybe even opulent or exclusive... but it, like anything else that was once beautiful or opulent, it seemed to fall into despair and decay under the custodianship of the communists. That was the way pretty much all of Beijing looked. With brown air and trees and bushes that were different from all those I had even known. I always notice the trees and bushes in a new city. Here on the other side of the world the plant life and the vegetation was odd to me... just unusual enough to stick out in my mind.
The man knocked on the door and we were answered by a nice looking blonde woman on her early twenties. She looked kind of pissed off but invited us in still. My guide just turned around and left with little more than a gesture to the woman. I followed her into the room.
It had become a bit of a self entertainment for me to wonder why the man I was seeking should be called "The Crocodile." It intrigued me from the moment I had heard it and in my mind I came up with all sorts of reasons for the nickname. None of them pleasant.
The room was an illustration in contrasts... inside "The Crocodile" had rented two rooms... he knocked down the wall that had seperated them and completely remolded it. This guy was livin' cush. He sat on the edge of his bed playing with the tv remote control as if it had befuddled him... I could tell from body language that his girlfriend and he had just been fighting.
"The Crocodile" stood up and turned around to face me... the guy must have been six and a half feet tall... and immediately I could see why they called him "The Crocodile."
He wore these braces on his teeth... the largest mass of metal I've ever seen in a persons mouth. Communist braces aren't very pretty... but these... "The Crocodiles" mouth looked like it had been installed by a blacksmith... an angry, drunken blacksmith. Like hammered bars of hot metal hand forged around each of his teeth.
I had to make myself stop staring as he got right down to business. Croc asked me when I wanted to leave... he said he had one ticket and he wanted a hundred and ten bucks American for it. There'd be no negotiating I could tell that right away. I had a feeling that if I tried that he'd have just relieved me of all my dough right there. Probably my gear too.
We were in a bit of a funny situation for a couple of reasons... I thought the ticket looked fake... it looked worse than some of the permits and passes I'd forged in school. I didn't have a visa to enter Russia... and I didn't carry that kind of currency in US dollars. I wasn't too sure that the Russians would actually be too excited about me coming to their country either. When I expressed this to "The Crocodile" he laughed a powerful and boisterous laugh and told me not to worry about it... he'd just gimme the ticket on good faith... so I could try and get a visa and cash a travellers check or something to come up with the Dollars he wanted. Besides he said "I know where your seat is and when you'll be leaving and if you fuck me I'll kill you" after which he laughed another deep laugh and gave me a half hug. "I want my money by next week he said." and walked me to the door where he said goodbye and his girlfriend gave me another dirty look.
That was it. Absolutely fucking unbelievable. I'm in Beijing less than two hours and I found my guy and I got my ticket. Now I just needed a visa from the Soviet Consulate. He'd also tell me there if the ticket was real I figured.
But right now I needed a place to stay. That would have to be my first order of business. The Croc's hotel seemed a little too luxurious for my budget... I needed something 'dumpier.' Something where my kind'd fit in you know?
I walked out of the hotel and on to the street... pausing for a moment to take a breath of the sulfery yellow tinged air and feel the pulse of the street there...a moment to let the vibe of it all sink in. I could have gone left or I could have gone right but it really didn't matter because I had no idea where I was going anyway. It's like a rule with me... like walking on the upwind side of the street because that's where all the paper money blows. Go left.
My friend Joel... the guy who'd saved my ass from the knife weilding Yakuza that pressed certain death into my throat in that bar in Osaka... he told me that he went insane and that he would hear these voices in his head that always said the same thing... "look to the left Joel." If he wasn't crazy already he said that those voices would do it... he never understood the meaning of it. Stupid voices in your head... they never tell you anything good... like "stay away from that one... she's trouble." They're always all cryptic. You gotta try to figure them out and break the code. Joel said the lithium they gave him pretty much shut the voices down. I never had heard voices though. It would probably be fun for a day or two... just to see what they would say. I think if I had voices they would sound like Vincent Price on LSD.
So I went left after I walked out of the Crocodile's hotel. I usually always go left when I got no idea but this time I was especially glad I did.
I get about a block and right there smack dab... badda bing... I run into this guy I lived with in Osaka Japan... Mike Levine... a Jewish guy from Jersey. He had let me borrow a pair of his shoes because I could find any in my size in Japan. Mike's got this big smile on his face as he sees me... we hug and slap each others backs and talk about the fight that got me thrown out of the university in Japan that we both went to.
Mike gave me directions to a suitably dumpy hotel and we parted ways.
Walking down the street I saw a couple of American girls... who turned out to be two really granola looking lesbian backpackers from Nebraska.
I stopped them there and asked them where they were staying... they said they had no idea... I invited them to share a hotel room with me if we could find one... plus the thought of girl on girl action sounded like really good fun to me. I felt like I was really going to like Beijing. It seemed like an easy city. Things were looking good.
Was this my lucky day or what?
Shit, I been here for like two hours... I already met the guy I came to meet, had a ticket for the Trans Siberian, hooked up with two lesbians and there we found a three dollar a night hotel. Six yuan a night for each of us. What more greatness could god bestow on me? Another lesbian? A blind supermodel? That would just be asking too much I thought. Lady Luck, I've always said, she was indeed a friend of mine.
Never look a gift horse in the mouth they say... so I unpacked my gear in the hotel room... every bit of it... and spread it all around. I always unpack fully so if I get robbed they can't just take one bag and split... they gotta work for it... then I unscrew all the lightbulbs in the room so they gotta have a flashlight to do it well... and then I make some loud noise making booby trap... like a pyramid of empty beer cans behind the door... then they gotta have nerves of steel to finish the job. Never got robbed once. Never. I have come home more than a few times affected by some intoxicant or another and fallen vicim to my own booby traps though. It always scared the beejesus out of me.
The Nebraska lesbians unpacked too.
Time to get out of here... It was time to go have a look at Beijing.
I left the hotel in a hurry and jumped on the first bus I saw... it didn't matter where the bus was going...I didn't care... I was sure that I hadn't been there anyway. That's the great thing about exploring like that. A new city... just go anywhere. It's all new.
Sitting on the bus I was of course the only westerner riding it. The Chinese weren't as polite as the Japanese and they would just stare at you forever... sometimes with mouth agape even... and I found myself very much the center of attention... the center of attention was something I really didn't want to be. I kinda wanted to blend in really. That was going to be tough.
I started having what could only be described as auditory hallucinations on that bus... that happened alot to me in China... but right there it was bad... the cacaphony of Chinese voices started to filter itself out in my hyperactive mind and become english... I could understand things sometimes... I was certain that people were commenting on how intoxicated I was... they all knew it... they were all talking about me... looking at me... 'Is that American guy drunk out of his gourd or what?' I had to get off that bus. The sweat was pouring from my pores. It was getting to be more than uncomfortable... it was unbearable.
The next stop was my stop no matter where it might be... soon as it stopped I jumped off that bus so fast... I didn't even have a clue as to where I was... and I didn't care. Away from that hash house hotel and off of that bus...I just wanted my own little piece of contraband free real estate where I could sit and watch China go by and make amusing comments in my head to entertain myself.
This was my stop.
Before me was layed an enormous plaza... I had never seen such a large paved public space. It was gigantic enough it looked like you could lay down and land a 747 in it if you went from one corner to the next. It was so big and vast that the smog of Beijing obscured the other side of it from me. I didn't know what this place was, but it made me feel realy small... insignificant actually... which was precisely how I wanted to feel.
I stood at Tienenmen Square.
This was the old Beijing... the one that used to be before the extremely systematic exploitation of cheap labor turned the place into a giant pachinko parlor... this was the dirty, dusty and gritty beijing where products were pulled around on wagons by teams of horses who shit big piles in the streets that you'd go straight over the handlebars of your bicycle if you didn't look where you were going. I'd seen it.
This was the Beijing where the streets seemed impossibly large considering no one really owned a car... the Beijing where the old people all wore those navy blue or black or gray kung fu outfits and walked around stooping with their hands clasped behind their backs as if some ultimate power had ordered them to for all time.
This was the square in Beijing where less than a year had passed since thousands of students took a chance to try and change their world... this was the Beijing where tanks had rolled over them without mercy and their bodies were torn apart by the callousness of lead flying around at ballisticly high speeds and cruel random trajectories. This was the Beijing where their blood ran like rivers down the curbs and into the sewers where like the extinguishing of their tender lives for naught all was soon forgotten by a world more infatuated with its demand for cheap consumer electronics in attractive clamshell packaging.
The one year anniversary of the slaughter was approaching and here as if by accident I find myself in the place where history was made and so conveniently forgotten.
Here and there I could still see bullet scars, burns and other marks that told the tale of a failed movement killed in a single night of murderous debauchery.
It was eerie in Beijing. I couldn't put my finger on it. Was it just the intoxicant's influence? I couldn't place it until I found a nice grassy place to sit down and let everything stabilize. Let my altered mind stop spinning.
The young people were all gone.
The government had sent what looked like the entire youth of the capitol city to 'summer camp,' where they'd sing patriotic songs and watch lots of motivational films and learn the error of their ways. It was re-education for the entire young population... there was almost no one walking around that city bettween the age of fourteen and twenty one. It was spooky... strange mojo in a strange land. Like some kind of Twilight Zone episode.
Everybody's seen the picture of 'Tank Man,' that guy whose name the world doesn't know... the one who was walking home from the grocery store with a couple of plastic bags in his hands... the guy who became a lonely human roadblock for a column of tanks... I know I could never forget that guy... he had balls the size of watermelons that one. I woudda love to have bought that guy a drink or eight.
I was walking down that street and a momentary sense of deja vu made me stop... It felt like I'd been there before... it didn't take too long for the reality to hit me... I was standing in that spot. In the Tank Man's spot. The premonition came from looking at that photograph.
There was a pay phone there... on the side of the street... you can see it in the Tank Man picture... I thought my parents might like to know where in the world I was so I tried to call them from it without luck. Maybe they'd think it was cool that I was calling them from there I thought.
I wanted to feel the scene out... I wanted to let it all sink in a little bit so I sat down and I had a look around. It all began to unfold in my mind... the direction the tanks came from... the sounds they'd make... their squeaking tracks rolling on the asphalt echoing in the canyon of concrete buildings... I could see the crosswalk he was walking across when it happened.
I stood up, still painting the scene on the canvas of my mind with the brushes of my imagination and I walked towards the crosswalk... just as he did that remarkable day.
Man... sometimes even I have a hard time putting things into words... sometimes feelings, emotions and perceptions are just too powerful and swift to get a grasp on.
Surveying the scene where this historic collision happened from the street... it was so much different than the picture we all know... that was shot from high above... it's got a whole different tone than the lonliness and isolation that the street level offered. Just like in the square where I had felt so small... even the street there was massive in width... one of those subcompact cars flying through the smog could have crushed me like a bug. The thought of standing my ground in front of a column of many ton armored tanks with their diesel engines shaking and belching thick black smoke and rumbling in anger... I'll tell you this... with the greatest respect that I can muster... that guy... at that moment... he took on the entire world. He was a bad ass motherfucker who said 'hey... I don't like what's going down here.' and he backed it up with his hundred and fifty pound body alone in the streets. He never even put those grocery bags down. But for a moment, that man stopped the world. He stood his ground. He stood our ground. He stood for everyman that day.
I didn't.
I didn't even chance stopping where he did. I didn't want to stop a bus.
When I got across the street I walked back towards Tienenmen Square wondering what happened to the guy.
These thoughts were crisply punctuated when I found the remains of a completely flattened bicycle. It had been run over by something pretty heavy because it was as flat as a bicycle could conceivably become. It even had a curve to it... a lot of parts were gone but the frame, the handlebars, even the rims were crushed flat. I picked it up, still thinking about Tank Man and I realized what it meant.
Something inside me wanted to take it home... to show my people... people born and raised with a freedom fought for by others... I wanted to show them what we pretty much let happen here... the great crime that we ignored. It was a strong symbol to me at least of an oppresive government that lost it's temper on it's own people.
I'd never get that flattened bicycle home, but I carried stashed inside the tubes of my backpack messages that people had asked me to carry out of the country to a place where mistakenly so they thought good and decent people might give two shits about the treachery bestowed upon them in their quest for what we have but could really care less about. A freedom so strong... a freedom so deep that it was a part of me wether I was conscious about it or not... a freedom that formed the person I was and carried me on a long and mostly accidental journey to a place where youth was cut short for having the audacity and lack of patience to demand a more tolerant society where people would count for just a little more than cheap labor.
I promised myself I'd remember what happened to them. I promised myself that on June 4th, 1990 that I'd say a prayer there in Tienenmen Square. I'd recognize their martyrdom to the cause of freedom and I'd pay my respects on the anniversary of the barbarism of their all powerful and vicious central authority.
When that morning came with its sultry brownish orange sunrise, three hundred and sixty five days after the blood letting, when the flag of a nation was raised over it's most proud square... I was the only person that wasn't Chinese standing there as a witness to at least offer the the quiet contempt of my heart and the objection of my soul as a counterbalance to the disgrace of the murder of these children.
There were no television cameras or satellite trucks... no journalists fixing their hair or taking notes on those long pads that they carry. Nothing.
I carried no sign or banner... I spoke no message of objection. I sought to instigate nothing.
I stood there in Tienenmen Square as a witness.
A witness to what the rest of the free world was so selfishly quick to forget.
Two days later I'd board a train that I'd get off of in another world... where a wall that represented hate and anger and mistrust would be falling, hacked to pieces bit by bit by a people celebrating a new freedom and unity.
It's amazing how many Mississippians seem not to realize that the flag on the right was (and thankfully is) the enemy of the flag on the left.
I think many latter-day Confederate sympathizers have no idea how far the South (and Mississippi in particular) moved toward an embrace of pure evil in the years leading up to the Civil War. I suspect their sympathies are influenced both by their lack of knowledge of the cause for which Southern governments fought and by the undoubted heroism of the Confederate soldiers who fought so bravely against hopeless odds.
When Mississippi was first admitted to the Union in 1817, its citizens still keenly felt the inherent tension between the statement in the Declaration of Independence that "all Men are created Equal" and the institution of chattel slavery.
In an 1818 decision, Harry v. Decker, 1 Miss. 36, the Mississippi Supreme Court declared, "Slavery is condemned by reason and the laws of nature. It exists and can only exist, through municipal regulations, and in matters of doubt, is it not an unquestioned rule, that courts must lean 'in favorem vitae et libertatis [in favor of life and liberty]'?"
In an 1820 decision, Mississippi v. Jones, 1 Miss. 83, the defendant who was charged with murder for killing a slave, appealed on the ground that a slave was not a human being. The Mississippi Supreme Court resoundingly rejected this argument:
"In this state, the Legislature have considered slaves as reasonable and accountable beings and it would be a stigma upon the character of the state, and a reproach to the administration of justice, if the life of a slave could be taken with impunity, or if he could be murdered in cold blood, without subjecting the offender to the highest penalty known to the criminal jurisprudence of the country. Has the slave no rights, because he is deprived of his freedom? He is still a human being, and possesses all those right, of which he is not deprived by the positive provisions of the law, but in vain shall we look for any law passed by the enlightened and philanthropic legislature of this state, giving even to the master, much less to a stranger, power over the life of a slave. Such a statute would be worthy the age of Draco or Caligula, and would be condemned by the unanimous voice of the people of this state, where, even cruelty to slaves, much less the taking away of life, meets with universal reprobation."
And, it should be noted, the Mississippi Constitution of 1832 forbade the importation of slaves into the state of Mississippi from either abroad or from another state within the United States.
But by the days immediately preceding the Civil War, white Mississippians had wholly lost their moral bearings, as can be readily seen from two astonishing Mississippi Supreme Court cases from 1859.
In the case of George (a slave) v. Mississippi, 37 Miss. 316 (1859), the defendant (George) was convicted of the rape of a 10 year old slave girl and sentenced to hang. The Mississippi Supreme Court reversed the conviction. The Mississippi Supreme Court held that as a slave, the little ten year old girl had no protection against being raped because "the common law has no relation to the rights of slaves, and can afford them no protection." Instead, unless the legislature had passed a law specifically protecting slaves, the Roman laws of antiquity were still applicable, which allowed slaves to be "tortured for evidence, punished at the discretion of their lord, or even put to death by his authority." The 1859 Mississippi Supreme Court did note its 1820 decision of Mississippi v. Jones, which had held that slaves were human beings entitled to protection of the law, but summarily rejected it as "founded mainly upon the unmeaning twaddle, in which some humane judges and law writers have indulged, as to the influence of the 'natural law' [and] 'civilization and Christian enlightenment.'"
George the rapist was allowed to live, with the punishment (if any) for his horrendous crime left solely to the discretion of his owner.
In the case of Mitchell v. Wells, 37 Miss. 235 (1859), the issue was the validity of a bequest of $3,000 in a will of a deceased white Mississippian to a Negro woman who was living in Ohio as a free woman under the laws of that state. The woman was the white man's daughter and he had traveled with her to Ohio, a free state, where he had freed her. Mississippi had passed a law forbidding the emancipation of any slaves within the state of Mississippi. However, this law had been interpreted by the Mississippi Supreme Court in 1840 as allowing slaves to be sent to Liberia for emancipation, as this emancipation occurred outside the borders of Mississippi. See Ross v. Vertner, 6 Miss. 305 (1840).
Despite its precedent in Ross, the 1859 version of the Mississippi Supreme Court contemptuously rejected the daughter's plea that she be allowed to receive her father's bequest. The Mississippi Supreme Court declared the state of Ohio, which had decided that blacks could live as free people within its borders, to be "forgetful of her constitutional obligations to the whole race, and afflicted with a negro-mania, which inclines her to descend, rather than elevate herself in the scale of humanity." It declared blacks to be "an inferior caste, incapable of the blessings of free government, and occupying, in the order of nature, an intermediate state between the irrational animal and the white man." It voided the will's bequest to the Negro daughter because Ohio's attempt to confer rights on black people was morally unacceptable:
"Suppose that Ohio, still further afflicted with her peculiar philanthropy, should determine to descend another grade in the scale of her peculiar humanity, and claim to confer citizenship on the chimpanzee or the ourang-outang (the most respectable of the monkey tribe), are we to be told that "comity" will require of the States not thus demented, to forget their own policy and self-respect, and lower their own citizens and institutions in the scale of being, to meet the necessities of the mongrel race thus attempted to be introduced into the family of sisters in this confederacy?
The doctrine of comity is not thus unreasonable. Like the benign principles of moral duty, which regulate the miniature government of family in social life, it commands no duty, the observance of which will tend to degrade a sister in the family of nations.
If the sister, in violation of morality, and respect for herself, as well as her associates of the old household, will insist on the meretricious embrace, we are neither bound to sanction nor respect it, much less to receive her new associate into our immediate circle."
This passionate embrace of the "right" of one race to exercise totalitarian power over another was at the heart of Mississippian's decision to secede from the United States and to enter into the Civil War. The second paragraph of the Mississippi Secession Convention's Declaration of the Immediate Causes which Induce and Justify the Secession of the State of Mississippi from the Federal Union reads as follows:
"Our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery-- the greatest material interest of the world. Its labor supplies the product which constitutes by far the largest and most important portions of commerce of the earth. These products are peculiar to the climate verging on the tropical regions, and by an imperious law of nature, none but the black race can bear exposure to the tropical sun. These products have become necessities of the world, and a blow at slavery is a blow at commerce and civilization. That blow has been long aimed at the institution, and was at the point of reaching its consummation. There was no choice left us but submission to the mandates of abolition, or a dissolution of the Union, whose principles had been subverted to work out our ruin."
When I think of the noble sacrifices of the Southern patriots who charged into the hailstorm of cannon balls, grape shot, bullets, and cannister at Gettysburg, I also think of the fact that many of those so bravely giving their lives were fighting for the proposition that black ten year girls could be raped with impunity and fathers have no right to leave their inheritances to their black daughters.
Still, to this Southern white boy, they were brave and noble, so I ultimately share the sentiments of General Grant in the final pages of his autobiography describing his emotions at Appomattox: "I felt like anything rather than rejoicing at the downfall of a foe who had fought so long and valiantly, and had suffered so much for a cause, though it was, I believe, one of the worst for which a people ever fought, and one for which there was the least excuse."
Lisboa – Museo de Arte, Arquitetura e Tecnologia
Architecture: Amanda Levete, London
Opening: October 5, 2016
Finished: March 2017
=> MAAT
=> Wikipedia, Deutsch (only German, sorry)
=> Artikel in BauNetz vom 04.08.2016
Funny detail: 'Maat' also is the name of the Egyptian Goddess of truth, balance, order, harmony, law, morality, and justice :-)
In the background the Ponte 25 de Abril.
Because it is a suspension bridge and has similar coloring, it is often compared to the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. It was built by the American Bridge Company (opened in 1966) which constructed the San Francisco–Oakland Bay Bridge, but not the Golden Gate.
(38.69577, -09.19378); [90°]
Fisher boats in the harbour at the sundown.
Find me on www.facebook.com/EnricoSitta
Deep into the future, humanity's morality has significantly lowered. In response, one AI has evolved into a machine that guides one to their desires... and to the results of their evil deeds. Some say it is The Devil's Pet... others The Justice of God...
But everyone calls it Death.
My Christmas card
Flat Lay / Knolling by the Calendar
December 25th - Christmas
Collective 52 Photo Project "2017"
Week 51 - Silver, Blue or Gold
Monthly Prompt,
Literary Devices - Allegory
'A Christmas Carol' by Charles Dickens,
a Victorian morality allegory ...
Generosity, kindness, ...
moral ideas associated with Christmas.
More on my blog
A cool build! Thanks to Rossv Valdos for the Recon!
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🎶[Tight Rope (Leon Russell)] 🎶
I'm up on the tightwire
one side's ice and one is fire
its a circus game with you and me
I'm up on the tightrope
one side's hate and one is hope
but the tophat on my head is all you see
And the wire seems to be
the only place for me
a comedy of errors
and I'm falling
Like a rubber-neck giraffe
you look into my past
well maybe you're just to blind to - see
I'm up in the spotlight
ohh does it feel right
ohh the altitude
seems to get to me
I'm up on the tightwire
flanked by life and the funeral pyre
putting on a show
for you to see
Like a rubber-neck giraffe
you look into my past
well maybe you're just too blind to - see
I'm up in the spotlight
ohh does it feel right
ohh the altitude
really gets to get to me
I'm up on the tightwire
flanked by life and the funeral pyre
putting on a show for you to see
- Leon Russell
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🐕 💝 1825 Days 💝 🐈
💗 Hope 💗
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It's Not A Debate of Policy, It Is A Question Of Morality
Only You Can Prevent Fascism!
I woke one morning to see I live in police state
FYI I will not go quietly go into the darkness
Day 276..........1184 Days Of Suck To Go ......
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iMac
Firestorm Version 7.1.13.78266 (7.1.13.78266)
The Tools
Ratio 23:9
LUMIIPro: No
FS Poser Tool: No
AnyPose: No
LeLutka Axis HUD : No
Photo Tools:
SE: *AK* Vibrant Sky (modified)
SEW : Specter Water Pool Party
FOV: -
FL: -
Haze Horizon: 0.00
Haze Density: 0.07
Cloud Coverage: 0.50
Cloud Scale: 1.30
Refection Code Ambiance: -
HDR Scale: -
Brightness: 1.00
Photopea Tools
Filter: Motion Blur
Flickr Tools
Filter: None
Blur: No
Brightness: 0
Saturation: +10
Contrast: +3
Gamma: +10
Clarity: +5
Exposure: 0
Shadows: -5
Highlight: 0
Temperature: -5
Whites: 0
Blacks: 0
Sharpness: 0
But the tour goes on, we pass through a small anti-chambre, blink at the strong sunlight when we come outside to walk down more stairs and come in the darkness and cool of one of the oldest parts, Romanesque architecture, heavy pillars and a strange pool of water…
Once more the raised voices get louder and resound under the lower vaults; I continue to take shots… no flash… no tripod… ahhemmm, a recipe for disaster, I know!!! Eventually the official ladies come to me apologetically; she tells me something that indeed we did not know prior!
There is a day tour and an evening tour, which is more expensive, she furtively looks around, no… the other bunch have left, still grumbling and reluctant, I remain polite and shrug, she turns and whispers” venez, come with me” we are quickly rushed through a door and arrive by miracle, this place really is a maze, in the anti-chambre then I will come and fetch you and you can join the evening tour and stay as long as you like, she winks and adds… take sunset shots! “
I profusely thank her and say we are more than willing to pay more; she gives a pursed lipped tchutt and disappears, locking the massive door with the huge key, Paul and I look at each other, smiling, wondering, laughing…
We wait, I take a photo of Paul staring out over the bay, we look through the beautiful stain glass windows, see the tide coming in the other island/rock called Tombelaine, towards Avranches.
The key is turned and people stream in, we arrive back in the refectory, transformed into a music-room, red carpet on the floor, a clavecimble in place and a young musician tuning it, we hang around, she starts to play, it is brilliant!
Very beautiful, you get ‘enveloped’ by the sounds…
We decide to continue, we hear other instruments in the distance, we are curious. Via another way, we arrive back in the church, the monks and nuns have left, the familiar scent and smoke of the incense lingers heavily in bands across the high vaulted ceiling, off-setting the rays of incoming sunlight, it is awesome!
Feverishly I take more images, the sun might go… the incense is thinning.
A young cello player plays a hauntingly melancholic melody, the music tumbles and slaloms between the pillars. We wait until it’s finished, applaud and walk out onto the big terrace overlooking the bay, the heat from the flagstones hits us, we sit on the steps, first in silence, then, with a big contented smile, we agree that once more, kindness and politeness have won!
There is a morality here, you, often, will get much further with tolerance and understanding, the people who work there have their orders, they get paid to do their duties, that’s their job… and the lady remained calm and composed which also made a difference.
I do not know if it was written anywhere about the regulations, if it wasn’t… I think it should!
Another hour in the life of a photographer…
That is the end of that story, we continue the day...
(… a suivre… more to follow)
THANX, M, (*_*)
Please do not use this image on websites, blogs or any other media without my explicit permission. © All rights reserved
For the story of Day 1:
magdaindigo.blogspot.com/2009/09/start-of-our-adventures-...
For the story of Day 2, part 1:
magdaindigo.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-2-of-our-adventures-...
For the story of Day 2, part 2:
magdaindigo.blogspot.com/2009/10/day-2-of-our-adventures-...
magdaindigo.blogspot.com/2009/10/again-1-hour-in-life-of-...
War leaves in its wake orphans, widows, parents without children, sickness, hatred, and spiritual and psychological trauma. It gives power to dictators on all sides. It is based on a lie that mass death can ever accord with justice. It attempts to silence those who tell the truth.
Indeed, war is a kind of totalitarianism. It is a policy without limit. It demands from us all that we have to give: our money, our children, our minds, even our souls. Too often people give it all. Too often, Americans give it all.
George Bush was brazen enough to make the doctrine explicit. If you are not for him, he says, you are for the terrorists.
He said it because the state fears the advocates of peace. It fears the truth, and those who tell the truth. It fears those who dare to judge the state by normal standards of morality.
The state fears you. Why? Because you hold the opinions that you do, and refuse to surrender your mind, your talents, your soul. By joining the resistance, you help thwart their plans. You help establish the basis for peace in the future. You help preserve and develop civilization, for the human family can only thrive in a setting of peace.
So I say to you: Keep making the sacrifice. Believe in peace. Proclaim peace. Stand up to the state. Be a dissident. Tell what is true. And do not fear the emperor-pirates. They, after all, fear you. For you help tilt the balance of history against their barbarism, and in favor of peace and freedom.
--Lew Rockwell--
⛰️[Sakrisoya]️⛰️
What a lovely build from the team of Terry Fotheringt☮n & Tolla Crisp
Really enjoyed this shoot with my pups
*Note I took a shit tons of raws on this set up, it was really hard for me to choose a single, so you will get a trifecta of PuP PuP woof!!
One more to follow in the series
Peace ☮️
Kidd
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🎶[Long Time Gone (Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young)] 🎶
It's been a long time comin'
It's goin' to be a long time gone
And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long
Appears to be a long time
Yes, a long, long, long, long time before the dawn
Turn turn any corner
Hear you must hear what the people say
You know there's something that's goin' on around here
The surely, surely, surely won't stand the light of day, no
And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long, mmm
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long time before the dawn
Speak out you got to speak out against the madness
You got to speak your mind if you dare
But don't, no don't, no, try to get yourself elected
If you do you had better cut your hair, mmm
And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long, mmm
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long, long, long time before the dawn
It's been a long time comin' (Long time comin')
It's goin' to be a long time gone (Long time gone)
But you know
The darkest hour
Is always, always just before the dawn
And it appears to be a long
Appears to be a long
Appears to be a long time
Such a long, long, long, long time before the dawn
- David Crosby
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🐕 💝 1825 Days 💝 🐈
💗 Hope 💗
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It's Not A Debate of Policy, It Is A Question Of Morality
Only You Can Prevent Fascism!
I woke one morning to see I live in police state
It is the cruelty
FYI I will not go quietly go into the darkness
Day 294.........1166 Days Of Suck To Go ......
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iMac
Firestorm Version 7.1.13.78266 (7.1.13.78266)
The Tools
Ratio 23:9
LUMIIPro: No
FS Poser Tool: Yes
AnyPose: No
LeLutka Axis HUD : No
Photo Tools:
SE: *AK* Vibrant Sky (modified)
SEW : Sims SE
FOV: 20
FL: 60
Haze Horizon: 0.25
Haze Density: 1.34
Cloud Coverage: 0.46
Cloud Scale: 1.29
Refection Code Ambiance: -
HDR Scale: -
Brightness: 0.76
Photopea Tools
Filter: None
Flickr Tools
Filter: None
Blur: No
Brightness: 0
Saturation: +30
Contrast: +3
Gamma: +5
Clarity: +5
Exposure: 0
Shadows: -5
Highlight: 0
Temperature: -10
Whites: 0
Blacks: 0
Sharpness: 0
I wanted to start the day off with something bright and beautiful. Yesterday life got to me and I was focusing on the negative and my belief in other people's morality was shaken. On Sunday, we were at our local amusement park and when ordering lunch the person in front of me told the cashier he was with me and I was paying for his sandwich then he walked out with his stolen lunch. I guess I'm sort of naïve and obviously so was the cashier, I couldn't believe someone would be so sleazy. Then yesterday, I got a call from the fraud department at my bank and somehow someone had used my debit card to make fraudulent purchases. Luckily the bank caught it but my card had to be closed and now I have to wait for the new card to be issued and contact everyone on auto-pay. Lastly, my local farm (where I bought this cute pumpkin) had a Facebook post and there was a news story about people going to the farm and stealing their pumpkins. It is very disheartening, this is such a hard-working family trying to keep their small local farm alive.
I am putting yesterday behind me and trying to focus on the goodness of others and beauty in the world. Sitting outside and enjoying the splendid sunrise and glorious light was a wonderful start. Have a great Tuesday and when life gets you down try to focus on the light and positive, be in the moment.
Lewa Downs
Kenya
East Africa
Happy Caturday !!!
Young cheetahs after chasing down an impala.
The cheetah is a large cat of the subfamily Felinae that occurs in Southern, North and East Africa, and a few localities in Iran. The species is IUCN Red Listed as vulnerable, as it suffered a substantial decline in its historic range in the 20th century due to habitat loss, poaching, illegal pet trade, and conflict with humans. By 2016, the global cheetah population has been estimated at approximately 7,100 individuals in the wild. Several African countries have taken steps to improve cheetah conservation measures. It is the fastest land animal.
Cheetahs are active mainly during the day, with hunting their major activity. Adult males are sociable despite their territoriality, forming groups called coalitions. Females are not territorial; they may be solitary or live with their offspring in home ranges.
Carnivores, cheetah mainly prey upon antelopes and gazelles. They will stalk their prey to within 100–300 m (330–980 ft), charge towards it and kill it by tripping it during the chase and biting its throat to suffocate it to death. Cheetahs can reach speeds of 112 km/h (70 mph) in short bursts, but this is disputed by more recent measurements. The average speed of cheetahs is about 64 km/h (40 mph).
Cheetahs are induced ovulators, breeding throughout the year. Gestation is nearly three months long, resulting in a litter of typically three to five cubs (the number can vary from one to eight). Weaning occurs at six months; siblings tend to stay together for some time. Cheetah cubs face higher mortality than most other mammals, especially in the Serengeti region. Cheetahs inhabit a variety of habitats – dry forests, scrub forests and savannahs. -Wikipedia
This was what you wanted, wasn't it? Toa consumed by darkness, Toa not hampered by things like mercy or morality. Well, now you can choke on it.
____ MISTIKA ____
[ Tahu ]
[ Gali ]
[ Onua ]
[ Bitil ]
[ Gorast ]
[ Krika ]
[ Mazeka ]
[ Takanuva ]
[ Vultraz ]
Thanks Buttloaf for the edit!
Custom Avohkii by socketball.
... is the new website, er, blog, er, Haven For Authorial Misery, www.terribleminds.com.
Yes, that's right, peeps, the new website is up and functioning and, I'm proud to say, it doesn't look like a bag of hot garbage! That's a win for you and a win for me, right? Right.
Mind you, before you click over there, I'm warning you: it's sodden with profanity, it's positively gluey with foul ideas and septic madness. Caveat lector, it is not for tender eyes! It will burn a hole in your morality centers! It will turn you into a monster deprived of happ thoughts and driven only on a fuel of slowly-cooking discontendness! Oh noes!
...
Okay, I might be exagerrating a little. Point is, you'll find bad words over there. That's really the warning.
Anyway, enjoy this picture of gleaming drops on the roseglow bush.
# Immanuel Kant is one of the influential German philosophers of his time. He was born in the Prussian city of Königsberg, which is today's Kaliningrad located in present day Russia.
# He is known for his ideas in the fields of Epistemology, Ethics, Metaphysics and Logic.
# His 3 major works are : Critique of Pure Reason (German: Kritik der reinen Vernunft), in 1781 which was his Magnum Opus; Critique of Practical Reason (German: Kritik der praktischen Vernunft), in 1788 and Critique of Judgment (German: Kritik der Urteilskraft), in 1790.
# His philosophy on ethics (Kantian ethics) is considered central in Deontology. His major work, Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals (German: Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten), in 1785, explained his philosophy on morality.
# He believed himself to be a compromise between the Empricists and Rationalists of his time and thought that human understanding of Metaphyics can be enhanced or bettered through our study of Epistemology, which is the study of the nature of human knowledge.
# Kant's ideas are studied as Kantianism, and include ideas such as the Categorical imperative, Transcendental Idealism, Deontological Morality, Synthetic A Priori, Noumenon, Schema, Sapere Aude, Nebular hypothesis.
# Though not regarded as a Political Theorist, Kant used his ideas to expound some political views like the classical republican theory which was explained in his work Science of Right.
# The Kingdom of Ends is another thought experiment of Kant which he explained in his work Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals. His is a hypothetical kingdom based on his idea of morality taking shape from the Deontologically moralistic idea of the Categorical Imperative.
Father Malloy
YOU are over there, Father Malloy,
Where holy ground is, and the cross marks every grave,
Not here with us on the hill—
Us of wavering faith, and clouded vision
And drifting hope, and unforgiven sins. 5
You were so human, Father Malloy,
Taking a friendly glass sometimes with us,
Siding with us who would rescue Spoon River
From the coldness and the dreariness of village morality.
You were like a traveler who brings a little box of sand 10
From the wastes about the pyramids
And makes them real and Egypt real.
You were a part of and related to a great past,
And yet you were so close to many of us.
You believed in the joy of life. 15
You did not seem to be ashamed of the flesh.
You faced life as it is,
And as it changes.
Some of us almost came to you, Father Malloy,
Seeing how your church had divined the heart, 20
And provided for it,
Through Peter the Flame,
Peter the Rock.
Edgar Lee Masters (1868–1950). Spoon River Anthology. 1916.
✌️🌏🌲[Three Fingers Pines]✌️🌏🌲
So Kidds!
There is a new SiFi sim in town!
My old friend Kitten Caboose from those cool peeps over at The Grove Art Center has created this unique futuristic environment, really well laid out with some superb details.
I was lucky enough get to do a shoot in the Kidd way going BIG, last week. While my interpretation strays from the builders intended storyline a tad, I had a blast making my frames!
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The Sims Story Per the creator:
The story of Three Finger Pines:
Once a thriving, green world, the planet Seva was rich with towering flora. But centuries of unchecked consumerism, pollution, and climate collapse shattered its natural balance. The soil turned sterile; the skies choked with toxins.
The Seravarian race emerged from this collapse, desperate to save what remained of their dying world. They launched a small fleet of ships into the galaxy, searching for planets with atmospheres that echoed their lost home. One such vessel crash-landed on Earth—deep within an isolated region of Canada’s boreal forest known as Three Finger Pines.
Remote and largely untouched, Three Finger Pines is a land of towering pines, sprawling wetlands, and near-complete isolation. To the Seravarians, it was a living memory of what Seva once was.
They have not come to resettle Earth, but to learn from its biosystem. By studying the region’s genetic blueprints—its plants, spores, and soil—they hope to unlock the secrets needed to reawaken Seva’s long-lost ecosystem.
✌️🌏🌲[Three Fingers Pines Flickr Group]✌️🌏🌲
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Sim Rules are more than reasonable, read the NC upon arrival, This is a very photo friendly build, group rezz allowed. Best if viewed in Ultra graphics setting.
Honest this is a refreshing top shelf superb build!
My long shot will post on Tuesday!
Peace Out
Kidd
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🎼[Planet Claire (The B 52's)] 🎼
She came from Planet Claire
I knew she came from there
She drove a Plymouth Satellite
A-faster than the speed of light
Planet Claire has pink air
All the trees are red
No one ever dies there
No one has a head
Some say she's from Mars
Or one of the seven stars that shine after three-thirty in the morning
Well, she isn't!
She came from Planet Claire
She came from Planet Claire
She came from Planet Claire
- Cindy Wilson / Fred Schneider / Henry Mancini / Kate Pierson / Keith Strickland / Ricky Wilson
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🐕 💝 1095 Days 💝 🐈
💗 Hope 💗
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It's Not A Debate of Policy, It Is A Question Of Morality
To"wag the dog" means to distract attention away from a political scandal, often through military action.
16 Million Americans just lost their health insurance so Billionaires can have a tax cut.
FYI I will not go quietly go into the darkness
1294 Days Of Suck To Go ...... Day 166
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iMac
Firestorm Beta Version 7.1.13.78123 (7.1.13.78123)
The Tools
Ratio 23:9
LUMIIPro: No
AnyPose: No
LeLutka Axis HUD : No
FATE Hand Poser PRO: No
Photo Tools:
SE: *AK* Vibrant Sky (modified)
SEW : -
FOV: -
FL: -
Haze Horizon: 0.13
Haze Density: 1.56
Cloud Coverage: 0.71
Cloud Scale: 1.00
Refection Code Ambiance: 0.00
HDR Scale: -
Brightness: 1.06
Photopea Tools
Filter: Lens Flairs
Flickr Tools
Filter: None
Blur: No
Brightness: 0
Saturation: +25
Contrast: +5
Gamma: +10
Clarity: +5
Exposure: 0
Shadows: -5
Highlight: 0
Temperature: -10
Whites: 0
Blacks: 0
Sharpness: 0
South Africa has the highest youth unemployment rate among OECD countries and one of the highest, if not highest, overall unemployment rates. It is also one of the worlds most unequal societies with arguably the highest Gini coefficient among both middle income and developed countries. The streets of both vast megalopolises like Johannesburg and small towns such as Grahamstown are awash with beggars and 'street people', who literally have no life prospects or hopes of better things to come. Here is one such young man - victim of a history and a social structure that he is powerless to alter. His life's possessions are in the plastic bag that he's carrying as he seeks a place of repose for the night. This is the dark side of global capitalism, the dark side of a world of such abundance and plenty. Our moral duty as the privileged (and no one on Flickr is in some ways not 'privileged to help address the needs of others, especially of those who have no resources whatsoever to do so.